𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘 ! ━ 𝙋. 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙎𝙊𝙉

vii.

𖤓

The next day, a few hours after dawn, Percy was moved to Cabin Three.

No one from Eleven spoke to him. No bye, no see you later, no good luck. Nothing.

Marcel observed the scene distastefully. For the cabin of the god of travelers, they lacked hospitality. A bunch of pussies, if you asked him.

He made up his mind. Since Percy was his now ex-roommate (floormate?), and they were sort of friends (more like acquaintances), then Marcel would see him off.

Marcel made his way toward the door, where Percy was looking back at the other demigods with an indescribable look in his eyes. He nudged the younger with a crooked encouraging smile, and walked past him to meet Chiron, who waited for Percy outside.

The Centaur greeted him politely, and he nodded in return.

After their talk, things had been tense between them. Marcel was still upset that he had been lied to for years. Yes, he'd still talk to Chiron, but only if he had a reason to  do so. If he didn't, he'd mostly ignore his existence.

Of course, it was petty. But being petty was part of his personality and he didn't plan on changing that anytime soon.

Once Percy got out of Hermes Cabin, Chiron said: "Since Marcel is here, he can accompany you to your new cabin, Percy."

Marcel's head whipped around, and stared at the activities director with raised eyebrows. Did he just drop the responsibility on me?

Don't get him wrong - he liked Percy, he really did. But if he had to choose between dealing with something or not, he'd gladly pick the latter.

He deadpanned at Chiron but didn't comment on it. Instead, he turned to Percy and signaled him to hurry up.

𖤓

Percy did not like his situation.

He just started to feel accepted. Cabin Eleven slowly became his home. Other campers were mindful. They didn't want anything in return for helping him out. They showed him around, introduced him to the Ancient Greek traditions, and something he appreciated the most - they made him feel like a normal kid. Well, as normal as one can be when living as a half-blood.

However, this home didn't feel the same as the one he and his mom used to have. He missed the blue cookies she always made. He missed her tender touch. He missed her voice and her hugs. He missed her so much.

But she wasn't going to come back.

The thought alone made Percy absolutely miserable.

He hated himself for not telling her how much he appreciated her. How much he loved her. He hated himself for not helping her with Smelly Gabe. He hated how she didn't fulfill her dream of publishing a book. And mostly - he hated himself for being such a horrible son.

Percy didn't tell anyone about this. Not even a whisper slipped from his lips about how much he wanted to cry. Whenever he remembered the gruesome scene with the Minotaur, he had to stop his eyes from watering. He felt as if he didn't deserve to grieve over her. How could he when he was the reason she was dead?

Here he was, a son of Poseidon who couldn't even save his mother.

Additionally, he was separated from everybody else.

After his claiming, almost everyone refused to talk to him. They treated him like a leper. Some were talking behind his back, and others were scared to train with him, because of what he did to Ares kids in the woods (he kicked their asses, even Clarisse's!). Luke still sparred with him but was more aggressive and didn't hesitate to bruise him. The son of Hermes would use a "you're going to need all the training you can get" excuse.