SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't read Lost Hero, don't read this. This gives away a main idea of the Heroes Olympus series. I'll explain (later) as best as I can, but do yourself a favor and just read the book. It helps both of us- you get what I'm talking about, and I get your feedback when I'm inaccurate in some way. It's a win-win situation! Lot less AN in this chap. Mostly story. Five pages altogether! 2,379 words! (before any editing on the site). This is a huge accomplishment for me. Last chapter was like two pages and I feel like half of it was AN. Not this time! I think I'm being too nice to you. Two chapters in one month? This won't happen often. Make the most of it (while you can!)


I couldn't get to sleep that night.

What had happened to my teacher kept bugging me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't get the idea out of my head that it was my fault. Completely crazy, but some part of me was just absolutely sure. That part of me made doubt impossible and kept the logical part of my brain quiet. It was like when the class idiot won't let the smartest kid in class put his two cents in. Even when the logical part of me spoke up, that crazy part of me just did not want to hear it.

It was the part of me that had formed when that weird psychopath killed my mother.

Today, I'm not sure if it formed that day or if it had always been there. I'm not sure which one would be weirder.

The next morning I got up and asked my aunt if she could take me to the hospital to visit my teacher. That crazy little piece of me was talking to me. It whispered You'll find your answers there. It's really hard to describe. It's like a gut feeling that has too much influence over the rest of you. It gets the rest of your gut to agree with it, and you can't ignore it. The only problem with its message was that I only had one question. I wanted reassurance that it wasn't me. I wanted to prove my gut wrong, as crazy as it sounds.

I wanted to know what had really happened.

When I asked Auntie this, she just looked at me and sighed. "Yes, if you get ready in five minutes." She then picked up the phone and called school. "My nephew Mark Olks isn't going to be in today…"

I climbed the stairs like a mountain goat and ran into my room. Three minutes later I was fully dressed and wolfing down a bagel. One thing I had learned about my aunt over the years is that she doesn't mess around with deadlines. When she says five minutes she means five minutes. If you're late she will leave without you. Some people think this is harsh, but it prepared me well for life in both camp and the army…

It was a little early to be visiting anyone in the hospital, but the staff knew Aunt Tina too well. She took the cases of a lot of people who ended up here. They probably assumed I was here to take notes or something like that. No way. I am not going to be a lawyer. Never. I've seen the paperwork Aunt's had to do and I will never have that much free time.

Mrs. Milroy was in room 164. She had a broken arm, a broken leg, two cracked ribs, a fractured pelvis, and a small piece of shrapnel in her skull. She also had some first-degree burns where her seatbelt had been. Nasty impact, I guess. The other guy got off better, the doctor told my aunt. Lots of blood, but no internal problems. Maybe she was taking Mrs. Milroy's case. I wouldn't be surprised. I think she said something about that the other night- not that my sleep-deprived brain would be able to remember.

My teacher was lying down on a hospital bed, wrapped up in a lot of white gauze. Plaster covered her right leg and arm. There was a long white strip of cloth wrapped around her head. Her curly, deep brown hair was down, carelessly strewn about. Her right leg was elevated off the bed. Her right arm was positioned in a way that I didn't think could be comfortable. Then again, she probably couldn't feel it. Nevertheless, she smiled when she saw me, then winced. "Mark?" she croaked. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi," I said, slowly entering the room. "How are you feeling?" I knew she didn't have any family, and I wanted to be there for her. She hadn't mentioned any in class, and I figured if she had any, they would be there. I hoped anyway. I had learned a long time ago that family doesn't always care. That psycho who called himself my father had taught me that. I unconsciously walked toward her, dragging my feet. Mind over body/matter is one thing, but gut over mind? That's weird.

"I've felt better," she said. Her voice was really soft. I could hear it, but I had a feeling the adults couldn't. Then I noticed that the doctor and my aunt hadn't even entered the room. They were discussing something in low voices- insurance, probably. I couldn't tell. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. It kinda makes me sick; the way adults talk about each other-even in front of one another. They were looking at this from a purely business point of view, I was sure of it.

"How are you feeling?" my aunt asked in her soft, caring voice as she walked into the room. I was the only one in the room-maybe in the world- who could resist her "business voice." She used it on all her clients, in order to make them feel special. I knew her other side, the screaming woman the lawyer had created. Stressful job? Maybe. Or maybe she just likes to scream. I then realized I would never truly understand her. Maybe it was because she lost her twins Heather and Jack when they were my age, almost seven years ago. I would never know. She wasn't the type of person to share feelings (with anyone). She never got married. Her job was her life, but I wondered if her kids had once replaced it. I wondered if she had forcefully attached herself to her job because she had nowhere else to turn; no other outlet to escape the pain.

I jolted myself out of my thoughts. Funny, it had seemed like five years since Aunt Tina had asked her stupid question. Of course Mrs. Milroy wasn't feeling okay; who would, given the situation? I wanted to shout at Auntie. I just asked her that! I thought angrily. Plus, I knew that we both knew it was a stupid question, even though she hadn't even heard me ask it in the first place. I was learning quickly that small talk in intensive care was either A) a bad idea B) really awkward C) a dumb way to make time pass. I learn irrelevant things quickly, it takes time for important things to sink in. But that's just me.

