𝒊. 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝒙𝒗𝒊.

It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told Percy that long ago. As usual, he didn't appreciate the centaur's wisdom until much later.

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted Percy and three other adolescents in New York and brought us across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.

Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterward, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus-- "Why didn't I remember him before?"). The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson (Percy was beginning to like this kid) had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his three friends were safely in police custody.

The reporters fed them this whole story. They just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras.

"All I want," Percy said, choking back fake tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew... somehow... we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number." The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for four tickets on the next plane to New York.

Percy knew there was no choice but to fly. He hoped Zeus would cut him some slack, considering the circumstances. But it was still hard to force himself on board the flight.

Takeoff was a nightmare. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster. Percy didn't unclench his hands from the armrests-- except when Noelle offered her hand instead-- until they touched down safely at La Guardia. The local press was waiting for them outside security, but they managed to evade them thanks to Annabeth, who lured them away in her invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!" then rejoined her friends at baggage claim.

They split up at the taxi stand. Percy told Annabeth, Noelle, and Grover to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. They protested, and it was hard to let them go after all they'd been through,but Percy knew he had to do this last part of the quest by himself. If things went wrong, if the gods didn't believe him... he wanted Annabeth, Noelle, and Grover to survive to tell Chiron the truth.

"Just come back to me, Seaweed Brain," Noelle said.

"I will," Percy promised, but he wasn't sure if he could keep his word.

He kissed her forehead and hugged her tight before hopping in a taxi and heading into Manhattan.

~

On the taxi ride back to camp Annabeth bothered Noelle with questions about Percy practically the whole way.

"When did that start?" she asked.

"Gods! Why do you want to know?" Noelle buried her face in her hands.