𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬 [Percy Jackson]

68

Percy watched him sleep. It was honestly a little creepy, but he couldn't help it.

Hadrian always slept on his side, at least he started out like that. And then he would sprawl, hands over his head, legs everywhere. It wasn't perfect, his mouth falling open with light snores, the way he mumbled sometimes in his sleep, but at the same time it was perfect.

Hadrian was too perfect, Percy wanted to poke him.

He watched the steady rise and fall when Hadrian breathed, the graceful curve of his back, the brown hair that had turned pink now. Was he having a dream? Was it about someone? Was it about Jason?

Percy hadn't thought about the two of them a lot. He just remembered walking into the mess hall and seeing the hickey on Jason's neck and just... wow. He could almost imagine it- Hadrian kissing Jason's neck, just like he'd been kissing his lips.

He wanted to wake him up, rouse him to talk about everything that had happened. How could he just ignore everything and sleep? But Percy knew the answer, he had seen his red rimmed eyes, the bags under them. Had he been the cause of that?

Percy was itching to talk about everything- about Luke, about Kira, about Chrysaor, about drowning...

And the new revelation. Hadrian had come on the quest to betray them. After the meeting disbanded, Annabeth had pulled him aside, asked him to keep a watchful eye on Hadrian.

"It's Hadrian" Percy argued.

"I don't even know who he is anymore"

And Percy couldn't argue with that. Every new thing Hadrian revealed about himself, felt like a slap to Percy's face. He felt like he had his feet pulled out from under him whenever Hadrian spoke. He couldn't wrap his head around everything.

What the fuck was this guy's problem? Would he still betray them? Would he join Gaea? Would he do it for Kira?

Percy felt like he knew the answer deep down. Hadrian would. He definitely would.

The way he spoke about Kira, his whole face would light up and then he'd sit down like he had heavy sadness inside him. It ached physically to lose someone like that. To watch them die and be unable to do anything.

Percy knew all about it- Bianca di Angelo, Charles Beckendorf, countless other demigods on Camp Halfblood side. He knew about losing people, about blaming himself.

Gods. He didn't know what to think.

He tried to think about it from Hadrian's perspective. He imagined losing his mom, how he had felt at twelve years old. It felt like a lifetime ago. But he remembered the feeling. The determination. He'd been ready to walk into the underworld and drag her back if he had to.

He'd be Orpheus if that's what it took.

Hadrian was the same. Percy couldn't help but draw comparisons.

He ran his fingers through Hadrian's hair. The boy shivered and for a terrible second, Percy thought he was awake. But then he just leaned into the touch and rolled over, facing Percy, still asleep.

In his arms, he was hugging the stuffed shark.

Percy looked down at his rainbow fish.

Hadrian stirred, Percy's hand was still in his hair. When he opened his eyes, he looked panicked and small. That was exactly what he looked like when the dolphins had dragged him away.

Percy retracted his hand, but it was too late.

Hadrian scrambled back like Percy was a monster, going as far as to fall out of bed. His head hit the floor with a nauseating conk. Percy's eyes widened as he spewed numerous apologies and peered over at the floor where Hadrian lay.

His hair was white when Percy finally saw it again. Completely white, like Jack Frost. Hadrian looked like he'd seen a ghost.

All of that from one hand in his hair? Okay Percy wouldn't touch him.

"Shit, sorry" Percy mumbled.

Hadrian backed away until his back hit the wall. He drew his legs toward him and Percy could see how unevenly he was breathing. Why was he so spooked?

"Hadrian?" No answer. "Allaire?"

No answer. His eyes were open, but he wasn't looking at Percy, just at the side of the bed. Percy stood up and walked out of bed, crouching next to him, trying to ignore the panic building inside him. He'd never seen Hadrian like this- so vulnerable, so... broken.

"Hey" He tried again, "Mon cœur"

Hadrian's eyes snapped up to his. They were a beautiful brown that turned into pools of honey when the light hit them just right. The color reminded Percy of what a home should be like- warm, soft, comforting. He'd seen too many people wish their eye color was something different- green like his. But Percy had to say, Hadrian's brown eyes were much more beautiful. They felt like windows to his mind.

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again"

Was it because of the meeting? The glances of mistrust and disbelief?

"Mon cœur" Percy tried again, "Come to bed"

So Hadrian let himself get pulled into bed again. Percy didn't touch him more than a hand to help him get up. Even in bed, he kept a safe distance. Hadrian faced the other wall again, his back to Percy. He still hadn't said a word.

Thinking about Hadrian and how he shook silently, Percy slipped into dreams.

Percy dreamed he was standing on the front porch of the Big House at Camp Half-Blood. The sleeping face of Gaea appeared on the side of Half-Blood Hill—her massive features formed from the shadows on the grassy slopes. Her lips didn't move, but her voice echoed across the valley.

So this is your home, Gaea murmured. Take a last look, Percy Jackson. You should have returned here. At least then you could have died with your comrades when the Romans invade. Now your blood will be spilled far from home, on the ancient stones, and I will rise.

The ground shook. At the top of Half-Blood Hill, Thalia's pine tree burst into flames. Disruption rolled across the valley—grass turning to sand, forest crumbling to dust. The river and the canoe lake dried up. The cabins and the Big House burned to ashes. When the tremor stopped, Camp Half-Blood looked like a wasteland after an atomic blast. The only thing left was the porch where Percy stood.

Next to him, the dust swirled and solidified into the figure of a woman. Her eyes were closed, as if she were sleepwalking. Her robes were forest green, dappled with gold and white like sunlight shifting through branches. Her hair was as black as tilled soil. Her face was beautiful, but even with a dreamy smile on her lips she seemed cold and distant. Percy got the feeling she could watch demigods die or cities burn, and that smile wouldn't waver.

"When I reclaim the earth," Gaea said, "I will leave this spot barren forever, to remind me of your kind and how utterly powerless they were to stop me. It doesn't matter when you fall, my sweet little pawn—to Phorcys or Chrysaor or my dear twins. You will fall, and I will be there to devour you. Your only choice now... will you fall alone? Come to me willingly; bring the girl. Perhaps I will spare this place you love. Otherwise..."

Gaea opened her eyes. They swirled in green and black, as deep as the crust of the earth. Gaea saw everything. Her patience was infinite. She was slow to wake, but once she arose, her power was unstoppable.

Percy's skin tingled. His hands went numb. He looked down and realized he was crumbling to dust, like all the monsters he'd ever defeated.

"You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend," Gaea purred, "And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end."

Percy had a bad case of deja vu- Luke. He thought. But Gaea was only repeating the prophecy lines to spook him. "Enjoy Tartarus, my little pawn,"