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It's early winter. The weather in New York is becoming too cold step by step. Winds are becoming stronger. The temperature drops by a couple of degrees every day.
The sky is covered by heavy grayish clouds. Rain is coming, Peter knows and dreads it. Cold is bearable, but adding humidity and ultimate rain to the mix? Peter hates the combination with his whole heart.
Percy, on the other hand, does not seem to care about the weather. He steps right into puddles. His shoes stay miraculously dry. Peter feels unreasonably jealous. His shoes are making that nasty squelching sound that can appear only when there is too much water in them. Peter hates rainy weather more and more every second.
“I wouldn't call it a quest, really” Percy shrugs, resuming their previous conversation. “More like lending a helping hand to Grover”
“I bet he found someone as troublesome as you are” Peter responds, hiding his hands in the pockets. “Though, I am probably wrong. There is no one who could compare”
“I am not that bad” Percy smiles slightly.
“You are, like, trouble-magnet, dude” Peter laughs, forgetting for a second about the nightmare of a weather. At least it is not raining yet, right?
“It’s not supposed to be particularly difficult, but well…” Percy looks thoughtful. He steps into another puddle and comes out with completely dry shoes. “I mean, we are going with Thalia, so...”
"Thalia?" Peter exhales, looking at Percy wildly. "But she hates your guts!"
Thalia has been a bit difficult ever since she woke up. She preferred to avoid most of the campers, snapped when someone asked her practically anything and was rather unsociable in general. Campers collectively decided to avoid her, but neither Percy nor Peter had such luxury. Annabeth absolutely adored Thalia since they were kids, apparently, and stubbornly hung out with an older girl. Avoiding Thalia would mean avoiding Annabeth, which wasn’t an option for either Percy or Peter.
"You know, they are inseparable these days" Percy explains with another shrug. “I am pretty sure Annabeth would refuse to go if Thalia didn’t agree”
“Maybe some action would be good for Thalia” Peter mutters, remembering all the nasty, irritating comments the girl has come up with. She is not all bad, of course. Just extremely annoying.
“We can only hope” Percy nods.
“Tough” Peter sighs, accidentally stepping into another puddle. He turns to Percy once again. “How are you getting there, by the way?"
“Mum's driving us” Percy clicks his tongue.
“Better than public transport” Peter shrugs. A mischievous grin appears on his lips. “Do try not to burn the car”
"We would probably drown it, you know" Percy sneakers.
"Sure, yeah, that's more likely" Peter laughs.
“But we won't” Percy continues with a wider smile. “Because mom would kill me"
Peter cannot do anything, but nod in understanding. He knows Sally Jackson fairly well at this point. The woman is wonderful, but also terrifying.
"She is scarier than most things out there" he mutters.
“Yep” Percy nods along. “She is”
They turn the corner, ending up in front of a small diner. The place is unassuming, has the same grayish color as the whole city these days. Peter stops in front of it with a small sigh.
"Anyway, that's my cue” Peter states. “You sure you don’t want to have lunch with us? Uncle Ben would not mind”
“Nah, Mom’s waiting” Percy shrugs apologetically. “I don’t think she would appreciate me being even more late than I already am”
“Okay, okay, Perce, go save the world” Peter snorted. “Good luck on your not-quest! Say hi to Annabeth and Grover for me!"
"What, no hi to Thalia?" Percy raises an eyebrow.
"You are not the only one she doesn't like; she hates my guts too” Peter says with the most serious expression he can manage. “So, yeah, no hi to her"
“Is it Petty Parker I hear?” Percy laughs at him with a delighted expression on his face.
“Shut up, Percy” Peter joins in, not being able to contain his own laughter. "Good luck! I will see you in a week”
“Buy, Pete” Percy waves lazily and disappears around the corner.
Peter snorts once again and enters the dinner. He does not yet know that it will change his whole life.
