Disclaimer: I don't own stuff, and for the record, I don't think I'll even be able to match up

Pairings: Haha.

Warnings: It long. Also, Percy's angry.

Summary: Here it is. The longer, edited but uncut (does that make sense?) version of my story.

Deader than Dodds

Look. I lived by a code, a pretty lax one when you first look at it, but a code nonetheless.

But being a half-blood? It brought along a lot of complications.

I'm going to warn you now. If you feel something, anything, like a burning feeling in your stomach, close this thrice-damned thing and hope to whatever religion you're in to never hear something like it again. If nothing happens to you and you're somehow amused by what I'm telling you then you do you I guess. Good for you.

If you are a half-blood, demi-blood, even just a quarter-blood, I'm telling you; it isn't easy. You get the whole single parent (you shits are lucky if you have at least a step-parent stepping in - that is, of course, if they aren't an asshole), ADHD, dyslexia, and weird events all in one package. Namely, you. Not only that, but later on you're most likely going to have to fight. Now, for my family, that's practically normal, excluding the whole 'mythology is actually a thing' deal. It might just look like one more thing to add to the growing list of experimental set-ups my mom's crazy scientist friends tend to grow during their stays at New York, which is, fortunately, not that often.

Now that I think about it, its probably going to attract more weirdos under my mom's care, as if she didn't have enough already.

What weirdos, you might ask.

The kind of people that constantly surround my mother and her saint-like patience. I'm surprised we haven't destroyed an actual city yet with how destructive they get. They're all violent, trigger-happy assholes.

Don't tell mom I called them that. She might kill me instead.

In any case, going back to what I wanted to say earlier; you're going to fight, sooner or later. Your parent would probably hope later, as any concerned parent would, but its best to be prepared. The best way to do that is to find a place willing to teach you. Preferably Half-Blood hill. They've got the right specifics for you.

That camp isn't exactly subtle, but they have magic barrier that keeps the no-nos away. Assume that's all you need.

If, for whatever reason, you ever decide to ignore my warning, well, buddy pal homie amigo friend, you're definitely screwed. Especially so when they come after you. Which is exactly what happened when I decided to be stupid— and this was during a field trip of all things.

My name? Percy Jackson. This is about me (egotistical, I know) figuring out that the universe was a humongous d-bag who liked to throw people like me into situations I didn't ask to be inserted to in the first place. Like mother, like son, Reborn would say. Jerk.

Like I said, it started on a field trip. And me. I was what you could call a...challenged kid. The term most people would use would be 'troubled', but since when have I ever conformed to society's standards? Point is, I'm struggling. See, I was decent with a lot of things. Mom's tutors and friends all made sure I was. The thing is, I have a lot of trouble trying to keep up. In school, I have to read and write. Constantly. With my dyslexia, something so simple could turn out to be an utter pain in the butt.

There's also the fact that, wherever I go, no matter how much I try to make myself turn into the wall, chaos follows me. Like last year, when my mom decided to take me and our family on a trip to the Philippines. Let's just say, when someone assumes the accidental landslide near the Underground River in Palawan was because of uncle Hayato, they thought wrong. That was me playing with a ball.

Yes. It is that bad.

Anyway, this always happened a lot whenever I took any sort of trip. I've had to switch schools a lot because of it. But not this time. This year, I was determined to behave as best as I could. You could say I was desperate enough, because one more I'm-not-mad-just-disappointed look from my mom, a training session by sadistic Skylark-kun, and a month of frustration with Reborn was all I needed to want to shape up.

My class decided this year would be a good time to look at the Metropolitan Museum. They said it was to look at art, but really not many students were paying attention- some were even yawning. I was one of those people. Is this seriously what a kid is supposed to be looking at when they could have much more fun looking at the gift shop? No, I didn't think so.

Apparently, the school thought it a great idea to stick a bunch of rowdy grade-school students into a really cramped school bus with only two teachers. Granted, we were a pretty small class but ours was the most...well, you get the idea.

