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Collections/Challenges: Whumptober, Day 3 (+20)
Prompt(s): “I look in people’s windows, transfixed by golden glows.” | Isolation | Candlelight | Found Family, “That’s new.” | Fancy Event
Character(s): Jason, Percy, minor—Hazel, mentioned—Annabeth, Leo, Piper, Frank
Rating: Teen
Summary: It’s the two year anniversary of Gaea’s defeat, and the gods are hosting a gala to celebrate. They’ve invited both Greek and Roman demigods, all of camp half blood, and of course, the seven themselves.
Too bad this day did nothing but remind Jason how.. different he was.
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Jason often found himself looking in people’s windows when he passed by. Not in a creepy way—at least, he hoped not. It was more… longing. He wanted to feel what it looked like. The yellow light spilling outside, the laughter, the quiet moments watching TV.
He wanted to have that for himself.
He often compared it to the tranquility of watching a candle. Seeing how it danced around the wick, flame growing bigger, brighter—then it would grow small, and the process would repeat.
That’s how it felt to look in people’s windows. They were glowing, warm, golden—like a candle. And he wasn’t. Still, he was transfixed, stood outside until he came to his senses and walked off.
He didn’t remember what it felt like to be golden. Glowing. Surrounded by laughter and family.
Sometimes he hoped, convinced himself that if he looked hard enough, he’d finally understand how it felt to live inside that golden glow. He’d know what it was like to be inside rather than looking in, face pressed against the glass.
Tonight, Olympus feels like just that. Golden and glowing, but not for him. Never for him.
The throne room was bustling, crowded and alive. Chandeliers sparkled, reflecting light in the most beautiful way (though why they had chandeliers, he didn’t know.). Polished marble shone white, blinding and clean.
It was a celebration. The two year anniversary of Gaea’s defeat. The two year anniversary of them, a group of demigods who barely knew each other, saving the world from complete and total destruction.
It was a random Wednesday to everyone in the mortal world.
To Jason, it was the anniversary of his downfall. When his life started to fall apart, not knowing how to build it back up again.
His chest feels tight as he looks around the room filled with gods, satyrs and demigods alike. He doesn’t feel like he should be here. Like he doesn’t deserve to be here.
If he tries hard enough, he could make out Annabeth talking to Athena over by her mother’s throne. Hands animated, likely in the middle of recounting her latest passion project—an architectural design that would make even Daedelus jealous. Her mom stood with elegant poise, a small smile on her face as she watched her daughter.
She looks proud, funnily enough, and Jason was happy for Annabeth. He knows how rocky their relationship used to be, he was glad that they’ve been able to move past it—at least somewhat.
His eyes wander some more and he spots Piper and Leo by the punch bowl—probably spiked with some godly alcohol—laughing together. They don’t notice him, not that Jason blames them, he was stood on the edge of the room—silent, waiting for something. What, he wasn’t sure, but something.
In his peripheral he could see Hazel and Nico talking to Hades. They look good together. Nico was in a suit (and Jason would bet money it cost more than his rent), and Hazel was clad in a stunning purple gown that made her glow.
She looked happy. She looked golden.
He could see others, too. Chiron, Mr D, some more demigods, all of them mingling with the crowd.
They all look like they belong.
Jason feels his chest get tight again and his own suit suddenly felt too small, too tailored. Wrong. After everything he’s gone through, everything he’s sacrificed, every comrade, every friend he’s seen die. He’s attending a gala on Mount Olympus like everything was fine. Like everyone made it out alive.
It wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine.
He was staring now, blankly, so lost in thought that he didn’t hear Percy walking up to him, didn’t register the sound of his shoes clicking on the marble. He didn’t realize he was there until he started talking, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“That’s new,” Percy says. Jason blinks, turning to face the older demigod. He has a glass of something (champagne, maybe?) in one hand, his other hand holding a brownie with a bite already taken out of it. His suit jacket is hanging open like he couldn’t be bothered, and his bowties crooked. Jason pretends not to notice.
“What’s new?”
“You in a tie. Never seen that before.” He says with a shrug, taking another bite of his brownie. Jason glances down at himself, the dark navy suit, the light blue undershirt, the matching tie. Not a single thread out of place. He looked perfect—formal, put together. Roman.
(He tries to pretend that the knot on his tie doesn’t feel like a noose, that the gold pin on his lapel doesn’t weigh twenty pounds. He’s supposed to look the part even if he hated it. He was the son of Jupiter, after all.)
“You’re one to talk.” He replies after a moment, giving a pointed look towards Percy’s unbuttoned jacket. He just smirks, popping the rest of the brownie into his mouth before gliding away, disappearing into the crowd.
Jason feels empty again. Hollow. He knows he shouldn’t, knows there should be more than the broken echo of survival, but he can’t feel it. Hasn’t been able to since his resurrection last year.
He still doesn’t know if he feels grateful or not.
Eventually, he starts to mingle, making his rounds—but it feels robotic, fake. Every smile comes on easy, bright, but it feels forced. He avoids his father, joins Athena and Annabeth for a brief moment to discuss the temples he’s been planning, then moves on.
