Archive of Our Own ^beta

Percy trudges into the Argo II’s training room, bruised and sore, still replaying the duel with Chrysaor in his mind. He’d been hopelessly outmatched, barely making it out alive, and the thought gnaws at him. He feels like he failed—let his friends down, let himself down. He clenches his fists, frustration simmering under the surface.

But as he steps into the room, he’s surprised to see Jason already there, sitting on a bench and looking equally beaten up. Jason glances up, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Percy asks, his voice heavier than usual.

Jason shrugs. “Same as you, I guess. Feeling pretty useless.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “I got knocked out by a brick, Percy. A brick. While you were actually fighting Chrysaor. Real helpful, huh?”

Percy blinks, surprised. He hadn’t realized Jason felt the same way. There was something oddly comforting in it—knowing he wasn’t the only one struggling with feeling powerless. For a moment, the two of them just stand there, the unspoken weight of their failures hanging between them.

Then Percy grabs Riptide, the familiar weight grounding him. “Wanna spar?” he asks, meeting Jason’s gaze. “Maybe knock some sense back into each other?”

Jason’s eyes light up with a spark of determination, and he stands, reaching for his own sword. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

They step into the center of the training room, swords at the ready, each taking a breath to steady themselves. As their blades clash, their frustrations start to melt away, replaced by the focus and rhythm of the fight. Every strike, every parry, is a release—of anger, of fear, of doubt. In the silence of the training room, they don’t have to be heroes or leaders or symbols. They’re just two kids with heavy burdens, learning to lean on each other in ways words could never express.

As they continue to spar, something shifts. They push each other, harder and harder, their moves a bit sharper, a bit faster. The doubt they felt—the uselessness—starts to fade, replaced by something they both forgot they had: resilience.

Percy and Jason sit on the floor of the training room, breathing heavily, their shirts drenched in sweat. The spar had left them at a stalemate, but Jason had been the one to call it off, and Percy is just glad he hadn’t had to admit he needed a break first. They both take a moment to catch their breath, wiping their foreheads, sharing a quiet, unspoken respect for each other.

After a few seconds, Jason breaks the silence. “So… who taught you sword fighting? I always wondered. When I was at Camp Half-Blood, it was mostly just kids training kids.”

Percy smirks, leaning back against the wall. “It was actually not a kid but some guy who kinda looked like you, actually—tall, blond, crazy good with a sword. His name was Luke. He was older than most of us and took me under his wing when I was new.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “What happened to him?”

Percy’s smirk fades, replaced by a look of melancholy. “It’s… complicated. He was possessed by Kronos and tried to kill me, but then… he came back at the end. Died a hero.” Percy’s gaze drops to the floor. “He saved us all.”

They fall into a quiet pause, Percy lost in thought before he looks back at Jason. “So, what about you? Who taught you?”

Jason shrugs, a faintly bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Different members of the legion. I’ve been there since I was three, so I had a lot of teachers. They’d just come and go.”

Percy raises an eyebrow, smirking. “What were you doing at three, anyway—sword fighting?” he says, sarcastically.

“Yep,” Jason replies, deadpan.

Percy’s amusement fades as he studies Jason more seriously. “That’s messed up, what they did to you.”

Jason frowns, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

“They were forging a weapon out of you,” Percy says quietly, his gaze steady.

Jason absorbs that, silent for a moment, and finally nods, resigned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighs. “But… at least I made some friends along the way. That’s something, right?”

Percy’s expression softens as he considers Jason’s words. “Friends?” he asks gently. “Then… why did no one come to talk to you when you got back to Camp Jupiter?”

Jason’s jaw clenches, a flicker of anger in his eyes. Percy can tell he’s hit a nerve. Jason lets out a frustrated breath, the anger fading into something more vulnerable. “I hated it,” he admits, almost to himself.

He laughs, but it’s hollow and bitter. “Son of Jupiter, supposedly ‘destined for greatness’—and I come back, and no one cares. It was pathetic.” Jason glances at Percy, an honesty in his expression that Percy hasn’t seen before. “When I returned—before Leo blew the place up—I waited for someone, anyone, to welcome me back. Reyna, Dakota… anyone. I just sat there, alone, in my so-called ‘home,’ like a stranger.”

Percy doesn’t respond right away, letting Jason’s words settle.

“That’s messed up,” Percy finally says, his voice low. “You deserved better than that.”

Jason nods, the anger in his gaze softening as he meets Percy’s eyes. “I guess… we both did. I heard some of your stories. Sucks to be us.”

They sit there, side by side, two kids from different worlds with the same scars and the same burdens. In that moment, their rivalry fades, replaced by a quiet understanding. Both had been raised as weapons, shaped by expectations they never asked for. But maybe, just maybe, sitting there together, they could start to build something different—a friendship, a real one, outside of heroics and destiny.

Jason glances at Percy, curious. “How was Thalia at Camp Half-Blood?”

Percy chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, everyone loved her, man. She showed up, and she was already a legend. They basically threw me under the bus the second she came back.” He pauses, grinning. “Though, honestly, I feel like they’d throw me under the bus for just about anyone new who shows up.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “So she was popular, yeah?”

“Yep.” Percy grins wider. “You could say that.”

Jason smirks. “At least you got your spot back when she joined the Hunters.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Percy pauses. “When was the last time you talked to her, anyway?”

Jason sighs. “It’s been a while.”

“She never sends an Iris message?”

“Nope. She’s busy with Hunter things, I guess. And… I don’t want to bother her.”

Percy gives him a reassuring look. “You wouldn’t be bothering her.”

Jason shrugs. “Look, I love her—she’s my sister. But I love her because she’s my sister, not… you know.”

Percy nods, understanding. “Yeah, I get it, man.”

Jason’s smile fades a little as he glances down. “How’s your family, Perce?” he asks quietly.

Percy’s face softens. “They’re good. My mom and stepdad—they’re amazing. Honestly, you should meet my mom sometime. She’ll love you.”

Jason’s surprised at that, his voice carrying a hint of disbelief. “Why would she love me?”

Percy scoffs. “Look at you, bro. You’ve got a heart of gold. She’d see that in a second.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “‘Bro’?”

Percy laughs, nudging him with his elbow. “Yeah, ‘bro.’ What, you don’t like it?”

Jason rolls his eyes but lets a small smile break through. “Guess I could get used to it, bro.”

They sit there for a moment in comfortable silence, both feeling the warmth of something unfamiliar but welcome—a real connection. For the first time, Jason feels like he’s not just part of a team, but part of a family.