Disclaimer: I'm not an adult male. So how could I be Rick Riordan?

Percy was born to run.

The wind tore at his hair and his jacket, making the end flap wildly behind him. His legs pumped and his heart raced with adrenaline. His sneakers slapped the hard concrete ground. Every time his foot connected with the ground, he could feel it like it was a blow of its own. It vibrated through his sneakers and feet and filled him with a fizzing feeling he couldn't explain.

The feeling of the wind, the speed, the pure reality of it all, he loved it.

It would have been great if there weren't three nasty men at his toes. They were three times bigger than him, loaded with knives, and wanted his money. They had tried mugging him, but their goals changed after he'd punched the big ugly one with the blue beanie's face in. Now they were after his blood.

But hey, Percy thought optimistically, you win some, you lose some.

One of the men gasped out between heaving panting, "Stop running, kid!"

He smirked. Ha! As if that would stop him.

"We're bound to catch you at some point!"

Not if he could help it. Percy loved running and all, but he was getting tired of the chase. He put on a renewed burst of strength, not feeling tired at all, and hung a tight left.

Right into a one-way alley.

Percy cursed viciously in his head. He looked around, panic bursting through his body, and jumped behind a dumpster. He heard the men's feet skid on the ground, heard a heavy thud and several muffled curses. Heavy footfalls inches closer and closer to his position, and the angry exclamations turned triumphant as the men realized they had him trapped. Percy's back was pressed against the side of the dumpster. His heart was really pounding now, and it was fear instead of adrenaline. He heard the knives slide out of a holster menacingly.

"Come out, little boy," a low, gravelly voice said threateningly. "Just come out and we won't hurt you."

Yeah, and the moon was made of cheese.

How did he get himself in these types of situations anyway?

The voice started again. It was closer this time. Percy bunched up his muscles, prepared to leap out and slam his knee into someone's unfortunate face. "Fine. Let's do this the hard way, then." The knife clinked against something hard, making the scrape-scrape noise that Percy heard when he slept.

The scars along his body seemed to prickle, as if recalling his past experiences with knives and other pointy things. Percy closed his eyes and prayed. Only two seconds later, he opened his eyes and berated himself for being so stupid. Praying wouldn't help him in this situation, only his wits would.

Percy eyed the surrounding buildings, wondering if he could scale one without being followed. But that put him in an even more vulnerable position. The men could just as easily climb after him. Where could he possibly go after? It wasn't like he could just break into someone's house.

"Aha!"

Percy's scream caught in his throat. He'd let his guard down too easily. One of the men found him. It was the one with the blue beanie and the rusty sharp knife. He seemed to be the leader, and he was the one who Percy had punched. A big bruise had spread over the left side of his face. Blue Beanie dragged him by his shirt to the center of the alley, where the other two men's eyes lit up.

"I'm going to make you pay for what you did to me. I know your type, pretty boy," Blue Beanie drawled, anger smoldering in his eyes. "I can just tell by your stupid, cocky face. Spoiled, used to having your daddy do all your dirty work for you."

Percy nearly snorted at that. That was as far from the truth as you could get. He understood why the man thought he was rich, though. He had recently shoplifted from a clothing store. Apparently it was quite an expensive brand. He didn't like stealing, but he really smelled and all his other clothes were ripped and torn. He had also taken a digital watch, which now was his only piece of technology.

"W-wait!" he cried out, shrinking into himself. "I'll give you all my money. J-just don't hurt me. Please!"

Blue Beanie's face transformed into a nasty smirk. "Show me the bills and we'll see."

Percy shoved a hand into the pocket of his hoodie, pretending to root around for change. Bleu Beanie stared at him expectantly. The two standing behind him were also looking at Percy, completely unguarded. Finally, he pulled out something clenched in his fist and held it out at Blue Beanie. The man held out his hand for the money, and that's when Percy struck.

He gripped Blue Beanie's wrist and twisted it to the side. The man squealed, not expecting it, and staggered. Percy kicked out the man's legs from underneath him and drove his knee into his face, just like he'd intended. While Blue Beanie was writhing on the floor in pain, the two guys moved onto him. It was a short fight. Percy had spent years on the streets; he knew all the dirty tricks. He lashed out at them, a tornado of moves. He moved gracefully, like an acrobat, and flipped over one man while elbowing the other one in the stomach.

The two were on the floor with their buddy in a matter of seconds.

Except their buddy wasn't on the floor anymore, which Percy realized too late. He felt that plunging-into-ice-cold-water feeling when he was suddenly up against the Dumpster, Blue Beanie holding a knife to his neck. The blade of the knife dug into his skin, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out.

