𝟎𝟏. new beginnings
one.
( the lightning thief. )
❛ new beginnings. ❜
SPRING WAS A FAVOURABLE TIME for the cluster of young demi-gods confined in the invisible barriers of camp half-blood. it symbolised the death of frosty nights and instead celebrated the arrival of blossoming leaves and freshly grown flowers — which excited the children of Demeter to no end. Overall, it welcomed the approaching humidity of June with open arms.
In truth, Colette quite enjoyed the springtime embrace that blanketed over the camp at the cusp of march. It meant the strawberries in the formation of the fields turned ripe with rich crimson, and the temperature of the lake increased gradually. Persephone's blessing of spring had left her thankful, most of the time.
The passing spring had been her fourth inside the confined and transparent walls of Camp Half-Blood, a sanctuary for the offspring of Greek Gods disguised as a harmless strawberry farm.
She'd been seven at the time of her arrival, almost eight. Now, she was twelve—turning thirteen in December, and the differentiating line between Camp Half-Blood and home had some how merged into one. The satiny lilac sheets of the cabin had replaced the Disney Princess blankets upon her bed and her days spent under the San Francisco sun, that had once been filled with the warmth of nostalgia, had been dimmed beside the jovial exhilaration graced upon her by the camp.
Days upon bustling streets with her smaller hand held tightly in her mother's had been traded for nights spent with thrilling rounds of capture the flag and toasting marshmallows around an amber campfire.
Of course she missed her mother much more than she was comfortable to admit. But things were just easier this way. Less dangerous.
And besides, Colette quite adored Camp Half-Blood as though her blood ran through the soil and her soul breached every wall. Camp was as much her home as the house where her childhood burned away was. She ravished under the eternal sunlight that blanketed over the hours of the day — unburdened by Demeter's anguish in the months of winter and autumn. Though, she couldn't deny that yearning to experience a shower of rainfall or a snowy winter was a regular occurrence within her mind.
Because, sure, camp was cool. Filled with those alike and different to herself and the activities within the community were brimming with adrenaline. But the world that lay beyond was just that: beyond. Always slipping out of reach in an endless diversionary chase, bound to win with the infuriating laughter that brushed through the large trees on the border of the camp.
Always just beyond her reach.
The thought would make her bite her tongue in frustration till her tastebuds were poisoned with the taste of metal. She wouldn't be confined here forever, she didn't need to worry about that. She'd turn thirteen, maybe fourteen and pledge herself to be forever young—a spectre of eternity encased in the crisp coolness of moonlight, destined to wander forests hand-in-hand with other maidens of youth and chastity, armed by arrows of pearly silver.
It was prophesied; predicted by her peers within the camp. It was simply who she was—who was bound to be.
Chiron, the fatherly camp activities director (who was also centaur), had furrowed his brows, believing it to the be the stir of internal debate that awoke in the council of gods above that had postponed Artemis from allowing her to join the hunters—though he was quite reluctant to say and had made it seem as a much less big of a deal than it seemed. All because, ever the emotional, Zeus had claimed that something was stolen. That something had been poached from his side and rumours had poisoned the air like teardrops of acid venom—though it was meant to be kept very private from the demigods at the camp, and the only reason Colette knew was because of the animals she interacted with. Unbeknownst to Chiron and Mr. D, animals loved to gossip.
Colette knew fully well about how temperamental some of the gods could be; holding grudges that lasted long enough to be scorched in tapestry and dripped like honey off of the tongues of poets who worshiped them.
She knew of the brewing jealousy within the gods, the heat of their ichor-filled veins that declared agony on those they held distaste for. The tale of Psyche and Eros made it clear enough not to compare anybody or claim oneself to be more attractive than the goddess of beauty, Aphrodite. And the myth of Poseidon's revenge placed upon the hero Odysseus had been warning enough not to spite a child of the big three (or at least... not to utter your name and leave the job unfinished ).
It was common knowledge amongst their demi-god descendants, insulting a god was dangerous.
Nevertheless Colette had her inquires about who the proclaimed thief could be. Of course, she wouldn't go around telling all that would listen—mostly out of anxiety that she would suffer their wrath. Though many signs, and Chiron's inspection, pointed to the thief being none other than Zeus' brother, the god of the dead Hades.
The only person she had shared her hushed thoughts with was her (very opinionated) best friend.
