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Collections/Challenges: Whumptober, Day 11 (+ 12)
Prompt(s): “Can you get through all the pain inside you?” | Hidden Injury | Laceration | Forced Reveal, “It’ll be for nothing.” | Withholding Medical Treatment
Character(s): Jason, Percy
Rating: Teen
Summary: Jason’s been swamped, overworked, unbelievably stressed and lonely. So he did the only thing he knew how to do, the only thing that ever helped distract him.
He wasn’t expecting Percy to find out, and he definitely wasn’t expecting him to care.
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His arm stung.
The sleeve of his hoodie chafed against his sensitive skin, uncomfortable, itchy. Every brush of fabric sent a jolt through his body, distracting and painful. The fresh cuts on his wrist were raw and angry, every touch of the cloth aggravating it that much more.
It stung. It hurt.
He didn’t care.
He was supposed to be working on the temples, his blueprints and maps spread out in front of him, but he couldn’t focus. Every time he picked up his pencil his mind went blank. Nothing he drew was right, every line he put down was wrong, not good enough.
He frowned, erasing yet another line that wasn’t “straight enough” for him.
A part of him knew he should be taking it easy. It was summer break, he was at camp with his friends, there was no war hanging over their heads. He should be having fun.
(It wasn’t his fault that his idea of fun didn’t align with everyone else’s.)
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been cooped up in his cabin, but it was long enough. His arm was sore, his back ached, and he couldn’t stop staring at his papers. He’d half started to convince himself that if he glared hard enough, he’d magically find the solution to all of his temple problems.
(It hadn’t happened yet, but he still had hope.)
He’d been in there long enough that he didn’t notice the cabin door cracking open, didn’t register the new presence in the room, didn’t realize that someone was calling his name.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and jolted, staring back with wild eyes filled with shock.
It was Percy, of course. One eyebrow raised accompanied by a half smirk on his face. His hand was still on Jason’s shoulder, solid and comforting. He found himself relaxing before he could say anything, letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was holding.
“Percy,” he said calmly, if surprised. “Hey.”
“Grace.” He said, nodding at him. “Just figured I’d pop by, you’ve been cooped up in here for hours.”
Jason hummed noncommittally, shrugging. Percy finally took his hand off his shoulder, moving to lean backwards against the desk. His arms were crossed as he glanced down at the blueprints, interest flashing in his eyes.
“Temples again?”
Jason huffed out a quiet laugh. “When is it not?”
Percy frowned at that, his eyebrows drawing together. “We were planning on watching a movie after supper, you should join us. Relax for an hour.”
Jason wanted to say yes, but he looked back down at the temples and sighed instead. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or don’t want too?” Percy challenged.
“Let’s say both.”
Percy let out a loud, dramatic sigh at that, tossing his head back to stare at the ceiling like he was cursing the gods for Jason’s stubbornness. Jason almost felt bad, but then he remembered his promise to Kymopoleia and the feeling vanished.
“You know what, I don’t care what you say. You need a break and some fresh air whether you want to admit it or not.”
Jason went to protest but Percy was already up, grabbing Jason’s wrist to haul him out the door.
His bad wrist.
He yelped, ripping his arm out of Percy’s hold in seconds. He was already cradling his arm when he realized what he’d done, his face paling to the colour of paper within seconds.
Percy just stared at him. Confused, worried. His eyes drifted from Jason’s face down to his wrist, then back up again. He pursed his lips, clearly debating whether or not he should ask or leave it alone.
“You okay?” He ventured slowly, and Jason could see the gears turning in his head, the dots starting to connect.
Maybe he could salvage this somehow?
“Yeah. Fine. Just caught me off guard.” He lied, holding eye contact with a smile. Maybe it would be fine. Maybe Percy would ignore it.
“Off guard, huh?” He said slowly. “You wouldn’t mind showing me your wrist then, would you?”
Jason’s smile faltered. “There’s no need for that. I told you—I’m fine.”
Percy looked unconvinced. “Jason, you know you can trust me—“
“I said it’s fine.” Jason snapped, standing up so fast that he sent his chair scraping across the floor. It sent a grating sound akin to nails on a chalkboard straight into his ears.
