Chapter 6

The two-and-a-half-weeks came and went, and with them, most of Helena's sanity. An exaggeration, but the universe clearly favored the Jacksons when it came to its preferred punching bags. The weather, for instance, horrible, worse than she'd ever seen it. The sky up above was nothing but a mass of darkness; clouds rolled ominously, with lightning flickering here and there in the background. Yancy Academy was assaulted from left to right with rain, with hail, and a variety of limbs snagged off from the trees nearby.

About three days ago, a tornado touched down about fifty miles away from their school; the biggest ever recorded in their local area. For that day, and the entire week after, the academy had its entire student body practicing weather drills day-in, day-out.

"Does this have anything to do with our father, too?" Percy had said, joking, but her eyes were serious and concerned; mostly for their mother. "I heard someone say that if we think its bad here, then we should see the city."

Helena wasn't sure how to answer her. She was worried for their mother as well. It was only a matter of time before the stores shut down due to safety concerns – sending their mother from her day-to-day twelve hours shifts at the candy store she worked at and right into the brutal arms of her husband.

Each night, she tried to sit and think about what was to come. What could Helena expect from the series? She couldn't even remember what got her brother out of this mess in the first place. Percy's birthday came and went without much fuss. It was her first birthday without their mother at her side. She cried, though the woman herself had tried to call, but the service had been awful, their mother's warm voice turned cold from static as it cut in-and-out.

"Fucking hell," Percy had sobbed later that night. "We might not even get to go to Montauk. How the fuck are we gonna do those other things? I don't want to have to worry about Gabe and his stupid, fucking opinions about everything."

Helena had taken the back-seat mentally for much of their time left at Yancy. She was focused on trying not to lose her mind – a second time. She rubbed at her sister's back, whispering sweet things, but it seemed her attempt at imitating their mother was not the wisest choice for it only led to Percy sobbing even harder into her mattress.

That same night, the two of them had gone to bed, and had woken up to the horrifying sound of their dormitory window being blown out by the storm, sending a mixture of wind, rain, and glass right at them. It could have been worse, she thought, for at least when their bodies were riddled with glass, that the rain soaking their beds would heal them of their newly-found wounds. Helena doubted Percy even noticed that she'd been healed the moment her skin was pierced by the tiny, and not-so-tiny fragments. The older girl was much too busy freaking out, intent on dragging Helena from her bed and out the door to seek safety in a room with as few windows as possible.

When morning came, it was discovered that their dormitory was the only one to have been destroyed; their beds, any books lying around, and few pieces of their wardrobe were left in ruins – unsalvageable. "Are you sure we're safe here?" Percy asked after that. "This is beginning to feel pretty targeted..."

Helena could merely shrug her shoulders, shake her head, did her best to refrain from informing Percy that's because it was targeted. "We're safer here than anywhere else at the moment." Helena was losing hope in the words she kept on repeat: the two of them would be fine, they would make it, Percy would become a hero, and Helena would be her devoted, little side-kick if that meant that her sister could live as long as she pleased to without interference from any one of the stupid gods.

Percy's friendship with Grover became awkward: the boy forced to deal with Helena's never ending scrutiny, and the fact he'd manage to lose his so-called best friend's trust. Unfortunately, Percy was a social creature by nature and often longed for company. Helena didn't doubt that her sister was already well on her way to forgiving Grover for lying about Dodds – if she already by now.

That is, until, about five days the two were set to leave for Manhattan. She came flying through the door of their new dormitory, carrying a book on Greek Mythology. Helena narrowed her eyes at it. "That's mine, isn't it?"

Percy rolled her eyes. "Yes, but that's not the point! I was using it to…to…to spy on Brunner!" She admitted, a sly look dashing from one end of her face to the other.

"What!" Helena lurched from her bed – it wasn't anything like her old one, thus she hated it. It smelled like the fake citrus scent people were convinced made their homes smell fantastic after a long day of scrubbing floors. She didn't understand why people wished to be reminded that all they did was clean, but it was whatever. Helena would manage, which she did. "You tried to spy on Brunner? Are you crazy?"

"Yes." Percy agreed without hesitation. "But, you're not gonna believe this, but I didn't even have to go into his office. He and Grover were speaking so loud that I could hear them out in the hall. I don't think they're too good at this…this spy business or whatever they're here for."

She gave Helena a pointed look as the younger of the two opened her mouth to no doubt give Percy a lecture, but Percy held up a finger, pressed it against her lips, then shushed her. Helena furrowed her brow, then scoffed; mildly offended. "The two of them were talking about us. Grover was worried, kept mentioning 'the kindly ones' and how one was in the school. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that maybe he was talking about Dodds, but there was nothing kind about her, so that I don't get."

