Work Text:
“Do you know what you’re being for Halloween yet, Jackson?” Ethan, one of the guys Percy had met his first year in New Rome, asked. Ethan was also an education major, but he had been raised in New Rome. He was a distant legacy of some minor Roman god that Percy had never heard of before, but had tried to be polite and act like he recognized the name.
“Uh, nah, man. I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest.” Percy replied. The two men were walking to a study group from their Experiencing Education Inequality class (which often struck a little too close to home for Percy), heading toward one of the libraries on campus.
“Seriously? Halloween is in like two days, bro.” Ethan opened the door for Percy as they headed into the library for their study group.
Ethan and Percy had a few courses together. Ethan really liked hearing Percy’s opinion on topics, and he started discussions centered around the political and classist themes of the American school system near-daily.
It took a little getting used to for Percy. Nobody had ever wanted to hear his opinion on intellectual topics before, much less actually valued said opinion. Everyone typically just looked at him to lead wars or fight monsters or maybe review a battle strategy if Annabeth (or other members of the Athena cabin) were unavailable. But Ethan blatantly tried to engage Percy in full conversations on complex, realistic topics—not just polite small talk or war efforts—and he seemed to do it because he genuinely wanted to talk to Percy. Percy thought he liked the change. It was fun.
He hadn’t had a lot of friends growing up. Or ever, in all honesty. He met people easily, he had lots and lots of acquaintances, but he never had any true friends that weren’t just products of proximity or necessity. Still, Percy was good at analyzing people. It was one of the only things that Percy thought he was semi-decent at. He watched, listened, and noticed everything and everyone in a new environment. It was how he survived.
He had learned quickly that the best way to get through a new school was to find your people as soon as possible. He recognized that if he had somebody around him at all times, he was less likely to be picked on. It didn’t have to be the popular, cool kids or the big, bad bullies. Actually, Percy preferred it if it wasn’t. Those kids always made Percy feel even more on edge than he usually was. Plus, they usually would never be caught dead acknowledging a new kid like Percy. A scrawny, quiet kid who was always covered in bruises and obviously had something…different about him would be the exact opposite of what those kids would like and welcome.
So, Percy would gravitate toward the ones that would be the safest options for him. The not-weird-but-not-popular kids. They wouldn’t be a point of focus for bullies, but they also weren’t constantly being watched by everyone else. They were typically a little more diverse in their tendencies and backgrounds, so it was easier for Percy to try and fit in with them. They weren’t the smart kids who read a lot, but they weren’t complete ipad kids or anything. They were in the middle. They were the perfect place for a new kid to disappear into.
After he identified that group, Percy would subtly observe their behaviors and personalities. He noticed the way they talked, what they read, and how they played at recess. He would notice those little things and then work to make himself into the exact type of person that the group would welcome most. If that meant he acted a little more talkative than he typically preferred, so be it. Maybe it meant that he forced himself to read books (or pretend to read books) in order to have common things to talk about. Whatever it was, Percy did it.
Percy’s objective was never to make friends. It was to blend in. Sure, he would’ve loved to have somebody in his corner, but he also knew that that wasn’t likely. Nobody would actually like him. How could they? He didn’t even like himself.
As he got older, his situation shifted.
Rather than being at new schools, it was camp. At camp, he couldn’t just blend in. He did it at first, and he did it well. Sure, the minotaur didn’t set a great precedent for him but everyone quickly moved past that. He perfectly fit into the routine with the Hermes cabin. He was average with them. He was invisible to all except a select few who didn’t mind sacrificing their social life by fraternizing with the weird new kid.
Until he got claimed. Then he was quarantined like he had the plague. That was what threw off his typical way of survival. He couldn’t find any group that he could fit in with. He was just too—
muchtoostupidtoopowerfultoopoortoo
—different.
Eventually, he got some people. He had Grover, and Annabeth. Clarisse and him got on okay terms after his quest through the Sea of Monsters. Him and Charles Beckendorf got close pretty quickly, which got him in touch with Silena Beauregard, too. He knew a couple kids from the Apollo cabin, and other kids in the Aphrodite cabin, who didn’t completely hate him. He didn’t have any best friends or anything. Or rather, nobody would consider him a best friend. Percy still wasn’t sure if they had even considered him a friend at all.
He was still analyzing everyone around him—at that point it was a habit more than anything—and adapting himself to best suit the environment. That helped people get used to him quicker, even if they didn’t like him. They at least stopped staring at him like he was a rare monkey in a zoo.
