Gone Wrong, But so Right

"Hey!" Percy heard Faith call at the top of her voice crisply as he stormed off out of the cabin unceremoniously. He had other things to attend to; he needed answers from Annabeth, and he was going to be more than willing to summon a Fyrmarc to cure her even if it took hours.

So, he kept walking. He hadn't realised a rather collected group of people had gone after him, trying to talk all at once.

"That's it?" said Thalia, her words taut and choked as if it took her a great deal to speak up. "You're not going to do anything? What if it destroys the Athena cabin or—or maybe puts some sort of curse—"

"Nothing's gonna happen, Thals." Percy tried to sound reassuring, really; but from the narrowed looks they were giving him, they probably thought he was hot-tempered.

"He has something to do; leave him be," Faith told them, trying to step in and block the others' way from getting to him. Percy saw the slightest glimpse of a moonlit furry tail; it was Aegeus, residing with the healer and barking the rest of them away.

"Shouldn't getting rid of that symbol on our cabin be your number one priority?" complained a daughter of Athena that he didn't recognise. There was a bitter sort of way the blonde girl had spoken with narrowed eyes that swished towards Faith. "Who are you, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be a hunter? A man-hater? Why are you defending him?"

That made Percy turn. He wasn't surprised when Thalia did so too, something like living wrath glimmering in her eyes.

"Don't talk to her like that," he said in an undertone when Faith didn't snap back with one of her usual snarky responses which he, admittedly, have grown to be fond of. "Wanna come with me, Faith? Thalia? I'm going to visit Annabeth."

That just sparked up more unwanted curiosity from those who heard what he'd said.

Faith looked doubtful for a moment, and Percy knew she was thinking of hurling back a clever remark at the unfazed daughter of Athena. Everybody seemed to release a breath all at once as Faith spun around, tugging Thalia by the arm to come with.

Thalia yanked back. "You two go visit Annabeth in the Infirmary." When Percy gave her a look, she just shrugged it off as if it were no big deal. "I still have to check on your wild pet in the Artemis cabin. Who knows what trouble the wyvern's causing right now?"

This seemed to be good enough of an excuse for the both of them. Percy hesitantly made sure to slow his pace down when he realised Faith was struggling to catch up. They passed numerous campers, who were gaping at him incredulously. Some even dared throw Faith some nasty looks.

Percy wanted to get rid of the uncomfortable tension between him and the silent healer. "So . . . you knew, right? About Chaos?"

Faith's lip curled. "Yeah. I get a lot of visions from him, you know?" Knew it. "Sometimes, he'd tell me full-on messages and all. I kind of put everything together and figured it out."

There was a sort of forced way she spoke, like every word she'd said was carefully measured and calculated. Even the way Faith acted was different by then; she made sure to put wide distance between him and herself, like she was afraid of him.

Percy didn't sit too well with that thought.

"What is it?" he dared ask. "You aren't yourself."

A wave of determination passed over Faith's face. "You need to focus if you want to summon that Fyrmarc to cure Chase's memory."

Percy's eyes widened by a fraction, pursing his lips. "I know. Chaos told me . . . he told me some things. He said Annabeth knew all the answers to my questions, and I don't doubt that. But I don't think . . ."

"You don't think you can cast the Fyrmarc yourself?"

"It's not my fault my self-esteem is lower than your height!"

Faith managed an undignified snort at this. "You're so observant," she said jokingly, but he could only think of how he easily got rid of the awkward tension between them. "Would you like me to pat you on your back for your great efforts of observation?"

Percy snickered, looking awfully amused. "Don't worry, I assure you that your height makes you look adorable." He frowned at himself, realising how odd that might've sounded to someone else. Sheepishly, he added, "Adorable, as in, a I might be tiny but I won't hesitate to kill you type of way."

The healer appeared to be fighting back a smile as they neared the Infirmary carefully. But before Percy could even step unto the thick-dusted porch with Faith in tow, a daughter of Apollo clad in white (and a lot more white; oh, and did I mention 'white?') rushed out with a tired smile.

