DISCLAIMER: Percy Jackson and the Olympians is the rightful property of Rick Riordan.
ORIGINAL DATE: 06/12/2014(?)
SYNOPSIS: "Jason," she said seriously. "Staplers are not for eating. We don't eat staples. Don't ever do that again!" Thalia promises to protect her brother from what can hurt him, even himself.
FEATURED CHARACTERS: Thalia Grace, Jason Grace, Beryl Grace, Zeus/Jupiter
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Due to my original account being closed (see main profile for more details), I have elected to re-upload this story on my new account.
~o~
THALIA & JASON
That's Not Food, Little Brother!
~o~
The fire crackled cheerfully within the fireplace with its 'cracks!' and its 'pops!' and its intense dance of flames across the chopped firewood. Its warm, golden glow cast itself across the gleaming, pale wooden floors to the soft white carpets and glass center table, to the cream seating and beyond to the open glass walls overlooking the ocean, where the waves crashed rhythmically against the snowy sand under the inky night sky.
The stench of cigarette smoke wafted up from the crystal ashtray glimmering near the edge of the glass table, next to the porcelain plate of half-eaten chocolate strawberries and a tall bottle of red wine. Slumped in the comfy armchair, amass with the shadows of the darkening night, was a willowy woman, deeply asleep from her own, self-indulgent drunkenness. Her hand was loosely clasped around the stem of a glass of half-finished wine, and its rim was stained with crimson lipstick and clumsy fingerprints.
The woman barely moved an inch in her doozy state, completely unaware of the young girl in dark blue pajamas standing in the doorway. For such a young child, her lovely blue eyes were filled with sadness and bitterness as she watched the woman sleep, casting her long blonde hair across her shoulders to tangle with the odd silver sequins in her crimson dress.
The time passed in its tedious moments as the minute hand trailed its way from one number to another on the clock. Finally, the young girl sighed and moved forward with silent, passive steps until she stood next to the glass table. She grabbed the cigarette on the crystal ashtray, still alight, and pressed it down with the required amount of force for it to extinguish. Then she picked up the plate and the bottle of wine and left the room.
'Every night,' she thought as she quietly walked through the hallways, where photographs and posters of the blonde woman adorned the walls in various poses and attires, showing off her beautiful 'look at me!' smile, sparkling blue eyes that hinted of mischief beneath the soul, and immensely attractive figure for all to see, in envy and lust.
The girl never batted an eyelash toward them as she entered the kitchen, with its expensive appliances and designer styling, so vast and shining in the artificial lighting. With annoyance and shame building in her chest, the young girl dropped the still edible chocolate covered strawberries into a clean container and stuffed it in the refrigerator, shivering as a wave of cold overwhelmed her before the door slammed shut.
Leaving the wine bottle on the gleaming tabletop, she hurried out of the room and up the curved stairway, sure as not to fall down as she hunted for her mother's room, where she picked out a warm blanket. She hurried back downstairs to where her mother slept and, without waking her, draped the blanket over her sleeping figure. She glanced down at the wine glass still contained within her mother's grasp. Should she take that away as well? What if her mother moved and knocked it over?
She could not even attempt it.
Just as she lifted her small fingers to pry it from her mother's cold, well-manicured crimson-nailed hand, a loud cry echoed through the ceiling, causing the girl to jump in fright. Her eyes snapped towards the ceiling, and as if she could see through it, her skin went pale as another cry rang out. The ceiling lights around her flickered dangerously.
"Jason," she whispered, terror building up inside her.
Without another word, she raced out of the room, her mother still fast sleep in her drunken stupor. Thalia Grace grasped on tightly to the railing as she ran up the staircase, slipping only once along the way, before racing along the hallway to the room at the very end.
The door was open. She pushed it in, panic rising within her when she realized that the little bed beyond the scattered toys on the floor was empty.
'Where is he? Where IS he?' she thought hysterically. "Jason!"
