Author's Note: Sorry for the wait in advance. At least you aren't waiting for one of my Marvel stories...hehe...heh...yeeaaaah...Anyway! Here's chapter numero six! It's longer than the last one and Mitch is awake! Yaaaaay! So yeah. I hate advertising, but before I'm done here, I'm gonna advertise anyway. Deal with it. So if you like Criminal Minds, go check out my JJ/OC fic! It's not that popular considering people like Will, but I'm not a fan, so I'm tryin' to get some publicity out there. If you check it out, you all get virtual chocolate chip cookies and a shoutout. Or a special PM. Or whatever. You're welcome.

On that note, read, review, follow, favorite, the gout! Thank you all for waiting patiently, and without further ado, chapter six!

Rating: This'll be a solid T rating for action sequences and language.

Disclaimer: All rights to the PJO and HoH universe go to the man, the myth, and the legend, Rick Riordan himself. I take claim to my OCs (aka, Kate, Mitch, and KP [I think that's all of them]).

Editing: All editing is done by me, all mistakes are mine.


Chapter Six

I had multiple dreams while I was out, all consisting of sword-fighting girlfriends, large cows, and ferrets firing bows and arrows.

When I woke up from said dreams (which could arguably be called nightmares), I had no idea where I was. The first thing I noticed was my surroundings. I was in a soft bed with a fluffy pillow propped up behind my head. The walls in the room were a soft blue and the flooring was hardwood. A few other beds were scattered around the large room, but none of them were occupied. There was no one inside but me.

Beside me, on the bedside table was a glass of what looked like apple juice. There was ice in the glass and a swirly straw, which was appreciated. If a straw wasn't swirly, then you aren't living life.

The second thing I noticed was that I felt great. Absolutely fine. My limbs tingled with energy and I could've sprinted a marathon. Then I frowned as the events prior to my unconsciousness hit me like a truck.

Kate stabbed me. With a freakin' sword. The revelation was like a sucker punch to the gut. We'd been through so much together, Kate and I. The wedding, our mishaps that we liked to attempt to call relationships, the horrors of AP English class. And she stabbed me.

She had been my best friend, but clearly that wasn't true. A lot of things that I had previously believed weren't true. I remembered Jake Mason and KP, Percy and Annabeth, fighting snake ladies and oversized dogs. I remembered Percy fighting the Minotaur, of all things. The mythological beast straight out of my Greek literature textbook.

But the prominent memory was the way the cold metal of Kate's sword pierced right through my stomach and went out the other side. My abdominal area was unusually cold and I had a feeling it'd always be that way. I could recall the satisfied, yet a bit remorseful, look in Kate's eyes as she ran me through, and then pulled the blade out, leaving me to bleed out in the streets. From there, though, everything just seemed to get fuzzy.

I sat up, expecting a wave of dizziness or at least some sort of minor discomfort to plague me, but I felt fine. I was wearing clothes that weren't mine. An orange T-shirt with some gray drawstring sweatpants. The design on the T-shirt was strange. The words read Camp Half-Blood.

Camp Half-Blood…the kid who had helped me, Jake Mason. He said Camp Half-Blood was on Long Island. I was at the camp that Percy was always at, I realized. Great. My dad was probably freaking out. Hopefully.

The decal was a horse with wings right under the words. Horse with wings. I vaguely recalled a black flying horse that Percy rode. That same black horse carried Annabeth off when she had been stabbed herself.

What were they called again…? Wings…horses…Pegasus.

I was either having a really weird, really long dream, or I was on something. And I was pretty sure it wasn't the latter. None of this made any sense. Percy had told me that the world of Greek mythology was all real, but he couldn't have been right. Could he?

I pushed myself up and swung my legs out of the bed so they dangled over the hardwood floor. I wiggled my toes in a pair of stark white socks (seriously, they were so white, it was almost blinding. I was very impressed) that weren't mine. If they were mine, they wouldn't have been white anymore.

I lifted my shirt cautiously, ready to find an ugly red scar in the center of my stomach and an identical one on my back. There wasn't one. There was nothing. My stomach looked normal. Completely fine.

Blowing a breath out through clenched teeth, I grasped the cold glass with the swirly straw and took a sip of the drink. As soon as I tasted the liquid, I gagged, nearly spitting out the warm drink. How can things be warm with ice?! Anyway, I was fully expecting apple juice, instead getting a mouthful of cheeseburger. Yep, you heard me. Warm, greasy, delicious cheeseburger. In drink form.

The drink made me feel even better than I already did. A warm feeling spread through my chest and stomach like it was filling me with pure electricity. My arms and legs tingled even more than they had been. I felt like I could run two marathons. I was pretty sure fatty, greasy, cholesterol-filled cheeseburgers didn't make people feel that way. None I had eaten anyway.

