Okay, this chapter is pretty much the memory in Zack's PoV, but I think it's good.
Okay, I'm gonna be honest, it hasn't been the best day. Nothing really severe, just a hard work out and then our fridge stopped working and we had to pretty much move all our food downstairs to our other freezer and fridge. And my dad got frustrated and when he's frustrated it effects us all. He's a really good guy, funny, nice, a GREAT dad. Don't think I'm bitching about him, he just get really easily frustrated and mostly take sit out on himself.
And then my mom is super sarcastic and has no filter so she tends to say some things that aren't exactly beneficial.
Then my sister and I are tired from practice, trying not to flip over everything cuz we're so damn exhausted.
And so you see our dilemma.
Plus there was a recording malfunction with Bones so I missed like five minutes in the middle and I didn't just get to sit and watch it normally and...blahblahblah.
Anyhoo, I'm gonna kinda be selfish bitch and not do replies to reviews. I'm sorry. You all get TWO virtual hugs. I'm tired, have to get up early, and I kinda want to read.
I bought James Pattersons new book Confessions of A Murder Suspect. Good so far, though I can't tell yet if these are normal people or if they're suddenly going to discover super powers. He's setting it up kinda like that and, having read Maximum Ride and Witch and Wizard, I wouldn't be surprised.
You guys read those? I ranted about MR. But Witch and Wizard? Apparently another one is coming out in Feb or whatever. I thought Whit kinda fell out of importance which kinda sucked I thought, I liked him. It also got horribly depressing by the last book I thought. Good, but depressing.
Anyhoo, sorry guys. STILL REVIEW! I'LL TRY TO DO REPLIES TOMORROW!
OH! I may not be able to update on Thurs cuz I have a meet and have morning practice on Friday. So...yeah.
This chapter was more fun to write than I thought.
Song: Only Place I Call Home by Every Avenue
Disclaimer: ...
READ ON!
ZACK'S PoV
I helped Lena sit straight and felt not only my face cringe, but also my heart. I knew it hurt her a lot more than she would allow me to see. I then got her a glass of nectar and held it to her mouth.
Then I felt a stab of ice cold attack me. My eyes widened as I shivered, and so did Lena's, because she was shivering too.
What was going on?
I vaguely registered a crash as the glass hit the floor, though I don't recall letting go of it. Then my world spun and I blacked out.
When I opened my eyes, everything was blurry, like a picture out of focus. Then, like a camera lense, everything focused and cleared.
I was standing in a parking lot, turning around I recognized some kind of Carnival. I frowned. What was this? Where was I?
"Come on!" I heard a little girl say behind me. I turned. "Come on! Come on!"
I saw a small child, between the age of six and eight, pulling on her parents hands, looking back at them so I couldn't see her face. She was wearing a knee length white dress with a pink sweater. Her hair was long, dark, and wild.
The woman, assumably her mother, was about thirty-some and had blonde hair that was pulled in a ponytail. Her eyes were gray and intimidating, but they looked at her daughter affectionately.
The man, assumably the father, was probably the same age. He had the same dark hair as his daughter, which was in need of a good cut. His eyes were vaguely familiar.
The woman laughed, an affectionate sound. "Be patient."
"I don't wanna be..." the little girl struggled with the word. "Patent." She tried. "Pashant." She tried again.
This time the man laughed. "Don't worry, Dolphin. We're there."
They had indeed arrived at the entrance to the carnival. That was when the little girl turned her head and I gasped.
It was Lena.
In reality, she didn't look all the same. Perhaps it was her walk, so much more upbeat than when she's sixteen. Or the way she talks, with the slur and joy of a young child. I'm not sure.
And while those eyes were filled with glee, trust, and innocence, instead of anger, sadness, and doubt, they were still recognizably her eyes. Her beautiful green eyes, the same one as her father.
My eyes widened again as I realized I was looking at the famous Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase.
