I don't know what this fic is anymore,

review if you want more about how Percy learnt to cope/her death

Enjoy;

The camp is always beautiful in the morning. The sun slowly rising over the sea, the early morning campers waking up, practising, running, laughing.

Tahlia did miss it sometimes. She missed being surrounded completely by her friends, and some foes. The food at camp was always, always ten thousand times better than the food in the Hunt, the girls often turning to eating at McDonald's or KFC. Which Artemis hated.

Tahlia had always been an early waker, love walking on the beach, strolling through the forest slowly, watching the world around her wake up, watch the beauty of the world slowly reveal itself. The dew on the grass wetting her usually bare feet, the rocks, the used to scratch, only give her mild discomfort. It was perfect and calming. And she couldn't wait to live the rest of her thousands of years around the girls that surrounded her, on this earth. Right here. Soaking the sun in forever. Walking early helped her a lot. It helped her deal with trauma. It helped her adjust to the sudden change of losing important people to her. The more she walked, the more she was out, the easier it was to cope. The easier it was to slowly, feel less and less raw over deaths.

The walk back to the Pavilion sucked the most. Having to join everyone again, be bombarded with laughter and questions. The Hunters checking to see if she was okay, the campers asking questions about archery, the girls asking questions about the Hunt, if it was worth it if they should do it. Tahlia never knew what to say to those girls. She said it was fun, and she loved being around everyone, but being away from friends hurt sometimes, and she needed to come back to camp on those occasions.

Thalia stood at the edge of the Pavilion, scanning the place slowly, taking it all in. A tall, silvery blond girl walking towards her caught her eye. She watched as the girl approached, the girl frowning slightly; "Tahlia, your cousin has run around the Pavilion five times, and he's coming back now."

"What do you mean?" The Pavilion wasn't that large, and Percy could easily run it a few times without tiring, but the girl (Kaia) looked concerned.

"Not just the Pavilion, he's come across the Pavilion five times. I think he's running the entirety of the campgrounds."

Now she understood why Kaia was concerned. Percy was not coping with Annabeth death. Tahlia was struggling too, but she had to learn to deal with death at a young age. She had learnt, she had learnt healthy coping mechanisms. Running could be one, but there was a line where healthy running ended, and self-destructive begun. And Percy was well beyond that line. And on the wrong side.

She watched her cousin jog down the Pavilion. His face red, his shirt almost completely wet with sweat. His legs seemed to be shaking with the weight he continued to put on them. His body looked as though it was begging him to stop, but he wasn't listening.

She tried shouting his name, but it fell on deaf ears. She called again, he glanced at her, only quickly, but turned around, jobbing back towards the beach.

"He's going to kill himself doing that," Kaia muttered. Tahlia could only nod in response. She didn't know why she thought he would be at least trying to take care of himself. She'd seen him practising constantly, and swimming. She and Nico would sit with him during meals, because Nico felt lonely at the Hades table, and she wanted to be with them. Feel like the old times.

"Have you seen Nico?"

"I haven't, you can check with Will?" Kaia suggested. Tahlia shook her head.

"If you haven't seen him eating, he isn't awake. That boy loves food more than his boyfriend." Kaia smiled at the response, waving as Tahlia walked along the camp, heading towards the Hades cabin.

The Hades cabin never freaked her out as much as the other campers. Most of them shied away from it, refusing to enter or go within a 10-metre radius. Her, Percy and the Seven were different. Maybe the other campers were intimidated by Nico, she didn't know. She knew she and Percy scared the crap out of young campers. The door on the cabin was the only thing that made her uncomfortable. It was dark and had a dog, three heads, each head had glowing red eyes that seemed to follow whoever was entering.

"What?"

"Are you and Will decent?"

"Will isn't here, just me." Nico's voice was gruff and tired. Once he opened the door, his black hair was falling over his face, his face as pale as ever, chest with cuts and scars down it from years of fighting monsters. "You woke me up."

"I'm well aware. Jesus Nico, have you heard of air freshener? It smells of sweat and cum."

"How do you know what cum smells like?"

"The hunt never says to swear off girls." Nico only replied with a snort, grabbing a (black) shirt off a pile of shirts.

