Chapter Text
His breath steamed in the frigid air of what he assumed would be his new home. He bit back a cough. The cold ripped at his throat every time he dared to inhale. He'd grown used to having a sore throat from near-constant illness, but he hadn't expected the cold to make it worse.
Jason took in a shuddering breath, feeling like his heart was trembling in his chest. He'd likely drop dead within the week. It was cold and he could tell he was sick again and he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. His fingertips were blue. They'd been blue for a long time now.
And yet he still trudged on.
Across the street, he saw a young girl with antlers tug on her mother’s sleeve and point at him before asking her mother something. The girl gestured at her pointed ears and antlers, a trait shared by many beings of this odd world, seemingly questioning why Jason did not have those. Her mother eyed him suspiciously and told her daughter something. The girl nodded and glanced at him again before hiding behind her mother.
Jason huffed out a sigh and moved on. His feet hurt. His head did too. As did every other part of his body.
Was death preferable to this? Absolutely. But something kept him from lying down and succumbing to the cold.
Snow crunched under his feet, seeping through his shoes and freezing his toes until they were so numb it hurt. He wasn't sure where he intended to go, but he kept moving. Maybe he'd find warmth in his final moments when he finally keeled over.
Vomit bubbled up in his throat. He wondered if he'd get fined for puking in public and swallowed it back. It wasn't like he had much to puke up anyway.
He came across a bench. He was tired. He needed to sleep. But the bench had arm rests separating it into a bench for three different people, and he didn't want to figure out how to maneuver his body so he could sleep comfortably.
More walking then. Jason put his trembling hands to his mouth and breathed on them. His breath was only slightly less cold than the air around him.
He had a knife strapped to his waist, hidden beneath his bloodstained dress shirt. It sliced into his skin. He felt so numb he didn't notice it until blood started seeping through the white fabric.
When he finally came to a stop, he gazed at a river that was somehow still gurgling along despite the snow drifting from the sky. He’d heard that it was a strange phenomenon in… Cynthius, the goddess had called it.
That goddess… ugh, it hurt his head to think about not only the existence of another pantheon, but also another world. The goddess who'd brought him here had told him about some prophecy, how she'd been watching him, how she'd made a deal with Hades, blah blah blah, yada yada yada… he'd tuned it all out after she told him her name. Her name was Disephone, wasn't it? He'd see if he could get into a library and read something on the gods of this world later. Assuming he didn't die.
A few weeks ago, when Jason had been dragged into her domain, she'd said something about wishing she’d saved him before it had been too late. He didn't know what she meant. He was too tired to think about it.
He collapsed to the ground. Disephone had told him that if he were in a bad spot, he could pray for her assistance, but he'd been muttering prayers under his breath the whole day, and yet nothing had went right. He was still waiting for a sign that his prayers hadn't went unanswered.
Jason sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He didn't want to be upright, but if someone saw him unmoving on the riverbank, they'd probably call 911… or whatever the emergency number here was. If there even was one. He curled up with his knees against his chest.
He stared up at the full moon. He silently prayed to Artemis for Thalia’s safety. He added a prayer to whatever here-god would listen that Artemis would receive his previous prayer.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there for. Long enough for it to be a struggle to keep his eyes open.
Despite his exhaustion, he was rudely jolted to full consciousness by a voice ringing out from behind him. “Hey, kid!”
It was the voice of a woman who'd smoked a little too much over the years. He turned his head to see a woman of about thirty approaching, brushing jet black hair out of her sharp brown eyes. Her ears were long and pointed, like most people he'd seen here. Jason wondered how they kept their ears warm in the winter.
“Kid.” She quickened her pace until she was right in front of him, kneeling down to his level. “What’re you doing out here?”
Jason glanced around him as if he wasn't the only person she could have been addressing. “Me?”
“Yeah, you. It's real cold out. The hell are you doing, dressed like that in below-freezing weather?” The woman looked him over. Her eyebrows pinched together in an expression of worry when she saw how cut up he was. “Do you not have anywhere to go? No warmer clothes?”
Jason hesitated before he shook his head. “No, I… I don't.”
She clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Can't believe it…”
“What?”
“Nothing. Sorry, wasn't talking to you with that.” She slipped her coat off of her shoulders and draped it around Jason’s. “Just, you look super young, and I'm a little disappointed that it looks like no one’s helped you out. Lemme guess, you’re fourteen at most?”
Jason stared at her for a moment before he realized that her estimate was completely sincere. “No. I’m sixteen.”
“Yeesh. Guess I really ain’t good at guessing ages.” She squinted at him. He caught the smell of old cigarette smoke being drowned by five tons of laundry detergent on her clothes. “I thought you were just a tall middle schooler.”
“I am not.” Jason seized the coat and tried to give it back to her, but she pushed his hand back.
“Uh-uh. You look like you'll die if a slightly colder breeze hits you.” She readjusted the coat around his shoulders. The smell of cigarettes was really starting to give him a headache. “What's your name, kid?”
Jason hesitated. As nice as she seemed, he didn't want to tell her anything more than he already had.
She simply nodded. “Ah, you're that kinda kid. I get it. I was too when I was your age. Tell you what, if it makes ya feel better, I’ll tell you my name first. That sounds good?”
“Sure,” Jason blurted out before he could think. If introducing himself meant he'd get a brief moment of warmth from another living being, he was willing to do anything. Gods, he just wanted to feel someone hug him. But he refused to admit it to this oddly nice lady who smelled like smoke.
“Got it. Name’s Andra.” Andra smiled at him. A light shiver went through her body. “How ‘bout you?”
“…Jason.” He really hoped she wouldn't leave after this interaction. “Are you going to—”
“You're bleeding,” she interrupted. She hesitated before letting her hand brush against his bleeding side. Jason winced at the contact. “You need help with that?”
He hesitated yet again. “I—I…” He shook his head. “Yeah. Please.”
“Alright, I got you.” Andra helped him to his feet and started walking with her hand on his shoulder.
Jason drew her very long coat tighter around his shoulders. It provided him adequate warmth. The fleece inside was trying its best to trap the little body heat he carried. Andra seemed to notice he didn't have much warmth to conserve and pulled him a little closer as if to share the warmth.
He barely processed it. The two of them entered a warmer area—a store, he realized—where Andra argued with someone. Judging by the satisfied look on her face, she'd gotten what she wanted. She grabbed a basket and led him to an aisle where she grabbed bandages, ointment, and other things before placing them in the basket and going to check out. She paid with odd spherical coins that jingled in her purse.
The lady at the counter frowned. “Andra, how many times do I need to tell you? Quit grabbing random orphans off the street.”
Ah. So this wasn't just a one-time thing for her.
Andra simply shrugged and hung the bag on her arm. “Maybe you should consider having empathy.”
“If empathy means going broke on kids who would rather be dead than be around you, I don't think I want it.”
“Suit yourself. Come on, Jason, we gotta get you patched up.” Jason nodded quickly and followed her out of the store.
“Hey, you!” He froze in his tracks as the cashier called out for him. Andra groaned and stopped walking as well.
“Yeah?” He turned around to see that she was looking at him with a rather bored expression.
“You look pretty confused by all this stuff. You from Lunarene or something?”
Jason blinked. Loo-na-re-ney, she’d said? “Huh?”
The cashier muttered something under her breath. “Humans from Lunarene are pretty clueless about everything when they move countries. Not trying to be mean, just wondering.”
“Um…” Jason eyed her, wondering if he should just go with it. “I—”
“Whitney, I swear to all that is holy, I need you to stop,” Andra grumbled. “No one cares where he's from, what matters is that—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Whitney checked her nails. “You two have a nice day. And, kid? Don't worry about Andra. She just does this stuff for no reason. I don't get it, but who asked me?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, come on Jason.” Andra pulled him to the exit.
"W—wait, what was she—?”
“In Lunarene, humans are disgustingly undereducated. The government there still hasn't gotten over something four guys did hundreds of years ago, so now all humans there have to deal with worse education and needing an elf, Magice, or Mothalus to hold their hand everywhere they go.” Andra rolled her eyes. “I get that it's messed up, what the first few of you guys who got here did, but there’s no reason to ruin the country’s reputation.”
Jason's head spun with all the information she just gave him. Magice? Mothalus? The hell were those? He'd definitely need to read up on the species here.
Andra stopped beneath the awning of a bus stop. She paused so suddenly that Jason nearly crashed into her.
“Hey, sit down.” She tried to guide him down to the bench, but Jason felt his face heat up and he pushed her hand away.
“I can do it myself,” he muttered, face red from embarrassment.
“Sorry.” Andra stood beside him. She eyed the bloodstain on his shirt. “You just don't look like you're doing very well. You're real skinny.”
Jason refrained from saying anything. Instead, he glanced down at himself. He'd definitely lost weight. His stomach was trying to eat itself. He hoped that maybe, once he was patched up and somewhere warm, he'd feel a bit more human.
His stomach growled. Andra sat down beside him.
“Hey, how ‘bout this? Once I've gotten you all patched up and cleaned up, I get you some food and warmer clothes? Maybe even give you some pocket money? That sound good?” She looked him over again and seemed even more concerned.
Jason considered the offer. Was it risky to trust some random lady who apparently had a habit of doing stuff like this? Absolutely. Was he desperate enough?
…Yes. He was.
“Please.” Jason could tell that he looked desperate and desolate to her. Her eyes softened.
“Alright. I hear you loud and clear.”
They fell into a comfortable silence after Andra spoke. Jason nearly fell asleep a few times.
After an eternity of waiting, the bus screeched to a halt in front of the stop. Andra helped Jason get on before plopping herself down into a seat. He just about collapsed into the seat next to her.
The rumbling of the bus as it started moving again mixed with his prior exhaustion and the sound of the engine lulled him to sleep.