should the high tide sweep me away tell me again my dear will you be waiting here: Written with the prompt Jason/Annabeth, lonely hearts, for the pjo_fic_battle. So I sort of cheated because the romance vibes are super weak sauce, and it kind of turned into a friendship fic. Whoops. Thanks for reading and reviewing.
more than anyone on the earth and i
like you better than everything in the sky
- e.e. cummings
First impressions are hard to erase.
Most people at Camp Half-Blood are naturally laid back and friendly toward newcomers (the obvious exception being during sparring and games of Capture the Flag where even the nicest of kids turn into bloodthirsty barbarians waving sharp, scary pointy things). Even after that whole awkward discovery when Jason's shady status as a former Roman camper, nobody's really given him much flack for it. It sort of feels as if being a Roman is oddly like coming from enemy lines, but they're all supposed to be on the same side, right? But either way, people have been accommodating about it, mostly seeing it as one of those things you can't control about yourself. Nobody's will begrudge him for what he can't remember anyway.
The blonde girl, though, the first Greek he met back on that day when he woke up on a school bus holding hands with Piper, she is a tough nut to crack. Ever since the beginning, he's gotten pretty definite negative vibes from her, and during duels, she gets a lot of satisfaction from beating him to a pulp. And it's not hard for her either. He's gotten steadily better, to the point where he can best almost all of the campers, but he's never beaten her. She's good. Really good.
After the quest and things started settling down again at camp, he decides that he wants to work with her more – you know, not in a skeezy way, like he wanted to hit on her or anything, but because he could use some pointers from her. She would be able to help him eliminate his weaknesses faster. She does train some of the more promising campers individually. So he thought he'd ask, but every time he brings it up, she changes the subject or finds some excuse to peace out. Actually, come to think of it, she does that a lot. Yep, Jason is almost positive she dislikes him. Why, though? He hasn't crossed her, as far as he knows. She's kept out of the way, mostly, out of everyone's way. She eats dinner with everyone and trains and gives tours and helps get newly claimed demigods to camp, all without complaint, but without a lot of heart, either.
By now he's heard all the nitty, gritty details about why she's so depressed. It's because that boyfriend of hers is missing. What's-his-name Percy Jackson, right, that everyone talks about in hush-hush tones, partly because hearing his name upsets Annabeth, but also because everyone here has this sense of awed admiration and almost religious devotion toward him. Percy is The Hero of camp. It only happened a few months ago, but the events of the Titan War have blown up to legendary proportions to where some parts of the story are stretched, some are completely made up, and some facts are totally thrown out the window in favor of a grander telling. It seems like every time the war is recounted, it gets greater in scope, more epic, more impossibly thrilling. The demigods who actually lived through it don't talk about it much, and Annabeth doesn't talk about it at all, not even when the new kids ask.
She doesn't talk about much these days. He should cut her some slack. Her boyfriend is gone. She's worried, and it's obvious to anyone who's looking that she's going to pieces, but she has to keep it together for the sake of her friends, Camp, Chiron. But he's selfish, and he's itchy and annoyed with his still-failing memory, and all he can do is be irritated at her space-case attitude and casual brush offs. So she can't take him seriously because he's Roman? He's been on a quest too. And from what he's heard and parts of what he remembers, the Romans took care of the Western front during the war, fighting on enemy soil. The Greeks were just defending home base, and everyone knows that going on the offensive in war is harder than holding ground. Maybe what frustrates him the most is if she were actually trying her best, she'd probably take him down without even breaking a sweat. As it is, she's holding back, not because she means to, but she's just never all there for any activity. And that drives him insane. He hates people who don't give one hundred percent. Even if eighty percent is enough for her to beat everybody, that doesn't give her an excuse to try less hard.
Slacker. Weak. In a real war, it's not safe to rely on someone who lets one thing undermine her overall performance. Jason wouldn't trust Annabeth in a war right now, no way, no how.
