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summerlovingbaby · 1 year

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Who would Stay The Longest

Y/N sat at the gravestones of the fallen soldiers. No, they weren’t just soldiers. they were heros. And now they were gone. Y/N hated the word gone, it felt so permeant, like when you delete a picture or swallow your gum too quickly. But they were. Dead, done, gone, buried, deceased. Whatever you wanted to call it. They were gone.

And she wasn’t, which was the inherit problem.

She sat at their graves, alone and surrounded by the ghost of memories and occasionally sweeping off the leaves that fell on them. Sweeping the dirt off the stone headstones, and running her fingers along their engraved names, like they would change, She felt the rough stone along her fingertips, and the cold hard dirt that she sat on. She didn’t have the foresight to bring a blanket, nor would she have brought one if she thought about it.

She didn’t want a blanket, or food or water. If someone offered her one Billion dollars she wouldn’t except it, because the one thing she wanted she wasn’t getting back, she wasn’t special enough for that.

As the sun shrunk behind the treeline and slipped behind the horizon, not than Y/N noticed, let alone even care. It felt like she had been there for a thousand years and would wait there for a thousand more, and she would only leave when she felt good and ready to. And she did not feel good,-not eating or drinking for days would do that to you, and she by no means would she feel ready anytime soon.

She heard the crunching of the fallen leaves behind him, followed by shallow quick breaths from walking up the hill. Her hand flew to the knife she wore around her thigh. and her fingers grabbed at the handle, gripping it tightly she felt her fingers turning red. She heard the footsteps get closer and the breathing get heavier. She felt his warm fingertips through her shirt as he lightly tapped her on the shoulders, she knew it was him but didn’t care.

Will Solace, son of Apollo and probably the warmest guy at camp, temperature and personality wise. When he smiled, the sun off reflected off his teeth to make it look like gold, and when the moon shone on him, his smile looked like pure whith pearls.

As soon as the fingers connected with her shoulders she grabbed his hand and yanked it down, moved her feet from their criss cross position ans outstretched her legs out in front of her, and forced his body over her, throwing him over her shoulder. He flew over her head, his head hardly missing the top of his own brother’s headstone. He landed on his back with a thud, then led there for a moment.

He of all people could understand why she would wait here. Laying on his back and looking up at the sky through the trees made everything seem so calm and night. The leaves swayed in the chilling night air, and they hid the sky from view, but of you looked hard enough the obscured stars would peak through the leaves ever so slightly and that made him smile.

He took a few deep breaths and sat up, using his arms to push himself to his knees and peaking his head over the top of the headstone, He smiled. That stupid classic Will Solace smile, that usually could brighten hell itself, but right now it made his overtly happy face seem so shapable it made Y/N’s fingers shake.

His fingers tapped at the top of his brother’s gravestone. “That was a nice throw, I was half expecting you to stab me, but a nice through none the less.”

Y/N looked at his face, still smiling at a makeshift cemetery. His blue eyes as bright as ever despite the darkness. His shaggy blonde hair bounced on his head every time he moved, and he was long overdue for a haircut. Despite the glare that she gave him, the corners of his mouth turned into a smile. He still found away to smile through all this grief, surrounded in a field of tragedy and bodies. Y/N wondered if they already started decomposing in their caskets, but thinking about that made something rise in her throat so she pushed it away.

“ Next time I will stab you.” she spoke, her eyes drifted down to the headstone, and tucked her legs back into the Criss Cross position again. “ Right in the neck.”

He playfully grabbed at his chest, mocking a person struggling to breathe. “ Oh you wound me.” he said grabbing at his neck, and falling backwards landing on his back again. It was a bad show he put on the make her smile. But he peeked over the top of the headstone, to see her still grimacing. Her eyes narrowed in on the dirt of the freshly dug grave, and nose shriveled up in disgust.

She was thinking about him. His skin and his body rock hard, his fingertips so stiff that they wouldn’t even move.His face aged with death, death did that to people. It always seemed to age a person 1000 years. She thought about gaping hole in his stomach that had already started to decompose. He wasn’t buried in a suit, just jeans and a yellow shirt that Will always stole for him to wear. He thought of time moving on before him, his body stuck forever in place, the only sign of him aging would be the decomposition of his body. Maybe it wouldn’t do it so fast if it got cold enough quickly, So she wished it would snow, just to escape permance grasp of his body breaking down forever.

