CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FINLEY           BRIGGS

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Finn had never been in a boat before. Or anywhere overseas.

For the first six years of her life, she lived in the mountainous state of Colorado. She was really young back then, didn't really remember as much as she wanted to, but she did know it was the best her life would ever be. It was just Finn and her single mother, Isla Briggs, and it was the last time Finn felt truly calm.

Inherently, Finn's blood ran wild. She had an instinctive urge for madness. Yet somehow, Isla Briggs had the ability to bring out the tranquility in Finn. She was just a mortal, yet so powerful in Finn's eyes.

Finn's birth was a drunken accident, as ironic as it sounded. Bacchus had found Isla at one of her friends' stupid engagement parties. Isla had a few too many to drink, and Bacchus always had a few too many to drink, so one thing led to another, and suddenly Finley Briggs was born.

There was a quote somewhere out there saying, Some children are simply born with tragedy in their blood. Well, Finn was simply born with alcohol in hers (and maybe a little bit of tragedy). 

She wished she had a more personal story than that. She also knew that it made perfect sense: Finley Briggs was a mistake. Finley Briggs wan't supposed to be here. Finley Briggs was just a product of drunkenness and inconsideration.

Finley Briggs was born, and so her mother consequentially died.

The wolves found Finn after that, as what happened to all Roman demigods. When they traveled to the Wolf House, it most certainly wasn't done by sailing. When Finn found her way to Camp Jupiter, that wasn't done by sailing either. So Finn was completely new to this whole "cruising along in a dingy boat while cramped next to the new guy and miserable because you're prohibited from drinking more wine" thing.

Luckily her seasickness wasn't as bad as Hazel's—who, quite frankly (hah, Frankly), looked the same as she did when she saw Finn's nose ring for the first time. Like she was going to pass out.

The unfortunate part, though, was that Finn did feel nauseous. This always happened when she withdrew from the alcohol for a little bit, but now it was made worse by the rockiness of the boat they sailed in. She just knew it wouldn't be long before her head started pounding. Then the sickness would take over.

Finn hoped she got a moment to herself soon. That way, she could down a good bit of wine without anyone noticing.

Wow. She really needed to get a grip. She wasn't even fully sober yet—they'd only just passed the piers along the San Francisco Embarcadero—and she was already daydreaming about breaking her sobriety.

They sped by a pack of sea lions lounging on the docks, and she swore she saw an old homeless guy sitting among them. From across the water, the old man pointed a bony finger at Percy and mouthed something like Don't even think about it.

"Did you see that?" Hazel asked. Her seasickness was now something close to sea plague.

Percy's face was red in the sunset. "Yeah. I've been here before. I... I don't know. I think I was with my girlfriend. She was... laughing at me. I'd give anything for that laugh."

"Sylvie, right?" Frank asked. Finn wasn't aware Percy had a girlfriend, but apparently Frank was.

"Yeah," Percy unintentionally began smiling. His hands twitched as if they were yearning to hold his necklace. "We were looking for someone, I'm pretty sure."

"You mean, on your way to Camp Jupiter?"

Percy frowned. "No. Before that."

He honed in on the city like he was still trying to hear Sylvie's laugh until they passed under the Golden Gate Bridge and turned north.

Finn tried to ignore the urge to turn the entire ocean into wine by eyeing Percy scrutinizingly. If she wasn't looking at the possible liquids she could transform, it wasn't as bad. Her stomach felt a little less nauseous.

"So you really have a girlfriend?" Finn asked him.

Percy glanced at her. He didn't have to move much, because they were already sat right next to each other. There were only two benches on the Pax, and Frank and Hazel (the oblivious lovebirds they were) wanted to sit together on one. Naturally that left Finn and Percy on the other. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but nothing right now really was.

"Yeah," Percy said, voice proud as if there wasn't a better prize he could wish for. "I kissed her in front of the gods once. I think."

Finn raised an eyebrow. She couldn't deny being shocked. Looking at Percy's face, she saw that he wasn't joking. The only thing in his eyes was pure, adoring love.

"What?"

"I don't know why," he elaborated. "I don't remember what we were doing, or why we were on Olympus. Just that I needed to kiss her. I needed a wish granted, and it was that I could kiss her."

Even Finn, a natural cynic, was almost heart-warmed by the amount of devotion in his voice.

"Jeez, skipper, this Sylvie girl must really be special," Finn forced a laugh.

The truth was, though, she didn't really know how to handle this vulnerability or these emotions. She was used to laughing a person off. She could tease them in such an annoying way that no one wanted to trust the drunken fool who had no idea what she was talking about.

Finn couldn't do that to Percy. She didn't know why. Maybe it was because he was already so pitiful—an amnesiac far from his personified home. Maybe it was because he was the only one in three years who didn't talk down on her.

(Maybe it was because if she squinted enough, when Percy smiled, she could imagine there was a lip scar that stretched at the motion.)

