Three sheets to the wind! @ivecaughtthewind - Tumblr Blog

𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧

"Very well, then you will camp out in Percy’s cabin… with Atticus, of course.”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 7,146

warnings: mentions of black magic, dead animals, blood... i think that's it?

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: ahhhh! this chapter is so long and editing this was so annoying sjlad. i'm so glad to have this up already haha. i was too lazy to read it over one last time so i apologize for any typos. i tried.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Emily’s shrill scream slices through the dead of night, startling you and everyone else out of sleep. Jolting into a seated position, you feel the hair at the back of your neck rise just from how hysteric she is. Her eyes are unnaturally wide, tears rimming her bottom eyelids, and her vision is fixed miles away.

Through her screaming, she slurs her words, and as she pushes herself back in her bed until she’s pressed against the wall, it was clear she was trying to get away from what she was seeing. Panicked chattering fills the room, Emily’s siblings rushing out of bed to check on her. Some hold their swords in their hands, ready to attack a potential monster, a habitual response from when the camp’s boundaries were weakened earlier this summer. Your vision shifts around, noticing the smaller kids scurrying from across the room to Connor as he lunges to turn the lights on.

“Emily, what’s wrong?” Travis shouts, quickly coming to his sister’s aid. Her other siblings are quick to crowd around her, and you jump out of bed,

"Wait!" Travis freezes, hand inching away from touching her, and you swallow hard as you cautiously approach the crowd around her, parting to make room for you. The dilated pupils, the thrashing, wide-eyed stare at nothing; you’ve seen this before. "She- she's not awake. She's having a night terror,” you explain over her cries of despair, looking around at the frantic stares of her siblings. “If you touch her or try to wake her up, you might startle her. She can hurt herself or someone else.” You chew on your bottom lip, Emily now sobbing as she covers her face, mumbling, “No, no, no. Please.” She buries her head into her knees, her arms trembling as she wraps them around her legs. Your heart sinks to your chest, hoping that the night terror will pass soon. You knew too well how scary night terrors were. Though most people forget what they dream about by the time they wake up, you and Atticus often remembered them. You didn’t even have to imagine how terrifying her dream must be.

"W-what do we do?" Connor asks, and you turn around. Gently, he soothes one of the younger kids; a small hand grips the end of his shirt while a few more huddle close behind him. A soft whimper comes from one of them, and you frown,

"There's not much to do… you just have to let it pass.”

Worry clouds Travis’s features as his arms drop to his side, still kneeling beside Emily's bed. Lou Ellen weaves through the crowd, soon standing beside you with an expression that mimics Travis’s, and suddenly a soft gasp leaves her lips. Her hand slips into yours, and she squeezes it hard; the room suddenly becomes impossibly cold, and that familiar feeling of dread churns deep in your gut.

"You feel that too, right?" Lou Ellen whispers, and you nod, noting that the others were too busy to notice, their attention cautiously fixed on a grieving Emily. The both of you exchange a look with Atticus, his round eyes telling you he felt the shift too.

An eager bark comes from Ambrose as he runs under Lou Ellen’s bed. Slowly you turn on your heels, hesitantly approaching him as Lou Ellen trails close behind. You didn’t exactly know what he was trying to show you, but as Lou Ellen releases your hands to rush over to Ambrose, it seems that you were about to find out.

She mutters something unintelligible as she drops onto her knees to pull out a familiar red keepsake trunk from under her bed. Her quivering hands frantically flip up the latches, and your pulse is loud in your ears as you watch her.

"What is it, Lou?" She doesn’t say anything; instead flinging the top open, revealing what’s inside. A sloppy pentagram drawn in blood on an antique mirror lays on top of everything. With shaky hands, Atticus picks up a small wooden storage box beside it. Warily, he opens it up. Bones, blood, dirt, and various other things, including chicken claws, are piled as an offering. From the flesh, maggots began to form, and the pungent, rotten smell hits your nostrils. Your stomach turns as you gag, and Atticus turns away with a scrunched nose while he closes up the box.

“Guys,” Lou Ellen calls out shakily, and the two of you glance down at the tabbed page of a demonology book. “I guess them leaving wasn’t as spontaneous as we thought it was,” you comment through a clenched jaw, hands moving around his things to see if you’ll find anything else in Alabaster’s trunk.

