BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The shrill shriek of an alarm clock. A fair-skinned hand shot out from under deep blue covers, smacking at the nearby nightstand wildly in an attempt to hit the snooze button. On the fourth attempt, it succeeded, then retreated back under the blanket, where a groan was heard. The source, a twelve-year old boy with a rat's nest of raven hair on his head, sat up with some difficulty, yawning loudly. Percy Jackson rubbed at his crusted eyes, heaving a heavy sigh, something he immediately regretted if the grimace upon his face was any sign.

Ugh. Morning breath.

Percy sat there for a few minutes, simply trying to gather the willpower to move and not just lay back down, waiting for death to claim him. Unfortunately, he had class in an hour. While the boy may hate school (and the feeling was most definitely mutual), his mother would have been so disappointed in him if she found out he was skipping. Not mad, disappointed. Something he would never be able to handle. Finally, the boy opened his sea-green eyes, and rolled off the mattress, nearly falling to the floor. He only barely managed to catch himself on the corner of his dresser, which he consequently knocked his head against.

"Ow…" Percy mumbled, too tired to really register the pain as anything other than a slight throbbing. He rubbed at it, glancing at his hand afterwards to check if there was any bleeding. The boy stumbled into the bathroom, slamming his shoulder against the doorframe due to his unsteady steps.

"Ow!" Percy cried, massaging the sore spot, much more awake, blood rushing faster through his body now that he was standing up. Grumbling under his breath, he walked into the bathroom, and quickly ran through his morning routine, brushing his teeth and showering leisurely, soaking in the steaming water which, for some reason, never burned him. His mother always yelped in pain when she used the sink after him, since he tended to just slap the hot water faucet wide open, but she never really questioned it. In fact, she usually seemed bemused, staring at her red hands, while steam curled off his fingers without him giving a sign of noticing.

One half-hour shower later, Percy walked out the bathroom, feeling rather relaxed. Then, he glanced in the mirror, and caught sight of the scars crisscrossing his bare abdomen, and scowled fiercely, good mood ruined. He toweled off quickly, then threw on some clothes. A pair of faded jeans looked clean enough, and the black t-shirt slung over his desk chair passed the smell test.

A knock caught the boy's attention, and he went to open his room door. On the other side was his best friend, Grover Underwood. A pale boy, with curly brown hair, a few spots of acne, the start of a wispy goatee, and standing with the help of crutches. He had some sort of leg deformity, but Percy didn't really care too much. The only thing that mattered was that, despite his ADHD, dyslexia, and overall shortcoming as a human being, Grover was still his friend. His only friend.

"Hey, Grover. What's up?" Percy asked, a bit confused. He normally met up with Grover in class. It was rare for his friend to come greet him at his room.

"Um, nothing, really…" Grover muttered, his nervous disposition making his words strained. "I just, uh, was wondering if you did the math homework? I kinda, forgot, heh." Percy raised an eyebrow; he never did his homework, and Grover knew that. Grover seemed to realise that, because he began chuckling half-heartedly, and Percy realised why his friend seemed more anxious than usual.

"Nervous about the field trip?" Percy asked, taking a step back into the room to grab his stuff. He left the door open, and Grover leaned against the frame, watching Percy pack his bag. Of course, since they were going on a field trip that was going to take all day, he didn't take everything. Just his math textbook (Pre-Algebra was from 7:00 to 7:55, while the field trip left at 8:10, meaning the students going on the trip wouldn't be spared their first period class) and his jacket. It was mid-March in New York City, there was no telling what the weather would be like.

Grover shrugged, not that Percy could see. "I… I guess," Grover mumbled, watching Percy flop down in his chair and pull on his black sneakers. "I dunno… Just, with your track record with field trips…" Percy paused in tying his shoelaces and raised his head, glaring at the boy, who flushed. "S-sorry, I'm not trying to, make fun of you, or anything!" Grover cried, raising his hands as best he could while still holding onto his crutches.

