𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔 • Percy Jackson.

III - 03

         

                HE WAS OUT OF IT THE ENTIRE TIME. Sat on the bus seat in a daze idly picking at his cuticles. His eyelashes fluttered every few seconds. He was so lost in thought he couldn't even marvel at the sight of the world thousands of meters below him. Apollo's words echoed in his ear as the old and the new clashed together. Don't try. Was what everyone was saying. The voices, Apollo, perhaps even fate asks him for it. But he can't.  Gods I need a cigarette. Maybe it'd stop the shaking. Maybe make it worse? He doesn't know anymore, but his throat was itchy and dying for one. 

It didn't help that Percy dragged him to sit next to him despite his clear intentions to sit by himself. (the hunters made that pretty easy.) He heard a little clearer than the rest –beyond Percy's concerns –  questions about what Apollo was talking about to him. "It's nothing, just me being stupid." He responded almost robotically. "It's clearly not nothing." Percy had commented though he paid no heed. "It is nothing." He assured making it clear he didn't want to talk about it again. Percy had no choice but to stop the topic. He failed to see the boy's frown. 

He tuned out the screams of Thalia who failed to steer right, the shakes of the bus in response, and Nico's gasps of wonder. It just wasn't worth it. He wanted to go back to that stupid apartment. The one that was echoing arguments in between its walls and singing misery among the vents. He winced as the bus suddenly rushed up, his stomach doing laps, and he was pulled back to the present. 

Thalia was a shit driver, he concluded. 

"There!" Apollo pointed. "Long Island, dead ahead. Let’s slow down, dear. ‘Dead’ is only an expression." He commented, his voice going an octave higher. Thalia was thundering towards the coastline of northern Long Island. There was Camp Half-Blood: the valley, the woods, the beach. Thalia muttered nonsense. You're so not under control, Amani thought with a racing heartbeat. They were only a few hundred meters away now when Apollo said, "brake." Thalia didn't follow, muttering, "I can do this." 

"BRAKE!"

Thalia slammed her foot on the brake, and the sun bus pitched forward at a forty-five-degree angle, slamming into the Camp Half-Blood canoe lake. Everyone was pushed forward and strained their arms to prevent their head from being smashed into the seat. His reaction time was a little slower than the rest and he lurched forward, but he felt an arm wrap around his waist pulling him back before his head hit straight into the seat in front of him.

Steam billowed up, sending several frightened naiads scrambling out of the water with half-woven wicker baskets. The bus bobbed to the surface along with a couple of capsized, half-melted canoes.

"Well," said Apollo with a brave smile. "You were right, my dear. You had everything under control! Let’s go see if we boiled anyone important, shall we?" He asked. 

They didn't boil anyone. (Though they did make a few naiads angry.) He rubbed his arms trying to appease the bruises on his arms. "Thalia should never drive. Again," he muttered to himself. The snow was piling on the ground and it was a clear perspective of the Winter session. The one that brought memories. "Whoa," Nico said as he climbed off the bus. "Is that a climbing wall?" He asked, looking at it with wide eyes. "Yeah," Percy said. 

"Why is there lava pouring down it?" 

"Little extra challenge. Come on. I’ll introduce you to Chiron. Zoë, have you met –" 

"I know Chiron," Zoë said stiffly. "Tell him we will be in Cabin Eight. Hunters, follow me." 

"I’ll show you the way," Grover offered.