Climb (Percy Jackson x Reader)

thirty-eight

apologies if anyone couldn't access this chapter when published!

re-uploaded: 28 jan 2024
———

✺ GHOSTS FROM THE PAST ✺

(Y/N)'s muscles ache.

The journal, envelopes, and picture frame in her hands seem to pull endlessly at her joints. She barely processes how her feet shuffle against the floor, too busy staring down at the image of her father and Evander.

They grin up at her, their joy alien and out of place amidst her immeasurable confusion and anger and hurt.

"Oh, (Y/N)," Rosemary breathes, striding over to her as she enters the living room. The half-blood goes stiff at the nymph's embrace. "I'm so sorry you had to learn this way."

(Y/N)'s jaw tenses. "Why?" she asks, the envelopes crinkling in her tightening grip. She looks up at Rosemary, her face void of emotion. Her words, however, barely a proper sound on the air, beg for any possible explanation. "Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't you tell me—why couldn't anyone tell me?"

Rosemary sighs. She shifts her eyes away, guilt washing over her expression. "I had my orders," she says, her voice soft with regret. "We all did."

"From whom?"

Rosemary flinches at the palpable ice that the words carry. She folds her lips inward. (Y/N) narrows her eyes, waiting.

The hairs on her neck prick upward. She shifts her attention to the back door.

Rosemary swivels, her eyes suddenly alight from within. "Someone's touched the barrier," she says.

Without pause, they rush for the door. The objects vanish from (Y/N)'s hands while her sword's sheath materializes, slung across her torso. The weapon's hilt pokes comfortingly against the base of her neck. Her backpack, slightly heavier from the uncovered secrets that now rest inside, forms in her grasp, and she pulls it on her shoulders, tightening the straps in preparation.

A gust of wind freezes her cheeks as she steps outside. Rosemary walks briskly ahead, taking stock of the children in her sight.

(Y/N)'s ears twitch at the distant flapping of wings. She looks up, searching the clouds in the darkening sky.

A hawk continues to circle the orphanage, its figure vague and undefined with its distance.

"Kids!" Rosemary calls, her voice somewhat panicked. She plasters an unaffected expression on her face. "Come back inside, now!"

(Y/N) follows her frantic gestures to the group of three children near a warped tree trunk. Atticus peers intently at the ground while two other boys toss pebbles at each other.

With dismay, one of the boys looks over. "But it's not dark yet!"

The hawk grows clearer against the sky. (Y/N) flexes her fingers as a shiver runs down her spine. She turns, slowly taking in her surroundings.

"Time's up for tonight," Rosemary says, the tremulous sound of her concern indistinguishable from a chattering pattern of the cold. "Come back inside."

The boys grumble, dropping their acorns and kicking at the ground dejectedly. Atticus continues to look at the ground, wandering aimlessly in his left-leaning hobble. He gasps with excitement, reaching out for something nestled in the grass.

"Attie!" Rosemary calls, her voice shrill.

"Just a second!" he yells back.

And then, (Y/N) notices the visible shift in the air when Atticus' hand crosses past the tree trunk. As he leans out and down, his footing goes unstable. With a gasp, he struggles for balance, stumbling forward to steady himself. The magic in the air breaks for a millisecond.