I was minding my own business, really I was! But its kinda hard to focus on your own personal space sulking if a resident school bully decides its an acceptable pass time to bother your best friend. In my case, Nancy Bobofit, a kleptomaniac girl who had trouble keeping her hands (and mouth) to herself threw chunks of her half-eaten sandwich at my only decent civilian friend Grover Underwood because she was bored.

Grover wasn't that impressive at first glance. He had a free pass from PE for life because he was crippled, and he looked like he'd been held back for years, if the hair on his chin wasn't any indication. He cried a lot, was pretty skittish for a guy, and was all around that kind of person who would let others push him around. I wouldn't let that cripple issue deceive you though, you should've seen him at lunch when it was enchilada day. I didn't even know you could run that fast with two canes under your armpits.

I frowned at Nancy, and gave her a narrowed glance, which she didn't notice because I liked to think I was pretty decent at masking my presence. Grover noticed me, though, and patted my shoulder. Maybe I wasn't as good at hiding my presence like I thought, or Grover was too close to me for it to work

"It's okay," he told me, scrunching up his nose while picking out the chunks. "I like the taste." I returned his look with an incredulous one. 'With a side dish of hair?!'

He shrugged sheepishly, as if he knew what I could have been thinking. I huffed in dismay and leaned back into my seat, giving Bobofit a glare. She merely stuck her tongue at me and smirked, laughing with her cronies.

Grover held my shoulder. "You're already on probation, Perce. Don't make it worse than it has to be," he warned, looking serious for once.

I rolled my eyes. "Bud, I know that," I answered him mildly, looking back out the window. It was raining. "I wasn't even going to do anything."

'At least, not anything that can be traced back to me,' I thought, internally grinning. Bobofit and I were at odds all year-long. She did some stuff to me, naturally I retaliated, but no one could pin it on me. They knew, but they couldn't prove it.

Maybe spending all that time with Reborn wasn't for nothing, after all.

Grover looked at me as if he didn't believe me, and honestly I don't blame him. I wanted to chuckle, he was one of the only people to really get me around this place, I guess. I don't even want to be here. New York, I mean. I wanted to be in Italy with mom. Or even just in Japan with my grandma. Hell, I'd even take visiting Zio Xanxus. But, no, I'm too young to stay with the adults on their super important mafia business.

Like always.

You'd think having flame powers enough, with all the dimension-altering uncles and cursed adults that turned into babies and stuff, but no. Apparently it was still to risky to have me out in the open. Every time I ask, they'd only give me half-truths or outright lies.

Even Mom won't tell me.

She only said I'd know when I was ready and old enough. I'd been waiting four years already.

Aunt Kyoko always said I was a little too hot-headed for my own good. But I couldn't help it! It always felt like something was watching me. Waiting. Anticipating. It drove me up the wall, and for like, months that one time I was so determined to find out who my stalker was. Mom had to come herself and douse me with enough flames that I fell unconscious.

Maybe that's why I always got kicked out of schools. There was always something that was out to get me, like the time I was in kindergarten. Somehow, someway, a snake had slithered into the playground. I think I gave mom and aneurysm when she found me gripping the neck of the snake with my grubby little hands. I vaguely remember having watched Harry Potter the day before that, so I was probably trying to talk to it. Mom still tells me parselmouths aren't real, like I didn't actually know they weren't. In my defense, I was young and naive and didn't know what to do.

There was also this one time a suspicious looking guy was watching me from afar, and I've already been on 'trips' like these, so I automatically went to a teacher and told them about it. They didn't believe me, so I took matters into my own hands. After that day, I was told that I was a problem child and was advised to get a school for kids with special needs as an end result.

A sigh escaped my lips as I tore my eyes away from the window and eyed my classmates. As I did so, the bus finally stopped, and several kids were reaching up or below to grab their bags. Belatedly, I'd realized I zoned out again and gratefully accepted Grover handing me my bag. Honestly, for all that he looked like an awkward dork he was such a gentleman sometimes. I should know, I've seen the exact opposites and not-quite-there-yet kinds of suitors around my mother.

