Chapter Text
When he first saw her on the battlefield, the world stopped. She was facing a horde of cyclops and tearing through them with expert precision. She had always been a formidable fighter, but this was a new level. She worked with the brutality of a child of Ares, not Athena. For a moment, just a moment, he thought that maybe she would understand him.
Her eyes caught on him and she faltered. A cyclops saw her misstep and took the opportunity to clasp its massive hand around her neck. Percy didn’t consciously do anything. He just saw the cyclops suddenly buckle to the ground. Its skin was shriveling and it began twitching. Annabeth clambered free of its grasp and turned to fight the rest of the pack, but they were similarly indisposed. They began dissipating into dark powder as she sprinted towards him.
He couldn’t understand it then, but he didn’t run to meet her. He watched her navigate the battlefield, dodging projectiles and leaping over the malevolent earth. Then, her arms were wrapped around him. The side of her face pressed into his. Touching her wasn’t the comfort he had expected. It felt new. His skin had been almost entirely remade by scars, scars that had never felt her. He held her tightly regardless.
Something exploded nearby, and instantly a shield of water went up around them. Demigods have always had fast, ADHD-enhanced reflexes, but his had changed. It was as if his powers would react to his subconscious desires, always protecting him. Always on edge, even when he wasn’t fast enough. They kept him alive.
Annabeth looked around them at the orb of water, eyes narrowed, “How?”
But he didn’t answer her. He wasn’t ready to tell her that he could change the state of water effortlessly. Turning water vapor in the air into a water shield. Or boiling the water in the blood of the cyclopses. Instead, he studied her. The lines on her face were harder, her jaw sharper, her eyes more piercing than ever. She was covered in dirt and blood and ichor. This was the girl he had given everything for.
Annabeth gently touched his face, fingers resting on the scar running from his temple to his jaw and extending down his neck. The scar was raised and black, as if there was tar under his skin—a combination of a cursed blade and a likely infection. The scar was sensitive to her touch but the pain he felt was inconsequential.
“Percy?” Her eyes were watering. He could tell she didn’t know what to say. ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘I’m happy to see you’ both fell short for an occasion such as this.
“Annabeth,” he whispered, the only appropriate response.
She softened at his words and tenderly pressed her lips to his. He stifled a moan at the sensation. She was the best thing he had tasted in years. There was no sulfur or poison or rot. It was just the faint taste of cherries, a taste he recognized as her chapstick. He did not deserve this girl.
The emotions were too much. Percy collapsed to his knees. Annabeth tried to support him and ended up kneeling next to him, his body braced tightly against hers. She was yelling something at him, trying to break through to him. The water shield around them dropped. The earth began to quake.
Gaia might have been the earth, but he was the earth shaker.
He awoke in Cabin Three. The place didn’t feel real. He could barely believe that it existed outside of his dreams. The cool hues of the room were calming. Thick curtains kept out most of the sunlight that just peaked around their edges. He hadn’t seen such simple manmade objects in so long. He stared at the curtains, just trying to let his brain process the foreign object.
There was some nectar sitting in a cup on the bedside table with a swirly straw to drink it with. He thought that he probably should have laughed at the straw, but the reaction would not have felt genuine. He reached for the nectar and took a sip. As soon as it touched his lips, he recoiled, spilling some on his bed sheets. The pleasure the sweet taste induced was uncomfortable. He had acclimated so completely to being in a constant pain that the relief of the liquid hurt in a new way. He sat up in bed and forced it down slowly.
His brain was devoid of all thoughts except for Annabeth. She was alive. She looked different from how he had imagined her for years. He was trying to reconcile the two images in his mind.
The adrenaline that had coursed permanently through his body was confused. It didn’t know where to go. He felt his powers sitting readily inside of him. When he closed his eyes, he could sense the water in the air, the lake nearby, the plumbing surging beneath him, the people bustling around camp, the two people standing outside his cabin. He opened his eyes as the son of Hades materialized inside his room.
Shadow traveling must have gotten easier for him in the time they’d been apart. His cousin also had gotten taller and noticeably more muscular, clearly no longer a child. His dark hair was longer than Percy had ever seen it, and part of it was tied up. After seeing only monsters’ eyes for so long, Nico’s eyes were comparatively much lighter than he had remembered. In fact, Percy could clearly distinguish them as brown rather than truly black.
“Hey, Percy,” he said, not fully approaching the bed but rather keeping some distance between them.
He swallowed. Something as simple as a greeting seemed so absurd to him. When was the last time he had said hello to someone he wasn’t intending to kill. It didn’t feel right.
Nico looked away from him, tensing his jaw. “Listen, Percy. I wasn’t even there for a week, so I can’t imagine the things that you’ve seen.” Let alone the things that he had done. “If you ever want to talk about it, know that I’m here for you. And if you want to not talk about it, I’m here for that, too.” He twisted the ring on his finger. “It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow, but one thing I do know is that you can’t push people away. You’ll never come back to life that way.”
