Percy Jackson

I wanted to have fun tonight.

"Luke said he'll be here in like 20 minutes with his mom," Thalia said as they joined us at the 'kids' table (which consisted of me, Grover, Thalia, Annabeth, and then Luke, when he gets back, and an empty seat— since Annabeth didn't have a plus one). "So things must've gone well. Has the server come by yet?"

"No, I think they just started taking orders." Grover told the child of Zeus. "Do you have Luke's order?"

"No, but I know what he likes."

I saw Annabeth resist rolling her eyes— something that got on my nerves more than it should've.

But I let it go, because she was able to control it. To stay civil.

When Luke arrived, though, with his mother in tow to meet all of us (which, for Luke and May both, I assume was a big deal), she didn't keep the same restraint.

"Hey, sorry, we weren't able to make the right train, so we had to wait an extra couple minutes." Luke said as he approached us. "Guys, this is my mom, May. Mom, these are my friends— my second family, more or less."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

"Oh, grow up," I told the daughter of Athena after she's been doing the same stuff all morning when we'd been getting ready for the ceremony and helped set the dome area up afterwards— because gods forbid she had to do something with Luke or Thalia, but especially with Luke. "You came here knowing who was on the guest list— be civil or go somewhere else."

I smiled at the Castellans.

"Sorry."

"That's Percy, Sally and Gabe's kid." Luke simply introduced me to his mom, not commenting on the scuffle that just happened. "Poseidon's his bio dad. He came to camp during my last year, it's a little bit of a miracle that he doesn't hate me— long story. Next to him is Grover, his boyfriend. He's also a satyr, if you can't tell. He was also assigned as my protector, so he brought us to camp, which is crazy because he was like 7. He's cool."

"It's nice to finally meet you," Grover said, waving to the blonde mortal.

"Aw, thank you— and thank you for getting my baby to camp as safely as I'm sure was possible."

"And in the middle is Annabeth— Thalia and I found her not long before Grover found us when we were still on the run," Luke explained to his mom. "Her mom is Athena— she went back home for the first time after my last summer at camp. Her, Percy, and Grover have all gone on at least 2 quests already, all of which have been successful."

"Quests that wouldn't have had to of happened if you just minded your own business."

"Annabeth!" Thalia and I both scolded, because as... True as the statement is (well, not for this most recent quest, but the first two it's absolutely the truth), she did not have to bring that up in front of his mom.

Annabeth gave Thalia— the person she was nearly attached to the hip with two weeks ago, the nastiest look I've ever seen.

"Like you have room to talk?" The daughter of Athena challenged, scooting her chair out. "I'm going to the bathroom."

There was a beat of silence.

"That's Annabeth." Luke repeated, May giving him an understandably skeptical look. "It's a part of that long story, but things are... Like that now. She's like my little sister, but I'm more or less a dead man in her eyes. So..."

Now anxious, Luke took a step towards Thalia, putting a hand on his partners shoulder.

"This is Thalia, my—"

"You're Luke's partner!" May recalled, catching Thalia off guard. "He loves you a lot. You guys met before camp, right?"

Thalia nodded.

"Yeah, I also ran away from home," Thalia confirmed. "We'd both been on our own for a while before we met and decided to travel together. I know he loves me— he's been kind of pathetic about it since before we found Annabeth."

Luke squeezed his partners shoulder, even if he was trying not to smile.

"Thanks, babe." The son of Hermes said in a flat tone, making the rest of us chuckle. "Love you, too."

Grover looked at me.

"Should I start staying stuff like that in front of your parents?"

I promise you I turned red.

"Please don't— my mom doesn't need more ways to embarrass me."

May smiled.

"I'm sure I'll hear all about these long stories as time goes on— though I hope things get better with Annabeth. It's a tough age she's at. I'll try not to overstep my boundaries. I'm going to go find a spot to sit— have fun tonight, okay? I'm sure I'll see you around. It was wonderful to meet you all. Thank you for being there for Luke."

As she walked away, Luke visibly relaxed, taking his seat again across from Grover and next to Thalia.

