#A chubby viking who totally isn't based off my brother

[jflashandclash]

Tales from Mount Othrys

Magical Daycare I

 Author’s Note: The chapter in which Ajax finally gets his nickname and the Pax brothers become WAY less confusing to tell apart. Also, this takes place the day after Flynn’s Surprise Parenthood.

           Ajax was excited for his first proper day aboard the ship. Sure, the morning had a rough start, as had every morning for the last six months. Ajax had crawled into his older brother’s bunk once he heard his brother’s breath ease into unconsciousness. Good thing too. Thirty minutes before dawn, his brother woke up screaming, terrifying their bunk mates out of their beds and making a panicked Jack kick their door open.

         Apparently, their new Mom had vetoed sharing a room with them, so the brothers ended up in a room across the hall.

         “What’s wrong? Who do I need to kill?!” Jack shrieked, wielding the porcelain top of a toilet for a weapon. He wore a T-shirt and boxers that might have once been white before dallying with a red sock in a laundry machine.

         As Ajax had practiced many times before, the younger boy willed his eyes to get teary. This wasn’t hard. He also had nightmares about losing their Aunt and Uncle, but he didn’t have his brother’s uncontrollable vocal practice upon waking.

         Axel was red in the face; his hand clamped over his mouth. His eyes darted around, remembering where they were. He covered his head, muttering in Mayan.

         “I had a nightmare,” Ajax said, trying to keep the attention off his older brother. Axel needed to put on his Mist mask before the others noticed anything weird about his face. Fortunately, the room was too dim to see Axel’s ears or teeth, but the light trickling from the hall might reflect off Axel’s eyes.

         What Ajax said was true: he had a nightmare. But, he didn’t need to specify that he wasn’t the one screaming.

         Jack lowered the toilet lid, exhaling. “Night terrors are common around here. Do you want a glass of milk before you go back to bed?”

         Ajax stared at the gangly redhead. It was like this guy had pulled Generic, Background Father Figures: the Manual and pulled lines from it. Did people’s parents really talk like that? Maybe it was an American thing. He was waiting for Jack to clear out the ship’s mini golf course, put a white picket fence around it, and invite Ajax and Axel to play catch.

         Ajax, personally, loved it. It was cheesy and simple. As long as Jack didn’t end up being someone who liked to touch boys at night—as Ajax’s older brother speculated—then it was awesome.    

         Once Axel put on his Mist mask and got his breathing under control, he said, “N-no. Once—um—Ajax has a nightmare, we can’t go back to bed. We can train—or—or work…”

         Under the covers, Axel squeezed Ajax’s arm to show his appreciation. Unlike his older brother, Ajax had no shame. Since everyone thought he was several years younger than he was and people typically weren’t sure if he was a girl, they were gentler on his breakdowns.

         Jack set the toilet lid down to prop the door open, seeming to realize that lid probably weighed half of him. Axel said carrying Jack the other day was like carrying a sack of dandelions.

         One of their roommates—Chris from backstage—pressed a pillow over his head to block out the scattered light. From the shadows in the hall, Ajax could guess other kids had gathered around at the noise.

         Jack shooed some of them away. Once done, he leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I have a morning routine that Luke makes me do for my voice. If I don’t, it, uh, can be bad.” Jack raised one hand to tug at his hair. “Uh… who is up at this—oh! Oh! I know where to put you.”

         Ajax and Axel hopped out of bed. Axel went to pull his jeans over his boxers and grabbed for a fresh band shirt that Jack had loaned him. Atop that went Julian’s medals. Jack promised to take them shopping sometime this week. Ajax didn’t mind. He was so small compared to Jack’s height that Ajax could have worn one of these shirts as a dress. If he had a belt, he absolutely would.

         Ajax snapped his fingers. He grabbed one of the long band shirts and a flannel button down shirts that Jack had brought them. Ajax slipped the first on, then tied the former around his waist.

         Jack gave him a confused look, but shrugged.

         Axel just sighed.

         Jack waited for them to brush their teeth with complimentary room toiletries.

         They shuffled into the hallway, Ajax rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Axel was in the middle of pulling his hair into a bun. He startled and almost went for a weapon when he saw someone was with Jack.

