NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

one hundred and eight: the pep talk.

THE NEXT MORNING, Brooklyn was rudely awakened by someone banging on her door.

"Brooks!" Leo yelled. "Control your boyfriend!"

She frowned, before realizing that she could hear water. A shit ton of water.

Groaning, she flung herself out of bed, rolling to her feet before gingerly opening the door.

And, sure enough, the floor was covered with water, up to her ankles. She shrieked and jumped back, yelling, "Percy!"

He was standing at the end of the hallway, staring up at the stairs. He turned to her, his angry expression fading when he saw her. Simp. "Tinkerbell?"

"Can you not flood the ship this early in the goddamn morning?" Brooklyn rubbed her eyes, grimacing as water flooded into her room. "And if you are, at least make the water heated. I think I have a bikini somewhere in my closet."

"Right," Percy stared at her, outstretching his hands and the water started to go up the stairs and away. He wasn't paying attention to anything else, just her.

She smirked at him. "You're down bad," she told him, before turning around. "When you're done with that, you're coming in here with breakfast and cuddles."

Then she shut the door to her room and nearly slipped because her feet were wet.

"Fuck you, Moana," she muttered before grabbing one of his hoodies that was very conveniently in her room and throwing it to the ground, wiping her feet on it. Sucks to suck, Percy.

For clothing, she threw on another one of Percy's hoodies that, once again, she conveniently had in her closet. She was trying to figure out how to put on a necklace she had of a volleyball when someone knocked on the door, then opened it.

"Hey—" Percy nearly slipped on the hoodie that Brooklyn had left on the floor, almost dropping the two plates he was holding. "Holy shit. Why is my hoodie on the ground?"

"I almost slipped from your meltdown, you almost slip from the effects of your meltdown," she declared, brushing her hair on either sides of her shoulders. "Help me put this on."

". . . yeah, alright." She saw as he put the plates down on her nightstand and walked toward her from the reflection in the mirror. He grabbed her necklace and squinted as he attached the two sides together. "You okay?"

Brooklyn resisted the urge to shrug. "Are any of us okay?"

"Alright, emo bitch." Even if she couldn't see Percy in the mirror, she could practically feel him roll his eyes. She heard a little click, and he said, "There."

"Thanks, Perce." She turned on her chair so she was facing him, poking his chest, which was eye level to her. "I guess . . . I wasn't as affected by Tartarus as much as you and Annabeth were. I mean, I can't eat two thirds of my meals and I have horrible nightmares, but you have it worse."

"It's not a competition, you know." He put his fingers under her chin and raised it so she was looking at him.

"I know, but still. I talked to J Money yesterday, that really helped," she shrugged. "It helps to talk to someone who wasn't there. Maybe you should invest in it."

"Yeah . . ." he stared down at her, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. "Can I ask you something?"

"Might make me laugh, but sure."

"That doesn't make anyone feel better, you know that?"

"Can't say I'm not honest."

He sighed, probably really tired of her presence, but he signed up for this as her knight in shining armor.