Dreams always suck after you go through the apocalypse.

Even good dreams suck because you wake up remembering better, more peaceful times that will never come back, or that will never be rebuilt, or worst of all, you dream about people you'll never see again.

Mine was a nice little mix of all three.

I was in my old apartment, but not really, it was kind of like I was looking in on my apartment, like I was out of my body watching sitcom or something. I shuffled into the kitchen, and yawned, the sound eventually dissolving into unhappy grumbles.

Paul was already seated in the kitchen, ever the early riser, newspaper in hand and coffee on the table. He perked up, lowered his paper when he heard me, and smiled mirthfully. "And here I thought Sally said the only thing that could get you out of bed before seven was the jaws of life."

I mumbled something I couldn't even understand and flopped into the chair across from where Paul was sitting, draping myself onto the table. My perspective suddenly shifted to my own body, earning me a lovely view of the table.

"Rough night?" Paul asked eventually.

"Ugh." I breathed out as long as I could.

"That bad, huh?"

"Couldn't sleep at all." I groaned, heaving myself up and leaning back in my chair.

Paul set down his paper, all of his attention on me now, eyebrows furrowed. "You know, if you're not feeling well, you could always just go back to sleep."

I waved him off. "I'm fine; just couldn't sleep. It happens."

He sighed, running his hand through his hair, and dropping it back to the table, tapping impatiently. After a pregnant pause, his shoulder slumped. "I know you have an english test today."

I tensed. Paul wasn't my teacher. Since he was my stepfather, he wasn't allowed to be my teacher under any circumstances due to my school's rules, but he was close friends with my english teacher. I knew that, unfortunately, I was a topic of discussion between the two of them. "Yeah," I ventured cautiously. "I do."

His mouth thinned into a line, looking just a little hurt. "You were studying late, weren't you?"

I shrugged.

"Then you couldn't sleep well because you were worried about the test." He reasoned.

I shrugged again, and I could feel my cheeks go red. I wasn't used to this sort of thing. Paul hadn't been married to my mom for very long, not even a year, and I was still adjusting to the change. Don't get the wrong idea, Paul's great, he's good to me and my mom, but it's still new territory for me. I've never had another parent. Well, there was Gabe, but he was barely a human, much less a parent.

Paul toyed with his coffee cup in the uncomfortable silence, and I fidgeted, drumming my fingers on my thigh, suddenly filled with nervous energy.

"Percy," He sighed. "I know that me moving in and marrying Sally was… sudden," That was true. It had only been seven months after the proposal that they had gotten married, and Paul only moved in with us after he had proposed.

I shook my head at him. "You asked me first, and I'm still cool with all of it. Things are better this way." It was true, when I had turned fifteen Paul had pulled me aside after my party and asked if I'd be alright with him proposing, which I was. Paul made my mom happy, the fact that we got along well was a bonus.

"Right, well," He scratched his cheek idly, not quite looking me in the eye. "despite that, I know that this is a big change for you, and I just want to be sure that you know that, if you needed it, I'm always willing to help. Not as a teacher, but as, well, you know, as your, ah..."

"As my parent?" I completed for him, unable to hide a small, amused smile.

Relief flooded his face, and he laughed. "Yes, that." He leaned in closer, like he was about to tell a secret. "It's not technically against the school's rules for me to help you study as your parent." He leaned back, his expression softening. "You can ask for help, you know. I've had a lot of students far less motivated to overcome their dyslexia than you."

I looked away, if only to distract from the overwhelming sappiness of this awkward stepfather-stepson moment. "I know. It's just, you've already helped me out with it a lot, and-"

"And nothing." He interrupted, and pointed at me. "I didn't expect a few tips and tricks I've learned over the years to cure your dyslexia. Every book is different in terms of syntax, and vocabulary, and it will affect your dyslexia differently. It's certainly not a matter of an inability to understand what story the words are trying to convey, your analysis skills are excellent once you can grasp the material."

"Yeah, you've mentioned. Like, fifty times now, or something." I grumbled, and shot him a half smirk to show that it wasn't necessarily unwanted. I took whatever compliments to my intelligence I could.

"Fairly certain It's been closer to thirty, but, I didn't get a degree in English because of my proficiency at math." He smiled down at his coffee, like he was telling an inside joke with someone who wasn't here, my mom, probably.

"But, about that test…" Paul said as he scrutinized me, his mouth twisted like he was thinking hard. "I don't think you'll do well on it if you fall asleep during it. I know I've never awarded bonus point for a student drooling on my papers, at least."

