So this is something that I've been thinking about for a while. It's a bit different than what I usually write. It's darker and deals a lot with death. It has a good moral, though :D Anyways, here's Death is Life: Chapter One.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO!

Chapter One

"You have to stop smoking."

Percy decided to just ignore this jackass who was telling him what to do. Who was he to tell him such nonsense? Instead, he glanced around the cream-colored room, taking in the animated pictures of lice and other disgusting creepy crawlies that would like to nest in your hair. He took in the plastic figure of the human body. It was missing its spleen and brain. Next to that on the wall was a poster explaining what drugs did to your body. In the corner was a wooden desk with his folder on it. He himself was sitting on an examination table, the white paper crinkling under him.

He yawned loudly. "Done?"

The man sitting before him in a wheelie chair glared at Percy. "I'm serious, Percy. I'm your doctor."

Percy matched his hard look lazily. "That's what they all say."

"If you don't stop this, you'll die."

Percy thought of the prospect of dying, and it didn't sound all that bad right now.

"Your lungs are so full of cancer, it's amazing you're even breathing."

"So then it shouldn't matter if I quit or not. I'm going to die either way, right?"

Doctor Lynch clenched his teeth. "If you stop now, we might be able to get rid of it with surgery."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Yeah right. You said it yourself. I'm lucky to be breathing. Nothing's going to save me now."

"You're not listening! If you stop, you have a higher chance of living. You have a higher chance of surviving. Don't you want to live?"

Percy sighed at the theatrics, but that caused him to go into a coughing fit. Doctor Lynch grimaced as he saw Percy hack and cough up some blood.

Percy's nose wrinkled. "Ew." He got up and went to the sink and washed his hands with the lemon-scented soap that killed ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs.

"See what I mean?" Doctor Lynch said, standing up. "If you continue like this, you'll be dead in a matter of weeks."

Percy dried off his hands before replying to him. "Maybe I want to die. Maybe I'm tired of living."

His frustrated doctor stared at him angrily.

"My wife died, my kids hate me, my family is disappointed in me, my friends won't talk to me…" Percy shook his head, a sudden feeling of sadness washing over him. Harshly, he said, "Why should I continue through this misery? Why should I do that to myself? Life's not worth living if there's nothing to live for."

Doctor Lynch remained silent. This was what he wanted to hear for years: the reason behind his smoking.

They were smothered in an uncomfortable silence for three minutes. Percy was starting to question why he had even come to his check up in the first place. Deciding it wasn't worth it anymore, he started making his way to the door when Doctor Lynch stopped him.

"You move on. You learn to get past all that. You make amends. You don't just give up."

Percy stopped, his hand on the doorknob. "It's too late for me."

"No, it's not." Doctor Lynch took a deep breath. "I'm putting my foot on the line."

The confidence and certainty in his voice made Percy slowly turn around to stare at his doctor. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice low and suspicious.

"I'm your doctor, and you're my patient. Therefore, I have a right to step in and help if a patient cannot help themselves."

"I can help myself. I'm just choosing not to."

Doctor Lynch scowled. "I'm deeming you unfit to take care of yourself."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "This has to be against the law."

"It's not."

"I'm still going to sue."

"Go ahead. Do you think they'll believe you over a doctor of fifteen years?"

Percy glared harshly at him. "I don't need help. This is my choice." And with that, he wrenched the door open.

"I can still overrule that, you know!"

"Oh, fuck you!"

Percy slammed the door shut and stomped out into the waiting room where people were staring at him with wide eyes. He rolled his eyes. Ignoring the appalled secretary, he pushed the door open and stepped outside into the chilly autumn air. He started walking down the busy Manhattan streets to his apartment. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and stuck it in his mouth. He pulled out his neon yellow and green lighter and lit his smoke.

He inhaled deeply, reveling in the tobacco as it swirled in his lungs, killing them even more. He let his breath out and watched as the smoke curled around itself before lifting up into the air and disappearing.

Maybe someday before I die I'll be able to make letters like that damn caterpillar from Alice…

Percy coughed from the tobacco, a coppery taste filling his mouth. He grimaced, but didn't put his cigarette out. As he continued on his journey home, Doctor Lynch's words echoed in his mind.

"If you don't stop this, you'll die."

