Chapter Text
I didn't mean to sound fucked.
I didn't mean to sound fucked.
"K—!" I gasped, "K—Kronos—s is here!" I sobbed. My eyes were still closed; I didn't dare open them. What if it's not just empty darkness I see but Kronos?
Being blind was better.
Someone grasped my arm, my face. Immediately, I panicked.
"No!" I screamed, "No—ughhhh—no! No!"
"Percy!" My breathe faltered ever so slightly.
"G—Guys?" My voice sobbed.
They both clutched on me, holding on for dear life and with a promise that even if this moment ends, it'll last.
"You were having nightmares," Annabeth murmured in my hair, while Grover sang hymns and prayers for me. "You were screaming and sweating, we had to wake you up."
"Luke," I sobbed in their arms, if they weren't here I would've been embarrassed of my snot, spit and tears. "Luke! He's—He's gone. I—"
"—know." Annabeth said.
"We know." Annabeth repeated. "From before you woke up moments ago."
"I'm sorry," I apologized tearfully.
"No." Grover stopped me immediately. "Do not even think that way."
I sniffed at him, "does this mean you have no right to blame yourself about Thalia's demise anymore?"
"Nothing about what he's done was your fault. It was all his to make."
"How?" I whispered, making grabby hands to the water nearby. Grover handed me the water but Annabeth took it from my hands and instead held it for me as I drank.
"Nymphs and gods," Annabeth answered, "some nymphs gossiped and Lord Hermes told us what happened. He—he wasn't happy."
"What did you expect?" Grover muttered darkly, "what's happened to Luke? Why would he do this?"
"I—" my voice died, "are you okay?"
"No," her face shut off and that was it.
I wondered if the air was still awkward because of how our conversation ended a while ago. Though, I couldn't blame them.
"I can't believe that he....," Annabeth sniffed, she was sad and then she was full of rage, "......Yes, fucking yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him, may he never find peace."
Her expression was dark and her eyes promised true threats, "he was never the same after the quest." She said then she seethed, "I can't believe he had the guts to do that."
My lips pursed, I couldn't say much.
How could I say that this was Luke's way of showing his love? How could I say it was his way of showing his protection?
"He has to pay," she bit out, "he has to pay for what he's done. This quest nearly got us kidnapped and killed." She glanced at Grover, sending him looks, "I can't believe he'd do this to Grover of all people."
"He must've blamed me." Grover murmured, "Thalia's death was on me."
"Thalia's death was on Zeus!" I snapped, before biting my lip red. "He turned her to a pine tree, instead of saving her." Grover gaped at me, shock oozed from him.
"He must have good reasons....." I said, "with Luke, all I felt was love. Familial love. Sometimes it was too much."
Annabeth rubbed her hand all over her face. "What good will joining Kronos bring?" She whispered tearfully. "What good, Percy?"
In the end, we had to go home. Not before we talked to an overbearing god. Hermes was supposed to be the one to tell us to go home, but he flashed elsewhere before the order came through. I couldn't blame him, this was his son he was talking about.
His son that he neglected? His son that he abandoned? Pretty sure he was no longer his son the moment Like failed that stupid fucking quest—
I inhaled, steadying myself.
I avoided Apollo's eyes for the long while that he talked, there was something familiar about it that I couldn't place. His emotions were the only things I felt from him, and his presence. To say his emotions was a wack was an understatement. It was purely indiscernible. Nostalgia. Wistfulness. Sadness to Happiness and Delight. Recognition and agonized feelings I could barely name. I shuddered, closing my eyes. This better not be care I'm feeling.
Recognizing my distress, Grover hid me behind him. Making sure to exaggeratedly stand taller than he should while I listened to Apollo talk about the plans. Annabeth stood beside Grover, listening and protecting at the same time.
Though, they both chose to stay at camp while I chose to go back to my family—that was returned by Hades, according to Apollo.
It's been too long since I felt their embrace. I miss Harry's rants about everything he hates about Gabe and the notebooks he has that he's been using to take notes of everything that he observed. I miss Mom's blue cookies and lovely smile.
Apollo didn't question my decision, he sent me a conspirational wink and only making a swish of his hand then disappearing with a golden pop.
"Go you two!" His voice carried in the air. "Percy can go last!"
Annabeth and Grover glanced at each before looking back at me.
"Go," I told them, "it feels like I have some unfinished business to attend to."
At the right moment, Poseidon entered the room. Annabeth and Grover avoided him entirely, bowing quickly and leaving the room with enthusiasm. Poseidon's aura must've been overwhelming, it's a natural thing, to be afraid of the ocean. For one it was big and deep. It was a big flowing abyss that's as unpredictable as it is beautiful.
"Percy," Poseidon looked at me with joy.
I gulped and looked away. There was one thing the brothers were commonly good at, giving me eyes that made me uncomfortable.
"What you have done today will echo for centuries," he murmured appraisingly. "You convinced my dear little brother of mine to actually act instead of deny."
The sky around us rumbled.
We ignored it.
"I am so proud of you, my child."
I rocked on my heels, "thank you.... Father." I muttered.
"It's a strange word for you isn't it?"
"Gee, who could have been the reason for it?" I reminded him unforgivingly.
His eyes glinted.
I didn't doubt that I would die by his hands. I didn't feel a single emotion from that indicated that he would. Only the overbearing but kind sea was I felt.
He was smiling at me, the bastard.
"Obedience doesn't come naturally to you, does it?"
I wanted to say what I said a while ago but held myself back. What's wrong with me? I thought, what's up with the banter? I thought I should close any feelings off from these gods?
"No, father." I said, truthfully, managing to keep myself from shaking.
"Good." Poseidon said, proudly, "the sea does not like to be restrained. Fates forbid someone tries to." He held his hand out to me, "Apollo said you wished to go back to your family?"
I nodded, but reluctantly told him; "I don't want you to flash me there."
