Wow, I've actually managed to get 3 chapters written and up. Hopefully, I can at least make sure you guys don't have to wait about 6 months for updates. At least I'll do my best to.
Disclaimer, I do not own Percy Jackson, all rights belong to Rick Riordan
The last trace Tyson found of Percy was in a grungy alley. His sent disappeared. At first Tyson felt as if he would cry. Where was his friend? He shambled listlessly around the alley, desperately looking for a trace of Percy. To his dismay there was nothing. His search for Chiron had also come to a dead end.
With a sniffle, the cyclops leaned against the wall of the alley. He could feel the brick crack under his weight, he'd have to apologize when he got the chance. People didn't appreciate it when Tyson accidently broke their things. Usually they threw things at him and shouted bad words. Not, Percy though, never Percy. Percy was nice.
Tyson sat in the dirty alley biting his lip and trying not to cry like a baby when his stomach growled. Maybe he could go back to the hospital and see how Stinky was doing. The nurses might be nice enough to give him another peanut-butter sandwich again. He hoped they'd be nice enough to give him something to eat. With Percy's bag held tightly in his arms, Tyson left the alley-way.
People on the streets tended to veer around him, avoiding him as if he looked as mean and scary as Matt Sloan. Sometimes he'd catch them saying something about his appearance, others would duck into buildings as if they thought he'd attack them. Did he really look that mean? Tyson did his best to be nice to others. He didn't want to be a big bully like the other cyclops, Percy didn't like bullies and neither did Tyson.
There were many restaurants that Tyson had to pass by as he walked back to the hospital. He tried not to pay too much attention to the tables loaded with yummy smelling food. There wasn't peanut butter in any of it, but at the rate his stomach was growling, Tyson was just about ready to accept anything. Even the table scraps. Anything to get his stomach to stop hurting.
"Listen, Mr. Brunner." A particularly loud voice cut through his thoughts. "I just want to see Percy for myself. Losing his mother isn't something he should go through with strangers. He's all I have left of Sally, please, just let me talk with him."
Percy? Tyson thought as he eyed the dining patio. Does he mean my friend?
The cyclops tried to be sneaky, working his way towards the source of the voice. There were two men sitting at a table, one in a rolley chair looking stiff and uncomfortable, the other looked a bit younger and very serious. Tyson did his best to hide from the two men's sights. Who knew if they were even talking about Percy Jackson. There could be many other 'Percy's' that Tyson didn't know.
That didn't stop him from hoping it was his friend they were talking about.
Tyson crossed his fingers and squeezed his eye shut tightly, "Please, Please, please let them be talking about my friend."
He didn't know who he was pleading to, maybe daddy, but it seems that they answered his request.
"I assure you Paul, Mr. Jackson is perfectly safe with us." The man in the wheel chair assured 'Paul'. "I promise that once Percy feels up to talking, I will have him call you."
Tyson opened his eye and he could see the younger man grit his teeth in irritation, "I don't want to start an argument with you, Mr. Brunner. You seem like a nice man and Percy was doing well surrounded by kids his age, but frankly, I don't know you. Percy is only fourteen and orphaned. I think he'd be better off living with me, he knows me. His well being is my number one concern."
Mr. Brunner scratched at his bearded face looking as if he were almost unable to put his thoughts into words. Tyson tried to remember what 'orphaned' meant. Since when was Percy an orphan? Wasn't that what the people at the school used to call Tyson? He knew the teachers would call him that whenever they whispered to one another. If he'd ask they would never explain the word, they'd only frown and look sad, like they ate some really bad peanut butter.
"I promise Mr. Blofis, when Percy is able, I will have him contact you. In the mean time I should return to the home, the children need me." The man in the wheel chair scooted back and forth nervously as he spoke. As he began to roll away from the table Paul stood, reached out desperately and stopped the chair. Even Tyson was startled by the action.
