Personae Non Gratae (a Percy Jackson AU)

Thanks For The Memories

    "It's illegal," he whispered.

    "And I can try to help you," I said. "I will petition the government. Maybe we can make some real change, but you shouldn't wait until then. You deserve happiness now-not in the distant future."

***Frank***

        Hazel held me in her arms as I sobbed into her nightgown. I had woken up from nightmares once again. Almost every night without fail, my dreams were filled with the last few moments my mother spent on earth. "Shhh," Hazel said in a soft voice. "You need to let it out. Scream if you must. I'm here for you."

        Tears still rained from my eyes, but my sobs faltered as I stared at her saffron-colored eyes. Waking up beside her for six months did not dull my appreciation for her beauty; if anything, I loved her more with every moment. "I keep seeing my mother r-" I started to say before tears forced me to choke on my own words.

       "She didn't even need to die," I said. "Her death served no purpose whatsoever. We were just walking when the bomb went off."

     Hazel said nothing, but rocked me gently against her. "I hate them!" I said suddenly.

    "The terrorists?' Hazel asked and I nodded.

    "I heard they found an informant," Hazel said. "I could try to contact the prison for you."

     I wondered if I really wanted to confront the truth, but I owed it to my mother. "Yes," I said. "I have to do this."

***

     I met Reyna in her jail cell. She was not what I expected. I expected someone who was ruthless and enjoyed cavorting with violence, but she seemed as broken as I was.  Her bronzed skin looked dull, as if she lived in shadows instead of in the sunlight. Her dark hair was tangled and her uniform was grimy, but something in her eyes made her look fiercer than anyone I had ever seen. "You wanted to speak?" she asked, her eyes meeting mine.

     I nodded and steeled myself for the pain that was to come. "I want to know why you did it," I said. "I want to know why you were part of the terrorist organization that killed my mother."

     Reyna's face dropped. "The marketplace bomb?" she asked and I nodded, feeling my pain twist itself in knots as she began to explain. "I knew the person who did it personally; he was a good guy."

     I opened my mouth to retort something furiously, but the look in her eye stopped me. Despite how strong she appeared, she almost appeared vulnerable in that moment-as if one more thing would destroy her forever. "Michael Kahale was a good person," she said, "but he was poisoned by the Titans. We all were, but he was the only one who grew loyal towards him and his loyalty never wavered. He became a fanatic, so when the Titans told us they wanted to plot an attack he volunteered."

     "He wanted to die?" I asked.

      She didn't speak for several long moments. The shadows falling on her face made her look ancient, as if she had seen all the pain embedded in the world and wanted to just die. "I'm not sure," she finally said. "He thought it was the right thing to do."

     At this, I exploded in anger, standing up quickly. "The right thing to do?" I said. "He killed fifteen people-including my mother. How was that the right thing to do?'

     "It wasn't," she said. "I told you, the Titans brainwashed us. He just believed their lies more than the rest of us."

     "But you're only a teenager?" I asked. "What did they do to you?'

     "They forced us to fight," she said, " as children. They destroyed our innocence in their own greed for power."

       One of the guards told me that my time was up. As I walked away, I saw Reyna looking at me as if trying to gauge my reactions. I looked away and felt icy tendrils sprouting down my spine. I remembered her words and when I started crying, it was not just for my loss, but her loss too. 

***Juniper***

      I hated the village. I hated the fake people who elbowed their ways through the busy marketplace and made it extremely difficult to find the groceries I needed to make enchiladas tonight. Nothing interfered with enchilada nigh-nothing.

      I spotted a stall that was selling corn flour and headed over to it, but I ended up running into a man. "Sorry," I said, as I helped them up.

      They had shaggy blonde hair and blues eyes that looked desolate. For a second, I forgot about my own sadness, but before I could ask them what was going on, they brushed past me. I shrugged and headed over to the stall where an older woman was smiling tersely, as if trying to smile through the pain. "How are you doing?" she asked.

      I started to say I was fine, but I just couldn't. "I've been having a lousy week," I admitted. "my husband and I got kicked off of our farm. We just moved in here."

     I saw sympathy on the woman's face and when I paid for the corn flour, she charged less than I expected. When I went to the home we shared with Gleeson and Mellie to save money, Grover was playing a sad tune on his reed pipes. "I can't believe it's gone," he said hoarsely, "and to rabbits of all things."

     "I'm making enchiladas tonight," I told him and he perked up a bit.

      Like I said, nothing interfered with enchilada night-not even getting evicted from the farm our family owned for generations.

     I made corn tortillas and had to swat Mellie away from them. Finally, once the enchiladas were ready, we sat down and enjoyed the warm food. It was good being with the people I loved. Our home might have been stolen away from us, but we had each other and for now that would have to be enough.

    Except, it wasn't. It never was enough because right then, the fifth person in the room decided that they wanted to be born. Gleeson paled; he couldn't exactly fight what was causing his wife pain without hurting Mellie. "I-I," he said nervously.

      "I need a doctor!" Mellie said.

       "Right," he said, picking her up and looking at Grover and I with an expression I'd never thought I'd see written on his face: fear. "Where's the hospital?"

      I remembered suddenly. "It's near the market," I said. "Follow me!"

      We ran as fast as we could, Mellie's breathes matching ours as she moaned in pain. When we arrived, I looked at the place in dismay. I saw hordes of people sitting in chairs or in wheelchairs, many of them looking as if they had been there for hours. Some of them were even sprawled out on the ground and other people were stepping over them, as if they were mere objects to avoid tripping over. I felt like throwing up, but Mellie needed help. 

     I ran to a harassed looking receptionist whose glasses had fallen off of her face. "What do you want?" she snapped irritably. 

     "Mellie is about to give birth," I gasped.   

    "Eh," she said. "Wait until a doctor sees you."

  "When will that be?" I asked, but someone else pushed me out of the way.

    I felt a bolt of anger; Mellie needed help now. She couldn't wait! I spotted the same blonde man I had bumped into earlier leading a small child with a cast back to his mother. I accosted him. "My friend is giving birth," I said. "It's urgent and we need help now."

     "No need to worry," he said. "I'll take a look at her now. My name is Will by the way, Will Solace."