Greeks

"Damn it, Annabeth, hurry!" Thalia shouted, the wind whipping her frizzy hair across her distraught face. A strand or two entered her mouth, and she spat it out in disgust. It tasted like stale pizza, which was unsurprising, given that it was all they had managed to forage in the past few weeks.

"It's not me!" Annabeth scowled. "Grover's gone." Luke nodded in the affirmative from where he was running beside her.

"Well, where is he? I swear, if he stopped to get a tin can from the trash again…." Thalia left the threat hanging in the air. Suddenly, a roar bellowed out in the distance, and a look of panic struck across Thalia's face. "Jason!" she screamed, fear seeping into her voice. "My brother, where is he?"

Annabeth furrowed her brows and started to answer, but before she could, a pained shriek erupted some ways back, and the aforementioned boy himself came flying up, tugging a furry behind by its hooves.

"Sorry," he panted heavily. "Cyclops." He managed an uncertain smile, "Please don't ask."

Luke gave a half-smirk at his almost-twin. "You're telling me all about it lat—"

"No time to waste!" Annabeth interjected, sprinting to catch up with Thalia's fast pace. "Come on!"

Suddenly, out of the blue, a hellhound bounded up in front of the group, teeth bared and drool flying. Thalia let out a squeal that she will later deny to have ever left her lips. "...damn." she cursed.

"Whatever," she grimaced and took a swipe at the slobber on her upper sleeve, "Annabeth, and the rest of you slobs! We'll have to dodge this bad boy!"

"Or," Jason suggested, "we initiate the plan me and Grover just thought up." Thalia rolled her eyes acquiescently.

Grover bleated, "You thought up!" At the same time Annabeth corrected, "Grover and I."

Jason ignored both comments and grabbed Grover's hands to fling him forward.

"You ready?" Jason grinned, before promptly swinging the terrified satyr.

Luke raised a hand to his forehead and whistled. "Would you look at that, Hercules?"

Airborne, Grover floundered and released an unmanly cry, before scrambling over to the nearest tree. Rather, the only tree existing on the hill the demigods were currently scaling. The hellhound licked its lips and got ready to pounce.

Grover yelled, "You owe me for this, twice."

Jason murmured absentmindedly, "Yeah, I'll sacrifice a sheep or two in your honor," ignoring Grover's horrified screech.

At that moment, the monster jumped, and Jason shot forward, parting Thalia's hair with the force of the wind. He grabbed Grover by his arms, and the two got out of the way just before the heavy impact. The hellhound, unable to change its collision course, charged into the tree, causing the thick splinter of ancient wood and the tremble of the hill from its very base.

Black hair, sharp fangs, and piercing eyes then disintegrated into golden dust, fluttering gently on the dark green lawn.

A low rumble came from behind, and Thalia turned around just in time to see the other monsters advancing on them. "Shoot! Shake that awestruck look, Luke! We need to scram!" She then started towards the camp, but not after witnessing Annabeth grab the dumbstruck Luke by the hand and pulling him along. Before her, she could see Jason and Grover fly towards the safer areas, albeit unsteadily, with a kind of uncertainty that sent shudders down her spine.

Once upon a time, three runaway demigods and an enchilada-obsessed satyr wouldn't have been able to cross the barrier and, as a result, spawned angst for the ages to come. But this time, with four demigods, one with the precious ability to fly (but not much else), they made it out more than okay.

As it were, the five kids, well, four and a full-fledged satyr, stumbled across the border and, in their triumph, face planted the soil and passed out.

Into view came a pair of smelly feet. Thalia, exhausted beyond measure, glanced up at the hard face of the rugged girl that stood before her. Then she succumbed to the darkness, but not before hearing the words that came out of the girl's mouth.

"Well, well. If it isn't the Prince and the Princess, with their entire escortee. Tell me, did you know that you just crashed a hellhound into a tree that just so happened to be the one keeping this camp monster-free?"

Throughout it all, none of the unconscious half-bloods notice the image of a thunderbolt flashing above two of their heads.

Fin.

. . . . .

Meanwhile, deep below the countless layers of bedrock, a dark figure brooded silently on his murky green Throne of Tortured Souls TM Limited Edition. It was hard to appreciate the cold comforts these days, and the FUN co. (Feed Us Now) brought up the latest tech as always. Still, the built-in cup sipper was a bit too much. Not to mention the Toenail Remover.

"Oh Zeus, how unfair of you," he sighs, crossing his legs and rolling his eyes upwards towards the pompous bastard, who rumbled the skies in response. "Snatched the golden title from Poseidon and I, stole the hearts of the people of Greece, and now… sent your precious, little, cheery children to Camp Halfblood? Outrageous!"

He snapped, bringing his clenched fist upon the armrest in a solid thud, which resulted, unfortunately, in a rather thick cloud of dust and chipped furniture. Not that things were going so well anyways. Zeus brings his clouds grumbling again in the realm above, and Hades shouts out sarcastically, "Well, sorry!"

He slouches back down, defeated. "What is the world coming to?"

Alecto piped up from in front of him, licking her lips. "Retaliate then, my lord. You, too, have children, do you not?"

"Well, yes. Yes, I do," Hades brightens noticeably, an unfamiliar light reaching his eyes. It darkens, though, as he realizes his obstructions. "But I cannot bring them now. Zeus will—"

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord," Alecto cackled, proving beyond doubt that she was the most cracked of her sisters. "But why do you think the King of the Gods brought out his children so readily?"

Hades frowned. "I'm not stupid, Alecto. I know it's because of the most recent thievery. Can't see what he's complaining about since my symbol was also…" He trailed off, a theory forming in his mind.

