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“Isn’t it beautiful?” Grover looked over at Percy and tried to muster a smile that his friend wouldn’t see through. Unfortunately, the empathy link went both ways, and he couldn’t hide his worry any more than Percy could hide the anger and regret humming in his veins.
Percy played along, the way he often did, looking around and taking a deep breath. “It’s beautiful, G-Man.” And he knew that much was true.
The mountains were breathtaking, the spirits friendly, the air clean, and the waters crisp with snow melt.
It was also hundreds of miles away from either camp, and Grover had begged the local nature spirits to help ensure a peaceful weekend.
“Let’s set up our tent, yeah? And then I’ve got enchiladas and blue Coke in the cooler.”
Percy nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
Together, they made short work of setting up a tent gifted by Thalia. It wasn’t quite as nice as the pop-up tents the Hunters of Artemis used, but maybe an older model. It only needed a few stakes and for them to find the central enchantment.
Soon enough, they had a tent about the size of a single-car garage, replete with a brazier and sleeping bags. The space was clean and thankfully free of any pelts.
“Whoa,” Grover breathed, running his hands over the central column, feeling the ancient wood hum under his touch. Percy cracked a smile, watching him as they entered their oasis for the weekend.
After wandering around with his jaw on the floor like a fool for another minute, Grover shook himself. “Right. Food and drink.” He rummaged through the cooler and brought out some fresh strawberry juice for himself and a can of Mr. D’s special ‘Peter Johnson’ blue Coke for Percy.
“Thanks.” He cracked the can open and took a long swig, leaning back on a beanbag.
Grover didn’t know how Percy managed to do that. How he managed to take all of the anger and pain and cram it down, looking brooding, but placid. It couldn’t be healthy. Actually, looking at the bags under Percy’s eyes and the slight tremble in his fingers, Grover knew that it wasn’t.
Swallowing hard, Grover got to work heating up the enchiladas, letting Percy rest in the tent.
After they made their offerings and their prayers, after they had eaten until they were full, and after they had lain out a blanket on the grass and settled in to watch the sunset, Grover turned to Percy.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Percy’s face contorted into a grimace, his nose scrunching. His eyes fell shut for a second, and he visibly steeled himself.
“Nico is in Tartarus. Again. On purpose.”
Grover inhaled sharply and then gave a brisk nod. “Right. Annabeth mentioned that.” She had also mentioned how Percy’s subsequent nightmare the next day had blown up the plumbing in half of the dorms at New Rome University.
Percy let out a low growl and raked his hands through his hair, and a spike of anger and self-loathing stabbed through their link. “He’s only going there because I failed.”
“You didn’t—“
“I did!” Percy snapped. “I failed to save Bob, and now Nico has to go back to the fucking Pit because I’m a terrible friend, and I always have been. I couldn’t save Bob. I was going to stay, but I didn’t, and now Bob is crying out for help, but not to me,” he cried. “I was never a true friend to him. Of course he wouldn’t ask me.” Percy took a shaky breath. “But what if it costs me Nico, now?” Percy choked, his words fast and harsh, breaking around a sob at the end.
“Percy…” Grover’s heart ached. “Nico is strong. He’ll make it back.” It sounded like a platitude even as he said it. Percy was the strongest demigod Grover had ever known, and Tartarus had shattered him in ways he still couldn’t comprehend, even with the empathy link. How would Nico manage a second trip? Instead, Grover tried to focus on Percy. “You are not a bad friend. You’re the best friend. My best friend.”
Percy shook his head, morose as he sat up and wiped his nose on his forearm. “Nico’s right. I forget about people. I forgot about Bob. Twice. I forgot about Calypso. Just look at that evil perfume lady from last year. I don’t even remember the first time we met her.”
“I don’t either,” Grover pointed out, “and I’ve been on a lot less quests than you have, and I didn’t have goddess-induced amnesia.”
“I couldn’t save Bianca, or Lee or Beckendorf or Michael. I-I didn’t even know when Jason died,” Percy sobbed, putting his head in his hands. If I had just found a way to get Bob and Damasen out, then Nico and Will wouldn’t be—“
“Hey.” Grover cut him off, gently laying a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Percy, you didn’t do anything wrong. Bob and Damasen knew you had to return to the surface. You had to be there to fight the Giants and Gaea.”
“Yeah, my fucking nosebleed sure saved the day.”
“Percy.”
“But—“
“No,” Grover said, firmer now. “Look at me.”
Percy did, his face blotchy, his eyes wet. Grover balled up the sleeve of his hoodie and wiped at Percy’s face. “You did the best you could, Percy. You made the Olympians promise to free Calypso, you hadn’t even promised her that. You told me that you promised to plant the moonlace, and you did.”
Slowly, Percy nodded.
Grover continued. “Bob wasn’t always your friend. He was trying to kill you and Nico and Thalia. You are the only reason the three of you are alive. You are the only reason the Sword of Hades didn’t fall into Kronos’s hands.”
Percy sniffled, some contemplation bubbling alongside his stew of anger and regret.
Grover pressed on. “You didn’t visit Bob, sure, but no matter how many times you’ve been to the Underworld, it’s not like you have a free pass. How were you going to visit?”
“I still could have at least asked Nico about him.”
“Sure,” Grover allowed. “But you were also in the middle of a war, then the rebuilding, and then you were kidnapped and in a goddess-induced coma!” Grover’s voice cracked, and his own grief from that time echoed across their bond. He had known Percy was not dead, but for the longest time, that had been all he’d known. “You were allowed to be busy. To have other things on your mind.”
Percy let out a long breath and sighed. “I just… wish I could have done more. Y’know?” He looked exhausted now. “I was so busy with school. So focused on trying to go back to being a normal teenager, that I didn’t even know Jason had died. We were supposed to stay in touch,” Percy croaked.
“I knew he was having a hard time adjusting to mortal life,” Percy whispered. “I knew he was stressed working on the temples and going to school. I was supposed to be his friend.”
Grover leaned over and pulled Percy into a hug. He could empathize with the pain in Percy’s heart and voice. There was a reason Grover left the empathy link, despite the risks. If the worst ever happened to Percy… well, Grover thought he would make a better weeping willow than weeping satyr.
“Communication was down,” he reminded gently. “The emperors had blocked all magical forms of communication, and even interfered with email. There was no way for you to reach out, Percy.” Percy sobbed, and Grover rubbed his back. “Jason knew the risks. He wanted to help Apollo. We can honor his sacrifice without blaming ourselves for things we could not control and the choices our friends made.”
Percy sobbed again, his fists clenched tight in the fabric of Grover’s hoodie. Grover held Percy tighter and weathered the storm. The nearby creek developed white-capped rapids, and a sudden rain drenched them both, but Grover held fast.
Percy needed him, and Grover wouldn’t let go.
Slowly, maybe minutes or hours later, he felt some of the tension and the regret loosen in Percy’s heart. It wasn’t gone, no, but it was lighter.
Grover knew grief, and he knew regret. So many satyrs he loved had given their lives to search for Pan. So many brave nature spirits had gone down fighting against the Titans and against Gaea’s force.
He may be a lord of the wild now, but he would always be Percy’s guide first, and he would guide his friend in this, too.