Thumbelina

Part Two: Sprout

"What is it?" The spider hissed, drawing its face closer to Percy's.

If Percy weren't so terrified, his heart hammering painfully in his chest, he would be offended. Again. Honestly, that was twice on the same day something didn't know what he was. As it were, Percy figured there were more important things to worry about at the moment, like the terrifying, large spider that wanted to eat him.

He swallowed as the spider's fangs brushed against the side of his face, willing himself to stop trembling.

"Not very tasty," he valiantly tried, very careful not to turn his face least its fangs cut him. "Seriously, I'm gross. All chewy and sour and very lacking in nutrition. Honestly, for your own good you should probably cut me loose."

The spider hissed, its many legs tapping the web around Percy's trapped body. He tried not to shudder, know that would only entangle him deeper in the deadly web.

"Not a butterfly," the spider mused, one of its legs sharply whacking against his side. Percy yelped as the little hairs on the leg poke his side, not expecting them to be so sharp and deadly.

"Not a fly or a bug either," the spider continued, talking to itself as it examined him, shuffling to the side as though trying to get a better look at him.

"I'm a hassle," Percy tried again, discreetly trying to move his hands from where they were pinned behind his back. Maybe the bark-knife was still within his reach. "And this is just a big misunderstanding, so why don't we just—"

"Loud thing isn't it?" The spider muttered, pulling back so he was once more under the severe and frankly horrifying gaze of all eight eyes. They blinked irregularly, not all at once in a grotesque, out of sync display as the spider thought. "But it has very pretty markings, black and green, hm yes very pretty."

"What?" Percy asked, halting his search to gape, horrified, up at the spider. "I'm not a spider either!"

"No I eat spiders," the spider muttered to Percy's growing horror. Oh god, what kind of web did they unwittingly stumble upon? "Nasty cocky things. Think they weave better than me. Ha. No, Arachne is the best weaver of all time. Don't need a stupid mate either. Terrible things, noisy and greedy and disturb web. Don't eat them though, leave them for the babies."

"Babies?" Percy repeated in horror.

"Not right season now," came the muttered response. The spider seemed deep in thought, staring at Percy.

Percy swallowed nervously, unnerved by the unwavering attention, "So, ah . . . is your name Arachne?"

"Yes," Arachne said shortly. "I am Arachne, best weaver in all the world, and I will keep you." Percy sputtered in horror and disbelief but the spider kept talking as she pulled back, three of her legs making quick work of untying Percy from her web. "Yes. Good mate you will make. Very pretty. My web is the most beautiful web in all the world and it deserves to be adorned with pretty things. And you cannot weave, so you will not disturb my beautiful web. Yes, it is decided."

"Oh god, can't you just threaten to eat me?" Percy complained, which may have been a dangerous thing to say seeing as her long, spindling legs were very close to all his vital organs but frankly that was better than what the spider was suggesting.

"Be grateful," the spider scolded, one leg reaching out to sharply tap him on the nose. Percy couldn't help recoiling, startled. "Not only am I letting you live, I'm letting you stay with me on my beautiful web."

"Oh yes very grateful," Percy muttered underneath his breath.

"There," Arachne said as she cut one last strand of webbing, shuffling back so Percy could finish detaching himself from the web. Percy happily tore the tattered remains of the web off his body, watching as they lazily floated down towards the water below.

Trying to be discreet, Percy peered around the spider at the branch below. He could see the colorful spirals of Psyche's wings and his heart soared with relief. The butterfly landed on the branch! She was safe! As if sensing his gaze, Psyche turned, her left wing still firmly glued shut by webbing. She looked pained and frightened.

I'm okay, Percy wanted to say, but he didn't dare bring Arachne's attention back to the butterfly. Instead, he pointedly looked away, forcing himself to face Arachne again. The spider looked quite smug with herself.

"Ah," Percy said rather lost. "Well, I'm Percy."

"I shall call you Pretty One."

Percy scowled. "I have a name, I literally just told you it. I'm Percy."

"Quiet Pretty One," Arachne dismissed, shuffling around. "I need to fix the web. Stupid butterfly broke it. My poor, beautiful design."

