Tutoring is a Type of Hell
The prologue & first chapter of my contribution to the @pjo-hoo-bigbang. Special thanks to my editor annikao aka loveislarryislove.
(An AU crossover with "The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina". When she leaves the Hunt and starts maturing, Thalia's powers grow beyond her ability to control. But Chiron assures her help can be found if she's willing to make the trip to 'Greendale'.)
Everyone had told her that growing up would be an adventure, or that it wasnât going to be easy, but for some reason they were all convinced that it would be worth it. Thalia, for a variety of reasons that were either super-depressing or more than a little strange, hadnât expected to ever grow up. Like most half-bloods, her death seemed a continually close-by inevitability, right in the rearview mirror no matter how fast she traveled.Â
Thalia never was afraid of death, though. At least, not of her own. She had a moment on Half-Blood Hill as testament to that foolhardy boast, but even though she remembered the claws and teeth and menace that brought her low that fateful day, she was resuscitated as part of a drawn-out ploy. And even after that, even as she consigned herself to vows of immortality (or rather, eternal youth and vigor), she fully expected that a month or a century later sheâd be killed all the same by a monster who proved clever enough, powerful enough, or just lucky enough to get the drop on her. That it was dependent on chastity didnât bother her as much as other people might believe. What made her leave wasnât a forbidden love or longing for a family; she had both and was prepared to lose both⊠no, it was staring down a long stretch of uncertainty, looking around old enough to be able to see ghosts of dead friends in every strangerâs face, reminders of everything she outlived, and always on guard in a world that became less a home every next tomorrow.Â
Her father understood, and so did her sister Artemis (eventually); the overwhelming melancholy that sporadically affected her brother Heracles at least once a century was proof enough that the Olympians knew the strain that immortality could impose. Â
She didnât share the real reasons for leaving the Hunt with her friends at Camp Halfblood, or even with her brother Jason, despite how close theyâd become since reconnecting. She didnât want to admit the truth, none of them could begin to know how she felt. None of them knew what it was like to be a coward.Â
She had no trouble believing Annabeth knew her real reasons; the daughter of Athena was gifted and intuitive even by the standards of her cabin full of genius demigods. No, Annabeth probably knew, and Thalia loved her for never bringing it up. Jason didnât care for the why, he was just happy that she wasnât traipsing off in the wilds, growing more distant and unapproachable.
Those damn children of Aphrodite were still convinced her âdefectionâ from the Hunt was a triumph of âthe power of loveâ, like all her anguish and existential dread could be boiled down to âshe needed to get laid more than she needed to live foreverâ.Â
Now that she could date though, she could say with certainty it was more trouble than it was worth. Though sex at least wasâŠ
Ahem. Well, it wasnât bad.
The rest of growing-up, though, that was the interesting part. What music was popular, how connected everything was, how fast the world moved and how much it demanded from someone just for living in it. High school diploma, driverâs license, job resume, bank accounts and a credit score, and even a bare minimum of social media so you didnât look like a psycho or a âbotâ, whatever that was⊠the first two years of being mortal again wouldâve been overwhelming without friends to help her play catch-up with everything she missed, including some foolproof forgeries, a personal assistant to manage her social media profiles, and a rotation of tutors to help her earn her GED.Â
And just when she thought she had it handled, just when Thalia was certain she was hitting her stride⊠wellâŠ
Thanks to some glowing recommendations, including one from Sally Jackson (the sweetest, coolest woman in the world who Thalia wished was her mother more than once), Thalia was able to start a job working at âSweet on Americaâ, a candy store in Grand Central Station that leaned hard into its âgee aw shucksâ Americana, with homemade candies and patriotic red-white-blue colors in the uniforms that the employees had to wear. As far as first jobs went, Thalia knew it could be worse, and most of the people were polite in a âNew Yorker bribed with candyâ sort of way. She didnât even mind the uniform, even though she had to take out several new piercings and cover up some of her favorite new tattoos to keep up the âsqueaky clean and wholesomeâ image that the manager insisted on.
She was relaxed but she was focused, she was driven but she was content. There were no unresolved curses she needed to worry about, there weren't any gods she had offended with displays of hubris (apart from Hera who resented her for existing), so there was no reason why her âhumors were unbalancedâ or whatever explanation the children in Cabin Seven tried to tell her was the issue.
But fact was, one day she sneezed and everything electric â not just in âSweet On Americaâ but in the whole of Grand Central â violently shorted out⊠including the train.
âThe terrible twenties,â Thalia repeated flatly. She refused to say it like she was asking a question, the stupid name told the whole story. She wasnât asking Chiron to elaborate or clarify anything for her, she was demanding he make it sound even a little bit dignified.
âYes, the name is perhaps a bit flippant,â Chiron admitted. âI know it sounds like a funny problem-â
âIt doesnât,â Thalia said sourly.
â-but itâs not,â Chiron finished resolutely. âEspecially in your case. Every half-blood of sufficiently powerful heritage and legacy â such as yourself and your brother â will undergo changes when hitting their physical prime.â
âIâve watched the educational videos,â said Thalia, crinkling her nose. Those particularly vague and unhelpful but still somehow salacious âdemigod pubertyâ movies were the stuff of persistent, tittering gossip around Camp Halfblood.
