Jason's vision went black. The pain on his body changed from a fiery, hot torture to a cool, ice-like chill. His limbs went static. His tongue was dry and his lips stuck together like glue.

His mind raced.

He desperately tried to move. To make a sound. Anything that would indicate he was alive. His chest didn't rise or fall, and his eyelids remained open despite him not being able to see. His heart wasn't beating.

Jason wanted to scream. He wanted to cry out. Jason wanted to curse the gods above and begged to be taken by Mors... he then begged to Thanos. He wanted something, anything but this blank slate.

He wasn't floating, but he couldn't feel anything. He didn't feel the ripped flesh that created jagged wounds over his chest. The blood that seeped out of his body didn't have any effect. His body wasn't able to process the warm trickles of crimson liquid.

His heart still wasn't beating. Jason would have started hyperventilating if he could.

The static feeling in his hands and feet were gone. He felt like an empty vessel.

Why wasn't Mors taking his soul? Why wasn't he being whisked away to the underworld, to be judged and seen before the mighty god Pluto? 

What felt like years could have been seconds and what felt like minutes could be decades. Jason couldn't tell. He didn't have the luxury of hearing a clock tick. He didn't have the opportunity to see the light of the sun, the chariot rode by Apollo. He was like a corpse, but worse.

There was only so much you could do to keep from going insane.

——— Life Two ———
Zero

Jason was revived on a Sunday morning. His lungs inhaled stale air, and his nostrils were filled with the heavy scent of disinfectant. His body was slowly moving. His fingers flexed and his entire body hurt.

He let out a scream. Sobbing as his body felt like it was being torn to shreds. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. It hit the sides of his rib cage. His ears opened to the sounds of his screams.

His eyelids were heavy and he began to get cold. The pain was dying down.

His mouth filled with saliva and his chest was being touched by something big. The hands were removed as he was lifted. He managed to crack his eyes open, a squeak falling out of his mouth uncontrollably. Something covered him in a soft blanket. The fleece felt nice against his skin.

A man with greasy brown hair smiled at him. The older man had tears in his eyes. They slid down his face, past the large grin he had and down his neck. Jason wiggled his toes.

"He's beautiful, Karla. He's so beautiful." The older man sobbed.

Jason was confused, what was going on?

——— Life Two ———
Four

"Look, Ma!" Jason screeched. His pudgy hands were covered in paint. Streaks of orange and purple covered the white paper. Circles rising as the paint was drenching the surface.

Jason had brown hair now, but his eyes were the same vibrant blue. The scar on his lip had turned into a birth mark. His pale skin was covered in thick amounts of paint.

The child giggled as he sloppily painted.

"What did you make, sweetie?" His new mother asked. Her eyes peeked at his paper with a fond smile. The woman had streaks of purple mixed into her brown hair. Her eyes taking in the painting of something Jason couldn't quite place.

The four year old puffed out his chest. He grinned, obviously smug.

"It's Camp J-Jupeeter and Camp Hawve Blood!" He stated. He stumbled over a few words. His hands were still on the paper. Paint oozing from the creases in his palms.

——— Life Two ———
Eleven

The brunet boy looked out the window in boredom. It was the beginning of fifth grade and the new teacher was late. And on top of that, his desk buddy was a no show. He fixed the glasses on his face with a sigh.

Jason rubbed his lips together before averting his attention to the classroom. The cheesy posters of cartoon animals seemed to tease him. The bright colors made his head hurt.

The classroom was disturbingly quiet. Most kids had begun talking amongst themselves in whispers. The principal was a scary, middle-aged woman with eyes like a dragon. Jason liked to think of her as a monster from the Greek mythology stories his mom use to tell him at bedtime.

Her name was Mrs. Dodds, and more than once had she made each child in Jason's class cry, wet their pants, lock themselves into closets, or all of the above. Jason didn't particularly care for her, but that was because his dad was an old friend of his. Something like an old college roommate.

But all because the 11-year old tolerated her didn't meant he liked her. He thought she smelled like burnt toast and her wig looked cheap.

The door opened and in walked a small boy. He had green eyes. Jason stared and soon they made eye contact. His entire body went cold.

"So Superman, how does it feel to know that the war is done?" Percy smirked as he swung his arm over Jason's shoulders. The blond chuckled and looked at him. He stared at the son of Poseidon's lips.

"You've survived two now, you tell me." Jason shot back. Percy rolled his eyes fondly.

"All right smart guy," He said.

"Meet at dinner?" Jason asked. Percy nodded before being pulled away by a younger camper. The younger camper yelling that they were in desperate need of sword training.

Jason was left breathing heavily and staring at the new kid. He looked at the name tag set on the desk next to him. His heart was beating wildly.

Percy the name tag read.

The boy, Percy, was running to him. His hands stretched out to touch Jason. Jason felt tears in his eyes. His insides burned.

The moment their hands touched he was thrown into another memory.

"Good luck on your quest, Perce." Jason said. The son of Jupiter held on gingerly to Percy's hand. Percy lifted Jason's knuckles to his face. He pressed a soft kiss to his hand before speaking.

"I doubt you'll miss me. You have a quest set for tomorrow. You'll be too preoccupied." He dismissed with a soft smile. Jason shook his head.

"How could I not remember to miss my idiot boyfriend?" He questioned, making Percy laugh. His hands were pulled from Jason's grasp.

"Love you, Superman. Don't die!"

Percy was still holding his hand. His face was slack. His eyes were sad pools of sea-green.

Slowly, Percy lifted Jason's hand up to his lips.

He kissed his knuckles.

"You died on me, you jerk."

A/n:
Hey guys! Thank you for everything! I'm trying to update this fanfic more often. Any requests will be take within reason! Aka no smut. Heavy make out sessions are fine if in moderation. Anyway,

Bye!!

- Bridget