Percy POV-
The next day, the man came back. But this time, he had another man with him.

"Percy it's time for your check up." The man said.

"Couldn't you have done this while I was sleeping." I grumbled softly to myself.

I stared blankly at him and waited for his next words.

He sat down at the same place he did yesterday, and observed as the doctor man can up to me.

"Please remove your shirt." He said.

"No." I said simply.

I was wearing the same clothes I was wearing when I came here, and I knew I looked like a mess.

"If you don't do it we will find a way to do it for you."

I figured if I did what they said, they might leave sooner, so I slowly took my sweatshirt off, and then my shirt. It's not like they didn't expect scars.

They just didn't expect this many.

There's eyes widened, scanning the worst of them.

I knew where each and every scar came from. I remember getting them all.

There was burns, dagger strikes, whip lashes, sword wounds. You name it, I've got it.

Many people didn't know this, but even with the curse of Achilles, you could still get scars. The blade may not harm you, but that didn't mean it didn't leave a permanent reminder on your skin

But worst of all, I was branded.

Right above my heart, was a T, K, and G burned into my skin. I'm guessing your smart enough to know were they came from.

A permanent reminder off all I've been through. And on my side, I had more brands.

Sort of like the Roman one, there was a tally for every day I spent in Tartarus before escaping them and finding the friendly giant.

There was 40 of them total. 38 of them worse then the others, symbolizing the time we were in captivity.

Before you ask, no. They didn't do it to Annabeth. The price? More torture for me. But it was worth it.

I looked to the floor, not wanting to see there pity.

"What–" The man started.

"I told you you wouldn't understand. Now do you believe me?" I interrupted.

"Now Percy–"

"Don't now Percy me. You won't understand me, you never will, and you won't be able to help me."

"I'll prove you wrong." He said.

"I'd like to see you try." I snarled.

"Don't worry, you will. Now on with the checkup."

The doctor shakily brought a stethoscope–that's what there called, right?–to my heart and listened to it beat.

Once he was done with that, he wrote something down on a clipboard and moved on to the next thing.

"Do you mind telling me were you got these scars Percy?" He asked.

"My many enemies." I replied, not planing on giving them a lot of information.

"And why are they your enemies?" The other guy asked.

I shrugged and said, "They wanted vengeance for something I didn't do, they wanted to take over the world, or they wanted to hurt my family."

"Your parents or the gods?" He asked, slightly confused.

"Neither. My friends. My home."

It's true, I had always felt like Mom, Paul, New York, it was all my second home. My real home, was at Camp Half Blood with my friends. Or on one of the adventures I always found myself on. But it was all gone now, and Mom was the only home I had left.

He raised an eyebrow and said, "So you don't consider your house with your Mom your real home?"

"I didn't say that, but always hard to feel at home when your not safe."

"Anything else?"

"Of course, but I'm not telling you."

"You will eventually." He said.

---
Sorry for not updating sooner...I completely forgot I already had this chapter written.