Then the first war picked up, and everything was thrown for a loop. He lost half the people he was partly close with, and all the people he was actually close with (minus Annabeth and Grover.)
After the war, people acted normal but Percy didn’t feel it. He tried to act like he did, but he suspected he failed miserably. It wouldn’t be the first time. He felt…weird all the time. He felt—
numbsadangrytirednonottiredexhaustedirritablebittersosotired
—different.
The second war just increased all of his feelings tenfold. He felt more disconnected from everyone in his life than he ever had before, even after he got his memories back and reunited with the camp.
He did meet Hazel and Frank, though. He felt like they actually liked him. At least, they met him during a time where he was probably being the truest version of himself, since he didn’t have any memories to promote him acting otherwise.
But throughout the entire war, and especially afterward, he was just…sad. Or numb. He was happy sometimes, but then the happiness was also accompanied with bitterness, or guilt, or maybe a melancholy resignation. He knew the joy wouldn’t last long, and part of him wished it wouldn’t.
He wanted to be happy, he did, really! And he tried! He tried so hard, all the time! He tried to be more positive, he put a smile on his face for his family and friends, and he tried hard in school. But, he still felt bad, all the time—and he felt like he deserved the bad. It was a reminder. It was a necessity.
Nobody seemed to notice, no matter how much Percy wished they did. Though, if they asked, he would have lied.
He kept going. He went through the motions. He was doing good in school, the best he had ever been at school, actually, and he was making friends. Actual, real friends, for the first time in his life. Organically and properly, he was meeting people and truly getting to know them, and those people actually seemed to like him. Him! It was unheard of.
But it still wasn’t enough. He just couldn’t be satisfied, apparently. Something was always wrong. He still felt bad. Percy didn’t get it. He was a fucking war veteran, for gods’ sake. He’s gone against literal Misery and won. He almost killed her. He’s made the god of fear afraid. He’s faced the living embodiment of Greek hell and survived. He should be able to get his own emotions together. He needed to get it together.
But he could barely make it through the day. How was he supposed to do this his entire life?
He still needed to grab some Halloween candy before he could head home for the night, even though he was thoroughly exhausted and the only thing he wanted to do was sleep. Still, he had to pick up some candy before he could go to bed.
He wasn’t sure what the trick-or-treating game was like in New Rome, but his apartment building had more than a few families with younger kids. If he didn’t get rid of all the candy, he could just give it to the kid he babysat, Benny.
The door to the grocery store dinged as it slid open, and Percy winced as the sole cashier’s eyes immediately snapped to him. It was only eleven on a Monday night, but the store was nearly empty.
New Rome didn’t have any big grocery stores, rather lots of small markets scattered around, all of which carried Trader Joe’s type food. Percy wasn’t complaining necessarily, but he did miss those sugar cookies from Target.
The cashier barely looked at him while he was checking out. That was another thing about New Rome—it didn’t have any self checkouts. Unavoidable social interaction was required every time you needed to buy anything. That probably annoyed Percy more than the lack of severely-processed, borderline-play-doh-tasting sugar cookies.
Percy considered trying to say something, but didn’t. He doubted the cashier wanted to make conversation any more than he did (even if they did, he didn’t have anything to say.)
“18.75,” the cashier said, startling Percy out of his overthinking complaining.
“Huh?”
“18.75!” The cashier’s tone was harsher this time, effectively making Percy feel like a complete and total idiot.
Percy didn’t respond as he fished out his wallet, though in his mind he considered what magic this candy must have in it to cost almost twenty bucks.
The leaves crunched under Percy’s feet as he walked down the street to his apartment building, and the streetlamps flickered above him. A strong shot of wind cut through his sweatshirt like butter, causing him to shiver despite the temperature still being well above sixty degrees.
His apartment was warmer, though the chill didn’t leave his body. As he fished out his key, his neighbor down the hall opened their door.
“Hey, Mr. Gutierrez. ¡Feliz Día de los Muertos!” Percy kept his voice soft as he called out. He babysat for the Gutierrezes a few times a week; they had a boy named Ben who was about ten. They were much more friendly than any of Percy’s neighbors growing up.
“Hey, Jackson. Thanks. Have a good night, kid,” Mr. Gutierrez replied, heading down the stairs. He was dressed in his scrubs, so Percy assumed that he was going to work.
Percy fiddled with the key a few times before it worked, mentally reminding himself that he needed to have it looked at.
Percy’s apartment was completely bare, making him look like a complete and total Halloween Scrooge. He was pretty sure he had some Halloween decorations somewhere that he picked up sometime in the past few years.