Interesting for the son of death to be lecturing him on how to live.
“Where’s Annabeth?”
Nico startled at his words. Percy imagined he wasn’t expecting to get any reply out of him. The corner of his lip tugged into a shadow of a smile.
“She’s outside. She doesn’t want to overwhelm you and wants you to take as long as you need. She only wants to see you if you want to see her.”
“She can come in.”
Nico smiled, a jarring sight for Percy, and said, “That’s great, man. I’ll be around,” and left.
Percy didn’t know what he was expecting. He had spent so many hours dreaming of their reunion. Of taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless. Of asking her to marry him one day.
Annabeth walked in slowly, and looking at her was a new kind of torture. Her curly hair was tied up into a messy bun, a few stray coils around her face. She had on a simple black tank top, and her long, tan legs carried her forward.
She took a wary seat on the bed, still giving him his personal space. She didn’t look at him like he was broken or like he was a monster, but she looked at him like she was looking for him.
“I love you,” her voice quivered with the words. The warrior from the battlefield was gone. He saw in her the girl who simply missed her boyfriend.
For so many nights, he had whispered the words “I love you, Annabeth” to fall asleep, but now they escaped him, refusing to be uttered to make what he had to do easier.
Instead, he took her hand and became acutely aware of how damaged he was compared to her. Annabeth’s knuckles were split. Her face and arms had some faint scars, white against her bronze skin. There were some colorful bruises here and there, but she was a masterpiece. The daughter of a war goddess.
Percy observed their touching hands. The entirety of his hand was shredded from a talon going straight through his palm. Most of his arm was coarse bubbly skin from a severe burn. His elbow joint was misshapen from breaking and healing incorrectly. The only places he’d seen his reflection were in his sword and in the water. He knew his nose had been broken more times than he could count and was horrifically bumpy. He knew one head injury had shattered the bone around his eye, and the entire side of his face looked smashed in. He’d kept his hair and beard short enough with haphazard hacking. The rate his hair grew at had become a rough way of estimating the passing of time.
As if she could read his thoughts, she said, “I kind of like the beard.” Percy blinked, her casual words struggling to register. “I think with the right trimming it could work.” Her smile was so sweet, her eyes big and beautiful.
“Annabeth, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she replied. He believed her, but he also knew that she should be afraid of him.
He let go of her hand to reach for another sip of nectar. It didn’t burn as much. Disappointing.
She scooted closer to him on the bed. Percy could smell her lemon shampoo. She was going to kill him. He would die right here wanting her. Wanting to be who he was three years ago so that he could be with her.
“Annabeth, I would do anything to keep you safe. You know that. And right now, keeping you safe means keeping you away from me.” His throat felt tight with the words.
Annabeth steels herself. “Percy, you are the most powerful demigod of our generation. I already knew that. What happened with Gaia was understandable.”
His expression darkened. “What happened?”
She shifted at his question. “You don’t remember?” Percy shook his head slowly. She took a deep breath. “We won because of you, no doubt. You saved so many people, Percy.” He braced himself. “You collapsed. The black lines,” she hesitantly traced one at his collarbone, “they started pulsing, and there was an earthquake. The earth, it started destroying itself, taking out demigods and monsters. Then the monsters started dissipating like the cyclopses, which I still don’t fully understand.” She let out a shaky breath. “But you kept me safe. Water surrounded me, blocking anything from hitting me, preventing me from being crushed. Your earthquake, it literally forced Gaia out of the ground. Jason took her up to the sky and Leo incinerated her.” Percy felt like he probably should have asked how many demigods he accidentally killed, but all he could focus on was that Gaia was destroyed and Annabeth was safe. He was pleased that his powers knew to protect her, but they still couldn’t be trusted. “It’s over, Percy.” Her voice was just above a whisper. “You can rest.”
Something in him repulsed at that, and the sink across the room exploded. It didn’t want to rest. Percy quickly stopped the overflowing sink.
“I’m not safe to be around.”
She brought herself closer to him, noses almost touching. “You’ve never been safe to be around.”
“I’m not kidding, Annabeth.”
“And neither am I.” Gods, why did she have to be so stubborn?
“The most dangerous thing in your life right now is me, and the only reason I’m like this is so that you would be safe. If I go and hurt you, then it was all for nothing.” Percy’s voice was jagged, almost a growl.
She didn’t back away but tears started streaking down her cheeks as she spoke. “Percy Jackson, I nearly tore myself apart with the grief and the guilt of knowing what you did for me. Do you know why it took us three whole years to defeat Gaia? Why hundreds of demigods died in a multi-year war? We had a chance not long after you had left, and I messed it up. I was too distraught over you to think clearly, and I ruined everything.” Her breathing is shaky. “You can’t let yourself think like that, doing the math of what sacrifices are worth what. I—I don’t even know how to begin to say thank you, Percy.” She sniffles and wipes her nose. “You know I would have gone for you.” She tried to back up, but Percy placed his hand behind her head, holding her close to him, telling himself he didn’t look like a monster.
