Hello lovelies!

Sorry I haven't posted in forever. Things have been crazy, and I was going to post last night but I was at this huge party and didn't get home until one in the morning. I was "pulling a Mercer", if you will. Listen to the song Mercer sings in this chapter! It describes her life perfectly!

Mercer's Point of View

When Mercer woke up the next morning, her head was pounding. The light streaming in from her bedroom window seemed to blind her. She made a mental note to never drink tequila again. Or whiskey. Mercer couldn't remember the details of her previous night.

She remembered the club, and the loud music, and Travis being mad at her. Those images stung in her mind. Mercer felt like shit. How could she have let herself become that person again? That person who got drunk, did stupid things, and hurt the people she loved.

She got up slowly, groaning at the effort it. Hangovers were the worst. She couldn't even remember how she had gotten home last night. And suddenly, Mercer's pain doubled as she gasped at the sharp sting she felt in her side.

It was right below her rib cage on her left side. Mercer looked down tentatively, heart pounding. She was still wearing the short shirt from last night, so her stomach was in plain view.

Along her side was a thick gauze bandage about half the size of a piece of paper. Mercer gingerly started to lift up the tape keeping it on her, mouth dry. Underneath was a gash so large and deep that it looked like something had taken a bite out of her. Mercer quickly covered it back up, the blood starting to gush out of it again without the bandage. More horrific memories of the previous night began to wash over her.

She remembered a cab. And screaming. She remembered herself screaming. She remembered a monster. And running through the streets of Manhattan. Correction: she remembered Connor carrying her through the streets of Manhattan. She remembered hot breath on her neck and lips on her own lips. She couldn't remember whose lips exactly they were.

Head still pounding, Mercer made her way to the mirror to asses the damage. Her mascara was smeared all over her face, and her hair was deeply knotted. Besides that, nothing else seemed to be wrong with her on the surface. What had happened?

Mercer felt a small burning in her left pocket. She dug her hand in, finding a small, smooth object. She pulled it out and saw the mysterious stone she had found inside the watch with the strange inscription. She still had no idea what it meant. Why had her mother wanted her to have this? Aphrodite had hidden it in the watch, so obviously she wanted it to be a secret that Mercer had it. But why? It grew even warmer in Mercer's hand as she examined it until it started to burn. The pain in her side grew immensely and started throbbing. She doubled over in pain. She immediately shoved the stone back in her pocket, immediately feeling relief.

Mercer collected herself, determined not to let on about the stone, and headed downstairs.

Connor's Point of View

Connor stood in Mercer's kitchen, making scrambled eggs and bacon while Mercer was passed out in her room. Last night had been the strangest night of his life.

First of all, Mercer was dating his brother. When Connor had taken Travis aside to ask him what was up with him lately, Travis had told him everything. About how he was dating Mercer, about how Travis didn't trust her now, and how he was still in love with Katie. The first part had disappointed Connor immensely, but the last part gave him hope. But Connor couldn't allow himself to hope. What had happened between him and Mercer last night was a mistake.

Mercer had kissed him last night. Multiple times. But she had been drunk. It was stupid of Connor to take advantage of her while she was like that. It wasn't right. He wanted to be with Mercer, but not like this. He felt terrible about it. Connor had hurt his brother. Travis may not have loved Mercer, but Connor had betrayed him. Connor was worried. Travis had left the club with no explanation, and now he was nowhere to be found. He had said he was going back to camp, but Connor couldn't help his concern, seeing as him and Mercer had been attacked by a monster last night.

Connor tried not to think of the horrific event, but he couldn't help it. The cab driver had turned out to be a chimaera in disguise. Connor had had to fight the thing off all while Mercer was passed out. His stomach felt sick as he remember running through alleys, hiding in back corners to escape the thing. Mercer had woken up, but she was in no state to fight. Connor normally would have been able to fight with much more ease, but having to protect drunk Mercer at the same time made it impossible to get in a good swipe with his sword. It didn't help that the chimaera had disconnected Connor's kneecap from the rest of his knee.