The spider hissed unhappily, reaching one leg forward to push Percy aside. Percy hastily backed up, not wanting to be subjected to that again, but in his haste, his legs became entangled with the webbing behind him and he flailed a little, panicking.

"Ahh," Arachne hissed in displeasure, darting forward. "Stop that, you're tearing the web, stupid Pretty One."

"Percy."

Percy recoiled as Arachne whipped around and, a second later, gross sticky webbing was suddenly covering his mouth. He reared back in alarm, making muffled noises of outrage as he tried to pry it off his face. Arachne hissed, lightning fast snatching him up in two of her long legs and spinning him around and around while he flailed. Just as quickly, she sat him back down on the web and he could only blink up at her.

She tied him up! And gagged him!

Percy furiously wiggled around, trying to break free as he continued to make angry, muffled noises.

"The Pretty Ones are always stupid," Arachne muttered in disgust, turning around and leaving him, how dare she!

Percy flailed some more but his legs were firmly wrapped together, his arms squished against his side and thoroughly contained by the gross, sticky webbing. That didn't stop him from trying to break free, though. Percy wiggled and shook and screamed against his restraints . . . It didn't do him much good. He only careened to the side, wiggling angrily as he stuck horizontally to the web.

Finally, after a couple minutes of intense struggling and muffled profanities, Percy slumped against the web, exhausted. He narrowed his eyes and angrily glared at the spider, who paid him no mind. Arachne returned to the spot where Psyche and Percy were caught, humming to herself as she began to re-spin her web. Percy could hear her muttering under her breath;

"One loop here, another there, tied around the end—oh yes that looks nice—loop around, one more strand, here we go, oh yes what a beautiful web you will be."

Percy huffed against his gag, rolling his eyes. Please. It looked like an average web to him. Hardly a work of art by any means. Letting the thought go, Percy peeked back down at Psyche. To his surprise, she wasn't alone. A second butterfly perched itself next to her. Almost impossibly, this butterfly had even more colors on its wings, colors Percy could hardly even comprehend, in increasingly complex and intricate patterns.

Percy blinked, a little enthralled before shaking his head. As dazzling and exciting as the patterns were, looking again, Percy thought he rather preferred Psyche's markings. There was beauty in her simplicity . . . and it didn't give him a headache. The second butterfly was trying to free Psyche's caught wing, although it didn't look like it was having much success. Psyche herself was looking up at Percy, visibly anxious and concerned.

Percy tried to make his face as reassuring as possible, which was kind of hard to do when you had a gag over your mouth and were tightly wrapped up.

The second butterfly couldn't free Psyche. It changed tactics, instead nudging Psyche towards the end of the branch. It wanted her to fly, Percy realized. To get her somewhere safe where they could find something to cut her free with. Psyche resisted, desperately motioning towards Percy. The other butterfly peered up, obviously anxious to leave and unsympathetic to Percy's plight.

"Nasty butterflies, still sulking around," Arachne hissed suddenly and Percy's eyes widened in panic.

The spider spot a spindle of webbing down at the two butterflies and they scattered in alarm.

"Make you a tasty treat I will," Arachne threatened as she scampered down the thin line of web, "for ruining my perfect web."

The strange butterfly pushed Psyche off the edge, frantically flying under her to keep her afloat as it pushed her to escape. Arachne made it to the branch just as the pair were out of reach, Psyche crying out Percy's name.

"Just come on back," Arachne shouted after them, legs angrily stomping on the branch. "I'll make butterfly soup out of you yet! Fly away you cowards!"

Percy's heart sank as the butterflies made their uneven flight out of sight, the intricate butterfly supporting Psyche as they made their escape. He could have sworn he hear Psyche promising to return, but maybe that was just the wind and his overactive imagination. Arachne grumbled some more, muttering darkly under her breath as her back legs grabbed hold of the string and began climbing back up. She did it entirely backwards, facing the direction the butterflies disappeared off into as she moved back towards the web. It was rather impressive actually and it did not bode well for Percy.

The sun was starting to set, that great golden orb taking cover behind the rich foliage of the forest as it sank out of sight. Percy watched the river as it was cast in stunning shades of honeyed gold, thick and rolling with every ripple of the water.

