Forgive Me, First Love (3/?) | Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus | PG13
Title: Forgive Me, First Love (3/?)
Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus
Pairing: Jason/Annabeth, Percy/Annabeth, with a smattering of other pairings along the way
Rating: PG-13 (maybe a light R for gore)
Spoilers: For The Lost Hero.
Word Count: 6000 for this part.
Summary: Post TLH fic. CUE SPOILER WARNING RIGHT HERE. DO NOT READ ON IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE LOST HERO!
Camp Half-Blood is preparing for war, and that means that they'll need to join forces with the Roman demigods before setting off to Greece to bring Rachel Elizabeth Dare's Great Prophecy to fruition. Annabeth is getting restless with waiting, and a surprising figure is there to distract her: Jason Grace, son of Jupiter--figures she'd hold out for another hero. It won't be long until the Roman legion arrives at the gates of Camp Half-Blood, with Percy Jackson at their helm... when the two camps come together, the ties that bind will be tested and all hell will break loose, literally.
A/N: This story probably makes little sense without having read Part 1 and Part 2. The goal is to finish this fic before RR publishes Son of Poseidon in the fall--wish me luck! PS: If you're looking for a good soundtrack to listen to while reading this fic, I highly recommend any and all Adele, but especially her first CD 19. Basically it's all I listen to while writing Annabeth/Jason haha.
The ship has long since lost sight of Long Island, and cruising at what Percy tells her is sixty knots per hour, Annabeth can feel the wind whip past them as they hurtle across the Atlantic. Every so often, the wind dies down around her, giving her a small break respite from the tumultuous gusts that surround the boat; in those moments, Annabeth knows Jason is manipulating the winds for her, and she’ll give him a small smile or a pat on the back. She doesn’t really know how to handle herself around both Percy and Jason. Both boys give her looks that warm Annabeth’s heart and crush it simultaneously. She feels like the butt of some cruel joke, where her broken heart is the punch line and the gods are having some sort of riotous game of who-can-make-Annabeth’s-life-suck-more.
But with seven demigods on a boat with a dragon’s head attached to its hull that Leo occasionally feeds when he thinks no one is looking, monsters were bound to show up sooner or later. Annabeth had hoped, though, that the Sirens would come later, rather than sooner.
“Boys,” she growls, tying a drooling Derek to the mast. Piper groans as Jason attempts to resist her, reaching out toward the sharp-toothed sea creatures on the prow of the vessel.
“Gods damn it, Jason,” she says, putting as much power into her voice as she could manage, “would you hold still?” Even Annabeth doesn’t dare move a muscle for a moment, and she hadn’t caught the brunt of Piper’s words: Jason stops struggling immediately, and Piper binds him perfunctorily next to Derek. The Sirens cry out unhappily as half of their quarry is hefted out of their grasping claws.
Percy is less lucky. He’s about to plant a wet one on a particularly horrible looking Siren at the prow of the ship when Annabeth hurls him backward onto the deck of the ship. Unfortunately in the struggle, she manages to fall right on top of him, landing a knee right in the son of Poseidon’s side.
“My spleen,” Percy groans, though Annabeth knows that the curse of Achilles shouldn’t let him feel much, if any, pain at all. “Annabeth… pretty girl over there… needs saving. I’m doing the saving now.” Annabeth doesn’t exactly know what Percy’s going on about, but he’s got a gooey look in his eye that is absolutely inappropriate for monster fights. She hands Percy off to Reyna and faces the Siren one-on-one.
“You’re not welcome here,” Annabeth shouts at the watery creature. “Now eat celestial bronze!” She stabs the Siren in the throat, effectively cutting off its power of song.
“Annabeth-they’ve got Leo!” Piper shrieks. In her periphery a dark haired boy is lugged over the side of the boat. Reyna is already on the move, but Annabeth is closest. Taking a deep breath, Annabeth plunges into the icy cold of the ocean, sword pointed at the Siren’s throat.
“Daughter of Athena,” the Siren hisses at her. “You’ve got the two you truly desire… why don’t you leave one for us girls? We so rarely get demigod flesh.”
“He doesn’t belong to you,” Annabeth growls, attempting to stab the Siren-but in the water, the thrusting motion is extraordinarily difficult.
“Duck, Annabeth!” Reyna shouts from above. Annabeth barely has time to push herself under water when a celestial bronze harpoon takes out the last Siren, leaving Leo alive, albeit unconscious.
“The idiots insist on hearing the Siren’s song for themselves,” Reyna growls as she hauls Annabeth and Leo up with Piper. “I swear, I am going to rip them all a new one when they come to.”
Annabeth lets out a long laugh. “Count me in,” she grins, popping out the wax earplugs. Reyna and Piper rip theirs out too, both amused at their predicament. For a moment, all three girls are silent, unsure what to do now that their common goal has been accomplished.
“Let’s leave them tied up for a while,” Annabeth suggest to the girls conspiratorially. “I think I saw some donuts downstairs that Derek has been hoarding.”
“Dibs on the chocolate frosting!” Reyna laughs, racing down the steps; Annabeth and Piper follow after her, reveling in their newfound comradery.
A few minutes later, Percy comes to.
“Guys?” he calls out meekly. “I think the Sirens are gone.”
“Sorry, what was that?” Annabeth calls out from downstairs. “I can’t hear you over the sound of your own stupid, wafting toward me.”
“Untie us!” Derek demands upon his awakening.
“This chocolate donut sure is delicious,” Reyna says loudly. “Good thing Derek’s not awake right now, or he’d sure be mad.”
The girls laugh uproariously together. Annabeth feels her heart soar as the Argo II hurtles on toward their final destination, finally able to enjoy a donut in the company of new friends.
The deck is quiet now as the Argo II glides over calm seas under a full moon and a starry sky. Most of the demigods are below, tucked into their hammocks, dreaming about Sirens and Tabasco sauce and forgotten memories. Annabeth leans her elbows on the railing before her, leaning out beyond the nose of the ship. The wind pushes her blonde hair off her face, and she watches the horizon.
Jason comes up behind her wordlessly. She sees the outline of his arm in her periphery, flinches, then relaxes. They say nothing for a few minutes, just stand together, Jason’s warmth behind Annabeth just close enough to revel in. They do not touch.
“I thought it would be different,” Annabeth finally says into the dark nothingness of sea before them. “When Percy returned. I mean, no. I didn’t think it would be different. I thought things could go back to how they used to be.”
“So you wanted things to be the same,” Jason muses.
“I wanted a good thing back,” Annabeth says, sudden fury behind her words. “Percy was a good thing for me, Jason. I don’t know if you realize that.”
“I do,” Jason recognizes unhappily. He slides his hand along the railing until it nearly touches Annabeth’s own clenched fingers. “But you know what, Annabeth?”
Jason steps in closer, pressing Annabeth’s back against his chest. She shudders, and Jason finds himself pleased.
“I could be a good thing for you, too,” Jason offers. Annabeth lets out a shattered breath, pressing the back of her neck against Jason, turning her head slightly to look up at the son of Zeus in the dark. “A great thing, maybe.”
He’s about to lean in and kiss her when he notices her wet cheeks and reddened eyes. Annabeth had been crying throughout their entire conversation and Jason had remained unaware of her tears until just then. He balks and turns his head away. This is not how he wants their first kiss to be.
A stab of fiery jealousy shoots through Jason and he welcomes it as Annabeth pushes him back.
“If there’s one thing I know about you, Jason Grace,” Annabeth sighs, “it’s that you are definitely a great thing.”
She grazes her knuckles up and down his arm, giving Jason goose bumps, then leaves for what little sleep she can muster.
Jason sees them holding hands the next day in the early morning, Annabeth with a smile on her face that could light up Vegas and Percy with the twinkle of a smirk in his eyes. Jason restrains himself from interrupting their moment, simply distracts himself with the five thousand other things the demigods had to do before landing in Greece. Still, with every trivial activity (sharpening swords, going over tactics with Derek), Jason’s mind is filled with those two hands, clasping at each other like a lifeline to this world.
Jason finds that he doesn’t like his new, near constant state of envy. He considers the idea that this new person he’s become is hardly like the person he’s always wanted to be. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, is no loser.
