Forgive Me, First Love (2/?) | Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus | PG13
Title: Forgive Me, First Love (2/?)
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
Spoilers: For The Lost Hero.
Word Count: 7500
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: I have to thank the always lovely, charming, gloriously intelligent beta that is angel_2606. Even when I make the least amount of sense (which is normal for me, I suppose), she manages to kick my butt and force me to make actual story out of my extravagant flailing. Without her, I don't know what I'd do! Huge hugs in her direction.
Part 1 is over yonder.
Jason and Annabeth stick to each other like glue for the next few weeks. Annabeth begins to take his presence for granted: he’s there when she falls asleep, snoozing peacefully, and when she wakes up, preparing for the day. She takes advantage of their living situation: lying from her (really his) bed, she can watch him dress in comfortable silence.
This morning, for instance, he pulls off the shirt that he slept in in one slick motion, revealing a tan back with a few white scars that contrast with his sun-soaked skin pleasantly. Annabeth watches as his muscles move under one of the white lines that runs across his shoulder blade; she pulls the covers up to her chin and waits for him to turn around. All the while, Annabeth cannot help but feel guilt and mortification at taking pleasure out of seeing Jason half naked. She should be in the cabin of a different boy, half (or even fully) naked with him.
Jason interrupts her thought process by turning toward her at long last: his jeans hang on his hipbones, and his chest remains blessedly free from clothing.
“Morning,” he mumbles with a smile. Horrified that he caught her staring, Annabeth manages the quiet reply, “Morning,” before turning her head away.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, a light blush on his cheeks. For a moment, Annabeth thinks she can detect a hint of amusement in his eyes, followed by something else: desire. The revelation makes Annabeth’s head light for a moment, and she sits up, unnerved.
“Come on,” he says, throwing some of his clothes at her: a purple tee-shirt and a pair of ripped up jeans. She tugs them on haphazardly, trying to ignore his eyes boring into the back of her neck. When she takes off her sleep tank top, she turns away from him and lets the shirt fall to the floor. Annabeth sends up a little prayer to Aphrodite, thanking her for reminding her to wear her nice black bra yesterday. She hears Jason inhale sharply, and it sends a little shiver of pleasure up her spine. Then the guilt sets in. She tugs the shirt over her head, angry at how easily her body could be manipulated.
“We’ve got to meet with the Roman crew for breakfast,” she tells him curtly. He nods and they walk out of Cabin One together.
The guilt of leading Jason Grace on is not nearly enough motivation for Annabeth to send him away. They have never kissed, but their togetherness remains Camp Half-Blood’s worst-kept secret. There are those who know Annabeth and of her devotion to Percy-they believe that Annabeth and Jason have just become good friends, because they cannot believe the alternative. Others less inclined to give Annabeth the benefit of the doubt are more accusatory: Annabeth has heard words like “slut” and “whore” coughed in her direction a couple of times. Needless to say, the entire Athena cabin has her back-in both instances, the perpetrators were found the next day tied upside down to a tree, with the word “LIAR” scrawled across their foreheads. Annabeth had chastised her cabin later that day, but very halfheartedly.
Throughout most of the preliminary meetings, Annabeth is not seen without another tall blond by her side, or leaning over her shoulder: Jason watches the proceedings in silent observation. He doesn’t have much to add to the conversation, as a lot of the tactics are a bit over his head. What he does recognize is that the Romans don’t respect Annabeth, and that Annabeth has had it with trying to convince them that, despite her vagina, she can still construct a wicked plan of attack.
The Roman leaders worked their way out of the fray fairly quickly: Percy, of course, remained at the head of the pack, but another boy, slightly older than Percy, with black hair and a moody disposition, makes his voice heard at nearly all the war meetings: Derek Porter. Annabeth sizes him up pretty easily: slightly cruel, but ultimately too good at his job to be chastised. He’s a son of Mars and lets everybody know it.
Another Roman leader is a daughter of Bacchus named Gwendolyn Doyle; she’s not quite looked up to in the same way Percy and Derek are, but she has a quick tongue and a sharp wit Annabeth is frankly surprised to see. At first, she determines that Gwendolyn is someone that she could potentially like, but then she sees the little looks Percy gives her from time to time-full of intimate tenderness-and Annabeth decides that she hates the girl entirely. One time, when Percy actually squeezed Gwen’s hand over the table, Annabeth fully excused herself to contain her jealousy. Jason had followed her outside the room, full of concern, and Annabeth had shooed him away; furious at Percy, furious at her situation, and furious at herself.
Today, as with many other days, Annabeth finds breakfast tasteless and cold. She pushes her food around her plate and finally decides that it’s not worth the battle to stomach it down.
“I’m going to go check out the Argo II, if anyone wants to come with me,” she announces to the table. For a moment, everyone looks at Jason, whose mouth is full of eggs. A familiar voice clears his throat from the edge of the table.
“I’d love to see it,” Percy Jackson tells her with a cocksure smile. Annabeth’s stomach twists inadvertently. She waves him on with more confidence than she actually feels and the two walk toward the dock together.
Watching the boat crest over the horizon is a magnificent sight to see; it takes Annabeth’s breath away, and she can see that Percy is also awed.
“Whoa,” he tells her. “This is incredible.”
“Wait until you see the cannons that shoot Greek fire,” she says with a smile. The look on his face is priceless: Percy’s grin is broad and genuine, like a kid in a candy shop. “Let me see if I can get Leo to take us around. Maybe they’ll actually let me help out for once.”
The Hephaestus cabin had as of yet been notorious touchy about who they allowed to work on the Argo II: Annabeth had offered multiple times to assist, but Leo had insisted at the time that “No one touches my baby unless you’re a Cabin Nine-r.” Since the sons and daughters of Vulcan had arrived, things had changed. Things seemed to be going along twice as quickly with twice the manpower. The Roman and Greek kids of Hephaestus/Vulcan actually seemed to get along, once they discovered their interests were pretty similar.
She can see Leo at a distance, holding a massive clipboard, wearing a slightly-too-big yellow hardhat that rests atop his mass of black curls. Annabeth’s fondness for him has grown throughout his time at Camp Half-Blood. She waves at him jovially and he greets the two of them, a confused expression briefly flickering across his face as he sees Percy.
“Howdy, Leo,” Annabeth says in greeting. “Any chance you could give us a tour?” In a stage whisper, she adds, “Percy would really like to see the cannons.”
The way that Percy’s face lights up when he steps onto the deck of the ship almost feels like old times. Annabeth beams at his awed expression as Leo proudly explains the intricacies of the ship. The way that Percy catches Annabeth as she slips on something suspiciously like motor oil and Tabasco sauce… it feels like it could be a year ago. Annabeth savors the morning.
Meanwhile, the red-haired girl sits down next to Jason at the breakfast table without a greeting-just a glare that could probably cut glass.
“Can I help you?” he asks her. He only recognizes her when she speaks.
“Jason Grace, gods help me, I thought you’d have a bit more to say to your girlfriend,” Reyna hisses at him, anger flaring.
She’s not a daughter of Mars for nothing, Jason muses.
“Reyna,” he breathes.
“Not one Iris Message?” she says, eyes flicking toward Annabeth and Percy walking away in the distance. “Well… you move on quick, don’t you?”
Jason is conflicted: on the one hand, he knows that before the exchange, he really loved Reyna. Like-really, deeply, truly. On the other hand, he knows that right now, he feels anger at her assumptions. Jason chooses to ignore her comment about Annabeth and hunkers down.
“You have no idea what the hell I’ve been through,” Jason says, rage boiling inside him. “I have battled my way across the country, not knowing who I was or where I came from… I killed scores of Earthborn, werewolves, even a giant. I tackled the king of the giants with my bare hands. That’s a lot to gloss over, Reyna.” Suddenly, the anger dissipates. “Damn,” he remembers with a smile. “You always did know how to get me riled up.” He stands and starts walking away from her-she’s not worth his temper.
For a moment, Reyna looks at him like she wants to jump his bones right at the breakfast table; then, just as suddenly, her expression turns icy. Reyna hops up from the table and runs after him.
“I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me-a faithless son of Jupiter.”
It’s as if she’s just stabbed an ice pick in his gut. Jason feels all the air go out of him, his mouth dropping open slightly. He turns in place to face her. Reyna looks a little remorseful, as if she knows that with those words, she’s potentially lost Jason forever.
“Jason,” she starts, attempting some sorry attempt at an apology, or whatever-Jason is not interested. The words had cut him deeply. “Jason, I’m-”
“Reyna, I’m not the guy you fell in love with,” he tells her frankly, not really in the mood to spare her feelings. “Not anymore. Too much has changed for me to just fall back in line-”
“Fall back in love, Jason. We were in love,” Reyna cuts in softly, her words clearly reflecting a broken heart.
“This is hard, I know...” Jason says in a cool voice that he knows doesn’t suit him. Reyna cuts him off before he can cause any more damage.
“No, Jason, you don’t know!” she growls, eyes glittering with wetness. “Or you wouldn’t be doing this to me!”
She looks away as she wipes her eyes. He averts his gaze, allowing her what little privacy he could. Even with his lack of memories, he could vaguely recall her hatred for crying. He hates himself for making her shed tears because of him. When he puts a hand over her knuckles, she breathes a sigh of hopeful relief, covering his hand with her own. Jason retrieves his hand, unnerved at their intimacy.
“Either we start over or you’re going to lose me, Reyna,” Jason warns her. “I can’t just get back to where we were. I’m not there.”
“What if I’m not willing to start over?” Reyna asks him angrily. “What if I don’t want to throw away years of my life because of your… dalliances?”
“Then I’m gone,” Jason tells her, standing up. He hates this conversation-having put it off for so long, it's become all the more potent.
