-- December 2006 --

MJ is crying again.

She's been crying a lot recently. In her defense, she has some very valid reasons for crying. Number one, of course, is that she's in her first year of college. It sucks how much she hates college. She's spent most of her life dreaming about a higher education and the doors it would open for her. She worked so, so hard to get where she is now, and yet she's never been more miserable in her life. Not even when she was homeless.

This most recent crying session takes place on a bench outside a closed Chinese food place. Despite being closed, their bowl of noodles neon sign is on, so MJ's latest breakdown is backlit in red. The bench is still drenched from the rain two hours earlier, but she can't bring herself to care that the metal is cold or that her clothes are slowly but surely getting wetter the longer she sits there. She has her elbows propped up on her knees, her face buried in her hands, tears streaming down her face, and no fucks to give about wet clothes or weird looks from strangers.

She'd known that college wasn't going to be easy - school has never been easy for her, thanks to her dyslexia. Still, she hadn't known it'd be this awful. She really shouldn't be doing so poorly. MJ remembers everything she hears and college is super lecture-based, so she should at least be doing okay. But despite remembering everything her professors say, she can't seem to understand half of it, and all of the quizzes and essays are kicking her ass.

It doesn't help that things back home aren't so good either. Even if she didn't have college to worry about, she'd still be stressed all the time. Unfortunately, she does have college to worry about, so between that and family matters, MJ is probably as stressed as humanly possible. Hence all the crying. And the sleeping poorly. And the lack of appetite.

Gods, she's falling apart.

She knows she's losing her grip when it takes her an entire minute to realize someone has joined her on the bench. She lifts her head from her hands to assess the situation. White man, 6'1", 176 lbs, late forties-early fifties, gangly, reddish-brown hair that goes in every direction, dark blue suit paired with Converse (bold choice), and sad brown eyes that seem too ancient for the body they belong to. MJ knows what eyes like that mean, and it only makes her want to cry more.

"Whatever it is," she says, voice cracking, "I'm really not in the mood."

He looks at her like he knows her. "I know. I'm sorry."

Wait. An apology? If he is what she thinks he is, apologies should be foreign territory to him. And yet he's apologizing to her, and he actually seems to mean it. Her entire body tenses. Who is this guy? And why is he British?

"Please just leave me alone," MJ pleads.

The man reaches out to touch her arm, then thinks better of it and pulls away so quickly that he bangs his elbow into the arm of the bench. He grimaces. "I'll walk away. I promise you, I will. But there are some things you need to know first."

MJ sniffles and wipes at her face. "Fine. But please make it quick. It's late and I really should be getting back to my dorm."

"Yes," the man agrees, looking around at the empty street and the stars twinkling above. He has one leg draped over the other, his banged elbow resting on his knee. His other arm lays on the back of the bench. "Yes, you should." He looks back at her with a frown. "What are you doing out so late, anyway? And so far from campus?"

"I decided I'd walk until I stopped feeling like I was going to explode," she says. "And then I only stopped because I prefer to sit down when I sob dramatically."

The man's face softens. "I'm sorry. I wish there were something I could do to help."

"Wishes are for children," MJ says. She leans back, arms folded over her chest. "You said there were things I need to know?"

He nods and leans back too with a small sigh. "I'm here because you deserve a warning for what's going to happen."

"What's going to happen?"

"Well, I can't tell you that," he says. "But I can tell you that your life is about to change, Matilda Winslow, and drastically."

Most people would freak out at a complete stranger knowing their government name, but MJ doesn't bat an eye. "I'm guessing it doesn't change for the better."

"That depends on who you ask," the man says. The corners of his lips quirk up into a sad smile. "I'd like to say for the better, but I've always been accused of being an optimist."

"Nothing wrong with being an optimist as long as you're not naive," MJ says. She tilts her head. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Just two more things," he tells her. "You're going to need to be brave for what's to come, Matilda. The bravest you've ever been, and I know that's a lot to ask for, but I have to. For your sake."

Huh. So the overwhelming dread MJ's been feeling for the past few months can get worse. What a fun discovery.

MJ's voice comes out soft and small. "And what's the last thing?"

"When you get there," he says, "you need to find the doctor."

"Get where?" she presses. "What doctor?"

He shrugs, eyes flickering skyward, and says more to himself than her, "I'll take it." He looks back at her with those sad brown eyes. He looks like a kicked puppy. Middle-aged men should not look like kicked puppies. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but that's all I can tell you. I have very strict orders from the highest authority."

"Of course, you do," MJ sighs, slumping down.