Colette couldn't really recall the day she had first met her closest friend within the camp, the ambitious and resourceful daughter of the goddess Athena, Annabeth Chase. Annabeth was an endlessly witty girl, always searching for more as she ached to craft and fabricate the way the Greeks had done once before—before the hands of man had disintegrated them into forgotten, scowling ruin. Her eyes twinkled with an unmatchable hue of grey, alike to the shade that spilled from the led of her worn-out pencils, and her hair bounced in gorgeous ringlets of curled blonde locks, normally held back in an unkept ponytail that allowed long strands to fall over her eyes, quite complimentary against the tenderness of her tan, sun-kissed skin. Honestly, Annabeth was quite beautiful.
Wether it was their shared eagerness to venture beyond the walls of the camp and finally receive a quest of their own, or the same thrill that coursed through their veins as they partook in a riveting game of capture the flag, Annabeth Chase and Colette Archer were attached at the hip. Where one went, the other was always one step ahead.
Due to their close-knit friendship, their current predicament occurred.
Colette was lay flat on her back which rested comfortably on the blades of grass below, her hands interlocked over her stomach and one of her propped-up knees kicking absentmindedly over the the other as she basked in the warmth of the sunlight above — definitely not hiding away from the likes of her cousins or councillors. Resting over her face, a hard-backed copy of the tale of Perseus resided, reflecting her breath in heavy echos as her eyelashes whisked against her cheeks.
Her day had begun in the same airy schedule as it had the day prior, and the day prior to that, which had led to her taking her rest just beyond the sand of the pristine beach. She debated asking one of her cousins to join her, specifically the energetic ball of glistening sunlight that took a human form by the name of Will Solace, but ultimately decided against it as she knew of majority of the Apollo cabin's endless chores within the infirmary. And though he was still quite young (a few years younger than Colette herself), Will was still one of the most talented medics within the camp walls.
So, with fulfilled chores (paid generously to the Stoll Brothers, two mischievous sons of Hermes) and no Chiron to scold her, Colette let out a breath of relaxation.
Until the weight over her eyes was removed, allowing a flood of gold to dazzle in a kaleidoscope of Apollo's sunlit glory that made her squint in surprise. She grumbled lightly, peeking open an eye as she placed a hand over her forehead, blocking out the light from her view as she squinted to see the figure above her.
Above the daughter of Artemis, Annabeth grinned a pearly smile down at the girl from where she stood, her hands on her hips and her appearance darkened by the shadow of the sun behind her. "So this is where you've been hiding out all morning. Some of the Apollo kids were looking for you... somethin' about Austin Lake picking a fight with a squirrel." The blonde taunted, her piercing eyes overcome with amusement as she gazed back down at the brunette.
Colette rolled her eyes as she moved to sit up, leaning back on her arms with a breathy groan. Honestly, she wasn't surprised. The children of Apollo, though blessed with energetic abilities pouring from the light of about a million suns, were not the brightest of demigods. Austin, another of her younger cousins, had a tendency to go above and beyond to prove himself to his older siblings. And bickering with something as small as a squirrel was no exception.
"Tell them i'm sick and it's very very contagious." Colette responded, shrugging a hand dismissively as she leaned back to lay on the grass once more.
Annabeth only smiled lazily to the girl, "already done." After a moment of quiet silence accompanied by the distant rumble of a storm no doubt caused by a furious Zeus, Annabeth's eyebrows knit together as she picked at the long blades of grass. "I thought you were meant to be helping Katie Gardner and her siblings fertilise the strawberry fields today."
Colette grimaced noticeably, and only then was Annabeth able to identify the soft tissue of darkness that festered under her eyes. "What's up with you lately? Are you sick?" Asked the blonde, an analysing expression appearing on her features as she placed the back of her hand over the brunette's forehead only to be pushed away gently, "--You forgot to help the Demeter kids, you almost fell asleep in the dining pavilion last night and don't say you didn't, 'cause you totally did! you almost let Lee beat you in archer practice, you paid the Stoll brothers to--"
"Okay, okay, you've made your point, Annie." Yawned the tired girl, "didn't know you'd taken up stalking. i don't think it's something to make a fuss over... I just keep having weird dreams is all, nothing to worry your nosey little head about." Mused the brunette, messing up the perched blonde curls of Annabeth's hair.
The blonde narrowed her gaze in thought before pushing her away lightly, lifting a hand to pull back her blonde hair into a half-assed ponytail as she spared the girl a wary look. "Weird dreams... Have you told Chiron?"
"I don't think it's that serious, An." Responded Colette. "I reckon it's just Apollo messing with me." It wouldn't surprise her if it was the golden-haired god, after all he was notorious for visiting his children through their dreams. She'd heard it well enough from Will and the other Cabin seven residents, all of which had fallen victim to having visions of their father's painfully long poems and haikus. And though she wasn't a daughter of Apollo, she could imagine the deity simply going about his day before a shit-eating grin encased his face and his eyes dazzled in childish amusement as he remembered he had a little niece he could taunt with prophecies.
