GO FORWARD AND BE EATEN.
GO BACK AND REGRET IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.
NOT MUCH OF A CHOICE, IS IT?
Percy and Annabeth are good, but not that good. Besides, he isn't always invincible.
Percy was in the changing room at Goode, for theee . . . third, fourth? . . . School year in a row (keep up the good work Percy!) when his friend on the swim team, Theo, whistled.
"Dude, what happened to you? You look like some crazy person attacked you with a knife."
Percy looked down at himself.
He had three, long, diagonal scars across his back that were from a lucky hellhound, and two thin ones running over his chest, one from his left shoulder to his right hip and the other going straight over his stomach, intersecting with the first on his left ribcage. There was also one where his mortal point used to be, a tiny circular scar on the small of his back. They had all been too big to be completely healed with nectar, and Percy thought it was pointless to heal them in water. Like the gray streak in his hair, they were signs of war, and he wore them with pride.
"Ummm, cat and a lawn mower?" he tried to say, but it sounded more like a question.
Theo stared at him.
"A cat and a lawn mower? You seriously expect me to believe that shit?"
"It would make things easier if you did," Percy mumbled. Louder he said, "Trust me Theo; it will be better if you don't ask."
"You're messed up Percy Jackson," he said shaking his head, "but you wouldn't be my friend if you weren't."
As they walked out of the changing room, Theo muttered to Percy, "Someday you will tell me how you got those."
Smirking, Percy replied, "Don't count on it."
"OH MY GOD!" Annabeth's friend Cara screeched.
Jumping and grabbing her jeans with her knife in them, Annabeth scanned the changing room for the unlucky monster that dared attack her when she was wearing nothing but a bra and underwear.
Relaxing when she saw nothing but a few curious stares, she hissed, "What the hell Cara! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
Cara stared at her.
"You . . . you're all . . ." as she gestured wordlessly to Annabeth's tan body, Annabeth realized what she was getting at.
"Oh that. Don't worry, their nothing," she said, dismissing the long scar that ran from her right ankle, up her hip, across her back to the back of her neck, over her shoulder and down between her breasts, marring the skin on her flat stomach and over her left hip on her leg. Also the one on her arm, curtsey of Ethan Nakumura, and her own stupidity.
"Nothing!" cried Cara, "You look like someone used you as a knife sharpener, and you say it's nothing!"
"Shh, keep your voice down," Annabeth snapped, quickly pulling her shirt over her head.
"Annabeth, what happened to you?" Cara asked quietly.
"It was just an accident," she assured her friend, "Really, it's nothing to worry about."
"But how did it happen?"
Mentally, Annabeth sighed. Percy had often had complained about having to lie to his mortal friends, but it hadn't bothered her until now.
"I really can't tell you that," she said through gritted teeth.
Cara stared at her. Then she sighed.
"If I drop it now, will you promise to tell me someday?"
Annabeth smiled.
"Nope."
"I didn't think so," Cara muttered.
The thing is, nobody other then the other, would ever know where all Percy's and Annabeth's scars had come from. When they were making out for example, and certain articles of clothing got removed, the other would never wonder where they came from. Because they were both there when it happened.
IT'S SO SHORT! And pointless. Oh well. RRREEEVVVIIIEEEWWW!