A PJO/MR Crossover
During a date with Annabeth after the Giant War, mysterious men kidnap Percy Jackson. Injured and near death, the two are caught under a plot orchestrated by an all powerful god seeking revenge.
Sidenote: This story starts after...
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Percy POV We began our trek to the Big House, with Angel following along. Chiron told all of the other campers to go back to their cabins, despite their protests. For a group of demigods had formed into a suffocating mass, staring at Max questionably. Many were forced to go, leaving Clarisse La Rue, Annabeth, and I the only campers left. Angel walked alongside us while Chiron led the way, in full centaur form. We made sure we weren't too close to his hindquarters, suspicious of being kicked.
"I'm sorry this happened," Angel said sympathetically, noticing the purple blotch on my cheek. "Max's been angry ever since finding Jeb."
"It's alright," I said, ruffling her hair. It was tangled and dirty, the blonde color looking faded. "How did she find this place, anyway?"
"A woman showed us," She said. "She told Max she wanted to help us. I asked her what her name was, but she refused to answer my questions. I didn't trust her. Adults never help us, and they are always mean to me."
I suddenly felt compassion for her. Angel was just a little girl, and she already had trust issues towards people she is supposed to look up to. From years of abuse and torture, her behavior was not like that of a seven year old at all. She never had the chance to be a kid, and was forced to grow up too fast. I admired her strength and courage. It was easy to forget that she was a scared girl who had survived the unthinkable.
"I'm an adult," I said cheekily, trying to lighten the mood.
Annabeth overheard our conversation. "Give yourself another decade, Seaweed Brain. Maybe then you will be."
"Hey!" I said indignantly. Angel laughed, clinging onto my arm. Her curls brushed against my skin, a comfort I have never felt before.
"When's your birthday?" Angel asked, using my arm to pull downward with all of her weight.
"August 18th," I said. "What about you?"
Angel kept swinging on my arm, but her face changed. "I don't have one."
"Everyone has one," I said, astonished by her answer. "How come you don't know?"
My blonde friend didn't answer right away. "I was born in a test tube. The whitecoats never told me my birthday.'
Annabeth gave me a side glance, like a warning. She seemed uncomfortable for Angel, gesturing for me to change the subject. It was a horrible thing, not knowing your own birthday. Being born into a lab just for the sake of being experimented on, with no knowledge of fun, sweets, TV, sports, or parents.
I saw Max force her head around, eyes bloodshot. "Angel, don't talk to him!"
Her scowl didn't faze the blonde girl. Instead, Angel rebelliously stuck her tongue out.
Max didn't like this response. Without warning, she spread her wings, trying to propel herself off the ground. Clarisse was forced to restrain her with a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of the skinny girl.