"She is," and it was the only thing Percy was certain about.

The boat shuddered, jolting Finn in a way that had her stomach churning. They entered the Pacific currents and skirted the rocky coastline of Marin County.

Finn and Percy fell quiet. Hazel and Frank were flirting. Finn tried ignoring them, and the shakiness of her hands, begging to turn the water of the ocean into wine. She knew she could do it—it might be more difficult considering the vast amount beneath her, but she was desperate enough to manage.

Finn could drink it all, could blackout so hard that she never remembered anything from her sixteen years of living. Not her past at home, not her past at Camp Jupiter, and not her past with the primordial goddess of the Earth.

She could be like Jason. She could leave it all behind without looking back.

"That looks familiar," came Percy's voice, forcing Finn out the depth of her thoughts.

They were passing Stinson Beach, and Percy was pointing inland, where a single mountain rose above the green hills. Finn's body reacted to its own accord, sending a chill down her spine so violent that she shuddered entirely.

"Mount Tam," Frank said. "Kids at camp are always talking about it. Big battle happened on the summit, at the old Titan base."

Percy frowned. "Were any of you there?"

"We weren't," Hazel confessed, "but Finley was."

A beat. Finn looked up. 

She groaned. They were all looking at her expectantly. It just emphasized the fact she was the odd one out in a group of odd ones out. That thought didn't sting at all. 

"Yeah," she grunted. "I guess."

"What happened?" Percy asked.

Finn set her fist in her lap, keeping her eyes on it instead of the three questmates around her. "It was back in August. The legion destroyed the enemy's palace and about a million monsters. And..."

Her brain was starting to pound against her skill. Finn pressed the heel of her hand into her temple.

"Grace," Finn mumbled, because she couldn't afford to say his first name aloud right now. "He had to battle Krios—hand-to-hand combat with a Titan."

"I can imagine what that's like," Percy muttered.

Finn wasn't sure what he meant, but she wasn't surprised by the statement. It sounded a lot like something Jason would say. He and Percy had the same aura of quiet power, plus a kind of sadness, like they'd seen their destiny and knew it was only a matter of time before they met a monster they couldn't beat.

Except, Jason was a massive dick, and Percy wasn't. There was still that difference.

Either way, Finn understood the feeling. She watched the sun set in the ocean, and she knew she had less than a week to live. If the will of Gaea was combatting Finn in Alaska, Finn didn't stand a chance.

Her journey would be over by the Feast of Fortuna.

It is not me who fears you, crazy hero. But they all will. They will all fear you. And I will destroy you.

And then Hazel was knocked out.

The boat shook as Hazel's body slumped over, and that rocking only got worse when Finn jumped back in fear. For a moment, she thought she'd done it. Somehow, some way, Finn was responsible for this. Just like she was responsible for everything else.

She wasn't. Not this time, at least.

Hazel had just blacked out randomly, and none of them knew why. They tried waking her every way they knew how, but Hazel just wouldn't budge. All they could manage was to get Hazel's head in Frank's lap. She lay there, passed out, trying to decide what to do.

"We can try slapping her," Finn suggested. "See if that will wake her up."

Percy and Frank didn't even have to respond. Their stares were enough.

"Alright, it was just a suggestion."

Not the right one apparently. They continued sailing, hoping Hazel would miraculously wake up on her own. 

(Of course, she didn't. Now they were about a hundred miles out and she was still unconscious.)

"We should get off the waters," Percy said. "She mentioned being seasick. It might help to be on land."

That sounded like a much better idea, so the notion was passed.

They didn't find land again for a while, though. It wasn't until they made it to Mendocino that Percy decided to pull the Pax inland.

A hundred and fifty miles of Hazel being unconscious, which... wasn't the best of situations. Frank was so worried that, the second Percy parked the boat, he picked Hazel up and ran her from as far away from the water as he could.

He set Hazel down on a cliff overlooking the beach. The sky blazed with stars. The ocean glinted in the moonlight about a hundred feet away. The surf washed gently against the stern of their beached boat. To Finn's right, hugging the edge of the cliff, was a building like a small church with a search light in the steeple. A lighthouse, she guessed. Behind them, fields of tall grass rustled in the wind.

Frank only cared about Hazel, though.

"Wake up, Hazel!" he shook her arms, sounding panicked. "Wake up!"

Finn and Percy shared wary glances. Hazel didn't move.

Frank only shook her harder, more desperately. "Hazel! Come on, please! Wake up!"

Miraculously, Hazel opened her eyes. Finn, Percy, and Frank gasped in shock as Hazel's hands grappled around underneath. She came to feel the solid ground below. She came to register her bundled sword and pack beside her.

Hazel sat up groggily as she woke up properly. No one really knew what to do or say. They just watched her hesitantly.

"Where are we?" she finally asked.