And yet Annabeth continues to ignore him, save a few emotional looks throughout the day and some casual jokes prodded in his direction (for his enjoyment, Jason thinks derisively).
“You okay there, buddy?” Leo asks Jason after a significantly strong gust of wind knocks his tools into a scattered array on the deck. Jason picks up Leo’s wrench and hands it back to the shorter demigod. His hand comes away sticky with a dark liquid that looks as horrible as it smells.
“Tell me what exactly this is?” Jason asks, holding up his dirty hand to Leo. Leo gives Jason a weak smile.
“Trying to mix a new concoction for Festus,” Leo sighs. “We’re low on Tabasco sauce, so I’m trying to find a substitute. Unsuccessfully, I might add.”
Jason looks down at his hand for a long moment, then lets out a long, mirthful laugh. It feels good and rings throughout the deck. Leo shrugs his shoulders as if to say “Who, me?” and Jason palms Leo’s cheek, smudging Leo’s face with the dark red substance.
Leo ducks his head to collect the rest of his tools, and a slight pink reddens his cheeks as Jason floats down to the surface of the ocean to wash his hand off in the brisk waves.
Derek is the one to answer the Iris Message, and he calls them all below deck with a succinct bellow. The Iris Message is contained in a large golden bowl that had once been used on Olympus for the tree nymphs to drink from. It is decorated with various feats of Hermes, and the rim is inlaid with various jewels. One of the Stoll brothers had snatched it during some of Annabeth’s construction after the last battle. Annabeth hadn’t had the heart to return it to the horrible nymphs who had been such a pain in her backside throughout most of her time at Mt. Olympus.
“Hello, young demigods,” Chiron greets soberly. Annabeth takes lead quickly, snatching the bowl of water from Derek, who glares at her unhappily and with deep loathing. Percy shoots Derek a look, and Derek crosses his arms in front of his chest and goes to sit next to Reyna, who rolls her eyes at the blonde daughter of Athena with distaste.
“What’s going on, Chiron?” Annabeth asks the bowl quickly.
“While you were away, Rachel had another prophecy,” Chiron says gravely. “The final battle against the giants and Gaea herself is to take place in Greece. Both the Roman campers and the campers from Half-Blood Hill are preparing to follow you across the Atlantic.”
“That sounds like an oddly specific prophecy, Chiron,” Annabeth says after a moment of tense silence.
“I merely offer my best interpretation of Rachel’s words,” Chiron says with a shrug. “We don’t have time to build another ship, so we will all make the trip by plane.”
Percy shudders slightly next to Annabeth. “I’m sure that plan is going over great with the Lord of the Sky,” Percy mutters. Jason glares at Percy but says nothing, for the son of Poseidon had a point: Jupiter would not be pleased with hundreds of demigods invading his domain.
“What do you mean, we don’t have time?” Reyna asks.
“Luke has proved useful in his return,” Chiron says. He waves a large hand and a familiar face enters the picture.
“Luke,” Annabeth breathes.
“Howdy, folks,” he grins, but there is no laughter or joy behind the smile. “I’ve got a pretty accurate network of informants, and they say that Gaea will make her move in three days.”
“Where are you getting this information from?” Piper asks coolly.
“How long do you think it takes someone to walk out of the Underworld, little girl,” Luke spits at her. Annabeth recoils from his angry visage. “Let’s just say that along the way, I made a few friends. Significantly more enemies, but that’s really not of your concern, is it?” He glares at Piper, who remains silently stoic.
“Enough, children,” Chiron sighs. “Fighting amongst ourselves is just what Gaea wants. Percy, how far are you from the destined port?”
“We can make it there in under a day, without any interruptions,” Percy says immediately.
“And since when do demigods ever get anywhere on time?” Chiron laughs. “I can guess you will be running into trouble soon enough. Plan on arriving in under a day, but expect at least two. We’ll meet you there. The fight will occur as the solstice wanes, demigods. Prepare yourselves.”
Annabeth’s arms and legs burn with the force of exertion it takes to grip the giant serpent beneath her. The salty ocean spray stings the open cuts on the back of her hands, across her knuckles from when the monster had knocked her halfway across the deck of the Argo II. A golden bow is slung over her back, but the silver sheath that accompanied it is now deep in the serpent’s belly.
“Percy!” she screams. “Any time now!”
Percy is about ten feet ahead of her, throwing what look suspiciously like water javelins at the creature’s head: one of the attacks strikes the serpent in the eye. The monster roars and jerks beneath Annabeth, who, after a few rough lurches manages to hang on to the beast. She reaches down to her ankle and pulls out a substantial blade. Shuffling down the serpent’s neck, she uses her knife to ground her, stabbing the creature in an effort to keep her stable. A ball of fire zooms over her head, hitting the snake in the ear. Annabeth can hear Leo whooping in the background, but she doesn’t let herself get distracted. A figure hurtles past her, and Annabeth’s neck whips around in an attempt to see who now had joined the fray.
Derek, swords strapped across his torso like a demigod Rambo, is held aloft by a wave that can only be Percy’s doing.
“I figured you’d want to stay above surface level,” Percy yells over the tumult.
“You know, a swim about now might be quite nice,” Derek taunts back, swinging an ax into the gaping mouth of the serpent. The creature screams as the ax lodges itself into a crevasse between two of its long, white fangs. Percy and Derek work as a team, alternating attacks and varying their weapons. A multitude of swords, axes, and shields fly into the serpent’s belly and into the ocean’s depths. The constant dual attack, is, however, working: the serpent slows down and recoils from Derek and Percy. They high five with their respective weapons.
Annabeth rolls her eyes. Boys.
She continues her ascent up the monster’s back, now holding onto the spiny blue spikes that adorn the nape of the serpent’s neck and funnel into a crest at the peak of the its skull. Annabeth turns back to the Argo II to take in the situation.
Reyna is unconscious with Piper by her side across the deck. Jason and Leo stand together firing cannons at the snake: Leo shoots the ammo with poor aim due to the choppy seas, and Jason readjusts each shot using a wind tunnel so that they all hit the serpent where it hurts.
“Jason!” she screams when she reaches the creature’s head. “We need lightning!”
“Too dangerous!” Jason shouts back. “You’re all in the water! It’ll kill you, Percy, and Derek!”
Annabeth takes her knife and stabs the serpent in the right eye. A screaming hiss erupts from the serpent’s mouth, and both Percy and Derek are knocked under water by the serpent’s tail. Annabeth hurls her knife into her left hand and stabs the serpent’s left eye, feeling the eye matter squelch beneath her hand. Another scream, and the monster has been rendered blind.
“Jason, it’s now or never!” Annabeth shouts, jumping off the snake and into the water. A rough hand grabs the back of her shirt, and Annabeth sees a figure through the murky water that could only be Percy carrying a limp Derek over his shoulder. Salt water goes up Annabeth’s nose as she is dragged out of the water and back onto the deck of the ship. Jason hovers above Annabeth, who coughs up the words, “Zap-it!”
Jason hops onto the railing of the ship and Annabeth can see dark clouds gathering above them.
“Percy, get him out of there,” Jason yells, arms up in the air, palms pressed together as if in prayer. Jason’s eyes are closed for a long moment, and the air crackles with electricity.
Percy drags himself aboard and turns to drag Derek on deck as well. Annabeth crawls toward Percy, exhaustion and adrenaline battling for supremacy in her body. She claws her way to Percy, and the two of them begin pulling Derek up from the water.
“Is he clear?” Jason asks, eyes focused completely on the clouds above them. Annabeth and Percy continue pulling at Derek in vain. “Is he clear?” he shouts again, strain in his voice.
“Just go, Jason!” Annabeth screams, pulling twice as hard at Derek, whose sodden jeans have gotten stuck on something sharp just beyond sight.
It all happens in quick succession: the serpent strikes at Derek, Percy, and Annabeth, mouth wide; the lightning strikes the monster square in the back of the neck; and Jason collapses on deck from pure fatigue.
Annabeth vaguely realizes that the clouds above them dissipate quickly once Jason has fallen to the ground. Percy’s hand grips Annabeth’s wrist tightly, and Annabeth feels herself shake beneath his fingertips. Her mouth drops open slightly, and she allows herself a moment of frozen horror.
Before them is Derek, now fully on deck, missing the majority of his right leg. Deep red blood gushes from the wound, coating the ground and dripping off the deck grotesquely.
