Do as They Do

By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, bubble drizzles, Eleos, larkgrace, it'salloxymorons, and livingondaydreams

AN: One Battle of the Labyrinth, coming right up.

This chapter's my chapter again. Wow, can you all believe it's been seven weeks since we started posting?

Time flies.

Enjoy!

-Lex

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO/HoO.

(No playlist again. Forum's gone dead, and I suck at playlists. :3)


Chapter Six: I Fight Beside a Pretty Girl

By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx


The first thought that ran through Jason's mind when all those giant monsters erupted from the ground was, Holy crap, I'm going to die today. Then, But, if I die, I'm not going down without a fight.

At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to be back at Camp Jupiter, defending his actual home. Sure, Camp Half-Blood was great and all, and he didn't want it to be destroyed, but he sure as Hades(it sounded better than Pluto, in his opinion) didn't want Camp Jupiter gone either. But, even if he was allowed to go assist his fellow Romans, by the time he reached California, the battle would probably already be over on both sides.

"Stay next to me," Chiron had said, voice full of worry, as if Jason was some little kid who needed to be taken care of. Then again, Chiron was supposedly thousands of years old. If that was true, Jason was a little kid, compared to him at least.

The Vulcan—er, Hephaestus—counselor, Charles Beckendorf, yelled, "Fire!" and two very large boulders flew through the air. A giant went down, but his friend standing next to him easily deflected the boulder with that huge shield of his. The boulder landed about fifteen feet in front of him, and the giant roared angrily, charging into battle.

The coward deep inside of Jason cried for his mommy.

A volley of arrows courtesy of the Apollo Cabin hit many of the giants in their armor. Sometimes, they vaporized on the spot, but most of the time, the monsters merely yanked them out of their skin or armor, looking extremely annoyed.

Jason looked around; none of the foot soldiers had charged yet, but the giants seemed to be overwhelmed by the boulders and arrows that were flying towards them. The battle didn't seem nearly as bad, until…

…out came about thirty or forty snake-looking women—dracanae, he recalled—wearing full armor, and wielding spears and nets. They took off in all different directions, and the infantry ran out to meet them in battle, carefully avoiding the traps and such that had been set. However, the monsters weren't so lucky. Several of them were blown up by the traps; one got stuck on a spike and was easily killed; others were engulfed by Greek fire from pulling a wire. Jason had to hand it to the Greeks—they were pretty good at setting up hidden tricks like the ones he observed right now.

He continued to watch silently, sword unsheathed, just in case some attacked. That pretty blonde girl—Annabeth, he had learned—fought the monsters valiantly, slashing and hacking anything ugly that came in her way. Of course, that didn't include that Cyclops they had brought with them. Speaking of "Tyson," he was currently piggy-backing a giant, and well, it looked hilarious. The Cyclops was beating the giant on the head with his bronze shield—BONG! BONG! BONG!

Next to him, Chiron was calmly shooting arrow after arrow and hitting most of his targets. Nothing came at the pair, and Jason almost wondered if he was actually going to get to fight when a group of satyrs fighting a couple of huge hellhounds caught his eye. Chiron yelled, "Go!" and Jason nodded, running off.

Monsters, beware, he thought with a slightly crazy grin, Jason Grace is back.


Annabeth Chase wasn't a fan of fighting other demigods. Not at all.

Maybe it was that she was getting too "soft," as Clarisse had stated. Or, maybe, it was because she actually knew and remembered most of these traitor demigods—she had seen them all at camp before. After all, she had been going to camp since she was seven. She had virtually seen everything from this generation of heroes. Seeing some of them convert to the dark side… it wasn't fun.

And, as much as her brain told her not to, she had to spare the poor demigods' lives. It hurt to kill a fellow demigod, especially if she had personally known them. It just hurt to actually see them fighting against her, against their own kin. So, much like Percy used to do, she spared any of the demigods' lives that came across her path, usually snarling a threat along the lines of, "If you want to live, I suggest you get the Hades out of here," and they would scramble off, and begin fighting someone else, if they were able to.

"What's the matter?" the half-blood she was currently fighting taunted. His blue eyes were barely visible through the large helmet that covered his head. He couldn't have been more than thirteen years old, and he reminded her of Percy, when he first tried on his armor.

Almost everything reminded her of Percy.

"The great Annabeth Chase can't defeat me?" he added with a grunt, pushing her sword back. Sweat lined Annabeth's head, and with a push, the kid fell back onto his bottom.

"What's the matter?" she mocked, brushing away a piece of her hair. The kid glared up at her. "Did the great Annabeth Chase just kick your butt? Sorry." She smiled mock-sweetly, and, using the hilt of her knife, she knocked the kid unconscious.

