Chapter Text
How did you get all these scars?
It happened one afternoon, right after swim practice. Percy was drying off in the locker room, pulling his towel over his shoulders when he noticed Matt staring at him. His teammate’s usual easygoing expression was replaced with something more serious, almost concerned.
“Uh, Percy,” Matt started, his voice hesitant, “you alright, man?”
Percy frowned. “Yeah, why?”
Matt pointed at Percy’s back. “Those scars… where did they come from?”
Percy froze. The Mist—normally so reliable at hiding his unusual battle wounds from mortal eyes—was slipping. Slowly, he turned to check his reflection in the mirror by the lockers. Sure enough, a network of faint silvery scars was clearly visible across his skin: marks from swords, claws, and talons earned during his quests. They were always there, but the Mist usually hid them from mortal sight, making them seem like nothing more than faint, unremarkable scratches.
“Must’ve been from a bike accident a few years ago,” Percy said quickly, trying to sound casual. He reached for his shirt, hoping to cover up before the questions got worse.
But Jake, one of the younger guys on the team, wasn’t letting it go. “No way, man. I’ve fallen off my bike a hundred times, and I don’t look like that. It’s like you’ve been in a fight… with something big.”
There was a murmur of agreement from a couple of the other guys nearby, and Percy felt a wave of panic rise in his chest. This was bad. The Mist wasn’t doing its job anymore, and now his friends—his mortal friends—were starting to see things they shouldn’t. How could he explain the scars that came from battles against monsters no one else could even imagine existed?
Matt stepped forward, lowering his voice. “Percy, come on, man. You can talk to us. We’ve been wondering for a while now. You disappear sometimes, you get hurt, and you always have some excuse, but… this is different. We’re your friends. What’s really going on?”
Percy swallowed hard. He wanted to trust them, wanted to let them in. But how could he? What if they didn’t believe him? What if they did believe him and ended up in danger? He remembered the warnings from Chiron and the gods about revealing too much to mortals. Some things were better left unsaid.
“I… I’ve just had a rough few years,” Percy finally said, pulling his shirt on. “Some things I’ve been through. It’s nothing you guys need to worry about.”
But the looks on their faces told him they weren’t convinced. Matt, usually so laid-back and joking around, had a serious expression. Jake seemed worried, too, glancing at the scars on Percy’s arms as if trying to piece together a story that made sense.
The next day at school, it got worse. Percy was at his locker, chatting with a few of his school friends when one of the girls—Amy—pointed at his hand.
“Percy, what happened to your wrist?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
Percy glanced down and saw the thin scar that wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet, the reminder of a run-in with a hellhound. It had been hidden for years, but now it stood out starkly. He quickly shoved his hand into his pocket, trying to think of an excuse, but Amy wasn’t the only one who had noticed.
“Whoa, is that another scar?” Ben, a guy from his history class, asked, pointing to Percy’s neck. “Dude, what’s going on with you?”
The questions came flooding in all at once, and Percy felt cornered. He could feel the walls closing in. The Mist wasn’t working like it should, and now everyone was starting to see the physical evidence of a life they couldn’t possibly understand.
“I—uh—it’s just—” Percy stammered, feeling the pressure build. He couldn’t exactly tell them the truth, could he? That he had spent years fighting monsters, saving the world, and barely surviving more life-or-death situations than he could count? They wouldn’t believe him. And if they did, it could get them killed.
Before he could think of a convincing lie, Matt walked up, looking serious. “Hey, Percy. We need to talk.”
Later that afternoon, Percy found himself in the empty bleachers overlooking the school’s football field, sitting beside Matt, Jake, and a couple of the other guys from the swim team. They had cornered him after school, dragging him away from the growing crowd of curious students. Now, the group sat in tense silence, waiting for Percy to say something—anything—that would explain the scars, the strange disappearances, the danger that seemed to follow him.
“Look, we’re not trying to pry,” Matt began, breaking the silence. “But we’re your friends, Percy. And friends look out for each other. You’ve been keeping something from us, and it’s starting to freak people out.”
Jake nodded. “Yeah, man. We’ve seen the scars, and we’ve noticed you coming back from breaks all banged up. If something’s going on, we want to help.”
Percy stared at the grass field below, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of the truth pressing on him, begging to be let out. But how could he dump all of that on them? How could he tell them that the world was full of monsters, that he wasn’t just Percy Jackson—he was a demigod, the son of Poseidon?
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Percy muttered, half hoping they’d drop it.
Matt sighed. “Try us.”
Percy looked up, meeting Matt’s gaze. He saw the seriousness there, the concern. They weren’t going to let this go. They were his friends—they deserved something, some kind of explanation, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.
