Hey, guys, I know I haven't been updating a lot (sorry), I'm just trying to write the chapters fast enough to give them to you, but then I got caught up in a few ideas I think you guys will LOVE, but they're not for this story (cough, yet, cough). I'm overwhelmed with all the ideas I had for this one getting tangled with the ones I mentioned earlier, so it's just a big confusing mess. I managed to finish this one for you, though, so happy New Year, guys. 2011 (and me) gives you a present \/

15/

Percy's POV

I woke up in the infirmary, buried under a mound of blankets—yet still shivering my butt off.

Miranda Bowman and Hannah Duran, daughters of Apollo, hovered over me anxiously, murmuring to each other in hushed tones. I couldn't hear what they said. Hell, I couldn't hear anything over the annoying buzzing in my ears.

I blinked hard. My vision was foggy.

Miranda's face suddenly appeared above me. "Percy?" Her voice was muffled. It echoed painfully. "Percy, can you hear me?"

"Mmph," I mumbled.

"Go get more blankets, Hannah." The blonde figure at the end of my bed ran off silently. I felt Miranda's warm hand on my forehead. "Are you cold?"

"Mmph," I muttered again.

"Listen, Percy, you were frozen, okay? We defrosted you an hour ago."

"Miranda, here are the blankets."

"Thanks." Miranda draped me in more electric blankets, and I felt a rush of warmth.

I blinked, clearing the annoying blurriness away. I tried to sit up, but she only pushed me back down. "You're staying here, stupid," she said sternly. "I know that you're used to getting your own way 'cause you're the son of Poseidon, but if you think that now, you've got another thing coming."

Somehow I knew I couldn't argue with her.

"What..." I blinked again. "What time is it?"

She barely glanced up from the machine, her fingers tapping absentmindedly with the beat of the slow beeping for a second before she said, "What?"

I was about to repeat what I said, but Hannah reappeared next to her. "Miranda, the council meeting's about to start," she murmured, flicking a nervous glance at me.

"Council meeting?" I sat up. "I'm going."

Miranda frowned. "No you're not. Hannah, keep him here while I'm gone. I'll be back within the hour." She gave me a warning look, then walked quietly out the door.

Hannah checked the machine Miranda'd left only seconds before. "Your vitals seem okay," she said. I had to strain to hear. Her voice was barely above a murmur.

"When can I leave?" I demanded.

She glanced at me. "I don't have the authority to say. I'm healer-in-training."

I sighed. "Can I at least have some water?"

She sighed, but got up. As soon as her back was turned I bolted for the door. My legs felt like lead, but kind of good in a weird way, like I was using them for the first time in eternity.

"Mark!" Hannah yelled. "Tranq him!"

I had a few seconds to think, Huh? before something hit my shoulder—and I found myself face-down on the floor, inches from the doorway. I couldn't move a muscle. Damn, I thought. So close.

Hannah leaned down to look at me, slipping in and out of blurriness. I was already seeing double of her.

"Told you."

"Percy."

I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to talk to her. I could almost feel her rolling her eyes at my choice not to answer. She poked me.

"Percy."

"What?" I snapped.

Thalia scowled at my tone. "Just wanted to see if you were awake, grumpy." She grinned. "I heard Hannah had to shoot you."

"Shut up."

She smiled, but it slipped away slowly, like she had just thought about something bad. Suddenly she looked like the old Thalia, the one who used to run with Luke and Annabeth back when they were all runaways. "Look, I just wanted to talk to you."

"Should I be worried?" I couldn't help but make a slight joke. If I'd learned anything through my years of knowing Tony, it was that humor could pretty much cure anything. That thought sobered me. Tony.

Thalia chuckled lightly. "Not this time, Kelp Head."

"Yeah?" If it wasn't something pain-related, what could it be? Thalia Grace was definitely not the touchy-feely kind of girl. "Shoot," I said, a little wary.

Her expression suddenly became unreadable. "Well, while you were out the Council decided on a plan." She paused, as if she were correcting herself. "Actually it was Anna who did it-without consulting the Council."

Again, the knife in my heart twisted at the sound of her name. "Is she okay?" I asked hesitantly.

Thalia bit her lip. "She's fine," she assured me. "It's just...the plan she came up with. I'm worried about her."

I raised my eyebrows. "You? Worried? I didn't think that was even possible."

She glared. "Can you be serious?"

Coming from Thalia, that was a warning. I decided to pay attention. "Fine," I said. "What did she do?"