She turned, ready to run and fight a few more monsters, when she was stopped short by a tall girl with blonde hair and piercing gray eyes. One of her sisters.

"Hi, Annie," the girl sneered. "Remember me?"


Life sucked sometimes, to say the least.

At the moment, Connor was getting his ass kicked by one of his former friends—Ethan Nakamura. Gods, he remembered the day Ethan came to camp. He was a pretty cool kid—fun to be around and nice enough. And, like any new kid, he was crammed into the Hermes Cabin, which gave Connor the perfect opportunity to bond with the new guy. Turns out, they were around the same age(Ethan was a couple of months older than Connor), and they began spending a lot of time together.

For a short while, Connor managed to stop being around Travis, which was something that his brother apparently had wanted for a long time. Ethan became his new pranking partner, and they were best friends. It was pretty awesome, if you asked him.

But, after a half of a year at being at camp, Ethan hadn't been claimed, and to say the least, he was getting a bit bitter. Those six months turned into eight months. Then, ten, and then, a year. The year slowly progressed into two years, and still, Ethan hadn't been claimed. He became bitter, and stopped hanging around Connor. Good, because the son of Hermes didn't think he could stand all the angst and "woe is my life" crap that came from Ethan.

It was the first day of the third year of Ethan being at camp that he disappeared. He'd been claimed the prior night—by Nemesis, goddess of revenge—and, well, he wasn't happy at all. That was the last Connor ever saw of Ethan.

Until today.

"Well, Connor?" Ethan spat as their swords met again. "I bet you're beginning to regret not picking Kronos."

Connor gritted his teeth, pushing forward. Ethan only retaliated, pushing down harder on his sword, and pushing Connor closer to the ground. Still, he hissed, "I regret nothing, you traitor."

Ethan's lips curled into a smirk beneath the helmet, and using the trick that Luke had taught him, he disarmed Connor, then shoved the other teen to the ground.

"How did you…" Connor stammered as he backed up from the sword in Ethan's hands, "only Luke… and… Percy can…"

Ethan chuckled. "Just one of the tricks I picked up from Luke," he said casually, grinning down at Connor. "Wanna see another?"

Before Connor could react, a searing pain shot up and down his left arm, and he cried out in pain as Ethan's sword—or maybe it was his own—was removed from his shoulder. Waves of burning agony racked through his arm, and he shuddered, curling back in pain.

"'Wasn't… much… of… a trick," he choked out.

Ethan smiled down at him. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet, Stoll."


Jason wasn't sure when, but somehow, hundreds of undead soldiers had popped out from the ground and began fighting the Titan army. It was pretty cool… yet extremely creepy. But, in a good way, you know? It worked to their advantage, so, hey, he wasn't complaining.

Oh, yeah, that, and he managed to get back to back with Annabeth Chase somewhere during the battle too. It was pretty good having Annabeth watching your back(literally) because she was a demon on the battlefield. Monsters fell before her, and demigods lay motionless at her feet. Gods, he hoped they weren't actually dead. He would never wish that on a person.

"So, uh, Annabeth, is it?" Jason said, as he cut through another monster. It probably wasn't a good time to talk, but that didn't stop Jason.

Annabeth kicked one of the monsters down, panting heavily. "Yeah," she said. "Though, now's not a good time to talk."

"Right. Um… I'm Jason," he said lamely.

"Pleased to meet you. Can we continue this conversation later?"

"Um, sure."

"ANNABETH!" A scream emitted from one of the demigods, and Annabeth's head whipped up. Jason's did too, which was probably stupid, since he should've been paying attention. His eyes found the source of the scream; a now crushed Athena command tent, where a large dragon… scorpion… thing was attacking and defeating many campers.

Annabeth cursed in Latin, and Jason briefly wondered where she learned the dead language, as she was a graecus, not a Roman. Before he could ask or anything, she stabbed the monster she was fighting, then ran towards the monster.

"Nice talking to you," Jason muttered, before he too ran, knowing that she would probably need his help.

The only thought that was running through his mind was, Well, if I die, I'll at least die fighting alongside a pretty girl.


Black. That's all he could see, hear, and feel right now. Oh yeah, and pain. Extreme, burning pain. Pain that covered a big part of his body, and threatened to rip him apart. Terrible pain.

He was barely aware of his surroundings; all he knew was that there was a battle raging around him, and that he was currently being tortured by his former best friend. His head spun, and he felt like he was going to throw up, then pass out. Still, the pain kept coming. One minute, it would be on his face. The next, his stomach. Then, maybe his arms or legs. It was everywhere, and he couldn't escape it.

The pain cut him to the core, and all he was desperately holding onto now was the thought that, if he died, he wouldn't get the chance to kill the little bastard that had done this to him. He had to survive. He just had to.