“I know.” His words were slower. “And that’s why I never regretted my decision. Not once. No matter how bad it got. Because, gods, you’re here and you’re alive and you don’t look like me.” Percy’s gaze trailed over his butchered body to her beautiful one. Annabeth noticed. She always did.
“I don’t deserve what you did for me. And if not being around me right now is what you need, I owe you that. I owe you everything. I’m sorry.” She placed a gentle kiss at his cheekbone, the one that had been smashed in. She was still his weakness, and he owed a moment of weakness to the Percy who died sometime in the last few years.
He gripped her tighter and pulled her toward him. His mouth roughly found hers, and he felt her sharp intake of breath. Annabeth pulled away. “It’s okay, Percy. We can go slow. However long you—”
“I have waited long enough.”
Her grey eyes were so gentle as they met his and her voice a feather of a whisper. “Okay.”
He tossed the blankets off. She had been sitting with her legs hanging off the bed, and he pulled one over him so she could sit on top of him. He ran his hands up and down her back, and she felt so good. Being near her was like drinking the nectar, a pleasure so unfamiliar it felt like pain. Annabeth cupped his face in her hands and looked at him like he was beautiful. Like she was trying so hard to see who had been. Percy would do his best to give her him.
She kissed him this time, and he deepened it, slowly exploring her mouth.
Then, Annabeth broke it, stifling a small laugh.
Percy’s eyes went dark. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just,” she tried to suppress a smile. “You smell really bad, and you kind of taste like…I don’t know. Maybe something that’s rotting but also radioactive, but I don’t even know what something radioactive would taste like.”
She was too beautiful in her fluster. Her cheeks had flushed from their kiss and proximity. She clearly didn’t want to offend him with her comment.
“How about I go shower?” Percy offered.
She nodded happily. “And brush your teeth. At least three times.”
Annabeth slid off of him, and he moved to stand up. As soon as he shifted his weight onto his legs, he went crashing down. Annabeth was quick to get under him, her strong arm wrapped around his back to keep him upright.
He regained his balance and stepped away from her, blinking rapidly. “How long have I been out?” Percy asked.
“Three days. Will has been the only one in to check on you. We didn’t want to make a fuss around camp.”
“Thank you.” He swallowed. “Did you come to see me?”
“No,” Annabeth answered softly. “Not because I didn’t want to, but because I talked to Nico and we both thought it would be best for things to be on your terms. I was worried you would hate me—“
“What? Why?” The mere thought of hating her was preposterous.
She swallowed, then softly said, “I thought you would blame me. That you would reach a point where you decided I wasn’t worth it. That you would have wished you would have just let me go.” Standing next to him, she wasn’t that much shorter than him, but suddenly she looked so much smaller.
He gripped her shoulders and brought his face close to hers. “Annabeth, you kept me alive. You are the only reason I am alive right now. I had to make it back to you.” He took a deep breath that pained him. He had wanted to come back so that he could be with her again, but now he just wanted to make sure she would be safe. In the process of fighting for the one thing he wanted, he made himself too much of a monster to ever have her.
“You promise?” She asked as she brought her hands to his neck, touching what he knew to be his long, matted hair.
“Annabeth, I swear to you, I have never hated you. I could never hate you. Everything I have ever done and will do has been because I love you.”
He started to sway on his feet and she steadied him, always there for him.
“I love you, too.” She wrapped herself around him tighter. His arms looped around her waist. She felt so different. Her muscles were harder, but also she had become more of a woman. Percy wondered how old they were now. “But you do need to shower,” she mumbled against him. “Do you need any help?” Her face went pink at the question.
He let out a sigh that should have been a chuckle. “I’ll be okay.” He was not ready for her to see the disaster that was his body.
In the bathroom, Percy encountered a real mirror. He approached it slowly, as a morbid curiosity with his reflection grew within him. He brought his face close, close enough that his breathing resulted in a small circle of fog.
Dried blood glued together knots in his beard that would never come undone. The damage to his face was scarier with the clarity the mirror afforded him. He looked like a skeleton in the process of trying to rebuild its body. Having spent the vast majority of his life outside, he had previously built up quite the tan. Now, in the lighting of the bathroom, he could see that the patches of skin not covered in burns, wounds, or scars were a sickly pale hue. His teeth were filthy. He knew had lost one of them after a blow to the mouth. The fact that none of them had simply rotted out was a miracle he attributed to his accelerated demigod healing. He had paid his appearance zero attention during his time in Tartarus. Every decision had been centered on staying alive. He had been completely starved of so many small emotions, embarrassment being one of them, but looking at himself now, he felt the unfamiliar feeling creep in. He saw what Annabeth must have seen when she looked at him. Gods, he was hideous.
The only thing that hadn’t changed were his eyes, which made sense, he supposed. They were still a lively aquatic green. If anything, they looked brighter against the griminess of his complexion. It was eerie.
