Gifted to @disenchantedglow for being an all-around wonderful person
Summary: Sometimes it’s the quiet, unnoticed ones who grab your heart and don’t let go.
*
They’re always paired together in activities that require opposite genders and equivalent heights. She’s the only girl in her year that tops six feet, and Ron is well over six feet even if he hunches, as though he's used to making himself a smaller target for his brothers.
Millicent, or Millie to her friends, knows what that's like. She has a slew of older sisters, all slim and petite and giggling and pretty. She’s felt like a giant toad all her life. It doesn’t matter that she likes unicorns as much as the next giggly girl, or dancing, or makeup and pretty things. It all seems ridiculous on her thick, bumbling build.
If there’s a spell on how to make yourself daintier or prettier, Millie wants to know. She'd probably spend a fortune on it.
She doesn’t even know what draws her attention to Ron Weasley in the first place. Maybe the fact that he seems so real and awkward. His face is always turning shades of red whenever he’s made fun of by the girls in Gryffindor; either by Hermione for a mistake on a subject, Ginny for acting like he’s someone special, or Parvati and Lavender for doing silly boy things. Still, he never turns a hair, even if his face might be the colour of an overripe tomato—he laughs at himself as though being the brunt of a joke is something fun.
It isn’t fun. Millie knows this, and she admires how he can play it off as though it doesn’t hurt.
It has to hurt, playing second fiddle to Harry the Chosen One Potter. Potter’s the one with the money, the fame, the glory. He has girls who throw themselves on him and a way with words that Ron fumbles to imitate. He's got an ease with Quidditch that Millie admires even though she shouldn’t, being in an opposing house with a history of hostile rivalry.
In everything, Ron is only second best, and that’s something Millie can relate to.
When she drops her books in the hallway, there is nobody there who notices and bends down to pick them up with her. It’s just Millie. Being her normal, clumsy, cow-like self.
Only a pair of scuffed shoes stop a little ways from her. One large freckled hand reaches over and gathers the books farthest from her, one by one. He stares at her for a moment before handing them over, stacked in a haphazard fashion. “There. They really should give us lighter texts, you know?” he says, and for just a minute, he flashes his unguarded smile before lurching upright and loping off down the hall.
Millie watches him go. He was like that sometimes. Terrible in the spotlight, but in one on one encounters, someone pleasant and likable. Someone with a strong undercurrent of gallantry, even for the underdog like Millie.
Sometimes it’s the quiet, unnoticed ones who grab your heart and don’t let go. The bright ones glow for the world to see, but it’s the ones in the shadows who are the secret everyday heroes.
Prompt: from @nuclearnik Order safehouse during the war
*
We two make home of any place we go;
We two find joy in any kind of weather;
Or if the earth is clothed in bloom or snow,
If summer days invite, or bleak winds blow,
What matters it, if we two are together?
We two, we two, we make our world, our weather.
We Two, Ella Wheeler Wilcox
*
It isn’t supposed to happen like this, but sometimes things happen when you’re on the run.
Emotions run high, panic sets in, and there’s that thrilling sense of euphoria when you escape by the skin of your teeth. Running like there's tomorrow, because maybe there won't be one.
Afterwards, when you’re laughing and holding onto each other and trying not to fall down where you stand, there are shared glances and shared memories.
Can you believe that just happened?
No, no, I can’t. We were almost caught!
Well, we weren’t. But it was a very close call.
It’s lucky you were there.
Same. Same.
There’s a lot of handholding and quiet times, especially when the night is so dark that not even candles can banish the shadows. The sun seems especially weak, as though it’s fading away next to the horrors pursuing you. The cold is such that not even fire or magic can charm it away; it's in your bones—it comes from that sinking feeling deep within you; it's there to make your teeth chatter, chatter, chatter.
The only spot of brightness is the person with you; if you let go of their hand, it almost seems like you’d be swallowed by the blackness completely.
Where are you?
Here. Here.
I can’t—
I’ve got you. Hold my hand.
Hermione…
Tighter. Tighter.
