A/N: Short, yes. But full of Perlia. I feared it may be progressing far too fast, but I am going to slowly retract from the tension. This is mostly a filler chapter, so there won't be much action. However, I am already beginning to write the next chapter and I suspect it will be done soon.

Disclaimer: Don't own the Percy Jackson series. If I did, things would be extremely different.

It was several minutes before bystanders recovered from their shock and large news vans began pouring in from the road. The demigods played along with the reporters when cameras suddenly swung towards them. After hearing the investigated story from mortals, the questing teens provided improvisational lies. Percy, being the most convincing of all, held most of the attention.

"All I want," he pretended to choke back tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a worthless punk, I knew that somehow…we would be okay. And I know he'll want to award each and every person in this beautiful town of Los Angeles with a free appliance from his store. Here's the phone number."

Thalia had to give him props for that one. She held back her laughter and continued to listen to the reporters around them. Conveniently, Ares was being blamed for it all. The bombing in St. Louis, the bus, outside of the diner, the fight on the beach—everything. Percy, Annabeth, Grover and her had been kidnapped and dragged along on a cross-country trip. The Mist was often a beautiful thing.

Thalia spoke when appropriate. "No," she answered a question from a reporter. "I knew Percy before, and we were both camping with Ms. Jackson." She wiped a false tear from her cheek. "I hope Gabe doesn't honestly think I did something to his family."

By the end of it, the reporters and policeman had raised up enough money for the four of them to board a plane back to New York.

Thanks to the utility of Annabeth's invisibility cap (which Thalia found completely awesome), they were able to swerve beneath the press' radar upon arriving at LAX. The children of the Big Three chose seats next to one another, while their other two friends sat further in the back. Glancing over to her companion, the daughter of Zeus was surprised to find that he was just as nervous as she.

He gripped the armrests tightly, his knuckles white.

Impulsive as ever, she reached out and gripped his hand in hers. The son of Poseidon looked up in surprise, but slowly smiled. He squeezed her hand even tighter, and even though she was severely anxious, she couldn't think of anywhere she'd rather be.

Closing her eyes, and slouching back in her seat, she braced herself for sleep.

"Thalia?" Percy called suddenly. She opened her eyes groggily, turned to face him, and raised a brow, silently telling him to continue. "I don't want you to go up to Olympus with me."

His words struck her like a dagger, but she tried not to let it show on her face. "Why?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice steady.

"You said there were gods after you," he said, turning his gaze to the front. He was hiding his expression from her, and she had a feeling it was because his eyes betrayed his words. "Olympus is God Central. I can't let you go up there, knowing I'd only be putting you in a dangerous situation."

"We fought Ares together," she argued, sitting up straight. "Medusa. Chimera. Crusty. There's no way in Hades you're getting rid of me now, Jackson. You and me…we're in this together."

She didn't know when it had happened, but some time during her rant the two of them had leaned tauntingly close to one another. She could feel his warm breath fanning across her lips, damn near begging her to part them and taste them with her own. Swallowing thickly, the demigoddess let her blue gaze linger on his average-sized mouth, tempting her without end. She had never thought of anyone else's lips as particularly attractive before, but she felt that if she let her resolve slip for a miniscule moment, she would lean forward to seal his in a kiss.

"Together," he repeated, tasting the words on his tongue, sending fleeting gazes to the lower half of her face.

The daughter of Zeus was entranced; she didn't feel the restless turbulence when the plane took off. Previous fears shoved to the side, Percy slipped his hand from hers and placed it on her leather-clad forearm. If it were possible, they leaned even closer to each other, quickly folding up the bothersome armrest.

"About that…" he murmured, no longer bothering to avert his stare. Despite the serious atmosphere that had suddenly encased them, Thalia failed to hide her blush. Just when she thought he was going to close the troubling distance of three inches, he spoke again.

"I'm sorry for leaving you behind. I—I didn't know what to believe. And, I suppose deep down, I trusted you didn't betray us. I was using you as a sort of scapegoat for recent events, and I can't apologize enough." He released the breath he had been holding. "I know you're going to tell me to stop saying I'm sorry, but please. Just hear me out. I left you with Lord Hades."