He flicked on the lights, winced as the light immediately triggered a migraine, flicked the lights off, and headed toward his closet.
His closet severely stressed him out, so he tried to open it as little as possible. When he first moved into his apartment, he never fully unpacked but continued to put stuff in the closet. Over time, it just got so cluttered that he could barely stand to look at it, much less go through it.
The only things hung up were jackets, a tie, and a few bags. All of his other clothes he typically folded up. Boxes stacked up on the floor stretching almost to Percy’s hip, blankets were thrown into the corner, there was a singular cowboy boot on the top shelf. Percy couldn’t remember any time in his life when he wore cowboy boots.
The Halloween decorations would probably be in one of the boxes, so Percy grabbed the top one and read the label. It took him a minute as his headache was making his dyslexia worse, and the dyslexia only aided his steadily worsening headache.
Eventually, he made out that it was just dvds and miscellaneous trinkets, and he moved on to the next box. Before he could completely read the label, his eye was caught by another box.
The box was thrown into the corner, half buried by an old blanket. It was small, almost like a shoebox, and a faded gray-ish brown. Percy couldn’t remember for the life of him where it could be from.
He grabbed it, and moved to the couch as he struggled to read the scratchy handwriting. For Percy.
Percy knew that handwriting. He had seen it a dozen times on notes in the forge, or on sign-up sheets for Capture the Flag.
A vivid memory arose in the depths of Percy’s mind. After the war with Gaea, Jake Mason from the Hephaestus cabin had stopped by the Poseidon cabin.
Apparently, while cleaning out Charles Beckendorf’s bunk for Leo to use, they had found a box nobody had noticed before. It had Percy’s name on it. They hadn’t opened it.
Percy didn’t really believe the last part, he was sure that everyone at camp was much too nosy not to at least take a peek at it, but he accepted it anyhow.
He had attempted to go through it, but had started sobbing before he could even properly process the contents.
Slowly opening the lid to the box, Percy mentally tried to prepare himself. What for, he wasn’t completely sure.
The first thing that caught his attention was a 90s style camcorder, like the kind you would see in a Hallmark movie about a dead mom who had a secret illness and her kid found a box full of stuff from when she was still alive, and they had a dramatic breakdown while watching the old videos.
Percy figured that analogy was most likely what would happen if he looked at anything that was on the camera. He would probably start crying on the spot, then fall asleep on his couch. His back would hurt in the morning if he slept on the couch. He should probably wait until he was more mentally sound before he chose to subject himself to big amounts of grief. That would be the smart decision.
Percy switched the camera to playback mode before connecting it to his tv. The first video started playing.
“Bro, what are you doing?” A younger Percy half-yelled, half-laughed as Silena Beauregard lightly pushed him toward the lake.
“Come on! I’ll jump with you!” She grabbed his hand before looking toward the camera, or rather, the boy holding the camera. “Charlie, you should jump too!”
“Yeah! It’s team bonding!” Percy had agreed.
“You’re gonna get your clothes wet. And your hair.” Beckendorf’s voice sounded from behind the camera, his smile audible.
“Who cares?” Silena said, now walking toward the camera. The smile on her face radiated enough happiness to melt Antarctica. “Come on. You can put your precious camera to the side for a second.”
“Yeah! Ditch the camera and join us on the dark side!” Percy called, oblivious to the slight twitch Silena’s smile had at the words.
“Okay, okay!”
Percy sat there. He didn’t cry, surprisingly. He just…sat. Stared. He replayed the video. Then again. Then again.
He didn’t notice how tears slowly started to fall down his cheeks as he numbly pressed the replay button over and over.
He remembered that video, a couple days before the failed Princess Andromeda mission. Silena had burst into his cabin after Percy had missed breakfast, and lunch, in favor of laying in bed. He hadn’t been able to find the energy to do anything. He had cried himself into dehydration, and he was officially done with everything.
Silena pushed him outside to where Beckendorf was waiting, before they both urged him toward a small pond in the woods nearby the Poseidon cabin. He and Beckendorf had frequented that pond a lot, particularly in the months leading up to the war, when Percy’s mental health had hit an all-time low.
That was the last time they had visited the pond before Beckendorf died. Percy never had the guts to go to it alone afterwards.
Gods, what Percy wouldn’t do to go back to that afternoon. To get the chance to even talk to Beckendorf, or Silena, again would probably be enough to lift his spirits forever. Well, for at least a couple days. Or maybe a few hours. Percy wasn’t going to let himself delve too deep into wishful thinking.