Even when you should feel safe and surrounded by others, you feel disconnected somehow. Like the levity and raucousness around you is happening to someone else, like they’re someone else’s Pensieve memories, and you’re just walking around in them like an invisible and intangible ghost. There’s only that one other person who’s not one of them, and it’s the only person who understands how you feel when you catch their eye in a crowd.
Sometimes you feel like you’re talking to them across the distance, without any magical means.
Just you. Just them.
This food is so much better than what we had.
Can you believe how much food there is here?
We could have used some of these spells.
You should eat more.
You too.
It almost seems inevitable what happens after that, as though everything that came before this was divination that you completely missed. Hints that you ignored. Foreshadowing that you dismissed.
In the dark of the night, when everyone’s asleep, snuggled into the kind of rest that comes with living in a house with four walls and a host of other people to protect you, there’s only them. Walking towards you. Slowly. Softly. A wand held up to illuminate the angles and slopes of their faces, as though you wouldn’t have been able to paint them with your eyes closed.
Couldn’t sleep?
Yeah. You?
I’ll have years of sleep to catch up on if I’m still alive after this.
Oh, Harry…
Just hold my hand.
Always.
Was it always inevitable, you sometimes wonder? If not for this war, for the things that went before, for all the things that were set in motion before you even existed—would this be where you ended up?
With you. With them. With the two of you against the world.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Scant Love Not
While flowering, ladies, scant love not
Lest all your fruit
Be but this black outcrop of stones
—Sylvia Plath, Two Sisters of Persephone
As someone who prided herself as an intellectual, it was perhaps appropriate that Hermione would be knocked off her lofty perch by a massively inexplicable infatuation.
She had always admired Ron’s tall, broad-shouldered build; he had the type of naturally athletic figure that sent very unintellectual butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He looked like how a man should; strong, tall, with the bluest eyes she had ever seen on a person. It was not—well, unnatural that she should develop a tiny crush on him. They had grown up together, after all, and what girl hadn’t fantasised about marrying her childhood sweetheart?
It was just a pity that they weren’t interested in the same things at all and that most of their conversations were so contentious that she was annoyed for weeks afterwards. Everything she said seemed to set Ron off and vice versa. Sometimes she found him so irritating that she wanted to hex his face off.
Then Hermione met Bill Weasley.
Suddenly she understood her infatuation with Ron was just a small, miniscule shadow of the real thing.
It was terrible to compare brothers. Hermione knew this. Ron was the last of the brothers, and Bill had been the first, the scion, the bright star in the happy horizon of Molly and Arthur’s blissful nuptials. Their upbringing would have been completely different, and yet—
—And yet, Hermione couldn’t help seeing in Bill all the things she had admired in Ron, and more.
Everything about Bill Weasley was just more. He was the best looking of the brothers, with a cleancut, chiseled jawline that Hermione couldn’t help but peer at and admire secretly. Less superficial than his looks, however, was his intelligence, his love of books and knowledge, and his gentlemanly chivalry. Everything about him was just more, more, more, and Hermione couldn’t help but compare every single boy she met after that to him.
It was unfair. She knew this. He was almost a decade older. She knew this too. He was completely out of her league since she was still in school and his little brother’s friend. She knew all of this.
—And yet, it didn’t dim her infatuation. Not one bit.
xxx
Every year that Bill remained single was another year in which Hermione hoped and prayed to grow up to be his equal. It was hard not letting her fantasies get out of control when he finally announced his intention of returning to Gringotts in London.
This was a sign—wasn't it?
The logical part of Hermione's brain had gone on permanent vacation, replaced by someone who had perpetual heart eyes whenever she thought of Bill Weasley. It got so bad that her relationship with Ron was more acrimonious than ever. Before, she had swallowed her ire in favour of diplomacy, but now that civility had been exchanged for a coldness that rivaled first year animosity. Harry, bless his heart, submerged in the troubles of the Tournament and on the outs with Ron, didn’t even notice.
