Chapter Text
Annabeth was annoyed.
She was annoyed at a lot of things. She was annoyed at herself for developing a weird separation anxiety once Percy was up and about again. She was annoyed at Percy, because he’d suddenly decided to dodge all attempts to actually follow through on their promised conversation. He wasn’t slick. She was annoyed at Chiron, who was being cagey - badly. That was par for the course - retrospection over Chiron’s behaviour following Thalia’s alleged “sacrifice” had really helped her catalogue his tells. She was annoyed at Will Solace, who had declined to give her an update on Percy’s recovery, touting client-patient confidentiality. They were in a summer camp for demigods. Genuinely, unless he was placing undue importance on the dartboard in the Big House, there was no one around to revoke his license. Which he didn’t have in the first place, being twelve. Also because he’d apparently given Grover a full update, after Percy told Will the satyr specifically was okay to share information with. Annabeth insisted that Percy must’ve said his best friends, plural. But apparently he’d mentioned Grover - and Grover alone - by name.
Which brought her to the satyr in question. Annabeth was more annoyed with Grover than she had ever been before. And that’s saying something, given she had once levelled a lot of misplaced blame towards him for a year straight after first getting to camp.
Annabeth had caught her friends having intense discussions not once, not twice, but thrice since Percy had been cleared to go off bed rest. And it was definitely about Percy’s two weeks MIA, but for some reason, they always ended the conversation as soon as they spotted her. Usually because Percy would literally run away with a half-assed excuse. And yes - deep down, she was aware that it was her pride and the fact that she was feeling hurt that was driving her towards aggressive investigation. Not just an objective belief that Percy was hiding information from her that might have been vital to her prophecy (snapping that at the boys and crossing her arms before them didn’t work, by the way).
Grover seemed to be in near constant stress despite the slight lull that swept camp after Kronos’s invasion. He was never great at being subtle either, so it was very much evident when he stared mournfully at the demigod in question. And yet, he refused to actually share his concerns with Annabeth.
That was frustrating on another level.
By virtue of who they were, at least one of them was undergoing some crisis at any given time. By unspoken choreography, the other two would at least talk about it - information would pass between them without restraint. Outside the three of them, mum was the word. But they were a unit. However, since the battle with Kronos on the hill, arguably one of the biggest thing that the three of them had undergone together, Grover seemed to skirt around anything Percy while talking to her. Which obviously doesn’t work, give Percy was a third of them and clearly, Kronos and Luke’s primary target - for completely different reasons.
Obviously, if Percy had asked him to keep things from her, she couldn’t be mad at the satyr. But whenever they both saw him standing still and staring off into space, Grover would wave it off, looking deeply unconvinced even as he said, “Ah, he’ll be fine!” or “I think he’s much better, actually!”
So, back to the anxiety thing, and the separation that was causing it.
She’d finally caught up to Percy in the mess hall last evening, coming back from the hearth after making his sacrifice to the gods. He’d been doing that for every meal lately, as opposed to their once a day standard for most campers. She’d even caught him dropping a chunk of his Snickers bar into the hearth - which came from a midnight snack. So, she’d donned her Yankees hat and headed down to dinner a little early.
Was that a little insane? Yes.
Was she ashamed of it? No. She had basically spent zero full minutes alone with him since he’d stopped being confined to his bed. (Which was another issue, given he’d been mellowed out on painkillers for a whole week the last time they had actively hung out together).
Like clockwork, Percy showed up and dropped about a quarter of his plate into the fire. That was too much, was he eating enough? She heard him whisper, “Poseidon.” And after a beat, casting a look about, “Really sorry, again.”
She followed him up to his table and whipped her hat off, grabbing his shoulder just as a gaggle of Aphrodite campers walked past them, effectively cutting off all of Percy’s escape routes.
“Have you been eating enough?” she demanded, glancing down at his plate.
“What are you doing here?” he frowned, eyes widening a bit. He glanced at his still-blocked exit. “Yeah, I’m eating enough. Don’t worry about it. Chiron’s going to yell at you if he catches you here.”
“No, he won’t,” she replied confidently, swinging both her legs over to take a seat beside him, folding her arms on the table. “He’s trying to get back into my good graces right now.”
Percy mouth twitched but he didn’t say anything, hunching towards his plate instead. Annabeth watched the side of his face, his laser-sharp focus upon his food - again, unheard of - for a good thirty seconds. “So, are we going to talk? You know, that thing you agreed to four days ago?”
