NOTE: This is an updated version of chapter one. I will update or maybe redo all the other chapters before making new chapters. These updates are not grammar or spelling updates, they are changes to the storyline that I feel will make the story better, while still keeping the basic storyline.

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first story. As I am sure you could tell from the title, this story will be about what it would have been like if Percy had been the son of a certain titan, instead of Poseidon. Please note that the rating is M for a reason. There will be graphic violence spread throughout the entire story. The first chapter will be rather dark, but after that it should lighten up a bit. Then darken once again There will be parts of this story that are pretty much fluff, and parts that are super dark. Just a warning Enjoy

Also, just a tip: * = a sort of breakage between chapters, usually representing a time where I will not describe all that happen (time skip)

Chapter 1

I had been to a variety of different orphanages, but none had been as bad as the one I was in now. The orphanage was comprised of three different small, worn out buildings: one for eating, one for official work involving adoption and stuff, and one for sleeping. Though the conditions in which we lived were filthy, that did not affect most of the people here, as they had been here for most of their lives, including me. Also, they had much worse things to worry about. The headmaster was a vile, cruel man who liked to beat me on a daily basis, just because he was drunk and didn't have anything else to do. He was rather sadistic, and I couldn't help but shudder whenever I saw his eyes focused on me. When those beady eyes looked at me I felt as though icicles were being driven through my limbs, numbing them. I was currently hiding under my bed, hoping to get away from that monster, who was on the prowl for anyone he could beat.

"Where the hell are you, you little fucker." He growled from across the dormitory room.

I retreated further under my bed, into the shadows. I could heard him stumbling around, almost certainly drunk again. A pair of worn out shoes appeared in front of my bed. My bed was lifted up and probably would've been thrown across the room if my torturer had been strong enough.

Gabe leaned down to me and said, "There you are, you little shit. You need to be taught a lesson in respect. Don't hide from your betters." He often came up with lame excuses like that for reasons to beat me.

He slapped me across the face and picked me up by the front of my shirt. He tossed me onto the ground, and as I caught a glimpse of the rest of the room, I could see that he had ruined the place in his search of me. He had done so before, and made us children clean the room. There were scrapes on the walls, dents in the ground and other markings from when he went on a rampage.

He kicked my ribs, glaring as he did so. He paused for a moment, those beady eyes seeming cloudy, as if his mind was far away. His rage seemed to grow with each second of thought, and I feared what was to come next. He lifted me up by the shirt, and it started to tear again. It always did that. The shirts we had received from this place were constantly tearing, and I am sure that they were of terrible quality.

"I wish you knew how much trouble you caused me." Gabe said in a voice that gave me chills. "You know nothing of what its like to be and adult. You have had everything done for you for your entire life." His mouth was curled in a sneer. "I have given up everything for you little shits, and what do I get in return: nothing." Gabe never said it, but I knew that Gabe was not making money running this orphanage. The small amount of money he got from donations was almost entirely used up to fund this little place, and the small amount left was spent on beer.

He punched my chest, and I gave a cry of pain, unable to stop myself. He smiled, and I knew that he could use my previous exclamation as a reason to beat me more.

"Don't be a wimp. Let me teach you how to handle pain." He said, with a cruel grin on his face. He raised his fist again, and I prepared myself for what as coming. He punched my stomach, and the air quickly flew from my lungs. I gasped for air, still in his grip. He shoved me back onto the ground. He kicked my ribs a few more times before he grunted. I could hear the disgust in his voice, and I quivered, preparing for another kick. I was surprised when it didn't come. Instead I looked up and saw him snarl before leaving the room.

My entire torso ached, though most of these beatings resulted in more mental pain than physical. The knowledge that I would never escape this hellish orphanage until I was at least 18 was a fate that made me lay awake at night, and wish that I had never been born.

I crawled to the wall, and rested my back up against it. I brought my knees to my chest and hugged them. I heard footsteps, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I laid my head in the crook between my knees and my chest, and though I couldn't see Gabe himself, I knew that he was the one in the room; I could smell his stench. It was one that repulsed me, and a scent I was way too familiar with. He smelled like alcohol, dirt and sweat and something I couldn't identify. It was a scent that the monsters in my dreams had. It was a scent that meant pain to me. A tear trickled from my eye. I had never received two beatings in one day. I raised my head, and I saw Gabe whispering. He was whispering to a young kid that looked about four years older than me, placing him at the age of 11.