And besides, it wouldn't be the first time.
At the time she'd been nine, maybe ten, and summer had hit in blistering showers of humidity. She remembered how tough it had been to sleep that night; kicking off covers, trading pyjama pants for shorts and keeping the windows open whilst laced with fly-repellent to retract bugs. And just as she'd managed to sleep, she was greeted by an all-consuming light and a very enthusiastic masculine voice.
She stood in front of him, nodding encouragingly despite not having an idea what was happening. And before her, a grinning boy stood — around the age of eighteen—with a California-kissed look of golden blonde hair and rich, tan skin. In his hands, he held two pieces of paper.
One being a light hymn about how fabulous he was, and the other being a more rock n' roll themed song about something she couldn't remember. But she remembered picking the second option and having him chuckle in amazement, ruffling the hair on her on the head whilst beaming down at her with a: 'I knew I could count on my favourite little niece!"
So she wasn't too concerned really.
After all, Apollo was the god of prophecy, and her dreams had become too frequent to become an accident caused by Hypnos or Morpheus. And with the weight of the brewing discord and mentoring the hunters, Colette knew it was silly to assume it to be Artemis.
She wasn't particularly worried about what occurred within her dreams, though curiosity did deep into her vision as she would squint her eyes at the scene before her.
"Still nothing from Artemis?" Asked Annabeth, and Colette shook her head, pursing her lips almost sadly. The blonde continued, "Maybe she thinks you're too young."
Colette glanced at her with a sigh, "Annie, there's, like, ten year olds within the hunters. I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's not that." She responded, "Chiron reckons it's whatever's going on up there." She pointed to the sky, or more specifically, Olympus.
Stupid thief.
"If you say so." Annabeth said, thoughtfully, and the brunette beside her could tell she was reluctant to drop the subject.
Plastering on a look of absent mischief, Colette leaned towards the blonde. "I'm surprised you wanna hear about this. I thought you'd wanna tell me your game plan for capture the flag, but oh, wel--"
"Oh, don't get me started." Grumbled Annabeth, her attention having been diverted onto the subject of her favourite activity. Due to majority of the Athena cabin's affinity for creating unsuspected diversions and admirable strategies, Cabin six had often found themselves as team leaders alongside the bloodthirsty children of Ares. "I had the Hephaestus kids right where I wanted them till clarisse 'I strive to ruin lives' La Rue came and promised to supply them with a month's worth of iron in return for upgraded weapons."
If there was one person who ached to bring frustration down on others, Clarisse La Rue the aggressive and arrogant daughter of Ares was the only culprit. The daughter of the war god never failed to make her lineage clear, boasting ignorantly about how divine her father was, and how divine she would one day become. And with her muscular structure and intimidating snarl, Clarisse had taken to being a negative member of the camp, always looking for newcomers to humiliate and always ripping away at other's accomplishments.
To say Clarisse La Rue was a bully would be a mockery of an understatement.
"I wish Mr. D had just left her as a jackolope." Mumbled the brunette, referencing an incident that had happened earlier in the week.
Annabeth nodded, "would've made all our lives easier. Besides," she smirked faintly, "could you imagine seeing her trying to size up some new kid whilst being half rabbit, half antelope? I'd pay good money to see that happen."
Colette chuckled lightly, "wouldn't we all?" And annabeth made of a sound of approval.
"Have you allied with the Hermes kids yet?" Inquired Colette. Though Annabeth was only twelve and by far not the oldest child of Athena within the cabin, she'd been declared head councillor given that she'd been there the longest and was probably the most resourceful of her siblings.
Annabeth suddenly sprang from her relaxed state, brushing herself off with a determined expression. "That's what I was on my way to do actually. thanks for reminding me, Collie." The blonde spared her a grin, "wanna come with?"
The brunette shook her head, "Nah, I'm probably gonna have to go make it up to Katie. I'll see you later, though." She dismissed, waving lazily to the blonde as she watched her rush away to where a smiling Luke Castellan awaited.
With a sigh she rested back on the meadow below, turning her head slightly to gaze out at the vast lake of reflective waters not far from her. The waves crashed melodically, encasing the rich particles of sand and swallowing them with their glistening aquamarine glow before retreating back to a larger body of water. It was soothing to listen to as the churn of the water splashed in the echo of the wind chimes on her Cabin porch.
She continued to sit for a moment, pondering her thoughts before she pushed herself into a standing position as annabeth had done only minutes prior. Sparing a glance back to the lake, she turned in head of the strawberry fields, where a no doubt curious Katie Gardner would be staring at her floral patterned watch, trying not to grow impatient.