A sudden chill spiked up my spine when I peeked into my bag. I snapped my head up and my eyes darted around before finally settling on one of my teachers that came with the class today. Ms Dodds.

If there was one word to describe our pre-algebra teacher, it would be eccentric. Granted, most of my relatives were eccentric, but at least they cared. I guess Ms. Dodds didn't get the memo the first day she transferred here, and promptly decided I was the devil's spawn. Which was weird, because while I looked like a regular school boy with issues, she looked like a fifty year old war-veteran. Considering I'd known both Lal Mirch and Collonello, I was pretty justified saying that.

She wore this leather jacket and looked downright mean, like one of the jocks who could push me into a locker and forget to let me out. She'd arrived at Yancy about half a year ago when our math teacher suddenly fell ill. Personally, before she came, I thought Reborn was the reason and he wanted to see how I was doing, because there is absolutely no way anyone could have fallen ill out of the blue like that.

Ms Dodds was glaring at me. I had no idea why, but she was, which was creepy.

"Get off the bus, honey," she rasped, licking her lips. I couldn't help but shiver slightly. It could be because of the way she talked to me, but I also didn't feel comfortable letting her call me honey; though she does that to everyone. It's probably one of her quirks.

Attempting to slip past her, I got off the bus and headed straight towards Grover, sending wary looks back at the bus. Ms Dodds continued to glare after me, as if my existence was the most inconvenient thing to ever grace her in all her years as an adult.

"Perce?" Grover asked, concern lacing his features. I waved him off and watched Ms Dodds cautiously.

"Boys," called Mr Brunner, rolling his wheelchair towards us. He had a kind smile on his face. "Go join the others, now. I don't want anyone getting lost."

Mr Brunner was cool. The fact that the guy was on a wheelchair didn't deter him from being one of my favorite teachers because of how awesome his classes were. One time he made us use some stuff from his Roman and Greek collection, which was awesome . He also reminded me a bit of home, with him smelling like the coffee mom always brewed whenever her paperwork was a bit much.

I nodded. "Yes sir," I slung an arm around Grover's shoulders and dragged him towards the rest of our mental-case companions we call our classmates.

I ignored Grover's grumbles of protest right until we were told to enter the museum. Museums are okay, honestly, but it gets kinda boring when you've already been to even cooler museums, like the science exhibition uncle Hayato once took me to see. That was fun.

This one looked like it'd seen better days and just recently had a patch job done. It wasn't really impressive - it also displayed Greek art, which to me was unnecessary. I already knew most of this stuff.

I tuned out the rest of my classmates, either listening to music or Grover when he caught my attention. I didn't bother telling the others to shut up, what was the point? Its not as if I'd ever be seeing them again.

That...that was strange.

I stood a little straighter and stared ahead. I don't know why I just thought that. Why did I think that? Was it just a gut feeling or -

Or was it my intuition?

If so, what was it trying to tell me? Was someone after me? Do they know who I am?

No, that's impossible, mom never let my real name get registered outside Namimori. My registered name was Percy Jackson, son of Sally Jackson, who was a woman working as a cashier to a candy store, writing a novel by the side. That info was practically beaten into me by my tutors. The mafia can't be it.

...was something going to happen again?

My stomach thrummed with heat, filling me with dread. Oh no. Oh nononono. Why. Why now? It had to happen today? Really? Could it not have waited until after school?

So into my thoughts, I didn't notice Nancy Bobofit in front of me, bumping into her accidentally. I snapped out of my stupor to see her seething red at me, looking like she wanted to punt me in the face.

"Mr Jackson, is something the matter?" My eyes glanced over to Mr Brunner, looking at me in curiosity. Some of the others snickered at my dumbfounded look, seeming to think I was distracted with something else.

Oh. Right. My earbud was still in my ear.

"Oh no, uh," I tore the bud off and shoved it in my pocket, resolutely ignoring Grover's palm lightly smacking his face. "I was just, um. Admiring the artwork?"