She no longer waited for Ron to step up and be a man anymore—no, she had someone else in mind for that. When Viktor Krum asked her to the Yule Ball, it hadn’t been with Viktor in mind that she accepted. In the back of her mind, she had thought, older boys liked her. They found her attractive. Wouldn’t he also?
She was turning ugly and dark on the inside, but the grip of a teenage infatuation was strong, overpowering. She was doodling his name on her notebooks rather than notes from class. Something inside her told her she was being unfair to Ron, that she should do something to heal the rift between him and Harry, but her mind was focused on other things. Other possibilities for the future. A meeting between two minds.
Surely he’d see her. He’d really and truly see her, not as a little girl, but as an equal.
xxx
It was a shock when Ginny first mentioned that Bill was dating Fleur Delacour.
He couldn’t. Hermione listened with white-lipped shock.
“Two months now,” Ginny said with a grimace. “Ugh, I can’t stand her.”
Ginny had a fairly good relationship with all her brothers, but with Bill and the age gap between them, there was a special bond. She was filled with acrimony at the interloper Fleur. She was haughty, she was snooty, she thought everything about England was terrible—then why didn’t she simply go away and leave Bill alone?
In her thudding heart, Hermione couldn’t agree more. “Maybe it’s not serious.”
“Merlin, I hope not.” Ginny rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror and added another layer of lip gloss. “I couldn’t stand her during the Tournament, what with Ron following her everywhere, but now this is even worse.”
It was much worse. Hermione remembered Fleur’s unnatural effect on Ron, and her heart sank. What if—what if the Weasleys were more susceptible to Veela than other wizards? Harry hadn’t been as affected, after all, nor some of the other boys in class. Ron—perhaps Ron had been a special case?
Ron wasn’t a special case, and Bill proved it by proposing to Fleur over the disapproval of his mother.
“They were going to live abroad, but then Bill decided to settle down in England.” Despite her gloomy air, Ginny managed to pop an astounding three Cauldron cakes at a time into her mouth. “I hope they’re not going to live at home. I can’t stand to have all of my brothers mooning over her. What makes her so special anyway?”
“She’s—”
“She’s not even that pretty. It’s completely the Veela thing, because all the other girls in school thought she was too bony and pointy-looking. Kind of like a bird, if you ask me.”
“It’s not the looks,” Hermione said, remembering what had been in her textbook.
“I know.” Ginny’s subdued response was almost covered up by the rustling she made digging around inside the snack box. “I know. It’s the allure. They could be as ugly as a troll, and nobody would care.”
“Yeah.” Hermione was feeling fairly gloomy herself. If someone like Fleur, who was already thin and elegant and pretty, had on top of that the allure of a Veela, what chance did bookish, frizzy-haired Hermione have? None. Added to it all was her age. She was fifteen. The distance, in mere numbers, meant nothing to her, but in practical terms, Bill could have physically been on the moon itself.
“Let’s hope she latches onto someone else.” Ginny tossed the empty cauldron cake box across the room towards the rubbish bin.
Hermione turned to watch the box spin a little before going in the bin. She turned and smiled at Ginny before shaking her head. “Will she though? I mean, Bill’s pretty—” She caught herself before she spilled out all her feelings towards him. She bit her tongue before continuing. “He’s a really good catch.”
“I know. He’s tall, he’s good-looking, he’s extremely charming. He even makes a lot of money at Gringotts, much more than she does, since she’s just starting out. I just don’t see how she could find someone better, considering that she’s part-Veela, and—” Ginny’s voice dropped to a stage whisper “—not exactly acceptable to a lot of Purebloods.”
Then what chance do I have? Hermione thought mournfully to herself. Aloud, she could only repeat her words again, “Yeah. I know.”
xxx
They were married.
Before the bridal party came down, Hermione bumped into Bill outside near the marquee.
“Beg pardon,” Bill said instinctively, hands clasping Hermione on the upper arms to steady her. He glanced down and smiled, as though only realising it was her. “Oh, Hermione, how are you?”
