Chapter Text
Frankie's mother had just died. Her grandmother had just received the news. The funeral had already happened. Frankie was surrounded by grief, but not just that. Something had stirred inside of her. She didn't really understand what was wrong, but she felt angry, at herself, at her grandmother, at everyone.
Frankie couldn't breathe, for weeks she felt trapped inside her body. Staring at her hair and chest and knowing it was all wrong. Every part of her was wrong, it wasn't Frankie. She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to tell herself she was fine, that nothing was wrong and it was all in her head. She couldn't eat, every time she did, she threw it all up. Sleeping was hard. She could barely move. She was sad, she was angry, and she was confused.
One day, she'd had enough. She'd lined up all her grandmother's pottery in the backyard and had her bow prepared. She shot each one of them down and shattered them. Her grandmother was mad when she saw them, but brought Frankie inside to talk.
"I know something is wrong." Grandmother said.
"I-I don't know." Frankie couldn't say another word before the tears came flowing.
"I know the loss of your mother has been hard on you, but I think there's something else bothering you." She said. "You're acting different, I've noticed."
"I-I think I'm a b-boy." Frankie said through tears. "I hate my body, and I hate myself, and my hair, and I hate everything."
"Alright Frankie, or should I say Frank. Let's do something about that hair." Grandmother smiled.
And Frank's hair was cut.
And the pottery was forgotten.
And they were okay, at least for that night.
That's when Lupa showed up. The she-wolf's training was intense, for the next few months Frank worked harder than he thought he ever could. Every night, after his training had finished, his muscles ached, and so did his heart. His hair was growing long again, and his chest seemed massive. Lupa still addressed Frank as she, and he wasn't sure how to tell a wolf or anyone, really.
The intense exercise was worse since he still couldn't eat. But his archery skills were developing, and he enjoyed that.
Eventually, they arrived at Camp Jupiter. Frank carried nothing but his piece of firewood and the clothes on his back into that camp. He'd been rushed to medics for his wounds, and spent a few weeks in the Camp Jupiter infirmary. During that time, he'd befriended the medics there. One time he'd spoken to one of them about his gender predicament.
"Oh! You mean trans! You're trans!" The healer had answered him.
"Trans." Frank muttered. "Interesting, what else do you know about this 'trans' thing?"
"I'm not an expert on this stuff, but I know we do have some resources for trans campers, though not a lot." The medic answered him.
"...what kind of resources?" Frank asked.
"I know we have binders and stuff, but other than that I dunno." The medic said.
"why would I need a binder? What does holding papers have to do with being trans?" Frank asked.
"Not that kind of binder. It um... Flattens your chest. Its not exactly the safest though. You can't wear it for very long or you'll hurt your ribs." The medic said.
"Oh," Frank said, listening very intently.
"I could try and get you one of you'd like. You'll be out of the infirmary soon." The medic stated.
"Please!" Frank said.
Frank left that afternoon. He was able to get his hands on a binder and get his hair cut again. The binder was a bit difficult to figure out, but Frank got it eventually.
Frank was finally starting to feel okay. He could eat again and he was fitting in with the rest of the fifth cohort. He'd even made somewhat of a friend with a girl named Hazel. He'd never tell anyone, but he might've had a bit of a crush on Hazel.
Frank's life at Camp Jupiter continued, and he couldn't help but feel empty again, not because of his gender, but because he was unclaimed. He'd come all this was to Camp Jupiter, just to remain unclaimed, his father still didn't give a shit about him.
Frank was going to have to prove himself.
That's when a certain crazy guy named Percy Jackson showed up.
And Frank's whole world changed.
Percy was this tall, strong, son of Neptune who'd decided he didn't like the way Camp Jupiter was running. He'd just showed up one day and joined the fifth cohort. He was nice enough, so Frank didn't mind him, but some others, namely Octavian, weren't so friendly with Percy.
The fifth cohort was planning their strategy for the next war games, when Percy comes in with this crazy plan. Frank, along with everyone else was pretty shocked.
They won.
They won the fucking war games. And not only that, Frank had been claimed by Mars, God of war. His father noticed him.
It took all that for his father to notice him.