“Seems like you’ve already made your choice. Seems like you’re already gone,” Reyna says, her eyes small slits of anger.
A weight lifts from Jason’s shoulders as he walks away from her. It feels good-like he can breathe again.
Annabeth drops her muddy armor at the foot of her bed. She’s covered in sweat from the day, and she’s certain she smells absolutely vile. Groaning from a long and hard day’s work, she begins peeling off layers of dirty clothing and letting them fall in a pile on the floor. She’s half naked when Jason enters Cabin One, looking about as exhausted as she feels. Once he sees her state of nakedness, Jason perks up a bit.
“Whoa, sorry,” he stammers, turning on the spot. Annabeth sighs; she’s thankful she still has her underwear on. Wrapping a towel around herself, she deems herself decent and tells Jason to turn around. When Jason lays eyes upon her again, he remains on edge.
“Annabeth,” he says to the silence between them, refusing to make eye contact with her.
Her throat tightens. No, she thinks. I’m not ready for this conversation. Jason’s face, however, says that he is.
“Can I shower first?” she pleads. “I promise… we’ll talk.” He hesitates before nodding, and she quickly grabs her things for a shower and bolts out door before he can change his mind.
She lets the water run over her until the water runs cold. When she finally gets out of the stall, she has to be mindful to not take any more time, knowing that Jason's waiting and will come looking for her if she starts taking too long. Thoughts of what she would say to him were on her mind the entire time she showered, and continued to be as she made her way back to Cabin One. She pushes the door open to see that Jason is sitting on his bed with his head in his heads, waiting for her.
“What is it we’re doing, here, Annabeth?” he asks her uncertainly as she sits down across from him, still wet from the shower. She clutches at the white towel, feeling very exposed. Usually, Jason would throw her a shirt of his to sleep in, but right now… well, he seems very intent on an answer from her.
“Jason,” she sighs, running a hand through her damp hair.
“I just want to know... what you think we are. Are we together?” he asks her, the words out in the open at last. She locks eyes with him. “I mean, we’re together all the time,” he rambles, trying to put off the moment that she puts him down. “And everyone seems to think it already. And I…”
“Let me stop you there,” Annabeth says, hand outstretched. “First things first: without you, Jason Grace, I could not have gotten through this past month. When I was weak, you made sure no one else saw. You gave me the strength to face my past and overcome it.” She feels genuine affection for Jason. She just doesn’t know if that’s the same as loving him.
“Don’t you feel like there’s something… wrong? About this?” she asks him plaintively.
“What are you talking about?” Jason asks her immediately-but his eyes betray him: they hold both longing and fear.
“Don’t you think that we’re both meant for… this is going to sound weird,” Annabeth admits unhappily, “but, meant for something better?”
“So you’re settling for me,” Jason says in a blank voice.
“Jason, no,” she says, frustrated. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?” he asks her. “Just-you need to decide between us before it tears me apart.” Annabeth is certain that he’s talking about choosing between him and Percy, and that’s a choice she’s not prepared to make.
He stands up, and in a quick movement, presses a soft kiss into Annabeth’s damp hair. Then he heads for the door.
“Where are you going?” she asks him.
“I need to cool off,” he tells her. “And you need to think about actually answering my question. It doesn’t have to be tonight-” He cuts off her wide eyes and scared expression. “Just... soon. You can’t keep us hanging on the edge forever, Annabeth. Either we’re both going to fall, or I’m going down alone.”
Jason is sitting against a log, watching Annabeth spar against her cabin-mate Malcolm, when Percy sits down next to him.
“Hey, man,” he says with a friendly grin. Jason lifts up a hand in recognition and smiles slightly. They both sit in comfortable silence, watching Annabeth beat Malcolm into a pulp: it’s not that Malcolm is bad, per se, but Annabeth fights like the hellhounds of Hades spur her every move.
“She’s pretty incredible,” Percy states, less as an opinion and more as a fact.
Jason nods.
“Can I ask you something-about her?” Percy says, turning his body slightly toward Jason and away from the fighting before them. Jason straightens his back. He can smell something metallic in the air, a portent of something that’s about to happen. He can taste his world falling apart and there’s nothing he can do about it.
Jason nods.
“She keeps… looking at me,” Percy says, struggling to find the question he actually wants the answer to. “Like I’m supposed to do something. Like… she knows something about me that is so obvious that I’ve managed to miss it completely.” Percy is looking down at his hands when Jason finally answers with a sigh.
“Did no one tell you?” Jason asks Percy. Percy shakes his head, eyes wide. Jason runs a hand up the back of his neck, wanting to do the exact opposite of what he knew he had to do. “You’re in love. I mean-you were, before the exchange happened. Boyfriend and girlfriend and all that jazz-" Jason stops talking when Percy lets out a long, low breath.
“Wow,” Percy says.
“Yeah,” Jason agrees.
They both return to watching Annabeth. Jason can feel Percy’s eyes flick every so often back to him.
“Looks like I’m not the only one in love,” Percy murmurs. Jason’s head turns sharply toward Percy, who eyes him warily. Jason looks at Percy with apologetic eyes.
“She still loves you, man,” Jason admits. It’s a thought he’s entertained for a while: the idea that even while she spends the day with him, Jason, she’s thinking about Percy Jackson, the boy she loved and lost. It’s only when he actually says the words to Percy that he starts to believe them. “I just want to see her be happy again.”
“She seems pretty happy with you,” Percy floats out there. Jason shrugs in response.
“She’s not really with me,” he says truthfully. “When we’re together, alone… she’s not. There, I mean... mentally. She’s definitely not happy.” It feels good to lay it all out on the line, Jason realizes. “But thanks, dude.” Jason pauses. “Are you ready to make her happy again?” he asks Percy.
Percy looks at him with a torn expression on his face. Jason knows the feeling well.
“When I woke up on a bus in the middle of the Grand Canyon,” Jason begins, “the Mist provided feelings for the people around me that I assumed to be real. This girl, Piper…” Jason grins harshly in remembrance. “She’s the daughter of Aphrodite that spoke to you Romans when you arrived. She’s pretty incredible, too. But the Mist-it made me think we were… together.” Percy nods knowingly.
“There’s a girl that came with me,” Percy starts. “Gwen. Well… let’s just say, the Mist did a number on me, too.”
They return to watching Annabeth knock the stuffing out of Malcolm.
“Me and her?” Percy asks once again, almost in shock at his past luck. Jason lets out a small chuckle.
“Yep,” Jason assures, his voice full of false bravado.
“Damn,” Percy says, impressed.
They decide who the boat’s passengers will be after weeks of heated arguing: Jason, Piper, and Leo all had spots before the Romans even arrived in New York, but that left four more spots. One of the spots Jason had previously offered to Annabeth, so the number dropped to three. The Romans remain disgruntled at the three to one ratio, but were somewhat calmed when Chiron pleasantly reminded them that Jason was technically a Castra camper.
Percy goes, Lupa demands when the time came for selection from the Roman side. No one objected.
“I would like to put my name in for consideration,” Gwen says, eyes darting to her fellow Romans.
“As would I,” Reyna adds. “I’m prepared to die with honor in battle. Are you?” Reyna directs the question at Annabeth, who doesn’t deign her with a response.
“As… quaint as it is to see the women step up,” Derek says, clearing his throat, “I think that the choice is clear: I need to be in the convoy.”
Percy glances at Derek with a look that Annabeth can tell holds a significant amount of contempt. Gritting his teeth, however, Percy agrees with Derek. “Derek should come. He’s an excellent fighter and strategist. He can hold his own.” Percy says his last sentence while looking Gwen in the eye; she inhales sharply and then backs off mysteriously.
“I believe Derek to be a better contender than I for the quest,” Gwen mutters. “May I be excused?”
Gwen leaves before Percy can get another word in edgewise. Percy sighs and turns to Annabeth.
“Gwen was on a quest a couple years ago with this kid named Jack London,” Percy tells Annabeth in a low voice. “He got eaten by some Cyclopes in Detroit. Gwen never really trusted herself after that. It’s a pity, because she’s got tremendous potential…” Percy looks genuinely sorry that Gwen will not be joining them for the quest. Annabeth feels a guilty pleasure at the evening’s turn of events, in spite of her dislike of Derek.
“So we have our players,” Chiron says, turning to Rachel, who sits at the head of the table in quiet contemplation. “From Camp Half-Blood, we have Piper, Leo, and Annabeth. From the Castra, we have Reyna and Derek. And from… the in between, let’s say? We have Jason and Percy. You leave in three weeks, on the solstice.”
Jason and Annabeth are walking back toward Cabin One when they hear the fighting. Annabeth is the first to react, starting at a run while Jason practically stumbles over a tree root in pursuit. Little scuffles have been happening all over camp since the Roman campers arrived: a son of Mercury thinks that a daughter of Hecate cheated at cards, and half a dozen kids are fighting each other in the middle of the quad. Unfortunately, instead of throwing sticks and stones, because of the nature of Camp Half-Blood, campers have taken to raiding the armory for weapons to use. The worst had happened when a son of Mars had shoved a spear through a son of Apollo’s thigh: Lupa stepped in and declared the camp a DMZ, warning the campers that she would be the one to dole out punishments in the future for in-fighting. The head counselors had since taken it upon themselves to try and break up the fights that did crop up.
Annabeth and Jason screech to a halt in front of a group of what looks to be Aphrodite children and… children of Mars? Jason’s eyes widen in shock: Aphrodite and Ares were known for their eons long affair behind Hephaestus’s back. It is more than a little shocking to see their children duke it out.
“Oh, perfect,” says a horribly familiar voice: Reyna. “Now you can see the damage you’ve caused.”
“Shut up,” says another horribly familiar voice: Piper. Jason wishes he could disappear.
