It had been a few weeks now, and Percy was seriously starting to get sick of these therapy sessions. The novelty of it all had worn off pretty quickly, leaving him to suffer through each meeting with anguish. It wasn't that Annabeth was bad at her job, no, it was quite the opposite. As far as he could tell, if he'd been any other patient, she'd have been doing everything right, and damn well too. Unfortunately, Percy wasn't every any other patient. He hated everything that her training said was right.
The reason he hated everything she did was because he felt like he didn't need to be counseled. He wasn't depressed. He wasn't even feeling a little bit blue. In fact, he was quite happy. Knowing he was going to die in less than a year had given him a certain sense of finality in everything he did. He knew he didn't have to worry about the future because he didn't have one. Unlike most people he knew, Percy Jackson had the wonderful blessing of being able to live completely in the present. It was freeing, in a grim sort of way, to know exactly how much time he had left. It really helped give each day value when you could see the days you had left ticking away like clockwork.
To make matters worse in regard to the therapy, Percy could tell that Annabeth absolutely loathed every meeting even more than he did, which was saying a lot. Having terminal cancer meant that Percy dealt with tons of people putting up façades in an effort to comfort him, which in turn meant he had gotten excellent at seeing through said façades. Annabeth was fairly talented at hiding her opinion about him, but not talented enough to ward him off. As much as she tried to be professional and neutral in her counseling, Percy could tell that she thought he was an idiot, and that's where most of his irritation with the meetings came from. He just wished she would drop her professionalism and admit it.
Across the desk from him, she was giving some long spiel about the point of nurturing his connections before he passes. Right now, she was explaining some mumbo jumbo about how dying doesn't mean he doesn't need friends while he's still around. It was solid advice, sure, but it wasn't something he hadn't already thought about a great deal. He didn't hold her advice against her too much because he knew she genuinely wanted to help but wanting to help meant almost nothing to him. Everyone wanted to help. As far as he was concerned, the only help he needed was a cure for brain cancer, and he was pretty sure she had the wrong PhD for that.
"…you're dying soon, there's no getting around that, but it's important for you not to close yourself off." She was saying, but the more she talked, the more aggravated he grew. Finally, he'd had enough.
"Stop." He said, voice hard. He held up a placating hand, hoping his interruption wouldn't offend her too much.
She balked at his words. He could see the rage in her eyes at being interrupted, see the angry retort on her lips, see the venom coursing through her veins, but nothing came of it. Instead, she pressed her mouth into a thin smile, leaning back in her chair and gesturing for him to speak. He had to give her credit. She almost made it look like she didn't want to reach across the desk and punch him in the face.
"Look, I appreciate the effort you've put into helping me, I really do, but this." He slowly waved a hand around the room a few times for emphasis. "Isn't working. All this stuff we've been doing these past few weeks. The thought exercises, the meetings, the whole thing. It doesn't help me."
She pursed her lips, mulling over what he'd said for a moment.
"Maybe not yet." She affirmed after a moment. "A lot of patients feel that way at first. Just give it time and improvements will come. It's a process."
It took everything in him to avoid rolling his eyes at the meaningless platitude. "Give it time."? Really?
"I hate to break it to you." He said, a little gentler this time around. "But I'm a cancer patient with less than a year to live. Time is like the one thing I don't have much to give."
"Even so." She pressed. "Everything I've done to help you is the result of years of study to determine the best way to help-"
"Patients who need help." He finished.
She looked like she was about to say something, but at the very last minute she bit her lip, swallowing whatever barb she was about to throw out. He had to withhold a groan. He'd been pushing her for weeks now, hoping that she'd break. From day one, it had been obvious that Annabeth was opinionated and prideful, and more importantly, she disagreed with his decision with every fiber of her being. Every day she held her tongue he lost a little bit of his hope that she'd give in.
"Why do you do that?" he asked, his tone accusing.
"Do what?" she asked innocently, raising an eyebrow. She seemed honestly surprised by the question, which was fair. He doubted her patients usually asked about her much.
"Why do you pretend like you don't think I'm an idiot." He expanded, leaning onto his folded hands.
"I don't think you're an idi-" she protested weakly, but her eyes betrayed her. Her face hid it well, but her eyes flashed with surprise. She knew she'd been discovered.
"Yeah, you do." He said simply, leaving no doubt about it. "It's okay that you do. Everyone who knows I'm opting out of treatment thinks I'm an idiot. No one else wants to tell me off of course, because they're too busy feeling sorry for me… But I can tell you really want to blow up on me. I know for a fact you're seething every time you look at me because you think I'm throwing my life away. So, my question is, if you feel so strongly that I'm making the wrong decision, why won't you say so?"
"I. Because. I don't-" she spluttered. He rolled his eyes at her, growing more irritated by the second now.