"Oh, is poor Connie hurting?" A groan escaped his lips as the sword cut through his face. Sticky drops of blood dripped down onto his already dirty, torn clothes. Ethan laughed. "You know, Stoll, you're more pathetic than I thought you were."

Pressure on his already bruised ribs. Pressure from a boot that kept pushing down further and further, threatening to snap the bones like a twig. Before today, Connor had never expected Ethan to be this strong. But, he sure as Hades was, and Connor was experiencing that strength right now.

"Give up," whispered the son of Nemesis. His voice was cold and merciless. "You're as good as dead."

More pressure, followed by a slice at his chest. The blood dripped onto the grass, surely staining it red. It felt like he couldn't breath—like he was underwater and couldn't resurface. The never-ending darkness called out to him, offering relief from the pain. His head spun, and with another groan, Connor's head slumped to the side wearily.

The last thought before he slipped into unconsciousness was, I hope you're happy, Ethan.


Being crushed by some mutant monster thing wasn't exactly something Jason wanted to do everyday. Still, here he was, struggling beneath that… thing's forelegs, trying to free himself in vain. Annabeth was next to him, stuck in a similar situation. His eyes stung from the poisonous gases that filled the air. He wanted to throw up.

In short, this monster was kicking his ass.

Jason nearly went cross-eyed from all the snakes at slithered above his head. The monster—gods, why couldn't he remember her name?—raised her two swords, one over Jason, the other over Annabeth, a cruel smiling tugging at her lips. Jason knew that he and Annabeth were… well, pretty much out of options. The best thing to do now was be thankful he was dying next to a pretty girl, and pray that his soul made it to the good part of the Underworld. So much for being the prophecy child.

Then, something howled, and a wall of darkness rammed into the monster, sending her(er… it?) flying. Jason stood up shakily, eyes widening. There, fighting against the monster, was yet another monster—a hellhound.

He raised his sword to run and fight, but Annabeth stopped him. "Wait," she said. "She's friendly. Promise."

He stared at her incredulously, but decided not to question her word. After all, children of Miner—Athena—usually were right, and it probably wasn't a good idea to doubt her.

"Good girl!" a voice called. Jason looked up to see an old man—well, not too terribly old—fighting his way through the entrance of the Labyrinth. He frowned. Wait, if the enemy was coming out of the Labyrinth, and this man was fighting the enemy… Well, it didn't make much sense.

Oh yeah, and, that was only half of it. Another giant—much bigger than the ones he had just fought—with at least a hundred arms was picking up boulders and chucking them at the enemy.

"Briares!" Tyson's voice was filled with relieved joy.

The giant smiled down at the Cyclops, and called back, "Stand firm, little brother!" before sending another round of boulders through the air, right towards the monster. With a quick leap, the hellhound jumped out of the way, and dust flew everywhere as the boulder impacted with the ground. Once Jason could properly see again, he realized that the monster he and Annabeth were just fighting had been squashed by all the boulders.

A cheer arose from the campers, and Jason felt relieved. The battle was nearly over.

But the enemies weren't done yet, apparently.

One of the dracanae yelled, "Ssssslay them! Kill them all or Kronossss will flay you alive!"

If Jason had been on the opposing side… well, he probably would've gotten his sorry podex off of the ground, and fought like Pluto.

The giants stumbled forward, clubs in hand, and looking much more scared than they had during the beginning of the battle. Jason glanced towards Annabeth to see what she was going to do, but she merely stood there, soaking everything in. A tear slid down her cheek, but he pretended not to see that.

Then, a horrible, extremely loud sound spread over the entire camp.

Automatically, Jason's hands went to his ears, but he could still hear the scream—a sound of pure fear. He searched around desperately to locate the source of the sound and shut it up, only to find that it was coming from the satyr Annabeth had returned with. Grover, Jason thought.

"Look," Annabeth whispered, pointing in the direction of the entrance the monsters had all come in.

The entire army was desperately scrambling back inside of the Labyrinth. The dracanae were being trampled by the giants, as were a few of the enemy demigods. Once the army was gone, the tunnel rumbled shut.

The battle was over.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Jason turned to Annabeth. "So… I guess we should go help the wounded, huh?"

Her gray eyes searched over the camp, and Jason began to realize that nearly the entire camp fell under the category of 'wounded'. Then, without answering Jason, she ran over to Chiron.

"'Sure, Jason,'" he muttered in a bad impression of Annabeth, "'let's go help the wounded. Great idea.'" Here his voice returned to normal, "Well, thanks, Annabeth!"

Eventually, Jason too made it to Chiron's side, where Annabeth was saying, "You need help. I'll get a medic from the Apollo Cabin."

