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where-is-the-angst · 2 months ago

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Puke: Left to Wither Alone

Hi!

So as per popular demand (literally no one asked) I'm going to upload my infamous Percy x Luke fanfiction!

It's set at the end of 'The Last Olympian' so spoilers ahead if you haven't read it.

PLEASE don't comment on the book accurate-ness, okay? I know the 'plot' is really goofy- but it need *conflict* yk?

tbh, it's not really Puke because yk how Luke dies at the end of the Last Olympian? Yeah, that still happens and then the story does a 180 and goes full Gercy (Grover x Percy).

I'm so sorry in advance for what you are about to witness.

(it's like 7,000 words help)

HAPPY READING!

TW: Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Violence <33

Percy: Preface

[This takes place during The Last Olympian when Luke has awoken Kronos; him being basically possessed by Kronos at random intervals. Annabeth throws him her dagger because the only way for Kronos to be stopped is for him to stab his achilles heel (his arm). Luke finished his ‘villain monologue’ :-)]

Luke seemed to know what I was thinking. He moistened his lips. “You can’t…. Can’t do it yourself. He’ll break my control. He’ll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can… can keep him controlled.”

“I–” He started. “I- don't understand.”

“Percy.. You must know that it was all for you.” Luke replied, an affectionate lilt in his voice. “Everything. All of it. The system is flawed. And I thought…”

Percy was shocked beyond words. Beyond belief. Tentatively, he said, “Thought what?”

The marble floor shook beneath them as Luke grasped the knife Annabeth tossed him just moments before. Realizing what he was about to do, Percy yelled “Luke! Stop! Don’t kill yourself over this!”

“It’s too late Percy. I’ve made my choice, I just want to let you know that I- I really like you Percy. I’m happy I got to know you.” And with that, he stabbed himself in the arm, his achilles heel.

Percy shrieked in pure agony. Concerned, Annabeth darted toward him, only for him to push her away. He had laser focus on the only thing that mattered. Dropping down to the ground, wincing at the pressure on his fresh wounds. Percy kneeled beside Luke, who was now barely conscious.

Blood pooling around them, Percy sighed, “Luke. It’s ok, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” Tears were beginning to well in his eyes. “Luke. Don’t—” His voice broke, “Don’t leave. Don’t leave me.”

“Percy…” Luke’s weak voice started, “It’s- It’s ok. Don’t cry. Just know, I-I will always love you.”

Somewhat startled but without hesitation Percy said, “I love you too, Luke. Always will.”

Tears blurred Percy’s vision, and it didn’t take much for him to know that Luke’s were as well. Grasping Luke’s head close to his chest Percy whispered “Goodbye, Luke. See you in Elysium.” He knew it was too late. There was nothing he could do. Luke had made the ultimate sacrifice, and Percy could do nothing to stop his slowing heartbeat.

Luke took one last ragged breath as the shaky beat of his heart became unnoticeable and began, “I–”.

That was all it took for Percy to completely break. Earth-shattering sobs racked his body. All that was. All that could’ve been. All that wasn’t. It was too much for him to bear. He didn’t even know he was gay! His heart, his purpose, and his will to live were all lost in that one moment. If he could go back just a few days, just a few minutes. Everything that didn’t make sense, all his confusion over Annabeth was settled the moment Luke’s blue eyes settled on him.

And so with that, Percy detangled himself. Looking nowhere but forward, he stood and continued his now meaningless existence.

Percy

“Percy!” A faint voice called. “Percy!”

“Wh-?” He fumbled, eyes blurry, vision not quite focused.

“Percy!”

He felt like he was walking through maple syrup. Percy’s eyes felt heavy, his limbs being dragged down under their own weight.

“Percy! Help!” The voice grew in desperation, beginning to hysterically shriek, “Help! Help!”

Unable to get bearings on his surroundings, Percy flailed his limbs slightly and began to fight the weight on his eyelids.

“Help! Help! Help!

When he finally opened his eyes Percy saw….

Nothing.

Pure, empty, desolate darkness.

Beneath the desperate chorus, there was a new, deep, voice.

He closed his eyes, once again giving into the part of him that was just so… so tired. Maybe he should take a nap. He tried to give in, give into the darkness. He let himself relax. You don’t want to fight it, it told him.

“It’s all your fault.”

The voice took a new form. The darkness taking a shape. He could no longer tell whether or not his eyes were actually open. The darkness took on a new color. A neon orange T-shirt.

“You could have saved him.”

Surfer-blonde hair.

“Do you even care that he’s gone?”

A brilliant, beautiful cerulean blue.

Why didn’t you try harder?”

A celestial bronze blade. Twisting. Turning. Cutting.

He flinched.

“Why didn’t you take the dagger from him?”

An almost squishy, slick noise.

A gut-wrenching shriek.

“Help! Percy! Help!”

“You were too late.”

“Did you even try to save him?”

All the fight left his body.

Agony ripped through him. Mercilessly ripping its way up his torso, arms and neck, leaving nothing untouched. It soon took a new twist, his whole body burning alive. Throbbing, throbbing, shredding.

