A/N: Welcome to chapter two, you lovely demigods! Let's get to it!

Warnings: minor language

This was the third night in a row. The third night Annabeth had promised she'd be home, but had never showed. Percy couldn't say he was surprised at this point. They'd finally moved to New Rome and settled into their own place. It was mostly quiet, with the exception of a few unruly kids, who ran around the neighborhood, causing a ruckus every now and again. Percy didn't mind it at all. But Annabeth often said she had trouble concentrating with all the noise.

That wasn't the reason she was away though. It was Olympus. It was always Olympus. Ever since she'd been tasked with rebuilding the place, she'd been obsessed- granted she had to take a break from her obsession to handle that pesky prophecy of seven. Once that was over though, she was right back to it. Day and night, she'd be drawing out plans. Recently, she decided she needed to go back to New York so she could oversee the projects herself.

Of course, Percy protested. There was no reason she had to be there. She was only tasked with designing the place, not building it. But she was so proud of her work that she just had to be there to make sure everything was constructed exactly the way she'd imagined it.

It was so frustrating. The two of them had finally settled down. Percy had hopes that they could just be a normal couple now. But almost immediately, Annabeth ditched him.

It was only a few hours ago that Percy had spoken to his stubborn girlfriend via Iris message. He was almost beginning to think that she was avoiding him on purpose. Before she left for Manhattan, the two of them got into a pretty massive argument.

Annabeth was insisting she had to leave. Percy practically begged her to stay. He'd had a particular thought on his mind for weeks, but he couldn't bring himself to mention it to Annabeth. But he thought now was as good a time as any; maybe it would make her want to stay.

It wasn't nearly as romantic as he had imagined it, but he was desperate. So, as she was packing up her things, he asked her if she wanted to get married. She stared at him, mouth agape, eyes wide. Percy's heart was racing. He wanted nothing more than to just be a normal couple. To have a semi-normal life with someone he loved. That was his dream.

It wasn't Annabeth's dream. She'd gladly admit that she loved Percy and that she did want to be with him. But she had other aspirations too. Ones that would require her attention almost as much as Percy did. She had so many plans for her future that she couldn't be bothered to even think about committing herself to any one of them, not even Percy. It just wasn't in her nature. Sure, she could've handled the situation better, but she was a little too shocked when Percy's question hit her ears.

Instead of explain herself to him, she did possibly the most hurtful thing she could've done; she dismissed him. She told Percy that she didn't have time for this. She wasn't trying to break his heart, not at all. But being emotionally sensitive wasn't her strong suit, and break his heart she did.

He couldn't help but get defensive. After all the long nights she'd spent working, what gave her the right to say she didn't have time for him? The shouting got so loud that Percy noticed his neighbors turning on their lights, they must have woken them up. Eventually, Annabeth threw her hands up in the air, in pure frustration, picked up her bags and stormed out of the house.

Several days passed, neither of them willing to apologize. A part of Percy wanted to send her a message, if nothing else to make sure she made it to New York in one piece. But every time he thought about Annabeth, he remembered the hurtful things she said and couldn't face her.

Finally, he couldn't take the worry anymore and he sent her a message. They managed to talk it out. For whatever reason, Percy apologized first- even though he knew he hadn't actually done anything wrong. Annabeth finally relented and apologized as well. She explained herself, but it didn't exactly stave the aching in Percy's heart. He had always thought he meant more to her than her work. . . only now was he realizing he was competing with it. And that he was losing to it.

He sent her an Iris message every night, just to check in. The last three nights, Annabeth had told him that she'd be home the next morning. She'd have a new excuse every night for why she couldn't make it back. This morning would be the fourth, and Percy had given up hope. In fact, he wasn't looking forward to going back to eating awkward dinners together at the table; Annabeth still going over her plans or double-checking something in her head. He didn't miss trying to talk to her and seeing in her eyes that she was a million miles away from him. Eating alone was much less heart breaking.

He settled into bed, wondering if this was his life now. Surely things would get better. He'd just have to tough it out until then. He closed his eyes and was asleep within minutes.

Percy awoke surrounded by pure black water, swirling angrily around him. It was the Styx, he'd remember that numbing pain anywhere. He was 15 again, as he was the first time he took a dip in that abysmal river. Much like he did back then, he struggled to grip the shoreline and pull himself up out of the water.

Once he finally managed to claw his way onto the pitch black beach, his whole body was ablaze with adrenaline. He could feel his newfound invulnerability surging in his veins. However, when he looked at the landscape before him, it was altogether different from how he remembered it.

Instead of an army of dead soldiers, Percy found himself facing only his traveling companion; Nico di Angelo. The son of Hades stood about fifteen feet from Percy, wearing a look of absolute terror, as the entire Underworld began to rumble.

Nico began to yell, though Percy didn't hear any sound escape his throat. It seemed like he was screaming Percy's name, as he reached out for him. Percy felt a shadow descending upon him from above. He threw his head back to see what was creating it.

Too late, did he realize that a massive stalactite had fallen from the Underworld's cavernous ceiling. He knew that his invulnerability should protect him from severe injury, but the sight of the colossal wedge-shaped, obsidian only about a yard from his face filled his heart with fear.

He began to roll out of its path, but it was far too close. It hit him all the same, knocking him down onto his back. Percy expected the rock to lose its momentum and topple over onto its side; but instead, it came down upon him with such force that its sharp tip pierced the demigod's chest.