Her mind travelled far, lost in the sea of understanding and curiosity. She'd debated telling Chiron about her strange occurrence of dreams, but the man had left before she could do so—apparently travelling over to an academy in search of another demigod, and as he left he had taken Grover, a jumpy yet undoubtedly loyal Satyr with him (which never failed to make her frown. Sure, Grover could be a little overbearing at times, but he was good company when tending to the animals within the camp.) And she wouldn't dream of confiding in Mr. D, who throughout the course of Greek mythology had been known as Dionysus, the god of wine and pleasure. Having pined unknowingly after one of Zeus' favourite nymphs, the king of the gods had sentenced Dionysus to a painful amount of time confined in the camp as camp director.
It's wasn't as though she didn't like Mr. D, though he did have a tendency to call her Nicole rather than Colette. If anything, she thought he was quite alright — alright meaning he hadn't scolded her when she turned Clarisse into a jackalope for a day and had instead actually cackled in amusement.
But he wasn't the most sympathetic of gods, nor would he provide any sort of answer for her weird scheme of dreams.
Her dreams had begun soon after the night of the winter solstice, the day the world had seemed to turn upside down. Storms grew thicker, poisoning the air in suffocating blankets of rolling thunder that struck the atmosphere, and tension between the gods had tightened like the elastic of a band, applying more and more pressure until it snapped and allowed a flood of rage to spill through. Though the dreams had faded for a while before returning full swing at the start of spring.
What was worse was that their indecipherable connotations seemed lost in the shadow of a Minotaur horn and a head of shaggy raven hair. It was always the same; the storm on the beach and the boy with the Minotaur horn. At least... she thought they were a boy, his physique indicated such yet every time she reached out to him or he turned back to her, he disintegrated into nothing more than a mist of darkness that left her waking up with a jolt.
And though she would dismiss those who asked, she ached to know why. Why did the boy have a minotaur horn? Why was Zeus' anger building frighteningly? Why had she not heard at all from Artemis?
It was all a waiting game of reason.
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MAYBE IT WAS HIS OWN DISLIKE FOR THE MAN, but for the will of his life Percy Jackson could just not understand the reason why his mother would ever marry a man as grotesque as Gabriel 'Gabe' Ugliano.
He knew, despite only being twelve, there was no possible way his hatred towards his step-father could simply be the resentment that brew at the thought of a third member of the household that wasn't his biological father. Gabe was a selfish man, always had been and always would be, that much was clear in the vibrantly green eyes of Percy Jackson.
With his unkept physique and volatile smell of outdated garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts, Gabe Ugliano was just about as ugly as his last name. He had all about three strands of hair on his dry scalp, all combed back in a poor attempt to make himself appear more handsome as he took a large swig of his beer followed by a cough of his burning cigarette. Given his sickening smell and appearance, Percy had taken to calling him Smelly Gabe when he was younger, and he still continued to do so behind the man's back.
Gabe didn't deserve Sally Jackson, nobody did. Sally was like the warmth of snuggling in front of a fireplace in the midst of winter, hot cocoa warm in your hands and a red and black checkered blanket thrown over your shoulders. She was the personified figure of familiarity in the awakening of dawn, constant and always glowing with a tender smile. She was too good for this world, and Percy couldn't understand why the earth couldn't adore her as much as he did.
He also couldn't understand why she was so adamant on Gabe being in their lives.
He wondered what it'd been like if his father were still around to look after them instead of leaving them to suffer under Gabe's unloving care. Percy couldn't remember his father, for all he knew the man was long gone and buried though his mother would always remind him that his father, whoever he was, had been lost at sea.
Not dead, lost at sea.
But still Percy couldn't grasp the concept of the man ever having the courage to leave behind a woman such as Sally Jackson. She was effortless in her care, sowing beads of love into all of her actions and treating her son with the utmost adoration despite his troublemaking behaviour. Sally Jackson was almost too good to be true — an angel in the form of his mother. Her hair fell in soft locks of tousled brown, interlocked with faint streaks of grey that dipped between the curls of her hair that contrasted to the waterfall of blue that embraced her irises, changing in the sunlight to a softer shade. She was beautiful—strikingly beautiful, and Percy believed she deserved somebody as strikingly beautiful as herself.
but wouldn't it be better if it was just the two of them again? He knew it was hard for his mother dealing with a son who suffered from both ADHD and dyslexia, not to mention who had a streak of causing trouble and getting expelled from over six schools in under six years — Yancy Academy being the latest of the list.
