𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 𝗗𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗
⚖︎
Jackie Karev has been different for her entire life. Even in the orphanage, she was the odd one out.
She just wasn't expecting to find her people at military school, of all places.
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𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗙𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛 the boar ride from hell, Marielle woke up. It wasn't a loud noise that alerted Jackie to her consciousness, but a quiet gasp, like she'd gotten startled and done her very best to not react. Her hand twitched once in Jackie's grasp, then fell completely still.
"Marielle?" Jackie whispered.
"Jackie," Marielle answered, a little awkwardly. She sounded confused, maybe because she'd woken up pinned between Percy and Jackie, arms wrapped around Jackie's waist, on the back of a giant, murderous boar. ". . .Percy's sleeping on me."
Or not. Maybe the most confusing thing about the whole situation was the mundane. Jackie guessed that demigods had to be ready for anything crazy to happen during a quest, so when something that would be normal to the rest of the world occurred, it threw them for a loop.
"Should I wake him up?" Jackie could feel Marielle shift slightly behind her, but she took great care to not move her hand, almost like she didn't want to call any attention to it. That was fine. Jackie didn't really want to think about it too much.
Instead, she shook her head. Her hair was still blond, and Jackie wondered what it looked like in the dying sunlight of the American southwest. "No," she whispered back. She probably needed to speak up, considering she was facing away from Marielle, but she couldn't bring herself to. Thalia was dozing in front of her, jerking awake every couple of seconds to avoid passing out on the back of the boar. Percy was unconscious too, and after their very stressful morning, Jackie didn't want to wake him up.
"You should sleep, too," Jackie offered. She remembered Marielle's wound well–too well. It had only been a couple of hours since she'd passed out midair, and she could use more rest. That's what the doctors prescribed, wasn't it? Bedrest and medicine? Jackie couldn't help but think that any licensed professional would have an aneurysm if they watched how poorly Marielle was taking care of her wound. And how poorly they'd treated it to begin with. Running immediately after getting shot–Jackie couldn't believe they'd done that.
"I literally just woke up," Marielle reminded her. Doctors hate you, Jackie despaired. "Besides, I'm mostly healed, I think. I could use a bit more ambrosia, and I'll take a look at it once we stop."
"Bianca cleaned and rebandaged it for you," Jackie informed her. "After you tackled me and Thalia off a cliff."
Somehow, despite the fact that she couldn't see Marielle's face, she knew the girl was smiling.
"Yeah, sorry about all of that," she said. Definitely grinning. "It worked, though, didn't it?"
Jackie huffed, but she couldn't dispute it. Marielle's plan–however well thought out–had gotten them out of the boar's path. With the hand that wasn't intertwined with Marielle's own, Jackie unzipped Thalia's backpack and pulled out her small ziploc of ambrosia.
