CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
FINLEY             BRIGGS

If there's one thing Finn hated more than having your feelings outed by Cupid in front of the guy you have feelings for, it was being forced to rest in the infirmary after having your feelings outed by Cupid in front of the guy you have feelings for.

Apparently, forcing Finn to verbally admit "I was in love with Jason Grace" and showing him her most traumatic memory of him kissing her wasn't enough. Cupid also had to send a column toppling down on her knee.

Her kneecap was probably fractured, or her leg was probably broken, or something along those lines. There wasn't really any way to tell, considering no one on the Argo II was an actual healer. There was Coach Hedge, with his satyr abilities, but Finn refused to let him go anywhere near her. He was allowed to advise others on how to help her. That was it.

"Others" really only consisted of Annabeth. She was the one who had been catering to Finn's injury, reminding her when to eat ambrosia, and carefully wrapping a brace around her knee. Finn let her, but only because it was Annabeth.

Ever since her two best friends had fallen into the depths of Tartarus, Annabeth had been pushing herself harder. She threw herself into the next problem without any rest, either trying to distract herself from her worry or to make sure Sylvie and Percy didn't sacrifice their lives for no reason. Finn understood that, and she was also fonder of Annabeth than most people on the Argo II, so she let her knee be Annabeth's current project.

Her knee was getting better, slowly but surely. Annabeth estimated just about one more day in the sickbay before the ambrosia healed her entirely.

Obviously, Finn couldn't eat ambrosia at a rapid pace—for reasons that caused Finn to burn up entirely and disintegrate on the spot. She wasn't going to complain about this. She knew ambrosia was supposed to taste like your happiest memory, but Finn's happiest memory made her sad. Every time she ate ambrosia, she tasted peanut butter and jelly. That was the sandwich Jason had made her to cheer Finn up when she was grieving the anniversary of her mother's death.

Just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but it meant the world to Finn.

"How're you feeling?" Annabeth asked.

Finn's head whipped down to where Annabeth was re-wrapping her knee in a snug brace, startled. For some reason, she felt her heart drop. She blinked dumbly.

"Wh-What?" Finn swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Barely looking up, Annabeth raised an eyebrow at her. "Your knee. How're you feeling with your knee?"

"Oh," Finn whispered, cringing. "Well, yeah, I knew that."

"Of course," she agreed. The sarcasm was evident.

Finn groaned, throwing her head back. The situation with Cupid had left her so messed up in the head. She wasn't supposed to be like this. She would actually rather be trembling from withdrawals than act like this.

"Just another question, totally out of the blue," Annabeth spoke again. "Are you sure there's not something else going on?"

"You hate me."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. She finished wrapping Finn's knee, gently removing her hands and straightening up in the chair to stare fully at Finn. Finn kind of hated it. Annabeth's eyes always felt like they were piercing into your soul, like she knew something about you that not even you knew about you.

"Yeah, sure," she drawled, "I hate you because I'm concerned about your physical and mental states."

"Someone that didn't hate me would never ask about those things," Finn responded, though she was embarrassed to say it came out rather childish.

Annabeth's all-knowing stare grew even more intense. "You can be evasive with everyone else, but I'm not getting fooled."

"Okay, Dr. Chase, let's see." Finn crossed her arms. "My physical and mental states? Well... I don't know how to read, I inherited being insane from my father, I died a few weeks ago—"

"Shut up, Finley."

The corner of Finn's mouth quirked up.

"Just want to make sure my patient file is up to date for you. Write down I'm allergic to leopards."

"I don't know why I bother," Annabeth muttered, underneath her breath. "Wait—you're allergic to leopards? But that's your father's sacred animal."

Finn shrugged, as much as she could in the infirmary's bed. "Yeah, being his kid has unpredictable side effects. Dakota's allergic to vines."

Annabeth looked like she wanted to judge these allergies further, but decided it was better to just... not.

"How do you even discover you're allergic to leopards?"

Finn felt a chill creep up her spine. She shuddered. "You don't want to know..."

Annabeth hummed, amused. "Okay, fair. My parents never had sex, and I was born from my mom's brain."

A beat.

"How does that work?" Finn asked, sounding absolutely mortified.

"You don't want to know." Annabeth grinned at her.

Finn found herself grinning back.

For a moment, the tension eased. Finn relaxed against the pillows, her arms uncrossing. She stared at the ceiling, but then her mind inevitably drifted back to the mess Cupid had caused. The old feelings she'd spent so much effort burying were now unearthed, and worse, Jason knew.

Jason. Just thinking about him made her stomach twist. She hadn't seen him once since the incident—everyone had visited her in the sickbay, even Nico di Angelo, except for Jason. Finn thought she would be relieved about that. She hadn't expected that made her want to cry and scream into the void. It was infuriating. And now, here she was, stuck in the infirmary with nothing but time to overthink every detail.