Translation: I don't want your help.
He raised a brow.
"It's..... I really— I don't want it. I can go there myself, it's near anyway."
Translation: I've already managed myself before you.
"Then," he stated, "I'll walk you to the elevator instead."
I sighed internally, outside, I looked at him blankly.
"Come along now!"
He pulled me along, two of his hands on my shoulder as we walked with stride with him beside me. My body followed along but my mind screamed obscenities in my mind. I don't I could stomach being near him after what he'd done to two of my mother's. Medusa and Sally Jackson. As a result, I tried not to whither under his touch. We were like a flower to seawater.
"You have a package waiting for you at home."
I blinked at him innocently, "package?"
"With that package you must make a choice." He said, ignoring my innocence tirade bullshit. Though, I could tell he was pleased—about what, I do not know.
"You must choose your path," he advised me. "Only you, Percy."
"With you gods?" I said out loud, "I don't know and I don't think so." Though I knew what he meant.
Father nodded, "your mother is a queen among women." He said wistfully, a hint of something in his eyes that made me falter.
"I do not regret having you but I—" his brows furrowed, not knowing what to say, "but I am so sorry you were born with a tragic fate."
I stared at him, at least he knew what having me meant. Maybe, he was more aware of what his actions had done than I thought. Still, it didn't excuse anything. His words won't heal me, it'll only give me a peace of mind. It won't reverse the shit my mom had gone through. We finally got to the Elevator (fucking HELL. WHY NOT TELEPORT ME?), I could tell I was gonna have the worst time again.
"Percy," he said, "my dear daughter, do not misunderstand my intentions, know that I am proud of you and you will always be a true child of the Sea God."
His eyes were full of pride, mom always looked at me that way but this time it came from my father.
I bowed to him slightly, "thank you, father." I said, reluctantly.
I went down the Elevator, trying not destroy the speakers in the Elevator for having such a shit taste of music. My dad sucks kept repeating and it was a daunting reminder that his pride for me won't last that much long.
Ding!
I raised a brow at the shocked mortal—that must've been a tourist base on the clothes—that had a phone pointed to my direction. Which must've been live. The mortal gaped at me while I closed the elevator in front of him. While I left him there, a series of pings could be heard throughout.
The Elevator moved down, pausing when it finally reached the the first floor (hopefully the crazy Elevator didn't make me end up in the basement).
I exited the Elevator only to be mobbed by dozens of reporters asking questions and wanting to figure out what had happened to me and my quest mates.
I answered, full of mirth.
It’s funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told me that long ago. As usual, I didn’t appreciate his wisdom until much later.
According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake. This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted me and two other adolescents in New York and brought us across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror. Poor little Percy Jackson wasn’t an international criminal, after all. He’d caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterwards, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus – 'Why didn’t I remember him before?') The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St Louis Arch. After all, no kid could’ve done that. A concerned owner of a small Deli had seen the man threatening his abductees inside her Deli and even saw Percy Jackson fight him off with a gun but ultimately lost, she had gotten a friend to take a photo and immediately notified the police during the ordeal. Finally, brave Percy Jackson (I was beginning to like this kid) had stolen a gun from his captor during their brief stay in a casino and battled him shotgun-to-rifle outside the casino and managed to run away.
Apparently, the associates of the kidnappers appeared outside the Casino leading the kids to hide and never appear again, unfortunately their kidnappers caught Percy and brought her here.
The reporters fed me this whole story. I just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn’t hard), and played a victimized kid for the cameras.
I tugged Empathos to draw out emotions, the stench of distress, fear and pain flowed freely through me.
"All I want," I said, choking back my tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew… somehow… we would be okay. And I know he’ll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here’s the phone number."
The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for a trip to my apartment. Shrewdly, I took the extra money, thanking them tearfully.
"Poor gal," the Taxi driver said to me, "you don't have to pay no more."
I cried, let me tell you. Somehow, I cried to a mortal than to my god father.
I ran to my apartment, not minding the mortals—wow, not people anymore—who bumped into me. I was back to our shitty apartment, a place with only a little bit of hope inside of it. I knocked with urgency, tugging and tearing at the hem of my clothes that I was sure it no longer fit me after this.
The door opened to mom and Harry.
I burst into tears again, overwhelmed by relief and joy.
I'll thank Hades later on, I thought, regardless of the disgust I felt from him.
The both of them was flooded with worry, I cried and they both pulled me into a tight embrace that I wish would last longer than before. I was overwhelmed by them. Their scent, their happiness and just them.
"Percy!" Harry whisper screamed, "I missed you!"
"Harry!" I pulled away to take a good look at him and promptly frowned at the sight.
"You look..... White."
Mom laughed at Harry's face.
"I was floating and at the same time, falling, in cold darkness!" He shrieks at me. "Try being in the dark for nearly a week!"
"Gee," I raised a brow at him, "why so horse face?"
"Nothing," he hugged me again and buried his face in my neck, "I just really miss you, Percy."
I sighed lovingly, "thank you, Harry. Love me like your tots?"
"Love you like my tots," he agreed.
It was mom's turn to hug me. I was crushed by her love, I couldn't breathe but that was just details.
She was shaking as she held me and I shook along with her. My arms trembled as I held her.
"Thank the gods," she murmured into my hair, "thank the fates, oh Percy, my Percy." She whispered as she cradled me close.
She told me she’d just appeared at the apartment that morning, scaring Gabe half out of his wits then Harry appeared later on as well, scaring him into tumbling on air. She didn’t remember anything since the Minotaur (she didn't remember being encased by jewels which made me relieved), Harry was apparently stuck in darkness mentally and hadn't remembered anything aside from the Minotaur and being dragged to death. My mom scowled and promised to tell us more about monsters
After many things I'd done, mom couldn’t believe it when Gabe told her I was a wanted criminal, travelling across the country, blowing up national monuments.
