ᴀɪᴜᴛᴀɴᴛᴇ ¥ ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ¥ ᴀɴɴᴀʙᴇᴛʜ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ

ᴡᴇ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴄ.ᴄ.'ꜱ ꜱᴘᴀ & ʀᴇꜱᴏʀᴛ

I woke up in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of grey uniform fabric. Annabeth sat next to me, tacking into the wind. Aster was facing the sea, his back in the line of my vision. His brown, almost curls were brushed back from the wind. He was wearing a simple black and white zebra printed shirt with black jeans and sneakers. A bandana was tied on his head from what I could tell.

I tried to sit up and immediately felt woozy.

"Rest," she said. "You're going to need it."

"Tyson ... ?"

She shook her head. "Percy, I'm really sorry."

Aster's gaze shifted towards me, and in an instant, his eyes transformed into stormy clouds. I gulped as I wondered what could have triggered such anger in him. "Just don't get up. You will feel dizzy if you do. You blacked out pretty hard." He wasn't wrong about that. I felt like I could throw up.

"What in the gods fucking hell were you thinking when you pulled that stunt and decided to leave my side?" I looked down, suddenly feeling guilty and decided to stay silent.

"Goddamn fucking answer, me Perseus Jackson and stop looking at the boat!" he suddenly snapped, causing me to jolt my gaze towards his face, a twinge of fear creeping in. The use of my full name is never good.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, feeling ashamed.

Inhaling deeply, he moved closer, settling beside me, his hand firmly cupping my chin. "My Percy, never do that again. Never leave me. Never inflict such pain upon me. This world won't endure it," he murmured, our foreheads touching each other. His grasp tightened, fingers securing the nape of my neck, while the other hand gripping my waist tightly enough that I almost ended up on his lap. The thought of that position seemed a little too inappropriate for two 13 year old kids, not to mention Annabeth was right here and that was more mortifying than anything.

We were silent while the waves tossed us up and down.

"He may have survived," she said half-heartedly, referring to Tyson. "I mean, fire can't kill him."

I nodded, still within his grasp. I had no reason to feel hopeful. I'd seen that explosion rip through solid iron.

If Tyson had been down in the boiler room, there was no way he could've lived.

He'd given his life for us, and all I could think about were the times I'd felt embarrassed by him and had denied that the two of us were related.

Waves lapped at the boat. Annabeth showed me some things she'd salvaged from the wreckage—Hermes's thermos (now empty), a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia, a couple of sailors' shirts, and a bottle of Dr Pepper. She'd fished me out of the water and found my knapsack, bitten in half by Scylla's teeth.

Most of my stuff had floated away, but I still had Hermes's bottle of multivitamins, and of course, I had Riptide.

The ballpoint pen always appeared back in my pocket no matter where I lost it.

We sailed for hours. Now that we were in the Sea of Monsters, the water glittered a more brilliant green, like Hydra acid. The wind smelled fresh and salty, but it carried a strange metallic scent, too—as if a thunderstorm were coming. Or something even more dangerous.

I knew what direction we needed to go. I knew we were exactly one hundred thirteen nautical miles west by northwest of our destination. But that didn't make me feel any less lost.

No matter which way we turned, the sun seemed to shine straight into my eyes.

We took turns sipping from the Dr Pepper, shading ourselves with the sail as best we could. And we talked about my latest dream of Grover.