Sally would be getting ready for bed about now, checking on the chicken one more time. Would she still be looking for him? Checking the bushes and the trees and the crack behind the sink where he sometimes inadvertently fell?

As the light faded and the river turned ashen, for the first time in his life, Percy felt truly alone.

Arachne worked through the night. She sung to herself, a soft, eerie melody that was haunting enough to keep Percy from sleeping. Instead, through half lidden eyes, Percy watched the spider re-spin her web around his spot. It was hard to distinguish her from the gloom of the night, a careful flurry of movement that weaved back and forth, a stretch of legs and the slow bobbing of her enlarged abdomen as she worked. It wasn't until the dawn starting to break that Arachne paused, her creepy eight eyes turning to the east.

She turned and crawled back towards Percy, her legs expertly navigating through the web. Percy watched with apprehension as she drew closer. What did she want? Did she change her mind? What if she didn't change her mind?

"Sleep time," Arachne hissed and Percy's eyes widened, wondering if that was a euphemism (for death or something worse he wasn't sure which scared him more).

She opened her horrible mouth and grabbed the edge of the webbing around him. For a glorious moment, he thought she was setting him free but, wait, no, she was just dragging him. Percy protested against the gag in his mouth, wiggling around the best he could in his limited mobility to show the spider the full extent of his displeasure with the situation. Arachne paid him no mind, humming under her breath as she dragged Percy to the edge of her web.

"There we go," Arachne said when they reached the very top edge of the web.

The spot was dark and cool, tucked away under the privacy of dark bark of the tree. Arachne tossed Percy into the corner where he writhed in outrage, his muffled shouts utterly ignored by the spider.

"Quiet Pretty One," Arachne said distracted as she spun a little cocoon and probed at it with her legs. "We sleep until prey come."

Percy made an angry hum that went ignored once more. Arachne pulled her legs in under her body, resting on the cocoon she spun, facing him. Eight eyes gleamed as they silently watched him. Percy squirmed, intensely uncomfortable.

"Pretty," Arachne repeated. "Good choice."

Then her eyes closed and she spoke no more. Percy watched as the spider drifted off into sleep, breathing evenly with her mouth half open, sharp fangs visible even in the darkness. Oh boy. What a mess, Percy thought in disgust. Well, he escaped the crazy toads, he could escape a crazy spider, right?

Right, he thought firmly. How hard could it be?

The bark-knife was gone, lost in his interrupted jump or when Arachne wrapped him up, who knew? Percy arched his back, trying to pull his hands free. The stupid webbing was so sticky though! He needed the sun to dry it out. Percy stared out at the spider web, the thin strands almost invisible in the rising sunlight. Or, he thought, heart sinking, maybe not. Could the webbing even dry out? God, he knew nothing about spiders. Sally always made sure to keep the house free from any webs and their cruel weavers.

Percy let his head lean against the bark of the tree, his eyes heavy. He was so tired, Arachne kept him up all night. He blinked wearily, his bleary vision trying to focus on the sleeping spider. Would it be safe to sleep? She hadn't eaten him yet . . . maybe just for a moment, it would be okay . . .

A blood curling scream jerked Percy awake what felt like seconds later. Percy's heart rate skyrocketed, his body convulsing as he violently pushed himself upright, eyes wide, adrenaline spiking, feet ready to kick out and protect himself—

He wasn't being attacked.

Percy gasped desperately for breath through his nose, his mouth still firmly webbed shut. He was okay? He wasn't being attacked? Percy's eyes darted around, trying to figure out where the threat was and who was in danger.

Arachne wasn't sleeping beside him anymore. Percy's horrified eyes instead found her in the middle of the web, her legs spinning rapidly as she bound a struggling creature up in her cruel webbing.

Let it go! Percy tried to shout, struggling against his bonds. Don't hurt it!

The spider couldn't hear him, cheerfully finishing her cruel capture. Legs expertly poked at the bundled creature, which trembled as Percy watched with horrified eyes. Arachne was humming as she crawled back to him, dragging the webbed creature behind her.

"Dinner, Pretty One," she happily announced, tossing the creature next to him.

