Uncuttable Thread

Disclaimer - (Cause fanfiction is tricky ground and I hope not to offend the creator of the original story and get sued)

I do not own "Percy Jackson", it belongs to its original creator Rick Riordan. This is only a fanfiction that I was inspired to write by the original work. Please support the official release. Most of the media - such as the art and illustrations, gifs, video's, etc. used in this fanfiction - are from the web. Thus, most of them aren't mine (because I really, really can't draw) unless mentioned. To fit the story, images are also edited by various apps and websites. So they aren't mine, just edited.

Also if you own a picture or Video that I found online, and you either want your name added, or me to take it down. Please contact me and we can talk it out. P.s. I also ask that you do not copy my work and publish it onto any other website.

If you're gonna use my idea, please ask me (If you ask nicely, I for sure, will agree). If I don't contact you within a week, then just assume I'm giving you the all clear and go for it. Just remember to credit me.

I will be writing out scenes even if my Oc isn't in them. As long as she's mentioned, or influencing the characters in some way. Or maybe be because it influences the story. This may seem a bit annoying. But that's just how I write. I like to embed my characters into the story line. Because of this, most of the dialogue/scenes will come from the original work.

Cast

Siren Jackson ~ Selena Gomez & Lucy Hale

Percy Jackson ~ Logan Lerman

Grover ~ Jay McGuiness

Charon ~ Pierce Brosnan

Sally Jackson ~ Megan Fox

Warnings: Spoilers for The Lighting Thief Chapter 2

Today's Special

You meet your fate.

On the road you take to avoid it.

~ Unknown.

{Siren P.O.V.}

Me and my brother have experienced some pretty unexplainable things in our lives. But this takes the cake by a landslide. Because ever since our trip, it's like Mrs. Dodds never existed. Instead, we had this perky, air-head blond, who I honestly found much creeper than Mrs. Dodds.

"I don't like her." Is the first thing I tell Percy when I storm into his room.

Percy doesn't get up from his bed, but does raise an eyebrow, "Your sentence can literally apply to every female teacher here. Specify."

"Mrs. Kerr. She gives me the creeps." I answer, throwing the test I had just gotten back, onto his lap and let it do the rest of the talking.

Percy makes an 'O' with his mouth in surprise as he sees the bright red '90%' on the top right hand corner. "Any chance that's the percent you got wrong?" He jokes.

I glare at him but still plainly answer, "Nope. I checked."

"Then there is definitely something seriously wrong with that woman." He laughs.

I sigh and sit down on the corner of his bed, "Something is seriously wrong Percy. If a teacher ever gives me something higher than a 75 in any sort of math class. You know something is wrong with her. And yet everyone had been acting like that was completely normal, and Mrs. Dodds never used to call me up to the front of the class to solve problems she knew I couldn't do! Everybody keeps acting like she never existed! If it weren't for you. I'd be sure that I completely lost it." I said in frustration, well waving my arms in the air like a mad women.

Percy nods, "How about we start bringing her up occasionally and see how people react. That may help."

I nod. "Just one last thing. How on earth did you come up with such a complex plan." I joke, only to be met with a pillow to the face.

The first few people we tried it on.

Nothing.

But then, there was Grover.

Sweet, innocent, Grover.

Sweet, innocent, Grover, who really couldn't lie.

Whenever we'd mentioned Mrs. Dodds to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist. But we knew he was lying

Something was definitely going on.

Something had happened at the museum.

I know it.

Or me and my brother wouldn't be waking up in cold sweat every night from nightmares about large leathery wings, talons, and blades.

Even my grades couldn't handle this, combined with the weird weather patterns hitting us. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in Percy's dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

But Percy was the one who was really feeling the brunt of all this. He had even started acting like a moody teenage girl. And unlike me, who only did it one a month. He was 24/7. His grades slipped from Ds to Fs. I also had to start pulling him out of more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. He was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

I tried my best to help him out whenever I could. But I knew he wouldn't last much longer.

And I was right.

Because when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked him for the millionth time why he was too lazy to study for spelling tests, he snapped. Percy called him an old sot. He had most likely heard it from me, when I called Gabe that.

The headmaster sent our mom a letter the following week, making it official: Percy would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Meaning, we would have to switch school once again.

It was fine. Me and Percy tried to convince ourselves.

We were getting homesick.

But despite wanting to see our mom again, I couldn't help but feel sad. I know I would miss Grover. And the fact I would soon have to deal with Gabe again, wouldn't help.

I'd miss Latin class, too-Mr. Brunner's crazy tourna-ment days and his faith that Percy and I could do well despite our dyslexia and ADHD.

As exam week got closer, I forced Percy to sit down and study with me. Though, Latin was the only test he really stud-ied for. He told me that hadn't been able forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told him about this subject being life-and-death for us. He wasn't sure why, but he'd started to believe him.

I understood where he was coming from. Because I was feeling the exact same thing. Though surprisingly, Latin was a lot easier for us to study for than anything else. I picked it up a lot faster than english. Which I found really odd, considering it was our first language.

I winced as I watched Percy throw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across his dorm room. I understood why to. It's frustrating. Trying to learn as the words swim across the page, as if they are making fun of you.

As Percy began pacing around the room, I closed my own copy and turned my entire body to face him. "What's wrong." As he opened his mouth, I added, "Aside from the dyslexia."

Percy sighed and then said, "Don't you remember Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes. 'I will accept only the best from you, Jacksons'."

I nodded, "How about we go ask him for some help. I know we really don't do it much. But he is a great teacher."

Percy nodded and we walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.

We were three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover's said "... worried about twins, sir." I froze and looked at Percy, and he looked back and nodded.

He had heard it too.