Percy started. "Um, we're looking for—"

"Annabeth Chase, yeah?" said the healer, pulling the door wider so they could get in. Much to their surprise, the Infirmary was almost empty if it were not for one occupied bed on the far corner. Percy saw a glimpse of honey-blonde hair, knowing immediately who it was.

Faith stepped in as well, pulling a face once she got a whiff of the disinfectant in the air. Percy couldn't help but silently agree with her that the antiseptic scent of hospitals or any other healing places made his head spin.

The daughter of Apollo looked unbothered, yanking the clear-white curtains around the occupied bed. There lay Annabeth, looking peaceful in her sleep. Percy could only think of what horrors might come back at him when she woke—he expected her to go full-on girlfriend mode on him.

"We got rid of her minor injuries," said the healer stiffly, glancing at Percy with a raise of her eyebrow. "Last time she woke, she was asking for you. She kept mentioning an explosion in the sky."

Percy knew what Annabeth was talking about. It was the massive explosion during the war with Gaea that had painted the sky golden; it was the mark of several innocent lives that was taken the very same day.

"I hope you don't mind," began Percy as the healer snatched a handkerchief from her robe pocket and wiped the sweat off her brow. "But I was wondering if we could have a private—"

Annabeth fumbled in her sleep, mumbling something low and incoherent. They froze, and no more than two seconds passed by when her eyes fluttered open dazedly. Percy couldn't stop himself from taking a step back when pure horror to what was to come pooled in his stomach.

Faith flinched when Annabeth gasped and sat up straight, looking crazed. "Percy!" the daughter of Athena had never looked more overjoyed; she was practically beaming. "Thank the Fates you're here—they kept saying you were off to somewhere else, and—"

"Chase, slow down," said Faith worriedly as Percy's face shifted from shock to dread. The healer seemed to muster enough courage to approach the daughter of Athena, but she only swatted her away irritably.

Annabeth's intense gaze darted from him to Faith. "Why . . . who are you?" she scrunitised her with a judging sheer. "Aren't you a hunter of Artemis? What are you doing here?"

Percy blinked, meaning to put a hand on the hunter's shoulder but it landed on her elbow instead. "Annabeth, we—I know this is a lot to take in, but you have to stay still—"

"Faith," the hunter said hurriedly, catching the look of aggravation that was beginning to distort on Annabeth's face. They wanted her to be as calm as possible. "My name's Faith."

"Questions later, please!" interrupted the healer before anyone else could speak up. As she was proceeding to glare at them, she was also handing Annabeth a cube of ambrosia. "I must care for my patient. It'd be best if you two stay while I call for other healers to treat your injuries."

Percy was indignant right away, ignoring Annabeth's blatant attempts to catch his attention. "Please, all we need is ten—fifteen minutes alone. I promise we won't do anything else other than talk."

The healer dropped open her mouth to protest, but closed it suddenly when she saw the plea in Percy's voice. The daughter of Apollo sighed with a quick roll of her eyes before slamming her handkerchief on a nearby table.

"Okay. Fifteen minutes." The healer glanced at them both. "But promise me you two would get treated properly afterwards."

Percy frowned at himself, staring at his arms. He fairly scowled at the gore and dried blood smeared on both his skin and tattered clothes. On the other hand, Faith looked less worse and disgusting; the only obvious sign of injury on her was the thin red line running down her throat.

Judging by the look on the hunter's face, she was thinking the same thing as he was.

"Okay," Percy said, nodding grimly. "We'll do it."

The daughter of Apollo looked triumphant. She rolled up her sleeve, adjusting the watch strapped on her wrist before throwing them one sweet smile. "Only fifteen minutes. Make it quick." With no more words said, the healer shut the door behind her with a mere click.

Annabeth broke the silence. "What's the hunter doing here, Percy?"

"I have a name, Chase," Faith couldn't stop herself from retorting before she sent the son of Poseidon an exasperated look. "Can we please get it over with and just cast the Fyrmarc?"

If ever, the mention of Fyrmarcs just brought up more ire in Annabeth's clouding eyes. "What're you talking about?" she accusingly threw a look at Percy. "What's she talking about?"