Harry only laughed at the idea, as if gleeful of my unintentional terrorism.
Mom had been going out of her mind with worry all day because she hadn’t heard the news. Gabe had forced her to go into work, saying she had a month’s salary to make up and she’d better get started, Harry had to go to the old library he was staying at.
I swallowed back my anger and told her my own story. I tried to make it sound less scary than it had been, but that wasn’t easy. I was just getting to the part where I met Hades when Gabe’s voice interrupted from the living room.
"Mom," I whispered, pulling her down to my height, "we'll talk later on about something."
"Hey, Sally! That meat loaf done yet or what?" She closed her eyes, holding back her own venom. The interruption made Harry spare a glance that promised worse things than Mrs. Dodds torture methods.
"He isn’t going to be happy to see you, Percy. The store got half a million phone calls today from Los Angeles… something about free appliances."
"Oh, yeah. About that…" She managed a weak smile. Harry muttered something about how the people were cowards and should've just raided the store since it was free anyway—though, he only thought that way because he wanted to piss off Gabe.
"Just don’t make him angrier, all right? Come on." In the month I’d been gone, the apartment had turned into Gabeland. Garbage was ankle-deep on the carpet. The sofa had been reupholstered in beer cans. Dirty socks and underwear hung off the lampshades.
Gabe and three of his big goony friends were playing poker at the table.
When Gabe saw me, his cigar dropped out of his mouth. His face got redder than lava. "You got nerve coming here, you little punk. I thought the police—"
"She’s not a fugitive after all," my mom interjected. Harry's mouth quirked up. "Isn’t that wonderful, Gabe?" Gabe looked back and forth between us. He didn’t seem to think my homecoming was so wonderful. He burned in my mind.
"Bad enough I had to give back your life insurance money, Sally," he growled. "Get me the phone. I’ll call the cops."
"Gabe, no!" He raised his eyebrows. "Did you just say 'no'? You think I’m gonna put up with this punk again? I can still press charges against him for ruining my Camaro."
"But—" He raised his hand, and my mother flinched.
For the first time, I realized something. Gabe had hit my mother.
Harry's face twitched and turned cold, he was going to do something with Gabe later on. It was something that'll scar polices, I'd say.
I didn’t know when, or how much. But I was sure he’d done it. Maybe it had been going on for years, when I wasn’t around. A balloon of anger started expanding in my chest. I came towards Gabe, instinctively taking my pen out of my pocket. But I faltered in my place, it'll harm monsters right?
What was Gabe but a monster in human skin?
He just laughed. "What, punk? You gonna write on me? You touch me, and you are going to jail forever, you understand?"
"Hey, Gabe," his friend Eddie interrupted. I seethed at the sight of him. The sink in our kitchen might have burst from my anger.
"She’s just a kid." Gabe looked at him resentfully and mimicked in a falsetto voice: 'Just a kid!' His other friends laughed like idiots.
You don't look at me like a kid! I noticed Eddie's lingering stare.
"I’ll be nice to you, punk." Gabe showed me his tobacco-stained teeth. "I’ll give you five minutes to get your stuff and clear out. After that, I call the police."
"Gabe!" my mother pleaded.
"She ran away," Gabe told her. "Let her stay gone." I was itching to uncap Riptide but, even if I did, the blade wouldn’t hurt humans. And Gabe, by the loosest definition, was human.
My mother took my arm. "Please, Percy. Come on. We’ll go to your room." I let her pull me away, my hands still trembling with rage. Harry followed closely behind.
I exhaled, eyes widening, "the package!" I said, just as a pop! Echoed in my room.
"Package?" Harry mouths.
I tugged both of them into my room and there it was, the same package that sold my impertinence to the gods.
"Percy," my mother said.
"Mom," I breathed out, "do you want Gabe gone."
"I do!" She said, "god's I do."
Me and Harry looked at each other before I went back to my mom again. "One look inside this box, and he’ll never bother you again." She glanced at the package, and seemed to understand immediately.
"Oh, Percy," she said, stepping away. "You can’t."
"Poseidon called you a queen," I told her, ignoring the strong feelings that came from his confession. "He said he hadn’t met a woman like you in a thousand years."
Her cheeks flushed, Harry rolled his green eyes, muttering about too much information. "Percy –"
"You deserve better than this, Mom. You should go to college, get your degree. You can write your novel, meet a nice guy maybe, live in a nice house. You don’t need to protect me any more by staying with Gabe. Let us get rid of him."
She wiped a tear off her cheek. "You sound so much like your father," she said. "He offered to stop the tide for me once. He offered to build me a palace at the bottom of the sea. He thought he could solve all my problems with a wave of his hand."
"What’s wrong with that?" Her multicoloured eyes seemed to search inside me. "I think you know, Percy. I think you’re enough like me to understand. If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself. I can’t let a god take care of me… or my daughter. I have to… find the courage on my own. Your quest has reminded me of that." We listened to the sound of poker chips, swearing and ESPN from the living-room television.
"I’ll give the box to you," I said. "you know what to do…"
She looked pale, but she nodded. "Where will you go, Percy?"
"Half-Blood Hill."
"For the summer… or forever?"
"I guess that depends."
Harry shuffled, my eyes turned to him, "you can visit. Both of you, if you have time."
"They allow that? Aren't I a mortal as well?"
"So long as you have permission."
"Alright." He said, smiling softly, he wasn't easy to cry about something, but tears formed at the corner of his eyes. "But you should still visit."
"I will."
"We'll help you pack."
"Absolutely."
Harry nodded, content. We locked eyes, and I sensed that we had an agreement. We would see how things stood at the end of the summer. She kissed my forehead. "You’ll be a hero, Percy. You’ll be the greatest of all."
"So are you."
Harry nodded his head agreeably. "Better than any male hero could ever be."
My mom smiled at the both of us, feeling thankful for our proclamation.
