Chapter Text
So the class field trip to Arachne Labs wasn’t going as expected.
Which unfortunately, wasn’t unusual for Percy. Not that derailing plans was something he did on purpose, but it happened startlingly often for a guy who generally did everything he could to stay out of trouble.
Did getting locked in an empty lab constitute “trouble?”
Maybe not inherently, but considering the fact that this particular lab was owned by D.A.R.E. Enterprises, and worse, was so secure their class had to get special permission to even be allowed to tour…
He was dead.
So dead.
Guantanamo -Dead.
That is, if his mom didn’t kill him first. The moment Sally was informed her son had literally ( accidentally ) infiltrated a government contracted facility, filled to the brim with confidential information and tech….
…Okay, he was beyond dead. He was in decimated-from-existence-and-reality levels of trouble.
“Come on come on come on— “Percy desperately yanked at the handle, twisted at the bolt, dug at the seams of the entrance with his fingers, but the lock wouldn’t budge. He didn’t dare touch the keypad—with how his life was, he’d probably trigger a nuclear alarm or something.
He groaned, knocking his head against the door. He should have just asked where the bathroom was. In his defense, he had been positive it was through here.
It wasn’t.
So his lifelong curse of rotten luck had come back to bite him for the millionth time; it seemed to make it a point to thwart any good day he might have. At least it didn’t make Percy bitter anymore, so used to it that he expected things to go wrong, and wasn’t disappointed when they did.
Except now, when he was pretty sure he was going to get the chair. Or guillotine. Or…something. Did they still do that? Surely they’d interrogate him first.
Maybe his luck was why Percy awoke with a queasy feeling that morning despite the planned field trip. As a rule, field trips were great. They were a chance to get out of a classroom and see stuff, a balm to his ADHD—which screamed and frothed at the mouth from 7am to 3pm on a regular school day.
But he let his guard down. He ignored the feeling, and when the morning was uneventful, he forgot all about the vague notion of impending doom that churned in his gut.
And look where that got him.
In his defense, the facility’s cafeteria had hotdogs for lunch, and he loved a good hotdog. It distracted him. Not that the hotdogs were good; they actually kind of sucked, and that was the distracting part, spending most of the lunch break lamenting to Grover how disappointing the half-cold ‘dog was, as his vegetarian friend rolled his eyes—
Augh. Focus!
Percy’s nervous energy began to pulse off of his body in waves; emphasis on the “nervous” part. He paced. He wrung his hands. He tried the handle once, twice, fourteen more times, and he ran his fingers through his dark wavy hair so repeatedly that he worried his mom’s constant teasing about him pulling all of it out with his fidgeting would come to pass.
If he was going to jail, he wasn’t gonna go to jail bald.
New plan.
Percy slumped to a crouch, tugging out his phone—maybe if he could text Grover, tell him what happened—
No bars. No service. Not even a “guest wifi.”
New-new plan.
Percy stood, taking stock of the massive room; it was the size of their high school's gym, twice as tall, and so full of stuff that there had to be something useful here, right?
And there probably was, but as he scanned the cold, sterile environment, he found nothing was familiar enough for him to determine its “usefulness.”
His eyes landed on a platform in the center of the space with a giant glass tube atop; there was a chair within that looked like a torture device, no matter what the tour guide had said about it being for observing the nervous system. Percy wasn’t big on murder-chairs-in-disguise, so that was decidedly something to steer clear of.
Stainless steel tables were everywhere, piled with…stuff. Mechanical, electrical, chemical, some notes. Percy was at a loss, wandering between them and desperately looking for something he recognized.
A laptop. He knew what laptops were—he nearly missed the one balanced at the edge of one of the tables, and it was a joy to interrupt the screensaver’s dancing lights. It was wishful thinking, a one-in-a-million shot, but maybe there was a door code, or an override, or—
Password. Of course it needed a password.
…Okay, he could hack it, right?
Nevermind the fact that Percy had never hacked anything, ever, in his life, and did not know where to start. How hard could it be?
It turned out, not hard at all, considering the sticky note attached to the keyboard that read;
user: drathorn
pass: titan
No uppercase, no special characters, not even a measly numerical digit…which was the least of this top-secret lab’s issues if the password was written out right there, in the open, atop of the computer itself.
But Percy wasn’t complaining, and he logged in as fast as his fingers could move, bouncing on his heels, the jitters of anxiety, adrenaline, and plain old adhd making it hard to stand still. It took him three tries to correctly type it in.
