Untitled:
A/N: Anyone who wants this is welcome to take it. This is just a presentation of my idea, and one that I would love people to take up as I want to read it. Maybe I'll continue this someday, maybe not. Those who do want to continue this, however, have to inform me first, before taking over. Please make sure that you can do this story justice (not to say my writing is really good or anything of the like, I just want the plot line to be written well so I want to read it.) before you take it up. Oh and the title can be renamed by whoever wants to take it up.
PJOxSPN:
Summary:
When Annabeth dies in a fire with mysterious circumstances, while Percy escapes with their six-months-old baby, he is suddenly thrust into a world of entities that are more powerful and more deadly than the Greek Gods.
-0-
The fire roared the loudest yet, and consumed what remained of the charred house he and Annabeth had been living in. Desolate green eyes watched, as he clung to the infant in his arms, as the whole structure of their beloved home collapsed.
Percy never thought that he'd come home to this, and the white-hot pain that spread throughout his body at the knowledge that his Annabeth was dead, nearly sent him to his knees.
-Earlier-
Annabeth had been acting oddly, grey eyes solemn as she watched her husband get ready for work. Percy didn't comment, content on waiting until she spilled the beans herself as she always did.
A moment later, just as he was about to leave, she stepped forward, hands going for his neck. A small sad smile tugged at her lips as she straightened his tie in a loving gesture. Her hands fell to her side when she was done, grey eyes brimming, as she looked at him, with a multitude of indecipherable emotions.
"See you, Seaweed Brain."
Oddly enough, that sounded ominously like goodbye. The cold fear that gripped his heart was but a fleeting moment, and he brushed it off.
oOo
It was midnight when Percy finally made his way back home. There had been a problem work, and he had to stay for quite a few hours. Overtime really was a bitch. Thank the gods that it was a Saturday tomorrow.
The orange in the distance caught the Son of Poseidon's attention as he drove on. And as he drew nearer, it was quite evident that the ball of orange flames was his house.
The fear came back again, this time even stronger as he rushed out of his car and ran into the house, heedless of the fire. He was partially immune to flames after all.
The wailing from the nursery caught his attention, and he headed there immediately. Percy trusted Annabeth to be able to look after herself, but if their baby was in danger, no doubt he would find them both there. They were both heroes in the end.
Percy kicked the door down to the nursery, and was nearly consumed by the red fury that was coursing through his veins when he came upon the scene that greeted him: Annabeth was tied to the ceiling, her body on fire as silent screams were rendered from her throat. A man, blond with yellow eyes smirked as he watched her burn. His baby, Aristocles (Ari for short), was held, sleeping, in the man's arms.
The stranger looked at him, turning away from the burning body of his wife, and grinned ear-to-ear.
"Aww… Looks like it's time to cut my fun short. But first…"
Percy didn't know what to do, and while the man rose his bleeding – when had it started to bleed – wrist over the mouth of his child, he did the only thing he could do. He charged, Riptide uncapped and familiar in his hand.
Faced with an enraged, charging Percy Jackson, most people would've just let themselves get stabbed to calm him down, or scream and jump into the fire to get burned down. Both options would seem viable at that point of time to other people. Not this guy though. He stood his ground, smirking, as if Percy Jackson was but an amusing pet that sought to defy him.
The son of Poseidon brought his sword down, lightning-quick and deadly, and would've sliced the whole male in front into two if not for the casual side-step that brought the yellow-eyed man just shy of Riptide's blade.
Percy, in all of his years, had never seen an opponent quite like this one. Anyone, even Ares for Hade's sake, would've been hard-pressed to even see that move, much less dodge it with such grace. Yes, Percy had improved in leaps and bounds in his swordsmanship that he could even give the God of War a run for his money. It just didn't make sense that this man before him was that powerful. After all, who could quite be as good at fighting as Ares himself?
Azazel sighed, slightly disappointed that the famed – even in Hell – Percy Jackson only amounted to this. Not even John Winchester – why, that man was such a joy – had done this badly.
A flash of bronze caught his eye, and suddenly, a burst of pain suddenly sprouted at his side, and he almost dropped the baby in shock.
The smirk that stretched across his face was terrifying to say the least, and Azazel knew it. And as Percy eyed the man – no not man, monster – with something akin to fear (but wasn't), the yellow-eyed man busied himself with dripping a few more drops of blood into the infant's mouth, and Percy was too late to stop it. As soon as the man was done, he grinned and looked back up at the father he had just fought, eyed the man, and with a careless toss of his hand, sent the baby flying up into the air.
It was when all of Percy's attention was caught trying to catch his – Annabeth's – child that the man had mysteriously disappeared.
The haunted feeling in his head stayed there for the next few years, and with it, stayed the dark look in his eyes. It didn't matter what his friends told him – she died in a fire! There was nothing you could've done – Percy still had nightmares about the incident that had shaken him so badly – helpless, fear, whycouldn'thedoanything.
-0-
"This it?"
"Yeah, I think so. At least, the address is right."
"Then what are we waiting for? Christmas?" The shorter on said as he rang the doorbell.
The taller one rolled his eyes, familiar with the older one's antics and waited patiently for the door to open.
The soft click of the door was drowned out by the wailing of a baby, and both of then gapped at the youngish-looking male.
Their obviously shock looks didn't deter the young man from enquiring curiously, "Yes? How may I help you?"
The tall, obviously muscular brunet looked down – literally – at him after sharing a glance with the other one.
"Hi, are you Perseus Jackson? My name's Sam and this is Dean, my brother," he said, gesturing to the male beside him before turning his attention back to Percy, "We need your help."