Helena loathed to admit it, but she was half-impressed while she watched her sister pace back-and-forth, having clearly figured a somewhat critical piece of information without any outside help. If not all that important, then at least confirmation that Grover and Brunner were working together; both of them having lied and tried to convince Percy that she was delusional.

"Grover implied that there was someone else, outside of here, after us. I don't think he wants us alone on spring break, but Brunner insisted that he not say anything, that he didn't want to rush it. Rush what, exactly? I haven't figured that out yet. But fuck, that's not even the wildest bit of information I got-" Percy cut herself off. "What is…what is the summer solstice?"

Helena had to think about it for a second. "I'm not sure on the specifics."

"I bet it hurt to say that," Percy interjected, unable to be serious for more than a few minutes at a time. She ducked down, dodging Helena's balled up socks. "Hey, hey, that could have hurt me."

"Oh, shut up, they're just socks!"

"I know – I was talking about the smell." Percy giggled, throwing them right back. For a moment, she and Helena lost focus, deciding to instead play a round of, 'try not to get hit by whatever random objects each sister has hidden under or around their beds'.

Percy hopped on her mattress, using her feet to bounce back and forth. She winced at the slight cracking sound of the wooden frame, but, as usual, ignored it in favor of doing what she wanted. Helena was stuck on the floor, drowning beneath a pile of blankets, her legs trapped within the sheets. She kicked at the harsh cotton, the texture irritating her legs.

She missed the silky feeling of their old sheets: the sort that, outside of Yancy, neither Helena nor Percy could afford. Not that Percy spent a lot of time focusing on sheets. That girl could sleep anywhere, surrounded by anything, just as long as she had some sort of pillow to lay her head on. At long last, she managed to poke through, and inhaled a bucket's worth of fresh air down into her lungs.

"Dramatic much," Percy tutted, laughing as she hopped from side-to-side.

"You're going to break the bed!" Helena's hands went straight towards the back of her head; she'd done her hair into a long braid, leaving it to swing along her back. She pulled it over the side of her shoulder, nostrils flaring at the sight of tousled curls coiling out; at last, free from their ribbon-guarded prison. "Look at what you did!"

"It looks loads better that way!"

"Does not!" Helena sniffed, then paused. "What we were saying about the summer solstice, again?" She took another second. "Oh! I believe it's the longest day of the summer – usually in June."

"Damn." Percy exclaimed, coming to a stop. "We have something due by then. I don't know what, but Grover mentioned that we might not have enough time. Well, whatever it is, I don't want to get caught up in it. Our dad can solve his own problems. Just like we have for the past, I dunno, thirteen years!"

"I wish it were that easy…" Helena trailed off.

Percy groaned. "I wish you could just tell me – is it, it is it space related by chance?"

"Our father is not apart of the men-in-black and, again, the government isn't out to destroy us for fear of having their juicy, alien-related secrets exposed by a pair of middle-schoolers." Helena drawled, repeating herself, as she had been for the last two, miserable weeks.

"I wish I could trust Grover again. Life feels boring without him in our circle, doesn't it?" Percy blurted out, bouncing down onto her behind. She swung her legs out, attempting to touch Helena with her bare feet.

Helena swatted at them, scrambling away. "I can't say I feel the same," she declared. "Grover isn't trustworthy enough to keep our secrets, but maybe we can trust him enough to be your friend."

"What's the point in having friends if you can't trust them with your secrets?" Percy murmured – well, murmured as best as she could. There was something bittersweet in her expression. Good intentions or not, Helena doubted she'd ever come to like Grover as much as Percy did.

"Considering how your track record is beginning to look, I think maybe it's time reconsider lowering your standards for friends. If nothing else, at least find one that makes you laugh." She advised, meaning it.

Percy huffed. "And who does that for you?"

"Does what?"

"Makes you laugh." Percy clarified. "I've been your sister for nearly twelve years, Nelly, and in all that time, I don't think you've ever had a friend. Not one you can trust, and definitely not one that's made you laugh."

Helena winced, then said. "You do – and that's enough for me."

"That wasn't nice," Percy acknowledged, her face gone soft. "I'm sorry." Helena couldn't deny that the words hurt more than she let on. At times, Percy could be annoyingly insightful when it comes to these sorts of things. She nodded, unable to openly accept her sister's apology. Being honest was not a crime, hence there was nothing to forgive.

