XII: Family Problems

The doorbell rung at five o'clock sharp.

My hair was still moist from the shower I'd taken, and I'd just finished getting dressed. I'd worn a simple black crop, styled with some loose brownish cargos. I took a look at myself at the mirror, before running out the house and down the stairs.

I'd told Alastor to stay with Nico, who left the house after I returned with the stuff I'd bought. Everything was taken care of now, and Nico would go off to find someone to come with us.

I'd taken into consideration what Rachel told me, and I'd decided to simply ignore her. Connor Stoll owed me nothing. I owed him shit, at most. He shouldn't put his neck on the line for me… But I knew he would, if I asked him to. Therefore, I'd come to the conclusion that all would be easier if I didn't tell him about it.

In fact, I didn't even tell Nico about my encounter with Rachel Dare: it wouldn't make a difference. If she was all that prophetic, it wouldn't affect the people he chose. It would go down the way the gods wanted it to.

I opened the main door, and Connor stood there, with a grin that seemed to tear open his face out of sheer excitement. He looked decent, and his katana hung by his belt, golden ornamental lines glowing against the brownish black of the sheathe.

"Connor, hey." I greeted, as I stepped down to the sidewalk. "How's shit?"

"Shit's great!" he exclaimed, plunging his arms up as if he was talking to the gods. "Everything is awesome, so awesome, so amazing."

"Awesome!" I chuckled, closing the door behind me. He practically jumped, as if he couldn't stay put for another second.

I made sure the door was locked, and then I turned to look at his big blue eyes.

"Where to, oh captain, my captain?"

"Oh, dead poet society reference! I love that movie, gods." he said, before pointing to his left. "Uh, that way."

We walked, chit-chatting about movies and people. Talking with him came naturally to me, each word became casual in his hyperactive smile. I mentioned Alastor to him, and he had no less than 23 questions, which seemed suspiciously planned, but I knew he was just a fast thinker.

Eventually, the inevitable ice-breaking question came up.

"So, what have you been up to?" he asked, after an unreasonable laughing crisis that followed a half-good joke made by me.

"Not much, not much." I shrugged, as he signaled that we were supposed to cross the road. "Nico is like, my flatmate?"

Connor raised his eyebrows as we waited before the crossroad.

"Your roommate is like… the weirdest kid in camp, and not much has gone on?" he scoffed, before holding my hand and dragging me across the road, ignoring the red light and the cars' horns, meters away from us.

"He's not weird, okay?" I said, laughing as we reached the other side. He stared at me again, pursing his lips into a straight line. "He's not that weird."

"Dude, he's the literal son of death. He's so gloomy, and creeps around us all the time!" he complained, as he reached into his pants' pocket and took out a pack of chewing gum. "Gum?"

"No thanks, and, like, Nico's a good kid." I shrugged, as he made a bubble pop. "Honestly, he saved you all in the Battle of Manhattan."

He nodded in agreement, but still didn't seem that convinced.

"How did you two cross paths anyway?" he questioned, stopping at a bus station. He checked the time on his watch. "Bus comes in five minutes, supposedly."

"Uh, long story." I chuckled embarrassedly, not very keen of the heavy subject of my suicidal thoughts.

"We have some time!" he smiled, his dimples showing.

"Well, I met him when I died." I said, shrugging. His eyes went wide.

"When'd you do that?"

"Like, August?" I grimaced trying to remember it. "I killed myself, hah."

"Oh." he gulped, his voice cracking. "Are you alright?"

I smiled at him, chuckling as I set my hands on his shoulders.

"Yeah, don't worry. Nico is a great help, you know?"

"Don't kill yourself." he muttered worriedly, a tinge of mourning in his eyes. "What about like candy and shit?"

I laughed in response, rolling my eyes as I sat him down on the plastic seat of the bus stop.

"You don't need to worry about me, look how alive I am!"

"Yeah, you should stay that way… Definitely." he said, standing up and looking at me with a serious frown. "I want to get to be with you, you know? Like… since the first time I saw you fighting, I thought that I wanted to know who you were. I'd be upset if you died."

I smiled at him, nodding.

"I've figured stuff out now, Connor. I'll live to see the gods keep up their word, but not only that. I'll live for myself, and everyone who died for this."