Percy sighed. "I know, G-Man. Let's just… Not talk about that, okay?" He slung his bag over his shoulder and the boys walked out the room, Percy locking the door behind him. They began walking to class, Grover's eyes scanning the hallway nervously, looking for any bullies that might be waiting in hiding for them. It wouldn't be the first time- the halls of Yancy Academy had way too many shadowed alcoves for someone to just pop out of. It wouldn't be that surprising, either, considering Yancy was a place for troubled students.

Was Percy a troubled kid? If by troubled, you mean a kid with some higher power out to just mess up his life, then yeah. This was his fifth school in five years, and he was only twelve. If the pattern held up, today would mark the day he got expelled from Yancy, making the total count of schools he'd been kicked out of six. Why? Because today, Mr. Brunner was taking his Latin class to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Bad things tended to happen to Percy on field trips. Like that time in fourth grade, when he dumped the whole class into a shark tank at the aquarium. Or in fifth grade, when he accidentally blew up the school bus at the Saratoga Battlefield with a cannon (don't ask). It went on and on.

This year, Percy was determined to not screw up, though. If he did, he would get 'the look' from his mom. 'The look' is when her eyes get really watery, like she's about to cry, and she draws her lips into a tight line like she's frustrated. Percy hated it when his mother cried, more than getting bullied at school, or wailed on by his stupid step-dad. For some odd reason, though, she never actually got angry. Ever. It was kinda scary, and Percy would swear up and down that the woman was a saint for putting up with him. He was by no means an easy child. That just made him love her more, though.

The boys finally entered the classroom, and Percy instinctively checked the clock at the back of the room. Two minutes late. He winced, and slowly panned his gaze to Ms. Dodds, who was standing in front of the chalkboard, arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. Ms. Dodds was a short, old, wrinkly lady with an impressive scowl chiseled into her face, and beady eyes that promised months of erasing used textbooks. She also wore a leather jacket, kinda like a biker, but ten times scarier. Basically, a hag on steroids.

"Boys, I will have you know that I do not tolerate lateness, especially this late into the school year. Detention, tomorrow." She rasped at us. Percy knew there was no point in arguing, so he simply gritted his teeth and nodded, heading to his seat. Grover squeaked out an apology and followed. An hour later, and another detention from Ms. Dodds for passing notes while she was lecturing, Percy heaved a sigh of relief. Pre-Algebra was finally over, and they could just get this stupid field trip over with. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be free of Ms. Dodds, since she had volunteered to chaperone the trip, along with Mr. Brunner, but at least he wouldn't have to do math. Small blessings.

Five minutes into the bus ride, Percy was ready to break his vow to try and not get expelled. Nancy Bobofit, the class bully, was chucking chunks of her peanut butter and ketchup sandwich (gross) at Grover, which kept getting stuck in his mini-afro. Nancy was a big girl for her age, both in weight and height. She probably had the B.O to match, too, but Percy wasn't gonna get close enough to find out. She had stringy scarlet hair, freckles, and buck teeth that a rabbit would envy. Percy started to get up, about to go clock Nancy in her ugly mug, when Grover yanked on his arm, forcing him back into the seat.

"Percy, don't," Grover said warningly, voice surprisingly steady. "It's not worth it. Besides… I like ketchup." Percy grudgingly sat down, not paying much attention to the platitudes, considering they came from the guy who Percy once saw eat a piece of his styrofoam tray. It freaked the raven-haired boy out so much he never mentioned it. So, instead of knocking Nancy Bobofit out like he wanted to, Percy clenched his jaw and hunkered down, just waiting it out.