Percy knew what he was doing to himself. He was aware that his lungs were dying. He wouldn't stop smoking, though. It wasn't just the addiction to the tobacco that kept him from quitting. It was the memories and the reason why he started smoking in the first place. Every time he was hit with the memories, he found himself smoking a few more cigarettes, trying to get to his final goal: death.

Death was what he wanted. He didn't want to live in pain anymore. He wanted to escape from his miserable life because there was nothing left in it that was holding him to Mother Earth. Yeah, he loved his kids to death (no pun intended), but they hated him. Besides, they were only a reminder of a past life that he wanted to forget.

So why choose smoking? Why not jump off a building or drown himself in the bathtub? First off, he thought they were too theatrical, along with shooting his brains out. Second, he didn't want people thinking he was seriously suicidal (he was suicidal, just not serious). Thousands, maybe even millions, of people died due to lung cancer, a.k.a. smoking. When he died of smoking, people will just think of him as a crazy loony toon. It was nothing out of the ordinary, so people wouldn't be too suspicious.

A few minutes later, he arrived at his apartment. He walked up the steps and rummaged through his coat pockets for his apartment keys. He ignored the little old Korean lady—his neighbor—who was leaning out the window on the third floor, yelling down at him in Korean.

He growled and craned his neck up at her. "I no speak Korean! This America! We speak American!" He went back to rummaging in his pockets. "Crazy old nit…"

Percy found his keys and opened the door just as one of his neighbors was about to leave, scowling and grumbling.

"What's she complaining about now?" Percy asked.

The guy scowled. "She thinks you stole her cat again."

Percy rolled his eyes. "I swear to God they should just send her to the nursing home already."

Percy walked down the decrepit hallway and up the creaky steps to the third floor. Upon arriving on the third floor, he was immediately assaulted by the small mass that was Mrs. Chang.

"You take kitty cat again!" she yelled.

Percy sighed to himself. He tried to ignore her as he made his way to his place. "You sure she didn't run away from you? I wouldn't blame her…" he mumbled.

"Give kitty cat back!"

"I didn't take your damn kitty cat! She probably just slipped outside when you weren't looking!"

She glared at him and continued pestering him in Korean again. Percy just smoked his cigarette as he slipped inside his apartment and locked the door behind him. He sighed in relief at getting away from her nagging.

Percy slipped his coat off, revealing his white button down shirt that was lazily tucked into his pants. He threw it on the recliner before crashing on the couch. He slipped his shoes off with his feet and they flopped onto the ground. He reached for the remote that was sitting on the coffee table and turned the TV on, flipping through the channels. He had flipped through them all but had found nothing to watch, so he turned the TV off.

He stared up at the white ceiling, his free arm behind his head. He inhaled again and let the smoke slowly leave his mouth. He felt a little guilty when he thought about leaving his kids with his parents, but it's not like he had ever been a huge part of their lives. When he had started smoking, they had visited his parents a lot, and pretty soon they were living with them. He missed them, even if they hated him for giving up on his life. If anything, he was glad they were away from his suicidal self.

He sighed and reached over to put out his cigarette. Instead of an ashtray, he just had a big pile of sand on his coffee table with a bunch of old cigarettes sticking out. He stuck his cigarette in the sand, adding to his collection. He suddenly went into a coughing fit, the taste of blood filling his mouth again. He sighed again and closed his eyes, drifting off into a fitful sleep.

Percy watched as his wife, the most important person in his life, was lowered into the ground in her casket. He gripped his children tighter in a hug as they sobbed into his shoulders. Tears slipped down his face as he said a final goodbye to her.

"Hello?" Knock, knock, knock. "Is anyone home?"

Percy slowly opened his eyes. He glanced around and remembered he had fallen asleep on the couch. He took a deep breath to calm himself after having that memory. That was the memory he hated most.

He stood up and reached for his back pocket to take a cigarette.

"Hellllooo?"

Percy bit the inside of his cheek. Was he really in the mood for a social visit? Tch, hell no.

He brought out his pack of cigarettes and lit another one before going to the kitchen to have dinner. Or, as he liked to call it, heated crap. Yes, he meant the good ol' TV dinners.

"I know you're in there, Percy Jackson. I can hear you."