He thought back to the school, back to the events that had occurred inside the museum. It made him frown in frustration as he recalled how both his best (and only) friend Grover and favourite teacher Mr. Brunner had brushed him off so easily, treating him like a child who had told some unbelievable story in hopes that somebody would believe him. Because Percy jackson was certainly not crazy, he knew what he saw and wouldn't be persuaded otherwise. He shivered as he recalled how Mrs. Dodds, his pre-algebra teacher had asked to speak to him alone, only for her skin to stretch and shrivel into a nauseating grey as two large and leathery bat wings broke free from the prison of her back, and she snarled at him in demand of something he couldn't understand. Then, Mr. Brunner had passed him a goddamn pen that had transformed into a freaking sword and he had somehow used to vaporise his pre-algebra teacher!
His skin shivered at the thought.
He scowled faintly as he watched Gabe lug down his mother's bags towards their car, the mother and son duo having decided to leave for a small trip to Montauk without the pressure of the man lingering over them. The journey to Montauk was dripping in nostalgia, fractures of forgotten memories and happiness reappearing in the reflection of his mother's bright eyes. New York may've been overrun by Gabe's gambling and the suffocating grip of cigarette smoke, but Montauk — montauk was theirs.
He felt himself ease into the reminiscence of when it had simply been just the two of them, free from Gabe's nasty clutches. Upon arriving at montauk, sunset had taken rest over the horizon, coating the skyline in a flaming amber and gold and the two found themselves lost in their blissfulness, strolling along the beach before sufficing their hunger on a boatload of blue candy and marshmallows by a crackling fire.
From where they sat, side by side and chewing on their individual bags of blue jellybeans, Percy turned to his mother whilst mustering up the courage to ask about what had always been on his mind as they busted montauk. His father.
"He was kind, Percy," she reminisced softly. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes." She fished a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy. He would be so proud."
Percy's eyebrows creased as he looked to his own bag of sweets in thought. He wondered how she could think so much of him, as though he was an angel who could do no wrong. What was so great about him? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of school for the sixth time in six years.
"How old was I?" Pondered Percy after a thoughtful moment of silence. "I mean ... when he left?"
Sally exchanged her gaze to the fire before her, her maternal gaze locked tightly onto the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."
"But... he knew me as a baby."
Sally frowned softly, though it didn't seem burdened with sadness but rather with fondness. "No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."
Percy grew quiet again for a few moments, his mind tracing and fantasising any sort of imagine he could grasp onto of his father. He remembered... something. A glow, so warm and homely that it warmed his chest like the flames of the fires in front of him. He frowned as he took in his mother's words — he'd always believed his father had seen him at least once, but to now know that his father had never even met him... he scowled in resentment of the man.
"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy inquired quietly. "To another boarding school?"
The woman pulled a marshmallow from the fire before replying gently, "I don't know, honey." Her voice was heavy. "I think ... I think we'll have to do something."
"Because you don't want me around?" Percy's words brought forth a frown in Sally's expression, and he felt regret flood through his bloodstream in a tsunami of melancholiness.
Sally's sapphire-coloured eyes welled with tears. He felt the soft warmth of her hand envelope his, her thumb brushing against the skin of the back of his as she squeezed it tightly. "Oh, Percy, no. I—I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away." Her words reminded him of what his teacher, Mr. Brunner had said—that it was best for him to leave Yancy.
"Because I'm not normal," grumbled Percy, his jaw clenched as he bit back a scowl. An indescribable annoyance spilled through his eyes, not directed to his mother but rather to himself. What could've made him so unnatural that his mother couldn't even keep him around?
"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy." Sally's expression grew saddened by the look upon her son's face, "--But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe."
"Safe from what?"
She met his curious gaze, and a flood of memories came back to the raven-haired boy—all the weird, scary things that had occurred within his childhood that had left their scar within his mind before falling into nothingness, forgotten until the very moment he grew to recall them. Until now. The man in a black trench coat who had stalked Percy from the playground of his school in third grade, only turning away after being threatened with the police. Yet nobody had believed Percy when he claimed the man only had one eye on the middle of his forehead. Another memory flashed through his mind, back to a much earlier time where his mother had picked him up from pre-school, screaming when she noticed the limp, scaly rope snake that was in Percy's cot, the boy having somehow managed to strangle the creature with his small baby hands. In all his schools, something had happened.
He debated telling his mother about Mrs. Dodds, or the old ladies at the fruit stand, but had quietly decided against it — fearful it would end their trip.
"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," explained Sally. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you. And I just... I just can't stand to do it."
"My father wanted me to go to a special school?" Percy guessed, his eyebrows raised in question as he glanced to his mother.
"Not a school," she said softly. "A summer camp."
Percy's head swirled with nausea, a heavy breath escaping his lips as he replayed his mother's words like a broken record that ceased to come to a stop. A summer camp, that's really where his father wanted him to go?