Wow. Brilliant lie, Percy. You truly are the master of bluffing, having learned under the greatest. Clearly your words should be heeded.

Mr Brunner chuckled at me, obviously catching my bluff, but not pointing it out. Bless his soul.

He gestured to the artwork - a steele, I think - I was using to cover up my stumble. "Perhaps you could tell us about what is depicted in this?"

I'd glanced at it before, but not so much that I remembered what it was about. Analyzing the pictures for a few moments, I replied.

"Isn't that Kronos eating his kids?"

To my relief, he nodded.

"Indeed. But," Mr Brunner held up a hand. Clearly he wasn't done. Why couldn't he be done?

"Why did he?"

I stared at the carvings for a few more moments. "Well, usually it starts with a want for power, right? Like all bad guys tend to be -" A few guys in the audience snickered. I tried not to grin. Grover looked pale, though. Mr Brunner coughed loudly, face making a weird contraction.

"- so he decided why not eat his kids to prevent any heirs from taking his throne."

A habit I'd been trying to reign in had me tilting my head to the right. "Which was obviously a bad move because wow great parenting skills, man, way to make sure your children didn't have a reason to throw you off..." I muttered out loud. Grover looked ready to faint out of the corner of my eye. Mr Brunner's expression looked even more constipated. I think I even saw Ms Dodds paling quite a bit.

"But then, when he thought he managed to eat all his kids," I continued. "His wife switched Zeus with a rock. If the king of the Titans didn't see the difference between it, Zeus must've looked like a rock of some sort -"

Grover groaned and his head down onto his palms. Ms Dodds was staring at me incredulously. I heard thunder crackle ominously. I didn't think that was a good sign, but carried on anyway.

"-or the rock was sculpted enough that there wasn't any difference, which takes some serious skills." A kid in the back nodded knowingly. One of the artsy kids, I think.

"Then when Zeus grew up, he tricked Kronos into spitting out the rest of his siblings - gross I know," I nodded to some girls who were grimacing and making disgusted noises. "Then they all kicked Kronos off to Neverland and took control over Olympus."

I rolled my eyes when I heard snickers. Nancy, who was directly behind me, snort and mumble to a friend, "Wow, its like this would be entirely useful to us in the future. Do you get an application that asks, 'Why did Kronos eat his kids?'"

Mr Brunner caught everyone's attention by speaking over the small chit-chat that had overtaken our group. "And why, Mr Jackson," Mr Brunner addressed me, "to paraphrase Ms Bobofits rather accurate question, does this matter in real life?"

"Ooooh," some kids taunted Nancy in chorus, making her face flush. "Shut it," she warned, turning her nose up. If we had been any older, I have no doubts she would've flipped them the bird instead.

"I..."What did it matter, really? How was this supposed to matter in real life?

I shrugged. "My mom made me read up all about them, I guess. She thinks something might happen to me again, and she's never wrong." I answered, not bothering to cover it up with some half-assed I-don't-know spiel.

Mr Brunner gave me a speculative look, mulling over my words. "Well, half-credit, Mr. Jackson," he told me. I scoffed. "Of course," I muttered, moving back with Grover.

"Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children. They, being immortal gods, had spent their years living inside the stomach of their father, completely undigested," he continued for me.

"It may have affected mental stability though," I mutter.

"Soon after, the gods defeated the Titan with his own scythe, cutting him into pieces, and banished his remains to the pits of Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note," ironic use of words there. "it's time for lunch. Ms. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The rest of the kids followed without complaint, happy to be getting a break, but Grover and I were stopped by our teacher.

"Mr. Jackson," he said. Oh no, not this again. I waved Grover to go ahead without me, turning back to Mr Brunner. "Sir?"

"You have to realize the answer to my question," he told me.

"About what, sir?"

"About real life. How your studies will apply to this." I think he dodged saying 'of this subject', but I wasn't too sure.

I gave him an incredulous look. I stood my ground.

