I'm borrowing song lyrics for this chapter title, and to some degree as inspiration for what happens. I've come to better appreciate the power of music, I suppose. Not to mention I've been helped along by a nice stream of reviews. Thanks

Disclaimer: I don't own Class of the Titans. If I did, someone would realize that there are other Titans in the world, and a generation before them. Wouldn't it be neat to see Uranus suddenly appear, trying to get back at Chronus?

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Flashlights and Explosions

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Aphrodite, in all her divine glory, stood framed in the kitchen doorway, hands firmly on her hips. In all his time as her student, Neil had never seen her anything other than happy. But at this moment, she looked almost livid.

"I said, get away from him." Her voice was calm, nearly hiding the edge that clearly said she meant business. "You have no right to play with someone's emotions. Especially Neil's."

The blonde was somewhere between relieved and mortified. Of all the people he could have expected to appear in a flash of heroism, Aphrodite was at the bottom of his list. However, given the circumstances, he wasn't complaining. Entirely. Some damaged piece of his pride lamented the appearance of his mentor right when she was proven right in regards to his love life choices.

Galen took a half step backward, releasing his hold on both of Neil's wrists but keeping a firm grip on one. "Goddess of Love and Beauty," he said, eyes sweeping over her. "I admit, I never thought you would play savior."

She shrugged, a momentary lapse into nonchalance. "What can I say? I'm protective of my favourites." Aphrodite took a few steps toward them, skirting the counter in her way. The goddess nearly scowled as she got a better look at her student, nearly naked, faint shadows suggesting themselves under his eyes. "I'm really not supposed to get involved," she said with a hint of a frown. "So if you let him go, I'll let you run back to Chronus in one piece."

"That's very gracious of you, Aphrodite. Really. But I'm afraid he's mine." Galen jerked Neil's arm suddenly, sending the blonde tumbling into his duplicate's waiting embrace. "Besides, I don't think you can do anything. You Olympians have a non-interference policy that prevents any big acts of magic, don't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, loathe to do so. The decision on Hera's part had seemed like a good idea at the time, and the heroes so far had proven themselves to be self-sufficient. She drew closer, hands dropping from her hips to hang uselessly at her sides. "But I hoped there was a shred of humanity in you."

Galen laughed suddenly. "You hoped that maybe I really love him, that true love conquers all?" He ran a hand roughly through Neil's hair. "How can a statue feel love?" he asked bitterly. "This isn't a fairy tale."

Aphrodite's hand flashed, striking Galen squarely across the face with a resounding smack. He reeled backward from the blow, his nose bent at an impossible angle. Neil struggled out of his duplicate's grip, stumbling toward his mentor. She spared a moment to pull him into a brief half-hug, then urged him toward the door.

"Go," she said, returning her attention to Galen. "The others need your help at school."

Neil hesitated, casting a last fleeting glance toward his mirror image. Then, he turned and ran.

--

Odie frowned. He had expected a lot more from the school's science department than what he found waiting for him in the dark storage room. Instead of the electricity models he had hoped for, he found lemon clocks and simple circuits cluttering the shelves. Either the budget had been cut, or everything was set up in other classrooms, which would probably be locked, if they had time to search them all in the first place. The thinker sighed, looking over what he had to work with. He was rummaging through a box when he heard a shout and a crash from the Physics room.

Banging his head sharply on an overhanging shelf, Odie whirled toward the sound. He grabbed the first thing that could be used as a weapon and crept slowly toward the door. A second crash caused him to jump, weapon waving wildly, into the room with his version of a manly, primal yell.

Three heads turned toward him. Archie, face contorted in a mixture of pain and anger, lay awkwardly against a wall, two desks knocked over around him. Herry and Theresa stood over him, the former with his fist raised in what was meant to be a final blow. Odie glanced at what he had grabbed – a large flashlight – and felt horribly inadequate.

"Um, hey guys," he said, attempting to break the heavy silence. "Did Archie make another bad joke? Is that why you look ready to kill him?" Odie chuckled nervously. "Because otherwise I'd think you aren't who you seem to be, and that means I'm in trouble."

"Odie," Archie growled, "get out of here. You can't win."

Theresa took a step closer to the thinker, smiling. "If you just give up, winning won't matter." She held out her hand. "Give me the flashlight and sit next to Archie. Everything will be okay."

The descendent of Odysseus shook his head. "I don't think so." His grip tightened on his weapon as his eyes flicked around the room, looking for anything that could tip the favor to his side. Think, he urged himself. There's always a way out. Odie gritted his teeth. "I'm not going anywhere without Archie," he said, crouching into what he hoped was a ready stance.

"Be reasonable, Odie," Herry said. "If you fight us, you'll only get hurt. We both know you aren't a warrior." His lips twisted in a smirk as he glanced at Archie. "Neither of you are today."

Odie waved the flashlight slightly. "I'm not helpless." He edged toward one of the lab benches next to the door to the hall. Predictably, Theresa moved to match him, cutting off any hope of a clear path out of the room. Thankfully, the hero wasn't planning on running. "I'm not helpless," he repeated, lunging as if to make a break for it.

Instead of pushing past her, Odie stopped short and swung the flashlight like a club, catching Theresa off guard with a blow to her shoulder and knocking her stumbling into the hall. He quickly grabbed the door and slammed it shut, twisting the crude deadbolt.

"Look out!" Archie called.

The thinker turned just in time to meet Herry's fist, glasses twisting off his face to clatter across the floor. Odie shouted in pain, hand darting up to cover his eye as he fought to recover his balance by backing up. His side caught the edge of the bench and his feet were no longer under him. He heard something crash beside him and roll across the floor. He was lucky it hadn't landed on him.

"You should have played nice," Herry said, reaching down and knocking the flashlight from Odie's grasp. "But you chose the hard way."

"Hey, Herry." The brawny hero turned to face Archie. The warrior aimed the nozzle of a fire extinguisher squarely at the duplicate's chest. "You're the one who should've known better." He squeezed the trigger and released a wide spray of wet foam.

If he expected a bellow of outrage, Archie was disappointed. Herry took a few staggering steps toward him, reaching with an arm quickly losing color and cohesion. His legs sagged and he toppled to the floor with a soft gurgle as the chemicals in the foam fizzed savagely, reacting with the clay.

"Whoa," was all that Odie could say, holding his head and staring over the bubbling mess at Archie. He groped for the flashlight and climbed slowly to his feet.

A sudden pounding on the door caused them both to jump. "Let's get out of here," Archie suggested with a grunt, using a chair to pull himself upright. "Is there another way out of here?"

Odie nodded uncertainly. "There might be. If one of the classrooms adjoining the store room is unlocked… But there's no guarantee."

"It's worth a shot. Let's go."

--

"Do you mind filling me in on what we're doing?" Atlanta asked as another silent minute ticked by. She watched the beaker, full of acid, slowly come to a boil with a soft murmur of bubbles. Jay cracked open one of the bottles they had grabbed and took a sniff, quickly jerking it away again at the smell. Atlanta recoiled herself as the unpleasant smell of vomit reached her. "And what is that?"

"Butyric acid." He poured nearly half the contents into the heated acid. Almost immediately the smell increased, causing both heroes to choke and pinch their noses. "Usually," Jay said, "we don't use this stuff because of the smell. But today I think it's perfect."

Atlanta rolled her eyes. "Perfect for what?" She was getting tired of being left out of whatever crazy idea Jay had in his head, not to mention the leader was beginning to seem something like a mad scientist from the movies, playing with chemicals.

Jason's descendent smiled. "An ester. They're artificial smells, like what makes air freshener smell like flowers." He reached for the third bottle and double checked the label. "We're going to make pineapple."

"So our plan is to attack Chronus with the smell of pineapples?" She was incredulous and really starting to wonder if being a leader without a group to lead was affecting Jay's mind. "I don't think that's really going to help us, unless he's allergic or had a bad experience in his childhood." Atlanta was fairly positive that neither would be the case, and Chronus would probably be happy to have the stale school air freshened up.

"Ye of little faith," Jay chided. He poured only a small bit of the third bottle and then tentatively took a sniff. From the expression on his face, Atlanta guessed it still smelled pretty bad. "Perfect." Jay coughed and covered his nose and mouth with his sleeve. "We're all set."