The desktop was thankfully and disappointingly normal. He was kind of hoping for the Matrix, black screens and green text, but obviously he wouldn’t have been able to do much if it was, so…wins and losses.
“Okay. Okay okay okay, let’s see what we got…” He wasn’t sure what to look for; there was nothing straightforwardly named “door control overrides” or similar. It was doubtful those would be on a random work laptop anyway, but Percy clicked through folders and documents, muttering to himself as the titles grew more and more confusing—not to mention his dyslexia worsening with his stress. The words were as slippery as trying to hold on to a live fish slick with grease.
MC >> Phase 3 >> Human Trials >>Proposal Rejection 2.pdf
Chrono >> Initial Testing >>DISCONTINUED.pdf
Project Tapiserí >> Study 4, Formula 7 >> Control >> Subjects >> Specimens >> Statistical Data >> Fatality Rates >>URGENT!.pdf
Yeah. Whole lot of nothing.
Percy huffed a breath, “Shit.”
A beat. And then another.
“…Shit.” He retracted his hands from the keyboard to pull at his hair again—baldness be damned. This was it. It was so over. Soon his face would be plastered all over the tabloids; “Highschool Senior, Mysteriously Vanished Without A Trace! Neighbors Claim To Have Seen Men In Black Leaving Home (more on page 6).” There was no way they’d let it get out that some kid ended up in here. He’d become a conspiracy theory, the topic of girls doing their makeup on TikTok while talking about unsolved mysteries or whatever.
Percy sighed and prepared to accept his fate, moving to drop his hands when a sharp sting shot through his knuckles, up his arm, seemingly right into his chest. White hot pain flashed through his body, then dissipated in the same moment. He jerked, shouting an expletive far worse than “shit” that would make his mother cringe. Something small was flung from his hand.
It took a second for his vision to clear, spots and stars dancing in front of his nose and threatening potential unconsciousness. Percy took a deep, steadying breath, cradling his hand as he blinked around to try and see what had caused the sting.
There, on the desk, skittering over papers and equipment.
He squinted.
A tiny, regular, run-of-the-mill house spider.
Except he’d never had a spider bite hurt this much before.
“Son of a bitch. ” His breath hissed as he massaged his hand, already feeling a welt rising to the surface. And the stinging… that sharp stabbing pain didn’t seem to ebb as it should have. Instead, it felt like it was actually growing in intensity. Not nearly as bad as the initial bite, but damn unpleasant all the same.
And suddenly the lab was hot. Impossibly hot, considering how freezing it had been seconds before. Sweat beaded on the back of Percy’s neck, and he leaned heavily against the desk. Was that spider actually venomous? Was this an allergic reaction? Did he need to go to the ER before his skin turned black and his hand fell off?
Percy was considering ditching his sweatshirt when the hiss of the door behind him sounded, and in a flash the laptop was slammed shut and he spun with a shout of “I didn’t mean it!”
The blonde man there froze, blinking in surprise (and recognition?) at the high school senior in the middle of the lab; “…Didn’t mean what?”
He was familiar. He was so familiar, but Percy couldn’t even focus on that in the moment as panic flooded his blood stream. Then came the rambling; “I swear I was just looking for the bathroom and obviously this isn’t the bathroom and the door locked and I couldn’t get out so please don’t arrest me I swear I’m not trying to sell any government secrets or whatever!”
The guy stared for a moment, his blue eyes bright with a scar streaking through one of them like some sort of action movie hero. And then he laughed, “Don’t worry, man, happens all the time. Come on.”
…Just like that?
Percy heaved a sigh of relief and sped across the lab, eager to be out of this room.
The blonde guy gestured down a hall as they exited, “Pretty sure your class is this way, I’ll walk you. Probably shouldn’t risk getting locked in somewhere else, right? This place is kind of a maze.”
“…Yeah, right.” Percy responded shakily. His body temperature continued to rise as they walked, and now his skin felt like it was on actual, literal fire.
His guide frowned at him. “You feeling okay, Percy? You’re sweating buckets.”
Indeed, he could feel a droplet carving a path down his temple, but that suddenly became far less pressing than this guy apparently knowing his name, “Uh…yes?” He side eyed him, “Sorry, do we know each other…?”
Blonde-guy laughed, “Yeah, we do.” He pointed to himself with a grin. “Luke?”
And Percy remembered.
“Oh! Yeah, yes—wow, long time no see—you work here?”
