Chapter Text
When he was born, Sally knew he was different. Different like his father, not truly a part of the mortal world. And, like his father, her child would have to fight many a monster.
Sally had already known this, but when she looked down at her baby with too sharp teeth and too old eyes, she realised that she would have to fight for both their lives. And she would, she would fight tooth and nail to protect him.
Luckily the mist hid her baby’s teeth from the nurse, no mortal child should have teeth this young. But what to call her child?
Sally wanted him to have a happy ending, not like the heroes before him.
Except, Perseus. Perseus had a happy ending, and she could overlook the fact that he was Zeus’ son.
Perseus, no Percy, cooed in her arms. He opened his eyes for the first time and Sally gasped.
They were sea green, the colour of the deepest parts of the sea and they were shot through with gold. Sally then realised that he was far more God than human. Except Poseidon was also the Father of Monsters, and it showed in Percy. Although Percy was far less monstrous than some of his brethren.
Sally left soon after, not wanting to draw any monsters to a hospital.
-Time skip-
Sally was bloodied, her clothes torn. Her breathing was sharp and jagged as she raced through alleys and backstreets. Percy was clutched tightly to her chest, only a few months old.
She hid behind a dumpster, crouching low. The baying of the hellhounds grew nearer, and then passed her hiding spot. She let out a sigh of relief, stood up, and called a cab.
-Time skip-
She had been travelling along this road for five of days now, and there had been no monster attacks. She had never lasted two days without a monster attack, let alone nearly a week. Although Sally was apprehensive, she let herself take advantage of the quiet to rest.
She sat on the grassy bank next to the road, once she might’ve worried about getting grass stains on her jeans. She laughed, her jeans were beyond recognisable now.
She had been on the run for five months now, and she had prayed to Poseidon so many times for help. But it never came; of course, she knew why he couldn’t directly help her. But still, the help didn’t have to be direct. It could just be a pointer to a place that would be safe for Percy.
Percy stirred in her arms, whimpering slightly. Sally rocked him slightly, humming a song she couldn’t quite remember the words to.
Then the world went silent, in the woods the birds stopped singing. Sally stood up, warily looking around her.
She began to run down the road, hoping against hope that there would be somewhere to hide.
Then the world exploded into noise, hellhounds jumped out of the shadows and started to chase her. Percy started to scream, high, unearthly and a magnet for every monster in a mile radius.
Cursing, Sally sprinted away from the hellhounds, their breath hot on her heels.
Then one managed to bite the back of her calf, and a shriek escaped her. Her screams mixed with Percy’s, fear and pain painting the air.
Sally carried on running, though it sent pain shooting up her leg with every step. Crying now, she ran along the last stretch of road.
There was a shop, Sally let out of a sob of relief, somewhere for her to rest. The courtyard was filled with statues, and it was called ‘Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium’.
Aunty Em…
M,
Medusa maybe? It would make sense, especially with the statues outside. Sally just had to hope that Medusa would help them.
She knocked on the door, and put Percy down behind her. She faced off the hellhounds, they were bounding towards her, slobber swinging in great globs from their mouths. Sally started to cry again, she knew that this might be the end for her. She might never have a chance to see Percy grow up, never get a chance to see the man he will become.
So, faced with her own mortality, Sally cried.
She drew a dagger out of her jean pocket and unsheathed it, If she was going to die, she’d go down protecting her child. She bared her teeth and lunged at the nearest hell hound, a whirlwind of sharp edges and snarls.
She had become a lot more feral in the past months, it was necessary for the survival of herself and Percy.
She jumped onto the hellhound’s back and it bucked, trying to throw her off. She gritted her teeth and held on, climbing up its back by stabbing the knife into it and dragging herself up.
Her one leg was a dead weight now, and her head was going fuzzy from blood loss. But she could still hear Percy’s crying from behind her, and that spurred her on. She had to kill this hellhound, if not for herself then for Percy.
She carried on stabbing and pulling, stabbing and pulling until she was at the hellhound’s head. She gripped onto its ears and swung her legs until she was straddling its head. Then she stabbed its eye.
Blood squirted out and the hellhound howled. Sally felt a grim satisfaction in hurting the thing that was chasing her, even though she took no happiness from killing. The hellhound’s eye was a mangled mess of blood and shredded eyeball.
Then it charged at the wall, Sally almost went flying at the impact but stayed on the hellhound. The hellhound shook its head, and charged again at the wall. Pain shot up her leg as it was jolted around and a yell escaped her lips.
She let go of one ear and plunged her dagger into the hellhound’s head. With a long, piercing howl, it disintegrated into dust. She hit the ground with a thud, and looked at her leg for the first time. It was covered in blood and had a very clear bite mark in it. Then the other hellhounds noticed that one of their own had gone.