“What are you thinking about?” Will asked, poking her in this shoulder.

“ Snow.” she stated simply. She tried to keep her voice still but it cracked slightly.

His face turned sullen, his eyelids drooping and the corners of his mouth dropped to a place between a grimmace and a frown. He hated the cold. Son of the sun god. “ It’s too warm for snow. At least here.”

“ Maybe we could summon a snow spirit, and she could make it cold forever.”

If she could freeze any moment in time it would be the moment beofre the war. Amanda, her best friend since diapers would still be alive, along with the most f her cabin mates. Her boyfriends biggest worry would be making sure he didn’t run out of pomade, and her biggest worry was proving that she could beat Lucy at Uno. She couldn’t beat her at uno. Next thing she knew she was telling whoever was left in cabin 9 how many caskets to build and how many headstones they needed to engrave. What to put on a epitaph, you could only come up with so many before they sounded dumb or cliche, so many were left blank.

“ How long have you been here?” he asked. He sat next to her, running his finers along the fresh dirt, that hadn’t quite hardened on the top of it. Feeling the topsoil and grabbing handfuls before flattening them out again.

She checked her watch and then went back to staring at the headstone.” 3 hours and 14 minutes.”

It wasn’t a lie exactly, she had been sitting at that grave for 3 hours and 14, now 15 minutes, and before that she was at Lucy’s grave before that, thinking about that time she had to give Lucy the hemiclich maneuver because she never chewed properly, and swallowed haphazardly and choked on a large bite of apple. 4 hours before that she was at Amanda’s grave replacing the flowers despite the fact that they were so fresh the flowers hadn’t yet bloomed. But that wasn’t what he meant. She had missed all mealtimes and hadn’t gone back to the cabin since the funeral.

She was still wearing the clothes she wore to the funeral. Back combat boots laced up to the ankles, and long ribbed socks that went up to mid calf because if they went up any further, they would make her legs itchy. A simple black pleated skirt that she must have stolen from Anabeths closet and a simple black tee. Her camp necklace around her neck, along with a shark tooth that she never took off. Her shirt had gone wrinkled from wear and her fancy funeral updo had frizzed in the humidity and fallen when she flew into hysterics.

He leaned in and placed his head on her shoulder, the top of his yellow hair brushing against her neck. “ I think it’s time.” he whispered. “ I think it’s time to go back, maybe take a shower, this isn’t good for you.”

She knew it wasn’t good but didn’t care. As far as she was concerned her home was beneath her. Buried in the dirt beheath her feet. Her cabin was practically empty. Everyone was either claimed by their godly parent or dead. She was happy for them, she really was, but she couldn’t help but feel all alone. Mourning the dead and taking in there losses. It was lonely work, when all your friends were celebrating theor wins and she had none to celebrate.

The one time she walked back into her cabin it felt open and drafty. Like someone spent a wind god through the room. It chilled her down to the bone and she hadn’t stepped in it sense, and wasnt anytime soon.

She shook her head quickly, not letting her eyes abandon the grave. “ No.”

“Y/N-”

“ I’m not ready.” she whispered.

“ I don’t think anybody’s ever ready for these types of things.” he responded.

He brushed the side of her face and felt her lip quiver slightly, before she bit it to keep herself from crying. She did that often, hurt herself to keep the emotions away. If she could focus on the pain in the present then she could keep the upsetting thoughts away. But this grief was a pain that nothing could compare to. She couldn’t stab herself in the leg or make her nose bleed or stick her head in the river that ran through camp to try to cut off oxygen.

This was the worst type of pain for her. The pain in the present, the pain where there was no practical solution to. Her friends were dead. There was not much that could be done. No spell, no magic, no god could bring them back. She prayed. It didn’t work, and begging on your knees for no one to respond was shameful. And she could not tell what she was ashamed of more: that she had prayed to flakey gods to begin with, or that she actually thought they would respond.

