Percy Jackson One Shots and Short Stories

#56 - Territory (Part II)

So they took a break. Annabeth suggested the distance, and Percy agreed. Figure out who they were by themselves.

A week turned into a month, and in a midnight phone call with scarce words, they'd decided to break up. Annabeth loved him too much — it terrified her how much she trusted him.

The months that followed immediately were good. No more fighting. And even though she had to deal with the nightmares alone, maybe it was worth it.

But she slowly began to feel like a piece of her heart was missing. She would hear a joke and make a mental note to tell him about it before realising that, in fact, she had no right to do so.

It was a dull ache. Not crippling, but it was always there. Annabeth thought that, with time, it was eventually disappear. Being around him again didn't help with that.

As she risked a glance at Percy, Annabeth tried to convince herself that it had been a good idea. They could barely speak to each other now, but gradually, they could go back to being friends, Annabeth was sure of it.

If Percy couldn't be her boyfriend, at least he could still be in her life, even if it had to just be friendship.

Percy's black hair shook slightly as he turned, and Annabeth realised too late — oh, Hades, he was looking — that she was staring at him. Green eyes met grey and Annabeth almost leaped out of her seat in alarm. Snapping her gaze away, Annabeth fought the blush from her cheeks, ignoring the piercing look he directed at her.

"...messages from the satyrs," Grover's voice dispelled the haze in her mind. Annabeth blinked — sometimes she forgot that she had ADHD — and tried to refocus on the meeting itself.

"There's been a worrying uprising of dracanae in the Amazon rainforest in Brazil," Grover continued. "Apparently the leader's convinced them that they are powerful enough to overthrow the gods."

Harlan hummed under his breath. "It's just dracanae, and far away from us."

"There are demigods in South America too," Nyssa, head of the Hephaestus cabin, interjected. "They might or might not have a camp, but either way, shouldn't we help them? If the uprising gets large enough, it could be a massacre."

Annabeth nodded, hearing agreement from the other counsellors. Even Harlan couldn't ignore the votes of everyone in the room.

He said stiffly, "I'll take it into account. Assign the mission to someone. They'll leave tomorrow to deal with it."

Nyssa flashed Annabeth a smile — small victories meant everything at the moment.

"Rachel," Harlan moved on to the next order of business. "Any more prophecies lately?"

Annabeth glanced at the redheaded girl, who set down her pen, her cheeks reddening as she was caught doodling. "No," their Oracle said, twiddling with a piece of her hair absently. "Nothing."

Annabeth could tell that she was lying — Rachel didn't want to give any quests to Harlan. And she wasn't the only one who noticed — Percy shot Rachel a knowing look, which she replied with a twitch of her mouth.

Something foreign tugged at her, and Annabeth felt a bubble of jealousy expand in her chest. No, she chided herself. This was ridiculous.

As ridiculous as she thought it might be, Annabeth couldn't deny the feeling of wrongness she got when she thought of Percy and Rachel together. Percy didn't belong with Rachel, he belonged with—

Annabeth recalled Percy's claim about her being territorial and winced. Gods, she really did have a problem.

Come on, she groaned internally, shoving the thought out of her brain.