Chapter Text
I can't believe I fought demonic cheerleaders. Well, they were empousai, actually, but the whole metal and cloven hoof mix probably got some medieval mortals who could see through the Mist to say "oh, shit" and decide the devil is real. Because they couldn't believe in the - what did Chiron say? Talking about God is the... metaphysical that we shan't deal with, apparently. I wonder when if ever we ARE gonna deal with that.
Anyway. Annabeth and I were SUPPOSED to meet up and see a movie, sort of a date in spite of what I said to my mom. I feel a little bad for getting so adamant that it isn't with her, that it's just Annabeth, but I just - I don't need any more pressure. It's getting closer to time for the Great Prophecy to happen, and I've already chosen to be the child of the big three that it represents. I'm not letting Nico suffer any more, especially not if I can protect him. I owe him. I owe his sister too.
I have dreams about the desert and the junkyard. And Talos. The thing is, these dreams get slow like I'm moving through jello or something, like the whole world is encased in syrup as Bianca tells me that she's going to get inside Talos. After I had the idea and said it out loud. Stupid.
Sometimes I scream, sometimes I tell her to think about Nico, sometimes I say "let's go, let's just run for it!"
But the outcome is always the same. Except when I squeeze the mythomagic figure in my hand it starts to burn like hot wax or lead, and then it catches fire and I wake up feeling like my hand is burning.
I don't know if injuries demigods suffer in dreams actually happen in real life once they wake up. I don't want to find out.
The other dreams I get are ones where Luke watches as the sky crushes Annabeth, with this smile on his face. Sometimes he's laughing. But in those dreams, Thalia usually zaps him with lightning or impales him on her spear, so I'm satisfied.
Sometimes, though - sometimes I'm the only one on Mount Tamalpais with Annabeth. She's getting crushed underneath the weight of the sky because for some reason Artemis isn't there. (My dreams don't seem to care about what actually happened, which isn't frustrating at all.) And I'm scrambling, running and dropping; trying to push the sky up far enough to hold it, to help her, but she's weak and I know somehow that she's dying. Or she's going to without nectar and ambrosia, but I don't have any, and even if I did I couldn't give her any while holding up the sky. My palms are sweaty, my body feels fused together with pain, and I stay there talking to her until she's - she isn't breathing.
"Annabeth, hey, stay with me, come on," I beg, and sometimes she licks her lips, which are cracked and bleeding, and whispers my name.
"Percy -"
"Yeah, wise girl, I'm here," my eyes burn and my vision is blurring. She fights to say something, but I never know what it is, because she stops breathing. And then I black out. Waking up from that is the worst, my entire body aches and my throat feels raw from screaming. Once I had to run to the bathroom because I thought I was gonna throw up. (I didn't, luckily, but it was a close thing.)
All of which makes me super pissed at the god of dreams, whoever that is- or maybe it's just Kronos, screwing with me because I keep on thwarting his plans or making it harder for his Great Stirpot thing to happen. What he needs is a great wake-up call, or a bunch of nightmares to mess with HIM. Though those are probably just the years of people worshipping his kids while he rotted away in pieces in Tartarus.
I was tempted after one of these dreams to Iris message Annabeth, but I decided not to, first because it was waaay too early in the morning, and even though she tends to wake up early to get ready to come into the city for school, I'm pretty sure if she got a message before five a.m. she'd kill me. I wonder what Iris does if the person the message is for doesn't respond to it. Does she make it flash rainbow brite or does she charge an interest fee for time wasted? I'm not sure, but in either case, I didn't wake Annabeth up.
I just asked if she wanted to meet me after my school's orientation day and go to a movie.
Goode High School. That's the name of the place I'll be going this year. The only thing that's good about it so far is the fact that my mom's boyfriend Paul is an English teacher there. He put in a request for me to transfer, which is amazing and also super nice of him, because my grades and my ... incident record don't show promise. They probably show me as some messed-up juvenile delinquent who should be going to one of those last-chance schools, you know the ones that are the step before you do something bad enough to go to prison.
That national manhunt when I was twelve still pops up sometimes, and I work really hard not to let sarcasm win when anyone asks. "Oh, yeah, the time it was said that I blew up my step dad's car and made my mother disappear? Well, she's back, has been for two years now. Oh my stepdad? He left. Soon as my name was cleared he disappeared. When he was the one who swore I made my mom go away in the first place."
Nobody looked too close at the money my mom got after selling her one and only art piece a few days after her return, which I'm glad about. She didn't go crazy flaunting money or anything, though, and Paul is a teacher so we don't give off the 'family who mysteriously came into a ton of wealth' vibe. I just have a new skateboard and clothes that fit after the massive growth spurt I went through this past summer.
I wonder if Annabeth will notice. Not like I expect her to think anything, but I grew some two summers ago also. She never said anything, but I was able to pick her up and carry her off Mount Tam when we left Atlas holding his own burden again. Why can't I have dreams about that, the relief of having her in my arms, how she felt huddled against my chest and relaxing herself against me when I said I was there? Instead my mind plays sick games and has me telling her I'm there right before she becomes a corpse. Great.
Speaking of corpses, it fits that today I'm fighting off monster cheerleaders at my new high school. Which likely won't be accepting me after this; sorry Paul. I feel really bad that he stuck his neck out for me, even after I tried telling him that school... Seems like school and me don't mix.
Now or ever.