𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘, followed immediately by a hushed curse. 

Brooklyn's eyes shot open, her knife raised to defend herself before she was even fully awake. Over thirty days on her own, and every sound had her on her feet and ready to fight. She was tired, but she wasn't afraid. 

That was the only reason she was still alive.

Keeping her breathing steady and staying light on her toes, she creeped around the edge of the garbage can she had been sleeping behind, peeking for the source of the noise. The alley wasn't very wide, and with trash cans and trash littering the sides of it, it looked even more narrow. Which was good for Brooklyn, because it meant she knew all hiding spots.

She could see another trash can, not very far from her own, knocked over. Near the can, a teenage boy around her age — a little older? — cursed as he hopped around on one foot.

For the first time in thirty six days, ever since she had left her house, Brooklyn found herself smiling. 

It might've seemed weird, but after everything she'd been through, something as normal as seeing a random person stub their toe on a trash can made her grin a little. It reminded her that everyone was in some sort of pain, maybe not the same as her, but maybe something similar.

"Fucking Hades," the boy cursed, kicking the trash can on purpose this time. He hissed, pulling his foot back again, "Ow!"

This time Brooklyn laughed, unable to help herself.

He may have been in pain, but it was fucking hilarious.

The boy froze, eyes landing on Brooklyn's trash can immediately. He dropped his foot, pulling out a sword from his waistband.

Brooklyn blinked.

Who the hell carries a sword on them? This wasn't the Medieval times.

"Who's there?" the boy asked, his dark eyes scanning the alley. "I heard that."

Brooklyn eyed the boy's sword, wondering it was real. Judging by how he held it, he could wield it quite well. And she wasn't in the mood to be a shish kabob just yet. Not before talking to the weird boy.

She stood up from her hiding spot, her own steel knife in front of her. 

The boy froze at the sight of her, holding his sword up a little higher. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Brooklyn tilted her head, studying him instead of answering. He was a little taller than her, and his curly brown hair kept falling into his eyes. She wasn't sure how well he could see through it. His eyes were dark, but the way he watched her made her realize he wasn't a regular kid. He'd seen parts of the world even Brooklyn hadn't. 

Which was weird because he didn't look much older than her. A year or two, at most. A dark, jagged scar ran down his face. Except it was red and irritated, as if it was still new.

"I'm Brooklyn," she finally answered, setting her knife down on top of one of the garbage cans. "And I should be asking you what you're doing here. You're in my house, wielding some weird little sword, and asking what I'm doing? That's not how it works here. Put the sword down, and we'll talk."

The boy tilted his head, "You can... you can see it?"

"Your sword?" she asked. "Do I understand why the fuck you're carrying it? No. Can I can see it? Yes, I have very good vision. Now put it to the side, because I'm not interested in being skewered today."

A little hesitantly, the boy reached to put his sword back in his holder.

"Ah-ah-ah," Brooklyn was quickly to snap her fingers and get his attention. She motioned to the many garbage cans littering the sides of her alley. "Put it to the side, and out of reach. And don't argue with me, I did the same with my knife."

The boy bit his cheek, but did as she told him to.

"See, that wasn't so hard," she told him. She grabbed a stool from the piles of trash around her, taking a seat. Kicking another one out for the boy, she passed it to him. "Take a seat."

He sat.

For a while, the two were silent. Brooklyn more than appreciated that. It gave her a moment to study him again. His clothes were tattered and worn, but they'd been new recently. Besides a few patches of mud and blood(?) and some torn pieces, there wasn't much wrong. 

Which meant the boy wasn't living on his own like Brooklyn. But he was on the run. 

The question was... from what?

"What's the point of this?" the boy asked, clearing his throat. "I mean, there's no need for this. I can grab my... my sword, turn around and walk right out the way I came. We can forget this ever happened."

"You have questions," she decided. 

"What?"

"Well, you're trying to figure something out," Brooklyn corrected. "Something about me. Because if you really wanted to leave, you would've left the second I put my knife down. But you didn't. Which means you've got a question or two to ask me, and you're wondering if you should ask them."