Percy swallowed the knot in his throat, his blood thrumming in his ears. Chaos had said . . . he had said that if Percy really meant it, then it'd be there. Was it really that simple, to summon a Fyrmarc? What if Percy could never do it?

He felt it, then—the magic living and flowing through his veins to his very fingertips. Percy bit his inner lip hard, gritting his teeth as all seemed to cloud his senses—

"Seaweed Brain, you're not exactly being cooperative here," clarified Annabeth, unaware of how Percy lost all his concentration as he noticeably blanched.

He could feel Faith back away, as if she felt she were intruding in on a private moment. Percy couldn't look at the daughter of Athena straight in the eyes as he mumbled, "Don't call me that."

Annabeth looked hurt. "What? Why are you—what's going on?" she targeted Faith then, who was slowly looking more and more disturbed by the second. "What did you do to him?"

They both knew that snapping back would only make the situation worse. Instead, Faith faced Percy stiffly. "We could—" the hunter looked away, embarrassed. "You could do it another time, if you can't do it now."

"No," said Percy firmly, hoping the other would understand as he lowered his voice into a small croaky whisper. "I—I won't be able to stand her for more than a minute, Faith, if she keeps thinking that I'm her . . ." he shook his head. "I can't. I need to do it now."

He wasn't sure if the hunter had heard him. Faith's gaze rose to his, giving him a bold view of her intense stare. Percy found himself feeling slightly nauseous from the butterflies settling in his stomach—he forgot how the hunter always had that effect on him.

Not that he minded, of course.

"PERSEUS JACKSON!" shrieked Annabeth, bringing the raven back to reality as he frustratedly rolled his head back. The daughter of Athena did not look amused. "Will someone please tell me what's going on? What happened, after the big explosion? Is . . . is she gone? Is Gaea gone for good?"

"Annabeth, please. Quiet down and you'll be fine in the next few minutes." Percy tried to sound as gentle as possible, but even the irritancy in his eyes spoke louder volumes.

Annabeth seemed to consider this for a moment, her eyes lit with suspicion as they narrowed to slits. He could see her groping in one of her jean pockets, unaware that her dagger had been taken away by the healers.

Faith nudged him. "It's now or never." She stood still for a moment, her face taking in on that committed focus that he'd seen several times before. "Is something stopping you?"

No, he wanted to voice out so badly, trying to convince himself that there was absolutely nothing stopping him, and he was more than willing to cure Annabeth's memory again.

But right now—the daughter of Athena was staring at him, as her boyfriend. Lover. Significant other. Deep down, no matter how much he hated it, Percy actually missed the warm feelings of affection rippling under his very bones. He missed being held; being looked at with such tenderness.

Faith was still there, pinning Annabeth down with her signature glare. It didn't stop the blonde from leering at them distastefully before accusing, "Something's wrong. You're not the Percy I know—is this some sort of plot to get to me?"

Percy shuddered, starting a meaningless mantra in his head—he wanted the real Annabeth back; the Annabeth that he had become no more than friends with in the train, the Annabeth that shared small laughs with him and Faith—

He exhaled a shuddering breath, his cheeks hollowing. Instead of the golden colour he'd been expecting, a tendril of lucent violet flickered from his fingertips and onto the pasty wall. There was no need to wait; the glowing Fyrmarc was there almost instantly without so much as a blink of an eye.

Other than that, their reactions were also instantaneous.

Of course, Annabeth was the first to process what had just happened as lilac strings of light got in contact with her skin.

"How is this—how can—" the blonde struggled to find the right words, her voice going an octave higher than normal. "What are you—"

"Stay still, stay still!" ordered Faith, looking as if the anxiety from Annabeth had gone to her too. Nonetheless, she whipped her head to a dazed Percy imploringly. "Is that the right Fyrmarc? Is it wo—Jackson!"

"It's all right, no need to panic!" Percy blindly waved his hands, shutting out the daughter of Athena's protests. The vivid splotch of dark purple from the Fyrmarc caught his eye. "I just . . . didn't expect it to be . . . well, violet."

Annabeth just got even more aggravated for being ignored so bluntly. Faith stumbled aback, and Percy could understand why her eyes filled with such awe and curiosity at once instead of irritation for being pushed away so harshly. The Fyrmarc burst out streams of lavender, its vein-like strands finding itself buried in Annabeth's temples.