Crap.

"You think I'm going to let you get away with punching me?" the man drawled. "You've got worse coming to you, boy."

Percy forced his features into an arrogant expression, smirking his trademark I'm-A-Rebel smirk. He let his scared boy facade drop. That wasn't going to help him now. "You fellas must think you're really something. Three against one, I can see how this is fair."

The two other men, glared at this. They had picked themselves off the ground and now were looking at him with expressions of hatred. One was a tall, thin man built like a weed with an ugly look on his face. His face reminded Percy of a malnourished weasel. The other man was a mountain of muscle, with short blonde hair and a handsome face. He looked like he could be a Calvin Klein model, which only made the evil look on his face more ominous. Percy named them Weasel Man and Blondie in his head.

"Ain't nobody play by da rules here," Weasel Man said. He had a strong accent. "We gonna finish you."

Blue Beanie smirked. "That's right. Take a swing at him." The last few words were directed at Blondie. He released Percy and pushed him toward the hulking blonde brute.

Blondie's face contorted unpleasantly. He marched forward and fisted his hands. Percy knew what was coming a split second before it happened, and braced himself for the impact. It came inevitably as Blondie's fists came straight at his nose. He heard a horrible CRACK and could feel the liquid pouring out of his nose. He tasted copper.

"How'd you like that, you little brat? That's for elbowing me." rumbled Blondie. He had one of those incredibly low voices, so that Percy could barely make out what he was saying.

He met Blondie's sky-blue eyes with a fully fledged grin. "It felt great. I think my nose was little itchy before that."

"You got a mouth," Blondie said.

Well kuh-duh.

Another blow, this time to the jaw. Percy's smile didn't falter, just kept on growing bigger. He could feel the beginnings of a nasty bruise forming on his cheekbone, and wondered how dark it would be the next day. That wasn't enough for Blondie. The man punched him twice, hard. By now Percy's face hurt when he smiled. A lot.

Weasel Man looked the slightest bit uncomfortable by the display. "Loosen up, Lance. He's just a kid."

Lance. That was fitting.

"No, Lance, don't stop," Percy mocked, blood from his nose dripping on the ground. "I'm sure punching me repeatedly in the face will make you feel much better. In fact, why don't you have another go?"

"I'm going to beat your sorry little face in," Blondie threatened.

"Ooh, I'm really scared now-" Percy's language turned into an indecipherable mix of curses when Lance kicked his legs out beneath him.

"You don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?" Blue Beanie said coldly.

Percy could only muster a pained groan.

"Not so mouthy now, are ya? Now, empty your pockets. I want to see what kind of rich-boy stuff you got in there."

"You won't find anything. I'm poor as hell." But Percy did as he was told. A piece of gum and an wrinkly advertiser for Febreeze fell out.

Blue Beanie had obviously expected something else. His face grew dark with disappointment and anger. "Seriously?"

Percy feigned delight. The best way to remain unthreatening was to stay light humored. "Man, I forgot I had this gum!" He looked around at Blue Beanie, who was holding a knife to his throat, Blondie, who was preparing his fists for another fight, and Weasel Man, who looked like he just wanted to take the money and leave. "Anyone want some gum?"

Blue Beanie looked at Weasel Man. "Search him."

Weasel Man patted him down and found nothing.

"I told you, I'm not rich."

A cruel grin flitted across his face. "Well, I guess we'll have to settle for beating you to a pulp."

Oh, man.

Percy stumbled through the door, feeling the warmth hit his face as he slipped off his shoes by the rug and gingerly sat on the couch. Finally, he was safe. He sank into the cushions, closing his eyes and sighing a mixture of pain and comfort. Next, he heard light footsteps treading toward the living room and braced himself for the inevitable.

There was the sound of a glass shattering.

"Percy, what the actual f-"

"It's not what it looks like, Jess."

He opened his eyes to see a glaring, dark haired twenty-year-old in the doorway. Her charcoal gray eyes were narrowed in annoyance. Wearing a loose shirt and ripped jeans, arms crossed across her chest. The remains of a glass bowl in pieces at her bare feet. Jessica Winfred could look really scary when she wanted to be.

"Oh, really?" Her voice was completely sarcastic. "What is it supposed to look like? You break into my house at 4 am, bruised and bleeding all over my couch, and I don't even-" She broke off with a sigh, bending down to clean up the shattered bowl at her feet. "And you owe me a new bowl, loser."

"I'll pay for it."

She sighed. "You'd better. What happened to you, anyway?"

He looked sheepish. "I...uh, fell."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Right. That explains why you're looking like you just fell off a cliff, after getting run over by a truck, after getting the stuffing punched out of you. Percy, we had a deal."