At the Museum, the class ascended the marble stairs, where they waited at the top for their Latin teacher to catch up. The brown-haired man smiled apologetically, pulling ahead of them with his motorized wheelchair, and leading them into the building, thus starting the tour. They were handed packets to fill out about the exhibits as they wandered the museum, but Percy was a bit too preoccupied to pay attention, his mind on other things. Like the weather- it was really, really weird. Freak snow storms during January, heavy rain in February, and wildfires caused by lightning strikes earlier this month, which were then put out by even more rain. Before they'd entered the museum, Percy caught a glance of the sky; a carpet grey clouds covered Manhattan Island, the damp scent of imminent rain hanging heavy in the air. Given how erratic the weather had been since Christmas, Percy wouldn't be surprised if a hurricane rolled in.

A sharp pain in his foot jolted Percy back to reality. He hissed at Grover, whose crutch was planted on his toes. "What the heck, man!?" Rather than respond, Grover simply nodded his head at Mr. Brunner, who was staring at them, amusement dancing in his eyes. Percy cleared his throat, embarrassed.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Jackson. Now, can you tell the class what this picture represents?" Percy looked at the stone carving; it seemed to be a man, eating… Babies?

What the heck?

Percy wracked his brain for a few moments, before giving a tentative answer. "Ah, that's… The Titan, Kronos? And he's, uh… Eating his kids?" Mr. Brunner seemed a bit disappointed at the lack of elaboration, but took the answer anyways.

"Yes, Mr. Jackson. That is indeed the Titan Lord Kronos. The Titan of Time, and father of the Olympians, he…" Percy stopped paying attention as the Latin Teacher droned on, staring at the ancient stone tablets on the walls surrounding them. They all looked incredibly archaic (which they were, since they were carved centuries ago), and Percy had no clue what any of them represented. While he was contemplating how lucky he was that Mr. Brunner had picked the only exhibit he could actually make sense of, an explosion rocked the building. Many of the students screamed, while Percy jumped nearly a foot in the air. Him and Grover stared at each other in shock, before Mr. Brunner's voice cut through the commotion of thirty pre-teens.

"Children, follow me!" he roared. "There is a situation at the front entrance of the museum, so we will exit through the back! Ms. Dodds will bring up the rear, to ensure nobody gets separated! Come along, now!" He spun his wheelchair around, and began zooming through the halls, Percy and his classmates jogging after him. Grover hobbled as fast as he could, somehow managing to keep up. If Percy had looked closer, he might've noticed that Grover was actually running completely on his legs, and simply swinging his crutches to mimic the movements- they never actually touched the ground. Then again, the museum was shaking intermittently from the force of some very loud blasts, so now wasn't the time.

After a few turns, the class found themselves running past a window, and Percy's ADHD decided to act up; he couldn't stop himself from staring out the window, and what he saw made him freeze in shock. His classmates, terrified as they were, streamed past him, not even glancing to the side. Even Grover was too busy running to worry about his best friend. If any of them had followed Percy's lead, though, they would've ended up paralyzed just like the raven-haired youth.

Outside the window, Percy watched as a rock… Monster, duked it out with a lightning tornado. The beast was absolutely massive, taller even than the museum he was in, with beefy arms thicker than tree trunks, a head as big as a car, and glowing yellow eyes that sent shivers down his spine. A tail, that narrowed until it was thin as a whip at the tip, lashed out so quickly Percy could barely even see it. Apparently, the man clad in electricity could, though, since he dropped in altitude, allowing the stone appendage to pass over him harmlessly.

The man had a very low buzzcut, and was wearing a yellow leather jacket with a black trim, gray cargo pants, and black fingerless gloves. A sling bag was wrapped around his torso. With a roar of effort, that even Percy heard, the man retaliated with a lightning bolt that actually managed to chip the beastly Leviathan. Unfortunately, that was all it did, and the monster swatted him aside while he recovered from the energy drain. Percy stared dumbly as the man's form rocketed across the street- right towards him!