But the most stomach churning event of the evening had been when the thing had taken a bite out of Mercer. That was another reason Connor felt terrible. He was supposed to protect her on this trip, and he had failed. She had gotten hurt because he wasn't paying attention. If Connor had just realized that there was something strange about the driver earlier, Mercer wouldn't be lying in bed with that huge gash in her side. They had finally escaped after Connor stabbed the monster and carried Mercer ten blocks back to the apartment on his injured leg. She had lost so much blood.

Connor had tried to feed her ambrosia, but something about the alcohol made it less effective in her body. He had been too nervous to give her any more. The best he could do was to bandage her side and watch her to make sure she didn't sleep on it. He had stayed up with her all night.

She stumbled down the stairs, clumsily gripping the railing and rubbing her eyes. Connor immediately rushed to her side,forgetting about the breakfast he was making.

"Easy, easy," he said soothingly. Mercer put her arm around his shoulder and Connor lifted her legs out from under her.

"I'm fine," she insisted weakly, but Connor could see that it wasn't true. She had huge bags under her eyes, accentuated by her ruined makeup, and her face was pale from the effort it took just to walk down a portion of the stairs. Connor felt a pang in his chest.

Connor set her down in one of the chairs near the table. The one thing Mercer's family needed more of was comfortable furniture. Everything was so stylish, and stiff. Connor stood nervously at her side as she put her head between her hands.

Mercer's Point of View

Mercer was panicking. Connor was just standing there, looking at her expectantly. It killed her to see him like that, his face filled with hope and nervous admiration. Mercer cared about Connor, but after last night, she wasn't sure she deserved that.

"Connor, what happened?" she asked nervously as she rubbed her temples. Connor froze.

"You don't remember?" he asked nervously. Why was Connor acting so weird?

"Not a thing. Just please explain this huge bite in my side because I'm freaking out and I'm remembering a lot of weird things that seem like dreams but I know they can't be because they're so vivid," she rambled, letting all her fear pour out of her. Connor sat down next to her as she broke down into tears.

"Hey, it's ok," he said, rubbing her back, making sure to avoid her large wound. Her sobs racked her whole body. The gesture sent Mercer over the edge. Why was he being so nice? He should have hated her, he should have been yelling at her right now.

"Connor, whatever I did, I'm so sorry. I know what I can be like when I drink, and whatever I did I didn't mean it. I just feel so terrible that you had to see me like that," she said, her sobs interrupting her words.

"It's not you Mercer. It was me. We got attacked by a chimaera, and I couldn't fight it off. It... bit you. I tried the best I could, but the nectar and ambrosia weren't working, and I'm such an idiot for letting us get into that cab It was so stupid of me in the first place, getting in a cab when anyone in the world could have been driving it. Mercer I'm so sorry," Connor said, his voice full of regret. They were attacked? Mercer felt a new wave of guilt wash over her. She had been too wasted to do anything, to help Connor. She suddenly examined his body, looking for any signs of injury. She noticed that his knee was in a brace.

"What happened to your knee?" she asked. Connor looked away from her.

"Mercer it's nothing," he said quietly. Mercer's head throbbed again. She was having another flashback, this time of a sickening crunch and Connor's screams of pain. She put her hand over her mouth, sobs escaping in gasps.

"This is all my fault," she said desperately, the guilt consuming her. If she hadn't been too drunk to function, they could have gotten away.

"How?"

"Because I was an asshole and got wasted! All because I was upset that Travis was mad at me. Gods, I never wanted either of you to see me like that. But you deserved to know the truth," she said, voice filled with desperation. Connor just sat there, unable to respond.

"You deserved to know what kind of person I am. The person I was at camp, that's not me. I'm not a good person! Why can't you see that?," Mercer screamed, standing up and turning away from Connor.

"Mercer, you are a good person," Connor started. Mercer put her head up to her head and gritted her teeth. The pain was overwhelming, threatening to burst out of her skull. Everything grew hazy.

It doesn't matter what you did in your past," he continued. Mercer wanted him to stop. She was below pity, and he was blind if he still thought she was able to be saved. Mercer thought in that moment that she was beyond the point of no return. She had manipulated Connor into falling in love with her, and it hurt her that maybe she felt the same way. People like her didn't deserve love. Mercer deserved to be hated.

