DISCLAIMER: Whose house are we gonna raid if Nico dies in HoH?
Rick Riordan's.
*I HAVE NOT READ HOH AND WON'T FOR AT LEAST ANOTHER WEEK, SO IF YOU SPOIL, Nic and I will track you down and kill you with naught but hot sauce, sand paper, and a screwdriver, and it shall last no shorter than but not confined to one fortnight. Don't say I didn't warn you*
And if this doesn't make too much sense to you, please read the AN at the end. Thanks.
oOo
A messy kitchen was something Ethan had grown used to seeing.
For one thing, his dad had never known how to cook. The harpies ate anyone who dared trespass in their workspace at Camp. And, of course, here at Mount Othrys, the monsters' meals were cooked next to the demigods', so the place designated for food preparation wasn't exactly the prettiest collection of rooms.
He thought nothing of the smaller, more private cafeteria as he passed it. Hardly even glanced its way. He didn't think it'd be in use, but just in case it was, he made sure to keep his eye averted. As he always did. The tinted windows weren't going to reveal much anyhow.
Two hands shot out of the doorway.
Ethan was used to guarding his left; it wasn't his blind side that did him in. It was the speed of those hands. Not even a dracaena could move that fast. He didn't even have time to cry out before his arms were pinned and a hand slapped across his mouth. Panic lit faster than fire as he wrenched to one side, pulling away-
-Pointless. He was yanked off his feet and dragged through the threshold. He thrashed and kicked, aiming for anything. His foot connected with a knee that felt solid as iron.
Two seconds later he was on the ground, pinned beneath a heavy body. He stopped the vain struggling when he saw the golden eyes.
Kronos was a mess. Golden Ichor – yellow in the low light – was splattered across his perfect white getup. Blond hair was strewn to one side and tangled in wild frizzles. His eyes were wide and unreadable but, undeniably, desperate.
Ethan wasn't sure if he should speak.
The Titan's grip did not waver, strong as Stygian iron. One arm was planted across Ethan's collarbone, its fingers and nails digging into his shoulder, and the other planted on the floor. His knee was pressed painfully into Ethan's thigh. The dark ceiling above made his pale skin seem inhumanly smooth, save the blazing dead-white scar on the left side. And those eyes of molten gold, forever hiding secrets kept since ancient times.
A horrible thought struck Ethan at that moment. He really wished he'd ignored it, but either way, it didn't matter – the Titan could take what he wanted with the utmost impunity. Nobody would come to help even if Ethan called for it. And as weird as the thought might've been, it wouldn't put it past Kronos. He'd seen the lunacy in the creature's eyes. That Titan craved for more than the world could ever give.
As was his nature.
Fear of being pulled into that black hole of golden eyes had his heart speeding again. It was stupid to speak, but he had to know. "M-my lord-"
"Ssh," the Titan purred, finger brushing against his own lips. Golden eyes flared dangerously. "Not a word, Nakamura. Follow my lead."
Ethan swallowed. He really didn't want to go there, but what the Crooked One wants, the Crooked One has ways of getting.
The Titan nodded and rolled away silently, vanishing and leaving naught but the dark and broken ceiling beams in Ethan's view.
Oh. Well. His cheeks burned with embarrassment and ignominy stronger than coffee spiked with nectar. The suggestion seemed quite silly now.
He got to his knees and look around. The cafeteria was a complete and utter mess. Whoever had gutted the place had been very cruel; the chairs had been left wounded and strewn throughout the room as a sick testimony to what they'd once been. The tables were overturned and several in pieces but more or less still in their regular positions, making a checkerboard pattern with the floor. Spare napkins were waving sadly, weighed down by a liquid inaccurately displayed in the dimness, stained white flags begging for their lives. The bottles of ketchup and mustard had exploded in violent flowers of scarlet and bright yellow. He spotted one ominous gaping hole in the wall nearby.
And that was just as far as he could see with one eye in the gloom.
Kronos had knelt behind a close table on its side, using it as a blind. Ethan, recalling his orders, got to his knees beside him and laid one hand on the hilt of his sword. The whole room reeked strongly of something….
…He couldn't put his finger on it. Something suspicious.
He didn't like it here. The tattered tomb of chairs and tables and condiments spelled nothing but doom to him.
Kronos sent him a glance, two sharp, glowing knives of gold lighting the immediate inky blackness. "Keep an eye open," he mouthed.
Ethan nodded, not bothering to point out the obvious, and turned to watch their back. His skin itched with the urge to know what he was searching for, but Kronos had yet to tell him and wouldn't until he was ready. For all Ethan knew, their lives might depend on him not knowing just yet. At least it kept his senses open for anything.