They packed my essentials, with Harry promising to send me gifts every now and then. A real milk tea and some real noodles this time. I took one last look around my bedroom. I had a feeling I’d never see it again. Then I walked with my familia to the front door.
"Leaving so soon, punk?" Gabe called after me. "Good riddance."
I had one last twinge of doubt. How could I turn down the perfect chance to take revenge on him? I was leaving here without saving my mother.
"Hey, Sally!" he barked, spit everywhere. "What about that meat loaf, huh?" A steely look of anger flared in my mother’s eyes, and I thought, just maybe, I was leaving her in good hands after all. Her own.
"The meat loaf is coming right up, dear," she told Gabe. "Meat loaf surprise. Lots of meat loaf!" She looked at us and winked.
My brother looked more chipper than before, he took my hand and swung it back and forth, waiting patiently. I joined him, even humming 'if you're happy and you know it' as background.
The last thing we saw as the door swung closed was my mother staring at Gabe, as if she were contemplating how he would look as a garden statue.
When I returned to the apartment, the smell of the sea and bird filled my living room. From then on, we were protected.
Camp was fucking nice. It's something that will never ever change for me, a second home of sorts that will last forever than I would.
My eyes squinted, checking if there were new campers or faces I haven't met yet before going to the quest, I needed to get near to see but now I can manage, a few distances away.
It was something me and my family noticed. I had better senses than before, more in my sight and instincts. Sometimes, if I concentrate enough, I can feel the vapors in air shift because of people.
I couldn't have known of this if it we're for my mother sitting me down and Harry taking down notes as if I was being diagnosed by a very rare disease.
They couldn't help but notice when I yelled while taking a bath about how Harry should stop hovering near the bathroom door because I was nearly done taking a bath and he didn't need to worry anyway even though I didn't know that he was there. At first, I dismissed it as my Empathos.
After that, somehow, I knew who cooked our dinner badly while I was making my own island maps in my room—which was far from the kitchen. I was heavily distracted back then and Empathos required focus when I need to zero in and register who was who from far away.
God's, even smell, because somehow I can still smell the stench of Gabe that stayed for nearly many days that turned into a few weeks. I had told mom all the time that Gabe's stench was still there for the past few weeks even if she and Harry had denied at first but followed my instincts. They both helped me make some perfumes that lasted longer than when I first made some.
After that, they couldn't ignore it any longer.
My senses must've gone stronger or sensitive—at least according to Harry.
Trudging down the big house, I saw Annabeth.
Annabeth was in my sight, but she hadn't noticed it yet while she passionately argued with another camper about a hot topic that would no doubt be made into a cabin rivalry that could only end after a few prank wars and Capture the Flag that escalated from coloring each other's cabin wrong to having grass be one of the reason to have more nightmares.
Looking at her reminded me of what happened.
It reminded me of Luke's betrayal.
It reminded me about how the camp took it.
Annabeth went to me the moment she took in the sight of me, as if I was a mirage and not the real deal. She ran to me as the argument receded to one-sided.
She was relieved at the sight of me, that much was given when she was within range. Her emotions swelled, there were so many that it jumbled up.
"Annabeth," I acknowledged, hands clasping hers. She didn't deny my hold. "How have you been?"
"Not well."
"I can tell." I answered, "I still wanted to ask." I added hastily.
"How... Uh, how is camp?"
"No one took it well," Annabeth explained, immediately knowing what I was referring to, "Luke is—was," her eyes watered and she had to blink her tears away, "our everything. Most campers looked up to him."
She faltered in what she was about to say, "some—some followed him...."
I blinked, merely taking in the betrayal.
But these were children. These were children.
I cannot find it in myself to blame them.
"Hermes cabin didn't believe it at first, just that he disappeared." She explained further, "but, uh, Grover told them about the shoes. How it could've dragged him to hell had you not taken it."
My breath hitched.
She cleared her throat, "after that, I explained about the expansion of cabins—that they didn't believe more, so I told them to wait for your explanation."
"Why didn't you just explain it yourself?" My face scrunched up from confusion.
"I figured it'd be better if you explained it." Annabeth explained, "I'll just fill in if things get too much for you."
"Oh," I said, blinking, "thanks but doing this makes things feel presumptuous, you know?" I made some panicky movements with my hand, gladly moving on from the previous topic.
"I don't want to make it sound like they owe me or something or sound like declamatory leader slash brat."
Annabeth clicked her tongue, and I felt she was glad and pissed off as well, "first of three reasons—"
"Wow, okay."
She ignored me, "you aren't a brat—you don't sound like one either. Additional reason, you have a much too low deprecating self-esteem for that—"
"What the fuck did Grover tell you."
"—second is that, no matter what, people will think of it that way. You can't exactly do anything about that."
"Actually—"
"No. Third reason—" she continued, "is that, the whole camp does actually owe you. Preparation for war is one thing, providing a comfortable home to children is another."
"Huh." I said to her and myself. At least I was good for something other than bringing general bad luck all around.
"Also, you can't change how someone thinks. Only influence them through emotions or feelings." She answered, in a matter of fact tone. "Must be hormone slash pheromone thing."
"What did you just say." I gaped at her, hundreds of love stories I heard from Harry crossing my mind. My face turned red at the one time Harry read out loud what he shouldn't have.
"There's gotta be science." She said, "hormones significantly affect emotions—Lee told me, I wonder if it's what you're really affecting or just seriously magic after all. Can you make boys feel pregnant because if you can—"
"Annabeth," my face brightened to a dangerous high degree.
"—though I wonder if you can do what Pamela Isley used to experiment, I think she makes plants do things in a chemically induced way, right? Isn't that what it's called? Pheromones—"
"Annabeth," I said, beet red, "I am not a fucking termite." I managed to say, Harry said had once that "Pheromones are chemicals used in the same species to communicate and mate—"
"Does this mean you can do it?"