Stop, talk, smile, walk away, repeat.
Every step feels distant and heavy, every sound loud like thunder, and he feels impossibly small under the giant ceiling. He finds Hazel after a moment by the desert table, her hair perfect and natural, framing her amber eyes beautifully. She gives him a smile, a comforting hug, and pulls him into a conversation before he’s even had the chance to say hello.
He grins, and his chest feels lighter the more they talk even if his feet still feel like they’re trying to pull him through the floor.
(Trying to drag him back to the underworld, more like. Back to where he’s supposed to be.)
He tries to push the thought out of his head before it spiralled into something worse, to no avail. He cleared his throat, ignoring Hazel’s concerned but knowing glance. He offered up a small smile of reassurance while he went through the motions of his flashback.
(He ignored the phantom pain, his heart hammering in fear, the sharp breaths he tried to disguise as laughter.)
He can tell Hazel wants to ask what’s wrong, she has that specific glint in her eyes, that knowing tightness in her smile. He excuses himself before she gets the opportunity, slipping away within seconds. He finds himself back on the edge of the party, looking in rather than looking around. He can’t see Hazel, which is good, because that means she can’t see him either.
He doesn’t want the questions. The pitying looks. The half-hearted promises she won’t be able to keep.
(Even if she’d try her best—has tried her best. Jason doesn’t want to be a burden.)
He looks around and thought of his friends. They’d all managed to build something these last two years, something real, something meaningful. Something beyond the prophecy.
Jason? He was still standing outside the window, forever looking in, forever a stranger even among his peers.
No matter what he does, he’ll never be like them. He’ll never be important enough to be anyones first choice. Never important enough to check up on.
(He knows it’s not true, but… sometimes, it was hard to believe otherwise.)
He feels isolated, and he knows he’s not—he knows his friends would usher him closer in a heartbeat, but he just.. can’t.
He’s fundamentally different from the rest of them. Well, except for Hazel, funnily enough—she’s the only one who really understands what he’s been through. Even then, he rarely finds an opportunity to talk to her nowadays. Tonight was one of those few occasions where she could forget her responsibilities, go out, and have some fun. (All Because Frank didn’t want to go.)
He had the right idea, Jason thought. He wished he himself didn’t have to go, but he didn’t have an excuse like Frank did. New Rome needed a Praetor. Jason’s apartment didn’t need him.
Still, it would’ve been more comfortable than this.
He would never get over it, how you could be surrounded by hundreds of people, music, too much food to even process, and still feel like no one notices you.
Isolated. Different. Wrong.
The room is golden, but the light fell short just before it got to his feet. He’s not glowing. He can’t.
His glow died the second he did.
And there he goes again, remembering his death. It’s constantly circling his head, like a vulture, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And when it does he can’t breathe, can’t escape it—can’t ignore it. The feeling just consumes his body, squeezing him tight, reminding him just how painful bleeding out can be.
He hates it. It’s been a year and still, he can’t go a day without remembering.
He knows he should be grateful. He’s alive—he knows that there’s a million people who would give for a second chance like this, but he’s not one of them.
He never asked for this. He never asked for his childhood to be full of abuse, abandonment, Roman soldiers and forced camaraderie. He never asked to serve the gods until his final breath—to keep serving them, even after that.
He never asked for Percy to save him. He didn’t need saving—he needed a break. He needed to be himself, alone, without any expectations.
Even if his friends had been ecstatic when they found out he was alive, their happiness couldn’t fill the hollow void in his chest. It didn’t erase the memory of his life fading away with every beat of his heart. It didn’t take back the fact that his childhood was lost, stolen, replaced with rules, regimes and ruthlessness.
It didn’t take away the relief he’d felt after he made it to the underworld, even though he’d been scared.
He’d gone through so much. More than most humans. More than most demigods. Wars, betrayal, death, resurrection.
And he was still here. Shouldn’t that mean something?
It does but he doesn’t care. All he can feel is longing. To be normal. To be in those golden glows. To be accepted for who he is without having to play a part.
(He’s so tired.)
He slips away, unnoticed and undetected. His feet carry him down a nearby corridor, empty asides for a few Satyrs, but he knows they don’t care about him.
There’s braziers lining the walls and fire casting a golden glow on the marble. The warmth doesn’t reach him, the fire just barely lights up his face. He’s reminded once again of those windows, the light he couldn’t quite step into.
He finds himself on a balcony, overlooking the city of Olympus with a blank face. The city stretches on farther than he could see, even with his glasses. Some houses are dark, but some are lit up, having their own celebrations with close family and friends.
(Why couldn’t he just be normal and celebrate with everyone else?)
He’s not sure how long he stood there, staring. Long enough that the music had started to die down and his body felt impossibly tense from his lack of movement.
For the second time that night, Percy managed to walk up to him undetected. He stood next to him, back leaning against the rail, hands shoved in his pockets. Jason watched Olympus, but Percy’s gaze was still facing the party.
“Kinda loud in there, huh?” He says quietly, nodding towards the corridor. Jason only nods, humming noncommittally.
