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ameagrice · 11 days ago

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percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-eight | headlock

You sit up so suddenly that your forehead collides with someone else’s. Groaning, your hand on your head, you open your blurry eyes and blink until your vision returns to normal.

The sky is still bright. Someone’s used Percy’s burial shroud as a pillow for you, where it rests on the floor, balled up. Your head hurts, though you can’t be sure if it’s from smacking against someone else’s, or if it’s from passing out.

“Well,” someone chuckles with humour, “that’s one way to wake her up.” They extend a plastic bottle down to you, shaking it impatiently. Clarisse is standing above you, laughing. “Take it, then!”

You’re aware of water dripping down your face, but even more aware of the parched feeling in your throat. You remember you barely managed to get breakfast, never mind a proper drink. If you went and checked your levels now, they would scream dehydrated.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth crouches with concern, laying a hand on your shoulder. “You fell pretty hard.”

“Yeah.” You cough to clear your throat, dancing your eyes around the small group. “I feel…fine…”

He stands at the back, with his hands in his pockets, head ducked awkwardly. There’s Annabeth next to you, Clarisse in front, jabbing jokes (although, that look she’s trying to cover up might be worry), and then there’s him. Percy Jackson. He glows with health, and even looks a couple of inches taller than he did the last time you saw him. That might just be because you’d been cloaked in the dark tunnels though.

“You’re not dead.” You blurt, without thinking. “You’re not dead.”

“Great, right!” Clarisse slaps a hand hard on your aching head. You wince, leaning back. “I’ll grab us some food. You look ashy, and I’m starving after the show.”

Ouch. But food would be nice. You feel your stomach eating itself, and sigh.

“So,” Annabeth breaks the ice. “Percy isn’t…gone after all.“

“I feel like I’m in a bad dream,” you raise your eyebrows and shake your head slowly.

“This is a good thing…isn’t it?” Annabeth nervously looks between you and Percy. “This is…Percy’s breathing! Yay!”

“Where were you?” You ask. “I waited for you.”

“Oooookay,” Annabeth pats your shoulder. “Let’s get up. We can talk about this somewhere more comfortable.”

So you move to the Big House. The whole time, Percy can’t look you in the eye, always focussing on your shoulder, or just staring at his feet. He answers Annabeth only in short words and humming replies. It strikes you as weird because Percy’s a talker.

Inside, Chiron fixes you a glass of water and a snack, and tells you to sit on the couch before you fall over again.

Then the interrogation begins.

“Where have you been?” You demand, swinging your hand around so violently the water in the glass spills over on to the carpet with a thud. “We spent weeks thinking you were ten feet under and then you just show up like, what? Like you’re the guest of honour?”

Leaning on the arm of the chair opposite, Percy crosses and uncrosses his arms, mouth opening and closing when he thinks better of whatever he was about to say. Chiron, the silent observer, clears his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Percy mumbles, “I got lost.”

You splutter for words, throwing another tip of water on the carpet. Chiron buts in, pushing a mediating hand between the two of you. “Now, now. This is a shock for everybody, I know. Drink your water, dear. You’ve barely woken up.” As if that’s the reason you’re in shock.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just…you’ve been gone for weeks. What happened? You sent me away and then…”

At last, his vibrant eyes meet you. Freckles have come out, dark against his tan skin. Percy’s mouth twists, he looks away almost in guilt. Instantly, your stomach grows heavy, your eyes harden in suspicion.

“I caused the explosion at the mountain,” he starts, “that was my fault. There were too many of them there—monsters, I mean. I blew the place up, and I thought I’d died. But I woke up in the middle of nowhere, my skin was burned up, and everything was hurting. And, well, that was it. The island healed me up, Hephaestus dropped by to see how I was doing, sent me home when he was ready, and here I am.”

You grit your teeth. You don’t move. You don’t blink. Annabeth shifts on the back of the couch, taking the glass from you.

“And where was this ‘oh magical island?’?” You pry. “You Must. Have. An idea. Right?”

“I—I don’t know. I just woke up there. I think Hephaestus sent me there to get better.” Percy avoids you again. Chiron has grown very serious.