In Gabe's hand there was a beer bottle, and he pointed it at the kid as he spoke to him. I could see in the kid's eyes that he was hearing something he never wanted to. Gabe spoke to every child in the orphanage the same way, angrily and as if we were nothing but an inconvenience to him. His choice of words in his portrayal of his hatred was not the most comforting either. That was the reason that every other kid was out in the yard. Gabe couldn't do anything to them in public, and they knew it. I, of course, was "banned" from going out onto the yard. I had supposedly caused trouble for Gabe; though everyone, including Gabe himself, knew that I had done nothing. However nobody would speak out against Gabe, in fear of a beating.

Gabe threw the kid into the room and left, slamming the door behind him. He looked up and seemed to notice me for the first time. He crawled to where I was and adopted the position I was in. He looked at me, and when I didn't look back he looked away. He turned and looked at me again.

"Hi." He stated simply.

I turned my head to look at the newcomer. He was short for his age, and just a bit taller than me. He had curly brown hair that twisted in an unorganized pattern. He had deep brown eyes, with just a hint of green around the edges. His nose was straight and short, and his mouth was very large, though it was sloping down in a frown. I didn't reply to his earlier comment, choosing instead to remain silent.

"Its pretty crappy here huh?" He said. I still didn't say anything. I knew better than to make friends here. I knew that they would end up getting adopted, and I would be left here, abandoned once again.

"How long have you been here?" his incessant questions were getting on my nerves.

"Is that guy always so mad?"

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" I asked. I assumed he was talking about Gabe when he said "that guy." I was too afraid to tell that Gabe was a loser who did nothing but get drunk and beat us. I knew Gabe tried to listen to what we said, especially if he suspected it concerned him. I also knew if he heard me say anything about him he would use it as an excuse to beat me once again.

He shrunk back with fear in his eyes. I felt a tinge of guilt about scaring him, but it was probably for the best.

"I'm Grover," He said.

"Percy," I said. He reached his hand out, as if asking for a handshake. He did not get one. He slowly stood up, and my eyes followed him the entire way.

"Well," Grover said, "See you around" He said. He exited the room and I nodded to his back.

***** 2 ½ Months Later

"You know that won't work Grover." I said in exasperation. Grover had been asking me questions all day, mostly about getting out of this place.

"But just imagine if it did. We could be free of this place forever." Grover was ecstatic over his new idea, however just like the dozens of other plans he had created to escape this hellhole, there was no way this plan would work.

"Well lets assume that you could pick the lock to the bedrooms, where would you go afterwards" I said.

"I could find a different orphanage, one with clean rooms, and luxury food, and the nicest headmaster you will ever find." I snorted; though Grover's dream was a nice one, just the thought of that happening was comical.

"Grover I assure you that no place like that exists." I said. Thought Grover was probably three or four years older than me, he seemed to have ideas, thoughts and motivations that you would expect a five year old to have.

"You know, you make it really hard for someone to have a dream." Grover said. I didn't have it in my heart to tell him that if he did not have dreams, then he would never feel the disappointment and pain of never fulfilling them. If you never build a tower, it can never come crashing down. Grover would never be able to make his dream become a reality. So not having one in the first place was the best option.

When Grover received no response he just sighed and looked out the window. We were sitting in the bunkhouse, staring out of one of the only two windows. I had not wanted to associate myself with Grover, however his constant pestering and hanging around me had practically forced me to talk to him. I had no one else, and if he was stupid enough to stay in here with me then I wouldn't stop him.

As we looked outside I noticed a van was slowing down right outside of our orphanage, finally coming to a stop right outside the front door to the adoption building. A man in a wheelchair slowly emerged from a door in the back of the van. He rolled up to the front door, and rang the bell.

All the kids in the yard were watching the man in the wheelchair. An adoption was possibly the most rare occurrence at this orphanage. The man slowly opened the door, almost as if he was trying to deliberately add tension to the air.

A few minutes later Gabe came out of the building the man had just entered. He had a look on his face, one I had never seen before. The man was soon to follow Gabe out of the building. Gabe walked towards the building Grover and I were currently in.

I nudged Grover, and grabbed his arm, bringing him with me as I stood up. We walked to the door, and I slowly pushed it open. Gabe didn't seem to care that I was outside, though I really shouldn't have been. He instructed us all to stand in a straight line facing the man.