Anyway, as I was gagging (like an idiot, probably), a voice sounded from the other side of the room. "Don't drop that glass. Chiron would be ticked."

I turned to see a guy in cargo shorts and an orange T-shirt like mine, but the sleeves were ripped off. He was also wearing a pair of flip-flops. I took one look him and the word 'surfer' thoroughly summarized the guy. He had windswept, unruly blond hair and eyes so blue that I could see them from where I was sitting. He had a dark tan like he spent most of his time outside. In one of his hands, he held a pair of Nike sandals that he threw at my feet as he approached me.

The guy stuck out his hand. "I'm Will. Will Solace. I've been taking care of you."

After getting over the fact that I was drinking liquid cheeseburger (it was delightful after I got used to it), I shook the kid's hand. "Mitchell Blofis. Mitch. How, ah, how long have I been out?" My voice was raspy and came out like a frog's croak. It was positively disgusting.

Will grinned at me with blinding white teeth. On a side note, there was no way this guy didn't use whitening strips. No one's teeth were that perfect. "About three days. It's August 19."

"Where am I?" I asked as I took another drink of burger.

"What is this, Twenty Questions?" Will joked.

"I'm sorry that I have no idea who you are or what's going on, and that I'm forgetting my manners," I said sarcastically and smirked. "How are you, Will? It's absolutely delightful to meet you."

Will snorted. "Yeah, okay, whatever. You and Percy are gonna get along great…" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "C'mon. Chiron wants to talk to you and I'm sure Percy will want to know you're alright."

I shrugged and hopped off the bed, slipping on the sandals, and draining the glass, licking my lips. "You got anymore of that stuff?" I asked.

"Yeah, but unless you want to be a pile of ashes, you aren't getting any," said Will cryptically as he led me out of the room into a hallway, and then out the door of the building we were in. The scenery was so gorgeous, it took me a second to respond to Will's sarcasm.

We were on the wraparound deck of a large house. Ahead of me was a collection of buildings that reminded me heavily of ancient Greek architecture. Which, it probably was, considering what had happened in the past seventy-two hours. There was a pavilion, an amphitheater, and a circular arena with large, marble white pillars. It hit me that it couldn't have been ancient Greek; everything looked brand new.

Near the buildings, I saw a rock wall and I was excited for a total of three seconds until I saw a fiery red liquid pour from the top. The kid in an orange shirt on the wall dodged just in time as the stuff that burned the area he'd just been clinging to. It was lava. A rock wall that spilled lava. What the hell kind of camp did Percy go to?!

There was a sandpit nearby where a few kids in the same orange T-shirts that Will and I had were playing volleyball. If I wasn't hallucinating, a couple of those kids had green tinted skin. There was also a basketball court nearby where I wasn't sure, but I think Percy was playing.

A pod of cabins was nestled in a forest off to the side, but it also looked like the area was under construction. They seemed to be adding cabins as there were a few rough outlines of new buildings well underway.

"What do you mean a pile of ashes?" I finally asked.

"That stuff's nectar, the drink of the gods. Enough of that, and you'll burn up like hair on fire."

"Hair on fire?"

"It happens here more than you'd think."

That didn't make me feel very safe.

At the end of the porch sat a guy in a wheelchair, a kid about thirteen years old who looked incredibly inconvenienced, and a pudgy guy. A pudgy guy that I recognized as Mr. D. Percy had called him Dionysus, but I had a feeling we weren't on a first name basis just yet.

They were sitting around a card table as the kid dealt out the fifth card between them. I recognized poker chips. It wasn't much of a shock that Mr. D was the gambling type, but I wasn't going to say that. That would have been rude.

We stopped at the table and the man in the wheelchair and Mr. D looked up at us. The kid was staring intently at Will and I, silently pleading us for help. I felt bad. The man in the wheelchair was smiling lightly at us, on the other hand. He wore a plain white long sleeved shirt and a blanket over his legs. He had brown, graying hair, with a hairline that was receding only slightly and a scraggly beard. His eyes were the shade of coffee with a twinkle in them that was warm and inviting.

And then I looked at Mr. D, who, in turn, was glaring at us. Of course.

"Miguel Boxtop." Mr. D sounded annoyed. "You're awake. What a miracle. After what Walt tried, I wasn't sure you'd make it." His words were nice, but his monotone voice proved Mr. D was anything but. I was second-guessing my stay at Percy's camp. Drinks that turned kids to ash, lava rock walls, burning hair wasn't exactly a recipe for a good time (and it all had to do with fire, which was especially concerning). He'd also called me Miguel Boxtop. That was kind of insulting. My name wasn't that hard to remember. Do I look like a Miguel?

"I'm Walt," Will muttered lowly to me.

That made me feel a bit better. At least I wasn't his only victim.

"Dionysus, try to be polite for once," the man in the wheelchair chided gently. "The boy is going through a lot."