"You good?" I asked the son of Hermes as he rested his head on Thalia's shoulder.

"Yeah, that was just a little mortifying," Luke nodded, which I could understand. I was scared when I told my parents Grover was more than just my friend. "She's doing a lot better than I expected— because I ran away, she got put into inpatient stuff, so I guess some good came out of it. But yeah, petrifying. At lunch, after she learned that I was dating Thalia and that we live together, she uh... Gave me the talk."

I covered my mouth, Thalia laughed, Grover snorted out some of his water.

"Didn't both of my parents give you the talk?" I recalled. "After they met Thalia?"

Luke nodded a confirmation, telling me that he and Thalia got talked to at the same time by my parents— they traded spots after giving one talk to one of them.

I think that was the day my parents officially became adoptive parents to Luke and Thalia.

•••

I wanted to have fun tonight.

But I kept on seeing Nico out of the corner of my eye when he wasn't actually there.

There was somebody here that was shorter than me— a kid of a friend of my mom's, I think, who had short dark hair, and ever time I caught him out of the corner of my eye...

Any time anybody with dark straight hair appeared in the corner of my eye, I'd turn my head, thinking that somehow, someway, Nico di Angelo tracked us down. Maybe a monster lured him here. Maybe he saw a party and remembered that my parents were throwing one of those this week, so he came in to see if we were here.

And every time, it wasn't him.

For the dinner, more of Gabe's family had arrived— family we're not super close with, but that I've met once or twice before. Because Gabe's dad is married to a man (well, by common law), my great grandparents weren't around much when I was little. According to Gabe, they weren't in his life almost at all until Mr. D was at camp all the time. And even thing, things were tense because my grandpa's parents didn't actually accept him, they just... Tolerated it. Dealt with it. Grandpa's siblings had mixed feelings about it. I don't know how any of their kids, or their kid's kids felt about it, but they were here. Not all of them, but some of them.

Plenty of them that I've never met before. That I wouldn't know or recognize.

So, after an entire night of thinking that I was seeing Nico di Angelo out of the corner of my eye, my anxiety was scattered.

I was scattered, and the night had barely started. The dinner ended an hour ago, and the party was supposed to go on for another like 5 hours. Annabeth was still here, but dinner was tense with her there and I... Couldn't relax.

The venue was dark, but the lights were colored and bright and it was hot because there were so many people all moving and dancing and singing to music that was loud and the floor felt like it was vibrating and...

Is that Bianca?

Immediately tuning out of the conversation happening around me (let's be real, I couldn't hear it anyways because I couldn't focus on it with everything else going on), I snapped my head in the direction of the daughter of Hades, who was walking away from me, towards a group of people that I vaguely recognized as grandpa's family (mostly because I didn't recognize them).

Does she think she would know them because they might've been alive in the same era?

Is she looking for Nico? Does she know where he is?

Walking towards the Huntress of Artemis, I tried to keep my pace in check as to not cause a scene. Running would get people's attention, but if I'm just walking with a purpose, it's fine.

Every person I slid by and accidentally bumped into felt like a dull knife getting dragged across my skin, but I persisted on to the other side of the event hall.

I wonder how Grover didn't sniff out a child of the Big Three.

Then again, with me and Thalia both here, maybe he chalked it up to the fact that there were multiple demigods around. Plus, there were so many things going on, I wouldn't blame him for not wanting to think about smells. Because now that I'm thinking about it...

For what I think are obvious reasons, this party was a sober party, but the bar was still stocked with a bunch of non-alcoholic stuff that smelled as good as the real stuff, at least when it came to the beer and... And it was so stuffy in here, but maybe I can go to the bathroom after I figure out what Hades only daughter is doing here.

"Bianca!" I called out, trying to yell over the music, but not doing a very good job at it because seriously why are my bones rattling on beat?

Another few strides, and the younger demigod had stopped, setting a drink down on the table and saying something to somebody next to her.