“You’ll never be able to save him.”

Knives sliced through his skull. Tearing, tearing, ripping. His legs shook, his arms spasmed, his body writhing.

A puddle. Why was he so wet?

Was it raining?

A hysterical giggle left his mouth.

Something stabbed his arm.

Cutting, slicing, slashing. A cold sensation passed over him, a brief respite from all the…

Pain. Excruciating pain.

Red… red… red….

Wh– where was it– who was it coming from?

“It’s all my fault.”

Annabeth

Annabeth jerked up from bed.

She rubbed her eyes, which were still blurry from sleep. Sitting up, she searched the shadowy cabin, cool morning air prickling down her arms and neck.

Something wasn’t right.

Getting out of bed, she swiftly dressed, looking anxiously at the clock. It ominously read ‘5:30’, the sky just beginning to lighten through the cabin’s thin curtains.

She put on a sweatshirt, shivering at the temperature difference. The hairs on her arms stood on end, her whole body feeling somewhat jerky. There was this feeling of imminent doom she couldn’t quite place. A feeling that something required her immediate attention.

She left the cabin, and for the first time wondered: where was she going to go?

Markedly confused, Annabeth resolved to reenter the cabin and work on some of her architectural designs. There was no clear course of action as to evade her nerves, and she was too wound up to go back to bed.

The morning passed without much more incident, and she bumped into Grover on the way to breakfast.

“Hi Grover! How are you doing?”

He began, reevaluated, and mumbled, “Uh- good.”

“You know, you can always tell me if something’s going on, Grover,” she tentatively said.

“Well.. um… this is going to sound really weird but,” he stopped and ran a hand through his curly hair. “I- I woke up and my whole left arm was throbbing with pain. Like, really bad pain. And at first I was thinking I probably banged it in my sleep or something, right? But then it got worse.”

“Does it still hurt?” She added, concern spotting her vision.

“That’s the weird thing. Every time it seems to get better, it throbs again with a new, sharp, stabbing pain. And I….” He trailed off.

No one knew what to say, and they walked in silence to the pavilion. Searching the campers faces, she noticed something. Or more accurately, she noticed the absence of something- the absence of someone.

“Grover.” Annabeth asserted, realizing with horror what might be happening. “The empathy link-” Her voice broke. “Percy.”

Grover’s eyes widened and glancing around the room, he croaked, “Percy isn’t- he isn’t here.”

Looking him in the eye, Annabeth knew what to do. She turned immediately, not waiting for anyone, and made a beeline for cabin three.

She all but knocked down the door in her impatient haste, Grover soon materializing behind her.

Together, they entered the cabin, and were frozen in shock at the scene in front of them.

Percy lay not fully on his bed, sheets on the floor. His unwashed hair was standing up in every direction, and he shifted slightly as they entered the small room. As Annabeth took in his appearance, she took a double take at his left arm, which was dripping in his own blood.

Percy pulled his forearm over his face, revealing a tapestry of red marks- red scars. He groaned, not quite acclimated to the morning light. Annabeth, realizing his discomfort, silently approached him. “Percy. Percy. Wake up.”

“Ughhhh.” He sat up, agonizingly slow.

Grover was the first to take the leap. “What is all this?”

Percy, seemingly just realizing the gravity of the situation at hand, glanced between Annabeth and Grover like a cornered animal. Never had Annabeth seen such pain in his wide green eyes, and she walked to sit beside him on the springy cot.

“You know Percy, it’s ok to be sad,” she sighed. “You can always talk to us if you need any help.”

“It’s- It’s okay- I- I’m okay.” Percy stuttered, his eyes glassy. “You really don’t need to worry about- about me.”

Grover sat beside them, the cot creaking beneath his weight. “Really, you can drop the facade, man. I mean, the Battle of Manhattan, we lost a lot of people. It’s not weak to cry, Percy.”

Percy looked down at his lap, and Annabeth put her arm around his shoulders, her own eyes growing tearful at the reminder. “We just need you to know that a lot of people care about you, Percy.”

Percy broke, his body racking in ugly sobs. Annabeth’s own vision blurry due to the silent tears beginning to stream down her face, thinking about the pain he was going through. She embraced him, Grover soon following suit, while Percy blubbered, voice breaking, “My- my- fault- he’s- he’s- gone- Lu-”

Annabeth and Grover rushed to comfort him, muttering that it wasn’t his fault, that it was ok, and that there were people who loved him regardless of his distress.

But nothing much could be done, Percy’s rationale appearing to dissolve into hysteria, voice rising as he sobbed, “He- he- loves-” He shifted, looking longingly at Riptide, which lay on the stained carpet at his feet. “He- he- loved me.”

Annabeth, shirt soiled with both Percy’s tears and her own, looked over at Grover, who was similarly disgruntled. She thought of Percy, who she cared for more than she cared to admit. She thought of the unspoken grief Percy had been hiding from her for so long. But most of all, it was Luke who centered in her unfinished thoughts. Luke is- had been, the one constant in her life. She had always thought it would always be them, ever since she was eight years old. That it would always be Luke and Annabeth, against the world.

