Can't Pretend ─── Heroes of Olympus

xiv. my takeaway from this? i need therapy

chapter fourteen

─── my takeaway from this? i need therapy

"ℌey, thank the gods. I've found you." I wasn't in the warehouse anymore. Looking around, my eyebrows furrowed. There was no monster, no warehouse, no threat and worst of all, no Piper and Leo.

The place was dark, night drawing in and covering the surrounding area so that I couldn't work out where we were precisely. Columns were encasing us, holding up a large marble ceiling. Stone floors were cold beneath me, and I twisted to try and find who was speaking.

"Am I dead?" I didn't think that I'd been hit that hard that I was now in a completely different place. "Wha-"

"You're alive." The voice was familiar, breathing out and I twisted. There was a tall man hovering over an altar in front of a large statue, clutching onto the stone like he couldn't move. "I need you to listen to me, Goldie."

I drew closer.

"I don't know where you are or what happens, but knowing you're alive-" He sighed, trailing off. "Look, I need to know where you are, anything that you can tell me, why you're not coming home and-"

I drew closer as the man winced. Blood was dripping down his hands, dropping onto the altar as he groaned.

"What have you done?" I didn't know how I knew it was bad, but I knew it was bad. Reaching forward, I tried to grab onto him, but my hand fell through him. I couldn't touch him and I let out an annoyed huff. "You're bleeding."

A long cut ran down his arm, bleeding across the altar, and his eyes were closed.

"Spilling blood on the altar symbols protection and life-giving in Ancient Rome. I know you told me not to do this, that it's too much power, but I had to find you."

I knew that face. It was Octavian, the one from my dreams. His face was marred in pain, deep bags beneath his eyes and skin pale. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, his blond hair a mess atop his head. It was longer than last time, his fringe falling in front of his face and covering his eyes.

"Octavian."

"You've never called me that." He opened his eyes, looking through me. He was twisting around to try and find where I was. Octavian's voice was pained, whether from the bleeding or from me. "You always call me Tav, just Tav. Where are you?"

"I'm here. I'm next to you." I gulped. Who was this man to have this much worry to search for me? He was spilling his own blood to find me, how much did I mean to him?

"Where are you?"

"I don't know. My memories have gone. I-" I tried to speak, but I couldn't get any words across to him. I couldn't tell him why my memories have gone.