"That's really clever actually. Damn, how many lesbians are in the Hunt?"

"Most of them actually, a few are bi, a few just watch porn. But that's not why I came." She looked out the window, seeing Percy cross in front of the Poseidon cabin. Nico hummed, pushing her to continue. "I'm worried about Percy. That's the 6th of 7th time he's run around camp. The entire camp."

"Jesus Christ, he isn't coping." He muttered. "Should we follow him?"

"Yeah."

The pair exited the cabin, picking up a slow jog, so they couldn't catch up with Percy straight away, so he couldn't see them, but also be close enough to sprint forward to catch him if, or when he fell.

And thank god they did, because when they hit the beach, the managed to run halfway before he collapsed.

"PERCY!" Nico surged forward, as other campers saw what happened and begun to come as well.

"Hey, hey, back off. He needs some space. Can you get Chiron?" Tahlia says. The younger ones didn't listen. "BACK OFF! Someone get CHIRON!"

Percy was shaking as he lay in the sand, Nico stroking his sweaty arm slowly, whispering to him calmly, trying to calm the now sobbing boy.

"Percy, you are an idiot." Tahlia sat down next to Nico, taking Percy's hand and rubbing it as well.

"I mi...I miss her." He mumbled.

"I know. I miss her as well. But this is not healthy."

"Running is."

"Not like this. You look like you're trying to kill yourself." Nico muttered.

Percy didn't reply.

"Percy, don't you fucking dare. Or I swear I will kill you, and so will Annabeth, and Nico, and Jason, and Piper –"

"I get it. Peopl...People need me." He calmed down more, his sobs slowly but the tears still falling. "I need her."

"I know Perce. I know."

By the second week of him not listening Tahlia was angry, and Nico angrier. They forced Percy down, and he refused to listen.

"I'm not fucking mental."

"No. You aren't. But you are severally depressed and I'm worried. What if you kill yourself?"

"I won't."

"You're sure as hell trying to!" Nico puts in. Percy just sits back, glaring at the ceiling. "You're acting like you're the only one affected by her death. I know she helped you through shit, I know she was your everything, but we're hurting too, and you're acting like we aren't. You're acting like we don't understand it at all. I get it's different, and if I lost will I'd be a wreck. But we need you to let us help you, Perce."

"Fuck off, Nico."

"Percy, stop being an asshole. He's trying to help. I'm trying to help. I almost lost my girlfriend in the war, and it scared me like hell, and it does hurt, but you have to help yourself otherwise you're not going to live until the end of this fucking year."

"Maybe I want that."

"Well, I don't want that, neither does Tahlia. Just let us help. I wanted to murder everyone when my sister died, and it hurts for ages, trust me. It still hurts now, but it hurts less and less every day. My father forced me into therapy, and it's the best choice I've ever made because it helped me so much."

"I'm not forgetting about her."

"We aren't asking you to."

"Fucking sound like it."

"Percy! For Christ's sake, shut up for three seconds and listen to us. You're so far up your own depressed ass right now, you aren't realising how much this is hurting us. We not only lost Annabeth in the war, but we lost you. Death changes people, but this isn't a change. This is a slow death. It's slow, and painful for us and I won't stand for it." Tahlia was fuming now, standing up, on the verge of screaming at her cousin, whose eyes were glued to the roof, refusing to look at anyone, acknowledge anyone

"What help."

"You can see my psychologist, he's a demigod, so you can mention that stuff to him and he won't think you're actually mental. He's helped a lot with me. He helped me learn to deal with grief, he's helped me learn to accept myself, accept that I'm gay. He'll help you, Percy."

Percy never truly got over Annabeth's death. He doesn't think he will either. She always sat there, smiling at the bottom of his heart, and a beam of light to help him through. He used staying alive, staying on earth to motive himself to continue fighting. For all the stories he could tell her once he got there too. He never planned on remarrying or finding some else. He didn't think he could either.

