Conversations, Confessions, and Nightmares
The next day, when they woke up quite early in the morning, the truck was still moving. While they freshened up a bit, Percy wiped his mouth quickly in case he had drooled. He hadn't, but he still caught Annabeth's mocking sideways glance.
"Looks like your hair needs fixing," Percy said immediately, knowing exactly where to strike.
Annabeth's hand flew to her hair at once; but when she saw the same mischievous smile she'd given him earlier on Percy's face, she bristled and switched topics immediately.
"Did Luke say anything else to you?" she asked, reconnecting the conversation as if that would erase from her mind whatever Percy might've mentioned about Luke talking about her hair. Though she mostly believed Percy had invented the whole thing.
"Just that this time Grover will complete his mission and get us all out safely. This time," Percy said, while those words kept echoing in his mind. He didn't understand why Luke had said that at that moment, or what the point of mentioning it was.
Seeing the expressions on Annabeth and Grover's faces, Percy realized it wasn't exactly a pleasant memory for them.
"I should've told you earlier," Grover said, looking down.
"That you were the one who went to find Annabeth, Luke, and the daughter of Zeus. I already knew," Percy said instantly, surprising them both.
"How?" Annabeth asked.
"It's really not hard to deduce," Percy said with arrogance. Although, in truth, it was only after taking his master's potion that several of his neurons seemed to finally connect. He recalled Grover's words about how Annabeth forgave him… Annabeth's connection to the pine tree that protected the camp—Thalia Grace… the obvious connection between Annabeth and Luke… everything fell into place if he thought even for a moment. And above all, Luke's words.
"What interests me most is why Luke brought it up in the middle of our quest. What did he mean by that? I don't get it," Percy said, feeling something odd about Luke mentioning it just then. And with his slight distrust toward him, Percy seemed to be looking for hidden meaning behind those words.
"Obviously he said it so Grover wouldn't feel pressured and could move forward with us without overthinking," Annabeth said quickly.
"Well, we are talking about your boyfriend. I can't think of any other reason," Percy said, giving her a pointed look.
She turned red as a tomato. "He's not my boyfriend!" she snapped.
They rolled along for several kilometers, the truck shaking them occasionally, and the three remained in silence.
Percy noticed Annabeth was rubbing the necklace around her neck—the one with the college ring.
"That ring belonged to your dad, right?" Percy asked suddenly, perhaps to break the silence.
Annabeth's eyes widened, as if she'd only just realized she'd been touching it without thinking, and she responded defensively.
"That's none of your—" but she stopped, realizing she shouldn't snap. Then she put on a serious expression. "Yeah. It is."
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Percy said gently.
"No… it's fine." She breathed. "This ring… my father sent it to me a few years ago. It's a memory from my mother. Supposedly, he couldn't have made it through college without her. He… sent me a letter apologizing for being an idiot and saying he loved me and missed me," she said with a face more sad than angry. "He wanted me to come back home and live with him again."
"That doesn't sound that bad," Percy said, trying to be supportive.
"Yeah, well… I thought so too. I tried going home that school year… but my stepmother was the same as always," Annabeth said. "She didn't want her kids living with a danger like me. And monsters kept showing up, causing fights between us. I didn't last even until winter break. So I called Chiron and went back to camp."
"Do you think you'll ever go back to live with them?" Percy asked.
"Please. I'm not into self-harm," she said without looking at him.
Percy let out a sigh. "The world isn't kind to us half-bloods, is it?" he said—something he'd been thinking about for a while. Of course, he blamed the gods for it, but he wouldn't say that out loud with Annabeth present. Still, he didn't doubt it: if they were so powerful, why didn't they help when monsters attacked? Why ignore their kids' existence until they needed them, or wanted something entertaining to watch?
Being that powerful, why did they let their children die one after another? Percy felt that, from Annabeth's story and comparing it to his own, there must be many demigods who never even knew what they were… and probably died without understanding why. And the few who made it to camp… many weren't even acknowledged or claimed by their parents.
