*Hits the deck to dodge rotten fruit being thrown.* He, he…hey guys. Miss me?

There's really no excuse. I'm sorry. I got stumped, life got weird, Mum got married…and writing fanfiction got put on the shelf for a while. I'm at uni, so even now, I may struggle to update – at least until late June. This chapter…is the incarnation of guilt and time, I guess?

DISCLAIMER: Do we have to say this multiple times in the one story? 'Cause it is aforementioned 1000000000 times now, so I think I'll stop.

Annabeth sat in her cabin, lonely and scared. She gently dabbed a nectar soaked rag on Percy's forehead, where the massive bruise once was. It was late afternoon. It swelling on Percy's head had gone down, the welt had faded completely and he was fast asleep. But the guilt-racked daughter of Athena couldn't bring herself to stop.

She looked back on her actions with regret – mostly to Piper. When Percy had been knocked unconscious earlier that morning, she went a little…crazy. She'd rushed at Leadership, despite his profuse apologies, enraged. Piper stepped in to protect Jason's key aspect, even he was Roman. She was now in the sick bay.

Upon whacking her friend, Annabeth snapped out of it immediately. She had a tiny cut on her cheek, made by Piper's fingernails, but she didn't hold it against her. She apologised to her a million times as Romance carried her, bridal style, to the sick bay (which probably wasn't necessary, but romantic). Once they left, the room descended into an awkward silence. Annabeth had stared at them all, wide-eyed. Then brimming with confusion, she scooped Percy up and ran.

She was getting a battle-axe style headache. It was like her thirst for victory was battling…some form of higher wisdom. Maybe Athena was helping? Athena was her mother…right? Okay, that was scary. She wasn't certain.

Annabeth stood up straighter. Yes. Athena was her mother. Annabeth would stay wise and in control. She was the captain of her mind, and she would fight whatever had happened to it.

Victory.

She doubled over and groaned. A small, but enthused, voice murmured in her ear. A blanket covered her. Team Greek had to win. No, said another voice, that sounded like her mother, they don't. The voice cleared her mind. That blanketed feeling was what happened last time, when everything went haywire. She forced it away.

It came back, most insistent, so strong it felt real. She leaped to her feet, threw her arms up and did her best to dislodge it. It got heavier and heavier, until she fell to the floor, with it crushing her.

"Annabeth?" a quiet voice spoke from the bed. It was weak, but familiar. A sweet, sarcastic voice that chased away her nightmares, and the blanket.

Percy was awake.

"Percy!" she clambered to her feet, hair askew, all dignity running for the hills. She practically threw herself on top of her boyfriend.

Seaweed Brain chuckled, and held her. But, despite her elation at seeing him awake, she could feel the tension in his arms, like he was nervous.

Annabeth gently pulled away, and looked at him. He was looking at her questioningly, former humour gone. The wheels in her head started turning, and the answer came quickly.

This was the first time they'd been face-to-face since she'd yelled at him in the mess hall. She froze, unsure of what to say. Percy misinterpreted her stiffness.

He grabbed her by the arms, green eyes filled with desperation. "Annabeth, you have to fight it. I don't know what's going on – as usual, I guess – but it's making everyone crazy! Please, Wise Girl, I need you!" His grip became uncomfortably tight as he tried to reach her. Annabeth quickly allayed his fears.

"Percy, calm down. I'm okay…now. I felt it too, before, but I think my mother helped me out of it." Percy visibly relaxed, then stiffened again.

"Why did you freeze up before? Wait, what happened when I got conked? Are you hur-," she cut him off. Typical Seaweed Brain; he gets his face smashed in by a discus, then asks if she's okay.

She explained what had happened as concisely as possible, rushing through her attack on Leadership, and how Piper had been hurt. The shame was almost too much. Finally, she got around to his first question.

"I just remembered what I said to you before. Oh gods, Percy, I'm so sorry. This whole competitive thing must be Hades for you, with you loyalty. I was just so-," This time, Annabeth got cut off.

Being kissed by the son of the sea god did that to you. The inseparable couple broke apart. All was right, just for a second.

Then reality made a come-back.

"So, what has been happening?" Percy asked. Annabeth gasped, clasping her hand to her forehead. How could she forget? She scooped the silver key off her bedside and held it up to Percy.

"I found this in the engine room, on the day of the chariot race; it's the symbol of Janus. I think he separated Jason, to force him to choose between Greek and Roman – Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter," she handed Percy the key, letting him roll it between his fingers.

