fic: Satis pro iam
Title: Satis pro iam
Rating: T
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers up to TLH. Also, if you don't like femslash, don't read.
Pairing: Percy/Annabeth/Rachel
Word Count: 762
Summary: My own post-TLH story, because nobody has taken advantage of the ample P/A/R material that Rsquared has given us.
Notes: Yes, I have finally succumbed to peer pressure and am joining the latin-title phenomena. Title means "Enough for now." Also, wrote this in about 45 minutes, so it will likely not be a masterpiece.
Disclaimer: If I owned the series, you would know it. Trust me.
It had been three months, now. Three months of knowing, and being unable to act. Three months of sitting in camp and planning, even when Percy was out there in that Roman camp, doing gods knew what. Three months of crying herself to sleep at all hours of the morning, after spending hours attempting to work, fruitlessly. They didn't have new information, so no matter what, none of her plans were better than her previous ones. It was endlessly frustrating, and usually her attempts ended with her throwing her laptop, which was indestructible thanks to the new and improved Hephaestus cabin, at the wall. Her siblings had learned to ignore her outbursts after Malcolm had tried to comfort her and wound up with a pencil thrown so accurately at his face that he'd only narrowly avoided an unwanted ear-piercing.
Rachel was a huge help, having installed a coffee maker in her cave and making routine trips to the city for energy drinks and coffee beans. Every few hours, she'd bring Annabeth coffee and share any news of importance, or when there was none (which was, infuriatingly, rather often), she'd tell Annabeth stories about Percy in the year after the Labyrinth, or she'd tell Annabeth about her own childhood. Annabeth was grateful for these interruptions, despite her claims that it distracted her from her work, because if all she did every day was focus on her inability to save Percy, her Percy, the same boy who'd gone through hell to save her and succeeded (the distinct difference between the two rescue missions), she was more than sure that she'd go crazy (well, crazier than she already was).
Frequently, Rachel would visit Annabeth at night, sneaking into her cabin not quite as stealthily as she liked to think (but Annabeth's siblings kept quiet, because really, would the wisest course of action be to prevent Annabeth from getting the sleep she so desperately needed?) and providing a shoulder for Annabeth to cry on, or to rant at, or just to hold onto as the crushing loneliness systematically ripped the ground from under her. And sometimes, when the loss of Percy, Percy who comforted her even as he went off to fight gigantic bloodthirsty monsters who could heal themselves and who was the first person to look past her money and see someone who was worth befriending, was too much for Rachel to deal with she'd even cry along with Annabeth. Those were the nights neither of them slept, clutching each other in a feeble attempt to replicate their missing third and kissing and cuddling and hitting and scratching and doing anything, anything at all, to take their minds off of the pain.
When they finally, finally, were able to go after Percy, no one questioned the insistence of both Rachel and Annabeth that they both be allowed to go; it was the only thing that made sense, after all.
And when they arrived at the Roman camp, only to find an arrogant, confident Percy-but-not-their-Percy, they refused to cry. They'd seen the spark of recognition followed by confusion in those green eyes they both loved so much. So on their second night in the camp Rachel pushed him against a tree, finding his refusal to hit a girl even as this not-Percy darkly amusing, as Annabeth kissed him breathless and weak-kneed. And while he was distracted, Annabeth made a decision that wasn't really a decision, not really, because it'd already been made a while ago, and while she wondered when that'd happened she did have more important things to do at the moment, so she dragged Rachel in front of Percy and moved into Rachel's previous position. Rachel wasn't wearing a confused expression either, looking like this had been the plan the entire time and kissing Percy until he went cross-eyed with a smug smirk. Poor Percy, Annabeth thought, as he looked so confused that she was reminded of his introduction to Camp Half-Blood. Of course, this reminded her of her current mission, and she regained her focus.
Annabeth and Rachel both released him, and he flopped down against the tree, his legs-turned-jelly unable to support him. Annabeth and Rachel both stared down at him, their eyes piercing his. Percy felt another stab of pain rip through his head, as had happened when he'd seen them both for the first time, and his gaze focused. He didn't remember everything, in fact he still remembered very little, but he recognized these two beyond the hazy familiarity of the others.
"Annabeth? Rachel?"