Finally, not knowing how much time had passed, Percy distantly wiped his eyes and turned off the tv. Stumbling toward his room, he, again, absentmindedly flicked on the light, winced when it caused his headache to spike, and flipped the switch off.
He walked to his shower and turned on the water, sitting on the floor. He didn’t bother to take off his clothes, only focusing on how the water flooded over him. It overwhelmed his senses. He hated how much it calmed him. He hated that his father’s domain gave him so much comfort.
Percy wasn’t sure how he felt. He was sad, angry, guilty, and a little bit bitter. All of the emotions churned in his stomach and stabbed into his heart, ultimately combining into something best described as exhaustion. He just wanted to sleep, and never wake up. Not even really in a death way. He wasn’t interested in death. He wasn’t interested in anything. He just didn’t want to exist at all. He often felt like a burden to everyone around him, but he thought that, perhaps, his existence burdened him most of all.
That thought triggered another flood of guilt. That was an idiotic statement. Ironic, too, considering that it was brought on by a video of two people that died because of his existence. How selfish could he be? Everyone said he was like his father, but he hadn’t thought that he had inherited Poseidon’s narcissism along with his eyes.
He felt himself teetering on the edge of a bottomless abyss, one that felt familiar and slightly comforting, even if it was accompanied by unending cycles of pain and depression. He always ended up here.
Percy wasn’t sure if this was even depression, though. He didn’t want to kill himself. He wasn’t sad. He was just…done.
Halloween used to be his favorite holiday. He loved getting candy and dressing up. He liked that, for once, nobody questioned why a little kid was running around by himself.
Now, it felt like a chore. He already put on a mask every day for the people in his life. He dressed up as a happy, carefree guy who just went with the flow and moved on from everything that might make any other person feel a little down. He charaded as a guy that could easily go through hell and come out on the other side, not only having retained his life, but also his positive attitude.
How could anybody expect him to think of another costume to wear while still keeping every other part of himself together?
He turned off the water after only five minutes, never having gotten out of the habit of worrying about water bills. It took him another five minutes to lug himself out of his bathroom and onto his bed, willing himself dry with a spare thought.
Quickly, he fell into a fitful sleep that would most likely leave him feeling even less rested than he had before.
That night, he had a dream about an old motorcycle he used to have. Beckendorf had made it for him for his fifteenth birthday. It had successfully brought up his mood for a good week, making that time the happiest he had been in over a year.
Percy grabbed his phone, immediately planning on texting Beckendorf and asking the logistics of getting a new one. He wouldn’t even need to forge his mom’s signature to get a license this time.
It took him almost a full minute to remember. Beckendorf wasn’t going to respond. Percy didn’t even have Beckendorf’s number. He hadn’t had a phone. He would never get a phone. He wouldn’t get the chance. Beckendorf was dead.
Percy remembered something he heard a while ago, a documentary he had seen, on people who had lost a limb and would sometimes wake up and forget. They would attempt to get out of bed by stepping on a leg that was no longer there, or they would reach for a glass of water with a hand that would never be able to grasp it. Their brain took a second to process the loss, even if the trauma had happened years ago.
Percy thought that was perhaps the cruelest part of grief.
The forgetting was terrible. His brain had forgotten the exact sound of Beckendorf’s laugh, or the complete map of Silena’s freckles. He had lost the little things.
But remembering? Oh, the remembering. Remembering the fact that he would never again have the chance to hear the little intonations of a voice, or watch the tiny smile lines crinkle under eyes. Remembering that he wouldn’t be able to go and bother Beckendorf in the forge for no reason, or ask Silena if he could braid her hair. Remembering that the forgetting was irreversible and degenerative. He would keep forgetting, and he would have to keep remembering. Over and over again. A constant, cruel cycle.
His grief wouldn’t get better, it would just get different. Percy was tired of different. He had gotten more than his needed dose of different. He thought he had been overwhelmed by different years ago.
The headache came back, this time accompanied with a dash of cough and just a twinge of nausea.
Hazel and Frank had roped him into going and picking out some pumpkins with them. Percy hated himself for dreading it. He wanted to want to go. He wanted to have an interest in hanging out with them. But he was so tired.
“What’s your favorite type of pumpkin?” Hazel asked as they walked toward the small patch that had been set up by a few different markets in town. There were a few small farms in New Rome, on the outskirts of the city but still a good ways away from the military camps and settlements. They gave a constant source of fresh crops to the markets.
“What do you mean?” Percy asked, forcing a smile even as his back twinged from the walk. He felt like an old man. What kind of 20-year-old struggled to walk without pain? He was pathetic.
“Do you like big pumpkins? Round pumpkins?”
“Red pumpkins, blue pumpkins?”
“I like pumpkins that have those little bumps on them.” Frank said, grabbing a couple baskets for their trio.
“Those ones freak me out. They feel like they’re covered in pimples or something. It’s gross.” Hazel said, leading the way down the rows of pumpkins.
The patch was pretty picked over, it being the day before Halloween meant that the trio were probably some of the last to get pumpkins.
“Yeah, I’m not sure what my favorite kind of pumpkin is but not those ones.” Percy leaned down and flipped over a pumpkin, checking for marks. He had no clue what marks he was supposed to be looking for but that’s what people in movies did, so Percy figured he could at least pretend to know what he was doing.
“My favorite pumpkins are the small round ones. They’re cute.” Hazel said, grabbing a pumpkin that fit her aforementioned description.
“That’s valid.” Percy stood up and looked down the row at the other pumpkins.
Annabeth had mentioned that she liked roasted pumpkin seeds, that homemade ones tasted the best, but she hadn’t made them in a little bit. Percy wondered if she would want to roast some with him tonight.
They hadn’t hung out in a hot second. Annabeth’s schedule had been fully set up with schoolwork and study groups and classes and work and more schoolwork. Percy had offhandedly mentioned getting together with her soon, but didn’t want to distract her. She seemed partial to the idea, but she hadn’t offered a time or place or anything. Percy got the vibe that she was too busy.
He hadn’t tried to mention it again. He didn’t want to pressure her or make her feel like she needed to spend all her time with him. She had a life outside of their relationship. Percy was sure he was being needy.
“You can’t even eat a bag of Takis without your eyes watering, Frank. It’s pretty adorable.” Hazel said, her voice bringing Percy back to the present.
Frank let out an offended squawk, but his smile made it obvious he wasn’t actually hurt. “Okay, well not all of us can eat straight-up chili powder without feeling a little affected. I will not apologize for that.”
“Hey, at least I’m not Percy completely drowning all of my food in hot sauce any chance I get.” Hazel smiled at him, the true mirth in the look brought a genuine smile to Percy’s face.
“It tastes good!” He defended, raising his hands up from where they were reaching to check another pumpkin.
“I don’t get how you can taste anything at all with that much spice.” Frank stated, continuing to walk down the row.
“Hey, we’re normal. It’s not our fault that you have the tastebuds of a white lady.” Hazel deadpanned.
“Woah!” Frank turned back around with a smile. “I’m normal. You guys are the weird ones. Especially Mr. ‘eats-all-his-fruit-with-enough-Tajin-to-kill-a-baby-elephant’ over here.”
“Okay, first of all, Tajin is barely spicy. Second of all, that last name is way too long to be practical. I’m Greek, not German. And third of all, I can’t help that my tastebuds are just too amazing to be satisfied with the blandness that you Romans choose to call fruit. I wanna be okay with that, my mouth just won’t let me.” Percy said sarcastically, picking up a large pumpkin that looked decent. It wasn’t too squishy and it wasn’t covered in warts, at least. He put it in the basket.
Hazel giggled. “Woah, not us Romans catching strays!”
“You’re all the enemy.” Percy laughed, pointing a finger at the two jokingly.
“Yo, Jackson!” A voice sounded from behind them.
Percy whirled around to where Ethan was standing a few feet away. He was there with a couple other guys who Percy didn’t recognize.
“Hey, Ethan!” Percy called, blocking the sun and smiling at the other man.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here. You didn’t hit me as a big Halloween guy.” Ethan walked toward Percy’s group, his friends staying back a little bit. They looked to be wrapped up in a heated debate over a baby pumpkin.
“I’m not that big into Halloween, admittedly. Pumpkins, however, happen to be my jam.” Percy solemnly said, holding up a mini pumpkin as evidence.
“Oh, yes, I can see that.” Ethan laughed. “I was actually planning on talking to you, man. I’m going to karaoke at a club downtown tonight. You wanna come?”
“Uh, I really appreciate the invite, man, but I don’t think so.” Percy rubbed his neck awkwardly. Not only was he thoroughly exhausted already, but he was going to ask Annabeth if she wanted to roast pumpkin seeds.
“Aw, come on, J. Why not?”
“I’m not a big singer,” Percy responded to Ethan’s question.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Ethan was smiling again, looking at Percy with the same familiar glint in his eye that he usually got when he talked to Percy.
“‘Cause singing killed my grandma.” Percy explained, starting to smile too.
“What?”
“Never seen Trolls?”
“When have you seen Trolls?”
“The kid I babysit likes it. Branch is my spirit animal, bro.” Percy explained. Benny had gone through a Trolls phase a few months back. Percy had been subjected to watching it a good ten times.
“Okay, well you should still come to karaoke. You don’t have to sing.” Ethan insisted. He looked like he really hoped Percy would come.
Percy wanted to say yes, but he also didn’t. He knew it was wishful thinking—he wasn’t sure if Annabeth would even want to hang out—but he was really looking forward to seeing her. He hoped she might at least want to come over for a little bit, even if she thought the pumpkin seeds thing was stupid.
“I appreciate the invite man, really, I do, but I kinda have plans with my girlfriend.” Percy half-lied.
“Oh, right. Your girlfriend.” Ethan’s voice seemed a little off, and his face fell slightly. “Of course, man! Have fun!”
“Thanks!” They stood in awkward silence for a second. Guilt started creeping up Percy’s throat. “Hey, why don’t we grab coffee tomorrow?”
“Sure, man!” Ethan perked up again. Percy was glad. He didn’t like disappointing people, especially not one of the first actual friends he’s ever made.
Ethan’s friends called his name from a few rows over, causing them both to startle a bit.
“I’ll text you about Saturday.” Percy said, starting to walk slowly backwards.
“Yeah, bro, I’ll text you!” Ethan smiled before starting toward his friends.
“Who was that?” Hazel asked as he caught up to where Frank and her had walked a bit ahead.
“A friend. Ethan. I met him last year. We have the same major so we’re in a lot of the same courses,” Percy explained.
“He looks nice.” Hazel’s voice sounded a bit like she was implying something, but was a little hesitant to bring it up.
“Nice, how?” Percy kept his tone light, but still tried to make it obvious that he knew she was implying something.
“Don’t freak out, but Ethan kinda seems like he likes you. A lot.” Frank stated, looking at Percy.
“Well, I would hope so. We’ve been friends for over a year.” Percy knew that wasn’t exactly what he meant, but he didn’t want to consider otherwise.
“Perce,” Frank started. “He very obviously has a crush on you. He even asked you out just now.”
“What? He did not.”
“Karaoke?”
“That’s just two friends hanging out. Plus, I’m sure his friends would be coming.” Even Percy could hear how desperate his explanation sounded.
“And coffee tomorrow?” Frank continued.
“We have coffee together all the time!” Percy argued.
“Very true,” Frank relented.
“Just saying, Ethan was kinda looking at you like you hung the moon,” Hazel chimed in.
“Okay, that is an absolute lie.”
“No, I saw that, too,” Frank said.
“It’s two against one, Perce.” Hazel smiled at him gently.
“Okay, fine. Noted, and respectfully ignored.” Percy tried to think of a way to change the subject. He was in a relationship. Ethan couldn’t like him. Ethan was one of the first friends Percy had ever made organically. Percy was capable of making friends. Right?
“Hey, we didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sure you’re right. You guys are just friends,” Hazel put a hand on his arm.
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m dating Annabeth, so it’s not like it would go anywhere,” Percy dismissed.
“Yeah. Of course,” Frank replied. Percy chose to ignore how placating the agreement sounded.
“So, I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight. Sorry, I know it’s kinda late notice.”
“It’s okay,” Annabeth said.
“I was thinking we could roast pumpkin seeds. You said you liked those, right?” Percy fiddled with the hem of his sweatshirt as he sat on the couch in his apartment. “To be honest, I’ve never had them.”
“You’ve never had roasted pumpkin seeds?! Actually?” Annabeth’s voice was incredulous.
“No, I haven’t…” Percy admitted, smiling.
“That’s crazy.”
“Yeah, I guess. So? Do you wanna come over?” Percy’s index finger dug into the cuticle of his thumb.
“Uh, that sounds nice...” Annabeth sounded hesitant. Percy’s index finger increased the pressure on his cuticle.
“Great!”
“But, I have a lot of work to do. My math credit is slowly kicking my ass.”
“Oh.” Blood popped up on the cuticle of Percy’s thumb. He didn’t notice. “Yeah. Yeah, of course!”
“I’m sorry. How about we do something tomorrow night? It’s Halloween! We can go out! Hit the clubs! It’ll be fun.”
