Fine. I'll do it.
Written and edited by: Max/musiclover99
©-The very evil Rick Riordan, since he left that chapter of the Son of Neptune on a TOTAL CLIFFIE! Just like the Lost Hero . . . TT-TT Curse him!
Okay, so like I said yesterday in my other fic, Who? (which got 240+ hits and this is only it's SECOND DAY! YOU GUYS RULE!), I have typed up another one-shot to celebrate the FIRST CHAPTER AND THE EPIC COVER OF THE SON OF NEPTUNE! The cover is so freaking awesome. I keep staring at it every time I can in class, and if not, I imagine it . . . anyway, this is just an assumption, a theory I . . .uh, BORROWED from my friend, Gigi (aka bubble drizzles). This is the day Percy woke up with his memory lost. And I'm almost 99% sure this is totally off and not right so . . . sorry! This is the inspiration I was getting! T-T Sigh . . . on with da fic!
Ugh, my head. Where the Hades am I? Percy thought, rubbing his head from where he lay on the floor. After a second, he blinked.
Wait, Hades? Where'd that come from? But Percy just shook it off, then immediately stopped. His head was throbbing a bit, and he couldn't really remember anything. His name. . . . for a scary moment, he didn't know his name. Percy. Whew.
But Percy . . . Percy who? Where was he? What's he doing here? Percy concentrated as hard as he could, tried to remember something, and then—
"Night, Seaweed Brain," a girl had said, kissing him on the cheek. Percy had smiled, and kissed her cheek too and whispered back, "Night." He watched as the girl walked back into her cabin.
That was the last thing he remembers. Besides his name. And . . . that girl. She kept popping up. She—with her stormy gray eyes, that pretty curly blond hair . . . his heart was performing a relay race every time he thought of her. Yeah sure, he knew how she looked (barely, it's fuzzy) and she seems really cool, but . . .
He couldn't remember anything about her. About him. And about their relationship . . . it seems like they're dating, but he doesn't want to just assume. He wants to know. And for some reason, it's killing him not knowing. But for now . . .
He stood up and brushed all the ash and dust from his clothes. He looked around, trying to see if he remembered what was going on, or where he was, or something.
The place looked like a millionaire lumberjack built it. Sure, almost every place was burnt and there was ash all over the place, but besides that, it looked amazing. Then he looked at himself in the window.
Bright sea green eyes stared back at him. His jet black hair was messy, and shaggy, but he thinks—assumes, actually, he's been doing that a lot right now—that it's always been like that. And he likes it that way (as far as he can tell). His clothes were an orange shirt with some regular shorts, a leather necklace with clay beads. It sounds normal, but his shirt had something weird written on it. It took a while to read it (about five minutes since it was backwards and he was dyslexic—at least, he thinks he is, since the letters kept jumping around) but he finally managed: Camp Half-Blood.
That name made the hairs on the back of his neck tingle, his head throbbed even more. It felt so . . . important. Something he should know by heart, never forget.
He sighed with frustration and shoved his hands into his pocket. His left hand hit something, and he took it out. A pen. A simple pen, but it also felt so, so special.
He uncapped it, and for some reason, he wasn't really surprised when his own reflection stared back at him through a bronze sword. No, it seemed like he actually expected this pen to turn into a sword. It seemed so . . . instinctual. Like he'd uncapped this pen a million times before. It felt like it was designed just for him, perfectly balanced, and comfortable.
He capped it again. An engraving was on the guard: Anaklusmos. Riptide. The translation came to him easily. For some reason, it was way easier reading this. Less than five seconds to read it this time, anyhow. And that was even with the way it was lettered in a fancy way.
It took him a second to register that he just read Ancient Greek. He suddenly shivered before he could put more thought into that. He was freezing, and just noticed he was barefoot.
Then another chill went up his spine, one that had nothing to do with the cold. Percy turned around and jumped with a start. A wolf with beautiful chocolate red fur and misty silver eyes was at the door. While a normal person would be terrified at the first sight of a wolf, for Percy at this moment, you have to multiply that terror by at least three. Why? This wolf was tall. Very tall, taller than any human. And that scared the Hades outta him. He caught himself again.
Hades? Again? he thought in confusion. But before he could do anything else, the wolf sort of . . . spoke.
Hello, Perseus, it said. My name is Lupa. Welcome to The Wolf House.
Lupa. Okay then, sure, a talking wolf. Great. He totally wasn't going crazy. But the thing was, she wasn't talking. It was the movement of her ears and her mouth, little things like that. That's her language. And somehow, he understood it.
Awesome. Now he can understand when she wants to eat him. Helpful. He tightened the grip on the pen.
"Um, hi I guess?" Percy said. "Who are you? What is this place? Who am I?"
Shush! the she-wolf snapped. Too many questions. No time for answers, Perseus.
He didn't know why, but whenever she . . . "said" Perseus, he winced a bit. Then again, he didn't really know anything right now.
"Do you know anything about me?" he asked. "I . . . I'm sorta lost. Literally and metaphorically."
Lupa raised an eyebrow (how a wolf does that, Percy will never know) and then pursed her lips (again, never know).
I do, she admitted after a second. More than I am allowed to tell you, though I would not have told you at all in the first place.
Percy's eyes widened and he asked, "Why? Wh . . . what's so wrong with telling me who I am?"
