Chapter Two: One-sided car chases with the Minotaur.

Chiron was his Latin teacher; Charon would want a pay raise from Hades for some Italian suits. Oh and Cerberus liked red rubber balls better than sticks though that info wouldn't be found in Cambridge's Guide to Greek Mythology aka the textbook (the only textbook despite exam day nearing) Percy was studying.

[\]

"Percy," Grover says as he shakes Percy's shoulder. Percy squinted daggers at him as he woke up to the awful smell of rotten eggs. In the corner of his eye Percy noted passengers starting to make their way off the bus.

Groggily he uncurled himself from his bus seat as Grover watched their surroundings nervously. Before everything Percy had thought Grover was afraid of bullies or someone going to rob them. Now Percy knows why his friend's bladder is going to act out. Monsters and gods were unfortunately real and oh did they love to give half bloods a series of unfortunate deaths or quests. Quests that usually have gruesome near death experiences. In a way, it was nice to know there are Greek gods and monsters out there, because Percy could someone to blame and dream about punching their godly (cough Hera or cough) face when things go wrong.

"Hey Percy," Grover said as they waited in line to get off the overheated bus. "I want you take this." There was a pause as Grover tried to find a way to properly phrase what he was about to say. "In case you need me this summer."

Percy only glanced at the card that Grover handed to him. He didn't even attempt to read since he knew what it said (or rather it was Camp Half-Blood location and rarely used phone number) and it's fancy script would try to murder his tired eyes.

"Thanks," Percy managed to sleepily mumble without yawning. "You know," he paused so he could look at his friend's eyes, "if you ever need help I'll be there. Summer or any other time in the year."

Grover cracked a nervous smile as they went down the steps of the bus. Fresh air greeting them as they stepped out onto the country road. A country road you wouldn't really notice except for if you broke down at it. There was nothing really scenic about the place if you didn't count the weird looking red flowers. Percy's eyebrows furrowed for a moment only to relax a second later. While there was something about them, something Percy felt he should know, they weren't important.

The only thing about this place that stood out, the thing that made the hair on the back of Percy's neck stand up, was three old ladies knitting under a maple tree. Except they weren't really three old ladies knitting a singular sock for Big Foot. Well they were but they weren't. Old ladies that is. Not the Big Foot part. It's complicated and deadly even if it wasn't Percy's life the Fates were going to cut before his tired eyes.

They each had their own name. The Fates of course had names but they were more known as the Fates and Percy didn't know their names. Probably a good thing, Percy realized grimly as Grover finally noticed them and tensed up. Names were powerful things, Percy thought as his thumb lightly traced his palm where a symbol (that later Percy had learnt was the Eye of Horus) had been drawn on. (The only reason Percy had learnt so was because Death was his favorite out of The Endless from Sandman.)

The ADHD part of Percy despite the seriousness of situation before him couldn't help but wonder Carter would still be able to meet him. Or if even he was whatever the Egyptian equivalent for demi-gods were during this time.

The Fate not holding the yarn (the string - life) and not knitting pulled out a large (as in Donkey Kong should be comfortable in using them) pair of gold and silver scissors. Then what Percy was seeing and what was making Grover's blood drain from his face simply flickered on and off. Like an old lightbulb at a cheap gas station bathroom.

Instead of three old woman in worn bleached cotton dresses, they were wearing what might as well be their bed sheets that had been bleached because no bed sheets were that naturally white. It simple wasn't natural. It wasn't a toga, Percy noted as thumb stopped tracing his palm and instead it's nail begun to sigh into his palm. Percy could recall the togas the female praetors had worn and whatever the Fates were wearing it wasn't that. There probably a book out there or Percy could google about Greek and Roman togas that weren't togas and 'what are they called?'

But like the 'How To Interact With Greek Gods and Not Being Turned Into Stag Or Something Equally Terrible For Dummies' (or something along that lines) Percy had never cared to find out.

No longer was a Fate holding a pair of giant scissors, in it's place were a pair of old fashion and still giant shears. She and her sisters' eyes were trained on Percy as she cut the golden string that once been electric blue yarn. Percy could swear he could hear the snip of the shears.

Grover made a sound as though someone had made him into a satyr skewer. (Percy felt pretty much the same.)

[\]

The fire burned brightly in the night. It's warmth wasn't comforting as the smell of burning wood and flesh filled Percy's nostrils. While he didn't gag Percy felt sick to his stomach at once again having to smell burning flesh. Percy had witnessed many pyres after the Battle of New York. He had hoped he never have to smell it again despite the odds being against him; despite being a demi-god.

Sometimes, though Percy would never voice it, those pyres were what filled his nightmares instead of his memories of Tartarus.

The woman besides him pulled on her hair. Her fingers wrapped in the brunette locks, yanking harshly on them and Percy winced because that had to hurt, She was muttering to herself. Percy couldn't hear her though. She spoke too soft compared to the cackle of the fire before them. The fire that did nothing to comfort Percy from the cold of night.

Suddenly warm arms wrapped around him. A familiar shade of frizzy red hair fell right into his eyesight as his friend leaned on him, arms still tightly hugging him. The scent of wet paint was there but it wasn't strong enough to bloke the smell of burnt flesh that made Percy's tongue feel heavy in his mouth. Oddly enough there was no paint on Rachel's tan arms. There was only the familiar sight of dried blood caked on her arms. Percy frowned. He opened his mouth but his tongue was too heavy to move much less ask what happened. While Rachel could more than defend herself (she threw a plastic hairbrush at Kronos, something that still to this day made Percy smile even if it was just a small smile) but that didn't mean Percy wouldn't worried for her.

