The Lost Son (pjo&to crossover)

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Hi Everyone! I'm back!

This chapter isn't my best one, I was on and off with it, and it may be confusing sometimes but let's hope it will go well. Next chapter Percy is going to New Orleans and I'm so excited to write it!

Enjoy!

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Hope POV

I woke up and looked at my wrist and didn't find my bracelet. I panicked and looked around and then everything came back to me.

I went downstairs and waited for everyone to get ready for the visions. Thinking about the visions got me to think back to my "meeting" with Percy. What he said, what he thought he was.

A monster.

But he's not. He's not a monster.

Then why does he think that? Sure, sometimes I think I'm a mistake, someone who should never have been born. But I never thought I was a monster because of who I am. What did he go through that got him to think that horrible thing about himself?

My father cut my train thought as he said "Hope are you ok?"

"Yah, what?" I said.

"I asked if you were ok? We want to start watching the memories and you zoned out." He said, worry could be shown in his eyes.

"I'm fine. Promise!" I said, trying to convince him.

My dad started to say something when Aunt Freya came in, "hey, there you are. Coming?" She said and got out of the room.

I ran out, not wanting to confront my father and do that without thinking how much he and Percy are alike, from the outside, and the inside.

Everyone were in the living room as I walked in and after a second dad came in too.

"Alright everyone, you know what we have to do. Hold hands and don't let go!" Aunt Freya said.

We all stood in a circle and held hands as me, Aunt Freya and Aunt Davina chanted. The world started to change as we moved in one of my brother's memories.

Third POV

They were at the top of some mountain. There were ruins, blocks of black granite and marble as big as houses. Broken columns. Statues of bronze that looked as though they'd been half melted.

"Where are we?" Hayley said.

"I don't know love." Klaus said.

"Look! Over there!" Hope said, as she pointed.

A few yards ahead of them, gray clouds swirled in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touched the mountaintop, but instead rested on the shoulders of a twelve-year-old girl with auburn hair and a tattered silvery dress, her legs bound to the rock with celestial bronze chains. It was like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Who is she?" Rebekah said.

"More important- what is she holding?" Elijah said.

"And who is this man?" Marcel said, alerting the rest of the family.

"What man?" Rebekah asked her husband.

"Over there," Marcel said, pointing at the man.

There was a figure next to the young girl, a man. He was tall and muscular, with light brown skin and slicked-back dark hair. He wore an expensive brown silk suit like the guys on Wall Street wear, but you'd never mistake this man for a broker. He had a brutal face, huge shoulders, and hands that could snap a flagpole in half. His eyes were like stone. They felt as if they were looking at a living statue. It was amazing he could even move.