Ch4
"Well boy, it sounds to me like you found yourself a Fury."
Percy fought back a shiver as the room seemed suddenly colder. He and Bobby were surrounded by books, having been researching just what Percy had killed. They hadn't been able to find anything about his pen-that-was-a-sword dilemma, but they were both carefully skirting that issue. Carefully ignoring the fact that Percy had just happened to have the necessary weapon to slay the monster. Still, whenever the topic came up Bobby got a strange look in his eye, like he had a thought that was just out of reach. Percy sighed and leaned back in his chair, cracking his back and trying to release the tension in his neck. Bobby had done most of the heavy lifting, so to speak, due to Percy's rather short attention span, but Percy had been the one to track down all the books. It had been easier said than done, thanks to Bobby's obscure organisation patterns and unwillingness to give clear directions and explanations. He fought back a yawn. It had taken a few days to find an answer- which said something about the creature's obscurity -and each night Percy had been plagued by nightmares. Visions of two beings fighting. Sea and Sky locked in vicious battle. He always awoke feeling troubled and exhausted, as though he hadn't rested at all. As though he had been the one fighting rather than just screaming ineffectually into the wind that always blew through the dreams.
"So," Percy began, a small smirk forming across his lips. "A Fury. Awesome. Why don't we pretend that I know nothing about Greek Mythology and you can explain just what that is." Bobby rolled his eyes at the smart-mouthed kid in front of him, but obliged. "The Erinyes, or Furies, were three goddesses of Greek Mythology. They were thought to be goddesses of vengeance and retribution with a preference for punishing men who committed offences against the gods." Percy shifted in his seat and Bobby raised an eyebrow. "So, kid, piss off any gods lately?" Percy flushed before giving a sheepish smile.
"Would showing disrespect in front of an ancient stele count?" His fingers tapped restlessly as he took in Bobby's disbelieving expression. His smile dropped as he sighed. "I know, I know. Don't draw attention to yourself Percy, and, your studies matter Percy, and, think before you act Percy." He slumped in his seat. Bobby gave a dry chuckle.
"Ah balls kiddo, hunters find themselves in situations like that all the time. Don't take everything those Winchesters say to heart. The mark of a true hunter is being able to get yourself out of whatever strange situation you find yourself in, and from what you've said I think you handled yourself just fine."
Percy's face brightened at that. "I don't know why, but even after everything I'm still somewhat surprised that Greek monsters actually exist." Bobby raised an eyebrow,
"It's 'cause you're relatively new to this. The wow factor wears off, trust me."
"You just think that 'cause you're old."
"What!"
"I said, could you imagine if the heroes of old were still running around?" Percy might've been trying to avoid the lecture that his unique brand of cheek always got him, but even as he said it something in him stirred. There was a rumbling in his ears, and for just a second, the scent of the ocean filled the room.
"That's fool's thinking." Bobby's derisive voice snapped Percy back to attention and the moment was gone. He turned to face Bobby's glare.
"What do you mean?"
"Could you imagine the havoc Demigods would wreak if they were still running around today? With the destructive powers they possessed they'd be just as bad as the monsters we hunt, if not worse. Flying around, summoning lightning, causing earthquakes - whether they meant harm or not, mark my words, the damage they left behind would be epic and not in a good way."
Percy swallowed roughly. For some reason, something in him shrank back at those words. Stop it, he thought. You're being irrational and emotional. Besides, he's right. Demigods in today's world, what was I thinking? Still, something inside of him stung at Bobby's dismissive eye roll, and in the deep recesses of his mind a quiet voice whispered to him.
Leave. He doesn't understand. He can't understand. You're not safe here. Somewhere inside of him, an itch started up.
That night he had his worst dream yet. It started in what looked like a summer camp, only the kids were running around with bronze armour and weapons of all kinds. The sound of clashing swords could be heard in the background, but his attention was stolen by Mr. Brunner, or, what looked like Mr. Brunner. Last time Percy had checked, Brunner wasn't a horse from the waist down.
Centaur, he heard Sam's voice correct.
Imaginary, he shot back.