She leaned into his ear, lips cold enough to be dead. Her fingers wrapped around some of the strands of his hair - when did they get in his hair? His heart felt like a rabbit's as she tugged on his hair. Percy over the years had been an unwilling companion of pain so he didn't let out a harsh breathe in protest.

The smell of flesh seemed to be stronger and Percy tasted butter popcorn. Rachel's lips parted and-

Percy woke up.

There was a spoon being dragged out of his mouth; his mouth tasted of buttery popcorn. Ambrosia, Percy realized. The familiar sight of the camp's infirmary and the too-bright-for-Percy's-liking light bulb greeted Percy as he wearily squinted open his eyes. It was the sight of Annabeth smirking down at him as she gathered another spoonful that kept Percy from clamping his eyes shut. Percy's eyes were suddenly wet at a familiar, but not because Annabeth infront of him was so young, sight before him. His chest felt heavy like an elephant was on it. Or he was once again holding up the sky only this time he was stupidly doing so with his chest.

Annabeth shoved the spoon the spoon into his mouth - open up for the train, Percy couldn't help but deliriously think - even as he shook his head. No- he had to-

His mouth tasted like the ashes of the dead, of burnt corpses that Percy had been a witness to too many, instead of buttery popcorn he rarely got to eat at the movies when he went. (Because snacks and drinks cost almost, if not more than, as much as the tickets.)

Annabeth's dark grey eyes reminded him of cat's as they narrowed down on him before glancing at his shoulder. Annabeth shook her head with pursed lips. Her golden curls swung around a little at the movement since they weren't in a ponytail.

Quietly, as though she wasn't suppose to be here, she whispered, "What will happen at the summer solstice? Why are you here you idoit?"

Curiosity burned in her eyes. Percy, despite being groggy from just waking up, was glad that was the only part of Annabeth that was burning.

"Tell Grover not to go back. I don't want the horn," Percy slipped back into Morpheus' arms; no goth teenager and her ankh greeted him. He didn't know how to feel about that as he dreamt of reading comics. Of every so often glancing up at the growing pile of library books with a soft smile. Oh yeah. Annabeth was going to end up using his card to rent some of those books. Percy, despite his teasing he'd given Annabeth earlier that day, didn't mind.

[\]

"Do you think I'm a good person?"

Most people wouldn't ask their mom that as they go down aisles looking for m&ms since they already found apples. ("Tell me what you saw. Tell me that they weren't looking at you.")

His Mom glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she held a box of chamomile tea in her tiny hands. (Snip.)

Percy blinked suddenly he could have sworn-

His red hoodie. Percy's fingers twitched as they grazed the right pocket of his jeans. She had his read hoodie in her hands but that was wrong. Percy hadn't worn his hoodie to the only grocery store near Montauk. Heonlywornit-thrownit onwhenhismomhadaonesidedcarracewiththeminotaur. ("Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Oh, I thought it was sheeptar," Percy joked, his attempt at humor wasted since no one in the car, sadly, got his joke. Was this how Hannibal felt? Percy couldn't help but wonder as they were having an one sided car chase with the minotaur.)

The lights. The lights kept flickering and Percy was tired. That was it. People had crazy thoughts when they didn't sleep. After picking up three bags of m&ms Percy put them in the buggy along with the apples and book about all the monuments and other architectural stuff in America. As he made his way back to the one of the previous aisles, Percy mouth suddenly felt like all his teeth hurt. Like a scorpion had nested in it.

"Percy I think you're-" his mom started to answer only for Percy to wake up to having his shoulder shook. Grover was kneeling so he could look Percy in his eyes.

"Percy," he said with nervous eyes and empty hands. "you gotta wake up. You gotta tell me where you got that tattoo."

"I'm not a pawn," somehow Percy managed to mutter out despite the heaviness of his tongue. The dryness of his mouth and the dull pain of each of his teeth. "I'm not Cassandra."

"You can't be a Roman," Grover told him - no pleaded in a fearful tone with eyes that could put a kicked puppy to shame.

A/N:

"Dreams like a podcast, Downloading truth in my ears. They tell me cool stuff."

"Apollo?" I guess, because I figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad.

He put his finger to his lips. "I'm incognito. Call me Fred."

"A god named Fred?"

[\]

For those who don't know who Cassandra is I'll explain. Cassandra was a princess of Troy (sometimes a priestess of Apollo, myths differ like comics) who was very beautiful. One version says Apollo made a deal with her: she have sex with him and he'll give her the gift of prophecy. She went back on the deal and he spit in her mouth so when she did have a prophecy no one would believe her not even her family.

Other version: In an attempt to woo (Is it still wooing if it's just for sex?) Cassandra Apollo gave her the gift of prophecy but when she rejected him he cursed her to never be believed by anyone.

So poor Cassandra knew everything about the Trojan War before it happened. She warned her brother Paris not to do it. Even got her other brother, who also had the gift of prophecy, to help her warn Paris 'hoe don't do it.'

Paris did it ('Oh gods. Please gods have mercy on us Paris did it.'). She warned Troy about the Trojan horse. Even went to destroy it herself only to be stopped. (Can you imagine Odyssey being 0.0 as he heard that Cassandra seen through the trick of the Trojan horse?) She later was raped by Ajax the lesser in Athena's temple and murdered by the King's (who kidnaps her as his concubine) wife and the man who the Queen was having an affair with. So yeah poor Cassandra indeed.

Also, yes this chapter was written ambiguous on purpose.