"Is it me," breathed Faith, her eyes widening further, "or does the purple gives me the wrong impression that screams evil?"

Percy unconsciously reached for Riptide—it was an instinct. "It's definitely not just you. But it's working, I can feel—"

Faith was the first to react as she threw herself to the side, the sound of clattering metal echoing in their ears. Percy gaped as Annabeth stood from the bed with what seemed like fire as dark as night in her eyes, and—

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" shouted Faith, watching with horror as the daughter of Athena bent down to one of her boots before pulling out something that gleamed silver in their eyes. The Fyrmarc was still there, on the wall, but why—

Percy cursed loudly as he backed away from a wild-eyed Annabeth, the purple coils around her head acting as a wreath. "Don't hurt her!" he yelled when he caught a glimpse of Faith reaching out for the daggers by her side.

"Says the one who's about to be cut into ribbons!" Faith made an undignified noise as she knocked over a steel cart, its silvered contents and packets of ambrosia scattering on the floor.

The healers are gonna murder us in our sleep, that was what he last thought when he dreadfully saw Annabeth pull out a dagger. Percy took in a shuddering breath because of course the daughter of Athena would have another dagger in her boot.

Faith saw it first, squeaking loudly—though he knew she'd never admit it. "She has another weapon? Why in Elysium didn't the healers take away that?"

As Annabeth inched closer, her grey eyes stuck on him, Percy realised that she was in a blind panic mode. He needed to approach carefully, that's all—surely, he could calm her down—

"NO!" He heard from faraway when Annabeth threw her sterling blade at him, thinking he was an enemy she needed to get rid of. Percy doubled back, now aware that there were other unrecognizable voices outside the Infirmary.

Percy saw Faith aim for her own dagger again, but he raised a careful hand. He inhaled a shaky breath, trying for his one last attempt to calm the daughter of Athena down and let the Fyrmarc do its sole purpose.

He could hear Faith hissing, "She's going to bloody kill you, and I don't really fancy seeing you dead—"

"Annabeth," tried Percy cautiously, pulling his complete and undivided attention on the crazed daughter of Athena. The violent tendrils around her head tightened, looking as if they were seeping unto her skin. "Stay still. Please. You have to trust us."

There was now incessant banging and shouting from the outside of the Infirmary. He only allowed a quick glance to the threshold, realising that Faith had run over and pushed her back firmly against the doors.

Annabeth's eyes glimmered, but not in the good way Percy was hoping for. Before he knew it, she didn't give a second thought to start swinging her dagger in hopes of slitting his throat. Percy's mouth went dry when he realised Annabeth wasn't listening to what he was saying; she was going for his blood—

"You're not the real Percy I know!" Annabeth rounded on him. He felt sick when he somehow resembled her malevolent look to Aphorei's—

Percy distinctly heard Faith shout his name. "Annabeth, please." He gasped when his side was jabbed by the sharp edge of a cart, the sound of ripping cloth drowning in the yells that grew louder and louder from outside the Infirmary. "Just stay still, it'll be okay—"

"What did you do to me?" No, Annabeth didn't sound like this; he felt bile rise up in his throat because this time . . . this time, even if she didn't look any closer to Aphorei, she still had used the same honeyed voice the goddess had used to taunt at him.

Percy yelped, his eyes fluttering shut with horror burning in his throat once he saw the daughter of Athena raise her dagger at him. At the same time, the shattering sound of the Infirmary doors bursting open echoed around them as Faith was thrown back on the floor. The thick brindled dust coated their skins, decorating them in a pale grey.

"WHAT HAPPENED HERE?"

When he blinked his eyes open, Annabeth's dagger had already clattered to the floor with a clinking sort of noise. The periwinkle strings that were wrapped around on her head was now gone; and so was the violet Fyrmarc that was once adorning the wall.

Annabeth looked frightened out of her wits for just a mere second before she backed away from him, muttering, "No, no, no." She hesitantly faced the both outraged and shocked campers waiting outside, their mouths dropped and ajar.

