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The sounds of battle and duel were familiar to every combat soldier of war. No matter how seasoned a veteran you were, you knew the sounds of war. The more experienced fighters could often tell whether the battle was a friendly practice or a very real threat. But even they misidentified it sometimes.
And with Percy Jackson, you could never tell when he wanted to just have a friendly spar, or if he wanted to tear you apart.
He had this intensity about him that everyone felt as he walked by. They knew not to mess with him or anyone he loved. The few people who were skilled or brave enough to spar with him, even for practice, saw a default, hard-set battle expression. His (admittedly good-looking) features hardened and his eyes swirled wildly with power.
Even Clarisse had no problem admitting that Percy Jackson could destroy any opponent if he really tried.
The only people in camp who could spar with him and hold their own without immediately being overwhelmed were Annabeth, Jason, and Clarisse. And all of them had verbally acknowledged that when they fought him, there was an air of resistance in his violent dance. It was like he was conscientiously holding back a considerable amount of talent and strength.
It became obvious one time when, shortly after the Titan War, Clarisse had asked him to spar. Percy had gotten too absorbed in the fight and stopped pulling his punches. There was a wild look in his eyes as the pretense of practice faded out of his brain, and he fought mindlessly as if he were back in the war.
Clarisse was on the ground in seconds.
Another time, Percy had been startled by another camper dropping and shattering a glass behind him in the mess hall. The other camper didn't even have time to blink before Percy had leaped out of his bench seat, flipped off the table, and had the camper in a deathly hold, pinning him to the ground, with the tip of his celestial bronze sword at his throat.
It had not been a good day for anyone. Percy's eyes had cleared out of whatever fog they had been obscured by before, and he dropped his sword as if it were a burning, red hot ember. Thankfully, it was angled away from the camper, otherwise, his throat would have been slit. Percy had stood up, backed away, looking wildly around, and with a stuttered apology, he'd fled from the hall, not even responding to Annabeth's call of his name.
It had taken a while for him to forgive himself for that, even when the camp had long done it themselves.
That was when the camp realized their hero wasn't just a hero. He was also a boy.
Percy leaned against the ship's railing heavily. He breathed in the fresh, cold air that stung his nose and throat as it made its way into his lungs. His dark hair was blowing wildly in the wind, longer than it had ever been before.
He needed a haircut after all this was over.
They were at sea, finally. Heading towards another battle. It had only been a few days since closing the Doors of Death, and Percy found that every time he closed his eyes, he only saw the hazy, toxic red of Tartarus's walls.
He'd volunteered to take the first three night shifts. The others had protested.
You need your rest, Perce.
You deserve time off, dude.
Don't be a hero, bro, come on.
He still recoiled thinking about how fragile everyone thought him to be. He didn't need rest (okay, yeah he did. But he couldn't rest). He didn't need to be babied like this. They wouldn't understand that he couldn't rest easy anymore without being on watch. He was all the time in Tartarus. The last time he'd gotten a straight ten minutes of sleep was weeks ago.
He'd stayed up all night (or whatever time it was. It was hard to tell when it was always night) while Annabeth slept. And that was when he could somewhat relax. Knowing that he had a responsibility, a purpose. To watch, to protect.
Sleeping felt foreign. He wasn't used to not being on alert.
Even now, on the safety of the Argo II, surrounded by his friends, he paid attention to every whisper in the wind, every churn of the ocean water below.
Every beat of the heart he heard in the back of his brain.
He took it all in.
His hands were jittery with unnecessary anxiety. He needed to do something, to fight something. He wasn't used to staying out of trouble this long. The peace was almost taunting him.
So when he heard the light breathing behind him, he wasn't startled when someone started walking.
He recognized the walking pattern. He'd memorized everyones' on the ship. It was a skill he'd only developed when he had needed to know if it was Gabe or his mother coming to his room.
"Hey, Jason," he said into the darkness, not taking his eyes off the water in front of him.
Jason stilled close behind him.
"Percy? Why are you still awake?"
He resisted the urge to sigh. They all tried to insist he got some sleep.
He'd tried arguing, but they wouldn't relent.
They didn't understand.
But Percy didn't mind. He loved them all, he did. And he appreciated the fact that they cared.
But could they not shove off a little bit?
He shrugged, nonetheless. He heard Jason move a bit closer.
He felt a sudden hand on his shoulder, and he tensed immediately. The feeling of physical touch was too foreign to him. It was sudden and close. Too close.
Percy flinched back, grabbing Jason's wrist and twisting his arm back behind his head, shoving him against the rail.
Realizing what he'd done, Percy let go of Jason and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, stopping mid-stroke to grab some of it and yank it roughly. Gods, look at him. Can't even go two hours without doing something reactive and stupid.
"Gods, Jason. I'm sorry," he'd said, pouring meaning into every word he said.
Jason nodded, understanding. "Don't worry about it, bro. Just a reflex?"
Percy nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, gripping his pen tightly. He leaned back over the railing, sighing.
Jason joined him, silently looking at the dark horizon while staring at the son of Poseidon out of the corner of his eye. Nothing slipped past Percy, but he decided against saying anything.
Jason noted the slightly jittery stance of his friend and knew what he needed.
"Care to spar?" he asked, leaving the question open.
