Jack Dawkins One Shots

I know who you are...

The Artful Dodger X Percy Jackson!

Oh, no. I just had an idea for a The Artful Dodger/Percy Jackson & The Olympians crossover fic. In episode 4, of Dodger, they revealed Jack is dyslexic. Well, in PJ&O dyslexia is because of being a demigod and since we have no idea who Jack's parents are, we could easily be an unclaimed demigod. I just can't decide whether is father should be Hermes, the god of thieves, or Apollo, the god of medicine. If the former, I can just see Fagin rubbing it in, telling him it's in his blood and that he's destined to be a great thief for the rest of his life. Haven't worked out why monsters haven't come after him yet either. Can someone please write this so I don't have to

Yes you read that right, this concept I saw on Tumblr by this amazing person and I humbly asked if they would allow me the pleasure of writing it for them because I adored the concept so much so here it is: 

The Night hung low over London, with thick storm clouds blocking out the stars, snow fluttering down from the clouds settled on the dirty streets. The light danced across the cobblestones as it flooded out the windows of the local pub that sat beside the river Thames,  within the pub people danced, drank and laughed unaware of what was occurring outside of it. Just out of sight down an undersized alley littered with boxes and broken bottles, stood a woman.

She was youthful with a head of light brown straggly hair, her face dirty, her body small and sunken, bound tight in many grey layers. She had a tattoo across her arm a mark known to many police officers that meant she had been caught for prostitution and let go so they knew if she was found again she would be hung. But that was not the most notable thing about her. 

That was the baby swaddled in her arms in a damp old cloth, the baby cried and whined from the cold and the dark. The baby couldn't have been any older than a few days, two weeks if it was a day. She held the child close to her as she watched people pass her by. 

Once the coast was clear, she began slow steps out of the alley crossing the snowy cobblestones with her bare feet towards the river. She seemed frightened but strong as if fighting her emotions back. She reached the edge of the stone pathway and gazed down for a moment at the dark murky water below. As she looked she broke a moment and let out a whine of sadness before she fixed herself again. 

She took a step back and lowered herself to her knees, she set down the baby in its swaddled blanket and unwrapped the cover exposing the naked baby boy to the cold, he whined and cried louder at the cold, he seemed desperate for her comfort but she would not give it. 

She wiped away a tear "I am so sorry my darling," She kissed his little head before she got to her feet, she pulled up her hood concealing her face before she scampered away and disappeared into the night. 

The boy's cry filled the air and echoed through a hollow London on this cold snowy night. His little body shivered, but all of this was hidden by the dark, the falling snow and the loud pub. 

A gentle sound began to be heard, that of water shifting and moving as if something was making its way out of the murky depths. A hand came over the stone as a creature human at its highest and serpent at its lowest slithered out of the water and climbed the stone, hair slimy and snakeskin-like, it sniffled the child and looked joyous which only caused the baby to cry more frightened of this creature. The Scylla wrapped its snake-like tail around the child and tried to drag it back to the water with her -

Suddenly the door to the pub opened, and light flooded out, The Scylla panicked abandoned the child and slithered back into the water to prevent discovery. 

The man staggered out drunk as a mule, Beer bottle in hand. He was dirty, and grimy, perhaps his late twenties or early thirties but he seemed far older, "Alright Alright, you bastardly lot!" He cheered to those who remained inside before he shut the door. He began to walk and sip his beer as he went but he stopped as he heard the baby's cries. He staggered over only just avoiding a fall into the river himself kneeling at the baby's feet. "'ello there... what are you doin' out here then?" He asked as he looked at the child, he seemed to fight a war in his head before he looked to the murky river. He sighed and looked to the clouded sky, "Alright, I knows it. I ain't apologizin' because we both know I'd do it again tomorrow. and it's you who give me this nature so... its as much your issue as it is mine." He said, Before he wrapped the boy up in the swaddle and lifted him up in his arms which seemed to silence the boy, "I've done some terrible awful in this life, but I'm askin' humble like... Watch over this one." He said to the clouds before he turned his attention back to the little boy, "Come on then, let's get you warm." he said as he took the baby with him to an old battered attic where many boys slept, and a woman sat working on some sewing. In a moth-eaten dress with a mess of red hair.