Another wail rang out from another room further down the hallway. Without hesitation, Thalia burst into the room from which Jason's little voice could be heard, and found him sitting on the ground in front of the desk—
Thalia froze for a split second upon the realization of where she was—in the room that she has sworn never to enter again: her father's study. It was the room her mother had made up for him as if he always lived with them from the beginning—as if he wasn't the sort of person to leave them without another word, as he had only months ago. Thalia's legs trembled at the memory of him, of his stern, stormy gray eyes and his deep, commanding voice that sent the slightest chills of fear across her skin and to her blood, even if its words were dealt with affection. She would have backed out of the room had she not heard his little voice.
"Talie?"
Her anger and pain subsided as her wide blue eyes fell back to the little toddler sitting on the cold, hard floor in front of the hardwood desk, staring up at her with his watery blue eyes. They glimmered with pain and his own little innocence that melted her heart.
"Jason."
That was all it took for her to run to him, to find out what was wrong. Was he hurt? What was he doing in this room? Didn't their mother always keep it locked? Thalia's eyes quickly spotted the object in her brother's chubby hand: a stapler. That's when she noticed the small spots of blood on his light blue pajamas and his other hand gripping at something in his mouth.
Thalia gasped in alarm. Jason had stapled his upper lip!
"Jason, what are you doing?!" she half-screamed at him, wrenching the stapler out of his grasp, tossing it up onto the table where he couldn't reach it and shoved his little hand aside so he wouldn't aggravate his lips any longer. Scooping him up into her arms, and hurried to the kitchen, where she was sure a first-aid kit was stashed in one of the cupboards.
"What were you thinking? A stapler, Jason? That's not food! What were you doing out of bed? What…" Thalia's questions rambled off her tongue in a shaky, high-pitched manner of a young girl forced to grow up faster than necessary, of a child who had to be an adult. Jason's little voice trembled with fear as his sister reprimanded him for his ignorance, but the pain above his mouth was all he could think about, and all he could do was cry.
Thalia snatched the first-aid kit from its resting place and sat down with Jason, who had reached his hand to his mouth, probably ready to tug the uncomfortable offender from his lip, until Thalia grabbed is hand.
"Don't touch!" she said sternly. Jason's eyes shone with hurt, both from his mistake and the harshness of her words. Thalia sighed. "Just stay still, okay?"
Tears leaked out of Jason's eyes and Thalia opened the kit and went to work. He clutched at her ankle as she tried to remove the staple in his lip—and let out a high-pitch wail the minute he felt it move!
"Jason!" Thalia picked him up and hugged him, her heart breaking at the sound of his distress. "I know it hurts! But I need to get it out!"
Jason's voice lowered, but he was still too afraid. He lifted his hands to his mouth as if to shield it from Thalia, but she shook her head. She rubbed his back to soothe him and something clenched inside her. She shouldn't have had to do this. Something like this—Thalia glanced towards the living room where her mother slept away, completely useless.
'That woman,' Thalia thought bitterly. She had never been the same once Thalia and Jason's father had left.
Anything that Thalia and Jason needed, Thalia had to do herself now because all their mother could do was moan and rant at the sky every day and night, to the man above who abandoned them. What did it matter that he was a god? He was a father, wasn't he? Didn't he have responsibilities? Should he not have stayed? He abandoned them without a word, and because of it, a mother abandoned her will to care for her own children. Jason was injured! Their mother should be here to look after him!
Thalia growled lightly as she clutched her brother closer to her chest. 'I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry,' she chanted to herself as the emotions welled inside her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, too, at the sky where her father resided, at her mother for being a useless drunk, at being unable to do anything normal like other children who had their own families!
'I have to be strong for Jason,' she thought, fighting with every fiber within her to defeat the oncoming tears in her eyes. 'He needs me. I'm all he has.'
Thalia held onto that thought. That was her strength: her little brother who squirmed in her tight grip. She gazed down at him, staring right into his eyes, and found the courage to smile.
"Come on," she said gently, forcing the tremor in her voice to settle down. "You're my brave man, Jason. It'll be okay."
She tried his tears away with her thumbs and gazed down at the staple protruding through his skin. Gently, she placed one finger in his mouth, under where the staple had forced its way through and sighed with relief. It had hardly bent and it barely made it through.