I scowled. "I don't drool."

"While you're conscious, no." He teased, "But, I think that at this point, it's stopped becoming a matter of being worried about an English test to an actual problem of your health. There is a flu going around, and going into school with a weakened immune system is begging to spend the next few weeks bedridden."

I blinked at him. "Are you telling me to not go to school?" A teacher was telling me to not go to school. Granted, he's also my stepfather, but still.

"You can make up the test another day." He reasoned, as he took a swig of his coffee. "Your attendance is good for this quarter, so you won't need a doctor's note. Plus, I'd rather you miss one day of classes than see you suffer through this year's flu. I've heard some horror stories already."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. As tempting of the idea sounded, I was hesitant. "Couldn't you get in trouble for lying?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you feel well?"

"Well, not really, but-"

"Well then I'm not necessarily lying, now am I?" He said like it was the simplest thing in the world. "So long as I don't say you were sick, then I'm hardly responsible for how the school interprets me saying that you weren't well enough to attend school." He gave me a wink.

I sometimes forgot how similar Paul could be to my mom at times. Just like her, when he found a rule he disagreed with, he didn't break it, or ignore it, but rather, he moved around it, breaking it in spirit, but never actually breaking the rule. It was quiet, but still rebellious.

"Percy?"

Paul looked over my shoulder, and smiled softly. I turned around to see my mom, radiant as she ever was, even in the bathrobe and heir hair a tangled mess. She covered a yawn with her hand, and walked slowly into the kitchen. "Morning, Mom." I gave her a weak wave and smile.

She pursed her lips, walking right up to me and placing the back of her hand on my forehead. "Percy, are you feeling okay? You're up so early, and- oh, you're so pale!" She leaned down to face me, her eyes searching my face like it would tell her my secrets for me.

"That would imply he went to sleep in the first place." Paul cut me off before I could speak. "I think I'd be alright for him to skip school, just this once."

"You couldn't sleep?" She turned to me, her face creased with worry.

"Test." I mumbled, and shrugged my shoulders like I hadn't just spent most of the night unable to sleep because of it.

"Percy, Paul could have-"

"We already talked about it, dear."

My mom blinked, not even bothering to hide her surprise, and gave Paul a look. He just smiled. After a beat she got this proud look on her face, along with something else I didn't quite recognize. She left my side and leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips.

"And that's why I married you."

"Coffee kisses?"

She smacked him on the shoulder playfully.

I groaned. Just because I was happy with their relationship didn't mean they had to rub it in my face. I was a teenage boy, after all. "I'm gonna go back to sleep." I announced as I stood up from the table.

"I have to go talk to my publisher today, you'll be alright on your own, right sweetie?" My mom asked.

"Mom, I'm just tired."

"Famous last words." She sing-songed.

I rolled my eyes and turned back towards my bedroom. Maybe now I could finally get some rest and deal with the test tomorrow.

"Oh, Percy?" My mom called out from behind my back. I stopped in my tracks and groaned again, just to be difficult.

"What, Mo-" I turned on my heels and my voice choked out when I realized the whole scene of my dream had changed.

I was staring at a locked window, looking into the kitchen, mom and Paul still there side-by-side, and my mom was talking, but I couldn't hear her. I looked down. I wasn't wearing pyjamas anymore, dressed in street clothes, I found myself standing on the fire escape of my apartment. I was suddenly aware of distant shouts and the smell of smoke. The whole dream was tinged orange.

"No," I whispered, and banged on the window. My mom and Paul looked no different, just looking at me expectantly, like they were waiting for me to say something. The smoke got thicker, until I could see it, and heat started choking the air around me.

"No!" I slammed my fists into the window with all my strength, but they bounced off like it was made on concrete. the smoke and fires were closer now, I could feel them. I could hear the cracking of the flames as they got closer and closer. "Mom!" I shouted, my voice spluttering into a cough, choked on the smoke.

Shadows started to fill in the room, wandering about like a crowd, making it harder and harder to see my parents with each passing second.

The fire escape beneath me suddenly disappeared, and I tumbled backwards, the whole dream going pitch black with the exception of the window I was rapidly falling away from. My perspective was ejected out of my body and I could see myself falling.

I screamed as I plummeted into the darkness, going down, down, down, down, all they way. I should have hit the ground a long time ago, but I kept falling. Voices started to fill in the roar of the wind in my ears, until it was only a whistle on my ears.