But she couldn’t dwell upon her own pain. The thoughts of what if circling her head similarly to the way they did about Percy. Instead, she focused her energy on the person in front of her. The person who was grieving more than she would ever be able to see.

And so Annabeth, with Grover at her side, would always be there for him, one of her now oldest friends. She loved, she loved him. Annabeth would do anything to help him through this, whether it was as his friend, or as something she wouldn’t- couldn’t think about just yet.

Breakfast finished, the trio sitting faithfully together, speaking of nothing until they learned how to smile again. Grief cast shadows on their new dawn, and just as they were gearing up to begin their day, a knock sounded on the door.

Curious and extremely unprepared, Annabeth approached the door and softly opened it, only to be greeted by Chiron’s voice.

“Hi Annabeth! Can you get Percy- Is he in there? I need you all at the Big House. Something happened and… it’ll probably be best to explain when the whole group is there. Come quickly”.

He galloped swiftly away, not allowing Annabeth time enough to respond. And so, she clicked the door shut and faced the bemused boys, ready to face the next challenge.

Percy

When Percy, Annabeth and Grover entered the Big House, they didn’t know what to expect.

But they surely didn’t expect to find Nico, Chiron and Mr. D, crowded around the pool table, deep in conversation.

Confused, and not fully recovered from the emotional start to his day, Percy silently walked to stand beside Chiron. Annabeth and Grover, who insisted on coming, quickly followed suit.

“Hi Chiron! Why’d you call us here?” Annabeth swiftly cut to the chase.

Chiron, seemingly enthralled in their conversation, looked up with a start. “Oh good. You’re all here. So, Nico has some interesting news to share and wanted to talk to all of us, Nico?

Nico uncomfortably glanced around the small group and started, “Umm. So, I’ve been meaning to tell you all something. And, uh, can all of you promise not to freak out at least until I’m done explaining that something. Please.”

“Of course, Nico. You have our word.” Chiron’s eyes darted to look everyone in the eye, not allowing room to disagree.

There was an uncomfortable silence, and Nico broke it with an anticlimactic “Umm…” Which was soon followed with what seemed to burst from Nico, as if he would die if he went any longer without saying it. “Dersanoderalf-bloodcamp.”

A chorus of “What?” soon followed. Percy was particularly confused, what was ‘Dersanoderalf-bloodcamp’ supposed to mean? He looked to Grover for some clarification, but came up empty when greeted with his equally confused expression.

Nico sighed. “Thersanotheralf-bloodcamp.”

“What?”

“There. Is. Another. Half. Blood. Camp.”

This time, when Percy responded ‘What?’ it was for a different reason. Another half-blood camp? How was this possible?

“So I know you’re all supremely confused right now, but let me finish. Yes. There is another half-blood camp. It’s near San Francisco, and it’s called Camp Jupiter. It’s for Roman Demigods.”

“There are Roman Demigods?”

“How are they alive?”

“Why didn’t we know about this?”

“How do you know about it?”

“Who told you?”

“Why were you in San Francisco?” Percy had asked. Really getting at the hard hitting questions.

Nevertheless, Nico responded to the only softball, “My dad, you know, Hades, showed me. Introduced me as an ambassador of Pluto.” He paused. “Now, one at a time, what are your questions?”

“Why didn’t we know about this?” Chiron asked.

“After the Civil War, a battle that was majorly fought between Roman and Greek demigods by the way, the gods decided to split us up for good to avoid any future… conflict.” He stopped briefly, ”Ummmm… So before you guys assault me with questions again, I- I forgot to tell you guys something. Something important.”

Everyone waited with a charged silence before Nico continued, “Camp Jupiter, the other demigod camp, they- they’ve declared war on us.” He visibly swallowed, “On Camp Half-Blood.”

No one waited for Nico’s okay to speak this time, and everyone began to question and plan over one another, the rooms’ volume rising in a cacophony.

Chiron’s voice soon rose over everyone else’s, silencing the room. “How long do we have to prepare?” he said, his authoritative tone rising with each word.

“About a week, they- they didn’t specify exactly when.”

Chiron addressed the room, “Annabeth. Go back to Athena cabin and strategize where we should set up our ranks. Percy. Speak to the Head Councilors of Ares and Hephaestus, we need weapons and a battle plan. Grover. Tell the nymphs and prepare the forest for war.” He cast a meaningful gaze at each of them. “Don’t tell anyone who doesn’t have to know, we don’t want chaos. I’ll tell everyone at the bonfire tonight.”

There was a chorus of okays, and everyone set off on their various tasks, no one daring to argue with Chiron when he was so serious.

Percy was the first to split off from the group, feeling so, so emotionally drained from the days’ events. He walked around the side of the Big House, and took a deep breath. Why did the world hate him? It seemed like lately he could never catch a break. Why couldn’t he just be a normal teenager? He took a deep breath, eyes growing wet with the stress of the short day. He would have to make it through, his friends depended on it. And so he walked towards the cabins, fearful of the reactions the insane news would bring.

