Disclaimer-I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, nor any characters
Also, dialogue lines are for the most part taken directly from The Last Olympian
Written for round three of the Capture the Flag Competition in Percy Jackson Fanfiction Challenges
He knows this isn't going to go well. The roar of the ship echoes in Beckendorf's ears as he hurriedly slaps ducktape onto jars of green flames, attaching them to the ship's consoles. He knows the way the ship works well enough that he doesn't have to think about-just a steady rhythm of reach, place, tape for his well worked hands to complete. It's dangerous, leaving his mind open to wander. When he doesn't have to worry about what he's doing, his thoughts stray to disputed territory.
The rhythm goes on, the feel of glass against his calloused fingertips and the scratch of tape against the hair on his skin. Beckendorf should be listening-Percy has just left, and something is off. But he can't help it. Her black hair flickers into his mind and he is reminded of the picture in his pocket. Silena laughs in his memory, throwing her head back, her long eyelashes standing out against her pale face…
Something is wrong. Charlie has the same feeling in the pit of his stomach, his insides in a knot, as he does when he's sure something is about to explode. He's turned a gear the wrong way, or a wire is pulled too tight-it just doesn't work.
This mission just doesn't work.
Percy's gone, and he hasn't returned even though it's been ten minutes since the door clicked shut behind him. It's already going badly, but Beckendorf doesn't have the time to worry about his partner-the son of Poseidon is capable and he needs to finish rigging the controls.
Footsteps echo in the hallways, the guttural sound of monsters speaking reverberating through the metal walls of the ship. It's the crew deck-no frills or fancy wallpaper to be found.
"Check this hallway! There's one more on the ship!"
One more. They've caught Percy, or at least they know his location. Beckendorf holds back a swear, wishing he had some way to communicate with the kid.
Turning back to his other predicament, he realizes that, as dumb as Ancient Greek monsters are, they'll check the control room eventually, and somehow he has to convince them not to. He's not an Aphrodite camper; he can't just open his mouth and sing praises to get people to do his bidding. Quickly Beckendorf's strained mind grasps for Silena, even though she isn't a charmspeaker. It doesn't matter; she would make it easier just by being there.
He hears the monsters outside the door leaving, their heavy footfalls echoing on the tile outside. They must think there are still Telekhines in the control room. With a sigh of relief, an idea flashes into Beckendorf's mind. There's a cafeteria next door. With jars that could be the size of the greek fire currently taped around the room, rigged to blow when he presses the button on his watch.
Beckendorf stumbles in his rush to make it to the cafeteria, swinging his empty bag over his shoulder and keeping a hand on his sword in case he needs turn anything to golden dust. The monsters supposedly inspecting the hall have been distracted by something, and as he peers down the corridor where they eagerly snack on the unnamed item, he's reminded of Percy informing the council that brainwashed tourists had once inhabited the ship.
The thought doesn't help the already growing knot in his stomach.
Biting back the urge to chase after them, he ducks into the cafeteria, dodging a few overturned benches and collapsed tables that weren't originally collapsable. The kitchen is behind a metal door reminiscent of middle school, and Charlie shakes off the bad memories associated with being a preteen.
The kitchen hasn't been cleaned in a long time. Bits of dirt scratch the floor under his boots and he avoids a puddle of brown liquid slowly growing via a tipped over grease gun, probably for the oven or something. He's lucky-he can see peaches still sitting out for whoever they were feeding this morning, and they're the kind that come soft and covered in their own juice. The kind that come from glass jars.
They're sitting by the garbage, and, hearing scuffling in the hall outside the door, he sprints over them and dumps the stack of jars into his bag. Hoisting in back over his shoulder and hopping over the grease splotch on the tile, Beckendorf makes a run for the door back out to the stairs. He's being way too loud, feet stomping on the sheet metal stairs as he scrambles upward. He needs to get to Percy, and they need to get out of here, fast.
Never mind the fact that the son of Poseidon might not even be under his own power by the time Charlie gets to the deck.
