Percy Burns an Orphanage
Somewhere, Sometime
Percy woke up with a pounding headache floating on his back in the middle of the ocean. A major problem for most, but more of an inconvenience for Percy. The harsh sun, burning his face. Schist, he needed to finish his quest. He knew exactly where he was, no not exactly the middle of the ocean, just a couple miles from the coast of Florida. Percy drew on the power of the ocean and attempted to swim home, or at least Florida. Percy, normally a great swimmer, instead of executing a flawless form, vomited so violently he passed out again.
Percy woke up a few minutes later or so he thought. Except, that he was in a pond. He could clearly see the land surround the pound in the morning sun. It had been midday a couple of minutes ago, had he really wasted all day? And how did he get out of the ocean, his sense had ever lied to him especially not when he was at the source of his power. He knew that he had been in the ocean like he knew his name is Percy Jackson. With a loud growl, his stomach reminded him how much he had truly thrown up. The hunger pains were worse than his killer headache. This time, however, he managed to swim for shore. Aside from the fishes in the pond, the was absolutely nothing to eat. He would rather eat himself than eat his friends, on some level it was cannibalism. He slowly made his way to the shoreline hoping to find something edible. He was beyond tired, his whole body ached like he had just finished an intense workout or battled a giant. But after a while, he made it to the shore. However, his plans were foiled after as soon as he reached land when his vision clouded, and his throat burned.
Percy woke up again. He was starving. He was in the mountains, so high up he was in the clouds. He was also pretty sure he was going to die. The air was thin, it was beyond freezing, and if Zeus didn't shoot him of this stupid mountain, then he was going to die of starvation. Percy was so grateful that he passed out that he didn't even question why he's shirt felt huge on him.
This happened over and over again and again. Percy literally felt that he hadn't eaten in years. He would literally kill for a cheeseburger. And fries. And a vanilla milkshake. Ok, at this point he would literally take anything as long as it was food. He was powerless to do more than just lay there most of the time. Only when he appeared in water was he able to do more than just pass out, but he never got very far. Sometimes he would be shorter and skinnier, drowning in his clothes. Other times, he would be older, his hands appearing to be drier and wrinkled. His face covered in short stubble. Either way, he completely freaked out every single time he woke up. The was either in a new place or his body had changed or both. Either way, not good. So, when the opportunity presented itself, Percy did something he never thought he would. He ate grass. Like a cow. Grass. A demigod ate grass from the ground. To his defense, he had eaten anything in forever. Also, there was nobody around and it wasn't like Percy would willingly admit anything like that. Since it didn't appear that he was going to die anytime soon, this was pure torture. He needed something in his stomach and his pride took the backseat for a while.
Imagine his surprise when his stomach settled, and he managed to stay in the grassy land he found himself in. He stayed longer than he had in one single place. However, it wasn't long before he passed out again. He had found the key to staying in a single place was to eat continuously. The problem was there was that there never seemed to be food around him, and grass only delayed his disappearance a half an hour at best.
Percy woke up like usual, with his head and stomach battling for which could cause him the most pain. This time, however, it seemed that all his prayers had come true. He had woken draped over a kitchen stove only an arm's reach away from a huge platter of cookies on the counter. They looked to be chocolate chip cookies, too. They were Percy's favorite even if they weren't blue. He flopped like a fish without water as he desperately reached to get the platter. Percy gobbled down the cookies like there was no tomorrow. His stomach growl in response since it wasn't used to food. Percy didn't care, he wasn't going to stop eating anytime soon. In his hurried state, he failed to notice two important things. One, his itty-bitty feet did not reach the ground and his arms couldn't reach past the stove. He had to crawl across the stove to get to the cookies. Secondly, and most importantly, he had kicked on the bottom burner of the stove. It just so happened, that part of his shirt was covering that burner.
He had set himself on fire, again. This time he truly did not care, because he had spotted a fridge. That's right more food. With a show of brilliance and stupidity that only Percy is capable of, he took off his shirt and sent it flying into one of the wooden staircases in the other room. It quickly caught on fire as one would except. Percy was too busy alternating between shoving food into his face and the pockets of his oversized pants to notice anything was wrong.
He did notice anything usually until he heard the disorganized screams and shouts as a herd of children of various ages ran past the kitchen and spilled into the front yard. Percy had cleaned out most of the fridge at this point. Taking what was left of the Shepherd's pie, Percy went to investigate. He wasn't sure at what he was looking, whatever it was it was quickly being reduced to fire and brick. And it was spreading to the kitchen! Before, he could run off to save whatever food was felt in the cupboards, a huge black and yellow arm wrapped around his waist. Despite his protest, he was thrown outside as the firemen fought to control the fire. The full moon shone brightly against the pitch-black sky.
