Riptide
achieving elysium

chapter two: journey


If someone had asked if there was one thing Percy Jackson hated more than standardized testing or Olympus, he would probably tell them waiting. He hated waiting, despised waiting - which was saying something, since there weren't many things that he really, really hated.

Percy glanced at the time and grimaced. 3:49. The train was supposed to arrive four minutes ago, at three forty-five, but it hadn't come. In the four minutes, Percy had wasted a dollar in a vending machine (see, he'd gotten the dam thing and held it for two seconds before it was knocked out of his hand and trampled by a horde of kids), (partially) broken the strap of his duffel bag, almost pulled out Riptide a few times (an accident), and had wondered if there had ever been a weapon that shrank to a paint can (reason being, he had the urge to cover half the train station in Celestial Bronze paint in his frustration as an act of vandalism).

Percy checked the time again. It was still 3:49.

"Gods," he declared, lifting his face to the sky. "I know your powers are kaput here, but I feel like you've set some terrible must-wait-a-long-time curse on me. Seriously? That's what you think of?"

There was no reply, obviously.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. A cold breeze blew through, and fingers made of ice trailed along his bare skin. He shivered, wrapping his jacket tighter around himself.

"Would it be faster to walk?" he mumbled, staring at the empty train station. "That'd make my life so much easier."

A dog barked loudly, high-pitched with the most annoying sound he'd ever heard. He glanced next to him to see a Chihuahua straining at the end of its leash, yapping at what appeared to be a piece of gum stuck on the floor. In his mind, he pictured a different Chihuahua, one more deadly and dangerous - though maybe less annoying. At least the Chimera had tried to kill him with poison rather than barking at him.

3:50.

Finally, the train arrived, and people flocked to the edge, ready to climb on even before the train stopped. When it did, a flood of people pushed and shoved their way in; Percy followed a smaller crowd that would hopefully mean more privacy and no Chihuahuas.

Thankfully, Percy found a window seat with no one next to him and also no Chihuahuas, fire-breathing or not. He was pretty sure he'd have noticed if there were.

"Thank the gods," Percy muttered, but he caught himself on the last word. Thank the... gods. The ones he'd left behind to lounge on their thrones and watch as their children died.

But then again, he mused, setting his duffel bag next to him and staring out the window at the bleak landscape, thank the Titans didn't really have the same ring to it. Neither did Kronos or Gaea, two of Olympus' worst enemies.

Oh, yes, he thought dryly. My train is late, thank Kronos.

With that happy thought, the train began to move. Percy stared at the window and hoped he wouldn't have to thank Kronos for much else.

Three hours later, standing on a train platform and watching the train leave, Percy realized that he'd jinxed himself. Now, things would take forever.

"Fuck you, Kronos," he muttered. Just like the gods, there was no answer. Percy shivered. He hadn't particularly wanted one, anyway.

He took a second to look around. The place was still exactly as he remembered it, which was both a good and bad thing. There was a payphone, silver and blue at the edge of the platform. Percy paused before rushing over to it. He didn't know what he was doing, and he knew that this could end very, very badly. Phone calls were traceable, weren't they?

Still, he found himself pushing his spare change into the slot and punching a familiar number.

It would be about eight in New York. Paul liked turning on music at this time, and the soft singing of the radio would drift through the apartment. He'd grade papers while sitting on the couch. His mom loved writing in the evening, humming along to the ballads and yelling at either Percy or Paul about inspiration when she got stuck.

The likelihood that one of them would pick up the phone... well, it was very high. But it was too late to go back now; he'd pressed the call button. The payphone stand dug into his waist, and he tugged at the coiled phone wire thing he had never learned the name of as he waited.

Ring. Ring.

Then: "Hello?"

"Mom, is that you?" His hand stilled.

"Percy?" He closed his eyes.

"Yeah... yeah, it's me." His voice sounded rough and harsh.

"Oh, gods, Percy. Where are you?"

Remember, he told himself. Remember your promise. He took a deep breath, resolved. "I can't... I can't tell you, Mom. I... sorry."

"Percy," she sighed on the other end. "You're safe, though?" Percy looked up, eyeing a nearby person who was watching him. A demigod; he could tell.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he told her. He hated the lie, of course, but at least there was some truth to it. "Mom, please don't worry about me."

"Percy, you can't ask that of me. I'm going to worry."

"I'll be fine," he ground out. "Look, Mom... please don't come looking for me, okay? Don't trace this number, don't tell anyone about me leaving-"

"What about the gods, Percy? You remember what happened last time. And the camps were thrown into complete chaos. What's going on?" Percy barely processed her words. There was a flash of black out of the corner of his eye. Feeling watched, he turned very, very slowly.

"Um," he said, pausing in his answer. He met the gaze of beady black eyes. "The gods know where I'm going. I've made it clear to them. And Camp... well, they'll just have to deal with it on their own." Just like with everything else. A bitterness had crept into his voice.

"Percy-"

The raven perched on top of a sign suddenly launched itself off and flew straight at Percy. He let out a breath of air, heart beating erratically, as the giant bird landed on the payphone box. It cocked its head at him and let out a soft croak.

"Mom," he interrupted, keeping his eyes on the raven. "I have to go soon."

"Percy, wait-"

"Listen to me," he hissed down the line, impatient but without malice. "Listen to me very carefully, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "I don't know if I'm coming back from this. I don't know exactly where I'm going or what I'm going to be asked to do. Some of those things... they're going to go against everything you taught me, and I'm sorry for it. I dunno what's gonna happen to me, Mom, and I'm not gonna lie - I'm scared."