"Are you an orphan?" On mocked in my ear.

"It's the end of the line." Another echoed from behind me.

"Lost, lost, lost- you cannot find it, it's hidden." A third yammered from above.

I tried to shout at the voices, but no sound came from my mouth.

"Pathetic."

"We've told you for the last time-"

"You will fall!"

"All this… worthless junk."

"Who gave you the right to live?"

"Little man from the bottom of the well…"

"Just. One. More. Step."

Finally, a voice that sounded familiar in a way I couldn't place on a singular person echoed above all the others.

"What a waste."

Something somehow darker than pitch black swallowed me, and I woke with a start. My head banged against the headboard as I startled awake.

"Fuck!" I swore, and shot up in my bed. I cradled my pounding head with my hands while I tried to slow my breathing down with what felt like a cinder block caught in my throat.

Yeah, dreams suck.

I hoped oats and honey only tasted like ash after eating them for three consecutive weeks, because as far as peace offerings went, it was as good as I was going to get. I took in a deep breath, straightened myself, and knocked on the cabin door.

The cabins looked different in the morning light, mine especially. Without the long shadows of dusk to steal away the little imperfections of the cabin, I had to wonder how they were still standing.

Cracks littered the windows, though none were broken, they looked like they'd break if you leaned against them even little. The door looked like it had taken several beatings, just barely attached to the hinges, and I don't think Mrs. Burtshulk's scaly twin did it any favors last night, either. There were more shingles missing from the cabin than I originally thought, some in large chunks, making the whole cabin looked like a half-plucked bird. The whole thing looked fragile, like the slightest touch would collapse it like it was a house of cards.

I stretched out, lifted my hands above my head, my fists clenched just enough so the granola bar in my hands wouldn't break. Even if there were more in my backpack, less had survived yesterday's fiasco unscathed than I originally thought.

I knocked on the door again after a minute of waiting. I knew that there was absolutely no way for her to be gone by now. She was pretty well set up in my cabin from what I saw last night, and if that wasn't enough, she was injured. It was going to be at least a few days before she'd be good for long-distance walking with her leg like that.

Or, she's just ignoring me. I huffed and tapped my foot a little impatiently. I looked around, trying to quell whatever need ADHD filled me to stay occupied mentally. Too bad there wasn't much to look at. The sea still looked uninviting and cold, old montauk highway was barren and riddled with slightly more potholes than usual. I think I might have seen a tabby poke it's head out of a bush a while's off, but I blinked and it was gone.

My patience quickly waning, I banged on the door, leaving it shuttering. "Annabeth," I yelled at the door. "I know you're in there."

No answer.

Oh, bullshit. I banged on the door harder, until it shook on the hinges, and I was certain I'd break the thing clean off if I hit it any harder. I was getting ready to shout again when the door shook of it's own accord, and I realized I wasn't the only one knocking. I let the door knock on it's own a few times before it finally went silent.

"Annabeth…?" I asked the door.

"Who else would it- ugh, never mind," I heard her growl from the other side of the door. Somehow, I think her mood might have actually gotten worse from last night. Great. "Just quiet down before you attract every monster on Long Island."

I rolled my eyes and sighed quietly. I'd take the monsters in a heartbeat right now. The only time the two of us ever seemed to get along is when we were both in mortal peril.

"What do you want?" I heard her call from the other side of the door, which, of course, he didn't bother to crack open so we could talk like normal people.

I scowled, patience already worn thin and still in a shitty mood from my nightmares. I leaned up against the door so I could better hear her muffled voice. "Oh, not much, I was just wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar for the pie I was about to bake, what do you think? I want to talk."

"We aren't talking about your stupid idea anymore."

I took a deep, slow breath. Charming as always, Chase. "I'm not here for that. I'm just here to talk about the Greek stuff."

The door stayed silent and motionless, and I shifted awkwardly on my feet. The silence stretched, and I began to wonder if she had just left me standing like an idiot in front of the cabin door. "And, uh, I have granola bars! I was thinking, maybe you might be a little hungry, well, everyone's hungry, but-"

The door creaked open, and revealed a very impatient-looking Annabeth, slightly supporting herself with the door to keep weight off her injured leg. I swallowed whatever words were in my throat as she scanned me, and she suddenly cringed.

"What on earth did you do to your facial hair?"