"I really am so sorry," he says, and she fights the urge to break his nose. Maybe it's just her bitterness talking, but his sincerity is starting to verge on condescension. "Go back to your dorm, Matilda Winslow. Get some sleep, if you can. We'll see each other again someday."

"Looking forward to it," she says dryly.

A car alarm goes off down the block and her gaze snaps to the offender - a silver Honda Civic with a Jersey plate. Her eyes leave the stranger for no longer than six seconds, and yet when she looks back, he's gone. She lets out a long, heavy sigh. Typical.

MJ forces herself to her feet and starts the long walk back to her dorm. She sincerely doubts she'll get any sleep tonight. Whatever the future holds, she hopes it comes before her Spanish exam on Friday. Drastic life changes should be a valid excuse for missing class.

Right?

*

Two days and a failed Spanish exam later, MJ finds herself wandering the streets again.

The plan is to walk until she feels like less of a failure. She hasn't quite gotten there yet, but she stops anyway. There's an alley just up ahead, and she hears something strange. Could be nothing. Could be trouble. MJ kind of hopes it's trouble. That she can handle.

MJ squares her shoulders before walking down the alley. In the dips of the pavement, this morning's rain forms puddles big and small, all reflecting the murky sky above. She steps in every one of them on her way just to feel something other than misery, dread, and stress. She fiddles with her ring the entire way - the bronze metal glints in the pale light.

She rounds the corner, expecting to find...well, something. But all she finds is a particularly large puddle. Nothing capable of making the sound she heard. Nothing at all. Just another puddle. A puddle that...shimmers?

That's not quite right. She squats down at the edge and peers down into the water. Upon closer inspection, she realizes the puddle isn't reflecting the sky. Well, it is reflecting a sky, but not the gray afternoon sky that it should be reflecting. Instead, the puddle's still surface is the perfect image of a night sky full of shining stars. MJ slips her phone out of her back pocket and takes a few photos for proof. And it also just looks cool. She'll email them to Annabeth once she gets back to her dorm. For now, she's investigating.

She shifts onto her knees and leans over the puddle, her nose only centimeters from the water. It doesn't smell like anything unusual, and it's not giving off any sort of heat. She notes that when she leans over it, she doesn't pop up in the reflection either. She starts looking around for some sort of stick or rod to poke the puddle with when she hears the rapid footfall of heavy boots behind her.

MJ doesn't even have time to turn around before a foot slams into the small of her back, sending her tumbling into the puddle. It's then she realizes it's not a puddle at all. It's a portal.

And it burns.

*

STARRING:

chandler kinney as matilda "mj" winslow

doctor who cast as their respective characters

FEATURING...

TEAM CAMP HALF-BLOOD:

(in alphabetical order)

leah sava jeffries as annabeth chase

aryan simihadri as grover underwood

lukita maxwell as intan lestari

charlie bushnell as luke castellan

walker scobell as perseus "percy" jackson

josie totah as priscilla "cilla" karam

malia baker as silena beauregard

tamara smart as thalia grace

bailey bass as zelda deonn

TEAM TARDIS:

(in order of appearance)

franz drameh as mickey smith

finn wittrock as jack harkness

*

i meant to publish this fic a While ago but um i have such emotional investment in this story and in mj that the thought of publishing it and no one liking it gave me crippling anxiety. BUT!!! i managed to push through and now here we are. i hope you all love my girl mj as much as i do. jsyk the pjo part of this crossover is based on the books but i'm using the show cast for the main trio + luke bc i think they were PERFECT casting. cast list may be updated as fic goes on.

before we begin, let's go over some disclaimers

1. mj's a big fashion girlie so i will be describing most of her outfits. i'll try to keep it as short and sweet as i can but sorry in advance if it's annoying to you

2. this story covers topics such as sexual assault, abusive relationships, and more also found in both medias' canon (death, violence, racism, etc.). trigger warnings will be included at the start of every chapter. if i ever forget to tag something triggering, lmk right away so i can fix it

3. mj is black. i am not. if i ever write anything completely inaccurate or overstep or just mess up in any way while writing her, pls lmk!!! i am actively doing research of course but some things (such as accurately depicting haircare routines) i could almost definitely use some help with and i really want to do right by mj, so don't be shy about speaking up or calling me out if i fuck up. hopefully i won't but i wanted to say this just in case

much less important note but still worth saying: luke castellan stans this one may not be for you i fear :/

(chandler kinney gif by kaceyrps on tumblr

doctor who gif by thelvadams on tumblr)