Frank exhaled. "Thank the gods you're awake! We're in Mendocino, about a hundred and fifty miles north of the Golden Gate."

"A hundred and fifty miles?" Hazel groaned. "I've been out that long?"

"Long enough for me to get sober," said Finn. She wasn't happy about that.

Percy kneeled beside Hazel, the sea wind sweeping his hair. He put his hand on her forehead as if checking for a fever. "We couldn't wake you. Finally we decided to bring you ashore. We thought maybe you got seasickness—"

"It wasn't seasickness." Hazel took a deep breath. "I—I haven't been honest with you. What happened was a blackout. I have them once in a while."

"Fuck yeah, Levesque!" grinned Finn. "I didn't know you were cool like that."

Hazel sighed exasperatedly. "Not that kind of blackout. A... worse kind."

"Oh. Well, then who cares?"

"Me," Frank shot her a glare. Finn had never been intimidated by him until just then. He took Hazel's hand, ignoring her startled and pleased flinch. "What do you mean, a worse kind? Are they medical? Why haven't I noticed before?"

"I try to hide it," Hazel admitted. "I've been lucky so far, but it's getting worse. It's not medical... not really. Nico says it's a side effect from my past, where he found me."

Percy stared at her, gaze unreadable. "Where exactly did Nico find you?"

Hazel didn't answer for a long few beats. Finn got wary. She didn't know if Hazel would pass out again, or maybe even cry. Neither option were preferred by Finn.

"I'll explain," Hazel promised finally. She clawed through her pack, but couldn't find what she was looking for. "Is... Is there anything to drink?"

"Yeah." Percy muttered a curse in Greek. "That was dumb. I left my supplies down at the boat."

Hazel shouldered her pack and sword. "Never mind. I can walk..."

"Don't even think about it," Frank said. "Not until you've had some food and water. I'll get the supplies."

"No, I'll go." Percy scanned the horizon as if he sensed trouble, but there was nothing to see—just the lighthouse and the field of grass stretching inland. "You three stay here. I'll be right back."

"You sure?" Hazel said feebly. "I don't want you to—"

"It's fine," said Percy. "Just keep your eyes open. Something about this place... I don't know."

"I'll go on lookout," Finn sighed. "Hazel and Frank, you can... rekindle, I don't know. I don't care."

She was absolutely miserable and she didn't care much about making it everyone's problem. Not even when they sent her pitiful glances, like they felt bad for Finn having to be sober.

They didn't voice those opinions though, fearful of setting Finn off in her sour mood.

They will all fear you.

She shook her head, forcing out the sound of Gaea's voice. Finn pulled out her handgun as Percy dashed off to the boat. Frank immediately began doting on Hazel, but Finn didn't pay attention. She figured they'd want their privacy. Maybe if they believed they were alone, they could finally figure out the... interesting relationship between them.

Instead Finn looked out on the surrounding terrain. She didn't take many situations seriously, but she wasn't going to dismiss Percy's worries that something about this place was wrong. 1) Finn could agree, to some extent, and 2) For an amnesiac, Percy somehow really knew what he was talking about.

The grass was rustling behind her, which captured the entirety of Finn's short attention. She was never a fan of grass, or dirt, or vines, or... anything relating to the earth, really. Well—Finn wasn't a fan of much besides wine, but the earth was certainly at the top of her list of loathing.

Hazel's and Frank's voices became distant buzzes in Finn's ears the more she focused on the grass. It was still rustling, in a way that made Finn grip her gun. Both of her hands closed around the frame. Her eyesight narrowed off the ledge of the gun, which she narrowed so she could better aim.

For a moment, Finn felt stupid. Gaea had messed with her head so thoroughly that Finn was on edge about some grass.

But then—

"Guys?"

Finn didn't turn around, but she could suddenly feel Frank's and Hazel's eyes on her from behind. They burned holes into Finn's back, and Finn's eyes burned holes into the grass.

"What?" Hazel asked.

"The wind's stopped."

A moment of silence where the two noticed the air had become perfectly still.

"So?" Frank asked.

Finn swallowed. She finally turned around to look back at them. "So why is the grass still moving?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Finn saw dark shapes ripple through the field.

"Finley!" Frank tried to grab her, but it was too late.

Something knocked Frank backward. Then a force like a grassy hurricane wrapped Finn, and then the same happened with Hazel.

Both of them were dragged into the fields.

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BAILEY YAPS...

Finley's ass being pissed af about being sober before she's even sober omfg her alcoholic ass Someone get this girl to an AA meeting😭🙏

Guys I think Finley is starting to trust yall she just told you 188 words worth of back story. I'm so proud of her. 

My little girl from Colorado. If you squint this is a Via Aquamcnti mention.

"She was... laughing at me. I'd give anything for that laugh." ☹️☹️☹️☹️

^^^^^ Chapter 26 of Wildflowers btw if anyone's like me and feeling nostalgic