"How does this have anything to do with me going up to Olympus?"

"I've betrayed you once, Thalia," he asserted, frowning. "I'm not doing it again."

Thalia pulled away from him, but looped her fingers through his once again. "You can't stop me from going to see my father," she argued, closing her eyes. "I have something to talk to him about."

"I'll be fine," Percy said. "If something bad happens, I don't want you to be hurt, too."

If she wasn't anything else, the daughter of Zeus was stubborn. Eventually, some way or another, she stepped up to the plate and got her way, even if she had to seek out solutions on her own. Jaw clenched, squeezing the boy's hand without restraint, she opened her eyes again and leaned slightly forward.

"I'm going with you."

"No."

"Don't make me pull rank," she threatened.

"Rank?" Percy smirked slightly, trying to mask it. Thalia caught it and glared. Why the hell couldn't he be serious for five minutes? Was it his life goal to mock her? "What do you mean, rank?"

"Daughter of Zeus," she stated, voice monotonous. "King of the Gods, eldest child of the Big Three." Letting a haughty smirk of her own show, she snickered. " That rank. I'm narcissistic enough to do it."

The son of Poseidon narrowed his eyes. "What makes you think that mentioning your rank will do anything for you? In case you haven't noticed, the only person here is I. I'm not going to let you come along."

Thalia hummed sarcastically to herself. "How do you plan on getting into Olympus without me to flaunt my rank?" She had a rank? What a laugh that notion was.

Percy frowned, shrugging. "Ask for the 600th floor?"

"You think the man at the desk is going to hand the key over so easily?" she challenged. "Hell, if it were that easy, everyone would be going up to see Dad."

The corners of Percy's lips twitched into a smile. "You called him Dad."

"So?" Suddenly defensive, she flexed her fingers through his and turned her gaze to the window. Trying to repress any motion sickness, she swallowed. They were so high up. Why were they so high up? Uh, you're in an airplane, genius. Oh, right.

"Nothing," the son of Poseidon said, blushing.

"No, what were you going to say?" Thalia pried, feeling self-conscious. Should she have not called Zeus her dad? She wasn't very close with the god, after all. Did it make her come off as snobby? On second thought, when had she ever cared if she came off a certain way? Why did she feel the undeniable urge to impress Percy?

"I just…I thought it was cute," the demigod muttered quietly, looking away from her.

The daughter of Zeus flushed a deep scarlet. He…he thought something she did was cute? Clearing her throat suddenly, she straightened her posture. "Thanks," she replied eventually, not knowing what else to say.

"I like holding your hand, you know," he said. Before she could respond, or turn even redder, he gasped. "Your hand! Gods, I can't believe I forgot. Is it still burned? Are you scarred? Does it hurt?"

As he checked the palm of her free hand, she couldn't help but laugh a little. Unfortunately, she soon winced when his cold fingers ran over the center of her palm. While most of the burns had already faded away (what was up with that?), the middle of her hand carried the brunt of her injury. The skin, still fiery and chapped, burned beneath the tip of Percy's index finger.

Even though she'd never admit it aloud, she found his worry endearing. It was downright cute, if she were honest with herself.

Because she wasn't necessarily superhuman, she continued to feel the pain from her visit to the Underworld. She was pretty sure she had opened up a few of the scars on her back during the fight with Ares, and swore she felt the blood pouring down her back. Her legs and arms were scuffed up due to the several falls she had suffered. At Santa Monica, when it had begun to rain, some of the precipitation had generously healed her more serious wounds. The pain of her ribs had soothed into a dull ache, and she knew her chest was bruised.

Her face was no longer bleeding, but she knew it couldn't possibly be a beautiful sight. She was sure any minute now Percy would really catch sight of her and ditch her to sit next to someone prettier. Thalia thought of Sally Jackson. She had sworn not to leave her behind again, so why had she? In the back of her mind, she knew it would have been impossible to escape the Underworld with the woman, but she blamed herself. If she had known Kyler planned to break her out the first time, she would've made sure that Sally was following close behind.

Zeus held grudges. He could've saved Percy's mother, but he chose not to. Why would he want to save a lover of his brother? Unfortunately, immortals tended to hold things against their rivals for lifetimes—courtesy of their eternal existence. Honestly, Thalia didn't see how the gods could do it. Even though she'd like to think otherwise, she was surprisingly resilient. She sprung back quickly and overcame her grudges in the blink of an eye, often forgetting them in the process.

"What happened to you?" Percy asked out of the blue, his eyebrows furrowed in obvious concern. He looked over her appearance, and to her surprise he didn't cringe in disgust. "In the Underworld," he clarified. "What happened to you? What did they do to you? How did you escape?"

Thalia allowed her fingers to toy with his, her cheeks turning slightly pink when she recalled his earlier compliment. She wasn't looking forward to explaining her misfortune, but her heart was unintentionally warmed by his sense of compassion.

"Hades threw me in the prisons," she began, turning her gaze to their hands. She busied herself with soothing the tense skin of his fingers. "I don't know if he permitted it or not, but the ghouls—the soldiers that had aimed weapons at you three—took it upon themselves to punish me. I was flogged mostly, but they did enjoy tossing me around every now and then."

With every word, his face grew more and more stern. He was failing to hide his frustration and distress, but all of his attention lingered on her words. Nodding for her to continue her story, he took a sip from the water bottle in front of him.

"I'm not going to go into too much detail," she said. "I don't know how much time had passed—"

"An hour," Percy filled in. "You were gone for an hour, in our time."

"Hades sent someone to fetch me. Thanatos," she continued. "Death, as you probably know him. Thanatos bound my hands, and placed a gag in my mouth before escorting me to this strange arena. My head was placed on a makeshift block. Thanatos was about to slice my head off with an ax when—"

"Ax?" the son of Poseidon suddenly interrupted. "Ax? Oh, come on. Death does not have a freaking ax." Shaking his head, he scoffed. "That's just wrong."

"It sounded like an ax!" she argued. "Besides, you think it's easy to chop off someone's head with a scythe, when their head is on a block? That's just wrong."

"It was a scythe."

"It was not a scythe."

"It couldn't have been an ax, Sparky."

"You weren't even there, Kelp Head! How would you know?"

"I know the tales about Thanatos. He doesn't use an ax." Percy rolled his eyes dismissively, as if his statement had somehow settled the pointless argument. "Duh."

"Have you ever met him?" Thalia challenged.

"Well…no, but—"

"My point exactly. Get your head out of whatever fairytale book you're reading, and shut up!"

"There are no fairytales about Thanatos," the son of Poseidon snapped in reply. "And, I don't read fairytales, anyway."

"Not even the Little Mermaid?"

Percy glared. "That's not a fairytale. She's a Disney princess."

"Sure it is. Once upon a time—"

"Is there a problem here?" a female voice called. The woman sitting in the seat in front of Percy had spun around during their argument. The redhead flipped a lock of hair from her eyes and raised her eyebrows threateningly.

"Hey, I own this freaking plane!" Thalia scoffed, running her free hand through her short, unkempt curls.

The redhead grimaced in confusion, and the son of Poseidon chuckled. "No, you don't," he said, glancing toward his demigoddess friend with a wide smile. "The airport does."

"Technicalities," the daughter of Zeus mumbled under her breath. "I could own it if I really wanted to…blast it right out of the fuckin' sky. Nothing says ownership like plunging 3,000 feet—"

"Damn it, Thalia!" Percy cried, squeezing her hand. "Stop that! You're worrying me."

"Is little Percy scared?" the daughter of Zeus teased, cooing to him as she would a small child. He pouted, looking away from her. She couldn't help but grin, finding his expression adorable.

"Listen, punks," the woman said, scowling. "I'm having a bad enough day as it is. Shut up, before I call airplane security."

Thalia looked around frantically. They had a security force on the plane? What good would that do them? Were they going to throw her out of the freaking thing if she started a fight? Straightening out the collar of her leather jacket, she allowed herself to relax back into the seat.

The daughter of Zeus turned her steely gaze to the upset woman, a smirk dancing on her chapped lips. "You won't have any further problems with us, ma'am," Thalia assured, her voice taunting. She couldn't help it; it wasn't in her blood to obey and conform to the desires of others. "Scout's honor."

"Whatever," the woman sneered, turning around in her seat. "Filthy vagrant."

"How cute, she thinks she's won," the demigoddess mumbled to herself.

Percy shot her a look of warning. "Don't do anything to get us kicked off."

Thalia pretended to be shocked by the assumption. "Why, I would never!"

"Thalia."

"All right, all right," she agreed, sighing heavily. "Fine. I'll be good."

The son of Poseidon flashed a little smile. "Thank you," he said, his facial features contorting in an almost ridiculously prideful expression. Thalia couldn't help but laugh at his silliness. "I'm sorry for interrupting you earlier. It's your story, so he must have whatever you claim he does. Would you mind continuing?" he asked, giving her that irresistibly charming half-smile.

Smiling smugly, the daughter of Zeus shrugged. "Sure," she said after a moment of silence. "I heard my father's voice in my head, telling me to look alive."

Percy's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah," she scoffed. "Confused me a little, too. Then, I realized much later on, that he was actually warning me."

"Warning you about what?" the demigod asked, snickering. "About the…scythe being two inches from your head? Kind of a late warning, if so."

Thalia took a slow, deep breath. Fixing him with a serious stare, she scowled. "Don't start that up again." He mock saluted, trying not to laugh. Despite how much she wanted to be angry, she couldn't. She found herself laughing a little also. "Anyway," she continued, "he was actually warning me about Hera."

"Hera?" her companion repeated. "As in, Queen of the Gods?"

"No, as in Queen of Scots. Yes, Queen of the Gods."

Percy snorted. "Loser."

"Whatever," Thalia brushed off his comment, knowing he was only jesting. "She showed up, practically handed Hades his ass on a silver platter, and then poofed me out of there."

"Poofed?" the son of Poseidon mocked. "I've never been poofed before."

"It's a strange experience."

Percy cleared his throat. "So…you're all right now?" he asked, almost timid. "I mean, are you still hurting? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I've never been to a hospital and I'm not going to make a habit of it now."

Hospitals wigged her out, big time. She'd rather be limbless and riding a unicycle off the Golden Gate bridge than be stuck laying in a sterile bed for weeks, aimlessly staring at the surrounding white walls. Besides, there was no reason for her to go. Even if her injuries were severe, she would just have to toughen up. It would be onerous to make an unnecessary stop while questing.

"But, do you need to go?" he asserted again. He obviously wasn't appreciating her contumacious act. "Thalia, your health is just as important as anyone else's."

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "I don't need to go to a hospital. Really. I'm fine."

"If you pass out—"

"Which I won't."

"—I won't stick around to—all right, I'll probably catch you." He flashed her a smile.

Thalia blushed, but maintained her outwardly headstrong attitude. "I don't need you to catch me if I fall."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said, smirking. "The ground'll do that for me."

Even though a huge part of her wished to maintain the amusing, comfortable setting, she knew there were more important topics that needed to be discussed. She had been wondering quite a few things, her thoughts spurred on by events in the Underworld. Thalia turned to examine him. He seemed almost relaxed, which certainly surprised her. Then again, she realized, she wasn't exactly jittery either.

The daughter of Zeus felt at peace, for the first time in a long time. She had been perpetually bitter since her younger brother's supposed death. Yet, with Percy next to her, a calm sense of relief washed over her. She could rest. She could "take five," so to speak. Without letting her fears or misfortunes burden her, Thalia found herself relatively happy.

Shaking off her thoughts, she squeezed his hand to gain his attention. "The Prophecy you mentioned in the Underworld," she said. "What is it? What are the lines of it?"

"Why?" He looked suddenly defensive. He obviously didn't want her to know the lines of the Prophecy. "Why does it matter?"