"Hey," Annabeth said. She didn't speak again until Finn glanced back over. "You're knee's gonna be fully healed pretty soon. When you get out of here, try to stay out of here. We kind of need you around, Finley."

Finn had already been looking at Annabeth, but now she felt her focus snap in Annabeth's direction. Her eyebrows rose, a little bit shocked—Okay, no. A lot of bit shocked.

Yes, Finn was aware she was one of the nine demigods in the Great Prophecy. Yes, Finn was aware that there was even a line in the Great Prophecy they were 99% sure pertained to her. But she'd never really thought... they needed her here. For the most part, all Finn had done was make snarky comments, snap at Jason, drink wine, and joke about things that probably shouldn't be joked about. She assumed they all perceived her as Camp Jupiter did: lazy, incapable, disgraceful.

But now Annabeth, an inhabitant of the Greek camp she yearned so badly to be a part of, had to go and say this.

"Um, sure you do." Finn laughed, hoping it sounded genuine and not awkward.

Annabeth stared at Finn. Her gaze was deadpan, and definitely not playing around. "I'm serious," she insisted. "We do need you. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Finn felt her stomach flip, and not in a good way. Annabeth didn't sugarcoat things. If she was saying something like this, she probably meant it. Still, Finn wasn't about to let herself believe her words too quickly. "Right," she said, forcing a smirk. "Because I'm just so great at breaking my knee and shaking from wine withdrawal."

"I mean it." Annabeth's frown deepened. "You're clever. You're powerful. You're pretty good with a gun. And when it counts, you come through. I've seen it."

"Don't flatter me, Chase," she deflected, resorting to a flirtatious tone. Finn winked at her. "I might start getting ideas. My, what lovely eyes you have. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes for the millionth time of being in Finn's presence. "You can't just flirt your way out of conversations you don't want to have. Has anyone ever told you that?" She sat back in her chair, sighing. "You would get along so well with the kids at Camp Half-Blood."

She had no clue how much that last sentence sent Finn spiraling again. Finn quickly dropped her gaze to her hands. She started picking at the fraying edge of the blanket, hoping Annabeth wouldn't notice the fresh wave of tension that had just washed over her.

Of course, Annabeth noticed. "Finley? Hey."

Finn froze. She glanced up to see that Annabeth's expression was knowing. Suspiciously, Finn breathed and backed away against her pillows.

"Yeah?"

"Sometimes the wisest thing to do is to figure it out yourself."

Finn's eyebrows creased together, for a second, before her expression went incredulous and confused.

"Super helpful advice from the Athena kid," she deadpanned. "What is that even supposed to mean?"

Then Finn realized that she had to be cursed with some terrible, unfortunate luck. Maybe she pissed off Fortuna for dying on her feast day. Because not even seconds after Finn asked that question, someone appeared in the sickbay's doorway.

Jason Grace, in all of his perfect, mighty glory.

Finn froze. Her stomach churned, sharp and unforgiving, like her insides were being wrung out. Her breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, her knee didn't hurt anymore. Her body wasn't shaking from withdrawal aftereffects. She was too busy feeling her chest constrict.

All she could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights of fate.

His shoulders were square, his chin slightly raised, and the blue in his eyes practically burned, like storm clouds barely containing lightning. But his confidence wasn't unwavering. His mouth was pressed into a tight line, and his knuckles were pale where his hand gripped the doorframe.

Hesitant.

Finn stared at him, heart pounding like it was trying to flee through her ribcage. Something about the way he stood there made her want to shrink into her bed. She tried to tell herself he wasn't intimidating, but no matter how hard she tried, that stupid little part of her—the part that had fallen for him—still screamed that he was the closest thing to a hero she'd ever seen.

Annabeth smirked, brushing imaginary dust from her jeans as she stood. "I think it's time for me to head out." She stepped toward the door, but not before turning to Jason and adding, "Oh, hey, Jason. Didn't see you there."

Traitor.

Jason shifted, clearly caught off guard by Annabeth's comment, but he didn't move aside. His gaze stayed locked on Finn, unreadable but heavy enough to make her freeze. The air in the room seemed to thicken as Annabeth left, leaving Finn stranded in a sea of her own nervous energy.

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The med-bay was quiet again, the kind of stillness that swallowed words and thoughts whole. Jason stood in the doorway, hesitant, his knuckles brushing the frame. Finn was in the same spot—propped up against her mountain of pillows—but something about her looked smaller, fragile in a way that made Jason frown.