Percy stared at the creature. It was a fly, trying to buzz lose. Its struggles were slowing down, large eyes growing visibly heavy.

No, no! Percy wanted to cry, renewing his struggles to get free.

"Oh, mouth yes," Arachne said, sounding like she was speaking mostly to herself. She leaned forward and with a swipe of one of her legs, the webbing around his mouth came free.

"Let it go!" Percy shouted, taking in great gasps of air. The spider froze, eyes blinking in confusion. One leg rested on the unfortunate fly, idly rocking the trapped creature back and forth.

"No like flies?"

"I don't like flies," Percy said firmly, shaking his head vigorously. "Gross, yucky. Just let it go."

"Ugh, picky eater," Arachne said disapprovingly, making an irritated clicking noise. "You will learn to like flies."

She leaned forward, mouth wide, her fangs ready to pierce the fly's body and Percy blurted out desperately, "No! I'm a, ah, vegetarian!"

"A what?" Arachne repeated, sounding both annoyed and begrudgingly curious as she paused, fangs just above the fly's heavy body.

"A vegetarian! I don't eat, ah, I only eat plants. No flies, no bugs, nothing but leaves and stuff."

"Oh you're one of those," Arachne said in disgust, making that clicking noise again. "Well, you will eat flies or you will starve. I won't have real stupid Pretty One. Little stupid I will tolerate, not real stupid."

"Don't!" Percy shouted as she lurched towards the fly.

He threw himself forward and in his desperation (plus his night full of struggling probably) finally managed to tear his arms free from their cocoon. He yanked the fly out of Arachne's path and the spider did a face plant in her own web. Knowing he only a few seconds, Percy tore at the webbing around the fly, clawing around its wings so the poor creature could escape.

"Go, go!" Percy urged, webbing sticking to his fingers as he tore the fly loose.

"Thank you, thank you," the fly repeated reverently as it beat its wings, tearing the remaining strands of webbing as it shook itself free and took off into the sky, buzzing away to freedom.

"No!" Arachne snarled but by the time she had recovered herself, the fly was gone.

She scrambled up the trunk of the tree, as if she could catch the frantically retreating fly. She couldn't, even though she sprinted up the tree with frightening speed. Percy watched as she froze, perched on the end of a branch some feet above his head. Welllll, this looks like a good time to make my escape, Percy thought as he watched the outraged spider. Jittery with anxiety, he leaned down and began frantically pulling at the thick webbing around his legs.

"Oh come on, come on," Percy muttered feverously as his already sticky fingers struggled to tear at the material. To his dismay, they stuck together, the webbing clumping together between his fingers and gluing them together.

"You!"

Percy didn't have any time to react as Arachne was suddenly dangling upside down before him, all eight legs wrapped around the single string that held her weight.

"Me," Percy confirmed weakly, trying for an innocent 'I've done nothing wrong' sort of vibe.

"That was breakfast," the spider snarled, still managing to look terrifying even upside down.

"Really? I mean, it was kind of a small fly and there are two of us so wouldn't it have been more like a light snack?"

Arachne hissed, her fangs dripping with what he dearly hoped was only saliva. He gave a weak smile as she drew closer to him.

"I'm sure we'll catch another one," he tried in what he hoped was a supportive tone.

Arachne seemed to be hard in thought. "You tried to set the nasty butterfly free."

"Ah—" Percy stalled, trying to come up with a good explanation. "No I didn't?"

Arachne hissed louder this time, drawing herself so close to Percy's face he could smell her gross fly breath and all eight eyes filled his vision.

"Pretty One thinks I'm stupid."

"No, no!" Percy said, all the while thinking oh dear lord please let her be stupid, "What you? With, ah, with your beautiful web and, ah—"

"I think you're more trouble than your worth," Arachne hissed, her dark mouth widening.

Percy perked up, "Oh, you're letting me go?"

"No," Arachne huffed, "I'm going to eat you instead."

Percy let out a very unbecoming sort of yelp as she lurched forward, fangs aiming straight for his throat. Maybe she had forgotten about his arms, or maybe she really was stupid, but, without thinking, Percy reached forward and pushed. The spider, suspended by her thin but strong strand of webbing, swung backward, away from Percy.

