Drabble-ish Sequel-non-sequel-ish

Finished: June 2, 2014

A/N: So the last sequel didn't really work out, but you probably noticed that. Let's say that this is a mini, mirrored version of the sequel in drabble form.

Artemis's POV

She stood where her father had died three years ago. The grass had grown since last time she visited his grave, battle scars almost healed. That hole Gaea swallowed her father in and Lord Chaos brought him out from was the only reminder of such a war against Mother Earth. Demigods didn't think much of it, except that an important camper died there. It seemed they steered clear of it. Artemis rather liked it this way.

She took a deep breath, hunching her shoulders, and knelt to the disturbed ground. She did that a lot now- hunching her shoulders, as if she carried a permanent weight on her shoulders. She admitted defeat on the world.

If only Artemis had only been reasonable and thought ahead three years ago. She shouldn't have run away like she did- leaving her father, her mother, and her teacher unconscious at the infirmary. Maybe then her father would still be alive. Maybe then her father would have resumed his position as Commander.

It was all her fault. She was the one that let her guard down and allowed herself to be kidnapped by Ouranos. It was all her.

Someone had to have suffered from this- that someone was her father. She felt tears on their way as she picked up one of the pebbles from the perimeter of the mini abyss. What if she killed herself to bring him back? Was that even possible?

Artemis stretched her hand out, swallowed hard, and let the small object leave her grasp. The pebble seemed to taunt her as it disappeared from view.

She waited a moment.

And another.

Yet another.

Artemis wondered if the forgotten hole was as deep as she fathomed.

Maybe the pebble had reached the bottom and she didn't hear it. Maybe a rock colliding with soil didn't make such a loud plunk as she though. Well, only one way to be sure. Artemis chose another, larger, pebble, unconsciously driving her fingernail at its surface.

She threw the pebble with force then into the hole. Artemis waited once more.

She was debating on whether to leave and declare no bottom to the relic of Camp Half-Blood when she heard it: the small, crisp sound of rock hitting rock. A couple seconds later and the sound repeated reasonably louder- her second rock.

Artemis closed her eyes. It sounded like the hole was thirty feet deep. If she could manage to talk to her father's killer, could they actually bring him back? And what better way to contact Gaea than the location Artemis's father died? Her eyes opened, this time more determined. One way to find out.

She laid on her stomach and leaned into the darkness, sticking her sword into the side as a foothold. Artemis brought herself up to the light once more. With both hands on the edge, she swung into the dark again.

Artemis placed a foot on the sword. When it didn't shake, she let go of her hold on the surface, letting her sword bare her weight. Just one jump and I'll get answers.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice called from above.

Artemis looked up to see a head staring down at her. She didn't recognize the person. But the voice- oh, his voice. She would never forget it in her life.

"D-dad?" she asked, her voice shaky.

The figure nodded faintly. "Artemis."

"I-I thought you were..." She couldn't bring herself to say the cruel word.

Her father held out his hand and Artemis accepted. He pulled her out from where the earth goddess received her final revenge. "I am," he said, then: "Do you remember what Luke told you?"

Artemis was surprised at his question. "About death?"

He nodded.

"He said once a soldier dies, their mental selves become stars and their physical selves roam the..." Artemis suddenly looked up at her father, alarmed. "I'm seeing a ghost?"

He knelt and looked her straight in the eyes. "You were about to kill yourself, Artemis. You were so close to death. I bet if you were below the Fates, your string would have been cut. All this in exchange for my rebirth. Why?"

"I thought..." She shook her head. No, she didn't know. But she did know. "I wanted to bring you back, dad..."

"Your death won't bring back my life," he told her gently. "Lord Chaos would have found a way if it were possible."

She could only offer him her apology now. "Dad, I-I'm sorry."

"I know, Artemis. Believe me, I know." He paused, choosing his words carefully, "Days ago, you told me you loved me."

Artemis nodded, tears clouding her vision.

"Well," he smiled sadly, "I never got to reply."

Tears were flowing freely as Artemis threw herself into her father's arms. He held her tight, like he was afraid to let her go.

"I love you, Artemis."

"I love you too, dad."

They stood like this for awhile. No one dared speak and break the silence.

"Take care of your mother for me, okay?" her father asked. "She's pretty distraught."

Artemis felt somewhat stronger now, not as crestfallen. Her father was depending on her, and she wasn't planning on letting him down. "Of course."

The hug eroded away and Artemis's father smiled sadly once more. His form grew brighter, assassin's clothes turning to match the background of grass, horizon, and bright blue sky. A wind blew him away, leaving Artemis alone again. Goodbye.

"I love you dad," she whispered, wiping away the tears. She steeled her nerves and jogged up to the borders of Camp Half-Blood, running past Thalia's pine, the Big House, volleyball courts, and toward the forest, where the ship toward Headquarters was landed.

Her mother met her at the threshold, frowning. Artemis handed her a white arrowhead one of the campers had given her, telling her it was Zoe's. Her mother stared at it as if it triggered many memories. Whatever they were, she didn't speak of them. "Mom, are you okay?" Artemis asked, remembering her father's wish.

Her mother carefully pocketed the arrowhead. "I am," she sighed. "Are you ready?"

Artemis nodded, following her mother into the ship. And this time, unlike many others, she didn't look back.

I love you, dad.