Above everyone the steel grey sky rumbled menacingly and ozone charged the air. Brunner shuffled nervously in place, speaking to someone just out of sight.
"We need to find him. He could be in danger."
Lightning split the sky, blinding Percy temporarily. When his vision cleared the setting had changed considerably. He was on a beach, waves crashing, rain falling, the wind whipping through his hair hard enough to sting. Squinting through the conditions, Percy noticed two men in togas wrestling in front of him.
"Return what you stole!" The one in blue roared. Spit flew from his mouth. Molten gold ran from his temple. It glittered across his knuckles as he raised his fist to attack.
"Recant your lies, brother!" The one in green had his nose bent at an odd angle, gold dripping from his nostrils and matting in his dark beard. Both men were heaving, muscles tense, glaring hard enough to strip flesh from bone. They paused for a breath, waiting for the other to back down, before launching themselves at each other once more. A dark chuckle rumbled from below. Ancient. Goading.
"That's it, young ones." It crooned, "destroy yourselves from the inside."
The intensity and frequency of the waves was increasing, slamming onto the shore with such ferocity that the earth shuddered, throwing Percy off balance. He took a few staggering steps forward, knowing somehow that he needed to stop this. His last image was that of the two men snarling, glaring with intensity before lightning once more split the sky.
Percy woke, shoulders heaving, gasping for breath as if it had been him battling with such fury. He was already in a bad mood when he headed downstairs, sleep deprived, hungry, and fighting the recent mental itch telling him he wasn't safe and he needed to head East- because that was both specific and helpful -not to mention his nightmares that made no sense and left him with a sense of impending doom. So when Bobby asked him to consider calling the Winchesters, his response wasn't the best it could've been.
"Why the fuck would I want to talk to them? They've made it pretty clear how they feel about me. Hell, Sam even went so far as to disconnect his phone. Besides, Mum knows I'm safe even if she doesn't know my exact location, so all the important people know."
Bobby raised an eyebrow even as he frowned. "Don't take that tone with me boy, I ain't done anything to you. Besides, ever considered you don't know the whole story?"
Percy scowled. "I checked the police and FBI databases and they haven't been accused of anything so they're not lying low to hide from the feds, and one of them always sends a blank email if they have to go to ground anyway, so what possible reason could they have to ignore twelve phone calls? Each!"
The impressed look on Bobby's face at Percy's hacking skills had faded at Percy's scathing tone. He looked uncomfortable and a little angry at being caught in the middle of the current family argument. He huffed.
"Forget I said anything, boy. But just remember, sometimes, it ain't all about you." He shuffled off, scowling.
Percy felt a little guilty for snapping, but the urge to run, flee, leave was growing stronger, buzzing under his skin and making his flesh crawl. Overnight it has blossomed from an itch and into more of a burn, raging inside of him, eating him up from the inside.
Not safe not safe not safe- stop.
Percy took a deep breath and set about making it up to Bobby. Lord knows the man wouldn't ever accept an apology.
That night, Percy couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to leave. Something inside of him was screaming. Convinced he was in danger. Convinced he was being hunted. He wasn't sure if the dreams were better or worse than no sleep at all. Percy rolled out of bed, he'd been lying awake for nearing three hours now and it wasn't likely he was going to get any sleep. He headed downstairs, making for the kitchen and hopefully a late night snack that would settle his stomach, if not his mind. He only made it as far as the staircase, pausing along the landing when a raised voice could be heard. He froze at the top of the stairs when he recognised Bobby's angry voice as it carried up to him.
"Damn it John, pick up the goddamn phone for once in your miserable life. Percy's here at the salvage yard. He seems to think you and the boys have abandoned him and I don't know how to justify to him that you're on a bender of some sorts. Hell, I shouldn't have to justify to him, that's your job. Just because Sam's… You need to realise that you have more than one son for fucks sake. You're a right bastard for leaving the kid when he needed help. And I'm not just talking about Percy. Stop being an ass and call me back."
Percy felt sick to his stomach. He'd trusted Bobby to have his back. Trusted him to keep his secret. John was on a bender, and what had Bobby said? Sometimes, it ain't all about you? He was twelve and John wouldn't pick up the phone because he was drunk? The burning need to leave only seemed to grow in response to his turmoil, even as his mind narrowed, focusing on everyone who'd let him down recently.