“Good, good.” Hermione felt and sounded, to her own ears, a little breathless.
“You look lovely in that dress.” Bill was smiling in his usual open, charming way. Hermione thought miserably that any children Bill and Fleur were bound to have would have an unnaturally unfair advantage over the rest of the population.
“Thank you,” she said, keeping her eyes down so that her love for him wouldn’t shine through so obviously. Her fingers twisted at a fold in her skirt.
“I’ve heard from Ron that—well, you’re probably the only reason those two are still alive and kicking, aren’t you?” His voice lowered, as though imparting a joke, and a sliver of awareness crawled up Hermione’s spine.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s vastly overstating my—contributions.” She was floundering for small talk. This was misery, and yet she did not want it to end.
“Anyway, thank you for helping out. This can’t be that much fun for you.”
“It’s—nothing,” she said, her voice trailing off as his attention was called away. Hermione was left staring after his disappearing figure. The pangs she put into her own appearance seemed silly now. Had she truly wanted him to see what he was missing? She felt like an idiot now.
She felt even worse when the ceremony started, and Fleur came through the archway looking like a fairy princess. She glowed so brightly that she might have been an actual celestial star passing through the darkness of their presence. When everyone watched and gasped over Fleur’s appearance, all Hermione’s attention was fastened on Bill’s profile. Her heart twisted inside her chest.
She wished with all her might that he was looking at her in that way.
#throwback to happy days in the Caribbean when social distancing wasn't even a thing. Was it only a month ago? This month has felt so long. #teamAphrodite (at Sint Maarten, Netherlands Antilles) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-4I4L-pWen/?igshid=1l6vxh1b6yj1z
I have been waiting to write this fic. I am so glad this project gave me the excuse to finally write it. Dedicated to @allarica, who can bite me.
Title: Promises Made
Prompt: "A Whole New World” / Kingdom Hearts crossover
Pairing: Will/Mitchell
Rating: PG
Length: 2,509 words
Warnings: Character death.
Summary: As Percy and Nico fight Kronos’ Heartless in the throne room of Olympus, Will and Mitchell are sent to guard the Door to Kingdom Hearts.
It was the final struggle between the demigods of Camp Half-Blood and the Heartless, led by Kronos, the Titan Heartless that had possessed one of their own, a son of Hermes, Luke Castellan. Some demigods said Luke had let Kronos possess him, others said it was done against Luke’s will. No one knew what to believe, really. All they knew was that Luke was lost to them, Kronos in control of the demigod’s body and using it now to attack Mount Olympus, intending to destroy the Keyhole in the throne room.
There was a group of demigods already on Olympus, led by Percy Jackson, one of the Keybearers that had been chosen to defend Camp Half-Blood and Olympus. Having already locked the Keyholes in the Sea of Monsters and in the Labyrinth, Percy had quickly become a great hero in the camp and was looked up to by most of the demigods there. So when he’d taken charge of the assault against the Titan army, most of them had readily followed his orders.
Three other Keybearers were with Percy on Mount Olympus - Nico di Angelo, wielder of the Oblivion; Mitchell Reddy, bearing the Crown of Guilt; and Will Solace, carrying the Aubade. The plan was that the four of them would split up on Olympus. Percy would lead the charge against Kronos, with a handful of other demigods as back up. Nico would be taking up the defense outside the throne room to keep any of Kronos’ minions from getting in.
Will and Mitchell had an important job to do. Somewhere on Olympus, Hestia had told Percy, was the Door to Kingdom Hearts, the heart of all worlds. She’d warned Percy that, if Kronos succeeded in destroying the Olympus Keyhole, his next target would be Kingdom Hearts itself. Taking the goddess’ advice, Percy had assigned Will and Mitchell to find and guard the Door.
So that’s what they were doing. It was no easy task, as Olympus had gone dark, with all the Olympians locked away, save for Hestia, who still guarded her flame. The darkness gave way to Heartless by the dozen, Shadows and Soldiers leaping out to try to stop Mitchell and Will from their task. Keyblades swung, magic burst, and potions were shared to make the trek across the home of the gods. Neither Will nor Mitchell were particularly adept fighters, both of them heavily reliant on magic to supplement their attacks, but they made their way around together.
