The Son of Death (Percy Jackson x Male Reader)

We Hang the Sheepskin Rug

The Hippocampi slowed to a stop.  I shook Sarah, who was passed out behind me with her arms around my waist.  In the distance, the sun was setting beyond a city skyline.  There was a distant beachside highway lined with palm trees, store-fronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.  The stranger thing is we could hear gunfire in the distance.

YN: So... I'm guessing by the palm trees and gunfire that we're probably in Florida.

Annabeth: Miami, I think.  But the hippocampi are acting funny.

Sure enough, our fishy friends had slowed down and were whinnying and swimming in circles, sniffing the water.  They didn't look happy.  One of them sneezed.

Percy: This is as far as they'll take us.  Too many humans.  Too much pollution.  We'll have to swim to shore on our own.

YN: Well, have fun with that.

I picked Sarah up bridal style, since she was still waking up.  We thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride.  Tyson cried a little.  He unfastened the makeshift saddle pack he'd made, which contained his tool kit and a couple of other things he'd salvaged from the Birmingham wreck.  He hugged Rainbow around the neck, gave him a soggy mango he'd picked up on the island, and said good-bye.  Once the hippocampi's white manes disappeared into the sea, the others swam for shore.  I glided above them, and in no time we were back in the mortal world.  We wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations.  Porters bustled around with carts of luggage.  Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed us—six kids dripping wet and looking like they'd just had a fight with a monster—they didn't let on.  Now that we were back among mortals, Tyson's single eye had blurred from the Mist, and Grover had put on his cap and sneakers.  Even the Fleece had transformed from a sheepskin to a red-and-gold high school letter jacket with a large glittery Omega on the pocket.  I walked over to the nearest newspaper box and checked the date on the Miami Herald.  Shit.

YN: June eighteenth.  We've been away from camp ten days!

Clarisse: That's impossible!

But I knew it wasn't.  Time traveled differently in monstrous places.

Grover: Thalia's tree must be almost dead!  We have to get the Fleece back tonight.

Clarisse slumped down on the pavement.

Clarisse: How are we supposed to do that?

Clarisse looked like she was about to cry.  I sighed, stepping forward.

YN: I'll take Clarisse back.  It's her quest, she has to be the one to return the fleece.

Sarah: There's no way you can fly all the way back to camp while carrying someone.

YN: Who said anything about flying?

Grover and Annabeth's eyes widened.

Annabeth: No way.  You're not doing that.

Grover: YN, remember what happened last time?

YN: When I did that I had five other people.  This time I'm just taking one.  It'll be okay, guys.

Sarah threw her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek.

Sarah: You'd better not die.

YN: I can't, remember?

Clarisse: Huh?

YN: Nothing.  Grab my arm.

Annabeth handed her the fleece, and Clarisse grabbed my shoulder.  I closed my eyes, concentrating.