Chapter Text
It was Annabeth’s turn to take over the wheel. Percy gave a yawn and stretched in his seat, blinking sleepily, ready to nod off. He turned to look at his girlfriend with half closed eyes. She was humming a song. They were on a long road trip through the country, from the East coast to the West. It was almost done with. They’d reach LA in within the month, if they wouldn’t have to stop every hour to admire the freedom and scenery.
The last year of high school had been quite the drainer. Percy had decided to finish up his education and think about college while Annabeth already started with the application forms. But after a long discussion about what they wanted, the pair had decided to take a break from it all (and seriously, Annabeth wasn’t done with rebuilding Olympus. That mountain is huge.)
Many were all for it. Some were afraid, but c’mon, guys! It’s Percy and Annabeth! They’ll be together. Don’t worry about it.
It would have been more fun with the entire gang. But most were a year younger and were already trying for part-time jobs and internships before their final year. It was surreal to be reminded that at eighteen, the hero couple were some of the oldest demigods in their generation barring those who lived in New Rome. Surreal and depressing.
No other time like the present. A long journey across the US was just what the doctor ordered. It was nauseous inducing at first, but when they got the rhythm going, Annabeth would crank up the radio and Percy would belt out the lyrics in a rib cracking fashion. They were eighteen and free and flying.
“We’re not stopping?” Percy asked, when he woke up from a power nap. The sun was setting and he’d rather not travel at night during deserted hours.
“I’m good.” Annabeth reassured him. “We can reach the end of the highway by midnight. There’s a hotel there and since we passed by the last one –”
“The last one was beyond spooky and you know it.”
“Yeah, I’m not arguing. But you were tired and we could have at least parked next to the diner.”
Percy shook his head. It had been too seedy a motel to want to stop at. His instinct to run flared up sharply when he had seen the place. Annabeth was nearly asleep when they’d crossed that place, so she hadn’t picked up on the haunting vibes of the place.
Annabeth sighed. Their nerves were too strained. The allure of the road trip had diminished once they crossed the midway point. Now the couple were just tired and wanted to get it over with. Whoever said that get away rides were totes romantic and perfect had taken poetic license to the extreme.
“I wanted to reach the next county by tomorrow. We’re already extending the dates, did you know that?”
“Nope. I don’t think it matters, though. It’s still vacations. We survived the desert in the summer. We’re awesome. I’m gonna kiss you.”
Annabeth couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face when he leaned to press his lips sweetly to her cheek. Her spirits soared and she pressed her foot on the accelerator in tandem.
“Whoa, Wise Girl. Turn down the heat.” Percy teased poking her shoulder and turning back to the road.
Barely an hour later, Annabeth found something strange. There was a dark figure sprawled by the side of the empty stretch of road. The skies were already purple and her low beam zoned in on the person lying half way on the cement.
“Oh my gods. Percy! Percy, over there!”
Percy started, one hand already going for Riptide when he spotted what she was pointing at. “Is that... is he dead?”
Annabeth hesitated for a second before slowing down. It was dangerous to stop on an empty road. What if it was a trap? What if there were bandits or thugs - monsters – ready to jump them?
“He’s not breathing!” Percy said, opening his door in a flash, Riptide in pen form. He was ready for an attack, eyes scanning the area.
Annabeth kept the engine running as she got out and stood by her door, watching his back.
The boy had bled out. Part of the road was covered in a dark stain. He was lying on his front, head turned to the side in his last attempt to breathe before he had succumbed. His eyes stared blankly ahead. Percy inhaled sharply.
“Is he dead?” Annabeth whispered. The guy looked younger than them.
Percy kneeled down and touched a cold and sticky wrist. He bent his head to look at the pale unmoving face. And then his gaze fell below. Against the thin brown shirt, there were large blood splatters because of the slash on his neck.
Percy stood up immediately uncapping his pen which switched into a gleaming, three feet sword, ready for an ambush. Annabeth wordlessly got out her own sword and shield, searching around them for anything out of place.
“Claw marks.” Percy explained. Annabeth pressed her lips together. Had the boy been a demigod? A mortal? Whoever he’d been he had run into a monster and met a grisly fate. She felt a surge of anger and sadness but it was dwarfed by her own need for safety and Percy’s wellbeing.
“I think we should leave.”
Percy flinched. “I don’t want to leave him here.”
“What if the monster’s still out there? What if he was bait for someone else?”
“What about his family?”
Annabeth felt ashamed but frowned just as well. The smart thing to do would be to get away. They hadn’t been attacked yet. Was the culprit waiting? Why would it do that?
“It must have left. Annabeth, he’s just a kid. The least we can do is get him home.” Percy’s voice was soft but his words hit her and she knew she was being too cold with reason and experience.
“Al...alright. I’ll call 911.”
She reached for her phone, praying that the monster had left the minimum range so that it wouldn’t be enticed to come back due to the cell signal. Percy bent down to the teen and placed a palm over the face to close the eyes. Maybe it had been an animal attack. Nothing to do with the supernatural. Just a wild cat or a wolf that had felt threatened.