"I'm sorry, Percy," her voice trembled, seeing the look in her son's eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I—I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."
"For good? But if it's only a summer camp ..." his voice faded into silence, his words dying on his tongue.
She turned toward the fire, and he knew from her expression that if he asked her any more questions she would start to cry. Instead, the two grew fond of the silence, lulling away to the essence of sleep before any more words could be shared.
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PERCY WOKE WITH A JOLT, the shiver of his dreams painting his body in a tremor of prickly goosebumps up and along his arms. He brushed off the thought of his dream, his eyes squinting in the darkness as he pushed away the thought of the vicious eagle's beak aiming down upon the horse's wide eyes.
A roar of thunder lingered outside the window, slamming trees harshly against the glass as though something was trying to break the serenity inside the house. A gasp followed the sound, his mother's eyes wide in surprise as she groggily took notice to her surroundings, "hurricane." She mumbled in realisation.
Percy raised a surprised eyebrow. Long Island had never seen hurricanes so early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, Percy's ears registered a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made his hair stand on end. Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice—someone yelling, pounding on the cabin door.
Sally sprang from her place, her nightgown trailing after her airily as she opened the lock on the door, revealing a terribly out-of-breath Grover Underwood. Except... he didn't look like himself. He heaved, "Searching all night! What were you thinking?"
The woman turned to Percy in terror, her expression pale and her eyes wide as though her son had just confessed to murder. "Percy," she demanded, her voice raised to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?
Percy stilled noticeably, his mouth agape yet no words dared to be uttered. His gaze turned to Grover, his expression morphed into perplexity as he stared at his older friend. "O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" Grover yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"
His greek curse grew muffled against the thumping of Percy's heartbeat, the Jackson boy's eyes continuing to burn holes into where Grover's pants should've covered his legs, but instead, his legs resembled that of a goats. Though her son was lost in shock, Sally was quick to dart closer to him, "Percy. Tell me now!" Her voice was sharper than Percy had ever heard it.
He stammered out something along the lines of Mrs. Dodds, the museum and the women at the fruit stand, and all Sally could do was stare in utter horror, her face void of warmth as she looked ready to sprint out the door into the blackness of the night and never return. She ran to grab her purse, tossing Percy a rain jacket that he was barely about to catch before sending a sharp order to the two boys, "get in the car! Both of you. Go!"
The two didn't need to be told twice — well, Grover didn't, Percy seemed a lot more resistant though he never doubted his mother's orders, especially under her terrified expression. Yet Percy felt himself grow cold as he finally realised why Grover could run fast yet still limp slow. Because where his feet should've been, there were cloven hooves.
The rain splattered cruelly against the windscreen of the car, cackling with the sharp sizzle of thunder that stormed over the skies ahead. From where he sat beside Grover, Percy continued to sit pale, a permanent frown laced onto his lips as he wondered wether he'd actually lost his mind.
The only words that dark-haired boy was able to mutter was a fearful, "So, you and my mom... know each other?"
Grover's brown eyes shook as he spared a look to the rear view mirror before responding, "Not exactly," he replied, one of his legs shaking with the anxiety of somebody who was being chased by a lion. And looking back on it, Percy wished it was a lion. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."
"Watching me?"
Grover winced at how it sounded, quick to explain, "Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily, his eyes wide as he appeared almost fearful of how Percy would perceive him. "I am your friend."
"Urn ... what are you, exactly?"
"That doesn't matter right now."
"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey—"
"Blaa-ha-ha!" Percy's eyes grew wide at the inhuman sound that escaped Grover's throat, a sound that could only be uttered by that of an animal. Sure, Percy had heard it before, but that was assuming it was a nervous laugh. But now he really realised how animalistic the throaty sound was. "Goat!" He was quick to correct with an offended squint of his eyes, "I'm a goat from the waist down!"
Percy looked at him, his eyes narrowed and his jaw falling slack. "You just said it didn't matter!"
"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!" Grover scolded, shaking his head as though Percy had wished death upon his whole family.
The car carried on dangerously down the murky road, a suffocating chill coating their spines as they conversed about what had truly happened at the museum — about what could and couldn't be shared and the final crumble that had finally been deep enough to crack the foundation Percy's life had been built on, sending it spiralling into madness as the car passed by a 'pick your own strawberries!' Sign on a white picket fence.
The summer camp. The one Percy's father wanted him to be sent to.
"Those weren't old ladies," Grover corrected, once Percy had made a sharp pass at how ridiculous it was that the remaining two were frightened by such. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means—the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to..." Grover paused, realising his mistake, "--when someone's about to die."
