Annabeth leaned over him, a small bronze dagger in one hand and swiped.

Jason caught her wrist and pushed it away. As she sat up, he rolled over using her weight as momentum and landed on top of her. She slashed at him again, this time coming away stained with blood. Pain stabbed at his brain and institutionally, his hand flew to his forehead. Annabeth used his distraction to pull her legs up and kick. Jason tumbled backwards and slammed into a wall. Grasping at the stones, he pulled himself up just in time to watch a silver blur whip past his eyes and bury itself into the building behind him. He dove down and snatched up his sword. The Quartermaster, now only holding a cutlass and a glare that could cut just as deep, stood beside Captain Jackson. He looked mildly impressed, but anger sharpened his features.

"You put up quite a fight kid, but you're not getting away." He said.

Jason didn't wait for him to move. He launched himself forwards, swinging with all his might. The attack seemed to catch Jackson off guard, but he held his ground and blocked the attack with speed and precision. Jason saw Annabeth backing up, but she didn't look afraid. She looked confident, like she felt that she was no longer needed. She was completely confident that Jackson was going to win.

She was right.

He swung with all his might, but Jackson had speed and experience, and though he hated to admit it, talent on his side. He blocked Jason's panicked strikes with amusement and when Jason managed to get in a shallow cut across his arm, his eyes turned stormy. In a whirlwind of metal and curses, Jason felt his sword flying out of his hands. A fiery pain shot through his arm and he could feel his flesh parting before a powerful kick knocked him back against a wall. His head snapped back, slamming into the house with a sickening crunch and he fell to his knees. Blood gushed down his arm. His head ached. Every part of him felt bruised and broken. He was finished. Terror filled his head.

"What do we do with him Captain?" Asked Annabeth.

"We kill him of course. The real question is, bullet or blade." The Captain cast Jason a smirk. "What do you think Blondie? Got a preference?"

Jason knew what he thought, but his tongue was like lead. Staring hard at the Captain, he tried to let his silence answer for him. Jackson just laughed and flaunted his sword. Jason flinched and tried to move his arm up but a sharp pain shot through him. He stifled a groan. Desperate, he reached up and clung to one of the boards.

Jackson stood back to watch him, but Jason paid no attention. He focused all his energy into pulling himself up, despite the flaring pain that ripped through him. He had to defend himself, he had to do something. If he was going to die, he was determined to die on his feat. Fighting until the final breath.

Through the haze of pain, Jason saw the Captain standing in front of him, sword in hand. He looked amused. The Quartermaster didn't look as impressed. If anything she was bored. The pure apathy set a spark of rage in Jason's chest. He felt the anger in his bones and took a step forwards. Immediately, he swayed and tightened*ss his grip on the wood to steady himself. Pain filled his senses. As Jason stood, he braced himself for the attack, but Jackson didn't move.

"If you're going to kill me, get it over with." Jason spat.

A grin spread across Jackson's face. "As you wish."

Jackson moved quickly and Jason flinched, closing his eyes. Every muscle tensed, ready to spring if it weren't for the burning sensation in his side. In the split second of life he had left, his thoughts wandered to Piper and Leo. He didn't know if they made it back, or if they were even still alive. Leo looked horrible and he knew Piper would never leave him behind. Thinking of his friends was what sent the hot tears spilling over his cheeks.

He didn't want to die.

"Percy, the chain." The Quartermaster whispered.

Jason could hear the footsteps stop. He didn't dare open his eyes. Although Jackson didn't say anything, Jason heard the distinct sound of someone sheathing a sword. Instead of relief, all he could think of where the different ways this could be a trap. The pain in his side was getting worse though, and his shirt stuck to the slick blood on his chest. Maybe the Captain decided he didn't need to kill him. Maybe he'd rather watch Jason bleed out on the filthy streets.

If he was going to die either way, Jason decided, he wanted one last look at the sky. As he hesitantly opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a pair of stormy, sea green eyes. Before he could process anything, Jackson slammed him into the building.

Jason cried out. Pain flared up from, his side. It was like he was being stabbed all over again. The rough wooden beams dug into his back. Jackson shoved his arm against his throat, not pushing so hard that he couldn't breath but just enough pressure to show that he could. The Captain's face was mere inches from Jason's. He could smell the smoke on his breath.

Keeping his eyes trained on Jason, Jackson trailed his fingers along the golden chain that hung from the back of Jason's neck. The Captain's fingers were cold despite the raging heat from the fires, Jason noticed. Without warning, Jackson reached down his shirt and pulled out the chain. His arrogant smirk was gone. In its place was a curious gaze.

"Now what do we have here." Jackson mused. "You were right Annabeth, he's got the mark."