He imagined Will must have wiped some of the dirt off, but he was going to need a deep clean. Percy flipped on the sink, and water gushed out. The controlled stream almost made him laugh. He had grown so used to water that had to be fought for, that was toxic, or that was only present in a pitiful amount. After watching it flow for a few minutes, he stuck his head under.
Bliss. Cold and calming. While the nectar and kissing Annabeth had been a pronged pleasure, their strangeness almost hurting, the water felt like home. Somehow Percy knew this water was excited to see him. He looked back in the mirror, his hair plastered to the side of his head, water dripping down his cheeks. A harrowing smile spread across his face. He looked even more like a maniac.
Percy peeled off his clothes and got in the shower. After turning on the faucet, he stood in the water, unmoving, just letting it run over him. He wanted to make it storm outside. The clarity of the shower sharpened his mind, and he was quickly able to take in all the water around him, stretching up into the atmosphere. He felt his powers shift under his skin. They were happy to be of service. Focusing on the individual droplets pelting his body, he pulled on the sky. And it answered. He was sure of it before he even heard the drumming of the rain on the cabin roof.
His whole body released. His breathing slowed. This was better.
There were a large variety of soaps and scrubbing devices in the shower, and Percy got to work. There was so much filth. The water ran black. Some of his wounds had completely healed over to entrap dirt and rocks inside of him. He scrubbed methodically. The water felt good, but the feeling of getting clean was unsettling. He felt so exposed without the layers of grime.
He noticed lemon shampoo sitting in the shower and wondered if Annabeth had left it there for him. He opted for a different, unscented heavy-duty cleanser one. He could work out some of the knots in his hair, but cleaning his beard proved to be impossible.
After what felt like an eternity of work, he deemed that all of the dirt that could come off had come off. Some of it was going to take multiple rounds. Percy dried off and wrapped his towel around his waist. He brushed his teeth and swallowed a concerning amount of mouthwash, figuring that at this point, it couldn’t hurt. Looking around, he realized that he hadn’t brought any clothes in with him.
He debated going out to grab them, but he wasn’t ready for her to see him like this. His torso was a map of wounds. Not only did the black scars snake over his chest and back, but he had a rather large mottled mess of scars just below his ribcage from a manticore running him clean through. After cleaning up, he looked even scrawnier. He had lost every bit of fat on him and a concerning amount of muscle. Without the dirt hiding it, his ribs, collar bone, and pelvic bone were clearly visible. Percy looked mutilated and malnourished. To be fair, he was. He just didn’t want Annabeth to be disgusted by him. Or maybe that would be for the best. To keep her away. His brain was splitting.
“Annabeth?” He called from inside the bathroom. A few seconds passed and he heard her light footsteps.
“Percy, you okay?” She was right next to the door.
“Yeah. Can you bring me some clothes?” She sighed.
“Of course. Just give me a second.” He heard rummaging around the room, and then the bathroom door cracked. Her hands holding a pile of folded clothes popped through. He accepted them, thanked her, and then pushed the door shut again. She had picked out some simple grey sweat shorts and a navy cotton T shirt.
They swallowed him up. He had to aggressively yank on the drawstring to prevent the shorts from falling off. The T-shirt looked two sizes too big. Before cleaning up, he had looked like, or at least he had felt like a resilient warrior, and now he just looked like a depressed grandpa in need of a peanut butter sandwich. Accepting his fate in the clothes department, he rummaged through the drawers in the bathroom until he found a pair of scissors. He cut the knots out of his beard. Then, he grabbed the razor and buzzed it down to a dark stubble. He didn’t want to risk botching his hair even worse than it currently was. Even though the bar was literally in hell, knowing him, he’d be able to make the haircut worse.
After shooting himself one last glance in the mirror, Percy exited the bathroom. Taking in the cabin from this perspective, he could immediately tell that certain things weren’t how they had been. Most notably, there was a corner of the room that had been decorated neatly. There was a new bookshelf beside a wooden desk where Annabeth sat with her back to him.
He approached her, his footfalls silent. When he was a few feet away, he stopped to take in her workspace. She had maps rolled up in a bin, Ancient Greek books stacked, her tattered Yankees cap on a hook, and an expansive wall of photos.
He was surprised by how many of the photos he didn’t recognize. Piper was jumping onto Annabeth’s back in one. In another, Frank and Leo had their arms slung around her. One had Annabeth, Jason, and Will surrounding a very grumpy Nico wearing a flower crown. There was a close up of her and Hazel’s eyes, both clearly laughing. All of the photos featured older Annabeth and older versions of his friends.
Intermixed with at least thirty pictures were only two that he recognized—Percy and Annabeth’s date in Paris and the time he fell asleep in the strawberry fields, sunlight bathing his soft smile.
Bile rose in his throat. The dissonance between the boy in those pictures and who he had just seen in the mirror. It was too much.
