"They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent."
I poured some golden drachmas in the pouch. As soon as I closed it, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a pop!
"I am impertinent, "I said.
I looked at Annabeth, daring her to criticize.
She didn't. She seemed resigned to the fact that I had a major talent for ticking off the gods.
"Come on," she muttered. "We need a new plan."
― Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief
"So, Sally wound up with it?"
"Yeah, I told you then, remember?"
Percy was standing at the kitchen table, a week before his fifteenth birthday, with Annabeth and Grover on either side of him. All three of them were stood staring at a beaten-up cardboard box in the middle of the table.
'I thought the letter said she'd handled it, or something like that?' Annabeth reached a tentative hand to the box but yanked it back before it made contact.
"She did. It's been in our storage container in the basement since we moved in. We haven't accidently murdered the super yet, so don't look at me like it was irresponsible. But if we move in with Paul, or if he moves in with us, my Mom thinks we'd better get rid of it."
For the first time, Annabeth looked away from the box, at Percy. "It's going well then? With him and your mom? I mean, it muat be If they're thinking of moving in with each other."
Annabeth had her silver eyes fixed on him, concerned. Her curls were down and tucked behind her ears so he could still see her silver owl-earrings. His brain short circuited for a minute when he met her eyes. That was happening more and more recently. The world was ending, he had a million commitments and things to think about, but somehow Annabeth kept climbing to the top of that list.
He cleared his throat, made a non-committal hmph sound and dragged his eyes back onto the box, focussing on the job at hand. Smooth, Jackson.
Out of the corner of eye he could see Annabeth roll her eyes, and gesture to Grover as if to say you try, goat boy.
He could understand why she wanted him to talk about it. Percy knew about Annabeth's bad experiences with stepparents, and she knew about his.
"And you're feeling…okay? About it?"
That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? He didn't want to answer it because Percy really didn't know.
Paul seemed nice. He was pretty sure that Paul was nice. He pushed the little voice to the back of his head that said people can pretend because his Mom wouldn't have chosen him if he weren't. And he made her happy. When Paul was round, Percy had never heard his mom talk so much. About her interests and what she thought about things. She smiled now, all the time, and she got to go places and share things she was interested in.
But it still seemed like too much, too fast. His mom had spent years, desperate to be independent and to have total control over her own life. And now, when she had it, and she was safe, she was just going to give it up again? Maybe there was something that Percy was missing, that he didn't have the life experience or the wisdom to understand yet. Probably love. Having met Aphrodite, he was pretty sure that love didn't make any sense at all.
So, Percy was nice to Paul. He even kind of liked him. Yes, he tried a little hard to be cool, but he was laid back and he didn't push Percy, or his mom too hard. He always tried to let them set the pace of things.
But he didn't think he'd ever trust him. Not entirely.
And he'd thought about telling that to his mom. She'd asked him earlier that day when they were getting the box, how she felt about him moving in.
He and his mom trusted each other. If he'd said something, then his mom wouldn't move in with Paul. Maybe she'd even stop seeing him.
But next week Percy would be fifteen. A year until he was sixteen, and the prophesy came and something terrible happened. Or maybe it wouldn't. Or maybe he wouldn't even live that long. Who knew? His life was dangerous.
If the worst did happen, he didn't want his mom to be lonely.
'Percy?'
Grover's voice was full of concern. Percy realised that he'd been quiet for a while now, ever since Grover had asked him the question. Annabeth had moved closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and rubbing slow circles with her thumb. It was a comforting gesture, which promptly placed Annabeth back on top of the list of things on his mind right now, which was an improvement but still something that should, one-hundred-percent not be one of his top priorities.
'It's fine. I'm fine with it.'
'You are?' Grover might have had an empathy link, but it was nothing compared to Annabeth's bull crap detector. That didn't matter. If he could be fine by force of will alone, then he would be.
'Positive. So, could we maybe psychoanalyse me after we work out what to do with Medusa's head?'
-o-O-o-
Forty five minutes and most of a bag of Doritos later, they were no further forward.
"Are you sure we can't just burn it?"
"For the last time Percy. Where? We can't do it here, so we'd have to take it to the woods or something. "
He had to admit, she had a point. This would be a stupid reason for his mom to lose her security deposit, and he wasn't sure how he felt about taking the subway with a severed murder-head.
"Good point. how would we even do that? And if we destroy it, does that mean medusa will reform faster? Like, if she has all her parts in Tartarus with her?"
Annabeth opened his mouth as if to correct him, then closed it again. She didn't know either. Everyone knew that monsters reformed. No one really knew how. She huffed out of her nose and muttered Seaweed brain under his breath for good measure.
'Show her own face in a mirror? Turn her to stone?'
'Nice thinking, G-man, the petrifying-thing doesn't work in reflections, remember?'
Grover shuddered, "Urgh, I remember." He rubbed his temples, "I hate to say it Percy, but you're going to have to call Camp about it."
"Noooo." Percy groaned, laying his head on the table.
"Well you will! Why didn't you hand this in three years ago? All actively dangerous spoils of war are meant to go into the Attic with the oracle. Mr D will have my goat if he thinks that I knew about this and didn't say anything about it."
Annabeth snorted. "Bold of you to assume that he cares that much."
Percy was inclined to agree, but then he remembered him after the Battle of the Labyrinth, Mourning for his son and healing Chris Rodriguez. Dionysus saw, and felt, more than he let on. But before he could think of anything to say Annabeth kept talking.
"But Chiron would. I mean he's got to know. He'd have put two and two together when your mom sold that statue. But you'll probably get in trouble for hiding it for this long.'
'Plus, I'm not sure I even trust it in the attic. Imagine if one of Kronos' followers started poking around? Or some dumb kid just goes exploring. They'd just have to destroy it anyway. Besides, you've got to fill out the forms for filing it yourself, and it takes forever."
He couldn't argue there. He wasn't a fan of dishwashing duty at camp, and he'd heard horror stories about that paperwork that would make a dyslexic weep.
"OH!" she suddenly blurted out.
The other two looked at her expectantly. 'What?'
"Maybe the Stolls or someone in the Hermes cabin could find a buyer for it? I mean if your mom used it, maybe there's other women out there who could do it too.'
That appealed to Percy, but before he could mull it over, Grover insisted on being the voice of reason.
"Annabeth, even with good intentions, NO. That's super unethical." His voice had taken on that bleating tone it got when he was agitated. "You wouldn't trust it in the big house, but you'd give it to Travis and Connor? No! Just…No.
"Urgh, OK!" Annabeth held up her hands as if she was surrendering. 'I guess this is what you get for being impertinent.'
Percy was confused for a second, until he remembered the conversation that they'd had three years ago, when the head had first entered their hands.
They was silent for a beat, until Grover snorted. Annabeth put her head in her hands, and her shoulders started to shake, and eventually even Percy was fighting a smile. The laughter started slow, but then it grew and grew until it filled up the room entirely. That's how his mom had found them when she came in with Chinese takeout.
Grover bleating and holding onto his stomach, and Annabeth had wound up sort of slumped, resting her head on Percy's shoulder while as she laughed. Her curly hair sort of tickled his nose, but he wasn't going to tell to move. The three of them sat there for who knows how long, in stitches over a decapitated head in a box.
Demigod life was kind of terrible, but sometimes it was so weird that it was funny. Traumatic. But really funny.
Just a fun oneshot, in these trying times. It was originally a scene from my multi-chapter fic (which I strongly recommend you all check out) but there wasn't really a place for it. Instead I added an extra thousand words and unleashed it unto the world! Enjoy