"Alright, Jason?" Jason stared at her. "I'm going to take the staple out. It's gonna hurt. But I'll be quick, kay?" Jason trembled so Thalia held him closer. "Do you trust me?"
Jason's wide, innocent eyes blinked away a few fresh tears. "I chus you, Talie," he said in a small, cracked voice.
Thalia nodded. "Okay. On three?" She grasped the open end of the staple between her fingers and held on tightly. Jason's eyes narrowed with the sting of it. "One… two… three…"
She gave it a swift tug and it was free of the little wound it made on the poor child's mouth.
Jason's eyes widened with the shock of the staple being yanked out—that was until the stinging came. A fresh round of tears plummeted down his cheeks and he made a small noise at the back of his throat. Thalia clutched him closer as he began to wail again. She let him. He cried and cried as she held him, his hand reaching to his mouth, but every time he touched it, he pushed his own hand away from the burning sensation it caused him.
It felt like he was crying for the both of them.
The minutes passed and all Thalia could hear was Jason's wails above the distant sound of crashing waves on the beach. Tears crept up in Thalia's eyes as she held him, but she quickly brushed them away, ashamed of herself. Their mother never appeared to investigate; she must have been too far gone to notice the sound of her own child in distress.
"I'm sorry," Thalia whispered to him. "I'm sorry, Jason."
That quieted him down again. The two siblings sat together on the cold floor. Thalia stared at the little kid next to her, at the pictures on the walls and the empty room in general. They were a rich family, who owned so much, but it was all empty and squandered. Her life had been dull and gray for as long as she could remember. Everywhere she went in this place, just empty room and empty walls came to greet her. Her own mother wouldn't look at her and went day and night to parties and clubs, leaving Thalia alone with a sitter who didn't even remember her name.
Then Jason came, and something was born inside her, something that warmed her heart and gave her a reason to be excited in the morning. Love. Love for something so pure and innocent as her little brother Jason. He was all that mattered to her now. She fed him. She bathed him. She read him stories out of his favorite children's books. She tucked him in a night. She taught him the best she could. She played with him so they were never bored. She did everything a parent should do for him, and for her as well.
She hated her father for leaving. Her mother was gone because of him. The only good thing he ever gave her was Jason and that was all she was ever grateful for. Whenever her mother screamed at her, with the occasional slap that sent the fear of gods into her, Thalia was only reminded of what a freaky girl she was. The lights would flicker and even go out. Her skin would crack with thin threads of electricity, and her mother could only glare at her with disgust.
But not Jason.
He laughed and clapped when the lights flickered, and he could do it, too. With him, she wasn't alone or ashamed to be different. Other children could leave the house and play, but her mother worried about her unnaturalness in public and never let her leave the house. She was even sure the paparazzi didn't know of her existence. With Jason, there was someone who never judged her.
"Talie?" Jason squeaked in a wobbly voice.
Thalia smiled at him with quivering lips; he had stopped crying. "Why don't we bandage this, kay?"
She set off to work with shaky hands, dabbing at the blood until he was all wiped away before adding a liquid she knew would prevent infection—and naturally, Jason made a fuss at the sting—before finally putting on the Band-Aid.
"There!" she said once she was done. Jason sniffled. "Don't worry, my brave guy. It'll heal."
Thalia packed up the kit and slipped it back into its cupboard before scooping her brother back up into her arms.
"Jason," she said seriously. "Staplers are not for eating. We don't eat staples. Don't ever do that again! Do you understand me?"
Tired from crying and his mouth hanging open to reveal a few of his milk teeth, Jason nodded and rested his head against her shoulder. Somehow, he fell asleep. The swirling tornado of emotions inside her—frustration, aggravation, and relief—finally began to settle as she carried Jason up to his room. She felt the tiny flutter of his heartbeat against her and smiled. He was going to be okay. She knew it. Just as she got the top of the staircase, she froze at a new sound that echoed from below.
It was a piercing, delicate Crash!
The wine glass had broken. She was sure of it. From below, she heard the startled sound of her mother's voice morph into fury and confusion and she raised her voice and yelled at nothing as if everything else in the world was to blame for whatever discomfort that had just laid itself upon her.
