AN: This fic is written for Princess Anonymous in the Association of Crazy People Easter fic exchange.

Prompts:

1. When are you going to realize that I'm never going to let you go?

2. You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.

3. You can torture us, kill us, annihilate our home, but you'll never be able to destroy us. Not now, not ever.

Sorry it's crap, Nemo. I just wasn't in a position where I could focus on this fic like I should've. But maybe, hopefully, you'll like it anyway.

~Ro

Brothers

I stared at the creamy water and wondered if I was doing the right thing, if I was really doing what was best. For me, the Underworld wasn't a frightening place, but the River Lethe, now that was scary, scarier even than the Styx. The thought of having my entire identity erased: my memories, every thought or feeling I ever had, my whole history wiped from my mind…that was terrifying, but it had to be done.

When I was alive, I never really thought about death, much less rebirth, but there I was, dealing with both. The decision to be reborn should've been an easy one, but knowing what would be lost made it anything but. Honestly, I didn't have much to lose. Anything I ever had was annihilated: my home, my family, my life…it had all been destroyed. There was only one thing that made me hesitate, and that was Nico. He was the one thing I didn't want to let go.

I love my little brother. He was my whole world for the longest time, and there was nothing I wouldn't do for him in life and in death. He was the reason I was standing on the shore of the Lethe. He was the reason for my hesitation. He was the reason I had to do it. As much as I didn't want to let him go, I had to for him. He couldn't accept my death; he still can't. And he'll stop at nothing to bring me back to the land of the living. He's tried it time and time again, and it has to stop. He has to accept the fact that I'm dead, and I'm not coming back. He has to grieve, let it out, and then let it go. If he doesn't, it'll consume him more than it already has. The only way he'll ever move on is if I move on, too. When he realizes I've been reborn, he'll know there's nothing more he can do, nothing more he can try. He'll have no choice but to give up on ever getting me back, and he'll finally be able to move past this obsession and get on with his life.

I was doing this for him. My rebirth was going to be for him. I didn't want to forget him. Gods, I didn't want to forget him, but I had to. It was the right thing to do; it was the only thing to do. And so I knelt down on the sandy shore and repeated in my head: I won't forget you, not now, not ever over and over as I cupped my hand and dipped it into the creamy water. I brought the water to my mouth, I won't forget you, not now, not ever, and I drank.

…

He was just a baby, and he was adorable. I used to hold him for hours; it was one of the few things that calmed me down. Even at only seven years old, I knew I had ADHD, and I often wondered if he would be the same way when he got older. As short as his attention span was, I figured he would. Our already unstable mother was going to have her hands full…well, more full.

He was my brother, and I had this overwhelming sense of loyalty and responsibility toward that blond-haired, blue-eyed boy. There was nothing I wouldn't do for Jason. I loved him, he was my world, then he was gone.

I didn't know what happened to him. I thought he was dead; she told me he was dead, and I immediately blamed myself. I shouldn't have left him alone with our mother; I knew better, but I did it anyway. I was only gone for a few minutes, and when I came back, he was gone. I was hysterical. I searched for him until my mother dragged me away kicking and screaming. I already hated my mother, but at that moment, I was done with her. Our home, our family was broken, annihilated, and she caused it. Jason was really the only reason I stuck around anyway, and when he disappeared, I took off and never looked back.

I couldn't understand why my baby brother had to die and I got to live, and I blamed myself for his death for the longest time. I think that's why I never told anyone about him, not even my closest friends. I was ashamed…ashamed that I couldn't protect him, couldn't save him, and the guilt tortured me.

The years went by, and I tried to forget, if only to save my sanity. It took a while for me to realize that trying to erase my baby brother from my memories was futile. I would never be able to let him go. And so I stashed his memory down deep in my soul where no one but me could ever find it. There were days I thought about him, and days I didn't. When I did think about him, I often wondered how different things would be if he hadn't died. I wondered what he would've been like as a teenager: what he would've looked like, how he would've acted, if he would've been anything like me. I guess there came a point when I came to terms with his death, because eventually, when I thought about him, I didn't feel that anger or guilt anymore; I just felt happy that I had a brother, for however brief a time.

On a cold day in December, everything I thought I knew about Jason changed. On that day, I stepped into a cave at Pikes Peak during a blizzard and came face-to-face with the brother I thought was dead. Shock was probably the best word to describe how I felt. All this time, I thought he was dead, and he wasn't. It was a surreal feeling to see my brother alive, and to hug the neck and touch the face of the boy who used to be my whole world. I was so thankful that he was alive, but it wasn't the same. He didn't know me, nor did I know him. We were family, flesh and blood, but we were also strangers. He was only two years old when he disappeared, but he wasn't that baby anymore; he was well on his way to becoming a grown man. I stared at the handsome young man in a kind of amazed trance as I tried to piece together how this teenager was once that adorable baby I used to rock to sleep.

As I sat and talked to my brother for the first time ever, the anger I felt about the years we had stolen from us faded away, and I began to realize just how lucky we were to have finally found one another. The pain of losing him all those years ago began to slip away. I looked into the eyes of the stranger sitting next to me, and I made myself a vow: we wouldn't be strangers for long, because we'd already lost too much time together, and no matter what, nothing would tear us apart again. Not now, not ever.

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO.