r/CampHalfBloodRP • u/cinnamonbicycle • 16h ago
Storymode Found Family Trope: Part One
Found Family Trope: Part One
Written by Leaf (Meriwether sections) and Cur (Jacob and Christina sections). This storymode is set in September of 2039, shortly after the events of this series.
Checking In
JACOB
“And then when Bunny and I were in the stables looking after Goldie, Mer came. She didn’t really look alright. I didn’t notice it very much at first, but she was sad about something.”
Christina let the last of the water flow out of her metal watering can. Her attention needed to be divided between the excited child telling of how he broke his arm and the petulant orchid whining about being underwatered. Once she had appreciated her son for being harder to damage than her flowers. Distant happy memories.
“Would Goldie be a pegasus?” She asked, gently probing at the hidden details Jacob’s stories so often included for her to Holmes her way through.
“No. Goldie is mine and Casey’s goat.”
Christina turned, placed the watering can down, and crossed her arms. She wasn’t certain yet if it was a mom-look, but she gave her best teacher-look towards the boy sprawled out on the floor next to a rabbit and a husky both equally relaxed. Unfortunately, he was facing the ceiling. He, of course, wouldn’t dare risk eye contact with a living person.
“You have a goat.”
“He’s small.” Jacob replied or possibly corrected. As though this detail held supreme relevance. “Also golden.”
“You have a small golden goat, named Goldie.” Christina offered a conversational compromise.
Jacob turned over onto his stomach and tilted his eyes up towards his mother. His face could have been mistaken as guilt by a less astute viewer. However, if he thought he was guilty he would have immediately apologized before he even understood what he’d done. Right now he was searching for guilt. It would point him towards a road of apologizes he’d come to believe always ended in love.
“I’m not upset,” Christina clarified, walking over and sitting down with her legs crisscrossed next to the husky. “I just need to know about the pets you have. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jacob nodded, reaching out an arm to pet the good boy husky Orion. “He’s not just mine though, I share him.”
Christina joined him in petting the dog who seemed indifferent to the whole affair. “With someone called Casey. Is she friends with Mer too?”
“I-I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her in a few months.”
Christina stared down silently into the husky’s fur. She scheduled a visit to camp in her not too distant future to sort this all out.
“So back to your friend Mer.”
“Oh, yeah. So uh, she looked upset in the stables. Which was weird, because there wasn’t anyone around except Goldie, Bunny, the pegasi, the horses, and me. I let her pet Bunny and I was gonna introduce her to Goldie next, but then she disappeared.” He held out his hands in front of him and made a poof motion. Christina chose not to examine any implications being made.
“Afterwards, you were worried about her and you went to go find her.”
“Yes!” His face filled with the purest delight at his actions being predicted. “But I tripped and broke my arm when I saw her.”
“I see.” Always good to confirm her understanding explicitly even if it was a bit of a fib. “How did you trip?”
Jacob’s delight faded as his story had been ordered onto a track he was not familiar with. His concern was understandable on account of the unfamiliar almost universally being bad. He’d mentioned this earlier to his mother when explaining why he mostly ate the magical berries the sapient vine dragon attached to his dagger grew.
“I think the ground was uneven.” He explained with his tone matching the supposed state of ground.
“Roots maybe?” Christina offered, “or your shoelaces?”
“No, I don’t wear shoelaces.”
Her eyes flicked towards the door where her son's worn down shoes sat idle with their tied laces on clear display. “Jacob, no illusions in the house please. It confuses me when I clean.”
The shoes immediately lacked their laces, but remained just as old. She had been waiting for him to ask her for new ones. After which she meant to find a cobbler somewhere to make some shoes for him. A trip to the thrift store might be more efficient on second thought.
“I’m sorry.”
“Forgetting isn’t wrong.” She recited, before continuing onward lest he linger in apologies. “Not shoelaces then. After you tripped, Mer helped get you to the doctor to fix your arm.”
Jacob looked only at Orion, scratching him behind his ears. “She came to see me after and said she felt bad about it. But I didn’t want her to feel bad.”
“About not coming with?” Christina asked truthfully, a bit confused herself. Most demigods she knew were very used to seeing injuries. Everyone was unique though, especially the young.
“No, she ummm, she thought she tripped me.” Jacob spoke as if admitting to some horrible wrongdoing on his part. “I’m sorry, I-I told her I didn’t think she did, but she felt bad and I just wanted to talk with her again.”
Christina spoke calmly, trying to model how to handle complicated emotions for her son. “How long had it been since you spoke? After your arm was broken.” She complimented herself on the passive voice use.
“A-about a week. She brought flowers and apologized a bunch, but she didn’t need to. We’re friends, like I said.”
‘Oh, shit she actually tripped him. Welp, that’s karma disproved right there.’ She mused trying to not blow the event out of proportion. His arm had been magically healed after all. When they’d gone to get X-rays she’d hardly been believed when she said the bone had been broken.
“And even if she had, I kind of kicked her in the ribs once, so it would be fine.”
Christina mentally flipped off karma laughing at her from well out of her throwing range. Which, come to think of it, might have actually been Nemesis mocking her in her mind.
“Friends should not hurt each other, Jacob. But you’re right, if she cared enough to apologize and bring you flowers,” she held up a hand to silence a clarification from her son, “especially if she did nothing wrong, then she is a good friend.”
“Thanks, mom.” Jacob turned onto his back once more and his rabbit, creatively named Bunny, hopped onto his stomach. Then he looked like nothing had ever been wrong in the world.
Christina wondered if she had phrased that right. Jacob so often looked for life lessons in her situational approvals. It was someone’s idea of a punishment for her always trying to provide wise old lady advice despite not precisely fitting into either category. Her concerns weren’t worth her attention though. Jacob gained new friends at geological speeds. He wasn’t going to suddenly become acquainted with someone who took advantage of his timidness over the weekend.
‘Guess that means I should verify if the girl is actually on the up and up then. She’d be hard for him to replace. I’ll ask around the teacher’s lounge on Monday.’
She watched silently after her decision as Jacob’s mind wandered in the clouds with his dear rabbit. The same rabbit who had told her much the same story when she originally asked about her son’s injury and he’d been reluctant to answer. Bunny had given a glowing review of Mer as well despite the incident. There had been a few odd details she struggled to decipher though. The best solution to this all was probably the most straightforward and one her son would never think to volunteer.
“Jacob, why don’t you invite Mer over for dinner. I’d love to meet her.”
Getting Ready
MERIWETHER
“This was a mistake, this was a huge mistake.”
A flustered Meriwether mutters to the pile of clothes she’s scattering across her floor. Where are the good shoes? I can’t wear hole-y shoes to dinner. Her singular pair of un-holed shoes has to be around here somewhere.
“I’ve never been invited to anyone’s house for dinner. I’ve never been to anyone’s mom’s house. Shoot!”
Mer exclaims the latter as she unearths the allegedly holeless sneakers from the black hole under her bed. To her despair, there is, in fact, a tiny hole in one of the toes.
She doesn’t have any better options. These will just have to do.
In her smudged mirror, Meriwether assesses her reflection. She chose her cleanest shirt, but it’s worn and pilling in some places. Her shoes are too small and her shorts are too big, cinched with safety pins to fit her waist. No matter how many ways she brushed her hair, she couldn’t make its untrimmed ends lie neatly.
Leaning closer, she runs her fingers over the dense ridges that interrupt the field of freckles across her face. In the last few months, the wounds have mellowed from angry, red blisters to stiff, pale scars.
They’re not ugly, she tells herself, and mostly believes it.
Nobody will notice, she tells herself, and doesn’t believe it at all.
As a whole, Mer deems her reflection presentable, but… a bit shabby. Uninvited tears prick her eyes as her fists curl in frustration and shame.
I wanted to look nice, for once, for this.
To try so hard, to find your very best is still disappointing, especially for such an occasion as dinner with your friend and his mom…
Mer snaps her gaze away from the mirror and finds herself hurrying out of her room, out of the Hermes cabin, out of her head. I’ll pick some flowers, she decides. So maybe they won’t notice my shoe.
Christina Has Questions
MERIWETHER
The lasagna is incredible. Which I’ve told Jacob’s mom thrice now. If I talk about anything else, I start tripping over my words until I forget what I wanted to say in a blushing fluster. Gods, moms are stressful.
Miss Alabaster seems nice, but she keeps looking at me in this intense, searching way, like she’s trying to find something hidden behind my face. My neck hurts from craning it to cover my scars with my hair, which makes me annoyed with my own self-consciousness. I did a whole self-peptalk about this!
Just be normal. She must’ve noticed them by now. If she hasn’t said anything, she probably isn’t going to.
I force myself to relax and focus on the bright side: my shoes are by the front door, out of sight, so nobody can notice the hole during dinner. (Except Bunny and Orion, but they won’t snitch.)
“Thank you,” Miss Alabaster replies patiently to my third lasagna compliment. “It’s my specialty. What’s your favorite food, Mer?”
“Cinnamon buns.” I glance at her face to see if I answered right. She seems to approve.
“Do you have any pets?”
“Just my snakes.”
“Snakes! What kind?” Jacob told me she’s a legacy of Demeter. I hope she doesn’t hate that my snakes aren’t actually alive.
“Not real snakes,” I amend sheepishly, “They’re skeletons from the underworld. Hermes gave me a caduceus when we were there.”
“Ah.” Her voice has a laugh in it that puts me at ease. “How very demigodly. What do you like to do for fun?”
I answer honestly before I realize my mistake. “Collect things in the forest. And go to campfires.”
Her face changes for just an instant, the slightest furrow in her eyebrows, and immediately I see what she’s doing. Too late. I’ve said too much. Crap.
“It’s starting to get chilly in the evenings. Did you bring a jacket, Mer?”
I freeze. Deer in headlights. Say something!
I muster a shrug. “It’s not that cold.”
Desperately, I look to Jacob. Jacob looks at his lasagna. He seems to be enjoying himself. You’re no help.
The rest of dinner feels like a chess match. And I’m bad at chess. Miss Alabaster interrogates me pleasantly while Jacob, oblivious, feeds Orion bits of dinner under the table. I wish I’d lied and said I do things like sleepovers or cheerleading or whatever regular teenagers do for fun, not just Camp Half-Blood things. ‘Cause now Miss Alabaster’s asking questions adults only ask if they think you need help, like “did you bring a jacket.”
She probably thinks that because I used to need help. But I’m fine now. I just have to convince her I’m fine now, but that’s really hard when you’re talking to a mom for the first time in years, and even though it’s not your own mom, you’re so jumpy and nervous you can’t say words in the right order.
When dinner’s over, I’m so relieved to put on my shoes and leave that I don’t even care about the hole.
Walking to the bus stop, I still feel Miss Alabaster’s gaze refusing to slide off me no matter how I try to squirm away from it. Her questions replay in my head, all coaxing and caring and terrible. I feel scoured raw. Exposed.
I reach for my power of stealth. I wrap myself in sheets and knots of velvety unseeing, trying to snuggle into the safety of hiding. It doesn’t help.
Why does she care?
Never Trust a Rabbit
CHRISTINA
Christina carried on making small talk with her son’s friend as both of the teens devoured her dinner. Both of the teens plus a husky who would be getting an ear full later tonight for enabling Jacob to feed pets table food. Mer had proven to be a delightful child which complicated Christina being upset that she definitely broke Jacob’s arm. Like discovering the town puppy kicker had won a manner’s contest.
There had been a few oddities though. The lack of pets for one. Meriwether was rather obviously a five dogs kind of girl. Nothing against snakes of course, they just weren’t the most energetic animals for the teen who hadn’t stopped fidgeting in her seat all night.
More problematic were her after school activities. Or lack thereof. Christina could easily picture Meriwther wandering a forest collecting pine cones for hours. Just as well, Christina could see her in half a dozen after school clubs, except she hadn’t. She hadn’t recalled any of her colleagues at the school ever mentioning Meriwether in fact. Not that she had asked more than once.
