The Jacksons (completed): Book 2 - Percy Jackson Fanfiction

~ Chapter Four: NERO

Chapter Four

NERO

"Our parents?" I frowned. "What have they got to do with it all?"

Thalia and Will shared a look, as if to say, How do we put this, exactly?

"We'll show you," Thalia said. She leaned over, and Will did the same for Esme.

"What are you doing?" my sister asked. "Wait, I -"

She went limp as Will touched her. Her body slumped to the floor with a loud clatter. I looked at Thalia and realised she was going to do the same.

"Hey!" I shouted, but it was too late. Thalia's finger prodded my arm, and I felt a whoozy feeling. My body was filled with warmth and coldness all at once, contrasting. Sweat poured down my frozen forehead.

All of this happened in a mere second. And I was unconscious, for the second time in an hour.

*

"ESME!" I yelled. "Where are you?"

I couldn't see. Overwhelming darkness enclosed upon me. I couldn't even see myself. I felt like I was blind.

Silence.

Eerie silence. I stepped forwards, and couldn't even hear myself move. What had just happened?

"Nero? Nero, is that you?"

Our hands touched. Electricity arced through my fingertips and I cried out, but Esme kept a firm grip.

"I can't see," she said. "Can you?"

I shook my head, then felt stupid. "No. I can't."

As I said it, the blackness cleared. We were still holding hands, and I didn't want to let go. We stood at some sort of campfire, with hundreds of kids surrounding us. They ranged from what looked like eight to nineteen, maybe even older. A tiny little boy with a crazy dark afro didn't look more than ten, but he held what looked like an awesome-looking gun in his hands.

Esme seemed to notice, too. "What the hell?" she muttered.

I nudged her, smirking despite myself. "Es, aren't I supposed to be the sensible one? Relax."

We walked towards an empty space on one of the benches. I was next to a dark-skinned boy with short brown curly hair and the cheekiest most troublesome grin I've ever seen. He didn't seem to notice me. I saw that Esme was next to a young teenage girl with blonde curls and grey hair, just like her.

I realised, with a shock, that it was our mum.

"Mum?" Esme said. "Mum?"

The girl didn't register either me or Esme. She didn't look more than nineteen years old. Her hands were clasped tightly by a black-haired green-eyed boy, which... which happened to be Dad.

You know when you see a photo of your parents when they're kids, and you think, Gross, did people actually used to look like that? Well that's how it felt but weirder, freakier, much more crazy, staring at our loved-up parents sitting by us. Still neither looked at us.

"Where's Chiron?" Annabeth (it was easier to think of her as that than our flaming mum) asked.

Was this the famous Kieron? The way Annabeth sat here, saying his name, made me think that this Kieron was no ordinary bloke. Dad - Percy - shrugged.

"Helpful as ever," Esme muttered.

I looked back at the guy next to me. He was fiddling with a little metal creature and looked deep in thought. I followed his gaze, and saw he was staring at two people on the opposite side of the campfire. The guy was your stereotypical hottie, with blonde hair and blue eyes. The girl was gorgeous, with a Cherokee look about her, and beautiful dark glossy hair and soft colour-changing eyes. They were smiling and holding hands, just like my parents. I looked closer.