You sit forward violently. “Hephaestus who can’t acknowledge his own children, sent you to a magical island to get better,” you emphasise each and every letter, “out of the goodness of his heart—AFTER, might I add! AFTER you blew up his forge?”

Chiron snaps your name angrily. It might be the first time he’s shown any sort of anger towards you that you can remember.

“I know how it sounds,” he raises his hands in a placating manner. “Just hear me out before you go trying to kill me, please. It sounds ridiculous from an outsider’s point of view, but trust me on this. When he came back for me, Hephaestus, he told me that we can get through the maze.”

“Oh, you want to go back down?”

“What did he tell you?” Annabeth sets a hand on your shoulder, cutting you off from saying anything further. “What’s next?”

“Well he sort of told me that I already knew how to get through the maze. At the time I wasn’t sure what he meant. But now I do.”

“So what’s the answer.”

“We need a mortal. We need a mortal’s help for this,” he grimaces at the look on your face. You can’t explain what look it is, though. “Just like Theseus had Ariadne’s help originally.”

“I’m sorry,” you snort. “Are we forgetting whose quest this is? Why are you calling the shots?”

Chiron looked uncomfortable. “Did you have any particular mortal in mind, Percy?”

“Yeah, I do, actually,” he laughs lightly. “She’s called Rachel. She lives in New York. A while back I ran into her a couple of times, she has enough Sight to help us with this.”

You see red. “This is my quest. We all understand that don’t we? I was quite literally chosen for this. Why are we giving away this to some random girl in the city?!”

“I understand how you’re feeling,” Chiron manages, “This is your quest. But you need help.”

“Oh, and this random girl is supposed to help?” You flat your hands. “Please! Can’t you see how bizarre this is! It’s wrong! It’s cowardly! It’s—”

“Hard to admit we need a mortal’s help,” Percy cuts in gently, frowning. “But it’s true.”

Falling silent, you drop back into the chair, suddenly tired. Raising your gaze from the carpet, Percy is still looking at you, with a little bit of sorrow in the guilt. He looks away, and Annabeth pats your shoulder.

“Want me to leave you to talk about it?” She says. You can feel yourself falling away very quickly from the current scene, the situation becoming that of background noise, like you’re in a bubble. “I’ll go check on Clarisse?”

“If you could, please, Annabeth…”

So she does. Which leaves yourself, Percy and Chiron to talk things over.

“We can talk later about your—choices, Percy,” Chiron coughs. He addresses you briefly. “But this is your choice, if you should go on with the quest, my dear. Your choice only. As only Percy has returned thus far, I will allow you to choose another person to accompany you the rest of the way, should you choose to go.”

Your head snaps up. The line between your eyebrows appears again, so close to turning permanent. “What?”

The air stills. Chiron side-eyes Percy briefly. “Three people is right for a quest. You first chose Grover and Percy. Since Grover has, circumstantially, chosen to leave for the time being on his own journey to find the god Pan, it is only Percy, and yourself, now,” he says somewhat disagreeably, like even he can’t comprehend how the situation has turned to this.

“Wonderful,” you snap, “that’s—that’s brilliant. Supposed we’ll have to have Rachel Dare’s help then, won’t we?”

‘Three’s a crowd’ sits on your tongue. You don’t have the guts to say it just now. Percy tips his head down, and waves of immaculate hair tumble with the movement. You find yourself transfixed on it, and not in a good way. You don’t need a mirror to understand the firm, and angry look on your face. Something scratches in your stomach, bothering you deeply. On the arm rests, your hands clench at the material. You don’t blink. Don’t even move. What did Chiron say? Something about Percy’s choices. Percy’s choices…

Had he chosen this?

You eye the silver line in his hair. Was this, weeks of torment and starving and hunger for something not edible but emotional all Percy’s choice? Were you but a knock-on effect in the sea that was Percy’s choices? Had he really chosen your sleepless nights and hungry stomach and teary eyes over something he refused to disclose? Without so much as a sorry?

