memory (hiatus)

Chapter 1: Who the Heck Are You?

Sorry y'all for this first author's note. I know how annoying it can be to have an AN at the start of the story, so just move along if you don't want to hear it. Anyway, I thought you might just want to hear the inspiration for this story.

Recently, a friend of mine got a head injury. They were in an accident, and lost some of their memory. Specifically, five years. Considering I met them in the last five years, they don't remember me at all. We're repairing our friendship, but it's been hard, especially during these weird times(Does anybody else think zoom socials are overrated? No, just me? Okay)  Anyway, the incident kind of reminded me of Percy and Jason losing their memory in Heroes of Olympus. And I wondered what would have happened if their girlfriends  (Annabeth and Piper) had lost their memory too. And then I made this high school AU connection, and boom!

I don't really care who reads this book, anyone and everyone is welcome regardless of who you are. This is mostly just for self-therapy, so I don't really mind who reads it. I welcome all readers though! This is also my first story I'm posting here, so please don't have too high expectations of me!

Sorry for this boring note, but on with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own the PJO universe. Rick Riordan does. The only thing I own is the plot and any OCs should they come into play.

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Jason's POV:

Jason was having the most beautiful dream.

He stared into eyes that seemed to shift color, turning from a muddy brown to bottle green, from sea green to sky blue, dancing in the most beautiful patterns, like a kaleidoscope. Yet something seemed wrong. As he watched, the eyes turned fearful, as if looking up at a horrible danger. Though he could hear nothing, he knew that the person with the eyes was telling him something. To run, to get the hell out of wherever he was.

Noise came back with renewed vigor, destroying the peace he'd had. Voices overlapped. Some high, some low in pitch, some loud, some quiet. Each voice was telling him different things. No matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn't discern a single voice from another. The eyes disappeared, leaving him in deafening darkness.

Jason gasped, surging upwards. His senses came back to him. He was staring into sea green eyes, full of concern, set into the face of a teenager.

"Whoah, whoah. Easy, buddy," the guy said, easing him back into the bed he was lying in.

"Where...what...where am I?" Jason said, taking in his surroundings.

He appeared to be in some sort of sterile white room, reclining in some weird bed, with metal bars on the sides. White room, a woman wearing blue scrubs, an older woman wearing a white lab coat–he was in a hospital.

"You're in the Manhattan hospital," the older woman said. (AN: I don't think this is a real hospital, I just made it up)

That didn't really make sense to Jason. He lived with his mom and sister in New Jersey, right? He must have had an accident or something that made him end up in a hospital. Maybe his injuries were so severe that he needed to be transferred for better care? Wait, did he live in New Jersey? Jason remembered their apartment there, his mom's lemon shampoo, the arguments Thalia and his mom had...and also his mom bringing them to New York to meet his stepmother and real father...and then he'd gotten lost, hadn't' he? Jason remembered wandering the streets lost, and then, there was a big blank space of memory. What had he done when he was on the streets? Jason remembered somehow finding his dad and his stepmom, finding Thalia, learning of his mother's death, and beyond that, he couldn't really remember. He'd been thirteen by the time he found his father, so what had he done in that year? And was he even thirteen anymore?