But when little Lena turned to her parents, she didn't see a hero worthy of history books, she saw two people she adored and loved. She saw her parents.
As the loving three-some entered the carnival, I followed. Lena jumped at every sight gleefully, absorbing it all with her intelligent eyes. That was one thing that made her stand out, even as a young child, those eyes understood and they saw. They didn't just glance over things, they took in every detail, storing it for future reference.
A clown walked up to her and Lena couldn't have looked more happy. In her little white dress, pink sweater, and absolute purity, she was the epitome of childhood, despite the odd circumstances.
"And who might you be?"
Somehow, even as a youth, I expected her to snarl and spit out 'Lena' or 'none of your freaking business.'
Instead, the little girl smiled wide and replied, "Silena."
For the first time I understood why Lena felt like she and Silena were two very different people. She had never directly told me she felt that way, but I could tell. And now I saw why.
When he offered her a balloon, I don't think 'Silena' could have shaken her head more vigorously. I laughed, feeling Silena's joy rub off on me.
The clown told the Jackson's what a lovely daughter they had. Annabeth, I was having difficulty not viewing her as the heroine of the tales, just smile proudly. "Thank you. We know."
After that, their evening seemed like any other thing you would see in a family movie. They played games and Percy, I was especially having difficulties not viewing him as the great hero, helped his daughter win a teddy bear. My smile widened as I saw Silena's ecstasy at the toy.
Then they ate crazy unhealthy food, laughing and smiling the entire time as they shared a giant funnel cake. After that they continued to walk mindlessly around. I followed eagerly, enjoying seeing this side of Lena/Silena.
Silena dropped her teddy bear and she ran after it, only to have a man beat her to it. He held it out to her. "Here you are, Silena."
I stiffened. He knew her.
But Silena seemed unfazed as she smiled and grabbed the bear. "Thank you." She told him politely, which was never a word I thought I'd use to describe Lena's way of speaking.
"Thank you, sir," she repeated as she yanked on the teddy bear. Tears began to fall in frustration. "Give me my teddy!"
Then Annabeth ran up and pulled her away, holding her close to her chest, out of harms way. Percy, on the other hand, had charged the man, his famous and trusty pen, Anaklusmos, uncapped and ready to fight.
That was when I realized I had seen that sword and pen before.
It was Lena's.
"Mommy! That man took my teddy bear!" Silena cried.
Annabeth just soothed her daughter's hair, looking frazzled and worried, an expression I never pictured on the brave and rational face of Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. Then I realized that she was past rationality with her daughter. No matter how irrational, she would do whatever it took to save her child, even if it cost her her life.
"I know, sweetheart," she told her daughter. "I know."
"Annabeth, get Silena out of here." Percy told his wife tersely, in a staredown with the monster.
Pain crossed Annabeth's face, another emotion I never pictured on her. When I looked at Percy's face, I say loyalty to his family, which was to be expected, but I also saw fear and...maybe a little doubt? As if he was thinking, 'will this be it? Will this be the last time I see my family?' That, too, was unexpected.
"Be careful, Percy." Annabeth told him. "I love you," she added.
Percy's face fell grave. "I love you both." He replied quietly, but meaningfully.
It hurt my heart when I realized they were saying this in fear that they may never be able to again.
Annabeth carried her daughter away swiftly.
"Bye, daddy! I'll see you in a bit!" Silena said with absolute certainty.
I had to sprint to keep up, but I was close enough to see Annabeth was struggling with tears.
It was like every image I had of these heroes was false. I had imagined them as fearless and impeccably brave, knowing of their strength. Proud. Fearless. Heroic.
I suddenly doubted the meaning of heroism, and the factuality of the tales of Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase.
Annabeth was rational, I heard, but I saw little in her eyes at that moment. Perhaps she was rational, she probably was, but when it came to her family, she was desperately grasping at any way, rational or not, to keep them safe and whole.
