Who the hell thought making me a Half-blood was a good idea? {ON HOLD}

Act Two-Here's to funky apples and drugging people; I'm not a weirdo, I swear!

Disclaimer: The world of Percy Jackson, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of Rick Riordan and his publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

Trigger Warning for Aftermath of a Meltdown/Panic Attack and Non-Consensual Drugging.

If you ever get stuck having to explain your mental health to someone you know is a traitor and a spy, I recommend giving up all pretences and fucking booking it. Of course, I never follow my own advice, so don't look into it too closely.

"Is this better now, Percy?" Luke actually seemed concerned about me. He certainly sounded like it.

"Five more minutes," I say almost breathlessly.

Five more minutes to figure out a game-plan for 'how the fuck do I play off my plotting for his downfall as the lieutenant of the Titan King.' How do I keep getting into situations like this? Oh, right, my meltdown. Inconvenient fucker.

Time seemed to tick along so slowly I almost thought Kronos was up to his old tricks. Taking a deep breath, then another, and another, I managed to calm myself. Right, if I want to convince Luke that I have no idea about his 'extracurricular activities', I just have to convince myself that I have no idea about them! Ha! The placebo effect at work. Is it placebo? That is how it works, right?

"I'm sorry about that." Did I know that logically I shouldn't be apologising for this because it's not my fault? Yes. Did I have a lifetime of conditioning that makes me think I owe others an apology and an explanation for my mental illness? Also yes. "I'm autistic. Everything was already so much and she touched me without my permission, I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey, hey, slow down," Luke said, raising his hands as if he was trying to soothe a startled horse. Gee, why does he keep doing that? "It's okay, you did nothing wrong, stop apologising."

"Sorry," I said out of reflex and then blushed.

He laughed softly at that, "It's okay, y'know? This probably isn't the first time we've had an Autistic camper, though it is the first time in my years here. We'd be a horrible camp if we could cater to ADHD kids but not Autistic ones, despite them being sister disorders. Does Chiron know about this?"

"Yeah, he taught at my school for a while," I replied.

"Wait, your school? Is that where he went for all this time?"

Shit. Luke didn't know about this. This has heavy implications that I'm an important Big Three kid. Fuck. I can practically see the little butterfly pop-up saying, 'This action will have consequences.' Seriously, who left me in charge of something as important as saving the world?

The Fates thought so, and if they thought so, then it must be true, right?

"Uh, yeah. He was my Latin teacher for some time. I was having fun driving him slowly insane."

Luke took the bait. "Slowly insane?" he repeated.

I gave him a shy smile. "I got annoyed at him treating me like a little kid and not taking me seriously, so I started acting up to passively-aggressively drive him to insanity; stole his doorstops, moved the bins which forced him to move in order to use them, asked for sources on things that are common knowledge, wrote an essay four times longer than he asked for, told him I wrote gullible on the ceiling so he wouldn't look up but I actually did write it on the ceiling. Little things."