A/N: I LIIIIVVVVVEEEEEEEEEE! Hallelujah, college finals are over with and I finished my first year! Wootwootwootwootwoot! Anyways, Chapter 3 of BOOT (the acronym for this story is "boot". That's honestly the best thing I've seen lol .)
My Dad pays me a visit (about time)
Have you ever remembered a dream, or known when you were dreaming? Do you remember how it felt to realize, "Hang on, this is fake. I can do anything I want!" Well I haven't. Mostly all I remember in my dreams are the typical flowers in the background of a Spongebob Squarepants episode.
This though, I immediately knew it was a dream. I don't know how or why, only that it wasn't real. I'm standing above a void of black. Though now that I look up I'm wondering if I'm already in the void? Everything's pitch black, I can't see anything.
"-4,015,914 minutes since global destruction. It still sucks. I'm alone, which is totally unfair. I could've had Zeus to keep me company, or Poseidon, or Hades, grumpy as he normally is."
Who was that? I turned on the spot, trying to locate the source of the sound. After a minute I spotted a figure, sitting on an invisible chair and running hands through his brown, shoulder-length hair. They're wearing a dark green vest with deep black pants and sleeves, something men wore at casinos. His left arm has five different watches, while his right arm only had three. Two pocket watches hung from his breast pockets, as if he didn't have enough things to keep track of time.
"I miss Sarah. I've said it a bajillion times already, but I really miss her. I hate how she had to give her life to make sure I sent our son back. But then again, she's always been the boss, hasn't she?" he fondly chuckled, though there's a sadness in his smile and his hands stopped combing through his hair.
"Why did she have to do it?" he sighed. "It was just an idea I had, I don't even know if it would work. And now Andrew's likely lost, or got vaporized by time's currents-"
"Excuse me?"
His head snapped up in the blink of an eye, darting round to try and find me. I walked closer, unsure how to approach this, or him, for that matter.
"Who's there?" he called. "Zeus? Poseidon? Apollo? I'm willing to settle for Ares?"
"N-no, it's just me. My name is Andrew, and I was wondering if-"
His already frantic eyes widened, roughly the size of dinner plates. Next thing I knew he shot to his feet, pulling a phone out and messing with it.
"Drat! Power's at 1%," he cursed under his breath. "Where's a charger when you're in purgatory? Now I really need Zeus here-"
"Hi, um, my question? Are you talking about me?"
"Wha-? Oh! Sorry, yes, got distracted; often happens when you've had too much time alone. What do you need, Andrew… last name please?"
"I'm not comfortable with giving strangers my last name, sir."
"Oh, of course, of course! That's elementary knowledge my boy; I'm just getting the feeling that you were raised in an orphanage, without knowing who your parents were."
Now it's my turn for my eyes to bug out.
"You've displayed strange powers over your life that others dismiss as pranks or symptoms of a certain condition, met strangers that aren't exactly human per se, and if I'm correct, and I pray to every God of every religion that I'm right… all you have from your parents is a gold pocket watch. The numbers are Roman numerals, and the hands look like tiny literal hands pointing at the time, and if I'm not mistaken, the underside of the cover have a Greek inscription you may be able to read now."
I'm left speechless, my hand reaching into my pocket to retrieve the very item he described. And for the first time in my life I peered at the underside of the lid, seeing tiny Greek letters that, somehow, I'm able to translate:
" 'To my little demititan, Andrew Duncan, whose mother- ' "
" '-was able to capture my heart as Rhea did before; know that I am with you at all times.' " He's barely containing his excitement, he looks like a child ready to tear his presents open on Christmas. "Am I right?"
I popped the lid closed as I turn to look at the man, lost for words. "Dad?"
"YES!" he whooped as he leapt around in unadulterated joy. "Yes, it WORKED! HAHAHAHAHA! I'm a genius, a sheer, total, genius! Eat your heart out, David Tennant and Matt Smith and all you wonderful actors and screenwriters! In your face, Gaea! I BEAT THE FATES THEMSELVES!"
I watched as he continued exclaiming in excitement, slightly amused and worried by his childlike antics. After he finishes he turned in my direction, although it seemed like he still couldn't find me.
"You have no idea how much this means to me! I had my doubts about sending you back, but Sarah always told me that I need to doubt my doubts before I doubt my capabilities. Oh Sarah, you glorious, sexy mortal!"
"Why'd you do it?"
He paused mid-cheer to look towards me, his face somewhere between joy and confusion. "Why'd I do what?"
"Send me away. Was I a bad kid, did I do something wrong or-"
"Oh no, no no!" he waved his hands in a panic, probably to try stopping my worries, "you weren't unwanted; we were just faced with the end of the world."
I tilted my head in confusion. He went on to explain that in his timeline, the Titans and Greek Gods got along just fine, and their children were powerful; as a result, Camp Half-Blood was a refuge for demigods and "demititans". However, Python wasn't happy with being sent to the Underworld, so he convinced a demigod that Titans were superior to the Gods, prompting a war to break out between both groups of children. Before it could get out of hand, Apollo caught on with his enemy's tricks, finding him and sending him back to Tartarus.
"It wasn't easy, mind you. The serpent had possessed a demigod and rallied a whole army of monsters together; it took weeks to kill them all."
"But what does that have to do with me?" I asked.
"Hush, m'boy," he put a finger to my lips, winking cheekily. "Spoilers. If your universe is anything like mine you'll find out soon enough."
"..." I was trying to not be uncomfortable with how close he was, parent or not. "Was it a good thing, or a bad thing?"
