Outcast
A PJO fanfic
Chapter Two: Reunions
What the fuck is Chiron doing here? A flare of anger ignites inside me, and I nearly instinctively reach for the gun I took from Marcus. He raises his hand, and points to a girl sitting a couple of tables away from me. Clarisse La Rue glares at me, and I glare back. Clarisse and I had never actively hated each other, but I'm not exactly popular with Camp Half-Blood. I might be able to take her, but it'd kill me. I dutifully take a seat, taking my hand out of my jacket.
"Do you want a drink, or a bite to eat?" Chiron asks pleasantly, a thin smile on his lips.
"Cut the crap Chiron, what the fuck do you want?" I ignore the question purposefully. I don't want to seem friendly to Chiron, hell, he was the one that got me banished. His eyebrows frown for a second in anger, before the pleasant nature returns.
"I forgot your colourful language, and your attitude." He mutters, Clarisse remaining silent. "Anyway, that's not what I came here to say." Chiron smiles pleasantly, sipping the cup of coffee he ordered before I came. His face wrinkles in distaste. "We need your help." Clarisse comes to sit with us. I nod a greeting. She nods back, warily.
"What with?" I ask Chiron, who's face darkens.
"You might have heard, but Gaia is raising an army." Chiron begins.
"No actually, I haven't, because you know, I haven't even heard a whisper about anything godly for, hmm, is it four months?" I interrupt him with an outburst. To say I dislike Chiron is the understatement of the century. He grimaces, before looking at me sternly.
"Look," He says in a dark tone, "what happened was not my fault."
"Bullshit. You got me banished. You wanted me gone."
"Would you rather be dead?" Chiron snaps, the thin smile replaced with an iron glare. I shut up then. "As I said, Gaia is raising an army. We need to talk somewhere more secure, here isn't safe."
"What's wrong with here?" I ask. Usually New York is pretty safe, for me, and any demigod accompanying me. Don't ask why, because I don't know.
"Monsters roam the streets, looking for any demigods. There have been four attacks in the last week, one of them fatal. That's why Clarisse is here." Chiron prepares to leave, and I follow him. Clarisse is the last one out the door.
"Be lucky I'm not smashing your face in, punk." She threatens me, which is probably one of the worst things in the world a person can do.
"I'd like to see you try." I reply sarcastically. "How's Chris?" I ask her. Chris Rodriguez, Clarisse's boyfriend, was a particular soft spot for her.
"You talk about him again; I'll punch your teeth out." She snarls, slightly unsheathing a celestial bronze sword in a threatening manner. It doesn't frighten me though, and she knows it.
"You know that wouldn't end well." I grin back coldly.
"Stop bickering you two." Chiron scolds us like a teacher telling off a pupil. Clarisse shuts up after that, but I covertly flip her the bird when Chiron isn't looking.
New York is starting to wake up now, people beginning to go to work, kiss their perfect other halves goodbye, to get some perfect coffee in some perfect Starbucks with their perfect friends, then get the perfect train to their perfect workplace with their perfect colleagues. People just don't realise how good they have it. Try sleeping rough for a few months and then moan about homework in for tomorrow.
I cast a wary glance over each person we pass, watching for a disdainful look or a disgusted wrinkle of the nose. I haven't been able to wash or clean a lot, and I've been living in the same clothes for the last four months. There's a thick layer of stubble, or a thin beard, depending on how you view it. I stink like shit and there's tears, scratches, grazes and cuts all over me. My dirty blonde hair is matted and too long for my liking, and my brown eyes seem to be the only clean aspect of me.
The three of us walk down several streets, avoiding the early morning traffic and near-psychopathic drivers that go along with it. Honestly, sometimes I think that I have a better chance of getting killed by a pissed-off driver than a raging monster. New York is a nice enough place, really. Just don't walk out into the road.
New York isn't the safest of places for demigods, either. There's a few I know, and for them, monster attacks are a daily occurrence for them, since it's in the immediate area of Mount Olympus. Many monsters not killed in the Battle of Manhattan are still in the area, making it more dangerous than usual. I've even bumped into a few, on the odd occasion, and I barely make it out alive each time.
"Where are we headed?" I ask.
"Camp Half-Blood, stupid." Clarisse answers me. She's got her hand on the pommel of her sword. If Clarisse is nervous, then so am I.
"There's no such thing as stupid questions, only stupid answers." I quickly reply, with a cocky smirk.
"You really are an asshat." She glares, or at least tries to.
"No, I'm just British, you Yank wanker." She almost smiles at that one. Right now, we're in the middle of New York, just as people are starting to wake up for work, trying to get to Camp Half-Blood. So Chiron does what anyone in our situation would naturally do. He gets a godly taxi for us.
After one rather interesting and life-threateningly-fast taxi ride, we arrive outside the camp. I haven't seen the old tree, or the sign for a long time. I thought I'd never see it again. After I was banished, I was very clearly told that the gods would show no mercy to me the next time. What if Chiron's lying? What if they don't need me back? There's still time now to run. Its not exactly the Ritz, but hell, I'm surviving. The war with Gaia isn't my war. As the Clash put it aptly, should I stay or should I go?
Chiron turns to me as he crosses the border.
"Are you coming or not, Grant?" He asks, an eyebrow arched in curiosity. This is it, decision time. Do I go for redemption, or safety.
Fuck it. Not like I've got anything better to do. I step across the border, into Camp Half-Blood.
A/N: Hola. Turns out I'm still alive. I'm so incredibly sorry for the ages it took to update. I had exams and other things more pressing, as well as writers block. I quickly wrote this chapter just to update something, and prove I haven't entirely given up. So ya, for the good of destitute demigods, try posting a little review in that box below, or maybe give a follow or favourite. I hope you continue to follow Grant's story, and don't lose any faith in my updating.
Also, name change! I thought it was more fitting considering the long update times.