Chapter Text
Percy curses, the pebbles cutting into his palms as he fails to catch himself. This is the fifth time Delaney, a child of Ares, knocked him on his ass in front of everyone. The older camper snorts, not even offering a hand when Percy struggles to get back up.
“Your grip is all wonky, dude.” She starts, sharpening her blade with practiced ease.
“I doubt you’ll actually teach me like you’re supposed to and keep pushing me down till I bleed.” Percy mumbles, wiping his hands on his sand covered jeans.
Delaney guffaws, her head tilting all the way back. “You got a mouth on you, kid. Besides, running you to the ground isn’t an ego boost. You’re a lost cause, Jackson. I’m just doing this to fill out my daily chart.”
Percy rolls his eyes, unsurprised. It seems as if the entire camp hates his guts. The first couple of days after he woke up from his minotaur induced coma, it seemed as if the entire camp were curious to see what this new guy was about. People were coming up to him for days on end just trying to take a peek at the new camper.
But when they found out he’s just lousy twelve-year old Percy who wasn’t good at anything but sleeping, they decided he wasn’t worth their time. It got even worse after Clarrise tried to drown him in the bathrooms and she came out screaming for a father that’s never around. Percy is very good at deducing the social hierarchy of places he’s thrown at. Even at Yancy, he managed to figure out that everyone and their mother hated Nancy and were only nice to her because she had the faculty wrapped around her dirty finger. Clarisse has a startling similarity with Nancy and it’s a shame Percy managed to make the same mistake again.
“Alright, bowling pin, ready your sword.”
Percy sighs, biting his tongue as he gets into what he assumes is the right position. He tries to imitate the instructor, but they have years of experience and their sword is way bigger than his. Percy doesn't know much about sword fighting or physics in general, but he’s pretty sure weight balance and height have an effect on how you hold a weapon. Whatever. He’s going to be humiliated again. Makes no sense to correct his form now. There’s only five minutes left in the class anyways. He’s more than used to embarrassment by now. He can hold out till then. It’s a good thing that Annabeth girl isn't around. She’ll run his name through the mud.
“You’re defense, I’m on offense.”
Percy glares “Like it’s been the past hundred times we did this.”
The child of Ares doesn’t laugh this time; their eyes narrowing with focus as they lounge into position. Percy does the same but knows he looks way more clumsy.
The onlookers that were gathered start to disperse, seemingly bored at Percy’s poor attempts of showing talent. At least it wasn’t going as horribly as archery practice did; he hopes that girl’s eye is okay.
“Ready…and…strike!”
Delaney pounces, sword slicing the air like a snake’s tongue. Percy barely has time to dodge, stepping left to avoid a hit on his right. Delaney goes back on the attack again, blade going over her head as she tries to bring it down on his. Percy is ready for it and he lifts his sword up, the bronze making impact. There’s too much force and pain swallows up his arms, causing them to twitch. He sees the moment Delaney detects his stumble, and she wastes no time to jump forward and hook her leg on his left. She pulls back and his whole body teeters, crashing to the floor before the fight even begins.
Percy punches the ground in anger. Forget trying to overcome his shame. This is humiliating. Delaney isn’t even trying to hide their amusement, openly laughing in his face. His cheeks heat up and he’s this close to jumping up and shoving his sword where he knows she won’t recover–
“Alright, Delaney, I’ll take over now.”
Percy looks up at the new voice, and almost collapses when he sees who it is. Luke Castellan is something of a legend around camp, especially in the arena. Luke can take down eight campers at once without blinking an eye. He could definitely be the leader of camp if Chiron were to ever retire and go back to the stables (Percy doesn’t know what centaurs do when they retire. Do they fulfill their dreams of being a racehorse on the track and winning medals despite the fact they’re not a regular horse like that one zebra in the movie Racing Stripes? Percy has too many questions and not enough answers). Luke even has Annabeth, of all people, absolutely infatuated with him. It makes Percy gag every time he sees it and he doesn’t think he’s going to recover anytime soon.