“Summoning something like this is really hard; there’s no way he did this by himself,” Lou Ellen whispers cautiously, occasionally checking to make sure no one was watching the three of you. This kind of news would surely bring chaos if everyone found out at once. You shake your head, hands frantically moving around some of the clothes he left behind, and to your relief, you only find a few spellbooks and scattered papers filled with notes. “Then the three of them must have done it. When did they even have time to do this?” You push aside Alabaster’s red trunk, about to reach for James’s emerald one, but you halt at Atticus’s frantic tap on your shoulder. “Y/n, you got to see this,” he gulps as he points in the direction of Emily. You follow the path of his finger and freeze when you’re met with the shadow you had seen earlier that day. The shadow seems to extend taller this time, his figure growing as he feeds off of Emily’s fear. If it did have a face, there wasn’t one in the form that it chose to present itself. Even in a brightly lit room, the vapor of its silhouette was solid as it stands eerily still.

The anger from finding out this was your brother’s doing pushed aside any fear you felt in the moment. How dare they do something like this? To summon an entity of this caliber meant they were dabbling in black magic, which was something the three of them urged you guys not to do. The revealing of this hypocrisy put you in a range of emotions, but most of all, you were disappointed that the people you looked up to the most could be this cruel. If you three had left with them, the camp would have an awful time getting this thing off of the borders. Even if they were fighting for a different side, it wasn’t fair to let them suffer the chaos that this entity could reign in the camp.

It was already painful to see Emily suffering from the manipulation of its power, and you feel a pang in your chest, your focus faltering to the younger kids in the cabin who were confused and scared as Connor attempts to calm them down.

A scoff leaves your lips, your heartache only fueling your rage and your vision narrows on the shadow, hardly affected at the chilling chuckle that echoed in the air. Atticus calls your name cautiously, confused at your anger as you stomp toward it. “Get out! Get Out! APAGE!” You command, your shouting making your cabinmates jump, and you can sense their confused stares. In a blink of an eye, the shadow is out of your sight, but you can still feel its presence. Your aura illuminates wildly around you, and you frantically scan the room, finally finding the shadow standing near the door. “GO!” You shout, walking straight over as you chant a prayer in Latin.

Your lack of fear brought displeasure to the entity in front of you, and a sound between a gravely growl and a hiss rumbles through the cabin. The wails and desperate questions behind you, as well as the sheer energy being released from this monster, sends a chill up your spine, but it fails to discourage you.

“Y/n, what’s going on?!” Travis shouts loud enough to be heard among the chaos.

“A spell of safety here I cast,” Lou Ellen proclaims warily. “A ward of might may hold me fast.” You join her, the sureness of your voice fueling the spell, especially as Atticus joins the two of you. Your voices harmonize in unison, the intention of your spell strengthens. “A shield before me and behind, to right and left protection bind. To us may no ill whit come neigh, but only she whose rede I cry!” As the diabolical groans build, the shaking of the cabin becomes more aggressive. Lamps fall off the side tables, the beds creak back and forth against the floor, and the frightened cries of your cabinmates grow.

“SO MOTE IT BE!” Your throat burns as you scream along with your siblings. The shadow shrinks, and with one last rumbling hiss, it vanishes. It doesn’t leave peacefully; a loud pop of light bulbs exploding is the final damage it leaves behind. You cringe, covering your head with your hands as the glass crackles to the floor.

In the aftermath of the chaos, it’s painfully silent for just a moment until stifled cries and distress murmurs come from all corners of the cabin. Your illuminating aura makes you the only light source at the moment. Emily’s cries suddenly stop, peacefully slumped against her propped-up legs, her tearstained face relaxed as she drifts right into a dreamless state. You frown, shifting on your feet as Travis gently moves her to lay comfortably.

“Travis, Connor…” you glance at the both of them before your vision fixes forward again. “Let’s talk on the porch,” you suggest, your voice weak as you walk straight to the door with Atticus and Lou Ellen’s ragged footsteps close behind.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You tilt your head back, releasing a breathless groan as your forearm wipes off your damp temple. The cheerful sea green irises of Percy are set on you, and as exhausted as you felt, the corners of your mouth couldn’t help but pull up as you take in his disheveled damp hair and the scarlet color of his cheeks from the summer heat. “I thought you were going to go easy on me,” you scowl, sticking your dagger into its casing that’s strapped onto your thigh. Lazily, you grab the water bottle he’s offering you as a laugh comes from his lips. “You won’t learn if I go easy on you,” Percy points out, and you playfully roll your eyes while drinking your water. “You’re getting better, though, so it is worth it.”