“If it’s fine then why are you acting so weird? Clearly it’s not.” Percy snapped back. He looked torn—like he couldn’t decide whether or not he should confront this or leave it be. After a second of silence he let out a sigh, hanging his head for a moment before he brought it back up.
He looked guilty. Tired.
“Show me your wrist, Jason. Please. If—…if it’s what I think it is, know that I won’t tell anyone. I just want to help.”
His brain was screaming at him to run, his body was tensed like it was ready for a fight. If he showed him—that would be it. He’d know. He’d leave.
He wasn’t sure what made him do it. Maybe it was Percy’s earnest expression, the concerned tone of voice, his eyes which seemed to hold the weight of the world. Pleading. Worried. Vulnerable in a way that didn’t make sense.
He looked away.
He wasn’t sure why he did it, but it felt like an out of body experience when he finally grabbed his sleeve. He hesitated for a second, fingers spasming on the cuff, before finally, he pulled it up.
He heard Percy’s sharp intake of breath but refused to look up, pulling the sleeve back down. It didn’t matter that he was an inch taller than Percy, in that moment he’d never felt smaller.
There was silence for a long moment. Suffocating. Overwhelming. Jason wanted to scream, shake Percy by the shoulders, beg him not to hate him, to not find him weak, to not tell everyone.
He didn’t. He stood stiffly, felt more and more detached to his body as time went on. His brain was floating in the clouds, his eyes were glued to the floor between them. He didn’t feel real.
He was just dreaming, wasn’t he? He didn’t actually show Percy. He was just asleep.
Except he wasn’t. Percy was still standing in front of him. Still silent.
Jason felt like a kid all over again. He’d never been scolded by his mother (he was far too young) but he imagined it would feel something like this. This… disappointment. Jason must’ve disappointed Percy. He must find him weak; how could he not?
Finally, after what must’ve been an eternity, Percy walked away.
He heard his footsteps retreating, the door clicking shut, felt the sudden emptiness of the room.
He sat down on his bed and put his head in his hands. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have done that. Why the fuck did he do that?
His body felt distant now. Fake. Robotic. He couldn’t feel any pain—only his shame.
He made a mistake but there was no taking it back. He couldn’t undo what he’d done—well, maybe he could if he wacked Percy hard enough on the head, but that felt a bit excessive.
His door opened a minute later and his head snapped up, staring at Percy with an amalgamation of emotions. He wasn’t sure what he looked like—scared, frenzied, completely calm. He felt like all three.
(He’d never been good at converting how he felt into the right expression, this only seemed to highlight that fact.)
Percy walked towards him without a word, sat next to Jason on the bed. That’s when he noticed the alcohol wipes, the gauze, the adhesive wraps.
Percy had gone and grabbed medical supplies.
Was he—did he want to take care of his cuts?
“Can you show me your wrist again?” Percy’s voice was asking—not demanding. Soft but knowing.
For the second time, Jason pulled up his sleeve.
“Did you clean these?” Percy asked clinically, taking his arm and bringing it closer to his lap. Jason bit his lip, let him manhandle his arm.
“I rinsed them off with some water.” He offered quietly. Even he knew it sounded pathetic. Usually he was good at this—taking care of it, dressing the wound—but today he just didn’t have the energy.
Percy snorted, grabbing the alcohol wipes and ripping one of them open. “Classic.”
Jason wrinkled his nose. Why was he being so… calm about this? He was expecting anger, frustration, betrayal, disappointment—anything but this.. acceptance.
He looked down at his wrist, the five, near perfect lines. All of them shiny and deep, not yet crusted over with blood. The surrounding skin was red, raised and irritated. The laceration’s were clearly fresh, even to the untrained eye.
He thought back to this morning, the dissociative attack, not feeling real. His decision not to clean it up because he didn’t have the energy. Throwing on a clean black hoodie—because he would never, ever wear something dirty over fresh wounds—just in case he kept bleeding.
He almost didn’t want Percy to take care of them. Part of him wanted the pain. Wanted the proof of his failure.
He didn’t want gentle touches and soft bandages. He wanted hot flashes and burning under the shower, chafing under his hoodie, throbbing agony whenever it touched something. He wanted the pain.
“This might sting.” Percy warned, looking over at him with a knowing look.
