Author's Note: Alright, how could I NOT do something for Thalia Grace on her birthday? Come on, Thalia's my favorite character in the whole series, second only to Percy. Thalia's actually my favorite female book character ever. She's so…amazing, and BA, and her younger brother is Jason. Dude, you've got one heck of an older sister.

Speaking of older siblings, for some reason I haven't written Jason/Thalia fic yet. So here is the beginning of one, based on the song "Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back" by My Chemical Romance. I heard the second verse and was like, "Whoa…that's SO Thalia and Jason." Unfortunately I have not yet written that part of the fic. This is probably a three-shot at most.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own this awesome song, nor do I own Thalia…though I wish I was Thalia. Awww…

Okay, so enjoy this first part!

In camp, there aren't many iPods for people to plug themselves into, but Apollo kids love their music. Especially the Greek Apollo kids. So it was easy to borrow an iPod from one of the girls. The song I saw on her screen brought back flashes of…something. So I asked to borrow it. She let me.

Now, I find myself sitting alone in my dark, empty cabin, lying on my side, sleepily looking at pictures of my sister. I'm glad she left them behind before she joined the Hunters of Artemis. It is a little easier to jog my memory when I can see her face. Granted, I'm not trying to stir up recent memories. I'm not even trying to recall back my Camp Jupiter memories. In fact, they're very early, from when I was a toddler. But those memories seemed to stick with me so well.

I'm listening to a song that I'm positive I listened to at Camp Jupiter. My head is throbbing, trying to grasp the pieces and put them back together. One way to cure a headache is to remove earbuds, but I can't. This song feels like a bridge between Thalia and me. As I listen to the song on loop, a memory resurfaces.

A party was going on downstairs. My mother was the hostess. So many famous people were down there, laughing and talking. Mother told Thalia and me to stay upstairs, out of everyone's way. So we did.

Thalia was lying upside down on her bed in our room, her head hanging from the foot of the bed. Thalia's hair…it was long, and curled for the evening. (Thalia hated it, but mother insisted.) She was listening to loud music.

Thalia's music matched her. It was loud and angry and emotional, with singers who screamed the words rather than singing them, and Thalia screamed along with them, which usually happened after she and Mother had a fight.

While Thalia cranked up the stereo, I tried to build a block tower. The blocks kept toppling to the ground, and I finally let out a toddler's scream of frustration, feeling tears pool in my eyes. Thalia turned toward me and got up from her bed. She sat cross-legged in front of me and gave me a gentle smile that she saved especially for me. "Don't cry, little brother," she murmured. "Try again. You can do it." She wiped the tears from my chubby cheeks and ran a hand over my blond hair.

Thalia was like that. She loved me, but she hated everything else, or at least seemed to. She hated Mother. I knew that. She said so. She always threatened to do something really drastic. She always talked about running away. But I knew she wouldn't. She would never leave me behind, and I was too young to take with her. So she tried her best to spite Mother. She wore dark clothes instead of the pink dresses Mother bought for her. She wore her hair in extreme styles instead of the pretty princess-like ones chosen for her. She listened to loud, screaming music instead of quietly entertaining her baby brother.

Mother threw open the door, leaning heavily against it, like she was off-balance. Her words were slurred as she screamed at Thalia to turn the music down. "I have guests downstairs, girl! Guests wondering where that stupid racket is coming from!"

Thalia glared at Mother with her electric blue eyes. "Come back and tell me that when you're sober!" she yelled back.

Mother's eyes flared. "Don't you dare talk to me that way!"

"No! I'll talk to you however you deserve to be talked to!" Thalia snapped.

That's when Mother grabbed Thalia by her long hair and tossed her to the ground like a rag doll. Thalia and I both cried out—Thalia in pain, me with fear and shock. I expected my sister to turn around and do something in response, but Thalia stayed on her hands and knees, glaring at the floor, shaking with anger. I saw a tear roll down her cheek.

"Now be quiet," Mother muttered menacingly. "You don't want me to come back up here."

She slammed the door on her way out.

That's why Mother scared me. She was just as loud and angry as Thalia. I wasn't afraid of Thalia because Thalia showed me her soft side. Thalia was loud and angry because Mother made her loud and angry. I don't think Mother had a soft side. She was just loud and angry all the time for no reason. Thalia said it was because the stuff she drank made her like that. I didn't understand why Mother would drink something to make her like that.

