Cecilia Holmes, Daughter of Minerva (Sherlock/Percy Jackson crossover)

Chapter 3

     I was acutely aware of how the members of my Cohort scurried into our dorm in fear, but I pretended not to notice. I certainly didn't care.

     I hacked at the ground, the stairs, the wall, anything that got in my reach of my sword, cursing the First and Second Cohorts who had beat us and cursing myself for being so distracted. I roared in rage and swung my sword hard at our porch railing. I grabbed the hilt, but the steel was stuck. It was pointless, but I continued to yank at it so my fists wouldn't turn elsewhere. My rage blinded most of my senses and all my limbs were shaking, whether with wrath or exhaustion I wasn't sure.

     But I was sure that my sword was stuck. I tried to examine the damage I had done, but my eyesight was still blurred from the sweat and tears that poured out. I leaned against the handle, breathing hard.

     We lost. Our winning streak is broken. And it's all my fault.

     I knew I could easily blame Annabeth or the Praetors. If they hadn't tried to convince me to go the Greek camp again, I would've never have been given the foolish idea that wouldn't stop circulating through my head; I would've never realized that my dad might be out there.

     A dad that doesn't know I exist. A dad that has always wanted a daughter. A dad who would be patient and kind and help me with all my issues. A dad... I screamed and hit my head as hard as I could on the railing. My view of the cabin and the bright light of the setting sun dimmed and blackened. I fell to the ground, my head spinning. But I didn't pass out like I had hoped. I put one hand on my forehead and leaned against the stairs behind me.

      There was a soft creak at the top of the stairs and I blinked, trying to regain my eyesight.

     "Go away, Hazel," I mumbled, waving my hand in the direction I knew the Centurion was in. But, to my surprise, instead of leaving, she walked down the steps and sat down next to me.

     "You know, Reyna isn't going to be happy about... this," she said. My rage abated and my eyesight slowly returned, but I didn't look at the destruction I must have caused.

     Even if you did find your dad, he wouldn't want someone with a temper like yours. Who would?

     "It's not like you can win every single time," the daughter of Pluto said, nervously. She was always edgy around me; lots of people were, but Hazel more than most. Little did the daughter of Pluto know that I secretly appreciated her attempts at friendship.

     "Yes, I can," I mumbled, rubbing my forehead, "When I'm not distracted."

     "Were you distracted? I couldn't tell," she said. I didn't respond but was thankful that my disturbance wasn't obvious.

     "Why were you distracted?" Hazel asked again. I sighed, but it came out as a whimper.

     "Oh, it's just..." I stopped myself. No one could know that I desperately dreamed of having a family, of belonging somewhere. I had always been the strong one; the apathetic one. I never cared whether anyone liked me or not. I never pretended to fit in. Why would I wreck the reputation I had taken years to build up? It would only cause me pain in the end.

     For whatever reason, maybe because of my throbbing headache, I told her anyway.

     I told her about how the Praetors had called in Annabeth to try to convert me to go to the Greek Camp and everything we talked about. Hazel didn't interrupt but listened, quietly. I babbled on and on about my desire to find my dad, but as I talked my eyes began to droop. Soon I was nodding. A minute later I realized I had stopped mid-sentence.