Author's Note: For obvious reasons, I won't be touching the cabins of Hera and Artemis. I will be including the Hades one, though.
The siren was what awoke Thalia Grace. She opened her sleep-crusted eyes to the sounds of chaotic organisation. Grabbing a gas mask off her nightstand, she rushed out of her house.
The sky was grey like a pale dawn; it was half past two. Across the street, a harried teacher was leading a line of children towards a shelter. Their grubby fingers smeared with jam had tiny gas masks dangling off them.
A wail pierced the air and Thalia cursed. There were always people who would start to panic. Goddammit, this was London in 1940, did they honestly expect anything different?
The air had begun to crust a harsh black and urgent footsteps crushed the street; fear was rampant but they were after all, British.
A steady drone chilled her bones to river-ice. Screams punctuated the afternoon and the sky was suddenly filled an approaching horde of Luftwaffe planes. The harried walking turned into runs as people trembled their way to the underground.
Caught up in the rapids, Thalia was pushed backwards and forwards and she found herself a little ways off the pavement; she had just about fallen to the ground.
"Need my help, miss?" This was one of the Americans, she could tell from his accent. He had blue eyes and blonde hair.
"Yes, thank you."
The first bomb hit; the street was mostly empty.
It was a row of houses a few minutes away from them. The dusty grey smouldered into a deadly palette of fiery ribbons as the acrid sting of smoke kissed the day. Thalia felt her heart race as her sky was filled with more of the beasts.
"Better get to the shelter." The soldier rushed, panic evident on his face. She briefly registered that he had a scar.
"Oh, yes." She found out that she had time for sarcastic bastardy. "I just about forgot!"
He was about to make a retort that would have been lost over the gargling mess when a brittle cry raised their eyes to one of the nearby houses.
The sky was now orange as well.
It was hardly pretty.
Actually, it was devastatingly, painfully beautiful.
"There's a kid in there!" Thalia shouted as she and the soldier rushed towards the brick façade of the suspicious house.
"I'll go get him and you make your way down the shelter, miss, I must insist!"
"Oh, shut it!"
They both ran towards the house, the cries and the scraping of the planes getting louder as the fire rose.
They fumbled a bit with the pale blue door but luckily it was left unlocked. Hurtling up the staircases where the cries were echoing from, they bumped into one another.
Another resounding crash sent the ground underneath their feet vibrating madly; plates shattered towards the linoleum from the kitchen.
The frantic screaming was shuddering its way out of the cracks on a plain oaken door. The soldier pressed it open.
The child was a girl with a tumbling of blonde curls with grey eyes. She couldn't have been more than five.
"Where are your mum and dad?" Thalia cooed comfortingly as she made to pick the girl up but the soldier beat her to it, putting his strong arms around the child. The cries subsided a little.
Another boom sent them crashing to the floor. Pictures in gilded frames smashed towards the ground. Outside, London burned as it wept.
"There's no time for the shelter!" The soldier yelled, "We need to find a table, or a… a…"
"Will this work?" Thalia asked, raising her voice over the renewed crying of the girl. She pointed towards a piano.
"I suppose!"
They crawled towards it as the child continued to wail; finally, they squashed up next to each other. The bombing continued, raining down in a violent cacophony.
"I'm Castellan by the way!" The soldier shouted in a futile attempt to keep things normal. "Luke Castellan!"
"People don't normally start introductions with their last name!"
"Well then, what's yours?"
"Grace! Thalia!"
"Oh, you just had to!"
"Chase, Annabeth!" The girl shouted, obviously wanting to join the game. Luke managed a chuckle.
They had no idea how much time was passing as they scrunched together, each desperately praying that none of the bombs would fall on that particular house; and if they did, that that piano would, by sheer luck, be enough to shield them.
Maybe it'll be my saving grace, Thalia thought and immediately hated herself for entertaining such a terrible pun.
Finally, finally it ended. Thalia made to get herself out from that stuffy piano after a few minutes of breath-taking silence, but Luke motioned her to wait. A few more minutes later, he gave the all-clear and they scrambled out.
Annabeth rushed towards the window and pressed her face against the sooty glass. Through a haze of dusty shades, they could see the outlines of houses.
"Anything hit on this street?" Thalia asked as she hurried over.
"Mum. Dad." The little girl muttered, her eyes starting to water. Thalia smoothed her hair half-sadly.
"I'm sure they made it to the shelter."
"Would you like us to take you there?" Luke asked.
Annabeth nodded, hurrying down the stairs. The other followed behind.
"So, the military eh?"
"Well, Uncle Sam said he wanted us. So"
"So…"
"You have any relatives serving?"
"My brother Jason, yes. He's… well we're not sure, really. He faked his age and signed up. I'm proud of him." She finished defensively.
Luke snorted. "Same story as half my squad."
Outside, people were starting to appear. Families grabbed hold of another. Sobs and cries of relief cut through the smog. Thalia blinked crusty dust out of her eyes.
They saw the blonde curls rush into the arms of a man in a creased suit, the worry in his eyes crumbling to crushed roses as they embraced.
"Well, there's that taken care of."
Luke nodded.
"You're going to France after this?"
His brow creased. "Honestly? No idea. I kind of hope so, though. Not that London's bad, I mean…" He said quickly.
"It just rains a lot."
"Pretty much." He smiled.
An old man next to them has stiffened his shoulders, his eyes dark with the destruction.
"I'll see you around, I suppose." Thalia said, somewhat regretfully.
"Before I get shipped off, hopefully."
Thalia smiled.