Amos had prepared himself for the worst as he rushed out of the Big House. Hearing Percy — one of the strongest demigods he knew — calling out for help, yelling for Amos specifically had made his anxiety spike. Though he tried desperately to push the thought away, Amos couldn't help but be reminded of last summer when Luke had poisoned Percy. His friend had nearly died because of that incident, and even then Percy hadn't shouted the way he was on this night, a night where they were supposed to be safe at camp.
As Amos rushed toward the noise, his heart racing as his mind replayed a mix of awful memories — Percy, pale and near death after being poisoned, the images his nightmares had shown him of his friends being hurt, sometimes by his own hand — he kept a tight grip on his spear. When he finally saw the sight that awaited him, Amos wasn't sure if he wanted to hug his friend in relief or throttle him for causing him so much stress.
There, sitting on the beach looking perfectly fine, was Percy. He looked just as he had a few hours ago at the campfire, down and defeated but healthy and safe nonetheless.
"What..." He muttered as he got close to his friend, the sound making the unusually solemn son of Poseidon lift his head in surprise. "Are you okay? Why were you-"
The sound of footsteps made both of them turn their heads, and instinctively Amos adjusted his grip on his spear, bracing himself for whatever would pop out. Of course, he looked a bit ridiculous when it was Annabeth who approached, her eyes concerned. Tyson followed after her, and Amos winced as the cyclops' feet pounded noisily on the ground. Discretion wasn't exactly his strong suit — not that Amos could blame him for that, it wasn't as though cyclopes needed to be discreet anyway; he just hoped the harpies that did patrol around camp wouldn't pick up on the young cyclops' stomping.
"What's going on?" Annabeth raised an eyebrow suspiciously as her eyes darted between Amos and Percy. (The skeptical look she gave them made Percy flush lightly, though it was thankfully hidden by the darkness of the night. It felt as though she was implying something, something that not even he had fully accepted, something that Percy wasn't too sure how to deal with yet.) "I swear if you guys are messing with me... I thought I heard you calling for help!"
"Yes!" Tyson nodded emphatically, his voice just a bit too loud. "Me too! You yelled, 'Bad things are attacking!'"
Amos, who stood the closest to Percy nodded in agreement at their words.
Strangely, Percy almost felt happy about what had happened. Sure, there was yet another god trying to use him to fix their problems, but at the very least the meddling from Hermes had shown him that his friends did care about him. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, no matter how cheesy that sounded.
Letting out a soft sigh, he did his best to explain. "Okay, so I didn't call you guys, I'm fine... but, thanks for looking out for me."
"But then who-" Annabeth began, only to be distracted by the large duffel bags that sat beside Percy. Amos hadn't noticed them before, which was pretty embarrassing considering they were bright yellow.
"Just listen," Percy began, the frown on his face only deepening. "We don't have a ton of time. Hermes came to visit me." He could tell his friends were taken aback, Annabeth more so.
Bringing up Hermes reminded her of Luke, it always would. It was true that last summer the three of them had come to an agreement. They had promised to work together to hunt down Luke and Alabaster — to what end, they never decided, perhaps to drag them back to camp and try to make them see where they were wrong — but deciding to do something was different from actually doing something. They were all a bit wary about confronting the two older campers, but both Percy and Amos knew that Annabeth had it the hardest. For a time in her life, Luke was everything to her. Secretly, she worried that he always would be, that she'd perpetually be stuck longing for him and the good times they had together.
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haunting * percy jackson
FanfictionHOW LONG CAN WE STAY LIKE THIS, LEANING IN FOR ONE MORE KISS *** Amos Morgan hates people. Well, hate is a strong word. Antisocial at best, a hermit at worst, Amos is perfectly content spending the rest of his life on the sidelines. Unfortunately wi...