Percy’s choices led you here. They always had, of course. Because now you’re thinking about it, it was Percy who chose to sit next to you in class, to enter your life. It was Percy you were with when you found out you’d only known half a life, the other beginning at Camp. It was Percy who took you out of the equation for his first quest, and Percy who, by Chiron’s choice of words, made a choice that caused him to disappear for weeks on end. He came back, why? Had he come home only because you were the afterthought filling him with guilt? Is that the look in his eyes and on his face? Is it eating him up inside?

Yes, you hope.

You hope it is.

The most awful part of you hopes it is hurting as much as it hurt you to think he was dead and buried somewhere you’d never reach again.

“Let us not burn a hole in Percy’s forehead,” Chiron jokes with mirth and worry, reaching forward to unfurl your fist. “You should get something to eat. The girls will be waiting for you. I have to talk to Percy.”

Not even a sorry, you think, getting to your feet again. He doesn’t look up, not even when you open the door. Not even a sorry.

You don’t find Annabeth or Clarisse. You go back to your cabin, have a total nervous meltdown, cry a lot, and fall asleep in your bed, tired, until nightfall, when the others fall in after dinner. Nobody’s surprised at all to see you curled up in bed, but a few people were nice enough to bring back a good plate of food and a bottle of water.

Sometime around midnight, when everyone is asleep, you climb out of bed and pull on a sweater over your pyjamas, pulling on the hood strings as you step out and close the door silently behind. It’s not a good idea being out after lights out—the harpies go insane, and the creatures in the forest come out with confidence. But there’s something magic in the way their bioluminescence creates pockets of light in the trees, and the sound reminds you of movies. If you look past the potential danger those little creatures possess, it’s really beautiful.

But they’re not what you’re looking for right now.

The lights are out in every cabin but one, whose very essence seems alive now the only inhabitant is home. The light coming through the curtains is warm and dull but there, like the beating heart of the building. At the door, you hesitate. Is it worth talking to Percy? Has he bothered with you? But you’re here now so you may as well.

You knock three times and take a step back, waiting. Percy drops something inside, and before you know it the door opens. He’s still wearing today’s outfit of shorts, t-shirt and jacket, but you don’t feel embarrassed of standing before him in your old pyjamas and Hollister sweater. Percy blinks like a deer in the headlights, his mouth opening and closing but not saying anything.

You inhale deeply. “Imgladyourenotdead!”

He comes back to normalcy. “What?”

Exhaling, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Oh,” he pauses. “Me, too. I mean I’m glad you’re, like, here. Not that I’m not glad I’m not dead. Which I am glad about, but—”

You break out into a smile, which causes Percy to relax. His shoulders grew softer and deflate, and a dopy smile replaces his deer look. He steps back and opens the door wider, inviting you in. You accept his offer.

There are pieces of paper strewn all over the floor by Percy’s crumpled up bed sheets, hanging half off the bed. You can’t quite make out what the papers say, the majority of them balled up or ripped to shreds. A water bottle lays leaking on the floor; that must have been what he’d dropped. Greek letters on one of them, but you’re not close enough to read it. You’d learned in high school that Percy was dyslexic, and never figured it was a big deal. For Percy, coming to Camp and realising his brain was hardwired for Greek and Ancient Greek over English; everything made sense. He still struggled with it at times, but you’d noticed the improvements.

“I’m sorry,” you squeeze out. Apologies have never been easy for you. “About earlier. Being so angry. I was just…shocked. You know, we really thought you were gone forever. Thought I’d have to wait a couple decades to see you again Downstairs.”

Percy hums. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean for, well, all of this. I tried to get back. It was just out of my control.”

You turn from the papers, walking backwards until you sit on Percy’s bed, listening intently. “Where did you go?”

He opens his mouth, but looks away, and pauses. “I don’t know. Some island. Like I said, Hephaestus sent me there. He didn’t explain much to me. I just woke up there. The island healed me.” His words are heavy and meaningful, and you can almost convince yourself he’s telling the truth. But you know he isn’t. You know Percy.

You only nod, slowly, watching him nervously look away.

“You look…” he trails.

“Like a sack’a bones?” You laugh through your nose. When Percy goes to protest you simply shake your head. “It’s not a lie, Percy. I was worried sick. Literally. I didn’t want to believe you were dead.”