Percy couldn’t think of anything less fun. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I’ll text you more about it later. I gotta get back to my homework.” Annabeth sounded a little awkward. Percy wondered if he said something. He should’ve given Annabeth more of a heads-up. Of course she wasn’t free tonight. Why did he even bring it up?
“Yeah, of course! Good luck. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Percy put down his phone and stared out the window. Disappointment sunk into his stomach, and he was suddenly overcome with the need to cry. He bit his lip. What was wrong with him?
He could spend a night alone. He didn’t constantly need somebody to be around him. And he knew that Annabeth was stressed with her work load. He didn’t know why he had been trying to distract her in the first place.
He grabbed a bottle of aspirin off his coffee table, taking a couple in hopes it would curb his headache, despite the fact he had taken a couple less than two hours ago and it had done nothing.
As he stood up, his foot kicked the box from Beckendorf. He had never put it back after last night. He kicked it under the coffee table lightly, choosing to deal with it later.
Percy went through the motions of getting ready for bed, not really present for anything he was doing.
He went to sleep feeling the same way he had felt the entire day, and he had no expectations of feeling any different the next morning.
“How was last night?” Percy asked as he sat down across from Ethan.
“Good. Although, I don’t remember the majority of it.” Ethan smiled and pushed a coffee toward Percy. “I got here early and figured I’d order for both of us. Almond milk with four shots of espresso, right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Thanks, man.” Percy took the coffee and tried to conceal his surprise. “How much do I owe you?”
“Bro, you don’t have to pay me back. It’s just coffee.” Ethan laughed lightly. “How was your night?”
“It was good! Pretty chill,” Percy lied. He wasn’t about to admit that he blew Ethan off only to spend the night alone.
“Good, man! You know what you’re being for Halloween, yet?”
“No clue.”
“Seriously, bro? It’s Halloween! What are you gonna do tonight?” Ethan almost choked on his drink.
“Honestly, I was just going to stay home and watch a few movies. Bake some cookies. Maybe order some takeout.” Percy rubbed his neck, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly.
Ethan stared at him for a second. “Of course. That’s not crazy. What?”
“I like staying in.” Percy shrugged.
“And that’s fine! I love that, y’know! Staying in is great.” Ethan raised his hands up like he was being arrested. “But, if you didn’t want to spend the night alone, you could always, I don’t know, hit me up? We can watch some movies. Order a pizza. Just a thought.”
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Percy remembered what Frank and Hazel said the day before. “I’ve been kinda nauseous lately, so I’m not sure how I’ll feel but I’ll, uh, text you, okay?”
“Yeah, of course! Are you feeling okay?” Ethan’s brown eyes widened in concern. “I hate feeling nauseous. Definitely top ten worst feelings.”
Percy laughed. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.” Ethan took a sip of his drink.
“Hey, what do you think of history curriculums? ‘Cause why are we only supposed to be teaching kids about more local history? Y’know what I mean?” Percy asked, trying to fill the silence.
“Yeah! Like the way that schools in the South focus more on slavery than schools in the West? Or schools in the West learning a lot about Native American history but barely anything about the Civil War?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah! I mean, all of that is obviously important, and I’m not saying that we should teach less of certain topics—”
“But we could totally spread out and diversify the content more!”
“Exactly, bro! Thank you!”
“No, yeah, ‘cause it’s insane that kids in some states could learn barely anything about World War II but have to learn the same five facts about tuberculosis over and over again.”
“Right?! How are we supposed to raise empathetic and understanding human beings if we’re not allowed to expose them to other cultures and experiences?!”
“Yes, exactly!”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go out with us?” Annabeth asked for a second time, standing in Percy’s kitchen.
Percy did want to spend time with her, he missed her, but the idea of spending the night in bars and clubs, surrounded by alcohol and a bunch of sweaty college kids, and still having to act like he’s enjoying it so as to not make anybody worried quite literally sounded like his personal hell. He was already exhausted.
“I’m sure. I really don’t feel good.” Percy explained again, opening another bag of candy and emptying it into a bowl.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” Annabeth frowned and looked at her phone as she straightened up.
“Thanks for the offer, though. You heading out?” Percy watched as she grabbed her purse and walked toward the door.
“Yeah, I’m meeting Macy at her apartment.” Annabeth leaned over and kissed his cheek, one hand meeting his waistline. “Text me if you need anything, okay?”
“Yeah, of course. Have fun!” Percy responded, forcing a smile and trying to make it seem as genuine as he could.
“I will. Love you!”
“Love you too!”
