Piper sees scars on Percy that couldn't be from a monster / at least the magical kind

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

A/N: I've always had this headcanon that Gabe abused Percy. So this happened.

It was cold for an August evening.

Piper wrapped her ratty old cardigan around her camp shirt tightly. She could hear the wind whistling around the crests of the waves as they beat against the sand. She didn't know why she wasn't at the Pavilion eating dinner like the rest of the campers, singing off-key and sharing knowing looks with Annabeth across the room. Instead, she was here, freezing her demigod behind off in August for no good reason. But she liked the smell of the salt and the stillness in the air that only the beach could offer.

A movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention and she squinted, trying to make it out. There was something swimming further out, cutting through the water effortlessly. Piper stood up silently, instantly regretting leaving her dagger in her underwear drawer instead of bringing it along. After all, you never know what could be within the confines of Camp Half-Blood, magical borders or not.

The figure came closer, and Piper could tell it was much smaller than she initially thought it was—probably another camper with the same idea as her. She dismissed it quickly, and with a sigh, sat back down against the rock. There were five of them, clustered to form a small indentation that could hold just about anything; from a change of clothes to a brooding, teenage demigod. Piper liked the spot because when seated at just the right angle, she could see the beach—but no one on the beach could see her. She witnessed many strange things from her hideaway. Travis Stoll and Katie Gardner getting into a serious spar over which take-out Chinese restaurant to order from, Nico and Rachel Dare building a sandcastle, Leo taking his magical wrench on a picnic, and some Apollo kids trying to convince Frank to turn into a starfish.

Her view of the ocean from her seat was minimal, to say the least. But she could just make out a figure stepping out of the water, a guy with dark hair, tangled with salt and ocean water.

Percy.

The thing about Percy Jackson is that he defied all of the stereotypical categories he should fall under. All of the categories that she (admittedly) placed him in as soon as she met him. He wasn't classically handsome like Jason, he didn't have the god-like muscular build. His front tooth was kind of crooked and when he smiled one side was higher than the other. He looked like a skater boy, attractive in a devilish kind of way, and never someone you could wholly trust. But the thing about Percy was that he was a hero—someone you would die for. He had his flaws, but Piper learned rather quickly that he couldn't be placed in a box. He defied almost everything; and as Annabeth would say often, even logic. And right now, he was brooding.

Percy was wet, his hair dripping little streams down his back. He paced along the stretch of beach, appearing and disappearing in her line of vision. With each step, he looked more upset. Percy paused and stretched like a cat, the muscles on his back stretching taut. That's when Piper noticed the scars.

Piper had never seen Percy shirtless. It was a surprising (and disappointing) fact that almost everyone shared. She would hear girls giggling about it in the locker rooms when Annabeth was teaching sword practice. Who had seen the most? For them—slivers of tan stomach here and there were all they got.

But right now, Piper wasn't so sure she wanted to be the first camper to see Percy shirtless. Not that is wasn't great. Percy was lean like a swimmer, with broad shoulders and hard muscles from years of battle. No, it was pretty wonderful. The scars, on the other hand, weren't.

They started along his back, winding around his shoulders to his abdomen. The scars were almost orderly in a sense, white ridges placed evenly apart from each other. An especially noticeable one started just below his left ribcage down to his hips, disappearing within the waistline of his low-slung swim trunks. Another reached from his right collarbone to above his heart, and yet another slashed across his ribcage. Piper knew the life of a demigod results in some pretty nasty battle scars—she had them to show herself. But Percy's were a different thing altogether, and that's what puzzled her the most.

The first thing about them was that they were faded, Piper pondered as Percy sat on the edge of the surf. As in, really faded—they looked like they had happened years ago. The second was that they looked almost deliberate, not sporadic and scattered like the scars you receive from battle. All of a sudden, Piper tasted bile in the back of her throat.

Sure, there had been rumors. Especially after Percy freaked out a couple nights ago at the campfire when Clarisse asked him about his old stepfather. But Piper hadn't even given it a second thought. Now she felt dizzy. Before she knew what she was doing, she was out of her hiding spot and jogging towards him.

Percy wasn't facing her direction and the roaring of the waves should've drowned out her footfalls, but as soon as she hit the sand he turned around.

"Oh, hey Pipes," he said, using Jason and Leo's nickname for her. His eyes were focused on the waves. "I thought everyone was at the Pavilion?"

"Everyone but me. And apparently, you too." she replied.

"Why aren't you with everyone else?"

"Hey, I could ask you the same question." she said, examining his face. He smirked dryly.

"Just getting some air."

"Me too." Piper sat beside him. In the failing light, his scars looked ghastly. She looked at him, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like he realized why she was staring.

They sat in silence for a while.

"A monster," Percy said abruptly. Piper looked up, startled. Percy noticed her confusion and continued. "The scars." he said, gesturing to himself somewhat awkwardly.

"They're horrible." Piper said before realizing it. She tucked a stray feather back into her hair and bit her lip.

"Monsters leave a lot of scars," Percy sighed, looking at her with eyes that matched the sea. "L- Like this."

"Monsters don't leave scars like that, Percy." she said in a hushed tone, like the weight of the matter was so big it couldn't be spoken of above a whisper.

Percy mouth quirked grimly.

"All monsters aren't magical. I knew that a long time before I knew I was a demigod." At that moment, Percy looked like he really had held the weight of the sky. He looked old and tired and sad. But then the look vanished. He stood up, stretching again.

"You look freezing, Piper," he said. He offered her his hand and she took it, standing up too. "I'll race you back to the cabins." Piper paused, examining him again. He looked more vulnerable than she had ever seen him, hair mussed and dripping, shoulders stiff in fake causality. His green eyes were almost pleading, like he needed her to say yes and ignore what she saw today, pretend it never happened. So she did.

"You're on."

Piper took off running, ignoring the voice in her head telling her to stop, telling her to not give up on the topic. But she pushed it down. If Percy wanted to talk, he could.

Although Piper forced the image out of her mind, she couldn't stop thinking about his face when she'd started talking about monsters. He was right. Not all monsters are magical. Sometimes, they're human, and they leave horrible scars.

A/N: Percy definitely strikes me as the kind of guy who would act like everything is okay, when it clearly is not.

Thanks for reading!