My hand went up to my face and I could feel heat creeping into my cheeks. It wasn't that bad, was it? "Trim it."

She scoffed. "With what? Your pocket knife?"

"Uh,"

"Di Immortales, How are you still breathing?" Her nose wrinkled as she fixed me with a funny look, which I returned.

"Di immor-" I shook my head. "Whatever, alright? Can I come in, or what?"

She gave me another once over, before extending her hand out, palm up. I blinked and stared at it for a second before I heard her clear her throat and I looked up to see her staring at me expectantly. "The granola bar?"

"Oh, right." I tried not to sound deflated, but it didn't really work. Chase had this weird aura about her that made me want to at least look a little bit smart, and I couldn't help but feel like the exact opposite was being made true. I placed the granola bar in her hand, and tried for a weak smile.

She was having none of that though, and quickly shot me one of her unfriendliest glares yet. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands and I quickly wiped the smile off my face in place of clenched teeth.

She inspected the package in just about every over-paranoid way I could think of. She searched every inch of the wrapping, held it up in the light, shook it around, and even smelled it. After a solid minute of obnoxious sleuthing of her's grating on my already thin patience, I opened my mouth again, "It's not poisoned, opened, the expiration date isn't for another five years, and it's oats and honey flavor. Just figure out if you're gonna eat it or not, already."

She arched an eyebrow at me, unimpressed, and opened the wrapper without breaking eye contact. She pulled out one of the granola bars, broke off a piece, and offered it out to me. "You first."

Anger surged through my body as I snatched the piece of granola from her hand and shoved it into my mouth. I crunched on the granola bar and swallowed before opening my mouth to show it was gone.

"Happy?"

She shrugged, broke off another piece of granola, and threw it in her mouth. "A bit dry." She said, eventually, but threw another piece of granola into her mouth anyways.

I shrugged. "It's food."

She made a noise of agreement and continued to slowly eat my peace offering, wordlessly I fidgeted in my place, constantly shifting my weight around, and generally not being subtle with how impatient I felt at the moment, allowing ADHD to fuel my movement. My the time she had finished the first granola bar, and I was certain if I had to stand at the doorway for another second without talking, I would burst, she folded up the wrapper around the remaining granola bar, and pocketed it.

"I'm surprised you're back," She said. "the way you left last night rang fairly final, what with you punching the cabin on your way out."

I tried not to cringe. That was far from my finest moment. "I wasn't having a good day."

She quirked an eyebrow at me.

"Unrelated to the snake woman." I said belatedly. I didn't even consider talking about the day I had before getting to the cabin. Chase was, well, Chase, and a stranger. Just because I suggested we stick together didn't mean I had forgotten that.

That only seemed to make her more curious, but if she thought much of it, she kept it to herself. "Most don't like being referred to as myths, first of all, that's a good way to make them do anything from attack you to turn you into a pile of ashes, or some sort of animal, depending."

I stared blankly at her.

She looked upwards, and took a deep breath like she was trying to keep her patience. "Monsters, gods, various other, quote unquote, myths."

"Oh." I said, dumbly. After a beat, I gestured to the interior of the cabin. "Can I…?"

Her eyes sharpened and her lips puckered like her words tasted sour to her. "The second you bring up that stupid plan of yours again, I'm kicking your ass out and the door is being barricaded, no matter what monster is nearby."

I shrugged a shoulder. "Fine… but, the offer stands." I added quickly.

She narrowed her eyes, but spun on her heel, and walked back into the cabin with a limp in her step. I followed, closing the door behind me. The morning like filtered into the cabin and gave it a milky glow, making it feel a little less broken down and a little more welcoming, even with torn and overturned furniture littering the room. I noticed a pile of jewelry on the floor, oddly lacking in yellow powder.

"What happened to the snake woman, anyways?" I asked as I followed her into the kitchen and watched as she sat herself down at the table, taking extra care to settle her bad leg in slowly.

"Dracaenae." She corrected.

"Yeah, so, what happened to the snake woman, anyways?" I repeated as I sat down at the chair across from her.

I heard her tsk harshly. "Are you always this impertinent?"

I waved her off. "It's a feature. So, the snake woman, what happened to her..." I paused, briefly wondering what to call the pile of gold dust her and Definitely-Not-Mrs-Burtshulk left behind. "Remains."

She shook her head, with one of her fingers pressed into her temple like she was getting a headache. "The gold dust eventually scatters, even in closed environments, it's the basis of their physical being, so it has to return to them eventually."

