CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
FINLEY                   BRIGGS

They stopped at the front porch. As Finn expected, a loose ring of campfires glowed in the woods, completely surrounding the property, but the house itself seemed untouched.

Wind chimes jangled in the night breeze. A wicker chair sat empty, facing the road. Lights shone through the downstairs windows, but Frank didn't want to ring the doorbell. Instead he checked the stone elephant statue in the corner—a tiny duplicate of the one in Portland. There was a spare key tucked under its foot.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked.

For a long time, Frank didn't say anything. There was something at work in his eyes that made Finn think, maybe, he was thinking about his mom.

See, Finn's mom was just as dead as Frank's mom. That was to say, very dead. So it was easy to recognize that look of longing and mourning, because Finn often wore it herself, even after ten years of Isla Briggs's absence.

"Frank?" Hazel asked, when the silence went on for too long.

"Ella is nervous," the harpy muttered from her perch on the railing. "The elephant—the elephant is looking at Ella."

"It'll be fine." Frank's hand was shaking so badly he could barely fit the key in the lock. "Just stay together."

Inside, the house smelled closed-up and musty. They examined the living room, the dining room, the kitchen. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink. In the parlor, Buddha statues and Taoist immortals grinned at them like psycho clowns. Finn remembered Iris, the rainbow goddess, who'd been dabbling in Buddhism and Taoism. Finn figured one visit to this creepy old house would cure her of that.

Large porcelain vases were strung with cobwebs. The fireplace was dark and cold. The sight made Hazel hug her chest.

"Is that—?"

"Yeah," Frank said. "That's it."

"That's what?" Percy asked.

"'It,' apparently," answered Finn, unhelpfully. Percy rolled his eyes and nudged her in the side, then she nudged him back harder. They probably would've kept going like this if Frank hadn't interrupted their fight.

"It's the fireplace," he told them, which was stupidly obvious, but Finn didn't comment on that. "Come on. Let's check upstairs."

The steps creaked under their feet. Frank's room almost looked exactly as Finn would have expected it too—an extra bow and quiver, spelling awards (because he was the only demigod without dyslexia. Finn could only dream), and photos of an older woman that shared his features.

"Your mom?" Finn asked, and she'd never sounded this gentle before. "She's beautiful."

Frank was too choked up to answer, but the fact that it was Finn handing out the compliment seemed to mean a lot to him.

They checked the other bedrooms. The middle three were empty. A dim light flickered under the last door—his grandmother's room.

Frank knocked quietly. No one answered. He pushed open her door. Frank's grandmother lay in bed, looking gaunt and frail, her white hair spread around her face like a crown. A single candle burned on the nightstand.

"Mars," Frank said.

Finn, Percy, and Hazel all shared... certain looks.

"Frank?" Hazel whispered. "What do you mean, Mars? Is your grandmother... is she okay?"

Frank glanced at his friends. "You don't see him?"

"See who?" Finn asked, trying her best to hide the judgment from her tone. Now wasn't the time.

"Mars?" Percy gripped his sword. "Where?"

Frank jolted right after, having to clench his fists. Finn could've sworn she heard him counting to ten under his breath. She was really wondering if she was the drunk one, or him.

"Guys, it's... it's nothing. Listen, why don't you take the middle bedrooms?"

"Roof," Ella said. "Roofs are good for harpies."

"Sure," Frank said in a daze. "There's probably food in the kitchen. Would you give me a few minutes alone with my grandmother? I think she—"

His voice broke. Finn wasn't sure if he was going to cry or scream or punch something—maybe all three. A pit of sympathy spawned in her stomach. It was disgusting, and Finn hated it.

Hazel laid her hand on his arm. "Of course, Frank. Come on, Ella, Percy, Finn."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Here's the thing about Finley Briggs.

Finn knew she hid a lot from... well, everyone, really. There were many unanswered questions about her past that she refused to answer or address. The main reason she refused to answer or address these things to others was largely because she didn't want to address them herself.

It was easier to block it all out from her brain. To force herself to drink and have so much fun that the past was nothing but a distant memory, and if she was lucky, not even that.

