(A/N) Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, HOO, or any of the random books/movies/TV shows that I refer to

For Perseus, being an angel wasn't what it was cut out to be, contrary to popular belief. As a messenger angel, he had to go back and forth across Heaven and Earth and back again until his wings were sore and felt like they were going to fall off. It was a little dizzying at times and there were a multitude of occasions when he nearly got hit by planes because he was too discombobulated to concentrate. Of course, the scrolls he'd had for the sentries stationed in the mortal world, their jobs to keep an eye out for demonic activity, were very important, and Perseus didn't think getting hit by a flying metal cylinder at five hundred fifty miles per hour would be beneficial to them getting orders and information from Heaven. They were already disconnected as it is. Perseus had heard whispers, had heard the tales people told behind his back when they thought he wasn't around to hear, and most of them accused the messenger angel of being too stuck in his fantasy world, rendering him unfit to be the messenger for Archangel Michael himself.

Perseus managed to ignore the gossip most of the time, having endured rumors about him since he was a mere fledgling, but today he was in a particularly sour mood. He'd snapped at two fire angels who'd been calling him inexperienced and had stared two fledglings down until they were in tears when they'd pointed at his wings and began to blab on to their parents. Nobody could blame him for his downright foul mood, because yet another angel had gone missing from Heaven's ranks, and this time they'd been one of his closest companions. He and Nicolas had been friends since conception, really, with Perseus' mother, Sally, and Nico's mother, Maria, having been incredibly close friends. Their fathers butted heads quite a lot, but Poseidon and Hades could've been mistaken for brothers, their bond went that deep. The thought of his parents made him homesick, but they lived far away and he had so much work that he could never find the time to visit. They understood, though, and Perseus reminded himself to write a scroll to them later.

There were two sides to that problem that made Perseus downright livid. One, of course, was the fact that his blood brother was missing, but the other was that the situation had prompted the Archangels to become very chatty, and do you know what that means? More work for Perseus. Yay. What Perseus could glean from the whole thing was that Archangels had growing suspicions, considering they were sending messages back and forth across Heaven like bullets, and were trying to find a way to solve the problem without putting anyone at risk. Their rapid communication was leaving Perseus barely enough time to bring the message before he was sent back with another.

After the messenger angel's fiftieth trip across the cloudy plain, he had to stop for a break, lest he pass out mid-flight from exhaustion. Thankfully, the capital of Shamayim had been close by, and he collapsed onto the roof of the closest building he could find, uncaring of the bite of the shingles into his body. He let out a soft groan, his sides heaving, and massaged his jet-black wings, which were screaming with fatigue. Nevertheless, Perseus could trust and rely on them more than he could with most of the angels in Heaven, who were unpredictable. His wings' effort was an unyielding force that would never fail him, and Perseus couldn't deny that they were the best wings he could have ever asked for. Even if they brought him much misery as a fledgling, what with the sidelong stares and the whispers that were kept from him, they could carry Perseus for long distances without tiring.

Though the wings did have their limits, he didn't know what life would be like without them. How did humans stay rooted to the ground when the air was where the fun is? How did they walk everywhere until their feet burned and their legs cried out for rest? All of these questions remained unanswered to Perseus, but he couldn't decipher them now; he had a message to deliver back to Archangel Michael from Archangel Gabriel. He couldn't dawdle, since a matter of great importance was afoot, but just lying on this roof forever seemed like a really good idea.

"Hey, you!" Persues turned to see a very livid-looking fire angel standing outside the door, looking up at him. "Get off my roof!"

"Sorry!" he cried, putting his hands up in the air with surrender, though there was a shit-eating grin on his face. The angel's eyes widened when he saw Gabriel's seal glittering the sun, and he bowed quickly before hustling inside. Perseus wasn't a dipshit, though, and he decided to respect the man's wishes and scram. He did have places to be, after all.

With a dramatic sigh and a groan as he contemplated the terrible distance he had to fly, he launched himself into the sky, ignoring his wings' protests and relishing the feel of the wind whipping his black hair and beating against his face. With a whoop of delight he shot off faster than a bolt of lightning, making even the fastest of jet fighters make a run for their money, and the angel let out another cry of delight as he did loop-de-loops and barrel rolls until he was so discombobulated he could barely fly in a straight line. Perseus knew that there was a mortal law that you shouldn't drink and operate an automobile. In Heaven, it was against the law to drink, let alone drink and fly. He felt like he'd downed a few shots and he felt light-headed, but it wasn't from the high altitude, either.

