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Grover woke with a start, not from a sound but from a feeling. Something unpleasant settled very deep and sudden in his stomach. At first, the feeling startled him but he recognized it immediately. It was Percy.
Other than Percy and, now, Grover, their quest mates were all asleep. It was the middle of the night and the day had been long. Depending on what happened next, tomorrow could be even longer.
Percy was gathering up all his things, movements frantic. He was leaving or, at least, planning to.
Standing up from where he was sleeping, Grover approached Percy like he would a wild animal that could be easily spooked. The difference was that Grover had no problem approaching wild animals. Being a satyr meant wild animals usually calmed in his presence. Being Percy’s best friend meant Percy also used to be calmed by Grover’s presence. That hadn’t been true since Annabeth was taken.
In the most gentle words he could muster, Grover said, “Percy no. Go back to sleep.”
“There’s no time for this Grover. She’s—”
“Did you have another nightmare?” Grover asked, though he already knew the answer.
He could sense it, feel it. Fear and dread radiated off of Percy in heavy waves. Grover could guess what the nightmare was about.
Percy’s response was only a nod, wordless, it was like the words wouldn’t come even if he wanted them to.
Even though Grover could guess what the nightmare was about, even though he already knew the answer, he asked the question, “what happened?”
Percy’s glassy eyes turned toward him. He looked tired, more than tired. He was exhausted, angry, sad, all of it.
Grover couldn’t blame him. This whole thing had been hard on him too. Annabeth was one of his best friends. She was in danger. She was missing or, possibly, worse. Grover couldn’t entertain that thought for too long. Whatever sadness he felt about the situation didn’t even hold a candle to Percy's feelings. He wanted to be there for him.
Finally, Percy talked, answering the question that hung heavy between them, “the same thing that happens every time. She’s right there. And she’s stuck and I can’t help. I can’t do anything about it. I yell and she can’t hear me. I try to reach her and it's like she’s not actually there.” He was rambling.
Grover spoke before Percy could say anything else, before the rambling turned to spiraling. “Hey no. You being here is helping. Yeah?”
At that, Percy sputtered, voice growing louder, seeming to not care about the others sleeping near them, “stop saying that! She’s just stuck there and I’m what? Sitting here? Waiting? We know where she is. We just have to get there. I just have to—”
“Percy.”
“What?” Percy’s tone was sharp.
So sharp that Grover winced at the sound of it. “You’re not gonna be of any use to her if you show up exhausted and without a plan.” Grover’s tone was sharp too though he didn’t necessarily mean it to be. It felt like he was almost stealing some of Percy’s anger. Grover was too tired to be angry all on his own. “So, yes. You’re waiting. You’re going back to sleep. And in the morning, once we all figure out where we’re going next, then we go. Not before that.”
Grover was trying to be logical, trying to say things in a way that made sense, trying to come up with a plan. He was trying to be like Annabeth.
Percy didn’t appreciate it. Apparently. “No.”
“What do you mean no?”
Percy was throwing his things into his bag, packing everything in a rush. A few feet away Zoë shuffled in her sleep at the noise.
Again, Grover tried to reason with him, attention flickering nervously to the bottle of water in Percy’s hands. “It’s the middle of night. You’re not gonna get very far by yourself.”
“You could come with me.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Be like what?” Percy retorted, eyes still trained down at his bag, still packing his things away, still acting like he was just going to disappear into the night.
Grover frowned. This was all so hard. He wished he had the right answer. He wished he knew what he was supposed to say. “Don’t act like I’m not worried too. Annabeth’s missing. Of course I’m worried.”
Percy flinched at the name as something else, a feeling that wasn’t all the way identifiable, seemed to spill out of him.
Grover watched on as Percy tried and failed to pull at the zipper on his bag. He was frustrated, that much was obvious at least. Grover took the lack of reaction to inch closer until he was hovering right next to him. “It’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” He placed a hand on Percy’s shoulder, trying to be comforting.