“That’s fine.” Jason replied. Percy shrugged, bringing down one of the wipes onto his skin. Jason grimaced but bit his cheek, doing his best to move past the tingling fire under his skin.
This was his own fault.
He watched Percy’s movements like a hawk, every swipe, every shift. Percy took his time, making sure every cut was thoroughly disinfected. Fuck, he used three different wipes. Jason never used more than one.
He felt something indescribable and heavy settling in his chest. Maybe it was guilt, but it felt too bittersweet for that. It couldn’t have been gratitude either, his chest was too tight.
Percy finished dressing the wounds in silence, placed the gauze on his wrist, had Jason hold it down while he started wrapping the adhesive bandage around his arm. Jason wondered where he’d learned to do that. He didn’t spend enough time in the infirmary to pick it up, and Jason doubted they had emergency first aid classes in Tartarus.
Percy finished the last lap of the bandage, pressed it down to secure the hold and finally let Jason have his arm back. He immediately pulled down his sleeve, hands falling into his lap.
Percy didn’t say anything, so after a moment Jason did.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?”
Percy smiled softly, almost nostalgic. “My mom.” He said quietly. “Whenever I got hurt, she’d bandage it just like this. Usually she’d keep some blue candy for bribery, but I figured—hoped—you wouldn’t need that part.”
Jason hummed. “That’s.. sweet. Definitely better than what I thought.”
“You thought I cut myself too?”
Jason’s shoulders slumped at Percy’s tone, incredulous but kind. He shrugged.
“Nah. Thought about it, had a knife in my hand a few times, but I couldn’t go through with it.” He frowned, shivering at the memory. “Something about it just felt… wrong. I dunno. I just couldn’t hurt myself.”
Jason let his words sink in, tried not to take offence. Just because Percy couldn’t do it didn’t mean he was angry at Jason for doing it, despite his brain trying desperately to convince him otherwise.
“Why’d you do it?”
Jason blinked, staring back at Percy. He wasn’t angry, judgmental—nothing. His eyes were shining with genuine curiosity and a touch of concern.
“I don’t know.” He responded quietly. “I…the first time I did it I was a lot younger. Everyone expected me to be perfect and have my shit together and… I guess hated that. I wasn’t allowed to be anything but Jupiter’s golden child, the prodigy, the ‘youngest member of the legion.’”
Percy listened, kept his eyes glued onto Jason’s face with rapt attention.
“I was expected to lead grown teenagers in battle when I was 12.” Jason chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. It was pained. “I became praetor at 15. They expected so much of me, even Reyna, but at the same time they’d treat me like a child when it was convenient for them.”
“Sounds horrible.”
Jason snorted at the bluntness of it. He looked over with a raised eyebrow, mouth twitching into a barely there smile. Percy was smiling too, it was subtle and soft, but he was smiling. He found himself smiling wider. “It was.”
“That still why you do it?” Percy asked, cocking his head to the side. Jason didn’t know how to feel. Instead of being disgusted or angry, Percy was taking care of him. Trying to understand why he did it instead of focusing on what he did. It was—oddly nice.
“I don’t think so.” He said softly. “I think now it’s—I don’t know. Habit? A stress reliever?”
Percy gave him a look akin to one a mother might have while scolding her child, Jason held back a grimace. “I don’t know dude. Sometimes things don’t feel real or my emotions get too high and this helps bring me back to reality. It makes me feel real.”
“And that’s why you did it today?” Percy’s voice was collected, asking, not accusing. Jason wasn’t sure why he expected the son of Poseidon to change his tune every time he opened his mouth, but still, every time he was pleasantly surprised.
“Kind of. I—…” he paused, wondering if he should really be talking about this. I mean, they already were, but his reasons for today weren’t exactly… the best.
Percy only watched him silently, open and willing to listen. If Percy was willing to hear him out, if Percy asked, then he wasn’t a bad person for answering honestly... right?
“I’ve felt… isolated I guess. I’ve been swamped with the temples and I can’t get my brain to work properly, being at camp half-blood feels more like a chore, school sucks, I literally died and came back to life, I keep dissociating without meaning too and it’s honestly starting to scare me—I’m sick of it and I feel so stressed that most of the time I feel actually sick.” The floodgates had slammed open and Jason was surprised at how much kept coming out, like a tsunami he couldn’t stop. “I needed a distraction that wouldn’t make any of that other shit worse. Something real, something that wouldn’t go away the second I wasn’t paying attention or moved. Something permanent.” He paused. “Permanent enough, anyway.”