“They made me take them down,” Annabeth said without turning around. “My pictures with you. Said I wouldn’t be able to focus if I couldn’t move out of my grief. They were right—Nico and Frank—but I didn’t listen.” She rolled her chair back and opened a drawer to pull out a book matching the ones on her desk. She turned around and took him in. Percy saw something flicker across her face, but it was gone in an instant. She opened the book. Pictures of the two of them filled the pages.
His body froze. His eyes were seeing but his brain stopped comprehending the images. They weren’t him. They would never be him. Never again.
She snapped the book shut, ending his trance. Annabeth stood up and immediately slid right next to him. “You’re so much better in person.” She ran her thumb over his stubble. “I like it.” Percy just blinked at her. “Is something wrong?”
Yes. No. Everything.
“I should go,” he said, now looking past her.
“Okay. Is there anyone else you want to see?”
“No.” He moved for the door, but she grabbed his hand to stop him. He relented.
“Where do you want to go?” She asked, eyebrows knit with concern.
Percy shrugged.
“Would it be okay for Will to come check on you? He’ll be really happy to hear that you’re up.”
Interacting with another person was the last thing Percy wanted to do, but he could tell how badly Annabeth wanted him to.
“Sure.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” She kissed him softly and hesitated before pulling away fully to whisper, “You taste much better now.”
She strode out of the room. As soon as the door shut, he collapsed into a crouch. Annabeth was everything. She was strong and brave and smart and absurdly beautiful all of the time. His fingers snagged as he tried to run them through his hair. The only flaw in her was that she liked someone like him. Although, she probably wouldn’t like him once she got to know him.
When the door opened, he sprung upright. Annabeth’s quizzical gaze landed on him, but she didn’t ask. The son of Apollo trailed behind her and lit up when he saw Percy. He literally lit up, a golden glow against the dim room. That was new.
“Glad you’re awake, Percy,” Will greeted. Percy said nothing. He had been doing a lot of that. He thought he used to talk more. When Will realized Percy wasn’t going to be responding, he clasped his hands together. “Want to sit down on the bed?”
Percy obliged. Will checked his vitals, treated wounds with a variety of salves, and said some prayers to Apollo, humming softly while he worked. Annabeth stood at the foot of the bed, ever vigilant.
Eventually, Will stepped back. “Alright, you’ve got quite a few bones that broke and didn’t heal correctly.” He gestures to Percy’s face and arm. As if I was unaware, Percy thought to himself. “I’ve only done it once, but I think I can reshape the bones. It’s going to hurt, though.” That got a sideways smile out of Percy. Pain was almost comical. Will noted his reaction and added, “As in ‘it made Clarisse cry’ type of hurt.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Perfect. I think it’d be best to do it in the bathtub, so that once the bones are rebroken, the water helps you help me heal them.”
In the bathroom, Percy was incredibly grateful for his ability to keep his clothes dry. He would have felt like a feeble skeleton if he had to strip them off. Once Percy got situated, water up to his torso and legs bent to fit himself in, Will started covering his face, arm, collarbone, and one finger in a sponge like film.
“The naiads found this stuff.” Will explained. “It has been really effective at channeling healing abilities. And I have some crazy potent ointment from my dad. I’m also going to have to light you on fire just a little bit.” Percy glared up at him with the dead stare of a shark. Annabeth had stayed in the main room, opting to give them some privacy. Percy appreciated it, but wasn’t sure how she knew that’s what he wanted.
Will struck a match and held it to the film. It was hot and getting hotter, making his skin hiss. Flames danced in front of his eyes from the dressing on his cheekbone. The film had begun to melt into him. Will kept one hand placed on top of Percy’s head and another at his wrist, as he muttered some prayers or poems or prayers in the form of poems. Heat blossomed inside his body in the affected areas. It was pulsing and searing, and Percy embraced it. He felt his powers stir. They wanted to protect him. Percy told them no, not right now. This pain was a good pain. They didn’t fully believe him. The water in the bathtub began reaching for Will, bringing itself to a boil.
Stop, Percy commanded. He coaxed the water back down. The mental battle had distracted him from whatever healing had been going on. He focused in on it now. He let the pain light his brain up until what should have been excruciation felt like a soothing melody.
When it was finally over, Will slumped over the tub. “I’m…‘kay,” he moaned.
Percy examined his arm, flexing it and testing it. The joint looked completely normal and his range of motion was restored. He climbed out of the tub, over Will, and to the mirror. His skin was reddened but his facial structure was pristine. A tear appeared, working its way down his cheek. That was odd.
Annabeth had a similar reaction. Eyes watering, she cradled his face in her palms and held him close to her.
“How do you feel?” She asked.
“Like it all makes sense why I couldn’t get my headache to go away,” Percy mumbled.
She snorted a laugh through her tears. “Was that a joke?”
“I don’t know,” Percy said sheepishly, and it was true. He wasn’t sure if that was intended to be funny or not.
Will emerged from the bathroom and instructed Percy to eat something. He gave a tight hug to Annabeth, a nod to Percy, and left the cabin.