John. Dean. Sam. Grover. Bobby.
He slipped back into the bedroom to pack.
It wasn't until late morning that Bobby noticed something was wrong. A little late for a hunter of his calibre, but cut him some slack, he'd had a rough few days. One thing he'd learnt over the past few days was that while Percy might have been an active and energetic kid, a morning person he was not. Still, when ten o'clock rolled around and Bobby hadn't heard Percy shuffling around he grew concerned.
"Percy?" Bobby's voice echoed up the staircase, but all that could be heard was the creaking of the old house. He'd had a funny feeling since Percy had snapped at him yesterday, but he'd thought the kid was just feeling restless. The walls groaned ominously, seemingly trying to warn Bobby that something was off. That something was wrong. By the time Bobby reached Percy's room, he already knew Percy was gone. The empty bedroom only confirmed his fears. Everything had been packed away and Percy's travel bag was missing. A single piece of paper rested on the nightstand, and Bobby felt his heart sink as he read Percy's messy scrawl. Percy had attempted to start the letter many times, with words crossed out many times over, but Bobby was able to read the message none-the-less.
Bobby,
Don't look for me.
I overheard your phone call this morning. I couldn't stay here, and I don't want to see John right now either. I don't care if there were reasons for them leaving me, John was on a fucking bender and I needed help and they weren't there.
I'll try to let you know when I get where I'm going, but no promises.
Percy.
"Balls." Bobby muttered, stomping back down the stairs. He paused at the bottom before muttering to himself, "what twelve year old hitch-hikes across America because of a phone call? Winchesters." He rubbed a hand across his tired face and slipped his phone out of his pocket, dialling a familiar number. As the phone rang sounded he couldn't help but mutter,
"God damn it boy, pick up." The call clicked through and he almost sagged in relief.
"Who the fuck is calling me at this hour?" The voice was rough and groggy from sleep, but the pissed off tone sounded wide awake, and unhappy about it too.
"Shut up princess, it's ten o'clock and not my fault you're hung over."
"What do you want, Bobby? You've got about five minutes before I start drinking again."
"It's about Percy."
"What about the squirt?"
"You really haven't been checking your phone have ya? When he told me none of you were picking up I almost called bullshit. John I could believe, but you?"
"Fuck off Bobby, I picked up your call didn't- wait you've spoken to Percy?"
"Spoken to him? He's only been living in my house. Check your damn messages, Dean Winchester, and sober up." Bobby hung up with a click and sighed. "Idjits, all of them. I'm too old to be dealing with this shit."
Dean looked at his phone, bleary eyed, head pounding. His mouth tasted like death, but all he could focus on was Sam- no. He was too sober for thoughts of Sam. Groaning, Dean managed to prop himself into an upright-ish position. The lumpy motel bed did nothing to improve his sour mood and the faded yellow wallpaper assaulted his eyes as he opened one of the few beers left on the nightstand. Squinting at the light from his phone and trying to ignore his raging headache, he opened his call log.
Missed Call Percy (12)
Dean's stomach dropped. The beer can slipped from his fingers, splattering across the hideous carpet. With trembling fingers Dean played the most recent message.
'Dean.' Percy's tired voice was a sobering mix of anger and bitterness, somehow managing to convey his exhaustion and disappointment in one word. 'I guess you've made your stance clear. Don't worry, I won't be calling again. I get that I'm not your brother, but it would've been nice if you'd just picked up the fucking phone to tell me to piss off. Certainly would've saved time.'
Dean flinched at the venom in Percy's voice. He'd known Percy swore- when you spent time with the Winchesters it was an inevitable habit with the company they kept- but he'd never heard it directed at him before.
'Let Sam know that he's in the same boat, since I can't leave him a message. Kind of need to know his new phone number for that. Still, I got his message quicker than yours,'
Dean flinched again at the mention of Sam. He hadn't realised that Sam hadn't given his new number to Percy. He knew that Dad didn't have it, but that was a given. (If you walk out that door-)
'Ghosted by my own fucking family. Wow. New low, Jackson. Anyway, I'm leaving Yancy, maybe I'll just check myself into an Asylum or something.'