Percy blinked and stared at the door, the cold air from the open freezer pouring on him. He just shrugged and bent down to pick out his heated crap for the evening. He opened the microwave and was about to put his dinner in when he heard her say, "I'll break down the door if I have to."

Percy rolled his eyes. "You do that, you'll be paying for a new door."

Stunned silence. "So you are in there!"

He sighed and reluctantly went and opened the door. Standing before him was a woman with blonde hair and gray eyes. She was dressed in regular clothes and she held an annoyed expression.

He raised a brow. "If you're looking for a way to get paid, I might suggest going down to apartment 10B. He's always looking for a girl to f—"

"I'm not a hooker," she ground out.

"Could've fooled me…" he muttered.

She glared at him. "I'm Annabeth Chase. I work for Doctor Lynch."

The alarm bells in Percy's mind automatically went off. His eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me…this is his method of helping me, isn't it?"

Annabeth blinked. "As a matter of fact, yes, it is."

"So let me guess…he's making you sleep with me in an attempt to get me addicted to something else, right?"

Annabeth's face went red. "No!" she exclaimed. "I'm not here to have sex with you!"

A man who lived in the apartment down the hall stepped outside just as she said that. He raised a brow at Percy, and Percy just grinned. "She's just in denial that she's madly in love with me. Everything's fine."

He quickly grabbed her and yanked her inside before shutting the door. He glared at her. "Could you not yell things like that? My neighbors will think I'm a pedophile or something."

Annabeth just rolled her eyes. "Pretty soon they won't have something like that to think about you. You'll be dead within weeks."

Percy groaned. "Not this bullshit again."

"It's not bullshit. It's reality. Doctor Lynch hired me to help you quit smoking before it's too late."

"Yeah well ol' Lynchie doesn't know when to keep his nose out of my business."

He started walking off to the kitchen again to finish—or actually start—making his dinner. Annabeth followed him and crossed her arms.

"So you're just giving up on life, then?"

"Life gave up on me long ago. I'm just trying to help it out in its mission to get rid of me."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so dramatic."

"I'm the farthest thing from dramatic. People in my position would have either killed themselves already or made a big fuss about how their life sucked. I'm less theatrical. I'm going out silently and practically begging."

"That's just sad."

Percy's eye twitched. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, staring at her while holding his cigarette with his thumb and pointer finger. "So then what are you exactly? A friend of his, cousin, common hooker…?"

"Stop calling me a hooker! I'm not a hooker!"

"Well then you shouldn't dress like one."

She glared furiously at him. "You're really annoying. Maybe I should just let you die."

"Good, that's what I wanted. Now get out of my house."

Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm a caretaker for Ron. I help him with his special patients."

Percy pouted. "I'm not special. I know exactly what I want. And damn, first names? You had to have had sex with him to be on a first name basis!"

She clenched her teeth together and Percy mentally smirked at her annoyance.

"My job is to save your life, and so for the next two months—if you even live that long—I'm going to be living with you twenty four seven."

Percy froze, his cigarette hanging from his mouth. "You're shitting me."

"I shit you not."

"This is a joke." He shook his head. "I don't need saving."

"At this point, it's not up to you. Since the moment Doctor Lynch has deemed you unfit to take care of yourself, your health and well being has been in our hands. It's my job to save people, and you're my next patient."

Percy scowled as he took out his TV dinner and a fork before plopping down at the kitchen table. "I'm really starting to hate you and Doctor Lynch. This has to be illegal."

"As a matter of fact, it's not, so suck it up and quit whining." Annabeth went and stood before him as he chewed his heated crap and glared at the wall.

"Why can't you people just let me live my last days in peace?"

"Because there's still a chance that you can be saved."

Percy sighed and looked up at her and the look of fierce determination on her face. Nothing was going to stop her.

He scowled, realizing he had no choice. Annabeth smiled and took that as a sign that she had won the argument. Now began the long process of healing this man.

Like I said, different. But I have a good idea of the plot. My goal with Percy is to make him the sarcastic, rude guy who is indifferent about a major event happening to him. I have a good feeling about this story, but let me know if I should continue it. The inspiration for this chapter was the song 'Fuck You' by Lily Allen. It's great :D

Thanks for reading and REVIEW and let me know if I should continue!

-Akatsuki Child