disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson

(A/N): You'll probably start out confused. Don't worry. Let it flow :]

"Welcome to my dreamiest nightmare."

-"The Piano Song" Cursive

Chapter I: Of Pranks and Make Out Sessions

Hilarious. It was going to be just that.

In the medicine supply room, a walk-in closet with shelves that reach the high ceiling, complete with remedies and potions and everything you could imagine for the wellness of mortal, god, and everything in between, Travis Stoll rummages through the supplies on the left side while Connor looked through the ones on the right.

They hear a thump from above them, startling them both, not enough for them to jump, but enough to slow their pace and stare at the ceiling.

"What was that?" Connor asks warily.

"Nothing. Probably imagination," Travis dismisses, continuing to search for what they had gone into the Big House for. Dietary pills…No…Midol—NO…sleeping herbs, potion ingredients…No…Dragon snout?! What the…

"Both of ours?" Connor adds skeptically.

"Stop being such a girl. Argus is probably walking around upstairs. Now, find those laxatives!"

Connor rolls his eyes and pulls a bottle from the shelf. "Found it!"

"Alright!" Travis congratulates, high fiving his brother. They had been planning to prank the Ares cabin by using the Mythomagic box chest they'd stole from a ten year old Demeter kid. Their prank consisted of them putting laxative pills in it—planning to place it in the armory where Ares kids were most likely to stumble upon the authentic looking treasure chest labeled "Mystical Steroid Pills of the Gods."

Yes, it was going to be divinely funny. The Ares toilets were never going to be the same ever again.

They get ready to leave when they heard the same thump sound from above them, only this time more continuous and gurgling, like some sort of angry, hungry lion was getting poked with a stick.

The Stoll Brothers slowly meet gazes.

Normally, when one hears a freaky noise, they tend to run.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Travis smirks.

The noise overhead continues.

His brother bounces the bottle of laxatives up and down in the air, catching it singlehandedly every time, the identical mischievous smile gracing his lips as well.

"Race you." With two words, the brothers bolt in the direction of the stairs, running straight into curiosity.

Later that day

Apollo had taken the sun down for the day, and by now, Percy had found himself more tired than hungry as dinner rolled around. It had been a long day of training and fighting and capture-the-flag, and the boy was just exhausted beyond repair at the moment. He'd take holding up the sky again than having to go through this day on repeat.

Er. No. Scratch that. Melodramatics.

But anyway, for the most part, he was sleepy—for lack of eloquence.

While everyone had gathered at their tables to feast on tonight's pizza, Percy was on his lone way back to Cabin Three. It's not like he was missing much by skipping a meal tonight anyways. Even with all his friends, the Poseidon table can get lonely.

Not that he was trying to act like a desolate crybaby. Oh gods, no. The boy just wanted to hit the hay.

The moon shone over the camp tonight, the constellations in plain view—improved from what one could see from the city. In the brilliant quiet, past the distance, he could hear the rippling sound of the creek. Perhaps it was only natural. The occasional squirrel would pass, or the giggle of a dryad, and Percy was constantly reminded that he was never alone in this place. Whether that was a good or bad thing was eternally debatable.

He was near the cabin area now, only having to pass trees and rocks from the mess hall, when he heard a flirtatious laugh, low voices, and the occasional bout of silence between—well, he didn't want to finish the thought because soon enough, barely hidden by shadows of pines and elms were two teenagers, so blatantly making out in the middle of the path.

Awkward.

If it wasn't bad enough having to pass by two people necking in the middle of your path, he just had passed the couple in the right amount of moonlight to see stringy hair in a bandanna, the owner's face disappearing into another, taller, more muscular figure.

What the shit.

He most certainly did not want to witness saliva exchanges between Clarisse and Chris right before he went to bed. Good thing Percy skipped that meal because he had the strangest feeling he'd have seen it end up on the ground in front of him in a matter of seconds.

Trying desperately not to be noticed, he ambled as cautiously and casually as possible past the two. And he would've made it too.

If it weren't for that damn (dam) oh, so strategically placed twig that snapped so loudly when the Genius Called Percy stepped on it.

The incessant sound of face sucking stopped.

Oh thank the gods.

The growling voice of Clarisse took its place.

Oh damn it all.

"Can I help you, Fishface?"

Fishface? How beautifully creative.

Turning slowly, he met the annoyed, murderous face of Clarisse, and the blank, yet slightly amused gaze of Chris.

"Uh…No," Percy answered lamely. "Not at all—uh, just passing through."

"Oh, are you bothered by it?" she sneered.

"No—uh—"

"Sorry Jackson. Didn't mean to disturb your little perfect world," she grabbed Chris by the wrist and dragged him away deeper into the woods, where, Percy would rather not even wish to elaborate as to what would happen there. But before she could leave his hearing range entirely, he heard her say something like, "He's just jealous. Jackson can't seem to decide who he wants." And he swears he saw her turn and smile wickedly at him before completely walking away with an unfazed Chris alongside.

Now what the Hades could she mean by that?

Normal circumstances would have made him call out and go, "Wait—what?" but it was nighttime and he was tired and the other two looked so eager to continue their business, and with Clarisse being one of the two, he'd rather not push it.

As he was about to violently shake the image and noise of the grossest make out session ever, Percy heard the high-pitched sigh of a dryad close by. "Love," it said wistfully before completely disappearing into the trunk of a ponderosa in which it came from.

Okay then.

Finally, after much deliberation, he had made it to the cabin, and it didn't take long for him to find the comfort of his bed, since, of course, it's really the only messy one there due to it being the only one used. Good grief. The lonely anecdotes where just dropping from the sky tonight, weren't they?

It's not like he had a lot to be lonely about. Unlike the first twelve years of his life, where it had usually been just him and his mother, he had friends now. And not just hi-you're-the-kid-in-my-PE-class-that-threw-up-after-the-mile-run-and-you're-name's-like-Purse-or-something kind of friends. The real ones, that stick with you through hell and high water (literally, in Percy's case).

So really, as far as loneliness goes, Percy hadn't been acquainted with the word for a long time.

Now…what exactly did Clarisse mean exactly "decide who he wants"? The sentence was as ludicrous as it was confusing. Just what had she meant by that?

He hadn't even bothered changing out of his jeans, and ended up just throwing his jacket on the floor before heading for the comfort of his pillows—pajamas be damned. In a matter of seconds, as though his bed sheets had magical powers, he felt himself fall asleep at once, ready for the world of no dreams and just slumber in silence.

That is, until an earsplitting scream ripped through the night air.

(A/N): like it so far? And all you romantics out there, Percabeth is making an appearance. I swear. And uh, let's stir that up a bit, shall we? :]

Questions?