It was certainly a sight to behold; the invulnerable son of Poseidon, pinned to the ground by a twelve ton dagger, bleeding all over the black sand beneath him. It had punctured him straight through the heart. He couldn't believe how badly it hurt. . . you'd think after all the trouble he had gone through to get the curse of Achilles, that he wouldn't be susceptible to so much pain.

Within seconds, Nico was at his side. Percy still couldn't hear him, though he seemed to still be screaming. He was kneeling down beside Percy, his brown eyes brimming with tears. Percy gazed into those soulful coffee irises, trying to drown out the pain.

It wasn't working. In only a few seconds, he began to feel himself growing colder. The curse of Achilles didn't seem to be protecting him- he was dying. The black of the Underworld grew darker and darker, until all he could see was Nico's pallid face, tearfully calling out to him. Soon, that too faded into darkness.

Percy awoke with a start. 'What in the actual Hades was that about,' he thought, as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to calm his shaken nerves. He'd had bad dreams plenty of times. Most of the time, they were visions of things that were happening or had yet to happen. Those were the kinds of bad dreams he was used to. Normal "what the fuck did that mean?" nightmares were a little less common for him.

Before he could analyze his dream further, he realized that the ceiling he had been staring at wasn't his own. He jolted out of bed, still in his pajamas and ready for a fight. Immediately, he noted that he wasn't in his bedroom. Nor was he in his house.

He was standing in a bedroom; but it was not at all familiar to the son of Poseidon. It had been decorated in shades of brown and red- not the cool, steely blue that he had painted his and Annabeth's bedroom.

He reached into the back pocket of his pajama pants and was relieved to discover that riptide was still resting peacefully where he had left it- still in pen form. He fished it out but kept it capped. He wasn't sure where he was or how he got there- but he didn't want to scare the homeowners unless he absolutely had to.

He glanced out the window. Outside, he saw a perfect picture of suburbia. Rows and rows of houses, mostly different in design but all immaculate. Each lawn was freshly cut and early morning sprinklers spritzed, creating rainbows of dew that twinkled in the yellow beams of sunlight. This wasn't New Rome. This wasn't even California. Percy's heart began to race with panic.

He ran out into the second floor hallway and bolted down the stairs. He had expected to find a Stepford-esqe family eating breakfast at the table, but he didn't. In fact, it seemed like the house was completely empty. He went around checking all the rooms, just to be sure.

As he thought, he found no one. It seemed to Percy like the house was lived in, if only because there was furniture in every room and food in the refrigerator. There were even clothes tucked away in the dressers and closets in the bedrooms. What the house seemed to lack, however, were any personal belongings; posters, photographs, tax forms, anything of the sort. If anyone did live here, they were the most impersonal, boring people on the planet.

Percy couldn't be bothered to care much about that though- this whole scenario wasn't smelling right to him. He could already feel the knot growing in his chest, the same one he got whenever he knew something bad was about to happen.

With the speed of Arion, he ran out of the house and into the street. Aside from the sprinklers sputtering away, the whole block was eerily quiet. Percy took a good look in every direction, still trying to glean where he was. There were street signs at the end of each block but they weren't especially helpful.

He took off down the street, still in his pajamas, hoping he'd run into a main road or an actual person he could talk to. The sun was at about ten o'clock, Percy noted. He was a little surprised he managed to sleep so late in the first place- let alone how he managed to do it while being teleported to some suburb in whatever creepy North Eastern town this was.

He felt silly, running down a suburban street at ten in the morning in his pajamas. And he had no shoes to top it all off. He must've looked completely insane. But, his hands were a little tied this time. Whoever brought him here didn't have the decency to at least give him his street clothes to wear.

He had run about five blocks before he noticed something that stopped him dead in his tracks; the house he'd come out of. There it was, just on his left. He knew it was the same one because he had left the front door wide open in his haste to get out. The same bright red front door, still open, revealing the very same impersonal living room he had come from.

That was impossible. . . he had been running in a straight line down the street. He hadn't turned or veered off track. There was no way he could have gone around in a circle. He looked around at the neighboring houses and was able to recognize some of them as ones he'd seen earlier. This was definitely the same suburb he'd come from.

So he tried a different direction. But after about five blocks, he found himself right back at the same house; it's bright crimson door mocking him.

Out of breath and in a panicked rage, Percy marched up to the front door of a neighboring house. He knocked as loudly as he could. No one answered. So he knocked again. Still no answer. Finally, his impatience and fear got the better of him and he kicked the door in. Immediately he realized he hadn't needed to kick it- the lock wasn't latched.

He searched the house, but found it to be just as empty as the one he'd woken up in. There were no family photos hanging on the walls in this house either. Nothing that would give you any idea who lived in the house.

Percy went to a few other houses on the block, each time finding that the doors were all unlocked and they were all completely empty. This entire neighborhood was completely abandoned. No one could get in and, perhaps more importantly; Percy wouldn't be leaving. At least, that's what he figured the god that trapped him here was banking on.

There was no other way to explain this outrageously ludicrous situation. It just had to be a god. And when Percy figured out which one it was, he'd have more than a few things to say to them.

A/N: Expect some of these chapters to be kind of short, guys. Some will be longer, depending on the content. Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review & favourite if you enjoyed it!