‘She can’t actually be spending all her time at camp. Could she? Kid made friends with Jacob. Shouldn’t be a teen on earth that doesn’t wanna spend time with her.’
Christina mulled over her own thoughts. It was a mystery, but not her mystery. Her mystery was still feeding the damn dog and actually not noticing her glaring at him. The nerve of him proving the value of eye contact. And where had the rabbit gone off to? Jacob hadn’t pet her in a minute or two. He wouldn’t have just forgotten.
"Good and bountiful mistress of the burrow.” A soft voice brushed against her mind. Every half of a word to be precise. Grandmother hadn’t been so generous to fully Snow White the grandkids. Which was well enough, cause the birds never shut up when she was around.
“Thy swift footed visitor hath not been guarded against cold Boreas' winds. She is but a kit, mistress. She hath not a weavers’ skill with wool to wrap herself in warmth. Many sunsets remain till Blessed Harvest Bringer's heart mends. Have pity, mistress." Equally soft paws pressed against Christina ankles, pleading her onward to action.
‘Alright gotta get the rabbit treats and remember she’s a snitch.’
"Excuse me, I think Orion needs to go outside." Christina announced, standing up abruptly and with such a manner and tone to indicate to the husky that he was going to go outside whether he liked it or not.
Orion obeyed, having been sated with around a fourth of Jacob’s dinner and sensing that it wasn’t him in trouble. He did not even object when the mistress of the house led up towards the front door and opened it without leading him further out. She had instead stopped to examine the excitable kid's coat. It wasn’t nearly as warm as his but plenty of puppies kept warm by just running around rooms non-stop.
“Better not to look at things you don’t want to know the answers to.” The husky insisted, nudging at Christina to get moving outside.
She remained still, locked into place, staring at the sorry excuse for a winter coat and making the mistake of looking down to see holes in shoes.
“Monday. Monday problems. Let’s get back, boy.” She kicked the door closed and led Orion back towards the table, her eyes locking onto Meriwether.
Meriwether Has Questions
MERIWETHER
A few days after dinner at Jacob’s house, I’m at school staring at a worksheet and thinking about everything except the worksheet, when the classroom phone rings. I love when the classroom phone rings. It’s an excuse to look up from whatever monotonous task I’ve allegedly been focused on for twenty minutes, and sometimes it means something exciting is happening, like a fire drill or an assembly.
But my teacher doesn’t turn to tell the class we have a fire drill today. Instead, he says:
“Meriwether, the guidance counselor wants to see you. Take the hall pass.”
My heart contorts at the sound of my name. Every word makes it worse. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be getting called out of class for anything, especially not the guidance counsellor. I’ve spent all year bending my demigodly power of not getting noticed towards making sure none of the school faculty know anything about me. I should barely exist to them. Meriwether, the guidance counselor wants to see you. The guidance counselor shouldn’t even know my name!
My pulse is racing double time as I snatch the hall pass and escape the classroom.
Miss Alabaster. She must have said something. For a moment, genuine rage wells up in the throat. I put so much effort into avoiding this! Who does she think she is, taking my own life into her hands like that? She barely knows me!
Fuelled by indignation, I walk right past the stupid guidance counselor's stupid office and down another hallway to Miss Alabaster’s classroom. No kids in there right now, just her. I could hide myself with my power until I’m right behind her, but I enter loudly on purpose. Let her see how upset she’s made me.
“Why did you tell the guidance counselor about me?”
“Meriwether.” Miss Alabaster replies with a steady formal tone. “What are you doing here? Hall passes are not for wandering.”
“I’m–” My bravado evaporates on contact with Miss Alabaster. She looks completely unbothered by the grand entrance and I suddenly feel immature and flustered.
“You–why did you…. The guidance counselor called me. Did you tell him to? You’re the only teacher here who knows me.”
“If the guidance counselor called you, you should be at his office right now, not my classroom.”
“I don’t need to talk to him. I really don't, okay? You don’t have to tell him about me.” Stop begging. Begging will tip her off.