“No,” Annabeth grunts, scrambling at last and pouncing on Derek’s stump, attempting to stop the bleed. “NO!”
“Just keep pressure on it,” Percy says, but his voice shakes slightly. He clears his throat and keeps his voice calm. “Chiron will know what to do. Leo is going to call him now. Just keep your hands there.”
Percy presses his hands on top of Annabeth’s, and quickly the blood seeps between both their fingertips and coats both their hands.
“What,” Jason groans. Annabeth presses her head against Derek’s chest: his heartbeat is slow, but its still there. “What’s happening? Did-did we get it?”
“Yeah,” Percy calls back. “We got it. Good job there, Jason.” His voice is overly cheerful.
“Derek okay?” Jason asks, crawling toward Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth’s lips press together. “Annabeth? Is he okay?”
“No,” Annabeth replies at last, turning her head toward Jason, who sits on his heels, aghast.
Nico arrives minutes later. He takes one look at Derek and gulps.
“Okay, okay. Move,” he orders, and Percy scoots backward, hands red and bright. Annabeth remains over Derek.
“I don’t even like you,” she growls, head bent low, mouth by Derek’s ear. “But I swear to the gods, if you die, I will take it personally.” She leans back and stands before Derek and Nico, creating a shadow. In a moment, Nico and Derek have shadow traveled away, and all that’s left on deck is a purple-red bloodstain and a blue spine from the serpent’s hide.
The next day, Nico returns, but not alone.
Percy’s hand goes immediately to Riptide, and Annabeth’s hand to her mouth. Jason had been in the middle of walking down the stairs, and he misses the last step in shock. Quickly, Jason is standing next to Percy, Juno’s spear pointed at Luke as well.
“You need seven demigods on this ship,” Nico says softly.
“Why does it have to be him?” Percy growls. Luke steps out from behind Nico with an apologetic look in his eye.
“Derek granted him his spot,” Nico mutters. “Just before slipping into convenient unconsciousness.”
“Next time your leg is severed, let me know how staying conscious goes,” Reyna bites back. Her face is tear streaked and full of fury at the loss of the Castra camper.
“He wasn’t in his right mind,” Luke says slightly bitterly. “He thought it was someone else. Someone he used to know.” Luke shrugs. “Guess I just have one of those faces?”
Percy doesn’t even dignify Luke’s joke with a response and simply stomps off to the upper deck in a huff.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” Jason says, taking three steps toward Luke so that his spear rests against Luke’s throat. “I don’t trust you, son of Hermes. So if you even think about betraying us, I will use you for target practice.”
“You wouldn’t want that,” Leo pipes up. “Jason’s bad at a lot of stuff, but hitting targets ain’t one of them.”
Luke’s eyes narrow and he pushes the spear to the side and walks up and out of the lower deck. Jason lets out a breath and feels his bravado slipping from him. He turns to Annabeth, who has sat herself down next to Nico.
“We could really use you,” she tells the son of Hades softly. “You have already earned our trust ten thousand times over. Luke is an asset, yes, but his road is uphill.”
“I volunteered,” Nico begins, then cuts himself off. “No. It’s better that I not be here. I’ll stay until Luke’s settled, but then I have to go and regroup some skeleton armies in the Underworld. If you’d like to stand a chance against the giants, that is.”
Annabeth nods. "Alright, go then. Feel free to stay here as long as you need to recover from the shadow traveling, and make sure to regroup with us once we get to Olympus."
"Aye, aye, captain," Nico says, saluting Annabeth with a grin.
A few hours have passed since Luke and Nico arrived on board. Nico settles himself into a seat across from Derek’s empty hammock next to Leo, who is fiddling with a couple of screws and bolts. Leo doesn’t even look down at his hands while they work with his penknife, twisting and unwinding various parts together and apart; instead, he stares ahead at the hammocks, unblinking.
“We haven’t really had the chance to talk,” Nico begins. Leo tilts his head to the side absently.
“Why do we need to talk?” Leo asks, turning over a screw in his hand over and over again.
“Enough.” Nico snatches Leo’s tools and glares at the younger boy. “Because I know what you’re going through, gods help me. I helped Percy become who he was… before he lost all his memories. I watched him grow into a hero who turned down immortality for a normal life. Well, as normal as a demigod’s life can be.”
Leo’s hands stop moving, and instead grip his thighs as if bracing for impact.
“I’m used to falling for people I can never have, Nico,” Leo says lightly, but the look he gives Nico is fearful and grave.
“Join the club,” Nico sighs.
Leo wants to run far away from this conversation. He’s done with these feelings he’s been having: all he needs is Festus and a project and he’ll be fine. Good, even. He stands up and begins to walk away, but Leo feels Nico follow him up to the deck. Up top, the rest of the ship’s inhabitants train and consult each other, as if being louder will fill the void that Derek left.
“So you’ve got a thing for Annabeth,” Leo sighs, staring at the tall blonde from afar: she spars with Percy on the far end of the ship, swords flashing mercilessly. “Who on this damn ship doesn’t?” he jokes.
Nico shrugs, and his eyes flick to Percy’s form, almost dancing away from Annabeth’s blade with Riptide roaring out toward her, tight in his grip.
“Oh. Oh.” Leo runs a hand through his hair, a strange relief coursing through him.
“I know what you mean, man,” Leo sighs. His eyes flick to Jason and Piper, who are arguing feverishly.
“Which one?” Nico asks softly.
Leo runs a hand through his hair, shifting his gaze to the sky above, at the blazing sun above the seven demigods.
“Does it matter?” Leo sighs. Nico grants him a sympathetic look, placing a hand on Leo’s shoulder, because in all likelihood, it doesn’t matter. Leo’s cause is a lost one.
The son of Hephaestus’s eyes water briefly, and the tears are roughly blinked away.
“Our lives,” Leo growls, “just-really, they suck sometimes.”
“More than sometimes,” Nico says knowingly. “But it’s not all bad.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Leo says, narrowing his eyes at Nico, who blanches and backs away from Leo slowly.
“I’m trying to help you here, man,” Nico starts, but Leo raises his hand.
“Don’t need any help. Nothing to be helped. So shove off, alright?” Leo is below deck before Nico can say another word.
Nico pauses for a long moment, hands clenching and unclenching unconsciously. Then he steps into the shadow of the mast and disappears.
“Land ho!” Reyna’s voice yells out from on deck. Annabeth hurtles herself up from below deck, Luke taking stairs two at a time right behind her. Percy, Jason, and Leo surround Reyna and Piper, and all of them are looking out at the green on the horizon. Nervous excitement bubbles in Annabeth’s stomach: they have arrived in Greece at last. Luke glances at her, and she smiles at him: of all the demigods on the boat, Annabeth was the one gladdest to have him by her side. She knew what he was capable of, both the good and the evil. She had trusted him once, and though it was difficult to place trust in him once more, she considered him capable, and that was enough this time around.
They come to port in an hour and begin the long trek toward Mount Olympus, which lies in the distance, a small bump on the horizon. Leo ties down the ship at the shore, mournful to leave Festus behind, but from the beach they must make their way on foot. Each of the boys carries a compactable tent on his back, and the girls carry rations in their backpacks. Neither pack is light.
The hike goes on for hours, far beyond the dusky twilight into the early darkness of the evening, but no one is willing to stop until Reyna, still injured from the fight with the sea serpent, collapses to her hands and knees and Percy calls it quits.
“We can’t walk through the night,” Percy sighs, helping Reyna to her feet. “Let’s set up camp here.”
Annabeth is the first to figure out how to prop up the tents, and as a reward, she claims the largest tent in the name of Athena, much to the disgruntlement of the other demigods. It’s only when Annabeth spreads tactical plans over the floor of her tent that the other kids understand that whoever stays in her tent that night won’t be getting much sleep, what with the rustling of paper and strategic mutterings Annabeth would no doubt be spewing in her dreams.
Luke is the second person to get his tent aloft, but he graciously offers it to Reyna, which garners him a bit more respect amongst the group. It’s once Percy and Piper are attempting the third that Annabeth and Luke begin what would be known as the most dangerous game of hot potato ever, as the potato was a bowl of Greek fire.
“I thought you had it!” Luke says apologetically while getting swatted by a rolled up map courtesy of Annabeth.
