Chapter Text
The smell of waffles wafted into the cluttered kitchen, blue breakfast food being placed on the oak wood table. The plate thunked as it was set down, and Percy stared at the meal with a strange sense of foreboding.
Their apartment was a cozy little place that felt a lot bigger without a certain sleazy poker player. It was cold outside in the early morning but warm within their walls, busy city noises being blocked out by the sound of the frying pan and clattering of silverware. He picked up his fork, holding it in his hand, and poked at his waffle.
Sally pulled out the chair across from him at their quaint dinner table, and he flinched at the squeaking its legs made as they raked the floor. His mom smiled at him brightly, and he aimed a ghost of the grin back at her before turning back to his food.
Percy stabbed the waffle with the side of his fork, cutting through the blue food and impaling it with his silverware. He brought it to his mouth, closing his lips tightly around the fork and pulling it out slowly. He chewed at a snail's pace, not so much to savor but to try and get lost in the buttery taste, but against his tongue it felt more like sandpaper.
Sally frowned at him. "Percy, are you alright?" He put down his fork, grabbing for the glass of fresh orange juice at his side, and he took a gulp of the sour drink.
It washed the traces of waffle from his mouth and clawed down his throat. Percy wrinkled his nose, letting the glass set back on the table top. "Yeah," he finally answered. "I'm fine."
She raised an eyebrow. "School, or..." She didn't need to finish. Percy knew what his mom was thinking.
He gave a small shrug. "I think Grover's in trouble." Percy tapped his hand against his thighs, feeling the fabric of his jeans against the tips of his fingers. "I had this dream last night."
Sally pursed her lips. He knew that his mom didn't like talking about his "other life," but he also knew she would break their illusion of normalcy for his satyr friend.
"I wouldn't be too worried," she consoled. "If there was a problem, I'm sure we would've heard from camp." She faltered at the last word, and he narrowed his eyes.
"What is it?" She shook her head, the top of her brown hair catching the light of their overhead lamp and making it shine like a halo.
"Nothing," she promised. He sighed, pushing away his plate, and she looked at him sadly. "I'll tell you what. This afternoon, we'll celebrate the end of school. I'll take you and Tyson to Rockefeller Center."
He perked up slightly at the sound of his favorite skateboard shop, and being able to put a grin on his school friend's face was tempting. Even so, something about the offer bothered him.
"Wait," Percy said. "I thought we were packing me up for camp tonight." She finished the last of her waffles, standing to put away their dishes, and he watched her with confused eyes colored like his father's domain.
His mom set their plates in the sink, turning towards him and leaning her back against the counter. "About that," she fidgeted. "I got a message from Chiron last night."
He blinked. "What did he say?" She crossed her arms, large sweater setting over her willowy form.
"He thinks that it might not be safe for you to come to camp just yet," Sally told her son. "We might have to postpone."
Percy felt a wave of fear clamber up in his chest and wrap around his heart. It was gone the instant it came, instinct coming in to calm him down. He needed a solution, not stress.
"Postpone?" He repeated. "Why wouldn't it be safe? Mom, I'm a half-blood. It's the only safe place on Earth for me."
"Usually, dear. But with the problems their having-"
His composure melted away. "Problems? What problems?"
"Percy..." He settled down, hands clenched into tight fists. He had been waiting to leave for too long, feeling all too much like a duck sitting in a pond of false tranquility. "I'm very, very sorry."
"About what?" His mouth felt dry. "Sorry about what?"
"I was hoping to talk to you about it this afternoon," she continued. "I can't explain it all now. I'm not even sure Chiron can. Everything happened so suddenly."
Percy's mind was reeling. What had happened? How could he not go to camp? The teenager had about a million questions to ask but their clock decided to chime in at the half hour, biding them to hurry.
Sally looked relieved. "Seven-thirty, dear. You should go. Tyson will be waiting." He made to object but she cut him off. "Percy, we'll talk this afternoon. Go on to school."
He wanted to push, but he saw the fragile look in his mother's eyes, like her insides had turned to glass that might shatter all too easily. And she was right about one thing, after all. He couldn't keep Tyson waiting. His friend was scared of traveling underground alone.
Percy gathered up his things, stopping at the doorway. "Mom, this problem at camp," he said. "Does it have anything to do with my dream? About Grover?"
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "We'll talk this afternoon. I'll explain as much as I can." He nodded, giving her a reluctant goodbye and a kiss on her cheek before heading out. He jogged downstairs, rushing to catch the Number Two train.
As he stepped outside, he glanced at the brownstone building across the street. It was another dark hue against the ashy skies, but for a second, he thought he saw a dark shape in the hazy sun; a human silhouette against the wall, a shadow that belonged to no one.
It only rippled and vanished, leaving him even more alone.
Meriwether College Prep was a progressive school tucked away in downtown Manhattan. It was the kind of school where kids sat around in bean bags instead of chairs and the teachers never gave out grades. The laid-back style suited him well enough, and he never minded going.
