PJO Oneshots (Book 2)

Out in the Woods

For JapanforeverchanYuki. You asked for a platonic hurt/comfort oneshot with any friendship. I hope the one I picked is okay <3

-

Percy got back to Camp two days ago, and he's lonely. Annabeth has been busy telling the year-round campers what the outside world is like, and when she hasn't been doing that, she's been planning whatever it is she's planning with her siblings. (It could be multiple things at once, knowing the Athena cabin.) Grover has been busy good-naturedly bragging to his satyr friends, as well as helping Chiron beat Mr. D at Pinochle. Percy couldn't blame either of them, but his lack of companions sucked all the same.

He had thought he'd found a close friend in Luke, but that obviously hadn't gone to plan. Percy wasn't the slightest bit surprised that another good thing had been taken away from him.

(You could imagine Percy's surprise when not only does he begin approaching friend territory, but he does so with perhaps the most unlikely of people.)

- Percy & Clarisse.

•••

When Percy sighs, his chest puffs out with the inhale, his shoulders rising minutely. When he finally relaxes, nearing three seconds later, releases the air he held captive, his chest retracts with the exhale. His shoulders drop back down, erasing the four millimetres they raised by.

The last time Percy checked the time - before heading all the way out here - it had been exactly half twelve. On the dot. He doubts the time is anywhere near that now. He's been out here a long time, he knows that.

By 'out here', Percy means out in woods surrounding Camp. As in, the dangerous ones.

Percy isn't out here for the thrill of it, isn't here to see ancient monsters out in the wild (the gods know he's seen enough of them in the past few weeks to last an entire lifetime), he's not even here for the peace and quiet the woods bring. Excluding the odd growl here or roar there, even a giggle or two from the tree nymphs, the woods are silent. There's not a camper in sight, and consequently, not the noise of a camper that follows.

Out here, there are no excited screams; no imitating roars; no metal clanging against metal; no pained cries of the children falling off the lava wall; there isn't even the marching footsteps of the Ares cabin doing their rounds.

All of this is an added bonus, to Percy, because none of those reasons equate to the reason of just why he is out here - all alone, as well - when all campers have strictly been told they're not allowed to venture out except for during Capture the Flag, or other Camp-wide games and sports. They're not allowed out without a permit, you could say. A permission slip.

(And of course Percy had to learn that the hard way.)

So, no, Percy isn't out there for the adventure or the freedom. Honestly, he's almost out here simply for the lack of having a reason to be out here.

Currently, Percy has no one to talk to - not anymore. His cabin can only get oh-so cavernous before it makes him want to tear his hair out or lock himself in a cramped cupboard with more people than physically possible.

The mindless throbbing of his left hand serves as a constant reminder of Percy's desperation to belong, and how the world has rewarded him for such intense emotion. (The same way it always has - negatively.)

Percy, so absorbed inside his own head, locked inside the prison of his own mind, doesn't hear the approaching footsteps that loudly snap twigs beneath their feet. Nor does he notice the image reflected up at him in the calm river water, his eyes glazed over and unseeing.

"-issy. Prissy." It's a light kick to his outer thigh that shakes him, and Percy comes back to the real word to hear a distorted form of his name ring out in a deep voice, "Prissy Jackson."

A weight settles beside him then, heavily, since the owner of the voice must have just dropped themselves down to his level.

"Come on, Prissy. Get yourself out of that empty head of yours."

The insult does it, then. Whilst his name and the kick had roused him, had gained his attention, the insult is actually successful in luring him out of his 'empty' head. The name of the voice's owner pops into his conscious thought almost immediately.

"Shove off, Clarisse." He murmurs, making no effort to be loud enough or even audible to her. He just expects her to understand him.

(She doesn't hear exactly what he says. She does, however, hear something similar to that, so she interprets the gist of what he wants right now.)

"No." The older girl tells him, simply. She will clearly do nought of what he asks of her.

"Please."

"Prissy. I told you no. Now get your head out of your-"

"Why are you here, Clarisse?" Percy interrupts her, his voice more monotonous than he could ever remember it sounding.

"To keep you company, unfortunately. Someone has to make sure you don't cry yourself to death or whatever out here." Is her thoughtful response.

Not once has Percy turned to look at her during their little conversation. He still makes no effort to.

"And that person is you, because?"

"Because no one else even noticed you were gone, Prissy!" Clarisse snaps at Percy, but there is something currently unidentifiable in her tone. Percy metaphorically shrugs it off, ignoring whatever it is and whatever it could mean.

They both go silent after Clarisse's words. They briefly wonder if the other person is also stuck in thought, or merely staying silent on their behalf.

Percy sighs, eventually, "Well- thank you. For coming to see if I was alright. I-" Percy pauses, hesitant to say the word, becuase they both know it will be a lie, "am. So, you didn't really have to."

"I did," Clarisee grunts. She almost says something, but changes her mind before she can do more than open her mouth to pronounce the words. "Who else would I have to beat up, then? You're the only one who doesn't break down crying. I like the challenge."

Unexpectedly, Percy laughs. It's a short, little thing, but it resonates with true humour.

"I'm not even surprised. You're here for you, not me." The realisation didn't make Percy mad, or even upset. It is truly rather funny.

"Of course." The tone is back again, but this time the origin of it seems less ambiguous.

"Come on, let's go spar, Prissy. Get your mind off things."

Percy follows the older girl back to Camp like a puppy does its owner. He does need a distraction from his thoughts, after all.