"I would, sir," I replied. "Except whenever I do try to know why all this is so important, everyone seems to be keeping secrets from me." I was growing angrier every word I spat out. Mr Brunner blinked, growing concerned.

"What do you think I could've done?" I asked him pointedly. "Who would take threats from an 11 year old seriously?" I laughed, but there was no humor in it.

"Would you tell me anything, sir?"

He always asked me a lot of tough questions, questions I had no background information on. I'd always been taught that before I become sure of anything, learn the facts. To know the situation beforehand before making any concrete conclusions. It hasn't screwed me over so far.

This teacher, who I respect and admire, was getting on my nerves because he was trying to make me do the exact opposite. Just. No.

"Percy..." he tried to reach out to me but I flinched before he could touch me. He drew back, obviously alarmed.

"Sorry, sir." I muttered, shouldering past him. "I guess getting targeted for, oh, probably all my life caught up to me," I mutter to myself. I hoped he didn't hear. That was the last thing I wanted.

When I finally reached Grover, I noticed the rain had gotten heavier, winds blowing harshly, rain pouring down mercilessly. This had been happening since Christmas in New York. Snow storms, hurricanes, flooding, and strangely enough, forest fires. I'd contacted the others to see if they were the cause, but no. They were all either in Europe or Asia.

The class were starting to cover up more, closing their jackets and pulling up their hoods. But they didn't seem worried, like I was. Some of the guys were even pelting nearby pigeons with bits of crackers. I noticed Bobofit pick-pocketing someone's purse. Ms Dodds, treated to a full view of this, pretended not to notice.

Grover and I were pretty far away from the rest, in front of a fountain and under one of those umbrella tents. I hoped to the First we weren't lumped it with them, but I wasn't betting on it.

"Did you get detention, Perce?" Grover asked. I sent him a bemused look, shaking my head. "He just got on my nerves a little." I answered, and he gave me an inquisitive look. For a moment, I thought he would ask me about it, what happened and why, before he pointed to my lunch. "Can I have your apple?"

I stifled a chuckle. Grover, Grover, Grover. Never change, my man.

I let him take the apple. I had some extras, anyway, good diet and all that.

I tried to distract myself by thinking of one thing to another, from training to the latest movie I'd watched, before finally settling back to where I'd come to call home. Or the members of it, anyway. Home wasn't home unless my mom or any of her friends were there. I'd hug her all the time and generally just observe how she'd run the Vongola. She said it was a good bonding activity, especially since she was busy. Sometimes she'd pull me into talks about school, which was always a touchy subject between us usually due to how much I got into unintentional trouble; and then she'd proceed to give me the look that showed she was disappointed.

It was really powerful. I couldn't count the number of times I got affected by it.

I'd heard a yelp beside me and turned to see Nancy Bobofit standing, lunchbox turned over, directly over Grover's lap. It was currently buried under heaps of unfinished meal. She grinned and turned to me. "Oops," she told me sweetly. I stared at her blankly.

"Do you have some sort of death wish?" I asked her honestly. No, seriously, did she? She looked confused. "What's stopping me from punching you right now?" I snapped at her.

My family never telling me anything? Fine. They could keep their secrets.

I always get kicked out of school at the end of the year? That's okay. I don't mind moving all the time.

One thing I could never, ever tolerate though?

This bitch messing with my friend. No one messes with the people I care about. Ever.

She gained momentum back pretty quick though. "Oh yeah?" She challenged, crossing her arms. "Try me, Jackson."

Around us, behind us, whatever - my class started crowding around, eager to watch a fight break out. Grover was panicking, seeming to not know what to do. Mr Brunner watched us. (Um, what?) Ms Dodds waited patiently, waiting for something.

I didn't punch her.

I did her one better and thrust my palm up to her face. I meant to grab it, but -

A large splash pushed her back a couple of steps. Her friends screamed as they scrambled away. I stood there, dumbfounded, bringing my hand back to me and staring at it in shock.