“You think so?” You purse your lips and shake your head at his observation. “I don’t see it. You’ve been beating me up this entire time.” “But you’re throwing hits this time instead of defending all of my attacks. I can tell you’re getting more confident,” he smiles warmly. “I mean, would you rather have Annabeth be your partner?” He jokes as he points over at Annabeth.

Her eyes narrowed, clouded with determination as she lunges towards Atticus, her attacks swift and calculated. The clanging of their blades echoes in the air, and Atticus grunts, backstepping from her attacks as he struggles to keep up.

“No thanks,” you answer. Percy blows air out his nose, amused at your comment as he continues to drink from his water bottle.

Though Atticus was having trouble keeping up, you noticed he looked more confident. Percy was right; he has gotten a lot better. It was impressive that he could keep the fight up for this long, considering his defeat would have arrived already a few weeks ago. Biting his lip, Atticus finds an opportunity to attack, forcing Annabeth to retreat with a big step. Before she could take another swing, he points his two fingers at her armed hand.

“Incantare: Dearmo!” Atticus hastily commands through his panting, and a blue ball of energy strikes her hand. Annabeth’s breath hitches, her grip loosened by the magic, and soon her dagger falls right to the ground. She rolls her eyes, about to reach for her weapon, but her action is halted by Atticus swiftly putting the flat of his sword near the bottom of her chin. A move she has done to him many times before.

You shift on your feet, Annabeth’s fists clenched at her sides, her expression a complete 180 from the grin Atticus is sporting.

“That’s cheating!” She accuses him as he withdraws his sword.

“Is it?” His head tilts slighting to the left, eyebrows knitting together. “I don’t see a rule list anywhere around here.” The cocky smile on his face made Annabeth want to punch it off of him.

“Well, it’s sword-fighting class. The name is pretty exclusive,” she mumbles through a half-clenched jaw.

“I still won, though.” “She’s gonna kill him one day,” Percy comments, and you cross your arms in front of your chest, your gaze never leaving the two. “For sure,” you agreed.

“You cheated!” “No, I didn’t!” “Yes, you did!”

“I didn’t! And with your logic of sword fighting class being exclusive, that means your dagger doesn’t make the cut either!” Atticus points at her weapon that’s still neglected on the gravel of the arena. Annabeth stumbles over her words for a second, groaning in frustration and her cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink.

"Not true! Daggers are just smaller swords!"

Atticus scoffs, and you gawk at his sudden confidence. What is he thinking? You’re sure that he’s well aware of Annabeth’s ability to kill him. Yet, somehow, here he is unphased as he attempts to outsmart the daughter of Athena.

"But they aren't swords,” Atticus answers bluntly.

“I mean, he’s got a point,” you whisper more to yourself, but Percy must have heard it because he laughs.

“Yeah, he’s going to die,” he half-jokes as silence falls between the two. Atticus’s face progressively falls flat, watching as Annabeth’s irises begin to resemble clouds in a raging storm.

"Uh oh,” Atticus mumbles. He steps back hastily as the other lunges toward him. Even amid her rage, her slashes and jabs are controlled and just missing Atticus’s skin by inches as he attempts to dodge her attacks. He can barely keep up, their blades clanging together until Annabeth clashes her dagger into his, the force just enough to cause his sword to slip out of his sweaty palms.

Atticus doesn’t have time to react, Annabeth sending him straight into the ground with a kick right to his stomach. A strained whine comes from him as he curls up in fetal position as he tries to catch his breath after getting the wind knocked out of him, Harvey squealing in concern as he runs around his body.

“WOO! Get him, Annie!” Thalia cheers, nodding in approval as Annabeth stands over him, blowing up the front strands that escaped her ponytail. A proud smile forms on her face, giving Thalia a high five the moment she’s close enough.

With your eyelids squeezed shut, you braced yourself for the pain to hit you. Your preparation didn’t help much, and the dull ache shooting right through your core makes you gasp harshly. Your arm slings across your stomach, and you swallow hard as you wait for the pain to pass. “Are you okay?” Percy asks, his hand hesitantly resting on your upper back as he leans down to see your face. Through your eyelashes, you see his concerned expression, and you smile weakly, “Yeah, just a twin thing,” you sigh, cautiously moving to stand up straight. Percy’s gaze shifts to Atticus, who’s still curled up on the gravel being soothed by Harvey’s little paws that pat his cheek. “Did you feel his pain?” Percy’s astonished expression makes you laugh, and you can’t decide if he was amazed or weirded out.