"I didn't want to resort to this because I believe you have a good cause, but if I don't see Percy, here by this time Saturday afternoon. I will get in contact with the police." Paul sounded very serious and very angry. Tyson decided that Paul must care about Percy too. "You have four days."
Slowly, reluctantly, Paul released the chair.
Mr. Brunner looked almost pained, rushing from the restaurant like he had forgotten to buy bread or peanut butter for his home. "I'll do my best to have Percy here on Saturday, Mr. Blofis, I promise."
And in a flash, the wheel bound man was gone.
Tyson watched as Paul plopped back down in his chair. He almost looked like a puppet whose string had been cut. Paul wasn't Chiron, but he seemed to know Percy and he was going to have the wheel man bring Percy to him in four days. It was longer than Tyson would have liked, though as long as he got to see Percy again, he didn't mind. Paul looked a bit upset, Tyson watched as the man put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes.
Was he crying?
Tyson remembered when Percy would cheer him up when he was sad. The cyclops wanted to be like Percy.
Summoning up all of his courage, Tyson walked to the man. "Hey, mister."
...
At first Paul hadn't realized that someone was talking to him, it wasn't everyday a homeless kid just walked up to you. The boy was tall and rather...odd looking. He was wearing shabby clothing, it was so worn down that it was practically falling off of him. His hair was long and matted, as if it had never even met a hair brush. The nicest thing he had with him was a bag slung over his shoulder. Yet, looking at his dirt smudged face, Paul couldn't help but feel he should recognize the boy.
"Um...hello?" He greeted the boy back. Feeling no need for an invitation the boy sat down in the seat across from him. Paul wondered if the boy was going to ask for food or money, but he seemed to be in no hurry. "Can I help you?"
For a long moment the boy just sat across from him grinning ear to ear. "Yes."
The teacher waited a moment for the boy to continue. He didn't, instead he bounced happily in the chair across from Paul. Paul tried to be polite and not cover his nose when the wind shifted. It smelled like the boy hadn't had a decent bath in a while either. He cleared his throat before trying to get a better answer from the boy.
"How may I help you?" Paul asked. "What is your name?"
"Oh. My name is Tyson." The boy, Tyson, introduced himself. "And I want to see Percy, too."
Paul was startled to hear the boy say Percy's name. At first he wondered if the boy was just trying to con him or something, but the look on Tyson's face was nothing but sincere. Though Paul couldn't fathom how Percy knew the boy.
"I went to school with Percy in Meriweather. Percy is my friend." For the first time since the boy had addressed him, he frowned. "Well that was before he got exploded from the school."
"You mean expelled?" Paul asked.
"That too."
Meirweather? That was the school Percy went to before he met Sally. She told Paul about that school, about how it wasn't her proudest moment when she enrolled her son into that school. Apparently, Percy had been a model student for the most part, he had actually managed to get through the school year without any theatrics, but the school seemed to think he didn't fit in. The only friend he had was a homeless boy named Tyson.
Paul blinked and studied the boy in front of him. Sally had told him about Tyson. He was a rather different child and often bullied by the other kids. Both her and Percy did their best to help the kid out, but her monster of a husband made it rather difficult. She always felt bad that she was unable to help more. Sally really did have a kind heart.
"So can I?" Tyson interrupted his line of thought.
"Can you what?"
"See Percy." The boy told him. "Can I see him with you on Saturday? I haven't met many nice people since Percy left Meirweather. I want to see him again. I've been looking for a long time."
Did Percy really leave that big of an impact on this boy? It was rather surprising to see. Paul always told Percy that he was capable of great things. Percy, however, always said he was good for nothing, a burden, even. Dark thoughts fed by the boy's cruel stepfather. But seeing Tyson, a boy who had plenty of problems of his own, come forward after so long wanting to find Percy; it was enough to leave a warm sense of pride in the man.
Sally had done a great job with raising Percy. Her kind heart must have been hereditary.