“What do you want to do, Percy?” She asked. He and Annabeth were standing a few feet apart. He could tell the light outside the curtains was dimming, turning more orange. Silence. What did he want to do? He hadn’t acted on a want in so long, except for—no. He wasn’t going to think about that. He was going to think about the girl in front of him.
“I still need a haircut,” Percy told her.
“Lucky for you, that is one of the many skills I have picked up in the last few years.” Percy didn’t want to tell her about the skills he had picked up but knew she would ask eventually.
Annabeth had to buzz most of Percy’s hair away but preserved a little bit of length at the top. He was fully reassembled, if you will. Clean and dressed and healed and trimmed. Annabeth was pleased with her work, and he thanked her.
“Do you think you can eat?” She asked.
“Yes.” For her.
Annabeth offered to bring something back for him, but he said he wanted to go outside. The sky was waiting for him.
“Can I wear your invisibility cap?” He asked. “I’m not ready to see everyone.”
“Of course.” She passed him the hat, and he enjoyed disappearing. Not having a body riddled with scars. A body that told conflicting stories. A body he didn’t feel was fully his. Annabeth led the way out of the cabin.
She opened the door, and the sunset slammed into Percy. Cotton candy pink puffs danced with purple tufts of cloud. His breath hitched. He couldn’t do this. He stopped waking before they got off the porch. Annabeth must have heard his footsteps falter because she paused, too. His breathing became heavier, harder—why was his chest so tight?
“Percy?” Annabeth whispered. She turned around to him, her face bathed in the pastel light, eyes turned into reflecting pools for the color.
“I can’t,” he croaked.
“Let’s go back inside. There will be more sunsets.” She walked him, and he heard the faint grumbling of her stomach. He caught her arm.
“Go get food,” he told her softly. “I’ll sit here and wait.”
“Perfect. I’ll be back in ten.” Percy watched her walk through camp. When people saw Annabeth, they all gave nods. Every single person she walked past acknowledged her in some way or another. She was definitely important, which didn’t surprise him.
Camp looked different as well. There were large tents scattered among the cabins. Rubble and debris littered the area, and it was hard to distinguish between what was from destruction and what was from construction. The mood somehow seemed light. Music trickled out of the Apollo cabin. A group of girls had congregated outside the Aphrodite cabin to watch the sunset. Two small children played tag and were suddenly running in his direction.
The taller boy made contact with the other boy’s shoulder and he shouted, “Freeze!”
The smaller boy stopped in his tracks, only a few feet in front of Percy. The kid’s eyes went wide, and for a second Percy thought he could see through the invisibility.
But then he wailed, “You can’t leave me by the cursed cabin.”
“Then you shouldn’t have run this way,” the taller boy jeered. The kid sniffled as his friend continued, “Do you know why it’s cursed?”
“Because bad things happened to the son of Poseidon,” he squeaked indignantly. You could say that again, Percy thought.
“Not just ‘bad things.’ He went to Tartarus, that’s the darkest part of the Underworld. Olympians don’t even go there, it’s only monsters.” He stamped his foot with the last word, making the kid jump. He definitely could have just walked away but was taking this game of freeze tag very seriously. Percy respected it. “They say he became one of them down there.” Man, this kid really knows his stuff. “And we used to be able to hear the screams of everyone he killed come from this cabin.” Now that was news. “But he’s back now, and he’s hungry, not much to eat in Taratar…tarus.” The kid struggled with the word. “The monster is in the cabin right now, and he’s wanting his first real meal. And you’re a snack waiting on his doorstep.” The smaller boy fully burst into tears.
“Please don’t leave me!” The kid cried.
“Liz will be around soon enough to unfreeze you, unless I get her first!” The taller child gave the boy a shove, and Percy officially lost his tolerance with this bully.
Small tendrils of water reached out from the door of the cabin. Freeze tag forgotten, both kids started sprinting away. The water latched onto the bully’s ankles and yanked him back. He fell face first onto the ground and was pulled shrieking all the way to the door of the cabin. Once there, Percy drenched him in water. What if I burned him just a little, something inside Percy whispered, and before he had the chance to say Hades, no, the kid started writhing. Horror unfurled inside Percy. He felt his connection to the water and begged it cooler and cooler. A little bit of steam surrounded the kid, and as soon as he realized he wasn’t being restrained, he scrambled away from the cabin and ran away screaming.
Percy didn’t know what was happening. He knew his powers had grown during his time in Tartarus, stretching beyond what he previously would have believed possible. They could anticipate his needs. They always protected him. He owed his life to them. But this encounter, along with what had happened with Will in the bath, confirmed something that he thought was happening. For most of his life, his powers had been intertwined with who he was. They served him. He had to consciously use them. But now, they had grown beyond his control. He had wanted to scare a bully, not burn a child. He needed to go.
He couldn’t be near camp, his friends, and certainly not Annabeth like this. She had said his powers had protected her, but what if they changed their mind? It wasn’t a risk worth taking.
