Hi fam~
Still in NYC.
I swear we will be going places like, chapter after next. Tops

So... have some more fight scene attempts?

The first leap got it halfway up the tree, right underneath me. I yanked my legs up and tackled my mom out of the tree right as wickedly sharp steel claws gouged into my branch making the wood groan.

I twisted to take the impact and rolled to my feet once we slammed into the grass, pulled mom up and stepped away from her. Last time I saw this monster Thalia, Zoё and I killed it with lightning, arrows and astronaut food.

The Nemean Lion. A big-ass pussycat with invulnerability like someone dropped it in the River Styx and an attitude to match.

It should not have gotten so close. It's the size of a pickup truck for Hades' sake!

A bristly golden-brown truck with malicious gold eyes that stared straight at me from up the tree and roared so loud the leaves shook.

Oh great.

It remembers me.

It scrabbled to turn around and jumped down, the impact visibly rippling through muscle. Apparently even being a mythological lion does not save a cat from the perils of getting down from high places with forward-facing claws.

It started towards me, focused. I bent my knees and uncapped Riptide, ready to jump. If I jump on it's back it might open its mouth so I can-

It changed course, darting to the side, towards- MOM! It tensed and leapt, claws gleaming, powerful jaw closing on… thin air as she dodged to the side, claws of her own raking along its side, inch long icicles capping her fingers shattering against coarse tawny fur. Her Rain slowed it down slightly, but not enough, it twisted and swung a huge paw out, batting her into a tree. She hit it with a small noise and just…crumpled.

The bark was red.

My breath quickened. I froze. Couldn't move. Why can't I move?! Oh gods it's going for her again, it'll rip her open, tear through clothes, skin and spill her-ReDrEdReDrEdredredredREDshesbleedingohgodsshesgoingtodieNO!

I launched myself at the lion, closing the distance and physically tackling it away, flames pulsing in every muscle, battle fever a firestorm in my head, in my heart, on my tongue, fightfightfightfightfight.

We skidded and rolled, the full weight of the lion coming down on me, on my chest, trapping an arm and crushing the breath out of me, my vision going white as ribs creaked and something went snap.

I wheezed as it shifted but yanked up my other arm, thank the gods my sword-arm, up to skewer it as it went to bite my face off.

I missed. My arm now wedged literally in the lion's mouth, elbow to fist with Riptide sticking out the side, caught between two teeth. The jaws tried to close around my head, a yellow fang punctured skin at my temple and two more grazed my cheeks, a gust of hot, putrid breath choking me worse than its weight.

Cloud flames surged in my veins, new tissue burning into existence pushing against the fangs in my face, cutting, breaking again and again, hot agony dancing along my nerves, fire bubbling up in my lungs, mending bones, clearing blood, misting breath escaping gritted teeth lilac. I forced more along my arm making the muscles bulge and grow like a super steroids time-lapse video, straining and shaking against the sheer crushing power of the giant lions mouth.

It's tongue rasped at my elbow, ripping skin away. Blood trickled into my eye and hot saliva dripped into the other one. I squeezed them shut and pushed, teeth grinding, muscles burning and a fangs tugged out of my face, jaws opened just a bit and-

It roared and bit down.

I screamed.

Violet pulsed and flared. Muscles grew and shrunk. All I knew was painpainpainpainpain.

I felt coldsharpicepainvoid. I reached for them, bringing them forth even as the shards cut me, coating my skin hardsharpcolddark. Unbending. Unbreaking. Undead.

My eyes flew open and I roared back, yanking my arm out, dragging Riptide through the vulnerable top of its mouth, slicingslashingcutingkilling.

It threw itself off me and started writhing on the ground, desperately clawing at the black flames scorching it to charcoal from within.

I watched a moment before having myself up and staggering over. It would have killed me. My mom. Piper. How many demigods had it killed already since it reformed? Since it first formed? It was a monster. By nature and choice. It still didn't deserve to suffer. I swung my sword, a blur of brozevioletlilacobsidian, and slayed the Nemean Lion. Again. HoWmAnYmOrEtImEs?Disintegrating it into yellow sands and the lionskin Spoils.

Then the world came back into colour.

Mom!

My eyes widened and next blink I was next to her, she was breathing (thank the gods).