They eventually found the Door, after scouring every part of Olympus. Following the advice of one of the minor deities - a young man who had once been a mortal demigod like them - Will led Mitchell into a cavern on the mountain It had been guarded at one point, if the discarded weapons outside were anything to judge by, but the guards were gone. Will took Mitchell’s hand and the two of them went inside, following the path, guided only by the glow of Will’s golden Keyblade.
At the end of the path, in a deep cavern, stood a large double door. White panels accentuated with diamond-shaped stained glass window stretched high above the two demigods as Will and Mitchell approached the Door. Looking at it, Mitchell could hardly believe that this door, so simple and innocuous, was the Door that Kronos would use to destroy Western Civilization and begin a new age of his own design.
“Kind of seems like it doesn’t fit the hype, does it?” Will asked as he looked up at the Door. “It doesn’t look like it’s potentially world-threatening.”
Mitchell stepped forward towards the Door, placing one gloved hand on its surface. “No, it doesn’t,” he murmured. “That’s what makes it scary, isn’t it?”
Will nodded. “Guess so. We’ll have to make sure Kronos can’t use it.” He hefted his Keyblade up and turned his back on the Door, readying himself in case any Heartless, or Kronos himself, broke into the cavern to attack. “Hopefully, Percy and the others have a handle on everything on the surface.”
“Hopefully,” Mitchell murmured. He raised his own Keyblade and shifted his position.
For a while, it seemed like everything was probably going well on the surface. No Heartless had breached the cavern yet, leaving Will and Mitchell alone in silence. Mitchell eventually broke the silence, just unable to stand still for so long in the quiet without speaking. He was beginning to get nervous and when he was nervous, he had to speak up to calm his mind. He asked Will what he planned to do when this war was over, if he was going to stay at camp for a while or if he was going to go home to his mortal family.
Mitchell had known Will for a couple of years now, ever since the first summer he’d been at Camp Half-Blood. Will had gotten to camp for the first time only a few days before Mitchell, staying in the Hermes cabin for a single night before being claimed by Apollo. Mitchell had barely been in the Hermes cabin for a few hours before Aphrodite had claimed him. The two of them had spoken a few times that first summer, though it seemed like they hadn’t really gotten to know each other until the summer after.
Mitchell alternately blamed and thanked his sister, Silena, for giving him a push towards Will, having picked up on the crush that Mitchell was only beginning to realize he had on the older demigod. His sister had dragged him to a small group game of Spin the Bottle and, he would swear by their mother that Silena had rigged the game, the bottle had pointed directly at Will when it was Mitchell’s turn. It had been Mitchell’s first kiss and he suspected that it was Will’s, too. Will had been nervous about it and the kiss had been pretty chaste, but Mitchell hadn’t forgotten it.
Will hadn’t talked about it after, though, so Mitchell was left wondering if it meant anything for the son of Apollo or if it had just been a game.
He thought about asking Will about it now, while he had the chance, with it just being the two of them, but as he opened his mouth to speak up again, there was a sudden, lurching earthquake. The cavern ceiling shook and stalactites cracked free from their bases and began plummeting from the ceiling. Will lunged towards Mitchell, shoving the other boy out of the way of a falling stalactite, casting a quick Barrier to protect the two of them as he slipped his arm around Mitchell’s waist.
Mitchell found himself blushing as they hit the ground, Will on top of him as his Barrier kept them from getting injured by falling debris. He looked up to Will as the son of Apollo pushed himself up. Worried blue eyes peeked out under Will’s blond bangs as the older demigod looked back down at Mitchell.
“Are you alright?” Will asked.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Mitchell replied. He tilted his head up towards the cavern ceiling, his golden-brown eyes widening as he caught sight of a giant Heartless above them. “Oh my gods. Is that...Kronos?”
