Author Note and Disclaimer: Since doing a disclaimer for every single book would be impossible; it's a lot simpler to just say that I own nothing in this fic from books, that right is reserved to the authors. As this is really my first time writing, I may accidentally switch between third person limited and third person omniscient. Also, while not an author avatar per say, Scrap is based on me (kind of a "well, duh," I know), and Arc is based on my cousin. Since some series are not completed yet, I will be changing characters as it goes, which is a bit hand-wavey. Sorry if that causes any confusion. I may put the odd comment or note to clear things up using "".

Scrapheap Chapter One – POV: Percy Jackson

A descending, writhing darkness. Shadowy shapes trailing smoke. His friends and family falling around him, dropping like flies in the face of that awful darkness. The golden rain of spilled ichor. And then a flash of light, a gleaming craft appearing from a hole in the air. Two figures beckoning him and running towards him from the craft, other figures fending off the shadowy shapes. Those were the last things Percy remembered, than unconsciousness hit.

The sensation of being in water, snatches of muttered conversations, something about a council? Annabeth's voice, Tyson's voice, and a few other unknown voices.

Darkness

There was a face coming towards Percy in the darkness. It was a very familiar face, but he couldn't place a finger on whose it was. It came closer and began speaking. Hit by the voice, Percy realized whose face it was. It was his. And the word it was saying was one Percy was very familiar with. "Annabeth."

"ANNABETH!" Percy screamed, sitting bolt upright, realizing only after a few seconds that he was in a tub-like bed filled with water. Annabeth, who had been sitting on a couch reading a book, flinched and dropped the book.

"PERCY, you're awake," Annabeth nearly shouted, and ran up to hug him, but stopped. "You okay?"

"I'm a bit tired, but other than that, yeah. What am I doing here?"

"It would probably be better if Scrap explained that." Annabeth pressed a button on the wall. "Scrap? Yeah, Percy's awake. Ok, I'll wait for you outside." Annabeth took her finger off the button. "You," she said, turning to Percy, "need to get dressed. I'll see you in a few minutes with Scrap and Arc." She then walked out the door. Percy looked bemusedly at the door, and then down at himself. All he was wearing were boxers. He looked around and saw a cabinet. A few minutes later Annabeth walked in with two other people, one male and one female. The guy had pretty normal clothes, dark blue jeans, a green shirt emblazed with the words Keep Calm and Find the Dam Snack Bar, black sneakers and a brown jacket that had odd red plastic ridges on the shoulders. The female was wearing dark blue armor coated with some sort of clear mineral. Two chained daggers hung on her belt and a trident was strapped to her back. Oddly, Percy felt the salt leave the tub of water. Annabeth was wearing her usual outfit, Yankee's cap apparently not making her invisible. Percy himself was wearing that as well, minus the cap.

"And who are you?" Percy asked, wondering why the female was holding onto her chains and why the male had Riptide. "And can I have my sword back?"

"My name is Scrap," the male said, "this is Arc, and this is a pen. Ka-ching. The movie sucked btw Before you get it back though you'll have to answer a few questions."

"Ok"

"Well then, Percy, how are you feeling?"

"I feel fine, but the last thing I remember is this darkness and everybody . . . Is everybody okay?" Percy suddenly felt as if he really needed to know.

Scrap paused before answering, as if choosing carefully what words to use. "Yes, everyone is alright. Now, Annabeth tells me that you woke up screaming her name. What woke you up after five days?"

Five days? Percy thought. Had he really been out that long? "Well," he started, remembering what had happened, "there was a face that was saying Annabeth's name, and it was my face except that it had a really long scar reaching down from its forehead to the chin."

Arc took a sharp intake of breath. Scrap looked at Percy. He handed Percy Riptide. "Welcome to the Scrapheap Percy. This is your home now. Walk with me and I'll explain."

They all walked out the door and down the hall towards an elevator. After they got out of the elevator, Scrap resumed talking.

"Welcome to the Scrapheap, a piece of junk outside of time and space and the hub of the Timeless Councils anti-Fallen strikeforce. Arc and I are the directors. Inside the Scrapheap is an infinite library, and on the outside, where we are, is a telescope, living quarters, a garage, and a bunch of other rooms. Orbiting us is a third-gen habitation sat." They came to a circular room with a podium in the middle. Arc walked over to it. "This is the projection room," Scrap continued, "Arc, show us the Intro to the Multiverse view." Instantly they were floating in a void, spheres stretching out below them in all directions forever. "This is the multiverse," Scrap said, "Each sphere is a universe, and over there is Earth Prime. There is so much creative and outer view coming off of that uni that it's become the center of the universe. In fact, someone down there is writing this on a computer. This is not 4th-wall breaking, so unfortunately I can't figure out how to get Deadpool in, I could use an idea if anyone has one If it Fell we'd all die. Speaking of Falling, out primary purpose is to halt Fallen action and save creatures from Falling unis."

"You say primary," Percy interrupted, "Is there another?"

"Yes," Scrap responded, motioning for Arc to shut down the projection, "Just a few weeks ago, we saved a version of you from a Fallen world. It was my worst mistake yet. He was driven insane by the loss of his world's Annabeth, and manipulated us. He had stolen numerous godly weapons. He killed Lockehead, the Scrapheap's actual caretaker, and Grimbeard, the Timeless security chief, stole a teleportation device, and escaped. He has killed two members of the Council, and the remaining members have issued an order to us to hunt him down, and forbade us from saving another version. I hope you don't prove us wrong in our decision to save you. Now go to sleep, in Standard time it's 11 at night. Annabeth show him to his cabin, Arc go with them."

Author Note: Hooray! That took me like 2 hours to write fully. Second chapter should get posted next Sunday; I have to go to work at a summer camp. Constructive criticism would be appreciated, as well as any advice. Ciao!