“Yeah, I’ve always been like that,” you wave it off. “That’s kinda cool,” he beams, and you scoff,

“No, way! It’s more inconvenient than anything. It’s an empathy link I didn’t agree to.” “I didn’t agree to Grover putting an empathy link on me,” he points out. “Yeah, but at least you can get it removed! I’m stuck with this loser’s pain forever,” you grumble, and Percy laughs, following you as you trot over to your brother. You stick your hand out, your body covering the sun from shining on your brother. Atticus sighs softly with closed eyes, laying flat on the gravel with his limbs spread out like a starfish as he recollects himself.

“Hey, do you think you can, I don’t know, stay out of trouble? You’re not the only one that feels your pain,” you scowl playfully. Atticus slowly sits up, “Sorry,” he mumbles as he reaches for your hand, and you help him up on his feet. You shake your head, giving him a disapproving look as your hands ruffle off the gravel on his hair. “Hey, guys!” The call catches your attention along with Atticus and Percy. Connor jogs up to the three of you, “Emergency counselors meeting,” he announces, waving to catch Annabeth and Thalia’s attention. “Chiron said you guys should come too.” Connor turns to you and Atticus, and you nod, sighing softly.

Annabeth’s eyebrows knit together, “Emergency counselors meeting? Why do you guys have to come?” She asks, and you shift on your feet, “Long story.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“What do you know about the entity your brother’s summoned?” Chiron asks, and you shift in your chair, feeling nervous under the stares of all the counselors. You clear your throat as your fingers fiddle on your lap, gaze fixed ahead at Chiron sitting at the end of the long conference table. “Um, I did some research on it this morning. The entity preys on sleeping people. It infiltrates your dreams and gives you recurring nightmares. If it feeds on your fears for long enough, it can be powerful enough to keep you asleep or morphe your dreams with reality to the point where you cannot decide what’s real and what isn’t.” “How do we know that you didn’t summon this thing? It’s kind of suspicious that you three decided to stay,” Clarisse conspires, and your jaw clenches. You hated being accused of things you didn’t do. Her implication that you might have stayed to be a spy offends you, but you decide to ignore it. “My brothers allowed the entity to enter the camp by opening a portal with a mirror. They called upon it and made a deal with it.” Your eyes nervously flicker to Percy, who’s sitting on your left, before returning to stare at the table in front of you. “In the offerings that were given, we found a, uh, paper with Percy’s full name,” you mention. “What?” Percy asks, and you shift in your seat. “This entity can manipulate anyone at camp, but it’s clear that it was summoned to attack him.” Murmuring from the counselors, fill the room, and you cringe as Chiron reigns them back into silence. “You want us to believe that this is all a coincidence? You definitely have something to do with it,” Clarisse accuses once again, and you draw in a slow breath in an attempt to calm yourself. “We didn’t check through their trunks until last night. When their beds were taken, we shoved their belongings under Lou Ellen’s in the meantime. I-It felt wrong to go through and throw away their things,” you explain. “Boohoo, you can’t miss them that much if you’re still speaking to them.” Your fiddling fingers turning into fists, your face hot with anger at the smirk Clarisse is sporting.

“I have nothing to do with this. If I were a part of this whole scheme, I would not be here offering to help,” you manage through a clenched jaw. “You want to save the day to make you less suspicious. That’s what you’re-” “Incantare: Labia Sigillum,” you cut her off, your fingers pointing in her direction. The rest of her words are mumbles and groans as her lips gradually seal together until she couldn’t talk. She squints dangerously at you from across the table on your left, and you shift your gaze, relieved that she’s at least quiet for now.

