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

~ Chapter Six: NERO

Chapter Six

NERO

"You think I'm meeting that psycho?" Esme asked with a snort. "Puh-lease."

I looked at my sister. Didn't she realise that if we met with Rachel, maybe things could be changed? I immediately knew that I couldn't lead an army. I had trouble just speaking to the Chess Club most days. Leadership wasn't one of my skills. I knew that in the bottom of my heart. If I could just speak to Rachel, I could understand. I could prevent it.

Esme would be much better at controlling people. She's so confident and bossy and clever... she never uses her intelligence to her full potential. She's a practical joker and acts hard as nails but inside she's always been... well, she's always been Es. As kids we were the same; crazy happy kids. Somehow, teenage years have mellowed her out and made her into this tough cookie who won't crack. Well, I knew she was scared right now. Even more than I was. I could see it in her eyes - those eyes the colour of the moon, those eyes with the anger of a storm, those eyes with the gleam of a little kid.

Enough of that. Time to snap back to the present and man up.

"I want to see her," I said. "Now."

Chiron smiled gently. "Percy will take you to see her. Esme, I'd like a word. Come with me."

Esme didn't look too happy with that either, but she followed him. She looked back as she went and the look was obvious; don't go too far.

I nodded and threw her a reassuring grin. She poked her tongue out in return.

Dad and I walked through the campus, not really saying anything. Neither of us were the emotional type. He'd gone red, obviously wanting some father-son chat about this whole situation. Me? I wanted nothing more than this silence.

Dad cleared his throat. "Nero -"

"Don't," I snapped.

Sighing, Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders, to which I threw off. "Come on, kiddo!" he said at me angrily. "I'm sorry that I lied to you! I really am! But it was for the best. You've got to believe me, son."

"You had thirteen years of our life to open that door to our lives. We could've been a part of this. I could've known what to do - but no. I'm expected to lead a flaming army!"

I shoved my hands in my pocket and walked faster. Dad easily jogged to my side.

"I'll fill you in," he promised. "I was twelve. On a school trip to the museum. Mr Brunner, my Latin teacher, and Mrs Dodds, my Maths teacher, accompanied us. I went with my best friend, Grover -"

"Grover Underwood," I remembered. "Best satyr in the business."

Dad chuckled. "He never used to be. Grover has always been about the height of a teenager, despite being... well, he was twenty-eight when we first met. Don't make me do the mental arithmetic to get his age now. He's always been a bit of a slow developer -"

"I don't care. Cut to the chase."

"Well, we were in the museum. I had no idea about who I was - just a twelve-year-old boy with ADHD and dyslexia, and always in trouble, living with a timid mum and an abusive stepfather. If I'd known about this world... man, I'd have jumped at the chance. But I didn't know. My mum wanted to protect me from those trying to kill me."

"Kill you?"

"Yeah," said Dad, smirking a little. (Why would you smirk?) "I was pretty hated. So on this trip, Mrs Dodds took me in this room. I thought she was going to chew me out about something. Instead, she grew wings and tried to attack me. Mr Brunner saved me with a sword."