Thunder and Blood

25

Annabeth

I stare at the dead monsters on the ground, they aren't disappearing like they normally do.  Usually they will materialize, or turn to gold dust. But the two halves of the minotaur are still laying on the ground, the broken body of the gorgon is still bleeding out on the driveway. 

Whatever Percy had done... it has never happened before. Monsters have never actually been killed. They have only been sent to Tartarus, destined to reappear in a few weeks, maybe a few years. 

Bloodbending. 

That is what Percy had done. He had controlled their blood, tearing them apart from the inside out. 

I watch as he wipes his hands on his orange shirt, dirtying it with spots of blood. He turns to walk back inside when the gorgon weakly raises its head, making a painful cry when it realizes it can't move. It's wings are broken, it's taloned legs bent in awkward directions. It can only wait in agony as Percy's attention is pulled towards it. He looks at it, his face is blank but his eyes are sparkling. 

I shut my eyes as he raises his hand for the last time, I don't need to see what he does. But I know he has finished when the gorgon's shrill cries go silent. A few moments later I hear the front door shut, I know Percy is back inside. I can't bring myself to look at him. 

No one in the room dares to breathe, not when they had just watched Percy brutally kill two monstrous things without touching them.  They are frightened... no, not just frightened. They are terrified. 

I turn, my eyes meeting Percy's. Our gazes hold for a second, then he looks at Peter. The man swallow hard, his eyes widening a bit, then he tries to relax. He holds my knife out towards Percy, and Percy takes it. 

I look out the window, at the bloody mess on the front lawn and driveway. 

Even after everything Percy had just done, I don't flinch as he wraps his arms around me. In fact, I find myself leaning back into him. He sticks my knife into the scabbard on my belt, resting his chin on my shoulder. 

"Let's go home." He whispers, the sound of his voice sending shivers down my spine. I turn to face him. He looks like Percy, he sounds like Percy. But something is off. He studies my face, analysing the bruises and cuts I had gotten from Peter. He touches them tenderly with his thumb, a tingling sensation erupts across my skin. He looks almost apoligetic as he tucks a few strands of stray hair behind my ear. 

"Okay." I say back, my voice won't go any louder than a whisper. "Let's go home."

He presses a quick kiss to my cheek before pulling away, walking towards the boy on the couch. I turn, Stiles - the missing kid - looks to me with teary, pleading eyes. Why is he even here? He looks like he couldn't even hurt a fly, but his mouth is taped, he looks paralyzed. They must have good reason to have him like this. 

Percy looks the boy up and down, no sympathy on his face. He glances at the group, from one face to the next. "He's coming with us."

"No." The boy with the tattoo says, but Percy looks at him and the boy goes quiet. 

"He's coming with us." Percy says again, his voice full of authority. "Do you understand me?" The group looks pale, no one dares to challenge him. Not after what they have just seen.  

But the same boy shakes his head. "Please. Percy, please don't."

"Percy." I say, my voice quiet. "How are we going to bring him into camp?" Monsters and mortals aren't able to go past the shield, unless permitted from inside. This kid has to be human, unlike the rest of the things in this room. They're shapeshifters, maybe, but I have never seen shapeshifters like this. Peter had been able to control it, it wasn't then mist keeping him human. He was able to turn back and forth at will.