𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗔 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗗 • 𝘗𝘑𝘖

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘

"𝗦𝗢, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗢𝗔𝗧–" Jackie began, not knowing quite how to finish.

Marielle scoffed and shook her head. "Yeah. Gift from Brizo."

Jackie tried to understand. She didn't get Marielle–didn't understand her hatred of Percy or her easy go-with-the-flow attitude when he wasn't around–but she could understand mothers. Apparently she had two.

She'd never gotten a gift from Aphrodite, though everyone told her she had. Jackie's other mother, Alice, hadn't given much either.

She'd given Jackie her name, her looks (well, what she'd looked like before—), and, eventually, she'd given her up. Given up.

The memory of her mother's death still made Jackie go quiet and snippy. She hadn't known the woman–she'd spent as much time with Aphrodite–but she knew only what the hospital files had said: Alice Karev had given up fighting after a long, very difficult birth. She'd refused medical help, and Jaqueline Karev became a ward of the state.

The gift Alice had given her was practice. She'd grown up alone and without anything. She'd practiced surviving, she'd practiced her skills–she supposed, in that way, that Jackie was Alice's gift. She'd survive, thanks to her practice.

She'd practiced picking pockets and picking locks. She'd practiced running from monsters–mortal and mythical. She'd practiced. It had been hard. It had scarred her.

But without that gift, she'd be dead.

Jackie looked down at her hands, at the smooth, unblemished skin. Curse you, Aphrodite, she thought, with a sudden burst of anger. I want them back.

Each scar had been a testament to what she'd survived. The ruler marks on the back of her hands, the burns on her fingertips, the glass cuts on her palms–she'd earned those.

She stared at her hands. She could only remember the big ones, the ones whose creations were seared into her memory, but as she watched, she saw gentle lines carve themselves into her hands. The scar tissue grew, and Jackie's memories were restored.

Jackie looked up at Marielle. The other girl had stopped in her tracks, stuck watching the change.

Green eye–blue eye traced the scars. With a gentle hand, she reached out to trace one of the marks–ruler; Jackie hadn't been paying attention in class. Her hand quivered.

"Since when," she asked, "could you do that?"

Jackie explained, because apparently Percy forgot to. Marielle knew most of the story–how Thorn had been a manticore, how Annabeth had sacrificed herself, how the Hunters and Apollo had gotten them out of there–but Percy had conveniently forgotten to mention that Jackie had the ability to change her features.

"Oh, man," Marielle said, dragging a hand down her face. "Your siblings are going to be so jealous. Do you have Charmspeak? That's the power most Aphrodite kids have."