Percy glowered at him in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger at the satyr as he replayed his words. "Whoa. You said 'you.'"
"No I didn't. I said 'someone.'"
"You meant 'you.' As in me."
"I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you."
Finally Sally interrupted with a shriek, "Boys!" She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and Percy's eyes dared to narrow upon a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid—a dark fluttering shape now lost behind them in the storm. Fearful, Percy demanded an explanation only to be met with his mother's pleas of a repetitive 'please.'
A minute passed by at most, grasped in the grip of anticipation and adrenaline until a blazing flash resounded from the vehicle, met with a ferocious boom as the car flipped onto it's side, rattling the occupants into a state of trepidation. For a moment, Percy was sure the car had exploded in a fiery graveyard of smoke. Placing an aching hand to his forehead, Percy let out a small groan as his head thumped at the collision with the back of the driver's seat. "Percy!" He registered his mother's shout.
"I'm okay." He wasn't sure he was. But he was alive, and that's what he was forced to repeat to himself. He glanced back to the windows, noticing that the car had swerved into a ditch rather than exploded, but the roof had closed in on itself and allowed teardrops of rain to leak into the car like acid drops of tar. Lightning. That's what had hit the car.
Turning to his, now half-conscious, best friend, Percy's eyes grew wide at Grover's bloodied lip and dazed expression, the satyr whining about his need for food as he lay slumped in his seat. "Percy," his mother yelled once more, "we have to..." Her voice faded as they turned to witness the harsh rumbles of something lethal emerging towards them, dragging itself through the rain in search of the vehicle — in search of them.
"Percy," Sally shivered, her expression holding nothing but a seriousness that he hadn't seen before. "Get out of the car." Without a second thought, the woman threw herself against the driver's-side door. It was jammed shut due to the affects of the mud, as was the one beside her son. He looked up desperately at the hole in the roof. It might've been an exit, but the edges were sizzling and smoking and left Percy with churning anxiety.
"What?"
Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof Percy witnessed the large tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill, looking and standing protectively against trespassers.
"That's the property line," Sally gulped. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."
"Mom, you're coming too." Percy interjected, though his mother only shook her head back at him. Her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.
"Climb out the passenger's side!" She ordered desperately, her teeth clenched in discomfort. "Percy—you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"
"No!" Percy shouted. "You are coming with me. Help me carry Grover." He pleaded, gesturing down to the satyr who continued to groan hopelessly about food.
The ground thumped as the creature stalked closer, surrounding them like a predator would it's prey, and in the midst of the forest, Percy felt like nothing more than that. Prey for the creature, with the horns far too big for it's head, to devour.
"He doesn't want us," she choked on a breath. "He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."
Percy was quick to try and make an argument against his mother, "But..."
However, Sally continued to plead with her son to leave, to run as fast as his legs would carry him and to never look back. But Percy Jackson was stubborn and deadly loyal, so he grit his teeth whilst ambition seeped into his gaze, and he pushed open the door on Grover's side of the car before ordering his mother to journey with him. Surprisingly, Grover wasn't as heavy as Percy anticipated, yet with his mother rushing over to drape one of the satyr's arms over her shoulders, Percy knew the help was necessary to escape the clutches of the bull-like creature.
With a sharp glance back, Percy's face fell as he was given a clear shot of the creature. Seven feet tall and his body amplified in muscle that Percy didn't think was possible for a human to adorn. Two black and white horns picked through the skin of his head, resembling that of the devil as he looked closer, the thick fur of his upper body doused in rainwater yet he never slowed, his dark gaze malicious as it blazed back at the boy. And his snout, which was about as long as Percy's arm, was home to a brass ring. Whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn't human.
And then it dawned on him. It wasn't human at all. "That's—"
"Pasiphae's son," Sally was quick to intervene with her son's astonished statement. "I wish I'd known how badly they want to kill you."
"But he's the Min—"
"Don't say his name," she interjected once more, her voice low in warning as she spared a shaky glance over her shoulder at the beast. "Names have power." She stated, and once Percy questioned why the bull-like creature had taken to inspecting the car rather than turning to them, she responded quickly, "His sight and hearing are terrible — he goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."
As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop, the gas tank exploding in a range of ambers and golds.
Not a scratch, Percy remembered Gabe saying.
"Percy," Sally glanced tiredly to her panicked son. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way— directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"
Percy's eyes pierced her own with surprise, raindrops pouring over his skin and creating an almost teardrop-like affect on his cheeks, "How do you know all this?"
Sally glanced down, guilt consuming her in waves that threatened to drag her out to a sea of anguish, "I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me."