“No,” Annabeth growls, continuing to hit him while Leo and Jason look on in amusement, “you said, ‘Here, Annabeth! Catch!’ THAT WAS THE ONLY WARNING, LUKE. I am this close to dumping this urn on your head!”
Funnily enough, however, once Annabeth finishes her tirade against Luke, the mood around the camp becomes far friendlier, especially between Luke and Jason, who seem to commiserate over how Annabeth’s bad side is not a side one would want to be on.
Annabeth is sharpening her knives by the fire when she overhears an achingly familiar laugh: it’s Percy, clutching at his sides, wheezing with the force of his giggling. It seems Piper is telling him a story about her first quest, and Percy seems very amused.
“Gwen would love that story,” Percy sighs, wiping a tear from his eye. “She always enjoys hearing about girls kicking butt.” Percy looks out into the dark around the campsite longingly and Annabeth groans in pain: she’s accidentally cut her palm with her knife.
“Crap,” she hisses as blood begins to stream from the cut.
“Here,” says a voice from behind her, and a compress is suddenly on her hand, delivered by Luke: the one and only.
Annabeth nods her thanks and presses the cloth down, wrapping it around her hand twice before tying it off in a simple knot.
“You okay?” Luke asks, taking a seat next to Annabeth. Percy and Piper are chatting away around ten feet from them, and the distance is enough to mask their words.
“Not really,” Annabeth sighs gloomily. “Haven’t been for a while.”
Luke glances at Percy, brows furrowing. “Can I take a guess at the source of your unhappiness?” Annabeth shrugs her shoulders in response. “Is said source a son of Poseidon that I need to beat up?”
“Don’t beat him up,” Annabeth says without force. “But yeah. It’s about Percy." She pauses thoughtfully. "It seems like it’s always about Percy.”
Luke throws an easy arm around Annabeth’s shoulders, tugging her into his side. “Then make it not about Percy. If that’s what you want, I mean.”
And there’s the rub. Annabeth groans, pressing her eyes into Luke’s chest.
“I wish I knew what I wanted,” Annabeth says, voice muffled by Luke’s shirt. For a moment, things feel extraordinarily normal, as if Luke had never betrayed her and left Camp Half-Blood. Jason walks by the two of them and the moment is broken: Annabeth moves back, away from Luke.
“I don’t know if you’ll believe me when I say this, but I want to see you happy, Annabeth,” Luke sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. “If Percy can’t make you happy anymore, find someone else who will. I hate to see you all… pine-y.”
“Pine-y?” Annabeth laughs. “Are you calling me prickly, Castellan?” Though the message stated is clear, all it does is cloud Annabeth’s thoughts with images of another blonde boy she knows.
Jason enters Annabeth’s tent purposefully, with a mission in mind, but all his intentions melt away when he sees her: knees bunched up, concentrating hard on the pile of plans before her, brow furrowed, fingers drumming against her calves.
“Hey,” he says, ducking into the tent. Annabeth, startled, claws for her knife, and then relaxes. “Sorry to interrupt,” he adds, and she shrugs, brushing the papers in front of her to the side.
"Nah, it's okay," Annabeth says kindly. "I should probably stop soon. Just can't get this damn maneuver to work in my head."
Jason brushes the diagram before her away and sits in front of her, waiting in silence for... for what, exactly? Jason didn't know. They stay quiet as Annabeth clears her throat and lets out an uneasy breath.
"We need to talk," Jason finally says, breaking the silence. "I need to know where you stand. Where we stand." He clenches his hands tightly in frustration. "Have I been imagining things here, Annabeth? Have I been that deluded?"
Annabeth's eyebrows raise in concern, and she shakes her head back and forth. A knot Jason hadn't known was there unfurls within the pit of his stomach.
"Well," Jason says. "Well good, then. I guess." Another long pause.
“My fatal flaw is pride, Jason,” Annabeth tells him at last, hand dancing across his knee. Jason feels electrified by her touch. He senses as if the two of them are on the edge of something greater: something intense and aching and incredible. “I want to build something that lasts across time. It’s part of why I was so honored to be Olympus’s architect: there, I had the chance to build an eternal paradise. To create things that would never die.”
She sighs. “I want what I had-have… with Percy to last forever, too,” she says, apologetic eyes staring through him. “That’s why I have to try. And why this,” she says, glancing away, “whatever this is, has to stop.” Jason for a moment feels as though the floor has gone out from under him... Annabeth, however, continues dancing her fingers on and around his knee, and Jason’s confusion begins to mount. On one hand, she is cutting him off with her words, but her touch remains a constant reminder of her simultaneous desire for him.
Now it’s time to fight for what I want, Jason decides.
“Annabeth,” he murmurs, entwining her fingers with his, rubbing a strong thumb against the back of her hand. “What if he never remembers?”
Annabeth’s eyes shine. “He’ll remember. And if he doesn’t, we can begin again.”
“You don’t deserve that kind of heartbreak,” Jason murmurs, scooting closer to her so that their torsos are nearly touching. “You deserve the world, and I can give that to you. With me, you wouldn’t have to begin again. With me, you could just… live. I care about you, Annabeth. Not eventually: today. I care about you right now. And you don’t have to work for it: you already have my love.” The words pour out now, and Jason almost feels as if he’s summoning a lightning bolt or flying through the air: that’s the same kind of power he feels surging through his body.
Annabeth says nothing. Jason leans in and presses his nose against Annabeth’s neck, lifting her mass of blonde curls up to kiss her throat. She sighs in response, and Jason brings himself to her lips. He does not lean forward, however: he cannot let her be the passive one now. It takes a moment of quiet stillness, but then Annabeth presses her lips against his own, and the whole world is falling away: there is no quest, no impending doom, no amnesia, no questions… there is just Annabeth, and the way her breath fogs up his thoughts, and her arms around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist.
Her touch makes him burn, and his heart beats fast now, adrenaline pumping through his veins as though he is in the heat of battle. He finds the hem of her shirt and lets his hands find their way beneath it. He claws at the skin of her back, clutching her to his chest. Annabeth’s fingers thread through Jason’s hair, then drop to yank his shirt above his head… and then he is shirtless and laying her down on the floor of the tent. He hovers above her, forearms on the ground on each side of her chest, lips running across her collarbone.
“Jason,” she heaves breathlessly. “Please…” His thigh finds its way between her legs so that their limbs thread together seamlessly. She groans and arches her hips upward against him, and Jason moans in turn. It’s nearly too much, the scene of Annabeth beneath him, writhing in pleasure. It’s too perfect.
Too perfect. The moment Jason thinks it, Annabeth’s expression slides from ecstasy to blankness.
“Annabeth?” Jason murmurs. “What’s wrong?”
She turns her head to the side, staring at the side of the tent.
"No," Jason whispers. "Don't do this. Don't." But she does not make eye contact with him until Jason slowly removes himself from their entanglement.
At last, Annabeth draws away from him, shaking her head.
"I can't," she says. "I can't, I can't do this-"
"You can't what, Annabeth?" Jason says, anger now in his voice. "You can't be happy? Is that it?"
Annabeth's eyes flash aggressively, and the two seethe at each other for a heated moment. Annabeth brushes her hair back and evenly inhales and exhales, attempting to calm down.
“I’m too old for you, Grace… and your sister would probably kill me in my sleep,” Annabeth finally jokes, but her voice is choked and stifled.
Jason’s chest feels constricted, like he can barely breath. “Don’t-don’t joke about this, Annabeth,” he manages, his hand palming his own chest.
Annabeth’s eyes gaze mournfully at him. She gives him back his shirt, and he pulls it on wordlessly. He stands up and goes to leave before the emotions bottled up inside him can erupt. He cannot tell if it’s rage or grief driving him out the tent now. He supposes it doesn’t matter.
“It could have been you,” she tells him softly. Jason stops in his tracks but does not turn to face her. “If we had grown up together in the same way Percy and I did… well, you’ve got that spark.”
“Son of Jupiter, occupational hazard,” Jason says, voice void of emotion.
“Now who’s joking,” Annabeth prods back hesitantly, but in a moment, Jason is gone, out into the darkness of the campsite, leaving her alone in her self-proclaimed Tent of Athena, surrounded by crumpled paper and an overwhelming desire to punch something.
Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus
Pairing: Jason/Annabeth, Percy/Annabeth, with a smattering of other pairings along the way
Rating: PG-13 (maybe a light R for gore)
Spoilers: For The Lost Hero.
Word Count: 6000 for this part.
Summary: Post TLH fic. CUE SPOILER WARNING RIGHT HERE. DO NOT READ ON IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE LOST HERO!
Camp Half-Blood is preparing for war, and that means that they'll need to join forces with the Roman demigods before setting off to Greece to bring Rachel Elizabeth Dare's Great Prophecy to fruition. Annabeth is getting restless with waiting, and a surprising figure is there to distract her: Jason Grace, son of Jupiter--figures she'd hold out for another hero. It won't be long until the Roman legion arrives at the gates of Camp Half-Blood, with Percy Jackson at their helm... when the two camps come together, the ties that bind will be tested and all hell will break loose, literally.
A/N: This story probably makes little sense without having read Part 1 and Part 2. The goal is to finish this fic before RR publishes Son of Poseidon in the fall--wish me luck! PS: If you're looking for a good soundtrack to listen to while reading this fic, I highly recommend any and all Adele, but especially her first CD 19. Basically it's all I listen to while writing Annabeth/Jason haha.
The ship has long since lost sight of Long Island, and cruising at what Percy tells her is sixty knots per hour, Annabeth can feel the wind whip past them as they hurtle across the Atlantic. Every so often, the wind dies down around her, giving her a small break respite from the tumultuous gusts that surround the boat; in those moments, Annabeth knows Jason is manipulating the winds for her, and she’ll give him a small smile or a pat on the back. She doesn’t really know how to handle herself around both Percy and Jason. Both boys give her looks that warm Annabeth’s heart and crush it simultaneously. She feels like the butt of some cruel joke, where her broken heart is the punch line and the gods are having some sort of riotous game of who-can-make-Annabeth’s-life-suck-more.
But with seven demigods on a boat with a dragon’s head attached to its hull that Leo occasionally feeds when he thinks no one is looking, monsters were bound to show up sooner or later. Annabeth had hoped, though, that the Sirens would come later, rather than sooner.
“Boys,” she growls, tying a drooling Derek to the mast. Piper groans as Jason attempts to resist her, reaching out toward the sharp-toothed sea creatures on the prow of the vessel.
“Gods damn it, Jason,” she says, putting as much power into her voice as she could manage, “would you hold still?” Even Annabeth doesn’t dare move a muscle for a moment, and she hadn’t caught the brunt of Piper’s words: Jason stops struggling immediately, and Piper binds him perfunctorily next to Derek. The Sirens cry out unhappily as half of their quarry is hefted out of their grasping claws.
Percy is less lucky. He’s about to plant a wet one on a particularly horrible looking Siren at the prow of the ship when Annabeth hurls him backward onto the deck of the ship. Unfortunately in the struggle, she manages to fall right on top of him, landing a knee right in the son of Poseidon’s side.
“My spleen,” Percy groans, though Annabeth knows that the curse of Achilles shouldn’t let him feel much, if any, pain at all. “Annabeth… pretty girl over there… needs saving. I’m doing the saving now.” Annabeth doesn’t exactly know what Percy’s going on about, but he’s got a gooey look in his eye that is absolutely inappropriate for monster fights. She hands Percy off to Reyna and faces the Siren one-on-one.
“You’re not welcome here,” Annabeth shouts at the watery creature. “Now eat celestial bronze!” She stabs the Siren in the throat, effectively cutting off its power of song.
“Annabeth-they’ve got Leo!” Piper shrieks. In her periphery a dark haired boy is lugged over the side of the boat. Reyna is already on the move, but Annabeth is closest. Taking a deep breath, Annabeth plunges into the icy cold of the ocean, sword pointed at the Siren’s throat.
“Daughter of Athena,” the Siren hisses at her. “You’ve got the two you truly desire… why don’t you leave one for us girls? We so rarely get demigod flesh.”
“He doesn’t belong to you,” Annabeth growls, attempting to stab the Siren-but in the water, the thrusting motion is extraordinarily difficult.
“Duck, Annabeth!” Reyna shouts from above. Annabeth barely has time to push herself under water when a celestial bronze harpoon takes out the last Siren, leaving Leo alive, albeit unconscious.
“The idiots insist on hearing the Siren’s song for themselves,” Reyna growls as she hauls Annabeth and Leo up with Piper. “I swear, I am going to rip them all a new one when they come to.”
Annabeth lets out a long laugh. “Count me in,” she grins, popping out the wax earplugs. Reyna and Piper rip theirs out too, both amused at their predicament. For a moment, all three girls are silent, unsure what to do now that their common goal has been accomplished.
“Let’s leave them tied up for a while,” Annabeth suggest to the girls conspiratorially. “I think I saw some donuts downstairs that Derek has been hoarding.”
“Dibs on the chocolate frosting!” Reyna laughs, racing down the steps; Annabeth and Piper follow after her, reveling in their newfound comradery.
A few minutes later, Percy comes to.
“Guys?” he calls out meekly. “I think the Sirens are gone.”
“Sorry, what was that?” Annabeth calls out from downstairs. “I can’t hear you over the sound of your own stupid, wafting toward me.”
“Untie us!” Derek demands upon his awakening.
“This chocolate donut sure is delicious,” Reyna says loudly. “Good thing Derek’s not awake right now, or he’d sure be mad.”
The girls laugh uproariously together. Annabeth feels her heart soar as the Argo II hurtles on toward their final destination, finally able to enjoy a donut in the company of new friends.
The deck is quiet now as the Argo II glides over calm seas under a full moon and a starry sky. Most of the demigods are below, tucked into their hammocks, dreaming about Sirens and Tabasco sauce and forgotten memories. Annabeth leans her elbows on the railing before her, leaning out beyond the nose of the ship. The wind pushes her blonde hair off her face, and she watches the horizon.
Jason comes up behind her wordlessly. She sees the outline of his arm in her periphery, flinches, then relaxes. They say nothing for a few minutes, just stand together, Jason’s warmth behind Annabeth just close enough to revel in. They do not touch.
“I thought it would be different,” Annabeth finally says into the dark nothingness of sea before them. “When Percy returned. I mean, no. I didn’t think it would be different. I thought things could go back to how they used to be.”
“So you wanted things to be the same,” Jason muses.
“I wanted a good thing back,” Annabeth says, sudden fury behind her words. “Percy was a good thing for me, Jason. I don’t know if you realize that.”
“I do,” Jason recognizes unhappily. He slides his hand along the railing until it nearly touches Annabeth’s own clenched fingers. “But you know what, Annabeth?”
Jason steps in closer, pressing Annabeth’s back against his chest. She shudders, and Jason finds himself pleased.
“I could be a good thing for you, too,” Jason offers. Annabeth lets out a shattered breath, pressing the back of her neck against Jason, turning her head slightly to look up at the son of Zeus in the dark. “A great thing, maybe.”
He’s about to lean in and kiss her when he notices her wet cheeks and reddened eyes. Annabeth had been crying throughout their entire conversation and Jason had remained unaware of her tears until just then. He balks and turns his head away. This is not how he wants their first kiss to be.
A stab of fiery jealousy shoots through Jason and he welcomes it as Annabeth pushes him back.
“If there’s one thing I know about you, Jason Grace,” Annabeth sighs, “it’s that you are definitely a great thing.”
She grazes her knuckles up and down his arm, giving Jason goose bumps, then leaves for what little sleep she can muster.
Jason sees them holding hands the next day in the early morning, Annabeth with a smile on her face that could light up Vegas and Percy with the twinkle of a smirk in his eyes. Jason restrains himself from interrupting their moment, simply distracts himself with the five thousand other things the demigods had to do before landing in Greece. Still, with every trivial activity (sharpening swords, going over tactics with Derek), Jason’s mind is filled with those two hands, clasping at each other like a lifeline to this world.
Jason finds that he doesn’t like his new, near constant state of envy. He considers the idea that this new person he’s become is hardly like the person he’s always wanted to be. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, is no loser.
And yet Annabeth continues to ignore him, save a few emotional looks throughout the day and some casual jokes prodded in his direction (for his enjoyment, Jason thinks derisively).