"Bianca, hey!" I repeated myself, now caught up as I placed a hand on her shoulder to earn her attention. "What are you—"

Thanks to me grabbing her shoulder, the girl turned around, and I saw her dark hair and eyes— her Caucasian complexion that could be olive toned, but it was hard in this light. I saw a teenage girl who could've been Italian.

But she wasn't Bianca di Angelo.

If this isn't Bianca, then where...

You promised you would protect her.

The girl pulled away from my touch.

"Uh, hey." She said, sounding cautious. She had a slight New Yorker accent— not Italian at all. "sorry, do we know each other?"

I can't breathe.

Where would Bianca go if she... If she isn't...

Stepping back, I looked for the nearest exit, seeing one to my left. The exit for the dome— not outside where it's freezing, but away from people.

Maybe she got distracted by the photos in there. Maybe she's comparing them to their old family photos, so she hasn't gotten this far yet.

Feeling my shirt grate against my skin as I rushed for the ceremony hall, the compression of my socks became overwhelming as the vibrations in the floor sent tiny shards of glass flying across my skin and if I get away than maybe I can rip it out and make the feeling go away, and then I can find Bianca and we can get her back to camp to figure out where her brother is and then—

Why is there a hand on me?

Retracting my body into a ball, I prayed that whatever monster or diety that stood before me was quick to take me out of my misery.

If I could breathe— if I could talk, I would just beg it to do it and do it fast, but I can't tell if I'm sitting on a floor or if I'm in the grass, and if my hands are touching the ground, I can't feel it and I don't know where I am, I don't know...

"Percy." My grandpa's voice broke through, as I looked up to see him with two older people— his parents, I think, but couldn't be sure. I know of them, but I don't know if I've ever actually met them. "Hi, can you hear me now?"

"I— y... Ye..." But I could still feel the vibrations in the floor, and it sent another panel of glass through my skin as I sealed my eyes shut, struggling to nod my head.

"Okay, good— I'm going to go look for your parents or for Luke or Grover, okay? Or even the friend of Gabe's that helped you last time, okay?" My grandpa told me. "You aren't alone, Percy— my parents are going stay here with you until we get someone else that knows more about what's going on. Just try to get your breathing under control, okay? I'll be back."

If I could get my breathing under control, I thought to myself. I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

As he ran off, every time my grandpa's foot smacked on the ground, I felt another bullet get lodged in my spine.

Looking around the room, it was empty besides us, meaning one thing: Bianca wasn't here.

Could she be hiding?

"Kid, hey," my great-grandfather said in a voice that was just loud enough for me to hear, but quiet enough to not scare me— just startle me a little. I probably looked like a deer caught in headlights right now. "what are you looking for? You need water? I can send the missus to get some if you need it."

But as I opened my mouth, it felt like my tongue was glued in place. All I could get out was a noise with no meaning, drying my mouth up, before I closed it and proceeded to try again.

My great grandfather said something I couldn't hear to my great grandmother before she took off her high heels and walked away as if she were trying to be graceful about it.

"Where...?" I stifled, my brain cutting off the words somewhere between my brain and my mouth. "she— going? L... Is... Find— finding Bi... Where...?"

Pulling at my collar, I felt like I was suffocating, but I couldn't... I couldn't get my shirt off, but it was suffocating me.

Where did Bianca go?

"Whoa, kid, it's okay," my great-grandfather insisted, pronouncing both syllables in okay. "She's just going to get you some water, your grandpa went to go find somebody to help. We're you trying to find somebody?"

Why can't I get my tie off? It's making my skin rub on my shirt, and the more my throat rubs against the shirt, the harder it is to breathe, and I can't... I can't breathe, but I can't do anything to make breathing easier because I can't rip this stupid tie off. Why do ties even exist if all they do is make people feel like they're suffocating at formal events?

"Here— let me help you get this thing off." Feeling my great grandfather's bony hands on my arm sent a chill down my spine, causing me to tense.

Unlike most people's reactions when I tense up because of being touched, he ignored my reaction and put his hand dangerously close to my neck.

Is he going to try to strangle me?