Was that me just now?

The students began muttering, panicked and hushed.

"-did you see that-"

"-the water just came out-"

"-it slashed Bobofit -"

"-his eyes glowed-"

I got pieces of four statements and only one was familiar to me. And it wasn't something to celebrate about. Although some would probably be ecstatic about my flames being so easily accessible, it only sent a cold shiver of dread through my body.

The one thing mom warned me about not doing, and I went ahead and did it.

Ms Dodds stalked towards me, eyes glinting with delight. My gut twisted itself in warning.

Somehow, there was something off about Ms Dodds this time. I was still too shocked by what had happened that I didn't fully register her presence as a threat until she held my hand and started dragging me away. Grover was shouting protests, saying he was the one who did it, but clearly Ms Dodds wasn't fooled. Hell, no one else would, after seeing what had happened; especially in full view. Still, I had to give credit to my friend; at least he tried.

As Ms Dodds pulled me away, Nancy threw me a smirk. I gave her a sarcastic one and threw up my middle finger. She faltered, seeing it. Hah.

I was so sure we were at the bottom of the steps, but then when I turned back Ms. Dodds was already at the very top, looking impatient. She'd already let me go, apparently. Jogging up to avoid getting into any more trouble, I followed her to the top. I wondered how'd she get up there so fast, then I assumed I'd blanked out again since I'd seemed to be doing it lately this week. I think it's a product of my ADHD, like my counselor taught me.

But somehow...even saying that didn't feel right. Like there was something off about the picture, some crucial factor that would let me understand this for what it was.

When I glanced back at the group, I found Grover staring worriedly at me and Ms Dodds, fear plainly across his face. The dread pooling in my stomach was not helping me calm down at all. He cut his eyes to Mr Brunner, seeming to try and will him to do something, but Mr Brunner didn't do anything, continuing to read his book.

I turned back. Ms Dodds was inside the building this time, a few inches away from exiting the entrance hall. Maybe she wanted me to humiliate myself by buying a shirt from the gift shop and give it to Nancy?

Nevermind, I thought, when Ms Dodds walked straight past the shop and went deeper into the museum. We ended up in the room where Mr Brunner had asked me a question, the Roman and Greek area. She was standing in front of a statue of Hades. She was making a weird sound in her throat. It sounded like she was growling. This really didn't help me with my discomfort whenever I was around Ms Dodds. She was off, like I'd said before, but right now that offness seemed to increase tenfold now that we were alone.

"You've been a thorn on our sides, honey," she said. I didn't answer, only nodding slowly.

"Did you think you would get away unscathed?" The look in her eyes...it looked vaguely familiar. I realized it was one a mafioso would wear once he'd finally gone off his rocker. I took a small step back, crouching a little, letting my instincts guide me to somewhat of a fighting stance.

"...get away with what, exactly?" I asked. She narrowed her eyes, fury painted on her lips. Thunder boomed, echoing through the room.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," she said, ignoring my question.

"It only took a matter of time before we found out. Confess, and you will suffer less." I highly doubt they'd be able to top the things I suffered while being trained with Vongola, but I still didn't know what she was talking about.

"You -" a warning, my mind made up a different response. "I think you have the wrong person, miss..." I told her, never once breaking my stance.

"...Wrong?" she whispered. My senses tingled, and I barely had any time to react before a huge lump lunged towards me. I turned to look at the lump, vaguely making out Ms Dodds' features, only her eyes burned like charcoals, her back was home to two leathery wings keeping her afloat. She didn't look human anymore. She turned into a shriveled hag, with nails like claws and her teeth jagged and sharp, yellow, and looked just about ready to have me for dinner.

I couldn't help but ask myself if things were going to get stranger, when all of a sudden Mr. Brunner barged in and tossed me a small object.

It was a pen.

What the fuck, Mr Brunner.

Ms Dodds screeched really loud, and lunged for me again. I rolled out of the way, turning to Mr Brunner incredulously. I held up the writing utensil in my hand. "This is a pen."