Thalia looked me in the eyes, and I saw in hers that she was telling the truth; she was worried. That wasn't a good sign.

"Remember Eris' apple?"

Annabeth's POV

Alice paced back and forth across the wooden floor of the Big House living room, looking tired, but slightly upset.

"What were you thinking?" she asked us.

Tatiana and I exchanged looks.

*flashback*

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Tatiana's brown eyes flicked back and forth nervously.

I knew she probably didn't want to do what I asked her to do. She was still trying desperately to fit in here at camp, because, even though she temporarily sent Anastasia, her own sister, to Tartarus, people still weren't sure they could trust her. She probably knew what we were planning wasn't about to score her any points with the campers.

"Yes," I said, a little irritated. My plan was pretty much foolproof. She could trust it. She could trust me.

"Okay," she caved easily. "Do you have it?"

I unwrapped my jacket to show her Eris' prize possession. The apple glittered in the dim, fading light, and though it was weak, I felt the urge to take it. I shook my head. "Ready?"

Tatiana nodded, biting her lip. "Don't look at it," she murmured.

I closed my eyes. I heard her sigh quietly. I felt the small pressure of her hand on the apple, and heard her muttering in a language I didn't know. Instantly the apple got hotter in my hand.

"Don't look," she reminded me quietly.

I squeezed my eyes closed tighter. I stood up and chucked the apple with all my strength and blind aim—right into the Order's west camp.

"Take THAT, Morneau!"

*end flashback*

"I was helping," I emphasized. Tatiana stayed quiet.

Alice's green eyes were so much like Percy's it hurt to look at them. Instead I dropped my gaze the floor. She put a hand to her forehead. "Well, it's not all bad, I suppose. You did cause considerable damage."

I smiled to myself. Damn right I did. Morneau never saw it coming.

Alice sighed. She stopped pacing, her hand falling to her side. "A week of washing dishes for the both of you," she sighed. Her tone clearly meant we were dismissed.

Tatiana got up immediately to leave. I went more slowly, so I was able to catch Alice's "If we live that long."

That bothered me, and I tried to shake it off, but I knew she was right. I just had my hand stretched out to catch the door Tatiana left swinging when Alice called, "Annabeth."

I paused, turning my head slightly so the left side of my head faced her. My eye caught her knowing, wry expression.

"Be careful."

Her eyes dropped to my torso. She knew. The thought brought an immediate scowl to my face. Damn. How many more people had to find out before someone besides me blabbed to Percy? My hand clenched on the side of the door, and I left the room without a word.

Of course, I barely stepped out of that mine field when another jumped out at me.

I found Summer Todd waiting for me outside the Big House door.

I breathed a sigh. "Hi, Summer."

Her frown didn't waver. "You're becoming very irresponsible, Annabeth."

"So?" I retorted.

"And angry," she continued. She studied my face. "You have to stop."

I laughed. The sound was so wild, so out of control, it scared me. Summer was right, though it hurt to admit it. What is wrong with me?

I didn't realize I was on the ground until Summer sat beside me.

"You're scared, that's what's wrong with you," she said.

Damn, I didn't think I said that out loud.

Summer didn't look at me. She didn't say anything. I think that's what always made her a good Oracle. She never questioned things, just accepted how they were. Never judged, simply went along with whatever future she saw without bothering to wonder how it would happen, or even stopping to think who that future might hurt. A model spirit of Delphi.

"Yeah?" I said finally. My voice had taken on a bitter tone. "And what exactly am I scared of?"

There was a pause.

Sometimes it surprised me, the way she perceived things. How she knew everything about everything. Sometimes it made me shudder, imagining just how much knowledge Summer Todd held on her shoulders. Sometimes I imagined it as the weight of the sky—which I know all about, trust me—or sometimes I thought of it as a depressing burden, watching the misfortunes and deaths of the people around you but not being able to say a thing.

From Summer's expression, she knew exactly what I was thinking about. But if course she said nothing.

Instead she said, "You're scared of death."

I almost laughed again. Death? "I know death far too well," I said.

She frowned ever so slightly, letting me know she wasn't finished.

"You're not scared of dying, really, or death," she said vaguely. "You're scared of what he can do."

He? Summer was talking in unintelligible riddles again, just like she used to. Did she mean Hades? Thanatos? Or simply dying, just as a noun? I was so deep in trying to untangle her knotted-up sentence I almost didn't catch what she said next.