Percy didn’t mind spending the night alone. He found comfort in it. Sure, it was lonely and he was slightly ashamed of the fact that he was a 20-year-old college guy and was spending Halloween night alone in his apartment. At the same time, though, the idea of doing anything but staying home alone kicked up his nausea by ten watts.
He popped some popcorn and turned on Halloweentown. He figured he could use this time to review all the Halloween classics.
Around 10 pm, Ethan texted him, asking how he was feeling.
Percy thought about what he should say. He liked Ethan, and he liked the idea of spending time with Ethan. But he couldn’t stop thinking about what Hazel and Frank had said, and spending time with a guy who may-or-may-not have a crush on him after he refused to go out with his girlfriend felt…wrong.
Eventually, he texted back. He said that he really appreciated the offer and that it sounded great—which wasn’t a lie—but that he wasn’t really feeling it tonight—also not a lie.
Of course man, Ethan’s reply was almost immediate. It didn’t sound any different, the tone wasn’t weird. He didn’t seem annoyed. Hope you feel better
Percy stared at it for a good five minutes, reading and rereading it in an attempt to try and find any hidden contempt or annoyance. Strangely, he couldn’t find any. It was the exact same as all of Ethan’s other texts.
Then, Percy realized that he had just spent five minutes analyzing the guy’s texts, and he thought about how pathetic that was. He turned off his phone and became determined to appreciate his own company. Normal people could spend time alone all the time. Percy could do that. Right?
After Halloweentown ended, he turned on Hocus Pocus.
There weren’t any trick-or-treaters, though that may have been because Percy never had gotten around to putting up those decorations. Percy ate most of the candy himself.
He did end up successfully distracting himself until he fell asleep, a miracle that he almost couldn’t believe once he woke up. It took him a second to believe that he wasn’t dreaming.
Light sunlight dappled against his eyes, reaching into his living room. Percy rubbed his face and looked at the tv which was still playing a random Scooby Doo movie, something Percy distantly remembered turning on the previous night.
His back cracked in protest as Percy sat up, reaching for his phone. He had a few messages from his group chat with Hazel and Frank, discussing whether or not they were still meeting for their weekly Saturday coffee.
Surprisingly, Percy actually felt pretty up to it. He was tired—he was always tired—but less exhausted than he had been in the previous days.
He sent a quick affirmation that he was good to meet up if they still wanted to, and was almost immediately met with two positive responses.
The good feeling, or at least, the less-bad feeling, lasted until he reached the coffee shop.
Percy, Frank, and Hazel met up every Saturday for coffee, something they started within the first few months Percy had been in New Rome.
“Hey, Perce!” Frank smiled as he caught sight of the other man. Percy found himself returning it semi-easily as he walked toward their table.
“Hey.” Percy sat down across from the pair, reaching for a menu despite already knowing what he was gonna order. “How’s it going?”
“I’m doing pretty good! How was your night?” Hazel asked as a waiter came over to take their order.
“It was pretty good! Chill,” Percy said after he ordered a latte and a croissant.
Frank and Hazel’s night had been the opposite. Apparently, Halloween made everybody crazy idiots, even military members. Hazel had spent the night dealing with spats between officers. Frank’s night consisted of paperwork, breaking up bigger fights, and more paperwork. Safe to say, Percy did not regret retiring his praetor position.
Percy’s good mood continued through the afternoon, and the difference was starting to make him a bit suspicious. He hadn’t felt nauseous, he wasn’t too tired, and he was honestly feeling a little happy. Well, maybe not happy, but he didn’t feel sad. Or tired, or angry. He felt…okay.
Percy pushed the skepticism away. So what if the okay feeling only lasted a few hours? It was still a few hours different than how he was feeling before.
Baby steps were still moving. Percy supposed he would take what he could get. Even though the headache was still steadily persisting and there was still a nagging feeling of impending doom in the back of his mind, Percy chose to try and focus on the good things. That was definitely a new thing for him.
No matter what happened, Percy supposed that he just had to keep making it through each day. He had done it for twenty years. Even if the depressed, numb feeling came back in full the next morning, Percy supposed he could keep doing what he had been doing.
Just make it through the day. It might not get better, but it could get…different.
Percy internally cringed at the thought. Different seemed to follow him around. But, just once, maybe he should try embracing it. The worst that could happen was he could fail miserably, and he’s done that enough times to have gotten used to the feeling.
Yeah, Percy decided. He would go with the flow. Fake it till he makes it. And if he wakes up the next day feeling the exact same as he usually does, well, at least he has consistency going for him.