PJO/HOO One Shots

Haunted

It'd been months since they'd returned from Tartarus, but Percy knew. He knew from the way Annabeth would flinch slightly when he approached her, from the way she never quite made eye contact with him, how she seemed to be distancing herself lately. Whether or not she was trying to show it, Percy knew Annabeth was scared of him.

If he had to be honest, he was scared of himself. He'd never felt more powerful than he had down there, choking Akhlys with her own poison. He hated to admit it, but he almost enjoyed it. For a split second, Percy had thought he was invincible. But that scarred look on Annabeth's face, the way she curled her body away from him, it shut it all off for him. He felt like he had discovered something new, but if he kept going down that path, he would become more and more power hungry until he was insatiable.

Lately however, it seemed to be getting harder to keep it at bay. Every morning Percy would wake up- sometimes with Annabeth in his bed and sometimes without- and he could feel the churning in his gut. It made him sick, knowing he could feel how much water content surrounded him. Not just in the lake, but in the air, and in the campers all around him. In Annabeth.

Naturally, he was horrified, and constantly on edge. It didn't help that Annabeth seemed to be feeling the same way.

The other day, Percy had approached her while she was deep in conversation with Clarisse, and while she acknowledged his presence with a fleeting glance, she flinched in surprise (or disgust?) when he extended his fingers to grab her hand. She tried not to show it, but the damage had already been done. Percy tried to hide the hurt on his face seeing that she had that same look on her as she did down there, especially since she wouldn't meet his gaze. Slowly, carefully, he flexed his fingers into a fist, trying to calm his breathing before the lake boiled over.

Then, just earlier in the week, in the dining pavilion. The Stolls, trying to play pranks again, had set out some trapwire for some poor camper to trip across. Unfortunately, the plan backfired when a new, unlucky camper did trip, but his body hit the floor before his food did. Instantly, the sound of a body hitting the floor triggered Percy, and he was moving before he could even think about what he was doing. Feeling a familiar tug in his gut, Percy felt his forehead beading with sweat as he concentrated on the water in the air, and the sweat on everyone's bodies, including his own. Flicking his wrist, Percy allowed the sweat and water to mix and form a table of sorts, catching the camper's tray and food before it had a chance to clatter on the floor.

Blinking, Percy helped the camper up and handed him his tray, allowing the water to dissipate. "Um, thanks man," the kid muttered, shuffling away awkwardly.

Meanwhile, everyone else was touching their foreheads, or their noses, or wherever, realizing where the sudden sense of dryness came from. Worst of all though, was Piper consoling Annabeth as she touched her forehead mutely with that same terrified look on her face.

Annabeth hadn't talked to him for a couple days after that incident, and she wasn't coming over at night either. Meaning, Percy had to deal with his nightmares on his own. Not to sound whiny, but it was just much easier to deal with them when Annabeth was there with him. He didn't have to search his mind so hard for reassurance she was alive, and there, and okay.

Tonight though, was the worst night he'd had in a while. He hated how sleep offered him no relief from the terrors of his daily life, but most of all he hated how it took him back there.

Annabeth was running around, calling out for him. "Percy?" her voice came, frantic and watery. "Percy, why'd you leave me?"

Percy tried to move towards her, but his feet stayed glued to the ground. He could feel the shards of broken glass embedding themselves into his feet, but it didn't even come close to the pain of hearing Annabeth again, believing Percy had abandoned her.