         She was probably thirteen or so, a year older than Ajax. Her black, messy curls hung long, all the way down her back, and she was rapidly stuffing them into some kind of scarf that she wrapped sloppily around her head. Her skin was a warm olive, speckled with acne. Her eyes were large, brown, almond-shaped, and fierce.

         “Ah! Uh—Sadie--?” Jack said.

         “Mercedes,” she said in a curt tone.

         “Mercedes,” Jack corrected, giving her an apologetic, cute grin. The girl didn’t seem to notice as she finished adjusting her hair and scarf. She had to start over, like she wasn’t used to the actions or needed a mirror to perform it with perfection.

         “Do you remember how to get to the lab?” Jack asked her.

         Mercedes maintained a blank expression while confidently saying, “Like the blind leading the blind.” She had a slight accent, one Ajax couldn’t place but felt like he should recognize.

         “Perfect!” Jack said. “I’m going to gargle some saltwater. Can you get my boys to the lab? Have fun boys! I’ll come to collect you once I’m done getting my voice ready and checking on Lucille’s wounds.”

         With that, Jack took a step back towards his room. Then he paused and turned. “Mercedes? Like the car?” he asked.

         She continued to give him a deadpan stare. “Like the opera, Carmen.”

         “Huh,” Jack said. As he disappeared back into his room, he softly sang, “Quand je vous aimerai? Ma foi, je ne sais pas—” to a tune that Ajax had heard dozens of times but never knew the origin of. He always assumed it was from a kids’ cartoon.

         Without looking at Axel or Ajax, she started down the hallway. “Names,” she said.

         “Axel,” his older brother said, taking stride behind her. “It’s nice to meet you.” Although Axel had hated their father’s formality lessons, they showed in his peacock manner.

         Ajax scurried to catch up to their longer stride. She was several inches taller than him and had a pace closer to Axel’s.

         “Camille,” Ajax said, suppressing a grin. It was the first unisex name he could think of.

         “His name is Ajax,” Axel said.

         Ajax pouted. Axel wasn’t going to let him play any of his usual Am I a boy or a girl? Or What race am I? games that he and his sister, Lapis, liked to pull on their  past tutors.

         “That’s too many A’s, too many X’s, and too much awesome. What’s your last name?” she asked.

Both boys too stunned into silence for a moment. She spoke so fast and neutrally that neither could tell if she was mocking them.

         “Pax,” Ajax said.

         Axel swatted the back of his head.

         Ajax whined clutching his hair. He switched to Spanish. “What?! It’s not like dad can find us on a cruise ship. And why didn’t you let me pretend to be a girl? This is the first person our age that I could mess with.”

         “I knew you were a boy,” Mercedes said like he hadn’t been speaking in a different tongue. “You were bunked with boys.” There was a distinct pause when a smirk crept onto her lips. “And your manhood is showing.”

         Ajax blinked and scrambled to rearrange the flannel shirt to cover his no-reason-boner. In his hurry, he hadn’t realized how obvious it was with the band shirt and no pants. Before he’d run away from home, he remembered Kouta and Axel sitting him down to explain that this was a normal part of growing up, that some mornings and randomly at other times, that part of him would decide to make itself known without any psychological or physical reason.

         His older brother looked more mortified than Ajax felt. “I’m sorry—” he said, “He’s—”

         “Going through puberty and not used to hiding it yet,” Mercedes ended for him. That definitely wasn’t what Axel was going to say, and his blush showed it.

         Her tone was casual, more like an adult health provider than that of someone their age. Someone that should have been teasing him. “I have brothers at home,” she explained. At the end of the hall, there was a stairwell. They descended the steps rapidly.

         In that moment, Ajax decided he liked Mercedes. Most other girls would have thought he was gross for this thing out of his control. His sister had been cool about it. Lapis had gotten her period a year before and he helped her get excused from lessons or chores when her cramps were bad. In return, she helped make distractions when he was in public with this problem.

         Lapis also enjoyed teasing Ajax, saying she should have had the no-reason-boners; and he, the period.

         Ajax was about to announce that he liked Mercedes—something, in retrospect, he shouldn’t say with his current problem—when she continued, “Plus, I enjoy having blackmail on my associates. Now…” She poked Ajax’s arm. “You go by Pax Two. Guard your first name with your life and only hand it out to those you trust.”

