Princesses, Punks, and One Problem.

'Till I Collapse

Imagine a three hundred pound bull fighting a baby cricket. That's almost exactly what this situation seemed like. The man could merely step on the boy, being seven inches taller than the boy. He had a huge advantage over him. The father began with cracking his knuckles, causing and nauseating pop to resound throughout the room. 

Nico looked like he'd give anything to disappear right now, his face a perfect image of misery. His father grabbed the young boy by the shirt with a look of pure rage in his eyes, closing in on his son, his hand clutching the fabric so hard his knuckles turned white. The boy stood as still as stone, waiting for whatever terror awaited him in just a few moments, his face even paler than usual. His father raised his strong, intimidating hand and stuck him across the cheek, leaving an angry red welt to blossom where his hand had connected. The boy whimpered and closed his eyes, then turned away from his father. 

Paul had lifted Nico off the ground, pressing the struggling adolescent against the wall with a crushing force. He again raised his hand, this time clenching it into a fist. Concentrating all of his anger into one blow, he hit his defenseless son straight in the stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. After his father stuck the boy a few more times, he released him, satisfied. They boy felt limp against the ground, bruises already beginning to form. He was knocked out within seconds; the father continued. Continuously stomping on the face, red blood began to ooze from the nostrils and mouth. A horrifying crack rippled through the air as the boy's father evidently broke his nose. The man finished the onslaught by kicking him; sending him flying through the air. The boy's father neatly wiped his hands on his pants, and looked around, pretending nothing had happened.

He looked down at the broken figure of his adopted son with a sneer, "You have Percy to thank for every damned thing that happens to you this weekend." He gave Nico one more sharp kick to the chest, before spinning out of the room, not even bothering to check for a pulse. 

The broken door crunched beneath Paul's feet as he left the room, splinters flying through the air as they broke apart from the fallen slab of painted oak. The man fumed down the stairs, prowling towards his endless stock of alcohol for a drink. Everything was always more entertaining when drunk. The thought sent a twisted smile across Paul's face, splitting it like a scar. 

After all, what good story started with eating a salad?

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Percy took off running down the alleyway between his apartment building and the adjacent one, every time his sneakers scraped the pavement like the song of freedom in his ears. He had finally done it, finally stood up to Paul. One of his many problems, finally, after Gods knew how many years, solved. 

He ripped around the corner leading onto the main road, and kept sprinting with no destination in mind. All that he knew, was that he needed an escape. He just needed to be normal, if even for only one day. 

Percy Jackson, the hero, was tired of being a hero. The only thing he wanted was to go through college as a normal guy, with normal friends, and a girlfriend who wasn't in danger of being forced into marriage by a titan. And he had an idea of how to have just that. Well, for the most part. 

All he had to do was make it to the beach, where he could kneel in the wet sand and have his toes licked by the waves. Then, he could call in a favor from dear old daddy Poseidon. After everything Percy had done for Olympus, asking the Olympians to change him into a mortal seemed a trivial reward, but it would literally mean Percy's world. 

Especially because it would make it incredibly easy to defeat Luke. Because the ancient titan wouldn't understand that Olympus's greatest hero was a mortal now, and therefore would be immune to celestial bronze and imperial gold, which he knew were the materials put into making Kronos's scythe. 

Once upon a time, there had been a sword named Backbiter, which had both steel and celestial bronze, but the cyclops had long ago melted such a dangerous weapon after it almost destroyed the country, and Greece's point of influence, New York's Empire State Building. 

For the first time since this crazy chain of events had been set off, Percy had a plan, one he had actual faith in and wasn't just diving into the fray to save a friend or two. This time, Percy didn't plan on taking no for an answer from the Gods, he was going to become a mortal. 

It was time for the Olympians to pick a new hero, somebody else to carry out their will and whim, somebody else to protect the palace of Olympus. 

As he dashed, Percy willed himself to ignore all the serpentine shapes of various monsters lining the streets of the city, declining himself the temptation to draw his sword and fight one last time. He held himself at bay by the idea of how many monsters he had already killed, and the acidic feeling of nausea wrapped around him like a blanket. 

Percy shook his head, feeling his muscles begin to burn from the effort of running for so long at full speed, and his feet ache with the trying exercise of avoiding the tourists and shoppers swarming the bustling city of San Diego. Eventually, he would have to slow down and rest his thundering heart, but he dreaded that moment. Hurtling forward at full speed as twilight descended upon the warm city felt liberating, as if he'd just taken his first steps out of prison in a decade. 

Until a thought sent him screeching to a halt, horror dawning on him. Nico. Nico was stuck with Paul.