Brice Family Holidays

Sam stood just outside the boundaries of Camp Half-Blood next to her sister's car, waiting for Russ, her half-brother to come out of the camp. She had made a mistake telling him what time to come out, she had forgotten Regan was always fifteen minutes early to everything.

"You'll like Russ. He's not boisterous or destructive. He won't steal anything. He's not going to whoopy cushion you every time you try to sit down." Sam told Regan, knowing that there had been problems with other siblings she had brought home. And children of other gods.

Regan chuckled and shook her head. "Sammy, calm down, I have dealt with enough demigods to know how to handle them. A lone demigod is not going to intimidate me." Regan ran a hand through her short cut brown hair, Sam wrinkled her nose a little as she did. It always made her think Regan looked like Justin Bieber when she did that. Sam kept brown hair much longer, which prevented any Bieber comparisons, other than that, the two looked fairly similar in the face. Both around 5'7, so a little tall, but a long face and strong jaw. Sam was more lean, though, while Regan was surprisingly stocky. The family resemblance wasn't too hard to see, but there had been plenty of people who didn't notice until something was said.

Sam looked down at her watch. "He should be here any time now. Then we can go. And I demand Christmas carols. Mr.D is all like 'We celebrate Yule here.' Bah. Humbug."

"Never knew Yule had a Scrooge. And he better get here soon, I'm ready to get gone."

Russ wanted to get away from Camp so badly for Christmas.

Not because there weren't any grand celebrations for it. It was simply because he was invited to one of his half-sister's house during this time.

Wearing his backpack on his back, he hurried down Half-Blood Hill. Sam told him the specific time and date, so he was quite confident he would make it early. Turns out he was wrong.

As he trotted to the border, he noticed Sam and Regan waiting for him. But he guessed they were simply early, that's all.

He waved at them on approach. "Hey!" he greeted, before giving his half-sister a hug. Sam, to clarify. "And you must be Regan. Hi!"

"You must be 'I swear he's not gonna cause any trouble.' I mean, Russ. Hop in, guys. I want to get the hell out of dodge No offense, Russ, but I'm not particularly fond of that brood of megalomaniacs that your father belongs to. They had their time three thousand years ago, now they need to retire and leave us the hell alone." Regan said, more than a note of bitterness audible to Sam.

Sam sighed and rolled her eyes as she opened the door to the beat up old pickup truck that Regan drove. "Can we please not start that again? Already? The gods aren't all bad, and they're better than any other alternative. Like the Titans. Monsters ruling the world."

Sam was greeted by a grunt in response. Kind of typical from Regan. "You'll have to forgive her...She has an outsider's perspective. Hasn't forgiven them for needing to swear on the River Styx to claim their kids. She had a lot of unclaimed friends, back before the Titan War."

Russ felt a bit unpleasant when Regan's response was cold. But he's optimistic. Climbing into the backseat, he looked at Sam. "So, where are we going?" he asked, looking in front of him; the question was for both of them. He half-heartedly hoped he would end up in Manhattan or Brooklyn. That was all. Then he turned to Sam, whispering. "And by the way, is your sister always like that? You know, hateful toward the gods?" he said carefully, hoping Regan didn't hear him, but he guessed she did. He thought about how Christmas this year was going to be different. He thought from now on, after his mother's death, he would've had to celebrate alone.

Now he knew that he had lots of brothers and sisters to look up to.

"Hateful to the gods? Ehh, more of disagreeable to the gods. Like I said, outsider's perspective. She doesn't end up as connected as we do, just gets to experience all the unpleasant side effects. Monsters, monsters, feuds, war, monsters." Sam said quietly, but smiled encouragingly. "But she doesn't have any problem with you, Russ. Demigods are fine. And we're going to the other side of Suffolk County, not too far of a drive. Regan has a small house, in a not very crowded neighborhood. It's nice. Quiet. Better than some other places."

"Welp, still better than stayin' at Camp." he said excitedly. "I mean, they don't even throw any celebrations whatsoever. Lame!" Russ pressed on the word lame, before reverting to a different subject. "Do you guys always go home for Christmas?" he asked. "Hold on, no need to answer that, I guess the answer is yes?" He abruptly stopped them before they could reply to his previous question. "I like peace and quiet." Russ admitted, laying down on the seat of the car. "You won't have to worry much about the monsters."

The demigod took time to look at his surroundings. The car went down the hill, preparing to leave Long Island. He momentarily looked back in the direction of Camp, before focusing himself on what's ahead. There were a bunch of mortal cars passing by, and jay-walkers along with joggers. He was impatient, but today he managed to calm his impatience down to an average level.

"Not every year. There've been a couple Christmases we missed. Last year I was in the Army and couldn't get away for Christmas. We do try to have a nice Christmas every year, but don't jinx us too badly with that quiet stuff, y'hear?" Regan said as she drove the car.

"Ah, yeah, Regan is a little superstitious with the 'Q' word. Says it always brings Murphy's law down upon us. I keep trying to tell her that Murphy isn't in any of the pantheons, but..."