"It wasn't like I was trying to get mugged. Those guys were total jerks."

"So you got mugged."

"Sort of. They just kind of came at me with a knife, asking for my money, and I, well..."

Jess threw up her hands. "Tell me you did not throw the first punch."

"Okay. I didn't."

She groaned. "Now tell me the truth."

He had the grace to look slightly regretful. "I did."

"Of course you did, you stupid reckless idiot." Jess was the only person who could get away with calling him that. "How bad are you hurt?"

"Not bad," Percy lied. "I'm fine, mostly."

"Jackson, you are the worst liar I have had the pleasure to come across. Your face is all bruised and your nose is bleeding. Take off your hoodie and your shirt."

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"I need to look at the damage."

Percy complied, wincing as he did so. He winced even when he saw it. Blue Beanie and his cronies hadn't left him in good shape. Blue Beanie had unleashed Blondie on him, letting the man punch his way through Percy's confidence while holding him so that he couldn't squirm away. Then Blue Beanie had used the knife on him a bit, too. After, they'd left him in suffer in the dark, unfriendly alley. Percy hadn't cried. He had dealt with worse, and besides, he was over tears. But he'd felt the overwhelming helplessness that no one was going to come for him. His entire torso was covered in blotchy purple bruises. His ribs felt bruises many times over.

"Jesus Christ, Percy. This is why-"

"Yes, I know."

His words were tight with impatience. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture. He'd already gotten it from himself as he cursed himself to the moon and back while dragging himself to Jess's house.

She got the message he didn't really want to talk. The woman got to work, heaving her medical supplies to the couch. She muttered words under her breath about reckless kids and horrible muggers, but Percy knew her well enough to see the relief in her body language. If anyone else had been tending to his wounds, he would have been on his guard the entire time. But Percy trusted Jessica, more than he'd trust anyone else. Plus, she had a medical degree.

He had met Jess when he was eight. She was a teenager-almost-adult whose parents had kicked her out, and he was a runaway with an abusive stepfather and a dead mother. He had been living on the streets for only a few weeks and was so hungry that he tried shoplifting a wallet from Jessica's pocket. She caught him in the act, naturally.

Instead of reporting him, she made him give back her wallet and then took him out to get pizza. Jessica was rich. Or more to the point, her parents were rich. But they kicked her out, so Jess had stolen more than a few bucks before running away. She was easy to talk to, so Percy told her his story. She didn't look at him with pity like the people back home did.

"We're pretty similar, me and you," she'd told him. "We both come from crappy homes. But you're a fighter, Percy. I can tell from your eyes. We both are."

No one had ever said that to him before. And that was the start of an unsteady friendship, which slowly became a strong bond between the two.

Percy hissed as Jess pressed some medical thing against his chest.

"There, all done," she said, throwing him his too-big shirt and hoodie again. "Put that on. You're so scrawny, it's hard to look at you."

"Why, thank you."

"As for the damage...it's not too bad. It could be worse. No broken bones, only bruises, and those knife scratches. You'll live." Her gray eyes darkened. "God, I hate muggers."

Percy dragged the hoodie on. "That makes two of us, Doc." He pushed himself up off the couch, straightening up and stretching.

Jess pushed him down with a finger. "Whoa there, tiger. Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom." He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just making sure you don't overexert yourself."

"I'll make sure I don't walk too fast or anything," Percy said seriously. "After all, the bathroom is a very dangerous place."

"Oh, you...shut up."

Percy walked to the bathroom, Jess's soft carpet pressing against his socks, and shut the door behind him. He breathed in and out. I'm safe, he reminded himself. Alive and kickin'. He'd been scared, in that alley. Those guys could have killed him.

"Jerks," he muttered.

Percy traced the angry red knife line running across his jaw, not wincing when it stung. That was going to scar. He looked at his reflection. His hair was dark and messy, his skin golden tan. His face was angular but still had some baby fat, reminding everyone of his youth. His eyes were the color of the sea on a perfect day. He was...himself.

Scars aside, he could have mistaken himself for a normal boy.

If not for his eyes picking up on the faint healed scars on his face and arms. Or the remaining blood on his face from the nosebleed. It was the way he looked at things. His eyes were older than they should have been. Over the past years, he'd changed. No longer the innocent little boy sitting with Jess in that pizza shop. He'd matured.

Yet he would have given anything to be an innocent boy again.

New story! Do you like Percy's personality in this? And Jessica's? If there are a lot of reviews telling me that this story isn't horrible, I will continue. I'm working on another two fanfics at the moment, so updates will be slow IF I decide to continue after this.