Percy Jackson: Gods' Bane (DARK PERCY)

(A𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔠y)

(Rachel's POV)

Rachel was nervous.

Abnormally nervous considering Percy was one of her best friends.

She was just going to visit him and check up on him... and maybe tell him something slightly important that she'd learned.

No reason for her hands to be sweaty.

But she had heard the stories, of course. Apparently he had yelled at Chiron and dismissed him last time someone had visited him.

But she knew Percy thought of Chiron like a father and would never purposely intimidate him.

So there must have been some sort of mistake... right?

Yet a part of her remembered how he had looked when he had first returned to camp after the battle.

His face covered in blood and wounds, only broken up by tear-made streaks.

His typically playful sea-green eyes were dark and full of hatred like the ocean before a tsunami. But more than that they had been broken. She could see the grief, the pain, in his eyes more than anything else.

She hadn't recognized him for second when he'd stumbled into camp, the ground beneath him shaking. He'd collapsed soon after and was dragged to the infirmary.

She couldn't believe that he was one of the only ones left out of the seven. That he had lived and Annabeth hadn't.

She couldn't begin to imagine how much pain he was in and knew she couldn't help him.

So she hadn't seen him much after that. She was busy helping clean up the mess with the Romans, and he was busy healing.

But she occasionally glimpsed him through the windows of the infirmary, sometimes sleeping, other times sobbing.

When he was really upset the pipes around camp would bust, flooding buildings.

After he was out of the infirmary she'd mostly only seen him through the windows of his cabin, face bandaged, pacing and talking or crying or yelling at himself.

She saw him outside only once, when he was leaving to quest, face covered with a helmet, Riptide in hand. He strangely hadn't asked for a prophecy, though.

Chiron later told her Percy hadn't checked if he could leave on his quest to hunt monsters, he just had. He had planned on telling Percy he was dismissed from camp before then, though.

When he had returned a couple months later, Chiron handed Percy his dismissal letters that had been sitting in a drawer for months. He gently informed Percy that he needed to go home, that he was unstable and should spend some time with his mother.
Camp couldn't handle any more of his flooding or uncalled quests.

Rachel was far away at the time and could only seen Percy in his full face helmet, making angry gestures at Chiron. When Chiron was obviously done speaking Percy had turned and walked out of camp, sword in hand.

She hadn't seen him after that.

But now she was making her way up his apartment stairs. She came to the door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

Sally opened the door and smiled widely as she greeted her. She let Rachel in and hugged her, then she pulled back to look at her.

"How are you dear? Is there something wrong at camp?" Sally asked nervously.

Rachel shook her head. "No, everything is good at camp. And I'm alright. I'm just here to check up on Percy, see how he is."

Sally sighed. "Well, he's not doing the best. But, maybe seeing you will help.
He's actually not here right now, he went out for a walk. He's late but should be home any minute. Care for some lemonade while you wait?"

Rachel nodded gratefully and followed Sally to the small kitchen table.

* * *

An hour later Percy knocked and pushed open the apartment door without waiting for a invitation in.

He began talking as he closed the door, not facing, or noticing, Rachel in the living room to his left.

"Mom! I'm home! Sorry I'm late, I got a little distracted. You know, I think I might take Chiron's advice and vis-"

Rachel cleared her throat loudly, not wanting to intrude on a conversation intended for just Sally.

Percy cut off and spun around to face her, surprised.

When she saw his face she had to hold back a gasp.

A thick, pale, riveted scar ran down the side of his face. It immediately reminded her of Luke. A chill went down her spine.

His eyes were darker than she remembered, and the whites were rimmed in red, like he had been crying not long before. He had dark circles around his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping well.

But his expression was somehow more concerning than all of that, it was anger and pain and darkness and power
and
heartbreak.

She tried to hide her surprise best she could as she watched him subtly slip his pen, his sword, back into his pocket.

He relaxed slightly, shaking his head, obviously annoyed.

"This better not be about a prophecy."

End of chapter five.