“Jason,” Annabeth murmurs in his ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
“If you’re thinking that this is a lover’s quarrel, I really hope it’s not,” Jason says, a deep blush reddening his cheeks in an absurdly adorable way. Annabeth smiles sweetly at him, briefly forgetting their surroundings.
Reyna gags in the background.
“Well, it figures that neither of us would get him in the end,” she announces to the group of warring teens. “Well played, daughter of Athena. Well played.”
“Annabeth,” Piper calls out, letting her dagger fall to her side. “Are you-are you really with him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Annabeth says reflexively. Jason flinches as if she’d physically slapped him.
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re not together? Or, don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re together, haven’t you seen us hanging all over each other for the past three months?” Piper asks coolly. Annabeth opens and closes her mouth before addressing the group as a whole.
“If I catch you fighting again, for whatever reason, I’m bringing you to Lupa,” she announces. “Enough’s enough. We’re at war, kids. We don’t need to injure our soldiers in advance. I’m sure the giants and the Earthborn and all the other horrible things that want to kill us will do the job well enough.”
Annabeth walks away from the sobered campers with a scowl on her face.
“I hear you broke up quite the outburst yesterday,” an amused voice says from behind. “How eventful.”
“I know you’re jealous,” Annabeth grins as Percy sits down next to her. “I got real sassy with them.” The Dionysus cabin is going over supplies for the voyage, and Annabeth is overseeing them (read: making sure they pack more than merely enough barrels of wine to get an elephant drunk)… or, she was overseeing them. Now? Now she is flirting with her former boyfriend. Go figure.
“A shame I had to miss that,” Percy grins mirthfully. He looks down at her-how that boy had managed to grow another couple inches while Annabeth would never know-and in a single glance, Annabeth knew that he knew.
“So who told you?” Annabeth asks nonchalantly, though she can feel herself tingling with excitement: maybe he remembers, maybe he remembers.
The answer is far less exciting: “Jason told me,” Percy admits, embarrassed.
Annabeth feels her eyes fill with unbidden tears; blaming her hormones, she curses herself silently for crying so much in these past few months. “Does crying make it better?” her dad had once asked her after a playmate had smashed a Lego city Annabeth had created. Annabeth had shaken her head from side to side at the time. “Then why do it at all?” That had been her mantra for years: if it doesn’t help, don’t do it. But the tears come in spite of all logic, in spite of reason.
“Do you remember… anything?” she asks softly, eyes averted.
“I remember a Minotaur,” he says quietly. Annabeth feels the tension between them rise. “I haven’t told anyone besides you about that.”
“You battled the Minotaur when you first came to Camp Half-Blood,” Annabeth muses, remembering the battered eleven-year-old she had nursed back to health. “It’s a start.”
“There are other things, too,” Percy adds, keen to keep her attention. “Lots of blue. And I think I remember my mom. Sally, I think. I get these bits and pieces…more since we came here. Since I moved into the Poseidon cabin.”
Annabeth nods. “What about… us?” she asks, hoping for one answer but expecting another.
“I’m sorry,” Percy says in a pained voice. “I wish I could tell you something different, but that would be a lie. Something about you tells me you wouldn’t appreciate that.” He smiles a sad half-smile, shuffling a little closer to her. “There’s nothing fair about what happened to us, Annabeth.” He punctuates his sentence by touching her cheek with the back of his hand. “But if I never remembered anything about our past together… Would you be willing to start again?”
Annabeth inhales Percy’s scent: he’s so close to her she can nearly taste him.
“I loved you so much Percy,” Annabeth sighs, melting into his touch, “that I don’t know if starting over will make me whole again or rip me apart.”
Jason is asleep when the camp security system goes off: it consists of a protective field that Leo installed after a couple of monsters had gotten past the magical border and nearly eaten a young girl from the Hermes cabin. Jason has only ever heard it go off during regularly scheduled tests, but now, at four thirty in the morning, Jason is about ninety-nine percent sure that this is not a test… and the other one percent is ready to kick Leo’s ass if it is. Sirens inside Cabin One blare incessantly as Annabeth springs up from her bed.
“Intruders?” she asks, flinging on shoes as Jason quickly arms himself.
“Dunno,” he mutters, “but let’s go and find out.”
They both run out of the cabin and manage to nearly collide with Percy Jackson, who looks alert and ready for a fight, even though the hair on the back of his head is standing straight up. Annabeth rolls her eyes at Percy before bolting, leaving the two boys running in her wake.
There are a few people gathered near the forest when Jason, Percy, and Annabeth arrive. Clarisse has her electric spear pointed into the darkness before them. It crackles menacingly in the hushed quiet, and Jason finds himself glad that it’s not pointed at him.
“What is it?” Annabeth breathes, directing her question at Clarisse, who shakes her head, just nodding toward the forest.
Jason can dimly see a shadow moving towards them. Drawing his sword, Jason looks over at Percy and sees that he’s done the same with Riptide. Annabeth, daggers gleaming in the moonlight, steps forward, ready to attack.
When the figure at last stumbles into the clearing, Annabeth drops her blades.
“Luke?” she gasps. A tall, blonde haired boy steps unsteadily into the moonlit grass before them. He looks terrible: his left eye is blackened, as if someone had recently sucker-punched him. He has cuts all over his forearms, and his orange t-shirt has a blood stain on its side, as if he’d been stabbed.
“Heard you guys are starting a war,” Luke breathes. “Can I enlist?”
Luke manages one more staggering step forward before falling flat on his face, as though he’d just been knocked out cold.
“Shot not carrying that back to the Big House,” Clarisse declares, putting a hand on her nose. Annabeth gives Clarisse a quizzical look.
“'That'?” she asks.
Clarisse shrugs her shoulders and begins the trek back. “You know as well as I do that that’s not the Luke who died last summer,” she says without looking backwards. “Look at his face.”
Annabeth kneels at Luke’s head, which is face down in the grass. Turning it sideways, she lets out a small gasp.
“What is it, Annabeth?” Jason asks, confused.
“The scar,” Annabeth murmurs, still holding Luke’s unconscious head in her hands. She presses her fingers across the young man’s forehead and then down, across his eye and to his cheek, as if she expected to feel something abnormal beneath her fingertips. “It’s gone.”
“This is most troubling,” Chiron grumbles, glancing at the demigods gathered around him. Luke had been sequestered in the basement of the big house, guarded by Argus, the head of Camp Half-Blood’s security. The sun has just risen over the Long Island Sound, but everyone in the room has long been wide awake.
“Is it him, Chiron?” Annabeth asks. “He doesn’t have the scar anymore.”
“Oh, it’s Luke Castellan, alright,” Chiron answers. Annabeth lets out an audible sigh of relief.
“I’m confused,” Jason announces. “Who is this guy?” he asks, directing his question to Chiron.
“Luke Castellan was a counselor here at Camp Half-Blood for many years,” Chiron says sadly. “He came to camp with Annabeth and your sister, Thalia. There was… an attack. Thalia sacrificed herself to save Luke and Annabeth. She was, for a few years, turned into a tree as a repercussion of her sacrifice.”
Jason stares at Chiron blankly. “Turned into a what?”
“Four years ago, Clarisse laid the Golden Fleece upon the tree, and Thalia was transformed back into a girl,” Chiron continues, ignoring Jason’s outburst. “But back to Luke. He trained rigorously here at camp, determined to earn his father’s approval.”
“He’s a son of Hermes,” Percy breathes. Everyone freezes.
“You remember?” Annabeth asks.
“He was the best swordsman at camp,” Percy continues. “He had this sword-Backbiter.” Percy’s eyes narrow. “He betrayed us.” Now Percy turns to Chiron, ablaze with emotion. “So why haven’t we had him hanged, drawn, and quartered yet?”
“Percy,” Annabeth starts, but Percy interrupts her.
“Luke allowed Kronos to rise,” Percy growls. “He captured you, Annabeth.” Jason watches as the memories seem to flood through Percy-years of moments connected with one person: Luke Castellan. “Beckendorf and Silena are dead because of him. So many are dead because of him. And Thalia-”
Jason’s ears perk up again at the sound of his sister’s name. A sinking feeling in his stomach signals that perhaps Thalia’s relationship with Luke hadn’t been strictly platonic. When Luke had turned evil, well… Jason could only imagine the grief she must have felt, after losing everyone else that she’d ever cared for. No wonder she’d joined the Hunters.
Jason can feel rage boiling inside his chest-a fraternal protectiveness that strikes him as a bizarre novelty.
“He died a hero,” Annabeth growls in Luke’s defense. “He stabbed himself in Kronos’ weak spot. He saved us, Percy. Don’t you remember that?”
Percy’s silence is answer enough.
“Trust me, then,” Chiron interrupts, “Luke did die a hero.”
“If he’s so dead,” Clarisse drawls, “then how is he, you know, in our basement.”
“I have a few theories,” Chiron replies.
“Care to share?” Clarisse prods.
“It all goes back to the Great Prophecy,” Chiron begins, pressing the tips of his fingers together. “The ‘Doors of Death’ have been opened. You saw this on your quest, Jason, with your encounters with Medea and King Midas. Luke, it seems to me, has broken free from the Underworld to join the battle.”
“But what about the scar?” Annabeth asks.
“My guess is only a guess,” Chiron sighs, “but I believe that Luke’s form, once in the Underworld, was not the one he died with. I believe,” he says, looking toward the dark haired boy in the corner of the room, “that he kept the form he believed in most. The body he had before he went on his quest. Before he was scarred.”
Jason turned his head toward Nico, who had remained characteristically silent throughout the morning’s proceedings.
“It happens,” Nico admits to the group. “For most of the dead, they see themselves as the image they die with, and thus their spirits manifest themselves accordingly. Some never give up on the unmarred nature of their youth. Luke must never have truly accepted his scar.”
