Chapter Text
Percy had often wondered if there was some higher being out there laughing his/her ass off when looking at his life. It had never occurred to him that he would be given an answer to this.
*~*~*
Percy glanced at his watch for something that must have been the hundredth time this past hour. A lot had happened these past months. He was kidnapped, suffered amnesia, befriended Romans, went to Alaska, restored his memory, started a war with the Romans, fought with the Romans against dirtface and her giants. Leo died... Percy had even visited Tartarus…
Percy shook his head, not wanting to be reminded of that hellhole. It had already taken enough from him. But for every day it became harder to not think of it. If it hadn’t been for Annabeth and their friends, he might have lost it…
Annabeth had lost it. And that was the reason he was sitting here, on a bench by a frozen lake in central park.
The first couple of weeks after the battle against dirtface was calm, filled with rebuilding and meetings with the Romans. Then Annabeth’s nightmares had increased. She slept less and less, and she froze every time she saw him, caught up in flashbacks from that place. And finally, he had left the camp. One of them had to leave, and Percy would not take Annabeth’s home from her. But that was back in August, and now Christmas was closing in. The past three and a half months he had traveled, trained. He would never allow himself to lose control again, as he had done down there.
He had been all over the place, seen the world. Most monsters avoided him now, and those who dared to approach him had quickly regretted it. The ability to bend blood might be considered dark and even evil, but Percy hadn’t stopped using it. He hadn’t used it as torture, as he did down there, but he had used it as a quick death for the monsters attacking him or others. He couldn’t really see the difference between cutting their blood flow, a quick death, and cutting them down with Riptide.
Percy glanced at the watch once more. 18.30. Annabeth had agreed to meet him 17.00 and he had come 15 minutes early. He had waited in the cold for 1 hour and 45 minutes. Percy sighed; she wasn’t coming.
Percy was about to rise from the bench when a noise caught his attention. A piece of advice for the future, if you hear a weird noise think 'what would Percy do?' and do the opposite. Percy turned around and headed toward the sound
As of what he found, that was difficult to explain. A boy, maybe 14-15 years old, with a blue hoodie, no shoes, white hair, blue eyes, and a staff fighting a black horse, eh, erase that. Fighting a black horse made of dust, who looked like something from a nightmare. And… were they floating in the air? Percy considered absently if the boy might be a son of Zeus/Jupiter. He abounded that though quickly. The air surrounding both Thalia and Jason was almost buzzing, like you could get hit by lighting any second, though in Thalia's case that was mostly true. This boy felt cold. Maybe he’s a child of Boreas? No, that didn’t quite fit. The boy didn’t just feel cold. It was also something else, something that Percy couldn’t quite pinpoint. Not quite happiness, but close enough.
Percy was dragged out of his musing when the boy tried to hit the horse with the staff and the staff went right through the horse. The horse let out an angry puff of smoke, and then it attacked. Percy himself had never been struck by a horse, because they all adored him and called him master or boss (thank you Black Jack), but he could imagine quite well how it was. And he did wince symptomatically when the boy hit a tree a couple of feet behind him. He had been thrown at his fair share of trees when training with Thalia, Jason or (especially) Annabeth.
It took him just a second to decide. He stepped in between the horse and the boy and asked, “Need some help?” He wasn’t quite sure who exactly he asked. The boy looked nice enough, weird, but nice. And the horse did look like something taken from a nightmare, but then again his father was Poseidon, the god and the creator of horses.
The boy looked oddly at Percy, “You can see me?” Percy frowned at the boy, “Of course I can see you. You’re standing right there, pretty hard to miss with white hair and all.”
Percys focus moved from the boy to the horse when he, definitely he, moved closer to him. The horse observed him curiously for a moment. Percy relaxed his muscles to show himself as no threat, while the boy did the opposite and stiffened, bracing himself for a fight.
Percy ignored the boy and met the horses' pitch-black eyes. “Hey there,” he said, his voice low and soothing, “What’s your name?” The horse considered him for a moment before bowing, ‘I do not own a name, master.’
Percy smiled slightly, thinking of Black Jack and him always calling him ‘Boos’. It had been some time since he and Black Jack had been out flying together. “Don’t call me master, please.” The horse nodded his head, ‘What do you wish for me to call you then?’ Percy grinned, “You may call me Percy, that’s what all - most of my friends call me.” Percy frowned slightly, “Actually, it’s what everyone who doesn’t wish to see me dead calls me.”
The horse smiled at him, yes horses can smile, it’s just hard to tell, ‘Then I shall call you Percy since I do not wish for your death.’
Percy took slowly a step toward the horse and laid his palm against his nose, much like in the movie How to train your dragon, a movie Leo had made the crew see while on Agro. Then there was a bright light that forced him to look away.
When Percy once again laid his eyes on the horse, his appearance had changed. The horse wasn't made of dust and fright anymore, but shadow and light, water and ice.
The horse bowed for Percy once more, ‘I am forever in your debt Percy, son of Poseidon. If you are ever in need of me all you have to do is call upon me and I will be there. If I could ask you a favor, tell Frost that I am sorry for my rather rude behavior. I am afraid I was not in my right mind. Till we meet again, master of mine.’
And the horse who still did not own a name disappeared in a flash of bright light. In the back of his mind, Percy thought the light reminded him of the light that always occurred when the gods flashed out.
Percy chuckled slightly at his last words. He had a feeling the horse has said it just to irritate him, and maybe to show him that he had achieved his loyalty.
And then Percy remembered the whitehaired floating boy. His gaze snapped to the boy whose mouth formed an O. Percy couldn’t help the slight chuckle and the words soon followed, “Close your mouth, you might catch flies.”
The boy's mouth snapped shut, opened and closed yet again, obviously lost for words. Finally, the boy managed to ask, “What happened?” Percy tried to not laugh, he really did, but it was near impossible, “Isn't it obvious? I had a nice conversation with the nameless horse, a bright light, and his appearance was changed.” Percy paused for a moment, letting the words sink in for a boy to not overwhelm him, though he doubted it helped, never had for him. Then he asked, “Who's your parent? You’re obviously a half-blood, but I can't place you in a cabin at Camp Half-blood. Are you Roman? Or maybe Egyptian? Norse?”
“What are you talking about?” the boy squeaked. Had it been any other day then Percy would have laughed, but now he was distracted by finding answers. If he wasn’t a demigod, “Are you a clear-sighted? Seen weird unfathomable things since you were little?” The boy still seemed confused by what Percy was talking about. He sighed, I’m making it worse. He remembered when he was dragged into this world, both with Greeks and Romans, not to mention Norse and Egyptians. “Let’s start over,” he said, “My name is Percy Jackson. What’s yours?” “Jack Frost,” he answered. Percy facepalmed, “Please say you were named after that frost-guy,” But there was no hope. He already knew the answer and it explained too much. He ran his hand through his hair, a habit he had picked up, “What’s next? Santa Claus?” Of course, he jinxed it. It was at that moment that he saw the flying sled.