Luke chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Yup. Turns out, the salary is way better than babysitting—and I’d rather put my degree to use after all that effort to get it.”
“Cool, cool cool cool, yeah, that’s… cool.”
They walked quietly for a moment, then Luke asked, “Annabeth here?”
Percy felt his chest tighten—but that may have been from whatever terrible crime that spider bite was currently enacting upon his body. “No, uh—I mean, yes, but she’s in AP Bio, I’m just in the regular class, so…different tour group.”
“Gotcha.” Luke scanned his badge, punched in a code, pressed his thumb to a panel, and allowed for a retinal scan so they could pass into a new hallway. “You guys still hang out?”
Oh boy. Here we go.
“Uh. Sometimes?” More like never. Which, when Percy actually let himself think about it for more than five seconds, sucked almost as much as how he felt right now with the heat and the pain and the new sensation of nausea rising in his stomach.
Luke looked surprised, “Really? You were inseparable as kids.”
“Yup.” Percy’s lack of elaboration must have been a clue that he didn’t want to talk about it, as Luke didn’t ask—but in reality, Percy was convinced if he kept talking he was going to eject his lunch, breakfast, and the previous evening’s dinner from his body.
It had been years since he’d seen his old babysitter, though Luke never really felt like a babysitter. Annabeth and Percy were preteens at the time, and in their opinion didn’t need someone to watch them, but Annabeth’s parents were always ridiculously strict. Something about “boys and girls shouldn’t be alone at home together.”
Luke was 18, in college, and the coolest person in the world to 11-year-old Percy. Maybe it was because Luke didn’t talk down to him or treat him like a little kid. Maybe it was because he showed his charges funny YouTube videos, or how he taught them moves from his Taekwondo classes.
How had Percy not recognized him? It may have been the fact that Luke’s face was older, more mature, more chiseled. His hair was a bit longer too, and eyes sharper. Could be the scar.
Speaking of…
“When’d you get the scar?” Percy blurted out before he could consider that this was likely a rude question, his curiosity getting the better of him, “You didn’t have that before.”
Luke laughed, scratching his head, “Was in a car accident a few years ago—looks pretty cool, right?”
Percy nodded. It was all he could manage at this point. His knees had gone wobbly, and he could feel his t-shirt drenched with sweat beneath his hoodie, clinging to his body and being generally uncomfortable. And he was dizzy. Fatigued.
He bit back a groan of pain, but it was taking every bit of strength to just stay upright and walking.
Luke shot him a concerned glance. “Sure you’re okay? You look kinda—did your class eat in our cafeteria?” At Percy’s weak nod, he sighed, “Shit, they had a food poisoning incident a couple weeks ago. I’ll have to tell them we’re still having problems.”
Food poisoning! That was it—the spider bite was just a crazy coincidence, lining up with the bland hotdog from lunch returning for vengeance.
Never mind the massive, throbbing bump that felt like it would overtake his hand at any moment.
“Ugh…” Percy rubbed his forehead, so slick with sweat his hair was beginning to drip into his eyes, “Of course.”
“I was hoping you’d grow out of your bad luck by now.” Luke chuckled sympathetically.
Percy’s return laugh sounded like the croak of a throttled chicken, “Yeah, well, I think it’s worse these days.”
They turned a corner and Percy found that somehow they’d made it back to the entry atrium, the sun beating down through a glass dome that made his vision spotty and the growing headache worse. This place really was a freaking maze.
The school groups were gathered in the center of the marble floors, their chaperones allowing for a break while they waited for their next tours to start. Students were laughing and chatting, a few Seniors who hadn’t figured out they weren’t freshmen anymore rough-housing and jabbing at each other.
Percy’s stomach flip-flopped—the sensation of which felt absolutely nightmarish in its current state—when he caught sight of familiar blonde curls and a green cardigan.
Great. Just perfect. She looked gorgeous, and she was going to see him looking like he got hit by the greasiest garbage truck in New York City.
Then it got even worse, because Annabeth turned and her face lit up, and she called “Luke!” before even noticing Percy next to him. Then their gazes locked and her smile faltered, eyes widening—and god if he could just sink through the floor directly into hell that would be great.
Luke raised a hand with a grin, a gesture that meant both “hey!” and “just a second!” and Percy The Walking Slimeball couldn’t even muster the strength to look grumpy about it.
At least Grover spotted them too, and his friend’s jaw dropped.