The boy stared at her, unable to fix his shocked expression fast enough. Brooklyn smirked. She was good at this.

"Since you're not asking your questions to me, I'll ask my questions," she shrugged. "What's your name? And why do you carry that sword around?"

The boy bit his lip, looking around nervously.

Brooklyn waited.

"My name's Luke," the boy finally responded. He looked towards his sword, shrugging lightly to himself. "I keep a sword to protect myself, the way you keep a knife."

"Wrong answer," Brooklyn shook her head, imitating the sound of an incorrect buzzer. "Your sword and my knife don't serve the same purpose, and even you know that. You don't use the sword to protect yourself, you use it to fight." She tilted her head at him, "The question is... what do you fight, Luke?"

He looked up at her, not answering for a few moments.

Finally he shrugged, "Monsters. Anything that tries to hurt me."

Brooklyn sat back, seeing him in a whole new light. In her sixteen years of life, this was the first time someone made her feel normal. Sure he was talking about monsters and swords, but that was the part of her life she thought no one could see.

"Monsters like snake women and cyclopes?" she clarified. "Those weird metal animals that no one else cares about? Giant dogs that want your blood?"

Luke stared at her, realization dawning in his eyes.

"So you are like me," he muttered.

"And what are you, Luke?"

He pursed his lips, shrugging. His scar twitched. "They have many names for us, half-blood, demigod. The point is that we're not safe in the mortal world because there are monsters who want to hurt us. And unless you have a weapon made out of the same metal as my sword, you're gonna get hurt."

"Half-blood, demigod?" Brooklyn repeated. She'd heard those words before. Mostly by those monsters who wanted to hurt her.

"It means you're only half mortal," Luke told her. "And half god."

"God... like... like Jesus?"

Luke was talking slowly, but his words were making her head spin. The way he was so similar to her, but knew so much more. She didn't like not knowing. 

And all that crap about Gods. She understood monsters and shit, but being God? No. She could barely read, there was no way she was half god.

"Not God, a god," Luke corrected. "Or goddess, it's tough to determine. But I can explain more on the way to Camp." He paused, "You're... you'll come to Camp, right?"

Brooklyn raised a brow, "You said we're not safe in the mortal world. So Camp, it's a... a sanctuary? A place that's not really the mortal world? A place where people like us, where half-bloods, are safe?"

Luke nodded, "It's the only place we're safe."

"And where is... Camp?"

"Long Island Sound."

"Long Island Sound? Dude, we're in California!" She threw her hands in the air. "That's on the other side of the country. And I don't know about you, but I definitely don't have the money for a plane ticket."

Luke shook his head, "We won't be able to take a plane. Last I heard, the airport's infested. We would be slaughtered immediately. We have to travel across land the hard way. But it's worth it!" he added quickly. "You won't have to live in the alley, you'll have your own cabin with all of your siblings. There're Capture-The-Flag games, and so much more! It's... it's a great place for people like us. We stick together."

Brooklyn stared at him, poker-faced as she studied his expression. Right now, he had the look of a guy who wasn't comfortable with all the attention he was getting. 

No. 

He wasn't comfortable how well Brooklyn was reading him. He could handle attention, but he's never been seen like this before. And it bothered him just a bit. He wanted Brooklyn to come with him. He was alone, journeying across the country and back to the only home he'd ever known. Having another person with him didn't seem like a bad idea.

Brooklyn got up from her stool, pocketing her knife and packing up the few belongings she had in her old school backpack. Slipping her pack over her shoulders, she turned to Luke, raising a brow when she caught him staring at her, confused.

"What're you waiting for?" she asked him. "We've got a whole country to trek, and it's not going to be easy."

REY WRITES!

thanks for reading!!

this is right after luke's quest with the dragon!
more on brooklyn's life will be coming later!

updates aren't determined yet bcz i have exams
starting, but i wanted to give you guys a little
something <3

thoughts?

comments?

questions?

headcanons?

theories?