“You okay there, buddy?” Leo asks Jason after a significantly strong gust of wind knocks his tools into a scattered array on the deck. Jason picks up Leo’s wrench and hands it back to the shorter demigod. His hand comes away sticky with a dark liquid that looks as horrible as it smells.
“Tell me what exactly this is?” Jason asks, holding up his dirty hand to Leo. Leo gives Jason a weak smile.
“Trying to mix a new concoction for Festus,” Leo sighs. “We’re low on Tabasco sauce, so I’m trying to find a substitute. Unsuccessfully, I might add.”
Jason looks down at his hand for a long moment, then lets out a long, mirthful laugh. It feels good and rings throughout the deck. Leo shrugs his shoulders as if to say “Who, me?” and Jason palms Leo’s cheek, smudging Leo’s face with the dark red substance.
Leo ducks his head to collect the rest of his tools, and a slight pink reddens his cheeks as Jason floats down to the surface of the ocean to wash his hand off in the brisk waves.
Derek is the one to answer the Iris Message, and he calls them all below deck with a succinct bellow. The Iris Message is contained in a large golden bowl that had once been used on Olympus for the tree nymphs to drink from. It is decorated with various feats of Hermes, and the rim is inlaid with various jewels. One of the Stoll brothers had snatched it during some of Annabeth’s construction after the last battle. Annabeth hadn’t had the heart to return it to the horrible nymphs who had been such a pain in her backside throughout most of her time at Mt. Olympus.
“Hello, young demigods,” Chiron greets soberly. Annabeth takes lead quickly, snatching the bowl of water from Derek, who glares at her unhappily and with deep loathing. Percy shoots Derek a look, and Derek crosses his arms in front of his chest and goes to sit next to Reyna, who rolls her eyes at the blonde daughter of Athena with distaste.
“What’s going on, Chiron?” Annabeth asks the bowl quickly.
“While you were away, Rachel had another prophecy,” Chiron says gravely. “The final battle against the giants and Gaea herself is to take place in Greece. Both the Roman campers and the campers from Half-Blood Hill are preparing to follow you across the Atlantic.”
“That sounds like an oddly specific prophecy, Chiron,” Annabeth says after a moment of tense silence.
“I merely offer my best interpretation of Rachel’s words,” Chiron says with a shrug. “We don’t have time to build another ship, so we will all make the trip by plane.”
Percy shudders slightly next to Annabeth. “I’m sure that plan is going over great with the Lord of the Sky,” Percy mutters. Jason glares at Percy but says nothing, for the son of Poseidon had a point: Jupiter would not be pleased with hundreds of demigods invading his domain.
“What do you mean, we don’t have time?” Reyna asks.
“Luke has proved useful in his return,” Chiron says. He waves a large hand and a familiar face enters the picture.
“Luke,” Annabeth breathes.
“Howdy, folks,” he grins, but there is no laughter or joy behind the smile. “I’ve got a pretty accurate network of informants, and they say that Gaea will make her move in three days.”
“Where are you getting this information from?” Piper asks coolly.
“How long do you think it takes someone to walk out of the Underworld, little girl,” Luke spits at her. Annabeth recoils from his angry visage. “Let’s just say that along the way, I made a few friends. Significantly more enemies, but that’s really not of your concern, is it?” He glares at Piper, who remains silently stoic.
“Enough, children,” Chiron sighs. “Fighting amongst ourselves is just what Gaea wants. Percy, how far are you from the destined port?”
“We can make it there in under a day, without any interruptions,” Percy says immediately.
“And since when do demigods ever get anywhere on time?” Chiron laughs. “I can guess you will be running into trouble soon enough. Plan on arriving in under a day, but expect at least two. We’ll meet you there. The fight will occur as the solstice wanes, demigods. Prepare yourselves.”
Annabeth’s arms and legs burn with the force of exertion it takes to grip the giant serpent beneath her. The salty ocean spray stings the open cuts on the back of her hands, across her knuckles from when the monster had knocked her halfway across the deck of the Argo II. A golden bow is slung over her back, but the silver sheath that accompanied it is now deep in the serpent’s belly.
“Percy!” she screams. “Any time now!”
Percy is about ten feet ahead of her, throwing what look suspiciously like water javelins at the creature’s head: one of the attacks strikes the serpent in the eye. The monster roars and jerks beneath Annabeth, who, after a few rough lurches manages to hang on to the beast. She reaches down to her ankle and pulls out a substantial blade. Shuffling down the serpent’s neck, she uses her knife to ground her, stabbing the creature in an effort to keep her stable. A ball of fire zooms over her head, hitting the snake in the ear. Annabeth can hear Leo whooping in the background, but she doesn’t let herself get distracted. A figure hurtles past her, and Annabeth’s neck whips around in an attempt to see who now had joined the fray.
Derek, swords strapped across his torso like a demigod Rambo, is held aloft by a wave that can only be Percy’s doing.
“I figured you’d want to stay above surface level,” Percy yells over the tumult.
“You know, a swim about now might be quite nice,” Derek taunts back, swinging an ax into the gaping mouth of the serpent. The creature screams as the ax lodges itself into a crevasse between two of its long, white fangs. Percy and Derek work as a team, alternating attacks and varying their weapons. A multitude of swords, axes, and shields fly into the serpent’s belly and into the ocean’s depths. The constant dual attack, is, however, working: the serpent slows down and recoils from Derek and Percy. They high five with their respective weapons.
Annabeth rolls her eyes. Boys.
She continues her ascent up the monster’s back, now holding onto the spiny blue spikes that adorn the nape of the serpent’s neck and funnel into a crest at the peak of the its skull. Annabeth turns back to the Argo II to take in the situation.
Reyna is unconscious with Piper by her side across the deck. Jason and Leo stand together firing cannons at the snake: Leo shoots the ammo with poor aim due to the choppy seas, and Jason readjusts each shot using a wind tunnel so that they all hit the serpent where it hurts.
“Jason!” she screams when she reaches the creature’s head. “We need lightning!”
“Too dangerous!” Jason shouts back. “You’re all in the water! It’ll kill you, Percy, and Derek!”
Annabeth takes her knife and stabs the serpent in the right eye. A screaming hiss erupts from the serpent’s mouth, and both Percy and Derek are knocked under water by the serpent’s tail. Annabeth hurls her knife into her left hand and stabs the serpent’s left eye, feeling the eye matter squelch beneath her hand. Another scream, and the monster has been rendered blind.
“Jason, it’s now or never!” Annabeth shouts, jumping off the snake and into the water. A rough hand grabs the back of her shirt, and Annabeth sees a figure through the murky water that could only be Percy carrying a limp Derek over his shoulder. Salt water goes up Annabeth’s nose as she is dragged out of the water and back onto the deck of the ship. Jason hovers above Annabeth, who coughs up the words, “Zap-it!”
Jason hops onto the railing of the ship and Annabeth can see dark clouds gathering above them.
“Percy, get him out of there,” Jason yells, arms up in the air, palms pressed together as if in prayer. Jason’s eyes are closed for a long moment, and the air crackles with electricity.
Percy drags himself aboard and turns to drag Derek on deck as well. Annabeth crawls toward Percy, exhaustion and adrenaline battling for supremacy in her body. She claws her way to Percy, and the two of them begin pulling Derek up from the water.
“Is he clear?” Jason asks, eyes focused completely on the clouds above them. Annabeth and Percy continue pulling at Derek in vain. “Is he clear?” he shouts again, strain in his voice.
“Just go, Jason!” Annabeth screams, pulling twice as hard at Derek, whose sodden jeans have gotten stuck on something sharp just beyond sight.
It all happens in quick succession: the serpent strikes at Derek, Percy, and Annabeth, mouth wide; the lightning strikes the monster square in the back of the neck; and Jason collapses on deck from pure fatigue.
Annabeth vaguely realizes that the clouds above them dissipate quickly once Jason has fallen to the ground. Percy’s hand grips Annabeth’s wrist tightly, and Annabeth feels herself shake beneath his fingertips. Her mouth drops open slightly, and she allows herself a moment of frozen horror.
Before them is Derek, now fully on deck, missing the majority of his right leg. Deep red blood gushes from the wound, coating the ground and dripping off the deck grotesquely.