Greif made her delusional. Greif also made her jump down the throats of anyone who got within a yelling distance of. It was shocking that it took her so long to get angry with Will.

“ You seem to be ready.” she snapped.

He had abandoned the funeral because he couldn’t stand looking at the bodies of his dead friend's no more could he stand the river styx. He went to the celebration after the war that was really mostly a birthday party for Percy Jackson.

“ Did you even love him?” she asked. She felt his body tense, it was a statement that she couldn’t take back, and one he couldn’t ignore. “ Now leave. I wish to be left alone.

She felt him get off her shoulder and turned to look at him. He had some unreadable expression, something between content and destain. She noticed his arms, that went tense, and noticed he had balled his hands in his fist.

“ You’re angry, I understand. You have every right to be. But I’m not going to watch you die mourning the dead. Your tired, and you need to eat and sleep. I will drag you out of this cemetery by your braids if you try to fight me on it. “ he spoke calmly. His face settling into something quiet. His body still rigid with anger but his face content with understanding. “ You’ve done good. The funerals are over, and they are buried. It’s time to come home, you can mourn them from there.”

“I would like to be left alone.”

Will sauntered away, muttering something to herself and shaking his head. He wandered his way all the way to Cabin 3. The smell of salt water radiating off of it before he got even close to it.

To be honest, will always hated that color. It was a mix between teal and swamp green. The outside of the cabin looked... proud. WIth 15 feet tall pillars and a large green door with childrens crayons drawings on them. No doubt made by Tyson and hung by Percy. Tyson and Percy were about as close as brothers as anyone could be, and Will distained them.

They weren’t real brothers. They had only known each other for a few years and they spent most of their time apart. Brotherhood went beyond blood and anyone who cared to know that, Will made the effort to smile to.

He found Percy on the porch, his arms draped over Anabeth, who was reading the latest issue of Architect Digest. Anabeth was engrossed in the book and Percy was engrossed in her, sniffing her hair that somehow always smelled like coconuts.

“ Will-” Percy started. Percy looked up at him. His green eyes looked darker in the night time. His jet black hair seemed unchanged. Will hadn’t looked at Percy in a while. Really taken him in since he became invested in the war.

Percy had changed alot. Looked a tad like Luke but shorter and stronger. It wouldn’t be odd if someone mistake d him from a young god that got lost and ended up in the mortal world. His face was calm and relaxed, His jaw was unclenched for the first time in a while, finally letting himself relax because the war was over.

The war was finally over, but Will wasn’t ready to move on.

“ I’m worried about Y/N.”

“ I would be worried if you wern’t.” Anabeth said, her eyes not looking up,still engrossed with whatever she was reading and popsicle stick bridges that could hold pennies.

“ She’s at the cemetery.” he said stiffly. His bright smile was gone and replaced with a cold one. Something sick and stiff.

“ I would be surprised if she wasn’t.” Percy laughed.

“ She hasn’t left since the funeral.”

They both looked up the hill and past the trees at her. Her slumped over the headstone of someone’s grave. She looked so small from far away. Like fragility had danced across her , and raked itself across her body.

“ Can you talk to her?”

Percy could almost laugh. He was possibly the worst person to talk to her. Y/N didn’t like Percy, and that was evident.She would always look upon him with a fatal destain, and when they stood to close together she would always turn up her nose. As if he smelled like road kill.

“ That isn’t a good idea.” he stated, biting his teeth, wishing to say that the last thing he wished to do was talk to her. “ She doesn’t like me.”

“ She actually thinks very highly of you.”

“ Why can’t you talk to her.”

“I’ve tried. Will you do this one thing for me?”

Wills yellow eyes bore into Percy and he felt that he could not say no. If anyone owed anyone anything. Percy owed will. Though Percy had no knowledge of this, his brother was dead because of him. Drowned on a bridge, Percy had also forced away the boy that Will thought he would love one day. That Percy knew about. Guilt shot its way through Percy, here he was, arms draped around Annabeth, the girl he knew that he loved, smiling and preening like a peacock.

“ Okay.” he spoke. Will nodded slightly, then walked away, he had no other reason to stay.