"The Greeks have a Murphy. He might not be called Murphy, but I'm sure they have one somewhere. Someone to make everything that can go wrong go wrong."

"I don't think Murphy exists. Well, except for Eddie Murphy and anyone else named Murphy, otherwise there's none." he insisted, simultaneously joked. "Logically, it would create anarchy and disorder in the mortal world if it ruins your Q-word-ness, as there are lots of Q-word places and environment."

"And don't worry. I can talk a lot, but if you wish, then my lips are sealed." he assured Regan.

"Sam, you didn't tell me your brother was an optimist." Regan said with a laugh.

Sam shrugged, leaning back in her seat as she looked between her brother and her sister. "Gotta have on in every family, don't we? I mean, can't have everyone be doom gloom and seriousness. Or pranksters. Or thieves. Need a nice lively bunch. I told you that you'd like him."

Sam shot Russ a smile as they drove through the countryside into suburbia USA.

"I can be optimistic. Sometimes pestimistic. But otherwise, I am very...lively, like she said." Russ looked at Sam, responding her smile with another curled up smile. "And don't you worry. I ain't causing any trouble. For the past 16 years, I haven't. Not much, actually, but I'll be different from all the other demigods you brought home. Guarantee 1 year warrant." he assured again, still making another joke.

It was about an hour later that they pulled up to a small house at the edge of a suburban development. It had two stories, but was still fairly small in comparison to the other ones the neighborhood. A simple run of Christmas lights silhouetted it, and there was an inflated Santa in the front yard.

"Welcome to Brice Manor. Or, that ughly house down the street. Pick a name. She's not much to look at, but she's nicer on the inside. Cozy." Sam said as the car stopped and she opened the door. Despite picking on the house, she was glad to be home-ish. It wasn't her childhood home, but Regan had lived there a few years now, and it had wiggled a little spot in her heart.

The car pulled up on a walkway of a two-storey building. It was dwarfed by the other houses in the neighborhood. The exterior design was not so great, set in terms of a luxurious subject. The front yard has an inflated Santa, which Russ guessed must have been overflated, because Santa was unusually obesed, even with the regular Santa Claus standards.

"It's amazing." he regarded. "Again, thank you for inviting me here." Russ thanked them again.

Grabbing his backpack left in the trunk, he moved from the street, up the solid pavement and into the stone walkway, up toward 'Brice Manor'. "You and Regan live here alone, Sam?" he abruptly asked, peering inside through the window. "Doesn't seem like anyone else lived here." he continued, his gaze fixing onto the living room

"Mostly just Regan, actually. I'm only home for short holidays. Sometimes a little more." Sam said as she entered behind Russ. Regan, she noted, had put up a small Christmas tree and a few stockings on the fire place. It looked a little festive, but not very. Regan had always tended to be a little less on the festive side for things.

One thing Sam did notice, though, was the heavy smell of cinnamon was going through the house. It was a lovely smell, though a little part of her wondered why the entire house smelled like cinnamon. Air freshener? Candles? Those weren't usually Regan's thing. "Tree looks good, Regan. I see this year you remembered to put lights on it."

"Hey, hey now, don't go telling all these stories to Russ and make him think I'm some sort of absent-minded crazy. He just got here. Give him a chance to find that out on his own." Regan said with a laugh. "To be perfectly fair, and she probably wouldn't tell you this, I was sixteen when I forgot the lights."

Russ observed the Christmas tree closely, then tilted his head, and looked at some of the decorations on the wall. "Oh, it's nothing, Regan." he backed Sam, "but yeah, sis, I don't handle spoilers really well." then continued to back Regan.

When Regan told him she forgot the lights, he laughed gently, "Welp, people make mistakes, do they? Forgetting the lights, nothing's wrong with that. Actually it does, but not so severe." Russ said, somewhat kind.

Russ continued to circle the room, gazing at the decorations for a short moment, before abruptly asked. "Hey sisters." said Russ. "Where do I sleep? If I have my own room, can I see it now? I'm tired from the drive." he said.

"Ah, yeah, up the stairs and to the left. Don't pay any attention if there's a few stains here and there." Regan said, and Sam shot her a concerned look. Usually Regan was fairly fastidious. How much had she changed since her accident?

"I'll come with you, my room is across the hall from you." Sam said, grabbing her bag.

"Breakfast is at 8."

Russ nodded. "Yeah I'll nap a bit. The ride was murder." he said, yawning slightly before accompanying Sam upstairs. Regan was right: there were visible stains on the stairs, and he swore he saw ketchup. He imagined a wild party, and a bunch of guys had the Battle of Sauces, spraying each other with chili sauce and ketchup, with jalapenos to make it worse. Although that seemed improbable.

Russ and Sam arrived on the second floor and darted to the left. Their rooms were indeed opposite. He gently pushed the door open. The room was neatly tidied, the beds made, the books Russ would never read were aligned on the shelf. "Dang. Never had a nice room like this before. My room back home with Mom wasn't as nice as this. Same goes for the places I resided during my continuous moving around the States." he complimented. He threw the bag to the foot of the bed and landed face-first, falling asleep instantaneously.