“I’m a little lost,” Percy admits.
“It means that Luke’s come back in the body he desired so desperately during his brief time on earth after his first and final quest,” Chiron explains. “And that means that his body is around the age of seventeen.”
“And his mind?” Annabeth murmurs.
“I cannot say anything until I speak with him,” Chiron tells her gently. “Which is why I must ask that you all leave now.” Chiron walks away from the group of troubled demigods towards the basement door.
“I don’t like this,” Clarisse hisses. Jason and Percy glance at each other, signaling a mutual distrust. Nico looks disgruntled, as Luke’s appearance desecrates his father’s power even more than the Romans had by dismissing him as part of the Big Three. Annabeth merely sits down in a chair and breathes.
A small group of Hunters arrive two days after Luke’s reappearance. Thalia leads them.
“Where is he,” she demands, approaching Annabeth in the middle of campus. “Where. Is. He?”
“Thalia,” Annabeth gasps. “I sent you that Iris Message yesterday afternoon, how did you get here so quickly-you said you were in Utah-”
“Annabeth, so help me gods, if you don’t tell me where he is in the next five seconds…” Thalia growls menacingly.
Annabeth shudders at the glint in the Hunter’s eye.
“He’s by your tree,” she says. Thalia turns on the spot and starts marching toward Half-Blood Hill, Annabeth trailing behind her.
“You!” Thalia shouts, pointing to the figure standing at the top of the hill. “Luke Castellan, when I get my hands on you, you’re gonna wish you were still dead!”
That last remark certainly gets quite a few people’s attention: a small crowd begins to gather at the foot of the hill. From amongst them, Jason emerges, radiating intense anger similar to his sister’s. Behind him are Percy and Nico, who, likewise, look rather ticked off : the deluge of blame has begun. They all reach the top quickly, surrounding Luke in a semi-circle. Slowly other campers begin to creep up the hill-Roman and Greek alike-until the crowd is fully formed around them. The showdown begins.
“Guys,” Annabeth pleads. “He’s been through enough-”
“Stop, Annabeth,” Luke says quietly. His eyes are glued to Thalia, who seems to radiate rage and frustration like it’s her job.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” Thalia seethes. “First, I’m a tree. I sacrifice myself to save your sorry ass, and then-oh boy, does it get better. You betray us? Betray me?” Thalia draws her bow, cocks an arrow, and aims it straight at Luke’s heart. “I should kill you right now.”
“Do it,” he says softly. “I deserve it. Kill me. Send me back.”
Thalia closes one eye, as if to aim more precisely, and then slackens her grip on the bow in defeat. “I can’t,” she murmurs. Jason steps forward now, as do Nico and Percy.
“Well I damn well can,” Jason says, sword pointed straight at Luke’s heart.
“Who the hell are you?” Luke breathes, eyes wide with confusion.
“Jason Grace, Thalia’s brother, son of Jupiter, here to send you back to Hell,” Jason rattles off.
“Hades,” Nico corrects. “Back to Hades.”
“Whatever,” Jason says, his confidence faltering a little.
“You’ve got a brother?” Luke asks Thalia. She nods curtly. “Seems like I’ve missed a lot.” Luke and Thalia lock eyes for a brief moment, but the glance is electric, like a lightning strike.
“You look younger,” Thalia breathes.
“You look immortal,” Luke replies.
“Comes with the gig,” she laughs, but Annabeth doesn’t detect any humor in her voice. “I became a Hunter of Artemis after-well.” Thalia pauses, as if to underline something left unsaid. “I took an oath.”
Annabeth hears the sorrow in Thalia’s voice. Luke looks like he wants to hold her, but Jason’s sword prevents him from moving anywhere.
“You betrayed us once before,” Percy murmurs, stepping forward. “How do we know you won’t do it again?”
“I stabbed myself to save you ungrateful lot,” Luke laughs. “Does no one remember my final heroic act?” He says the words ironically, as if convinced that there is no connection between him and heroism anymore.
“Guys,” Annabeth says slowly. “We can’t just preemptively kill him. He deserves a chance.”
“We need to know if he’s telling the truth,” Nico suggests.
“I think I can help you there,” says a voice from the crowd: Will Solace steps forward.
“Will?” Annabeth says inquisitively. “What do you mean?”
“Well, my dad, you know,” Will says, blushing a bit. “Apollo’s the god of truth. He can’t tell a lie. And well, I can tell when people are lying. Just-this feeling, I guess. Started happening after the battle with the Titans last summer.”
“I grew up with a pet cat,” Annabeth tries.
“Lie,” Will replies. Annabeth raises her eyebrows in appreciation.
“It was a dog,” she admits.
“I slaughtered a manticore last weekend,” Thalia tries.
“True,” Will says, eyes wide. “Whoa. That’s awesome.”
“I defeated Krios,” Jason murmurs.
“True,” Will says.
“Wicked,” Nico grins. “That’s some trick, Will.” A hush quiets the crowd.
“I will never betray you again,” Luke says solemnly, addressing them all.
“True,” Will says with a smile.
“So that’s that,” Annabeth smiles, looking around at Jason, Percy, Nico, and Thalia. Annabeth feels her stomach settle around her knees as she realizes that no-it’s just the beginning. Luke would have to earn their trust back.
“Alright, show’s over,” Nico calls out to the crowd. “Get back to what you’re supposed to be doing before I set Mrs. O’Leary on you.”
“Annabeth, wait up!” a voice calls out from behind her. Annabeth is feet away from boarding the Argo II, but she recognizes the voice easily above the din of her surroundings. Turning swiftly, she sees Rachel Elizabeth Dare running toward her, red hair flying in the wind. Annabeth gives her rucksack to Jason, who looks amused at the sight of their beloved oracle, out for a jog.
“I wanted to see you off,” Rachel wheezes breathlessly upon arrival. Annabeth laughs at Rachel’s disheveled state, and Rachel pouts.
“I hoped I’d get to see you before we left; I’ll be just a minute, Jason, make sure they don’t leave without me,” Annabeth laughs, waving him onwards. Once he’s out of sight, a strange glint flickers in her eye.
“So,” Rachel says awkwardly. “You and Jason.”
Annabeth raises an eyebrow, certain that she knows where this conversation is headed. “You too, Rachel? I really don’t need this right now-”
“Hear me out, Annabeth, because I really do think this is something that you need right now,” Rachel says, parroting back Annabeth’s words. “After weeks, months of searching for Percy Jackson, and after years of knowing him, of loving him… you just let it go? I find that hard to believe.”
“Rachel, that’s not how it is,” Annabeth says defensively.
“Well, that’s how it seems to everybody else, Annabeth, so if you’d like to clue me in, I’d be obliged,” Rachel says in exasperation.
“Every second I spend with Percy breaks my heart, Rachel,” Annabeth replies bitterly. “Every moment that he doesn’t remember us, every day that he looks over me like I’m nothing to him-it hurts too much.” She hugs herself, trying to hold her composure. “Being with Jason is easy.”
“But you love Percy,” Rachel says, trying to put the pieces together.
“Always,” she says in a hurt voice. “But Jason-being with him doesn’t hurt. Well, usually.”
Rachel looks conflicted for a moment, then takes both of Annabeth’s hands in her own, keeping a tight grip upon them as if tethering her to reality, an action for which Annabeth is grateful.
“Sometimes we have to choose between what is right, and what is easy,” Rachel tells her gravely.
“Isn’t that from Harry Potter?” Annabeth laughs, but deep down, in the pit of her stomach, she knows truth when she hears it.
“Even boy wizards get it right sometimes,” Rachel smiles, letting Annabeth go.
“Wait,” Rachel calls out to Annabeth. Annabeth puts both feet on deck and looks down at Rachel expectantly. “Have you seen Luke? Chiron’s looking for him.”
“Haven’t seen him since yesterday,” Annabeth calls back, confused. Rachel shrugs and waves a final farewell before the boat begins its journey toward the open sea.
The Argo II is magnificent beyond words, though Leo takes his time explaining the minutia to anyone who’ll give him a moment of their time.
“The bunks are in the heart of the ship,” Leo tells them as they climb down from the deck. “Pretty freaking sweet, if I do say so myself.”
Annabeth has to restrain herself from gasping and inflating Leo’s ego even more than it already is, but the setup is pretty glorious. Seven hammocks hang from the ceiling, each embossed with the insignia of each demigod’s divine parentage: Annabeth can spy her hammock, with a grey eyed owl, in between a hammocks with a blue trident upon it and a hammock with a lightning bolt striking a tree.
Perfect, she groans inwardly, shooting an icy glare at Leo.
Beyond that hiccup, the rest of the room was extravagant: an armory lines the right wall, covered entirely with a variety of weapons that made even Derek drop his jaw in awe.
“Wicked,” Derek remarks in praise to Leo, clapping a strong hand on his shoulder.
There are too many other innovations to take in at once: a pool table in the corner has the boys occupied for awhile, and Annabeth finds herself quite taken with the selection of maps depicting the Greek terrain they’ll be questing through. Reyna and Derek browse the weapons immediately, trying to get first pick. Percy looks at the weapons and then down at Riptide, clearly content with his blade. Jason too looks relieved not to have to go up against Reyna or Derek for the better weapon, as the sword Juno gifted him hangs on a hook by his hammock. After perusing the ship for a few more minutes, the seven of them return to the deck of the ship. Chiron breaks a bottle of champagne against the hull of the boat before they set off.
“May the winds and waves be ever in your favor!” Chiron calls out to them as the ship leaves port. Annabeth can faintly see Nico standing in the shadows, waving at her, as if to say I’ll see you soon. With his shadow traveling abilities, Annabeth is certain that she’d be seeing him in Greece.
