Flower Food || [P. Jackson] ||

Chapter 2: My Latin Teacher is Secretly a Horse

"I'm sorry."

"Blahhtbb."

Percy woke up to an apology and of course the only thing he could say was the noise equivalent to a bear giving birth.

This time, as he slowly blinked his eyes open, the pain was somehow less tolerable. The bright light shining in through the clinic's windows was too much, and he gurgled out some noise of discontent as he tried to shift his head away from it.

"Why're you...? Oh. Hold on."

There was a small shuffling noise, and soon enough the light that threatened to burn his eyeballs out receded into just a dim glow. He opened his lashes again cautiously, and even though his head still throbbed violently, the now dark room served a much less painful purpose.

"Thanks," he said hesitantly, looking straight into the grey, unhappy eyes of the girl everyone had screamed as Annabeth.

She leaned back in her stool and crossed her arms, frowning but nonhostile as she said, "yeah, sure. Listen, last night I pushed you too far, and I'm sorry about that. But it's true that time's running out. The solstice is only in seven days and we don't know what's - "

"Percy!"

Percy looked up and barely had time to process the sight of Grover's teary eyes as he rushed over and embraced Percy so tightly that he wheezed.

"Calli told me that you crashed last night," Grover wept, ever the emotional one, and started to rub his chin over Percy's already messy hair. "I'm sorry, Percy! I'm so sorry! It was my fault that I couldn't protect you properly, and now Sally - "

Percy tensed at his mother's name and he pushed Grover away. He didn't do it too hard, but maybe just the motion by itself was enough to shock his friend, who stumbled back clumsily and looked at him with wide, glassy eyes.

"So it's true, then," Percy said tightly. He glanced down to see the cloven hooves at the end of Grover's legs that tromped nervously on the tiled floor. "All of it. Everything. The Minotaur and my... my mom..."

Annabeth and Grover exchanged looks, hers being calculating while his was pure anxiety, but Percy couldn't find it in himself to care that much as he curled his fists on top of the blanket so tightly that his nails dug into his palms.

His mother was gone. The only person who had ever loved or cared for him was gone, and Percy hadn't been enough to save her. He'd done it in the end, managed to stab the Minotaur to dust, so he'd been capable of doing it; he just wasn't fast enough.

He angrily scrubbed at his eyes, his tears still melting past his fingertips anyway, but he didn't make a noise even when Grover made a soft bleat of despair and then clopped over to place something in his lap.

"This is yours now," Grover said mournfully, gesturing to the curved horn that Percy vaguely remembered snapping off of the monster. "A hero's tribute. You should carry it with pride, Percy."