Climb (Percy Jackson x Reader)

seventeen

"We prefer the term 'intellectuals'," Annabeth dismissively responds, looking back to the book in her hands.

"That's even more nerdy."

"Intellectual."

"Nerdy."

"Intellectual."

"Agree to disagree."

"Deal."

— x —

Seeming more silent than it has ever been, Camp Half-Blood sits under a midnight blanket of twinkling stars, basking in the light of a crescent moon. The thirteen cabins barely emit noise as their residents retreat to their beds, illuminated by the golden and silver glows of Apollo's and Artemis's. Slightly more separated from the rest and all but swallowed by darkness, the Persephone cabin sits quietly in the light of its entry torches.

Inside, (Y/N) paces, flipping through the pages of a book titled Rulers of Olympus: The Gods and Their Histories. She reads the words under her breath, occasionally shaking her head as the letters swirl around to be incomprehensible English. "Stop it," she grumbles, gently hitting her temple with her palm and squeezing her eyes shut as if to reset her vision.

One of Hera's many abilities is that of madness induction. This power was used to influence Heracles (an illegitimate demigod son of Zeus) to kill his wife and children, having been sent by the goddess into a wurberous rage.

"'Wurberous rage'?" (Y/N) repeats, squinting at the word before the letters shift into their natural position. "Oh, a murderous rage. I knew that."

Hours later into the night, she finds herself sitting at her desk, her hand tangled in the roots of her hair as she pores over a massive tome. The parchment feels fragile enough to crumble into dust under her fingertips as she turns the pages, and she scrunches her nose each time small bursts of dust float up from the paper and into her face. Yawning, (Y/N) leans back to stretch, blinking furiously to keep her eyelids from drooping with exhaustion.

The minutes pass by at a painstaking pace, the quiet workings of her watch marking each second with an unnaturally loud 'tick' in the silence of her cabin.

Her desk becomes a sea of printed parchment and scribbled findings, peeling leather covers and college-ruled notebooks. She reads and re-reads and re-re-reads every section of potential interest in every book she selected from the bookshelves in the Athena cabin's library, the Big House office and rec room, and her own cabin's supply of literature.

Eventually, she moves to the floor, laying out her sheets of notes and looking over them for anything she may have forgotten to search for. Afraid of falling asleep and losing essential time, she chooses to multitask—she flips through pages while doing sit-ups, holding planks, or squatting; writes messy bullet points and sentences while balancing a stack of items on her head, all while she stands on one leg at a time; and verbally recants her findings while jogging in place or organizing her belongings, hoping that a solution will become clear if she just repeats what she's read enough times.

The night goes with little progress, and (Y/N) slumps in one of her boho chairs as thin rays of sunlight begin to filter into her cabin. "Great," she mutters, looking at the forty-something volumes scattered across her desk, floor, and bunk bed. With a sigh, she stands, stifling a yawn before walking over to her bookshelf and looking over the spines for anything she potentially overlooked.

Five days later, Annabeth pulls Grover into the Persephone cabin, and (Y/N) waves at them without looking up from the scroll in front of her.

"See!" Annabeth hisses to the satyr, gesturing around the room. "I told you!"