Fall (Percy Jackson x Reader)

twenty

18k!! tysm!

i looked at so many different sites for the greeklish/transliterations in this chapter and very few were consistent, so i'm sure there will be some errors—please feel free to correct them in the comments!

slight edit: july 8, 2021
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Tyson looks around him at the streets of Washington, D.C., with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. (Y/N) chuckles from behind him as he spins around slowly while walking, taking everything in. "This might be the most fun I've ever had!" he tells Percy, who takes a sip of his latte. "Like, ever, ever."

"That's good!" (Y/N) says, earning a glance of disapproval from Annabeth beside her.

Percy nods, trying to make conversation although he isn't sure if he really wants to. "Yeah, well, anything's got to be better than being homeless, right?"

Annabeth scowls at Percy's attempted friendliness, falling back to keep some space between herself and the Cyclops, and (Y/N) sighs quietly before doing the same. Grover walks behind them as he tries to keep up with his crutches, and Annabeth grips her cup tighter when Tyson smiles at his brother.

"The alleys would have been fine if you were there," Tyson says, and Percy looks ahead of him once more to try and escape the awkwardness he feels rising. "I had this- this box, you know? It was actually pretty comfortable, and I wouldn't have minded sharing. I could've just found another, too. But, you know, everything's better with a brother!"

(Y/N) folds her lips inward in anticipation as she eavesdrops onto their conversation, waiting for Percy to say something. He takes a moment of hesitation before speaking, trying to tone down Tyson's excitement. "You- you know, technically, we don't have the same mom, so—"

"So we're still brothers!" Tyson interrupts, misinterpreting Percy's words. "I know! How cool is that?"

(Y/N) holds back a chuckle at Percy's uncomfortable response:

"Arctic."

The group passes by an alleyway, and (Y/N)'s stomach begins to twist. She slows her pace, falling behind Annabeth to walk just ahead of Grover, her muscles tensing.

Oblivious, Annabeth takes another sip of her latte before scrunching up her nose. She looks down at her cup, holding it out slightly. "It's too sweet, don't you think?"

Percy turns around to walk backwards, giving Annabeth a shrug. He glances at the slowly-walking (Y/N) in confusion before shaking it off and facing forward once more, staying alert just in case.

"Nah," Grover says in response to Annabeth's question, and the hair on (Y/N)'s neck lifts on end. "Nectar's never too sweet."

(Y/N) walks even slower, falling behind Grover and brushing a hand over the pommel of her sword. She blurs the surrounding environment from her consciousness, focusing all her senses on where she cannot see. The sound of crutches is muted by the faint scuffling of hurried footsteps from behind her, her friends' conversations by the quiet rustles of clothing.

She grits her teeth, continuing to walk and listening intently as they stop.

"Shit," she hears, unable to pinpoint the voice to a specific person.

Casually, she kneels down, fiddling with the laces of one of her combat boots while continuing to listen.

She tilts her head up, watching and thanking the gods that her friends have kept walking without taking notice of her actions. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, she switches the leg bent in front of her, undoing the laces on the shoe and retying them at a painstakingly slow pace.