That seemed to distract him. I noted the involuntary shudder in his shoulders and the trace of fear in his eyes as he pulled away. "It was a massacre."
"Massacre? Why was I saved?"
"You were just a baby. In a time where kids like you were being killed each day I had to act. So on the brink of our destruction I had two choices: keep you with us as we tried desperately to stall our inevitable destruction, or send you away with the hope of avoiding this altogether. And let me tell you," he looked directly at me, giving a pained, miserable smile, "it was never an easy decision."
"Why though? What was the massacre?"
He started to reply but a giant chime cut him off, like the sound of a gong. He grunted in dismay as he flipped a watch open. "Out of time for tonight. Guess the hours really do fly by when you're asleep."
He walked up to me while talking, looking up at my eyes and placing a hand on my shoulder. He gave me one more grin, ruffling my hair - I could actually feel his hand, thin but strong fingers brushing through my unruly hair.
"I'll see you as soon as I can. Hope I don't miss your claiming, bound to be spectacular. The first son of a Titan. Oh, before I forget," he backed away, fading into the mists converging on us, "give my regards to Perseus Jackson."
I tried to remember the feeling of his hand on my shoulder, how he smiled at me in the way parents would when they were proud of their children, but the images were already bowed and disappeared, and the world around me turned white.
I bolted upright with a gasp, startling the small group of people working around me. I started to get to my feet but others rushed to me, trying to prevent me from getting up and possibly hurting myself. I tried pushing their hands away in vain attempts to get feeling in my legs.
"I'm fine, I just need to stand- no, seriously, I don't feel hurt-"
"Let him be."
The calm voice interrupted my arguments but simultaneously stopped the others' attempts at holding me down. They stepped away, letting me sit up and prop myself against the pillows.
The cabin I'm in looked nice and tidy, sunlight streaming through the windows as they welcomed the new day. The people who weren't laying in cots wore orange shirts with purple writing that I couldn't read from where I was. All looked at least a year older than me, possibly more. I turned to the sound of a wheelchair rolling towards me.
A man sat next to my bed, looking like he taught at middle school. His beard was neatly trimmed, he wore a suit despite his condition, eyebrows bushier than his beard. His legs were covered by a light blue blanket. I looked him over, noting how the cloth seemed to shimmer or hide what looked like… horse legs?
"What's with the wheelchair?"
Several teenagers gasped at my lack of subtlety, but the man merely smiled, waving off their horrified expressions. "Well, as you can see my legs don't work properly, so I need a wheelchair to-"
"How long have you been paralyzed?"
He raised an eyebrow. "All of my life."
"Uh huh. You, sir," I pointed a finger at him boldly, something that only happens when I've gone a full day without my daily meds, "are lying. The wheelchair looks brand new, almost like you unboxed it this morning. I'm willing to bet it's not even a real wheelchair, huh? You look like a middle aged man, but I can see," I squinted at him, ignoring his genuine surprise, "somehow, you're much older than that. You look young, but then again my best friend just told me about how the Greek world's actually real, so it's probably another illusion or something. You're what, five thousand years old? Also, why horse legs?"
He remained in silence at my small list of evidence, shared with the stunned people in the cabin. Then he tossed his head back and laughed heartily for a good minute, soothing the growing bubble of panic that worked its way up in the silence after I stopped talking. He wiped a tear with the back of his hand, chuckling often at random.
"All my life, and I've never met someone as forthright as you. To answer your earlier statements, yes, I am not a paraplegic, the wheelchair is merely a front, a disguise if you will. And for who I am…" the wheelchair glowed white before fading away, showing himself for what he was.
"…"
"…"
"You're… half horse."
"The proper term is centaur, my boy. My name is Chiron."
I nodded, vaguely remembering the black sheep of the rowdy herd in Greek mythology. His horse half resembled a pure white horse. It wasn't the strangest thing I've seen, and that meant a lot considering yesterday's events.
"What's next, half-scorpions?"
"Let's not push the Fates about that." He nodded towards the door, silently encouraging me to follow. I pushed myself off the bed and onto my feet, momentarily stopping as I felt wood beneath bare feet.
"Where are my shoes?" I asked, checking my foot immediately for splinters.
"Ah, yes; we retrieved your belongings and put them beside your bed. Take your time in getting ready, I'll see you out front."
I looked at the others in the room. "Would you mind leaving?"
One of them said, "But you're just putting on shoes."
"Yeah, I'm just uncomfortable with people watching me while I change. So if you wouldn't mind..." I kindly gestured to the door. They all sighed in apparent frustration; didn't they understand I needed complete privacy? Thankfully they complied, some of them storming out and leaving me by myself. I sighed in relief.
Chiron said I could take my time getting ready. So that's what I'll do, and the Gods themselves can't stop me.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and I could've sworn it sounded ominous. Probably my imagination.
…
On second thought, I better hurry up.
A/N: Okay, so essays are done, now it's just the midterms I have to take. So out of the frying pan, but not out of the oven quite yet. Long time, no posting. Up next, Andrew gets a tour of camp and gets more than he bargained for.
The Hero and the Malig Knight (I'm not so sure about calling it "THATMG") will be updated soon, I just happen to have chosen a fight chapter- gosh, I hate writing combat: it's either not enough fighting or someone's overpowered. One of the reasons I took a break from my Pokemon story.
As always, thank you for reading this. If you enjoyed this, why not leave a like and/or follow? I appreciate your reviews, whether they're constructive or simple expressions of happiness; please leave one.
Write on!