Here Percy gave a bitter chuckle, and Dean couldn't feel lower than he already did. How bad was it for Percy to be avoiding home? For him to be considering checking in to an institution?
'Yeah. I guess that's it. So long, Winchester. See you never.'
Dean sat quietly on the bed. The faint sounds from outside were the only noises to break the loaded silence, until with a roar Dean picked up another beer can and hurled it at the wall. It hit the wall with an unsatisfying dull clunk and dropped to the ground.
"FUCK!" Dean hurled the bedside lamp across the room. It crunched satisfyingly against the far wall and broke in half. Dean stood in the middle of the room, heaving and trying not to cry. He ran a hand across his face, rubbing at his stubble before picking up his phone once more. He sent a quick text to Bobby with Sally Jackson's phone number before settling back onto the bed to listen. He had to know what had happened. He braced himself, and hit play.
'Dean, it's me. Listen, something weird is going on at Yancy…'
Sally Jackson leaned against the kitchen bench drinking a cup of bad coffee and trying to ignore the stench that came from living with Gabe. That came from being in the general vicinity of Gabe, really. She let her eyes fall shut and inhaled the strong aroma of coffee, letting it wash over her as tried to imagine she was somewhere nicer and mentally prepared for her day. Her musings were interrupted by the phone ringing. She hurried to pick it up in case it was Percy- she didn't want Gabe getting there first and hanging up on him.
"Hello, you've reached the Jackson-Ugliano household, you're speaking with Sally Jackson."
"Ms. Jackson," a gruff voice sounded over the receiver. "My name is Bobby Singer, Percy's been staying with me the past few days. Dean Winchester gave me your number."
Sally paused. The fact that it wasn't Percy on the other end and that he hadn't provided the number meant that he probably didn't know about the phone call. Possibly, he wasn't in a position where he could make the phone call.
"How can I help you, Mr. Singer?" Sally took another sip of coffee before putting the cup down and bracing herself for the worst.
"Percy has been acting...strange the past couple 'a days. I understand that he's an energetic boy, but he's been...antsy."
Sally's stomach dropped. Poseidon had warned her that Percy would eventually feel the draw to camp. It was in his DNA, the Gods' gift to their children; an internal compass to a place they could be safe. She'd thought she'd have more time.
"He left for someplace this morning, didn't tell me where, just left a note." Bobby continued, oblivious to her turmoil. "I can read it if you want? You might make more sense of it than me."
Sally swallowed roughly. "That won't be necessary Mr. Singer, I have a good idea of where he's going. Thank you for being there for Percy, and for everything you've done for him."
"It was no problem Ms. Jackson, a friend of the Winchester boys, tends to be a friend of mine, although a little heads up before his next visit would be appreciated." Bobby cleared his throat, trying to remove the worry from his voice. "Good luck. Let me know when you find him."
The call ended with a click, and Sally put the phone down trying not to crumple into a ball on the floor. She took a deep breath, downed the rest of her coffee, and picked up the phone once more. Her next call went through quickly.
"Hey Angie? It's Sally. Would you be able to cover my shift for a few days? There's been a family emergency."
Percy had been running and hitch-hiking for two days. He'd made it to New York, careful to avoid anywhere he might be recognised by friends or family. He was even more careful to avoid places he might be picked up by the police; Percy had a troublesome look about him on a good day, factor in the fact that he hadn't stopped moving for two days and he was nearly guaranteed a jail cell for the night. His skin felt greasy and he was sure he smelt terrible, but he didn't have time to stop. Every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by visions of two men fighting and that strange camp. On top of that, he was being hunted. By what, he wasn't sure, but he knew it was big. Knew it was relentless. It had chased him across the last three states. He would've stopped to fight, but its sheer size and strangeness threw him off, not to mention his only weapon was a small pocket knife. Way to be prepared Percy. As it was he'd had a few near misses. After two days Percy had managed to make it to New York but it was right behind him. He'd only just outsmarted the beast- and it was a beast -with his intimate knowledge of New York streets, ducking through alleys and cutting across parks. It's eyesight couldn't have been great because it frequently lost him in crowds, but crowds were monitored, which meant police, which left him with the aforementioned problem of jail time. Besides, the beast always caught up to him eventually.
