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There's nothing happening out of the ordinary. They've set up camp for the night in a small clearing of grass in the forest, flames of their campfire flickering while stories and jokes are passed around. Even if they've been shared a million times before. And Percy is sitting with them, for once. Quiet, as he often is, but he's not isolated himself off to the side entirely this time.
So when his mind wanders, and a memory flashes through the forefront of his mind, it catches him off guard.
It's not wholly terrible. Rather, it's a fonder memory than most others. It's not full of blood and agony. But it is bittersweet nonetheless.
The cell was damp. It smelled of moisture and dirt, water droplets sneaking in through cracks in the roof above. He hadn't been there long, and he wouldn't stay much longer. It'd taken hardly two days to learn the routine of the barely managing guards, and he had more than enough willpower alone to best them and be on his way.
Lost in thought, he nearly startled when something touches his foot.
When he'd glanced up, his cellmate, who he'd hardly seen crawl out from under one of the small beds of hay, sat near his outstretched foot. A boy, covered in dirt and dried blood streaked across his face stared back.
Then the boy stuck out his hand. A large piece of bread, the only meal they each received one of a day, was held in it. When Percy hadn't moved, the boy shuffled a bit and shoved his hand even closer. His head tilted in curiosity.
Percy… hadn't been sure what to do. So angry and clouded by vengeance, he'd torn through people like paper. Never stopped to observe anymore. But there, doing nothing but waiting and watching, he didn't know what to make of the child before him.
"For me?" He asked, inevitably, because he didn't know what else to do.
The boy nodded, grinning at Percy's reluctant interest.
"Why?"
The question was short and blunt, though not unkind. And for a moment, the boy seemed to falter. Eyebrows pinched together in thought, like he'd been solving a puzzle. And maybe he had been. If he was, when the puzzle was completed in his mind, he brightened up once more. Like a steadfast flower in the face of a turbulent storm that refused to be trampled.
"You look sad," The boy replied, as though that answered every question there would ever be, "and I think you could use a friend."
Percy hadn't known what to answer such pure innocence with. He took the bread in the end, only because it felt worse to ignore the child. The look on the boy's face when he did was worth whatever self-resentment boiled through his skin.
He's startled from the memory by a hand on his shoulder. He pulls his eyes from the fire, facing a concerned Vex, "Are you alright darling? I was calling your name but you seemed to be quite lost in thought."
"I was, truth be told," Percy replies honestly, after a moment of hesitation, "I was just… lost in a memory."
Vex sits beside him then, between Percy and the rest of their group, though they seem to be paying the two any mind, "What of? You didn't seem upset."
"I wasn't. It wasn't a bad memory at all. Just… well, one that I suppose was more of a lesson than anything. Imparted wisdom."
Percy turns to face her fully, and his breath catches at how focused Vex is on his words. It's almost distracting. Almost. But she clearly wants to know, and for once, it's memories he has no reservations over. He glances away, unable to keep his train of thought when she's looking at him like he hung the moon.
"Before you all found me, I wound up in a number of jails. Most of them in small towns were barely managed, and I was usually out in less than a week's time. Usually I was alone, but… there was a time when I wasn't."
"Well, technically you'd had a cult leader for company when we found you."
"Semantics, dear. The company I'm speaking of was more living than that man ever was, and… I don't even know how he'd ended up there," Percy frowned then, running a hand through his hair out of habit, "I never asked. Too caught up in my own qualms and plans at the time but, well. There'd been a boy. Couldn't have been older than 12."
Vex hums, considering, "Thievery would be my guess."
"Perhaps. Regardless, for the first few days, I didn't see much of him. Stayed burrowed under a blanket on one of the shit hay-beds we had. It was that third day that he'd startled me out of my thoughts, shoving the ration of bread he'd gotten at me."
Vex snorts at that, "What, did he think you were going to starve on your own?"
"No," Percy answers, soft and almost a whisper. Something fragile, and he notices how Vex's expression shifts from teasing to serious at his tone, "Not at all. He just… I asked him why. I suppose he got my point, but I wanted to know why he'd give me the only food he would receive that day. He didn't even know me."
Percy leans back then, hands splayed behind him as he stares up at the infinite void of stars, "He just told me I looked sad. Said he thought I could use a friend."
The quiet of the moment is broken by a loud belch from Grog some feet away, and the loud cackling from the rest of the party that followed. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Percy grins, and he knows Vex has noticed when her hand finds his, resting on top of his own. It's comfortable, and it feels right. He doesn't pull away.
"I think he was right."