But of course, divine beings like the gods wouldn't trouble themselves over mortals—who to them were like rocks in a shoe. Raise and protect them? Not even in dreams. They were too busy having more children and being absolute bastards.
And with the few he'd met so far, Percy was starting to believe they all belonged in the same basket.
He was already annoyed just having those thoughts, so he quickly changed the subject.
"So if the gods end up fighting…" Percy began, looking at Annabeth. "Will they pick sides like in the Trojan War? Is Athena going against Poseidon?" he asked.
Annabeth, sitting with her knees hugged to her chest, rested her chin on them.
"I don't know what my mother will do. I just know I would fight on your side," she said without looking at him. Percy noticed a faint blush on her cheeks.
"Why?" Percy asked, staring at her.
"Because you're my friend, seaweed brain," she said, rolling her eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Any other stupid questions?" she added, looking at him with affectionate exasperation.
Percy didn't quite know how to respond; he only managed:
"I'm gonna take a nap, since there's still a long way to go. Wake me up when the truck stops," he said before returning to his makeshift bed and closing his eyes.
And, well… he was tired. That nightmare he'd had last night really hadn't let him rest properly.
Flashback:
The dream began in a hall full of students, while Percy, for some reason, was strapped into a straitjacket, unable to move. The teacher mocked him, asking if he was stupid or something.
Next to him was another person—a girl his age, also in a straitjacket. She had messy black hair, stormy green eyes, and freckles on her nose.
And somehow, Percy knew it was Thalia, daughter of Zeus. She was struggling too, trying to escape, before turning to Percy and saying: "Well, seaweed brain, one of us has to get out of here."
"She's right… but why is she talking to me like she knows me?" Percy thought in the dream. "Never mind, I have to get to Hades and give him what he deserves," he thought next, ignoring everything else.
Suddenly, he felt the straitjacket dissolve, and his body became semi-transparent as he began to fall downward, through the floor, while the hall faded far behind him.
Percy realized he was heading toward the dark abyss again.
There, he heard the same sinister voice calling his name.
"…Percy Jackson, you idiot. Did the exchange fail? How? Didn't he see it?" said the furious voice, echoing through the cavern, making the restless spirits flee in terror.
It sounded like it was speaking to someone else—not Percy—but the conversation was clearly about him.
"I don't know who the guy is, but he's… strong. And I don't know at what level," said another voice, one Percy found strangely familiar. "Maybe he suspects something, but I can't tell which pantheon he belongs to," the voice added.
"Useless. You don't even have information on whatever interfered with all our plans. Now I'll have to make a lot of changes because of your incompetence," the first voice growled.
"Sir… if you allow me, I could probably bring you what I stole directly. And then—"
Before he could finish, the furious voice cut him off.
"Silence. You would have failed a hundred times if I hadn't helped you. But don't worry, servant. Once those objects are here, you'll get your reward: your precious revenge. But… wait. He's here," the voice from the pit said.
"What?", said the unseen person. Their tone shifted to fear. "Did you bring him, sir?" they asked, horrified.
"No. It's because of the cursed blood of his father," the voice snapped. "Doesn't matter. I'll send you to where you wanted to go, young half-blood," it added mockingly.
Percy felt something grab him, freezing him in place before he was hurled through space, arriving in a massive throne room. Marble-black walls, bronze floors, a grotesque empty throne made of human bones.
Standing beside the pedestal was his mother.
She was trapped inside a golden force field, frozen in place.
Percy tried to run to her, but the closer he got, the more an unbearable dry heat scorched him, as if it were sucking the moisture from his bones.
The skeletons around the room then lunged at him, pinning him down and forcing him onto the throne. They placed a crown dripping with chimera venom on his head, burning his skin and blood. The pain was unbearable.
And then he woke up with a jolt.
He could still feel the burning on his head and face; he frantically touched his face to make sure it was still normal.
End of flashback.
Percy was still replaying the dream in his head as he reclined, but at that moment, the truck came to a stop. Workers were probably coming to check on the animals.
That made Percy get up quickly, looking to his companions to see what they should do next.