Climb (Percy Jackson x Reader)

twenty-five

"You're right," he breathes, pulling his jacket closer to himself. His words tremble, shaken and tossed by the cold breeze as they cross the distance between them. "You're right. I'm sorry. I never . . . I only ever thought about how I was feeling. And not what . . . not what it was doing to you. I was selfish."

(Y/N)'s eyes soften, her throat bobbing slightly.

"And I'm sorry," he finishes, his throat tightening around the words. "You didn't deserve that."

His heart races at the following silence, his fingers twitching with anxious energy. His breath stutters when (Y/N) glances away.

"I—"

She whips her head to the side, staring into the darkness. Percy furrows his eyebrows, his interest in what she was going to say fading at the onslaught of concern.

"We need to move," she whispers, pushing herself off the ground and slinging her backpack onto her shoulders.

"What—?"

"Now."

Percy hurriedly grabs his bag, his focus shifting from the darkened woods to (Y/N), who picks up her sword and holds its sheath with preparation.

"Come on," she says, brushing past him and leading the way through the forest. Percy repeatedly looks behind him, and he jumps at the distant sound of voices.

(Y/N)'s steps thud slightly, and she curses when her boot catches in a small patch of mud. She yanks it free, motioning for Percy to jump over it before she drags her foot through the thick collection of leaves, kicking them over the mud and covering her footprint.

"There"—she points to a tree, its branches slightly lower than the rest, though still a good distance above Percy's head. "We're gonna go up."

Percy looks at her with unsurety while stopping before the tree. (Y/N) says nothing, interlocking her fingers, crouching slightly, and holding her hands out for him. He backs away, shaking out his shoulders before running and jumping; (Y/N) supports his foot on his leap, pushing up so that he soars just high enough to grab one of the lower branches. As he orients himself, (Y/N) removes a bronze clip from her hair.

Percy pulls himself onto the branch, settling himself closer to the trunk and looking down at the daughter of Persephone. She holds up her sword for him, and he grabs it, the sheath nearly slipping off before he readjusts his hold.

(Y/N) pushes open the clip, and it morphs into a thin stake. She puts distance between herself and the tree, looking behind her before running forward—as she leaps towards the trunk, she drives the stake into it, hanging on with one arm as her legs dangle above the ground. The side of her hand scrapes against the bark, and she sucks in a sharp breath.

Grunting slightly, she reaches for one of the branches closest to her, pulling herself up and taking the stake with her. The half-bloods scramble higher and move deeper into the foliage, hiding among the branches. (Y/N) opens her backpack, pulling out her collapsed bow and letting it unfold in her grasp.

She nocks an arrow, reaching for a thick branch just higher than hers and hooking her legs on it. Carefully, she lets herself hang, twisting her upper body to aim through a distant space in the lower foliage.

Percy adjusts his stance, waiting. Warmth begins to swirl in his chest, his power yearning to be kept at the ready. He shoves it away, watching as (Y/N) narrows her eyes and draws the bowstring back, a finger steadying her arrow against the pull of gravity. Percy's hand skates over the leather wrapping of her sword's hilt, his grip on its sheath tightening.

They stay in silence, watching the shadows before a beam of light breaks through. Another joins it, both of them streaking back and forth as they grow brighter.