"Admit it." He said, forcing his voice to remain as neutral as he could. "Stop hiding behind your professional conduct. I don't need therapy. What I need is for you to stop coddling me because I'm dying. If you disagree with me, say so for god's sake. For once I need someone in my life to treat me like a human being, not a god damn diagnosis."
By the end of it, he could hear the own pain in his voice. His throat felt raw, and the white-hot rage in his chest had quickly faded out, being replaced by a dull throb, a pain more familiar to him nowadays. The ache in his chest was a constant reminder that the worst thing cancer had taken from him wasn't his chance at life, it was his chance at true connection.
Annabeth was silent for a while as she pondered what he said. She seemed at a loss for a while, which he couldn't really blame her for. He'd kind of unloaded on her, taking out all his frustration with all the people in his life on her. He knew it was unfair, but hey, she was his therapist, so wasn't it her job to deal with his fucked-up emotions? That was her job, right?
"So let me get this straight. You don't want me to help you deal with the fact that you're dying." She stressed the word, drawing attention to it as if he wasn't already acutely aware of his limited time. "Instead, you just want me to tell you what I think about your decision to die?" she finally asked, a look of confusion on her face.
"Pretty much, yeah." He said, giving her a small nod. "I don't need you to help me, Annabeth. I need you to treat me like I don't need help. Ever since I was diagnosed, I've gone from Percy Jackson to Percy, the guy with cancer. People don't treat me like me anymore. They treat me like I'm fragile, like I'm going to fall apart at any moment. I don't want a million caretakers. I want a friend. One god damn friend who will talk to me and argue with me and laugh with me like I'm not going to die."
Their eyes locked for a moment there, storm grey on sea green like a violent maelstrom. There was an understanding there, buried deep in those analyzing pools of grey. It had taken a lot from him to force her to, but he saw now that she understood. He didn't need or want therapy. He wanted normalcy.
"Well then." Annabeth said tersely, jotting down a huge swathe of notes on her notepad as she talked. "I suggest you go home and get prepared, because the next time we meet expect my full oral report on what an idiot you are."
A massive grin split across his face at her words. She'd tried to hide it behind an air of nonchalance, but he could hear the excitement and humor in her voice. That sparked a childlike giddiness within himself he hadn't felt in a while, because she was looking at him not like a patient, not like a charity case, but like a person.
"Oh, you're so on." Percy said confidently, punishing himself out of his chair with cheer.
"You can't possibly think you're going to win, Percy." Annabeth deadpanned. Her tone was daring, more like a friend challenging another to an arm wrestle than a therapist scolding a patient.
"I guarantee I'll win." Percy said cheerfully, making his way towards the door. "No matter what happens, you'll let me win because I have cancer and you don't."
It was a joke on the surface, but it was more than that. It was a challenge for her. He needed to know if she was serious about this. He needed to know if she was going to fold because he was dying. Luckily, her answer gave him all the reassurance he needed.
"Percy, you're an idiot." She teased, giving him a small grin.
Percy gave her a full blown, light up the world smile, one he usually reserved for awesome underwater discoveries and his mom's cooking, before leaving the room. He had to stop outside the room for a moment, leaning on the door as he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. God, he was really looking forward to next week.
XxXxX
Percy opened the door to his apartment, whistling a jaunty tune as he pushed his way into the living room. With a satisfied sigh, he let himself fall onto the couch with a thump, sprawling his entire body across it selfishly. Through the walls, he could hear the sound of music blaring, and he smiled to himself. His roommate, Jason Grace, was home, and that meant today was shaping up to be a really good day.
Jason Grace had been Percy's best friend for years, and since a couple of years ago, his roommate too. The arrangement worked out well for them. Jason was always in New York, which was excellent for when Percy had to leave for weeks on what he liked to call 'Research based carnival cruises', and Percy was around to make sure Jason did something besides work. Honestly, the guy had a problem.
"Or at least he did." Percy muttered to himself, thinking about all the time Jason had spent outside of the apartment recently.
Jason had a new girlfriend, Piper McLean, and the dude was absolutely smitten with her. He spent so much time with her, Percy was almost starting to think that the two were attached at the hip. Almost. Luckily, Jason usually went out with Piper or hung out at her place rather than theirs. It wasn't that he didn't like Piper, in fact he actually thought she was pretty cool, if a bit eccentric, but he still preferred them both separate as opposed to together. He was obviously extremely happy for both them, but third wheeling got a little old after a while, especially if it was happening in your own apartment with your own roommate who also happened to be your best friend.
Suddenly, the pounding music from the next room stopped, drawing him out of is musing. After a few more seconds, Jason walked out, a laugh on his lips when he saw Percy lying on the couch like a dog desperately in need of a few belly rubs.
