When Max was roused up the second time, a great deal of time had passed. His eyes opened to a orange-sunset sky and a sun setting in a way that made it look to be sitting just above the boulevard. The sun itself was surrounded by a pretty cherry-blossom pink that Max thought made it look somehow brighter, more powerful. Everything still ached - not a dull ache either - but the taste of blood felt less present, less evident. Almost like a memory. The scratches and bites on his arms and legs, however, still felt fresh and raw. His jack-hammer headache still pounded with a rebellious resistance, like, 'I'm not going to stop! You can't make me!' but sleep had quelled it's severe intensity to a muted lull. Present and accounted for, but less so than before, good sir. His ankle was numb, which wasn't a good sign. He forcibly willed his other foot to brush up against it, to make sure it was still there. Yep, still there, just asleep maybe. Oh, he'd be hopped up on the meds for months with those kind of wounds. Probably a cast for the ankle. He tried to remember what they called that demigod medicine, the kind the Gods eat. Amber? Ambronia? What was it ... maybe he'd remember later.

He fought the urge to sit up, remembering the nausea and increased headache that would follow, so instead turned his head to side to see Nico sitting on the street curb, sharpening his Stygian blade. Max's thoughts wandered to where Nico got a sweetblade like that, but he shook it off and instead asked - his throat still only allowing minuscule sound to come out - "Nico? What time is it?"

Nico, again starteled by Max's intuding on his thinking time, said, "I don't know, I don't have a watch. You should go back to sleep, those wounds are still pretty fresh."

"I'm tired of sleeping." The irony didn't strike Max as funny, just annoying. "Besides, it'd be better to get off the sidewalk, don't you think?"

"We're fine. The hotel's so shrouded with magic, the mortals can't even see you lying there. Unless you want to go to the hospital, my vote's with the street corner." Max realized Nico was right. Nobody stopped to help him, or even take a picture of the guy beat-up on the street. It was like he wasn't even there. Nico too, if you were you counting. Nico then looked back to Max, realizing what he had said. "Do you want to go to the hospital? I could drag you out of the magic-zone-thing, and people would freak and call 911. They'd take you away on an ambulance, if you like."

"You don't have a phone?" Max croaked.

Nico smiled oddly, "What're they teaching you at that camp, anyway? Demigods can't have phones, monsters pick up on your scent like your calling them."

"Really? Why?"

Nico shrugged. "Probably something to do with the signal it gives off. Did you want to try going or not?"

The pain would be executing - being dragged with all his cuts and scrapes - but then again, the doctors could give him some meds to clear up his head. Then there's the fact that he wouldn't be lying on the cold hard ground. "Alright, go ahead and try."

Nico stood, sheltered his sword, and started shouting, "Help! My brother, he - help us please, nice lady, help him-"

"Uh, what are you doing?"

"Working up a sob-story, duh." Nico cleared his throat and continued yelling, "Somebody, please! My brother- oh God, please help him!"

Max figured Nico was doing that because he didn't know when the magical barrier ended and when the mortals would start seeing. Nico carefully picked Max up by his armpits and slowly dragged his limp (by choice) body down the walk-way, screaming all the while. He found himself in an ocean of all kinds of pain, wave after wave of it seizing him. The pain seared at his scratches and cuts, and his jeans never felt so thin. His head boomed louder with it's outrageous banging, rejoicing in it's flourishing power. He hadn't noticed before, but sweat and blood made his shirt cling tightly to his torso, which rubbed up against those pink tears in his skin only irritating them further. (His hair stuck to his forehead some, but that didn't bother him in comparison). Every possible ache, ached, he thought. He wondered how he got so beaten up without being killed. I mean, if it was that monster-Nico, why would it even hesitate? Was there something Nico hadn't told him?

Max nearly blacked out from the pain, but something kept him conceious. Wheather it was Nico's screaming or his insistent thoughts, he didn't know, but something kept him up.

People finally started noticing the kid dragging the corpse, and there was a panic. Trepidation filled the minds of passers-by and before he knew it, Max was being hauled away in an ambulance. Thank the Gods for mortals and their phones.

Lying in the bed of the ambulance, with Nico sitting off to the side, Max had a thought. A single thought, mind you, but one that spiraled off into multiple directions and gut-wrenching emotions. I'm dragging him down with me. Nico would have to stay with him there, and then at the hospital for Zeus knows how long. He'd be forced to nurse him, and Nico wouldn't be able to hold up his half of the plan to stop Percy. Max'd be holding Nico back. A burden.

A pang of guilt seized his stomach. He couldn't do that to Nico. "Nico ... go back to the Lotus." Max told him hoarsely.

Surprise took Nico under. "What?"

Max swallowed, "Go back to the Lotus and wait for Percy. You didn't want me to come along in the first place, you warned me. About everything, and you were right. I shouldn't have come. You have to go and stop Percy, that's what you were supposed to do."

"What about you?"

"The doctors'll fix me up. I'll be fine, just go." Max told him firmly.

Nico studied Max's wounds, then asked quietly, "Can I ask you something first?"

Max was caught a little off-guard, but said, "Sure, anything."

Nico formulated his words, then asked, "Did Hades ... I mean, what did you mean when you said he wanted you to protect me? Was ... was there a reason we were in the Underworld, when you shadow-travelled us?"

"What? Look, that was a mistake. I'm new at this stuff, Nico, and I sure as Hades would never lead you to that pit on purpose. Second, Hades spoke to me in a dream just after we met. He told me you were considering treason, or something, and to look out for you. I don't know what he meant about the treason stuff, do you?"