Why would he—

"There." He declared as I felt the hold on my throat relax. In his hands was a floral orange and blue tie.

My tie.

How did he get...?

Hovering my hand just over my chest, I realized that he hadn't meant to throttle or strangle me at all— he'd taken my tie.

Why did he want my tie?

"Feel a little better?" My grandpa's dad asked, setting my tie down next to me on the ground. "Ties are never good if you're having a hard time breathing. I'd help loosen your collar, but I'm afraid my fingers aren't as coordinated as they used to be. Maybe one of the others can help with that when they get here."

But looking at the glass, I could just see the winter countryside— a lot of nothing covered in snow, but it looked like there was a... Was that a hill?

Could it be the junkyard? Are we...?

"Percy." My great grandfather's voice barely registered. "Who are you looking for?"

"I... B— Bianca, I..." My voice wandered as my eyes scored the white wasteland for a head of dark hair and olive skin against the background. "I thought... I saw her, I thought..."

Did she find us?

"Bianca?" The old man repeated the name back to me. "Sounds like a lovely girl. Where'd you see her last?"

"She... I clenched my fists. "She was walking away and... Into the junkyard and..."

Tell Nico that I'm sorry.

"A junkyard? Kiddo, we're nowhere near a junkyard. When was this?"

You promised you would protect her.

"It... Last... I don't know exactly but it was... At the junkyard and she... And she walked into it and it..."

This is my fault. Her voice rang in my head. I have to fix it.

"It's my fault," I continued to stammer on, wondering if I was crazy or if I could actually see Bianca walking towards the hill in the distance— walking towards her doom. Once again, too far away for me to reach her. To stop her. "I promised... Promised Nico I would prot... It's my fault, I can't... I can't stop her, I can't... I couldn't move and she just kept on... She kept walking and... Then she was gone, she..."

Feeling the last wave of panic flow out of my body, I nearly went limp on the floor of the ceremony hall of my parents not-wedding, the reality sinking in.

A reality I thought I knew.

"I thought I saw her, just now, before I... Came in here." I voiced out loud, feeling my eyes begin to well. "But it wasn't... Her, it wasn't..."

Bianca's dead.

"She's gone." I went on, wondering if my great grandpa would make fun of me for crying in front of him (as if I probably wasn't crying during my panic attack just now). "She's gone, and I... I know she's gone. I knew she was gone, so why I did I...?"

Offering me a hand, my great grandpa helped me stand up as his wife re-emerged, holding a plastic cup of water.

"Here, drink this," the old man, who was somehow still very calm insisted we his wife handed me the glass. "And let's go for a short walk, yeah? I think the quiet and the cold will do you some good, and if you're willing to, we can talk about what just happened."

Nodding, I finished the water in just a few seconds since it was a small cup (though it helped me feel less confused, which was nice), and then shoved my tie in my pocket before following my distant family member outside.

It was freezing outside— but not snowing at the moment. Grandpa's dad was right about one thing, though: it helped to be outside. I had been overheating inside during my panic attack and felt suffocated, so being basically alone outside, in the cold, was like a nice breath of fresh air (even if the air hurt my lungs).

After a minute, or maybe only a few seconds, I couldn't be a good judge of time, my great grandfather broke the silence.

"How long's it been? Since the junkyard?"

I took a deep breath, trying to count the days

"It's um... 10 days?" I guessed. "11? Maybe 12, like... A couple days before the winter solstice. It was early morning and I'm not sure if it's midnight here yet or... Yeah. Less than two weeks. Why?"

He rubbed my back.

"Kiddo, it takes time for your brain to fully understand and comprehend the fact that somebody is gone." The old man explained to me. "A lot longer than two weeks. I don't know how close you were with her, but the closer you are, usually the longer it takes because you recognize them and you see them in everything."

"Everything?"

He scoffed.

"Oh yeah— not just people, but in the shows or music or food or places you used to go to together." He explained to me. "You may not see them physically like you do if you mistake somebody for them, but you get reminded of them. You'll know your body is ready to let them be at peace when those things that remind you of them start to make you smile instead of make you want to cry."

