He heard the footsteps. Of course she didn't. They couldn't run. They couldn't hide. She didn't breathe. She couldn't live. He tried to hold on. He found himself losing it as he stared into the lifeless green eyes. Her blood was everywhere. Even dead it wouldn't stop. It created a pool, a pool of blood. His concussion made his head throb. Retreating footsteps, yells, screams, gunfire. All repeating in the boy's head. His black hair was stuck to his forehead in sweat as he was shot once more. He felt himself let go of the red haired girl, as he lay as a crumpled figure next to her. More retreating footsteps, then nothing. Nothing except the gasped out sounds of the one boy, and the coldness radiating off of the dead girl. The boy tried to close his sea green eyes, but a voice in the back of his head told him to stay awake. He still felt himself drifting away. Footsteps. Running footsteps. He heard himself make a noise, and in his head he pleaded for no more. He raised his hand, whispering the words he had learned as a small boy. He heard himself scream, and then he blacked out. Unfortunately, not for good.
Four Years Later
A nineteen-year-old Percy Jackson lay in his bed at his apartment. Another boy, sixteen years old, sat next to him in a. uncomfortable wooden chair.
"Percy, are you awake?" The sixteen-year-old boy, Nico asked. He got no reply. Nico ran a hand through his own black messy hair, sighing. A few minutes later, in a small whisper Percy replied.
"Yes." Nico slightly jumped. He wasn't expecting an answer. He never expected an answer from Percy. He never expected anything from Percy.
"Oh." Nico says, leaning back in the chair. Nico looks off to his right, looking at the puke colored curtains that Percy liked.
"You haven't seen the sun in a while…" Nico says. He feels like an intruder somehow. The room in so silent, so vulnerable, and his voice is so strong and deep. It feels as though he's destroyed a strong empire every time he speaks.
"I'd like to keep it that way." Percy says in an emotionless voice. He weakly clasps his hands together. He has bags under his eyes. Nico doesn't under stand this. Percy sleeps almost 24/7, and he still gets bags. Nico stands up.
"This is sort of pathetic." Percy looks up a Nico, his neck cracking. He raises an eyebrow with an effort.
"You haven't left your apartment since last year! And all throughout high school you just moped and moaned!" Percy shrugs slightly, obviously not caring. Nico's had enough and makes a frustrated sound. He points a finger at the black haired, green-eyed teen.
"Face it. She's dead, and you need help." Percy closes his eyes, and doesn't respond. Nico is afraid he's fallen asleep again, and he grits his teeth. Percy pokes an eye open, surprising Nico again.
"I will get help when I am ready," He says tiredly, "Until then I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up same time tomorrow. Okay?" He fluffs his pillow with his right hand, and turns away from Nico. Nico's now clenching and unclenching his fists, contemplating whether or not to strangle Percy. He decides not to, and just as Percy's light snores take up the room, he speaks.
"I'll find you help Percy. I promise."