He makes it to the second floor below the doors outside before he's caught. It's the barrage of monsters from the top that catch him by surprise-the Telekhines who were supposed to be patrolling the bottom floors are still two flights of stairs behind him, just realizing that there's another demigod on board. He makes sure it looks like he's going downstairs, and as they take him as their prisoner, the monsters flooding in from the top deck realize that he can't possibly be returning from the control room.
Beckendorf's muscles ache and he wants to be back at Camp Half-Blood, with anybody but these monsters. Well, maybe not anybody. Maybe just one person, actually…
The monsters, not just Telekhines anymore, but a mixture of Empousai, giantsand even a few hellhounds bounding after the mob of Ancient Greek nightmares drag him across the deck, clawed hands grasping at his shirt and his skin. One demigod in an eye patch seems to be leading them, and he looks oddly familiar. He mutters with one of the Empousai, glancing back at Beckendorf once before waving them to continue.
They take Charlie by the wrists, dragging him along the deck, hissing eagerly about a "master" and what exactly they're going to do to him in Greek.
For once, Beckendorf is glad that he only ever mastered the basics of the ancient language. There's one word he wouldn't be able to miss even if he didn't know a single other word in Greek. Kronos.
That's where they're taking him. The menacing (okay, yeah, he looks like a college student, but that's not important) Titan, and lord of Time. The knot in his stomach is growing by the minute, and he wishes it would stop because he's already figured out that the mission is shot.
The picture in Charlie's pocket comes to the front of his mind again, and he wishes he had a hand free to take it out and at least look at it.
The horde of monsters stop him in the middle of a much larger gathering-the creatures from the Underworld's literal pit of hell in ranks around the deck. Percy stands in the middle, shoulders slumped from apparent exhaustion, a dazed expression on his face. Riptide hangs from his hand, point nearly touching the ground beneath him. He just looks so drained.
Kronos steps forward, smiling with Luke's mouth, causing light to glint off Luke's scar in an almost sickly way, looks for a report from one of the leaders of the monster horde holding Beckendorf back.
The demigod, mouth curling into a sneer that matches his master's, steps forward to answer instead. "Success, my lord. We found him just as we were told."
Were told. A mole in Camp Half-Blood. What if this is a ploy so they can attack camp? He hopes Silena is safe, no matter how improbable that is.
Percy's expression goes from tired to devastated as they bring Beckendorf forward, hoisting him out to their master like a won prize. The black haired boy's soldiers droop further, but he has the drive to shout, "No!"
The son of Poseidon is desperate and his last hope has just been crushed. Figuratively, for now.
Beckendorf meets his green eyes, deliberately waiting for understanding as he glances to his watch. He can do it. One push of a button and the ship blows. It's be suicide, but it might be worth it.
"We found him amidships, trying to sneak into the engine room. Can we eat him now?" the group of monsters shifts as they eagerly wait for the answer.
Kronos glances at the eye patched demigod before replying. "Soon. Are you sure he didn't set the explosives?"s
"He was going towards the engine room, my lord."
"How do you know that?"
"Er… He's heading in that direction. And his bag is still full of explosives!"
Percy's eyes widen as he figures it out. A hint of a smile crosses his face. Beckendorf wants to grin in return, but he's busy turning over the thought of pressing the button on his watch in his mind.
I'll never go to camp again. I'll never build anything again. I'll never see Silena again. I'll never breathe again.
"Open his bag," the Titan orders.
One of the giants holding Charlie rips his bag off of his shoulder, dumping out the empty peach cans; watching them as they tumble out onto the deck. Monsters surge backward, waiting for a green, fiery death that never comes.
Kronos's eyes flash gold as he growls. "Did you perhaps capture this demigod near the galley?"
Ethan's terrified eyes widen further. "Um…"
"And did you perhaps, actually send someone to check the engine room!"
As Charlie reassures Percy silently that the watch had no delay, he manages to mouth one more word to his partner around the Titan's back before his mind is made.
Go.
Percy makes a wild dash, leaping over the railing of the Princess Andromeda and into the sea.
Beckendorf's hand hovers over the button for a single second.
The is the stupidest thing he's ever done.
This is the bravest thing he's ever done.
I'm so sorry, Silena.
He pushes the button.