"Thalia! Thalia! Where's my wine! You better not be drinking that!" Her mother was a loud slur, disgusting and weak.
Thalia rolled her eyes and continued to walk to Jason's room, ignoring her mother's calls. As if she wanted to drink wine, seeing what it did to the only adult in the house. She closed the door to Jason's room and with the guidance of the silvery full moonlight through the window, she made her way to Jason's bed without stepping on his toys. The last thing she needed was to hurt her feet and drop him.
Jason's hand automatically grabbed onto his blanket as Thalia settled him down into his bed. Her own weariness was catching up to her as she watched him sleep. To think that only minutes ago, he was wide awake and in tears. She smiled and brushed a few of his short blond locks away from his forehead with gentle affection.
"I'm right here, Jason," she whispered, tucking his blanket over his shoulder to shield him from the cold. "I'll protect you. I promise. I'll never leave you alone."
She lay down at the side of his bed and watched him sleep. The tears had dried and his breathing had eased. She stayed until her eyelids drooped and sent her into a slumber, her head resting on her arm and her light snores bristling the hairs on Jason's head. Down below, their mother had fallen back to sleep from her own pitiful stupor. The fireplace crackled with its cheery flames until they died away, leaving the room cold and lonely.
Time ticked away as the moon shimmered in the night sky. The night was cold with the approaching winter, with the special sound of silence that only night could emit, and for a while, all was still as time passed away.
Thalia eventually began to slip off of Jason's bed, bit by bit until the bed could hold her no longer. With a slight turn, she rolled over and fell from the bed—
—into the arms of a strong man. Thalia, undisturbed from her dreams, slept on, completely unaware of what was happening in the waking world.
Jupiter stared down at the young girl in his arms with regretful amusement hidden in his eyes. She had gone through so much to care for his son, and she, the daughter of his other half, had no real idea of what her promise was bound to cause. He glanced at the little blond toddler dozing in his bed and his eyes gleamed with pride. Then, with the grace of an immortal god, he left the room with soundless footsteps and closed the door behind him without so much as touching it.
As Jupiter tucked Thalia into her own bed, he felt a pain stir up in his chest. He backed away from the sleeping child, his hand clutching at his clean-cut suit before his body morphed in the flash of an eye. Standing at the foot of the step, adjusting his dark tie with efficient, noble superiority, stood Zeus, gazing down at his daughter with his own pride, never uttering a word until he disappeared into the night, thinking of her words.
I'll protect you. I promise. I'll never leave you alone.
It troubled him to think that, regardless of her intentions, such a promise could not be fulfilled, not between a Greek and a Roman who loved each other so much, in spite of their own ignorance.
The world they knew would never allow it. It was a promise destined to be broken.
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Original Author's Note:
I remember that a while back—after writing my 'Nico and Hades' and 'Percy and Poseidon' stories—that I got a request or two to do a 'Thalia and Zeus' story. Unfortunately, I never got the inspiration for it. The reason why? I just don't like Zeus. I'm sorry, but I don't. I'd contemplated a few plots before, but none of them stuck or really made me want to write anything.
Then today, I was on Tumblr, just scrolling around and I find this drawing from "Minuiko" about Thalia and Jason, and that got the ideas going a bit. I can't really think up much for Zeus, though. I guess I was more inspired for Hades and Poseidon because they were present more than Zeus's character, and I could think of something better for them. I guess I'll have to see if that inspiration ever comes. You'd think Ares was my least liked Olympian…
Song of the Chapter: The Pretty Reckless – Under the Water. (The rhythm of the song inspired my mood).
This is what happens when I write at one o'clock in the morning. Even when I tried to think of a Thalia and Zeus story, I always ended up thinking of a Thalia, Jason and Zeus/Jupiter thing, but I just couldn't make ends meet.
For anyone who doesn't know the artist I mentioned before, here's a link to the drawings that I spoke about:
.com./post/ - 65172378220/ - jason-and-thalia#notes-container
You can just edit the link where it's appropriate.
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Ciao for now,
~ .Isis.13