𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬 [Percy Jackson]

4

There was nothing Hadrian wanted less than to risk his life to go on a suicidal quest to save the world. Unfortunately, he didn't have much of a choice.

"The boy with the red hair"

Everything was fuzzy, like he'd held his breath underwater for too long, his lungs fighting against him. His brain wasn't getting enough oxygen, his eyes weren't working properly. The more he tried to focus on the voice, the farther the person seemed to get.

"He has to be the answer"

"Annabeth-"

"There's many names I can call Hera, but a liar is not it" The girl sounded like she was right next to his ear, but also a mile away. Hadrian couldn't focus. He was hearing her words, but they weren't making any sense. "She was right about Jason and she's right about him, I know it"

He wasn't sure how long he was like that- vulnerable, alone, in an unfamiliar place. The truth was, he didn't even know where he was or how he'd gotten there. If he had been awake, he'd be terrified about it, but everything seems better when you're half unconscious.

Time seemed to pass differently, shadows of people next to him, sunlight filtering through the window, muffled noises, yelling, exhausted sighs. It all seemed to happen quickly, but stretched out at the same time.

He could have passed out for minutes or hours, seconds or days. There was no telling.

"Chiron- trust me. Don't you get the feeling of deja vu? Six years ago, this is exactly how he showed up"

Hadrian opened his eyes a few times, too exhausted to properly process what he was seeing.

The most frustrating part was that he couldn't remember. The last thing he was aware of, was a graveyard, a dirt lady... his brain hurt trying to make sense of it all.

The next time he woke up, the girl was gone. The house he was in seemed quaint, like something you'd see in old timey movies. Decorations coated every inch of the wallpapered walls, the bed had a floral bed sheet and a blanket draped over him. Golden rays fell on his face as he tried to sit up. The sun felt too familiar and his heart ached.

A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over him. He had blue eyes— at least a dozen of them—on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

"AAH-"

Very graciously, Hadrian fell out of bed, hitting his head on the wooden floor hard enough to see stars. But that didn't stop him from scrambling back, hands searching for a weapon, eyes scanning the room.

The guy- the monster didn't even say anything. He simply nodded once, tucking his lips in and walked out of the door.

A whole minute seemed to pass until Hadrian regained his wits and stood up. He was still groggy and his head still hurt. But now that he was on his feet, things seemed clearer. He tried to regulate his breathing. He'd been caught off guard, it wouldn't happen again. Now if he could just find his damn bow and quiver-

He scoured every inch of the room, even slung off some of the photos and paintings on the wall, but there was no trace of weapons. It looked like a victorian child's room in his opinion. The walls were a pale, sickly green. Black and white photos and kids' artwork was displayed on the walls.

There was even a sword stand, but no sword.

Hadrian needed to be smart about this. He tried to rack his brain, think about what had led up to him being here. Where even was here?

Kira. Gaea. Blank. 

The last thing he remembered was going to sleep in his usual alley and getting a dream.