Will followed Mitchell’s line of sight and a soft curse escaped his lips. “Looks like we’re joining the fight.”
* * * * *
Kronos wasn’t going to go down that easily. It took all for Keybearers to weaken him, Percy and Nico taking the offensive while Will and Mitchell backed them up with magic support and healing spells. Kronos refused to give up, though. Still mostly confined to Luke’s body, with a symbiotic Heartless Guardian protecting his weaker form, the Titan was eventually subdued, but he still would not give in to the Keybearers.
“Foolish demigods!” Kronos bellowed. He unleashed a wave of force, knocking all four of them back. Darkness gathered around him and his symbiote grew in size. “You will not stop me! Your powers are no match for the power I will be granted.” He stood, forcing Luke’s body past its limits as he raised his arms, golden eyes falling on the Door standing in the cavern. “Kingdom Hearts! I command you! Fill me with the power of Darkness!”
The Door, much to the shock of all the Keybearers, began to open. A loud groan echoed through the cavern from the Door as it opened for the first time in who knew how long. Kronos began to laugh, a sinister sound that struck at the heart. Mitchell reached for Will’s hand, grasping it as he stared at the Door.
This can’t be the end! Mitchell thought, terrified. He gripped at Will’s hand and, though it was little reassurance, he felt Will squeeze back. It can’t end like this!
“Luke!” Annabeth darted into the cavern from the entrance Will and Mitchell had taken. Though the daughter of Athena had no Keyblade, only her dagger, she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She leapt at Luke, dagger drawn. “Fight him, Luke! You promised! Family, Luke!”
Mitchell had no idea what Annabeth was on about, but he knew that she had once been close to Luke. She’d always been adamant about trying to save the son of Hermes, defending him even as the rest of camp lost their faith in him. Mitchell had come to camp after Luke’s initial betrayal, so he never knew anything more than what he heard through Silena. Whatever Annabeth’s relationship with Luke before, her words now seemed to break through the hold Kronos had on him -
- if only for a short moment.
Kronos threw Annabeth back and the girl’s dagger clattered to the cavern floor. The Titan began to laugh again. “Promises are made to be broken, Annabeth Chase!” he declared. “The only promise I keep is the promise to destroy you all!”
Kronos took a step towards the Door, then froze. Silence fell in the cavern, Kronos’ laughter cut off suddenly. For a moment, no one had any idea what was going on. The five demigods all held their breath, none of them daring to make a move. Kronos seemed to be struggling to move and the next words out of his mouth gave the reason why.
“You’re wrong,” Luke spoke aloud. It was definitely Luke’s voice, not Kronos’. “About promises...about Kingdom Hearts…” Luke slowly extended one arm, reaching for the dagger on the floor. Kronos wouldn’t let him kneel for it. “Kingdom Hearts...is Light!”
The Door suddenly flew open and the entire cavern was flooded with a brilliant white light. Kronos cried out, blinded, while the rest of those in the cavern covered their eyes.
“Percy, I can’t reach…” Luke called out to the demigod closest to him. “The knife!”
Mitchell couldn’t see anything for all the light in the cavern. He had no idea what was going on. He kept his hand in Will’s, holding tight to the other boy. If they survived this, he decided, he was going to tell the son of Apollo how he felt.
A scream of pain and rage rang out suddenly and Mitchell felt a blast of energy knock him back. He lost his grip on Will’s hand and he called the other boy’s name. The light from the Door died after a moment and Mitchell could finally see again.
Luke lay on the cavern floor. The symbiote Heartless was gone, all sign of Kronos gone. Blood pooled under the son of Hermes. Percy and Annabeth both knelt by Luke. Will was just a few feet away from Mitchell, looking around the cavern. Mitchell looked around himself and knew something was wrong.
There were only four demigods in the cavern, where there should be five.
“Nico!”
Mitchell and Will both ran for the open Door. On either side of the double doors, the two of them looked inside. It was dark inside, the only light they could see on the horizon. In the distance, they could see the silhouettes of several Darkside Heartless inside the Door. And, peering closely, Mitchell could see the form of the son of Hades in the distance, his Keyblade in hand.