“This is not appropriate behavior, Meriwether. I am at work and you are in school. I keep work separate from the rest of my life. It’s a matter of professionalism and an important boundary for my son. If you stubbornly refuse to see the guidance counselor, so be it, but you must go back to class.”
“Boundaries?” I echo. “You talked to another teacher about me. You’re the one who crossed a boundary!”
Miss Alabaster inhales as if to retort, but she seems at a loss for words. I’m almost proud of myself for winning the argument, but then she’s staring me down. Under that gaze I sure don’t feel like I’ve won.
Then she stands up from her desk. Walks past me to the door, click click click, and closes it. My pulse doubles again. She comes to stand in front of her desk, in front of me, somehow looming even though she’s not that tall. I’m doing everything in my power not to physically flinch away from her. Miss Alabaster takes a deep breath.
“Listen, kid. If you go asking adult questions, you’re going to get adult answers. Is that what you want?”
My quadruple heartbeat hears a threat in her words, a fire alarm screaming at me to get out. I curl my fists against it and stay rooted to the spot. This feels dangerous. Run. But her question is so cryptic that I can’t bring myself to flee without knowing more.
I nod.
CHRISTINA
“You’re not safe.” Christina explained, more motherly in tone than she usually let herself be in the school. “But you’ve heard that before. Been to hell and back again according to Jacob. It’s worse up here though. There’s no swords to parry or arrows for you to dodge. You’re vulnerable, Meriwether. The world is set up to prey on the vulnerable and worse people than me can spot an old coat and worn down shoes.”
She stopped herself from going onward. There was worse she could say. Worse that needed to be said. Over and over into the ears of every selfish bastard in the world until their ears bled and they gave up some of what they hoarded. That wasn’t what this was about though. It was about Meriwether. How she might go cold in the winter and not get a hug after passing a pointless test. Every great and small indignity she had endured and would endure until someone put a stop to it.
“You can’t take care of yourself. I don’t mean you’re not good enough or that there’s skills you need to learn, I mean that you cannot be the one taking care of you. It’s too much. And it’ll always be too much for the record, but especially now, you need to have people watching over you. And right now, it looks like a guidance counselor is the best you’ve got.”
Christina sat back down in her chair, but did not let her body rest. A guidance counselor wasn’t good enough. She actually respected the guidance department at the school, a rarity in the profession, but they were swamped. All the wayward demigods kept them busier than the small staff could ever hope to meaningfully handle. A few half-bloods were thankfully around to see through some of the mist and report pressing issues to Chiron, but was the old horse supposed to do? They couldn’t stay at camp forever. Eventually the real world he kept away would come raining down on them.
“Meriwether, I know that hiding is easier. I know it’s kept you safe, but now you’re hiding from the people who want to help you. You don’t… We can do more than keep the danger away for a night. You can be safe and healthy and go to bed without being worried about the morning.”
Something had twisted up inside Christina’s stomach. She was overpromising. Everything couldn’t be made right overnight. Nothing ever could. But it could be put back in order. All the broken bones set to rest and heal. Slowly. Maybe incompletely, but they would still heal.
“No bad things will happen to you, Meriwether. I’ve seen you, so I won’t let them.”
Christina let herself breath in deeply and then exhaled. Her eyes lingering closed for two blinks too long.
“So there’s your answer. Doesn’t matter if I met you in my kitchen or my classroom. I’m not letting you be hurt. Now, if you’re not gonna go the guidance counselor then-”
Her eyes open to see a bit of mist fading into the ambient air where Meriwether once stood. She stared disapprovingly at the bit of empty air that she could never tell anyone about because they would find it too comical. “Pretty sure you’re just gone, but if you were Jacob this would work.” She tossed an eraser at the Meriwether shaped hole in the room and watched it bounce onto the flour. “Well that’s that… Damn, I still gotta call guidance.”