Percy looked a bit horrified but still invested, nodding at him to keep going. Even though everything in his body was telling him to shut up, Jason did. “The scars are nice reminders too. That I survived. That I’m still here. Especially the new ones; it makes my body feel lived in. Like these things actually happened to me and I have proof, I’m not just—I’m not fake. I’m real. But at the same time, a part of me just wants to because I can.”
His breath hitched, his voice going quiet. “Sometimes I worry that I’ll stop having a reason, you know? That I’ll be doing it just for the sake of doing it, that it’ll all be for nothing. And that scares me. What if I never stop? What if it’s like alcoholism or smoking, an addiction I can’t quit? What if I can’t get through this pain inside me and snap? What if I go too far?”
Percy’s eyes softened. Jason looked away.
“The guilt sucks too. I don’t want to tell anyone because what if they leave? What if they decide I’m too damaged or fucked up to be around? What if they walk out that door but instead of coming back with gauze, they come back with everyone else I know to stage an intervention? I’m already an outsider enough, I don’t think I could handle everyone finding out and ditching me for being like this.”
He felt an arm come up around his shoulder and he paused, blinking. He hadn’t realized before but now that he was forced to stop, he felt the sharp pain radiating up his arm from where he was squeezing his wrist. He pulled his lips into a tight line, dropping his head.
Percy gave him a moment before squeezing his shoulder, letting go once Jason stopped holding on so tight.
“You don’t have to worry about me leaving.” He said softly. “Or judging you. I know what it’s like to be the odd man out and I would never, ever, wish it upon anyone. Well—unless they deserved it, but you definitely don’t deserve it.”
Jason smiled softly at that, but didn’t say anything.
“As for New Rome…I’m sorry, but they failed you. You shouldn’t have had such high expectations put on you as a kid. You shouldn’t’ve been leading grown ass teenagers into battle at 12, and you sure as hell shouldn’t have gone on your first quest at 4.”
Jason’s chest bloomed with warmth. He hadn’t mentioned that last point, but the fact that Percy remembered made him feel cared for in a way most people couldn’t.
“I don’t think it’s healthy, what you’re doing, but I know you could be doing worse. Like—so much worse.” Jason thought about all the kids who turned to drugs or sex instead and couldn’t help but agree. “But since I know now, next time you get the urge, call me. I’d say I’m permanent and annoying enough to be an alright stand in, wouldn’t you?”
Jason gave him a bittersweet grin. “Oh yeah. You’re especially annoying, it’s hard not to focus on you.”
Percy laughed, holding a hand up in mock offence. “Ouch.”
“You said it first.” Jason shrugged, already feeling lighter than he had all day.
Percy rolled his eyes. “Touché. But my point still stands.”
“I’ll call you.” Jason promised. “But if you don’t pick up, well—“
Percy’s mouth dropped open, his eyes widening in horror. Jason cackled at the expression on his face, trying his best to calm down and failing miserably. Percy huffed and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.
“I guess that would be fair. I don’t like it, and part of me wants to shake some sense into you because I hate seeing you hurt yourself—but I trust you. If that’s what you need to do.. then you do that.”
Jason smiled. Even if he knew Percy was against what he was doing, he was being supportive—trying to help rather than put an end to the whole affair with no consideration as to why he’s been doing it in the first place. Plus, it was nice to have someone who knew—someone he could talk to who wouldn’t judge him or ostracize him. Keeping it a secret had been weighing on his conscience more than he thought it ever would, but now that he could share this burden? It was freeing.
Percy’d done more more for him than most people would ever consider doing, and he appreciated every second of it.
“Thanks Percy.” He said, eyes crinkling with genuine mirth. “For the bandage, the talk… everything.”
Percy shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it man, I’m just being a good friend.”
“Still,” Jason said. “It’s more than most people would do.”
Percy pursed his lips, nodding his head. “True. I can’t actually say otherwise.”
“Exactly.” He said, looking at him like it was common knowledge. He paused for a second, hesitating, mouth open, before he decided to ask one last question.
“So, what movie are we watching later?”