I frowned and furrowed my brow. "Return to them? But she's, like, dead, right?"

She gave me a weary look that almost bordered on sympathetic, but oddly it didn't feel like it was directed at me. "They're not," She sighed, "Monsters can't be destroyed, only killed."

"There's a difference?"

She opened her mouth. "Well-"

I buried my face in my hands. Of freakin' course there's a difference.

"- Monsters' essences cannot be destroyed, but their physical form can be killed by either heavy wounds caused by conventional means, or a solid hit with a celestial bronze weapon. When their physical forms die, their essence returns to Tartarus to re-form."

I peaked out from behind my hands. "Tartarus? that's like, Greek hell, right?"

She bit her lip, as she mulled the question over, before answering, "No, the closest thing to what you're probably thinking of is the fields of punishment. Not many cultures have an equivalent to Tartarus, but it's basically the equivalent of hell for monsters. They like it about as much as we would.

I must have made a face, because her stoicism flickered for a second in place of something a little more amused. "Don't piss yourself. Monsters take a while to reform, most need a few years, but it varies depending on how they were killed and how powerful they are. They won't be back for years."

I was about to let out a sigh of relief, when her eyes suddenly go far away, her face grim. "Probably," She adds.

A beat. I swallowed thickly and cleared my throat uncomfortably. "Probably?"

Her hand went up to her mouth distractedly and she bit down on her pointer finger. "That's how it's always worked, at least. I don't know if things are different since…" Her eyes set on mine, like she reminded herself that I was still here, and she still hated me, or whatever. "Since things changed, the system could have as well. It's only been 4 months, and without proper records, there's no real way to tell…" She trailed off, leaving me alone in the cabin as she wrestled with her thoughts.

After a good minute of letting her think, I realized that she'd probably be like that for hours if i didn't remind her I exist. I'm so off her radar, it's almost funny. "But, they're not going to show up, like, right now, right?"

"Don't be ridiculous, that would never happen." She murmured absentmindedly, but I didn't think she really considered it.

I slumped against the table, and propped my head up with my arm, suppressing a weary sigh. Great conversation. Feeling so reassured about Greek monsters looking to kill me while not being killable themselves. Instead I just tapped a finger absentmindedly on the table and used the lull as a chance to look around the room.

It was largely the same as it was last night, but now that it was daytime, I could actually see everything, and more than a few things stuck out to me. I could see an aluminum baseball bat propped up against the sink, and went I focused on it, the image of a sword briefly flickered in it's place. I didn't see Chase's knife anywhere, but I got the feeling it was close by.

I had expected that the cabin would have been stripped clean, but I noticed a few odd amenities on the kitchen counter. Oddly there was a big-ass bottle, at least a liter, of concentrated lemon juice sitting on the table next to some papers and what looked like it might have been a pencil, but I wasn't so sure from my vantage point. Aside from that, it was barren, and a little dirty, but it still felt like the old cabin I had come to love. Still felt like home.

My expression darkened as my mind continued to drift, back to that dream I had this morning. It hadn't been the first, and I doubted it would be the last. I'd been having similar dreams of varying intensity ever since everything went to hell. Always about Mom and Paul, always about that day, and always ending with me falling down into something colder and darker than a pit.

My eyes settled back on Chase, still lost in thought, and I couldn't help but wonder if I was remembering right when I thought I had heard her in my dream.

A little motion caught my eye, just the lightest tremor to her posture, and I was suddenly acutely aware that she was tapping her foot in sync with me tapping my finger. I stopped immediately, oddly self-conscious and forcing back heat on my cheeks. I needed a better distraction.

"So how's the leg?" I blurted.

All of her attention fell back onto me with crushing intensity, almost as quickly, her walls built themselves up around her. "Fine." She snapped, "Why?"

I opened my mouth to make a smart retort, but caught myself in the nick of time, closing my mouth and holding her steely glare for a few silent seconds. After the silence was partially audible and painful, I opened my mouth again my voice deadly even. "I was just wondering. Considering how I gave you the means to take care of it-"

"I could have taken care of it." She said with a snort.

"Fine, whatever!" I put my hands up in mock surrender. "I just thought I'd be polite-"

"Polite? You? Ha. Don't you think it's a little late for that? First words you spoke to me were telling me to fuck off."

I blinked. Had it really?. "You really love interrupting me, don't you?"

She fixed me a dry look, but to her credit, stayed quiet.