         Ajax blinked. Pax? He could go by Pax.

         The now-christened Pax Two said, “Why do you cover your hair? It’s pretty.” It had looked wild, like his.

         Axel scowled at Pax, like the question was rude. But, if the older boy wasn’t going to make conversation, Pax wasn’t about to let them walk in silence. Axel’s eyes had been scanning the ship nonstop, like he expected a monster to hop out and eat them. That was Axel’s job—to keep them from being monster feed. Pax’s job was to distract Axel from the seriousness of that job. And scout for Axel’s potential girlfriends. And Mercedes was witty and cute.

         “Because I prefer nosy, little boys to appreciate my quick tongue and unfathomable patience before my hair,” she said, keeping her eyes forward. The smile on her lips grew.  

         Pax thought about covering his hair and some of his face with a cloth, but decided that would put too much attention to his eyes. People who didn’t have heterochromia probably didn’t have that problem.

         “I like your accent,” Pax said. He still struggled with his. His little brother, Hiro, and Lapis had easily covered their home accent in both Spanish and English. The older two, Kouta and Axel, still had the same ticks Pax did. “Where are you from?”

         The silence that followed made Pax scared he’d asked another rude question. Axel told Pax not to freely state where they were from, but Axel was paranoid about telling people his favorite color. (Currently, it was the dull blue of a jaguar cub’s eyes.)

         Mercedes hesitated. “Morocco… Fez, Morocco.” She sounded uncertain. Maybe she was as paranoid as Axel. “My brothers are still in the medieval district.”

         “Is that… in Europe?” Pax asked. Normally, he got to play this game with others. Not many people could point to his homeland on a globe.

         “Only to those who haven’t seen maps of Africa,” Mercedes said with that same neutral tone. She stopped in front of a pair of closed doors that had skulls and crossbones graffitied on it. “Catch.”

         She withdrew something from her Scooby Doo PJ pants and tossed the items at them in a spray.

         Axel and Pax both reached to reflexively do as ordered.

         They startled—she’d thrown a mix of pins and jacks, those tiny metal toys that involved the crisscrossing of metal bars. Things that would hurt to catch wrong.

         Instinct took over.

         Axel had always been better at juggling, but that didn’t mean Pax was bad at it. The brothers snapped their hands out, working together to catch the four various sized pins and three jacks. One slipped from their reach. Axel caught it on the tip of his foot and kicked it back up.

         While it was suspended in air, it was like they were back in a performance. A sly smile crept onto Axel’s face as he glanced away, like he had forgotten the flying projectile.

         Pax, meanwhile, jumped to have the tiny jack balance in his hair.      

         Once accomplished, the brothers gave each other grins. They bowed slightly, Pax keeping his head up so the jack wouldn’t fall off. They presented the items back to her as though she were a queen.

         Mercedes stared. “Huh,” she said. “Performers?”

         “For awhile,” Axel admitted. He straightened to full height. Seeing Axel relax and stop glancing around the room like he expected a rhino to charge them, Pax hoped that this Moroccan would end up Axel’s type.

         “Which of you has steadier hands?” she asked, glancing slowly between their outstretched palms. Neither had scratched themselves on the pins or jacks.

         Axel nodded down to Pax as Pax dipped a lower bow. Instead of taking her items back, Mercedes rearranged all of them. She took all but one of the jacks and put them into Axel’s hands and placed all of the pins into one of Pax’s.

         “Pax Two,” she said, “This is a pin and tumbler lock.” She pointed to one of the pins in his hand. “This is a tension wrench.” She pointed to another that squiggled towards the end. “This is a rake.” She pointed to the jacks. “These are hex shields.”

         “We’re breaking in?” Axel asked. The corner of his lips tugged into the standard Pax boy smirk. Pax’s heart fluttered. Maybe this girl would be Axel’s type.

         “We’re interviewing,” Mercedes corrected. She leaned against the doorframe. The motion made Pax think she wanted to avoid any potential explosions that might erupt from the door. “Luke thinks he can do everything around here and I’m going to prove to him that he’s running himself thinner than a piece of paper. Pax Two, take the tension wrench and insert it into the lock. Apply a gentle, consistent amount of pressure. Pax One, if you hear a whisper of voice from anyone other than the three of us, throw that jack at the lock faster than a god chases after a nymph.”

