𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐑𝐇𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

iii. things fall apart and time breaks your heart

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

ELIA WAS SITTING BENEATH THE WILLOW TREE when Jack asked, "Where did Fletcher get his name?"

She'd been expecting this conversation for a while, really, expecting one of the newer kids to ask about the empty bunk above her own, or the old guitar untouched in the corner, or the pair of dirty sneakers that still sat among the others by the door. She'd practiced responses in her head, careful explanations with gentle words and euphemisms, but the question still managed to catch her off guard.

The dog in question was laying on the ground, golden fur gleaming in the sun and his head propped in Jack's lap. Elia's mouth curled up at the corners, just slightly, as she remembered the way the sun reflected off her big brother's hair just the same.

Her fingers stilled on the frets of her guitar for a split second as she tried to ignore the gnawing feeling of despair that came with that memory; gods, did she miss Lee.

"My co-counselor and big brother," the blonde murmured, turning her head to look at Jack, who had his flute in his hands. She resumed her guitar plucking, giving the younger boy chords to play a lilting melody over. "His name was Lee Fletcher."

Jack just looked at her over his flute, blue eyes wide and clear as the early-spring sky above them. The months seemed to fly by now, winter coming and going like mist in the air, whisking away any delusion of a happy ending Elia might have been hoping for.

Elia was becoming increasingly more sure that she was not a good person. She'd stopped Iris messaging Percy near the end of February, letting the distance between them fall silent and empty, and it made her chest feel like it was lined with broken glass. First, it had been the excuse that she was busy at camp, which was true to some degree, and then it had been that she was being sent out on field missions, which was also true. What she hadn't told him was that she had volunteered for all of those missions.

She knew she was probably hurting him. Even from so far away from him, she could feel it, like a sixth sense. But this made the most sense, really. Elia was fairly sure she was going to meet an unfortunate death that coming summer, and she was slowly starting to come to terms with that. It was easier to deal with, having him out of the picture. She would die, and it would suck, but she would have loved and lived for long enough that she would be able to find a certain amount of peace within the end.

But Elia would never have loved Percy for long enough; eternity didn't feel long enough with him. She wanted forever, she wanted every single lifetime and universe and timeline. But she didn't get to have that, not with this story. And to deal with that, she needed him to give up. She would have to learn to deal with that.

Jack played a sort of soft lullaby on his flute, letting the soft notes linger in the air for a breath and seeming to choose not to comment on Elia's use of the word was. He was twelve, not naive.

Under the sun, just for that moment, Elia was reminded of just how young he really was— how young they all were, really. Jack was twelve, not even a teenager, and he'd faced worse monsters than the ones that stalked the streets, all within the walls of his own home. She was sixteen, raising her siblings and leading war missions and trying to deal with her foretold death in the near future. Lee had been nineteen, ready to go to college and start his life, and he had died.

Why did they fight, really? Surely not for the gods, who used them as pawns, pieces to play in order to finish wars that they started. For each other, Elia guessed, and for themselves too. To hope for a better life, to protect those they loved. It would have to be reason enough to get through a war.