Percy Jackson x Male Reader The Titans Curse

Nightmares, Yep Still Hate Them

Y/n's POV

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I hate nightmares.

Usually, they're predictable, never safe but always predictable. I knew what they always were I knew what to expect from them, the same memories playing over and over again in my head. And I took what little comfort I could from being able to know what was going to happen. But whenever something different happened, whenever they changed, then I knew something bad was happening.

Last summer my close friend Grover got caught by the Cyclops Polyphemus something Percy's dreams warned him about. While I had bad dreams warning me about the evil corrupt version of Chaos inside of me beginning to emerge again. On top of that, my dreams even warned me about my other friend Thalia getting resurrected from being a tree. So generally when my dreams start to change I take that as a warning something is about to go down. "So what happened in my dream this time?", you may ask. Well, I'd tell you but I have no clue.

It started like this, I was standing in front of my childhood home. It was a cabin that had a small deck on the front with chairs to sit on. Usually, I associated that place with good memories of my dad and calming recollections of the home I only so briefly shared with him. But standing there looking upon it, something was off it just felt wrong, something I couldn't put my finger on.

Anyway, after staring at it for a few more seconds, I heard a scream yelling out from inside the cabin. They sounded like they were in pain so I rushed inside, barging through the doors as I ran towards the voice. Without thinking I barged into a room I had never been in before.

As a kid there was always one place in the house I was never allowed into, I didn't know why but my dad always kept it locked. The room at the end of the hall, across from my bedroom. I always thought it was some monster or forbidden adult stuff he kept in there like gory movies or some ancient evil. But standing inside it in my dream I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

The room was painted in warm golden tones with accents of forest green splashed across the walls. And all along one side of the space was a massive mural of a forest landscape with a bright golden rising sun breaking through the trees. And most prominently a young doe stood in the foreground basking in the light. It was a stunning painting, but that wasn't why I was so estranged by it. The part that concerned me, was the fact that my dad had never painted.

The rest of the room was weirder, it lacked mostly any furnishing or items to fill it, but instead only held one large white crib at the center of the room. And there was one large window on the opposite side of the door. My dad always made sure to keep the curtains drawn so I couldn't see in from the outside, but now they were fully open to the forest. Looking at the room I thought maybe this could have been my old bedroom as a baby, maybe my mom had made the painting and my dad refused to touch it ever since. But I had no memory of this room, or the mural of the forest and the doe. And even then why had my dad been so serious about me never going into the room if it was just my old nursery?

Either way, I couldn't work it out and my dream kept going. I took a step closer to the crib expecting it to be empty, but as I looked down at it, nestled in the blankets was my dirk. A weapon I had relied upon so many times, but something was wrong. The blade didn't have its usual voidless darkness to it, instead, it was celestial bronze.

I recalled a dream I had when I went into that coma two summers ago. I had dreamt about my mom when she was pretending to be a half-blood while guiding me across the country, and how her avatar had been killed by the hydra. Normally that memory repeated all the time in my sleep, always the same. But that moment while in that coma there was one difference, her blade the dirk she gave to me was celestial bronze just like it was now.