He narrowed his eye and scanned the blurry, dark room. Nothing but the gruesome corpses of the furniture.
Then there was a sound.
It sounded hauntingly like a laugh. A high-pitched, strained, hardly controlled giggle. Ice shot up his spine and he whirled, but there was only Kronos and the overturned table. The Titan was rigid and staring. The Ichor strewn across his shirt seemed to have a thick, goopy consistency.
The Titan caught Ethan's gaze. "We are at war," he hissed.
Ethan nodded and crouched, listening for another laugh.
Kronos stared over the lip of the table for a moment more before nodding decisively. "…Move out." He dropped to the floor and crawled forward silently on his elbows.
Whatever had wounded Kronos and had him worried, Ethan didn't want to face alone. He got down and followed closely.
The floor was warm, the way a freshly dead body is. It made his hair stand on end. Slowly, surrounded by the threatening darkness, they crept forward for the next place of cover – half a toppled table.
The last few feet, Kronos slithered rather quickly. Ethan didn't ask. He followed suit. A pool of something thick and hot was in his way, proudly owning that ominous reek; he charged straight through it and grimaced as it soaked through his shirt. And then bit his tongue to keep from cursing when it made him realize he wasn't wearing armor.
He pushed himself up, pressed against the Titan so that they both fit between the table and the wall. Here, in the center of the room, he could make out a space cleared if he dared to peek – the middle of the cafeteria had been cleared of all, of tables and chairs and the slaughtered ketchup bottles. It was too dark and too large to see if more blood had been spilled here.
Kronos clearly plans for there to be, he thought grimly.
The Titan sunk lower, eyes blazing with anger and that dangerous desire. Ethan didn't have to ask to know that the impending battle was not far away.
He'd draw his sword if its glow wouldn't show their position. Rather, he wiped the sticky liquid off his face with his left hand and secured Savior's hilt with his right. The warm, gooey substance was going to fling all over the place when he got into motion.
He stopped and sniffed at it. Yes, it definitely that menacing smell that had cleverly evaded his mind's reach. But… The oddest of things popped into his mind at the scent now…
He was so shocked, he forgot his place. "This smells like cheese!"
The room exploded.
Light burst into existence, searing through his eye like the infernal fires of Tartarus. He cried out and slammed it shut. Beside him, the Titan let loose a bellowing scream – a furious war cry – and shoved the table away so hard Ethan heard it shatter against the wall. Thundering footsteps gave away his charge.
An ear-piercing screech echoed the wild call. Ethan forced his eye open and squinted, but all he could see was still the blazing light. It was worse now with the table gone.
Nearby, something splattered. A triumphant cry that was achingly familiar rose above Kronos's furious roar.
What was she doing here?!
"Brook?" Ethan gasped, eye flying open. He flinched but held it that way.
Brook was still by the light switch she'd flicked, the grin of a hungry cat on her face and bow slung sheathed behind her back. In her hands were two cans decorated with orange and red letters.
Anger surged through him at first. What, all that training, and she was still content to run into a fight and die unarmed? "Draw your bow!" He leapt to his feet and drew his sword, looking around for the enemy.
Brook turned her smile on him. "Would you like me to do that?"
He was ready to cuss her out when another battle cry sliced though the air.
She came out of nowhere. Flying across the room like a diving eagle. A swish of golden hair and black hoodie came bearing down on Kronos like Thanatos's oily wings and the Titan found himself covered in sticky golden liquid.
Not Ichor, Ethan could see now. It was the wrong color. He looked down at his ruined shirt and soaking arm and confirmed it;
It was cheese.
As Kronos howled and shot Hunter in the back of the head with a squirt can full of it, realization sank in. This wasn't a literal war. Yet.
Then he panicked and counted the girls again. One, two….
Dread filled him and, slowly, he turned. Bree stood there smiling. She had to have crossed a field of broken glass and slippery floors yet made not a sound as she snuck up behind him. The smile was not a friendly one.
Three, he thought glumly.
She blasted him in the face with warm, gooey dairy product and then vanished in an instant.
He whirled, but she was gone. Bree was like that. He scowled and wiped the cheese off his face. It oozed between his fingers. Then he sheathed Savior and began to search for a real weapon.
There! An abandoned squirt bottle lying on the floor. He dove for it and sprang to his feet at Kronos's back, firearm aimed expertly at Brook, and fired at will.
She squealed and dove for cover, naught but a flash of silver. But he smirked; he'd seen yellow splatter across her shoulder.
Then Hunter charged from the side, and he found himself quite occupied.