“As I was saying,” you continue, ignoring the snickers of the Stoll Brothers and few of the other counselors among you. “My brothers had clear intentions when they called upon this thing.” Chiron sighs, head shaking disapprovingly at you and Clarisse’s inability to get along. “What do you suggest we do, Y/n?” “Last night, after Lou Ellen, Atticus, and I cast the protection spell, I put sigils on the cabin doors, and we cleansed the space with smoke. Lou Ellen went ahead and began putting the sigils for the other cabins. Atticus and I will run through each of them, cleanse the insides and line the doors and windows with salt,” you explain, and Chiron nods, listening attentively. “To get rid of it, well… it’s best we don’t call upon it as you know, names do hold power. So I think it’s best to meet it where its end goal lies, which is Percy’s cabin.” “That solution does seem the best rather than letting it wander the grounds. And you know how to exorcise it when the time comes?” You perk up, standing tall in your seat. “Atticus and I have been studying demonology for a couple of months now. We’ve seen our father banish entities like this from our own house. We can do it,” you say confidently, Atticus sitting up in his seat beside you, and he nods, silently agreeing with you. “Very well, then you will camp out in Percy’s cabin... with Atticus, of course.”

“Yes, sir.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆ Atticus’s soft snores from the top bunk distract you from your notes. From where you were, you could tell Atticus had tried to stay up with you; his head leans against the wall as an open spellbook lays on his lap. Tsking softly, you return to your books. Before you could refocus on what you’re doing, a small whimper comes from Percy. He has mentioned to you in passing that his dreams were weird and often prophetic, and you assume that he’s having one of those tonight. You frown, your chin resting on your palm, watching the crease right in between his eyebrows deepen. You find yourself looking at him longer than you intend to, admiring his freckles that are a little darker than they were a few weeks ago. You scrunch your nose, covering your mouth to stifle your giggle as he snuggles the side of his face into his pillow, his mouth slightly agape as he snores. He mutters something you couldn’t make out, shifting one more time as his long eyelashes fluttering open and he makes eye contact the moment his tired eyes fall on you. Your gaze returns to his desk fast. “... were you watching me sleep?” “No,” you mumble, picking up your pencil and bringing it to your paper as if you were writing something. You side-eye the other, face a little warm with embarrassment. A sleepy chuckle leaves Percy’s lips, “You were watching me sleep.” “Was not.” You squint at him, trying not to look as flustered as you felt. “I-I was just amazed at how much drool comes out of your mouth,” you tease, and Percy’s expression glint with amusement. “Whatever,” he rolls his eyes playfully, and he moves on his back, sighing softly as he stares at the bottom of the top bunk. “Bad dreams?” You ask, weaving your pencil between your fingers. “Mhm. Nothing I’m not used to, though,” he reassures you. He sits up, his fingers running through his hair. You smile as he faces you, sitting criss-cross on his bed. “What are you working on?” “I’m reading about hexes and how to do them.” Percy presses his lips together and slowly nods his head. “I’ll make sure never to make you angry,” he jokes, and you laugh.

“That's probably the best. You wouldn't want an angry witch on your tail regardless," you say, amused. You hum, looking around his cabin, “no wonder you hang out with fishes at night,” you tease. “It must be lonely waking up alone.” Percy smiles sadly as he takes a look at his empty cabin. “Yeah, I miss when Tyson was here. It was nice having someone with me,” he admits, and you smile at the reminder of the baby cyclops. Like most people at camp, you were wary of him at first, but it didn’t take long for him to grow on you. “How is Tyson doing? Have you spoken to him recently?” “Oh, he’s doing great. He’s working in the underwater forges near Atlantis; he loves it there.” “I’m glad. Maybe he’ll come to visit one day. He loved Ambrose,” you mention, your familiar groaning softly as if he was responding to you.

“Ambrose didn’t seem to like him,” Percy snorts, and you tilt your head as you laugh. “He’s just angry because Tyson kept calling him a bad dog. He wanted to pet him, and when he found out he couldn’t, he blamed him for it,” you giggle. “But he had a lot of fun playing fetch with him. You had fun too, right Ambrose?” You ask. There is a silence before Ambrose produces another unenthusiastic groan.

“I don’t think he had fun.” “Oh please, he had the time of his life. He’s just rude.” You glower playfully at the canine laid at your feet. A small chuckle leaves Percy’s lips, his amused expression faltering a little as he shifts. “You know this… demon thing. Have you had to deal with something like this before?”

You hum, thinking about the many times you’ve had unwanted visitors in your home. “I think the first time I had to deal with something like this, I was six years old. My father bought a doll from a thrift shop for me, and the doll had the spirit of a little girl attached to it.”

