13. The Ocean inside of Me - Percy

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13. The ocean inside of me - Percy

Annabeth narrows her eyes. "You agreed to do a stakeout to look for a killer, who kills teenagers."

"Yes."

I feel like a little kid being told off for throwing a sandwich at Nancy Bobofit, except this time it's for going somewhere at night with secretly evil students who probably are the killers and want to kill me. Annabeth words, not mine.

"What the hell Percy?" Annabeth pulls at her hair, "you're smarter than this, why would you do this?"

"Because I don't think they're the killers." I huff, "I know you think Stiles was communicating with those two men, but that doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does. You heard it too. You're just too trusting."

I stand up and walk to the other side of the room. I can't be near her. "I'm not too trusting. I've never been, you only think that because I'm loyal to everyone."

"You are, that's exactly the reason."

No? When have I ever been loyal to anyone?

I mean—

My jaw clenches. "Being loyal without a fault doesn't mean I'd give up everything for anyone. I'm loyal to you, and my family and Grover. For you I would do anything. But that doesn't mean I don't have a limit for others. Trusting is a whole other thing, you would know."

Annabeth stands up too.

Our fight is stupid, it's built on too much school work and little sleep. Neither of us have fought any monsters in ages and it's getting on our nerves. It's like a really bad maths equation.

"I want you to be logical about this." Annabeth's voice is low, like she's trying not to yell. "We can't trust them and we both know that demigods have auras around them. You scream danger, they're obviously not going to trust you and must be trying to figure you out. That's why they want you around them so much."

"I thought you said they're going to kill me."

"That's what I think, but you don't believe it. I'm not going to waste time convincing you."

"If you're so convinced then come with me, we work better as a team." I decide, crossing my arms. "I could take them down if I need to, but it helps a lot when you're beside me."

"I will come, but I'm wearing my hat. Then I can watch them without being suspicious," she says, dropping back into the desk chair. "Why don't you go to sleep. You didn't last night."

"I'm not tired."

I am. I'm so tired. But last night I felt like I was back there, trying to sleep on the ground with glass digging into my skin. My whole body hurt, and I don't want to relive that right now.

Annabeth gives me a sad look, understanding easily because we have the same problem, before turning back to her sketches laid out on the desktop.

I stay there. Feet rooted to the carpet. Annabeth is right in front of me, and I miss her. The easy conversation, the jokes, the training in strawberry fields and swimming in the ocean.

Not having to look over my shoulder all the time. Not having her reach for my hand at night because she's scared I'm gone. Always having to think before we speak, instead of just saying our mind —otherwise we spiral. The need to move, and never stay in one place for long. The scars that won't heal. The pain. The people who died. The people we killed.

We're not us anymore. The kids we were, died. They were dragged down to Tartarus, where no one has ever survived, and we came out on the other side.

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