All at Sea

05: Dial Tone

Content Warning ➙ implied/mentioned suicide


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47 missed called from Chiron.

That could mean one of two things to Percy; either something horrible had happened to somebody Annabeth cared for (maybe Percy, now that she thinks about it), or Annabeth had concluded that calling her phone would get the two in contact with each other.

Knawing at the inside of her cheek, Percy called back the number, each ring a stroke of hope and anxiety in her chest. The fourth ring was cut short, a frantic "hello" came through the line.

"Hello?" Percy replied, too nervous to think through a proper response.

"Percy?" The distorted voice that came through the speaker sounded remarkably like Annabeth, she let out a relieved curse in greek before she continued "Holy Hephaestus, Percy! It's been almost a week, you've been MIA, for five days. You didn't think to let anyone know that you were alive before you left camp to go gods know where? Percy, we've been going crazy trying to find you! We even tried looking at Sally's place. Nobody's heard from you until now! Wh- where are you? Are you safe?"

"Hey, Annie. I'm fine, I'm safe, I promise," Percy said demurely. "I- uh- I went home after she died—Gaea, I mean—but it turns out more had happened over our hunt for Gaea than I'd thought."

"I heard. Grover, he went to Sally's apartment to try and find you, and he said she wasn't there anymore." Despite the grainy aspect the phone speaker gave to Annabeth's voice, the grimness of the situation still oozed from the tone.

"It was really mundane, too," she tried for an apathetic laugh, but it sounded too much like a sob. "The social worker told me what happened; Sally and Paul were in a car accident, Paul didn't make it—neither did their unborn child, apparently—and Mom was so overcome by grief that she-" Percy couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Saying it out loud made it feel too real, too much like the doors of Hades were shunning her from her greatest comfort.

"Oh, Percy. I'm so sorry," Annabeth's consoling voice hugged her gently. "Where have you been since? You can always come back to camp, or if you need we can always come to you."

A bout of silence followed, the younger unsure of how to answer. "Don't you worry, they're releasing an official statement to the press this coming Tuesday. It'll be hard to miss."

The sigh was audible through the phone, distant speaking was heard before Annabeth directed her attention back to Percy. "Chiron is calling me, Perce. I'm sorry we couldn't talk more. Stay in touch, okay? Don't do that thing where you shut people out. I'll try and get a hold of you soon. I love you."

"I love you, too." The dial tone cut off anything else Percy may have wanted to say. She ran a hand down her face, licking at her lips before throwing herself onto the goose-down bed and letting out a long sigh.

♆♆♆

Her socks muffled the sound of her footfall ever so slightly. Roaming the large halls of the estate and getting lost in them for the sheer contentment of letting her body wander as freely as her mind.

Just after midnight seemed as good a time as any to familiarize herself with the mansion's layout, so Percy took to walking.

She could feel somebody trailing her, not that her follower gave anything away to let themselves be found, rather she could feel eyes on her back. Percy rolled her shoulders back, as though that would make the feeling dissipate. Turning around and leaning against the wall to feign casualness, the black wallpaper indents pressing against her bare arm lightly. She asked for her tracker to show themselves.

Bleary eyes and a silent yawn stepped from out of the shadows cast by the candelabras lining the wall. Tim ran a boney hand through his hair before apologizing, "Sorry, I just wanted to know where you were headed. Nobody really uses this hall, it leads to the back of the kitchens and a laundry room, I think."

"Have you slept? At all?" Percy redirected the conversation, concerned by the deep purple bags that hung beneath Tim's crystalline eyes.

"At some point, probably."

"Anytime recently?"

"Not important. How are you adjusting?"

"You know, I've had that asked so many times today. I mean I guess I'm doing fine."

"That's okay. I'm across the hall from you—by the way—and I'm usually awake, so don't shy away from asking for anything."

"Thanks."

He checks his watch, lips tightening momentarily before he announces he needs to go someplace. A nod follows in place of waving, Percy returns the gesture before continuing down the hallway to the double-hinged doors, pushing them open to see a dark room.

Upon entering the room, a sensor clicks on, light rods shining white lights onto the stainless steel counters of an impeccable kitchen. She pushed herself to sit on the polished surface, the cold seeping in through her worn jeans refreshingly.

She noticed a metallic mixing bowl with a pristine whisk on the counter adjacent to the ovens. A movement from one of the kitchen side doors (probably to the pantry) caught her eye. The door swung open wildly, its inertia letting it swing back and forth a couple more times as a hefty young man stepped through, muscular arms gingerly carrying a carton of eggs along with two large glass containers (and a smaller plastic one) of white powders of different grits.

Jason sets down all the ingredients before he notices Percy perched upon the island counter, a fast-paced song trailed the boy distantly from his cellphone speaker, his shoulders rocked lightly to the music while he mouthed the words. As soon as he did take note of her presence, he shoots he a well-practiced glare.

Rolling her eyes, Percy puts her hands up in mock surrender. "Relax, Dancing with the Stars, I come in peace." She moved both of her lifted hands into the Vulcan Salute.

"Get off the counter," he barked with no real heat before turning back to face what he was making, the glare gone.

"What are you making without a recipe?" she noticed the lack of measuring tools before adding to her prior statement, "... and without measurements?"

"Panetela," he told her, switching flawlessly into Spanish, the syllables soft and flowing. "You measure panetela with your heart, not your hands, Gringa."

"Hey! I'll have you know that I'm no gringa," an indignant complaint came from Percy, though she tripped over the 'R' in the word.

Jason looked her up and down before blowing his white streak of hair out of his face, compassion crosses his face shorty. "Wanna help? It's really hard to mess up."

Percy lit up in a grin, only now hopping off the counter and moving next to Jason, dwarfed by his size. He began explaining the basic premise of the dessert before they fell into a rhythm, working around each other well into the night.

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I do not own any PJO or DC content.

p.s. now you may be thinking, victoria, wtf was this? and i have a simple answer for you: i havent a clue.
u know that feeling when ur skin is like too tight and u can feel and hear everything??? not fun
fuck u *headcanons these characters as latinx* in case u were wondering, jason is fluent in spanish but he has like a really mixed accent that's almost neutral but not quite. percy understands spanish but she can't speak a word (cough~ sebastian ~cough)

n e ways,,, ilysm bye <3

Much love
Saturn ♄