Yellow and orange mush flew everywhere like rain in a storm. It flung up from flailing hands and splashed off bodies and made the floor treacherous. Movement and wild cries and the wails of those hit lit the air brighter than the blazing fluorescents above. There was no beat to it either; just a sloppy, instinctual struggle.
Before long, he and Kronos were surrounded. Bree swooped in from before Ethan, Hunter attacking Kronos, and Brook stealthily from the side. The raven-haired girl made a weaving pattern before him as she swiftly approached.
He frowned. That was his technique. It made up for his missing eye. Using it against him wasn't going to do any-
-Before she even got halfway there, she flung something.
It exploded in a brilliant display of golden cheese against his chest. He balked.
Water balloons filled with this stuff? How long had they been planning this?
The dry, achy thirst for revenge caught in his throat. With a wild cry he lunged forward, abandoning Kronos, and crashed into her. She yelped and slipped on the cheese, and onto the messy floor they tumbled.
He smirked and snatched three more water balloons from her hands before leaping to his feet and sprinting to a safe distance. She scowled and slipped as she tried to right herself.
Of course, Ethan was having little trouble on the slippery tile. His balance was perfect.
Nor did it help her to have cheese exploding in her face.
He laughed and let the next piece stolen artillery fly, watched it burst against her side. Furious purple eyes lifted to glare at him. He just waved and saluted mockingly.
"Nakamura!" Kronos cried, voice raised an octave in panic.
Ethan turned. While he'd attacked Bree, the other sisters had cornered the Titan. He stood between them and wall, leaning back, hands gripping the slick plaster behind him and golden eyes wide. Cheese covered his clothes and was even stuck in his hair, making the white scar jump out of his face. "Nakamura!"
Hunter smiled and poked her father with a can of cheese. "Scared?"
"Never," he snarled.
Ethan looked down at the last water balloon in his hands. When the Crooked One wanted something or ordered it, he got it. You did it. That's just what you did when the Lord of Time asked something of you.
He didn't know what to call the giddy feeling that surged through him. It was light and fast and tasted like sweet-and-sour sauce on his tongue. His fingers twitched as if he'd been on a sugar rush.
What the heck, he thought, and was unable to help the mischievous grin as he flung the balloon.
Orange-yellow cheese exploded across the Titan's face, hiding his expression from view. Brook burst into giggles. Bree let loose a single, barking laugh.
Slowly, the Crooked One raised his hands and wiped the muck from his eyes. They blazed a fiery gold unreadable to Ethan as he stared at the goop on his fingers.
Then the golden eyes locked on him.
"Uh… That's all, Folks! Bye!" Ethan yelled, and ran for the door.
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" Kronos screamed, and faster than Ethan could blink, had stolen Hunter's can and broken their unspoken laws against magic, flashing through time and crashing into him on his way out. They went sprawling and plowed into a broken table, grappling with the can between them.
"Aha!" Kronos yelled as he yanked it from Ethan's hands. The world was drowned in a swarm of yellow. He choked on the hot gunk.
From the girls, he heard more excited yells. More cheese-bombs exploded on the tables and the floor and on the Titan, causing him to yell. But Ethan could tell merely by sound that Kronos was overwhelmed; he had resorted to only his hands again, and three against one was not working for him. He wailed as another blast went off. Bree snickered. One last bomb went off, and the girls started to laugh in earnest.
Ethan gasped and wiped the cheese out of his eye. He was going to be tasting cheese for months, he was sure. And sure as heck was gonna smell like it. The yellow and orange varieties had been mixed and left him covered in a thick, warm, oozing layer of golden dairy.
Or fake dairy. He wasn't sure.
He turned to discover that he was not far from Kronos, who'd fallen just seconds after tackling him. The girls were still in the now-drowned clearing and reveling in victory. He and Kronos were secluded from them in a nice little nook surrounded by the broken tables. The Titan was pushing himself off the floor, an odd sound coming from him.
Ethan did a double take. But even as odd as the sound was coming from him, there was no mistaking it.
Laughter.
Quiet, honest, secret chuckles Ethan was positive he wasn't meant to hear. Kronos shook his head and laughed in a way he never had before. It wasn't cold or sarcastic or the kind a wolf made after a good meal. It was the kind that suggested someone had just done something so stupid it was the joke of the century.
The Crooked One raised one hand to wipe the mess off his face. As his fingers touched the cheese Ethan had left there in his intoxicated act of treachery, he sobered up, silencing the laughs and calming his shaking shoulders.
Not a moment too soon. Hunter stood above him and beamed. "I believe," she said smugly, "that we just won."
"Ha!" There it was. That sharp, sardonic tone. Kronos glared up at her daringly from where he sat on the floor. The hard look was more familiar; Ethan could feel the Titan returning to himself now. "Perhaps with such a lowly weapon as cheese. But a real war? Never. Not in this earth's lifetime."