First stop, Hephaestus cabin. The vault-like door towered in front of him as he tentatively knocked.

Nothing happened.

Just as he was about to knock again, his fist hovering just above the cool metal, he heard gears beginning to creak with a quiet hum.

The door slid open, revealing the metal room, lined with neon LED’s. The room was lined with tables of nuts and bolts, with the beds mostly retracted into the walls, save for one.

Leo Valdez, one of the newer campers, approached him, remarking “Oh, hi Percy!” at his entrance.

“Hi Leo, is Beckendorf around? I need to talk to him.”

“uh,,, “ Leo looked down. “I think he’s working in the forges. I can always pass the message along if you want.”

“Okay, that works.” Percy said, realizing that they would all know eventually anyway.

“Percy, you good bro? You look kinda… stressed.”

There was an awkward pause as Percy struggled to formulate words. “Um.. yea, I guess. So I was just at the Big House and there’s something really important we need you all to work on.”

Leo straightened, nervously running a hand through his curly black hair.

With that, Percy recounted the meeting with Nico, leaving no details out. His voice cracked slightly as he finished, “So, we need you to help forge more weapons and security for- for the war.”

Leo looked so shocked he didn’t respond. His mouth just hung open as his gaze turned serious. “Thanks for- thanks for telling us Percy.” He swallowed, “I’ll tell Beckendorf and the others right away.”

With that, Percy turned to leave, and let Leo and the rest of the Hephaestus campers process the development.

He walked past the Apollo cabin, muttering ‘Ares’ as the angry red building came into view. Before he got within a five foot radius of the structure, a scruffy voice called from inside, “Stop where you are, Percy Jackson!”

Sighing, he began to argue, “Chiron sent me to-” only to be cut off once again, “Do you want to be stabbed?” The door opened slightly, and Percy was greeted with the unsightly face of Clarisse La Rue, holding her spear and a half-finished water bottle. “Go away Percy!”

“Clarisse, please, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”

“I don’t care!” She approached him, spear raised.

“Chiron sent me! He needs me to tell you something!”

“Then why won’t he tell me himself!?!” She pointed the spearhead directly at his throat.

“This is life or death! Please- just let me explain.” He said, Clarisse closing in on him.

“You earned this.” She stepped closer, the two now only about two feet apart.

Sensing it useless to reason with her, he burst, “We’regoingtowar!”

“What?” She froze.

“You heard me. There’s another demigod camp. One for Roman demigods. They’ve declared war on us. We need your cabin to begin planning battle strategy with Athena.” Percy rushed, afraid she wouldn’t let him finish.

Clarisse paused, a mean glint in her eye, pulled her hair out of her face and……

A fist collided with Percy’s face.

And another.

“You think this is funny?!?! You think it’s okay to lie to me?!?!” She screeched, beginning to draw the attention of other campers.

Percy felt a tug in his gut. The water! He dragged and compressed the water, pulling it just above her head. Then, just when she gave his battered body a moment to feel the sting, he released, the pressure of the water exploding on her head.

“You fucking mermaid!” She yelled, reaching up to feel her head, which was most definitely burning from the pressure.

Clarisse continued yelling, blood rushing to her face, “You are so dead Jackson!” She held her head, not quite recovered from the impact, but mad enough to attempt to approach Percy once more.

Percy ran.

“You better watch your fucking back Jackson!!” She continued.

Percy turned to look at her. Clarisse was holding up her middle finger, fuming, but unable to follow him due to the pain in her skull.

Percy wasted no time, eagerly retreating to Poseidon cabin before she was able to recover.

Annabeth

That night, when all were gathered by the campfire, Annabeth waited impatiently for Chiron to begin his speech.

She sat beside Percy, Grover on his left, the wooden bench slightly uncomfortable. Looking around, she realized curiously that both Ares and Hephaestus cabin were almost completely missing from the boisterous crowd.

“Campers!” Chiron’s booming voice cast around the crowd as all chatter was silenced.

“As some of you already know, something important has happened.” He took a deep breath, the camp deathly silent. “Nico has come bearing news. There is another demigod camp-”

The camp took a collective gasp, some of the newer campers’ eyes quarter wide.

“Another demigod camp. One for Roman Demigods. And they’ve- they’ve, declared war on us. We have less than a week to prepare. Head councilors, make preparations for your cabins. We have no time to worry!”

Annabeth studied the faces of her peers, the Aphrodite girls were crying, hysterically throwing their heads back. The Apollo campers were staring at one another in terror, appearing to speak in hushed tones about the preparations to be had.

One by one, everyone began to speak to those around them in disbelief and fear.

The volume rose, the group beginning to lean collectively toward hysteria when all of a sudden….

BOOM!!

Annabeth’s head snapped toward the sound, and saw a giant chasm cut in the side of the Big House, a fire beginning to brew.