"But that doesn't explain why everyone's gone koo-koo. I mean, Frank and Leo have always been a little tense, but I thought they were over that. This…this is something else," Percy, as usual, looked to Annabeth for answers. "Janus isn't the god of rivalry and assholes, is he?"

Annabeth shook her head. "Choice, beginnings, ends, doorways – sure. But, this mad competitiveness?" She looked at the bed-sheet, pondering the problem.

"…Wasn't Adidas super competitive?" Annabeth looked at him. "No, not Adidas. Reeboks? Hush Puppies? That goddess that's all victory-hyped, named after sports shoes?"

"Nike?" Annabeth said. "She's the goddess of victory. Victoria in Roman. She was the main goddess of the Olympic games, competitors would leave her offerings…" her eyes widened.

"What?" Percy asked.

"The games! What if they've somehow invoked Nike? Nike was determined to win contest, but her Roman counterpart, Victoria, was obsessed with victory in battle! If the gods are brought into harmony by their spheres of influence being invoked…" Annabeth trailed off.

"We need to tell the others!" Percy, contrary to common belief, wasn't dumb. He knew how bad this could get. He sprang to his feet, but Annabeth remained glued to the bed. "What's wrong?"

"Oh no."

"What is it?"

"Oh gods."

"Annabeth?"

The daughter of Athena looked at him, her clear grey eyes wide with horror. "Victory in battle. Greeks versus Romans. If the tension on this ship gets any worse-"

"They could kill each other," Percy whispered. "Literally."

Instantly, the duo were on their feet, marching for the door. Percy Jackson, former praetor, had been injured – the Romans would be furious. Annabeth Chase, Athenian ambassador, had quit the quest for victory and injured Piper – the Greeks would be furious. The tension was mounting.

None shall stand in the way. Victory must be declared.

"What th-?" The question didn't even leave Percy's mouth before the door started glowing. As the blinding blue light faded, Annabeth ran forward and rattled the handle desperately.

The victory goddess's magic had locked it. She hammered on the door, and the sound was strangely muffled. It had been soundproofed.

Percy and Annabeth were the only people that weren't affected. They were the only people that could stop the Argo II from tearing itself apart.

And they were trapped.

"Harder!" shouted Piper. She stood firm, sword in hand, metres away from where Honesty's first javelin had landed.

"Pipes, you've been injured." Courage spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone.

"The final contest is in two days, Jas- Courage. I want to make sure you're ready." Piper gazed up at Jason's bravest aspect. He was taller than the others, head high, eyes sparkling a royal purple. With his ready stance and chiselled face, this Jason looked ready to take on Gaia herself.

Still, Piper worried.

The third and final challenge had been declared by Storm that afternoon. After the whole debacle with Leadership (that scum-sucking clotpole), Annabeth and Percy, competitiveness had peaked. Leo had hidden in the engine room, doing routine maintenance. Hazel, Frank, and those sore-loser Roman Jason's had buggered off who-cares-where, probably sulking.

Piper allowed herself an hour (or two) with Romance in the sick bay. She wanted Jason back to his old self more than anything, but he carried so much. He was always the hero, never wanting to 'burden' her with his problems. She could help! So, in a selfish kind of way (that she wasn't particularly proud of), Piper enjoyed having her boyfriend's undivided attention, if only for a while.

But, romantics aside, there was still a contest to win! Storm had gathered everyone, sans Percy, Coach and Annabeth, in the mess hall less than an hour ago.

"Sword-fighting," he declared. "Courage versus Guilt. Day after tomorrow. Winner takes all."

Till death.

A manic voice had whispered. The strange blanket had settled over her, and everyone else.

Roman traditions. A gladiator style battle. One wins gloriously. One dies bravely. Till death.

There'd been a few protests. The entire meeting was fuzzy; Piper couldn't remember who (her, perhaps?). They had drowned under the blanket, the voice insisting.

Till death.

"No…"

Till death!

"…Is that right?"

Till death!

"Maybe…are you sure it's okay?"

Till DEATH!

"I think you're right."

TILL DEATH!

"Yes!"

TILL DEATH!

"YES!"

And so, here they were. She and Courage had been training together for around 40 minutes. Back and forth, they sparred, taking short breaks when needed. There was no way she was going to let Courage die. You shouldn't be letting any part of Jason die. A voice in her murmured, sounding like her mother. She dropped her sword.

"Piper?"