âNot those sorts of changes,â Chiron assured her, falling into his âeducatorâ tone. âOnce a demigod begins to reach their physical peak, their powers begin to fully manifest in a unique fashion. Normally there would be an outlet for them to channel this excess energy, a prolonged quest or, unfortunately, an ongoing war.â
âOr they just die before then,â Mr. D said from his seat, lightly vibrating. Bunch of brown-nosing goodie-two-shoes at Camp had scraped together a collection and gifted the disgraced deity, sometimes acting Camp Director, a massage chair. He had been insufferably laid-back and contented in the damn thing, and somehow knew precisely who didnât chip in to get him this latest offering. âCanât forget them just dying before then, can we?â
Thalia was reminded exactly why she did not put aside some of her money from meager living expenses to help buy his luxury chair, and resignedly predicted that sheâd not be getting any help from Mr. D in this matter. Not that her chances were good before then.Â
âYes,â Chiron said slowly, disapproving. âEspecially in the last few decades weâve had particularly bad luck with all of the strife and misery, making it hard to keep half-bloods alive once they aged-out of Camp⊠normally the eldest surviving siblings would teach the younger, but there havenât been children or legacies of Zeus in decades.â
âSo Iâm on my own,â Thalia surmised bitterly. âLike usual. Patient zero. Chiron, I canât go out in public, be around people if I canât control my powers. I canât be around things if I canât keep these powers under control â what if they goes off near, like, a hospital or an airport? Technology is all over the place now, and if I short some of it out people could get hurt. Really badly hurt.âÂ
It was a small miracle that no one was hurt when the train had shut off, emergency brakes kicking in when systems started to fail. Come to think of it, âSweet On Americaâ ended up doing good business that day as irritable and distressed New Yorkers finding themselves at a sudden stop decided to treat themselves, though the employees were annoyed by the extra effort required as the card reader had been shorted-out too and everything needed to be paid for in cash.
Chiron nodded sympathetically. When he next spoke, it was carefully and thoughtfully, to either break bad news or give hard advice. âHeracles was in a similar position to you long ago. People were hurt when his powers fully realized, and his were less impressive than yours. The entire world is less impressive for that matter, and less complicated too. I did my best for him as long as I could before his instruction and education was passed along to others, and his Labors and other deeds kept him active and helped him realize his full potential.â
âYou havenât trained me,â Thalia thought bitterly. âMost of my time spent at this Camp was as a tree, I wasnât trained or protected.â But then she saw the wry, self-deprecating smile on Chironâs face and felt immediately guilty; he had probably heard it all before, from children far more unlucky than her, born in less civilized times with even less friends to help them.
âYour father has issued a special command to see you receive a measure of education,â Chiron explained. âTraining to understand your powers and control them better, with a hand-picked instructor.â
Unbidden, Thalia found her eyes turning skeptically to Mr. D, her half-brother and full-fledged deity Dionysus, still luxuriating in his massage chair.Â
His half-lidded purplish eyes didnât even glance in her direction but he seemed to feel her stare all the same. âNot a chance, Tallahassee.â
âYeah that tracks,â Thalia thought, resisting the urge to short-circuit the chair and looking back to Chiron inquiringly. âWell then, who?â
She didnât dare think that her father would be the one to come down from Olympus to teach her, having already discarded the imaginings of a child thinking Lord Zeus would disguise himself as a helpful old hermit or kindly mystery tutor to instruct her throughout all the difficult times in her life. No, Zeus worked by proxies and subtleties if he deigned to help her at all. Her resentment towards his absence had faded into a numbness that could be mistaken for acceptance, acknowledging that he had other duties to attend to, other responsibilities, an image to maintain, and Hera to contend with.Â
âYour father found a very knowledgeable scholar, further inland up the East Coast,â Chiron explained, searching in the pocket of his tweed jacket before pulling out a business card (calm-cloud-nine white with raised engraving and a tasteful watermark, it freaked Thalia out a bit how quickly she noticed all that) with directions written on the back in a tidy scrawl, her brain hardwired to instinctively read this Ancient Greek from Zeusâ own hand. âI must ask that you leave in the morning; weâve arranged travel that should be both agreeable to you and that your fluctuating powers wonât disrupt.â
Thalia was touched by the gesture, and secretly glad they werenât expecting her to fly. Even without the possibility of short-circuiting a plane, the thought of being that high⊠âWait, what about, you know, my job? I canât take time off after I just started-?â
Now Chiron looked amused. âI know you havenât always received my most attentive care Thalia, but do you really think I wouldnât be able to provide the means to look after your affairs? After everything youâve done to help this Camp?â
âYeah yeah, the Camp store will âinexplicablyâ be stocked with an abundance of âSweet On Americaâ candies and sugary junk,â Mr. D groused, his relaxed mood broken through by a surge of fresh irritation. âLike all these brats needed more energyâŠâ
âThey have wine gums,â Chiron said. âClaret, blackcurrant, burgundy, portâŠâ
âAnd I say the gods shall bless âSweet On Americaâ,â Mr. D said grandly, leaning back in his chair with renewed good cheer and jiggling distractingly as the setting adjusted to accommodate him, causing Thalia to firmly shift her gaze back to Chiron.
âIâm sure at least one will,â Chiron said knowingly. As he handed the card to Thalia though, his tone turned serious once again. âItâs important that you donât mention your history to this man. At least, not at length or detail. He does not know the full extent of your heritage, but what he does know is more than enough to help you. Any more might prove a complication, and your father is already risking much for your sake. Also, do not ask him about his own past or powers, just know thatâŠâ Chiron faltered, trying to find the right phrase or explanation and coming up persistently short.
This got Thalia even more intrigued rather than nervous, looking over the card, the directions leading to a place called âGreendaleâ, hardly a sinister-sounding locale. âChiron? Is he dangerous?â
âHe is safe, not harmless,â Chiron said with decisive finality, trusting that Thalia knew the difference (she did). âThe troubling thing is that heâs markedly, ah, eccentric.â
Now that got Thalia to raise an eyebrow. âIn what way?â
And to that, Chiron extended his hands in a way decidedly foreign to the ancient trainer of demigods and heroes, the universal âwhat can you do?â gesture of one who long resigned to be in a state of confusion. âIn every way.â