With a sinking feeling in her gut, Annabeth realized it was too late.

“Everybody!! They’ve come!! WAR!” She screamed with all of the strength she could muster. The camp was already in shambles, and there was no doubt in her mind that little had heard her desperate screech.

As Annabeth ran towards her cabin to get her dagger, she heard several screams. The camp was in complete chaos, no doubt in anyone’s mind that they were doomed.

In the distance through the clean, pearl-white moonlight, she saw rows of silhouettes stomping evenly, each deafening step bringing another wave of dread and panic over Annabeth.

She sprinted to her cabin, and got her Yankees cap, along with her trustworthy knife, clipping it onto her belt. Even through the chaos and the pure terror in the air, that soft click gave her a sort of small comfort. Similar to the way a ray of sunshine would on a gloomy day.

As she ran out, she saw several of the Apollo campers already shooting arrows into the sky, trying themselves to arrange into those immaculate rows that they were being challenged with. While Annabeth saw each face scrunched up with determination and resolution to come up to and defeat this sudden challenge, she could see each eye widened in fright.

Annabeth had never felt so terrible in her life. If only Chiron had announced this earlier! If only that stupid Clarisse would have brains and accept this sooner! If only that conversation hadn’t lasted so long and they would’ve been able to inform everybody of this upcoming calamity! If only….

Annabeth shook herself. Filling her mind with more if onlys wouldn’t do any good. She should be out on the field, defending her fellow campmates. She ran towards the scrambled rows as the Camp Jupiter army advanced yet closer, with another cannon appearing to gear up to shoot towards Camp Half-Blood.

As the thumping of the boots was coming uncomfortably close, the army seemed to slow.

They surrounded Camp Half-Blood’s miscellaneous array, making a huge, neat circle around Half Blood Hill, their thick, sturdy armor clanking as loud as twenty elephants trumpeting.

They cornered Camp Half-Blood as a drooling tiger would do to a fragile deer.

And then… everything stopped.

The roman ranks appeared to halt completely, the silence deafening. No one dared to move, waiting in suspense for what was to come.

Before they had time to react, there was a uniform tap, and then….

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Arrows were flying at least 50 at a time, each shot with pure aim and concentration. How could a thing like concentration exist in such a thick atmosphere? Sounds of terrorized children and the screams of painful agony rang out, as people got hit with ruthless arrows.

Annabeth unsheathed her sword in a swift motion, running towards the soldiers who were now closing in on them. Individual ranks were now breaking from the whole, closing in on groups of campers.

As she passed Chiron, she yelled, “Are you okay? How can I help?”, desperately hoping her voice was strong and full of courage, rather than the panicky voice her heart was shooting at her.

“All good!” Chiron yelled back. “Keep our people safe, Annabeth! And…”, he hesitated, thrusting his opponent backward, slamming him onto the ground.

“What?” Annabeth yelled, stopping for a moment.

“You’re a great person, you know that?” Chiron shot a wistful but appreciative smile at Annabeth, and that smile is what actually made her break down completely. But as she opened her mouth to respond, the guy on the ground stood and sliced Chiron’s long torso.

“Chiron!” Annabeth screamed, her squeal lost in the hundreds of thundering voices, as blood started seeping down Chiron onto the grass. With little hesitation, he kicked up his hooves, knocking his attacker down again.

That’s the way to do it, Annabeth thought, satisfied. However, as she turned away, she couldn’t help admiring the guy’s quick military skill in swordplay. And his face wasn’t too ugly, either. Quite handsome, to be honest. And his blond locks were mesmerizing, his eyes were that perfect shade of electric blue, so attractive and enchanting, and his….

Girl, you gotta get yourself together, we’re in a war here! she scolded herself. She dived down to swipe a sword out of the handsome guy’s hands and threw him off his feet.

Chiron fell to the ground, groaning loudly while clutching his knee. Annabeth saw blood gushing down his foot, and that sprouted a fire inside her. However handsome this opponent was, he needed to be defeated soon, because she was not going to tolerate anybody who tried to kill Chiron. The guy quickly jumped back up and Annabeth pushed Chiron behind her back and started to swish and swipe their opponent, Chiron unable to help.

However, the next thing Annabeth saw nearly knocked the wind out of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grover running towards the side to gather the younger campers into Hermes cabin…...

“NOOOO!!!” A feral shriek rang out as water rushed at her feet, pieces of shrapnel flying everywhere, narrowly missing her calf.

Nothing, nothing in the whole arena was as frightening as that scream right there. That scream was full of the most pain and desperation and hopelessness Annabeth had ever heard in her life.

“Percy,” she breathed, and kicked her opponent to the ground, sprinting to him. Her feet squished in the now muddy grass.

Before long, she was beside him. Percy was clutching an unconscious Grover’s bloody hand, another deep cut by his ribs.

“Not-” His whole body appeared to be shaking, eyes wide and glassy, “Not- again-”

“Hey, Percy.” Annabeth said. “It’s- it’s not like last time.” She paused, looking around at the battle raging around them. “We have to get him to safety.”