And that was enough for now.
Rating: T
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers up to TLH. Also, if you don't like femslash, don't read.
Pairing: Percy/Annabeth/Rachel
Word Count: 762
Summary: My own post-TLH story, because nobody has taken advantage of the ample P/A/R material that Rsquared has given us.
Notes: Yes, I have finally succumbed to peer pressure and am joining the latin-title phenomena. Title means "Enough for now." Also, wrote this in about 45 minutes, so it will likely not be a masterpiece.
Disclaimer: If I owned the series, you would know it. Trust me.
It had been three months, now. Three months of knowing, and being unable to act. Three months of sitting in camp and planning, even when Percy was out there in that Roman camp, doing gods knew what. Three months of crying herself to sleep at all hours of the morning, after spending hours attempting to work, fruitlessly. They didn't have new information, so no matter what, none of her plans were better than her previous ones. It was endlessly frustrating, and usually her attempts ended with her throwing her laptop, which was indestructible thanks to the new and improved Hephaestus cabin, at the wall. Her siblings had learned to ignore her outbursts after Malcolm had tried to comfort her and wound up with a pencil thrown so accurately at his face that he'd only narrowly avoided an unwanted ear-piercing.
Rachel was a huge help, having installed a coffee maker in her cave and making routine trips to the city for energy drinks and coffee beans. Every few hours, she'd bring Annabeth coffee and share any news of importance, or when there was none (which was, infuriatingly, rather often), she'd tell Annabeth stories about Percy in the year after the Labyrinth, or she'd tell Annabeth about her own childhood. Annabeth was grateful for these interruptions, despite her claims that it distracted her from her work, because if all she did every day was focus on her inability to save Percy, her Percy, the same boy who'd gone through hell to save her and succeeded (the distinct difference between the two rescue missions), she was more than sure that she'd go crazy (well, crazier than she already was).
Frequently, Rachel would visit Annabeth at night, sneaking into her cabin not quite as stealthily as she liked to think (but Annabeth's siblings kept quiet, because really, would the wisest course of action be to prevent Annabeth from getting the sleep she so desperately needed?) and providing a shoulder for Annabeth to cry on, or to rant at, or just to hold onto as the crushing loneliness systematically ripped the ground from under her. And sometimes, when the loss of Percy, Percy who comforted her even as he went off to fight gigantic bloodthirsty monsters who could heal themselves and who was the first person to look past her money and see someone who was worth befriending, was too much for Rachel to deal with she'd even cry along with Annabeth. Those were the nights neither of them slept, clutching each other in a feeble attempt to replicate their missing third and kissing and cuddling and hitting and scratching and doing anything, anything at all, to take their minds off of the pain.
When they finally, finally, were able to go after Percy, no one questioned the insistence of both Rachel and Annabeth that they both be allowed to go; it was the only thing that made sense, after all.
And when they arrived at the Roman camp, only to find an arrogant, confident Percy-but-not-their-Percy, they refused to cry. They'd seen the spark of recognition followed by confusion in those green eyes they both loved so much. So on their second night in the camp Rachel pushed him against a tree, finding his refusal to hit a girl even as this not-Percy darkly amusing, as Annabeth kissed him breathless and weak-kneed. And while he was distracted, Annabeth made a decision that wasn't really a decision, not really, because it'd already been made a while ago, and while she wondered when that'd happened she did have more important things to do at the moment, so she dragged Rachel in front of Percy and moved into Rachel's previous position. Rachel wasn't wearing a confused expression either, looking like this had been the plan the entire time and kissing Percy until he went cross-eyed with a smug smirk. Poor Percy, Annabeth thought, as he looked so confused that she was reminded of his introduction to Camp Half-Blood. Of course, this reminded her of her current mission, and she regained her focus.
Annabeth and Rachel both released him, and he flopped down against the tree, his legs-turned-jelly unable to support him. Annabeth and Rachel both stared down at him, their eyes piercing his. Percy felt another stab of pain rip through his head, as had happened when he'd seen them both for the first time, and his gaze focused. He didn't remember everything, in fact he still remembered very little, but he recognized these two beyond the hazy familiarity of the others.
"Annabeth? Rachel?"
And that was enough for now.