He pushed Annabeth away and stood. Will looked at Percy and finally understood why people would mistake him for godly. His face was smooth and mostly unmarked, minus a few scars that didn’t make him look ugly, but heroic. His body looked chistled, and the muscles that were visible underneath his clothes were sharp and hard edged like a blade had cut away at the useless things like fat.

He walked off the porch and up the hill, taking a moment to admire the trees. He never had a reason t gaze upon them before, having never seen the value of them. But now that he almost died, more times than a daredevil would enjoy he appreciated them. He ran his fingertips along the bark. It was rough and bumpy, and ants crawled along it.

He continued his way to the cemetery. The air turned cold and stale. It seemed as if Y/N was in such hysterics that she didn’t notice, or she had given up on her personal safety and didn’t care. She detached herself from the grave, and now sat upright. Gripping at the soil, which had somehow grown moist suddenly. Percy clicked his tongue, hoping to gain her attention. Her hands did not go for her knife, that she was so keen on keeping it close, instead they stayed on her lap. Criss crossed and in fist.

“ You’ve been up here a long time.”

“ You should send someone to check on me.” she stated clinically. Her hands unclenched and her body didn’t relax just seemed to get stiffer. She lifted her nose away from him.

“ You sound like Annabeth.”

“ And you sound like my mother.” she snapped. She meant what she said, and didn’t want to take back the cruel words that she pushed out of her throat and into her tongue.

It was meant to be a insult and Percy accepted it as one. It was no secret that Y/N hated her mother. She was a drunk and when she wasn’t drinking she was high and when she wasn’t high she was beating her. She lived alone with her mother until the age of 13, and had no one else in the household to interfere. She wished her mother dead instead of her father who drowned when she was a kid. It was one of her earliest memories, and the only thing she remembered was the palm of his hand above the cruel tide of the ocean fighting not to drown.

They never found a body and buried a empty casket. As she thought of her father she was glad that at least she had bodies this time, there is nothing more purposeless than an empty casket.

“ It’s time to go home.”

“ It’s time for you to leave.” she repeated. “ I have no need for your pity or concern. If I wanted to be babied then I would have let Will stay.”

“ I’m not gonna baby you.” he stated. He rested his hands on his hips and let his eyes drift to the graves. Some of them still unmarked. The cemetery used to be a lonely place, now it was crowded with ghosts. You could no longer be alone when you sat here, you would only be surrounded by a sickly feeling that made you want to leave.

“ You are.” she snapped. Her body went rigid and her jaw went tense once she was finished speaking.

“ That was not my intention.” he spoke, he jammed his fist in his jean jackets and bounced on his feet. He hated staying as motionless as she did.

“ Then what is your intention.”

“ I understand how you feel.” he bent at the knees and kneeled down next to her before falling backwards on his butt next to her. A small grunt left his lips as he landed and for a feeble second he understood why she sat where she did. It made things seem unreal and the world look smaller than it was. Like it would collapse in his palm if he wished it.

“ You don’t.”

“ This war... it took alot from me. It’s hard to grieve when you're trying to do so many things, and when it hits you it hits you so hard it knocks you over. It makes a gaping hole in your chest and your stomach. And every time you think about them you just fall in it. The hole never goes away, it just gets smaller. You won’t forget them. I never have, you think about them when it’s the little things that are missing, and when you remeber them, you fall into that hole all over again.”

“ Was that supposed to be inspirational?” she asked.

“ No... it was supposed to be true.”

She raised her eyebrows before her face changed into something unreadable.

A moment passed between them, It was silent and still, even the trees which waves kept blowing and rustling agaisnt themselves and the cicadas stopped singing, as if a god themself wished them quiet. Percy hated the silence.

“ You sitting here, wasting away won’t make them any less dead. They will always be dead, nothing will change that. But I know they wouldn’t want you sitting here sad and alone.”

Her face shifted into a noticeable anger that she bothered not to hide, her arm went floppy as she felt rage pierce her skin and enter her bloodstream and pinpointing to every nerve ending in her body.

