You Give Liberty a Bad Name (a Percy Jackson AU)

Valley Forge

Valley Forge: 1777-1778

      "Will this work?" Nico asked Will.

      "It will be risky, but it will save many lives," Will answered. "Some men may die, but many will be saved. Here, our greatest enemy is not the British, but the ailments sent by God."

    Nico shivered. It was true. In the frigid weather at Valley Forge, dozens of men had already died, succumbing to illnesses that were harder to fight than the most competent Redcoat.

Nico winced as Will pressed the smelly liquid into his cut. It stung at the contact and he flinched and gritted his teeth. After a few seconds, the pain stopped and Nico looked at the cut. It appeared mostly the same: an unhealed patch of skin that was now wet. The smell coming from it made Nico's nose wrinkle. He wondered how Will could handle it all, but then again, Will was something special.

****

The snow crunched beneath Percy's feet as he made his way back to his tent. He had gone outside to relieve himself. He didn't want to add to the putrid stench of the place while his limbs were still supple enough to lead him to where he needed to be.

The wind whistled in Percy's ears as he walked and the coldness seemed to grasp at his skin. It tried to persuade him to just stop walking; it tried to tell him that it was stronger and that fighting was useless. Percy hated the cold weather; it was even more arrogant than the British.

     As he headed back to camp, Percy heard two people speaking. Their voices were loud and strident and Percy suspected the two were arguing. He stopped as he recognized the clear, ringing voice of Annabeth and the loud growl of Luke.

"You need to get inoculated!" Annabeth insisted.

"No," Luke said. "It's against God's plan."

"Luke, it could save your life," Annabeth said.

"She's right," Percy said, the snow crunching under his feet as he strode towards them. "It could also save the lives of others. Smallpox is a deadly killer; you should protect yourself."

     "I will follow the advice of my preacher and not sin against the Lord lest he strike me with smallpox," Luke said before turning away and leaving Annabeth and Percy behind.
***

    Since the death of Odysseus, Calypso had lost her will to live. She didn't want to die so much as curl up and never wake up from her blissful dreams where she was in his arms once more. Calypso still worked hard — it was the only thing keeping her going, but life seemed more like a chore and less like a privilege with each passing day.

    One day, Calypso was fetching the laundry she had hung out to dry (in the cold the water often froze over the clothing and Calypso had to scrunch out the ice) when she saw it was ablaze. She wondered if a Redcoat could have done it, but none had been sighted for days. She stepped back, recoiling from the blast of sudden heat. Smoke filled the air, causing Calypso to cough and wrinkle her nose at its acrid scent.

    I must save the laundry, Calypso thought numbly, but she was frozen by a fiery blast of heat as the flames spread further, licking their way towards the snow-covered, bare bushes. Calypso saw a flash of color and heard a scream as a slight figure darted forward, throwing a canteen of water on the flames. They merely cracked and spread forward.

    The figure sighed, wiped his brow, and turned to face Calypso. He had curly hair like Odysseus, but in other ways, he was the man's opposite. He was short and slight instead of broad and muscular and he had not the slightest hint of stubble. He was covered in soot, but there was a twinkle in his warm brown eyes that reminded Calypso of Odysseus.

       "You can't stay here, Sunshine," the man said.

      "My name isn't Sunshine!" Calypso retorted. "What are you doing here you wild boy?"

     "Trying to put out this fire," the man said. "My name is Leo and I suspect we'll see each other in the future."

    "I hope not," Calypso snorted, but as she watched him put out the flames, she wondered if she had told him the truth.
***

Luke's forehead felt like a hot cup of tea underneath Annabeth's fingers. Her hand was still cold from walking outside and she hoped its coolness would help Luke's fever go down. She had begged for him to be inoculated, but he had refused and now he was laying in bed, his skin covered in angry, red bumps.

"Luke, why didn't you listen to me?" Annabeth whispered to herself.

Luke's eyes fluttered. He coughed and then his eyes opened fully. He was wheezing and looked paler then normal, but he managed a small grin.

"Annabeth, I should have listened to you," Luke said, coughing between words.

His breathe smelled as foul as rotten meat and when he gripped her hand with his own, Annabeth was aware of the heat coursing through his body.

"I was too proud," Luke continued. "I want you to know something before I'm gone—"

"Luke!" Annabeth said fiercely, ordering him to stay alive with that one syllable.

"I want you to know that I loved you," Luke said. "But I hope you can find it in your heart to move on. Find a good husband and raise a family. Promise me."

"Luke, who could I ever love after you?" Annabeth asked.

"Percy," Luke said. "He cares about you even if he hides it. Don't let what could have been eat you alive forever or you'll only add more regrets to your list. Annabeth, promise me you will carry on."

"Luke, I'll abide by your words," Annabeth said.

She gave him a kiss on the forehead. He smiled faintly and squeezed her hand. Annabeth stood there, caring for him until his time came.