She was pale and tired, her knee bandaged and elevated. She didn't dare move. Her fingers froze mid-pick on the frayed edge of her blanket, and her breath caught in her throat. Jason's eyes didn't leave her, and the intensity of his gaze made her feel like she was under a spotlight.

"I don't want to fight," Jason said, breaking the silence.

His voice was so soft, like he was afraid of breaking something if he spoke too loudly. She almost wanted to laugh at how different he sounded—careful, uncertain. This wasn't the Jason she remembered. This wasn't the cocky, confident son of Jupiter. He ran a hand through his hair which had grown far too long, messing up the perfect blonde strands. Now he just looked like someone who had learned how to be small. How to be... human.

Finn glanced at him, her green eyes wary. "Then don't."

He stepped inside. The chair Annabeth abandoned scraped softly against the floor as he pulled it closer. He sat, his hands folded in front of him, head bowed like he was about to pray. He stared at the floor as if it held answers to the whirlwind in his mind.

"I don't want to fight," he repeated, his voice low. "I want to make this right. I just... I don't know how."

Finn studied him, the walls she'd built so carefully still standing, but the cracks had begun to break her. Her lips parted, then closed again, because she couldn't decide what to say.

Jason took a shaky breath. "When Cupid forced me to see—everything I said to you, everything I felt—it scared me. Because I didn't know how much I'd hurt you, Finley. And I hated myself for it."

She hated herself too. She hated the way his voice cracked on her name. She hated the way her chest tightened at the sincerity in his words.

"I told you we don't have to talk about this," Finn whispered. The words tasted like ash in her mouth.

"We do," Jason insisted, his voice cracking like a splintered branch. "We do, because I need to."

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she looked at Jason—really looked at him—and saw not the perfect hero, but someone who was just as scared, just as unsure as she was.

Finn sighed. It sounded like almost defeat, or maybe resolution. "I get the gesture, but you really... don't know what you're talking about. I was young, and you were too, but now we're both different. That's all there really is to it."

"That doesn't make it better," Jason said, leaning forward, his voice tight with emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for whatever I said back then, for all that I did to hurt you. I swear I didn't mean it."

"You don't even know what you're apologizing for," she muttered. "You don't even look at me like you know who I am."

"That's not fair," he said, his tone desperate. "I know you. I've always known you, even when I didn't remember. You're my best friend, Finley. You're—"

"Stop." Her voice cracked, and she shook her head furiously. "Just stop."

"No," he said firmly, his eyes locking on hers. "You don't get to push me away anymore. I'm not walking out of here until we fix this. You're, like... You're the most important person in my life."

The words hung in the air like storm clouds, heavy and charged. Finn turned her head away, pretending to be fascinated by the shelves of medical supplies.

"I see now why you treated me the way you did. You were protecting yourself. But that can't be worth it. It doesn't feel worth it to me."

The vulnerability in his voice shattered whatever walls Finn had tried to put up. She exhaled shakily, her fingers gripping the blanket like it was a lifeline.

"Jason," she said, and she hadn't said that word in four years. It hit the space between them like a thunderclap. Jason's head shot up, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. For a moment, he didn't move, didn't even breathe. He just stared at her, like he wasn't sure he'd heard her right. Though, she followed it up with, "You've already left me twice."

But then Jason smiled. Not the kind of smile he gave when he was trying to reassure someone, or the half-hearted one he used to deflect attention. This was something different—something raw, unpolished. Something real.

"Third time's a charm?" he attempted. It reminded Finn why she claimed to hate him for so long.

"You're such an idiot."

Jason nodded thoughtfully, but he didn't seem deterred. She wished he reacted like he used to—hurt and defensive. "I see now. You're nervous."

"No, I'm not." Finn scowled, wondering where he came up with an accusation like that. "Do you even listen to what you say half the time? You have no idea what's going on at any given moment."

"Insulting me comforts you," he added, ignoring Finn's attempted insults.

"Grace," she snapped through gritted teeth.

It felt almost insensitive for him to try joking right now, when Finn's emotions were the topic of their discussion. While she was choosing not to fight with him at every second, that didn't mean she couldn't change her mind.

"Okay, yeah, I'm sorry," Jason's grin fell, and he got serious again. "For all of it. For what I said to you a few days ago, but also... for everything that happened at Camp Jupiter."

The rest of Jason's words didn't come immediately. He stared at her, his hands fidgeting in his lap, and Finn saw something raw behind his usual front. She had always been good at finding that part of him—the part that actually was Jason.

"From what I remember," he started, "I just wanted to be perfect so bad. I wanted to be good enough, and somebody people wanted. But looking back? None of that was worth it. I lost you. I lost myself. I can't even think of anything more that would be worse for me to lose. So... I don't know why I did it."

Jason's head tilted back up to look right at her. No one else was able to do that.