Gently, she peeled Percy’s vise-like grip off Grover and looked around in fear for an able-bodied camper. “Chiron! Chiron! Over here!”

His head snapped toward them and immediately galloped over, lifting Grover onto his hide.

“Annabeth! Get Percy out of here!”

She regarded Percy cautiously. Annabeth couldn't imagine what he might be going through, especially after Luke. Nevertheless, they had no time to spare, so she jerked him off the ground and practically dragged him to Apollo cabin.

Setting him down beside Grover to recover, she ran back out towards the raging battlefield.

Something slashed at her arm. A sword. The handsome guy glared at her and lifted his sword, only to be stopped by her dagger.

They regarded each other with a charged pause.

He lifted his sword again, and in a razor-sharp movement sliced….

She matched him. Her dagger lifted against his gleaming sword.

He grunted in amusement, and they continued their dance. Every move he pulled against her, she carefully blocked with her dagger. Every stab of her dagger was carefully shoved aside by his swift swordplay.

After a few moments of this, Annabeth remarked, “So are you gonna kill me… or what?”

“You know, you’re making my job really hard.”

“With pleasure.”

He sliced at her ribs this time, her dagger twisting to match him.

“You know, it’s not really fair that you have a sword while I only have a dagger.”

“What? You want to switch weapons.”

“No.”

She stabbed at his neck, his long sword making it difficult to block her, forcing him to step back and throw his sword out.

“So you want to die?”

“No, I just want to prove I’m better than you.”

Off in the distance, a faint voice began to yell, “Jason! Over here!”

The handsome guy, Jason, looked up and ran off, focused on the more important something happening down the battlefield.

Annabeth, with nothing more to do, worry seeping in, needed to check on Percy.

Percy

It’s all your fault.

Percy sat beside Grover’s cot in Apollo cabin. He was going to be fine, according to every single medic. He was going to be fine. He was going to be fine.

He almost died because of you.

Percy shoved that thought away as quickly as he could, but it persisted.

Do you even care?

He. Was. Going. To. Be. Okay. Percy argued.

You’re a terrible person.

He looked at the freshly bandaged gash at Grover’s ribs, the one that almost cost him his life.

But that wasn’t the cut he feared. On Grover’s forearm sat another wrap of gauze, obstructing Percy’s view from the thing that tormented his dreams.

Just like what happened to Luke.

He couldn’t help but think that there was something wrong with him. Why else would everyone he loved be taken away? Was there anything allowed to be good in his life?

The door creaked open to reveal Annabeth, clothes soiled from battle. She quickly appraised him and turned to Grover, before saying, “You know Percy, he’s going to be fine.”

“It’s all my fault”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Why would it be your fault?”

“Because-” his voice broke, tears welling in his eyes. “Because- I did it.”

He could remember it with perfect clarity. The way Clarisse kept taunting him. The way the army cornered them. How she made his stupid temper rise. The way she had said….

“You need any help there, Asswipe?” Clarisse said.

“Not a chance Clarisse! I can handle them myself,” he remarked as he took down another soldier.

“I bet you can’t take them all down!!” She taunted, sauntering over to him while he struggled to fend their attackers off.

We’ll see about that, Percy had thought. With no time to reply to her, he did the only thing he could do, and exploded the water pipes beneath them.

Water exploded, shrapnel flying everywhere around Percy.

A feeling of pride burst in Percy’s chest as he saw the destruction he had caused. An entire rank of the attacking Romans was on the ground, bloody from the shrapnel that had erupted from the pipes.

Looking around, he searched for Clarisse’s ugly face. Instead, he saw Grover’s, on the ground, a deep cut in his arm and chest, barely conscious, looking like- looking exactly like….

And then he wasn’t there anymore. He wasn’t at Camp Half-Blood. Cold marble floor pressed against his wounds.

A cut. An arm. But this- this wasn’t Grover. Was- was it?

He looked down.

Blood. Blood. On- on his hands.

Who’s was it?

He couldn’t save him.

Who couldn’t he save?

It’s all his fault.

All his fault.

All his-

Fault.

Pain. So acute it might’ve been his own.

Who’s- who’s was it?

His vision blurred. Was he seeing sandy blonde waves, or brown curls?

Goat hooves or a long scar through his eye?

Not like last time.

Last time.

Not again.

Not-

Again.

No-

Agai-

No-

A-

No.

Someone shook him.

“Anna- Annabeth?”

“Percy,” She started. “Percy, are you okay?”

He blinked. Apollo cabin. Grover. He. Was. Okay. Everything was going to be fine.

“Uh- um- yea.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

He looked over at Grover. He. Was Fine.

Will, one of the Apollo campers, approached them and checked Grover. He said, “Grover should be waking shortly, his wounds are healing really well!” and sped away, onto the next of many injured campers.

Annabeth spoke to him over the next hour or so, Percy too drained to respond.

“Percy, you have to trust me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s okay.”

