Hey Guys, sorry for the delay but I've had an incredibly busy week. It's probably going to continue because I'm back at school next week, but I promise I'll try to update at least once a month. Originally I wanted this to be longer, taking it right up till Percy arriving at CHB, but you deserve some writing, even if it isn't all I'd envisioned for the next update. So without further ado,

Ch3

By the time Percy finally stumbled back into his shared dorm with Grover, he'd managed to arrange his thoughts into some semblance of order.

They think I'm in danger they think I'm in danger they think I'm-

When am I not?

Grover was half reclined on his bed, Latin notes scattered around him. His bleary eyes found Percy's, and if Percy didn't know better he would have sworn Grover had been there all night.

"Hey Perce, are you ready for the test?" Grover glanced at the mythology book clutched in Percy's grip, a question written on his face. It scared him how good Grover was at acting. Had he been pretending all year? How much of their friendship had been real? Part of Percy wanted to believe that he'd imagined Mrs. Dodds, the sword, everything. That the conversation between Chiron and Grover had all been some crazy dream.

That wasn't right. Percy's head felt fuzzy and he tried to push against the haze clouding his mind. He knew about the supernatural. He was used to dealing with it regularly. Hell, he'd even killed monsters and other non-human creatures. Why did he want this particular instance to be imagined? The fog seemed to tighten its grip on his mind. He mumbled a half excuse to Grover and got into bed, trying to ignore the concerned gaze that had settled onto his back. A few minutes later Grover switched off the light and his snoring filled the room. Percy tossed and turned, trying to think past the smog confusing his thoughts.

His fingers drummed a random rhythm on the table as he stared at the journal in front of him. John's no-nonsense script filled the pages and news articles and roughly sketched images emphasised or demonstrated various points in his writing.

"Now Percy, there are some monsters out there that can influence your mind. Today, we're going to talk about Djinn specifically." Sam's voice did little to mask the grunting that filtered into the dingy motel room from outside. Uncle John and Dean were sparring, and Percy knew that after this lecture he would be put through his paces as well.

Snapping fingers in his face brought him back to Sam's lecture. A sheepish grin flitted across his face as he took in Sam's amused but stern expression. He mumbled an apology and tried to pay more attention.

"Their skin contains a hallucinogenic poison, and when you come into contact with it you're put into a dreamlike state centered around your biggest desire..."

Abruptly Percy was able to rip through the fog clouding his thoughts. He had to get out of here. Clearly something was up, and Grover wasn't everything he seemed. Silently, Percy rolled out of bed, glancing at Grover to make sure he wasn't stirring. The muffled snoring was a clear indication that Grover wasn't planning on waking anytime soon. Percy pulled out the go-bag he always had packed -thanks a lot Uncle John, see you never- and considered his options. He could go home, but… his mum would be so disappointed. She'd try to send him back here, and he didn't have a good excuse as to why it wasn't safe. Uncle John had told him she didn't know about monsters, so it wasn't like he could just show up and say; hey, my math teacher grew bat wings and tried to kill me. Can I chill at home for a bit?

She'd either think he was insane or lying to her. Percy wasn't sure which was worse. Plus, Smelly Gabe was less than pleased to see him in general, let alone home early from school. He winced at the thought of the beating that would likely follow. So no, going home wasn't an option. He couldn't meet up with the Winchesters because they seemed to be incapable of picking up the fucking phone, so that was out. Percy sighed quietly, racking his brain for someone he could go to for help. Finally, a memory resurfaced, Sam's voice echoing in his ears.

There's this old hunter who lives in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Bobby's a grumpy sonofabitch but he fights the good fight and he's reliable. He looks after us occasionally when Dad's planning on going off grid for more than a few weeks. If, for whatever reason, you can't go to us for help, go to him.

Last Percy had heard, Bobby had threatened to 'fill John with buckshot if he ever showed his face at Singer's again.' That was assuming anything Sam and Dean said could be believed. That was just fine with Percy, he had some words reserved for John too. If he ever saw him again, that was.

Glancing at Grover once more, Percy shouldered his go-bag. Taking a deep breath he slipped out the dorm window, down the tree outside, and out into the night. It was a long way from Upstate New York to Sioux Falls and he needed to get a move on. His absence wouldn't remain unnoticed for long.

It took approximately 22 hours to get from New York City to Sioux Falls, or 1,363 miles, give or take a few. Percy spent most of the trip in the passenger seat of various trucks and trailers that were travelling along the highway, resting between rides at truck stops before hitching his next ride.

Sitting in one such truck stop with his legs stretched out under a table, Percy surveyed his surroundings. He was almost to Sioux Falls and he couldn't get there soon enough. Sitting still for hours on end wasn't exactly fun when one had ADHD. Certainly not when his likeability determined how far the truckers were willing to tale him. Some of the younger truckers were chatting and laughing, while the older, more wearied ones were catching a few z's between legs of their journeys. The waitress looked bored out of her mind, and was loudly popping gum while she filled out a newspaper crossword. Across the highway, three withered old ladies sat in a line at a stall, massive balls of wool on either side of them. The one in the middle was knitting a massive sock, large enough that Percy couldn't help but wonder who it was for. It definitely wouldn't fit a regular person. Maybe Godzilla or Bigfoot had put in a custom order? Chuckling quietly and smirking to himself, Percy stretched out in his chair, popping his back and making his shoulders ache in that just right way. Looking back across the road, he noticed that the old lady with the sock was looking directly at him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and the part of his brain that had been trained into existence by the Winchesters was screaming at him. Telling him that this was not right. That he should go now. The rest of the world faded away, falling into the background. Frozen, all Percy could do was watch as one of the old ladies pulled out a large pair of golden scissors. The snipping sound of the scissors cutting the yarn could be heard across the busy road. Percy's skin erupted into goosebumps and chills suddenly wracked his body as he suddenly stiffened. While the old ladies started rolling up the left over wool, Percy slipped out of the truck stop and saw about hitching another ride.

