A/N~ So, first PJO/HOO fic! Background info- Gaea is a dictator, who took over the government from the Council of Zeus. Percy and his lot formed a small rebel group, and Jason and all them are in a big underground network of rebels.

Main Paring: Jercy

Side Parings: SolAngelo, Pipabeth, Theyna

Disclaimer: I'm a teenager girl, not Rick Riordan. I don't own anything but the plot and whatever OCs I want to throw in there. A for sure way to tell: his writing is awesome, I kinda suck.

There were two ways Percy could look at his day- the most important day of his life or the most depressing day he'd had since his parents were killed

The HQ was found by Gaea's men; 18 dead and the rest captured. The small rebel group had lost good men, his friends: Charlie, who had armed the group practically by himself; Selina, 'married' to one of Gaea's "giants" or what she was calling her various advisors and underlings, and main source of intell; Micheal, a brilliant doctor doing what he could for the cause, helping out after the scuffles they got themselves into; Lee, a former sniper in the army when the Council of Zeus was still in charge, disgusted by what it turned into; Castor, a restaurant owner that let the group meet in his back room (his shop was burned with his body). And so many more...

He, his best friends Grover and Annabeth, along with Thalia Grace, Clarisse La Rue and Chris Rodriguez were bruised, bleeding and broken, but they had survived. Officers in stiff, black uniforms led them in wrist shackles down the bare streets. The windows were curtained, not even a slit of light peaking through. The avenue was empty, each step and stumble, each drip of blood falling to the otherwise unblemished pavement, each uneven heartbeat could be heard echoing off of stone and brick. Percy held his head high, standing firm in his cause even in failure and soon to be extermination, but he couldn't deny his racing heartbeat or uneven, gasping breaths.

He was going to die.

It would probably be public, a form of propaganda. Or, really, just intimidation. This was a dictatorship in every form of the world.

They had just turned a corner when he first felt it, a tingling on the back of his neck making the fine hairs stand on end. He feigned a blunder in his gait to look around, and his once bright green eyes, dulled from the pain of oppression, picked through the scene but finding nothing. Though the pain of reprimanding for the fall, Percy tried to convince himself it was nothing, but the sensation of being watched didn't leave. After the time spent avoiding the authorities, he had learned to trust his gut instinct; however, this time all his brain would give him was How could it get any worse?

Again, he could have sworn that he saw a motion between the black on black, but he couldn't discern a separate shape.

As they got closer to their final destination, the pain began to fade as his final stores of adrenaline were released. If he were to be saved, his miracle needed to happen now.

And the strange part, for once in his life, he got what he asked for.

Two people emerged from the thin alleyways, assault rifles blazing. After immediately taking out three each, they made their way over to the captives. The shorter one began working on the chains while the large, burly guy stood watch over her. But that, even when she made her way to him, was not what he was starring at. A single figure had landed, probably off of a roof but seemed to have flown in to save the day, directly in front of the group. He shot the two nearest to him, but kept moving to avoid the fire. He gave a round-house kick to one in the jaw, landing sideways and easily twisting to take out another guy. The man rolled, clutching his gun to his chest, elbowing a guy on the way up and releasing lead into another. The man was blond with short cropped hair [A/N did you know that if you google images 'close cropped hair' Jason Grace is one of the recommended searches?] and piercing, calculating blue eyes. All Percy could do was stare, transfixed.

Two loud bangs in quick succession were heard behind him, and he hit the ground and tugged at the girl's(who he could now tell, was, in fact, a dark skinned female with exquisite golden eyes) wrist to do so too. She simply laughed and shouldered her gun, moving to stand next to the buff male she had arrived with. While this was happening, four more shots were heard and then followed by two more.

The dead quite was eerie after the fire fight that had just taken place. When he was sure the danger had past, he slowly rose to face the source of the many gunshots. A man in a black trench coat walked towards the now much smaller group, two pistols hanging limply at his side. "I should really have Leo get me a couple silencers, less chance of the suits noticing you and shooting at you." The sharp angles of the blonde's face contorted into worry as he rushed to the mystery guy. "Ghost King! Were you hit?"

"It's just a flesh wound. I'll be fine, help the captives. They're much worse off." The girl was clearly containing a panic, but moved to help Grover up. The blonde seemed to be more reluctant to leave "ghost king", but he was pushed away as the mysterious ghost king helped Annabeth to her feet. "Tempest. I am fine. Go help that kid-yeah, the one who is looking kinda confused- is bleeding from three different spots so catch him before he passes out from blood loss!"

As Percy watched their interactions, he felt something akin to jealousy rise from the pit of his stomach. He barley knew this 'tempest'! He hadn't noticed until it was pointed out, but he was feeling a bit light headed so when "Tempest" ducked under his arm, he was very willing to lean on him.

And damn, if he was handsome from a distance, he was smoking hot up close.

Okay, so I was really excited about this and wrote the first 4 pages in one sitting(yes, there is another chapter done), but now I'm a little lost. Please review with suggestions/requests/feedback, or at least tell me if you want me to continue.