PJO/HOO One Shots

Strength

The day my dad died, it felt like the world had been swept out from underneath my feet. I was twelve years old. I thought it couldn't have been real, because my dad was a big, strong guy who protected my family and lived forever. I believed it wasn't real, even though my grandma had pulled me out of school early and took me back home, where police were standing on the lawn outside my home. As soon as my mom saw me, she swept me into her arms and led me to where my younger brother, Luke, was also waiting. I knew my grandpa had picked him up when I saw the Prius.

My mom's blond hair was all messed up, and her eyes were ringed with red. I could tell she had come straight from work, because she was still wearing her signature blazer and slacks. The police officers were just beginning to leave, and my mom was pulling me with a vice-like grip.

"Mom, wait." My mom kept walking. "Mom, stop!"

Finally she stopped, and looked at me like she was irritated.

"What's going on?" I asked, exasperated.

My mom pursed her lips, but her face betrayed no emotions. "Your father is dead, Bianca. Now come, I need to get dinner for you and Luke."

She left, but I stayed rooted to the spot. It was true, then. My dad, the great Percy Jackson, was dead.
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The next couple of days leading up to the funeral were a blur. All I really remembered was that I didn't have to go to school, but I still had homework. I didn't do any of it, because I sat in bed confused all day.

From what my mom had told me, he had been walking back to his car when he heard someone in a nearby alley scream. My dad, being his super noble self, had immediately rushed in to help. It turned out some teenage girl was being robbed, and my dad successfully fought off the attacker, but not without being shot first. He died on the way to the hospital.

Speaking of my mom, she'd been acting so strange. More uptight than usual, but still like her normal self, which pissed me off. It was like dad's death was some big inconvenience for her. Luke and I were sad, but it seemed like all she could think about was work, and dad's will, and dad's funeral, and this and that. Didn't she care about my dad? My Aunt Piper told me lots of stories about her past adventures with my mom, and according to her, my mom and dad were really in love back then. Even now, they had always been the most lovey-dovey out of all my aunts and uncles. So why wasn't she even sad?

A week after the news broke that my dad had died, the funeral and burning of his shroud took place at Camp Half-Blood. I couldn't help but feel bitter when I looked at the place. I was supposed to be coming here in the summer, and my dad was supposed to be helping me pick a weapon and teaching me how to fight. And now, all of it was ripped from my feet.

Each of the Seven gave moving eulogies, and when it was my mom's turn, everyone held their breath. She said a lot of a nice, meaningful things about my dad, things I hadn't even known about him because I was too young, but she didn't shed a single tear, and her voice had no tone to it.

The shroud was burned after that. It was crafted by the Athena herself, because even though she didn't like my dad, she did it as a favor to my mom. I couldn't lie, it was a beautiful shroud. It was sea green, like my dad's eyes, and when it burned, it smelled like the sea. Then people went up to do viewings of the casket. I tried to go up there, but it was too much. My dad was pale, even though he was normally tan, and his hair was unusually neat. He didn't look familiar to me, and it scared me.

I ran away, past my mom, and way down to the dock. I didn't know how I ended up there, but I just knew I had to be close to something that reminded me of him. I sat on the dock and cried, and I didn't know when, but at some point my Uncle Frank and Aunt Hazel came and sat next to me. I had cried so hard I gave myself a migraine, but I tore my gaze from the sparkling water and looked at Uncle Frank.