In Percy, I had seen the obvious loyalty. That was the one word that would always come up when discussion of him arose. He was loyal, but I hadn't until that moment realized he was really loyal until death, if need be. He was scared, too. He was brave, only when needed, but he would rather avoid conflict. I had imagined him facing every challenge head on, daring anyone or anything to take him.
But that sorrowful look in both of their eyes let you know they both knew they weren't immortal (although, Percy could have been) and weren't indestructible (although, Percy once was). They knew there was something out there better than they were. They knew that at some point, that thing would find them, or they would just slip up, because they were not perfect fighters, as everyone liked to believe. They knew of death and it's inevitability, but they were trying to keep at bay.
My guess? Solely for their daughter.
"Mommy?" Silena asked. "What's daddy doing? Is he monster fighting?"
Annabeth paused. "Yeah," she said finally. "Yeah, he is. He'll be okay though, Silena." I wondered, for a moment, if it was really Silena she was trying to reassure.
They got into a car and my head spinned again. Suddenly I was standing in a motel room with Silena and her mother. Annabeth insisted that she sleep, but Silena couldn't.
Every now and then, you would here Annabeth mumble, "It's okay. Percy's handled worse. He'll be fine."
The clock read just after one in the morning when a knock sounded from behind the door.
Annabeth stood up, clutching a familiar knife. I realized Lena also had this knife.
Lena fought with the weapons of her parents.
Her fathers sword.
Her mothers knife.
I recalled the watch she wore on her wrist, and remembered her father supposedly wore one just like that.
As well as her invisibility cap. That was her mothers.
She may claim to not like her heritage, but Lena is proud to be a Jackson. She fights for her parents every time she raises their weapons. She fights to avenge her parents death, even if that means just surviving another day. And I can tell, that gets more difficult for her every day.
Annabeth glanced in the peephole and audibly exhaled in relief, flinging the door open. In the doorway stood Percy, slightly scratched, but otherwise unharmed. Annabeth threw her arms around her husband.
Silena smiled wide and shouted, "Daddy!" as she jumped off the bed.
The two heroes pulled apart. "Silena!" Percy said, just as excitedly as he scooped up his daughter, spinning her around. "What are you doing up, my little Dolphin?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"Maybe this will help," he said as he pulled out Silena's teddy bear from the carnival.
She clapped, her joy apparent. "You found it! Yay!" She exclaimed as she wrapped her short arms around her father's neck. "Thank you, thank you!"
He smiled wide. Complete adoration was clear. "Your welcome, my Silena."
The image started to blur again I couldn't help but feel as if I understood Lena much more, and why her opinions of heroism were so negative.
In movies, the hero is perfect and has a happy ending.
Lena grew up with two real-live heroes. She saw the after-effects. It was imperfect and dangerous. A life filled with monsters, where the casual trip to the city's carnival became a death match with a monster.
I awoke and my eyes shot open. Lena, on the other hand didn't move, though I knew she was awake.
She was embarrassed, I realized. Ashamed. I had seen a very different side of her. A young, innocent side of her.
To Lena's belief, she was anything but innocent.
This was Lena's belief.
I pressed my forehead softly to hers. "Lena."
She remained motionless.
Lena believed herself to be a murderer, a killer of that childhood innocence, of Silena. She believed she was broken far beyond repair. Unfixable, unworthy of the effort and care she so clearly needed and deserved.
What she didn't realized was that she had just locked that young girl away. That with time, care, and, yes, emotional pain, she could be returned. She would never be the same as that little girl, but overall, in the long run, she would hurt less inside.
"Silena." I dared.
Lena's eyes shot open, a weak anger engulfing them. "Don't call me that."
I drew away and looked in her green eyes, noting all the change that had happened since that memory. I grieved for her innocence and lost childhood. I could never give her that back, and I felt guilty about that.
"I'm sorry." I told her.
At first, anger twisted her face and I prepared myself for whatever was to come.
But then, it stopped.
And she began to sob.