Percy arranged the boy’s shirt collar to a neater fashion, when he thought he heard a sound and looked up. Across the road was an expanse of woodland. The setting sun had cast long shadows from the trees to hide the forest and the only thing visible was a pair of glowing blue eyes through the thickness. Percy raised his sword threateningly. Only a god would dare approach an enraged demigod.
The eyes blinked and faded away. Definitely supernatural, Percy thought as Annabeth relayed their location to the officer on the line.
.....
It was a slow day at the Sheriff’s station. After the previous month’s string of animal attacks and the slaughter of four officers at the station, things had died down considerably except for the occasional domestic violence call or mugging. Beacon Hills was quiet and Deputy Tara wasn’t sure whether it was good or the eye of a storm.
The latest case they’d looked into was an accidental death in a basement when a falling shelf had knocked out a man and killed him. It was tragic but clear, not warranting much investigation. She remembered when she had to talk to the man’s wife and son, the latter hadn’t been able to stop sniffling while his mother had been stoic and red eyed through the interview.
Tara was nearly done with the paperwork when the desk phone rang and she realized that it was the civilian emergency line. She pushed away her file and picked up the receiver, “911, what’s your emergency?”
“I... there’s a boy lying on the road. I think he’s dead. There’s a lot of blood and ... my boyfriend and I were in the car when we saw him so we pulled over...”
Tara grimaced at the news and raised her hand to signal Haigh in the next booth. He looked up from finishing off a donut and was already standing to check if his service weapon was loaded and ready in case he needed it. Tara shook her head and pointed at another phone – a direct line to the emergency unit at the hospital.
“Okay, miss. Do you know where you are?”
“Yes. Yes, we’re on the highway... wait, bypass beside the main town of the county. Er... Beacon...”
“Beacon Hills Bypass.” Tara clarified.
“Yes.” The girl’s voice relaxed slightly from the high pitch strain it had had earlier. “We passed the sign ten minutes before we found him.”
“Alright. We’ll be tracing this call for the purpose of tracking. Stay on the line until an ambulance reaches you. I’d like you to check if the boy is breathing. Are you or your boyfriend hurt?”
“No. We’re fine. But the guy’s not breathing and Percy can’t find a pulse. His hand’s cold to touch and it looks like he’s been this way for a while. He says that there’s a lot of blood that’s already drying on the road. We think he stumbled out of the forest a few hours ago.”
Tara frowned hoping it wasn’t another animal attack. Beacon Hills hadn’t recovered from the last string of manslaughter and murder patterns.
She kept talking to calm the girl down until she received confirmation that the ambulance had reached them.
The Sheriff walked in as she put the receiver down. “Just got a distress call about a body on the bypass. It sounds like another animal attack to me.”
He winced at the news and ran a hand over his face. “And things were just going quiet... What did the M.E. say?”
“Haigh went to meet up with them. He’ll call back in a minute. A couple found the teenager bled out. They think he ran from the forest, from whatever was chasing him and collapsed on the road.”
Tara saw a tired look on the Sheriff’s face. “When was this?”
“Just now. I got the 911 call a few minutes ago.”
“Right. Call me if I’m needed. I haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Everything okay?” Tara asked concerned. She knew that the Sheriff had argued with Stiles in the morning about cases and privacies. His son had tried to pester about the domestic accidental death case that they’d just closed.
“Yes. It’s fine. I just called Stiles and he wasn’t picking up. Neither was Scott. And I know they’re up to something again and if it has to do with what’s happening now, I’m going to lock ‘em up in custody.”
Tara sighed, exasperated. Scott and Stiles were always up to something. She remembered a hot summer when two eight year olds rushed into the station, one particularly dull afternoon which turned less dull when they started firing their water pistols. They’d spent the morning in a very quiet and hushed meeting planning the thing.She missed having them over. They reminded her of her sister’s children and how she’d like to have some one day. Maybe she’d invite the station for an outdoor barbeque. Social gatherings were good for the soul.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the Sheriff’s mug falling off his desk and hitting the ground, the ceramic shattering into a thousand pieces.
Tara looked up in surprise. So did the other few officers who were at their desks. The Sheriff was standing, pale and shaking, his phone pressed into the side of his head. Whatever the person on the other end of the line was telling him, it wasn’t good news. She got up, unadvisedly leaving her post and went in the office. Stilinski stood in shock, staring into space as he listened in silence.
“Sheriff, what’s wrong?” She asked. She heard her colleagues stand behind her, staring at their boss.
She could almost see something break in his eyes. The hand holding the cell phone went slack and it slipped though the Sheriff’s fingers. Tara reached out and caught it before it hit the desk.
“... so sorry, John. But we need you here to...”
Tara held the phone to her ear, recognizing the voice and spoke, “Haigh? What is it? What did you tell the Sheriff? He doesn’t look good.”
Haigh was quiet for two seconds and then said in a low voice, “Tara, the 911 call. The body those two kids found? It’s Stiles.”
.....