Again, Percy didn’t appreciate it. He pulled back and away, his brows turned downwards, his mouth was hard set in a scowl. “It’s not okay. She could be hurt. Or worse.”
Or worse.
It was true. There was no way to know for sure that Annabeth was okay. But for Percy’s sake and everyone else’s, they all had to believe that she was. So, Grover said, not sure if he believed the words himself, dropping his hand, “she’s safe. I’m sure of it.”
That seemed to wretch something awful out of Percy. The scowl slipped away, replaced by something sadder. As if he really wanted to believe Grover’s words but he couldn’t bring himself to. “How do you know?” Percy asked like he was grasping for reassurance.
Grover considered his next words, how to say them, how to not overwhelm Percy anymore than he already was. “Because,” he faltered for a moment, eyes glancing over Percy’s face, thinking, considering, “because you know it. Because you believe it.”
Percy didn’t say anything, just dropped the bag in his hands, basically throwing it down. The sound of it thumping to the ground was loud in the quiet.
Grover remembered something Annabeth had said, all the way back on their first quest, all the way back in St. Louis. Something that had started a long pattern of Percy and Annabeth constantly sacrificing themselves for each other. Grover wished they would both stop doing that.
Nobody could really fill the void that Annabeth left behind but Grover could maybe borrow some of her words. So, he said, “she’s alive. You know it.” Then, tacking on, he continued, repeating the sentiment, trying to keep his voice sure and unwavering, “you know she is.”
“No. I really don't.” Percy shook his head, not even giving the words a second to settle in the air around them.
Grover could see the rings of darkness under Percy’s eyes, could see the way his skin looked pallid and dim. Grover felt awful for it. For not the first time, the job title of “protector” felt very unearned. “Annabeth’s stronger than any of us. You know that. And besides with Luke—”
“Don’t.”
Grover reeled back any continuation of the words without a second thought. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say if he kept talking anyways. That he believed Luke wouldn’t actually hurt Annabeth? That wasn’t true. Grover didn’t exactly believe that anymore, not after that summer.
The rage that Percy felt whenever Luke was mentioned was almost suffocating. Grover remembered the first time he felt those feelings from Percy, the rage, the hatred.
It was that previous summer, not too long ago. Specifically, he remembered being stuck in that cave, when Annabeth got hurt, when Luke was the one who came to Annabeth’s rescue when Percy couldn’t.
That was the first time Grover felt the extent of it, how much Percy hated Luke but, also, how much Percy cared about Annabeth.
Having the empathy link, Grover knew Percy felt things very deeply. Even when he didn’t always show it, Percy was very emotional in a way that startled him. But, with Annabeth, it was always more.
“Look, there’s no use sitting here and speculating and worrying. Annabeth wouldn’t want you to do that,” Grover told him.
“Don’t tell me what you think she would want me to do.”
Grover grimaced at Percy’s words, trying very hard not to take them personally. Based on the way Percy’s eyes flickered after saying them, it was obvious he didn’t mean them.
“Sorry,” Percy said, voice quieter.
Grover just shrugged him off. “You’re just worried about her. I get it.”
“Yeah.” Percy’s voice was softer then, a lot softer. He threw himself down, tiredness taking over. “Just worried.”
This was the worst Grover had seen Percy. He found himself missing the assured cockiness his best friend sometimes had.
Grover was reminded of another moment when, again, one of his best friends sacrificed themselves for the other. Back in that cave when Annabeth used her dagger against Polyphemus to defend them and she ended up putting herself in harm’s way. Grover learned a lot of things in that cave, things about Percy and his feelings, how much he would sacrifice for the people he cares about, how hard he would try to protect them.
So, Grover told him, not something Annabeth would say, but something reminiscent of something Percy had said, after Annabeth had been taken the first time, “we’ll get her back.”
The flicker in Percy’s eyes shifted to something else, something a little more sure. His eyes were still glassy. He was still tired. But any fight left in him dissipated all at once. “Yeah?”
Grover answered, amending the words a little, “you’ll get her back.”
Percy’s response was the same but it wasn’t a question that time. “Yeah.”