Chapter Thirty-Two:
The Hymns of the Knowing.
— Darling, don't you stand there
watching, won't you come and
save me from it ?
The journey included self discovery.
Surprisingly enough, despite all the life threatening trials and tribulations of quests to save the world, there was still time for Percy Jackson to learn about himself. He'd finally found something he was really good at. The Queen Anne's Revenge responded to his every command. He knew which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer. The trio even plowed through waves at, what he knew was, ten knots. He even understood how fast that really was. For a sailing ship, it was pretty fucking fast. It felt perfect for a moment in time — the wind in his face, the waves breaking over the prow, and the two girls he trusted the most in the world (after his mother) were by his side. It was the freedom and lack of danger that made him remember how much he missed Tyson, and how worried he was for Grover. Though the events that occurred before the trio were steady sailing clouded his mind. He'd messed up, bad. And he wasn't ashamed to admit it, he was just worried — overthinking his credibility in terms of saving his camp, and his best friend, and — potentially — Olympus if the prophecy was his.
If it hadn't been for Annabeth and Colette, he'd still be a rodent, hiding in a hutch with a bunch of cute, furry pirates. He thought about what Circe had said: See, Percy? You've unlocked your true self! He still felt changed. Not just because he had the sudden desire to consume more lettuce than usual, but because he felt skittish — like the instinct to be a scared animal had become part of him. Or maybe it'd always been there. That was what worried him the most after the transformation.
The trio sailed through the night.
Annabeth tried to stay and help Percy keep lookout, but sailing didn't agree with her. After a few hours of rocking back and forth, her face was paler and tinged with the slightest green hue. She went below to lie on a hammock.
Colette stayed.
They were sitting, shoulders side-by-side as the boat rocked.
Percy felt his chest tighten for a second. It was after he'd taken a quick glance at her. (He knew he wasn't always the smartest, but when it came to Annabeth and Colette, he understood them quicker than he'd like to admit.) Colette's eyes had been trained forward, focusing on the horizon and nothing else. That shattered look that he'd seen a few times had returned, more damaged than it'd previously been.
The shade of deep blue was cracked through, shades of gray creating each splinter.
The red tint around their sclera, and the building moisture along her waterline gave away her true feelings in that moment.
Her despair caused his eyebrows to crease sympathetically.
He looked back down at his hands, slowly moving one closer to one of hers. It took a lot of courage from him, but he interlocked his little finger with hers. He gave a tentative, reassuring squeeze to hers. And when his eyes darted back up, there was a tear falling down the height of her cheek and her eyes had fluttered shut. His eyes softened further. He fully grasped her hand, intertwining their hands.
"S'okay, mi sol." My sun. He murmured, hoping to calm her. "S'gonna be okay. I'm here fa' you — always."
"I don't know what I'll do the next time I see Luke." She confessed to him in the depth of night, flicking the stray tear away as if it'd offended her. "I stabbed him after seeing him once. And after what he told us, I'll be angrier than ever ... but I—" she cut herself off for a second to breathe. "—I don't want to kill him."