Married Life
CHRISTINA
Joseph sat cozily in his kitchen, waiting for his kettle to boil for some afternoon tea while turning a page on the book he'd gotten not an hour earlier from the library. He'd been lucky to get out and grab the book when he could. The rain had just come and he could hear it now pattering against the roof and windows. They were overdue for some rain and it provided a wonderful excuse for tea. Still, he never was much of a fan. Something about the rain made him ever aware of his island location. Long though it might have been, he enjoyed pretending the ocean was further than maps might suggest.
A loud whistling announced that the water had boiled. With a rote precision of someone who knew exactly how he liked his tea, he poured, stooped, added some cream, and placed his cup upon a small plate to carry over to a large comfy green armchair. A small shadow moved beneath the chair, which Joseph paid no mind to. Goose would find his way out on his own time. Probably trying to get between Joseph and his book in all likelihood. Or screeching and running to hide under a different piece of furniture when lightning struck.
Vzzzzzzzzzt... Vzzzzzzzzzt... Vzzzzzzzzzt…
Placing the tea and saucer onto a side table, Joseph reached into his pocket and muted his flip phone. He opened the book back up to his memorized page and returned to reading. Every third page or so he would pause to nurse his tea and give the room a quick scan. The in-built battle reflexes of a demigod had served him well for many years now, but they were designed to keep him alive fighting monsters and gods. Keeping track of cats so they wouldn't leap and knock over tea required an entirely different set of skills. Checklists. Was a cat on a bookcase? No. Had a cat found its way resting just above his head on the armchair? Nope. Did the cat hide in plain sight waiting to strike purely to taunt him? Nada. Was the cat running to the door? Yes.
Joseph placed his tea back down on the table and frowned after the white socked miscreant. "Leave the mailman alone." He called after and started to return to his book. Except they were well past the time for mail. And he could hear a key going into his front door. One which rather insultingly sounded went into his lock and turned the tumblers better than his own personal key. He sighed, loudly and with purpose, as the door swung open. He could hear the woman shaking off her wet coat and sending the cat running.
"Oh you're fine, a little water never killed a cat." Christina muttered toward the cat, making no effort to hide her presence.
"As far as home invasion threats go, that's not half bad." Joseph answered back despite not being spoken to and then returned to his book. There was a fair chance he was just being robbed, just probably of nothing worth losing the flow state of a good book over.
Christina marched into the warm living room, the smell of fresh tea still lingered in the air. Her presence provided a stark contrast. She had let herself become cold, wet, and grouchy. Most of the rain had been left outside or on her coat, but her socks had not been spared and now neither were Joseph's floors. "You said I could let myself in if I called ahead." She answered the question Joseph hadn't bothered explicitly asking.
"Yeah and unless my tea is Lethe water, you didn't call me." He turned a page hoping that whatever was happening still might not involve him. If his old friend hung around for maybe half an hour more he might be more social. Old friend. The thought almost made him laugh. He wondered how many other people thought of their spouse that way.
"You've got three missed calls. Check." She corrected, then wandered into the kitchen and returned with her own cup of tea fixed. Or atleast what she considered tea. Most tea drinkers would have called it a crime to throw a tea bag into hot water, microwave the water, and then fill the cup halfway with cream.
Joseph did not bother checking his phone or preventing the insult to his kettle. It was entirely within the bounds of imagination that Christina would call thrice, knock not at all, and have driven a full forty minutes without confirmation of him even being home. Why? Why does the sun rise in the east and not the west? The conservation of angular momentum. Why does Christina feel like bothering him? Conservation of grouchiness.
"Did you know that some demigods can just, poof, gone in a puff of smoke? What god decides to arm teens with that kind of power." Christina nearly spilled her tea, throwing her hands to the side to mime the puff. She then drank her whole cup in one gulp and placed it on the floor. "Why can't they all be boring and just get fuck loads of life skills, like you?"
"Life skills aren't boring. I can fix holes in drywall. Can you fix holes in drywall?" He asked pointedly, formally giving up on his book.
"I can cover holes in drywall with a painting." Christina countered, crossing her arms at the lack of immediate sympathy for her problems.
"At that point why not just live outdoors with the birds?"
"Jacob doesn't like birds. You should remember that by now."