"Stolen?" Alecto supplied. "It would only make sense that your children honor their father by reclaiming his power, does it not? Since Lord Zeus himself is doing the same thing…"

Hades had half a notion to rub his hands together in maniacal glee, but he dismissed the idea. That could happen later, when he was in the privacy of his own room. Here, he had a reputation to uphold.

"Fetch your sisters, Alecto. We have some documents to forge."

Fin.

. . . . .

Romans

There was a lot to be said about running on the highway, especially if you're running with wolves. Or maybe it was running from wolves. In Percy's defense, he was kind of doing both. There was a strange beast-y panting coming from behind him, but Percy really didn't want to meet the Minotaur again, so he didn't bother to turn around. And even then, the wolves were nipping at his heels, though when he last checked, they were supposed to be on his side.

Pathetic.

Percy scowled at the sudden interference in his mind. It wasn't his fault! To be honest, he didn't even know what he was being scolded for!

Of course it is. Your scent.

Well that was crisp, clear, and to the point. There was an urge to scream out that this particular monster just wouldn't leave him alone but Percy resisted, mainly because he would only wind up with a mouthful of bugs. Cursing, he jumped into the next lane as a honking car came too close for comfort.

And you're slow. My pack can run at 40 miles per hour for a whole day.

Percy almost wished he could tell the smug wolf goddess to shut up, because she really wasn't helping with his concentration. For gods' sake, he was full out sprinting right now! Lupa can just shove it up her—

Grrrr.

Okay! Running! Totally running! No inappropriate thoughts here, no siree. Percy flung himself to the side as another car passed him by, the driver clearly screeching profanity. Stupid 12-year-old running on the highway! I'm late!

Where was he? Oh yeah. There was a lot to be said about someone running on the highway, but they all seem to wind up as one collective thought: You're flipping crazy, mate.

So it was with great relief that Percy finally spotted the hill up ahead. On the other side was the camp, the hope for his future if he could just make it there in one piece! Easier said than done, Percy thought sourly, almost squealing when he felt a great gust of breath on his shoulder. The Minotaur!

With a burst of adrenaline that Percy originally thought was nonexistent, he scrambled up the hill in a mad dash. A loud roar sounded behind him, and suddenly, Percy could smell rawhide and vile trash. Gross.

At the top of the hill, Percy faced his final obstacle. There had to be a faster way down. Percy never paid attention to physics or anything like that, but he knew the Minotaur was a lot heavier than he was. As in barreling-down-the-hill kind of heavy, the kind of heavy that Percy wasn't. There was no way he could make it down first unless...Ah-ha!

Percy sent his praise to whichever god was listening at the sight of a ruddy old car door leaning on a bush. It was a little torn and bent, and Percy had no idea how it even got up there, but he wasn't going to complain.

He grimaced, looking down at steep slope he was going to sled on. He could hear Lupa's taunting laugh in the back of his head, but this was an all or nothing. Ignoring the bellowing of the mad cow and the amused barks of the pack (no doubt they were waiting for his next "Percy Idea" and wanting to see how spectacularly it failed), Percy sucked in a deep breath.

And threw himself off the cliff, car door in tow.

The thing about sledding in something that was not a sled, was that it was terrifying. Percy would have nightmares from the shrill shriek as the car door tore downhill, scraping the rocks protruding from its surface. Not to mention the glass shards that flew off and nearly poked his eye out. To make matters worse, the wind buffeted his face, and he couldn't exactly see either.

Never had he been so glad a ride was over. As summoned by his thoughts, a trumpet blew in the distance, a war cry, and Percy almost thought it sounded triumphant. It was probably just him, since, mere moments later, he found himself faced with the Roman cavalry composed of teenagers sporting full-blown armor. They were armed with weapons and towered above him in perfect formation. No doubt, Mr. Brunner would've been mighty proud.

Percy gingerly picked himself up, and gave the befuddled army a grin. "'Sup," he croaked, lifting his hand in a quick greeting, before reaching over to one of the kids. "Lemme borrow that for a sec." He grinned at the outraged protests and grabbed a shield from the unsuspecting warrior, whose jaw slacked and dropped open.

Without further ado, he swiftly blew a sharp, New-York-styled cab whistle, and watched in amusement as the brute of a Minotaur came tearing down the mountain, moo-ing its rage for all to hear.

"Catch!" he called, flinging the shield like a frisbee. He watch gleefully as the metal hit, and the Minotaur bent down to sniff at it. Then, he turned back to the phalanx, skillfully ignoring their widened eyes.

"I need to borrow a sword."

Stunned, a nearby kid numbly handed him the weapon. "Thanks, man." He gave him a little pat on the shoulder, before whipping back around to face the Minotaur.

Percy marched over to the monster, who was still puzzling over why the metal smelt like so much prey. So engrossed was it that it didn't even realize that Percy had walked up behind it, clutching the car door and the sword.

With a yell, Percy slammed the car door (which now had an opening where the window should've been) over the monster's head and kicked it onto the shield. Then the law of gravity and inertia brought the beast all the way down to the bottom, where it could be skewered by a mob of teenagers holding really pointy sticks.

The Minotaur struggled to stand up, but a combination of motion sickness and trapped-in-car-door-ness made sure it didn't get very far. Cheerfully, Percy strolled down the hill, twirling the sword in hand and whistling for good measure.

When he reached the bottom, Percy happily stabbed his newly acquired sword through the Minotaur's raging eyes, causing the large mass of fur and muscle to erupt and fade into golden dust.

With a grin, he spun around to face the dumbstruck Romans. "So." he began. "What are you fellas doing out here?"

Fin.

(A/N: Questions, Comments, Opinions or Turkeys?)