"Yes," he answered, like it was the most obvious statement in the world. His hair was slightly damp, clothes looking like someone had dripped liquid on him without getting noticed.

"What do you want me to do with a pen?!" I screamed at my teacher. I narrowly avoided getting shish-kebbabed, eyeing Ms Dodds' claws warily. The pen was still clutched firmly in my hand, like it was the only thing keeping me alive. Which, in this case, it was doing such a great job at.

I heard Mr Brunner sigh with exasperation, like it wasn't my life at stake, before calling out. "Uncap the pen!"

By this point, I was getting desperate, so I pointed the tip of the pen towards Ms Dodds and clicking it. Just in time too, as she'd prepared to lunge again. In a split second, what I had on my hand wasn't a pen anymore. It turned into a sword.

The same sword I'd seen on Mr Brunner's person every time during tournament-styled days. I'd seen some weird stuff before, and what just happened could really relate to those times. Good Lord.

Just as I'd turned the pen into a sword, Ms Dodds rammed right into it, getting skewered like a toothpick would a mini-sandwich. I did something else, too, because I wasn't too comfortable having her this close to my face: I pulled the sword upwards. The upper half of her body was easily cut into two, and she let out a piercing scream.

She disappeared in a flash of golden sand, swirling around where she'd once been. I breathed, trying to get myself back together again, before recapping the pen (I didn't want to startle anyone, and it was kind of heavy. I wasn't used to the weight yet) and looking back at the entrance of the room.

Mr Brunner had apparently disappeared too.

I sagged against a nearby wall. I was exhausted, and the adrenaline from that fight was slowly exiting my body leaving me nauseous.

My mind was still trying to wrap itself around what had happened today.

I thought I was safe. I thought the point of sending me to New York, to America, miles away from my family was to keep me safe. Mom promised I'd be safe. She said nothing was going to happen to me while I was here.

Well, I hereby beg to differ.

I wasn't expecting the flash of light that greeted my eyes once I'd stepped back outside. I shielded my eyes from the light and made my way back. Obviously the rain had subsided while I was inside.

Nancy smugly grinned at me. "I hope Ms Kerr whipped your butt."

I raised an eyebrow, adopting a bewildered look. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Our teacher! Duh!"

I don't remember a teacher named Ms Kerr. I tried to ask her what she was talking about, but she just brushed me off and turned back to her friends.

"Dude," I sat down next to Grover, finding him still eating the apple I'd left him. A few several apple remains were scattered around him. Or, well, the several apples I'd left behind. "What happened to Ms Dodds?"

"Who?" he asked me.

But there was a pause before he answered, and wouldn't meet my eye. I glared at him not amused, and watched as he squirmed uncomfortably.

"You're a shit liar, Grover," I told him, leaving him sputtering. I dug my pockets to look for my earbud when the pen fell out. I'd reached down to get it after adjusting my headset, but Mr Brunner interrupted.

"Would that be my pen, Mr Jackson?"

I frowned, not letting go of the pen, instead staring up at him in disbelief. Oh no. He was not getting this pen back, not after he'd disappeared on me before I got the proper chance to ask what was that all about. Instead, I told him,

"I have no idea whether or not this is a sick joke, sir, but this wasn't the worse I've faced." I sat straight up and stared at him unrelenting.

"If no one is going to tell me what just happened," I said, eyes shifting into a glare. "-And don't give me some bullshit about Ms Dodds not existing, you were there-" I snapped, cutting him off from whatever he was going to tell me. "- I'm not obligated to return what you don't remember handing me, anyway. As far as I'm concerned," I said, crossing my arms. "This pen had always belonged to me."

I stood up, gathering my stuff and slinging it over my shoulder. I glanced back at the two of them, Mr Brunner frowning at me and Grover looking at me like I betrayed him. Not that I didn't like Grover, but with all the chaos this turned out to be, I needed to get back home. Or to my apartment. I'd be back in swing with him after the weekend, but right now I wanted to be left alone.