Nico knew exactly what Hades meant. It meant that Nico was realizing the truth- that he hated Hades - and Hades hungrily wanted his servant to return to him. Hades wanted control over Nico, and he could sense his authority was wavering, and wanted Max to serve as his spy. Keep him updated on whether or not Nico would actually turn on him. Nico's temper sparked, but he muttered listlessly in response, "No clue."

"Hades kept coming in my dreams after that, but he never said anything more than I was failing him. I guess that meant he wanted me to be there for you, but now ... the only way I can do that is by letting you go, so, please. Go."

Poor Max didn't see what was really going on. Such blind faith in their father was sure to get him burned when he finally realizes the truth. That's what Nico thought, anyway. He sighed, "Okay, Max."

Percy's form faltered. The beast-like state wavered in it's sure control, and Percy's weakened will tried to take advantage of that opportunity and infiltrate back into his mind. It fought back, but it's being fluctuated more rapidly, like a faulty hologram. Falling to his knees and clutching his head, Percy - the realPercy - screamed. It surged through his veins, it controlled his mind, it was everywhere. Desprete, he willed himself to edge further into his own mind, but it had it's tricks. A little something or other up it's sleeve saved for just such an occasion. A surge of thunderous power rippled through the plains of the subconscious wiping out the entire fleet of Percy's retaliating will. He slipped away further - another part of him lost.

Percy tried to force his way back in when he realized it was his own mind he was taking back. Something about the fact that he had to fight for something that would normally be so unquestionably and solidly his, would've formed a lump of alarm in his throat if he still had control over it. This was his mind. His body. It was his. Even that disease, it was his infection. He couldn't be outmatched in his own head. Simply impossible. He used to delve into it an loose himself in imaginary worlds there when he was a kid. He used to formulate plans to defeat monsters twelve times his size. He used to reside in that body so naturally. It was his. And he wanted it back.

He tried gripping with his hand. Slow, painful, but surely he gripped. Percy willed his other hand out of it's control as well, forming a trembling fist over and over. His feet were a harder bse to capture but after he blocked them off from it, he could move them semi-freely. Arms, legs, much of the same, just bigger weapons they battled with.

If it could think, it would be along the lines of: Control wavering. Not good, no, can't happen. Tremors in authority, simply can't be, no, definetly not. Whole being rupturing, power dissolving, NO. Block out, MUST - NOT - PERISH. DESTROY THE BOY. Will ... not ... no, can't ...

Percy derived it completely from his mind, however temporary that state might be he was in control. Soundly and solidly in control. Shaking fiercely, Percy writhed forward toward a nearby creek. The creek wasn't big enough for Percy to submerge himself in completely, but a good percent was under, and Percy's strength returned. He splashed the water on his face shakily, relishing in the cool feel.

He stood, and judging by where the creek was started in the direction of the Lotus. After all, he couldn't give up that easily.

Thalia kept her eyes ahead. She figured if she ignored the fact that she was up that high, it'd be easy. No such luck. Quaking stomach, trembling hands, and fear-frozen mind. It'd been like that for hours, days, months, she couldn't tell for certain, just a really, reallylong time. The only thing to do up there is concentrate on the wind blowing against your skin (Pass. Reminds her too much of the blowing air beneath her), check out the view (Again, pass), or rationalize your decisions. Trouble was, hes weren't looking so sound.

Following Percy was one thing, refusing to go back was another. Both idiotic, on different scales, if you had to rate them. Thalia replayed her conversation with Annabeth over another couple times, trying to get the tones of voice right.

"You see, this is why I can't stay mad at you."

"Ditto."

"... So, you're coming back to camp?"

"I didn't say that. I admit it's stupid, but I have to get Percy. It's simple as that." Thalia said blatantly.

"WHAT?"

"Oh come on, Annabeth! I know for a fact you'd do the same thing, and you know it, too. We might not have a lot of time before he goes haywire, or goes in that casino and never walks out-"

"Yeah, we don't have any time. Look, Chiron told me that ... y-you three could very well be dead right now. It's a lot to explain, but Thalia, you're in danger as much as he is, and we need you back at camp. Please. Before anything happens, you need to come back."

Thalia shook her head, "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Why?" Annabeth whined. She sounded like a seven year old Thalia once knew, one she sometimes thought she heard but turned around to see a different friend.

"I thought I just told you, I just have to. He ... he'd do the same, the idiot. I'll bring him back in one piece, I promise. Just give me time to kick his butt all the way back."

Annabeth rubbed her temples, "No, you see, you're not listening. Just listen to me closely, alright? You will die if you keep going. Death, you know the word death? Good. Now repeat it back to me."

Thalia grumbled in reply.

"Good. Now please, for the love of the Gods, COME BACK TO CAMP!"

"... Goodbye, Annabeth." Thalia told her both disconnecting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did she do that? She panicked, that's what it was. Wasn't sure what to do, so relied on her gut feeling to make the decision. But now she was thinking it made the wrong one.

If she dared to actually look down, she would've seen the trashed beach area of Palacois Bay. Black Jack came in for landing and when he hooves hit solid ground, Thalia jumped off and lay - her arms spread out a far as they could go - as if hugging the ground. "THANK ZEUS! I am NEVER leaving the ground again."

BlackJack whined something like, Hey, there was barely any turbulence! That was a quality flight!

Thalia got up and told him, "Thanks, BlackJack. I guess I owe you carrots now."

And oats for all your complaining. BlackJack negotiated, even though she couldn't understand him.

Thalia servyed her surrounding for the first time. The place was blocked off by police tape, and their was a giant crack in the sand that lead down to who knows where. It washed over Thalia with a sad realization, "We're too late."