𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 - 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒐𝒄

‧⁺˚*･༓𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑵༓･*˚⁺‧

It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality. 

Chiron had said that long ago. As usual, Percy didn't appreciate his wisdom until much later. 

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.This crazy kidnapper (aka. Ares) was the same man who had abducted Percy and three other adolescents in New York and brought them across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror. Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterward, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus—"Why didn't I remember him before?"). The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo,and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his three friends were safely in police custody.The reporters fed them this whole story. They just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras. 

"All I want," Percy said, choking back his tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk,I knew...somehow...we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number." 

The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for four tickets on the next plane to New York. 

Percy knew there was no choice but to fly. He hoped Zeus would cut him some slack, considering the circumstances. But it was still hard to force himself onboard the flight. Takeoff was a nightmare. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster. Percy didn't let go of Phoenix's until the plane touched down safely at La Guardia (which didn't bother Phoenix of course).

The local press was waiting for them outside security, but they managed to evade them thanks to Annabeth, who lured them away in her invisible Yankees cap, shouting, 

"They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!," then rejoined the three at baggage claim. 

They split up at the taxi stand. Percy told Phoenix, Annabeth, and Grover to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. They protested and it was hard to let them go after all the heroes been through, but Percy knew he had to do this last part of the quest by himself. 

If things went wrong, if the gods didn't believe him...he wanted Phoenix, Annabeth, and Grover to survive to tell Chiron the truth. 

Percy hopped in a taxi and headed into Manhattan. Thirty minutes later, he walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building. He must have looked like a homeless kid, with his tattered clothes and his scraped-up face. He hadn't slept in at least twenty-four hours. 

He went up to the guard at the front desk and said, "Six hundredth floor."

He was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. Percy wasn't much into fantasy, but the book must've been good, because the guard took a while to look up. "No such floor, kiddo."

"I need an audience with Zeus."

He gave Percy a vacant smile. "Sorry?"

"You heard me." Percy was about to decide this guy was just a regular mortal, and he'd better run for it before he called the straitjacket patrol, when he said,