BROKEN PIECES & GOLDEN SEAMS

XVII

33. more promises but none to ensure her survival

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For all that Percy had been teased to be the 'feelings type', she's quite useless at feeling the one bond that she really wanted to be aware of.

The empathy link was not present in her mind as it had been for Grover. He had described it to be very similar to the time they had shared dorm back in Yancy Academy. The school hadn't cared much for her gender and she had used their ignorance to sneak out and stand vigil for her friend and his crutches.

That thought now makes her realise how awful middle schoolers could really be. Then she takes hold of her wandering mind and forces it to stay on track.

Right, the empathy link that she could never feel but was always comforted by the thought of it. It all makes her wonder when Grover brings it up on their quiet evening by the strawberry fields. It makes her rethink about the fact that the link was now broken.

"I miss the empathy link," the not so much of a boy anymore chews on his aluminium scrap. The nervous tic is done with more care than he usually shows for its the special can that Percy had picked up before coming to camp the day before.

"You really really don't," Percy has her eyes closed, laying on her crossed arms upon the grass.

Grover abandons his snack with a sigh and lies beside her. The blue sky is darkening. The clock ticking closer and closer to her leave. "I never know what is happening and that makes me nervous—"

"There's no need—"

He's not done, "—because you show up like this!"

She tugs on her flannel sleeves, absentmindedly ensuring that the bandages are hidden from view. "I could never subject you to that,"

"When are you going to learn that I want to do that for you Percy?" His tone's nothing but miserable. "When you were down there—lost and we had no idea what to do—what to think—I was scared out of my mind—and without the link—" he cuts himself off, breathing heavy and sitting up before his best friend could offer an ill timed apology, he says, "I was scared."

"I'm—"

"I'm still scared with you there,"

Percy sighs, stretching out her legs in front of her. It hadn't quite stopped being sore in ages. "Things are getting worse,"

Grover finds that it's easier to breathe after all that's out and rather than talking about it, he chooses to change the subject. That's something he learned from her. "What you were talking with Chiron?"

She nods. The shift had been more of instinct than anything. Deal with something straight on but to face the consequences? Better to run. Life found something to throw something new at her everyday anyway.

"What're you going to do?"

"I'm not sure," her lips twist into a frown, "they're asking me to teach Grover and I can't do that," she spreads her hands, spitting out as if it's the most unimaginable thing anyone can ask of her, "not again!"

"You don't have to Percy," the satyr's chin trembles, reiterating the phrase she's been hearing for a while now. "You really don't have to."

"I can't do it again!" Her voice remains defensive. "I told myself that I won't—I can't train another army,"

Grover looks on with increasing worry. He rests his hand on her shoulder.

"I told them no," it's with shame she admits. Her eyes close and her head bows. Her best friend's there to catch her. He wraps his hands around her shoulder and pulls her in with great caution.