He was sweaty, Percy noticed, and shirtless too, no doubt the result of a presumably vigorous workout. Not for the first time, Percy had to admit that the dude was jacked, and pretty good looking to boot. Though he figured it made sense all things considered. He doubted Jason would've become the most renowned personal trainer in Manhattan if he didn't look like blonde superman. He knew his shit, sure, but people tended to trust advice about getting fit more if the dude giving it looked like he could deadlift a small car.
"You know." Percy mock scolded from his spot slumped on the couch. "You don't have to work out three times a day. I'm sure Piper would still love you even if you had just a tiny bit of fat."
Jason laughed as he strolled into the kitchen, wiping the sweat off his brow as he went.
"You know." Jason parroted, sending a grin Percy's way. "You don't have to not work out all day every day. I'm sure the sharks would still want to eat you even if you weren't as plump."
"Hey I resent that." Percy shot back, raising one arm in protest. "First of all, I'm not plump. I'm lean. You're just a few pushups away from not being able to fit in shirts, which skews your perception of the human body. Second of all, sharks totally get a bad rap. They don't want to eat anyone, big or not. In fact-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Jason replied, head deep inside a cabinet as he rifled around for god knows what. "The sharks are the good guys, people are the bad guys, I know."
Percy didn't even have to see his face to know he'd rolled his eyes. It was an almost guaranteed gesture from the blonde whenever the plight of Percy's dear shark friends was brought up.
"It's true." He muttered to himself, too quiet for Jason to hear.
In the kitchen, the sound of a blender flicked on, and Percy let out a massive groan, which was thankfully drowned out by the machine whirring around. As far as Percy was concerned, a blender in action was the worst sound in existence, because what usually followed was a smirking Jason with some sort of disgusting health shake that he wanted Percy to try. Sitting up with a sigh, Percy resigned himself to the fact that he and the toilet were about to have a very intimate relationship.
"Smoothie time." Jason chirped as he entered the living room.
As per usual, Jason's face bore an unbecoming smirk as he sat next to him on the couch, two cups in his hand. He gave the first to Percy, before looking at him expectantly. Percy took one daring glance at the drink, instantly noticing the baby poop green color, regurgitated phlegm smell, and the back-alley mud puddle texture. Yum.
"You're really going to make me drink this shit, Jason?" Percy whined, fiddling with the straw nervously.
"If I have to drink it, you do to." Jason scolded, reaching over to force the cup towards Percy's mouth.
"Neither of us have to drink it." Percy pleaded. He knew it was futile, but they'd developed a tradition of arguing before the first sip, and who was Percy to break tradition?
"Yeah we do." Jason argued. "It's healthy."
"Do I at least get to know what's in it?" Percy asked weakly.
Jason let out a nervous laugh.
"Trust me. You don't want to know what's in this."
"Great." Percy breathed out. "Alright. On three then." Jason nodded.
"Three. Two. One." They counted down in unison, and then the chugging began.
It was another tradition of theirs, to see who could gulp theirs down faster. The race was fun, and honestly the less time one of Jason's death shakes was in your mouth, the better. Plus, it really helped you ignore the revolting taste when your brain was focused on chugging.
After a few seconds of agony, Percy emerged the victor, slamming the vile glass down on the coffee table with pride. He had about two seconds to revel in his victory before the rush of his championship faded, quickly replaced by the terrible agony of all his taste buds suffering a simultaneous death at the hands of Jason's health sludge.
"That is foul, evil stuff." Percy said through a dry heave.
He shot a hateful glare at the glass that contained the poisonous beverage, wishing he could shatter the damn thing with his mind. Jason's face was stuck in a permanent grimace, eyes watering as he swallowed the last of his drink.
"That might've been the worst one yet." Jason admitted with a dry laugh.
"Might've been?" Percy said incredulously. "I feel like I just drained a whole glass of liquid suffering."
"It's worth it." Jason said, though it lacked his usual conviction. He was always the least enthusiastic about health right after the chug.
"Please." Percy scoffed. "Drinking that wouldn't be worth it even if it cured my cancer."
Jason didn't say anything for a moment, and Percy wondered if he'd gone too far with the gallows humor. He was afraid to look at Jason for a while, but finally his curiosity outweighed his fear that he'd upset his friend. To his surprise, the blonde was shaking, with one fist pressed to his mouth as he silently bounced in his seat. With a start, Percy realized he was laughing. That's when the dam broke and he started laughing too. Together, the two of them fell into the couch with side splitting laughter at the idea of choosing cancer over a smoothie.
"It really was that terrible, wasn't it?" Jason asked when their giggling had subsided. His face was cherry red, and wet tears of laughter were still trailing down his cheeks, nearly sending Percy into a fit of chuckles again.
"Cancer terrible." Percy agreed.