Right, First Aid. Uhm, I've got ambrosia- no, godly food burns mortals alive, (blood to ash, bones to sand, never ever give a mortal divine sustenance… unless you mean to kill them), er, recovery position? She was breathing and… has a pulse. It… seems to be a normal beat? Mine's fast on adrenalin, but usually slower than what hers is now? No wounds (apart from her HeAd that's bleedingredohgodsohgods). Should I move her (no)? There's no-one around, but the grounds churned up and a bit… scorched, someone might be by to investigate the noises of the fight, in wasn't quiet. There's probably more monsters nearby. There always are. They don't really go after mortals, but blood spilled is easy prey. Too many trees. Exposed location. With the noise, it's got to be compromised by now. The apartment's not far, if I run… three minutes. Pal's there. Paul will know what to do. He knows stuff. Yeah.

I wrapped in in the skin (an invulnerable blanket can only be a good thing), shuffled her into my arms (gentlygently, princess hold, arms disabled but possible internal injury, so gentlegentle, rest her head on my shoulder, right, good, okay) and took off.

~~~∞Ω∞~~~

Grover found me before I even got out of Central Park.

"Percy!" He called, eyes wild, "Percy, what happened?! You smell like cat and your face-! Blaah! Are you alright?"

I shrugged his hands off and rasped out, "Grover, I'm fine, my mom-" he laid a hand on her head and closed his eyes briefly,

"She's okay, no concussion, just unconscious, but Percy, by Pan's Pipes what happened? You went through some major emotional shifts but, like, calmly? But then you just-" he paused. And stared. "Percy. My man, Perce. Is that the actual Nemean Lion's pelt" his voice was absolutely flat. "It is isn't it. Di Immortales, we left you alone for an hour! You weren't even alone!"

That…that made me bristle. "Excuse me for fighting off monsters who want to tear me limb from limb and suck out my spinal fluid. Next time I'll slit my own throat, save us all the trouble." My breath stalled. I…shouldn't have said that.

"P-Percy…" I refocused on Grover just as he lunged forward. I flinched. He wrapped his arms around me and bleated, "Blaah. Percy no! Don't- don't say that! We were worried! I was worried! You're my best friend and I've only just got you back and I couldn't find you and no matter how hard I try I just can't help you! I can never help you! You spent so much time saving me, even when I was supposed to be your Protector! You're the brother I never had and every time I try to help you, you shut me out! I can't- I can't- Brother…" he sobbed. "Please don't shut me out."

I scrunched down awkwardly to tuck my face into his shoulder. My eyes stung. "I'm sorry" I whispered hoarsely, "Brother, I'm sorry. It's just, too much has happened and keeps happening and everything changes again and again and-" I coughed wetly. "What am I supposed to do now G-Man?"

I pressed my forehead against his bristly neck "There's no prophecy, I don't have to keep fighting, but" at this point I was sobbing in earnest, "I don't know how to stop. I-I can't stay at the Camps or, or go to college, not without-" I chocked. Grover's hand soothed up and down my back. My spine was starting to twinge. I adjusted my grip on mom slightly. My eyes were burning, my throat was sore and I was just so tired. I just needed- "G-Man, what do I do now?"

"…Live."

~~~∞Ω∞~~~

Jason met us at the door.

He took exactly one look at us before bustling us into the building, securely closing the door and setting mom up on the couch with blankets and pulling a First Aid kit out from under the sink and chucking it at my head alongside orders to shower and change.

I stripped off, turned on the shower and sighed, the water washing away my stress and lingering injuries, settling the agitated crashing waves of billow clouds roiling in my head.

The hot water felt divine. Literally, the only thing that could be better is a proper Roman Bath. Aaah.

Now, I hadn't known Jason long, but by the gods did knowing he was there let me relax. Knowing he could at least hold his own against me (we really should have a rematch of Kansas… though maybe a bit less lethally intentioned…) and seeing the way his eyes flickered over my mom, to Estelle's room, to the windows and front door… yeah, Jason would die to protect them for me. They were safe with him, he was strong and cared and could co-ordinate Piper, Paul, Grover, Mom and Estelle for assault and escape if needed and- it was such a relief to have someone I could trust was strong and loyal… I could kiss him.

Wait.

What?

I mean, Superman's pretty and all but, uh. What?

