Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, nor any places, things, characters, or ideas therein. Those belong to Rick Riordan, Hyperion Publishing, and Fox Century.
Summary: I wanted to hate him. I wanted to wring his neck. I really wanted to kill him. But was it possible there was something else, not so violent, that I wanted to do, too? Movie!'verse Percabeth.
Warnings: Insincere thoughts of murder, fluffiness
Spoilers: The Lightning Thief (book and movie)
Dedication: To jewel of athos, who sparked this idea in my mind and therefore helped me finally find my way out of my serious bout of writer's block. Thanks, my twin sis!!
Author's Note: I love the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. The books were amazing, and after I separated them and the movie, I was able to enjoy both entities for what they were. I tried to incorporate elements of both into this fic, though. This being my first fic for this fandom, I really hope you enjoyed it, and thank you all so much for giving my story a chance! ~fyd
I wanted to hate him. I wanted to wring his neck. I really wanted to kill him.
From the moment Percy Jackson strolled (or maybe the more appropriate word was exploded) into my life, I had felt all my mother-given logic, wisdom, and coolness vanish from my grasp in a bright burst of Greek fire. With his boyish good looks (Hera curse him for those), slightly naïve "I'm lost, could you help me?" expression, and his uncanny ability to pick up on fight moves, my territory, I felt a deep, burning, writhing fury flare up inside me every time he got within even five yards of me.
…But, despite all that, was it possible there was something else, not so violent, that I wanted to do, too?
The water shifted and rippled, distorting the image of the boy sitting at the bottom of the pool. Percy had drawn his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, looking oddly vulnerable and lost to my eyes. I unintentionally felt myself soften a bit as I watched him. Was it possible that I had judged this boy far too harshly, and far too prematurely?
He seemed to notice me then, standing barefoot by the pool with a towel hugged in my arms. Blinking slowly at me, he unfurled and floated to the surface, murmuring a greeting as he came closer.
I sat down on the edge of the pool and gingerly dipped my feet in, surprised at how warm the water was as it lapped against my lower legs. For a moment we stared awkwardly at each other, the silence stretching between us.
Percy's eyes, the color of the ocean on a cloudless day, dropped then, almost shyly. I felt my cheeks unintentionally warm, and immediately scolded myself for being foolish. It's Seaweed Brain, remember? I told myself firmly. Don't be stupid. You're acting like a schoolgirl, of all things. You're a daughter of Athena, the wisest woman who ever did or will live. Start acting like it!
Suddenly his expression changed, turning into surprise and chagrin. "What happened to your arm?" he asked.
I looked down in surprise, having completely forgotten the bruise I'd received from the statue Medusa had created to entrap me. In truth, I'd been trying to forget that whole experience… "Oh," I said. "It's nothing. Just something I picked up at Medusa's place." I made a vague motion with my hand, hoping he'd get the picture.
For another long moment Percy stared at me, something going on behind his eyes that I couldn't read. Then he suddenly reached out, very softly touching the tips of his fingers against mine. He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as he seemed to concentrate very hard on something.
The water around him was suddenly creeping up his arm, across his hand -- onto my skin! My first instinct was to jerk back, but I held still, waiting to see what would happen. I had seen him do this to himself, back at Camp Half-Blood. Had seen the water wash slowly across his skin, healing as it went. I hadn't realized he could do the same to others, had thought that that particular gift was limited to the children of Poseidon.
At the time, I had wondered what it felt like. I had somewhat imagined it as the feeling of spiders -- at this I briefly shuddered, for I was deathly terrified of the little creatures -- crawling and skittering across the skin. But I had been wrong, so wrong. The touch of the water was more of a caress, a warm, brushing sensation that even tingled a little. And, most remarkable of all, the ugly bruise on my arm slowly faded, faded…
I blinked in surprise as the water retreated down my arm, past Percy's hand, then back to join that in the pool. My arm was still tingling, and I quickly told myself that it was the aftereffects of what the healing water had done to me. I didn't want to allow myself to believe otherwise. I couldn't allow myself to believe otherwise.
"Thank you," I whispered.
It didn't even bother me when Percy sloshed water over me as he got out of the pool, though an electric sort of shock stung my fingers (but not unpleasantly) when he took the towel from me. I once more felt that irrational blush stain my cheeks.
Percy Jackson was a Seaweed Brain. That was undeniable. But there was something that he evoked inside me, sensations that were strange and new and frightening but at the same time exhilarating, that made me wonder if we could be friends, maybe, eventually. Despite -- things, namely our parents' eternal hatred of each other.
Or, maybe, someday, something more.
…Nah. He'll always be a Seaweed Brain. At least to me.
And, as we headed back up to our rented room at Grover's anxious call, I was almost certain I heard him mutter, "Wise Girl," just loud enough for me to hear.
Yes, despite the impossibility of it all, I was pretty sure I could become friends with Percy Jackson.
My apologies if some of the dialogue isn't entirely correct. I have only seen the movie once, but I really liked this scene and wanted to do a little something with it. I hope you enjoyed my story, and thank you so much for checking it out!