Synopsis: Three pieces of silver, worth more together than alone. Across the united lands they travel, in search of their new home. (Pre-Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

A/N:

I'm a day late and a dollar short. It took me far too long to finally decide on what I wanted to do for this year's NaNoWriMo, but I finally settled on this! I don't know what my update schedule is going to be like with this, but I'll do my best.

I'm not entirely sure what to do for a rating either-I'm going to go with 'M' to be safe. Either way, this is largely being written for fun. Just about the only thing I'll say is that this takes place before the main series.

Reviews and comments are welcome; no flames. If you think something sucks, that's totally fine, but I'll need a little more than "This sucks." Because otherwise, your feedback will be found wanting and will be fed to Festus the dragon.

A/N (11/3/17):

I realized that the line breaks were removed from this chapter. I've added them back in, sorry for any confusion.

A/N (11/15/17): I changed the rating to 'T' instead because really nothing 'M' worth has happened yet. I guess maybe I was overthinking the rating.

Warnings: This story will contain some violence, some mention of abuse, but nothing too crazy. The tone is a little darker at points than the main series, but again nothing too crazy.

Disclaimer: I don't not own the characters or plot of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians nor the Heroes of Olympus series. I do own the original characters featured in this story; please do not use without permission, please & thank you.

Dark Olympus

Volume 1

Finding Home

Prologue

Sterling simply watched the light bulb. He'd lost track of how many days he'd spent in the small white room with its padded walls, the small square of a window, and single light bulb. He didn't have much, but he had a light, and he was happy.

Attacking the orderly really wasn't such a great idea, but the man had scared him. Big and tall...such a brutish looking thing. Sterling didn't understand how some people looked like people and how other people looked like monsters, but no one else seemed able to see the difference.

Apparently this made him insane.

Not that Sterling would argue with that—he was insane. He saw things that others didn't see, heard things that others couldn't hear. His mind was a constant buzz of activity; a hundred thousand voices all calling out for attention. They were all the same voice; his own. It wasn't like multiple personalities but more like his mind was just fractured into a thousand pieces all thinking different things at the same time. Either way, it ept him exhausted-his mind was a constant thrum of activity. He didn't sleep so much as simply pass out from sheer exhaustion.

A very small part of Sterling suspected that it was just a large conspiracy, that everyone was in on the joke and laughing at him secretly. But he knew that that wasn't the truth-he knew that he was really just not all quite there.

Still, he liked being in solitary. He didn't have to deal with the stress of being around other people. He just got to sit in the room and wait. He hardly got any sleep; the voices in his head were never silent. The only rest he got was whenever sheer exhaustion finally got the best of him. He was a mess; he wore the smallest sized uniform they had for the patients but he practically swam in the white long sleeved shirt and pants.

There was a sudden whine that cut across the static of the voices in his head. Slowly the voices hushed; they only seemed to be silent at certain times, like this. He waited as the frequency changed and the signal cleared, wincing slightly at some of the higher pitched whining of the radio signal as it adjusted.

"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?" asked the voice.

"Yes," replied Sterling, his voice flat and without affect. "Hi."

"It's been awhile since we've last spoken. I know it has, but I can never tell just how long I was gone for. What was it...ten, twenty minutes?"

"One year," replied Sterling. "One year, six months, five days, and ten hours. I lost track of the minutes and seconds."

"I'm sorry. I'm bad with time, you see. And I'm even worse with people."

"I know," replied Sterling, leaning back against the wall. "I know. I'm pretty bad with people too. I attacked someone recently." Somehow admitting it made his actions seem more concrete. He wasn't sure how long ago 'recently' was, however.

"Now why would you go and do something like that?" asked the kindly voice. It was a rough voice and deep, like a rumble, and definitely not a voice that normal people would use the word 'kindly' to describe, but the voice gave him comfort. If he had to describe it, the voice was what he would imagine tectonic plates sounded like when they rubbed against each other; a warm greeting amongst old friends in different forms. It had a sweet notion to it, even if tectonic plates rubbing against each other caused problems for so many other people. Earthquakes, volcanoes, mountains formed where the plates met...the earth shook and everything changed. Things were destroyed.

Sterling felt for the tectonic plates; did they stay apart for so long before their loneliness became unbearable and they reached out for comfort, consequences be damned? Sterling wondered if he and the voice were two separate tectonic plates, touching despite the consequences.

He wondered if the voice was the manifestation of a desire to have a father. As far as he could remember, it was just he and his mother. And his mother really didn't seem to like him much; she left him in a place like Algae Acres, after all.

"The man was secretly a rotten apple. He looked normal on the outside, but something about his core was rotten. No one else could see it...I couldn't help myself."

There was a brief burst of static. "...instincts get you in…" more static "...though you can't help your nature. I have to go soon, but your mother will be visiting you."

That made Sterling blink. "Visit?"

"Yes. She'll have a gift, for you. It doesn't make up for the time you spent here, or what you've had to endure, but it will help you, I think, in the long run. I hope you like it; some of my best…" more static that lasted for a good few minutes "...-ather angry. Bye!"

And the signal dissolved and he was left alone with his voices, again. Thunder rumbled outside and Sterling's heart stopped as he watched the light-bulb flicker helplessly before it finally continued its dim but stable glow.

He sighed with relief-he had a light and he was happy.

Kiki frowned in her sleep. Outside thunder rumbled lazily. The sound penetrated her dreams, but her mind transmuted it, turning it into an angry voice, filled with rage.

"Give it back! Return to me what is mine!"

"I cannot return what I never took in the first place!"

She whimpered in her sleep, tossing and turning, clearly wanting to wake but ensnared in the dreams that plagued her.

At the foot of her bed, a black labrador watched her, whining plaintively. She moved closer and laid her head on the teen's lap. The girl calmed down a bit.

"Such a good girl, Maera," said a soft, matronly voice. The dog looked up at the woman who reached down and petted the dog's head with gentle affection. "You'll watch over my little one, won't you?"

The dog huffed an affirmative.

"My family is so scattered...but I have hope that it won't always be like this. Until then, Kiki...rest while you can." The woman leaned down to lay a kiss on the sleeping girl's head.

"Three pieces of silver, worth more together than alone."

Raymond was regretting his decision. He knew, he knew that he should have said no. He knew that his "friends" really weren't the best influence on him, but that fact only seemed apparent when he was alone. As soon as he found himself surrounded by his friends, however, it was like his will just...left him.

He let them press him into situations that he should have questioned, but he didn't. Like, he didn't question the contents of the red cup that was passed his way.

He didn't question the acrid taste of alcohol in it, either. He didn't question the feeling of disorientation. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he realized that he was drunk and he hardly recognized any of the other kids at the party. They were also drunk and some were passed out, some were making out, and yeah...it was that kind of party.

And it wouldn't have been a fun game of 'I told you so' that he was playing with himself if the boys in blue didn't make a sudden entrance. Someone shouted "Cops!" and kids that were passed out a few moments ago sprang to their feet and he tried to join the mass exodus, but he wasn't quite so lucky.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "Raymond?!"

And to make matters even worse, that hand belonged to his father.