         Pax did as told. Axel tilted his head towards the door in a way that Pax knew meant Axel had tilted his ears as well. This was the best set up they could have had: Axel could probably see any weird curses on the door.

         The idea of spells made Pax giddy. Hadn’t she said hexes?

         Mercedes continued. “From my research since Luke got here, he has the only spy contact in the entire encampment. And he only spies on the Greeks, whoever they are. They need a better spy network in New Rome, and I’m recruiting. Pax Two, take the rake and ‘rake’ it across the tumblers on the top side of the keyhole. Rotate the tension wrench gently back and forth as you do so. Pax One, get ready.”

         Pax obeyed. This, he decided, was fun. He’d always loved seeing spies do this in movies. And, he really wanted to impress Mercedes if she thought he could do something. Pax was terrified of fighting. Seeing Axel on the stage—Pax had sobbed uncontrollably, waiting for his brother to make one wrong move against the much bigger, more trained Julian. As much as he’d managed to keep a smile on his face, the image kept popping back into his head—one of Axel’s jaw cracking into Julian’s skull right after Julian stabbed them.

         If Jack hadn’t been there, they both would have died, needlessly.

         Here, Pax felt the memory ebb. His mind blanked as he listened for a click and jiggled the two picks.

         Mercedes gestured to Axel, who kept his eyes on the door. “No doubt they think you’ll end up in the Assault Unit.” She pointed at Pax. “You won’t. I’m recruiting and I might be able to keep you together if you both impress me.”

         Something gave under Pax’s fingers.

         Before Pax heard anything, Axel launched the jack.

         Pax expected an explosion or massive light show.

         Instead, a sliver of green smoke emitted in a funnel from the knob. It sank into the jack.

         Now, the metal was tinted green.

         Mercedes’ hand snapped around the jack before it could physically strike the door. Then, her fingers dipped down to clutch Pax’s in a way that froze him.

         Voices erupted from inside, like a sound barrier had been breached.

         The brothers looked at Mercedes.

         She had the pointer finger of her other hand against her mouth for silence. She flattened herself against the doorframe to make herself as invisible as possible.

         Without needing further instruction, Axel flattened himself on the opposite doorframe. Pax scrambled to Mercedes’ other side. He would have felt safer beside Axel, but, here, he could easily receive instructions from the thirteen year old girl. And investigate if she used nice-smelling shampoo or bath wash.

         Pax caught the distinct mix of sweet and acrimonious that comes from coffee beans.

         Once they settled, Mercedes soundlessly opened the door a few centimeters.

         An enraged male’s voice came through the door, along with the clatter of some glass. “I want off this boat, Luke. What are you going to do when the son of Poseidon sends a rogue wave to hit the ship? Do you really think he’s so stupid to never think about that?”

         “Wow, Alabaster! Calm down! I’m sure Jack can do something for your sea sickness—”

         “I don’t want that maniac anywhere near me.”

         Pax glared over the door to Axel. Even if Jack had seemed off his rocker, he was nice, gave them donuts, and sang them to sleep that night. Yea, that normally would have made Axel embarrassed enough to jump out of the boat, but Jack’s voice had been so soothing, it knocked them and their cabin mates out within moments.  

         Axel kept his gaze on the door, frowning slightly at the insult to their new caretaker.

         Mercedes shoved Pax’s face back so he’d lean against the wall again.

         “Don’t change the subject. You’re an idiot for letting him live—”

         “Torrington,” Luke growled. That must have been the kid’s last name. Or a mythological insult. If it was an insult, it was a cool sounding insult. Pax wouldn’t mind getting called a Torrington.[1]

         “No, we’re not going to pretend here. What are you getting at with this kid? First you poison him with a pit scorpion, which took me WEEKS to train and you LET IT DIE, then you don’t finish off the job? All you had to do was follow through, Luke! Then we keep the monsters off Percy’s back all summer like he’ll be grateful and will forget about the whole scorpion thing and how you framed him for an Olympic level theft—and now you THREATEN to kill him again?! Whose side are you on?! Either successfully recruit him or kill him. I don’t care if you’re jealous—”

         “I am NOT jealous of Percy Jackson.” Luke’s voice had grown icy. “You don’t need to worry about him thinking of a rogue wave—”

         “Or clogging our engines with sea trash and leaving us dead in the water—”

         “He’s too dumb to think of that!”