“No,” Annabeth grunts, scrambling at last and pouncing on Derek’s stump, attempting to stop the bleed. “NO!”
“Just keep pressure on it,” Percy says, but his voice shakes slightly. He clears his throat and keeps his voice calm. “Chiron will know what to do. Leo is going to call him now. Just keep your hands there.”
Percy presses his hands on top of Annabeth’s, and quickly the blood seeps between both their fingertips and coats both their hands.
“What,” Jason groans. Annabeth presses her head against Derek’s chest: his heartbeat is slow, but its still there. “What’s happening? Did-did we get it?”
“Yeah,” Percy calls back. “We got it. Good job there, Jason.” His voice is overly cheerful.
“Derek okay?” Jason asks, crawling toward Percy and Annabeth. Annabeth’s lips press together. “Annabeth? Is he okay?”
“No,” Annabeth replies at last, turning her head toward Jason, who sits on his heels, aghast.
Nico arrives minutes later. He takes one look at Derek and gulps.
“Okay, okay. Move,” he orders, and Percy scoots backward, hands red and bright. Annabeth remains over Derek.
“I don’t even like you,” she growls, head bent low, mouth by Derek’s ear. “But I swear to the gods, if you die, I will take it personally.” She leans back and stands before Derek and Nico, creating a shadow. In a moment, Nico and Derek have shadow traveled away, and all that’s left on deck is a purple-red bloodstain and a blue spine from the serpent’s hide.
The next day, Nico returns, but not alone.
Percy’s hand goes immediately to Riptide, and Annabeth’s hand to her mouth. Jason had been in the middle of walking down the stairs, and he misses the last step in shock. Quickly, Jason is standing next to Percy, Juno’s spear pointed at Luke as well.
“You need seven demigods on this ship,” Nico says softly.
“Why does it have to be him?” Percy growls. Luke steps out from behind Nico with an apologetic look in his eye.
“Derek granted him his spot,” Nico mutters. “Just before slipping into convenient unconsciousness.”
“Next time your leg is severed, let me know how staying conscious goes,” Reyna bites back. Her face is tear streaked and full of fury at the loss of the Castra camper.
“He wasn’t in his right mind,” Luke says slightly bitterly. “He thought it was someone else. Someone he used to know.” Luke shrugs. “Guess I just have one of those faces?”
Percy doesn’t even dignify Luke’s joke with a response and simply stomps off to the upper deck in a huff.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” Jason says, taking three steps toward Luke so that his spear rests against Luke’s throat. “I don’t trust you, son of Hermes. So if you even think about betraying us, I will use you for target practice.”
“You wouldn’t want that,” Leo pipes up. “Jason’s bad at a lot of stuff, but hitting targets ain’t one of them.”
Luke’s eyes narrow and he pushes the spear to the side and walks up and out of the lower deck. Jason lets out a breath and feels his bravado slipping from him. He turns to Annabeth, who has sat herself down next to Nico.
“We could really use you,” she tells the son of Hades softly. “You have already earned our trust ten thousand times over. Luke is an asset, yes, but his road is uphill.”
“I volunteered,” Nico begins, then cuts himself off. “No. It’s better that I not be here. I’ll stay until Luke’s settled, but then I have to go and regroup some skeleton armies in the Underworld. If you’d like to stand a chance against the giants, that is.”
Annabeth nods. "Alright, go then. Feel free to stay here as long as you need to recover from the shadow traveling, and make sure to regroup with us once we get to Olympus."
"Aye, aye, captain," Nico says, saluting Annabeth with a grin.
A few hours have passed since Luke and Nico arrived on board. Nico settles himself into a seat across from Derek’s empty hammock next to Leo, who is fiddling with a couple of screws and bolts. Leo doesn’t even look down at his hands while they work with his penknife, twisting and unwinding various parts together and apart; instead, he stares ahead at the hammocks, unblinking.
“We haven’t really had the chance to talk,” Nico begins. Leo tilts his head to the side absently.
“Why do we need to talk?” Leo asks, turning over a screw in his hand over and over again.
“Enough.” Nico snatches Leo’s tools and glares at the younger boy. “Because I know what you’re going through, gods help me. I helped Percy become who he was… before he lost all his memories. I watched him grow into a hero who turned down immortality for a normal life. Well, as normal as a demigod’s life can be.”
Leo’s hands stop moving, and instead grip his thighs as if bracing for impact.
“I’m used to falling for people I can never have, Nico,” Leo says lightly, but the look he gives Nico is fearful and grave.
“Join the club,” Nico sighs.
Leo wants to run far away from this conversation. He’s done with these feelings he’s been having: all he needs is Festus and a project and he’ll be fine. Good, even. He stands up and begins to walk away, but Leo feels Nico follow him up to the deck. Up top, the rest of the ship’s inhabitants train and consult each other, as if being louder will fill the void that Derek left.
“So you’ve got a thing for Annabeth,” Leo sighs, staring at the tall blonde from afar: she spars with Percy on the far end of the ship, swords flashing mercilessly. “Who on this damn ship doesn’t?” he jokes.
Nico shrugs, and his eyes flick to Percy’s form, almost dancing away from Annabeth’s blade with Riptide roaring out toward her, tight in his grip.
“Oh. Oh.” Leo runs a hand through his hair, a strange relief coursing through him.
“I know what you mean, man,” Leo sighs. His eyes flick to Jason and Piper, who are arguing feverishly.
“Which one?” Nico asks softly.
Leo runs a hand through his hair, shifting his gaze to the sky above, at the blazing sun above the seven demigods.
“Does it matter?” Leo sighs. Nico grants him a sympathetic look, placing a hand on Leo’s shoulder, because in all likelihood, it doesn’t matter. Leo’s cause is a lost one.
The son of Hephaestus’s eyes water briefly, and the tears are roughly blinked away.
“Our lives,” Leo growls, “just-really, they suck sometimes.”
“More than sometimes,” Nico says knowingly. “But it’s not all bad.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Leo says, narrowing his eyes at Nico, who blanches and backs away from Leo slowly.
“I’m trying to help you here, man,” Nico starts, but Leo raises his hand.
“Don’t need any help. Nothing to be helped. So shove off, alright?” Leo is below deck before Nico can say another word.
Nico pauses for a long moment, hands clenching and unclenching unconsciously. Then he steps into the shadow of the mast and disappears.
“Land ho!” Reyna’s voice yells out from on deck. Annabeth hurtles herself up from below deck, Luke taking stairs two at a time right behind her. Percy, Jason, and Leo surround Reyna and Piper, and all of them are looking out at the green on the horizon. Nervous excitement bubbles in Annabeth’s stomach: they have arrived in Greece at last. Luke glances at her, and she smiles at him: of all the demigods on the boat, Annabeth was the one gladdest to have him by her side. She knew what he was capable of, both the good and the evil. She had trusted him once, and though it was difficult to place trust in him once more, she considered him capable, and that was enough this time around.
They come to port in an hour and begin the long trek toward Mount Olympus, which lies in the distance, a small bump on the horizon. Leo ties down the ship at the shore, mournful to leave Festus behind, but from the beach they must make their way on foot. Each of the boys carries a compactable tent on his back, and the girls carry rations in their backpacks. Neither pack is light.
The hike goes on for hours, far beyond the dusky twilight into the early darkness of the evening, but no one is willing to stop until Reyna, still injured from the fight with the sea serpent, collapses to her hands and knees and Percy calls it quits.
“We can’t walk through the night,” Percy sighs, helping Reyna to her feet. “Let’s set up camp here.”
Annabeth is the first to figure out how to prop up the tents, and as a reward, she claims the largest tent in the name of Athena, much to the disgruntlement of the other demigods. It’s only when Annabeth spreads tactical plans over the floor of her tent that the other kids understand that whoever stays in her tent that night won’t be getting much sleep, what with the rustling of paper and strategic mutterings Annabeth would no doubt be spewing in her dreams.
Luke is the second person to get his tent aloft, but he graciously offers it to Reyna, which garners him a bit more respect amongst the group. It’s once Percy and Piper are attempting the third that Annabeth and Luke begin what would be known as the most dangerous game of hot potato ever, as the potato was a bowl of Greek fire.
“I thought you had it!” Luke says apologetically while getting swatted by a rolled up map courtesy of Annabeth.