The sunset felt like a cruel joke now. Its beauty was just a reminder of what he couldn't have. Just like the girl walking towards him, carrying a plate stacked with cheeseburgers, chicken tenders, and french fries.
“Would you happen to know why a new Ares kid ran through camp screaming that Cabin Three was going to kill us all?” Unsure of his exact position, Annabeth held out the tray to his invisible self. Percy took it from her, and she sat down next to him, her shoulder up against his. She ate a french fry.
“It was an accident,” he replied glumly.
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow.
“I told you I wasn’t safe to be around.”
“What happened?” No response. Where was he supposed to begin? “Not in Tartarus.” She clarified. “What happened with the kids just now? They’re my responsibility.” Her tone was more serious. He picked up a cheeseburger and took a bite. His brain was already so overloaded that he barely registered the sensation of eating real food. “Percy, you need to be honest with me.”
How could he? But how could he ever lie to her?
“My powers are different. Not just stronger, but like they have a mind of their own. Sometimes we want to do the same thing, and sometimes…sometimes they want to burn a little kid.”
“Burn?”
“Water can boil.” Blood can boil, too.
“Hm.” She took a bite of chicken tender. “So you think that you need to disappear so that you don’t hurt anyone.”
“Yes.”
She leaned her head onto his shoulder. “That’s dumb.” He knew she understood. The way he could still read her was terrifying. It gave him hope.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Percy mumbled. He felt the waters shift inside him, not completely in agreement.
“I know that, Percy.” Her thumb had begun tracing small circles on his leg. “Camp would be the best place to get help. You can stay as isolated as you want. We can talk to your dad or Apollo—I’m sure there’s a god who would be willing to help.”
“No. No gods,” he said. “I’m done with the gods.” He could tell she was deliberating if she should ask for an explanation or not. He offered one anyway. “Any one of the Olympians could have rescued me. Sure, Tartarus isn’t fun, but it would have been doable. I fixed their messes so many times.” His voice was shaking. “I saved their damn immortal lives, but mine wasn’t worth the inconvenience.” He ripped a fry in half.
Annabeth nodded glumly. “We asked them for a list of all their kids so that we could get them to camp quicker. They never got around to it.” Percy wasn’t surprised. “The split between their Greek and Roman forms was excruciating, and they did help us sometimes, but not about you. I begged them to go looking for you. I offered to go with. They said no. Grover swore you were still alive from the empathy link, but it wasn’t concrete enough for the gods to be willing to risk it. There were rumors about you, stories that monsters brought out.” Percy knew that much. His only source of news had been regenerated monsters who went to the world, were slain, and came back to Tartarus. “I don’t know why they didn’t help before, but after what you did with Gaia, they’re in your debt again.”
“That’s not a position they want to be in,” Percy said darkly and was glad Annabeth couldn’t see the grin that had taken over his face. It was the only kind of smile he had left, one of malice and revenge.
“They’ve cooperated a bit. Put their necks on the line to slay all the giants. Some of them have even shown up to camp to check on their kids in the past week.” That took Percy by surprise.
“Who?”
“Hermes, Apollo, Demeter…Poseidon.” Her voice trailed off. “I’d never seen a god cry before. He’s really glad you’re back, Percy.” Percy pictured his dad inside Cabin Three looking over his mangled body resting in bed. He didn’t like the image.
“And my mom?”
“She’s safe. We told her you’re alive.” Annabeth swallowed. “She has been so strong. We’ve leaned on each other a lot. I’ve really needed her.” His mom was waiting for him just a couple of hours away. Seeing him like this would probably break her.
They continued eating in silence. Percy couldn’t finish his burger. It was starting to make him nauseous. The evening had advanced from sunset to twilight. Torches were being lit around camp.
“Don’t you have stuff to do?” Percy asked Annabeth.
“Always,” she chuckled. “Jason and Frank have been picking up my slack today. They wanted us to have some time together.” That was nice of them. It also meant they were alive. That was good.
“Who didn’t make it?” The dark question bubbled to the surface.
“Percy, we don’t have to do this right now.”
“I want to know.”
He saw her tense and shift into her flinty commander composure. Her voice was perfectly even as she said, “Tyson, Reyna, Chris, Connor, Katie, Hedge. There’s a wall near the Dining Pavilion where we write names.” She inhaled. “Hazel has been in some sort of coma for about six months from dueling with another sorceress, and Leo…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Leo incinerated himself in the fight with Gaia last week, but Nico has sworn his soul is nowhere to be found in the underworld. We hope he’s out there.”
So many people were gone, but it felt almost hollow to Percy. He had spent so long believing he would never see anyone ever again. He just happened to be right about some of them.
Percy should have said something. He definitely used to be much better at talking, which made sense. He had no one to talk to for so long after him and Bob parted. Towards the end of his time in Tartarus, he even stopped trash talking the monsters. His vocal chords felt funny. They had become better suited for screaming than speaking.