"I... I do know I'm sorry, though. I know that, whoever I was back there, I never want to be again."

Finn wanted to scream at him. She wanted to snap, You were someone people wanted, because I wanted you. But she was tired of screaming and snapping and everything else she'd been doing to Jason lately. She was so, so tired.

"I'm sorry, too," she muttered.

Jason shook his head adamantly. "Finl—"

"No, I am," Finn insisted. "You forgot what you did, but you also forgot that... I mean, I wasn't perfect. I tried making you hurt as much as I was hurting. I—I never want to be whoever I was back there, either."

Jason's breath hitched at her words. His gaze softened, the storm in his eyes settling into something calmer, something warmer. He sat up straighter, his hands still fidgeting, but the tension in his shoulders eased.

"I made it hard for you," she admitted quietly, the words slipping out like they'd been trapped for too long. "I made it so hard because I didn't want to feel like I needed you."

Jason's voice softened, "Did you?"

Finn's jaw tightened as she fought to keep her emotions in check. Her eyes flicked to him before darting away. "I don't know," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe. Sometimes."

Jason nodded, his expression unreadable. He breathed in deeply, and Finn would've paid all the money in the world to be told what he was thinking. She grew even more curious when he exhaled and seemed lighter, almost giddy.

"How about this?" he asked into the charged air.

Finn waited for him to continue, but he never did. Her brows furrowed.

"How about what?"

All of a sudden, Jason was taking his hand out of his lap. He stretched his arm out, so that his hand was lingering between himself and Finn. She was just about to judgingly ask what he was doing when—

"Hi," he greeted. "I'm Jason Grace. It's nice to meet you."

Finn blinked, staring at his outstretched hand as if it were a foreign object. The audacity of it. The simplicity. The childishness. Her lips parted, a mix of disbelief and irritation flashing across her face. She could almost hear his smile in his tone, that infuriating charm he always wielded like a weapon.

"Are you serious?" she asked, her voice flat. Her eyes narrowed at him, and she resisted the urge to slap his hand away.

Jason didn't flinch. If anything, his smile grew a little softer, a little less performative. "Completely," he said. "I figure we both don't like who we used to be, right? So why not try something new?"

Finn huffed a breath that was too much like a laugh for her liking. She wanted to hold on to the anger, to the frustration—it was safer, easier. But Jason's hand stayed there, steady, unwavering, like he was waiting for her to make the first move. No pressure. No demands. Just... waiting.

"You're ridiculous," she muttered, shaking her head.

But her fingers stopped picking at the blanket, and before she could talk herself out of it, she tentatively reached out, her fingertips brushing against his. Finn held his hand, and together, they shook their shared grip.

"I'm Finley Briggs. You can call me Finn."

Jason's grin broke wide and bright, like the sun breaking through storm clouds. "Nice to meet you, Finn," he said, his tone warm and teasing.

Finn rolled her eyes, but her hand didn't pull away. "Don't think this gets you off the hook," she said, though there was no venom in her voice. "You're still an idiot, and you still owe me one."

They both recalled the same interaction, back when they fought the giants—If you don't bleed out and die, I'll owe you one later.

"Fair," Jason replied, holding onto Finn's hand like it was his most important task. "But I'll take what I can get."

Finn's lips twitched, almost like she was fighting a smile. Almost. But she didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

"Honestly, I'm still processing the win of getting back my 'Jason' rights. Can we go back to that? Because you haven't called me Jason in a long time," he said, his voice almost reverent.

She didn't trust herself to respond. Her throat felt tight. Her hand in Jason's almost began trembling again.

He used their holding hands to his advantage, pulling them both closer to each other. The light caught the warmth in his eyes. "Say it again."

Finn glared at him, but the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. Still, she forced her hand out of his hold.

"Don't push your luck, Grace," she said, her tone sharp but not cruel.

Jason raised his hands in surrender, though his grin didn't falter. "Wouldn't dream of it."

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BAILEY YAPS...

JINLEY NATION'S FIRST EVER WIN!!!

See the thing about Jinley hitting rock bottom is that the only way to go from there is up. It took 62 chapters but. They're going up.

Also I had to include my second favorite Finley ship sorry don't shoot me but heyyy Annabeth ;)

Okay no but Jinley they really make me :((( Both of them were two kids who hurt each other because they themselves were hurting. Both of them really hate who they were at Camp Jupiter and are trying to be Greek. Both of them can only be themselves around each other, whether that vulnerability is good or bad. 

Finn being understood by no one, and not even understanding herself, but Jason being patient and taking his time with her and caring so much and yeah :(((

(We may not see a Finn POV again for a while??? Sorry but I don't know what canon storylines there are that matter more than Persylv in Tartarus...)