Grover - Climbing

Late December 2000

Grover (22) - (Travis (7) - Connor (6)

If Grover is to rank which of Camp Half Blood’s attractions draws the most attention, it for sure has to be the lava-spewing, 50-foot, no-rope climbing walls that slam together if not done fast enough. Just the right amount of danger to get that adrenaline going. 

No child can escape the allure of the climbing wall, much less children with ADHD and troubled pasts who were never allowed to indulge in any of life’s delights. 

Grover only wishes Travis and Connor do their climbing sessions with the rest of them rather than the solitary time they usually go at — in the middle of the night when they all should be sleeping. 

As much as this camp is meant to train demigods to survive to adulthood (or, at least, whatever adulthood they can get to), there are zero, and Grover means absolutely zilch , safety regulation. No ropes for gentle declines. No mats to cushion falls. No first aid kit within arm's reach. No adult supervision. Just the hard dirt floor, the spewing lava, boulders that drop occasionally for fun, and the infirmary run by a teenager that is basically on the other side of camp. 

The first time, it is well past curfew. Possibly 1 am in the morning though it’s hard to be sure. There are no clocks out here in the forest. But Grover hears a noise, grunts and whispers of encouragement when the night should have been dead silence barring the gentle swaying of leaves and the soft hooting of owls. He follows the sounds to see the camp’s two newest additions at it at the climbing wall. 

Does he know them well? Not at all. Just their names, that they’re the reason Grover has to buy new pants and underwear for Luke in the gift shop, that Hermes loves them enough to claim them as soon as they step foot inside Camp’s borders, and that they’re as jumpy as mice which is to be expected. Annabeth was also dodgy her first week here. It usually takes about a month or two for a demigod to fully adjust to life at camp. 

Even still, tonight is their first night here at Camp Half Blood and already they’re breaking rules. If that doesn’t tell Grover what’s waiting for them in the future, he doesn’t know what else will. 

He watches the two brothers from within the outskirts of the forest as one climbs the structure with the finesse of a baby fawn and the other watches, giggling from where he’s sitting a few feet away. 

Despite being only a mere four feet tall, the kid is surprisingly high up, at least ten feet. And currently, he’s stuck, far too short to reach the next hold, arms waving towards a jug hold like it’ll magically bring it closer. 

Grover watches them, reminiscing how Annabeth also struggled her first time on the climbing wall. She faced similar issues of being too short but a simple workaround is to extend—

Oh dear, Pan.

The kid leaps. 

And misses the hold entirely, falling ten feet. Almost on his neck too, before a last-minute correction that has the kid landing on his left elbow instead. Not that it’s much better. Horrible falling technique actually. Grover is positive the kid just broke his arm. Before he could gallop over to their side, Luke comes running out in his pajamas. Travis and Connor both bolt to their feet and weave around Luke, running back inside the cabin and locking the door behind them. 

Which does nothing as Luke simply focuses for a bit and then opens it from the outside, stepping inside and slamming the door shut behind him. 

Grover never did hear what Luke had to say, but from what Annabeth told him, it was a long lecture about obeying curfew and the paltry rules of the climbing wall (which is just climbing during daylight hours and with another person who can and will call for help). 

Do the two brothers listen? 

No. Not at all. 

The second night and the third, they’re using the climbing wall in the middle of the night once again in solitude. Their falls each and every time as scary as the first. The thing is, they’re not falling properly, half the time landing on their hands, elbows, and one time horrifyingly enough, head first. The 5 feet, 10 feet they’re falling from is frightening enough. But once they’re making it up 20 feet? 25 feet? Or, Zeus forbid, they fall when they’re close to the top of the 50-foot wall? Falling right versus falling wrong is the difference between a broken bone versus instant death. 

Nectar can do a lot but it won’t bring back the dead. 

Luke is about seconds away from a heart attack, even making two shrouds for his new half-brothers just in case. As much as Luke likes to cry and moan about how annoyed he is for the whip cream fiasco, all of them can see how much Luke adores his half-siblings. 

And Grover has never been one for senseless deaths. 

But he can’t approach the two children easily like he can with the rest of the other campers. The two brothers scatter when he comes anywhere near them. He’s used to this though. He’s been trained actually, as part of his how-to-convince-the-demigod-you-found-that-you’re-a-friend program, to not take it personally. Meeting a satyr for the first time is always an awkward experience. So he doesn’t push the issue. 

Instead he got an idea on a way to get the message across. 

“Watch this, Grover. I finally figured out how to move past this hold,” Annabeth Chase proclaims to him proudly, just seven years old but a far more proficient climber than half the campers here. 

Grover nods and from his peripheral, he can see two heads bobbing just below the bushes that surround the amphitheater. Ah good. Travis and Connor are spying on them just like they had the past 3 days. 

Annabeth has come a long way since her first climb, moving upwards with precise, carefully planned and calculated moves. He doesn’t need to give her any advice. There’s a good chance she might get huffy if he does, especially if he says what he is about to say now. But there are no other campers who go on the climbing wall daily like Annabeth does, and Grover needs to get this message out ASAP. 

“Remember, when you fall, fall feet first then roll onto your back. Tuck your arms in,” he says louder than he needs to, hopefully loud enough that the brothers hear him. 

