A PJO/MR Crossover (Sidenote: I wrote this story when I was 16. It is kind of cringey and cliche, so read at your own risk)
During a date with Annabeth after the Giant War, mysterious men kidnap Percy Jackson. Injured and near death, the two are ca...
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Percy POV I waited at the infirmary exit, where I saw Annabeth leaving with the child before the fight. It would surely be the place of her return. If not that, the most possible.
Campers went in and out carrying injured persons inside, nectar and ambrosia, or other needed supplies. I made sure to stay out of the way by the side of the tent. Moans, grunts, cries, and screaming came from inside. The sounds were penetrating through the thin walls. I failed to block them out and felt a certain nausea creep in from it.
My ADHD protested against being still. The will to stay put diminished as more time passed. I didn't want to go in such a place, where I knew Raven rested somewhere in the mix. However, my legs had a mind of their own.
Demigods stared at me when I entered, including some of the injured. They were still reeling after my altercation with Zeus, or the fight in itself. Not everyone saw the spectacle, but it was enough to create gossip.
Rumors in Camp Half Blood spread like wildfire.
I felt the stares in my back as people went about there duties. Huddles of campers sat by dead loved ones, crying silently. Katie Gardner held the hand of one of her half-brothers, clearly upset.
She didn't acknowledge me when I passed.
I kept going until the line of deceased ended, just so I could look over all them. White sheets covered their faces, so names were attached in a slip on each bedpost. They were written in Ancient Greek so our dyslexia wouldn't cause any problems.
Drew Tanaka.
Holly Victor.
The names flew around in my head. I knew of some, had spoken with others.
Isaac Schuster.
Lou Ellen Blackstone.
I halted when I came across one of the Seven. Somehow, I hadn't sensed his presence when walking in. Or I had did him, but decided to ignore him out of fear of what it meant.
Jason Grace sat by himself, with his head leaning on the chest of a white sheet. His hair almost looked dirty blonde from all of the dirt. He lifted his head from its place, exposing his puffy cheeks and watering eyes. I randomly wondered how someone so grief-stricken could still suggest such a masculine aura.
I went over to the bedpost. The two words confirmed my fears.
Piper McLean.
"Jason..." I said somberly. The rest of the words couldn't come out after a powerful wave of numbness. I put a hand on his shoulder, reliving the moments and conversations I ever had with Piper, still in a state of disbelief. I had always found the way she laughed adorable, now that I thought about. She was different from most children of Aphrodite. The guilt added a crushing weight. I knew Jason wanted a future with her, just like Annabeth and I.
