InsaneJournal

WHO: Xander Christopoulos
WHEN: July 05, 2011. Early morning.
WHERE: Camp Half-Blood
WHAT: Xander’s having serious thoughts about his role in the war.
WARNINGS: Nothing serious. It’s Xander.



In the big movies there was always that definitive moment when the teenage protagonist changed from average teenager to the hero who saved the world. It was usually marked by a swell in music and something epic happening. Peter Parker was bitten by a spider and turned into Spider-Man, the X-Men developed their powers and joined a team, and even Percy saved the world from a war with the gods because he was accused of being the lightning thief. Being the reincarnate of a demigod should have made that definitive moment easier; unfortunately, Xander was still waiting for his.

Camp was where he normally went when he needed to think, which lately had been an awful lot. Sure, it gave the added bonus that he could avoid Aunt Jackie--who he’d answered all of her ‘where have you been?’s with non-verbal shrugs, which only added to her fury over him failing his senior year of high school--but that wasn’t what was bothering him to the point that he needed an escape amongst the cabins dedicated to the Greek gods and goddesses. It was more sinister than that, and it left him with a hole that kept eating at his gut the longer he tried to ignore it.

Camp was supposed to be calming; it was why he had decided to walk around it, exploring nooks and crannies in an attempt to better get the feel of the place that felt more like home than California ever could. His trek had started by the entrance where the sleeping dragon lay guarding the golden fleece. The fleece sparkled on its branch of the tree, forever enforcing the magical barriers of the camp to protect those who dwelled in the cabins. It was meant to be protecting a much larger crowd than it did these days; the camp’s numbers were reduced to himself, Elena, Kimiko, and Jillian, with a guest non-demigod appearance by Guy. And even then, Elena and Kimiko weren’t exactly regulars. For the most part, Xander could wander and not be bothered.

He got as far as the Poseidon cabin before he lost interest in exploring. Too much on his mind made it impossible to get any real pleasure out of new discoveries, and while there was a pull for a therapeutic swim in the sound, Xander’s heart wasn’t in it. He was vaguely aware that at any moment he could run into Jillian--if she hadn’t left on her self-proclaimed quest yet--or Guy, and talking meant attempting to put his worries into words, something he wasn’t sure he could do. Instead he slipped inside of Poseidon’s cabin to embrace the comfort of his solitary mess; a cabin meant only for the children of Poseidon, and Percy Jackson alone.

The cracked fountain was alone in the middle of the room, desolate and abandoned as it had been since Percy had used it for the last time. Golden drachma glinted on the bottom, awaiting someone to pick them up and use them. An Iris message away. Percy had had help an Iris message away from the moment he got that fountain, and the simplicity of it made Xander angry for a brief moment. He crouched down, gathering up a handful of the gold coins and stared longingly down at them. What he wouldn’t give for a father to be a coin away to talk to about everything that was bothering him. Especially a god who could confirm for him what he was suspecting: he was working for the wrong team.

Xander let the coins drop back into the water with a heavy sigh and flopped onto his unmade bed. Being at camp wasn’t helping him come to any definitive conclusion.