Will started to go inside. Mitchell grabbed his hand. “Will, no!”
“Someone has to help him,” Will told the other boy. “Mitchell, he can’t fight all those Heartless on his own.”
“Will! Mitchell!” Percy called from behind them. “Quick, we need to close the Door!”
Mitchell didn’t want to close the door. Nico was in there and Will was going to go in to help the other demigod. “Will, please,” he pleaded. “You can’t go in there. The Door - ”
Will bit his lip and let his gaze fall on the doors. “We have to close it together,” he told Mitchell. He pulled his hand out of Mitchell’s and stepped through to the other side, turning around and grabbing the edge of the door. “Together, Mitchell.”
Mitchell’s heart pounded in his chest. Will meant to close the Door from the other side. He was willingly letting himself be locked in the Realm of Darkness. “You can’t - ”
Will leaned towards Mitchell suddenly, pressing his lips to the other boy’s. Mitchell froze, his hand gripping to the Door as Will kissed him. It wasn’t the same chaste kiss that Will had given him before. This kiss was more poignant, carried so much more feeling. It was an admittance, that Will liked him, that he probably hadn’t forgotten that first kiss, that it hadn’t just been a game. Mitchell leaned into the kiss, deepening it slightly and letting his own feelings flow into it.
Will held the kiss for a long moment, until Percy shouted at them to hurry. The son of Apollo brought his free hand up to touch Mitchell’s cheek for a moment. “We’ll find a way out. I swear by my father’s lyre.”
“Will…”
“Come on, Mitchell,” the other boy prompted. He gripped to the Door again. “Together we can do it.”
Mitchell wanted to cry. Closing the Door would have been hard enough, but then Will had to go and kiss him first. How could he just close the Door and let Will be locked in the Realm of Darkness? Even if Will swore to find a way out, to get himself and Nico back, how long would it take? Would he succeed?
“Mitchell.”
Mitchell fought back the tears and pressed his hands against the Door. He lifted his head and locked his eyes with Will’s. “Promise me!”
Will nodded, gripping to the Door. “I’ll come back to you, I promise!”
Between the two of them, with Will pulling and Mitchell pushing, the Door slowly closed. Mitchell peeked through the crack of the Door at the last moment and caught a smile on Will’s lips, proud and heartbroken at the same time. Those lips parted for one last message, but the Door clicked shut before Will could speak. The last words Mitchell knew from the son of Apollo was his promise to come back.
Mitchell fell to his knees in front of the Door, one hand against it. “I know you will.”
Sally meeting Tyson for the first time and he's very scared she won't like him but then she basically ends up adopting him as a second son.
Title: Meeting Ms. Jackson Prompt: First TimesPairing: Platonic Sally/ Tyson, Sally/ Paul Rating: GLength: 976 words Warnings: NoneSummary: See the Ask.
Furthermore, a shoutout to @talysalankil for the help with ideas for a plot and explanations towards it. Also, this is a birthday present, albeit belated, to @skipper91222-fanfiction. Happy birthday, Olivia.
After Percy ran off, Sally and Paul remained in the entry hall of the Empire State building. Sally sighed. “He just saved the world, but he can’t seem to catch a break.” She broke into a tired smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad he’s safe and proud of him, but I wish his duties would leave him alone long enough so I could spend some more time with him.”
Paul rubbed her shoulder. “Sally, you know him. After having saved the world, I doubt he’ll really have much trouble. He’s through the worst; I’m sure of that.”
“I know, Paul, but as a mother, I can’t help but worry about my little boy, even if he’s not so little anymore.”
“Sally, I understand your worry, but he has fought a war and survived. He’ll be fine.”
“I know,” she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. She then turned towards her husband. “Darling, are you okay with waiting a bit for Percy? We can stay outside for a bit while we wait. Even if he doesn’t come, I still want to wait.”
Paul embraced her, patting her on her head. “Of course, Sally. Why don’t we inform the portier and then stay outside to help the others?”