Your honesty sends him awkward. Percy’s cheeks flush red, and he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I’m sorry.” He might be awkward, but he’s honest.

You face forwards, Percy sitting next to you. The bed drips.

“I had the strangest dreams out there.”

“Oh yeah?”

He chuckles quietly. “Yeah. Um—you went missing, and I couldn’t find you at all. It was like you’d been wiped off the earth, or, more like you never even existed. Nobody remembered you. You came home in the end, took a while though. We travelled half the country to find you. More of a nightmare, really…” his words make you feel uneasy.

“Maybe your brain was just reflecting real life. To be thrown on some unknown island alone for weeks like that?” Something peeks out of the pocket in Percy’s shirt. “…had to…mess with your head. What’s that?” You nod to the little sprig.

Percy’s eyes turn to saucers. He coughs, recovering quickly, and raises shaky fingers to pull the tiny plant from the pocket. Its roots are skinny and frail, but the flower they lead to is bright white. The petals are perfectly rounded, five total. They’re dotted with almost see-through circles.

“It’s beautiful,” you reach out to brush your finger on one of its petals. It almost looks like it’s glowing, but with the light from Percy’s nightshade it’s hard to tell. “You found it on the island?”

He swallows hard. “Yeah.” And says no more.

You sit until late into the night and early morning watching the flower glow gently. You see the sky begin to turn orange, signally dawn is coming, and finally retreat to your own cabin for some sleep. For once in what feels like forever, you feel nothing but comfort, slipping under the covers as your cabin turns a warm shade of orange and yellow as the sun comes up, quiet and basking in the knowledge that everyone is, finally, safe.

It’s late afternoon when someone wakes you up. Apparently it was a unanimous decision to leave you alone until time got on. By the time you’re up, dressed and ready for the day to head over to Sally Jackson’s home in Manhattan, it’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon. You eat a steady supply of toast and jam, down a cup of apple juice, and take a bottle of water in your bag for the ride.

Chiron waits for Percy and yourself by the camp border. He doesn’t look particularly pleased that you’re both leaving, but you don’t care. There isn’t much to be done about your current situation, so you carry on.

You feel rejuvenated today, almost bouncing in place, waiting for Percy to finish packing his bag on the grass. Is it the good sleep? Or the weight off your shoulders now Percy is home and breathing?

“No detours,” Chiron instructs, pointedly looking at you. You hold up your hands in surrender. “No wandering. I’d like this to be a straightforward journey, today. Too many things have been going wrong; this trip has to be straightforward.”

“That’s us told,” You pipe up, tilting your head.

Percy elbows your leg.

Chiron only smiles, tensely. You get the feeling there’s something they’re not telling you, but let it drop, for now.

Percy’s mom is absolutely ecstatic to see her son again, for obvious reasons. Her cheeks drench with tears as she holds him to her, rocking side to side in place at the front door. As much as Percy will try and hide it, you know his teary look is legit, and not the result of some dust in his eyes. Sally lets him go and steps out of the way, letting you into the apartment. She doesn’t miss you, though you’re not anticipating her considering you as well. She grabs you by the arm when you pass her, and just about suffocates you in her embrace. You’re not going to say no—it’s nice to just be held and loved by a mom. The older girls at camp are a godsend for trials and tribulations you might be facing, and they’re sisterly, but not motherly, so it isn’t quite the same. You could get high on the feeling of being loved on.

Sally Jackson smells like Elizabeth Arden’s green tea perfume, and a mix of something sweet, and laundry powder. The apartment smells strongly of baking, and when you round the hallway to the living room adjoining the kitchen, you see plates upon plates of cookies and cakes.

“Damn, Sally,” you breathe. “You’ve been busy.”

“Mom!” Percy complains. “What are you going to do with all of this!”

“You’re going to eat it!” She instructs with a laugh, wiping her eyes and briskly walking past the two of you. She pushes you both to sit on the couch, and you do without complaint. Sally returns with a plate of chocolate chip, and raisin, cookies in one hand and a plate with two strawberry-frosted cupcakes in the other. She sets them down on the table, and then turns around with a quiet, ‘oh, forget it’ and leans around to squeeze you both into a bear hug. Percy’s cheek presses against yours, boiling hot to the touch, embarrassed. You simply melt against Sally and return her hug, going as far as throwing one arm around her and one around her son.

