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Grover has a problem. A really big one. One that isn’t acceptable by Pan or any other God, really. That’s why nobody can know what his problem is; nobody at all. Gods above if they figure it out. That thought was scary.
The thought of people finding out what’s wrong with him. The thought of Percy finding out he’s sick. And what would Annabeth say? Oh, it hurt too much to think about it. So he tried not to, but that didn’t go very well.
“Avoiding your emotions forever is impossible,” Annabeth says to him one night, refusing to look him in the eye out of her own embarrassment. “that’s why sometimes you have to come to terms with them instead.”
She realized what she’d said and immediately began to clarify, scared of the way Grover might interpret her words. “That doesn’t mean you should act on them, though! Sometimes your feelings are better off as just– emotions.”
Her eyes settled on Grover finally. She looked at the satyr as if she was trying to figure out what he thought of her speech.
“Yeah,” Grover murmured, bringing his hand up to pick at his horns. He felt bad, this was wrong. “you’re right. Thanks.”
Asking her for help of all people only left him with more guilt than before.
That conversation plagued Grover’s thoughts a lot. It felt weird to go to Annabeth for help, especially about this. She wouldn’t have helped him if she knew why Grover wanted it in the first place. She wouldn’t even want to be near him anymore, at all.
Honestly, it’d be deserved. I mean, imagine. Grover knew he wouldn’t stay if he was in Annabeth’s position and knew. But– she didn’t know. Was this even worth stressing over?
Maybe it wasn’t. But even then, he had other things to worry about. Like his main problem. The problem that had prompted that conversation in the first place. The problem that still, nobody knew about.
Even if they thought they did, nobody knew the truth. Not yet, the voice whispered in one ear. Not yet, but they will–and when they do, you won’t be allowed near anybody anymore. They’ll look at you weird. They might even kill you. Who knows? It’s not like this has ever been a problem before–
Grover wanted it to stop. He wanted to stop feeling how he did–he wanted to be better. To be acceptable; not like he was now. He knew part of this problem was normal–after all, many people are in love with their best friends.
But those people weren’t satyrs. Those people’s best friends weren’t demigods. Grover sighed, dropping his head farther into his thighs. His arms reached up to curl around his head, offering false comfort.
He was wrong.
He was dirty.
Sometimes his hopeful thoughts got the best of him. Sometimes he thought that maybe being with Percy wouldn’t be so bad– that maybe in another universe a satyr and a demigod wasn’t so wrong, so different.
And then he’d cry again. Him being a satyr wasn’t even the only problem. Percy had Annabeth. He didn’t want him–and even if he did, he would break Annabeth’s heart in the process. Grover would rather die than be a part of something that would harm Annabeth.
“Grover?”
A voice emerges into his thoughts. Go away, he wills it, and for a moment he thought it had stopped.
“Grover.”
It’s more urgent–it seems worried now. That was stupid; the voices he sometimes heard only taunted him. They didn’t worry. That just wasn’t something they did. They were there to punish him, not fuss over him.
But they never called him by name.
“Grover!”
His head snapped up and he was suddenly aware that this was a real person, not a figment of his imagination like he thought it was at first. The skin under his eyes felt damp; he must’ve been crying. The satyr sniffled.
Oh, just the person he wanted to see. Percy Jackson. Who was looking very good today–
“Grover, what’s– what happened?” Percy was close now, kneeled beside him, staring at him now. Grover fought back his blush with the thought that he was disgusting. He scrunched his nose up at that.
“Nothing!” He wasn’t trying to avoid it. “Nothing’s..”
And then he began to cry again. Even worse, he fell forward into Percy’s chest. The demigod froze for a minute before slowly bringing his hands to awkwardly pat Grover on the back.
“Uh,” Percy began. He wasn’t good at comforting people! “There.. there.”
Grover wanted to laugh. He would have if he wasn’t busy sobbing. His best friend was so stupid. There were at least a hundred other things to say besides there, there. Eventually he started to calm down, his cries turning into stuttering breaths. Percy held him through the entire thing, not bothering to try to speak again.
Neither of them spoke for at least a minute after Grover was done. They simply stayed there. Grover would stay there until Percy has enough of him and wants him off.
“Why were you crying?” Percy asked, and it was filled to the brim with awkwardness. Though, his voice was soft. He at least knew a little bit of what to do.
“No reason.” Grover muttered, lifting his face off of Percy’s shoulder. He didn’t meet the demigod’s eye.
“Grover.” Percy’s tone forced the other to look directly at him. Grover whimpered softly. “It’s– I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean I want you to lie to me. Just– say you don’t wanna tell me.”
Percy was so perfect.
Somehow it felt even worse to have those thoughts when he was looking him in the eyes, but Grover couldn’t help it. He huffed quietly.
“It’s stupid.” Grover sighed.
“Clearly not,” Percy immediately said, holding his best friend’s arms. “It’s not stupid if it’s enough to make you cry like that.”
Grover stayed silent.
“I just said I didn’t want you to lie to me.” Percy mumbled beneath his breath. “But if you’re that insistent on me not knowing that you have to, I’ll just go.”
The sting was more than what he’d ever felt as Percy walked away from him, but he didn’t stop it. Grover was being ridiculous and he knew that. He should just tell Percy he’s not ready to say.
But he doesn’t. He instead watches as Percy leaves him alone.
And then he cries again.