PART 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
Spoilers: For The Lost Hero.
Word Count: 7500
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: I have to thank the always lovely, charming, gloriously intelligent beta that is angel_2606. Even when I make the least amount of sense (which is normal for me, I suppose), she manages to kick my butt and force me to make actual story out of my extravagant flailing. Without her, I don't know what I'd do! Huge hugs in her direction.
Part 1 is over yonder.
Jason and Annabeth stick to each other like glue for the next few weeks. Annabeth begins to take his presence for granted: he’s there when she falls asleep, snoozing peacefully, and when she wakes up, preparing for the day. She takes advantage of their living situation: lying from her (really his) bed, she can watch him dress in comfortable silence.
This morning, for instance, he pulls off the shirt that he slept in in one slick motion, revealing a tan back with a few white scars that contrast with his sun-soaked skin pleasantly. Annabeth watches as his muscles move under one of the white lines that runs across his shoulder blade; she pulls the covers up to her chin and waits for him to turn around. All the while, Annabeth cannot help but feel guilt and mortification at taking pleasure out of seeing Jason half naked. She should be in the cabin of a different boy, half (or even fully) naked with him.
Jason interrupts her thought process by turning toward her at long last: his jeans hang on his hipbones, and his chest remains blessedly free from clothing.
“Morning,” he mumbles with a smile. Horrified that he caught her staring, Annabeth manages the quiet reply, “Morning,” before turning her head away.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, a light blush on his cheeks. For a moment, Annabeth thinks she can detect a hint of amusement in his eyes, followed by something else: desire. The revelation makes Annabeth’s head light for a moment, and she sits up, unnerved.
“Come on,” he says, throwing some of his clothes at her: a purple tee-shirt and a pair of ripped up jeans. She tugs them on haphazardly, trying to ignore his eyes boring into the back of her neck. When she takes off her sleep tank top, she turns away from him and lets the shirt fall to the floor. Annabeth sends up a little prayer to Aphrodite, thanking her for reminding her to wear her nice black bra yesterday. She hears Jason inhale sharply, and it sends a little shiver of pleasure up her spine. Then the guilt sets in. She tugs the shirt over her head, angry at how easily her body could be manipulated.
“We’ve got to meet with the Roman crew for breakfast,” she tells him curtly. He nods and they walk out of Cabin One together.
The guilt of leading Jason Grace on is not nearly enough motivation for Annabeth to send him away. They have never kissed, but their togetherness remains Camp Half-Blood’s worst-kept secret. There are those who know Annabeth and of her devotion to Percy-they believe that Annabeth and Jason have just become good friends, because they cannot believe the alternative. Others less inclined to give Annabeth the benefit of the doubt are more accusatory: Annabeth has heard words like “slut” and “whore” coughed in her direction a couple of times. Needless to say, the entire Athena cabin has her back-in both instances, the perpetrators were found the next day tied upside down to a tree, with the word “LIAR” scrawled across their foreheads. Annabeth had chastised her cabin later that day, but very halfheartedly.
Throughout most of the preliminary meetings, Annabeth is not seen without another tall blond by her side, or leaning over her shoulder: Jason watches the proceedings in silent observation. He doesn’t have much to add to the conversation, as a lot of the tactics are a bit over his head. What he does recognize is that the Romans don’t respect Annabeth, and that Annabeth has had it with trying to convince them that, despite her vagina, she can still construct a wicked plan of attack.
The Roman leaders worked their way out of the fray fairly quickly: Percy, of course, remained at the head of the pack, but another boy, slightly older than Percy, with black hair and a moody disposition, makes his voice heard at nearly all the war meetings: Derek Porter. Annabeth sizes him up pretty easily: slightly cruel, but ultimately too good at his job to be chastised. He’s a son of Mars and lets everybody know it.
Another Roman leader is a daughter of Bacchus named Gwendolyn Doyle; she’s not quite looked up to in the same way Percy and Derek are, but she has a quick tongue and a sharp wit Annabeth is frankly surprised to see. At first, she determines that Gwendolyn is someone that she could potentially like, but then she sees the little looks Percy gives her from time to time-full of intimate tenderness-and Annabeth decides that she hates the girl entirely. One time, when Percy actually squeezed Gwen’s hand over the table, Annabeth fully excused herself to contain her jealousy. Jason had followed her outside the room, full of concern, and Annabeth had shooed him away; furious at Percy, furious at her situation, and furious at herself.
Today, as with many other days, Annabeth finds breakfast tasteless and cold. She pushes her food around her plate and finally decides that it’s not worth the battle to stomach it down.
“I’m going to go check out the Argo II, if anyone wants to come with me,” she announces to the table. For a moment, everyone looks at Jason, whose mouth is full of eggs. A familiar voice clears his throat from the edge of the table.
“I’d love to see it,” Percy Jackson tells her with a cocksure smile. Annabeth’s stomach twists inadvertently. She waves him on with more confidence than she actually feels and the two walk toward the dock together.
Watching the boat crest over the horizon is a magnificent sight to see; it takes Annabeth’s breath away, and she can see that Percy is also awed.
“Whoa,” he tells her. “This is incredible.”
“Wait until you see the cannons that shoot Greek fire,” she says with a smile. The look on his face is priceless: Percy’s grin is broad and genuine, like a kid in a candy shop. “Let me see if I can get Leo to take us around. Maybe they’ll actually let me help out for once.”
The Hephaestus cabin had as of yet been notorious touchy about who they allowed to work on the Argo II: Annabeth had offered multiple times to assist, but Leo had insisted at the time that “No one touches my baby unless you’re a Cabin Nine-r.” Since the sons and daughters of Vulcan had arrived, things had changed. Things seemed to be going along twice as quickly with twice the manpower. The Roman and Greek kids of Hephaestus/Vulcan actually seemed to get along, once they discovered their interests were pretty similar.
She can see Leo at a distance, holding a massive clipboard, wearing a slightly-too-big yellow hardhat that rests atop his mass of black curls. Annabeth’s fondness for him has grown throughout his time at Camp Half-Blood. She waves at him jovially and he greets the two of them, a confused expression briefly flickering across his face as he sees Percy.
“Howdy, Leo,” Annabeth says in greeting. “Any chance you could give us a tour?” In a stage whisper, she adds, “Percy would really like to see the cannons.”
The way that Percy’s face lights up when he steps onto the deck of the ship almost feels like old times. Annabeth beams at his awed expression as Leo proudly explains the intricacies of the ship. The way that Percy catches Annabeth as she slips on something suspiciously like motor oil and Tabasco sauce… it feels like it could be a year ago. Annabeth savors the morning.
Meanwhile, the red-haired girl sits down next to Jason at the breakfast table without a greeting-just a glare that could probably cut glass.
“Can I help you?” he asks her. He only recognizes her when she speaks.
“Jason Grace, gods help me, I thought you’d have a bit more to say to your girlfriend,” Reyna hisses at him, anger flaring.
She’s not a daughter of Mars for nothing, Jason muses.
“Reyna,” he breathes.
“Not one Iris Message?” she says, eyes flicking toward Annabeth and Percy walking away in the distance. “Well… you move on quick, don’t you?”
Jason is conflicted: on the one hand, he knows that before the exchange, he really loved Reyna. Like-really, deeply, truly. On the other hand, he knows that right now, he feels anger at her assumptions. Jason chooses to ignore her comment about Annabeth and hunkers down.
“You have no idea what the hell I’ve been through,” Jason says, rage boiling inside him. “I have battled my way across the country, not knowing who I was or where I came from… I killed scores of Earthborn, werewolves, even a giant. I tackled the king of the giants with my bare hands. That’s a lot to gloss over, Reyna.” Suddenly, the anger dissipates. “Damn,” he remembers with a smile. “You always did know how to get me riled up.” He stands and starts walking away from her-she’s not worth his temper.
For a moment, Reyna looks at him like she wants to jump his bones right at the breakfast table; then, just as suddenly, her expression turns icy. Reyna hops up from the table and runs after him.
“I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me-a faithless son of Jupiter.”
It’s as if she’s just stabbed an ice pick in his gut. Jason feels all the air go out of him, his mouth dropping open slightly. He turns in place to face her. Reyna looks a little remorseful, as if she knows that with those words, she’s potentially lost Jason forever.
“Jason,” she starts, attempting some sorry attempt at an apology, or whatever-Jason is not interested. The words had cut him deeply. “Jason, I’m-”
“Reyna, I’m not the guy you fell in love with,” he tells her frankly, not really in the mood to spare her feelings. “Not anymore. Too much has changed for me to just fall back in line-”
“Fall back in love, Jason. We were in love,” Reyna cuts in softly, her words clearly reflecting a broken heart.
“This is hard, I know...” Jason says in a cool voice that he knows doesn’t suit him. Reyna cuts him off before he can cause any more damage.
“No, Jason, you don’t know!” she growls, eyes glittering with wetness. “Or you wouldn’t be doing this to me!”
She looks away as she wipes her eyes. He averts his gaze, allowing her what little privacy he could. Even with his lack of memories, he could vaguely recall her hatred for crying. He hates himself for making her shed tears because of him. When he puts a hand over her knuckles, she breathes a sigh of hopeful relief, covering his hand with her own. Jason retrieves his hand, unnerved at their intimacy.
“Either we start over or you’re going to lose me, Reyna,” Jason warns her. “I can’t just get back to where we were. I’m not there.”
“What if I’m not willing to start over?” Reyna asks him angrily. “What if I don’t want to throw away years of my life because of your… dalliances?”
“Then I’m gone,” Jason tells her, standing up. He hates this conversation-having put it off for so long, it's become all the more potent.
“Seems like you’ve already made your choice. Seems like you’re already gone,” Reyna says, her eyes small slits of anger.
