My story | PJO x male reader

Chapter 3: This is a Dream...right?(Rewrite)

The first thing I noticed was the ceiling.

Wooden beams. Rough. Smelled like dust and mint. Too clean to be a hospital, too weird to be a school. And quiet-except for the voices.

I kept my eyes closed.

"His vitals stabilized around midnight," someone said. "No sign of venom. Just those cuts."

Another voice, lower and calmer: "He shouldn't be alive after taking a Fury claw to the leg."

"Technically a Fury-lite," a third voice cut in, dry and disinterested. "Still unpleasant. Still deadly. But, let's not exaggerate."

My dad's voice came last. Tight. Careful. "He's tougher than he looks."

The bed creaked under me as I shifted just a little. They were close-standing around me. I could feel their attention.

Someone asked, "Where has he been all this time?"

My dad paused. "Home. With me."

"He's been off the grid for years," the calm voice said. "No reports. One satyr alert. That isn't normal."

The first voice scoffed. "Did you know Mike was down there? I thought he was put on leave since the whole Declan fiasco."

"He didn't even ping the border," the dry voice added. "And I know why."

"Don't start," the first voice warned.

"Start what?" said the dry one. "I'm just saying. The only way a demigod goes dark that long is divine interference."

"Meaning?" asked the calm one.

"He was cloaked. Protected."

"And who would bother to do that?"

Silence.

Then someone asked, carefully, "Who's his mother?"

More silence.

My dad exhaled through his nose. "That's not my answer to give."

That woke me up more than anything.

I opened my eyes.

Four men stood around me-one I knew.

"Dad," I said, voice scratchy.

He stepped forward fast. "Hey-hey, kid. Easy. You're okay."

No. I wasn't.

The pain hadn't hit yet, but everything else had. Strange place. Unknown faces. My heart kicked hard against my ribs.

The man to my right was tall, almost regal, in a battered old jacket and shirt that looked like it belonged to a soldier who liked flexing. He had a scar down one cheek and eyes that looked like they'd seen every mistake in the book and laughed anyway.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty, Mike told us everything" he grinned. "Nice right hook."

"Don't speak to him like you're his uncle," a man in leopard print muttered. "You met him five minutes ago."

"You jealous, Dion?"

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? Your full name takes four days to say."

Dion rolled his eyes. "Say it with me now. DI...O...NY-"

"I'm already asleep."

"Gentlemen," said the older man between them, clearly the only sane adult. He looked like a high school teacher who'd survived decades of nonsense and, by the wheelchair, barely survived it all. "Now's not the time."