"No." I denied softly, "I sure fucking hope I never can. I don't want to accidentally send a mate signal to a fucking wasp."
The nightmares I still have about those insects were fresh, mind you.
I don't want bees to think I'm their queen or something, though, that way at least I could command them to help with Demeter cabin and maybe also provide honey in the camp business?
Speaking of business, "are you sure I should talk to the camp about this?"
"I think we should go."
We both cursed and ran for the cabins, alerted at the fact that we're late. My mind took a retract about one detail, "Pamela Isley? You know her?" Harry had gushed so much about her one time and fell in love right of the bat from what I heard from him.
A doctor that understood the feelings of plants and supports activism in its entirety? What's not to love? Too bad she's dead.
Annabeth face scrunched up at the mention, "pretty sure Demeter Cabin and the Satyrs are making an altar for her?"
"Why didn't I know of that yet?" I gasped out loud.
"They just found out about her, actually."
I nodded, "makes sense."
If they'd actually known about her, she'd join the other altars that filled one side of the Demeter cabin. Very much dedicated to people who loved nature.
They also had the flag of Wakanda that was set up beside a bookshelf (a note I didn't notice the first few times I went there) because Wakanda was known for being eco-friendly regardless of their advanced technology.
We ended up where we were needed.
"Basically, a Boule, right?"
Annabeth paused, as if taken aback by my knowledge before nodding. Not surprising, when I first heard of the word when Harry recited the words, I thought Ancient Greeks did Balls.
We entered the meeting with little fanfare. My breath hitched at the sight of the new Head Cabin Counselor of Hermes cabin, my gaze must've stayed too long because Annabeth pulled me along and coughed. "She's here."
"I can see that."
Annabeth glared at Clarisse. She nudged me to the front, putting me on the spotlight.
"So, prissy." Clarisse indicated to me, "talk."
I didn't talk per se, I rambled half the time while Chiron translated and I answered the head counselor's questions on how to defeat certain monsters—giving them particular codenames (Mrs. Dodds, Mrs. Didds, and Mrs. Dedds for the Erinyes, Satan's ugly twin for the Minotaur and so on and so forth). That also included gods I met ('Goth is not emo but it possibly is' for Charon, 'M n' M's' for Ares—meaning manslaughter and mansplained, etc)
Mr. D snorted at my explanation of how I got nearly all Olympains to agree with me. Muttering about favoritism.
You're like, the baby brother but you're still not the favorite anyway. I thought in my head, knowing damn well he could read my mind.
He gave me scathing glance before taking another sip of his Diet Coke.
"You persuaded them," Silena's squinted at me, "by asking them?" It was clear I need to lie with my words better.
"I asked nicely," was the bullshit I gave, deadpanned and without skipping a heartbeat.
"By your definition of nice, you threatened them, right?"
"I asked for it. They asked for it." I shrugged.
"Can't blame them!" Lee Fletcher, head counselor of Apollo cabin, exclaimed jovially. "You have great negotiation skills!"
Great negotiation skills I've only used once, my mind supplied, that lie was better than the truth. Dionysus smirked at me while I pursed my lips to prevent myself from a sad smile. "So," I tentatively said, after a few rounds of chuckles, "any questions?"
"Nope!" Were the common answers, each tone happy from the news. "Only notes!" One of the Stoll brothers exclaimed.
"Remind me to have more deals with you."
"No." Annabeth sighed.
"You already have good connections with Lou Ellen because of me," I said but mentally reminding myself to join in their fun.
Based on their interactions, the Stoll brothers adore Lou Ellen.
The Boule continued with a few more talks, especially about the war (somehow, we forgot the most important part) and how they'd redesign the cabins, even the shitty bathroom. Clarisse and Annabeth took turns when ranting about strategic planning. They talked back and forth, completing each other's sentences while we watched like it was a ping pong match—funny considering there's a ping pong table in front of us.
Silena gave them both looks, "they sound like they're summoning the devil with the words they use."
What an articulate way to say we barely understood what they're saying.
After a few moments, the talk about the cabins finally came through.
Mentioning architecture stopped the war plans so easily because of how Annabeth was eagerly rambling about it. Even Clarisse was chastised into shutting up. I couldn't forget how Annabeth's eyes sparkled at that particular topic. She was physically vibrating and slapping the table, making exclamations as she gained a new idea after another. It was kinda funny because it was scaring the others. It was also funny because instead of lightbulbs going off of her, it was exclamation marks.
"What the fuck...." Travis said.
Katie scowled at him, "don't talk like that when you ranted to our taxi on the way here about how much unreal the economics of the world is while high on weeds!"
I raised a brow, Annabeth didn't stop talking, Dionysus snorted to his Diet Coke and Chiron sighed in the sidelines.
"'We should should start with burning down banks.' my ass!" She hissed. We ignored that in favor of listening to Annabeth instead.
"Those were your weeds!" Travis cried.
"That you stole." Katie snapped back. "We don't need most organizations coming for us—"
"Most?" Silena muttered for everyone, "you mean to tell me S.H.I.E.L.D and Hydra are not the only organizations we are involved with?"
"What the fuck do you mean?" I deadpanned.
"Currently, S.H.I.E.L.D and Hydra is a little bit suspicious of us. We have some spies around the camp that's going in and out their cots."
I shifted uncomfortably, "but our oldest is 17?" Eta and Roxanne were the few of the oldest in the camp.
These agencies don't accept children, do they?
"Who am I kidding," I said with horror. "This is the UN and Nazi we're talking about."
Most nodded while some still managed to listen to Annabeth's plans.
"—and that's why we should add that instead!" Annabeth said, breathlessly. Eyes sparkling before heaving a little bit then—
"Anything else?" She asked.
"Nadda."
"Uhm," Lee raised his hand, "I think we should really, really learn more than basic first aid kit." He swished his hand, "our cabin isn't exactly full of medics."