Sally slowly moved in front of Percy, facing the hellhounds all the while. She wasn’t sure if she could take on two more hellhounds with her bloodied leg, but she had to try.
Both of the hellhounds pounced on her, scratching and biting. She stabbed them in quick succession, managing to make one dissolve into dust. The remaining hellhound growled, even angrier now that its two companions had died.
It swiped at her, knocking her off her feet. Sally groaned, clutching her ribs. She was pretty sure a few were broken. She stood up and glared at it, clutching her dagger in her hand.
It started circling her, a low growl building in its throat.
She staggered, blood loss finally registering. Then the door flew open and the hellhound swiped at her eyes. Pain shot across her face and she murmured “Please look after him.” Then she blacked out.
-Gone back in time a few hours-
Medusa put the kettle on to brew, it was eight in the morning and she needed the caffeine.
Since her time in Britain, tea had grown on her. She was a little addicted to the drink to be honest, however there only the British tea was acceptable as proper tea was hard to come by in America.
Her latest stock of PG Tips had come in just today, it was one month late which had made Medusa very upset. But at least she had tea now. The morning light filtered through her curtains, and lit her kitchen dimly.
Her snakes hissed and curled around her head, far more awake than she was before she had her first cup of tea of the day.
Sinking into a comfy old armchair, it was the ugliest thing she owned but also the most comfortable chair in her house, she started writing in her journal.
She was writing what had happened to her all those years ago, one day she would publish it and show all those other girls who had been raped that they weren’t alone. But currently it was very slow going.
-Time skip-
Three hours later she was posting some of her statues, caught up in the repetitive motion, when she heard a scream.
Medusa dropped the statue, and it shattered all over the floor. It was one of her better works, and was going to sell for quite a lot. As she sweeped it up, she wondered who on earth was screaming. It had been a while since a demigod had stumbled across her emporium and now she thought about it, it had been two screams. The scream of a baby and of an adult.
She would not interfere though, unless they came to her door. More often than not, her help was rewarded by a trip to Tartarus. If they came to her though, then she would be honour bound to help them.
Funny how a monster had more honour than the Gods.
Somebody started pounding on the door, and Medusa froze. She could hear the baying of hellhounds and the squawls of a child.
Where was her veil, she raced through the house. Where was it?
Oh right, she had left it in her bedroom. Crashing into her bedroom, she grabbed the veil and secured it over her snakes. They hissed, disliking being covered.
She could hear the person screaming now, and the howls of pain. Whoever this is, they seem to be holding their own against the monsters. She thought as she sprinted through her house.
She paused as she got to the front door, what if they killed her? She didn’t want to go to Tartarus again.
But no, she would help them. Steeling herself, she opened the door to the strangest sight. On her doorstep, a child who smelt of the sea, and in front of them a woman with blood pouring down her leg.
She grabbed the child and brought it into the house, then she pulled the woman back by her t shirt as the hellhound swiped at her eyes.
“Please look after him.” Was all the woman said before blacking out.
The baby in her arms started cooing, playing with a snake that had snuck out from beneath her hat. Medusa smiled as she looked down at him, he was so innocent and young.
But still, he smelt of sea salt and storms. And when he opened his eyes, they were just like his father’s.
Although the woman had asked for Medusa to take care of him, so she would. With that sorted, she turned her attention to the woman. She was pale under her tan from blood loss and still had blood pouring down her leg and all over her face.
She seemed to be mortal though, so Medusa couldn’t feed her nectar and ambrosia. She put the baby down on a armchair and half carried, half dragged the woman to the sofa.
Where was her med kit, it had been a while since she had used it. Maybe it was in her attic…
Five minutes later, Medusa entered the living room again with her med kit in hand. There were also a lot of cobwebs stuck to her snakes.
She started humming as she cleaned the leg wound, she would have guests. She wouldn’t be alone anymore.
The leg wound had been dressed, and the scratches on her face had been cleaned. An evening chill had set in, so she lit the fire. She held the sleeping baby, it was nice that somebody trusted her enough to sleep in her arms. She hadn’t been a recipient of trust for longer than she could remember.
The fire crackled and spat, lighting the room in a soft glow and making shadows dance across the wall. It was a pity though, the woman and child wouldn’t stay for long when they found out who she was.
Although, they might have to. The woman’s leg would take a while to heal, and the scratches on her face were right over the eyes. She didn’t know how deep they went, but they could’ve rendered the woman blind.
But for now, she would enjoy the company of other people and deal with the rest in the morning.
The baby yawned to show teeth that were too sharp, too many. Claws sprang out of his hands as he whined, his dreams probably weren’t the nicest.
Medusa started to drift of, the coziness of the room making her sleepy. Well it wouldn’t hurt to get some sleep, she would need to be awake for her guests in the morning.