Disclaimer: I don't own anything belonging to Rick Riordan, even though I don't personally understand the idea of 'owning' things, as everything is made up of the same basic atoms and no particular thing differentiates this bench from that bench, and money is only an idea, anyway.

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Previously: The two walked together to side of the river before parting ways, Nico for his place and Percy for his.

Percy had plans to make, and a lot to consider. He brushed his hands along the pen in his pocket, a safety blanket of sorts.

.

"Gods!" Percy exclaimed, dropping Riptide again. He was slashing at nothing—slashing at air, not even hitting anything, and he was still running out of steam. He was used to having another arm for balance, to help offset the sudden changes in weight as he swung the heavy sword. Without it his equilibrium was off, and he had to drop the sword or risk falling on it. he shook out his wrist and snatched up the well-worn handle again, pulling it around into his field of vision.

He'd had this sword for so long. He had fought the Minotaur with this sword, taken his first lessons with Luke with this sword. He took it—and his natural skill at sword fighting—for granted. Even when he had been out of practice, like when he'd been at school for nine months and hadn't practiced, he'd still been better than most. He wasn't like Annabeth or Nico, he wasn't strategy—he was a warrior, a hero, at heart.

Not being able work his sword without fear of hurting himself took that away, and he was left grasping.

He glared at the sword.

"Why can't you just work, huh?" He demanded from it. As predicted, it didn't answer.

Percy swiped his upper arm over his forehead to keep sweat from dripping into his eyes. It seemed his power over water didn't extend to sweat, because it wasn't listening to him.

Percy sat down and stuck the sword pommel between his knees, so that he could use his hand to set the cap on the tip of the blade, turning it back into a ballpoint pen. It had taken him a while to figure out how to do that. Uncapping had been even harder, because he was hesitant to pull off the cap with his teeth and have a freaking huge blade pop up right next to his mouth. He didn't need a surprise tonsillectomy.

Pen safely put away, Percy made a beeline for Nico's house. As it was mid-afternoon, Nico would be sleeping. The guy had weird sleep patterns, Percy had noticed. He would get up early, head off to some room in Hades' palace, get back at noon, sleep for a few hours, get back up, go back to Hades', go to bed early, get up in the middle of the night for a few hours, go back to sleep and start the cycle all over again.

For the past few nights Nico had dropped in at Percy's in the middle of the night, and spent the last part sharing a bed before leaving for work. Percy still had nightmares, but Nico woke him the couple of times they got really bad. He returned the favor the one time Nico had woken him with his thrashing and struggling. Percy had been struck in the side with a flailing arm and had heard Nico begging for something, and he had called Nico's name while shaking his arm until Nico woke up, gasping. They didn't speak of it, just as they didn't speak of when Nico stopped Percy from continuing through his nightmares.

"Nico." Percy tucked Riptide in his pocket and stretched out a hand to touch Nico's shoulder. Percy had noticed that Nico always slept like this: curled up around his own self, one arm tucked under his head and the other clutching one of his knives, the Stygian Iron one. He was like a lithe, scared kitty in a batman shirt. Percy pulled his hand back slightly when Nico flinched at his touch, but went back and placed his palm on Nico's shoulder and shook him. He stepped back quickly to avoid a knife to the gut. Nico almost came up swinging, but stopped the blade and growled at Percy.

Seriously, he growled, like a bear.

"Sorry." Percy said, quite unapologetically. "When do you want to leave?"

Nico flopped back down onto the mattress, winced, and pulled the other knife, his bone one, out from under his pillow.

"Give me few minutes, to pack." He ran a hand back through his shaggy hair and his mouth stretched open in a yawn, teeth flashing. Percy nodded and pushed Nico's legs over a foot so he could sit down on the bed. Nico got up and set his swords next to Percy, giving him a 'touch them and die' look. As if Percy wanted to grab those sharp death-sticks.

Nico packed a few pairs of jeans and shirts in a backpack he pulled out from under his bed. He threw a towel on top, and threw in a skull off his bookshelf, as an afterthought. He plucked a thin, elastic-y harness off a hook on the wall while Percy watched him curiously. The harness went over the thinner boy's head and snapped to his jeans in front on the left and back on the right, like half a pair of suspenders. Nico grabbed his swords and stacked them together, white on black, and slid them into the harness behind his right shoulder. He would have reach behind his head to grab them, like an archer reaching for a quiver, but they were easily accessible while being out of the way. Percy was impressed; he had never taken much time to consider how people whose swords didn't turn into pens had to carry theirs around.

"What do mortals see?" Percy asked Nico, who had started to pack the smaller pockets on his back with little bottles and packages.

"I think they look like tennis rackets most of the time. Once, I think it was a flute."

"Hm." Percy responded, eyeing the long weapons. "When did you start fighting with two?"

"I've been able to use two for a while. It wasn't until we got back from the second war that I switched over almost entirely."

"Where'd you get the other sword?"

Nico shrugged. "I made it. It was a monster's leg bone, originally—after I killed it, the bone was left as a trophy."

