CHAPTER 1 Axle's Beginning
Where he uses his powers

Disclaimer: I own no rights to Percy Jackson or any Rick Riordan novel.

Axle was sitting in a hospital beside his mother, as the life drained out of he. The doctors stood by waiting for her heart to stop working. Axle expected her death just as much as the doctors, but as his mother requested one last thing, he had to oblige.
"Axle sing our song, please just once more before I leave you," she requested, her voice crackly as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Axle held his mother's hands in his own, and began to sing in a whisper.
"Dear Father please help me,
I'm feeling uneasy
my mother isn't well
I beseech thee..."
Axle continued singing the song he always sang when his mother was unwell, he wasn't sure it really made any difference but his mother pretended it did. This time he was sure there would be no change. The doctor's were slightly confused at this ritual the pair seemed to have, but even more puzzled at the words that came out of the boy's mouth. They were sure they'd never heard the language before, assuming it may have been their own made up words.

As he finished the song, Axle looked over his mother expectantly. Even a sign of any recovery would have been a miracle at this point, but Axle still had his hope. Suddenly a beeping sound was being produced from the machine beside his mother, one of the doctors rushed to her. Placed his forefingers against her neck and waited. He looked over Axle with a piteous glare and shook his head. Axle decided to be strong he would let a tear drip until he was home alone, the doctors escorted Axle out of the room.
"So we're going to need you to answer a few questions, sign a few papers regarding the funeral plans. I know it's a lot to deal with at a young age, but I assume your father will be able to assist?" One of the doctors said expectantly.
"No, it's just me and my older brother. I'll be dealing with all the proceedings," Axle said coldly.
"Bryce give the boy a few minutes, his mother just passed away," the younger doctor reasoned guiding Axle to the coffee machine. "Son, what language were you speaking when you sung to your mother, it was lovely but It didn't sound familiar?"
Axle looked at him perplexedly, along with a weird way of trying to comfort a now orphaned boy, this man was joking with him.
"I don't know what you mean, it's English. I don't speak another language. If your trying to comfort me you're going about it the wrong way."
The young doctor frowned at Axles scepticism, but left him. After all he probably didn't want to talk; he bought Axle a coffee and took him back to the other doctors.

The other doctors hassled Axle making sure he had safe lodgings after the passing of his mother. He was informed he would be put in touch with child services; if any concerns were to arise he would be taken care of. All the boring things he needed to know, but nobody had said the usual 'sorry for your loss'. Although redundant Axle would like to hear something comforting now, a sick feeling wrenched at his gut. Two men had just walked into the room with a gurney, which he assumed would take his mother to the morgue. Axle stood there drifting in and out of the doctors conversations. When suddenly a commotion was heard within the room his mother's body was being collected from. Axle ran towards the door, his mother was standing on her two feet brandishing her IV drip stand at the two men who had obviously tried to move her.