Project Percy (Kotlc Meets Percy Jackson)

Chapter 1

A/N I don't have the first Keeper book with me right now, so I'm doing the entire book off memory! As an apology for inevitably getting things wrong, and making Percy a little ooc, here's a lovely incorrect quote:

Fitz: Yesterday, my best friend Sophie died
Sophie, transmitting while being tortured: I'M ALIVE STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD
Fitz: Sometimes, I can still hear her voice

"Perseus Jackson!" Mr Sweeny's nasal voice cut through the music blaring through Percy's earbuds as he yanked them out by the cords. "Have you decided that you're too smart to pay attention to this lecture?"

Percy forced his eyes open. The bright florescent lights of the museum was amplifying the headache pounding in his brain, the headache he couldn't tell anyone about.

Percy sighed. "No, Mr Sweeny." He sighed as his classmates glared at him. He went out of his way to avoid trouble, and yet trouble would always find him. The only reason he hadn't been kicked out of school at this point was because he was a twelve year old finishing his senior year of high school.

"Then perhaps you could explain why you were listening to your iPod instead of following along," Mr Sweeny said, holding up his earbuds like they were evidence of a crime. Though to him, they probably were. He'd dragged his class all the way to the Metropolitan museum of art, assuming they'd be excited about a field trip. He didn't seem to realize that unless the monsters arose from the friezes and started eating people, no one cared.

Percy sighed as he drummed his fingers on his desk. Mr Sweeny wouldn't understand why he needed the music to drown out the noise. He couldn't even hear the noise.

The water called to him. He didn't know how else to explain it. It felt like every drop of water around him was crawling into his skin, begging for his attention, which he desperately wanted to give. And yet he knew someone, in the back of his mind, he couldn't.

He'd tried one day, imagining the water turning into a dolphin, and it had obeyed. The discovery that he could control water thrilled him at first, and then he realized something. Well, realized was the wrong word. More like he just...knew.

He was a freak.

It had been his secret, his burden, since he'd fallen and hit his head when he was five years old. He'd woken up in the hospital and had been able to hear the water's call. He was five. Of course he had listened.

The police chalked the flood up to a burst pipe.

Ever since then, he knew that he couldn't listen. And so he'd waged a war against his instincts for seven years.

"Well, since you've decided that you're above this lecture, why don't you give it?" Mr Sweeny demanded, bringing him back to the present. "Explain the golden ratio."

Percy sighed and made his way to the front of the class, his mind flashing to the image of the information card in front of the display. His photographic memory had recorded every detail. As he recited the facts, Mr Sweeny's face twisted into a scowl, and his classmates' faces grew increasingly bitter.

Finally, Mr Sweeny stalked off to the other room, muttering something about know-it-alls.

"Nice job, Superfreak," a boy hissed at Percy. "Maybe they'll write another article about you. Child prodigy teaches class about golden bore-eo."

Yale had offered Percy a full scholarship, but his parents hadn't allowed him to go, something that some journalist had found noteworthy enough to post in an article. 'Child prodigy chooses city college over ivy league.'

To say that his parents had freaked would be an understatement. Paul and Amphitrite Jackson's rules were all about avoiding unnecessary attention. Front-page articles were pretty much their worst nightmare. They'd even called the editor to complain. Not that the editor was any happier. A story about a boy most people went out of their ways to avoid was far less interesting than an article about the arsonist terrorizing the city. Bizarre fires burning white and smelling like burnt sugar overtook anything, especially a person like him. No one was interested in his story.