So, this is my first fanfic on this account, which means nothing. Though I do have a friend who writes fanfics, and aspires to be the opposite of her, and do updates regularly. I'll be aiming for 1,300 words a chapter so enjoy. Here the playlist I'm listening to at the moment, if you wanted to check it out,


I don't own PJO just the OCs.

Grey Eyes.

Hey. My name is … wait a minute.

A quickly spam the B on my X box controller. Yeah I got a new X box 360 a few months ago after I broke my old one, by throwing it out the window. I'm currently playing Fifa 8. I got it for my birthday last week.

"Noah Andrew Mathews! Get your ass down here!" My dad yelled from down stairs.

What have I done now? Nevermind, I ran down stairs. Better to get here quickly before he drags me down there by the hair.

"What do you want, father?" I ask in an emotionless voice. My father's a very smart and good looking man, but it's not a wonder my mother left him. He's damn strict, rough, doesn't show emotions and has the sharpest tongue on earth he probably knows more profanity than a pissed off sailor. But I could give him a run for his money any day of the goddamn week.

He's a military man, a captain of one of the Navy SEALs in Texas. Oh yeah, that's where we live, 70 miles south of Houston, in Smith Point, Texas. A coastal town right down south, and there is a secret Navy base 18 miles from our house. Dad isnt currently deployed anywhere but he still goes to the base every day, and he stays there from 6.30am to 10pm doing what the fuck they tell him too.

It is a surprise that my dads still single, because he isn't ugly for a man in his late 40s. But I guess after mom, he couldn't move on. But I look almost exactly like him, same strong jaw, straight platinum blonde hair (with out the greying hairs or receding hairline), I even have the same haircut, a caesar cut but I grew mine slightly longer than you usually would keep it and I always ruffled mine to keep it spiked up. It sort of looks like Justin Hartley when he had a long spiky caesar cut but more controlled.

I look almost the same as my father, except for the eyes. I have her eyes, or at least that's what he tells me. A startling dark stormy grey, cold and calculating. People say it looks like I'm analysing their every move, which of course they're right. Beating an opponent requires knowing their weaknesses as well as strengths so you can then ruthlessly exploit the weaknesses you are better suited to your use. And knowing what their strengths are so you can know how to defend yourself against all possible attacks. Brute force isn't always the answer because, Even strength has to bow down to wisdom.

Quite different to his sea green. He says his eyes are from his dad. Someone who I've never met, one day when I was 13 I asked about him and all I was told was that he was lost at sea, and that he cut ties with my dad after my dad met my mom. Grandpa clearly didn't approve of her. I never asked again, clearly it was a difficult subject for him.

You may think he's neglecting me, leaving me all day, then not being there when I get back from school or even being there to cook dinner but I get it. He doesn't know how to be a father. His was never there, and Dad only joined the navy because he needed money to support himself since his mom died when he was 17, in a car accident. But after he joined his captains, senior officers were always the only father figures he ever had, and he wanted to help other people like him from nobody's families just trying their best, and be that figure some of them just need, so he stayed and ended up loving his work. Just like they say, if you love what you do then you'll never work a day in your life.

So tough love is what I get, it makes me strong and he knows that if he does everything for me my whole life I'll never learn to do it myself. He treats me like one of his soldiers, he'd happily sacrifice himself for but he'll still work me to death to just up to his standard.

So from age 10 I've had navy training, but things like swimming 500 metres doesn't bother me, dad could probably swim 100 miles and still be okay. When I'm in the water I just know what's going on around me, I feel stronger there, I feel safer, the water is like a home I never had. When dads near the water he gets this far away look, like he's mentally talking to someone. But another weird thing is that fish and other sea creatures swam to him, but never hurt him, and sometimes they'd even swim to me.

Like last summer I was surfing, and this massive shark probably 10 feet long swam up to me, and nuzzled me. I was scared but then I saw a fuzzy image of a man standing on the beach in the distance, he looked to be 40, black hair, tanned skin and sea green eyes. My dad's eyes, he smiled at me then disappeared and then I realised I was still sitting on my board, literally 10 inches away from a giant shark. Suddenly, like a dog running to its own the shark swam off, but I could have sworn I saw it wink at me.

But anyway, my dad is great, and you know our tough love both ways. I feel the same way, I love him but it is what it is. Sue me, but tough love is the only kindish emotion I know. Mercy is not an option in my life. To be merciful is to be too weak to finish what needs to be done. Unless of course my commander and or higher up tells me mercy must be shown. I show no mercy, I show valour, and I show loyalty only to yourself and one other person you trust come completely. Those are the things he drilled into me, trusting people can save you or get you killed, plus if you're right do not let others tell you you're wrong. If you're right then make sure everyone knows it.

Interrupting my thoughts was my dad yelling my name.

"Noah! Noah! Earth to Noah!"

"Ah! Sorry, I mean. Yes Sir!" I stood straight fixing my posture, meeting my full height of 6ft 3. Dad reckons I'll get to 6ft 5 soon, and he's only 6ft 4. But he says, my genes are strong, and powerful. So for some reason he thinks that means I'll be really tall. For a 16 year old, I'm already quite tall, but anyway. Most people describe me as a better looking young Justin Hartley, as we are the same build, with the same complexion and hair cut. I don't see the resemblance. Jk, we look almost the same, except my hair is blonder (if that's a word).

"Well I just wanted to say goodbye." That's when I noticed he was in his Navy SEALs suit. And my heart dropped.

"Please, no… No, don't leave me! I can't lose you… Please dad?"

"I - I don't have a choice." His voice cracked "But I promise I'll come back. Just remember the stories I used to tell you."

"You mean the ancient Greek ones?"

"Yes those. You may not realise it, but those could save your life one day. Well I must be going now. See you, son. Just know I'm proud of you. Always." And with that word, tears threatened to leak but I held them in for him.

"Always." he walked out the door, with a single wave he left. Little did I know that would be the last time I would talk to him. As he was lost at sea.

And cut! Thank you for reading, sorry about how that chapter was just mumbling and rambling. But it needed to be done, and I thought the last line fitted well, also I apologise about that chapter because it really had nothing to do with the books, but I have to reread the book just to get it all right. Please follow and favorite, wow saying that I feel like a youtuber saying, "Don't forget to like and subscribe!"