The café looks just as depressing as it is supposed to look in the middle of a Tuesday. It's almost empty. The music is playing quietly in the background. A lonely server is looking at his phone, not paying much attention to his customers, let alone Peter.
Everything looks ordinary.
Everything ought to be ordinary.
Peter feels like something is wrong anyway.
It's a creeping feeling, small but annoying, at the back of his mind. Spider sense as Percy decided to call it when they first learned about it. Annabeth called him a dork that day. Peter found the name hilarious.
The feeling is growing slowly. Tickling, irritating warning that flashes in his mind makes Peter nervous, alert.
He looks around, hesitantly, cautiously.
"Hello" a voice comes from a table behind him.
Peter turns slowly, deliberately. He knows that sometimes it is better not to rush, especially when his spider sense almost screams at him to run, get out, hide and never come back again. Peter clutches his teeth and refuses to move. The feeling makes him feel terrified, but what kind of demigod he is if he runs from danger?
A smart one, his inner voice tells him. Peter ignores it.
Behind him a woman sits. Peter would not call her particularly beautiful. She looks like someone in their thirties, but there is greyish color in her neatly made hair. She looks at him with a serious, solemn expression of a strict teacher. There is no hint of a smile on her lip, in her eyes. Only something stoic, disapproving, unnerving.
"Hello" Peter says feeling like someone has slapped him. "Mother"
"Peter" she states, not a hint of emotion in her face. "Sit"
Peter sits. The desire to run, hide, never see her again is still present in his mind, but the boy overcomes the feeling. He looks at Athena hungry, attentively, knowing that it may be the first and the last time he would see the goddess.
"I come to congratulate you on the quest" she says. "You were successful as I knew you would be"
"I can hardly call it successful" Peter mutters, feeling sick.
“You retrieved the item I needed” the goddess states, still without much emotion.
“Morgan died” Peter counters, the face of the girl flashing before his eyes. The feelings of guilt, pain, remorse bloom in him, flashing brighter than ever before. In that second, he misses Morgan desperately.
“People die” Athena says simply. Her words sound dismissive.
“She wasn’t people” Peter all but whispers, horrified. “She was my friend. She was barely a teenager”
“She was a demigod” the goddess shrugs.
They are silent for a short minute. Athena looks at him boredly, stoically as if her explanation is more than enough to excuse Morgan’s death, as if it does not matter at all, as if it is how things are supposed to be. Peter looks at his mother, silence ringing in his ears.
“And what does it change?” he mutters in disbelief.
“Demigods’ lives are dangerous” Athena tells him, looking slightly irritated. “You should know that already”
“It does not mean that Morgan’s death does not matter” Peter argues, feeling more and more sick with every second. “It does not mean that it is okay”
“Sacrifices are necessary evil” Athena states. “Sometimes demigods die during quests. It is how things have always been”
“It does not mean that it is okay” Peter repeats quietly.
“You should think with your mind, Peter” Athena looks at him with something attentive, calculating in her gaze. “You are my son, my blood. It is unbecoming of you to be so…”
She paused for a second, curled her lips.
“Emotional”
“It what makes me human!” Peter all but erupts. It’s dangerous, he knows. His spider sense screams at him, telling the boy to run, hide, disappear. He hopes, desperately, frantically, that Uncle Ben will not come soon. He does not need to witness this.
“Then you should remember that you are only half human” Athena snaps, but her calm, disinterested expression returns just as quickly as it disappeared. “You should get used to death, child. Mortal lives are fragile”
“It’s not something one has to get used to” Peter argues.
“You will witness a lot of deaths on your path, Peter. Mortals, demigods, monsters…Your friends, family” she says coldly. “It’s inevitable for heroes”
“I am no hero”
“Not yet perhaps” There is something almost threatening in her tone. “But I didn’t come here to argue with you, Peter. I came here to congratulate and award you”
“I don’t need anything” Peter spits out perhaps a bit too quickly.