As he got into the front of another random truck, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was going to die. Some irrational part of his brain was still trying to convince him that his days were numbered when he passed the state line into South Dakota.

He had to pay for a taxi once he got to a South Dakota truck stop, no trucker was willing to break their route for him. Fair enough, but the taxi ride to Sioux Falls cut into his meager savings all the same. It wasn't until he reached Sioux Falls and stood watching the taxi drive away that he realised he had no clue where Bobby Singer lived. All he had was his name, Bobby Singer, and several unflattering descriptions of his character, mean, drunk, grumpy sonofabitch. Hopefully it would be enough to convince someone in town to help.

The first person he asked gave him a strange look and brushed past him without answering. The second person glared at him at told him to fuck off. The third said he should 'avoid Singer if he knew what was good for him.' It wasn't until Percy asked a young woman in a sheriff's uniform that he got a helpful answer.

"Bobby Singer?" She raised an amused eyebrow. "He owns Singer Salvage Yard just out of town. What do you want with that prickly old drunk?"

Percy gave her a sheepish grin, his mind racing to find a suitable answer. "My uncle dropped me off in town and said he'd arranged for Bobby to look after me - he was running late for whatever appointment he's off to now." Percy made sure to roll his eyes clearly, playing up the annoyed and embarrassed twelve year old look as much as he could. "The only problem is, he didn't tell me where Bobby lives, and I've never actually met him before. Bobby's expecting me but I'm running late for obvious reasons. Could you maybe point me in the right direction?"

The sheriff looked unconvinced but offered to drop him there. Apparently 'just out of town' was town speak for 'it's several miles and you should probably drive in this heat.'

By the time they had reached the salvage yard, Percy only had the beginnings of an explanation planned. Not only had he and Bobby never met, but Percy hadn't been able to warn him of his imminent arrival - he didn't know Bobby's phone number, and hunters weren't the type of person to register in the phone book. He'd checked. On top of that, he would have to explain to Sheriff Mills just why Singer had no clue who he was, despite Percy telling her that he was an expected guest. The latter of those three problems was solved without Percy even having to lift a finger. Sheriff Mills dropped him off outside the salvage yard with a strained smile and a warning to stay safe before hightailing it back to town. Something about a bar fight in the middle of the day?

The yard was eerily quiet. The stacked wreckage of various cars and trucks cast long shadows that seemed to reach for him in the midday sun. The temperature seemed to drop dramatically, and Percy couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. His breath misted in front of him, and for half a second he felt as insignificant as an ant must feel near a human. A faint growling filled his ears, and the shivers from the truck stop plagued him once more. The spell was abruptly broken by the clinking sound of a chain moving at a rapid pace. Percy was instantly on edge, his hand reaching for the knife he had hidden at his side. A barking Rottweiler rounded the corner at speed, dragging a chain behind him. Percy took a subconscious step back and was bracing for impact when the familiar sound of a shotgun being cocked pulled him up short.

"Rumsfeld! Heel!" Without even seeing the man, Percy could tell that the voice belonged to Bobby Singer. The dog, Rumsfeld, stopped short. He stared at Percy for a beat before turning and trotting back around the corner. Taking a shaky breath, Percy raised his hands and rounded the corner slowly.

A bearded man stood on the front porch of a worn house, frown on face and shotgun in hand.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property!" The gruff voice echoed across the yard and Percy knew that he'd have to do some fast talking. Hunters were suspicious folk, after all.

"My name is Percy Jackson, I'm Sam and Dean's cousin. They said…" Percy hesitated for all of one second before continuing. "They said you were good people, whatever that means, and if I needed help and they were unavailable I could come to you."

At the word 'unavailable,' Bobby's eyes narrowed. He eyed Percy for a moment before lowering the gun and walking inside, waving Percy in as he did. Percy felt like he was sitting a test without knowing the subject, something he could admit to doing on occasion. He could never get past the helpless feeling associated with it, and constantly told himself he would never do it again. He was lying, but still. Percy crossed the threshold of the door to find Bobby standing on the other side of the room, shotgun still in hand but pointed at the floor. Bobby's hard eyes followed his progress as he walked across the rug just inside the door, but mellowed slightly when Percy smoothly stepped off the other end. Bobby vanished through a doorway briefly before emerging with a glass of something clear, which he plonked on the table before retreating to his post at the far end of the room. He nodded at it once, and Percy got the idea. Swallowing harshly, Percy approached the table and picked up the glass, thankful his hand wasn't trembling. He downed the liquid in one swallow, placing the glass back on the table. Water, thank God. Percy was so caught up in his thoughts that he startled a little when Bobby sat at the table across from him, the hard look gone entirely from his gaze. Bobby sheepishly rubbed his face and gave Percy a strange sort of half smile.

"It's good to finally meet the kid those boys never shut up about."

The relief that crashed over Percy nearly sent him to his knees.

Feel free to review! I believe that something can always be improved, and while I might not change much in this, any feedback will certainly be applied to future chapters! Till next time!