Mortals would suffocate up here, but angels had adapted to it, on top of the fact that they were immortal. It used to feel like they were deprived of oxygen all the time, but their lungs eventually accustomed to it. He flew for a while, his joy ebbing as his entire body wailed for rest or some form of break. At least he wouldn't have to get worried about becoming fat anytime soon, with all the blue junk food that he consumed, but he'd been working for Michael since before humans were even a twinkle in God's eye, so he technically had been banned from becoming obese even prior to the word 'obese' being invented. Finally, after several hours and almost three cases where he nearly fell out of the sky like a shot duck on that Nintendo game, he was finally beginning to recognize the scenery. He nearly cried with relief when, through the clouds, the palace of Archangel Michael loomed like a giant wall, making mortal structures seem like children's toys. Perseus raised the hand with the scroll clenched inside of it and the guards, which were most likely fire angels or death angels, opened the gates for him to enter.

He could see them gawking at his jet-black wings, for they were obviously newbies that had no idea that Perseus would flay them alive if they were caught staring, so he let it slide, but only this time. The other servants would probably tell them the rules once they let their mouths wag about Perseus', well, existence. It was a shocker that they didn't know he worked here, or maybe they were just star-struck (he couldn't help but preen at that thought), because he was the only angel in kingdom of Heaven that had fully black wings. Maybe his fledglings would inherit his wing color, or his children's children, but he hadn't met any mate, male or female, that suited him quite yet, even after millennia. Of course, it was forbidden for angels to fall in love with mortals, but many of Percy's comrades had been stripped of their wings and cast from Heaven due to their lust for humans.

Perseus landed gracefully and folded his wings, which were eager for rest, behind his back. He braced himself to receive another message and sent back to Archangel Gabriel, but even the thought of another lap around Heaven, which was pretty huge, mind you, made him groan. He looked at the scroll in his hand, which was tied with a red ribbon. Curiosity and temptation urged him to read the message written on the parchment, but Perseus swatted the thoughts away. It was forbidden for messenger angels to read the messages that they were delivering, especially those from Archangels. Doing so would eventually result in falling from Heaven, which sounded pretty painful.

But Perseus had to admit that he did want to ask, but he abstained from it; it would be the ultimate form of rudeness. He knew that they were most likely discussing the disappearance of Nicolas, for Archangel Azrael had requested help that his angel be found. Most would think that there were too many angels for the Archangels to know every single one, but their memories were infinite. They knew every single angel that lived in Heaven, and cared for them all equally. Archangel Azrael had clearly been in distress, for Archangel Michael had bitten his lip when he had read it. It was unlike Archangel Azrael, the king of all the death angels, to become panicked, but he was caring for all of his workers, and when one went missing he threw a fit.

But seriously, what if the whole conversation was just like:

Sup Gabe, how's it going? -M

Nothing much Mikey –G

Will u help me look 4 this Nicolas guy? –M

Sure. #heismissing #JUSTDOINGMANLYANGELTHINGS -G

Lol. Azrael will kick ur ass if he hears dat. –M

#dealwithit –G

Search party tomorrow. Will u show? –M

Probs. –G

Gonna b dangerous. –M

#YOLO –G

What is it with u and mortal #'s? And it's YOLF: You only live forever. –M

Whatevs. Dunno why I'm using them. Just sounds cool. –G

Can u tell r bros Raphael & Uriel? They need 2 know. –M

I ain't getting my ass of dis couch. Do it urself or make ur messenger angel do it. –G

Jfc im head Archangel and I command you to tell the homies. And dude ur like the head messenger angel I hav no idea y we r making my messenger angel do dis. –M

-_- STFU -G

:D Lol. C you 8:00 –M

K (P.S Ur messenger angel is gonna b pissed when he finds out dis is why we r sending him back & forth) -G

IF he finds out. Haha. KK bye. -M

The thought of that made Perseus' blood boil. He refused to adopt human culture of any sort, as did most angels who were used to being traditional. The Archangels were the only ones to seem to slightly embrace mortal customs, which Perseus found irritating since they were the ones who were supposed to be setting examples for Heaven. As the huge golden doors that towered overhead opened, Perseus couldn't help but feel nervous around Archangel Michael; his power was only dwarfed by that of God Himself and the angel's knowledge was nearly infinite. When you work for a guy who can banish you to the depths of Hell with a snap of his fingers, you have the right to get a little antsy around them.