He made his way toward the group of nuns and kids huddled under a huge oak tree. Luckily, the mist or maybe the shock of watching their home burn to a crisp, made it so Percy was able to join the group with questioning. He continued to eat his shepherd's pie as the fire slowly died. The rising sun revealed that most of the younger kids had cried themselves to sleep. Percy, on the other hand, had eaten himself into a deep, dreamless sleep. Crumbs stuck to his face, and a mouthful still in his mouth. Even in his sleep, he was desperate to continue eating. Meanwhile, the nuns talked in hushed tones as to what they should do. It was decided that all the older kids would be sent to foster homes or orphanages with open bunks. All the younger children, those that were incapable of caring for themselves would go with the nuns to a sister covenant until the orphanage until it was rebuilt.
Mother Elizabeth was not a woman easily shaken. Everything that happened -will happen- is God's will. The burning of the orphanage, while tragic, was God's will, too. She prayed to the Virgin Mary to watch over her kids knowing this would be the last time she would see many of them. A few, like Matthew and John, had been with her since their birth, she watched them grow into the young men they were today. After 13 long years, today would be the last day she would share with them. They were among the majority that would be sent to another orphanage rather than follow her to the covenant. As much as it hurt her, that too was God's will. A couple of disheartening calls later, she was forced to hold back tears. Of all the places she called, not a single one place was able to take more than a couple of children. Her children had lost their home and now they were about to lose what was left of their family. Adoption was not very common in the small rural town of Blackawton in Devon, England. For goodness sake, their post office was run by volunteers. Most of the children found on the footsteps of Blackawton Orphanage were to spend the rest of their childhood with the nuns. It was the only orphanage for miles. There weren't that many in all of England, to begin with. Mother Elizabeth did everything in her power to make it a home. She steeled her nerves and reminded herself of God's will. She would proceed with God's plan. Some of her kids would be shipped across the English Channel to Rennes, France while others would be sent as far north as Wales.
The 21 of her children would be sent to 10 different orphanages and 4 of her nuns would accompany them. Mother Elizabeth and Sister Sara would stay to take care of the 5 underage children between 6 months and 5 years old. It wasn't long before the money had been withdrawn from the accounts and vans to be called; a plan was set in motion. Kids were awaked and take to a van; she tried her best to keep those she knew were close together hoping they could find comfort in the familiar. She was left to round up the remaining children. Sara has been holding on to Sophia, the 6-month old since the fire had started. Adrian, Oliver, and Charlie had fallen asleep on the foot of the tree. Careful not to awaken him, Mother Elizabeth carefully picked up Adrian and took him to the van waiting for them. She did the same for the other two. She found Patience clutching her doll, but otherwise awake and motioned for her to follow.
The oldest of the youngest looked so unlike herself. The seriousness of her face making her look wise beyond her 5 years. It was a look that no child should know. With all the kids safely in the van, she motioned for the driver to start their journey.
"Mother, are we just going to leave him?" Patience asked with genuine curiosity.
"Who?" Mother Elizabeth asked. Patience was not known for lying or having imaginary friends.
"The naked boy," Patience simply answered pointing out the window. Mother Elizabeth looked outside, too. To her surprise, she saw the legs of a pair of jeans sticking out from behind the oak tree. How had she missed him? She quickly told the driver to stop and went back to retrieve the boy. Behind the tree, was a small boy about four or five surrounded by crumbs. His pants were several sizes too big and he wasn't wearing a shirt. As shook him awake, more like to a state of semi-consciousness, he mumbled the answer to her questions. He was Percy Jackson. Percy Jackson. With a sudden breeze her the name seemed to click.
Holy Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus, it was Percy Jackson. The poor boy had been half-starved when Mother Elizabeth had found him on her footsteps. He would constantly slip down to the kitchen to look for more food, terrified of starving regardless of how many times the Sisters would reassure him. Over the past months, Percy still hadn't opened up to anybody there. The only thing he knew was his name, Percy Jackson. Poor boy, he must have been truly frightened by the fire to forget to put on his shirt. Thankful, the van was warm.
Mother Elizabeth careful picked him up, careful not spill the food in his pockets. With the way he carried his food, she wondered how they didn't have a rat problem. Maybe they did? Now that she thought about it she remembered hearing Sister Abi's screams whenever she encountered a rodent. With that thought, she quickly made her way to the van disgusted with herself as to how she could forget this precious little boy. The fire has shaken her more than she thought. With God's Grace, they would overcome this.
"We are good to go. Percy was asleep behind the tree." And with that Mother Elizabeth left the only home she had known. She, herself, had been an orphan here. After becoming a nun, she had followed God's plan back home to Blackawton. Forty years later, she was only now leaving her home for real
Percy has made it to England!
Make sure to review the story! Also what house should Percy be in? In stuck between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Its been a while since I read the books, both the Harry Potter and Percy Jackson ones, but I've read a lot of crossover fanfictions. Or should I put him in Slytherin and make him Dark!Percy?
Thanks, Raven :)
