ALL credits goes to Rick Riordan, and for the OC, me, for this character is from my own story. If you want to read it because you are interested with this fanfiction and would like to get some background information, just send me a PM or your email address, I'll send it to you.

PERCY'S POV

Inside Paul's Prius, it was quiet except for mom's sobbing. Her eyes were closed tightly, tears leaking out, with her hands clasping her shoulders with a vice grip. Her body shook uncontrollably from her sobs. I didn't know what to do : When I got home from Camp, all she said was that a brother she didn't ever know having had died before she crumpled onto the floor and started to empty her tears. I was just confused about the whole situation, and even before I could comprehend everything, I was tugged into Paul's car and heading towards where the funeral was being held. Paul's face was white, tight and worried. He loved mom and when she was sad, he was too - and alas, I was too. I fingered Riptide. I didn't know why, but I had a bad feeling deep inside my stomach.

"We're here,"

Paul muttered, and the car came to a halt. Without a word, we all got out. The first thing I saw were men in black suites. There were dozens - heck, hundreds of them, all gathered around the funeral place and the coffin. As I took a step back and studied their formations carefully, I found out that they were all gathered around a specific point. They were ignoring all other people except for a teenage boy, kneeling right next to the coffin with his back to us, seemingly wailing his heart out. Mom disappeared inside the crowd with her white flowers in hands, already wet with tears. Paul stood awkwardly beside me for a second before rushing after her. I was left alone, not knowing what to do. Then, a warm hand touched my arm. I whirled around to find a man in a dark green suit with sad, sea green eyes. Poseidon, the God of the Seas, aka my dad.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"I sensed something bad. Percy, I want you to stay by my side. This place reeks danger."

I nodded numbly. He was worried about me? If he truly is, I decided, it must not be a simple threat. With dad trailing behind me, I carefully walked towards the teen. As I got closer and a better view of him, I saw that he was pretty muscled, but kind of thin. He wore a black hoodie and a pair of black jeans - all worn out with various-sized holes in it, showing the bandage under. Maybe he was abused. I winced at the thought. The men in black suit parted for me and dad, eyeing us suspiciously. I tried not to pay much attention to them, and tapped the teen's shoulders. He whipped his head around. I gasped at the sight, and dad flinched behind me. Okay, I'm not saying he was so ugly that I couldn't stand it. He was handsome, alright, but a long scar that started at the middle of his temple, slightly to the left side, and ran down to his cheek, marred his left side of the face. There was just a long patch of skin, slightly raised from the original, that seemed to cover every other features. His left eye was gone. His right one, blazing with fury and sorrow, glared at me. I studied his interesting eye color, somewhere between gold and brown and flecked with black, and his unnaturally pale skin that reminded me of Nico. His face was streaked with tears. He gazed at me for a few seconds, then burst into another fresh round of sobs, and turned away, shaking. I didn't even know this guy, but suddenly, he seemed so alone, so lonely, so small and broken, I couldn't help but crouch down next to him and pat his back comfortingly. He flinched, whipping his eye up, but soon turned away. Dad walked forward to stand behind me, and I sent him a sad look, then turned it towards the teen. He seemed to understand. For another twenty minutes, I just stayed there, ignoring my aching knees, trying to comfort the stranger. Then, finally, the teen sniffed angrily, and wiped away all his tears and blinked up at me and dad with his red-rimmed eyes. Immediately, he leaped back and snarled at us. The black-suites flinched, their hands inching towards their guns I just noticed.

"I'm coming, you bastards,"

The teen snarled at them, then looked at me again, a lingering bit of sadness in his eyes.

"I heard that my father's sister was coming. I don't know if you know her, but her name is Sally Jackson. Please get this to her."

I blinked in surprise as the teen shoves something towards me. It was not a letter like I thought, but a simple, silver necklace with a rocket hanging on it.

"It was my dad's."

The teen muttered sadly.

"I guess his sister can have it. Don't, ever, think about having it to yourself. I'll kill you, if I can.."

I sensed that his words were genuine and very, very true. Then he turned away and slowly walked towards the guys in the black suites. They immediately flooded around him, and silently walked away. I just stood there, with the cold weight of the silver rocket on my hand. Dad turned me away and started to walk away, the air eerily silent while I just wondered what happened, all the while suddenly realizing the fact, too late, that the teen must be the deceased's son. I slipped the rocket into my pocket. For mom.

Hey guys. This is my new story : Constructive criticism is welcome. Please review : It gives me a better idea of what I'm writing better than anything. 'The teen' is from my own story, not a gary stu or, for instance, a Son of Poseidon, Zeus, Hades, Artemis, Hera, Kronos, or anybody like that. He's not a demigod nor is his life a perfection like those of a gary stu's. If you want to read the story because you are interested with this fanfiction and would like to get some background information, just send me a PM or your email address, I'll send it to you.