I dragged a hand over my hair, pulling it away from where it was brushing my cheekbones and blew out a breath. Shower thoughts huh. A smudge of black in my periphery caught my attention; my Legion tattoo, SPQR with one year's line of service. A brand I took on willingly, forever binding me to the Roman people, just as my beads and scars do to the Greeks.

Holding my hands out in front of me, for the first time in a long while, I took a moment to look at myself. As the years went by, I looked in the mirror less and less because of the stranger I saw staring back. The man with an eyebrow split into bits with invisible lines, with hollow cheeks and a look in his eyes that only got more fractured and shaded each time I dared to look. I liked to pretend that by avoiding mirrors I could hide from the hardened warrior I didn't want to be (because that's who he was, a warrior. A soldier. A veteran. A damaged weapon with demons in his mind and ghosts in his eyes that scared me to look too deep into). But scars don't lie and I've got scars everywhere. Some old and faded, scuffs and grazes from skateboarding, speckled burns from cigar ash and cuts from broken glass. Some healed to near indistinction; slightly shiny skin from first degree burns, needle-thing crisscrossed lines of cuts like the faintest of shadows against tanned flesh. The rest though… it's not pretty to look at. Twisted, textured warping from punctures, blade and otherwise, burns and acid spatters blooming deep pink and shiny white, stark silver grey lines, cuts, furrows and gouges, deep and harrowingly permanent. Marks, speckles, flecks and lines that could poetically be called a meteor field if it weren't so horrific.

All demigods have scars. From training, from accidents, from quests or fighting monsters, but there's barely a square inch of unmarked skin on my body and even by demigod standards that fact is harrowing.

Because every disfiguring mark tells a story. And none of them are happy.

A crescent of punctures on one shoulder; the hellhound at my first Capture-the-Flag, when I was first singled out, told I was different even from the people I should have belonged to for that very fact, when I first felt the weight of expectation.

A notch above my hipbone, surrounded by a halo of spidery veins; the pit scorpion's sting. When I first tasted the bitterness of betrayal. When Luke destroyed the 'what-could-have-been's of our fledgling connection and left me to die alone in excruciating pain.

A burn flaring up one side; Beckendorf sacrificing himself to blow up the Princess Andromeda. The lesson learned: You can't save everyone.

More and more and more, wrapping around me like ropes, binding me like chains of failure -too slow, too clumsy, too weak, too dumb, too late- there was a tugging in my stomach, water layered itself on my skin (clouding the image hiding my sin). I blinked and realised my breath was shaking and my hands were clenched in fists. I ripped my eyes away. I breathed.

I let go of the water and got out of the shower, willing myself dry and grabbed a towel for my waist and another to throw around my shoulders. No point subjecting everyone to 'all this'. Plus, I don't like my mortal spot, the point opposite my navel, being without some sort of cover, even though the Curse of Achilles is gone now…just another trauma tick for me then! Right next to my constant need to check that Riptide's within reach and the newer itch to have a 'Go-bag' ready with plenty of non-perishable food and ambrosia. Just in-case I end up on the streets with no knowledge of the local weapon and supply caches (Hera).

Padding out the bathroom, I stuck my head into the living-room (Paul and Jason cooking together… we're having pasta tonight then… Grover's on the couch…meditating…?) and paused outside Estelle's room to listen for her, mom and Piper (they were talking quietly, but they sounded okay so I didn't try to eavesdrop) then continued to my own room and shut the door with a click.

I pulled on some jeans and a long-sleeved top and collapsed back on the bed. The ceiling was sky blue, with little flecks of white like stars (…Bob says 'Hello'….). My room. I'd painted the walls myself, had school-books piled on the desk, clothes in the draws and knick-knacks sat on the shelf. It was mine.

But it was not.

The work-books are useless. I can't play at being a kid and go back to school, I can't sit in a cramped room with strangers on all sides and focus enough to learn anything. The odd and ends I've got as decoration just hurt because they're mementos of better times, when the future was a golden road and I had my partner to walk it with me. And the walls, in shades of ocean blue and green that once brought me comfort, now pressed against me crowding ininin making my heart pick up and my palms sweat because it's surrounding me on all sides, can'tbreathecan'tbreathe, someonehelpi'mDrOwNiNg.

A knock on the door. (I blinked, I swallowed, I breathed.)