I scratched the back of my head, feeling a little embarrassed in the silence. So much had happened that everything before the snake woman felt like a blur. Even the time when she stabbed me felt like it was a hazy, years old memory at this point, but somehow I doubted it was the same for her. I don't think she'd forgotten a single word that I'd said, and, if I was honest, that probably gave her the idea that I was an asshole.

My conscious nagged me to remember about the cowgirl comment.

Alright, top asshole. I could almost feel my mom jabbing me in the side and glaring at me like she wanted me to set things right between us, and in this cabin, that thought was too strong to ignore.

"Look," I started, but my voice died in my throat, and my eyes went to my hands. I coughed, and wet my lips before restarting with more force behind my voice, "I said some… things, that were kind of out of line, and, yeah, I had been having a rough day before I met you, and I wanted to just go back to my cabin to spend the night before moving on, but I guess that's no excuse. This place is important to me, I'm sure you already figured that out, and my mom- well, if she was here, she'd kill me if she knew half the shit I've said to you, and, even I know that some of the things I said were pretty uncalled for.

"And even if I was frustrated, that doesn't mean I get a pass, and, this hardly the first time that I've let my anger get the best of me, this one time-" I stopped myself short, realizing I had begun to ramble, and took a deep breath. "I was kind of a jerk. Do you think that maybe we could, I dunno, start fresh?"

Chase, naturally, had crossed her arms at some point and was giving me that analytic look that I was becoming increasingly frustrated by. "No," She said simply, "But the incredibly half-assed apology is noted, even if you didn't actually say 'sorry'."

My face fell to a oddly strong feeling of disappointment that I quickly brushed off, and replaced with a weak, but hopeful smile. "I'm guessing that it's too late to say sorry now?"

"Big time." She said with a nod.

I winced and ducked my chin. "Thought so…" I trailed off into a dull chuckle. Embarrassment was quick to flow into my face, so I swallowed and cleared my throat, eager to drop the conversation. "So, Greek my- Uh, Greek stuff."

"Greek stuff." she repeated.

"You were the one who said they don't like being called myths." I grumbled. "Anyways… you said all the stories were true, right? Like, all of them?"

"Not… entirely." She said carefully. "Don't expect every little story to be exact, far too many contradict each-other for anything like that, but generally, there's a basis for most things."

"Alright, but, the big stuff, that's all real, right?"

"Define 'big stuff'."

I swallowed uncomfortably. "The gods. Zeus, and Poseidon, and Aphrodite, all of them."

"Oh. Yeah, they're real." She said flatly. For whatever reason, she almost looked sad when she said it, but I couldn't fathom why.

A sudden rush of energy overtook me. Even if she had kinda mentioned it yesterday, there was something about her actually confirming the gods existed that made the tips of my fingers tingle with nervous electricity. "All of them? Even, all the little, weird ones, like god of spoons or something?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes kept darting up at the ceiling like it was about to cave in on us. "Yes, and you might want to be a little bit more respectful when talking about them." She said through grit teeth and a hard look.

My eyes drifted up to the ceiling she was studying. Somehow it had evaded me that if the gods were real, then they could probably kill me with a flick of their wrist and a bolt of lightning. I wondered if now that I knew they were real, any sort of disrespect would earn me the appropriate divine punishment. I gulped. "Right, no offense to the gods and all, but what have they been doing all this time? Just… hanging out in Greece?"

"Hardly." She answered like I had just told a bad joke.

I frowned. "But we don't hear about them anymore. Back in the m- stories they were all over the place, talking to humans and-"

"The gods are flexible." She interrupted, "They don't swear by any one particular human culture, they follow the pinnacle of western civilization. Be it Greece, Rome, Britain, or America, it doesn't matter to them."

I cocked my head to the side, confused. "Follow the what of western civilization? Actually, what's western civilization supposed to mean to begin with?"

"Did you ever open an SAT book or do a vocabulary exercise? Pinnacle is like, middle school vocab."

"No," I snapped, "I have dyslexia. Me, books, and words never really got along."

Her mouth opened in a perfect little circle. "Oh." She said quietly, and somehow found the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, 'Oh.'"

"Sorry."

I perked up, the bitter aggravation that ground against my gut dispelled by shock. Did Chase just apologize? "What?"

She kept talking like I didn't say a word. "I know it can be frustrating to have it shoved in your face like that." She caught the dumbfounded expression plastered on my face. "The dyslexia. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that normal people can just have it for whatever reason, but I guess it's just as bad for you."