That piece of shit didn't care about him, not unless Frank looked good. As long as Frank showed his strength and skill, he was to be blessed by Mars. But as soon as he stepped out of line, he was an embarrassment, not to himself, but to Mars.
And Frank was leaving for a quest in the morning. He dreaded what came next. But at least Hazel was coming with. She was nice, even if her brother was a little... Creepy.
Frank had a... Strange dream that night. Demigod dreams were normally weird but this wasn't normal demigod weird. It wasn't prophetic, but a memory Frank had long forgotten.
He was eight years old, hiding from his mother who was trying to get him ready to go to some gathering. He didn't know what. But what he did remember was the dress she was trying to get him to wear. That's why Frank was hiding in the closet. He'd seen the poofy red dress. It made him cringe even now. Frank was in that closet, crying silently. He. didn't. Want. To. Wear. The. Dress. Not just his eight year old self, Frank didn't want to wear the dress. He was crying with his younger self, not fully understanding why, but just feeling the moment.
Frank had woken up in his familiar bottom bunk at Camp Jupiter. He lifted his blankets to see the also familiar, but much less welcome, red stain in his sheets.
"Fuck." he muttered
He had to start his period the day they were leaving for the quest. He rolled out of bed. Tugging at his purple hoodie to make it longer. He trudged off to the bathroom to get ready for the day.
-----
The ocean was not a fun place to be.
Especially when its been two days out at sea on a dinghy and you can't take your binder off because your friends don't know when you're trans.
Gods, Frank's ribs hurt.
They'd met with Iris and the prophet dude and were being propelled by a bunch of sea creatures all the way to Canada. Frank's feelings for Hazel were stronger than ever, but he understood that she was still thinking about Sammy, her boyfriend from the 1930s.
Frank was tired, and hungry, and missed Camp Jupiter, heck, he missed his grandmother!
He wished they could hurry up and free Thanatos, especially since Percy said Camp Jupiter was in danger. Frank had actually began to think of that place as his home.
Frank laid in the raft. The cramps were starting to hit again. He bit his lip and tried to look like he wasn't in pain.
-----
Frank was back, he was sitting in his grandmother's bedroom, Mars was staring right back at him. Apparently he'd done well because Mars snapped his fingers and 'boom!' Godly magic.
Frank could hardly believe his eyes as he stepped out of the room. He felt more... Masculine, the period cramps were gone, and he just felt more like himself. It wasn't perfect by any standards, but gods, it was so much better. Frank crept into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He'd learned so much recently about himself and his grandmother.
He pulled off his shirt and started at himself. His chest certainly wasn't gone by any standards, but the bruised ribs seemed to have healed. Frank smiled at his reflection, maybe things weren't so bad, just as long as no one found out-
Percy opened the bathroom door. He didn't know Frank was in there, Frank had forgotten to lock the door.
Percy stopped, looked shocked for a moment, and looked away. "Can we talk about this later." He asked, before stepping away.
"What..?" Frank asked, but Percy Jackson had already walked away.
Later, after they'd eaten, Percy approached Frank while he was in his old room.
"What's up?" Frank asked wearily..
"First of all, I wanna apologize for walking in on you like that." Percy said.
"Its alright Percy, it was an honest mistake." There was no emotion on Frank's voice.
"Second, I want to tell you something, something that I think we can find common ground on." Percy stated. Percy pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscular body.
"Look Jackson, we get it, you've got the perfect, muscular body and no one else will ever live up to you." Frank scoffed.
"No Frank, that's not what I came here to talk to you about." Percy said.
"Then what is it." Frank rolled his eyes at Percy.
"F-Frank, I'm trans too." Percy said.
"B-but you're..." Frank waved his hand at Percy's very clearly flat and masculine chest.
"That's because I got top surgery, Frank." Percy stated.
"Top surgery?" Frank asked.
"Oh, you don't-" Percy stopped himself, "I got my tits chopped off." He said blankly.
"You can do that?" Frank asked.
"Yep." Percy said. He traced over two parallel scars that Frank hadn't noticed before.
"So... Why do you want to talk to me about this?" Frank asked.
"Well..." Percy started.