The doors closed behind the messenger angel with a dull thud as he began to walk, considering that flying within homes (or palaces, for that matter) was considered rude, down the long red carpet, trimmed with gold. The place was plenty big to fly in though, so large that it actually gave Perseus vertigo as he gazed around. Even after millennia, the Victorian feel of Michael's palace never failed to astound him. Technically he lived here, too, along with the servants, but this was where the magic happened, where Michael oversaw Heaven and its functions. The grand hall that opened into the throne room was stunning, the interior being an exact replica of the Notre Dame de Lyon cathedral, minus the pews. Two fountains on either side of the room depicted stone angels holding jugs, and Holy Water poured forth out of them. Incense was burning somewhere and Perseus could hear the faint sound of a choir in the background, despite the fact that he was pretty sure the place didn't have a choir.

But angels weren't just apart of Christianity, though. The linoleum was patterned with interlocking Stars of David, and there was a Torah outspread neatly on a marble altar, off to the side with a copy of the Bible and the Qur'an. The stained glass windows depicted scenes from important events in Muslim religion, with bits and pieces from the Old Testament and the Sacred Mysteries. The carpet ended at the base of a marble throne, embellished with golden leaves and animals, and perched on that throne was Archangel Michael himself. On normal days he would be lounging on it, tranquil and relaxed, but today he was poised at the edge of the seat has he waited anxiously for his messenger angel to return. When he saw Perseus his eyes lit up and he raced over, urgency woven through every fiber of his movement.

The messenger angel knelt and presented the Archangel Michael with the scroll from Archangel Gabriel.

"Thank you," he breathed and opened the scroll, reading it over carefully but quickly. Perseus couldn't help but marvel at the Archangels' beauty. Originally, Lucifer had been that most beautiful angel, God's finest creation, but since he turned corrupted and fell from Heaven, Michael had taken his place, considering he was the second eldest of all the other Archangels. Azrael didn't really count, since he had better things to do than run Heaven, such as making sure that all the expired human souls went to the places they belonged, whether it be the Pit or Paradise.

His honey blond hair curled around his ears, and his looks were equally masculine handsome as they were feminine beautiful. His eyes were a brilliant azure, the color of the sky and just as vibrant as they shimmered from the light that the stained glass windows cast on them. He was wearing silver armor and a red cape drifted around his wings, which were the biggest wings Perseus had ever seen to this day. They were as large as a bus was long, so big that they dragged behind him when he walked, but they still managed to seem proportional to the Archangel's body. Sure, Perseus loved his wings despite the hardships he'd faced because of them, but he couldn't help the twinge of jealousy low in his gut as he regarded the Archangel's feathers, which were pure white and shimmered gold in the sunlight, dazzling him with every shift and flutter.

Michael's face, however, was grave as he read yet another one of Gabriel's reply letters. The messenger didn't like to see the furrow in his brow, the lines in his normally ageless face that made him look several years older. The moment passed, and he looked up at Perseus and with a grin on his face. You could consider them friends, Archangel Michael and messenger angel Perseus, since they'd been working together before humans were even a twinkle in God's eye, and their bond ran deeper than most. They were companionable when they could manage to find the time, and considering Perseus had no other friends aside from the Archangel and a handful of his servants, which was a feat considering next to none of the angels in Heaven have ever talked to Michael, much less befriended him.

"They found him," he told Perseus lowly and rolled the scroll back up. With a flick of his wrist it disappeared into golden sparks. Perseus would've sighed in relief, except the look on Michael's face told him that this announcement wasn't a good one. His stomach sank; what if they'd found him dead, killed by demons or rogue angels? What if he'd gone rogue? What if Uriel was stripping him of his wings and casting him out of Heaven as they spoke? Perseus couldn't help the nervous fluttering of his wings, and he was pretty sure his scent was radiating nervous.