"Bah. You're too caring for your own good, Chiron. I'm still waiting for the day that you learn that these mindless half-bloods aren't worth your time." There was a pause as Mr. D laid his hand out on the table with a cocky smirk. "Full house."

The man, Chiron, merely smiled politely back as he put down his cards. "Straight flush."

Mr. D glared at the man and I was sure Mr. D would kill him. I wasn't sure how. Dionysus was terribly chubby and he looked like walking a few steps would cause him to go into cardiac arrest, but he was Dionysus. Greek god of wine, parties, and of course, madness. Chiron was just a guy in a wheelchair. He wouldn't stand a chance against a god. At least that's what I thought.

After a moment, Mr. D merely threw down his cards and shook his head. "I must be heading to Olympus. Something about Anniebell recreating our thrones. Honestly, why they're letting that girl redesign the home of the gods is beyond me."

"She's a very talented girl, Dionysus, and it would do you well to remember that that girl's name is Annabeth. I'm sure Athena wouldn't take too kindly for you insulting her daughter," said Chiron.

Mr. D muttered something about 'olives' and 'sensitive war goddesses' before clearing his throat. "Right, Annabeth, whatever. I'll be back. Don't let any of the campers escape, Chiron, I'd hate to fill out paperwork." Without waiting for Chiron's response, Mr. D disappeared into a cloud of purple, the smell of grapes lilting in the air. I merely stared at the spot where he had been standing.

"Eric, you can go now. Thank you," said Chiron.

The kid who had been dealing cards was smiling now, clearly relieved. He squeezed between Will and I and I watched him as he took off running towards the volleyball court, quickly joining the shorthanded team.

"Mitchell." Chiron's soft voice prompted me to look at him. "How are you feeling?"

I shrugged. "I – I'm not really sure. I mean, I feel great, physically. Like a million bucks. Mentally…I'm on overdrive. This is crazy."

Chiron laughed. "That's normal, at first. I'm sure you'll get used to it here. Lots of half-bloods have made the transition, I'm confident you can, too."

I frowned at that. "Half-blood? Maddi told me I didn't smell like a half-blood."

Will snorted next to me. "Maddi?"

I looked at him. "Vampire donkey cyborg cheerleader."

"I think the word you're looking for is empousa," he corrected.

"Whatever. I'm sticking with vampire donkey cyborg cheerleader. VDCC for short."

"You're an idiot."

"You barely know me."

"I know Percy and he's an idiot, so I'll just go out on a limb and say you are too."

"That's really offensive, Will, you take that back. I'm nothing like him."

Before Will could respond, Chiron cleared his throat slightly. We both returned our attention to the man in the wheelchair, muttering apologies.

"Right. You aren't. A half-blood, that is. Technically. Sort of."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at Chiron. "What do you mean by that?"

Chiron seemed to age ten years as he sighed wearily. "I'd like to let Percy explain. Shall we?"

I shrugged. "Lead the way."

I was waiting for Chiron to begin wheeling himself around, but instead he started to get…taller. His blanket fell off of his legs, but he didn't move. Previously mentioned legs got longer and longer, rising above his waistline. And then they were white. Not like, pure white, like white…fur. White freaking fur. And to top it all off, he pulled two, then four, polished hooves out of the box that now just resembled a wheelchair. Before me stood the front of a white stallion, but waist up, he was Chiron, wheelchair dude.

I cursed myself for being an idiot. Chiron in Greek mythology was the trainer of heroes, an immortal centaur, a son of Kronos. Immortal being the keyword, as he stood right before me. A centaur. Half man, half horse.

"I've been in that cursed box for much too long waiting for you to wake up, Mitchell. You're lucky you're special," Chiron said like he was scolding me, but he was smiling and there was a joking manner to his tone. I would have laughed right along with him, if I wasn't internally screaming.

Instead, I repeated, "Special," dumbly.

Chiron just laughed a hearty laugh and clapped me on the shoulder. "C'mon, Mitchell. Will, you too if you like. Let's go find Percy."


A/N: And that's a wrap! I'd like to note, that yes, I did heavily parallel the opening Camp Half-Blood scene in The Lightning Thief, so any references you see is from that. I just wanted to get all my facts down right, so don't go yelling at me for not being original. Definitely don't go yelling at me for not being original when 90% of OCs in the Percy Jackson world (or any fictional universe for that matter) are female. And definitely don't go yelling at me on the prospect of originality when all the male OCs in this world are CHAOS. Literally, of all the OCs, 95% are Chaos. Of the ones that aren't, 90% are female. I'm sorry, this turned into a mini rant because the 'dark!Percy teaming up with Chaos because Annabeth is dead/cheating on him' is so overdone it hurts my soul. Sorry, I love you all, have a nice day, review my chappie please.

I'm done now.