I looked down, wondering how long that would take for somebody who rarely smiles.

"Let me ask you, kid: Is this the first time you've lost somebody?"

"I mean..." I shrugged. "For a couple days, I thought my mom was dead, but she ended up being okay. So yeah, I guess so. Why?"

"Because." He told me. "The first one is always the hardest: you don't know what to expect, and you have no experience in coping or in grieving to know what you should do. My first time losing somebody after I understood the concept of death, I was a little older than you. 18? 19? Fighting over in Korea, I was a medic, but a buddy of mine was out there fighting on the frontlines. All of a sudden one night, couple of ambulances come with him and some of his battle buddies. One of them has stepped on a mine— we operated for hours on all of them, but it was a lost cause. I still remember hearing him flatline and having to call out lieutenant so we could get him wrapped up and sent to the mortician so he could go home."

He paused.

"I heard and saw him for weeks after that around the camp— they gave me a weekend off after a week of me being completely useless." My grandpa's dad admitted to me. "I didn't understand why I was so unfocused and why I felt like I was hallucinating until they called the psych in on me and he told me that it was normal and that it would go away once my body processed the loss. Took me months before I was back to 100%, but I got there. In that time, other people died— people I wasn't as close to, but still, and I had to grieve them to. It sucked. I felt like I was going crazy seeing ghosts sometimes, even after getting back to Korea. Hell, sometimes I still see them— but not often. Usually when I'm tired, or if I see family members. When there's a resemblance."

And I wanted to get something positive out of this, but I was only hearing one thing:

"So it never gets easier?" I asked, a feeling of hopelessness setting in. After all, the Korean war happened like 50 or 60 years ago, and if he still sees them from time to time... "You just have to go through it again and again? And it doesn't get easier?"

Pondering the idea, the old vet and I rounded the corner of the venue. I could see the main entrance, and I was starting to get cold since I was only wearing my tux.

"I don't know if gets easier." My great grandfather confessed. "But I know that you get better at handling it every time it happens. Think of it like reading: when you were just a baby, you couldn't read at all. Then, when you start school they teach you the alphabet and you have to learn how to read and write real basic stuff, but now you can probably read and write long essays and books with ease, right? And when you get to a new word, it don't frustrate you as much as it did when you were in kindergarten. Because you learned how to read and write and how to ask for help when you didn't know a word, all of which took you years to learn— you're still learning. Hell, you'll probably never stop."

I smiled a little.

"I'm dyslexic, so I'm not sure reading is the greatest comparison, but... I get what you mean."

He smiled back— it seemed genuine.

"It's just a metaphor kid, apply it to whatever subject or hobby you see is fit." He commented. "Grieving is a lot like learning."

"It never ends?" I asked.

"No, but you grow around it, and you get better at it with practice."

Trying to process that idea, I paused outside of the entryway to the reception.

"What if I don't have enough time? To get good at it?"

And maybe it's because he's known a lot of people that have thought the way I do, or maybe he didn't understand what I meant by that, but my great grandfather took me for my word.

"Unless you got some terminal illness, kid, you have all the time in the world to get better at it." He promised me, putting a hand on the door. "The people who leave before you don't want you visiting any time soon, I promise— don't sell yourself short. You're what? 13? 14? You got a couple more hard years ahead of you, but trust me— your 20s and 30s can be a lot of fun, but you have to let yourself have fun for that to happen, you hear me?"

I nodded my head.

"Alright, then enough of that." He opened the door, motioning for me to go inside. "Lets go have fun, kid."

END OF PART III

•••
Wow guys congrats this part is literally like half of the entire rewrite so far this was a MARATHON but literally soooo many things happen and get set up in titans curse so it makes sense.

Thoughts feelings or predictions for part four?

Anyways I'm off to figure out what to do for the cover, wish me luck 🫡 it may not be uploaded by 4.1 but trust that it's in the works.

Also ty for sticking with me this long <3 y'all are real ones