"It's a good opportunity to learn magic then," my mouth quirked up. Happy at the thought.
"Woah," Connor said, "I thought only Hecate's children can do that?"
"There are many types of magic out there." I said, "some require the divinity only and that's enough."
The spells I was talking about were from basic to basic spells. Most demigods probably have designated magic (magic in which they're compatible with, healing magic and water magic for example).
"It's advanced for Hecate's children because they are magic in itself." I explained, "while others can do magic related to their parents." Though, it's sad that if one of the unclaimed learned magic related to their parents and they know who their parents are yet still live unclaimed.
"Who knows? One of us might be a wizard or a witch." If they were ordinary people, the magic might not work but it was demigods performing it in our case.
All of them stared at me, "pardon?" They said, simultaneously. Beside me, Annabeth groaned from annoyance at the lack of knowledge she had.
"Wizards and witches exist in Europe."
"Wow." Most said. "Moving on!" All declared.
I snorted, that was quick. "How should I explain this? Hm." I stared at the sky, regretting the action, I stared at the ground. "Not all demigods can do magic, per se—hah, 'per-se'—"
Most of them cracked up on joke while Annabeth muttered, "close enough." Dionysus was currently sleeping and snoring away.
"What I was saying is that, not all demigods can do magic, per se, they can do what the Europeans can do but not exactly. See, European magic is kind of weaker than others—"
"There are others?" Silena said to her mounting shock and annoyance.
"—but I'm not saying our magic is weak. It kinda works on energy, we have plenty of that from our version of energy from divine blood, the Europeans have that but not divinity. Which makes them automatically weaker," I explained, "get it?" I was bad at explaining things.
"A little bit."
"Bother Lou after this," I advised, sagely. I was a shit explainer and Annabeth wasn't well versed in the topic. Which she hated, at the very moment.
"Oh, most definitely."
"Our magic is kind of, chosen already. That's why I said, the magic we might do is related to our parents, rarely it isn't." I said.
"So if an Ares kid has potential to do magic," Clarisse said, fianlly getting it, "they can be more proficient with attack spells like those voodoer's but much more powerful than them?"
Annabeth was nodding of to the side, taking mental notes one after the other. No doubt adding many more plans.
"Precisely." I agreed, "I know it sounds like the usual stuff but it isn't. Magic has varieties, it won't just focus on one thing—but that doesn't mean we're gonna be much more powerful than Hecate's children."
"Jack of all trades," Travis hummed.
"Master of none," me and Connor agreed.
"Okay," Clarisse nodded to herself, "at least we're exhausting every man power we have imaginable."
"We must." Chiron scratched his beard. "We need to do everything we can."
Both Annabeth and Clarisse nodded.
"This is it, huh," Silena said. "When is this war going to happen?"
"I'm afraid," Chiron's eyes was sad, I know I said I hate sad eyes but I didn't mean it when it comes to the people I love, "that it will happen the moment Percy nears her 16th birthday."
Everyone's heads snapped up to me. Even Annabeth, her shock was no longer a rarity. My mouth quivered and I only huffed slowly in confirmation that I knew that the war somehow involved me greatly but What the Fuck. 16?
I shuddered; I keep dragging down people with me that it's—
My eyes shut hard. It's—
"Okay," Annabeth said, evenly. "Can you tell us more?"
"I'm sorry my child, but I can't." Chiron grimaced, I looked up the sky, expecting rolling thunder and whatnot. "I cannot tell you more than that, I'm sorry."
"It's alright," I bowed my head a little bit. "I can manage with that."
We left the Boule in silence. Most Head Cabin Counselor kept shooting me looks that I returned with a reassuring nod but I was dying inside. I want to kill myself, this is beyond—just ugh. Very big fucking ugh.
"Percy," a voice called out. My nose and ears twitched. Recognizing that witty and soothing voice.
I turned around.
"We need to talk about something very important," Stiles immediately said. "Hi and welcome back, by the way! How are your bones?"
"You want me to make a better relationship with the gods," I stared at Stiles, stunned.
"They need some people to talk to." Stiles answered. "Not exactly a better relationship, we just need to convince them to do better?"
Ah. I thought, Stiles was kinder than me.
"You want me to..."
Stiles nodded, "I just want all of this to stop, Percy." He snapped his fingers as if remembering something before adding some sort of powder to a plant—bone meal, "I get the need to be cautious, I get your bitterness, I get your anger." He spreaded the bone meal evenly.
"But sometimes our family holds grudges to a higher degree than actually swallowing their pride." Though his voice was gentle, his eyes darkened. For a moment, the smell of pomegranates filled the air.
"Not just that," he added, "not just pride. Even indifference. The detachment."
"Still." My voice was steady, but I couldn't help the doubt in my chest, "you're asking me to...." I couldn't even speak. It's not like I told anyone outside my quest mates the reason why I avoided the Olympian gods—the mere mention of them made me nearly burst into angry tears and having thoughts about killing myself. Hold fast, I told myself.
Though, their obsession with me was extreme. I guess one could think of is as pathetic and pitying. It's a rude thing to say but it was true for me. Their own mother was lost to them, there but not there, her traces were everywhere but she wasn't the real thing. She was just lost, gone. To be precise, she left them.
Why? I thought, why abandon your own children? Or is not just your children but your family in it's entirety.
Perhaps she just wanted to find herself. Perhaps she was tired, same as I.
Some part of me wanted to continue blaming her but another part of me understood her. Still. Understanding her or blaming her, it doesn't make things any easier for me.
"You're humanizing the gods." I finally said after a few moments of silence, "the divine."
"Maybe human is divine." Stiles eyes glinted, "they just haven't realized yet."
He held my hand, it was a touch lovely as the spring, "I am not asking you to do this."
I stared at him, after all that convincing?
"I'm just—" he paused, "I worry. For all of us. I don't want you to fix everything. I just want you to make them see, their pride cost you a lot this moment."