It was Will Solace who had first broken the silence, looking from Faith—who appeared to be in aching pain with her back on the floor from the impact of the bursting doors—to a trembling Annabeth.

"What—how did—" Will seemed to register the absolute mess they concurred inside the Infirmary. Some of the curtains were sprawled on the floor, coated with an ugly shade of grey from the billowing smoke. "How did this happen? Percy?"

The son of Poseidon mentally swore repeatedly in his head. "I, er—" he helplessly shot Faith a look, pleading for her to help him. Even though the hunter was rasping and clearly in pain on the floor, she still managed to send him one flip of her middle finger as if to say this is all your fault, so deal with it.

"Oh, the ambrosia and nectar!" cried the same healer that they had met earlier in the Infirmary. The daughter of Apollo rushed over to the clear packets of ambrosia which splattered on the marble grounds.

Unlike the undamaged ambrosia, the wine-like bottles of nectar were utterly demolished, spilling on the floor like . . . well, it disgustingly reminded him of urine.

The other healers, who Percy knew considered the Infirmary as their practical second home, sent death stares at Percy—looking ready to strangle the hell out of him.

"Um . . . we're sorry?" Faith said meekly, moaning achily as she forced herself up on her feet with a sort of apologetic grimace.

Percy decided it was definitely time to step in before the healers really considered murdering him right then and there.

"Something went terribly awry, so very sorry about that," he said quickly, grabbing a stunned Annabeth by the arm, "we really didn't know what we were doing, but we promise to help on cleaning this up later," he then dragged an indignant Faith as all three of them made for the exit hurriedly, "if you don't mind, we really need to get going—"

"No way!" said the healer from earlier, glaring at them three discontentedly. More and more campers pooled behind them, watching the scene unfold. "You, Percy Jackson, promised me to stay in the Infirmary so we could treat your wounds. I don't give a fuck about what you can do—you have to stay here."

"Gotta say, ten points for her bravery," whistled Faith, which proved Percy's point that even in the worst of situations, she could still make light of it. He elbowed her, glancing apologetically at the unamused healer.

Percy tried. "Please, we really need to talk, even for just five minutes—"

"What, and you'll make mess of the Infirmary even more?" argued the daughter of Apollo. "Clearly, you cannot be left alone for more than a few minutes!"

"No! Er, we just need a moment. Outside." Percy paused, catching Faith's breath hitching before adding, "Privately."

Now, Percy has met a lot of people who had wolf stares so intimidating that he willingly made sure to steer clear of them. But this healer, who was slowly beginning to resemble Faith's uncanny attitude the first time he'd met her, was oddly determined.

"No," said the healer again, this time fixing her stare on Annabeth disdainfully. Every other camper watching them subtly grimaced, as if they'd dealt with this persistent behavior before from the daughter of Apollo. "You three are physically and mentally exhausted. Get some rest and let the healers tend to you."

Percy completely understood why Faith began looking mildly agitated too. Before the hunter could retort back, Will stepped up before feebly saying, "Kayla's right, Perce. Annabeth looks like she might collapse any moment."

"Oh, yes," Faith rolled her eyes, idle sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she gestured to the massacred Infirmary. "Please do tend to our wounds in this mess of a place, and—oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, bestowing upon the broken wine bottles. "Don't forget to feed us some of those nectar that looked as if a rabid feral beast crapped in it."

There might've been chortles or loud snickers that came from the amused campers, but the healer—Kayla, he remembered—looked absolutely done with them. With all do respect, Percy was surprised that the healer didn't even flinch an eye.

Will grimaced, squeaking in a tiny voice as Kayla looked just about ready to burst, "You really shouldn't do that—"

"We're going to go when and where we please," said Faith determinedly, unaware of how Kayla's nostrils flared delicately. "End of story. Let's go, Jackson."

*.·:·. ✧ ✦ ✧ .·:·.*

"End of story, eh?" Percy snorted when a fuming Kayla was out of earshot. He sat on a cotton-woven bed, running his hands over the bandages sealing his cuts that even ambrosia couldn't heal by itself.

To his right, Faith was sitting up straight and stubbornly snapping back whenever a healer told her to lay back. Just like him, she also had quite a few bandages decorating her porcelain skin.