Percy gawks at you, and you bite your lip, refraining from laughing at him. “I would get sleep paralysis and have these weird dreams where I’d end in this basement, and she’d beg me to help her. My dad sensed her in the house before I could even tell him about her. She would run in the hallway, and at night, you could hear her giggling and opening and closing doors.” Percy visibly shivers, his arms wrapping around himself. “That’s creepy. You’re not making me feel any better.” You shrug, “We got rid of her, though. Well, my dad did. I was too young to be exorcising spirits.” You shift in your seat, noticing the worried look on Percy’s face. “It’s okay, waterboy. We’ll get this thing,” you reassure him. “Me and him,” you point up to a sleeping Atticus at the top bunk, his mouth open with his ferret curled up at the top of his head. “we’ll protect you,” you declare. “I’ve never felt safer in my life.” Your jaw drops at his obvious sarcasm, his eyes gleaming playfully at you. “Don’t be rude.” You scold, and you point your finger at him, unable to suppress your smile as the sound of his laughter fills the room.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Get ready to lose, losers,” Percy brags confidently as he watches you shuffle the Uno cards in your hands. You exchange a look with Atticus, the other smirking while returning his gaze to Percy. “Don’t speak too soon, Perce. Atticus will take it as a challenge.” “I already have. I will make you eat your words, Jackson.” Atticus squints at Percy, the other returning the competitive glare. Your eyes flicker between the two, finding it funny how friendly they are with each other all of a sudden. “Alright, alright. It’s a game of Uno. Let’s not play like it’s life or death, yeah?” “Speak for yourself, Y/n. I need to show Percy who is the real Uno champion!” Percy scoffs, “I’m gonna win.” “We’ll see. Y/n, hurry up,” Atticus urges, and you glare at the other, making the other’s hands fly up. “Sorry, but you’re shuffling those cards like you’re doing tarot!”

“Don’t rush me,” you mumble, shuffling a little longer just to tease the two, handing them out only when they both begin to groan. You give out seven cards to each of them and yourself before putting down the deck. “Okay, who goes first?” “We can do oldest to youngest,” Percy offers. You perk up and nod, “You’re older. Our birthday is in the fall,” you tell him. “And then it’s me then Atticus.” “Um, no, it’s me and then you,” Atticus corrects, and you furrow your eyebrows. “I was born first!” “We don’t even know who’s born first!” You protest. You and Atticus were personally delivered to your father by your mother in golden baskets. You’ve asked your father multiple times if he knew who was born first, but he had no idea. He told you that he was too stunned at not one but the two babies he was suddenly responsible for that it did not dawn on him to ask. Fair enough. “It was me; I can feel it.” “Definitely not.” “Yes, it is! I’m taller!” “Height has nothing to do with age, Atticus!”

“Okay, if it doesn't, then what’s your excuse for going first?” “I take care of you all the time. If I wasn’t born first, it doesn’t matter because I’m the big sister anyway.” Atticus freezes for a second as he considers your point, and you smile, pretty sure you won this conversation. He’s not quiet for long, your smile falling as a scoff comes from Atticus,

“Just because you boss me around doesn’t mean you’re the big sister!” “It kinda does, but whatever. I’m going second!” “No, I’m going second!” “Guys?” Percy calls in the middle of your bickering. The two of you silently watch as he gives you a goofy smile, slowly putting down his first card, his way of telling you both to hurry up and play. You sigh as your shoulders slump, “Ugh, fine! You go first.” You give into Atticus, and he lets out a cheer of triumph before revealing his first card. You go after him, the three of you too focused on the game to talk. The only consistent sounds are from Ambrose and Harvey playing their own little game of tag around the statue of Poseidon. Occasionally, there are grunts and bickering from the two boys every time one changes the color or if they'd block each other's turn. Percy and Atticus, in their competition, bonded over one thing, and it was when you changed the color from yellow to red.

As it approaches Percy's turn, a bright smile is plastered on his face, and theatrically, he throws down a pick-up two card. To his surprise, Atticus laughs, unphased by the attack.

"Y/n, pick up four," he says shortly as he slams down another one of the cards.

"Nope, six cards for you, Percy, " you laugh, throwing your card in the pile. Again, Percy looks unphased, attacking Atticus with another pick-up two card.

"Eight for Atticus," he teases, and Atticus dramatically sighs as he looks at you.

"I'm sorry, sis, but…." He doesn't finish his sentence, putting down another one of the cards. "Ten cards for you." You sigh as if in defeat, the two boys laughing at your misfortune. You had one more pick-up two card, and you pray that Percy doesn't have another one. “Go ahead, pick the cards up!” Percy tells you, his hands reaching for the deck for you. You bite your lip, stifling a giggle as you slam down your card. Percy freezes, hand hovering the deck, and he blinks, taking a moment to realize what just happened. Atticus looks up at Percy with his jaw dropped.

