He trusts Frank with nothing to hold him back— wholly, no restraints. It’s been like that since their beginning, all so strange and dreamlike now. There’s a distant memory of carrying Juno through the stream and losing his invincibility, having his safety net washed away with the current. In this universe, he’s vulnerable all over. The small of his back, that ever-Achilles heel, has spread like a virus across his skin. Not being in tune with the water he can sense is already close by pushes Percy away from his own mind. Nothing here is safe, he thinks. Nothing that he knows is certain.
( And it’s tough to tell whether it will ever be.
Tartarus skews his judgement and batters it with blood. )
There’s always the chance that these are isolated incidents, and Annabeth made it out safely because she’s still the genius he knows her to be. Not to mention the charmspeak that might’ve (unintentionally?) had an influence in the matter. He factors in the terror, the gap between what she doesn’t find morally acceptable in emergencies and what he absolutely does, and his knees threaten to buckle. The best he can do is start walking again— water will help.
But his throat’s never been more dry. All too predictably, his voice cracks when he musters up the next few words and says, “Yeah. Our minds, our bodies… whatever they can get their hands on.”
His expression twists to one of loathing, directed both at himself and at the scientists that have taken everything. Most of all, his understanding of reality. Frank’s point has Percy’s hands curling into fists and his stride picking up in speed.
“Look, I don’t want to believe she’d go without me either. But things happened when we went… you know. And it’s not the same. It hasn’t been. All I’m saying is— gods. Maybe she wanted to be somewhere safer and think things through. She’s always been good on her own.” It just so happens that this time, Piper is a second addition. An extension of the clarity Annabeth had before — someone that makes her an even better version of herself.
When he furrows his brows, he thinks of all the times that Jason’s grounded him. How he helps him back to his feet when he doesn’t need to and makes him feel real when nothing else can. Urges him to come to and look at their situation from a different angle. And… without having to say much at all, makes Percy his best self.
He steels himself for the next bit, as the water’s close proximity lends him strength and courage to speak freely. At the very least, Frank deserves to know. “Me and Jason… did a lot of catching up by the time they left. And after that— I don’t know.” His shoulders heave when he breathes in the balance of this untold truth. “We really had to stick together. And it’s made me stronger, he’s–”
Everything? Gee, he sure is dramatic.
“Man, I think you’re the only one who’s stayed the same since they got here. But sorry to throw this all on you at once. Just figured you should know.”