You love him, protect him. Darling, you're better than this, Aphrodite said. Maybe she should listen? She gasped in pain and clutched her head. The blanket was back with a vengeance and that crazed, demanding voice spoke, drowning out Aphrodite, giving her headache from the depths of Tartarus.

You are protecting. Guilt hinders him; stops him from coming to Camp Half-Blood.

That was true, wasn't it?

Stops him coming home!

Yes, that sounds like something a dirty Roman would do.

Stop him coming…to you, Piper!

NO!

LET GUILT DIE! CLAIM ULTIMATE VICTORY!

"I will," she said.

"Who are you talking to?" Piper looked up. She was on the ground, clutching her head. Courage had crouched beside her, looking concerned. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she gave him her most convincing smile. "Let's go again."

Suddenly, the door to the training area creaked open. Hazel and Guilt walked in.

Piper got to her feet. Obviously, they wanted to train. She and Courage were here first. But, instead of taking a hint, the two Romans strolled into the training area and stood across from them.

The stand-off was silent. Glares spoke volumes.

Finally, Piper grasped Courage's arm and led him away. They could train in her room.

Stupid Romans. They would crush them.

Normally, Piper, Annabeth or Jason handled injuries. Piper could charmspeak her patients into a calming daze. Annabeth had the most field experience – she really knew her stuff. And Jason was always level-headed in a crisis.

But Jason was incapacitated. Annabeth and Piper? They couldn't be trusted.

That's how Frank Zhang came to be standing in the bathroom with Leadership. After the announcement of the third challenge, most of the crew and players had left the mess hall. Leadership stayed, getting himself some fruit salad. As Frank himself turned to go, he noticed the Roman Jason cringing every time he used his right hand.

"You okay, Leadership?" Frank had asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking, Frank." Leadership responded (seriously, that guy could find anything to praise). Frank continued to stand in the doorway, concerned, until Leadership relented.

"When the javelin slipped, the point grazed my hand a little," he held up his right hand, showing a shallow cut across the top of his palm. "It stings more than it should – I don't get that."

"It might be infected, man. C'mon, we'll put something on it."

So, now they were in the bathroom. Frank was pawing through the medicine cabinet. He was rewarded with a thrill of triumph as he dug up some anti-bacterial lotion and a small bandage.

"Here," he sat opposite to Leadership and took the injured hand in his own. His thumb brushed against Leadership's injured palm accidentally, and Frank frowned.

"What's up?" Leadership asked.

"Your hand," Frank said. "It feels…greasy. Don't take this personally, but when did you last wash your hands?"

Leadership quirked an eyebrow. "This morning. I took a shower before the second contest."

"Not since then?" Frank asked.

"Nope."

"Hmm," Frank frowned, then shook his head. He got a damp rag and started cleaning the cut. Before rinsing the rag, he glanced at it and frowned.

"C'mon Frank, stop frowning! You don't want your face to stay like that," Leadership teased lightly. "Seriously, bud, you okay?"

"Have you been in the engine room?" Frank asked. He sniffed the rag, which was stained with a brown-ish-grey goop that had come off Leadership's hand.

"No."

"This smells like machines. Like that greasy gunk Leo always has all over him," Frank stared at the rag, then shook his head. "Never mind, man. It's probably nothing."

But Frank couldn't shake it. He cleaned, disinfected and bandaged the Jason's wound. Leadership thanked him with a smile and went on his way. Frank was left sitting on the edge of the bath, along with his thoughts.

He remembered how the javelin and discus had slipped right out of Leadership's hands.

The knowing looks Annabeth and Honesty had shared, that Frank had put down to his imagination.

The machine grease on Leadership's hand.

Frank was on his feet in an instant. He couldn't believe what his mind was telling him.

Someone on Team Greek had been cheating!

And who would have the nerve to cheat, as well as ready access to machine grease? That weird blanket feeling came over him forcefully, bringing with it a rage like he'd never felt before.

"Valdez," he snarled.

Oh, no! Beast Boy's gonna kill Iron Man! Ah!

So, this entire fic is coming off WAY more intense than I originally planned. Wowee.

THIS IS MY LONGEST CHAPTER YET! WHOO! I is hoping you approve, dear readers!

Remember, kiddies, I can't update till late June. I'm a full time uni student – shit's about to get hectic. I'll try and squeeze in another one before then, but no crying if it doesn't happen.

And yes, I realise I've left y'all with a month-long cliffie. Can't be worse than my last update, though.

BEFORE THE END OF JUNE! I promise.

Till next time! Iris.