Percy didn't know if that same mindset had come with him today. He stuck close to his friend on the large break ground, swinging back and forth on a hanging tire while Tyson glanced nervously around. The guy was huge, taller than any of the adults, and he had a kind of face Percy could never truly meet.
The tire creaked as he put his weight on it, and he dug his heels into the chips of wood, slowing the motion. Tyson looked at him curiously. "You okay?"
He opened his mouth to answer, interrupted swiftly. The school bully had managed to sneak up on his friend, and Tyson screamed, swatting him away with in surprise. He put a bit too much strength in the defense and sent the bully flying, landing on his backside several feet away.
"You freak!" He yelled, face red with embarrassing and anger. "Go back to your cardboard box!"
Percy flinched. Tyson lived in a cardboard refrigerator box off 72nd street, adapted by the school as a community service project to make students feel good about them themselves. Despite his massive size and scary looks he was a big softie, and the kids liked to use that to their advantage.
Tyson's chin trembled. "Take it back, Sloan!" Percy snarled. The kid just sneered.
"Why do you even bother, Jackson?" Sloan got to his feet, and Tyson backed away from the tire set as the bully approached. "You might have friends if you weren't always sticking up for that freak."
Percy balled his fists, glaring up at Sloan from where he sat. "He's not a freak. He's just-" he faltered, the bully only laughing. His friends at the sidelines joined in, and it was almost like he had twice as many of the large guys chiming in. Percy huffed at the commotion.
"Just wait till later, Jackson," Sloan smirked. "You're so dead."He went to join his cronies, flipping the teen off as he went, and Percy resisted the urge to stick Anaklusmos through his chest.
Percy abandoned his tire, heading to his sobbing friend. He had to reach up on the tip of his toes to pat Tyson on the back, but it seemed to slow the tears. He sniffled.
"I am... I am a freak?" Percy shook his head.
"No," he promised, gritting his teeth. "Matt Sloan is the freak."
Tyson trembled. "You are a good friend. Miss you next year, if I, if I can't-" he choked on his tears. Percy frowned. The school hasn't decided whether he would be invited back next year for the project. He didn't know what Tyson would do alone.
"Don't worry, big guy," Percy comforted. "Everything's going to be fine." The grateful look Tyson gave him only made him feel worse.
Percy sighed. The sound went unnoticed in the loud buzz in his history class, talking filling up the study session. Books filled the surrounded shelves, windows blocked by flowing curtains and leaving the inside fairly dark. It smelled liked dusty papers and whiteboard markers, teacher at the front too engrossed in her book to shush her class.
The demigod fiddled with his pencil, twirling the object between his fingers. His textbook laid open in front of him, flipped to some random page, but his dyslexia scrambled up the letters and gave him a headache at every paragraph. Percy exhaled through his nose, giving up on the worksheet for a while.
He opened his binder, shuffling through the papers and dumping them on one side. Percy looked at the picture taped to the inside of his folder. It was a photo of Annabeth, blonde hair tucked into a bandana as she posed in front of the Lincoln Memorial like she had designed it herself. He allowed himself a small grin, and it felt almost alien on his face.
The daughter of Athena had emailed the picture to him after spring break and he had kept it to remind himself of what he was coming back to. She had offered to send him some pictures of Luke but he had refused the offer. He wasn't sure he was ready to see those blue eyes again, even if they were behind a camera.
Percy wished Annabeth was here. She would know what to make of his dreams, would know how to help him. He made to close his binder, yelping when a pair of greedy hands reached out and tore the photograph from where it was. He snapped his neck up, Matt Sloan's mischievous eyes glimmering at him.
"Hey!" Percy protested. Sloan checked out the slip of paper, eyes widening.
"Woah, Jackson," he whistled. "This your girlfriend? She's hot." He blushed furiously.
"It's not like that!" He shouted. "Just give it back!" Sloan chuckled, handing it over to his cronies, and they started to tear it apart. Percy's heart lurched.
"Stop!" He stood, lunging forward, but there was nothing to grab. Matt tripped him and he fell to the ground, slamming against the rough floor. Due to his desk being in the very back their teacher didn't even look up, and he knew he was alone on this.
He got to his feet, leaning his hand against his desk for support, and Sloan merely watched. "See my new friends?" The bully asked, gesturing to the group of new kids. "They're moving here next year. I bet they can pay the tuition, too, unlike your retard friend."
"He's not retarded," Percy grunted out, seething. He almost thought he heard thunder outside, but if lightning had flashed through the skies outside, the curtains obscured the sight.
Sloan rolled his eyes. "You're such a loser, Jackson," he taunted. "Good thing I'm gonna put you outta your misery next period."
Percy growled, and the floor shook as he stood. Sloan and his buddies were saved by the bell as it rang, noise echoing through the halls. The bully ruffled his hair as he passed out the doors, and Percy could only glare at the ground.
"Percy!" It sounded like a girl's voice that had called him. His shoulders stiffened, glancing around, but there was nobody there. As if anyone would be caught yelling his name.
The teenager kicked a chair as he passed, backpack not nearly as heavy as the invisible weight stress had left on his shoulders.