"You better!" he chuckled, as our bus arrived. The look in his eyes was mischievous, a little insane, when he turned to look at me just as we walked up to the doors. "I'll drag you back from Hades if you die."

He bought my ticket, and I noticed how the nervous tension when I'd first brought up the subject was gone so naturally.

"Isn't Nico Di Angelo like, the son of Hades or something? I heard he struck a deal with Minos and almost sold his own soul." he asked, pointing at a pair of empty seats and nodding me to go by the window.

"Oh, that. Yeah, Mino wanted Percy's soul to revive himself, but he said it would bring Bianca back, but Kronos wanted him, and someone tried to sell the poor boy to us, and something else happened, I think." I scowled, barely knowing what I was saying myself.

What had happened to Di Angelo was so confusing that at a certain point, we had no idea where he was, whose side he was on, and what he was trying to do. Minos was a pain in the ass: the greedy sucker only complicated things tenfold for everyone. Sure, he slowed Percy down, but not without slowing down everyone that worked for Kronos even more.

"I have actually no idea what actually happened. Nico even tried to explain, but he didn't really know what was going on either." I admitted, sighing. "He was so caught up in his grief and anger that he almost got killed."

"No, yes. It was fucked up when Percy took his sister to that quest and didn't return with her." he shook his head with a sigh.

"Ah, yes. Bianca." I muttered, my throat dry. He noticed my change in attitude, and immediately asked me of it.

"What about her?"

"I was the one who killed her." I said, gulping shamefully.

"They told me she'd been crushed by this automaton thing in Nevada, no?" he questioned, tilting his head to a side, as if the information I'd said mattered barely.

"She was still alive after that. She'd been smart, and gotten into a gap before it fell." I explained. "I gave her the final blow."

"War is war, Erica." he shrugged, touching my hand reassuringly. "Everyone did stuff they weren't proud of. Like… your stay at the camp."

Bringing up that traumatic episode made me laugh.

"Oh, that was crazy!" I chuckled, remembering the buff figure of Beckendorf towering over me as he beat me. "That motherfucker, Charles Beckendorf, he scarred me for life! Physically and psychologically. Man went for the whole package"

"It was shitty." he nodded, scratching his head guiltily. "I was against it, obviously, not that anyone took me seriously. Everyone was desperate."

"No, it was fair." I shook my head. "My side did crazy shit too. What they did to me was smart, all is fair in war and love. Doesn't make me hate them any less."

"You didn't say anything, too." he laughed. "It was really for nothing, huh?"

I nodded in agreement. They'd gone through the whole procedure of feeling guilty over me, hurting me, losing sleep over me, and I'd given absolutely nothing.

"Did you know Beckendorf died?" he brought up, taking me by surprise. "After you took him back to camp, apparently the gods said him dying was part of a deal or something. Fell asleep and didn't wake up, some weeks ago."

It seemed crazy to me that they would kill someone from their side, just because, but still I gloated a bit. Although perhaps he deserved happiness and the rest of a life, I did not want him to have it, after what he put me through.

"That's so fucking stupid, actually." I confessed, frowning at him. "I already did the part of saving him, and they just kicked my hard work down to Asphodel?"

"Eh, who cares. Personally, I think he deserves it." he shrugged. "Oh, is Nico giving you therapy or something?"

"Mhm. Nico's been good helping me grieve." I agreed, nodding. "He's like a brother to me, we take care of each other."

"Speaking of that… hasn't your mother been taking care of you?" he looked ingenuous as he asked me that. Upon my reaction, he kept talking in a rush. "I mean, since, like, you're underage, and school, and your brother– Your dad–"

"If the gods cared that much to take care of and look after each of their half-blooded bastards, the war would never have erupted." I retorted, interrupting him. There was a certain anger to my words that didn't go unnoticed to him.

He looked at me apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you mad or anything, I'm just a bit worried about you."

"I'm not mad anymore, honestly." I shrugged it off. "What's happened happened. The gods are kind of uncaring, but they wouldn't be gods if they weren't. Nemesis is trying to put down her pride. I respect that, even if it's not nearly enough."

"Yeah, I guess. Hermes has been visiting me and Trav more, too." he made another bubble with his chewing gum. "Ever since Luke died, he feels like he failed."

