Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson wasn't feeling so great. His face burned with fever, and he was sure his head was going to explode any minute now. He knew his mother had told him to stay home while she went to work, but it was Christmas holiday; there was no way this week of freedom would be ruined by Gabe. Besides, the cool air caressing his cheeks and ruffling his hair felt like heaven.
So, here he was, walking along the streets of Downtown Manhattan, everything fading into blurs of color. He heard laughter of high-school kids and the sounds of people arguing on cell phones, but nothing that put him on edge. Not that there was a reason to be, Percy had long before learned to blend into crowds. He couldn't resist the hungry groan that came from his mouth as soon as he smelled the greasy stench of a hamburger. If Percy were Superman, he was sure that burgers would be his kryptonite.
With a glance around, he was surprised to see a girl about his age a little bit away from him, along with a small group of people a few paces ahead of her. You don't see people like her often downtown. She had pretty princess curls, and while he couldn't see her eyes, he figured they'd be a dark blue of some kind. She looked like one of those stereotypical California girls, with a nice tan and athletic figure most girls would kill for. Percy also noticed, with a blush, that she was at least two inches taller than he was. Figures. Everyone was taller than him.
He almost took a step back when she looked at him straight in the eyes. He still couldn't make out the color–she was too far away–but he definitely knew they weren't blue. Something about them made him feel angry, like he wasn't supposed to like her. Percy didn't know why this was; he had never met her anywhere before. But before Percy could open his mouth to call out to the curious girl, she was gone. So were her friends.
Darn, Percy thought glumly. She…reminded me of something.
With a shrug, the son of Sally Jackson ignored all the odd thoughts running through his brain, feeling as though they were pounding their fists against the walls of his head with smashing force. Percy winced as the side of his skull throbbed painfully. Ow, okay, that hurt. 'Nough thinking for me.
With a dizzy spell that could have knocked a professional football player off his feet, he pressed his back against an old building, the smell of old paint and the musky scent of cigars assaulting his nose. Percy sneezed. Maybe he should have just stayed home… He could have been taking a bath right now, and when Mom got home, they could watch movies. Gabe was supposed to be going out tonight, so the TV would be theirs.
"Maybe he'll learn to drag it around with him," Percy snickered to himself, "but I think he'd get tired of it when he started to carry it down the steps." The image of Smelly Gabe breaking his back with a TV strapped to it was too much, and he started to laugh rather loudly. Percy quickly covered his mouth with a hand, however, when he noticed the weird looks he was getting. Oops, he thought, grinning ear to ear. He could only imagine the stern expression on his mom's face if she knew what he was thinking.
He then realized he just didn't want to go home for the sake of just not wanting to. He'd been there for two days now, with Smelly Gabe no less, and his lack of freedom was driving him crazy. Percy wondered how he could be so slow as to just figure this out. "I'm such an idiot, probably going to scare Mom to death when she comes home to find no one there."
Suddenly, Percy blinked, ears perking up at the sound of whimpering coming from an alleyway. Walking—more like stumbling—towards said alleyway, concern in his eyes, he looked around. It was dark, and the tell-tale sound of dripping pipes made him feel like he was getting some kind of Chinese water torture. It smelled, too, like a sewer, and that coupled with the filthy grey walls made Percy figure this wasn't a hot spot for some gang. Or even hobos. He noticed, with a cringe, that some green, chunky substance was leaking from the top of the back wall. Finally, after pinching his nose and trying not to puke, Percy saw the thing that had made the earlier noise.
A small, bony Border Collie, no more than a pup, was curled up on the dirty alley floor. Percy noticed with a flinch, that one of the poor thing's legs was missing. The right back leg. His heart cracked. He had always been a softy for anyone in need, and this starved pup made him want to run him straight to a vet. With a sigh of defeat, he gently cradled the dog in his arms, wrapping his jacket around its freezing body.
"You should be ashamed. Gabe's going to flay me alive!" The puppy just looked up with large hazel eyes, and Percy faltered in his anger. "Don't give me that look," he mumbled, walking out of the alleyway and to his apartment. He stroked its matted white and black fur as he walked. At the very least, he could make Gabe mad by bringing home some "mangy mutt".
It would show him what happened when you greeted your stepson with a slap to the back of the head and a: "Get kicked out yet, Brain boy?"
He never noticed the small girl with eyes of the hearth, smiling softly at him. "You're certainly not just some mangy mutt, Percy Jackson."
This is more of a "normal" attempt on Percy's life before the books, and I think it fits his character created by Riordan a lot better, unlike my darker fics. I wanted to try and stay true to Percy's character in this one. Which is hard, considering the way I write is Third Person Selective Singular, so I find it difficult not to use a larger vocabulary. Percy's blunt and to-the-point, even in his head. I have trouble doing that. I also tried to make him slower when it comes to processing things, because a few people complained about that in my other oneshots.
Oh, well, I tried.
~Loyalty