"Percy, please, you don't have to do this."

"I do have to do this. Look, I don't have any time left. Just listen, okay? I love you. Just in case this is the last time I'll ever speak to you... in case you find out what's going on and begin to hate me-"

"I could never hate you."

"Yes," he told her, looking at the raven. "You will hate me. But... I love you, okay? I love you." He hung up before she could respond. There. Everything was in place now. Then he curled his fingers around the ballpoint pen in his pocket.

"I'm ready," he said, looking up at the raven. Beady eyes examined him, old and powerful.

"Follow me, half-blood," it croaked, the voice raspy. Then it flapped its wings - once, twice, three times - and began heading for Hubbard Glacier in the distance. A perfect black feather drifted to the ground, and Percy picked it up, marveling at it.

Then he ran after the bird and prayed he was going the right way.

Two hours later, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, and Percy was ready to collapse on the nearest riverbank to drink the clearest water he'd probably ever taste. Or scoop up some snow, whichever was more convenient.

His legs were aching. His arms were tired from the strain of hefting his duffel bag and clearing his own path through the wilderness. He was hungry, too, though he'd pulled out a packet of dried nuts and fruits he'd packed for his journey.

Not to mention the gods-damned mosquitoes. They were in the Alaskan wilderness in winter. It was freezing cold, he thought his butt was going to fall off, and there were still mosquitoes. Apparently, his half-blood half-ichor was a delicious combination, and the first mosquito had spread the word to all his buddies.

He slapped at a black speck and sighed. "Can we stop?" he called up to the raven, still flying. It made a u-turn in the sky and came wheeling back, landing on the branch of a nearby tree. "Geez, why is this place so far?"

"My Lady makes it to be."

Percy glared at the offending bird. "It was rhetorical question," he told it, sitting down on a log. Two hours of hiking through miserable Alaskan wilderness - trees, snow, boulders, monsters, and all. All of his demigod training had done little to help.

"Are we close?" he asked, eyeing Hubbard Glacier, a grey form in the distance. Last time, they'd taken a boat there from Anchorage, cutting across the ocean. But there was land, too, cities like College Fjord and Valdez and Cordova, all terrible names, though he was sure Leo might've protested had he been here. So even though he'd pulled the son of Poseidon card, the raven had been adamant on going over land, though he wasn't sure why.

"Closer still can we be."

Percy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Lead the way, bird-o," he said, standing up to stretch. This had better be worth it.

A couple (hundred?) tiring miles later, the raven told him that they had reached their destination.

"You're kidding," Percy said, raising a hand to scratch an eyebrow. "We're really here, Mr. GPS?"

If the bird could roll its eyes, it probably would. "We have arrived, home we have found."

Percy paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. Home we have found, it'd said. Not home like with his mom and Paul, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafting through, the apartment, not home like... like Camp Half-Blood, so safe and comfortable. But it would be a different home, and that was enough.

He ducked under a branch and froze. His first thought went something like: Not like Camp at all.

It wasn't all bleak and dreary like he'd expected. He'd kind of imagined some poor refugee camp, with thin, flapping tents and demigods half-freezing their butts off, huddled in circles, trying to stay warm as they sharpened their weapons or whatever.

As far as Percy could tell, it was nothing like he'd thought it would be.

"Camp Ichor," a voice called, and Percy's hand went for his pocket, where Riptide was. He didn't draw it, though; this person would be his friend and not an enemy. "Welcome."

"Um, thanks," Percy replied as a guy stepped out from one of the tents. He was maybe a few years older than him, early twenties, probably. He was the one with obvious authority. The guy looked like an Ares kid: big, bad, and mean. He was pretty tall, with dark skin and black hair. Lighter scars covered his arms; a wicked one was straight along his cheek, as if someone had thrown a knife at him. He was dressed in army green, a vest over a black tee and pants.

"The name's Bryce," he continued, holding out a hand to shake.

"Percy." They shook hands. Bryce had a strong grip. He was left-handed, Percy noted, a part of his brain filing away every detail he could find.

"Percy," Bryce mused, looking him up and down. The teen in question sighed, knowing what was coming next. "Percy, as in Percy Jackson? Savior of Olympus and whatever shit they're feeding those half-bloods?"

He winced and snapped back. "I did save Olympus." Then he shrugged, giving Bryce a cold, sharp smile. "and now I wanna destroy it."

Bryce nodded, clasping Percy's shoulder. "Understandable. Big change, though." He laughed loudly. "Now, c'mon, I'll show you around and then introduce you to My Lady."

Percy nodded, something dark inside of him twisting and turning. "Lead the way."

As he followed Bryce deeper into the camp, he hoped he'd made the right choice by coming here. The raven on his shoulder cawed and did nothing to calm the small seed of doubt that had begun to grow.


And here's the first chapter in Percy's POV! I know it's short and kind of boring, but we're going to see who this "Lady" is soon enough unless I spoiled it in the summary? I'll have to check.

And I know he might seem OOC, but please remember the Percy you're seeing right now is one who is actively choosing to betray and hopefully take down Olympus. Just something to remember.

Also future cussing as a warning, though I'll try really hard to tone it down. (Please tell me if this story deserves a M rating, okay?)

Next up, Annabeth. (And Sally and Paul and kind of Zeus in a way.)

So what are your thoughts on the beginnings of dark!Percy?

achieving elysium