A weight lifts from Jason’s shoulders as he walks away from her. It feels good-like he can breathe again.
Annabeth drops her muddy armor at the foot of her bed. She’s covered in sweat from the day, and she’s certain she smells absolutely vile. Groaning from a long and hard day’s work, she begins peeling off layers of dirty clothing and letting them fall in a pile on the floor. She’s half naked when Jason enters Cabin One, looking about as exhausted as she feels. Once he sees her state of nakedness, Jason perks up a bit.
“Whoa, sorry,” he stammers, turning on the spot. Annabeth sighs; she’s thankful she still has her underwear on. Wrapping a towel around herself, she deems herself decent and tells Jason to turn around. When Jason lays eyes upon her again, he remains on edge.
“Annabeth,” he says to the silence between them, refusing to make eye contact with her.
Her throat tightens. No, she thinks. I’m not ready for this conversation. Jason’s face, however, says that he is.
“Can I shower first?” she pleads. “I promise… we’ll talk.” He hesitates before nodding, and she quickly grabs her things for a shower and bolts out door before he can change his mind.
She lets the water run over her until the water runs cold. When she finally gets out of the stall, she has to be mindful to not take any more time, knowing that Jason's waiting and will come looking for her if she starts taking too long. Thoughts of what she would say to him were on her mind the entire time she showered, and continued to be as she made her way back to Cabin One. She pushes the door open to see that Jason is sitting on his bed with his head in his heads, waiting for her.
“What is it we’re doing, here, Annabeth?” he asks her uncertainly as she sits down across from him, still wet from the shower. She clutches at the white towel, feeling very exposed. Usually, Jason would throw her a shirt of his to sleep in, but right now… well, he seems very intent on an answer from her.
“Jason,” she sighs, running a hand through her damp hair.
“I just want to know... what you think we are. Are we together?” he asks her, the words out in the open at last. She locks eyes with him. “I mean, we’re together all the time,” he rambles, trying to put off the moment that she puts him down. “And everyone seems to think it already. And I…”
“Let me stop you there,” Annabeth says, hand outstretched. “First things first: without you, Jason Grace, I could not have gotten through this past month. When I was weak, you made sure no one else saw. You gave me the strength to face my past and overcome it.” She feels genuine affection for Jason. She just doesn’t know if that’s the same as loving him.
“Don’t you feel like there’s something… wrong? About this?” she asks him plaintively.
“What are you talking about?” Jason asks her immediately-but his eyes betray him: they hold both longing and fear.
“Don’t you think that we’re both meant for… this is going to sound weird,” Annabeth admits unhappily, “but, meant for something better?”
“So you’re settling for me,” Jason says in a blank voice.
“Jason, no,” she says, frustrated. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?” he asks her. “Just-you need to decide between us before it tears me apart.” Annabeth is certain that he’s talking about choosing between him and Percy, and that’s a choice she’s not prepared to make.
He stands up, and in a quick movement, presses a soft kiss into Annabeth’s damp hair. Then he heads for the door.
“Where are you going?” she asks him.
“I need to cool off,” he tells her. “And you need to think about actually answering my question. It doesn’t have to be tonight-” He cuts off her wide eyes and scared expression. “Just... soon. You can’t keep us hanging on the edge forever, Annabeth. Either we’re both going to fall, or I’m going down alone.”
Jason is sitting against a log, watching Annabeth spar against her cabin-mate Malcolm, when Percy sits down next to him.
“Hey, man,” he says with a friendly grin. Jason lifts up a hand in recognition and smiles slightly. They both sit in comfortable silence, watching Annabeth beat Malcolm into a pulp: it’s not that Malcolm is bad, per se, but Annabeth fights like the hellhounds of Hades spur her every move.
“She’s pretty incredible,” Percy states, less as an opinion and more as a fact.
Jason nods.
“Can I ask you something-about her?” Percy says, turning his body slightly toward Jason and away from the fighting before them. Jason straightens his back. He can smell something metallic in the air, a portent of something that’s about to happen. He can taste his world falling apart and there’s nothing he can do about it.
Jason nods.
“She keeps… looking at me,” Percy says, struggling to find the question he actually wants the answer to. “Like I’m supposed to do something. Like… she knows something about me that is so obvious that I’ve managed to miss it completely.” Percy is looking down at his hands when Jason finally answers with a sigh.
“Did no one tell you?” Jason asks Percy. Percy shakes his head, eyes wide. Jason runs a hand up the back of his neck, wanting to do the exact opposite of what he knew he had to do. “You’re in love. I mean-you were, before the exchange happened. Boyfriend and girlfriend and all that jazz-" Jason stops talking when Percy lets out a long, low breath.
“Wow,” Percy says.
“Yeah,” Jason agrees.
They both return to watching Annabeth. Jason can feel Percy’s eyes flick every so often back to him.
“Looks like I’m not the only one in love,” Percy murmurs. Jason’s head turns sharply toward Percy, who eyes him warily. Jason looks at Percy with apologetic eyes.
“She still loves you, man,” Jason admits. It’s a thought he’s entertained for a while: the idea that even while she spends the day with him, Jason, she’s thinking about Percy Jackson, the boy she loved and lost. It’s only when he actually says the words to Percy that he starts to believe them. “I just want to see her be happy again.”
“She seems pretty happy with you,” Percy floats out there. Jason shrugs in response.
“She’s not really with me,” he says truthfully. “When we’re together, alone… she’s not. There, I mean... mentally. She’s definitely not happy.” It feels good to lay it all out on the line, Jason realizes. “But thanks, dude.” Jason pauses. “Are you ready to make her happy again?” he asks Percy.
Percy looks at him with a torn expression on his face. Jason knows the feeling well.
“When I woke up on a bus in the middle of the Grand Canyon,” Jason begins, “the Mist provided feelings for the people around me that I assumed to be real. This girl, Piper…” Jason grins harshly in remembrance. “She’s the daughter of Aphrodite that spoke to you Romans when you arrived. She’s pretty incredible, too. But the Mist-it made me think we were… together.” Percy nods knowingly.
“There’s a girl that came with me,” Percy starts. “Gwen. Well… let’s just say, the Mist did a number on me, too.”
They return to watching Annabeth knock the stuffing out of Malcolm.
“Me and her?” Percy asks once again, almost in shock at his past luck. Jason lets out a small chuckle.
“Yep,” Jason assures, his voice full of false bravado.
“Damn,” Percy says, impressed.
They decide who the boat’s passengers will be after weeks of heated arguing: Jason, Piper, and Leo all had spots before the Romans even arrived in New York, but that left four more spots. One of the spots Jason had previously offered to Annabeth, so the number dropped to three. The Romans remain disgruntled at the three to one ratio, but were somewhat calmed when Chiron pleasantly reminded them that Jason was technically a Castra camper.
Percy goes, Lupa demands when the time came for selection from the Roman side. No one objected.
“I would like to put my name in for consideration,” Gwen says, eyes darting to her fellow Romans.
“As would I,” Reyna adds. “I’m prepared to die with honor in battle. Are you?” Reyna directs the question at Annabeth, who doesn’t deign her with a response.
“As… quaint as it is to see the women step up,” Derek says, clearing his throat, “I think that the choice is clear: I need to be in the convoy.”
Percy glances at Derek with a look that Annabeth can tell holds a significant amount of contempt. Gritting his teeth, however, Percy agrees with Derek. “Derek should come. He’s an excellent fighter and strategist. He can hold his own.” Percy says his last sentence while looking Gwen in the eye; she inhales sharply and then backs off mysteriously.
“I believe Derek to be a better contender than I for the quest,” Gwen mutters. “May I be excused?”
Gwen leaves before Percy can get another word in edgewise. Percy sighs and turns to Annabeth.
“Gwen was on a quest a couple years ago with this kid named Jack London,” Percy tells Annabeth in a low voice. “He got eaten by some Cyclopes in Detroit. Gwen never really trusted herself after that. It’s a pity, because she’s got tremendous potential…” Percy looks genuinely sorry that Gwen will not be joining them for the quest. Annabeth feels a guilty pleasure at the evening’s turn of events, in spite of her dislike of Derek.
“So we have our players,” Chiron says, turning to Rachel, who sits at the head of the table in quiet contemplation. “From Camp Half-Blood, we have Piper, Leo, and Annabeth. From the Castra, we have Reyna and Derek. And from… the in between, let’s say? We have Jason and Percy. You leave in three weeks, on the solstice.”
Jason and Annabeth are walking back toward Cabin One when they hear the fighting. Annabeth is the first to react, starting at a run while Jason practically stumbles over a tree root in pursuit. Little scuffles have been happening all over camp since the Roman campers arrived: a son of Mercury thinks that a daughter of Hecate cheated at cards, and half a dozen kids are fighting each other in the middle of the quad. Unfortunately, instead of throwing sticks and stones, because of the nature of Camp Half-Blood, campers have taken to raiding the armory for weapons to use. The worst had happened when a son of Mars had shoved a spear through a son of Apollo’s thigh: Lupa stepped in and declared the camp a DMZ, warning the campers that she would be the one to dole out punishments in the future for in-fighting. The head counselors had since taken it upon themselves to try and break up the fights that did crop up.
Annabeth and Jason screech to a halt in front of a group of what looks to be Aphrodite children and… children of Mars? Jason’s eyes widen in shock: Aphrodite and Ares were known for their eons long affair behind Hephaestus’s back. It is more than a little shocking to see their children duke it out.
“Oh, perfect,” says a horribly familiar voice: Reyna. “Now you can see the damage you’ve caused.”
“Shut up,” says another horribly familiar voice: Piper. Jason wishes he could disappear.
