The Curse // pjo

Chapter Twelve // Dam This Day

I sat in the back of the old pickup truck we had found with Ric, Percy, and Grover. Thalia and Zoë were in the cab.

    And anything said to me was lost in the garbage disposal of my brain.

    Instead, I just had my eyes closed, my head leaning back against the side with Ric's head on my shoulder. Seeing Ric withdraw and seeing him so distant and almost...dead-like, made my heart literally shatter in my chest, so instead of just standing by and doing nothing, something drew me to him, and I hadn't left his side since. And he made no move to leave it.

    If Ric hadn't just lost his sister, Percy would have been sitting between us, but he didn't. Instead, he gave us our space, and we were all silent in general.

    Ric would twitch every once in a while, and I knew he was dreaming.

    I wish I could sleep, but I couldn't, not after what happened.

    But I knew that the di Angelo boy was probably just escaping now. Just escaping the fact that he had just lost his sister and now had to go back to camp and explain to his little brother what had happened. That Bianca was never going to visit ever again. That she would never hug him again or make him laugh.

    That he didn't have a big sister anymore.

    I felt sick suddenly at all these thoughts I was having.

    And then Percy didn't help.

    "It should've been me. I should've gone into the giant."

    My eyes snapped open, and my head snapped to my brother as the wind blew hair into my eyes.

    "Don't say that!" Grover bleated panickedly. "It's bad enough Annabeth is gone, and now Bianca. Do you think I could stand it if...Do you think anybody else would be my best friend?" Grover looked at me, and he knew that I would have shot down Percy's statement if I had any energy.

    My throat closed up at his words and the sincerity in his eyes.

    "Ah, Grover..." Percy hummed, his eyes looking at me, sorrow oozing from them. 

    "I'm... I'm okay." Grover sniffled, wiping his face with a gross oilcloth.

    As I watched Grover almost fall apart in front of me and then looked down at Ric's pinched face, I knew I couldn't be all quiet and broken.

    I met eyes with my brother, and I knew we were having the same thoughts. 

    We had to be strong. We didn't have a choice.

    We should have had the choice, but we didn't.

    The old truck ran out of gas at the edge of a river canyon, which was funnyish because the road was a dead-end.

    Thalia hopped out of the truck and slammed the door, making the tire pop, "Great. What now?"

    Ric groaned as he woke up, the bags under his eyes prominent against his abnormally pale skin.

    Something in his gaze told me he had dreamed of something he would internalize.

    Trust me. I knew that look. I had that look most days. And so did Percy, even though he liked to deny it.

    Almost every demigod or half-blood had that look a majority of the time. Because that's what we all did.

    Because we didn't have a choice.

    I gave him a small smile, trying to convey reassurance, before looking around us.

    We were in the middle of the desert, nothing really helpful in sight.