The son of Sally took this as his chance and dove under the swinging spider, and ran for his tiny little life.

"Stupid, bad Pretty One!" Arachne snarled and Percy knew he had only seconds.

He had seen her shoot out her dangerous, strong webbing and knew how quick she could be. He didn't know what to do. He didn't have any time. Not giving himself time to think, not that he really had any, he threw himself over the edge of the web with nothing more than the vague idea of landing on the branch like Psyche did. Arachne's cries followed him over the edge but they had nothing on the sound that tore from his own throat. Percy fell through the air, limbs flailing, and the sensation was a thousand times more terrifying than when he fell from Psyche's back.

He missed the branch. He hadn't even thrown himself off anywhere near the branch. Percy watched in horror, feeling utterly disconnected from his body as he watched the branch and the spider web and Arachne herself grow smaller and smaller, the rush of water growing louder and louder in his ears.

He only had time for a rather stunned, I'm sorry Mom, before he hit the water.

The first thing he was aware of was the cold. He knew, in theory, that natural water tended to be cold. Rain was cold, but Sally never let him stay out in it, for fear of him washing away or drowning in a puddle. But whenever Percy took a bath Sally would fill a small bowl with heated water from their fire for him. That was nothing like the river. Percy felt like he was being stabbed a thousand times over, razor sharp icy talons slicing him apart. Without thinking, his lips parted in a gasp and then he was gagging, choking, arms clawing at the cruel, cold water.

He broke the surface, coughing harshly against the frigid water in his lungs. Half a gasp of equally frigid air was all he managed before the river forcibly tugged him back under. The force of the current knocked him head over heels, body tumbling boneless through the black water. He kicked as hard as he could, twisting his body around, arms clawing but he didn't know which way was up or which was down anymore. His lungs burned, his head felt funny. He crashed against something and it hurt, but it was slimy and oh god what was that?

Percy gasped, his lungs expanding and greedily taking in great gulps of air. His vision was blurry and spotted, the world bobbed up and down, up and down, up and down—

The ground was solid. Well, solid-ish, Percy groggily amended as it gave way under him as he twitched, coughing up a great lungful of water. He tried to pry his heavy eyes open, only managing to crack one open a sliver. Dirt. Oh. That made sense . . . sort of. Percy tried to turn his head, but his body felt like lead and every moment seemed indefinitely difficult. He could see something out of the corner of his eye, something long and silver, a strange creature he'd never seen before. Percy gave a weak cough.

Dirt.

Oh. That made sense . . . sort of. Percy tried to turn his head, but his body felt like lead and every moment seemed indefinitely difficult. He could see something out of the corner of his eye, something long and silver, a strange creature he'd never seen before. Percy gave a weak cough.

"T-thank—" he tried to say, certain that this creature was the only reason he was alive. But the rest of the word didn't come, his vision spinning sickeningly and darkness over took him.

When he woke, it was dark. Not dark like the midnight sort of darkness, when he was tucked in bed on the window ceil in Sally's room because the light from the moon and stars were still visible even through the homemade blinds that covered the window. Nor was it like the time he got stuck behind the stove because even then slivers of sunlight squeezed their way through the cracks to reach him. No, this was a different kind of darkness . . . this was genuine, total darkness. Percy stared into the lightless void, not quite comprehending. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, slowly counting backwards from ten.

When he reached one, he opened them again . . . and was surrounded by the same soul-crushing darkness. Percy groped blindly, reaching for his eyes. Ouch, he grimaced as he accidently poked himself in the eye. Okay, so his eyes were open at least. Maybe something was wrong with them? Percy pushed away the bubble of panic that emerged at the thought. No, no he wasn't blind he hadn't gone blind maybe—maybe he'd just bumped his head! Yeah, that was probably it. Knowing he had to do something least he drive himself mad, Percy pushed himself upright . . . and whatever he was on squeaked. Percy paused, splaying his fingers out at his side. Soft. Blankets?

He was on a bed! Was he home, did Sally find him? Percy opened his mouth to excitedly call out but froze at the deep inhale. That . . . that didn't smell like home. That smelled like dirt and dampness and gross things left to fester.