I didn't know, or care what 'normal people' meant, because I was focused on what she just implied. It was a little shocking, she presented so… smart, or at least wordy, I guess, that I never would have guessed she had dyslexia.

"I- thanks. It's alright, just, been a while since anyone brought it up. I'd kinda forgotten about it a bit, honestly."

She stared at me, like she was trying to figure me out, before nodding slightly. "Anyways, simply put, they follow whatever culture best aligns with the the values of western civilization that started in Greece. Whatever culture best exemplifies human ingenuity and creativity and power, the gods will inevitably re-locate there. They've been in America for the past two or three hundred or so years.

"As for how they've gone unnoticed all this time, it's been a combination of the mist, and a change in how subtle they were. They still have an effect on the world around them, powerful ones, but the modern mortal is far less willing to attribute odd happenings to the gods, and the mist can only cover up so much before mortals begin to see through the cracks, even at it's full strength. But they're still doing everything they did in the past, just a little modernized."

It was a lot to wrap my head around. The gods had been in america for every three hundred years? It sounded ridiculous, but everything about Greek myths being real was ridiculous. "What the hell did they do all this time?"

Her lips puckered slightly at my question. "Where you even listening? I said they did everything they used to do. They influenced our society, interacted with us, guided us. The gods can take on any form they wish, so, in theory, you might have even met one."

"Everything, huh?" I whispered to myself, my face twisted in thought, and Annabeth looking at me half expectantly, half curiously. "Didn't the Gods have like, a lot of kids? Like with mortals and stuff?" I asked.

Annabeth immediately tensed up and her eyes widened, her stare nearly tripling in intensity, like a silent threat to drop the subject. But my mind kept turning toward the question, like it was close to the surface of the water and desperate for air. Why would she react like that? She's hiding something, I knew that, but what could she possibly be hiding? She would always clam up if the questions drifted to being about her, and now…

"Wasn't there like, a name for them or...?" my mouth continued to babble out question while my mind tried to work out the problem in front of me. My mind went back to the snake woman. They had mentioned they were looking for… demigods, was it?

"Wasn't it like demigod or something like that? That's what the snake woman called me just before she stabbed me with-"

My eyes widened, and it clicked.

My mouth opened wordlessly and like a floodgate had been opened in my mind, every single puzzle piece rushed perfectly into place. It was a crazy idea, but it fit perfectly with everything I knew.

The snake woman stabbing me with the celestial bronze sword like it would kill me, her calling me a 'demigod', Annabeth stabbing me with her her knife, even if I wasn't a monster. The very same blades that she said was for specifically dealing with myths. Annabeth never once used the word human when explaining how the mist worked, or how celestial bronze worked, she had always said 'mortal', like she wasn't. She asked me what I had seen her knife as, like she didn't see it as anything but a knife, her saying that all this Greek monster bullshit had been her life since she was born. I felt like an idiot for not putting it together sooner.

Her expression told the whole story, even though I hadn't even said anything yet. But she knew I knew. Her face was an unreadable, yet intense mask that confirmed my thoughts before her voice could ever had the chance.

My mouth suddenly felt dry, but I spoke clearly.

"Annabeth, are you a demigod?"

AN: Shoot for two weeks get a month. Eh. I spent a decent amount of that time setting things up for later events in the story (including wresting a certain rhyming couplet for a damn near week, if you catch my drift so I don't feel like I've wasted time at least. Also, I went back and did some editing and stuff to previous chapters, mostly the prologue and chapter 1, since they had some really standout errors that I needed to fix. I also made a significant change to the final line of the prologue, and I highly advise you go check it out if you've already the the prologue. I'm certain that a few of you will raise an eyebrow at the change, but rest assured, the endgame of this fic has not changed, only the amount of transparency I am willing to give has changed. those of you who got excited when they read that line will not be dissapointed. I will thank all of you who have read the fic prior to his chapter to be discrete about that factoid, as I'm certain future readers wouldn't like that to be spoiled.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm quite happy with it. I had to wrestle with the thing a big because I was having issues with scene flow progression, but i think i managed to cobble it together nicely. I hope Percy's realization doesn't come off as contrived, it was done in part because I realized that I probably shouldn't have 10+ 5k word chapters on them talking in a cabin nonstop, so I moved up the demigod question a bit.

I hope you all have a nice day!