"STOP BEING NICE TO ME! Can't you see that I'm a terrible person? I've never cared about anything or anyone, especially not you! You think I'm such a good person? Do you want to know what I've done?" she said, her voice laced with venom. Connor stood, speechless. It almost stopped her, seeing the hurt look in his eyes. But she knew she had to make him let go of her and move on.

"I got drunk every weekend, I've hooked up with guys whose names I was too wasted to remember, I skipped class every day, and I got a teacher fired because he was failing me by saying that we had been having an affair with him," she yelled. Mercer froze for a second, almost losing her nerve as she took in the look of utter betrayal in Connor's face. She hadn't meant to tell him that. She felt like she had just kicked the puppy. But she continued on. Connor deserved to know the truth about her. It wasn't right that he saw her as perfection, when she was so far from it.

"That's why Jess and all the others hate me. I got their favorite teachers fired," she said slowly, willing her tears to stop.

"I told the principle that he had been sleeping with me. He was twenty-seven. He had a wife. I ruined their marriage," she said maliciously, taking a step towards Connor. He stepped back.

"Mercer, I don't believe you. This isn't you," he said, pleadingly. But it was. Mr. Prince, in her junior year, had failed her in Pre-Calculus the first term. Mercer has started the rumor to get him fired, but had never actually done anything with him. He had been the young, cool teacher at Alabaster.

"It is though, Connor. This is who I am," she said, trying not to cry.

"And you deserve better than me," she said quickly and desperately. Connor stood there for a few seconds, struggling for words.

"I don't think-"

"You know Connor, why don't you just go home?" she said angrily, cutting him off. She turned away from him, running up the stairs and down the hallway to her room.

Mercer slammed the door, collapsing on her bed. She refused to cry. She had done the right thing. But why did it hurt so much?

Mercer's room was her own little private world. Her four poster bed had song lyrics doodled into every inch of the wood, as did her wooden desk. A wall of ticket stubs, play programs, pictures of artists like Salvador Dali, postcards, and magazine clippings formed a collage of everything important in her life above her desk. Small paper cranes hung on strings from her floor lamp. Another wall was entirely posters of bands from The Beatles, to The Kills, to Bob Marley. The inside of her door was covered entirely in yellow sticky notes with her favorite quotes on them. Another wall was a huge chalkboard. On it were her doodles, random lists with titles like "Nicknames for Future Friends", and many random phrases. Some of them were strings of words that had popped into her mind while she was in class, others were fragments of half-remembered dreams. Her room was an eclectic tornado, but she loved it. She hardly ever let any of her friends come inside, because it just felt so private and personal. She had poured her soul into her room. She changed out of her party clothes and into some sweats, throwing her hair into a bun on top of her head.

Mercer walked over to her small collection of guitars and amps, picking out her ukelele. She always felt better when she played. Absentmindedly she began strumming the chords to her favorite song, Lua by Bright Eyes. It summed up everything that was wrong in her life. She started to sing softly, tentatively.

Mercer just felt so small and alone as she sang. She had no one, absolutely no one in the world she could turn to right now. And the song fit that feeling perfectly. She burst in on the next verse, her voice close to breaking

"When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend, grab a coffee and the paper have my own conversations..."

She kept singing, feeling so guilty for what she had done to Connor and Travis. But the beauty of music was that she could release all of her feelings into the words of the song. The last chorus rolled around after a minute or two of playing.

"It was so simple in the moonlight, now it's so complicated..." she sang out, the song ending. She still refused to allow herself to cry. She missed both of the boys desperately, but what she had done was right. She had been leading both of them, and everyone at camp on. She heard a tentative knock on her door. Who could it be? Mercer got up from her bed and plodded over to the door, opening it slightly.

It was Connor.

"I thought you left," she said, looking down at her feet. Why was he still here, and not on his way back to camp like Travis was? Connor smirked. Why was he smirking? There was nothing for him to be happy about.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he said. Oh Gods, his smile was beautiful. It was different than Travis' somehow, kinder and sweeter.

"Someone's got to take care of you. My brother may have abandoned his post as your protector, but I won't let the monsters get rid of you that easily," he said. Mercer frowned. He wasn't staying for her. He was just doing his job.

"And, you kind of told me how you were hopelessly in love with me last night, so I figured it would be an ass move to just leave you here all alone," he said mischievously. Mercer's cheeks grew red. Had she really said that? She couldn't remember.