“I told them you’d be alright,” she muffles into her son’s hair.

“Here I am,” he drones, bored-sounding. You know for a fact it’s all pretend; Percy’s a mom’s boy.

“Tell me everything,” she demands, pulling back. “I want to know every little detail.”

You let Percy tell her what’s happened, having your input only when he forgets certain things, like him tripping over a crack in the tunnels, or nearly falling down a mine shaft that opened up out of nowhere. You had caught him only by the strap of his backpack, before it broke off in your hand.

Sally takes a deep breath in when you’re finished with the stories. She slaps a hand on her knee, blinking. “Well, now I know how the Alcatraz incident happened. But at least you’re safe.”

Percy coughs awkwardly. “Yep! That pretty much covers the whole…thing.”

“I wish Paul were here right now. He wanted to talk to you, Percy, about what happened at the school. He wants to get things straight again.”

“What did you tell him?”

You settle back into the couch with a frosted cupcake, accepting that you have no place in this conversation. You busy yourself with the magazine lying discarded where Sally must have sat before you rang the doorbell. It’s open on pages eleven and twelve: THIS YEAR’S HOTTEST ACTORS. That, you can get with.

“What could I say?” Reasons Sally. “He knows there’s something different about you. But he fully believes you’re a good person. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s willing to try to understand. He has to give the school a reason though—he’s the one who got you admitted there. It’s a little bit difficult, because you ran away after the fire broke out.”

Percy exhales heavily. “I’ll tell him properly after we’ve finished this quest. I want him to know.” Percy, willing to open up to somebody after the horror that was living with Gabe.

“You’d do that?” Says Sally.

Percy shrugs. “Well, yeah, but he’ll think we’re crazy.”

“He thinks that already,” she chuckles.

“Then we have nothing to lose!”

“So, what happens now?”

Silence encases the room for a second or two.

“Percy has a plan,” you blurt, and shovel cupcake in your mouth.

“I’m thinking, if we go off of the old myths and legends, we could use a mortal who has the Sight to help us. I know this girl who was at the school induction day, she might be willing to give us a hand.”

Sally nodded slowly. “It might work. You need her to find a path or something?”

Percy hums. “Exactly that.”

“I think it’ll work. Just be careful, all of you. I know you think you’re invincible—”

Percy groans. “Mom!”

“You think you’re invincible!” She repeats louder. “But you’re only nearly sixteen! You’re still babies, alright? Now, go use the phone in the hall. You’ll be fine for a few minutes.”

Percy went out to use the phone, while Sally launched you into another hug, and then demanded you put your feet up for five minutes and watch the television. The Ellen Degeneres show is playing, and you let yourself get comfortable, listening to Sally humming in the kitchen and Percy’s mumbling on the phone. He enters the room and looks your way straight away.

“Half an hour,” he says, “Rachel’s meeting us in Times Square.”

Sally said goodbye at the door with a thick voice and tears in her eyes, and made the two of you promise to drop by on the weekend. You wished you could swear that yes, you would absolutely come around for more cakes and iced coffee, but unfortunately, the world hated you and all you stood for, even though you were barely sixteen and troubled to hell. Percy’s face shone with not just health but pure happiness from being around his mom; by the time you walked into Times Square, that facial expression turned weary.

“Where are we meeting her?”

You didn’t have to wonder for long. Seconds later, Percy pulled you to stop in front of a living statue group, each member showing in shades of gold, green or silver from head to toe. At first you struggled to understand why on earth Percy thought this display would be cool to look at, and then you realised the display was Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

You roll your eyes so hard it hurts. “What. A. Loser.”

“Hey!” Hissed Percy, genuinely upset. “Could you stop it! For five minutes?” He snaps.