"Pick up twelve, Perce," you laugh, cutting through the silence, and Atticus joins you with his high-pitched laughter. Your laughs harmonize, the pitch is precisely the same, and Percy makes a face as you both throw your head back simultaneously.

“Off-topic, but why do you guys laugh the same?” He blinks at the two of you, which sends you into another fit of laughter. The sound was too contagious not to join you, and soon the three of you are laughing together as Percy continues to tease you. “A twin thing,” You sniffle as you recover from your fit, fingers wiping tears from your cheeks.

“You guys are weird. You better not be talking to each other in your minds and teaming up on me,” he glares at the both of you as he begrudgingly picks up twelve cards. Your glance over at Atticus, and you hum, “You know, we didn’t even think of doing that, but that’s a good idea,” you joke. You and Atticus can do many weird things, but unfortunately, telepathy isn’t one of them. Atticus plays along, and he winks at you playfully before looking at Percy with a wide grin. “Hey! Cheaters!”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

Groaning softly, your hand rubs your sore neck, and you rest your tired eyes for a second. In your fatigued state, your vision kept blurring as your eyelids continuously grow heavier. As much as you wanted to give in, you couldn’t sleep. It was the third night of staying at Percy’s cabin, waiting for the entity to show up, and all day, anticipation festered in your stomach. You weren’t sure if you were overthinking it, but you had a feeling that tonight could be the night.

You just wish this thing would show up soon. You weren’t sure how much longer you could say awake, and with how comfortable Atticus looked sleeping on the top bunk, you couldn’t trust him to stay awake the rest of the night. Giving in to the aching of your back, you rest your cheek against the wooden desk.

In your anticipation, you’ve reviewed all the information you knew about this thing. Insammon. That’s what its name is—the hidden nightmare. The information was pretty vague; it didn’t even have a drawing of its form. Your fingers run through the pages of the book formerly owned by Alabaster, and you frown.

You had thought that their decision to leave was spontaneous, but now, as you reflect on the weeks building up to their departure, it was painfully evident that it was planned. The secret conversations, the stern looks when they saw you with Percy, the constant talks highlighting your misfortune at camp as if trying to convince you of something. It was right in front of you, but somehow you missed it all.

If only I had noticed sooner, maybe I could have convinced them to stay.

You groan as you sit up, the quiet of the night making it hard to avoid these kinds of thoughts. As much as you wanted to be angry at them, you couldn’t. You look down at Ambrose, sliding off your chair to sit beside him on the floor, your hands petting his back. “I bet you miss them, buddy,” you whisper. Your heart sinks at the deep whine coming from Ambrose’s chest, and you nod. “Yeah, me too.” You rest your cheek on the canine’s burly body, hand scratching the top of his head. The rise and fall of Ambrose’s muscles soothe you to sleep. You blink hard a few times in an attempt to wake yourself up, ignoring your mind telling you to quit indulging in the comfort of Ambrose’s body under your head. Choosing to ignore the thought, you convince yourself that perhaps, it wouldn’t hurt to fall asleep instead. Ambrose would wake you up if he felt something, right?

Sighing softly, you allow yourself to give in to your heavy eyelids, and just when you’re about to fall asleep, the creaking of a floorboard jolts you awake. You push yourself up from your hands, Ambrose getting on his feet fast. You scan the room, cautiously standing up as you bite your lip.

"Atticus…" you whisper, head reaching up to shake him awake. A sleepy whine leaves his lips, and you tug on his shirt. "Atticus, wake up," you plead a little louder, turning around to recheck the room, and you yelp, the shadow appearing in the darkest corner of the room.

"ATTICUS!" Your eager shout startles him, and he sits up so fast, it flings Harvey off of his shoulder and onto his mattress.

“Percy, wake up,” you lean down, not wanting to startle him awake. You shake his shoulder as gently as your trembling hands would allow. For a second, you thought it had already attached itself to him, his shoulder needing a few rough shakes before Percy wakes up, a little disorientated. Atticus jumps off from the top bunk, “C’mon, dude. Do you want to get possessed or what?” Atticus jokes, trying to lighten up the mood, and you snap your gaze over, your glowing green orbs intimidating the other. Atticus chuckles sheepishly, “Too soon?”