Not that it mattered too much in the long run, as Percy seemed to have taken Helena's words to heart. She was back to being a bit more open with Grover, the latter of whom seemed to be a tad relieved at the so-called "recovery" of their friendship. This time, Helena felt the slightest prick of jealousy in her heart. Did she acknowledge it? Not really, because that would mean having to acknowledge that her sister's own words had effected Helena more than the younger girl would have liked. And to admit that would be to admit that Helena was…well, that she was…She was lonely.

Their last night at Yancy Academy soon came and Percy's light snores filled the air, Helena did the unthinkable and seated herself at their desk, looking out through the window and the storm raging outside. She traced a finger across the window, drawing a picture of a trident within the condensation. To be frank, she couldn't imagine her mother agreeing to a trip to Montauk in this gods-awful weather.

Helena bit into the skin of her lips, tearing into the flesh, feeling the blood rush to the surface. She swiped at it with her thumb, looking at the red smear across the skin. Maybe, just maybe, if she looked hard enough she could see traces of the infamous golden ichor – the blood of her father and his father before him. She was feeling vulnerable tonight in the way most normal people felt vulnerable at night; a rarity (so rare that she considered this the first) for her and one she was more than eager to blame on puberty.

An idea filled her head – a stupid one, so stupid that Percy should have been the one to think it up. Half of her loathed it, the other have needed for it to mean something. She spread her hands out before her, nails digging into the grainy wooden texture. Lightning crackled across the skies. She watched as her trident faded into the moisture, as if it'd never been there in the first place.

Helena clasped her hands together, drawing them up into a vertical angle with her two palms facing towards each other. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Helena glanced at Percy, who could have been dead to the world and Helena doubted she'd be able to tell the difference. She'd thought about it occasionally, praying to her father, but she never managed to muster up the courage: it was an intimacy she'd never granted anyone before.

"D-Dad?" Helena whispered, stumbling over the word. Her cheeks burned – he certainly heard that, that was the big problem with having a deity for a father. Prayer was a pretty big thing for them. "It's me, Nelly…I-I don't think we've met, but there's a first for everything."

Helena felt like she was five; considering how old her father was, she might as well be. "I doubt I need to clarify, but, I'm the daughter you had after Percy. A lot of people get that mixed up. You'd understand if you ever met her…I'm sure you will one day, if that means anything. Maybe it doesn't, but, I'm sure when Percy does figure it out, she'll be rambling in your ear every other night. A part of me can't wait, because that means she'll stop doing it to me all the time." Helena joked, but felt foolish the moment the words left her mouth.

"Sorry…I know you're probably too busy to hear these sorts of things, but I figured I'd try anyways. I've never – I've never reached out to you for anything, though I've had it figured out for a while – Mom wrote about you in her diary! You can't tell her I told you that, but it's true." And it was. Sally Jackson had a teeny, tiny, super secret box of mementos from the year she first met their father. She kept most of it stashed away in a copy of the bible, which Gabe wouldn't ever open for himself, but wouldn't exactly cover it cigarette marks like he did everything else in their house.

Helena exhaled softly, trying to calm her nerves. "But, I'm here to ask for a favor. It's probably a bit too big, and maybe a little beyond your jurisdiction, but I figured I'd ask regardless. We were supposed to go to Montauk this week. Mom has a cabin there – we haven't been in years, but this year has been rough. For a lot of reasons, several of them you've probably already heard about. It's just – the weather has been really, really bad. It doesn't even need to be for long; a few days at most, really. But, I understand if it's not possible. I promise I won't hold it against you or anything! I understand how annoying and difficult siblings can be..."

A hesitant smile drew up across Helena's face. "I don't know how to end this," she admitted, faltering a bit. "I think I'll just stop talking, but thanks for listening – and even if didn't or had better things to do – I don't mind. Goodnight, then!"

Helena pressed her hands up against her face, for she could truly, genuinely feel the burning sensation there. Praying to her father was perhaps the most embarrassing thing she'd ever done in her life. And over Montauk, of all things! Helena wished she could remember what her father was supposed to be like; she was certain he wasn't awful, or rather, he'd not been when their mother and he first met. She hoped with everything she had that he was ended up being more like Percy than he did Helena.

Their mother was no help when it came to asking about him. She'd sigh, and then insist that their father could have given birth to them with how similar the three were. Helena, of course, couldn't fathom it. How complicated must the man be? Helena huffed, then fled to to her bed, intent on burying her face into the cold side of her pillow. She did exactly that, and fell asleep within moments.

Tucked away in the other bed, Percy stopped pretending to sleep. She opened her eyes, glanced at her sister, then looked up at their ceiling in confused wonder. Her sleeping pretense became a bit more real after that. Unbeknownst to the both of them, there in the corner of the room, a hidden entity traced a trident into the condensation, fingers following a familiar path.