Knowing how much both Percy and Sally cared for the strange homeless boy, Paul didn't have the heart to turn Tyson away. So he agreed to it. Tyson was very happy and excited about the very idea of seeing Percy. The teacher didn't have to imagine how excited the boy would be when the reunion actually happened.
When Tyson's stomach gave a loud grumble, Paul offered to buy him anything off the menu. It's what Sally would have done. Tyson was definitely hungry. He thanked the man profusely through mouthfuls of food. Some of the other patrons stared, surprised by the boy's lack of table manors. Maybe they were even disgusted. But knowing some of Tyson's story, the seen left a painful pit in his stomach.
How often did Tyson get a decent meal? Or new clothing? Or something as mundane as a proper shower? He had a crazy idea forming in his head, but he just couldn't leave the boy alone to brave the streets. Maybe he could convince Mr. Brunner to bring Tyson into his program on Saturday. Until then, the streets were definitely not an option.
"Tyson." Paul began hesitantly as the boy ate his second helping of food. Tyson looked up mid bite, his face was covered in his meal. "How would you like to stay with me until Saturday, that way we can arrive together to see Percy."
The toothy grin that came to Tyson's face erased any doubts he had about his offer, "I would like that very much! You're nice, like Percy, I like you."
...
Slate growled in frustration as he sat by the crackling fire. He didn't like waiting, even less so when he had Kronos's pet sitting right next to him. Luke was lounging about, sharpening his blade as if he didn't have a care in the world. The titan had ordered the two and a small team to retrieve the boy seeing as the Minotaur had failed them. Miserably.
It was late, and the boy's sent was getting stronger. Slate wanted to keep their mission going, but Luke had decided that they should rest for the night. Their camp was set up just outside a small town. A small town where the boy had been just hours ago. It was a shame that they couldn't get their Pegasus to fly any faster. The son of Hermes had an especially spirited Pegasus. Slate didn't know why the boy insisted on keeping the thing, sure its color was unique, but what was the use in a disobedient animal.
"I could ask the same of you?" Luke had a smile curl on his face, the scar marring his 'perfect' features crinkled at the action. Cursing, slate realized he had spoken aloud. "Both you and Killer had been given a simple task. Take unassuming demigods off the streets and bring them to us without causing a scene. The paper's are still going crazy over your stunt in the Empire State building."
The demigod was having too much fun harassing him for his failure. The two of them could never see eye to eye. There was just something about the demigod gone traitor that rubbed Slate the wrong way. Slate merely gave a hiss before he glared into the bright orange flames. If they had taken the Hellhounds like Slate had suggested, they'd already have the boy in their custody and secured at the camp.
"The longer we wait, the farther the boy gets away." Slate muttered. "Why did you want us to ride the blasted horses?"
Luke gave him a look of disbelief, "You really haven't figured it out?"
"What?"
"He's the son of Poseidon. Hellhounds are in Hade's domain." Luke began. "And I know first hand how he treats his brother's children. The Pegasus are the fastest way to travel, and Zeus will do nothing because the Pegasus fall in Poseidon's domain. It is basically like riding neutral ground through the sky. There's no chance we could lose him."
Slate scoffed. "And when Poseidon orders the beast to knock us from the sky?"
"He won't." The smile on the demigod's face looked absolutely devilish in the fire's glow. "Even if he wanted to interfere, if Percy were to fall off the Pegasus and into Zeus's domain, his brother won't hesitate to obliterate the kid."
It was the kind of meticulous planning that could only be enacted by a very excellent thief. Was it something that every child of Hermes was capable of? Or was it merely the product of a demigod who was scorn and betrayed by his father? It was brilliant, Slate would begrudgingly admit. It was very well thought out, a lot more strategic than throwing a hulking monster at the boy.
The monster looked at the son of Hermes. "You have it all figured out, don't you?"
"I'm an expert at taking things from the gods." He chuckled ruefully. Luke stretched out on the grass and grinned at the stars above. "We leave before daybreak."
Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for reading!