It was pure luck that Percy's instincts kicked in at that moment, forcing him to throw himself to the side as the man crashed through the window he'd been watching the battle from. Percy, lying on the ground where he landed, stared in shock at the prone form of the short-haired man, who groaned in pain. Eventually, he managed to clamber to his feet, and his brown eyes, which occasionally flickers blue, landed on Percy. His impressive scowl grew even deeper, and he bolted at Percy. Not ran, no- he turned into a literal bolt of lightning, and flew at Percy. Before the boy could even shriek, the man was behind him, hauling him up by the back of his shirt, then looping an arm around his neck in a chokehold. He turned to the window, where the Leviathan was standing, watching. The man held a lightning-clad hand up next to Percy's temple, and applied a bit of pressure to his windpipe.

"You stay right where you are, ya red-headed bitch! Come any closer and I'll fry the kid's brain!" the man shouted, and Percy's panic went into overdrive. While he had been frozen in fear before, he was now actively trying to do anything he could to escape. Unfortunately, the most his oxygen-starved brain could come up with was to kick wildly and scrabble at the leather sleeve around his throat.

The man squeezed even tighter. "Stop movin', kid. I don't wanna have to hurt ya." Percy let out a barely-audible sob, and ceased his frantic struggling. However, he did continue trying to pry the man's arm off him, regardless of how futile his efforts were.

Between the sickly yellow eyes of the Leviathan, a space opened up in the concrete, and a woman stepped out. She had a wrinkled face, but the vibrant red of her hair made it more likely that it was simply due to stress. She wore an all-black ensemble, complete with a long duster and full gloves. She hovered down to the floor in front of them, staring amusedly at the man.

"Come now, Mr. Macgrath, you can't honestly believe I won't just go through the child to get to you. What exactly are you playing at?" she asked, hands spread wide.

Macgrath shifted his grip slightly, licking his lips nervously. "Ain't playin' at nothin', Augustine."

Augustine raised an imperious eyebrow. "Really? So, you aren't draining that child's bioelectricity in order to top up your energy reserves?" Macgrath's chokehold tightened even further, threatening to crush Percy's trachea. Augustine noticed the movement and smirked, before her face became somber. "You must be exhausted, Cole," she said, voice full of false sympathy. "Ever since you activated the Ray Field Inhibitor, your abilities have been weakened. And then, to constantly be on the run for seven years… Why, I'd have given up a long time ago, if I were you."

"Well, ya ain't me, so cut the shit," Macgrath growled.

"No, I'm not you… I'm just one of the people whose life was destroyed by your actions. Although, I suppose I wouldn't have become head of the D.U.P if it weren't for you, so perhaps I should be thanking you instead?"

"I keep tellin' ya, it was the Beast that destroyed Empire City."

"Yes, because you, who had the power and the tools to stop it, ran away like a coward when the Ray Field Inhibitor didn't finish the job. You ran to save your family, and yet… Where are they now?"

With a bestial roar of rage, Macgrath tossed Percy aside and charged Augustine, who simply smiled grimly. With a wave of her hands, the Leviathan rushed forward, punching Macgrath right in the torso with a massive hand, sending him flying backwards- right into Percy. The impact rattled the boy's brain viciously, and when the world stopped spinning, he was laying on his back, the unconscious form of Macgrath slumped on top of him. It took a bit of struggling, but Percy managed to wiggle his way free, and he stood on shaky legs.

"H-hey…" Percy called quietly, trying to wake the man, for reasons even he didn't quite understand. Sure, Macgrath might've taken him hostage, but that didn't mean he wanted to see the guy dead. Percy crouched, nearly falling over when his sight blackened at the edges. He stuck his hands out to catch himself, one of which made contact with something other than the granite floor of the museum. Percy looked down, finding that his fingers were now touching Macgrath's, a stream of lightning was now flowing from the unconscious man's arm, and up his own.

"Oh… Shi-"

His vision tunneled, and unconsciousness claimed him.


Doing a rewrite. I don't feel much motivation to write these days. Dunno how long it's gonna be until I just shut down my account and abandon all my stories. Hopefully, something comes along that gives me the kick in the pants that I need but, until then, don't get your hopes up.