The weird itch had directed Percy to Long Island, of all places. It had only grown...not stronger but more direct as he closed in on what he hoped was somewhere safe. Something inside of him was telling him it was someplace safe, in any case. At the very least he hoped there was someone there who could help with his problem. If there were answers there too then he'd be able to kill two birds with one stone: no more monster and an understanding of what exactly was happening to him.
First, he had to get there. Wherever there was.
As he'd approached New York the sky had gotten blacker and blacker, smothering the sun and darkening everyone's mood to reflect the charcoal colour of the clouds. Yesterday it had started raining. It still hadn't stopped. Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, and in an instant Percy's soaked hair stood on end. Instinctively looking behind him, a crack of lightning illuminated the beast behind him. In the split second provided Percy was able to make out two twisting horns, a shaggy head, and glowing red eyes. He started running.
He only made it a few hundred metres down the road before headlights and a horn blaring caught his attention. Gabe's Camaro slammed to a stop beside him. Sally leaned out the window,
"Get in!" Percy didn't hesitate, and soon they were tearing up the road, trying to put as much distance between them and the Thing.
"Mum, behind us-"
"Pasiphae's son, I know." Sally interrupted.
"Pasiphae's what? You mean that's the Minot-"
"Shh! Names have power, Percy." Sally's voice shook as she kept a wary eye on the sky. Its rumbling increased in volume with every second that passed.
"Mum," Percy began, "what's going on? How did you know I'd be here? And how do you know where I'm going?" Sally deliberately didn't make eye contact.
"It's because of your father, Percy. His side of the family aren't the most understanding, and they've made more than their fair share of enemies over the years."
"What, and they decided that because he's my gene donor that I'm fair game? How is that fair? What aren't you telling me?" Sally ignored his questions and continued.
"Bobby gave me a call not long after you left, that's how I knew to come looking for you."
"But how did you know I'd be here? I didn't know I'd be here." Sally tightened her grip on the steering wheel and squinted through the rain. It had increased from the drizzle it had started as, and was now hammering against the windshield. A great bellow resounded behind them, and Sally somehow pressed Gabe's car into going faster.
"Percy-" The world erupted into white. Percy could feel a vague buzzing in his ears and across his skin. He was weightless. Floating.
He slammed back into his seat, head smashing into the dashboard and blood in his mouth. The airbag burst from it's confined space, forcing his battered head back into the headrest. In the back of his mind all he could think was so this is what lightning feels like.
Someone was pulling him from the wreckage, calling his name desperately.
"Percy!" He stumbled as he was pulled upright. "Percy, pay attention!" He knew that voice. "Percy, are you listening?"
"Mum?" His tongue felt like rubber, but his slurred question seemed to be taken as an indication he was alright. His mum slung his arm over her shoulders and started pulling him along. His head felt like it was stuffed full of fuzz, but it was clearing slowly.
"See the big tree on the hill? That's where the barrier is. Get across there and you'll be safe, alright?"
"Safe," Percy mumbled. He wasn't sure how his mum knew he was listening, but she kept talking.
"Listen to me. Pasiphae's son can't see very well, but his sense of smell is perfect, alright? If he gets close, wait until he charges and then jump out of the way. Come on, Percy, this is why I sent you to John, so you'd be ready for this."
At that, something in Percy jolted into awareness and his mind finally cleared. His legs started responding and their speed doubled. The sound of something heavy moving at speed could be heard behind them and Percy risked a glance over his shoulder. He lunged at Sally, pushing them both out of the way of the wreck of a car falling from the sky. Percy pulled his mother upright and out of the mud, dragging her towards the giant pine tree on the hill. It was close. So close. Percy could see a shimmering veil stretching from either side of it. His heart was pounding and his head ached, but Percy redoubled his efforts to get them up the hill. Three hundred metres. Two hundred. One.