That's why Finn hated sleeping so much. In unconsciousness, her past was always close behind. Memories of Jason, Lupa, Gaea, her mom. Everything.

Finn hated memories. She hated when anything got too close.

Throughout the duration of their quest, Finn had jumped at the opportunity to stay on watch every single shift. She'd never asked to sleep. She'd never wanted to. She didn't want to even imagine what would've happened if one of her plaguing nightmares found her, and her friends were present to deal with her reactions.

Unfortunately, she couldn't stand being awake much longer. She hadn't received decent sleep in over two days, and when she got as drunk as she was now, she got exceedingly tired. Finn was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow in one of Frank's guest beds.

"How nice it is to finally meet you face-to-face."

Sometimes, Finn had dreams where she was traumatized by horrifying, taunting visions. Other times, Finn had dreams of past memories that she failed at escaping. Both types of dreams, however, included Gaea instilling pure terror into Finn.

Tonight, this dream was the latter option.

Finn whirled around in her room. She had just finished getting ready for bed—had just told her mother goodnight with the usual, "I love you," and was about to burrow in her Spider-Man sheets to fall asleep.

She never made it back to her bed. Never would again.

"Y... It's—It's you," Finn's voice trembled, and so did her body.

Because Finn knew this woman. She knew this woman more than she knew anyone. She was familiar with how the woman wrapped herself in black robes, with a veil covering her face. How the woman spoke as if she were half asleep. How she actually was asleep, a fact made known by her closed eyes behind the veil. How her clothes were made of earth—dry black dirt, churning and shifting around her.

"Gaea," Finn realized, and as she said it, her mouth felt like it was full of dirt.

"Finley Briggs," Gaea smiled sleepily. She knew Finn as much as Finn knew her.

Finn looked around her room desperately. She needed something to defend herself. It was enough that Gaea traumatized her in her dreams, Finn couldn't handle Gaea doing the same in Finn's real life. But Finn was only six, and her room displayed that very quickly. There wasn't much she could do. Except—

"Mama!" she cried.

The woman's lips just curled further up into a smile. It made Finn's tremors worsen. She wanted this woman gone. She wanted her mom.

"Just a little girl who loves her mother," Gaea mused. "That's nice to see, considering I am a mother myself. But you will fight those children of mine someday. They say you will even fight me."

Finn's lips wobbled as she shook her head, desperate for this to be over. Where was her mom? Her mom could make Gaea go away. Her mom could do anything.

"I won't fight you," Finn begged. "Please. I won't. Just leave me alone."

This only seemed to amuse Gaea further. "You are afraid, Finley Briggs," she said. "Every second of every day of every life, you are afraid. I have known you since you were born. I have known since your first breath that I am going to break you."

Finn shoved the heels of her hands into her temple, screwing her eyes shut in hopes that this was just all one, big waking nightmare. But she opened her eyes and Gaea was still here. A tear fell down Finn's cheek.

"MAMA!" Finn screamed. She couldn't bring herself to do anything else.

Downstairs in the Briggs household, a bang was heard.

"See, the Fates say I fear you," Gaea murmured. Her pale, sleeping face was barely visible behind a curtain of dust, and it gave the sense that she had just risen from the grave. If Gaea was asleep, Finn wanted her to stay that way. Finn knew that fully awake, she would be even more terrible. "It's laughable how wrong they are. It is not me who fears you, crazy hero. But they all will. They will all fear you. And I will destroy you."

"MAMA!" Finn sobbed.

Footsteps were bolting up the stairs. "FINN?"

Finn was unable to call back. Gaea now loomed over Finn.

"The insanity festers in you now," the Earth Mother analyzed. "I would beware of that if I were you."

She wasn't even wrong, was the worst part. Finn could feel it, thrumming through her veins. Her body felt like a live wire. Her eyes felt like flames. It only got worse the harder she cried, and at this point, the tears were so fierce that Finn could flood the Earth with them.