He stabbed his carrots with deep concentration. “To be fair, you got that from me under duress. I was high on Solace’s very unregulated pain medication.” He looked a lost in thought, and an uncomfortable silence ballooned between them. Annabeth floundered for something to redirect their conversation, but ended up just watching him again. Percy was never quiet and lethargic, even when he was in recovery - they normally had to force him to sit still to even get stitches. They literally had a Percy-protocol for bedrest because he was always twitchy after a big piece of action.
Since the battle, Annabeth’s mental alerts were going off because he seemed to freeze in time rather than be causing general calamity, left to his own devices.
It was clear he needed to get something off his chest - Percy usually built up things in his head that were only resolved after he blurted them out and talked over them with someone. But the way he seemed to be dreading this talk had her balking as well. She didn’t want to force him, not really, if he didn’t feel ready to talk.
“We can talk later,” she offered with difficulty. “Maybe I could come see you in New York after we’ve fixed up the camp a bit.”
He blinked. “Uh, why would you meet me in New York?”
She lightly punched his arm. “Summer break ends next month, Seaweed Brain. Your mom will be back to pick you up by then. Besides, don’t you have finals?”
He laughed, which both confounded and uplifted her mind. He caught her expression and paused. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you were making a joke. I’m not going home for the summer. I mean, I can’t!” he gestured out and about. Annabeth frowned at him, so he continued, “I mean, the Prophecy’s supposed to come true next year, right? We need to get ready for it.”
She peered at him. She didn’t know how to phrase it delicately, but Percy wasn’t a year-rounder. The camp managed to prepare just fine without having to keep the Prophecy kid around.
He read her silence well enough, because he scowled, “I can still help. I know I haven’t been around-”
“Okay, hold on. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m not trying to be mean here, Percy, but we’ll be fine. And you’ve been working so hard this semester-”
“Annabeth!” he interrupted loudly. She blinked. He dropped his eyes away again. “I mean, it doesn’t matter. I missed my pre-finals already. I can’t write my finals without passing those.”
She gawped. she’d never understand how mortal schooling worked. “Can’t Paul help? I mean, I thought he got you accommodations this year?”
He looked annoyed again. “He probably can, but I don’t want to keep owing him stuff. Besides, he doesn’t know anything about this world. And before you start, I’ll remind you what your stance on involving mortals in this mess was earlier this month.”
She frowned at him. Rachel had to be directly involved in the quest, not just told the basics about the actual existence of ancient Greek gods as an explanation. That was completely different. Also, the way he said ‘owing’ sounded off - but Annabeth hadn’t dealt with mortal relations long enough to figure out what the answer was supposed to be there. Wasn’t something she could just read up on, after all.
He shoved around some mash on his plate, then took a bite when he realized Annabeth was watching him play around with it. “I’m just going to take some remedial classes after school. I can write the finals next year. Probably even out on attendance for this grade, assuming I can even go to school next year.”
She didn’t like how laissez-faire he was about the future planning. She especially didn’t like his tone, like school was an afterthought. One thing Percy was constantly stressed about was catching up on school and passing. He wanted to ‘make his mom proud in some small way’, as he’d put it last year.
A lot of what she caught him saying had her concerned this past year.
“Okay,” she decided. “You know best on that, obviously.” He shrugged. “Do you want to talk at the beach? Or would you like to go to Cabin 3?”
He clutched his fork so hard his knuckles went white. “Might do a round of the infirmary first. Re-align the brace.”
“I could do that for you.”
“I think I’d prefer to let an Apollo kid do it, no offence.”
“None taken. I’ll come with you!”
“Well, they’ll probably make me take my pants off.”
They both glanced at the baggy sweats he was wearing, with the loose cuffs.
“I can wait outside. Make sure you don’t trip and mess up your leg on your way back,” she pressed, not willing to let him avoid this again.
His face was getting a little red now, a frown forming between his brows. He said, tone firm, “Annabeth-”
“Hey guys! Percy, Will sent me to get you for the infirmary. You done with dinner?”
Unbelievable. She saw the relief in Percy’s expression as Grover came to a stop between the two of them.
All three of them looked at the very much half-eaten plate of food before Percy. After a beat, he said brightly, “Yep! I’ll be right down.”
Annabeth stood up, but Grover literally stepped between them. “I got it, Annabeth! I think Bronte was looking for you, actually! I’ll make sure he gets to the infirmary without tripping on air again.”
Percy rolled his eyes, taking the satyr’s proffered hand. “Thanks, man.” He shot Annabeth a tight smile. “Looks like Grover’s got it. I’ll see you later.”
She couldn’t tell if he truly meant it. She gritted her teeth and crossed her arms as both boys blatantly tried to avoid her sharp look. Then, saying nothing, she turned on her heel and left.