However, Luke is a song Percy’s heard before; a charismatic guy that charms everyone with his smile and generous favors with enough of an intimidating aura that commands respect. It’s a nice facade, too nice, and pretty soon the weak links realize his kindness is gilded and starts treating them like trash. And if Luke is a song; Gabe was the whole opera.
Percy would be a fool to make that mistake again.
He frowns when Luke reaches a hand out, completely ignoring what Delaney is trying to prattle at the golden boy. He studies the hand like it’s a scorpion; still before a strike. Luke doesn’t move, if anything, his smile only grows wider when he catches Percy’s hesitance.
“I won’t bite.” He starts, which is the absolute worst thing to say to literally anyone ever. Percy makes sure his face says as much. Luke retreats his hand, stuffing it in his pocket instead as if saving it for later. “Sorry about Delaney here; she isn’t the best at being fair.”
Delaney shrugs, a smile Percy has never seen before making itself known on her face. Damn. He wonders if it's the blue eyes or maybe Luke is secretly a vampire and is hypnotizing everyone with whatever hormonal chemistry science vampires have that changes with every piece of media. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it; do vampires exist now? He would’ve rather had Ms. Dodds being a vampire than whatever the fuck mutated horror fest she twisted into. Or maybe–
Not the time, Percy. Focus. Focus
When he zones back in, he silently rejoices in the fact that he didn’t miss much. Or, judging by the way Delaney’s making googly eyes at the son of Hermes and the way he’s basking in it like a plant on Mercury, he isn’t as thrilled anymore. Maybe a little nauseated.
The daughter of Hermes digs her sword into the ground, leaning on the hilt with both hands as she blinks up at Luke “My name literally means ‘dark challenger.’ It isn’t my fault Jackson couldn’t handle it.”
Luke smiles back at her and Percy tries not to think about how it makes his dimples show “I could barely handle you, Laney. Percy is a beginner. The least you could do is start with the basics.”
Delaney shrugs “I did. S’not my fault the kid’s stupid. Even the minotaur took pity on what a sorry sight he was.”
Damn. She could’ve just poured lemon juice in his eyes and even that wouldn’t compare to the stinging in his chest right now. People calling him dumb has to be his name by now for how many times he’s heard it in his life so far. Sometimes he takes it in stride, not giving the person much attention past a glare or a scoff. Sometimes he snaps and teachers have to hold him back from maiming some kid with a No2 Dixon Ticonderoga. Those two things he’s used to. This pain, the one that starts in his stomach and travels to the back of his eyes isn’t new; but it is rare. He’s not sure why it’s triggered this time. Maybe because she’s older than him, maybe it’s because everyone at this damn camp seems to be a lot more talented in everything than he is, or perhaps it’s the fact that he spent hours trying to work on his form and was pushed down time after time and got up again and again only to fail, and fail, and fail, but always kept going because he had hope that he’ll actually do better this time, only to realize the person who is supposed to help him thought he was a lost cause in the beginning and only kept sparring with him because it was amusing or some sick twisted sense of pity.
Or maybe, it’s simply because this is the last thing at this new and scary place that he might actually be good at or at least is interested in and if he fails this, then what else does he have? His mother is gone, his home life is gone, his sense of the world is gone and now he can;t adjust to this Wonderland he’s been tossed in. And, as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he’s embarrassed that she said something in front of Luke. Percy is still cautious of the demigod, but he seemed to be the only one at this fucking camp to show him some kindness and make him feel like an actual person than a specktical to be spat at. Delanely calling him stupid [and since he’s being honest right now, the minotaur comment was totally uncalled for and is making it hard for him to breathe right now] right in front of Luke makes it seem like all his truths are unveiled and he feels ugly even though he really doesn’t know Luke yet.
He comes to a startling realization that the pain building behind his eyes is actually tears trying to escape, but if he can’t leave the situation, neither can they. He glares down at the ground and tries to will them away; he has enough embarrassment for one day. He also can’t stand to look at their faces, shame roasting his cheeks alive.
It’s silent for a few moments and Percy is honestly starting to believe they teleported away when Luke speaks up.