"Finn? Baby?!" Isla Briggs banged on Finn's door. Gaea had locked it, preventing Finn from getting out and Isla from getting in. "Open the door, Finn!"

"Open the door, Finn," Gaea taunted, echoing her mother's words. "All that power inside, and you can't open a door?"

Finn couldn't. She could only cry, and feel the hysteria grow fierce. Her vision was now obscured completely. She could barely even hear her mom.

"Baby! Why is the door locked?!"

Someone was beating on her door. Someone was laughing drowsily, as if there was a war they'd already won. Finn shoved her hands against her eyes, but it didn't quell the overstimulation in the slightest. She screamed with desperation.

And the madness consumed her whole.

Finn woke up with a gasp, just like she did in the next part of her memory. Or nightmare. Or whatever the fucking hell it was. Her heart still beat the same rapid pace—It felt like a heart attack coming to finish Finn off in a way she wasn't able to do before she lost consciousness the first time.

Her body was shaking, shaking, shaking. It didn't matter how much she clawed at herself now. It didn't matter how much she clawed at herself then. No amount of visceral reaction in her body would matter. It wouldn't change anything.

Finn had lost control of the insanity within. She knew it before the police even told her what happened. It was evident in the way she unsettled them—how they didn't seem able to quite meet her eyes, or linger too close to her disheartening aura.

It was evident in the body they carried out of the house, that resembled Isla Briggs far too much for Finn's liking.

In the bed of the Zhang mansion, Finn let out a choking, ugly sob. Her back was pressed so hard against the bedframe that it imprinted her skin through her clothes. Her fingernails dug so far into her arms that she was pretty sure she was bleeding.

None of it worked to distract herself. She still saw her mother's dead body in her mind. She still heard the coroner's jurisdiction. She still felt the imaginary blood on her hands. She always would.

In the end, Isla Briggs's death was ruled as a suicide.

Finn cried harder, and she had to bite her fist with her teeth so she wouldn't wake anyone up. So she wouldn't sob like an idiot, just like she had that night with Gaea. But it was so hard not to. It was so, so hard, because Isla Briggs's death was ruled as a suicide, and that's exactly what it was.

Finn hated it—she hated it so much—but she had the ability to curse other people with madness. It was shown on display that wretched night. She only found it out because of that wretched night.

Isla Briggs had finally managed to break the door down when Finn had finally lost control of her abilities. Gaea had dissipated into the Earth, and Finn's mother was hit directly with Finn's curse.

Finn single-handedly drove her mother insane. She made her mother go so insane that she killed herself.

If Finn pulled her knees up to her chin, if she wrapped her arms around her shins, she could almost feel like a little kid again. She could almost trick her drunken brain into thinking she was still an innocent. She never went to Camp Jupiter. Her mom was still here. They were happy.

But Finn had been at Camp Jupiter for nine years. Her mom had killed herself. She didn't know what happiness tasted like. She only knew the taste of dry, acidic wine, drunken so heavily in the hopes that she could black out the memories of the past.

It never worked, if Finn's current situation was any kind of example.

She killed her mother, and Gaea knew it. Gaea would break her, the crazy hero, and Finn knew it. They could never escape each other, and they both knew it.

Insanity wreaks until a final breath.

The only recent comfort that Finn could find, was the hope that this line of the prophecy meant her.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

BAILEY YAPS...

She had Spider-Man sheets :(

Finley Briggs I'm so fucking sad for you I'm going to cry you were just a little baby who wanted your mom who didn't know how to control your powers and now you are so alone and everyone just doesn't care they judge you for existing instead and when you finally made a connection after your mom he judged the surface-level view of you as well

And they call her lazy but she's constantly trying her best trying to live past the weight of what she did and they call her drunk but she's doing it to try and escape her past not to have fun and and and

Anywho any Finley Briggs hate past this point will be punishable by death

Anywho Finley Briggs and her tragic backstory 🤝 Leo Valdez and his tragic backstory

(This is because since the prophecy is different Gaea would be after Finley instead. So Finley's basically being terrorized every day of her life Yay ❤️ How is that for lore drop. It took 22 chapters but she finally got there)