Am I writing another fanfic about a Percy Jackson and TeenWolf crossover? Yes.
Will it be better than the last one? Prob’ly not. Less people might die though, you know.
This story is going to be incredibly non-canon compliant. Prepare for a million things that didn’t happen in the show or books, facts that are probably important but aren’t included. I’m warning you now, and if you complain about it then just don’t read the story. Because I don’t care.
1. Fifth Grade - Stiles
We hopped off the bus in a single line, the teacher tapped each of us on the head as we passed. “Nine … ten … eleven …” Mr Dran counted lazily, his hand smacked my head.
I scowled at him.
He gave my shoulder a nudge, “go on, go stand with Miss Lana.”
Students who’d already gotten off the bus stood behind the parent helper, holding onto a long rope. I ran over behind my mate Scott and some other kid who was drawing circles in the dirt with his sneakers.
“Where are we?” I asked, grabbing the rope.
Scott shrugged, “we’re at war.” he pointed towards the line of war cannons and other large weapons set up in rows on the field.
“Everyone holding onto the rope?” Miss Lana called, there was a small round of agreement. “Alright let’s go. Today we’re visiting the Saratoga Battlefield…”
We walked around the rows of weapon machines that the teachers took turns talking about. The students …we didn’t listen to a second of what they had to say. Two girls were playing several rounds of rock paper scissors, I was trying to kick Scott in the back of the knees, Jackson was tugging the rope backwards and forwards like a wiggling snake.
We went past a Revolutionary War Cannon and the kid in front of us dropped away from the line. Sharing a quick look with Scott, we followed. The three of us went around the canon and the kid jumped up with a look of excitement.
“What are you doing?” Scott said curiously.
The kid picked up a rope hanging from the barrel, “I dunno. Looking.”
I joined him behind the metal thing, sticking my head in the hole, “Does it still work?”
“Yes, so step away kids,” Mr Dran shouted, he and the rest of the class stood behind them with wide eyes. “Percy, put the rope down.”
Scott grabbed the back of my jumper and pulled me back. I reached for the kid, Percy, but my foot stumbled and we tumbled backwards. Miss Lana helped us up and led us back to our places on the rope.
Percy still stood with the rope in his hand, and without thinking very hard on what would happen, he pulled the rope.
It went off with a loud bang and my hands flew up to cover my ears. A second bang sounded, and dark smoke clouded –not just from the canon, but also from the bus.
A few people were screaming, I’m not entirely sure if I was screaming too, or peeing my pants. It doesn’t matter.
The rest of the day turned into chaos. Parents were called, we were all yelled at severely. I was surprised no one gave me or Scott or Percy a good smack with a wooden spoon.
The teachers managed to get a second bus to take us back to the school –since the first one had a massive hole in the side– where everyone’s parents waited angrily. The three of us were taken straight to the principal’s office and told to wait outside while Percy and his mum talked to Mrs Molen.
“Do you think we’ll be expelled?” I wondered aloud.
“We weren’t the ones to blow up the bus. Maybe just no free time for a while.” Scott said sadly.
The door opened and out came Percy’s mum, holding her son’s hand. They both looked sad, defeated even. His mum looked very tired, with deep bags under her eyes and a deep frown that looked very out of place.
Percy waved as they passed, and when they were about to step out the doors, I swear I heard her say, “how many more times is this going to happen, honey…?”
“Stiles?” I looked up at the sound of my dad’s voice, he was beckoning me towards the office door. “Come on, let’s go, bud.”
I didn’t see Percy the next day, and his name wasn’t called in the role. It didn’t take long for me to realise the kid had been expelled, not just given lunchtime detentions. It seemed far too cruel for a young boy though, it was obviously an accident.
It didn’t matter though, Percy never came back. I asked my dad about their family, he told me they lived in Manhattan and Percy had been staying with a relative so he had no reason to be in Beacon Hills anymore.
Scott patted my back suddenly, and I looked up at him. I almost expected him to say something meaningful, something deep. “Stop moping and help me stack the chairs.”
Then again we’re both only eleven.
----
My phone buzzed in my pocket, I pulled it out and pressed answer. Scott’s voice came out of the speakers, a little fuzzy, “dude, where are you?”
“On a …walk.” This technically wasn’t a lie, I was walking along a small lane. Just not with the intent of going for a simple walk.
“A walk? You never do that, what are you really doing?” Scott asked, picking up on the lie easily. “Actually, just tell me where you are.”
“Altaine Road.”
“Allison’s street? Are you seriously trying to prove they’re not the hunters or —something?”
I didn’t answer, having stopped walking altogether. Next door to the Argents home was a moving truck where several people were lifting heavy boxes from the back and into the house. Mr and Mrs Argent appeared to be helping, talking happily with a lady.
“Looks like they have new neighbours,” I noted, speaking into my phone again. “The argents seem pretty familiar with them too.”
“What? Who?” Scott said.
“I don’t know, Scott. They’re just moving in now.” I continued walking, “I’ll tell you what I find out later.” I hung up before anything else could be said, then walked as close to the houses as I could without being suspicious.
A few men in bright red work shirts helped a boy around my age (maybe) lift furniture through the door into the house. The women carried boxes beside Allison’s parents, talking loudly about travelling.
Allison was —was running towards me. She’d left the boxes she’d been carrying on the grass for someone else to deal with and was now calling out his name, “stiles! Hey!”
I walked off the path, “hey Allison, how are you?”
“Good, good.” Allison tilted her head curiously, “what are you doing here?”
“Oh, uh, I got really bored at home so I decided to go for a walk,” I bobbed my head, tucking my hands in my pockets.
“You live near here?”
“Nope.”
She nodded her head, kissing her teeth, “well, if you’re so bored you could come help us. We’re moving our neighbours' furniture into their house.”
I agreed and we walked up to the house. Allison picked up her forgotten box and I found –the lightest possible box— another box I could manage with, and lifted it through the doors.
The house smelt fresh, like lavender and vanilla flowers. The walls were a mix of colours, some creamy white and others soft blues. The floor looked like a million shells pushed into sand, though it felt like normal, smooth tiles.
They left the boxes in what I guessed was the lounge room, it was hard to be sure since all the rooms were empty except for a few beach paintings. It was noticeably a beach based kind of house, not one that really belonged in a city but it was nice nonetheless.
The parents spotted me then, and the lady’s eyebrows narrowed, “Sorry, but who are you?”
“My name’s Stiles, I’m a friend of Allison’s.” I answered quickly, feeling like I was being analysed. “She asked if I wanted to help, I said yes. Sorry for intruding.”
“Oh, it’s fine dear. Thank you, I’m Sally Jackson.” her eyes softened, “you look my son's age, you know. Maybe you’ll see him in school tomorrow.”
1403 words