“What the fuck , Delaney?” His tone is low, menacing, and so unlike the cheeky bastard smirk he had when he first approached them. Percy snaps his head up and he tenses when he sees absolute fury in Luke’s face. With the sun at a low angle, his scar stands out like a shadow. His blue eyes catch the sunset; looking almost gold.
Delaney frowns, posture straightening when she notices the seriousness in Luke’s voice “Don’t tell me you’re actually mad about what I said. You haven’t been here Luke; he’s a mess.”
“You don’t say shit like that about people. What the fuck is wrong with you.”
The child of Ares looks surprised, putting her hands up in defense “Whatever. Go have fun wasting your time. Not like I didn’t warn you.” She pulls her sword out the ground, stalking away to some bystanding campers who were watching the situation with cautious interest.
Now left alone with a calming down Luke, Percy feels a little numb. It felt like watching a movie with dub and the audio doesn’t match with the mouths on screen. If Percy recycles through his memories of the last two minutes, did Luke really just stand up for him? It sounds a bit desperate and a bit sad that he sounds so surprised by this, but he’s truly in shock right now.
The subject in question lets out a heavy sigh; ruffling the back of his hair and turning to face Percy with genuine upset in his face “She had no right to speak to you like that.”
Percy shrugs, brushing the support away. Self-deprecation is an instinct at this point.
Luke shakes his head “She’s wrong, you know. I’ve been watching you for a while now. You’re better than half of the kids here, and that’s not an exaggeration.”
Percy snorts “I’m not sure if you’re just trying to be nice or was actually watching the wrong person, because I sucked total ass today.”
Luke opens his mouth but then snaps it closed; heavy thought passing over him like a raincloud. He breathes out then turns away “Follow me.”
If there was one thing his mother taught him it’s not to listen to random strangers when they beckon you to follow them. But something in the demigod's voice, the confidence and wisdom in his posture has Percy taking a step, and another until they’re both walking out of the arena and to the Lava Wall. Campers are racing up the wall like monkeys scrambling up a tree. Their orange shirts are scorched and torn like the lava sunk its teeth in. Percy hasn’t gone on it yet, but he doesn’t really see the appeal. More campers are falling off of it than climbing. One boy makes it only a few feet up before a flame jumps on his arm and he lands backwards straight on his back. The sobs are painful to hear.
“Why did you bring me here”
“To show you what matters.” Luke reaches out and gestures to the wall “This has been a camp activity since, forever. People think it’s here just because of the adrenaline rush, but they’re vain, or maybe too young, to understand the meaning.
“Every camper on that wall falls. It’s nearly impossible not to. Your hands are blistered, the rocks are too hot; it’s Tartarus. Sometimes there are campers to see who can climb the fastest or see how far they can go, only once with their friends then call it quits. But the important ones, the campers who will truly survive in the world, are the ones who keep getting back up knowing that they’ll make it to the top. You see Annabeth over there?”
Percy squints, trying to find the curly headed blonde when he spots her on the medium level, dodging fireballs and steam like it's nothing.
“Annabeth hated the Lava Wall. But once she sets her mind on a challenge, she’ll hyperfocus until it’s completed. I think out of everyone here, she's the one who fell the most, yet made it the farthest.” He turns to look at him and Percy observes the sincerity and passion in the older boy’s eyes “You fell the most today, but you always got back up. You have a determination I haven’t seen since Tha–um, a person I knew once before. I want to help you. I think you’ll be a great swordsman if you’re taught correctly.”
Is it possible to feel your eyes sparkle, because Percy will never accept the fact that tears are gathering in his eyes and he can actually breathe for the first time since his mother’s been taken. Someone believes in him. Someone believes in him . How can he let him down? How can he stop trying now. Percy understands why the camp loves Luke.
And when the next few weeks go by and Luke keeps to his promise and trains Percy from dawn to dusk,the song of mistrust and deceit starts to fade away. And when one day Luke knocks him on his back and instead of making fun of him the elder lays down next to him and tells him stories of his quest and his first time holding a sword, Percy doesn’t even remember there ever being a song
And a few weeks later when the scorpion actually does strike, Percy wonders how he could be so stupid to let that song go.