“And yet you will accept it” Athena looks at him dangerously, smiling slightly. “Consider it an apology for everything you have to endure”
She hands him a small box, made of dark wood. Peter accepts it hesitantly, cautiously, reluctantly. His mother waves her hand in a way that tells him to open the box. Peter shoots her a look but follows the instructions. He knows better than to argue with gods.
Inside there is a wristwatch. Elegant, simple, metal wristwatch.
“What is it?” Peter asks because it cannot be so simple. He remembers Annabeth’s baseball cap.
“A device to hide your scent in the mortal world. It will allow you to use technologies without attracting monsters too much” Athena explains calmly, with a small, satisfied smile on her face. “The curse made you a much bigger target and we cannot afford to lose such an asset”
Peter takes the watch under her calculating gaze. It’s cold under his fingers. He does not want to accept it, touch it, wear it. He has to, anyway.
“That’s what I am to you?” Peter mutters under his breath, adjusting the present on his wrist. “An asset?”
Athena smiles coldly, cruelly.
“Goodbye, Peter”
The café returns back to life.
The music is still playing in the background. The server finally abandons his phone and comes with a set of menus. Peter looks through it without much interest, hoping to see his uncle as soon as he can. Uncle Ben is a wise man, he would be able to help Peter sort his thoughts. He needs advice, Peter thinks, and who is better at giving one than his uncle?
Peter is not surprised that his mother left so quickly. He is not surprised their first meeting was such a disaster. He only hopes it was the first and the last of their meetings.
Peter still feels like someone has punched him in the guts.
He knows, logically, knew ever since he was seven, that gods are cruel. They do not care, do not feel much compassion. They are just not capable of it.
Perhaps, it even makes sense. Living for thousands of years probably teaches to be impassive. After all, it is probably better not to care about those who live and die in mere seconds compared to your own life. Perhaps, it is simpler. Perhaps, it does not hurt as much.
Peter thinks that he could never choose something like that.
Gods may be family, but they are different. They think, act, live differently because they are different beings altogether. They are powerful and merciless, prideful and elate. They are not fair. They do not value life as much.
Gods are not human. And it shows.
Peter looks at the watch with a frown.
It looks like something he should cherish. The watch is beautiful and useful, especially for someone like Peter. He likes technology, despite not being able to use it properly. A watch that would allow him to do what he is interested in, explore and learn, gifted by a goddess, should make him feel appreciated, honored. It should feel like a reward, a thoughtful gift.
It feels like a slap to the face instead.
It feels like a cheap way to say ‘sorry’. It feels like his mother believes that the watch is equally valuable as Morgan’s life. It feels like an insult instead of an apology.
“Hey, kid! What’s you got there?”
Uncle Ben’s voice cuts through the swirl of Peter’s thoughts, making him jump a little.
“I didn’t scare you, did I?” his uncle smiles, warmly.
“No, no, sorry” Peter shrugs. “I was lost in thoughts”
“Everything’s alright?” the man asks with slight worry in his eyes. He sits opposite Peter, right in the place where Athena sat.
“I…” Peter hesitates, biting his lip. “I… met my mother”
Uncle Ben frowns, looking properly worried and concerned. He pauses for a second, clearly not understanding what Peter means.
“Mother?” he sounds unsure. “You mean…?”
“Athena, goddess of wisdom and war strategy” Peter mutters and looks away.
“And…” Uncle Ben clearly feels out of his depth. “Did it go well?”
“I mean, I am still alive?” Peter almost laughs hysterically. He does not know if the way their meeting went could be considered well or even adequate, but he is here, right? And with gods it is somewhat of a success, right? Even if it was his own mother.
“An alternative was a possibility?” Uncle Ben sounds properly worried, scared. He looks at Peter with wide eyes that are full of concern and fear. He looks like he wants to grab Peter and run.
He should not be so worried, Peter thinks. His uncle is a brave man, a policeman who helps people. He is courageous and never backs down from a challenge. He should not look scared, not because of Peter, the boy thinks.