"Really?" she asked nervously.

"Well actually, I told you I liked you, then you kissed me, so I kind of just assumed..." he trailed off, an impish look in his deep blue eyes. They kissed? Shit, it was worse than she thought. She had kissed her boyfriend's brother. Well, ex-boyfriend. But she wasn't sure. Was Travis her ex-boyfriend? She remembered them yelling at each other, but she couldn't remember if they had broken up. She groaned, walking away from the door and flopping down on her bed. Connor stepped inside tentatively.

"Is it okay if I come in?" he asked, biting his lip. Mercer stopped, considering if she wanted to let him in. This was more than just her room. This was her heart and soul.

"Yeah, just close the door behind you," she said with a sigh. He sat down on the bed next to her. He started nervously picking at a strand of her comforter. Mercer had never seen a Stoll brother more lost for words.

"Connor, why are you still here?" she asked. He frowned.

"Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I should hate you right now. Right?" Mercer didn't respond. They sat there for another couple of awkward minutes, Connor occasionally opening his mouth, but nothing came out. He got up, looking around at the hurricane that was her room pensively, occasionally smiling at something that caught his eye.

"It's a tornado, I know," she said. He frowned again.

"No. It's you," he responded. He sat back down.

"Mercer, you know why I stayed?" he started.

"Because I am falling absolutely, completely, in love with you. And when you like someone that much, you're willing to forgive everything about their past. I don't care if you got someone fired, Gods, I couldn't care if you got the President of the United States fired. Because what matters is what you choose to do now. Mercer, I'm falling for you. That's why I stayed. Because I'm not as ready to give up on you as you are. There's still good in you," he said. Mercer's breathing stopped.

"Connor," she began with a sigh, "I don't think there is."

They sat there for a few moments. And then Connor was smashing his lips against hers. She kissed him back. She couldn't explain what was happening, but she liked it. He started to push his tongue up against her lips, but she pushed him away.

"We can't do this!" she cried out. Her tears threatened to push through, but she held them back.

"Oh Gods, Mercer, I'm so sorry."

"I want to like you, but I can't! I can't be with you when I was just with your brother, I can't be with you when Aphrodite and Athena are about to go to war over me, I can't be with you when I'm so confused! You're just making it worse," she said. Connor opened his mouth to apologize again.

"Mercer, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I want to be here for you in whatever way you can have me. Whether that's as a friend, or something more," he said. Mercer smiled a bit, relief flooding her. She couldn't take Connor's affections when she was feeling so confused. It was too much emotion to deal with. She hugged him, and they fell back onto her pillows, her head buried into her neck as she refused to let her emotions spill over. They stayed like that for ten minutes, with him stroking her hair soothingly. She looked up at him.

"Thank you for not asking if I did," she said softly. He frowned.
"Asking if you did what?" She bit her lip.

"If I really slept with my teacher," she said, averting her eyes to her toes, which were buried under a blanket next to Connor's feet.

"I didn't need to," he said, with a trusting smile. Mercer's heart fluttered. He trusted her. Mercer, against her better judgement, started to move her face forward so that her lips were only a centimeter from his. Connor took a sharp breath, about to close the gap. But then they both froze.

The stone had grown hot in Mercer's pocket again. At first it was only a slight warmth, but it had started to burn. But this time, Mercer didn't feel the pain. Instead, she felt a sort of pleasant feeling in her wound, as if it were stitching itself together.

Connor started screaming all of a sudden. His tortured yells escaped his lips as he clutched his side. He stumbled out of Mercer's bed and onto his knees on the floor. Mercer sat in utter shock at first, but then she got up quickly to help Connor. What was happening?

"Connor, what's wrong?" she yelled over his screams.

"IT HURTS! Makeitstopmakeitstop," he screamed, gritting his teeth and rolling in agony. Mercer went over and lifted his shirt up at the spot he was clutching in his side. All the while, the stone grew hotter and burned in Mercer's pocket. Mercer gasped at what she saw.

Right in the exact same spot where Mercer had the huge gash, a gaping wound was burying itself into Connor's skin. Mercer lifted up her shirt to compare.

Hers was almost completely gone.