He rolled pass all of us, before coming to a stop in front of Grover, who was right next to me on the end of the line. The man whispered something to Grover, so softly I couldn't make out a single word of it. Grover nodded at him, and the man seemed satisfied. He rolled his wheelchair back over to Gabe and talked to him while pointing at Grover.

Gabe nodded and I was filled with a sense of dread. It was happening once again. My only friend- Jesus, could I even call him a friend? I was cold and mean to him ever since we first met. Yet he still tried to be nice to me. And now he was being taken away. It seems that I am destined to be alone.

The man also pointed to me, and Gabe's face, for just a second, was filled with the odd mixture of joy and rage. No, there is no way the man could want to take me with him as well. I had already resigned myself to a life of being tortured by Gabe. There was no way I would just go and live with some bearded guy, when I had put so much time into this vision I had of the world. He was not going to make me throw away everything thought and dreamt about for my entire life. And though I hated this place with a burning passion, it represented all I knew about life. There was no way I was going to give up everything I had known. However the thought of living in a nice house, with real food and clothing, and a father who would tuck me in at night and promise that I would be happy, was a thought that I found very appealing.

Though I could tell Gabe felt furious about giving me up, he nodded, and he signaled for Grover and me to walk over to him. I felt as if this entire scenario was surreal.

I felt as if my legs couldn't move, but they slowly moved, walking towards Gabe. The man leaned towards me

"Hello," He said, "You will be coming home with me" I was still stunned, staring into his bearded face. "How does that sound?"

"I . . I, I" Words could not properly form in my mouth. The shock was too much. He grasped my hand and game me a warm smile, a stark difference from the drunken glares I was used to from Gabe. He told me we would leave in an hour, and walked into the building with Gabe.

***** 4 hours later

We pulled up to a large house next to a field filled with a bunch of kids doing various activities. I wondered about the surroundings but I didn't question the man, who introduced himself as Chiron. We got out of the van that we drove in, but I never saw who was driving except his blonde hair. Chiron got out of van and started rolling his wheelchair towards the big house. Grover and I followed him, and he walked around the porch till we were on the back of it.

There was a man in a Hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts and a can of Diet coke in his hand. He had curly black hair and was short and a bit fat. He had this look in his eyes, one that I recognized well; he was obviously drunk. Though how anyone could get drunk off of diet coke I knew not. I still had no idea why we were on a weird looking farm instead of a house, with a drunk diet coke drinking guy on a porch, but I suppose anything was better than the orphanage.

"Oh goody, another camper." Said the Hawaiian man.

"Now Mr. D, don't be rude. This is Percy Jackson." Chiron introduced me to the man who I figured out was Mr. D.

"Now Perseus," Mr. D said, "Do you know why you are here"

I had no idea what he was talking about, and I showed it in my answer. "I don't have any idea why I am here sir."

"Finally," Mr. D said, "Someone who shows proper respect. I like you." He told me.

"Well anyways, you are here because you are involved in the Greek gods."

I didn't know what that meant, and from the way he said it, it didn't seem like a very good thing.

"Gods, sir?"

"Yes a God, an immortal being with immense power." He seemed rather bored, as if he had experienced this before.

"But, gods do not exist." Now I could see true rage in his eyes. He was mad.

"Of course they do you ignorant little boy." His nostrils were flared in anger. "How would you feel if someone called you a myth, or said you didn't exist, huh? I doubt you would like it."

"Are you saying that you are a god?" That was certainly impossible. There was no was that this cranky drunken old man was a god.

As if he could hear my thoughts, he seemed to get angrier, and pictures of people being tortured with, grapevines, appeared in my head. Though that thought sounded weird, the images were ones that frightened me quite a bit. I looked into his eyes and I could see the raw power in them. I wasn't sure if he was quite a god, but he was certainly not a human.

"This is the Greek god Dionysus, Perseus. He is the god of wine." Chiron said.

"Anyways, put him in Cabin 11 Chiron." Mr. D said.

"Of course," Chiron said. "Would you mind giving him the tour Grover?" I had completely forgotten about Grover. But now as I looked at him, I realized that Grover didn't have an ounce of surprise in his expression. I didn't question him, but I did wonder at why he was taking this so easily.

"Of course Chiron. I would be happy to show Percy around." He smiled at me as he said it, and I was reminded of when we first met. He turned to leave the porch and I followed him, wondering what other oddities I would see on this tour.

"Come on Percy. There is plenty to see."