Percy nodded. He was familiar with the trophies that monster's left behind when you killed them.

"I took the bone, carved it out, and made myself another sword. Before that I had practiced with other's swords, but…" he touched the stark white handle, "It's not the same."

Percy nodded again. He knew the feeling, that irreplaceable feeling of having your own sword, a weapon you can use and use well. It's kind of, 'Even if I have no home, no hope, no food and no sleep, I have this. It's mine.'

It's a form of pride.

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They set off twenty minutes later, both carrying backpacks and walking upriver, heading towards the easiest spot for Nico to shadow-travel them both out of the Underworld. Apparently it's minutely harder for Nico to shadow-travel out of the Underworld than to just shadow-travel in one plane to another place on that plane. Even that minute bit of energy is something Percy would rather Nico have, because his own battle-field skills are going through the wringer. At one point of the river that looks the same as every other spot to Percy, Nico told him to stop, curled a hand around his upper arm, and Percy dissolved into the darkness.

They reappeared on one of the tables, in the dining pavilion, at Camp Half-Blood. Percy gingerly lifted his foot out of the plate of a pudgy boy who looked shell-shocked.

Eyes everywhere were fixed on him and Nico, Percy scanned the crowd for a familiar face, Nico stared back at their stares, unintelligible and unreadable. For a moment, Percy was rocked with the sheer impossibility of it all—

These were new kids. He didn't know most of them, had never had to fight with them. Chances were they went on quests; they battled it out in the sword-fighting area. Until recently Percy taught them, like Chiron had asked him to, but he hadn't paid much attention to their names and faces.

All these kids had lost things, like he had, but they were happy and laughing and—had he not been standing on a table in the middle of the room—would have been munching their way through dinner.

Or lunch. He wasn't really sure of the time.

"PERCY!" A voice yelled from the edge of the room. He whipped his head over there and Nico, belatedly, released his arm. A girl in an overlarge shirt and scribbled-on leggings made her way through the sea of faces and chairs.

"Rachel." Percy breathed out, relieved at having found someone he knew.

She stood next to the table he was standing on and offered a hand to help him down. Rather than risking the treacherous climb down the side and the murderously-glaring kids, he walked down the length of the table and slipped off the end. Rachel met him at the end, with Nico, who had presumably risked the benches and campers.

Rachel reached out as if to grab his arm and steer him out, but only met air and then ribs. She flushed, spreading pink meeting the roots of her red hair, which she had put into cornrows.

"Come on, let's go to my place!" She said brightly, bouncing back quickly. She started walking down, past the cabins. She turned around and started walking backwards, looking over Percy and then Nico.

"You couldn't have picked a better place to pop in, could you?" She ribbed Nico good-naturedly.

Nico rubbed the back of his neck as if embarrassed, but smiled charmingly at her. She shook her head, seeing a lost cause.

Her cave was the least cave-ish cave Percy had ever seen. Sadly, he had seen a lot of caves in his days, and this one topped them all. He'd spent a lot of time hiding out in here between the lessons he gave, bunkered down with Rachel and Annabeth, even after they'd broken up.

Rachel had cable and an awesome DVD collection, foosball, Ping-Pong, and ice hockey tables, and a fridge that magically replicated drinks.

Nico whistled when he stepped inside. "This is a nice place." He said, eyeing the walls appreciatively.

"Thanks." Rachel said absently. She sat down on the sofa and turned on Percy. "What are you doing here?"

"I need a quest." Percy was determined to not let Rachel bully him into lying low for a while. Sure enough, the next ten minutes where comprised of her attempting to convince him to relax for a while, and him adamantly refusing.

"How long have you known me?" He argued. "I need a quest; I need to be helping in order to heal." Rachel still looked doubtful. "Nico, back me up here."

"He's too used to being on a quest—he has enough things to acclimate to without cutting him off from them." Nico applied some biased logic to the discussion, waving his hand at Percy's arm.

Rachel grimaced. It seemed she was coming around to the idea. Before she said so, she fixed her eyes on Nico and narrowed them. She opened her mouth once and closed it again.

"Nico, I don't think you get a say in 'healthy healing processes." She said cuttingly. Nico winced, as if she struck him.

"Wait, what?" Percy was lost. "Is this about his swim in the Avalon?"

"Acheron." Nico corrected, at the same time Rachel exclaimed "He told you?"

"It's no big deal." Percy looked at the two of them. Rachel was looking hard at Percy, and Nico wasn't meeting his eyes. "Is it?"

"No." Nico insisted.

"Yes," Rachel countered, "How much have you told him?" She turned on Nico, tilting her body in his direction.

"Enough."

"What are you two talking about?" Percy demanded. He felt like he was hearing one half of a phone conversation, and he couldn't fill in the blanks.

"Nothing." They both insisted in unison.

"That's not suspicious." Percy muttered sarcastically. "Do I get a quest already?"

Rachel looked torn, eying her hands at her lap. "Yes." She decided. She grabbed a notebook out from between the couch cushions and handed it to Percy with a pen. He balanced the notebook on his lap so he could write with his hand. Rachel leaned back, closed her emerald eyes, and opened her mouth.