In spite of her better judgment, Atlanta released her nose in order to smell the finished concoction. She was quick to pinch it shut again in the face of a stink that maybe, if the smell of vomit and cough syrup could be ignored, smelled like fruit. "Ugh, gross." She waved her free hand frantically. It even left a bad taste in her mouth. "I think I'm beginning to understand. Chronus certainly won't like that."

Jay chuckled. "I'm afraid we won't have a delivery system like the one Archie rigged, but this should do the trick." He held up a classic Erlenmeyer flask complete with stopper.

"Leave the rest to me," Atlanta said with a wicked grin, an idea forming in her mind. It was time for her to take charge.

--

"I think we've lost them," Herry said, peering into a darkened classroom. "And it's gotten awfully quiet since we left the art room. You'd think Chronus would have realized we escaped by now or something."

Theresa, keeping a subtle eye on Pam, shrugged. "He's probably gloating to some of the Neils about how he's managed to split us up and stop the prophecy. The usual nonsense." She leaned against a bank of lockers, trying to collect her thoughts. In the absence of Jay, it fell to her to take charge. Her focus fell on the artist. "So, Pam, what exactly is your story? If you tell us, it might give me some idea on our next move."

Pam glanced at her guardedly and then turned away, continuing to walk down the hall and forcing the two heroes to trail after her. She drew up short suddenly near the gym, turning on them so quickly that Herry jumped in surprise. Her eyes were swimming with unshed tears.

"He took my brother," she said quietly. "He took my brother and told me I had to work for him if I wanted any chance at getting him back." Her hands flew out to gesture wildly at the halls, now only damp from the sprinklers. "So I did this. And as terrible as it is, I don't regret it."

The two heroes could only stare. Herry managed a weak, "Oh," before falling silent, not quite knowing what else he could say. Theresa felt a sympathetic urge to hug the other girl and to promise that everything would work out in the end. But she hung back, watching Pam pull herself together and turn away.

She pointed at the gymnasium door. "Chronus told me to meet him here once everyone was captured." Her voice wavered only slightly.

"Maybe we can spring a trap," Theresa said brightly, trying to turn the situation around to a positive light. "And then we can fix things." She glanced at Herry.

"I'm up for it," he said. "So long as I actually get a chance to hit something."

The fighter was about to start voicing her ideas when a muffled bang cut her off. The two heroes exchanged a glance and then took off, racing toward the sound of the small explosion. A shout of pain spurred them on. They skidded around a corner and nearly collided with Atlanta, who clutched at a ragged gash in her shoulder. In front of her stood Chronus, scythe raised, and partially drenched. As he turned to face the new arrivals, they were hit with a wave of something indescribable. Theresa gagged reflexively and Herry fought to keep his lunch down. Pam, wisely, plugged her nose and retreated.

"You'll pay for this," the Titan said darkly. He fingered the small ribbon of blood on his blade with a grim satisfaction, an image that was ruined by a bout of coughing. Chronus quickly pinched his nose and stepped back from the pieces of broken glass scattered at his feet.

"What's going on?" Theresa asked, holding her own nose. "Atlanta?"

The hunter let out a held breath in a woosh and fought to keep her face straight as she inhaled. "We were hoping to distract Chronus with the smell and regroup but he caught me off guard." She glanced at her shoulder briefly and then met Theresa's eyes. "It was Jay's idea," she said.

As if on cue, the leader appeared in the hallway, a crude bandana made from his sleeve worked around his mouth and nose to block out the stench. He caught sight of Theresa and Herry and paused as if to raise his hand and wave. But something else caught his eye, something behind him. Jay quickly started running toward them, shouting something muffled by his sleeve. Theresa barely registered the grey lumpish shapes that lurched into view behind him before one managed to snake out a hand and catch the descendent of Jason by the back of his shirt. He was jerked backward.

"Jay!" Theresa shouted, running toward him. Chronus stepped in her path and a swing from his weapon brought her up short. She hovered just out of reach, watching helplessly as what was left of the Neils swarmed Jay. She suppressed a shiver at their many hands and sagging faces.

Herry was beside her. "What do we do?" he asked.

Chronus smiled. "You watch as your beloved leader suffocates, naturally."