I glanced nervously at my sister, who was still on the floor, in the exact same spot Mother had left her. "Sis?" I said quietly. (I couldn't quite pronounce her name yet, so I just called her "sis.")

Thalia was breathing heavily. "Fine," she muttered with a shaky voice. "If that's how you want it, fine." She shot to her feet, wildly looking around the room for something. Finally she found it—a pair of scissors. She stormed over to retrieve them from her desk and held them in her hands.

I was confused. Why did she need scissors?

"I promise you, I'm never letting you treat my hair like that again," she growled. Then, she gathered her hair beautiful curly long hair into her fist and raised the scissors to her hair.

My eyes went wide and I stared at her in horror. "No! Sis, don't!" I yelled.

"Jason, shush," she hissed.

"No!" I pleaded. "Your hair's pretty!"

"I don't like it anymore," she snapped. "I don't want it anymore." She opened the pair of scissors, but I leapt at her, trying to grab her hand. She just took a step away from me. I tried again, and again, and again, but she was too tall for me. Finally, she grew frustrated and yelled, "Jason, stop it!" as she dodged my last attempt to stop her. I fell to the ground on my hands and knees in tears as she cut off her beautiful ponytail. I watched helplessly as her dark hair fluttered to the floor.

Finally, when Thalia's hair was short and messy and boyish, she threw the scissors to the wall, where the blades lodged themselves. The sudden thud made me jump. Thalia stared at her reflection in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her new haircut, and some loose hairs fell on her shoulders. Then she gained this strange expression—a smile, but a bittersweet smile, like she was satisfied, but not happy with what she had just done. "That's better," she muttered. "What do you think, Jason?"

I shook my head, still crying. "No," I sobbed. "Your hair was pretty."

Thalia kneeled down in front of me, so that our eyes met. Then she extended her arms and wrapped them around me. "I'm sorry if I upset you, Jason," she murmured. "You know I love you a lot. More than anything."

A knock at the door pulls me out of the flashback. I'm shaking a little bit as I open it.

It's Annabeth. "We were looking for you at the campfire," she says.

Oh, right. The campfire. I'd skipped it to come back here. "I'm sorry," I tell her. And I mean it. I'm not sure if she believes me, though.

She raises an eyebrow and looks at the iPod in my hand. I realize the earbuds are still in my ears. "Where'd you get that?" she asks.

"Anna, from the Apollo cabin," I answer. "She let me borrow it. I was just going to return it to her."

"What song are you listening to?" Annabeth asks, looking at the screen. I show her the title of the so familiar song. When she reads the title, she frowns. "That's funny," she mutters.

My brows furrow, too. "Why?" I ask.

Annabeth shakes her head, and seemed pretty amused. "Thalia loves that song," she tells me. "I went to boarding school with her for half a year, and she never stopped playing that song in our room. I asked her why she loved it so much, but she just told me she didn't know." She looked at me curiously. "There's no way you could've gotten it from her, could you?"

My ears are ringing, and it isn't from the alt rock music blasting. "No," I say. "But I saw Anna listening to it, and I asked her if I could borrow her iPod, because it reminded me of my old camp. I think…I feel like I listened to it a lot back at my old camp. It…" I look down at the floor. "It reminded me of Thalia," I admit.

Annabeth looks at me with a sympathetic expression. "Why?" she finally asks me.

I shrug, unsure of how to answer her. "I don't know," I say. "She always played music like that when we were kids…and I feel like…it's something she would say to me if she could."

The chorus plays back in my ears as I talk to Annabeth: We could leave this world, leave it all behind. We could steal this car if your folks don't mind. We could live forever, if you've got the time…so just save yourself, and I'll hold them back tonight.

"That's because it is," a new voice calls behind Annabeth. My eyes focus on the darkness behind her, and a familiar face appears. Her hair is a little longer, but still choppy like she attacked it with a pair of scissors. The silver jacket and silver tiara contrast against her dark clothes and hair.

"Thalia," I breathe.

She smiles, her electric blue eyes sparkling. "Hey, little brother."

Okay…so weird place to stop, I know. I'm sorry. But I promise the next part is coming soon. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THALIA GRACE!

Tell me what you think of this. I even think about this song with regards to how I feel about my own little sister. Oh, goodness…how I love this song. It's my favorite as of…a couple months ago.

If Athenasgirl from YouTube has a fanfiction account, shout-out to her for putting this song in her chatbox! Or else I never would've fallen in love with it!

Thanks so much!

~Mandi2341