"Keeping me near you? But—"
Another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tromping uphill, his abnormally large nose having tracked their scent. The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn't getting any lighter for the duo, who's arms had begun to ache with the weight of his body.
Sally let out a pained grunt, exhaustion burdening her features though he continued to push forward as she snapped, "Go, Percy! Separate! Remember what I said."
Percy frowned reluctantly but didn't make any move to argue, instead separating from his mother as he grew aware of the beast's dark eyes narrowing on him. The monster lowered his head and charged, his razor-sharp horns aimed straight at Percy's chest. And thought fear froze his veins, Percy lunged to the side as the beast dived for him.
The bull roared in frustration, choosing to terrorise Sally instead — the woman having been lowering Grover to the ground before she turned to acknowledge the beast. The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing the boy's mother, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover. "Run, Percy!" she ordered frightfully. "I can't go any farther. Run!"
But Percy didn't move, frozen in utter horror as he watched the monster close in on his mother, who attempted to sidestep as Percy had done, yet the beast was quicker—wrapping a furry hand around her neck. He lifted her high, her legs kicking and pummelling the air to no avail. Percy called for her as his muscles aches to chase after her, yet she only managed one final word for her son, "Go!"
Then she was gone. Dissolved like grains of sand discarded on an idle beach. Gone. She melted into nothing more liquified gold, her body turning into nothingness before she vanished as though she'd never been there at all.
"No!" Percy's gaze, once filled with dread, had now been blinded with anguish. He snarled as he watched the monster round on Grover, inspecting him as he reached towards the unconscious Satyr. Percy couldn't simply allow that, instead ripping off his red rain coat and dangling it in the bull's line of sight before calling out to him loudly.
The idea in Percy's head, the mildly stupid one, had occurred faster than he could've blinked. The monster had rushed to him, and he had now somehow ended up on it's hairy neck. And before the boy could gain control, the Minotaur slammed into the tree, almost knocking Percy out like Grover had been — who now started groaning once more about food, and Percy had the urge to scream at the boy to 'Shut up!'
The bull pawed at the ground again, ready to swallow Grover whole as though he were a piece of stake. It angered Percy to no end, his frustration building in waves, in floods, in whirlpools of despair that forced him to reach forward, grabbing the creature by one of it's hard horns and pulling backwards with all his might. The monster grunted in annoyance, tension noticeably building befo—snap!
An excruciated wail of inexplicable pain pierced through the atmosphere (and unbeknownst to Percy, alerting a young brunette who paused from her place on the porch steps, glancing into the darkness apprehensively before continuing in.) and Percy was suddenly thrown towards the awaiting ground below, his head smashing hard against a rounded rock. Yet as he glanced down, his vision blurry and his hearing muffled, he felt the weight of a horn in his hands.
The horn of a Minotaur.
It charged towards him again, heaving with vengeance as it crashed down on him, ready to rip him apart with it's giant, foaming mouth, until another streak of pain appeared under it's ribs. Percy had stabbed it with it's own horn. The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate—not like Percy's mother had done in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.
The monster was gone.
The rain had stopped as though it had only chosen to stay for entertainment and was now bored at the lack of such. The storm still rumbled on, but only in the distance. Percy grimaced as he welcomed the scent of livestock that stained his clothes and his knees were shaking, threatening to give way at any moment. He honestly felt the urge to cry, to lay down on the floor and sob for the warmth of his mother's comfort. But he couldn't (though tears did pour along his cheeks), not whilst he had Grover thrown half over his shoulder, the two of them stumbling into the camp.
As he stumbled up onto the porch steps of the house, his legs gave way painfully and allowed himself and Grover to fall flat onto the wooden porch below. And though his consciousness dared to disperse at any given moment, Percy found himself staring into the eyes of a familiar bearded man and a pretty girl no older than himself. They spared each other a glance before the girl inched closer to him, kneeling down with a gaze of curiosity as she inspected him, and had he had more energy he may've thought to care about his shaggy appearance.
"It's him, Chiron. The boy." He heard her say, her face graced in surprise. "I know it is."
The mans stern gaze landed on her before falling back to Percy, "Quiet, Colette. He's still conscious, bring him inside."
And then it was darkness.
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( authors note ) :
this actually took so much longer than I expected tbh I've had it written for almost two weeks now but there's something I don't really like about it. Maybe cause it's like 2/3 Percy and it was meant to be 2/3 Colette but I had a section I didn't like so.
I've written up to chapter three by now (which I actually like the next two chapters a lot more than this one) cause I'm real excited to get into the main plot and I was gonna publish chapter 1 & 2 at the same time but decided not to cause I've still gotta edit it
Idk why I was so anxious to publish this but we move :)
thanks for reading <3
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