Family, I crooned, he still thinks of us as family.
"I know I probably sound foolish," Stiles stopped looking at me in the eye, "I still think this family has a chance, I still think things could be better. I know. I know there's hope."
He really has soft blue eyes, I thought.
"I just wish we'd see beyond things you know? Get pass those feelings and actually, genuinely talked." He didn't look me in the eyes but settled on sliding his hands up on down my arms as if it keep himself steady. "We can't all be happy, but that shouldn't stop us. They all have the power to but they don't want to reach out."
I hummed, "I actually thought the same."
Stiles eyes looked happy.
"You know, I actually acknowledge it all the time—"
"I've noticed." Stiles murmured quietly, not interrupting.
"Uncle Z, Uncle H, father, cousin, grandfather—" I breathed deeply, "but I just get so angry—they call each other that all the time but they don't feel it. They have children that they need support from, but they can't support."
If I talked even more, my tears would come but I braved on.
"But I feel so sad at the same time, 'do they not feel the same, truly?' then it would go to, 'or do they not know how to feel? What they feel?' after all, they're gods, they're detached and with a different upbringing. All their life, it's like that and it must have made them like that—"
I steadied myself, "but it comes back, the anger and sadness that they bring us."
Stiles held me, "exactly," he agreed. "I'm sorry if I overwhelmed you."
"No," I hugged him, "this is it. This is our chance. My power has the chance to fix things. We need to end this, this.... suffering that's affecting us all."
Each demigod at least had the thought, to die very old. Being young was just suffering, being old meant others had the chance to do the same.
To save an unhealthy plant, first look at its roots, was the main advice in Demeter cabin. From the looks of it, we both thought the same.
"No," Stiles agreed. "I think from the start, you didn't just want to do that at all."
"Yes," I said, blinking away the tears. "This is good, we could do many things."
My face scrunched, "but we have to do communications." I suck at that, I'll say what I have to say and that's the worse thing to prideful gods.
Stiles laughed at my face, "maybe you should bring trinkets."
"Trinkets?" I questioned but ultimately agreed mentally, that would be a good start. Food? No, they'd probably prefer the fruit or plant related to them, I thought, trinkets, small jewelries, necklace made from beads like camp to keep up the tradition, bracelets, anklets, arm braces, leg braces, chokers? Probably not. I don't think those were enough but seeing the way we offer food to them.
"Mhm," he confirmed.
A little bit of silence.....
"You talked to Lou Ellen about this didn't you." I sniffed the air, so that's what magic smells like.
"You're not the only one she'd experimented on."
"Right." Then he must know what power I was talking about.
I pursed my lips, "you know I wanted to be cruel to them." I admitted, bitterly and truthfully. "I want to blame them, wholly, for this mess. I blamed them for Thalia, I blamed them for the mess of a quest. I blamed them. All of them." The last part was a whisper. "I just wanted to let them know about war, then be detached. Because, you know? Just fuck them all." I blinked, swallowing.
Stiles nodded, not offering more to say.
"But I can't avoid them." I whispered, "I can't avoid them because I'm not the type to ignore problems."
Not when they're not just the problems itself but made problems as well. My eyes hardened, "I'll do it." I decided, "I don't want to get attached in anyway possible, I'll fix things... but not our relationship. Besides, I don't want to get attached." I shuddered.
"Yeah," Stiles huffed, smiling at me brightly. "I get that."
He tilted his eyes at me, for a moment, the shade of blue disappeared, "just so you know, you're not cruel for that." He hummed, "that's being human. Empathos or not, it's valid to feel that way."
I nodded, humming the agreement with a shrug.
Then—
A moment that should have transcended to peace—
Then—
SCREAMS
Screaming.
Of help.
I felt the terror from yards away. The emotion was strong, so I felt it immediately. It was a feeling that I could never forget.
"Percy!" A camper called out to me. "Silas! E-Eta!" They cried, "there's—t-there's monsters—!" They—she heaved as she neared me but before she could reach me we've already set upon the hill.
As I passed her, I couldn't help but smell the tang of iron and something that nearly burned my nose—what the hell was that.
I recoiled while I ran, very noticeable to Stiles.
"Percy?"
"Smells bad," I grunted, it was the same smell that I had tried to forget, "felt really bad as well."
"Mormo!" Someone screamed.
"Mormon?" I questioned.
"I'd deal with those religious people every day than whatever the hell that thing is!"
A couple of campers ran past us, each campers carrying another camper that was screaming so painfully that it must've tugged their larynxes. They were screaming about their fears, something so evident I tasted it in the air and felt their trauma to my soul.
We finally reached a place near the hill.
To my absolute mounting horror that threatened to spill over messily, Gabe appeared in my sight.
Gabe, for some reason, was comparably and extremely larger than the Gabe I know—which made me pale in turn. His eyes were white; his mouth was agape and snarling and choking on overflowing black blood.
I have always hated his figure, how he was larger than me. Larger and towering than mom and Harry. His figure was one of the reasons why I hadn't done anything drastic to him yet. It's what nearly r—hurt my brother. It's what nearly killed me.
That's not Gabe. That's not Gabe.
No.
Please no.
Mom—
A bottle breaking.
Harry's sobs.
"Water...."
Mama!
"GRUGHAGGGGGHHHHHHH!" I shuddered, faltering mid run, it sounded like he was choking on spit while gurgling the black blood that nearly swallowed someone in half.
Stiles tripped, terror seemed to grip him. "N-no!" He whimpered, "not you, gods, please—it's not it. It's not—"
I couldn't even breathe.
He's supposed to be dead.
Dead. He's supposed to be—
I choked on air, teared up and nearly frothed at the mouth from Gabe—his scent, his size, his disdain
It—
It's—
I can't. No. No.
That smell.
That smell I had to make my own perfumes over.
