Climb (Percy Jackson x Reader)

forty-six

✺ VESSELS OF POWER ✺

A lull settles within the infirmary as the day passes, bringing a gentle calmness that creeps through the windows in place of the dimming light from outside. The excitement resulting from Atticus's display of power had flooded Camp Half-Blood with an incessant chatter—now, as the sun recedes, so too does the noise, leaving space once more for the workings of nature to sound. The whistling breeze overlaps with twittering birds, accented by distant crickets and ocean waves as their melody decorates the air.

Annabeth releases a long sigh, sitting in the infirmary doorway and staring out into the camp. As she leans back against the doorframe, she hugs her knees close to her chest. "I wonder when she'll be back," she muses, the words softened by the wind that lightly pushes past her.

Nico looks up from Atticus's bedside. Will slumps against his shoulder, his eyes closed and breaths deep with exhaustion. His fingers intertwine with Nico's as he sleeps. The son of Hades shrugs his unoccupied shoulder, saying quietly, "It's a lot of stuff she wanted to talk to them about. It could be a while." A frown pulls at his lips, his eyes swirling with sympathy behind their typical shield of certainty. "What do we even do?"

Across the aisle from Atticus, Percy sits against a headboard, a blanket draped loosely on his lap. He stops fiddling with Riptide as he looks at Nico. "We help her," he says, simply. "She'll want to handle it on her own, but she also knows that she needs us."

"We need to give her time, too," Annabeth adds. With the wind, some of her hair passes across her face, and she pushes it behind an ear. "Things changed so fast compared to how long we'd all believed them to be. And while she can understand and accept that, it's gonna take a bit for her to come to terms with it and move on."

Looking out one of the windows, Grover shakes his head. "She might not move on."

Percy furrows his eyebrows. Annabeth frowns.

"What do you mean?" Nico asks. "She's been through so much already, and that's still worked out."

"It's exactly because she's been through so much already that I'm concerned," Grover says. His vision blurs somewhat as he thinks, keeping his attention trained on the distance. "She's pushed through it all only to find out that her life was predetermined for something else other than for her to live. She's risked herself so many times because she believed that neither of her parents, none of her family, would be good enough to do the same, and she wanted to be better. And she was wrong about that, and she's going to hold it against herself."

"She was wrong because they lied to her," Percy refutes.

"It doesn't matter." Grover shrugs, turning around to face the others. His eyebrows pinch together slightly, his features somewhat sharp. In his eyes lies a sort of glint, twinkling with knowledge and steely with pain. "She believed them. And now, it feels like she's losing someone because she made the mistake of doing that."

"It's not her fault, Grover," Annabeth says, her voice icy. "Why are you talking like it is?"

"I'm not," he snaps.

Annabeth narrows her eyes. Grover stiffens, glancing between her and Percy. The son of Poseidon watches him with a wary sort of intrigue. Grover's throat bobs, his jawline sharpening for a moment.

He sighs.

"You didn't see her," he says, his gaze falling to the floor, "after Thalia died."

Annabeth freezes, her expression going slack. Percy tilts his head as he shares a glance with Nico.

Grover leans back against the wall, scratching at one of his horns. The sky grows a bit darker in the window behind him, and animals fall quiet as if to let him speak. "It had been (Y/N)'s quest to bring Luke and Thals safely to camp. She'd gone with other campers, but she came back alone. Her pain, it was . . . it was so clearly physical and mental, but she didn't want to talk about it. I still don't know what happened to her team. To her."