Champion of Love

Don't Worry, It's Only Slight PTSD

I'm gonna tell you guys right now, this version of Percy Jackson that I'm writing might be slightly less PG at times, but not all of the time or even most of it. Just small moments that will slowly get more prominent the more the series progresses. Enjoy!

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Percy hated this place, but it was empty and easy to break into and he knew to use any utilities he had at his disposal, even if he didn't like them. He was covered in dirt and had slipped on icy sidewalks plenty of times. It had started raining on his way over, then the rain turned into sleet as it got colder. He was freezing, splattered with mud and sleet, and his clothes were ripped and dirty.

He'd gotten a few scrapes both from falling and from the Minotaur. After covering his coat in mud, he'd finally covered his scent enough for the beast to lose his trail briefly.

The man-bull had charged several times and clipped Percy with his horns. There was a pretty deep gash in his left side that wouldn't stop bleeding and stung like nobody's business. He wished he had his Glock so he could just blow the monster to dust with one shot, but he hadn't had it with him at the museum since he didn't have a more discreet form for it yet. He was working on finding an enchantment to make the gun into a ring, that way it could just appear in his hand when needed. Swords and knives were great weapons but sometimes, guns were an easier solution. That was one nugget of wisdom from Ares he agreed with.

He sighed and examined his sword. A couple Hellhounds had jumped out of a random alleyway, trying to ambush him. He'd dispatched them quickly, but it had slowed him down and he'd almost dropped his sword. The weapon was named αγάπη-Agápi. It meant Love. Aphrodite had once told him he'd kill his greatest enemies with Love, no matter the method.

He turned it back into a choker and latched it around his neck, letting his head fall back against the cracked wall. He remembered sitting in this spot, just like this. Remembered the wall cracking behind his head, beer being poured over him and stinging cuts. Remembered cigar smoke being blown in his face as that trashbag of a man told Percy that his mother was only good for seven layer dip and sex the day after she'd been killed and Percy had to go home by himself, almost getting lost several times on the way. Remembered water bursting out of the sink and forcing the man back from him as he got up and limped out of the apartment as fast as he could.

His left eye had been swollen shut and the cuts around it burned from the beer poured over him. Two of his teeth had been knocked out and a third was loose. His right ankle didn't want to hold his weight properly after he'd twisted it trying to get away from his step-father and his breath rattled in his chest. It had hurt trying to take deep breaths, so he'd figured his ribs were broken. He'd broken three fingers on his left hand punching his step-father, so using that hand hurt horribly.

He'd semi-deliriously made his way around New York until he'd stumbled into Central Park. No one seemed to notice him or his injuries at all, or maybe they didn't care and Gabe was right-he was worth nothing. His vision was blurred with tears in his good eye.

He'd made his way into the trees and collapsed at the roots of one. The roots seemed to curl around him and the branches seemed to move closer to each other to keep the light drizzle that had just begun from getting to him.

He'd heard the growls, but he was dead tired. Yet, he still got up. He had nothing to fend for himself against the beasts, but the water in the air seemed to follow his thought of a weapon and formed to make a knife that looked just like the one Mommy used to cut vegetables with while she made dinner.

He tried the hit and run tactic for a while before the giant monster dog raked it's large, sharp claws across his face, marring most of it. Heyd laid there on the ground, already injured from Gabe, and now the majority of his face was mauled to the point of being unrecognizable. It hurt too much to get up. Hurt too much to try anymore. He didn't know what life had against him, but he'd accepted that he'd die there with nothing to his name, not even a mother. No one would miss Percy, and he'd been the only one that would miss Sally.