"Guys?" Percy mumbles groggily, and your green orbs dim as you look at him.

"Percy, get up. It's here.” You try not to sound too panicked, but he senses your eagerness, hurrying out of bed. The two of you stand in front of Percy protectively, Ambrose and Harvey standing tall as your first line of defense.

"Where is it?" Percy asks groggily.

"Corner of the room," you respond, taking Atticus’s hand.

"I don't see it."

"Oh, you'll feel it in a second," you reassure him, missing out on Percy’s suddenly alert eyes. “I don’t think I want to,” he grumbles. Jeez. Percy enjoys his fair share of horror movies, but he never wanted to be in one himself.

"Exorcizamus te, immundus spiritus, malignus potestas, incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica," you and Atticus begin to chant in unison. Percy was able to grasp a few words, getting the gist of what you were saying. Something about diabolical spirits, leaving? That’s all he really could translate. He jumps, taken aback by the animalistic groan coming from seemingly nowhere but everywhere at once. A chill runs up his spine, and he stumbles, the ground beneath him begins to shake, and he grabs on the desk behind him for support. The water from the fountain across the room splashes in different directions, forming puddles on the floor as the lamps beside his bed and on his desk topple over. The chilly wind conjured from nothing blows in the cabin erratically and loud in his ears, drowning out your chanting and Ambrose’s barking.

Percy squints, the brightness from your green aura, and Atticus’s electric blue one strains his eyes as if he was looking directly at the sun. Though he understood that this kind of thing was out of his realm, he couldn’t help but feel useless in this situation. Percy, still unable to see what you’re staring at, notices the way loose papers from your notes and letters sent by his mother gravitate to the swirling air in the corner of the room, forming a small tornado. For the first time, he gulps, seeing the vapor of a shadow beginning to appear, and it morphs angrily. If he had blinked just a second earlier, he would have missed how the silhouette shot right in his direction, not colliding with him but with you. You gasp sharply; the force of its energy sinking into you sends you stumbling into Percy’s body. “Atti-” The beginning of your brother’s name slurs from your lips as you’re forced asleep, eyes shut against your will.

Percy’s pulse thumps loud in his ears as his arms come under yours to support your unconscious body.

“Y/N?” Atticus calls your name in a panic, helping Percy gently place you on the floor. Ambrose rushes over whining, and he offers himself as a makeshift pillow for your head as Atticus gently places it down. The wind disappears, the flying papers in the air slowly drifting right to the floor, and the fountain returns to its normal stream, making the room uncomfortably still.

“What do we do?!” Percy frantically studies your sleeping features before leaning his ear toward your chest. To his relief, your heart is still beating. “She’s breathing-”

“Dammit!” Atticus yells, and he runs his fingers through his hair. He stands on his feet quickly, pacing around the room as he chews on his fingernails.“I….” Atticus’s mind runs a mile a minute, trying to rack his mind for every piece of information he may have come upon that could help him right now. “I could try the spell again, but… I can’t do this alone; I need Lou and-”

A heavy pit settles in his stomach, dread taking over him. Percy watches his features stricken with everything from grief, panic, frustration. Atticus suddenly halts in his place, quiet as he stares at the ground, lost in his thoughts.

In moments like this, he wished that he would spend more time studying with you. He thinks that if the roles were reversed, you would have come up with a solution by now and would be setting your plan in action. It’s why he looked up to you the most; your quick thinking, the amount of knowledge you could plant in your brain at once, was something he could never do. At least that’s what he thought. “Percy, you stay with her. I-I need our books, I need Lou…” he rushes over, getting his shoes and shoving them on. “Gods, I hope we can get this settled by morning,” he mumbles, and Percy swallows hard, Atticus’s panic making his heartbeat impossibly fast.

His gaze returns to you as Atticus rushes out of the cabin. He had no idea what could be happening to you. If he had walked in just now, he would think you had just fallen asleep from how peaceful your face looks. He had felt even more useless now than he did earlier. None of his powers can help you right now, and frustration builds in his core as he comes to terms that the only thing he could do is wait. What bothered him most of all was this was because of him, and he hoped, no, prayed, that you would be okay at the end of all this. He shakes his head sadly, eyes clouding with sadness as his hand gently brushes your hair away from your forehead. “Hang in there, Y/n,” he pleads, his words faltering into a desperate whisper.

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