“I’ve been through some stuff,” Percy finally said, his voice low. “Stuff I can’t really explain. It’s… dangerous. And I don’t want you guys getting mixed up in it.”
Jake frowned. “Dangerous? Like what? Are people after you or something?”
Percy shook his head. “Not people. Not exactly. It’s just… it’s complicated. I can’t tell you everything, but… the scars? They’re from fights. Fights I’ve had to get through to stay alive.”
Matt leaned forward, his expression intense. “So what? You’re, like, in some secret fight club or something?”
Percy laughed bitterly. “Yeah, something like that.”
Matt rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not satisfied with Percy’s vague explanation, but he didn’t push it any further. There was an awkward silence for a moment, broken only by the distant sounds of the football team practising on the field below.
After what felt like forever, Jake spoke up. “Okay, so you’ve been through some rough stuff. We get that. But are you… you know, safe? Like, is this ‘danger’ you keep talking about still out there?”
Percy hesitated. He didn’t want to lie to them, but he also didn’t want to scare them. The reality was that danger was always out there. His life was a constant rollercoaster of unpredictability, where monsters could appear at any moment, and quests were a normal part of his existence. But he couldn’t exactly explain that to them without revealing too much.
“I’m fine,” Percy said, trying to sound reassuring. “I can handle it. It’s not something you guys need to worry about.”
Matt still looked unconvinced, but Jake nodded slowly. “Alright, if you say so. Just… if something ever happens, you know we’re here for you, right?”
Percy smiled, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. They had no idea what kind of danger they were offering to help with, but the gesture meant more to him than they knew. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Really.”
Matt finally let out a long breath, standing up and stretching. “Well, whatever this is, just don’t go getting yourself killed, okay? The team would fall apart without you.”
Percy grinned, grateful that they were willing to let it go, at least for now. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
Over the next few weeks, things started to settle back into a routine. Percy noticed fewer questions from his friends, though he still caught the occasional concerned glance from Matt or Jake. The Mist seemed to stabilize again, hiding the worst of his scars, and he made sure to be more careful around the guys.
But every now and then, something strange would happen—something small that the Mist couldn’t fully conceal. One day, after school, Percy was hanging out with Matt and some of the other guys in the parking lot when they saw something that sent chills down his spine.
A shadow moved in the distance—quick, unnatural. Percy’s instincts kicked in immediately. He stiffened, eyes narrowing as he scanned the area. His heart raced, but he tried to keep calm. The others didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, but Percy knew better.
Just as he was about to make an excuse to leave, Matt caught his tense posture and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Percy forced a smile, trying to play it off. “Nothing. Thought I saw something, but it’s probably just the wind or a stray dog.”
Matt didn’t look entirely convinced, but he let it go. Still, Percy couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching him.
One afternoon, after another long practice, Percy found himself alone by the pool. He had stayed behind to finish up some extra drills when Matt walked in, towel slung over his shoulder, his face serious.
“Hey,” Matt said, sitting down on one of the benches by the pool. “I’ve been thinking.”
Percy tensed, not liking where this was going. “About what?”
Matt glanced at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “About you. About all the stuff you haven’t told us. Look, I get that it’s not something you can talk about easily, but… it’s pretty obvious that whatever’s going on with you isn’t normal.”
Percy felt his chest tighten. “What do you mean?”
Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been noticing things. Weird things. Like how you sometimes react to stuff that no one else sees. Or how you just disappear when things get intense.” He paused, searching Percy’s face for some kind of reaction. “Look, I don’t care what it is, but I want you to know that if you’re in trouble or if something’s coming, we’ve got your back.”
Percy blinked, stunned. He hadn’t realized how much Matt had picked up on. He’d always been so careful around his mortal friends, making sure the Mist hid the truth from them, but Matt was sharp. Sharper than Percy had given him credit for.
“I appreciate that, Matt,” Percy said slowly. “But I’m serious when I say this is something you don’t want to get involved in. It’s… bigger than any of us.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “Bigger how? You’ve got people chasing you or something?”
Percy chuckled darkly. “You could say that.”
There was a long silence between them. Matt finally sighed, standing up and slinging his towel back over his shoulder. “Alright, Percy. I’ll back off for now. But if you ever need us, don’t hesitate to call. Even if it’s something… crazy.”
Percy smiled, grateful but also a little sad. He wanted to tell Matt everything, to trust him with the truth. But some secrets were too dangerous to share.
As Matt walked away, Percy stared at the water, his reflection rippling across the surface. The Mist might be hiding his scars again, but the cracks were showing. He didn’t know how long he could keep his two worlds separate, or how much longer he could protect his friends from the dangers lurking in the shadows.
One thing was for sure, though: he wasn’t alone. And for now, that was enough.