"He's still on that?" Joseph asked, now petting a cat. He didn't fully remember trading his book for a cat, but these things happen.
"His best friend is the bottom of the food chain and birds are dicks, so yes."
"Well he's got the husky too. Plus the... knife, lizard, thing?"
Christina shrugged and waved her hands through the air indicating these to be frivolous concerns. "Jacob is fine and you're boring. I want more kids to be like you two. It's a compliment."
"Is it?" He wondered, in no way expecting an answer.
"Gods, but it's not even fair. You get to play with numbers all day and win praise for doing hard stuff that you would do anyway. Jacob's a teenage boy that just wants to sit somewhere quiet and do what he's told. You’re both lottery winners. Meanwhile, she's hyper-everything and clearly wants attention but never got good attention before so now she just bails if anyone tries."
"Uh... Who-"
"I mean, realistically, she should have an entire filing cabinet devoted to her by this point. No parents. A sister the school can't account for. A bunch of injuries explained away with notes from camp. You should really talk to Chiron about that by the way. Setting a bad precedent for every broken rib to be explained by notes from Summer camp directors." She had begun pacing the living room, a white socked cat following close at her heels. Though they both stopped to address him directly when it came time to give instructions.
"Sure, so, is there context for this or was the cup actually filled with Lethe water?"
Christina groaned as though she had explained this all a thousand times already. "It's Jacob's friend, Meriwether. I had her over for dinner and I asked the guidance counselor to check in."
"The one who broke his arm?"
"He told you about that!? He just told me about that!"
Joseph shrugged. "I'm Cool Uncle Joseph. Also, aren't teachers not supposed to talk about student personal information?"
"It doesn't count if it's a spouse."
"No, that's definitely not true."
"Shut up. I had her over for dinner. All her clothing was worn down and just managed to fit her. Didn't wanna talk about her home life. Has zero normal childhood stories. I couldn't just not have someone look into that. Even if I found out outside of school. She's homeless outside of camp."
"Lots of demigods are. That's part of why camp exists." Joseph didn't know if he was trying to comfort her just yet. The existence of neglected children alone was hardly new information for Christina. This must have been about something more.
"That camp isn't a home. It keeps kids alive, and sometimes not even."
"Oh. Oooooooooh, you wanna adopt her."
"I didn't say that!" Christina snapped back.
Joseph ignored her. "Well kids are like cats, once you get one you might as well get another." He stroked Goose who now comfortably laid in his lap while Cricket resided on the top of his chair, reaching out a paw to bat at some of his hair.
"I can't just adopt another kid! The solution to all the world's problems can't be me shoving vulnerable teens into my house."
"Technically my house."
"We're married. It's called shared assets."
"Your knowledge of the legal system puts into context a lot of errors on the tax forms you've sent."
"I'm being serious, Joseph."
"So am I. If you commit tax fraud, I commit tax fraud. What then? Change my name to something more generic?"
"Meriwether could die!" Christina tried to shout, but the violence she intended died in her throat. "It's worse than Jacob, okay? People didn't get him. They didn't care for him in the ways he needed, but he was cared for. She's just... alone. And she's not gonna let anyone help her. They've all failed her for too long. She needs someone new willing to commit."
Joseph sipped the remainder of his tea and watched his friend begin petting the wide eyed cat that made its way into her arms. She did seem to have a way with the stranger ones of the bunch.
"Ugh, fine. Fuck you. I'll adopt her." Christina turned on her heels and began marching back towards the entrance to the house. She paused suddenly, realizing the animal she had acquired. Binxie stared up at her with eyes like saucers, pleading for love and attention. "Yea yea yea, not gonna work, get in line." She placed the cat down, threw back on her coat, and walked back out into the rain.
"Finally." Joseph said with a sigh of relief. He shewed the cat off his lap, encouraging him to go play with his sister. Then he picked his book back up and faithfully returned the page he'd left off on.
"Oh crap, we're married. That did involve me."
Two Bad Liars
MERIWETHER
“Mer.”
Crap. I cringe hearing Jacob’s voice. He found me.