“ THEY DON’T WANT ANYTHING THEY’RE DEAD.” she rose to her feet, the anger shot through her spine making her want to stand. Percy feeling threateend stood as well. “ THEY ARE ALL DEAD THEY DON’T WANT ANYTHING. THEY HAVE NO MORE THOUGHTS NO MORE FEELING NO MORE ANYTHING.THEY ARE GONE!”

She looked at his face. And resented it. It was still warm and tepid and that made her angry, she had turned cold surrounded by all this grief and he still had it in him to be warm.

“ Calm down-”

“ YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, I’VE LOST EVERYTHING. I HAVE NO ONE. EVERYBODY I KNEW IS IN A CASKET. I AM ALONE” her body felt loose, the gravity of the truth of her statement sat on her shoulders and made her slump. Tears dripped down her face and she made no effort to hide them.

“ You have me.” Percy offered.

“ I don’t have you. “ she stood taller, getting angry at his words. “ Annabeth has you, Grover has you, Rachel has you. Clarisse has you, Will has you. I have no one.”

“ You’re parent-”

“ Hasn’t claimed me. They won’t ever claim me. All my cabin mates are getting families and I just burried mine.”

Percys throat felt dry as if all the water was stolen from the air, he hung hi head in shame, embarrassed at his inability to breathe, He became aware of the water pooling at his feet. He looked to the trees, which had started to dry and brown, the moisture having been sucked out of it.

No, this was not his doing. It was either the work of his father, which he doubted or the work of a monster who wished him dead.

“ I fought, I worked , I sacrificed so much already. You don’t get to feel empty like I do, you have everything I want, you have everything you need. You have people to miss you when you’re gone.”

Water pooled at her feet and she payed no mind to the puddle she found herself in. She swung her arms around her in anger, she was so angry that it took over her eyes. Percy looked at them, searching for something more calm. He never noticed her face before. It was pointy with smooth features. Smooth skin and a wide flat nose. Never noticed her eyes which he always assumed was grey like a storm cloud. Similar to Annabeth, but they were green. The shade of saltwater soaked steel that was neglected and turned green.

“ Your father claimed you the second you got to camp! I thought I would finally get to be happy. I’ve been fighting since I was a child. I’m done-” she gritted.

“ Calm down.”

“ DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW THEM. CAN’T EVEN REMEBER THEIR NAMES.THEY WERE JUST PEOPLE TO YOU, PEOPLE IN YOUR STORY. THEY WERE MY LIFE! DON’T STAND HERE AND PRETEND TO MOURN.” Her eyes glowed like the full moon in a cloudless sky. “ YOU HAVE NO RIGHT.” her voice sounded like many people speaking at once.

Percy pulled his pen from his pocket, and it grew to a sword. Her toes lifted from the ground and her hair lifted from her shoulders. For a moment, if only for a second she looked afraid. Her eyelids melted into her eyelids with fear and she looked around for help, before anger over took her. Her eyebrows lifted and she jutted out her chin with a prideful smile. She tilted her head violently to left.

It struck Percy with a word that he coldn’t explain. He wasn’t afraid, but wasn’t not afraid either. He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, and bent his knees waiting for a blow.

“ WHO ARE YOU?” he called.

She laughed at him causing the trees to quiver as even more water was sucked from their veins. Percy heard a faint whistling echo through the trees. A celestial bronze ripped through the air and implanted itself in her shoulder. That same look of fear flashed across her face, before her body went limp and she fell to the ground.

Thalia stood at the bottom of the hill. Her bow already loaded with another arrow. Not because she was afraid that she would miss. Hunters of Artemis. Percy nodded at her, and she lowered her bow and nodded back and started up the hill.

Percy looked at her. Her body weak and frail and small. But I did not lose his attention with how much wait she lost, or her odd behavior, but was at her head. Not because it was bashed in. It was what was floating just above her her head. A three pronged trident.

She was just claimed. She was the daughter of Posiden. Daughter of the Sea God.

taglist

#percy jackson fanfic #leah is our annabeth #pjo #percy jackson x siser reader #the big three #greek gods #percy jackson x reader #will solace x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackon and the Olympians #percy and grover

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