Questing was always a pain. You'd learnt to dissociate throughout the major events, not letting the fights, constant torment, and sleep deprivation get to you.

You were a demigod. Of course, you were expected to deal with it. Demigods never lead normal lives, never grew up in normal families, and never ever had normal childhoods. That was normal. That was expected.

You always had to bounce back. Always. People relied on you. People needed you.

Like Percy, for instance. You'd been best friends since you were twelve. No matter what happened, he somehow always weaved his way into your situation. At least if you were struggling, you weren't struggling alone.

It was late at night. You'd just finished fighting for your life for the fifth day in a row, and the both of you were travelling to Manhattan through the underground train line.

You'd zoned out watching the stations zip by, fighting sleep, and fighting the annoyance that bubbled inside of you every time the man parallel to you begun to snore.

You felt the boy next to you move, snapping you out of your thoughts. He looked tired, worn out, and completely done with demigod-ing. You couldn't blame him.

Percy met your gaze. His nose was busted up, and his lip was bleeding, but still, he offered a weak smile.