We were the only pair of twins Grover was friends with, so he had to be talking about us.

So we inched closer slowly.

Oh don't give me that look, that I'm sure you're giving me.

I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult

"... alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing them," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more."

"But he may not have time. He has his sister. The summer solstice dead-line- "

"Will have to be resolved without them, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

"Sir, they saw her... ."

"Their imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

"Sir, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy and Ren alive until next fall-"

The mythology book dropped out of Percy's hand and hit the floor with a thud.

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart was hammering, so I did the only thing I could do. I picked up the book, grabbed Percy's hand, and backed down the hall.

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer's bow.

Percy opened the nearest door and we slipped inside

A few seconds later I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muf-fled wood blocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside my door. A large, dark shape paused in front of the glass, then moved on.

A bead of sweat trickled down my neck and I raised a hand to my mouth and try to muffle any sounds my mouth may make.

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice." Causing my shoulders to sag with relief.

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn ..."

"Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

We waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally, Percy slipped out into the hallway and I followed. We made my way back up to the dorm in silence.

Grover was lying on his bed, studying his Latin exam notes like he'd been there all night.

"Hey," he said, bleary-eyed. "You guys going to be ready for this test?"

Neither of us answers.

"You look awful." He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Just... tired." Percy gets out and I force myself to give him a small smile.

We turned so he couldn't read my expression, and started getting ready for bed.

"You're staying in here tonight, Ren?" Grove asked.

"Yep." I answered.

I didn't understand what I'd heard downstairs. I wanted to believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

But one thing was clear: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about us behind our back. They thought we were in some kind of danger. And they wouldn't tell us.

The next afternoon, as I was leaving the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called Percy back inside.

I waited outside, each second feeling like a minute, afraid that Mr. Brunner had found out it was eavesdropping the other night.

Percy ran out of the room, and I rushed after him. "What wrong?" I asked, catching up to him and grabbing his arm.

"Nothing."

"Percy!"

"He said he believed in us. And now that I got kicked out, he suddenly does a 180."

I sigh. "Oh Percy. It'll be fine. So what if he doesn't believe in us. That's his loss. We'll be just fine without him. This isn't the first time we've switched schools. We'll be fine as long as we have each other." I say, hugging him.

I neatly packed my clothes into my suitcase as my roommate listened to music.

The only person I dreaded saying good-bye to was Grover, but as it turned out, I didn't have to. He'd booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as we had, so there we were, together again, heading into the city.

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing ner-vously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased. But there was nobody to tease him on the Greyhound. Unless he was scared of the two kids playing rock-paper-scissors?

Finally Percy couldn't stand it anymore and blurted out, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha-what do you mean?"

I sighed and confessed, "We overheard you talking to Mr. Burner the night before the exams."

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh ... not much. What's the summer solstice dead-line?" Percy asked.

Grover winced. "Look, Percy, Ren... I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers ..."

That last line pissed me off, "Grover-"

But he cuts me off, "And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were over-stressed or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and..."

"Grover, you're a really, really bad liar." Percy told him bluntly, causing his ears to turn pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

The card was in fancy script, which was murder on my dyslexic eyes, but I finally made out something like:

Grover Underwood Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

"What's Half-"

Percy begins to ask, but is cut off by Grover, "Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um ... sum-mer address."

My heart sank. Grover had a summer home. I'd never considered that his family might be as rich as the others at Yancy. Which honestly made me feel like a really bad friend. We hadn't really asked Grover much about his homelife.

"Okay," And judging by how Percy had said glumly. "So, like, if we want to come visit your mansion."

He nodded. "Or ... or if you need me."

I smiled, but Percy asked confused, "Why would I need you?" it came out pretty harsh.

Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look, Percy, the truth is, I-I kind of have to protect you."

I stared at him, confused.

All year long, we'd gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I'd lost sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without us. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended us!

"Grover," Percy said, "what exactly are you protecting me from?"

But before he could answer there was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine com-partment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover, Percy, and I filed outside with everybody else.

We were on a stretch of country road-no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway was nothing but maple trees and litter from pass-ing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of blood red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no cus-tomers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.

I mean these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at us.

I looked over at Grover to say something about this and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" Percy called. "Hey, man-"

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?" Percy joked.

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors-gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.

"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."

"What?" Percy protested. "It's a thousand degrees in there."

I nodded in agreement. Honestly, what was Grover thinking?

"Come on!'" He pried open the door and climbed inside, but Percy and I stayed back.

Across the road, the old ladies were still watching me. Then middle one looked me right in the eyes and cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends balled up the electric-blue socks, leaving me wondering who they could possibly be for-Sasquatch or Godzilla.

"Hey Percy." I pulled his sleeve. Do you see that?" I pointed at the only thread reaming. "It's different."

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused. "It's blue."

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!"

Once we got going, I started feeling feverish, as if I'd caught the flu. Looking at Percy, I could tell that I wasn't the only one.

Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering.

"Grover?" Percy called.

"Yeah?"

"What are you not telling us?"

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like ... Mrs. Dodds, are they?" Percy asked.

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. He said, "Just tell me what you saw."

"The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn." My brother answered.

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something almost-older.

He said, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yeah. So?" Percy shrugged.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What last time?" I ask.

"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth."

"Grover," I said, because he was really starting to scare me. "What are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."

This seemed like a strange request to me, but I prom-ised he could.

"Is this like a superstition or something?" I asked.

No answer.

"Grover-that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?"

He looked at me mournfully, like he was already pick-ing the kind of flowers I'd like best on my coffin.

I sighed, realising that we weren't going to get any more out of him and looked out the window. But I couldn't help but remember the bright golden coloured thread that I had seen. It looked like the old lady had tried to cut it, but had failed to.