"Hey, it's uh, me. You up for some company?" Piper. I got up and replied slightly hoarsely.

"Yeah, give me a sec"

I let her in and we sat awkwardly on the bed across from each other. "Are you alright?" I asked.

She looked startled, "Yeah I'm- I actually just had a talk with your mom." I nodded, talking to her always made me feel better, "What are we going to do now?" What? I must have said it aloud because she blinked and repeated herself, "Your mom said this place isn't your territory, not really, so as a Cloud you'll want to leave sooner rather than later. Also, I…think it would be a good idea to get out there you know? Just get away from… all this for a bit? It's what my dad does when the media gets too much or something really bad happens…" she trailed off and shifted before straightening again, "So, where are we going? What are we going to do?"

I stared "I-I don't know. Piper, and I have no idea where to even start. I've never- I've never been without any guidelines at all; I can't go to school, I can't stay at a Camp, there's no prophecy to interpret or any quests to go on…for demigod life, we're at peace and- and I really don't know how to live like this." I cut off, breathing faster than I'd like to admit. Piper was quiet for a moment, fingers worrying her sleeves, then her kaleidoscope eyes darkened to navy and slid off to the side. She spoke, "Before Camp, I was at the Wilderness School for Juvenile Delinquents with Leo and…and Jason. Only Jason wasn't there. He was a Mist memory. All the time we spent together, all the laughs, the stories, the dates and kisses, were made up and suddenly I had a boyfriend I actually knew nothing about and who sure as hell didn't know me. Then I get to Camp, I learn to fight and recognize gods and monsters and I hear stories of someone who is impossibly strong even among demigods but who cares so much he's human the way most eventually forget. I'm there about a week before leaving on a quest and another three after it's done." Her lips thinned, "I liked life at Camp and the people there, but I didn't love them

"Then we were fighting Her, Frank was leading the Legion, Hazel was everywhere as support, Leo was a one-man ballistic armoury and I was trying to slow Her down, get Her to sleep, but I couldn't even do that, it wasn't working, and I needed Jason to get close enough to even try and then…I saw you. You pushed yourself up for them, rallied them and led them and I realised then, that you love them. You love them so deeply it hurts but you can't stop because that's who you are. You rip yourself apart with caring because of course you would. They're yours. You were in so much pain, but you gave them the best you could and then you saw Her and you screamed. You raised you blade and fought with your teeth bared and tears streaming down your face. No matter what the Fates had to say, you were going to take her down. Forever.

"I watched you fight with rage born of a love that defied Fate itself and I thought: I want that. If there are people who love so fiercely and live so brightly, then those are who I want to belong to. I want to be able to look at a people and think I would burn the world for you and see that looking right back at me. So I pushed. I reached in and pushed all that I was into my voice because if it was the last thing I did I would make Her sleep. So I did.

"With Rain flames, I've got a power I didn't before, but I'm not strong in the way that matters. I don't know you really well, but I can tell that you will always find your way no matter where you are or with who, even if you're adrift now, you can and will adapt. And I can't. Not by myself, I just sit and stagnate if I don't have a direction to go in, if I don't know what people expect from me.

"I asked to come along with you because I don't really know who I am, never have, but I though if anyone could…help me find out, it would be you…"

~~~∞Ω∞~~~

His pupils were reduced to pin-pricks in storm green. That…is a sign of shock isn't it? Panic?

"You know this life better than me, so if you need guidelines? Make them. You know how like I don't. Learn how to live like this, and I'll be right there with you because I don't want to hide away and pretend to be someone I'm not to survive, but I don't know what else to do. Yet."

No, that didn't work.

Maybe she should be…clearer?

"I'm not asking you to lead me" ah, that was it, he started breathing again. Good. Sally would scalp me if I distressed her son, she'd said as much in between a run-down of Flames and a few Rain-tricks to start me off "Just let me walk with you, show me how to stand beside you." I clenched my fists "I refuse to feel helpless anymore."

His eyes finally focused on mine again. They flared ethereal violet and my lips pulled back from my teeth as cool washed through me with a prickle of deadly ice.

Yes. He got me.

NOT A CLIFFHANGER! *Shock*
I don't know if satyrs can heal people, but Grover has Pan magic buffs so he can sense when things are not as they should be...? Shhhhhh.
The poor awkward bean just realising boys can be pretty too~

Adieu~