His words were said lightly, honest but shallow. We all knew the truth of the gods, but most had simply gotten used to their careless nature.

"Do you think he failed you?" I risked, just as he spat out the gum, bored of it.

Wrapping it around the paper he'd gotten it in, he made it into a little waste ball, and threw it at the bus' trash can, coated with a crumply black plastic bag. It fell right in.

"If I'm honest, I don't really care." he shrugged, his leg shaking again. "Mom still loves him, I can see it. She's married to this guy, James, but the way her face lights up every time Hermes shows… That's the only reason I want him to visit more. Travis doesn't, though. Says that it'll only make her sadder whenever he leaves… again."

I nodded. Even when he spoke of serious matters, he still seemed a bit indifferent, mostly relaxed. The shake in his leg didn't cease, and the corners of his mouth still rarely faced anywhere but up.

"I'm indifferent to what the man thinks of me. I don't feel like I need to be his favorite. Everyone knew it was Luke anyway." he continued, without looking at me but instead facing forward. "Travis wants to be favored by him. I've told him it's not worth it, but he just won't give up on it. Somehow, he hates Hermes more than me, but still needs his approval."

"You don't feel any spite for your father?" I asked, curious on what his thoughts were. For me, hating my mother had come naturally, even before she took Ethan's eye. "Don't you feel abandoned by him?"

"Meh. I think… I don't care. Sure, we've had some trouble with monsters, but me and Travis take care of it half decently. Mom drove us to camp when I was eleven, after I was almost strangled to death by a drunken centaur on the street." he muttered, as he unwrapped a piece of candy. "Do you want it?"

I shook my head and he continued.

"I guess maybe I don't spite him that much because I haven't been through a lot, like you. Travis hates him more… He remembers bits of him being there, I think that's why. I can't even remember his face from when I was two or three. Travis was a bit older, so he knows what it was like for Hermes to be a dad. And mostly… how mom acted after he left."

His eyes faced down, his hair shielding his face from me. He too resented Hermes for that. Connor didn't need to tell me for me to know.

"But me, I never viewed him as a father. He's just a guy who visits every once in a while for me. I don't have much to hate him for. He doesn't try to control or parent me, so…" he explained, looking back at me with a gentle smile. "My mom had a bad bit, but soon enough she got her stuff together, and we weren't left to someone irresponsible. She found James, and he's a nice dude. Travis and I have always taken care of each other, even if we almost got killed every month. So… sure, Hermes is hardly a father, but I don't think he failed me if I never expected anything."

His eyes darted to the window I sat next to, before yelling: "Yellow car!" and slapping my arm. Then, he simply returned to what he was saying.

"But Hermes failed Luke, definitely." he said, nodding along to his own words. "His mother was in no conditions to raise him. There was no one to fend for him. I couldn't blame him for what he's done if I wanted to. What Hermes did to Luke was… disgraceful."

In the last word, he'd gritted his teeth together, breathing hard and deep and clenching his fists. Hatred seemed to drip from his skin, alongside with shame and sadness.

"Luke was a good friend." I muttered, nodding.

"Yeah, he was a good brother, too." he agreed, smirking. "I remember once, he beat me up so bad after getting a tarantula on Annabeth's bunk!"

"No, he definitely has anger issues. He punched a tooth out of me for fucking up one of his plans" I cackled, remembering the way Alabaster had almost dropped his chin when he saw me. "At least he's not sexist."

We laughed for a moment, and as the laughter quieted down he looked as serious again.

"He was a hero, Erica." he whispered, his glance guilty, and only I could hear him. "The best hero. Better than Achilles and Hercules."

"He had nothing to lose, so he lunged to seize everything." I mumbled.

"My mom was actually really sad when she'd heard of his rebelling." Connor tried to sound less serious, shrugging as if to get the sadness off his back. "I didn't get it. She'd been neglected too, so it made no sense to me how she didn't get Luke. Travis too, you know? He'd always hated Hermes so much, and suddenly in war it was 'this side or theirs'."

"It was war, Connor." I replied.

He didn't answer, and we went quiet for a few seconds. Soon enough, he looked at me with a grin, as if he'd forgotten everything we'd said.

"This is our stop! Hurry up!" he exclaimed, as he jumped up and hopped to the door as the bus slowed.

I did as he told me to, while it stopped and the doors opened.