The Run

Author Note: Hello fellow demigods of the Percy Jackson fandom! I haven't written for the fandom in a while….*Shame.* Nevertheless, I was looking through my few old story from this said fandom, and ended up rereading my story 'The Journey'. The reviews were sweet and the plot was decent, but I decided the writing could use ALOT of improvment. The story was about Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth with they were runaways, and I have decided that I will now rewrite that concept, adding a lot of things and….well, making it ten million times better.

Without further rambling, enjoy to the best of your ability!

Maybe it wasn't the best hiding place, but it was certainly ideal.

The terrified nine-year-old peeked out of the closet, clinging for dear life onto the door handle in the instance he'd need to close himself up. His mother's eyes were glowing demon colors, her voice raspy and shrieking things about him. He didn't understand what she was doing, but he did know it was really scary. Now May Castellion finally collapsed in a motionless heap before her son's wide blue eyes.

"Mom!" this inspired him to rush to her side, "Mom, are you alright now?"

She blinked a couple of times, "Oh….oh, yes. Why wouldn't I be, my son? Lunch won't be long, Luke…"

Slowly, she rose and resumed her scorching of the cookies and making of the sandwiches. Hesitantly, he took his usual seat at the table and studied his parent. She was always doing things like that, and he didn't know or like why. His father never cared enough to stay- May always told him he was just busy, but he knew that wasn't the truth. He couldn't trust most of what he said simply because of her "crazy moments".

I love Mom, but….I'm tired of her being so crazy, he thought sadly as yet another peanut butter and jelly sandwich was placed in front of him, what if I found Dad? Then I could really give him a piece of my mind, then Mom and I could be happy!

In his opinion, that sounded like a pretty good idea.

Hesitantly, he peered out of the darkened window. The night was humid and warm, the blackness of night ensuring a cover for the young boy. Once he checked to the coast being clear, he swung one leg over the seal before hesitating again.

What if Mom is really sad when I leave? He thought worriedly, his frown growing, I don't want to do that to her….But it'll be good in the end. I've got to try.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he slipped out into the unknown. His tennis shoes left the concrete soon, running along the grass as he ducked into the woods. Memories of his mother's "crazy moments" flashed in his mind as he rushed along, but also warmer ones, such as her affection and tales of the Greek gods each night.

This is for you…

Something wet and rough slid against his face, alarming him into consciousness.

He jerked backwards, big blue eyes widening in alarm of the canine now before him. It was adorable enough- a beagle who barely looked to be out of the puppy years. He wagged his tail eagerly, looking quite pleased to see him awake. Luke squinted in the early sunlight that was filtering through the treetops, trying to clear the fog casting over his young mind as the memory of running as fast as he could into the woods the night before.

I wonder if Mom will look for me….I better go before she can find me, he thought sleepily and somewhat reluctantly.

The beagle thumped his tail against the ground expectantly. Having never owned a pet, he simply gave him a few pats on the head before stumbling to his feet. Leaves and mud fluttered from his soaked clothes as he began deeper in the forest, small fingers gripping the cloth of his backpack a bit tighter. Now that it was daytime and he was becoming fully awake, thoughts of regret and alterative options were beginning to creep into his mind; it gave him a lot of reluctantly to continue. As if for some level of reassurance, the beagle licked his elbow and wagged friendly.

"You….you can't follow me," he spoke softly to avoid be heard, "nobody can. I have to go find my Dad all by myself."

Obviously not understanding, the beagle simply wagged harder. Rolling his eyes a bit, the nine-year-old continued walking and groaned when he was followed by the insistent dog. Now he slipped his backpack off of his back, turning around and grabbing him by his worn leather collar.

"You have to go," he said louder this time with a light glare, "I don't want anybody to come with me."

A swish of the tail is all he got in response. Sighing a bit, he slid the straps of his bag onto his shoulders once again and headed back out. Considering the padding of four small feet followed his heavier footfall, he didn't bother turning in hopes of simply shaking the beagle's following. Leaves crunched as he trekked further and further into the unknown places rhythmically, giving the young boy time to decide exactly where he was going.

Mom always said that Dad liked to go to Mount Olympus….and Ms. Shower told me that 'mount' meant mountain….he recalled from both home and his classroom as he jumped over a jog, his face lighting up with realization, so I just have to go to a mountain!

It seemed simple enough….he just needed to figure out where he could find a mountain.

He was a week into his journey and had realized three things:

One: He could not shake that dog to save his bloody life.

Two: He had absolutely no idea where he could find a mountain.

Three: He was really, really hungry.

Now he found himself in yet another unfamiliar with no idea where he was heading. The beagle, whom he'd started to call Annoying, wagged as he sniffed the air; Luke caught the whiff of hamburgers himself, and both of their stomachs were signaling their emptiness. Placing one hand on his cramping belly, the child stumbled to a bench and hopelessly ripped open his bag once again. When he'd first left, he'd thrown a few burnt cookies into a plastic baggy reluctantly, but he'd already been reduced to eating them and was now left with no money and nothing to eat.

He took a longing glance over at the hamburger stand nearby. Even Annoying was agreeing with him, wagging hopefully and glancing up at his 'owner'; Luke shook his head.

"I don't have any money…" he said sadly and on the verge of tears, "I'm sorry, I'm really hungry too."

Annoying looked at him in confusion, which only made the boy confused himself, Why is he looking at me like that?

Both of them cast another longing look to the food stand in unison.

I'm so hungry…..but Mom told me to the never steal….he thought gloomily as his fingers itched to grab as many burgers as they could grasp, but….I don't want to be hungry and die…

He placed in head in his hands from frustrated confliction, …I'm sorry, Mom.

Moments later, he was crouched behind an artificial bush directly behind the griller. The second he turned to hand someone their order, the boy had grabbed a steaming burger in each hand and shoved them into his bag. Just as quickly, he snatched a bottle of ketchup and the bag of buns before running off as quickly as he could carry himself. Annoying, as usual, obediently flanked his side with his prize being a hotdog clamped between his teeth.

"We make a pretty good team…" the child whispers, eagerly grabbing up some of the meat and shoving the steaming stuff in his mouth.

Annoying wagged, and it was then and there Luke decided that being in a team wasn't so bad.