"What is it, sir? Is something wrong?" Perseus asked, and he managed to fight off the waver in his voice. Archangels barely showed their emotions when it came to handling hard situations, but Perseus could clearly see the worry lines etched into Archangel Michael's face, which was very uncharacteristic of him. He seemed more concerned about Perseus than the actual situation, which the messenger thought was sweet but at the same time very unneeded. "Should I fetch you something to drink? Perhaps something to eat?" Perseus wasn't obligated to do those things; Michael had servants to get him things if he was hungry or thirsty, but Perseus offered anyway because it was only polite. Besides, that's what friends were for.

"No, Perseus, but thank you. They did find the death angel Nicholas…" Archangel Michael's voice trailed off and he took a deep breath. "…but they found him curled in an alley with both his wings missing."

Perseus was pretty sure he was going to faint, and his heart wanted to beat out of his chest. His wings flared in aggravation and astonishment, and Michael's mirrored his. "What would commit such a horrible crime? Demons? Fallen angels?" Perseus wasn't trying to hide the anxiety in his voice this time, and he worried his lip in between his teeth to the point where it bled. Michael's brows knit with concern, but Perseus would have none of it, waving it off as the Archangel raised a hand to heal the wound. He almost immediately sobered and continued on with a professional note to his voice.

"We're currently trying to figure this out. Uriel had personally given the search party permission to communicate with the death angel, considering we're normally forbidden from communicating with the fallen, and he managed to give quite the amount of information on his attackers," Michael explained, "Nicolas claims that all of the culprits wore intricate and expensive masks, which means that they may be related to the disappearances of many other angels. He said that they wanted his wings and are therefore acquainted with the black market; he had been lured into a trap from a demon scale that he saw glittering on the ground while on patrol. It was his duty to inspect it, and he wound up caught in one of their traps." He paused for a moment, eying Perseus, "I know what you're thinking. No, you can't go talk to him. Uriel only made an exception so we can prevent others from having the same fate. He's fallen. We can have no more association with him.

"But sir, I thought fallen angels were only those who were banished to Hell for doing crimes," Perseus argued, his voice shaking. Had he been anyone else, he was pretty sure that that kind of tone would make Michael furious, but the Archangel only gave him a sympathetic look. He was well aware of the fact that Nicolas had been Perseus' closest companion, and that losing him would really taking a toll on the poor messenger angel. He was already starting to feel himself sinking into a sort of numbness that made his knees feel weak.

"Yes, but there are also those called the 'artificially fallen.' They have unintentionally lost their wings, either in an accident or, like in Nico's case, they were chopped off by someone or something other than an Archangel. Sadly, they are still considered fallen angels," Archangel explained in a melancholy tone. "It's still forbidden by law that we make contact with them. I wish I could help you, Perseus, but that would mean going against the will of God. It's my duty to follow His wishes and orders, and I certainly don't want to end up like Lucifer had."

A tear trickled down Perseus' cheek and Archangel Michael's expression turned ever more pitying, which the messenger angel certainly didn't want at the moment. "Don't worry, I don't blame you. Nobody wants to end up like Lucifer did," the messenger angel managed to choke out through gritted teeth. "Is there any lead on the…things that did this? I want their heads on my wall."

"Calm your nerves, Perseus. Make sure your wrath is contained." Perseus took several deep breaths until the fury ebbed, replaced by a cold, hard determination. The numbness was spreading through his body, down to the tips of his toes, and Michael knew that the messenger angel's wrath was only contained for the moment. It was only a matter of time until it resurfaced. "Archangel Gabriel has sent out some of his messengers and guard to try and acquire some information. So far, we are leaning towards demons. But some think that there may be mortals that know about our kind."

"May I humbly ask to be a part of those search parties, my lord?" Perseus asked. "I would like to know who did this to my comrade." Archangel Michael chewed on his lip, knowing that that wasn't the entire truth; Perseus did want to find out who did it, but only because he wanted to skin them alive. He couldn't let Perseus descend to such a level, but then again the search parties would likely kill the culprits as well. His messenger deserved to know who had severed Nicholas' wings, and he certainly would be driven to find the culprits more than any other angel in the search party. Slowly, he nodded. "Thank you, sir." With another bow Percy spread his black wings and shot out of the Archangel's quarters like a bullet.