The doctor walked briskly past my aunt and me. He checked the little heart monitor on my teacher's bedside table. "Everything seems to be normal internally," he said with relief. "You've been awake for three hours straight now. Could you please tell us what you can? Miss Olks has been hired as your lawyer, and needs to know everything to defend your case."

"Case?" my teacher frowned. "But… what? Why?"

"Mr. Kalin, the man in the other car, is suing. Claims it was your fault, that you ran into him," Aunt Tina said this with no emotion at all, all business. No business voice. Just her office voice. Emotionless, indifferent. Uncaring. She tried to use it when someone talked to her about Mother, Heather, or Jack. But I could see through the cracks in it. I doubted anyone else could, or even cared enough to try. She always pushed people away who tried to help her personal life. "I need to know what happened. In order to win this case, I need a solid defense. The basis of that would be your testimony. You're too weak to appear in court as of yet, and the trial is one week from now."

"One week!" Mrs. Milroy processed slowly. "Why is Mark here?"

Auntie looked at me expectantly. I knew she could tell I didn't want to say anything. I also knew she didn't care. It's not like she didn't care about my happiness. She was trying to prepare me for adulthood, in the only way she knew how. She wanted to train me to be indifferent. To stop caring when it will only cause you pain. It's a good lesson, but people rarely learn it. Because once you learn it, you become just another nameless soldier willing to die for any cause important enough for your superiors to put you in that situation. One of the many, one of the few.

One of the Legion.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," I said, looking her full in the face. I let my emotions show on my face- just the sort of thing Auntie had been teaching me not to do. Aunt Tina leads by example. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure that's my leading style as well. Weird. Fear and compassion dominated my features, with a little anger somehow working its way in there. I always had some anger on my face though, so this was unsurprising, to me at least.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "It's kind of hard to remember. Some parts I just don't want to remember…." Mrs. Milroy trailed off uncertainly. Auntie and the doctor nodded encouragingly. I let curiosity find its way across my face.

Encouraged, my teacher began her tale. "It was about six thirty in the morning. I had to get there early to get my math tests ready. Suddenly I smelled alcohol. I had been at a party the night before and had taken a few drinks…. but I suddenly had a hangover. I passed out with the headache. I remember squealing tires and an impossible impact. Then… pain. Blackness, too. But mostly pain."

"So you were drinking," my aunt frowned. The doctor looked confused.

"There was no alcohol in your system on the record…" The doctor ran out of the room to go check his records.

"The weird thing is, I didn't have that much. At the very most I had about cup. Nothing that would have impacted my driving, especially the morning after….."

Mrs. Milroy and Aunt Tina were obviously off in their own worlds, wondering what could have caused this. Meanwhile, I was off in mine, only half paying attention to what was going on around me.

I had nothing to do with that, okay! It's impossible. Like I could have something to do with alcohol….

Maybe it's not alcohol.

What are you saying?

I'm a part of you, aren't I? I think you know what I'm saying.

That what? It was me? I controlled her because she was drinking?

Do you have any better ideas?

Yes, actually.

Like what?

Well…..

That's what I thought.

You thought nothing! I'm the one with the brain here!

You know it was at least partially your fault. You are in denial.

"Am not!" I realized I had spoken aloud, and had startled the two women out of their reveries. They looked at me like I was crazy.

Stupid voice.


I don't know what it's really called, so I'm sticking with an idea that lots of other writers on FF have used when referencing it. Probably find out the real name of it in Son of Neptune. Yeah, Mark keeps going off inside his head. I'm trying to help you people understand him. Might not be doing the best job, but I'm making a conscious effort here. This is my longest chapter ever. I've included lots of details- without overloading it. My opinion, of course! Don't judge me.

Maybe that important revelation about his aunt is misplaced. Foreshadowing with that, you can guess what will happen next. Hangover? Where did that come from? Am I (obviously) hinting at who his father is? How does the Lost Hero fit into all of this? Such important questions! Some have already been answered, however subtly. Some will be answered next chapter. Some, of course, will not. This ain't no one shot, kids. It's not all going to happen at once. Wouldn't be much of a story if it did. No offense to one-shots at all. Some of them are very good. I'm planning to write one soon anyway. It will be a large change. One chapter story instead of a _ chapter one? I'm looking forward to it. (I write this thing one chapter at a time, so I have no idea how long it will end up. Right now, my best guess is around twenty. But again, I have honestly no clue.) I use my "Upcoming" bits to remind myself what I'm doing- if I leave something out that I promised to include just tell me. I forget a lot of things. We'll definitely see- unless, you know, I stop writing it for some odd reason. Not planning on that any time soon, though.) Also, any grammar mistakes- tell me, but I will keep some. At this point, this is a ten-year-old's story (currently) told from him who-knows-how-many years later, with, of course, a few reflections from his older/future self. He's not getting much schooling in either, from where I'm planning now. But one chapter at a time guys, one chapter at a time. Though, I do plan to have a special update for Christmas…. and I just ruined your Christmas present. Wonderful. It may not be a surprise any more, but it should be a good next chapter. I'll do my best.

Mark (inside head, thinking to himself)

Controlling, crazy, irrational gut feeling (what should I name it? It needs a name! Review and send in name! Thank you!)