Chapter Text
Despite loudly insisting, Percy didn’t look "fine“.
With the sun beating down on them, the scorching temperature making her brain feel like mush and nothing interesting to look at since miles now, the only thing worth gawking at, was him. Yet, every time she glanced up from her beaten-up shoes and at his back, as it swayed side to side, more and more as they travelled, worry seemed perfectly reasonable.
When the accident happened, she was busy reading.
The bus was uncomfortable, hot, smelly and too leathery even for Nevada’s cowboy standards. She wanted to teleport to their destination right away, but her godly parenthood only gave her a crippling fear of spiders and depression-inducing intelligence.
Percy also didn’t have luck with divine genes, being in a place such as this. It wasn’t long after they left Utah, that in the desert, heat and lack of any ocean-related theming he became weary, sleepy and a little whiny at times.
It didn’t make reading easy. He kept commenting on the sadness of stones in the desert, the uselessness of sand, and how coarse and irritating it was. Gets everywhere, he said.
That was two hours ago. Back then, she wanted to smother him with her backpack to get a moment of blessed silence, but now she became uncomfortably aware of how quiet he was. Knowing him, and she knew him very well, it wasn't a good sign at the best of times. Out here, it meant trouble.
„Percy, are you sure you don’t need a break?”, she asked, for what felt like the hundredth time.
He didn’t answer right away, just kept on going in a truly uncharacteristic, stumbling fashion. She shuffled her feet loudly on the dried land, trying to get his attention.
As he turned to face her, his right leg caught onto a loose desert stone and he lost his balance a little, quickly regaining it but losing the cool, “everything is fine” expression on his face. With a quick smile he said;
„Not yet, I’m fine.”
I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.
He kept on going.
„You can’t be “fine” out here, Percy.” she tried.
Something like worry flashed through his otherwise slack and tired face, and he frowned, looking forward at the desert landscape. It was nothing in sight, but mountains, red hills and small, unimpressive bushes with little to no leaves to show.
It happened so quickly.
One moment she was reading about Piermarini's architectural prowess in the neoclassical area, and then another she was being flown head-first into the seat in front of her. The sharp and painful sound of the breaks struggling against the weight of the bus, and the tyres squealing in protest rang sharp in her ears. For a moment full of confusion and shock, she couldn’t process what was happening around them.
Then, she felt Percy’s hand grab hers and she was being tugged out of her seat right before the giant, red tail of something big right in the row behind, swung with deadly intent. In a moment of adrenaline-induced focus, she realised she was staring at a scorpion.
The mythological, giant and deadly kind of scorpion, aggressively trashed around the seats, much to the shock and panic of other passengers.
Its massive, red body and human-sized claws grabbing at the air and ripping through the seats’ layers, must have been equally terrifying to mortal eyes because the driver already vacated the vehicle, the swinging doors slamming loudly against the wall as he threw himself to safety. A middle-aged woman sitting closer to the exit, screamed, stumbling out of her seat, and falling briefly to the ground. A teen with shining blond hair in the furthest backseat stared frozen, face white and paralyzed, as a tall man next to them grabbed an emergency hammer and was about to break the glass window.
Annabeth took a deep breath.
Percy grabbed his sword.
The scorpion launched himself forward.
“Never in my life, was warm, stale water so tasty,” Annabeth murmured, inspecting the bottle.
They walked all day. It was around noon since the bus incident, the sun beating mercilessly down on them, as they trekked as far away from the road as they dared. Still, even after hours of non-stop walking, there was little to nothing man-made on the horizon. The longer she looked at the mountains in the distance, the more she became convinced, that they were moving away from them magically. She was starting to share Percy’s distaste for desert rocks.
He glanced up, from where he was sitting on a small boulder next to her.
As he looked at the water inside the plastic container, his eyes shone briefly with hope. Then, as soon as that feeling came, it also seemed to leave him, and with it the shine in his eyes.
His face drew long, deep shadows in the dimming light of the ending day, making his exhaustion even more apparent. His clothing was dirty and in poor condition after he tried to wrestle free of the scorpion's grip at some point. Eyes slightly red and tired. Worse of all was the dryness of his skin. His face and shoulders looked burned even after they equipped themselves with sunblock. He looked like a fish out of water.
She didn’t feel much better than him, exhausted to the bone by the high temperatures throughout the day and the constant strain of carrying their dwindling resources, but at least she wasn’t burned. Something about their water supplies did bother her, though.
“It’s weird…”, she started, as she swung her backpack forward, and took out the other two water bottles they had. “I thought we drank more. We had five breaks, two mouthfuls each.”
Percy looked at her with dimming eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,”, she continued. “This bottle should be empty.”
“Yeah…?”
“It’s one-fourth full.”
“Yeah.”
She signed, perplexed.
“I think I’m too tired to be smart right now.”
“I don’t think you’re capable of not being smart.”
Annabeth smiled softly. He smiled back.