“No,” Annabeth growls, continuing to hit him while Leo and Jason look on in amusement, “you said, ‘Here, Annabeth! Catch!’ THAT WAS THE ONLY WARNING, LUKE. I am this close to dumping this urn on your head!”
Funnily enough, however, once Annabeth finishes her tirade against Luke, the mood around the camp becomes far friendlier, especially between Luke and Jason, who seem to commiserate over how Annabeth’s bad side is not a side one would want to be on.
Annabeth is sharpening her knives by the fire when she overhears an achingly familiar laugh: it’s Percy, clutching at his sides, wheezing with the force of his giggling. It seems Piper is telling him a story about her first quest, and Percy seems very amused.
“Gwen would love that story,” Percy sighs, wiping a tear from his eye. “She always enjoys hearing about girls kicking butt.” Percy looks out into the dark around the campsite longingly and Annabeth groans in pain: she’s accidentally cut her palm with her knife.
“Crap,” she hisses as blood begins to stream from the cut.
“Here,” says a voice from behind her, and a compress is suddenly on her hand, delivered by Luke: the one and only.
Annabeth nods her thanks and presses the cloth down, wrapping it around her hand twice before tying it off in a simple knot.
“You okay?” Luke asks, taking a seat next to Annabeth. Percy and Piper are chatting away around ten feet from them, and the distance is enough to mask their words.
“Not really,” Annabeth sighs gloomily. “Haven’t been for a while.”
Luke glances at Percy, brows furrowing. “Can I take a guess at the source of your unhappiness?” Annabeth shrugs her shoulders in response. “Is said source a son of Poseidon that I need to beat up?”
“Don’t beat him up,” Annabeth says without force. “But yeah. It’s about Percy." She pauses thoughtfully. "It seems like it’s always about Percy.”
Luke throws an easy arm around Annabeth’s shoulders, tugging her into his side. “Then make it not about Percy. If that’s what you want, I mean.”
And there’s the rub. Annabeth groans, pressing her eyes into Luke’s chest.
“I wish I knew what I wanted,” Annabeth says, voice muffled by Luke’s shirt. For a moment, things feel extraordinarily normal, as if Luke had never betrayed her and left Camp Half-Blood. Jason walks by the two of them and the moment is broken: Annabeth moves back, away from Luke.
“I don’t know if you’ll believe me when I say this, but I want to see you happy, Annabeth,” Luke sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. “If Percy can’t make you happy anymore, find someone else who will. I hate to see you all… pine-y.”
“Pine-y?” Annabeth laughs. “Are you calling me prickly, Castellan?” Though the message stated is clear, all it does is cloud Annabeth’s thoughts with images of another blonde boy she knows.
Jason enters Annabeth’s tent purposefully, with a mission in mind, but all his intentions melt away when he sees her: knees bunched up, concentrating hard on the pile of plans before her, brow furrowed, fingers drumming against her calves.
“Hey,” he says, ducking into the tent. Annabeth, startled, claws for her knife, and then relaxes. “Sorry to interrupt,” he adds, and she shrugs, brushing the papers in front of her to the side.
"Nah, it's okay," Annabeth says kindly. "I should probably stop soon. Just can't get this damn maneuver to work in my head."
Jason brushes the diagram before her away and sits in front of her, waiting in silence for... for what, exactly? Jason didn't know. They stay quiet as Annabeth clears her throat and lets out an uneasy breath.
"We need to talk," Jason finally says, breaking the silence. "I need to know where you stand. Where we stand." He clenches his hands tightly in frustration. "Have I been imagining things here, Annabeth? Have I been that deluded?"
Annabeth's eyebrows raise in concern, and she shakes her head back and forth. A knot Jason hadn't known was there unfurls within the pit of his stomach.
"Well," Jason says. "Well good, then. I guess." Another long pause.
“My fatal flaw is pride, Jason,” Annabeth tells him at last, hand dancing across his knee. Jason feels electrified by her touch. He senses as if the two of them are on the edge of something greater: something intense and aching and incredible. “I want to build something that lasts across time. It’s part of why I was so honored to be Olympus’s architect: there, I had the chance to build an eternal paradise. To create things that would never die.”
She sighs. “I want what I had-have… with Percy to last forever, too,” she says, apologetic eyes staring through him. “That’s why I have to try. And why this,” she says, glancing away, “whatever this is, has to stop.” Jason for a moment feels as though the floor has gone out from under him... Annabeth, however, continues dancing her fingers on and around his knee, and Jason’s confusion begins to mount. On one hand, she is cutting him off with her words, but her touch remains a constant reminder of her simultaneous desire for him.
Now it’s time to fight for what I want, Jason decides.
“Annabeth,” he murmurs, entwining her fingers with his, rubbing a strong thumb against the back of her hand. “What if he never remembers?”
Annabeth’s eyes shine. “He’ll remember. And if he doesn’t, we can begin again.”
“You don’t deserve that kind of heartbreak,” Jason murmurs, scooting closer to her so that their torsos are nearly touching. “You deserve the world, and I can give that to you. With me, you wouldn’t have to begin again. With me, you could just… live. I care about you, Annabeth. Not eventually: today. I care about you right now. And you don’t have to work for it: you already have my love.” The words pour out now, and Jason almost feels as if he’s summoning a lightning bolt or flying through the air: that’s the same kind of power he feels surging through his body.
Annabeth says nothing. Jason leans in and presses his nose against Annabeth’s neck, lifting her mass of blonde curls up to kiss her throat. She sighs in response, and Jason brings himself to her lips. He does not lean forward, however: he cannot let her be the passive one now. It takes a moment of quiet stillness, but then Annabeth presses her lips against his own, and the whole world is falling away: there is no quest, no impending doom, no amnesia, no questions… there is just Annabeth, and the way her breath fogs up his thoughts, and her arms around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist.
Her touch makes him burn, and his heart beats fast now, adrenaline pumping through his veins as though he is in the heat of battle. He finds the hem of her shirt and lets his hands find their way beneath it. He claws at the skin of her back, clutching her to his chest. Annabeth’s fingers thread through Jason’s hair, then drop to yank his shirt above his head… and then he is shirtless and laying her down on the floor of the tent. He hovers above her, forearms on the ground on each side of her chest, lips running across her collarbone.
“Jason,” she heaves breathlessly. “Please…” His thigh finds its way between her legs so that their limbs thread together seamlessly. She groans and arches her hips upward against him, and Jason moans in turn. It’s nearly too much, the scene of Annabeth beneath him, writhing in pleasure. It’s too perfect.
Too perfect. The moment Jason thinks it, Annabeth’s expression slides from ecstasy to blankness.
“Annabeth?” Jason murmurs. “What’s wrong?”
She turns her head to the side, staring at the side of the tent.
"No," Jason whispers. "Don't do this. Don't." But she does not make eye contact with him until Jason slowly removes himself from their entanglement.
At last, Annabeth draws away from him, shaking her head.
"I can't," she says. "I can't, I can't do this-"
"You can't what, Annabeth?" Jason says, anger now in his voice. "You can't be happy? Is that it?"
Annabeth's eyes flash aggressively, and the two seethe at each other for a heated moment. Annabeth brushes her hair back and evenly inhales and exhales, attempting to calm down.
“I’m too old for you, Grace… and your sister would probably kill me in my sleep,” Annabeth finally jokes, but her voice is choked and stifled.
Jason’s chest feels constricted, like he can barely breath. “Don’t-don’t joke about this, Annabeth,” he manages, his hand palming his own chest.
Annabeth’s eyes gaze mournfully at him. She gives him back his shirt, and he pulls it on wordlessly. He stands up and goes to leave before the emotions bottled up inside him can erupt. He cannot tell if it’s rage or grief driving him out the tent now. He supposes it doesn’t matter.
“It could have been you,” she tells him softly. Jason stops in his tracks but does not turn to face her. “If we had grown up together in the same way Percy and I did… well, you’ve got that spark.”
“Son of Jupiter, occupational hazard,” Jason says, voice void of emotion.
“Now who’s joking,” Annabeth prods back hesitantly, but in a moment, Jason is gone, out into the darkness of the campsite, leaving her alone in her self-proclaimed Tent of Athena, surrounded by crumpled paper and an overwhelming desire to punch something.