"No," Chiron said firmly. "There are more serious injuries to attend to… Go! I will be fine." Annabeth sighed as Chiron turned his attention to Grover.

"You okay?" Jason placed his arm on her shoulder. She didn't shrug it off.

"There have been too many lives lost," was all she muttered. "Too many." Jason couldn't help but shake the feeling that she might be talking about the prophecy child before him… Percy Jackson. Had the two been friends?

Before being able to respond, Jason was once again left alone, because Annabeth was running towards Tyson, and a small, black-haired boy that lay still on the ground. The grass around him was yellow and rotting. It was disgusting.

Jason sighed as he stared at the camp; bodies lay everywhere, some dead, others not. Blood stained the green grass, and the camp was pretty much wrecked. He couldn't help but wonder if Camp Jupiter had more success than Camp Half-Blood had.

Because, while they had won the battle, they had lost a big part of their camp. Faces he recognized lay, motionless on the ground. Other campers were groaning and moaning in pain. Fires destroyed a big part of the woods. It was a victory, but a shallow one.

Before Jason could process what was happening, the earth began rumbling beneath his feet. A hellhound howled, and he raised his sword, expecting another fight, when a hand touched his leg. He looked down to see Chiron giving him a reassuring look.

"The battle is over for today, my boy," he promised. "Grover's panic has caused the enemy to flee to the darkest parts of the Labyrinth once again. You mustn't worry for right now; just help the wounded."

Jason breathed a sigh of relief, then, threw his sword into the air, where it turned into a golden coin. For probably the millionth time, Jason caught the coin expertly and tucked it back into his pocket. He smiled briefly at Chiron, then walked towards the bodies, searching for survivors.

What he found while searching made him sick. Many of the demigods were dead, or close enough to dying that no amount of ambrosia or nectar could save them. Their blank eyes desperately pleaded for him to just end their lives—to make the pain stop. He couldn't bring himself to look at the bodies for long. Some of these people were close friends. It hurt too much to dwell on.

As Jason continued his walk, he heard a groan come from one of the fallen half-bloods. Looking around intently, he quickly found that the sound had come from Connor Stoll, who lay in a puddle of his own blood, brown hair plastered to his forehead. His shirt was torn; his sword was nowhere to be seen.

The sight of him made Jason disgusted.

"I need a medic over here!" he yelled. One of Apollo's blonde children looked up from another body, then ran over to where he stood, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

As the girl kneeled down next Connor, she gasped, heeding no attention to Jason. She began muttering a healing spell, and after a few moments of that and feeding him nectar and ambrosia, Connor's tense form relaxed, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The Apollo girl stood up, expression dark and blue eyes sad. "I'm glad you called me over when you did, Jason," she said quietly. "A few minutes later… we would've been in some trouble. He's lost a lot of blood, but I think he'll be okay."

Jason nodded. "I'm glad. 'Seems like a nice guy."

The girl shrugged. "Yeah, well, anyone that isn't the enemy is 'nice' in my opinion. I'll see you around, okay?" After Jason nodded again, the girl walked away, probably to go find another person to treat.

The son of Jupiter bent down next to his fallen comrade, who looked like he had been through Hades and back. He felt strangely… responsible for Connor being hurt, despite the fact that he didn't even know him that well. It was just that… he was supposed to be the hero, and these were the people he was supposed to be leading. The fact that so many people were dead, dying, or injured…

What did that have to say about this leadership skills?

Jason sighed, gathering up Connor is his arms to take him to the infirmary, or what was left of it. The other teenager groaned again, arms and legs flopping everywhere limply as Jason carried—more like dragged—him away.

The thought stayed in his mind as he eventually made it to the infirmary, setting Connor down on one of the remaining beds. Just seeing the broken people in the infirmary made him feel even worse. How could so many people be injured, when he turned out practically fine?

Jason fell into one of the seats, burying his head in his hands. Gods, he felt awful. Just awful. He wanted to find Kronos and rip his throat out for doing this to so many innocent people.

Looking up, Jason sighed. There was work to be done outside, and he didn't need to be in here, acting all depressed and such. No matter what, he had a duty to do, even if he failed at it. So, he stood up, and walked out of the room, but not before stopping at the doorway and turning to the kids that were in the beds.

"I'm going to make it up to you," Jason whispered. "Whoever did this to you… they're going down. I promise you that."

And, maybe it was his imagination, but as he walked out of the infirmary, he could've sworn he heard a weak, tired, "Thank you…"


AN: And so begins a new challenge for you guys. Somewhere in this chapter, one of us authors made a cameo. It's your job to locate that cameo, and name which author was it. From here on out, we shall be making random appearances. :3 Whoever guesses first gets virtual cookies: (::) (::) (::) (::) (::)