They settled onto the ground, the ergonomic-size sleeping bags not providing much softness to help against the hard surface, but she decided it was good enough. Testing her sleeping spot, she laid down with a quiet oof and closed her eyes briefly.
She should’ve known to stay awake.
They quickly realised this wouldn’t be as easy as chopping the monster up and getting back on the road.
After the scorpion decided it was best to first try and crush them to death with the weight of his pincers, Percy managed to hold the blow off with Riptide, soon wrestling with it above their heads. The sound of the metal hitting the hard shell of the creature's armour rang out like a bell in the small space.
Annabeth ducked under the huge arm and swiftly grabbed their backpacks from under the seats. Then, with a practised move, she unsheathed her shortsword and thrust it right upwards. Percy gave her the perfect opening by holding the claw off, revealing gaps in the armour she immediately recognised as the monster’s potential weakness.
Her sword thrust with as much force as she could muster crouching down, and went true, right in the spot she wanted.
Then, it bounced back.
With a surprised yelp, she grabbed tighter onto the handle, as the scorpion hissed with agitation at this sudden attempt at his life and didn’t seem at all hurt. His skin, even though it looked much more destroyable than the hard armour, was untouched.
She quickly got back and away from the other claw, dangerously starting to grab at them as well. Percy allowed the first claw to come down while jumping back himself.
Frowning and probably thinking the same thing she was, he swung toward the outreaching claw and watched with worry as the blade failed to do any damage, instead bounding back with that high-pitched ring.
“Well, that’s not good,” he said, grabbing his backpack from her.
Then, he took her hand again, parried another potentially deadly blow and rushed backwards and towards the exit.
The sun woke her up.
Feeling like she was being cooked alive, Annabeth sleepily threw the sleeping bag aside, taking a second to reorient herself. At first, she thought the ground had somehow gotten more comfortable overnight, but then she realized she was lying on another sleeping bag instead. Willing herself to think quickly, she looked around in search of…
Percy was sitting with his back to her, looking at the horizon. Next to him, held in a slack hand, laid his sword, reflecting the rays of daylight.
He was breathing slowly.
„Percy?“, she asked, unsure if he was keeping watch, sleeping, or just now decided to try out meditation.
He didn’t answer, feeding into the morning silence, occasionally interrupted by the song of a lonely bird and crickets. It wasn’t unnerving, but not exactly comforting. Her curiosity spiked, helping her find the strength to pull herself up from the sleeping bag and closer to him.
Just as she gently grabbed his shoulders, Percy stirred.
„Wha?“, he asked groggily, head turning to greet her with half-opened and confused eyes. She immediately noticed the deep shadows under his eyes, the slight heat radiating off him and the shakiness to his movements.
“Please don’t tell me, you slept like that.”, she begged, getting up on her feet to face him.
He looked up, squinting.
“Okay, I won’t.”
“I’m serious. Did you even lay down?“
He let his head turn back, as he looked to the horizon.
“I did.” He signed. “For a bit. Then I heard some noise and thought it might be our scorpion dude. Couldn’t fall back asleep, so I kept watch. I guess I must have dozed off.”
„Percy…“, she started, thoughts bubbling inside her.
He waved through the air with a worryingly shaky hand.
„It’s alright, I feel fine.“
„Can you stand up?“, she asked, while getting on her feet herself.
„Of course I can stand up.“, Percy laughed, treating the question like it was silly. Then, he got up.
And stumbled.
She rushed forward to catch him, as his legs briefly lost stability, and his body swayed. He looked like he was moments away from landing face-first into the ground, but before she could attempt to catch him, the strength in his legs returned, and he straightened out by himself.
“Ha, sorry.”, he said. “Got a little dizzy.”
She looked at him for a few more seconds, before deciding.
“Here, seaweedbrain,” she took out the water bottle from yesterday and pressed it into his hands. “Drink. Everything.”
“You’re kidding.”, he frowned.
“No.”, she hoped the seriousness she felt showed on her face. “I know you skipped your portion yesterday. Drink.”
For a brief second, he looked like he might argue, but he uncharacteristically remained silent, which was just as worrying, as the speed at which he then drank. If she didn’t drink for a day, she’d down a bottle in seconds.
It took him ages.
He took little sips like it might kill him if he so much as tried doing it normally and she quickly realised that he must have been feeling nauseated, perhaps because he skipped it in the first place, was on the verge of heatstroke, or something else entirely was happening.
She considered asking. They were a pretty well-communicated couple, especially when in crisis. He’d tell her if he was about to die. She couldn’t imagine him being secretive for no reason. Then again, Percy wasn’t stupid but made stupid decisions sometimes.
They gathered their things.
Annabeth grabbed her backpack, reoriented herself, and started estimating the distance to the end of the plane that still stretched far before them. She knew there was a town that the road they were following cut through. Small, but it was civilisation. It would be a long walk. Hopefully, the supplies would last.
Percy looked to her, ready.
“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”, she asked.
“I wouldn’t have to.” He laughed softly. “You’d probably figure it out yourself.”