Annabeth freezes 20 feet above ground, her head turning just enough for him to see her glare. 

“I know that, Grover. You told me this months ago.”

“Just checking to see if you remember,” Grover chuckles nervously. A horrible lie. Of course Annabeth remembers. Her photographic memory never fails her. “And don’t lock your knees when you fall. It should be bent.”

“I know. You told me that too.” 

“Don’t land on your knees or your hands. But if you can’t avoid it, then try rolling—”

“Grover,” Annabeth seethes, readjusting her hold on a sloper, “I’m going to fall if you keep telling me things I already know.” 

Grover shuts up and hopes that is enough to prevent any injuries. Maybe he should demonstrate the proper technique for them. But he has never fallen off the climbing wall, nor has Annabeth. Would that be too obvious what he’s doing? Besides once you’re past the third-quarter mark, falling is not an option unless you want to die. 

Annabeth powers her way through the last few feet to the top, jumping into the air with both her fists pumped in the air in excitement. Another day, another accomplishment. 

She walks down from the side-stairs and gives him a crossed lecture of not repeating the same thing twice, before bolting away to find Travis and Connor to torment them about their birthing situation. Grover doesn’t know the specifics, but it’s something about them being twins. 

The coming night, the fourth night, he sees the brothers at it again. He watches them from the outskirts of the forest like he usually does. They’re definitely getting better, if not at least definitely getting farther on the wall compared to their first few nights. 

Grover watches them intently. They’re… not half bad, not as good as Annabeth when she first started but, for sure, far better than Lee and Chris. At least they’re having fun if the suppressed giggles and giddy smiles mean anything. Grover watches one of the brothers climb higher and higher, 5 feet, 10 feet, 15 feet (their new best! He quietly claps for them. Finally, the kid realizes that jumping for the hold is not the way to go) only for the kid’s arms to give out at feet 18. 

Grover’s heart pounds as he watches the boy plummet to the ground. Rather than flail, the arms tuck in and the kid is trying to right himself so his feet land first. And it does! It’s not perfect, the knees are straighter than Grover would have liked but the boy did try to distribute the impact of the fall as he rolls onto his back and that’s enough for now.

Grover is so relieved he could cry. Luke would be happy to know that he’s not going to wake up to a dead half-brother. He’ll just wake up to one with a broken leg if it ever comes to that. 

Every now and then, he watches them progress. Not every night because he does have to sleep. But occasionally on some nights, like when thoughts of Thalia and his regrets or how Uncle Ferdinand’s search for Pan is coming along, he would wander the forest grounds. And sometimes he would just take a quick peek at the two brothers. 

There’s something Grover has come to learn, spying on Connor and Travis like this, after all these nights. He can’t tell who is who yet and he might never be able to tell if he’s being honest, not when they never talk, but their strength as climbers lay in different fields. 

One brother is brute forcing it, faster and more dynamic, jumping for holds and then slamming his heel or toe on a hold to stabilize himself and stop himself from wildly swinging. An energetic, fiery rocket to the summit. 

The other brother is more precise in his movements, opting to keep his hands and feet planted at all times, ascending to the top in a graceful, fluid dance. No energy wasted. No unnecessary movement. Calm and analytical in a way that reminds him of Annabeth. 

When the wall resets itself, holds melting into the wall to be replaced by different kinds that shift side to side and up to down for a new route, it’s always the dynamic brother that goes first, going for the first hold that’s within reach and then jumping for holds that’s not. Relying on his strength to progress without any plans. Just going for it without fear. The other brother sits cross-legged, watching closely, drawing nonsensical shapes in the dirt with a listless finger. 

When the first inevitably falls, the other brother goes and he usually makes it much farther, easing past the areas that the first struggles on.

Grover had originally chalked it up to the second one being a more skilled climber. But the more he watched, it’s more like they’re feeding off each other's failures and successes. 

The dynamic one on his second attempt easily surpasses where he fell last time, not quite using the same techniques as his brother but the same footholds to get past that section. 

Learning through his brother’s successes. Learning through his brother’s failures. Their reliance on each other and closeness reminds him sorely of the trio he tried to guide back to Camp Half Blood. 

Grover watches Travis and Connor high-five each other, whispering excitedly about what route they think the wall will give them the next night, as they make their way back to their cabin. He can’t help but think of Thalia again.

How he wished he hadn’t failed her, how he wished she could have lived, how he wished she could be here with Annabeth and Luke — when they go canoeing, when they go rock-climbing, when they attend classes, when they eat at the pavillion and sing at the campfire. 

Every little thing Luke and Annabeth do, every glance at Half Blood Hill, he’s reminded of Thalia and his failures.

They tell him it’s not his fault, that he did his best, that the odds were against him, that there was nothing he could do differently that would have changed the outcome, that Thalia made her own choice to sacrifice herself, that he’s not to blame. 

He had accepted their condolences with a solemn nod. What else is he to say that won’t sound like him being a self-pitying whiner? The best thing he could do to atone for his failure is to not fail the demigod he is to guide next. 

And to help make sure any demigod who attempts the climbing wall doesn't die from a broken neck.