He's thinking all of these things, letting the resentment get to him one night, when he sees her wander off to the pavilion by the lake after dinner. Everyone clears out. This is his chance. He is not letting her slip away this time. The closer he gets to her, the angrier he is. He's proven his work ethic and his talent, and she puts in more work training lesser swordsmen than he. Where's the fairness? If there's one thing he remembers about Romans, it's that no matter what, they are fair to a fault. The Greeks are disorganized and have this weird avant-garde approach to training that he still finds difficult to stomach sometimes.
"Hey, Annabeth," he says, a little too loudly.
She turns around. It's unexpected and catches him off guard, but she is fiercely beautiful in the waning light of the evening. He always thought so, but in the way where you just kind of notice that some girls are super gorgeous, tuck that information away without any real intention of acting on it. Her gray eyes look almost black, for once lacking the dull blankness that characterizes them throughout the day.
He sits down next to her without giving her a chance to respond. "So, I need to talk to you."
Annabeth looks pained. "This isn't a good time; can it wait until tomorrow? I'm really tired."
"You only just came over here," he objects. You're not weaseling out of this one.
She lifts an eyebrow, bemused. "You were watching me at dinner. Okay. I'll take that in a flattering way and not a creepy way, kid." The glimmer of humor shines through with an almost smile. "Still doesn't mean I'm not tired, though. I'm checking in for the night."
"No," he says. "Nuh uh." He's aware he's beginning to come off as childish and hates it.
She purses her lips. "Fine. But you better make it quick. This better be some seriously urgent stuff." Crosses her arms like a sergeant. "Shoot."
"I want you to give me private lessons in swordsmanship."
"Haven't you asked this already?"
"Haven't you not actually answered the question all this time?" he retorts.
Annabeth gives a strained laugh and holds up her hands. "All right. Point taken." She doesn't answer for a long time. Just stares out at the lake, as if she's waiting for something to emerge from the surface, waiting and waiting with no result. Jason watches her fold her hands together and smooth the calluses endlessly under her fingertips.
"Why do you hate me?" he blurts out to break the silence. "Like, did I punch your grandmother in the face or run over your dog in my past life? Because I can't apologize for things I don't remember doing."
She stares at him for a moment, like she forgot he was there. "I don't know what to tell you, Jason," she says finally. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting. Maybe it's best that you just leave me alone. Better for both of us, actually."
"Okay, no. That's bullshit." He's pretty surprised with himself; he's not one to be blunt about things usually, but this is new, so he goes with it. "I want you to give me a real reason. Or tell me you had a bad experience with former sons of Jupiter and you're subconsciously holding onto all those bad emotions. Something."
For a second, she looks like she might backhand him, but then all that tension concentrates in the corners of her mouth. "You want to know? You really want to know? Don't ask for the answer if you don't, because you might regret it."
He almost reconsiders, but he's already gone this far, pissed her off past the point of future redemption, so whatever. "Yeah, I do. I can handle it."
She levels her gaze, gauges the damage she's going to do, aims and fires. "I admit it. I hate you."
The only thing that follows is stunned silence. The ripples of the water against the wood of the dock are abnormally loud.
"You want to know why?" she says, and without waiting for an answer, plows on. "Because you're the reason this is all messed up. Oh, I know it's not your fault. It's Hera's, that stupid, scheming bitch – don't shush me, I don't care if she's listening; I'm already on her hit list anyway – but you're supposed to be Percy's replacement?" She lets out a half-deranged laugh. "Are you kidding me? I'm not accepting that. I would love to tell you I'm this noble person who doesn't think or do irrational things, but I'm not. I can be strong for everyone here, but you can't ask me to sit here at camp, pretend like I'm not out of my mind with worry for Percy, and be best friends with his replacement, okay. I just can't do it." She swallows hard, and he notices there are tears in her eyes. Suddenly, he is very sorry that he brought anything up. If he could take it all back, he would. "I can't look at you and not think of who is supposed to be here in your place. Every time I see you go to bed safe in your cabin, I'm wondering if Percy has somewhere to sleep, if he's safe, if he's all right. If he remembers me. If he'll ever come back. I don't have any answers. I'm a daughter of Athena, and for once, I don't have any answers at all."