The hair on the back of Percy's neck stood up and he shuddered, and then shuddered again when green mist started winding through the room, coalescing on the couch, on his shoes, on the table. A croaky voice filled the room.

"Three shall see fear and see fear bereft,

Two shall find the lost crown, and one shall be left.

One will see reward and one will see pain,

And three shall unite to lose it again."

Percy barely got it all down, and he was pretty sure most of the words were misspelled (thanks, Dad, for the dyslexia), but he got most of it written.

"That was weird." Nico commented.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Rachel said with a smirk, and the tension in the room dissipated. Percy could breathe freely again. Admittedly, he hadn't known what the two were bumping heads over, but he hadn't liked it.

He set the pen down and used his hand to toss the notebook onto the table. All three of them closed in on the table and peered down at it.

"What's this word?" Rachel pointed one finger at a scribble on the lined paper.

"Uh, I think it's 'reward'."

"That's what I heard." Nico said. Percy repeated the prophecy a few times in his head, ripped off the sheet and stuffed it into his pocket.

"There's no point musing over it for too long." Rachel murmured. She reached over and pulled the sheet out of Percy's jean pocket, folded it properly, and slid it back in.

"It sounds like we need a third member." Percy pointed out.

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"You're. Kidding. Me." Thalia had been hard to track down, harder to contact, and Percy knew the real challenge of getting her to come with them wasn't even near the end.

"We need you." Nico piped up, from the floor of her tent. Wherever they were, it was cold. Nico had worn himself out getting him and Percy there, and was now stretched out on the ground, watching Thalia and Percy talking above his head. The way his eyes drooped, Percy guessed he was about to nod off.

"Why?" She questioned, yet again.

That was something even Percy wasn't sure about. He didn't fully understand why he needed her on his team: maybe because he needed someone he knew, maybe because it was fitting.

"All three of us," he chirped brightly, waving his arm around, "the children of the Big Three, on a quest together!"

"What even is this quest? You have a prophecy, great. I'm not taking a break from hunting for no good reason."

"We have an idea." Percy offered tentatively. He flicked his eyes to Nico, who had fallen asleep.

"You do realize I'm a hunter now, not a camper." Thalia said coldly. She was wearing a white shirt and white cargo pants, had a bow over her shoulder, and had tucked her short hair into a bandana under a tiara.

"That doesn't matter." Percy had checked with others before leaving camp. It didn't matter if you were a hunter, camper, satyr, whatever—all that mattered was that you had a tie to the magical world, and were part god. Thalia fit the bill.

Thalia folded her arms and stared at Percy. He didn't understand the emotion he saw in her eyes.

It was a mix of fear, pity, acceptance, and something else that was harder-edged. It was intimidating.

Thalia broke eye contact first, exhaling hard and rubbing her eyes.

"I'll go, Percy. I'm in." She said. He pumped a fist in the air exuberantly.

"Great. Thanks, Thalia."

"Tell me what the prophecy."

"Three shall see fear and see fear bereft, two shall find the lost crown, and one shall be left. One will see reward and one will see pain, and three shall unite to lose it again." He recited. He had recited it to himself a hundred times before, racking his brains, and he thought he understood part of it.

Thalia wrinkled her nose. "That sounds troubling, Percy. It sounds like only one of us is going to make it out unharmed."

"I noticed." Percy said quietly. In truth, he had learned not to dwell on those things. People were lost on quests, even those that didn't mention it in the prophecy. It was unavoidable, unpredictable, and unescapable.

Thalia nodded. "Tell me what you think you've figured out."

Percy filled her in on what he had come up with that far.

He had talked to Chiron in an Iris-message, and while communication had been difficult (The "How are you doings" were especially turbulent), Percy had gathered something was gone.

Phobos, the god of fear, had lost something valuable. Percy remembered Phobos, faintly, from a quest he had gone on a long time ago with Clarisse. The guy was a jerk of extreme proportions. Phobos wouldn't tell Chiron what was missing; he wanted a couple of demigods. Chiron hadn't sent anyone yet, because no one had volunteered. After the wars volunteers had become rarer.

'Three shall see fear and see fear bereft.'

Percy, Thalia, and Nico were going to see Phobos, the god of fear, who had lost something. It would be amusing to see Phobos in a state of distress. Percy wasn't sure if deriving feelings of happiness from other's distress was a bad sign, and didn't really care.

"When can you be ready to go?" Percy asked Thalia.

"Give me a couple of hours, before we embark."

"Sure thing."

He could wait a few hours.

.

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Author's Note: An explanation is in order.

This chapter was supposed to be longer, but it was TOO long, so I've cut it in half. The other half will be given tomorrow.

Also, Thalia! Let me know what you think about this, and feel free to give me some prompts for things you'd like to see. They may show up.

As always, guys, enjoy the weather and don't get killed before the next update, I need you. Cool things will appear next chapter, like the break-down I promised, and a 'discussion' about what Nico and Rachel were hinting at.

Tobi.