Tyson scratched his chin, still a little embarassed by the honour of his promotion. A general! At his age! Father and his family were generous. As he stepped out of the elevator, the man at the front table called out to him, seemingly unintimidated by his appearance.
“Mr. Tyson, son of Poseidon?” the man asked him. Tyson, albeit confused, nodded. “I was told Ms. Sally Jackson is somewhere around the Empire State building. She might want to talk to you due to her son leaving abruptly.” He continued on to describe her and a man named Paul to the cyclope.
“General Tyson, what is our next course of action?” one of his men asked.
Tyson turned around. “Everyone of you, stand by in the lobby until everyone is assembled. I’ll check out the situation of Miss Jackson. Await further orders when I return.”
After seeing them off, he exited the building, feeling more and more nervous. Percy had talked about his mother multiple times, always talkin with a fondness he hardly saw at other times. Sally had to be a good person, but still, she was Percy’s mom. Since Tyson had never known his own, he had no idea what to expect. Were mothers scary? Was Sally scary? Even worse, what if she didn’t like him?
Tyson tried to calm down. He was now the general of the Olympian forces. He was supposed to be brave! He could do this!
His resolve didn’t stop his hands from shaking, unfortunately.
Not too long after, he found Percy’s mom and the guy she was said to be with. His hands trembled all over again. What was he supposed to say? Percy told him to always introduce himself and be polite, but how should he explain this situation? He swallowed, fidgeting a bit on the spot. Due to his eye which was firmly directed at the pavement aside from occasional glances to Percy’s mom, he didn’t notice the lady approaching him.
“Who are you?”, she asked, smiling at him.
“Uhm… I’m Tyson, Ms. Jackson,” he stuttered.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tyson. Who told you my name? And is there something you would like to do or say?” she continued, the smile never leaving her face. He felt the knots within himself untangling. She seemed nice.
“Uhm, it was the man in the big building. He said you’re Percy’s mom and that you could want to talk to me?” he said, more at ease. He could do this.
“Percy?” she asked, her face and posture tensing up. “Did something happen?”
“Not that I know, ma’am,” Tyson replied. “I’m, uh… I should maybe explain. The man said you could see through the mist, right?” Sally nodded. “Well, then you can probably see what I am.” Sally nodded again, her fists in her sides. “Well, I’m… I’m Percy’s brother and… Where is big brother? And how should I help you?”
Sally’s pupils widened. “You’re a son of Poseidon as well?” she asked. The question of help seemed to go unnoticed.
“I’m, uh… Yes, ma’m.”
“Percy did mention a little brother of his! So you’re Tyson. I’m excited to meet you!” she cheered, the man now having closed in as well.
“Sally, who could this young man be?” he asked. His voice sounded soothing.
“Ah, I should introduce you. Tyson, this is Paul, my husband and Percy’s stepfather. Paul, this is Tyson, Percy’s half-brother.”
Paul and Tyson freezed. “Half-brother? Does that mean…?”
“He’s a cyclops.”
“A cyclops.”
“It’s a demigod thing. His father’s the god of the sea and his mother a sea nymph.”
“He looks normal, albeit rather big.”
“The mist, Paul.”
“Ah, yes, dear. I always forget about that.”
Tyson shifted on his feet. Sally turned around towards him again. “Anyway, Tyson, my dear, you offered help, didn’t you? Could you maybe try to help the other people here for a little while? We’re waiting for Percy; if he comes back, the portier is to notify us.”
Tyson stood firmly and nodded. An order, he could take.
“Thank you, my dear. Why don’t you join us after this for a little? We can’t stay here all the time, but once we get home, I’d love to hear about you.”
Tyson’s face lit up. “Yes, ma’am!” he cheered, turning around to ask his cyclops friends to join in and help. With their combined strength, they’d help the people in no time!
“Oh, and one thing, my dear?” Percy’s mom called. Tyson turned around. “Call me Sally, okay? Since you’re Percy’s brother, you’re my son as well, after all.”