As it so often did, the word cancer sobered them both up quickly. For a moment, they sat in an awkward, but surprisingly comfortable silence. Just before Percy was going to make up some excuse to escape the lecture that was sure to come, Jason interrupted him. Damn, just a second too late.
"You know." Jason said, voice teasing. "I always knew your brain was going to kill you, Percy. I just thought it would be because you did something stupid. But hey, the cancer's not going to kill you for months. I still have money riding on you doing something stupid."
Percy balked at his words, unable to suppress his surprise.
"Did you just… Make a cancer joke?" he choked out.
"It was more a, 'you're an idiot joke', but yeah, I did. You make them all the time, so I figured you enjoyed them, even if I don't. Was it too much?" he said sheepishly. He looked like he was afraid Percy was going to cry, or maybe even punch him, but honestly Percy was more likely to hug him right about now.
"No, it wasn't too much." Percy reassured, leaning back into the couch with a satisfied smile. "I didn't like jokes about my tumor at first, but now I love them. I guess they both kind of grew on me."
And with that, they both devolved into another fit of laughter. It took them even longer this time to recover than last time, and when they did Percy was fairly certain he'd ruptured his spleen. Even if he had, it was totally worth it. Spleens were pointless and you can't put a price on a good laugh, right?
"Oh, by the way." Jason said after a moment, rising from his spot on the couch. "Piper wanted me to ask you if you'd go on a double date with us some time next week. She's got a friend who's apparently 'in desperate need of attention from the male species.' Her words, not mine."
"Nah, I'll pass." Percy said, brushing off the invitation. It was one he'd gotten repeatedly over the past few weeks, and one he'd constantly declined.
"C'mon Percy. What's holding you back? Is it Rachel, Calypso, or the cancer?"
"Did you really just compare cancer to my ex-girlfriends?" Percy scoffed. "And it's the none of the above. I just don't want to go."
"Please. Piper's insistent. If I can't get you to go, I'm in big trouble." He begged seeming genuinely worried.
"I don't know. She's your girlfriend, and I'm not you, so I don't know why I should do it." Percy taunted.
Yeah, he was definitely dangling his power over Jason's head, but hey, he was allowed to have fun, right? Besides, he was definitely going to go. He wasn't the type of guy to leave Jason hanging because he was feeling lazy if it meant this much to him. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't going to get anything out of it either.
"Look, Piper's just trying to play matchmaker. I don't know this particular friend of hers, but she's convinced you two are a 'match made in heaven.'"
Percy snorted at the wording. Rather fitting for a dying man, wasn't it?
"You don't have to like her or whatever. Just go and play nice long enough to satisfy her so that she thinks I tried to help, okay"
"Deal." Percy said, extending a hand.
Jason reached for it, looking almost pleased with himself that it hadn't required any bargaining. For a moment, Percy let him harbor that illusion, before shattering his glee like a pane of glass.
"On one condition."
Jason's face fell, but he gave a nod of resignation. He really had no bargaining power in this whole situation, so he knew he was being forced to agree to whatever terms Percy set.
"Name your price." Jason grumbled, painfully aware of the devilish grin spreading over Percy's face.
"No more of those smoothies for at least two weeks."
Jason smiled. He'd never say it out loud, but he was glad to have a break from those god forsaken things.
"You my friend." Jason said, extending a hand towards Percy's. "Have yourself a deal.
AN: There you have it, chapter number two. I really like how this one turned out, especially the bromance-y scene with Jason. Their dynamic came out pretty cool, and I like how naturally these interpretations of their characters seem to mesh. Now, about the underlying theme of this chapter. Essentially, Percy's main issue isn't with his cancer, it's with how he looks at life. He's extremely cynical, almost misanthropic, in his views, despite his cheerful persona. The way he sees it, everyone treats him like glass, which is only to help them feel better, not himself. They care about his diagnosis, not about his wellbeing as a person. He doesn't want to be cancer, he wants to be Percy, and he feels like no one will give him that. Now, as his interaction with Jason showed, this view isn't entirely true. Jason seemed pretty comfortable with Percy and treating him like he's just another guy. Still, even then, with his best friend, cancer was still a part of their interaction, albeit in a humorous light. That's what Percy hates the most. He just wants to be a guy. He's over his cancer (or at least he thinks he is. He brings it up often, doesn't he?) and he wants everyone else to get over it too. Luckily, he was finally able to convey that to Annabeth, and she can finally begin to actually help him. It took a while but come next chapter she'll begin to work with the idea that he needs a friend more than he needs a therapist. This entire story is basically examining what matters. Is it the end? Is it the story leading up to the end? Is it the major bullet points, or the tiny details and monotonous moments of every day that make up our lives? I find those questions extremely interesting and wanted to use an interesting story to explore them. I really hope you guys like how I'm doing with that so far. If you are (or aren't) please let me know! I love reading reviews and using them to shape my next chapter, but until that next chapter,
Peace