He wasn't home. His mother's name died on his lips, voice catching in his throat. His heart plummeted.

Oh.

Percy blinked.

Oh.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, he told himself firmly, shaking his head. That's not going to get you home to Mom any faster.

Feeling determined, Percy swung his feet around so they landed on the damp floor. He pushed himself to his feet, only to sway dangerously. He coughed, then sneezed, then coughed again until he was back on the bed, coughing and hacking up a lung. It was a sick, wet, rattling sort of cough that brought tears to his eyes as Percy gagged and gasped for air. He curled into himself, head pressed against his clammy knees as he tried to stop the loud, harsh noises tearing from his throat. Through the attack, he became vaguely aware of a new sound, almost like the shuffling of feet.

There was something, someone down here with him.

The noise grew louder and louder and, if Percy wasn't mistaken, it grew closer. Percy floundered in the darkness, chest seizing as he fought back the urge to cough, uncurling his body. His fingers urgently searching for something, anything, that could be used to protect himself. He tumbled out of the bed, his knees painfully hitting the floor and he let out an 'hmph' that was quite unwelcomely followed by another coughing bout.

No, stop that, he commanded his body but it rebelled against him and he continued to cough as he pushed himself upright. His body felt weak and shaky, his chest especially ached, but he was a little more preoccupied with the strange shuffling sound of whatever was drawing nearer. The ground felt funny, kind of cold and damp, as his palms ran across it, searching. There were a few cracks in the ground, too small for even his pinky finger to fit into so he ignored them in favor of turning his attention to the area around the bed.

He had just bumped into something large and hard (a dresser maybe?) when the voice came;

"Ah, finally awake I see."

Percy jerked around, eyes frantically searching for the source of the voice. He was met with the same terrifying wall of darkness.

"Who are you!" He demanded angrily as he pushed himself to his feet. Then added as his head whipped from side to side, eyes uselessly searching, "Where are you?"

The voice, which was raspy and deep and so unlike anything Percy had ever heard before that it gave him a moment of pause, make a noise of disgust.

"Right," the raspy voice grumbled, sounding annoyed. Which was rude it wasn't as though Percy asked for anything of this to happen, hello, a giant ugly toad kidnapped him or he wouldn't even be in this mess.

He opened his mouth, annoyed in turn, when there was a hiss and then—

"Ah!" Percy loudly complained, throwing his arms up at the sudden spark of seemingly blinding light.

"Oh please," the raspy voice huffed. "If my sensitive eyes can adjust to the light so can yours."

"Rude," Percy complained out loud, lowering his hands and blinking hazily in the new light.

It was, in fact, not all that bright. The creature before him held a match in the end of its tail, the light flickering in the darkness. Percy blinked some more and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the new light. He was in a room, he realized. One that was eerily similar to his mom's except . . . except everything was Percy sized.

The bed, the dresser (ha, called it), the table at the end of the room with two chairs tucked into its side. They were all perfectly tailored for someone of Percy's size.

Confused, Percy turned back to his apparent host. And almost recoiled. It was a snake, but his panic reseeded as he realized the slithering serpent was none other than a begin, green garden snake. Still, the snake was a good size for its species, probably three to four times Percy's height in length. The scales were a darker green but all together, it looked like a rather normal and unnoteworthy garden snake.

"How did I get here?" Percy demanded, still recovering from his shock.

"Ungrateful brat," the snake huffed, slithering further into the room. Percy squared his shoulders and refused to back up as it came closer. "I saved your life and this is how you repay me?"

"You sav—?" Percy started to say but was interrupted by another coughing fit. He doubled over from the force of the coughs, bracing himself on his knees as he hacked and gagged, tears unwillingly filling his eyes at the force of the spell.

He vaguely thought he heard the snake grumbling and suddenly he was tumbling backward, his back hitting the mattress. He tried to protest, but was a little distracted by trying not to choke on his own spit.

"Stupid, ungrateful brat," the snake snarled. "Stay there before you kill yourself."

Percy wanted to argue but he settled for rolling onto his side and heaving instead. The snake didn't seem concerned by his hacking and he watched through watery eyes as it slithered along, setting the still flaming match in a hook on the wall before looking back at him.