“It’s stuffy too. With everyone breathing in the same room for that long, I don’t think there’s any oxygen left.”
Jason laughs then, his head tilting forward while his shoulders shook subtly. He could see Percy’s grin in his peripheral, his eyes lighting up with a fondness Jason didn’t think he deserved.
“That’s one way to put it.” Jason says after a moment, holding his head back up. He glances over at Percy, giving him a small smile.
“So what brings you out here?” Percy asks, jutting his head towards the city. “Surely it’s not the food that pushed you away.”
Jason let out a small huff of laughter. “No. I just…”
He took a deep breath, looking away from Percy for a second. “There’s so much going on, I needed some air.”
Percy seemed to study him for a moment, trying to decipher what that meant without prying. People might think Percy’s oblivious and careless, but Jason knows he’s better than most people give him credit for. He knows when to ask, when to stay silent, when to be subtle and when to be upfront.
Jason has always appreciated that about him. He doesn’t need to try with Percy. He can just… exist.
“You’re allowed to be here, you know,” Percy says finally, looking at Jason with a neutral expression.
“I am here.”
“Not what I mean.” His says simply, his gaze staying fixed on Jason. “You’re acting like you’re crashing the party, like you don’t belong.”
Jason wants to say that he doesn’t, he never has and never will, but Percy continues before he has the chance. “But you did just as much as the rest of us—if not more.”
There was a terse silence. “More than me, anyway.”
“I know.” He says quietly, cringing ever so slightly once he realized how it came off. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”
He ignores the irony in his statement, looking down at the railing with a closed off expression.
Percy doesn’t push. Doesn’t say anything for a good moment. Instead he stares at him, giving Jason a look that’s equal parts understanding and exasperation. Jason pretends not to notice.
Percy finally turns back towards the corridor they both came from, looking down the hallway with a soft expression. “For what it’s worth…” he starts slowly, reaching a hand over to place on Jason’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here—alive. I don’t know what we’d do if you were dead.”
Jason winces, and he knew Percy caught it, but he doesn’t say anything. He continues slowly, his hand a solid presence on his shoulder, keeping him grounded. Connected. “I think about it, you know. If you were still dead. I mean, how fucked would this party be, right?”
He looks over at Jason, but he didn’t look back. He squeezed Jason’s shoulder before taking off his hand, leaning his forearm back on the rail.
“I know you regret it sometimes, following me. But I hope you know I don’t. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, even if I had to put a rope around your ass and drag you back.”
Jason snorts then, letting the sound taper off into a short silence.
“I don’t regret it—mostly.” He says softly, turning towards Percy. “I’m… grateful that you cared enough to bring me back. I just—I dunno, ever since I came back, I’ve felt…”
Empty. Hollow. Broken. Wrong. Like an outsider.
“…different.”
Percy nods thoughtfully, and Jason knows he doesn’t need to explain. Percy had been there with him through it all. Every meltdown. Every panic attack. Every time his body felt wrong and he couldn’t look at himself without crying. Percy was there for him. Was still there for him.
Hell, he’d lived with Percy and his family for a good few months before he moved out. Finishing his high school classes online, getting his life together, figuring out how to navigate his new body.
They’d been nothing but supportive, even when he felt more like a burden than anything.
“You can always talk to me, you know.” Percy cut through his thoughts, a small smile on his face. “If you feel out of place, or alone, whatever. I’m here for you man.”
Jason nods, looking at Percy with an expression too filled with emotion to decipher. “Thank you.”
He knows it wasn’t enough, knows there was so much more he had to say—wants to say. But he doesn’t. He hopes those two words encompass everything, every little thing Percy’s done for him when he had no obligation to help.
Percy gave him a small smile, understanding and fond, before he stood up. “I should get back to the party, I told Leo I was going to crush him on the dance floor.”
Jason hums softly and Percy turns back to him, giving him a knowing look. “Join us when you’re ready Jace. We’ll be waiting.”
He gave Jason an over exaggerated wink, clapping a hand on his shoulder before he took his leave. His polished shoes echo around the corridor, bouncing around Jason’s skull until it faded into a comfortable silence.
He let out a breath, looking back out at the city of Olympus.
Maybe… maybe he wasn’t an outsider. Maybe he didn’t have to look through windows anymore. Maybe he had a family, just not one most people expected.
He doesn’t have typical parents, his sister’s an immortal goddess, and he never had any pets—but he has them. The seven. Reyna. Nico. Will. Percy. Someone who noticed when he slipped away, someone who went out of his way to make sure he was okay. Someone who said ‘I’m glad you’re here’ and meant it, even if Jason found that hard to believe.
He had them. All of them. No matter what.
The fire from the braziers keep on flickering, casting a golden glow onto the marble beneath his feet. He looks up, straightens his back, and turns around. He steps into the light, letting the flames coat his skin. Just enough to feel it instead of watching from afar.
He starts his slow trek back to the party, watches the glow dance around the walls, creating shadows and shapes that left him transfixed.
He feels warm, and for once, it was enough.