"I don't know," she mused, offering him a hand. "I mean, if Percy got a hold of some canned cheddar…"
She was smiling at her sisters over her shoulder. Bree helped Ethan up and Brook stood between them, her soft smile on her face. Brown curls hung limp and coated with heavy yellow mess in her face.
He gazed over them twice for arms to make sure it was over before relaxing. He allowed his muscles to loosen and his breaths to finally break loose into exhausted pants. A small smile crossed his face. Not all their antics were bad, at least. Just crazy.
Kronos smiled in amusement at his daughter. "Dear child, I fear that you're mistaken. Jackson will not defeat me with cheese."
"How do you know? Maybe Olympus considers it sacred. Do Zeus and the others know that you hate it? 'Cause they might have some handy."
Kronos's smile widened into a shark's grin and he grabbed her gently under the chin, angling her face up to hers. "Daughter, do not fear. I shall not fall. And even if I could, if by some grand series of unfortunate events I returned to my banishment in Hell once more, fret not. I shall always be with you." Slowly, he released her. Golden eyes the color of the mixed cheese glinted and burned with that constant, insatiable lust. "No matter what happens, you will never be rid of me. Be sure of that."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure. Real comforting. Everybody loves a good stalker."
"You'll learn to appreciate it," Kronos said humbly. Then his tone turned sharp and crisp, and his back straightened. Orders. "Now, get a move on. You four go clean up. I expect you to look presentable come muster, understood?"
Hunter nodded and bowed her head. "Yes, Dad. Come on, guys. Let's not embarrass the poor creature further."
Kronos sighed but held back his retort as the others giggled and followed her out of the room. Like ducklings, Ethan thought. Bree straight-backed and silent on her feet. Brook frivolous and jittery, jumping up and down on her toes and wild eyes taking in every corner of the room. Hunter, tall and proud and pretty and all but perfect, even covered in cheese.
All three of them were covered in it from head to toe. It brought out the slight purple tint to Bree's dark hair. It covered the corpses of the tables and the floor like a stringy funeral blanket, or an adornment of wild yellow flowers. Gold covered the tile and crawled up the walls and drowned the stains of the other condiments. It was thick on the shattered glass of bottles and had flattened and swallowed the dying flags of surrender. It had even claimed the bodies of the things still living; the chairs fortunate enough to still be in one piece, that lonely table in the corner, the plastic containers of mustard that hadn't been busted, the three sisters, himself. Its suffocating reek filled the air.
The small world had been conquered by and bathed in gleaming gold.
oOo
Nyx: Okay. So I know it's illegal to post deleted scenes as stories. And while that is indeed what this started as, that's not what it is now. Even as a one-shot, a deleted scene would not suffice. The deleted scenes are too tied into the story and lack their own plotlines. The one-shot is a different genre entirely. So I took this idea that I had and dressed it up and did it full-out, and I must say, I'm quite proud of it. Just love the way it turned out. The only thing the deleted scene was originally was Ethan getting frisky and turning on Kronos. It quickly turned into the scene in the elevator where they discussed admitting Taylor into the Guard for several reasons (it was Bree's POV, so she could see the 'mischievous glint' in his eye foreshadowing what he does on Olympus, and it was more convenient that way, and it flowed better). To this I added a plot and concepts and the beginning – loved it – and twists and the ending that still eerily foreshadows for the Daughter of Darkness series. So, yes, it's still tied to our big Fanfic. But it's a one-shot and a story all its own. One can still understand it just fine without knowing our OCs or reading the series.
Nic: Excuse me. What is this?
Nyx: *ignoring her* I have yet to scan in the picture I plan for the cover, I think. It's one I drew a while ago but it'll work. It got blurred in my sketchbook but it adds a nice effect. It is Kronos. No, he is not missing an eye; that is the style of shading I used. First time I tried it, and I obviously failed, but oh well.
Nic: Hello. Talking to you.
Nyx: This is what happened to that scene I told you about, silly… I know I didn't tell you I was turning it into a one-shot, but…
Nic: No, not that. *holds up bag* What are these?
Nyx: …Mints…
Nic: Uh-huh. A bag of life savers.
Nyx: They're not Altoids! Believe me, they ain't Altoids!
Nic: They ain't helping you get off Altoids, either. *holds above trashcan*
Nyx: Nooooo! I need those until I can get my hands on HoH! They're my comfort food!
Nic: *sighs and hands them back* fine. Fine. I should just let you choke on those. That'll solve this problem.
Nyx: *beaming* I can't. There's a hole in the middle of life savers.
Nic: Unfortunately.