"I don't like that Kayla person," declared Faith to no one in particular, watching the campers clear the Infirmary with heaved grunts or loud curses thrown in here and there. Occasionally, they'd throw Percy an accusatory glare for the ransack they created.

At some point of time, Chiron had been informed of what had happened. The old centaur wasn't exactly pleased at what he had done (ha! As if it were all Percy's fault), but he swore he'd seen a small bemused smile on Chiron's face before trotting off.

"You and that Kayla person have way more similarities than you think," said Percy, not even bothering to hide his grin.

Faith darted him a sour look. "I am not mean. Most of the time. Sometimes."

Percy managed a laugh, inwardly wincing at the bone-chilling sound of scraping metal as a camper grudgingly dragged a steel cart across the floor. "You always have that stubborn look in your face."

Faith huffed at him, shuffling on her bed. "You love me anyways."

They shared an awful case of snickers, to the point where he choked on himself and Faith was too busy clutching for breath to hand him a bottle of water. Percy had only shushed the hunter the moment he heard Annabeth stirring in her sleep, appearing disturbed with her eyebrows creased so tightly.

They waited for a few moments as Faith's smile faded abruptly. "You think it worked?" she whispered, and Percy knew what she meant. "You think she's fine now?"

"I hope," he answered airily, rubbing his calloused palms together anxiously. "There was the thing . . . the violet thing on her head. It was like . . ."

"Seeping into her skin?" offered Faith.

Percy nodded vigorously. "Exactly! I could feel it though—I knew, somehow, that it was working. It felt like a million ants were crawling on my body, and—"

He stopped talking the second a flash of medical white caught his eye. Kayla had ushered over towards them, a ball of cotton on one hand and a verdant green bottle on the other.

The healer approached Faith first. Percy could've laughed out loud at the mortified expression the hunter wore on her face when Kayla dabbed some sort of liquid on the cotton ball.

"Wha' are you doing?" said Faith, her words blundering up when the healer pressed on the wound. She appeared to be biting her bottom lip as hard as she could, flinching every so often at her own cuts.

Kayla kept a straight face, dabbing at the injury that was about as long as Percy's index finger. "Treating you. What else could I be possibly doing?"

"You're a healer."

"The best around here, actually," stated Kayla, the pride practically shining through her voice.

Faith didn't look so much as miffed. "I'm not used to . . . methods such as these. The healers in our Hunt are blessed with magic by Artemis—though it takes a little longer to heal the worst cuts, we could make the smaller ones disappear in an instant."

"Good for you. Now, extend your arm."

"You want me to pop a vein or something?"

"I'm a skilled healer, and I know what I'm doing."

Faith looked appalled. "Please, if you continue whatever you're planning to do with that needle—" Indeed, Kayla was reaching for a tipped needle on the table next to their beds. "—you're going to severely damage my brachial artery."

And just like that, Percy was entertained with the two healers' endless exchange of insults. He didn't have any clue as to what they were talking about, either—when a red-faced Kayla mentioned something about a cubital fossa, he internally began questioning his intelligence.

Percy, with all his will-power, waited patiently for another camper or healer inside the Infirmary to break Faith and Kayla apart because he knew those two would definitely not listen to any word he said.

"—divides into two and continues down the upper arm!" finished Faith, looking thrilled when the other healer frowned in thought. "Like I said, you should really just stitch this all up from here to there."

Kayla appeared resigned, and there was a slight strain in her voice when she said, "Yes. Of course."

Faith looked utterly triumphant with a small smirk on her face. "Ambrosia could fix the rest; right, Percy?"

The son of Poseidon blinked; time seemed to slow as he realised that the hunter had called him by his first name. It sent a fluttering feeling through him, but it was in a way that made Percy feel jittery.

"Yeah," he mumbled, wondering why it was so hot all of a sudden in the Infirmary. "You're right."

He didn't dare mention to Faith how she called him by his first name; he didn't care if she'd done it accidentally or willingly. All he knew was that he wished she'd do it more often.

Percy found himself smiling giddily. When Faith asked why, he didn't say anything.