(UNDER EDITING) The One Who Never Speaks- a Percy Jackson Betrayed Fanfic

III. Done

He was done.

Done with it all. 

Camp Half-Blood.

War.

The gods.

Faith.

His life as a doll.

Loyalty. 

All of it.

It was pointless. Stupid. He had admittedly learned something, about himself, about his flaw. That, if loyalties weren't mutual, if one side wasn't loyal to him. Then he could be disloyal.

Lies.

Bullshit. He could have no loyalty for them, but even now, he couldn't hate them. Not completely. While he may actively feel nothing towards them, his soul, his very being disagreed.

And it was tearing him to shreds.

So, led by sorrow and guilt.

He left.

But, being a child of Poseidon with some serious ADHD and a martyr complex, he left the camp with nothing on his back but the clothes he was wearing and the sword in his pocket. By the time he had realized this, it was too late to turn back.

And that was how he had ended up here, fighting a horde (Pack? Group? Swarm? Guzzle- not important,) of Dracaena- and losing. He had no ambrosia, no medical supplies, no backup. 

No will. Really, he could hardly find the will to fight. He had no one left, sure his mother was still around, but she was happy with her daughter and Paul, he didn't want to barge in. It's not like he'd be able to explain-

Even if he did chose to write it down on paper- He wouldn't be able to explain. How could he explain to his mother that the gods, That Poseidon, his very own father, held him down against his will and forced him to be separated from his voice in such a way. He couldn't do that to his mother- and selfishly- he didn't want to relive that moment anymore then he already did. 

He dodged the slash from a blade, parrying and slamming the hilt of his own sword down on the monsters wrist, forcing them to drop the blade. He swung his own downwards, severing her writhing snake legs from her body before she burst into dust. 

Somehow, he'd managed to gain the will to win against them. Likely an odd sense of pride for himself. Imagine, the great Perseus Jackson taken down by a horde of Dracaena. 

He capped Riptide and let out a wheezily silent breath, his larynx still chugging along just a bit. 

He never had the chance to defend himself when he was hit on the back of the head, and brought back into the horrors of Morpheus' realm.

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The first thing he became aware of was the feeling of crumbling wet cobble stone. The acrid air stung his nose, the humidity coating him in a thin sheen of dew. 

He grunted softly and pushed himself into a sitting position, but immediately closed his eyes and leaned back, clutching his head as his vision swam. 

Fuck. Ow-

He sat there for a minute or two- and once he was sure his head wasn't going to explode- he opened his eyes. 

Yep. Another gross cell. What else was new. Oh hey- he wasn't chained up! That was different!

 Continuing to examine the cell and become acquainted with the resident spider in the back corner, he didn't notice when the cell door opened. 

A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and squeezed. Obviously, anyone who was recently kidnapped would assume this was in fact not a hug- but an attempt of murder. 

And- like any sane person would do. and Jackson liked to think he was decently sane- Grabbed the attackers arms tightly and rolled so their positions were flipped, before quickly uncapping his sword- and swinging-

"Wait!" 

He paused- generally not the smart thing to do but hey- serious concussion and swinging around like that was not helping. After a moment the attacker- a female- didn't say anything more, he resumed his attempt in stabbing the bitches eye out.

When of course- because nothing went his way- he was oh so rudely yanked off of the attacker by battle worn hands. That were- by comparison, much larger than his own. 

Immediately all his years of training went out the window and he went to the basics. 

Kicking the fucker in the balls. 

With a loud grunt of pain, Percy was dropped. He immediately stood up, blinking spots out of his vision, and shakily gripped Riptide. He was in no condition to fight. And really didn't want to, but hey- survival instincts are a bitch. 

"Wait! Wait Hold up!" The female shouted, "Don't stab me- us-! Us! We come in peace-"

He snorted, though- not really. 'Sure- because knocking someone out and kidnapping them just screams peace.'

"I told you that wasn't a good Idea!" The male hissed.

"Well how should I have known! I don't ask for help!" 

"Common sense woman!"

"Oh really?" she sneered, cocking her hip, "Then why didn't you stop me oh wise one?-"

Annnnd Percy had enough of this. He sighed and hit his sword against the wall with a clang, drawing his kidnappers' attention. 

He raised an eyebrow unimpressed. 'Who are they and what the hell did they want with me.' He thought, obviously they were gods. But who? He'd never seen them before. 

The man coughed awkwardly into his fist. "Right- uh- So. You're Percy Jackson." Obviously. "That's- Order- ironically- and I'm Chaos- could you come with us please?"

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Edited: July 8th, 2020