“Jason,” Annabeth murmurs in his ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
“If you’re thinking that this is a lover’s quarrel, I really hope it’s not,” Jason says, a deep blush reddening his cheeks in an absurdly adorable way. Annabeth smiles sweetly at him, briefly forgetting their surroundings.
Reyna gags in the background.
“Well, it figures that neither of us would get him in the end,” she announces to the group of warring teens. “Well played, daughter of Athena. Well played.”
“Annabeth,” Piper calls out, letting her dagger fall to her side. “Are you-are you really with him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Annabeth says reflexively. Jason flinches as if she’d physically slapped him.
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re not together? Or, don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re together, haven’t you seen us hanging all over each other for the past three months?” Piper asks coolly. Annabeth opens and closes her mouth before addressing the group as a whole.
“If I catch you fighting again, for whatever reason, I’m bringing you to Lupa,” she announces. “Enough’s enough. We’re at war, kids. We don’t need to injure our soldiers in advance. I’m sure the giants and the Earthborn and all the other horrible things that want to kill us will do the job well enough.”
Annabeth walks away from the sobered campers with a scowl on her face.
“I hear you broke up quite the outburst yesterday,” an amused voice says from behind. “How eventful.”
“I know you’re jealous,” Annabeth grins as Percy sits down next to her. “I got real sassy with them.” The Dionysus cabin is going over supplies for the voyage, and Annabeth is overseeing them (read: making sure they pack more than merely enough barrels of wine to get an elephant drunk)… or, she was overseeing them. Now? Now she is flirting with her former boyfriend. Go figure.
“A shame I had to miss that,” Percy grins mirthfully. He looks down at her-how that boy had managed to grow another couple inches while Annabeth would never know-and in a single glance, Annabeth knew that he knew.
“So who told you?” Annabeth asks nonchalantly, though she can feel herself tingling with excitement: maybe he remembers, maybe he remembers.
The answer is far less exciting: “Jason told me,” Percy admits, embarrassed.
Annabeth feels her eyes fill with unbidden tears; blaming her hormones, she curses herself silently for crying so much in these past few months. “Does crying make it better?” her dad had once asked her after a playmate had smashed a Lego city Annabeth had created. Annabeth had shaken her head from side to side at the time. “Then why do it at all?” That had been her mantra for years: if it doesn’t help, don’t do it. But the tears come in spite of all logic, in spite of reason.
“Do you remember… anything?” she asks softly, eyes averted.
“I remember a Minotaur,” he says quietly. Annabeth feels the tension between them rise. “I haven’t told anyone besides you about that.”
“You battled the Minotaur when you first came to Camp Half-Blood,” Annabeth muses, remembering the battered eleven-year-old she had nursed back to health. “It’s a start.”
“There are other things, too,” Percy adds, keen to keep her attention. “Lots of blue. And I think I remember my mom. Sally, I think. I get these bits and pieces…more since we came here. Since I moved into the Poseidon cabin.”
Annabeth nods. “What about… us?” she asks, hoping for one answer but expecting another.
“I’m sorry,” Percy says in a pained voice. “I wish I could tell you something different, but that would be a lie. Something about you tells me you wouldn’t appreciate that.” He smiles a sad half-smile, shuffling a little closer to her. “There’s nothing fair about what happened to us, Annabeth.” He punctuates his sentence by touching her cheek with the back of his hand. “But if I never remembered anything about our past together… Would you be willing to start again?”
Annabeth inhales Percy’s scent: he’s so close to her she can nearly taste him.
“I loved you so much Percy,” Annabeth sighs, melting into his touch, “that I don’t know if starting over will make me whole again or rip me apart.”
Jason is asleep when the camp security system goes off: it consists of a protective field that Leo installed after a couple of monsters had gotten past the magical border and nearly eaten a young girl from the Hermes cabin. Jason has only ever heard it go off during regularly scheduled tests, but now, at four thirty in the morning, Jason is about ninety-nine percent sure that this is not a test… and the other one percent is ready to kick Leo’s ass if it is. Sirens inside Cabin One blare incessantly as Annabeth springs up from her bed.
“Intruders?” she asks, flinging on shoes as Jason quickly arms himself.
“Dunno,” he mutters, “but let’s go and find out.”
They both run out of the cabin and manage to nearly collide with Percy Jackson, who looks alert and ready for a fight, even though the hair on the back of his head is standing straight up. Annabeth rolls her eyes at Percy before bolting, leaving the two boys running in her wake.
There are a few people gathered near the forest when Jason, Percy, and Annabeth arrive. Clarisse has her electric spear pointed into the darkness before them. It crackles menacingly in the hushed quiet, and Jason finds himself glad that it’s not pointed at him.
“What is it?” Annabeth breathes, directing her question at Clarisse, who shakes her head, just nodding toward the forest.
Jason can dimly see a shadow moving towards them. Drawing his sword, Jason looks over at Percy and sees that he’s done the same with Riptide. Annabeth, daggers gleaming in the moonlight, steps forward, ready to attack.
When the figure at last stumbles into the clearing, Annabeth drops her blades.
“Luke?” she gasps. A tall, blonde haired boy steps unsteadily into the moonlit grass before them. He looks terrible: his left eye is blackened, as if someone had recently sucker-punched him. He has cuts all over his forearms, and his orange t-shirt has a blood stain on its side, as if he’d been stabbed.
“Heard you guys are starting a war,” Luke breathes. “Can I enlist?”
Luke manages one more staggering step forward before falling flat on his face, as though he’d just been knocked out cold.
“Shot not carrying that back to the Big House,” Clarisse declares, putting a hand on her nose. Annabeth gives Clarisse a quizzical look.
“'That'?” she asks.
Clarisse shrugs her shoulders and begins the trek back. “You know as well as I do that that’s not the Luke who died last summer,” she says without looking backwards. “Look at his face.”
Annabeth kneels at Luke’s head, which is face down in the grass. Turning it sideways, she lets out a small gasp.
“What is it, Annabeth?” Jason asks, confused.
“The scar,” Annabeth murmurs, still holding Luke’s unconscious head in her hands. She presses her fingers across the young man’s forehead and then down, across his eye and to his cheek, as if she expected to feel something abnormal beneath her fingertips. “It’s gone.”
“This is most troubling,” Chiron grumbles, glancing at the demigods gathered around him. Luke had been sequestered in the basement of the big house, guarded by Argus, the head of Camp Half-Blood’s security. The sun has just risen over the Long Island Sound, but everyone in the room has long been wide awake.
“Is it him, Chiron?” Annabeth asks. “He doesn’t have the scar anymore.”
“Oh, it’s Luke Castellan, alright,” Chiron answers. Annabeth lets out an audible sigh of relief.
“I’m confused,” Jason announces. “Who is this guy?” he asks, directing his question to Chiron.
“Luke Castellan was a counselor here at Camp Half-Blood for many years,” Chiron says sadly. “He came to camp with Annabeth and your sister, Thalia. There was… an attack. Thalia sacrificed herself to save Luke and Annabeth. She was, for a few years, turned into a tree as a repercussion of her sacrifice.”
Jason stares at Chiron blankly. “Turned into a what?”
“Four years ago, Clarisse laid the Golden Fleece upon the tree, and Thalia was transformed back into a girl,” Chiron continues, ignoring Jason’s outburst. “But back to Luke. He trained rigorously here at camp, determined to earn his father’s approval.”
“He’s a son of Hermes,” Percy breathes. Everyone freezes.
“You remember?” Annabeth asks.
“He was the best swordsman at camp,” Percy continues. “He had this sword-Backbiter.” Percy’s eyes narrow. “He betrayed us.” Now Percy turns to Chiron, ablaze with emotion. “So why haven’t we had him hanged, drawn, and quartered yet?”
“Percy,” Annabeth starts, but Percy interrupts her.
“Luke allowed Kronos to rise,” Percy growls. “He captured you, Annabeth.” Jason watches as the memories seem to flood through Percy-years of moments connected with one person: Luke Castellan. “Beckendorf and Silena are dead because of him. So many are dead because of him. And Thalia-”
Jason’s ears perk up again at the sound of his sister’s name. A sinking feeling in his stomach signals that perhaps Thalia’s relationship with Luke hadn’t been strictly platonic. When Luke had turned evil, well… Jason could only imagine the grief she must have felt, after losing everyone else that she’d ever cared for. No wonder she’d joined the Hunters.
Jason can feel rage boiling inside his chest-a fraternal protectiveness that strikes him as a bizarre novelty.
“He died a hero,” Annabeth growls in Luke’s defense. “He stabbed himself in Kronos’ weak spot. He saved us, Percy. Don’t you remember that?”
Percy’s silence is answer enough.
“Trust me, then,” Chiron interrupts, “Luke did die a hero.”
“If he’s so dead,” Clarisse drawls, “then how is he, you know, in our basement.”
“I have a few theories,” Chiron replies.
“Care to share?” Clarisse prods.
“It all goes back to the Great Prophecy,” Chiron begins, pressing the tips of his fingers together. “The ‘Doors of Death’ have been opened. You saw this on your quest, Jason, with your encounters with Medea and King Midas. Luke, it seems to me, has broken free from the Underworld to join the battle.”
“But what about the scar?” Annabeth asks.
“My guess is only a guess,” Chiron sighs, “but I believe that Luke’s form, once in the Underworld, was not the one he died with. I believe,” he says, looking toward the dark haired boy in the corner of the room, “that he kept the form he believed in most. The body he had before he went on his quest. Before he was scarred.”
Jason turned his head toward Nico, who had remained characteristically silent throughout the morning’s proceedings.
“It happens,” Nico admits to the group. “For most of the dead, they see themselves as the image they die with, and thus their spirits manifest themselves accordingly. Some never give up on the unmarred nature of their youth. Luke must never have truly accepted his scar.”