"Of who he'll take."

My hand flitted to my stomach instinctively. I was sure Summer knew. Knew everything.

Yes, I'm certain she knew all along.

Tony's POV

Penelope's hair is like silk.

It's soft, shiny, slips through your fingers like air. Long, too. Almost to her waist. I think that's a trait Demeter kids have. Good hair.

"What are you thinking?"

The question jarred me. My fingers froze in her hair. No one ever wants to know what Tony Staphili is thinking. I'm almost never asked that question; I'm more used to bottling it up inside, keeping it all to myself. So Penelope's out-of-the-blue inquiry had me frowning in confusion.

"I guess..." I began, then hesitated. What was I thinking? I had just decided on the war and was about to say so when I caught the scent of honey. It was hers, the one that clung to her clothes, her hair, the air around her. "Jasie," I said immediately, recognizing the smell.

Before I tell you what happened next, let me tell you something about my girlfriend. Penelope is good at hiding pain. Anxiety, anger, frustration, not so much. But she never liked to show hurt. She saw it as a sign of weakness.

So it came as a little bit of a shocker when I was suddenly staring into Penelope's intense brown eyes, filled with hurt and...something like pity. But mostly hurt. You see my fear now, right? If Penelope shows pain/tears, the world might as well explode.

I flinched instantly at the look on her face. "What?"

Her expression rippled, first in surprise, then anger. "'What?'" she repeated my words back to me. "'What?' That's really what you say?"

I pushed myself back from her. "What do you want me to say?" I demanded. "What do you want from me, Penelope?"

Her face crumpled. She jumped to her feet and whirled away, but I caught her hand, almost too easily.

"What?" I said again. "What do you want?"

"I want you to forget about her."

The sentence was only a whisper, but she might as well've slapped me in the face.

Her eyes searched my face for something, then dropped to the ground when they didn't find whatever they were looking for. "See?" she said quietly. "You can't even say anything." She seemed reluctant about it, like all she wanted to do is run, but she raised her eyes to meet mine. "Tony, she's dead. All you're doing is hanging onto her. Your grip's so tight—it's all you're focused on. You barely even look at Cadmus anymore." She hesitated, then added, "Or me."

I tried to get a word in, but she was only taking a breath.

"And even when you're doing nothing, you'll get this look on your face—and I know you're thinking about her. You'll say her name in your sleep, flinch when someone brings her up, and you're actually surprised we're having this conversation right now—like you don't think it's a problem. You're scaring me."

That's when she ran out of steam, stared at a spot over my head. "I just—" she stopped, as if she was correcting what she was about to say. "I just want you to love me."

And I just wanted to say something—anything that would make her feel better. But that was when I realize: there was nothing. No witty joke to ease the tension, no loving sentence to reassure her, not even a denial to solve the whole damn problem. No words at all.

Her hopeful face was suddenly obliterated. I opened my mouth to say the first thing that flew through my clueless mind when Cadmus's crying broke the haze between us. She turned away again, a tear slipping down her cheek, and this time I didn't stop her.

I sat down, long after she'd disappeared inside Cabin Four, my mind reeling. Penelope and I had never had a fight. Not like this. I didn't even know she knew about Jasie.

Jasie...

What Penelope was asking...it was kind of impossible, to me. I almost threw the thought away. But I started to wonder. Was Penelope worth it? Did I love her enough to give up the thing I'd been holding onto for so long? Did I even love her?

Yes, I decided. I did love Penelope. I knew that much, at least. But how much? And at what cost would I get her back?

I bit my lip. Penelope is all you have left, I told myself. Can't afford to lose her now.

I found her rocking Cadmus in an aimless daze, wiping tears from her face like she hated them.

I was lucky she couldn't hear me over Cadmus's wailing or she probably would've hit me. I grabbed Cadmus from her. "Quiet, you," I told him. He shut up. I put him in his crib.

Penelope looked distressed when I turned to face her. "Tony—"

I kissed her.

"I know you don't want to talk," I said when I pulled back. "But I have to tell you the truth. I will never be able to let go of Jasie completely. She will always be the one to own my heart first. I'm pretty sure she still has a piece of it in her fist down in the Underworld."

Her mouth opened, probably to tell me to get to the point, or maybe to leave her alone, but I cut her off. "But what I'm saying is it belongs to you now. You can do whatever you want with it—I probably deserve it. I'm an idiot, Penny, no matter how cliché that sounds. I'm sorry."