You blink, stunned. Percy doesn’t get angry at you, like, ever. Have you really been that irritating that he’s snapped at last? You’re annoyed at life recently, struggling like hell to understand if it’s because of hormones, the quest, or your situation. Or all three factors combined. Most likely, that is it. But how do you explain that to Percy, who is not just your best friend suddenly pissed off at you, but he’s a boy, and he’ll never understand that you don’t want Rachel’s help not just because this is your quest, but the fact that it’s Rachel, and you know from a girl’s point of view, how she feels about Percy. You can just tell. And just maybe you’re jealous.

Still, mulling over this, you get even more annoyed at Percy trying to save Rachel’s feelings. A kid walked up from the taxi stand, tucking away half a sandwich in foil into a bag beside the stand the kids stood on together. When he got into position, Rachel dropped hers with a smile so creepy when it was covered in gold.

“Hey, Percy!” She grinned, completely ignoring you. She climbed down from the stand, and swiped her own bag from behind a sign, pulling the straps over her shoulders to go. Was it your comment? She accidentally-on-purpose pushed you aside, linking her arm with Percy’s. Definitely your comment. “Great timing. Let’s get coffee.”

You followed behind the pair on the path among throngs of tourists and people trying to get to work. Since it was Saturday, the place was absolutely buzzing, and if you actually cared about being hit by a car, you’d have been more mindful of the state of the roads. You stop outside a coffee shop labelled JAVA MOOSE, the interior decorated with a large stuffed moose head on the wall above a couple of round tables and tub chairs, with light wood and orange-yellow light fixtures hanging over the tables.

Rachel takes a seat heavily in one of the tub chairs. You follow suite. Nobody seems to care or spare a second look at the girl coloured gold, or that she’s staining the seats with her paint. A barista behind the counter laughs loudly at something a customer points out. You sit opposite Rachel, Percy falling in next to you.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about my art project,” says Rachel. “So, you’re a half-blood too? Like Percy?”

“Announce it to the world, why don’t you?”

Rachel shrugged. “Okay.” She stood up, then, on top of the chair and everything, and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey! Everybody! These two aren’t even human! They’re half Greek god! And they’re sitting waiting for monsters!”

You cringe. “Well, when you put it like that…but sit down, seriously. You can’t just shout things like that.”

“But why not?” Rachel blinks innocently. “It’s New York. Nobody cares.”

“Can we all get along for a few minutes?” Asks Percy, throwing in a placating hand over the table. “Please? Look, Rachel, it’s the same as I told you before on the phone. We need your help navigating the maze. The last few times haven’t gone so great. Which is why we’re here. Asking you for help. You have this thing called Sight, only certain mortals have it and it pretty much enables you to see parts of our world that you wouldn’t without it.”

“You want me to help you get through some maze that I’ve never been down.”

“Yes. You can see through the Mist, like the mortal Ariadne in the old tales. The Labyrinth won’t confuse you as much as it’s been confusing us.”

Rachel took in a deep breath. “And if you’re wrong about this?”

“We’ll be lost. Either way it’s dangerous so it evens out.”

“I could die. That’s what you’re telling me. Dead, dead and deader.”

“I thought you said monsters don’t care about mortals?” She probed. It makes you wonder how much Percy has already told her about your world. “Your sword…”

“Celestial bronze doesn’t harm mortals! And monsters would mostly ignore you. At most they’ll get a hint that you’re a little different but not entirely. You’ll blend in.”

Rachel looked between the two of you, but mostly Percy. “Alright. I’m in.”

“First thing,” Percy winced. “We need your help finding an entrance into the maze. There’s one in camp but it’s off limits to mortals. You wouldn’t even be able to cross the border.”

“What does this entrance look like?”

“Could be anything at all. A boulder. A run-down storefront. Some wall,” you chip in. “It’d have the mark of Daedalus on it. The Greek L. Delta.”

For once, there seemed to be a shared understanding between everyone at the table. Rachel dipped her finger in a puddle of water at the edge of the table and drew the Delta sign out.

“Like this?”

“Like that. You know Greek?”

She hummed as if you’d said something really funny. “Lol. No. Just follow me to the Marriott Hotel. I’ve got to show you something I think you’ll really like.”

“And that is?”

“I think there’s an entrance to the Labyrinth in the basement.”

wowcher, I was gone a while. any thoughts on our characters this chapter?

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