Annabeth was suddenly waving at someone, her demeanor much more relaxed. The sight of Jason and Frank made Percy want to disappear. Then, he remembered he was already invisible.
They had been hardened into warriors. They both had clearly gained a lot of muscle. Jason’s sleeves stretched around his biceps, probably the same size shirt that was currently hanging off of Percy. It wasn’t so much that the boys made Percy self-conscious about his dilapidated body, but they showed him an alternate reality of himself if hadn’t spent years in Tartarus. He’d be walking with them as a respected leader. They were clearly tired, but there was still something inside of them that Percy knew was missing from him.
Maybe the emotion he was feeling was jealousy. While his friends clearly hadn’t had a normal teenage experience, they looked like they had grown from the last few years. Percy had only been broken down.
Jason gave Annabeth a fist bump.
“How’s he doing?” The son of Jupiter asked.
Annabeth hesitated, her eyes flicking to Percy’s invisible self for a split second. She was giving him a chance to reveal himself. He didn’t take it.
“He’s awake,” she replied with a small smile but didn’t offer more. Jason chewed his lip. His nose appeared to have been broken once or twice. The three demigods looked at each other. Percy could tell how much they cared about each other. He had only known Jason and Frank for a few weeks and had felt a strong camaraderie with them, but to Annabeth, he knew these friends had become her family.
“How are you doing?” Frank broke silence.
She brushed a loose curl behind her ear. “I’m…grateful,” she said slowly.
“That’s a good thing to be.” Jason smiled.
“It is,” she agreed, but Percy saw the glossiness in her eyes.
“Are you going to be at the meeting?” Frank changed the subject.
“I think so. I just need to say goodnight to him first.” Annabeth picked up the dining tray and stood up, stretching her legs.
“Great. See you then.” Frank gave her a sideways hug, and the two departed.
Annabeth entered the cabin and held the door open for an invisible Percy. The cabin was almost pitch black, and Annabeth flipped on the lights.
He took off the invisibility cap and discarded it onto her desk. His body appeared before him, and he averted his eyes.
“You should go to your meeting,” he mumbled.
“I will.” She approached him and slipped her hand under his shirt to the small of his back. He shivered at her touch. “Goodnight, Percy.” She placed a kiss on his cheek.
“Goodnight.” His voice was barely audible.
Then, he pulled her in for a kiss. He had to. He was weak, and he wanted her, and he knew what he was going to do a moment later, but he didn’t even regret it.
After she left, Percy didn’t hesitate. He found a backpack and threw a few changes of clothes into it, grabbed his toothbrush, and rummaged through Annabeth’s desk for a stash of ambrosia and a pocketknife. He switched his shorts for cargo pants (and a belt to keep them up properly), slipped into a hoodie, and put on a non-magical baseball cap. With Riptide in his pocket, he hopped out the back window of the cabin.
This wasn’t a main area of camp, so the only light was from the distant torches and the moon. He was grateful for the clouds hiding the stars. He wasn’t ready to see those yet. Head on a swivel, he made for the woods.
After about an hour of walking, he ran into his first monster. Finally. A hellhound in the woods—how nostalgic.
Before Percy could decide how he wanted to kill it, the beast began to shake. Percy knew its blood was leaking out of its veins. It wouldn’t be long until all the organs shut down. The monster seized, collapsed, and then disappeared into gold dust. That wasn’t fun. He would need to keep a better hold on his powers and prevent them from acting without him.
He kept trekking for hours, stopping only to vomit up half of his dinner. He ended up at a beach and figured his internal water compass must have pointed him there. He laid down in the sand right where the sea met the shore, spread his arms and legs, and closed his eyes. Maybe the only thing that hadn’t changed about Percy was that he loved the ocean. He let the water wet him and then wondered if people were still debating if water was wet. His vote was yes, and he figured his opinion should have some extra sway. His thoughts were clearer in the surf. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
Percy had spent three years trying to get back to Annabeth, to his friends, to his family, and the first thing he did was leave. He really must have gone insane. Apart from the role he had played in defeating Gaia, he felt like it would have been better for everyone if he had just died. Now that she was gone, maybe that was his best option.
What did he want? He wanted Annabeth to be safe and happy. He wanted the gods to be better parents. Those desires sounded eerily familiar. Maybe he wasn’t as irreparably damaged as he had thought. No. He knew better. While sixteen-year-old Percy would have agreed with those goals, he wouldn’t be willing to do what Percy was now. The Percy laying on the sand that night would happily manipulate, torture, and kill anything and anyone standing in the way. Percy had thought about Luke a lot while in Tartarus. He had wished that he had taken his mentor’s complaints about the gods more seriously. Maybe they could have joined forces and found a better way to overthrow Olympus.
But Percy wasn’t particularly in an Olympus-destroying mood. People he loved would probably get hurt in the process. He probably should have returned to camp to exchange stories about what had happened over the last few years and figure out how he could be of any help. But Percy thought of a much better idea, one that would still be helpful but a lot more fun.