The sun has set, leaving only weak red rays bleeding over into the water. The shadows illuminate the worry in her face. Tentatively, Jason moves to put his hand over hers on the bench. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I'll go away if you want. But I think, out of everyone, I understand you best."
She looks up at him quickly.
"I mean, I got uprooted from my old life and planted here in a new one. Things have turned out all right, you know. I don't think I would've chosen to do the switch before it happened, if I had a choice, but I'm here now. I like everybody here. I'm glad that the two camps will be coming together." He thinks of Piper and her kaleidoscope eyes, the magic of watching her braid her hair. How amazing she is, and how he never would've met her if the switch didn't happen. Maybe Juno knew, or Venus. Maybe they meant for this to happen. "Piper and I," he begins, before a spasm crosses Annabeth's face, and he realizes that he's named her deepest fear.
"You don't have anyone waiting for you," she says flatly.
He does, though. He can't remember much of her – black hair, dark eyes, and earthy skin – but he remembers that they were together. "Reyna," he says. "I remember her. I don't think I love her, though. Or at least, if I did, I don't anymore." It sounds terrible coming out of his mouth. But it's true. Whatever was there, whatever happened, it's gone. He doesn't have a seed left of it. "Don't you think that sometimes, people change and—"
"I'll wait," Annabeth says. "He's coming back, and I'm waiting."
"What if he's different?" Jason hates himself for asking these questions, but he's looking at Annabeth, this stubborn, incredible, and yes, beautiful girl, in profile and looking out to sea like Penelope searching for her Odysseus, and he's afraid that if Odysseus doesn't return, she'll crack down the middle. He wants, more than anything, to put a smile on her face. To fix her. Or at least, to save her from the disappointment on the horizon.
"Do you think that'll make any difference to me? He has never once let me down. He has always promised to come back, and if you knew anything about him, you'd know he never breaks his promises. D'you know, I waited for him when I was holding the sky for Atlas and I waited for him when he landed on Calypso's island. He has always found me. So I'm not afraid of waiting." Her chin trembles. "I have thought about if he's different. Don't think I'm stupid. But I decided that if there was even the slightest chance he might be looking for me, well then, I'd be here waiting."
The pain splintering across her face is evident. Jason has to wonder, is there anyone at the Roman camp waiting for him with such dedication? Is there anyone in the world who wants him back that badly? He wonders if Reyna is somewhere out there, trying to see across miles and miles of forest to find some sign that Jason is alive. He wonders how long it will take before she gives up hope. Jason sneaks a look at Annabeth and finds himself desperately wishing that this Percy guy is a stronger, better person than he is. If things were different, he would want to protect Annabeth from this, he would put his arm around her or whisper words of comfort. But she's not looking to find solace in Jason Grace. He thinks, she's a girl who would never fall for him, even in different circumstances. It makes him a little sad, because in different circumstances, he might –
"Percy must be something else," he says.
Annabeth emerges briefly from her contemplation. "What?"
He coughs, embarrassed. "To have someone like you keeping faith in him. He's a lucky guy."
She doesn't even bat an eyelash, but she laughs, and the sound triggers a small bubble of happiness inside him. "I'll remind him of that when I see him."
Sensing the end of the conversation, Jason gets up to leave her to her nightly vigil. He's never noticed before, but he can guess now that she comes and sits in this pavilion every night for hours. As he's walking away, he glances over his shoulder and her lone figure is silhouetted against the moonlight reflected in the water.
She startles when he sits down again on the bench next to her. "What now?"
"I dunno. I thought you could use some company."
He's afraid she's going to tell him no, didn't you hear anything I just said, get out, or some combination thereof but instead, she sighs. "You're sure you want to stay here with me? It's pretty boring. You probably have better things to do."
"Nah," he says, settling back. "Cabin gets kind of lonely at night anyway."
After a small pause, she tells him, "You're all right."
And it's nice. Even though they don't talk, Jason thinks, this is a turning point. One day – maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, or even the day after that – she might look at him and see him for real. Not the annoying Roman kid who showed up, and not the boy who's supposed to be standing there in his place. Just him, by himself. That might be something to look forward to.