Sally stopped abruptly, looking back. The ground was trembling with the force of the Minotaur's footsteps, but Percy remained unaffected.
"Mum c'mon we have to go. We're nearly there!" Sally looked terrified, but resolved.
"Percy, I can't cross the barrier."
"What do you mean? It's right there, let's go!"
"It won't let me through. Go, Percy!"
"No! I won't leave you!" Sally gave him a gentle push towards the barrier. Then, the Minotaur was upon them. Between one breath and the next he had Sally in his meaty grasp. Percy didn't even have time to scream before all that was left of Sally was a faint shower of golden sparks, drifting towards the ground. Percy felt numb. There was a roaring in his ears, blocking any other sounds. The Minotaur spun to face Percy, a twisted grin marring its features, and Percy's apathy sparked to rage. He palmed his silver pocket knife, despite the fact that it's little blade would do fuck all to a monster of this size. Still, its slight weight was an added comfort in his hand.
The Minotaur charged. Percy waited until the last second before leaping to the side. The Minotaur passed by him, unable to change directions in time. As it charged past the Minotaur threw out its arm, clipping Percy and sending him flying. The pocket knife flew out of his hand as his breath left him in one swift movement and the world blurred as his already battered head bounced off of a rock embedded in the ground. The Minotaur spun around as Percy tried to regain his breath. He braced against the tree, legs wobbly underneath him as the Minotaur charged towards him, arms spread wide. There was nowhere to go. The mud meant he couldn't grip the ground enough to throw himself sideways, and the Minotaur's outstretched arms made it a futile endeavour regardless. There was nowhere to go. Nowhere, but up. Drenched, grieving, and furious, Percy waited until the last possible moment and leapt straight up. He kicked off the Minotaur's face and grabbed a horn as he flipped past, turning to land on the Minotaur's shoulders. He braced, still gripping the horn.
"This is for my mum, you son of a bitch." Percy pulled. His leg muscles strained and his arms ached. With clenched teeth, Percy fell back with a resounding SNAP, the Minotaur horn clutched in his tight grip. His head ached and his vision still swam, but a thrill of victory began to rise in him. The Minotaur bellowed in pain. It spun around, off balance and leaning slightly to one side. It staggered forwards a few steps and Percy rolled to his feet. He bared his teeth in a feral smile. He lunged, ducking under the Minotaur's wild arms and drove the horn forwards with all his might.
The quickest way to the heart is between the fourth and fifth ribs, Sam's voice whispered in his ears. A cut off choking sound came from the back of the Minotaur's throat. Around the horn in his side the Minotaur started disintegrating. Yellow powder stained the mud as the rain washed it into the ground, and after a few seconds all that was left was the scent of sulphur and a rapidly fading stain.
A single tear slid down Percy's cheek. It was quickly followed by another. And another. Percy fell to his knees with a cry, hunched over the spot where he'd just lost his mother. The rain had soaked him through, plastering his hair to his head. He made no move to get up, eyes fixed on the broken horn that lay in the mud. His ears were ringing and in a distant way Percy was aware of the way his shoulders were heaving with the force of his sobs.
She's gone she's gone she's goneshe'sgoneshe'sgone
He felt dizzy, like he was unable to get enough air, and his vision seemed to be dimming. The thunder above him rumbled ominously, threatening to strike him again, but when a shadow appeared over his shoulder Percy didn't bother to move. He didn't even bother to check who, or what, was there.
"Oh, Percy." A wizened hand rested on his shaking shoulder, but he just hunched in further, trying not to give in to the bile that was crawling up his throat with every heaving breath. He was dimly aware of someone else talking.
"He's hyperventilating. Grover, Annabeth, help carry him, I don't think he's in any shape to walk. Take him down to the Big House, he needs medical attention."
Percy felt people lifting him. For once, the ever present voice of John Winchester in his head telling him to be vigilant was silent. The world was growing dimmer, blurring no matter how hard he tried to focus. His limbs and muscles weren't responding. The voices sounded far away now. Like in another room, or underwater. The last thing Percy felt was the shimmer of the barrier passing over him before the darkness claimed him. The buzzing under his skin finally silenced.