Given to Fly (PJ/MR Crossover)

Book 1: Chapter II

A/N: Thanks for deciding to continue reading this little crossover story I thought up. Here's Percy's point of view for ya!

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Perseus

When I finally came to, my first thought was, "Ow..." This also happened to be my second thought, and my third, and my - well, you get the picture. It felt like I had been run over by a truck - or a Laistrygonian (not the most pleasant experience). My head was reduced to a pile of mashed potatoes, and my mouth was full of cotton. When I could finally piece the shattered puzzle of my mind back together, my next thought was: What the Hades happened?!

I could clearly remember arriving in San Francisco with my girlfriend in the morning via Hellhound Express. After a quick visit to Camp Jupiter to drop off our stuff and say, "hey" to our Roman friends, we had had a quick picnic lunch with Annabeth's family before deciding to spend the rest of the day like normal teenage delinquents our age did: a date.

We had gotten some awesome pizza and were walking to the movie theatre to watch one of the new movies that had recently come out that Annabeth was dying to see when...a dog attacked? No, that wasn't right...It was a hellhound! Yeah, that was it. A huge one too - probably could've eaten Mrs. O'Leary for breakfast (and that's saying something). I had distracted it while Annabeth did her daughter of Athena thing to come up with an amazing plan to finally kill the beast...and then what? I tried to surf through my memories to see what had happened next, but my mind remained steadfastly blank (the stubborn bastard). A tidal wave of nausea swept over me, causing me to groan - migraines were no fun.

"Oh, good. You're finally awake." The sudden voice made me wrench open my eyes, which I regretted, as I was immediately assaulted with enough light to blind a god. If the situation was any different, I might've hissed and shielded my eyes with my elbow like a vampire (or Nico in the morning), but because I had no idea where I was or who was talking to me, that reaction would probably not have gotten me any brownie points, especially if my captor was someone who wanted to kill me.

Pfft, and Annabeth accuses me of not thinking things through.

Oh, and there was that little fact that my arms were currently restrained, so there was that too. I pulled on the thick bindings, but my strength was no match for the stainless steel cuffs secured around my wrists and ankles.

After giving myself a quick pep talk, I opened my eyes - slowly this time. I was greeted with a beautiful, idyllic... white ceiling. My brow furrowed in confusion. I had expected, well... Okay, I didn't know what I was expecting: torture dungeon, underground cave, my apartment? Well, the last one was probably my wishful thinking - I mean, It wasn't like I lived on the other side of the country or anything (note the sarcasm) -, but the point was that a completely white room was definitely not where I expected to be. So, when I found out that was exactly where I had been for who knew how long, my mind froze.

"Hmm," the voice hummed, "You seem to be enjoying your accommodations." It sounded haughty and aloof. My head turned to face the owner of the voice, but when I finally caught a glimpse of the figure to my left, the gears in my head grounded to a halt.

Annabeth?

I internally shook myself. The woman didn't even look like my girlfriend. Instead of Annabeth's golden princess curls, her hair was stick-straight and nearly white. It was pulled back in a tight, professional ponytail that made her angular features even sharper. The nose was wrong too; it was too small and pointy. Her chin was also a bit longer, her eyebrows were plucked to almost nonexistence, and she looked a couple years older. The most notable difference, though, were her eyes. They were slanted, resembling a cat's, and were the color of cold, hard steel. All in all, she looked like a woman who would lose no sleep after murdering someone - might even take pleasure in it.

She quirked one of her non-eyebrows at me, as if urging me to speak. I narrowed my eyes at her but readily obliged. "Where am I?" My voice was scratchy, and I desperately needed some water. This brought forth the question of how long I'd been knocked out for. Was Annabeth worried? Was she even okay? Hopefully whoever - or whatever - grabbed me hadn't gotten her. I then remembered that she'd had her invisibility cap on, so maybe she did escape being captured. I could only hope that-

A disdainful sigh brought me out of my trailing thoughts. "You could have asked any question, and you go with that? 'Where am I?'" She huffed, "Obviously, you are currently restrained in an undisclosed location inside this white containment room. Of course, you could have been more specific, such as, 'What city am I in?' or 'What is building this called?' Your question, however, was just too vague, allowing multiple interpretations of it."

I gritted my teeth; it was like getting a lecture from Athena, the owl-brained goddess of wisdom and my girlfriend's mother. Swallowing a smart-ass remark, I opted for one that might not end with me getting tortured or otherwise. "So, who are you?" Then I remembered her rant and quickly added, "I mean, what's your name?"

"That is slightly better, I guess. My name is Margaretta Lavelle, though what use that information will be to you, I don't know." At least she was willing to talk; I decided to push my luck.

"So, Mags,-"

"Don't call me that."

"What can I call you then? Margie? Madge? Or are you more of the Peggy type? I've always wondered where they got Peggy from Margaret. I mean, Peggy starts with a 'P' and-"

"You can call me by my name or Mette, nothing else." Her thin lips were now stretched into a predominant scowl. I had to hold back the smirk that was fighting its way to my face.

"Mette. Hmm, that's a new one for me, but I like it. So, Mette, can you please inform me why you had to crash my date - which is really rude, by the way - and then kidnap me and lock me up in some hospital room?" I knew it wasn't a hospital room, but it had the same feeling - cold, impersonal, clinical. I also knew that I was starting to annoy Mette, but I couldn't really help that. My ADHD was not happy to have me lay still for so long; it felt like ants were crawling up my skin, and I kept fidgeting on the metal bed I was strapped on. Plus, annoying the crazy lady was payback for her ruining my perfectly awesome day.

I got a pointed glare in response. The steel in Mette's eyes visibly hardened until even Riptide wouldn't be able to cut through that metal gaze. She adjusted the collar of her white lab coat (would it kill someone to put some color in this place?) before replying, "I didn't kidnap you. However, the... company that I work for did."

My mind was a hurricane, whirling a mile a minute. Did she say company? What did she mean by that? Her brief pause didn't go unnoticed, either. Maybe she was lying? But the question was, how much was she lying about? Ugh, I wished Annabeth was with me, at least she would have been able to read this woman. Actually, no. I was glad my girlfriend wasn't strapped down in this room with me and this psychopath. I didn't know what I would have done if she'd gotten kidnapped too.

Before my mind could wander too far, I quickly abandoned my line of thinking for a new one. "Fine. What does this company want with me, then?"

A glint suddenly appeared in those calculating, metallic eyes. I'd faced gods, titans, giants - heck, I'd even faced Tartarus himself! - but when I saw that glint, fear sliced through me. "Well, Perseus, isn't that the real question to ask?" As a smile twisted itself upon her face, I came to a realization: I had never told her my name.

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A/N: That's all for now. Any comments are well appreciated! If you feel that any characters are OOC, please tell me why you think so.

~Wrendsor