The first year was the worst. He was learning to live without her, live without her laughter, her soft touches, strong kisses, laughing at each other during sex, pulling faces and totally ruining the mood. He missed her hugs, her wrapping him in her arms, muttering its good, and then licking his neck to make him squirm and laugh. Giggling together about the dumb shit, the good shit, and the average shit. Watching movies together, walking cities swinging hands, pointing at clouds and saying that's you. Trying to find the ugliest face in the movie poster and say "strange, didn't realise you were a superstar?" to the other. He missed screaming at each other, wanting to rip each other's throats out. He missed sex with her as well. Her hair sticking to her sometimes, her faking gaging when giving him a blowjob, and her delicate fingers searching his hair when he went down on her. He missed the sex that was silly, and they played around, making the other laugh so much they couldn't breathe. Some days, Percy couldn't get out of bed, and just lay there, sometimes crying about her. He learnt soon that staying in bed was probably the worst thing he could do, and would sometimes stay with the Hunt for a while, walking with his cousin, joking together like old times. Other's he would stay at Camp Jupiter. Jupiter was the easiest camp to stay. Nothing reminded him of her, and for the first two months (after he broke down on the beach) it was nice. It was a relief. After that, he craved CHB, and returned, with warm hugs and smiles. Sometimes he would think of something funny, and turn to his side, opening his mouth to tell Annabeth, and when she wasn't there, and he was reminded that she never would be again (until death), it hurt. Clarisse, Nico or Leo would catch these moments, sprinting over to him, slapping an arm around his shoulders and forcing him to tell them the joke.

The second year wasn't as bad. He managed to stay at camp the entire Summer, with a single breakdown. He went back to school and finally (fucking finally) finished school. It was a relief finishing, but saddening because he couldn't finish with Annabeth like he had dreamed before. But Tahlia, Nico and Groover stood in the crowd, cheering for him, and supplying him with enough hugs to last a were moments the Seven shared, laughter to the maximum, all in the present together. He didn't realise until the night that he hadn't turned to Annabeth that time. He hadn't turned to her, to pull a face, or tickle her to laugh more. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but it made him cry. There was a particularly bad week of every year. The week, and the day of her death. The week he struggled, he fell into bad habits sometimes, staying all day in the darkness, or exercising to the point where he couldn't stand. He realised this, and he tried to stop. But her death day came the next day, and he was just so hit. He struggled that day, but his cousins and friends barely left his side. Tahlia and Nico clinging to him the entire 24 hours, holding his shaking hands as he laid flowers on her grave, and sat out of earshot while he talked to the grave. They sat with him at the grave, him leaning on it, all three telling stories of her, laughing fondly at the memories.

Painting calmed him a lot, and he slowly began to sell his art (one of Annabeth got into the $300s). The painting was a good mechanism, Kyle (his and Nico's psychologist said), and he really encouraged him to paint whenever he felt self-destructive. He was a hell of a painter, after practising and tears. He sold a painting of her the day after her death day. It was made the day of, but it was too dark, to reminding for him to keep in his house. The local art gallery had seen his paintings before, and when he walked in holding it, shortly explaining the story behind it, tearing up slightly, the boss of the gallery bought the painting, and lunch with Percy. That was three years after.

Nico and Will's wedding made him a bad when it happened. He was happy, and hugging his cousins the entire day, smiling with everyone else. But once he got home, he couldn't hold the tears. That was four years after.

His psychologist also suggested Percy take up a course, after school. Study Marine life, so he could work with animals, work in his element. He took up the Dr's advice, and within 4 and a half years of her death, he was studying, preparing for a life.

Over the summers, he'd head back to camp, help train the kids, teach them ancient Greek. Told them stories of monsters and adventures, a story of a hero with black hair and powers that could control the ocean, and a wise girl with blond hair and a smile that could scare an assassin.

Percy Jackson died at the ripe old age of 85, smiling to Tahlia, who was holding his hand as he passed. He died of completely natural causes. His heart getting too weary to continue on.

Tahlia kissed his hand softly, the old skin all wrinkled. A few of her tears fell onto his hand. The old man smiled at the young girl, lifting up his arm to wipe a fear tears away.

"Stay strong. For me."

"Tell Annabeth hey."

And that's that. This is the end to this fic. I could have drawn it out longer, but honestly. Recovery is hard, and its personal.

I hope you enjoyed.

Georgia