Well, I must really look like shit. Percy slumped over to Grover as Luke broke off to talk to the teacher, pulling her aside.
“Dude, what happened to you?!” Grover reached out to grasp his arm, and Percy realized he’d been swaying, as if about to keel over.
He steadied himself, leaning heavily on that grip. “Hotdogs.”
Grover’s brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to likely ask what that even meant, but was interrupted by a shrill “Mister Jackson and Mister Underwood, come here please.”
They turned to see Mrs. Callahan beckoning them over, and boy did that 15 foot walk feel like 10 miles.
Luke patted his shoulder as they passed, “We’ll have to catch up later, when you're feeling better.”
Percy could only manage a nod.
“Mister Jackson, Dr. Castellan informed me of the… situation.” The elderly teacher looked him up and down and pursed her lips, “Mister Underwood, you know where Percy lives, don’t you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Mrs. Callahan sniffed.”Obviously we can’t have him on the bus in his current condition, and we have 3 more hours scheduled. And you’re both adults now—you would still receive full credit for the day, of course—“
“Y-yeah, I can take him.” Grover shot a worried glance at Percy again.
New York was great because it had public transportation.
It also sucked because that public transportation was the subway, which Percy slowly realized he would have to traverse in his current state of “slow, painful death.”
But at least he’d get to go home.
They were dismissed, and Percy hazarded a glance behind as they made their way to the exit.
Luke was talking to Annabeth now, the two laughing and probably catching up, and Percy felt a sting that had nothing to do with the bite on his hand or the deterioration of his body.
Especially when the gray eyes of his old best friend found him again, filled with concern that honestly made Percy feel far worse than if she had ignored him.
He looked away.
And it was only when they were halfway to the subway entrance that he realized;
He never even found the damn bathroom.
🕸️🕷️🕸️
Percy’s hands were shaking so badly by the time they reached the Jackson residence, Grover had to unlock the door to the apartment for him. It hadn’t been a great trip; Percy had to book it to the public restroom before they’d even scanned their MTA apps. Things were downhill from there.
Sally wasn’t home from work yet, which meant Percy had a few solid napping hours before her fretting would begin.
“Don't get me wrong, I looooove my mom,” he groaned as Grover helped him flop onto the sofa.
“I know, Perce.”
“But she’s gonna freak out,” he mumbled, “like, she’s not gonna leave me alone for the rest of the night, make me drink water and eat crackers…”
“Sounds awful. Chug this water.” Grover shoved a giant commemorative cup from Coney Island into his hands, and Percy frowned. When did Grover even go to the kitchen to fill it?
He must be really out of it.
It took some convincing, but Grover finally got Percy to down the entire cup, and then another half.
“What’s that?” He asked as Percy handed the cup back, refusing to drink more lest he really spew his guts.
“Huh?” Percy responded, intelligently.
“On your hand.”
Percy glanced down, expecting to see the giant, egg-sized welt that had formed earlier; red and raw and angry. But instead…
A scab. Not giant, but big enough to be noticed, and he frowned.
“Spider.” He managed, flopping back on the couch.
Grover sighed. “Come on, Perce. Let’s get you on your side so you don’t choke and die if you throw up.”
Percy continued to grumble and whine, but soon enough he was settled on his side, hoodie wrangled off of him, hugging a pillow, a wastebasket on the floor, and vaguely aware of Grover saying he had to go as he ducked out to lock up with the spare key.
And then he was out like a light.
The rustling of grocery bags and his mother’s humming was what eventually roused Percy from his slumber. The jingle of keys sounded like church bells with how they rang in his ears.
Head. Hurt.
Percy pushed himself up, mouth dry as a desert, brain throbbing out his skull, but…
Temperature? Normal.
Nausea? Gone.
Shakes and aches and pains? Nada.
“Hey, mom.” He croaked, yawning.
“Hey kiddo.” Sally smiled, but there was worry in her eyes, “Your school called, and Grover texted—you feeling okay?”
“Better.” His eyes caught on a familiar box peeking out from the groceries, and he grinned, “Waffles for dinner?”
The guess must have been spot on, because she smiled, “I thought if you were up to eating—“
“I am.” He hopped off the couch and stretched, the headache too already fading. “Need help?”
“Absolutely. Can’t get a thing done without my sous-chef,” Sally teased in response, and Percy decided that he had merely contracted a 6 hour flu and that was that.
And hey, even the weird spider bite was almost gone.