         “Ah, and you assumed this ‘idiot’ would know to get the Golden Fleece?” the other boy’s voice became more metered, more critical.

         “Annabeth is smart. She’ll figure out that they need the Golden Fleece to save Thalia’s tree. She’s brave and resourceful.” Luke tone was so endearing towards the girl, Pax had to wonder who she was. The name sounded familiar.

         “This stupid, convoluted plan again? We could have sent some of our heroes to collect the Golden Fleece on our own. Flynn already offered, as have new recruits. Then you could have used the Fleece on Thalia’s tree without hurting her. But no, so much more noble for you to poison the girl you love—”

         There was a loud thwap. Something clattered in the room. Pax knew that sound. Someone had been hit. He trembled, thinking of the times their father beat Axel in front of Pax to punish Pax for doing wrong. Their dad knew his children were more likely to behave when he beat the others.

         A shrill female’s voice said, “Don’t hit my broth—”

         Then was hushed.

         A tense moment passed where Pax realized that he did not want to be caught on the other side of this door when Luke stormed out of there. He did not want his mother to help him escape one abusive home only to run into another.

         When Alabaster spoke again, his voice was tight and muffled, like he spoke through a hand or a clenched jaw. “I’m saying that, if I were someone Luke Castellan unnecessarily poisoned, then I was saved by Percy Jackson’s heroics and I found out that it was only because Mr. Castellan couldn’t bother to do it himself—”

         “Al,” the younger girl in the room begged.

         “—then I might not be ecstatic to join his cause,” the boy finished, “Especially if I had the temperament of a storm.”

         Luke’s voice was low and terrifying. “She will join, Torrington.”

         Pax focused so intently on the conversation and keeping himself flushed against the wall that he didn’t hear someone else approach them. Not until a puff of blond hair came into his peripheral.

         Pax held his breath. The boy was somewhere between Pax and Mercedes’ age. If Pax were told to bring a baby Viking to show-and-tell (something he’d heard about in American schools), then he would have brought this boy.

         He had fluffy, sandy hair that poofed out around his red ears. The only area the boy’s skin didn’t look pale to the point of transparency was on his sunburned nose and cheeks. When he paused in front of the door, he fluffed out a leather work apron, like it was a ball gown. His pale blue eyes were full of energy as they darted from Mercedes, to Pax, to Axel.

         The smile on his face twisted to something mischievous.

         Mercedes exchanged a glance with Pax and Axel. Her hand had clutched Pax’s arm, about to shove him into action, though he wasn’t sure if it was to jump the baby Viking or run away.

         Before she could encourage either, the boy shoved both of the double doors open. “Lord Torrington!” he bellowed as deeply as a pre-pubescent voice could. “I seek your audience at this fine dawn hour!”

         The only response was an uncomfortable silence inside.

         Mercedes dragged Pax out from the wall. They were still out of sight from the room’s inhabitants, but now it didn’t look like they were eavesdropping. Axel mimicked the motion on his side of the doors. He looked at a loss to get to their side of the hallway. They needed a distraction.

         The Northern boy skipped into the room without invitation.        “Ah! Luke! What a glorious occasion to see your—”

         “This conversation isn’t over, Torrington,” Luke growled.

         Pax wondered what the conversation was originally about. He also wondered if he could jump to the ceiling and spider-hang there. They were too slow. Luke rounded the door, his blue eyes narrowed with rage.

         The expression froze Pax in his place; the three of them were busted.

  ***

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed getting to “meet” three of my favorite characters from TFMO. I also hope you guys have had an awesome start to the best year for critical rolls XD Stay tuned next week for Ajax’s Part II!

 Footnote:

[1] Foreshadowing XD

#Tales from Mount Othrys #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #PJO #HOO #fanfiction #writing #Ajax #NOW KNOWN AS PAX FINALLY! #this wasso fucking confusing and I'm the damned writer! #Mercedes <3 #A chubby viking who totally isn't based off my brother #Lou Ellen's voice #Alabaster #Luke being a dick #I guess that's just Luke #Do I need to clarify? #HAPPY NEW YEAR!