I pressed my lips to hers for another second before going for the door, planning to let her think on it. She seemed frozen, and I didn't blame her. But I stopped at the doorstep.

"I love you."

Nico's POV

I sat with my head on my knees.

The fight down below hadn't stopped ever since Annabeth threw the apple. They'd all stared at it—monsters and Order members both—for a couple of seconds, then complete chaos. Megan Morgan and Damien Morneau were the first to slash a few monsters out of their way and make a beeline for the little apple, eyes gleaming with what looked like madness. Then it'd turned into a mass riot, which was pretty fun to watch.

For a son of Hades, that is.

"Enjoying the show?"

I turned, expecting Annabeth, or Thalia, but it wasn't either of them. It was a girl I'd never met, but judging from her strange violet eyes and hangover expression, she was from Cabin Twelve. I tried to remember her name. Diana? Allie?

I got it just as she sat down next to me. Alison Bernard. She'd never spoken a word to me before. She was a background person; I remember seeing at the back of the rows at the campfire or amphitheatre. It was weird I even knew her name.

"Guess so," I said finally.

There was a pause, then, "How did you do it?" Alison's eyes were trained on the riot, but her attention was on me.

"Do what?" I asked.

"Survive." She pulled her knees up to her chest, looking like a child. "The war, I mean."

Oh. She meant the Battle of Manhattan. The fight with Kronos' army. Blood and weapons and sheer violence. Death. I almost didn't know how to answer. "You just...try," I told her. "There's not much else to war. You try to win. Try to keep the enemy off your back. Try to keep your loved ones safe." Thalia's image popped up in my head as I said that.

Alison didn't say anything for a minute or two. Then she looked at me, her lips turning up in a thin smile. "You're cute, you know."

That jolted me. I looked up at her in mild shock, but really I wasn't surprised. I have that effect on girls.

"Alison!" Someone called her name in the distance.

She got up and dusted off her jeans. She paused before she left, turned halfway to look down at me with a mischievous look on her face. "I bet she thinks that too." Then Alison Bernard was gone in a tiny cloud of dust.

Weird girl, was all I could think. Never said a word to me in all her and my years at camp, then just plops down and blurts out a sentence enough to confuse even me.

Who was she talking about? Were there other girls who liked me or something? I tried to think. Natasha from Cabin Ten, Leila from Eleven, Bonnie from Seven. At least, that's what I heard.

Natasha always winked at me. Leila smiled in that Hermes way that means I'm gonna steal your stuff so you'll pay attention to me. Bonnie watched me sometimes when I was in the same general area as her and blushed whenever I met her gray-eyed gaze. And Alison was one of them, I guessed. I mean, she did say I was cute.

Then there's Thalia…who drove me nuts, who made me feel clumsy and awkward, who could set me on fire just by looking me up and down. Could she be the one Alison was talking about?

I pressed my hands into the grass, clenching and unclenching the mud/feeble green slivers there.

I didn't know anymore. I felt like I didn't know anything anymore.

The whole world was in chaos. The mortals could now see through the Mist—which had been a side effect of temporarily sucking Hecate's power into the battered little music box a few years back—and there was yet another war, and Annabeth was both knocked and messed up, and...Thalia's the only thing that really calms me down.

That's right. Thalia. Thalia Grace. Thalia Rowena Grace.

I growled to myself. I even knew her middle name. How did I know that? I recalled a distant memory of Annabeth babbling. Something about Thalia's messed up mother admiring a famous Rowena something… Queen? No, King, that's it. Rowena King.

Ugh, there's another thing. I even care about her middle name. Who cares about middle names? Thalia definitely doesn't; she hates hers. I did a mental face-palm. There's yet another subject. I actually know she hates her middle name. Grr.

Only when the ground starts shaking under me do I look down—and realize my hands were glowing with black energy. Again. I gritted my teeth, pushing the almost uncontrollable power down, but it's like trying to plug a hydrant. It keeps bubbling back up endlessly.

By the time I finally forced all of it away and my hands stop glowing, I was panting. I fell back on the hill, hyperventilating.

Damn these new powers.

"Thanks Dad," I muttered.

Well, is it the baby hormones, or grief that's making Annabeth act weird? Will Penelope Miller accept Tony's heart-felt apology? Will Nico ever admit out loud that he actually likes Thalia? What other crazy events can I dream up? Check back next time to find out...