Again with the questions, Lupa growled. What did I say? No time. You will get some answers if you complete a . . . task.
"Anything!" Percy said desperately. "Just . . . I need to know something. Anything at all."
The wolf stared at him with calculating eyes, before saying, Very well then. I am obligated to inform you of at least a few . . . facts about you, as it would be a shame if you had not survived.
Not . . . survived, Percy thought wryly. Great. What have I gotten myself into?
Where to begin . . . Lupa wondered rhetorically.
After only a few minutes of some explaining, Percy could almost see the bridges in his brain connecting, making sense of things. Little sparks and pathways connecting some things together. He knew as soon as she said the word demigods and monsters, she was speaking the truth.
And the truth was . . . that pretty much sucks.
"Okay," Percy said, nodding. Even though it'd only been about twenty minutes at max since he woke up, he felt weary and tired. "Alright then. I'm a demigod. Son of . . . some god, what's his name? . . . P—Neptune, or whatever. "
A second after, he blinked in confusion for the third time that day. What was he gonna say? It sounded so familiar, tip of his tongue, and for a second it seemed correct . . . but then he remembered Lupa had said Neptune and he stopped. It felt . . . wrong to say Neptune, and more correct to say the other one . . . only problem was, he didn't know what the "other one" was.
Yes. Lupa nodded as well. Perseus, the son of Neptune. Now, you must complete the t—
"Whoa whoa whoa, back up for a second," Percy interrupted. When the wolf's eyes flashed, and her fur bristled a bit, he added, "Lady Lupa."
He honestly didn't know why he said that, but it seemed . . . right. Like he's been a situation like this before, angering a powerful being. Joy. His past life was just awesome, wasn't it?
"Remind me, why should I do this life threatening task? I could always try to go my own way."
And die just as soon, she snarled. No, you foolish boy. You need training. Proper training. Or else you shall die.
"Look, if I'm right, then I've done this before. I don't know how, I don't know when, I don't know where, but I just . . . feel it," Percy said.
Yes, yes, Lupa said somewhat doubtfully. But do you want to know what your life was? Not just look for answers like some insolent child?
Insolent child . . . looking for answers . . . why did that sound so familiar too?
N . . . Ni . . . a boy who's name started with an N. A boy he knew, one who was looking for answers some time ago, not that long though. Nic—
—do you wish to know about that girl? Lupa said. Percy's head snapped up so quickly, he could've gotten whiplash. Yeah, he really wanted to know, but he also silently cursed.
So close to finding something out, he thought wistfully. Even something small.
But nonetheless, she had managed to capture his attention. And if she's talking about the girl that he's thinking about . . . well, it might've been worth losing that thought.
"Girl?" he questioned. "What girl?"
Hmm, Lupa sneered, ignoring his question. Paying attention for a mere distraction. Very well. If that gets you to pay attention, then fine.
"What girl?" Percy asked urgently. "What girl are you talking about?"
Do not speak to me in that tone! she growled. Then she said, But the girl I am speaking of is the grey eyed one. With the blonde hair. Annabeth.
Something in his mind just clicked.
Annabeth, he thought involuntarily, such a pretty name. She's so awesome and coo—
Then he shook himself out of it. Pull yourself together, Jackson.
It took him a second to realize what he just called himself.
Jackson? Who—
Suddenly, his head was pounding again, and another faint memory appeared in his mind's eye.
"So," a girl said. Annabeth. "What did you want to tell me?"
Music was playing, people were dancing, and Percy was looking around nervously.
Well, he thought. Might as well just ask her. Deep breath, be calm, and pull yourself together, Jackson.
"I, uh, was thinking we got interrupted at Westover Hall," Percy said. "And . . . I think I owe you a dance."
Annabeth smiled slowly. "Alright, Seaweed Brain."
Percy snapped out of it. Seaweed Brain. That name should've been an insult but . . . he liked it. He wanted to be called that by Annabeth. And Jackson . . . his last name. Jackson. Perse—no. Percy. Percy Jackson. That sounds right.
Lupa was still staring at him, still calculating him, seeing if he has what it takes to survive.
So, boy, she started, will you complete the task? It is the only way you shall learn more about your life. And Annabeth.
The small of his back tingled a bit at the name Annabeth, and it felt like something was tugging at it a bit.
Percy looked at his leather necklace, the beads and his pen, his shirt, Lupa.
No way, he thought. Anybody would be crazy to do this. But then he thought of Annabeth, and how sad he felt, how curious he was. Well, he needed to find out who he was. And about Annabeth. Why not?
"Alright," he muttered. "Fine. I'll do it."
I can't believe I forgot about this, but you know be jealous of me? BJOM? The docs found out she has a brain tumor so . . . she won't be coming back. She's not dead, thank gods, it's just she wants to spend more time with her friends and family. So yeah . . . .
Okay, sorry for adding that AN right here and making it end on a sad moment, but I HAD to pass the message. Moving on, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! SON OF NEPTUNE! IN 4 MONTHS AND 7 DAYS! SO LONG. SOOOOO LONG! NOOOOOOO! AND I UPLOADED THIS ONE MINUTE TOO LATE! NOOOOOOO! . . . I blame Kenzie. She said she would read it and edit but she never did . . . so I waited for NOTHING! NOOOOOO!