So, this is my first Percy Jackson fanfiction. I'm a huge fan of the series but have been too scared to delve into it thus far. Then I got this idea and wrote it. It's done for now, but I might someday come back to it. AU for sure. I love them so much. It can make all sorts of crazy things happen.
Make sure to leave a review and tell me what you think of my first shot into this universe.
His mother tells him that when he was a baby he cried so loudly and would never stop until she held him. She also tells him that when he was a toddler it was very similar. If he couldn't see her or feel her, he would burst out crying, even in the apartment.
According to her, that's when she realizes something is wrong with him. Now, his mom is careful to never say that. She always tells him there's a reason he was born this way. That being different doesn't mean he's wrong. He believes her.
Their conversations are always long. She uses her hands to talk to him, and he does the same. It's the only language he knows. Lip reading is something he's okay at, but it's as much guessing as it is skill, and very easy to make a mistake. He's pretty good at it, but he prefers sign language.
Most of the time his mom's lips move at the same time she's signing to him. She talks while signing. It makes it easier for her to remember each sign. He talks while signing to her too. He's not as good as her, and all of his words are slurred, but it's pretty good for not being able to hear. It's all about muscle memory in the mouth anyway.
It's just him and his mom. He does remember a brief time when they lived with an ugly man who smelled, but that was when he was very young, and according to his mom, the man was a boyfriend she dated to 'protect' him. He's not quite sure what he would need protecting from, but he just goes along with it.
They live in a tiny one bedroom apartment in Manhattan. His mom works at a candy shop and takes night classes at a college. She wants to be a writer. He finds it slightly ironic, consider his other issues.
He's deaf, but he's also dyslexic and ADHD. Words just float off the page for him and arrange into different patterns he can't decipher. He can read, it's just hard. Still, even though it's hard, he does love books. It's something to do with not being able to communicate in a normal way, well, not really. It always makes him feel happy, to read a good book where the characters feelings just leap off the pages. Even if it takes him a year to read it.
His mom homeschools him. It's not because he can't go to a normal school, but because whenever he's tried, bad things seemed to follow him. After being kicked out of another school in third grade, his mother spent the whole summer researching everything she needed to know to homeschool him.
If he's being honest, he likes homeschooling much better. Back when he was in regular school he was mercilessly bullied, either for being deaf, for talking funny, for dyslexia, for ADHD, or the best option, all of the above. Plus, his mom comes up with the coolest ways to teach completely boring subjects, like math and history.
School is a normal thing throughout the summer. Since his mom works a lot, they usually only do school when she works half days or has a day off. He doesn't mind though. He doesn't exactly have a lot of friends, so doing school in the summer makes it less boring.
Case in point; today his mom and him are going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He supposed to write a paper on Greek art, which according to his mom is really important for him to learn. He's not exactly sure why, but she's always been insistent about anything Greek.
Art is another one of his favorite things. It's a way to express yourself, and anyone can understand it. You don't need to know or speak any language. Art isn't words. Art is feelings. And that's something he's always appreciated about it.
Still, cool as art is, he's excited to learn what he needs to learn, get home, and write his paper. His mom promised that as soon as he did that, they could head out to Montauk. It was kind of a tradition between them. Every summer she tries to take him out there to a beach house where they rent bad movies and swim in the ocean. They weren't able to go last year because money was tight, but this year she'd promised. And his mom never breaks a promise.
As he runs to and fro from one piece of Greek art to another, he notices a strange looking woman wearing a museum uniform glaring at him and his mom but ignores it. Lots of people do that to him. His mom says it's because lots of people don't like kids for some strange reason, but Percy can't help but think that there's more to it than that.
The creepy museum lady goes down a corridor and slips from his mind as fast as she disappears. He quickly focuses on the artwork and sculptures again, writing down notes and planning out his paper.
It goes well, and one week after the museum trip him and his mom are in their junky car driving to Montauk. Car rides are always silent for them. His mom can't exactly sign or face him to make lip reading easy while she drives. If there is ever any talking, it's always by him. He signs even though it's not needed. Signing is more his language than English, and signing helps him remember how he's supposed to move his mouth for the word. The exact opposite of his mom.
This trip he doesn't talk. His mom has music blasting on the radio, and even though he can't hear it, the vibrations are familiar. It's his mom's favorite song playing. She always has it on. In the car. At home. On her phone. Everywhere. It's his favorite song too.
Suddenly the car jerks to the side and flips upside down. He doesn't know what's happening. He's pretty sure he's hit his head, and he knows for sure that his mom did. She has blood trickling down from her forehead. Quick as can be, he unbuckles himself and asks his mom, foregoing signing for once: "What happened?"
His mom unbuckles her own seat and winces as she falls down. She looks at him. It's dark, and he can't quite make out what she's saying, but he gets the gist of it. Something hit them. Something bad.
His mom gestures to the window and signs: 'Run.'
He waits, body tense, as she slams her feet into the driver's door and it shoots open. His mom rushes out and he follows her fast as can be. Next thing he knows they're running down the road with a giant bull in underwear chasing them. If the situation isn't so scary, he'd be laughing himself silly.
His mom signs for him to run faster and not look back, and just as he's about to ask her why she flys back like she's hit an invisible wall. The monstrous bull grabs her, and with one squeeze of it's fist, his mom disappears.
Suddenly all he sees is red. He rushes for the monster, no plan really in mind. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen. He remembers this pen. Last spring a teacher had come over to the apartment to make sure he was keeping up with school. The man (Mr. Brunner. A nice man in a wheelchair) had given it to him and said it was a special pen.
Almost on instinct, he pulls the cap off the pen. Before he knows it, the bull thing-y is charging at him, and then it's gone, and he's left holding a sword in place of his pen and a horn from the bull. The last thing he remembers before everything goes dark is falling against a large tree and seeing a big house at the bottom of the hill.
He has a series of strange dreams. Dreams full of barnyards with animals trying to kill him and get food. He wakes up a few times, but the few times are fuzzy, and almost as soon as he does he passes out again.
When he finally wakes up with a little more awareness, a blonde-haired girl is staring at him intently. As he tries to blink away the gritty feeling in his eyes away, the girl's mouth starts moving very fast. He doesn't understand what she's trying to say. And keeping his eyes open is taking too much effort. He slumps back into unconsciousness.
He wakes up again. The girl is gone, and in her place is a man who looks like the stereotypical surfer guy, except for the dozens of eyes coving every part of his skin that can be seen.
He passes out a few moments after that registers.
When he finally wakes up for good, the blonde girl is back. She's sitting beside him. He groans and sits up slowly. As he yawns, everything that had happened to his mom comes back to him. He shoots out of bed, only to be stopped by the blonde girl's hand on his shoulder.
"Calm down," she says. This time he can read her lips.
"What do you mean calm down?" he asks sharply, quick signing giving away how apprehensive he is. "What's going on? Where's my mom?"
The girl's eyes widen at his signing, though if he's being honest with himself, it's probably his voice she's surprised by. He can't hear it, but as he's been told many times before by not-so-nice people, he sounds really strange when he talks. Almost like all his word slur together. And when he's upset, it gets worse.
Almost as soon as he's yelling, a man he recognizes comes in. Mr. Brunner, the teacher he's met once before.
"Percy Jackson," Mr. Brunner says, though he's signing too. "I believe we need to have a talk."