“I’m a little lost,” Percy admits.
“It means that Luke’s come back in the body he desired so desperately during his brief time on earth after his first and final quest,” Chiron explains. “And that means that his body is around the age of seventeen.”
“And his mind?” Annabeth murmurs.
“I cannot say anything until I speak with him,” Chiron tells her gently. “Which is why I must ask that you all leave now.” Chiron walks away from the group of troubled demigods towards the basement door.
“I don’t like this,” Clarisse hisses. Jason and Percy glance at each other, signaling a mutual distrust. Nico looks disgruntled, as Luke’s appearance desecrates his father’s power even more than the Romans had by dismissing him as part of the Big Three. Annabeth merely sits down in a chair and breathes.
A small group of Hunters arrive two days after Luke’s reappearance. Thalia leads them.
“Where is he,” she demands, approaching Annabeth in the middle of campus. “Where. Is. He?”
“Thalia,” Annabeth gasps. “I sent you that Iris Message yesterday afternoon, how did you get here so quickly-you said you were in Utah-”
“Annabeth, so help me gods, if you don’t tell me where he is in the next five seconds…” Thalia growls menacingly.
Annabeth shudders at the glint in the Hunter’s eye.
“He’s by your tree,” she says. Thalia turns on the spot and starts marching toward Half-Blood Hill, Annabeth trailing behind her.
“You!” Thalia shouts, pointing to the figure standing at the top of the hill. “Luke Castellan, when I get my hands on you, you’re gonna wish you were still dead!”
That last remark certainly gets quite a few people’s attention: a small crowd begins to gather at the foot of the hill. From amongst them, Jason emerges, radiating intense anger similar to his sister’s. Behind him are Percy and Nico, who, likewise, look rather ticked off : the deluge of blame has begun. They all reach the top quickly, surrounding Luke in a semi-circle. Slowly other campers begin to creep up the hill-Roman and Greek alike-until the crowd is fully formed around them. The showdown begins.
“Guys,” Annabeth pleads. “He’s been through enough-”
“Stop, Annabeth,” Luke says quietly. His eyes are glued to Thalia, who seems to radiate rage and frustration like it’s her job.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” Thalia seethes. “First, I’m a tree. I sacrifice myself to save your sorry ass, and then-oh boy, does it get better. You betray us? Betray me?” Thalia draws her bow, cocks an arrow, and aims it straight at Luke’s heart. “I should kill you right now.”
“Do it,” he says softly. “I deserve it. Kill me. Send me back.”
Thalia closes one eye, as if to aim more precisely, and then slackens her grip on the bow in defeat. “I can’t,” she murmurs. Jason steps forward now, as do Nico and Percy.
“Well I damn well can,” Jason says, sword pointed straight at Luke’s heart.
“Who the hell are you?” Luke breathes, eyes wide with confusion.
“Jason Grace, Thalia’s brother, son of Jupiter, here to send you back to Hell,” Jason rattles off.
“Hades,” Nico corrects. “Back to Hades.”
“Whatever,” Jason says, his confidence faltering a little.
“You’ve got a brother?” Luke asks Thalia. She nods curtly. “Seems like I’ve missed a lot.” Luke and Thalia lock eyes for a brief moment, but the glance is electric, like a lightning strike.
“You look younger,” Thalia breathes.
“You look immortal,” Luke replies.
“Comes with the gig,” she laughs, but Annabeth doesn’t detect any humor in her voice. “I became a Hunter of Artemis after-well.” Thalia pauses, as if to underline something left unsaid. “I took an oath.”
Annabeth hears the sorrow in Thalia’s voice. Luke looks like he wants to hold her, but Jason’s sword prevents him from moving anywhere.
“You betrayed us once before,” Percy murmurs, stepping forward. “How do we know you won’t do it again?”
“I stabbed myself to save you ungrateful lot,” Luke laughs. “Does no one remember my final heroic act?” He says the words ironically, as if convinced that there is no connection between him and heroism anymore.
“Guys,” Annabeth says slowly. “We can’t just preemptively kill him. He deserves a chance.”
“We need to know if he’s telling the truth,” Nico suggests.
“I think I can help you there,” says a voice from the crowd: Will Solace steps forward.
“Will?” Annabeth says inquisitively. “What do you mean?”
“Well, my dad, you know,” Will says, blushing a bit. “Apollo’s the god of truth. He can’t tell a lie. And well, I can tell when people are lying. Just-this feeling, I guess. Started happening after the battle with the Titans last summer.”
“I grew up with a pet cat,” Annabeth tries.
“Lie,” Will replies. Annabeth raises her eyebrows in appreciation.
“It was a dog,” she admits.
“I slaughtered a manticore last weekend,” Thalia tries.
“True,” Will says, eyes wide. “Whoa. That’s awesome.”
“I defeated Krios,” Jason murmurs.
“True,” Will says.
“Wicked,” Nico grins. “That’s some trick, Will.” A hush quiets the crowd.
“I will never betray you again,” Luke says solemnly, addressing them all.
“True,” Will says with a smile.
“So that’s that,” Annabeth smiles, looking around at Jason, Percy, Nico, and Thalia. Annabeth feels her stomach settle around her knees as she realizes that no-it’s just the beginning. Luke would have to earn their trust back.
“Alright, show’s over,” Nico calls out to the crowd. “Get back to what you’re supposed to be doing before I set Mrs. O’Leary on you.”
“Annabeth, wait up!” a voice calls out from behind her. Annabeth is feet away from boarding the Argo II, but she recognizes the voice easily above the din of her surroundings. Turning swiftly, she sees Rachel Elizabeth Dare running toward her, red hair flying in the wind. Annabeth gives her rucksack to Jason, who looks amused at the sight of their beloved oracle, out for a jog.
“I wanted to see you off,” Rachel wheezes breathlessly upon arrival. Annabeth laughs at Rachel’s disheveled state, and Rachel pouts.
“I hoped I’d get to see you before we left; I’ll be just a minute, Jason, make sure they don’t leave without me,” Annabeth laughs, waving him onwards. Once he’s out of sight, a strange glint flickers in her eye.
“So,” Rachel says awkwardly. “You and Jason.”
Annabeth raises an eyebrow, certain that she knows where this conversation is headed. “You too, Rachel? I really don’t need this right now-”
“Hear me out, Annabeth, because I really do think this is something that you need right now,” Rachel says, parroting back Annabeth’s words. “After weeks, months of searching for Percy Jackson, and after years of knowing him, of loving him… you just let it go? I find that hard to believe.”
“Rachel, that’s not how it is,” Annabeth says defensively.
“Well, that’s how it seems to everybody else, Annabeth, so if you’d like to clue me in, I’d be obliged,” Rachel says in exasperation.
“Every second I spend with Percy breaks my heart, Rachel,” Annabeth replies bitterly. “Every moment that he doesn’t remember us, every day that he looks over me like I’m nothing to him-it hurts too much.” She hugs herself, trying to hold her composure. “Being with Jason is easy.”
“But you love Percy,” Rachel says, trying to put the pieces together.
“Always,” she says in a hurt voice. “But Jason-being with him doesn’t hurt. Well, usually.”
Rachel looks conflicted for a moment, then takes both of Annabeth’s hands in her own, keeping a tight grip upon them as if tethering her to reality, an action for which Annabeth is grateful.
“Sometimes we have to choose between what is right, and what is easy,” Rachel tells her gravely.
“Isn’t that from Harry Potter?” Annabeth laughs, but deep down, in the pit of her stomach, she knows truth when she hears it.
“Even boy wizards get it right sometimes,” Rachel smiles, letting Annabeth go.
“Wait,” Rachel calls out to Annabeth. Annabeth puts both feet on deck and looks down at Rachel expectantly. “Have you seen Luke? Chiron’s looking for him.”
“Haven’t seen him since yesterday,” Annabeth calls back, confused. Rachel shrugs and waves a final farewell before the boat begins its journey toward the open sea.
The Argo II is magnificent beyond words, though Leo takes his time explaining the minutia to anyone who’ll give him a moment of their time.
“The bunks are in the heart of the ship,” Leo tells them as they climb down from the deck. “Pretty freaking sweet, if I do say so myself.”
Annabeth has to restrain herself from gasping and inflating Leo’s ego even more than it already is, but the setup is pretty glorious. Seven hammocks hang from the ceiling, each embossed with the insignia of each demigod’s divine parentage: Annabeth can spy her hammock, with a grey eyed owl, in between a hammocks with a blue trident upon it and a hammock with a lightning bolt striking a tree.
Perfect, she groans inwardly, shooting an icy glare at Leo.
Beyond that hiccup, the rest of the room was extravagant: an armory lines the right wall, covered entirely with a variety of weapons that made even Derek drop his jaw in awe.
“Wicked,” Derek remarks in praise to Leo, clapping a strong hand on his shoulder.
There are too many other innovations to take in at once: a pool table in the corner has the boys occupied for awhile, and Annabeth finds herself quite taken with the selection of maps depicting the Greek terrain they’ll be questing through. Reyna and Derek browse the weapons immediately, trying to get first pick. Percy looks at the weapons and then down at Riptide, clearly content with his blade. Jason too looks relieved not to have to go up against Reyna or Derek for the better weapon, as the sword Juno gifted him hangs on a hook by his hammock. After perusing the ship for a few more minutes, the seven of them return to the deck of the ship. Chiron breaks a bottle of champagne against the hull of the boat before they set off.
“May the winds and waves be ever in your favor!” Chiron calls out to them as the ship leaves port. Annabeth can faintly see Nico standing in the shadows, waving at her, as if to say I’ll see you soon. With his shadow traveling abilities, Annabeth is certain that she’d be seeing him in Greece.
PART 3