"It influenced you to believe I had turned against you," she reasoned. "I think that's as good as a reason as any."

"Fine." Percy sighed, meeting her eyes bravely. He reached into his pocket and dug out a small slip of paper. It wasn't in the most sanitary condition, but it was somehow legible. The son of Poseidon passed it over to his female companion. "I wrote it down a while back," he supplied. "Just in case I somehow forgot it. I don't have the best memory."

Nodding, Thalia accepted the note. Her eyes scanned over the filthy paper. It was in English—unfortunately—so she had to struggle to decipher the messy script.

You shall go west and find the dog—wait, that read god—that has turned,

You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned,

You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,

And you shall fail to save what matters most in the end.

Thalia let a soft sigh escape her. "So, I'm guessing you thought I was the second-to-last line. The friend who would betray you, right?"

"Originally," he said hesitantly. "Yeah."

"Originally? What do you mean?" she inquired. What had changed his mind? Besides her popping out of nowhere at Santa Monica, that is.

Percy visibly swallowed. Taking a deep breath, he began to trace the back of her hand with his fingertips. Thalia nearly shivered from the feeling. Butterflies restlessly raced in her stomach. "The last line…I had always thought it meant my mother. But, when Ares said you were dead—that you'd been killed by Hades—I was beginning to think it was talking about you."

Thalia didn't know what to say. It wasn't often she found herself speechless, but she all of a sudden did. Unfortunately, whenever she couldn't think of anything to say, she tended to speak whatever was on her mind at the time. Sadly, she was about to make things ten times as awkward.

"I want to kiss you."

Her words didn't fully sink into her mind until Percy glanced up at her in shock. Silently cursing herself, she bit her lip worriedly and observed any further reaction from him. Even though she had not meant to let the confession slip, Thalia had never been one to retract a truthful statement.

"What did you just say?" he asked incredulously, as if he was convinced he had misheard her.

"I said I want to…uh, start singing the blues," she mumbled pitifully. She really hated her impulsiveness at times. I don't want to sing the blues, she thought to herself bitterly. Idiot.

Percy continued to stare at her, unblinkingly. Thalia shifted uncomfortably, choosing to glance at the people across from them. An elderly couple began arguing over a bag of peanuts and eventually ripped it apart, causing the snack to pour all over the floor. When the son of Poseidon remained silent, the demigoddess cleared her throat.

"They should clean that up," she said, breaking the awkward silence. "Peanuts on the floor is never a good thing. They can, like, grow…bacteria and—and it's not good for the carpet at all. Say, what kind of carpeting do you think they—"

Suddenly, something landed against her lips, effectively shutting her up. It didn't take her long to realize that the something had been Percy's mouth. Not giving herself time to blush or pull away, she began to respond to the innocent kiss. It wasn't her first kiss, and hopefully not her last either, but she found herself nervous. She was slowly becoming reacquainted with the act. With Percy, it was a lot easier than it could have been.

Their lips were chapped, and Thalia was pretty sure one of the cuts on her lip opened. She was hoping he wouldn't pull away. He was clearly new to kissing, but he wasn't particularly sloppy. His kiss was tender and sweet and a million other things that made her heart all but melt beneath her breast. His lips were surprisingly soft.

The kiss was over too soon for her liking. She was almost convinced she had imagined the entire thing. Almost.

The son of Poseidon pulled away, slightly breathless. He flushed a dark crimson shade and opened his mouth repeatedly like a fish lying on grass. "I—I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Thalia wanted to argue that whatever came over him was definitely a good thing, and he should lean forward to kiss her again. However, she didn't want to come off as too pushy or clingy. Shrugging, she made a few nonsensical sounds and turned to face the window. Never letting go of his hand, she began to ponder the day's events. Two months ago, she never would've thought she'd be kissing Percy Jackson. Impossibly, they had grown close in the span of a few months.

Turning to glance at him again, she was surprised to see he was already passed out, mouth agape. Allowing herself a small smile and an eye roll, she relaxed against her seat. While she had no one to talk to, she figured she might as well try and get some rest before landing in New York.