Who the hell thought making me a Half-blood was a good idea? {ON HOLD}

Act Two-I'm always going to call the Master Bolt the Zeusy zappy zapper.

Disclaimer: The world of Percy Jackson, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of Rick Riordan and his publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

Trigger Warning for Vomit

Luke is Not Happy with me.

I never thought I'd be afraid of him, but with the furious snarl on his face as he drags me out of the Walmart, I'm terrified. The only way this could be worse is if he simply walked away.

He pays Annabeth no mind as she screams at him to let me go, tugging on his arm, but he only pushes her off. I yelp as he shoves me towards the wall of an alleyway. Even as I stumble away from him, he stalks forward, hands visibly twitching.

"What the fuck was that?" he spat, unsheathing his sword in a single, clean movement. "Who are you?"

I put my hands up in surrender. "Whoa! I think we all need to calm down here," I tried.

"Calm down?" he spat. "Calm down? The Fates just showed up, and you are not who you claim to be!"

"Then who do you think I am?"

He jerked as if to make a violent motion and Annabeth hastily tried to step in, but she could only hover helplessly at his wordless growl.

"Look, Luke-"

"WHO ARE YOU?" he yelled at me. "Who the fuck are you!"

"I'm me! Persephone Ophelia Jackson! Me!"

"Stop lying!"

"Lu-"

He slapped me.

I read somewhere once that there was a world of difference between a closed fist and an open palm.

Gods forgive me, I know exactly what they meant.

The effect was instantaneous. I shut up, cradling my cheek as tears streamed down my face. Annabeth gasped made an aborted movement and Luke... Luke had suddenly doubled over, coughing and hacking. He wheezed audibly, choking on something that wasn't there, panic plain as day as he realised he couldn't breathe.

"No!" I shouted, scrambling towards him.

He collapsed backwards, gasping for air that wouldn't come, Backbiter clattering on the concrete.

"Nononono," I cried softly. My hands hovered over his chest, panicking as my soulmate lay dying in front of me. "Come on, you can't- please, Luke breathe!" I sobbed.

Annabeth knelt over him too, screaming something that I couldn't hear. It could've been at either of us, but I was barely registering right now.

"Please! Please! I'm sorry! Please!" I begged anything everything. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Don't you dare! Don't you dare die on me! Luke!"

His face was turning blue, his eyes fluttering closed.

The hole in my chest- the pressure- grew.

"Breathe!" I told him, clutching at him desperately. My hands came to cup his face. "Breathe!"

His eyes flew open. Blue skies met green seas. He breathed.

I collapsed, snaking my arms around him, sobbing into his chest in relief, chanting "thank you," to every deity I knew.

There's a knife at my throat.