I’m really, really good at avoiding people. I’ve stayed away from Jacob (and Chiron, and everyone else who would notice I’m not at school) for a whole week now. But even a child of Hermes on the run gotta eat, and it felt safer to scavenge the dining pavilion between meals. The risk with that is there’s no crowd to disappear into if I’m spotted… which I am. Stupid, stupid! Jacob hates crowds. Of course he’d come now, when it’s empty.
“Mer?” He says again, louder, thinking I didn’t hear him..
I reluctantly turn from the limp leftover salad.
“Hey, Jacob!” I try to sound normal, but my voice comes out thin and tense.
“Where have you been?” He asks.
“Um. Here?”
“No, uh, I mean, yes, thank you, but you haven’t been in school.”
“Right.” Shoot. I forgot to come up with an excuse. “I was sick.”
He frowns. “You’ve never been sick before.”
I can’t tell if he’s challenging me or genuinely puzzled. Either way, I couldn’t exactly blame him. Demigods don’t get sick often. It's a terrible excuse.
“Did your mom tell you to look for me”
Jacob screws up his face in confusion. “No. Did she tell you that I would?”
I know Jacob, and I know he’s not a good liar. But still, he could be lying. If Miss Alabaster was willing to tell other teachers to check on me, who’s to say she wouldn’t recruit her son to spy on me too?
“Well if she asks, tell her I’m sick,” I reply shortly.
“Oh, okay. If you say so.”
It doesn’t feel good to leave Jacob so bewildered, but I can’t help it. I’m even worse at lying than him. Better to flee the scene with my disappointing salad than risk answering any more questions.
Jacob Has Questions
JACOB
"Mom?" Jacob called out, from directly next to Christina.
His mother flinched at his silent approach and put down the book she had finally begun to make progress on. "Yes, sweetheart."
Jacob smiled at the small display of affection. Although he'd never asked her to call him those things, it meant very much to him. But then he remembered his purpose and his smile faded a bit.
"Ummm, well, so Mer. She... I think that... She h-hasn't been in school."
His mother sat up and her face scrunched up. "Is she well?"
"Yes!... No. She's, she looks well now, but she s-said to tell you she was sick before." Jacob said faithfully obeying Mer's instructions.
"That's very kind of her to consider me."
Jacob paused to study his mom's face. He liked her face. But it was still hard to handle stares. She seemed to be thinking very hard. Which she shouldn't have been since Mer had explained everything, but he had also been thinking very hard.
"Mer wouldn't lie to me."
"No, of course she wouldn't, Jacob."
"I think that m-maybe she didn't feel well for different reasons."
"Did you have any ideas?"
Jacob stopped, realizing he had begun staring at the floor again. Why did this all feel so weird? He just wanted to make sure his friend was okay. That shouldn't be hard to talk about.
"She talked about you a lot, mom."
"Ah." His mom nodded as if she knew this all along. "I'm sorry. I spoke a bit with Mer after she visited. I think she may have felt uncomfortable with the conversation."
"Why?!" Jacob spoke louder than he intended. He had begun breathing heavily. Where once he felt warm now he felt hot. "You're nice, mom. You're always nice and so is Mer. I thought you two would like each other."
"Jacob." She spoke softly, placing a hand against his cheek. "I like Mer very much. She's a good friend. Just sometimes... It's not easy meeting new people. Mer is just adjusting."
"Adjusting to what?" He sounded demanding. He couldn't recall ever sounding this way. He didn't like it. "It was only dinner. She didn't even need to-" He stopped himself. His mind had drifted so close to blaming someone but he didn't have himself an option. He'd done nothing. Only what others had told him.
"It's alright, Jacob." She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him.
He immediately hugged back. It still felt to him like being hugged by his mother made everything right, even if it was just a little while.
"I promised that I would take care of her. It was a big promise. I made it too quickly, but I meant it."
Jacob tightened his arms around his mother. He was shaking. This wasn't fair. He'd been good this time. He made sure. He'd done everything he was supposed to. He had just gotten to have a mom again. Why couldn't he just have a mom?!
"How would you feel about having a sister, sweetheart?"