The same smell that overpowered my mother's lovely scent.
The same smell that never gave me a breather even if I wasn't near him.
The smell that made me have a distinct disdain for garbage.
Black blood scattered everywhere, like Gabe was but a rabid and hungry dog.
No.
I gasped. No, no—
I tried not to wretch, but my stomach squirmed at the sight of him.
Disgusting.
"Please!" A camper, a child, shrieked and whimpered.
In Gabe's hands was a child.
A child.
Why are children always the first victim of adults?
"Mommy!" The child sobbed, to say my stomach sunk was an understatement, "I won't do it again—please, please—! Mommy!"
The painful sobs of the child took my attention immediately, not just snapping my gaze but a deep urge within me. The same urge that I had over my family.
I growled, letting anger take over me, I snatched Plunderer from my necklace before racing up to the monster.
Making you a statue wasn't enough!
"Everybody getaway!" I signaled, "GET THE WOUNDED, GET THE OTHERS AND GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HERE AS FAR AS POSSIBLE! NOW! YOU! STAY!" I pointed at Micheal Yew.
My voice carried over everyone, they immediately did as told and never looked back.
I raised my hands, and a root shoot up, holding Gabe back from swallowing a child.
Save him.
Save that child.
Gabe is mine to handle.
I am his to harm .
Anyone but my family.
"Shoot!"
Micheal hit the bullseye, the pain inflicted on Gabe's hand made him drop the child. My roots shoot out, but it was too late to save him from falling.
The child yelped from pain but stood up immediately and ran to Michaels side.
"YOU HEAPING MOUNTAIN OF POLLUTION!" I screamed with all my might, the sea seethed from my anger that I was pretty sure it boiled monstrously, "GO. TO. HELL."
I screamed and stabbed the floor. Willing thousands and thousands of the strong roots from the woods to restrict him to my will.
"GAGGGAGGGGAGH." Gabe yelled angrily.
Hold him down, I thought
Channel it.
Hail Percy Jackson, Daughter of Poseidon the...... Earthshaker.
CRACK! Screamed the ground. So that's what an earthquake sounded like.
CRICK! CRACK!
Little by little the ground cracked.
Little by little the ground separated.
Little by little the ground fell and swallowed Gabe right with it.
"No!" The kid, a young boy, screamed, "not my mommy! No! No!"
"Don't look at it!" Micheal ordered the child, holding him down. Even if his voice sounded pained and raw from sobbing, he held the child down with all his might.
Gabe roared and shrieked and yelled, searing his painful voice into our ears and minds. He left so much bloody spit in his wake. He fell to the burning depths of the earth, and I hoped I never meet him again.
But things weren't done. Slowly, something trickled from my eyes. It wasn't tears but it was close enough. Ichor covered my eyesight.
I collapsed to the floor. I heaved and breathed, at least I tried to. Only a choke left me from the effort of breathing.
What—
What's—
......going on?
My chest burned, golden rays of light phased through my chest.
I punched my chest; I grasped my throat like I was trying to tear it down. My nails scratched down hard that I tore off flesh, but my body persisted in healing and destructing in one small body.
Nothing worked, nothing—
Gold spots danced in my vision. I could not see anything. It was my face I scratched to Hades next. I was withering and twisting in the ground, my hand went to my eyes and planned to pull my eyeballs off to weather the pain. I can still live without seeing, right? Surely it would throw off my powers, right?
I couldn't take the pain.
I collapsed on the ground. I writhed in pain for minutes? Hours?
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
I was dying.
It was a stupid way to die.
...
It's what every demigod gets.
No—
My promise to mom. My promise to Harry. My promise to everyone I held in my heart.
No—
No—
I heaved and coughed.
I writhed in the ground for long.
I didn't make any sounds except choking.
But I was screaming. Silently so. It was good, that meant no one would come to help. A distance from me was safe.
I inhaled sharply, I felt so hot—
Like I was burning up. Like I'll explode.
No, no—NO!
NOT HERE.
I CAN'T DIE HERE.
Not in this camp.
No!
I stood up.
I fell down anyway.
"No...!" I sobbed and crawled. It was the only thing I could say. It was the only thing I could do. My throat was healed but the power I used didn't make up for the minor injuries I made to myself.
"—lease......
"—o..... go's—not 'ere—not here......!"
I pulled myself. I pulled at the grass.
Anything—
A part of me ignited.
My chest ached and burned. If I had the strength, I would scratch my skin away and tear out my lungs to ease the scalding pain.
I need to—
Anything—
Just—!
To get myself away from here.
"Percy!" A voice yelled, "Mau! Go get the others now!"
"Have to—go...." I coughed to Micheal (?), "you haftahhhhh runn....." I slurred.
"Please," I begged, get away from me. Save yourself.
I tugged his hand away even if it's the only thing anchoring me at the moment. I can't see—
I can't see anyone at all—
Mama!
Mom!
Harry, I—!
Then air was blocked.
I couldn't see.
Gods—
I can't even breathe—
"Percy!" Another voice, shrieked, "Stab her! Just stab her! Hurt her! Badly!"
"But—!" Michael's voice sounded wrecked.
"—just do it—!"
"Faster—!"
"I can't do this—!"
"Lee!"
"—pleasepleaseplease—"
"Can you—!?"
"I can't—! I can't—!"
My head was on a lap. Someone was caressing my anguished tears away as if I didn't just doom them.
Micheal released an anguish screamed—an ugly sound of twisting bones, someone cradled my head while another twisted my leg.
My eyes fluttered shut.
Will killing me make it stop?
Is it selfish to ask for that?
Finally. It stopped.
...
It stopped. My he—
I heaved weakly.
"Percy?" Someone asked, "no— don't close your eyes."
"Let her," another urged, "it's better that way."
Sleep took me away.
The only reprieve I had.
"But..." A voice denied.
"—her heart! I can't feel her heart!"