Percy startled, looking at him briefly before shrugging and nodding. Jason grinned, unsheathing his sword, which he'd taken to wearing whenever he was on guard duty. (And for caution)
Percy hesitated, having some internal battle of some sort. But he quickly shook it out of his face and uncapped his sword. Looking at the slightly glowing blade still made Jason a bit uneasy.
They faced each other, silently waiting for the other to attack first.
Jason stalled. And then he charged.
Percy quickly and easily sidestepped, blocking Jason's blade with his own, and forcing an area of vulnerability onto the other fighter. But Jason was quick to readjust. But not before Percy lunged at him, slamming the flat of his sword against his ribcage. Jason grunted, a bit disheveled. But he quickly recovered.
He swung his leg out, intending to kick Percy's legs out from under him, but the boy was too fast. Too alert. He pushed off from the deck, flipping over the blond and landing smoothly on the other side. He wasted no time in slashing again with Riptide. Jason barely had time to stand up before he was knocked to the ground again by the hilt of Percy's sword colliding with his chest again.
He was too fast.
Jason was starting to admit defeat.
He reached out with his blade in a weak attempt the provide resistance, but Percy did a complicated twist with his own sword at the base of Jason's, and it clattered out of his hand and skidded across the deck.
Percy pushed his foot on top of Jason to keep him there and leveled the tip at his throat.
"Dead," he declared, smirking a bit.
Jason frowned. He'd have to get creative.
He had an idea.
He called the winds, and they answered his summons and the air picked up. He pushed off of it to throw Percy off of him. He was in the air.
He grabbed Percy by the shoulders and spiraled upwards.
But Percy struggled. He kicked out of Jason's grip and went tumbling to the deck of the ship. The sound he made when he hit the wood made Jason flinch. he quickly flew back down to see if Percy was okay, but as soon as he landed, he was met with a wild attack from a bronze sword.
Percy thrust toward him. There was a wild fear in his eyes as he slashed and jabbed, and stabbed and attacked. He wasn't holding back anymore.
His technique was no longer recognizable. It had never been distinctly anything. Percy had his own techniques, but this one was even more out of line than usual. He swung wildly and mercilessly. It was all Jason could do to not get caught by the deadly blade.
He didn't know what was going on.
It wasn't long before he was pinned against the railing again, but this time, Percy's hand was around his throat. He squeezed harder and harder, and Jason felt the breath leave him. He'd never been truly scared of the son of Poseidon before, but now, his heart raced with fear and his brain wildly told him he was in danger.
"Percy!" he choked out.
It may have been the familiar voice or the sudden realization, but Percy snapped out of it.
He had the same wild fear in his eyes, but he seemed to be more conscious. His hand released Jason's throat and his sword clattered to the ground. He backed up frantically. His breathing was shallow and sporadic. He looked around wildly, spotting his sword on the ground.
He picked it up and withdrew the cap from his pocket.
But he couldn't sheath his sword. Jason soon saw why.
His hands were shaking so badly that the cap fumbled in his grip, He couldn't even touch the cap to the tip of his sword. He wanted it gone, but he couldn't put it away.
Jason took a step forward to help him, but Percy jerked back, brandishing the sword at his neck.
"Don't move any closer!" another voice commanded.
Jason felt himself obey. He stopped in his tracks and turned to see who else was there. He did not expect Nico di Angelo to be standing there, arms crossed and eyes alert.
"Step back, Jason."
Jason stepped back.
Nico moved closer. He was more gentle than Jason had ever seen him before. Slowly, he approached Percy.
"Percy, it's me. It's Nico."
Percy looked up at the sudden voice. His eyes were wide.
"Stop," he demanded, and Jason felt the command in his bones.
Nico stopped.
"Okay."
Percy blinked, recognition fighting for control in his brain.
"Nico?"
"That's right, Percy. I'm Nico."
Percy let out a breath. A long, drawn-out sigh.
"Hey, dude," Nico muttered, smiling slightly. "Can you take a few more of those deep breaths for me? In and out, in and out."
Percy followed the words with his breathing, and slowly, reality began to come into focus. Jason almost watched a layer of concealment wash out of Percy's eyes as he began to get his bearings.
Nico moved closer.
"How are you doing, Perce?"
Percy looked at him. "Fine."
Nico laughed. The last thing Jason felt like doing. Or hearing from the son of Hades.
"Sure."
He got more serious. "What was it this time?"
This time. There had been more, much more, Jason realized. His friend was suffering and no one had known. But then, that was the way Percy wanted it. Only the people who'd been through what he had were able to help. They knew the signs. And since Annabeth was sleeping (miraculously), Nico was the next best person.
Percy sank down the railing and put his head between his knees. It hurt Jason to see him like this. Their strong, unbeatable hero. The one whose face lit with smiles and whose voice uttered jokes as if there was no tomorrow (not funny, Jason, he told himself. There very well may be no tomorrow).
He finally realized that it was just a mask.
Percy was just hiding under humor and sarcasm.
Because he'd always done it.
"I was falling," Percy muttered quietly.
Nico grimaced. He glanced at Jason and the fallen sword on the ground, and understanding flooded his eyes.
Jason understood too.
He had fallen into Tartarus. How could he be so stupid?
Nico shook his head at Jason, and Jason knew he deserved it.
"You're not falling anymore."
Percy nodded. "I know."
Jason felt like an outsider. He didn't belong here while two of the three Hell survivors on this ship tried to work through the trauma.
Silently, he left, but not before noticing the hug Nico gave Percy, once he ensured they were both (as far as he could see) alone.