“He will be fine. He is fine.”

“Percy, I think- I think he’s waking up!”

That got his attention, and Percy scooted closer to the cot as Grover let out an exasperated, “Ughhhhhh”.

“Grover-” Percy gasped, voice cracking with emotion, “I- I’m so sorry.”

Grover opened his eyes slightly, squinting against the light, “It’s… It’s okay.”

“No, it's not. I shouldn't have done that.” Percy paused, unable to continue. Tears were streaming down his cheeks once more, “Shouldn’t have let my stupid ego take hold of me. If I wasn’t such an absolute idiot you’d be fine. I should-”

Grover cut him off, his weak voice demanding Percy’s full attention. “You couldn’t have-” He took a deep breath, pain in his voice, “Couldn’t have known.” He appeared to attempt to shift his body to an upright position, wincing at the new pressure. Percy rushed to help him up, careful to avoid his wounds.

The pain and weakness in his voice sent shockwaves through Percy’s body, his guilt reaching new heights. “But I should have…” Percy said, helping brush Grover’s hair out of his face, “Should have known.”

Annabeth placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “But you couldn’t have known. It’s. Not. Your. Fault. Percy.” She punctuated every word with a palpable tension in her voice, concern etched across her features.

Percy studied Grover’s face, searching for signs of discomfort that would aid the pessimism he felt. Much to both his dismay and affirmation, Grover appeared to be mostly okay, painfully sighing every couple minutes.

Grover started, “Percy, you really can’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”

“But- but it is.” His guilt was taking shape, a force his small sense of self-preservation could not compete with. “It’s-”

Grover reached up to comfort Percy, but the strain in his eyes at the effort it took him to do so only fed the gnawing guilt.

It was eating away at him, paralyzing him in emotion. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could do, nothing he could do, nothing he could do. He was broken. He hurt everyone he loved.

He couldn’t think of his own name without drawing a feeling of disgust.

Grover said something, but Percy didn’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. The blood. So much blood. Over- over- over-

All over his- his- his- whose arm?

All his fault.

His fault.

He could have saved him.

Why didn’t he save him?

How many people would be hurt because of him?

How many- how many people would he force to suffer?

Percy.

His name. Disgust shot through him.

His name?

Wait. Where was that coming from?

Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy

“Percy.” Someone begged.

“Percy.” A smaller voice joined the chant.

Percy. Percy. Percy. Percy

“It isn’t your fault.”

“This time or last time, it isn’t your fault.”

“No one blames you.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

He looked down at his hands.

They were shaking.

“Repeat after me,” the weak voice said. “It is not my fault.”

Percy grunted, and pessimistically replied, “It’s not my fault.”

“I’m okay.”

“I’m okay,” he mocked.

“It. Is. Not. My. Fault.”

He mumbled, “It is not my… my fault.”

“I have nothing to be sorry about.

“I have nothing to be- I have- I’m so sorry, Grover.”

“No! Stop being sorry! That’s the problem! You. Have. Nothing To. Be. Sorry. About.”

“Sure. Like I didn’t just almost kill you!”

“Percy, it’s really okay. You can’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Yes I can.”

“No you can’t.”

“Yes I-”

“Do you hear yourself, Percy?” He rasped. “You have to let it go. It’s good. I’m good. You’re good.”

“It’s just- you were- and he- Luke-” He sobbed, voice breaking.

“Percy, Percy, we love you, we care about you, and we’re not going anywhere.” Grover asserted, giving Percy his most serious expression.

And that’s when he broke. Ugly sobs racked his body, limbs heavy and light at the same time. Annabeth pulled him in, Grover unable to offer assistance in his bed-ridden state.

“He looked- you looked- just like-” Percy hiccuped, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Tears obstructed his view, and he gasped, “just like- like- like- Luke”.

There was nothing Annabeth or Grover could do to comfort him, and Percy knew it. Percy continued, “I- I- I’m so- so sorry.”

And so Percy sobbed into his friends on a chair in Apollo cabin, oblivious to the commotion around him. There was only one thought that gave him closure. One thing that kept him sane.

Another explosion sounded in the distance, the ground shaking slightly. Two more injured campers were brought into Apollo cabin. Percy’s head jerked up at the comotion, but couldn’t bear any more noise over the cacophony in his head.

He appreciatively looked up at Grover and Annabeth, who were equally focused on him, and he needed- he needed- he needed-

He needed help. He needed support. And he realized at once that Grover and Annabeth were giving him exactly that. He was just too oblivious to see it, all consumed in his own problems.

And so he finally let them in. Let them see him fall apart. Because through all his mistakes. Through all his issues. Even though he has been so, so, emotionally wrecked. Even though it couldn’t have been easy to deal with his constant breakdowns.

These people. The only constant he had. They- they still loved him.

And for that, he was thankful.

Percy

He had to tell him.

After a restless night, two cups of coffee, and a mild loss of his sanity, Percy had to tell him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. What Grover had said. It had repeated in his thoughts all night like a broken record.