“Nah, I don’t think so” Peter shrugs. “I am too valuable of an asset”
The feeling of sickness, wrongness, alert screams in his mind. Uncle Ben does not find his words reassuring.
“And I got a watch from her” Peter lifts his hand, showing his uncle the gift. The man’s face clears for a second.
“That’s…” he starts, but a loud bang does not let him finish.
A man appears in the diner. He is short, skinny, and fidgety. He holds a gun.
“Give me your money!” he screams, loudly, desperately, scarily. He waves a gun around and moves wildly.
The server looks at the robber horrified, backs aways. He whispers something with wide open eyes and backs to the registry. His hands tremble terribly.
Peter freezes. The feeling of wrongness, anxiety, danger is so loud in his mind he can barely think.
He should do something, he is trained to do something, is he not? Dealing with an insane robber should not be harder than dealing with a hungry monster, right? He has super strength, right? He should do something; he cannot let the man hurt anyone!
He remains frozen.
Uncle Ben gets up and Peter can almost know that it is not going to end well. He hisses at his uncle, tries to grab him, but the man waves him away.
“Hey, lets calm down a bit, okay?” Ben raises his hands in peace, talking to the robber. The crazy man turns to him in seconds, looking wildly at the older man.
A loud bang deafens.
Peter jumps from his seat, reaching his uncle in seconds. The older man takes a step back in shock. He clings to something in the area of his stomach. There is a quickly growing red splash on his shirt.
Peter forgets how to breathe.
The robber drops the gun loudly and runs out the diner as fast as he can. The server looks like he is about to faint. Peter does not see any of it.
Uncle Ben all but falls to the floor, hand still on his stomach. Peter rushes to cover the wound. It’s necessary to apply the pressure, right? His hands are quickly turning red with his uncle’s blood.
He should know what to do, Peter thinks in shock. His hands tremble as he sees his uncle’s painful flinch. He is a demigod, he should know how to help, to save people. He should know, but there is nothing in his mind but horror.
His uncle, his favorite, brave, kind uncle, is dying. Ben, who is not connected to the world of myths, of danger, of sorrow, is dying. And while the robber is probably a simple crazy mortal… Mortal world is not as dangerous. Uncle Ben should have been safe, Peter thinks hysterically.
He screams something about the ambulance, doctors, any help. He keeps his hands on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. He cries, because he can see, can feel that it does not work.
“Hey, it is going to be alright, kid” his uncle smiles, but there is a pained expression on his face. He breathes heavily.
“Hey, don’t talk, okay?” Peter cries, trying to appear braver than he really feels. “The doctors will be here soon”
His uncle gives him another weak smile. He looks like he does not believe Peter’s words. Peter is not sure he believes them himself.
He is no son of Apollo, he does not have healing powers. He knows how to treat a stub wound, sure. He knows what to do basic first response, sure. But what to do with a bullet wound in stomach? What to do when there is a considerable pool of blood around, and the bleeding refuses to stop? What to do when his own hands are scarlet red?
He trembles and tries to come up with something, anything. He begs, prays, screams to his mother, other gods, anyone who would hear. There is no response.
“Hey, Pete, promise me one thing, okay?” his uncle whispers, coughing. There is blood on his lips.
Where is the ambulance?!
“Anything” Peter nods, trying to contain his sobs.
“Be kind, Pete” Ben tells him, trying to seem almost cheerful. “Be brave and alive, no matter what. You have great power, kid, and with it comes great responsibility”
“I…” Peter sobs, looking as the light weakens in his uncle’s eyes. “I can’t, not without you!”
“You are not alone, Pete” his uncle whispers. “May, Percy, Annie… Your family, Pete”
“You are my family!” Peter screams, feeling like a little kid witnessing the death of his parents once again. There are tears in his eyes, blood on his hands, panic in his mind.
Uncle Ben does not answer.