"Wha—what's wrong with me?" Percy gasped, clutching at his chest.

"You fell into the river," the snake scoffed, tail twitching in agitation. "And swallowed lots of water, what do you think happened?"

Percy thought for a moment. "I'm sick?"

"A perceptive one," the snake snorted. "Give the brat a prize."

Percy scowled but the effect was somewhat lost when it was disrupted by a sneeze, then another one, then a third. "Ugh," Percy complained, running a hand over his face to try and clean away the snot and other gross stuff.

He flopped against the bed, pouting as the snake shuffled around. He was pretty sure it wasn't going to kill him or eat him or, god forbid, marry him so he was feeling marginally safer than when this entire ordeal started.

"I need to go home," he all but whined, wishing for his mother's calm and soothing voice and some of her hot soup.

"You're so sick you can barely stand," the snake all but huffed, "how exactly do you plan on going anywhere? Now shut up, I brought some medicine and food."

Percy perked up at the mention of food, eyeing the snake as it spun around, dragging a bag of what probably was the promised food (and medicine but Percy happily ignored that).

"Why are you—" achoo! —"helping me?"

"Because you might be useful," the snake snorted. "For all you seem to be stupid—" Percy tried to draw himself up in offense but his chest hurt too much and he settled for angrily curling into a ball instead—"besides, can't have you dying outside my house, god only knows what creatures you'd attract."

Percy wrinkled his nose but didn't say anything, not entirely sure what an appropriate response to that would be.

"M'fin, I'll just go home and get—" achoo! —"out of your hair."

"That doesn't make any sense," the snake sounded like it was rolling its eyes and Percy kind of thought it was frowning. "But, by all means, fine, stand up and leave."

Indignation flooded Percy's chest and he huffed.

"Fine, I will!" He stubbornly declared, pushing himself to his feet. The world kind of spun but Percy determinedly ignored it as he took a purposeful step forward . . . only to end up with his face on the floor as he coughed wetly.

"That worked out well for you," the snake cackled.

Actually cackled. Percy thought maybe he should reevaluate his earlier assessment of the snake's benevolence. Maybe it really was evil. Percy twisted his face up to scowl at the snake, who seemed to be maliciously amused at his predicament.

"I am Echidna," the snake declared, drawing itself up so half of its body swayed in the air. "The Great Mother."

"I'm feeling the loving and nurturing care," Percy grumbled into the floor. "Hi Echidna, I'm Percy."

"Percy, hm, what an odd name."

"Oh Percy is an odd name, huh Echidna?"

"That's what I said," Echidna said irritably, tossing the sack on his bed. "Here, when you stop feeling sorry for yourself there's food and medicine."

"Thanks but I need to go home."

Echidna didn't seem too concerned, lowering herself back to the floor, her body twisting and fluidly moving across the ground. "That's nice. Tell you what, if you can walk yourself to the front door, you can go home."

"I will!" Percy weakly promised before he dissolved into a rather unconvincing coughing fit. Damn his respiratory system! Stop that!

"Sure, sure," Echidna's voice hissed as the irritating and not the slightest bit nurturing serpent slithered away, leaving Percy on the ground.

Percy scowled at the dirt, sniveling quietly to himself. He pushed himself to his knees, arms trembling. He definitely was feeling the fever now, the weak and trembling muscles, the hot skin. It made him desperately wish for his mom, for her cool hand and gentle care. Stupid Echidna, stupid Arachne, stupid toads.

Stupid Percy, he thought bitterly, dragging himself up onto the bed. He flopped down, pushing his flushed face against the cool mattress. He squinted at it, the material a little blurry due the fact that, you now, his face was squished against it. It wasn't sewed together like the ones he and his mom made, rather it looked like a bunch of feathers had been woven together until they formed a bed. How's a snake weave?

At least this one calls me by my name, was Percy's last thought before he lost consciousness, unhappily drifting into a feverous and restless sleep.

A/n What is it, precious? (Any LOTR fans here?) Also, Percy's a bit of an idiot. Yes, garden snakes are harmless...to humans. Darling, you're the same size as a garden snake's usual meal. This is why we call you Seaweed Brain. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and please let me know what you thought!