Wow, I really wasn't expecting on getting feedback on this as quickly as I did! Unfortunately, I can't respond to anything privately yet, my account is still too new. But I'll respond as quickly as I can! Anyway, I wrote Pollux's side of this shenanigan, so I hope you enjoy this one as well!

Guilt was a weird thing. It was awful, and never seemed to go away or get better. All time did was make Pollux feel more and more numb.

The worst time had been during the Battle of the Labyrinth, as it had later been called. Pollux had been fighting nearby, and he'd just killed a couple monsters when he turned back around to see how Castor was doing. If he'd just defeated the monsters a little faster and then turned around faster, maybe things could have been different. Those few seconds could have saved Castor's life. But instead, Pollux was too late to save him from the blow that killed him.

After Castor fell, Pollux was in shock for a few seconds. A few thoughts passed through his head, such as 'maybe he's not dead, maybe he's just knocked out.' If he was just knocked out, Pollux would have to keep him safe until the battle was over. They'd get help once the immediate threat was gone, Castor would be fine. Pollux's shock wore off quickly, and he began fighting the demigod who had previously been fighting his brother. If he'd had more time to fight, that demigod wouldn't have stood a chance.

It was only after Grover had shrieked and caused the entirety of Kronos' army to retreat that everything started really sinking in. The campers that survived had to bring the dead out of the forest, and among those dead was Castor. He didn't want to believe that his twin brother was dead. He didn't want to have to actually use the funeral shroud that they had made a few years ago. They used to laugh about how stupid it was that they had to put grapes on them just because their dad was the god of wine. It didn't seem too long ago now.

There were a lot of kids at the bonfire where they were going to burn their brothers and sisters. A lot of them managed to say something about their sibling before breaking down, but when it became Pollux's turn to do it, he choked. He couldn't say anything about his brother, not one single happy memory that he had with him, without crying. Who was he kidding, he was going to cry anyway, but that just made it even more difficult to talk. All he was able to do was light Castor's pyre and back away, hoping that he wasn't mad at him for letting him die.

The year after that was pretty much pure torture. Pollux was always alone in the Dionysus cabin, which held YEARS of memories. Even the strawberry fields weren't the same without Castor. At least there was something that could make an attempt at distracting him from his absence. There was a lot of war preparation going on around camp. If they were going to have a chance of winning, they'd have to be very well prepared. Training, creating weapons, more training; it was at the very least a routine that he could get into.

The Battle for New York only felt longer than it really was. It was probably shorter for Pollux, thanks to the fact that he'd broken his arm. He didn't want to just sit on Olympus while everyone else was still down on the ground fighting, and he even told Percy that he would fight with his left hand. Percy just told him not to fight, as a 'personal favor.' That was a load of bullshit if he'd ever heard any. But something told him that he should just agree. Somebody would probably stop him before he even got to the elevator, they'd all tell him that going down to fight with a broken arm would be suicide. He didn't particularly care about that, but the other campers would. Obviously the world just wanted to rob him of another chance to avenge Castor.

When the war was finally over, and Kronos was officially gone for good, everyone who was still alive was able to return to camp. They didn't have to worry about an army of monsters breaking into camp anymore. They just had to worry about singular monsters whenever they left camp. And with the news that anyone who died would go to Elysium came Pollux's resolve to eventually die a hero and find Castor again.

His chance came almost half a year after the Battle for Olympus. After the existence of Roman demigods became known, it seemed like everyone in camp was preparing for something awful to happen. The other, bigger problem was literally giants. And Gaea, but the more immediate was the Giant problem. With Gaea, they could only hope that the ship that Leo Valdez had created would somehow get them to Greece and keep her from waking up. The Romans, they would have to fight. It would be like the Battle of the Labyrinth all over again, except they would be fighting against only demigods, not monsters.

A big surprise came when it turned out that they would not in fact be fighting other demigods. They'd be fighting ghosts in dirt shells. Thanks, Gaea. All Pollux had to do about that was keep breaking them apart and hope that the ghost inside of it wasn't his brother and that he couldn't feel it if it was.

When he blacked out and reawoke near a black river, he was mostly surprised. One of the dirt ghosts must have gotten a lucky hit. But that didn't matter. Either way, he was dead, and hopefully he'd be seeing his little brother soon.

The journey across the river and to judgment weren't eventful in the slightest, but when he was actually in judgment, things were way more stressful than being dead should be. A trio of old men debating on where you should go for the rest of eternity? Should be a walk in the park. Of course it wasn't, because they seemed to know literally everything that you had ever done ever. Was taking food off of your brother's plate enough to keep you from going to Elysium? No, but apparently failing to keep him from going to his own death might be. When the judges brought up that part of his life, Pollux began worrying that Castor might blame him for letting him die again. He also worried that maybe he wouldn't be able to find out either way, because he wouldn't be able to get into Elysium.

The worry in his stomach didn't begin to settle even after the judges agreed on where he should go. He'd go to Elysium and he'd see Castor again, for better or for worse.

The moment he entered Elysium, he a very familiar voice call his name. A split second later, he was hit by a body that had been running straight at him. Pollux didn't even have to guess who it was, considering that he didn't seem to intend to let go for a while. If Pollux was being honest with himself, he'd have no problems with that. If this meant that Castor wasn't mad and didn't blame him for letting him die, he'd let his hug last forever.