If Only
Rachel often fantasizes that Blackjack had never landed on top of that Prius when her and Percy kissed.
Rachel would've said anything, done anything for Percy. Hades, she even flew a helicopter without any knowledge of how to use it to help him! If only she had said something sooner, and she'd had so many chances, too. She could have kissed him the second that they met. That would have been extremely romantic. Then he would've gone on a quest to find her and confess his love, and they would live happily ever after. She wishes…
If only.
She had loved him since they first met. With his green eyes and black hair, he was more gorgeous than any of those millionaire boys and models who Daddy was always introducing her too.
Of course Percy didn't care that he had broken her heart. Maybe he was just oblivious. Though, any boy, no matter how stupid he may be, can figure out that there is some sort of crushing going on when a girl kisses him.
Then again, when it came to Percy, even that might not be true. Rachel had heard that Annabeth kissed Percy on one of their countless quests and Percy still hadn't figured out if she liked him.
The boy just made Rachel want to do a face palm.
But still...
If only he would say her name the way he said Annabeth's. It's obvious he loves her—so much more than he ever could love Rachel. He had hung out with Rachel, laughed with her, talked, and did a bunch of fun things. Fun, friendly things. He didn't kiss her, sneak-out with her, cuddle, go to romantic dinners, introduce her as his lover or girlfriend, or anything but "Rachel". Rachel wanted that, but it didn't work out that way.
Maybe it was Rachel's fault. She was never very good at flirting. She had planned out that kiss with Percy weeks in advance, but in her mind it hadn't gone the same way. There was less Blackjack, more... tongue. She had bad timing, that was easy to see. It was plain stupid of her to go and kiss Percy five minutes before a war. She was too late; he already loved Annabeth. Rachel had done it wrong.
She had been barely even in the game to begin with. If the roles had been replaced maybe things would be different. Percy and Annabeth had been going on quests for years before she came along. That boy had travelled across the country to save Annabeth. Rachel wondered if Percy would do that for her. Maybe, she thought, but not for the same reason. No, he would save her like he would save Grover: because she was his friend. She was on the same level as the goat—I mean, satyr. Not the most romantic thing in the world.
But Rachel had tried her best. She knew she was horrible at flirting, but she tried! She made up a strategy! She made it seem spontaneous, though that didn't end up working. Rachel didn't give up without a fight, even if it wasn't a very big one.
Rachel was so sure that what she felt was love. She would do anything to protect Percy. Anything.
Then one day, about a year after Rachel became Oracle, and had even made friends with Annabeth, she saw Annabeth being attacked by a monster. They were just walking in New York City and suddenly something shoved them both into an alley. Rachel got pushed to the side, but Annabeth was front and center. Rachel watched as Annabeth searched frantically for her dagger, which, it seemed to Rachel, for the first time she was missing. Of course, Rachel couldn't fight since she didn't have a sword on her, she never carried one around, normally a hairbrush would do.
But as the monster made a dive for Annabeth's throat Rachel knew that no hairbrush could protect her. So Rachel did the one thing she could think of, the crazy thing.
She threw herself in between Annabeth and the monster.
Then she ran like Hades out of there, dragging a bleeding Annabeth with her. Annabeth wasn't the only one gushing blood, Rachel wasn't looking too fine herself and she was rather sure she sprained something, not to mention there was a gash across stomach and her leg was cut up and she was going to look like she'd been through a paper-shredder by the time bikini-season rolled around.
But that didn't matter, Annabeth was starting to lose consciousness. So Rachel made a quick call for the Gray Sisters and they sped to Camp Half-Blood.
Annabeth was unconscious by the time they got there, and Rachel wasn't feeling too swell either. So it was no surprise that Rachel and Annabeth practically fell into Camp Half-Blood, and as the campers and Chiron circled around Rachel passed-out.
Later, after Rachel awoke, with bandages covering her wounds she began to wonder why she did what she did.
It wasn't for glory. Her mind wasn't really working when she did it. It was something along the lines of: Annabeth. Monster. Rawr! Jump. Ah! Sharp teeth! Stab. Stab. Ow. Dust. Grab Annabeth. Run.
It sure wasn't for the thanks. Rachel never cared about what other people thought of the things she did.
It wasn't to protect Percy. Even though Rachel knew he would've fallen apart if Annabeth had died. He was already a mess after the attack when Annabeth was so badly hurt. As it was, he had lunged himself at Rachel and had started sobbing into her shoulder. Sobbing over Annabeth.
And as nice as that was, she didn't feel that tingly, firework sensation that she should have felt when someone she loved touched her.
She didn't think about what would've happened if that had been her. Or whether or not Percy would blame himself for not being there to help.
Because she knew that Percy would.
Not because he was in love with her, though she knew he did love her in different way. It wasn't crazy. They weren't going to get married and have babies. It was more of a "your my friend and if you ever die I will reincarnate you and kill you again because you died and left me".
They would always be there to save each other.
That was their relationship and Rachel knew it.
And she accepted it.
And loved her life because of it.