Hello Internet,

This is a random little thing that's been on my hard drive for about three years now and I'm tired of ignoring it. I'm posting it and stuff, and if anyone has any ideas as to how it should end, I'm all ears.

Enjoy

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"You look sad." A sharp voice cut through Peter's daze.

"What?" He said stupidly, and looking up to see a boy with messy black hair staring intensely at him.

"You look sad." He repeated like he thought Peter was stupid or something. Peter was not stupid, and took offense.

"No duh, there's a war going on." His spoke roughly, but softly, trying not to draw attention to his German accent. However, the boy didn't seem to care about his nationality.

"Yes, but you shouldn't care. You've got bigger problems." He told him like it was the funniest thing in the world. This kid had to be what? Nine or ten years old? Peter was easily twice his age and wasn't in the mood. He'd just spent the last year on the world's hardest journey from war-ridden Germany to the capital of the free world. His feet hurt, his head hurt, his spirit hurt. He couldn't deal with this kid right now.

"Whatever. Go away please." He sighed, leaning his head against the back of the park tree he was sitting under, closing his eyes and trying to relax.

"Uh, no." the boy said, and he opened one eye.

"Excuse me?" He asked incredulously. Awfully rude this kid was.

"I said 'no'. You're a demigod, and demigods shouldn't be sitting under trees in the open, unarmed. Especially when me and my sister are in the same park. You're gonna get killed!" He smirked like that would be very entertaining to him. Peter didn't understand a word of that, and was half debating just kicking the kid to get him to leave.

"Sure kid, whatever. I'm a god! Wooo! Now, do my bidding and go away." He sighed, leaning back. The kid frowned.

"DEMI-god. You're too ugly to be a REAL god." Peter's eyes snapped open and he glared at the boy. "Besides, if you don't believe me, care to explain why you can speak ancient Greek?" Peter sat bolt upright.

"I'm not speaking Greek!" He denied instantly, but even as he said it, he could hear the words as if from far away and knew they were Greek. He just knew it was Greek, AND he knew what it meant. How the HELL did that happen?! "What's going on?" He asked, panicked, and the boy started to laugh. It was kind of evil sounding and Peter got Goosebumps

"Nico! Ce ne andiamo! Vieni presto!" A voice called from down the path in the park. Was that Italian?

"Sto arrivando! Bianca,vieni a conoscerePeter! Miè comenoi, manon credo chelui sa cheèancoraun semidio!" The boy shouted back to the voice, in perfect Italian. Peter heard his name, but how did the boy know that? He was suddenly on edge. What the hell was going on? He must be sleep-deprived from his trip or something…

A girl appeared from behind the trees. She looked a lot like the boy, and it was then Peter realized they both looked very Italian. Just the features and stuff…. But they were both so pale, it was impossible.

"Chi è questo?" She asked the boy. She might have been thirteen or fourteen. She regaurded the kid very motherly like, so she seemed older, but was definitly younger than Peter.

"Peter." The shorter boy replied and Peter wondered again how he knew that. "And he's a demigod." Peter rocognized the Greek this time.

"Ok, WHAT the heck's a demigod?" He demanded.

The girl looked sympatheticly at him. "Do you know you're parents?" She asked calmly. What a stupid question, he thought.

"Yes, but they died in... in the war." He almost said 'the camps', but that was too much information to give a stranger. Especially in America. Peter only risked talking to them becasue they didn't seem to be natives to this country either. He didn't know how well talking to someone for the Allies side would like talking to a german speaking forgeiner.

The boy looked annoyed. "No, you're real parents! Not you're adopted parents!" Again, he wondered how the heck the boy knew that. The girl didn't seem surprised.

"Uh... my mother died in childbirth. My father never stayed." Why was he playing along to this maddness?

"Then you're father was a god."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Pardon me?"

"You're father was a Greek god. Your mother was mortal, which makes you a demigod—or half god." The girl clarified for her brother.

Ok, if he was half god, why didn't that come in handy trying to escape europe? Fat lot of good THAT did.

"You're crazy."

"Uh, no we're not." The boy chimed in. "Our dad's a god too! We're all demigods!" He cheered.

"Yeah, and i'm surprised we're not overrun by monsters yet." She said worriedly, glanceing around the park.

"OK, you've ALL had something put in your breakfast, becasue the ONLY way in HELL we'd be half god is if ... I don't even KNOW, but it's not possible, so could you all just PLEASE leave me alone!" Peter cried. He just wanted to relax for once.

The girl looked sympathetic, but the boy was staring at him strangely, as if he was trying to see through him. It made him nervous.

"Apollo." He finally said. Leaning back in triumph.

"Really? I supposed that fits. Blonde hair, killer teeth." She remarked, sizing him up. That wasn't the first time someone had commented on his blonde hair, and he was suddenly stressed.

He stood and started to walk away.

"'Blonde hair, blue eyes, live to see tomorrow's skies'." He boy sang softly and he froze in his tracks.

"What... was that?" He said stiffly, not turning around.

"Don't they say that? In the camps?"

"Come now Nico, that's not nice to bring up!" The girl scolded.

"But the Ghosts sang it! It's been stuck in my head for days!" He complained.

Ghosts? What was going on?

He turned back to them with questioning, frightened eyes.

"We're children of Hades. We see ghosts." The girl shrugged, but the boy—Nico or whatever- jumped up and down.

"And it's AWESOME!" He bellowed, while the girl tried to shut him up.

"It has it's moments..." She admitted, though she looked like she mostly disagreed with his statment.

"Hades...? Like... the UNDERWORLD Hades...?"

"Yep!" Nico grinned.

"Yes, and your dad was Apollo. God of the sun, archery, and medicine." The girl clarified.

"Cosa sta succedendo? Perché stai prendendo così tanto tempo?" A woman came down from the path to where they were.

"Niente! Abbiamo fatto un nuovo amico!" Nico said brightly to the woman who was obviously thier mother. She was the spititng image of the girl, but she had strangly light eyes. She really WAS Italian, with the slightly darker, tanned skin characteristic of the country, and except for her slightly lighter eyes than was natural for brunettes, was pretty much Peter's stereotype for Itailans. Well, except for the barette that looked like it'd fit on someone native to France. The girl gestured to Peter, who was staring at all of them in disbelif. Too much was happening.

"Parla greco?" She asked, and Peter generally understood that meant she was asking if he could speak greek.

"Ja, aber er kommt aus Deutschland!" With a jolt Peter realized the boy had spoken German, which he understood perfectly as ‚Yes, but he's from Germany!'

„Do you speak english as well?" He asked, suddenly in english, and Peter's head spun. How many languages did this kid know?

„Yes... a little." He really did have good english, but it wasn't great.

„Nice to meet you Peter." The woman said, in english as well, but with a heavy accent. „I take it you are like my children?" It took a moment for him to realize what she meant.

„My father..." He didn't know if she believed in that or not too.

„Is a Greek god?" She finished for him. So, she DID believe.

„That... it can't..." He didn't know what to say. It was easier to argure with the kids. An adult believing it too? That was too rich for his blood.

„I think we have much to talk about." She smiled gently at him. He suddeny felt a great surge of dread.