“Percy, Percy, we love you, we care about you, and we’re not going anywhere.”

“-Percy, we love you.”

“-not going anywhere.”

“-we care about you.”

“-Percy, we love you.”

“-we love you.”

“-love you.”

Percy jerked up from bed, unable to silence his racing thoughts. Glancing up at the clock hanging adjacent to his bed, he read, 3:25am.

He hadn’t fallen asleep yet, and was beginning to come to the conclusion that he should just pull an all-nighter. There was no purpose to laying in bed, tormented by his thoughts.

He dressed swiftly, and walked purposefully into the darkness, only one location in mind.

The beach.

Percy needed to be near the water. Needed to feel the calm it provided him. But as he lay by the surf, sand coating his feet, the moon gleaming against the water, he just couldn’t stop thinking.

It wasn’t a secret that he felt similarly to Grover. He loved him too.

He loved him, just like he loved Annabeth.

As- as his best friend.

The word sent a shock of annoyance through him.

But- why?

Grover had always been Percy’s best friend. And he had always been Grover’s. But why did that feel so- so wrong.

It felt inadequate compared to all the trauma they went through together, he affectionately remarked. All the memories they’ve shared.

And he was Grover’s best friend.

Ugh.

Why did that feel so wrong? So inadequate? It felt like-

Like-

Like not enough.

What else- what else would they be though?

What if he became my-

We are just friends! He argued against his annoying initial thought. Grover isn’t even- Grover isn’t even gay.

But what if he was? His obnoxious mind continued. What if he did love you as more than just his best friend?

What if you started a-

A relationship.

Percy revealed in the obnoxiously pleasant thought. He was about to argue, but found himself rendered stunned in quiet revelation. His heart thumping wildly in his chest, he allowed himself to think.

A relationship with Grover.

“Wow” he murmured against the crashing of the waves.

That would-

That would be-

That would be kind of amazing.

Percy finally agreed with what his heart was trying to tell him all along. He loved Grover. No, he loved him.

And as the sun began to rise, Percy knew what he had to do.

Percy found Grover beside the strawberry fields, helping the nymphs tend to the crops with his panpipes. Brown curls splaying across his brow, an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt loosely hanging off his figure, Percy couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. With a contented sigh, Percy allowed himself to feel the feelings he hadn’t realized had been suppressed.

He had to tell him.

There was no way he could continue to be near Grover with his new-found discovery. No, he had to tell Grover, and if he was rejected, at least he would know that there never was a chance.

“Grover I-” Percy stuttered, “I need to talk to you.”

Grover looked up from his work, and gave him an easy smile. “What’s up?” he remarked, looking back down at the many strawberries at his feet.

“Uhm, can I tell you this-” Percy swallowed. This was the point of no return, “Alone.”

Grover’s head jerked up toward Percy, a concerned gleam in his eye. “Of course,” he said, before following Percy towards the surf.

Percy nervously led Grover to the beach, unthinking of anything but the proximity in which they walked. Grover’s hand seemed to be radiating heat, and Percy wanted nothing but to hold it. It felt as if there was a magnetic pull between them. An innate attraction.

He wondered if Grover felt it too.

With a start, Percy realized that the beach was fast approaching. The silence was becoming awkward, and he didn’t know what to say. What to do. All he knew were the feelings he held close to his heart. The hidden emotions he suppressed within himself for so long.

But he was also scared. He was so, so scared of being hurt. Especially after what had happened with- with Luke. It would be difficult, no, impossible, to completely move on. The only thing he knew for sure, was that whatever came next, he wanted Grover to be beside him.

And god, he wanted to hold his hand.

They were finally on the boardwalk, and realizing it was time, Percy began, “So there’s something I really need to tell you. I know this is going to sound really out-of-the-blue, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot and-” He cut off, needing air.

“I’ve been thinking- well, I’ve been thinking about us- our friendship. And about what you said.” Percy turned to face Grover, stopping their slow stroll. Grover’s deep chestnut eyes bore deep into Percy’s heart, and he momentarily forgot about everything. About his sadness. About his pain. About his nervousness. All that existed was Percy’s racing heartbeat and Grover staring back at him, at complete loss for words.

Percy quickly continued, wanting to say everything before Grover had a chance to respond, “I- I love you Grover,” his voice broke, “and I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Percy I-” Grover stuttered, eyes darting around Percy’s face.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to respond. I just need you to know.”

“No, Percy. I want to respond. I just-” Grover ran a hand through his hair, a tick Percy had never really taken into account. “I can’t believe-”

Grover let out an exasperated sigh, “I love you too, Percy.”

The brightest smile spread across Percy’s face, his first in months. Grover grinned back at him, laughing slightly before pulling him into a hug.

Percy loved him, and he wasn’t planning on ever letting go.

If you made it this far I'm so sorry for that cringe. SHOULD I KEEP WRITING? LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS

*put a bow on it* 🎀🎀

#gercy #pjo #pjo fandom #percy x luke #percy x grover #cringe #im sorry (no im not)

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