Jason's head swam. The pain in his side was fading, but so was the world around him. As darkness crept into his vision, Jason felt his knees growing weak. Jackson yanked on the chain, breaking the rusted clasp, and stuffed it into his pocket.

"We'll take him too. I'm sure his mother will pay a hefty price for her prize child."

Oh no.

Jason wanted to protest, to spit and claw and fight back, but the darkness was taking over. Jackson released him and almost immediately, Jason fell to his knees. Clutching his wound, hoping to stem the bleeding, he gritted his teeth. Jackson stood over him. With a thin lipped smile, he said,

"Get up Blondie, we're going on a voyage."

Jason just shook his head.

"I said," Jackson grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. "Get up."

Jason stood for a second before swaying and stumbling against the boards.

"It'll be easier to carry him." The Quartermaster said.

Jason's pulse spiked. Fear clouded his mind like a thick fog. He pulled his chin up and took an indignant step forwards. His legs suddenly gave out and Jason was swallowed up by the gaping black abyss before he hit the ground.


Jason's head swam. It felt like water was sloshing around in his brain, shaking his thoughts loose and carrying them away with the deserting tide. He opened his eyes and as a wild flame danced in front of him, all of the water logged memories came rushing back to him. His cuts and scrapes ached and a fresh wave of pain shot through him when he tried to move. He sat, propped up against a cold stone wall. He was still in the village, he realized. A glimmer of hope appeared in the dusk coated sky.

The cobblestone beneath him was hard and damp. Jason looked down at his shirt and saw that although it was stained with blood, a hastily wrapped bandage peeked out from beneath his collar. He knew that the only reason that pirates would give him any help was if they needed him alive. It wasn't a comforting thought. Jason had heard the stories of what pirates did to their captives and he dreaded the thought. Crisp night air began to cut through the thin material of his shirt and he shivered.

Voices from out of sight startled him. He couldn't make out the words, but he flinched when another whooping call came from behind him. The noise roused the pounding in his head and Jason winced. It was only when he heard the triumphant laughter and caught a flash of those foamy sea eyes did panic come to him. Jackson held his sword, still dripping with Jason's blood. Jason thought he might be sick. Instead, his heavy eyelids dropped like stone and everything floated away.


The second time, it was the stench that woke him. Smoke filled his lungs and clung to his throat. The thick, coppery smell of blood pooling nearby drove him into a coughing fit before he even knew he was awake. All Jason knew was that he had to get rid of the foul smell. After the wracking coughs subsided, he forced his tired eyes open. Sleep still muddled his brain and blurred his eyes for a moment. He blinked hard. When the scene in front of him became clear, he instantly wished that he was still dreaming.

He was slumped up against a rock that had lodged itself deep into the sand. Waves washed over the beach behind him, sending a spritz of sea salt into the otherwise filthy air. Rough ropes were wrapped around his wrists and ankles, tied tightly. He pulled at them, but it was no use. He could see the sky wasn't much darker than before and decided that he hadn't been asleep long. It was what lay in front of him though, that sent a crippling horror over him.

Thalia.

His sister stood tall and proud as she always did. She still held her sword, but even Jason could see that her grip was faltering. Blood and grime coated her face, smeared across her cheeks making her striking blue eyes pop. Fury warped her features as she stood, panting as much with exhaustion as rage. She has clearly fought hard. Jason wouldn't have expected it any other way. He stilled worried though. He was too far away for him to tell if she was injured. Even if she was, he knew that she would push herself long past the point of return. She's push herself to the brink if it meant saving her town.

The pirates stood shoulder to shoulder a few feet in front of him, keeping a gap just wide enough to allow Captain Jackson a few inches to himself. They didn't speak, but laughed and muttered among themselves. Jackson himself was addressing the townspeople. He spoke with ease, as if they were all old friends and not bitterly defeated enemies.

"—mean you no more harm. We came simply to settle an old debt, and now," Jackson made a sweeping gesture towards Jason. He ducked his head. "Now we're even."

Jason didn't want to hear any more. His cheeks burned at the humiliation of being so helpless. He wanted to slip back into the inky nothingness where nothing hurt and everything was quiet. His head pounded so hard he thought it would burst and when he flinched, he could feel the wound in his side tearing open again. He stifled a groan. In front of him, Jackson turned to the Quartermaster.

"Let's go." He said.

She nodded and relayed his orders to the others, giving them additional jobs. Some grabbed barrels Jason hadn't noticed before. He assumed they'd been stolen from the town but a haze of pain was clouding his thoughts, keeping the anger at bay. Thalia stood still on the streets of the town. Her eyes were locked on him. She looked torn between feeling concerned and letting herself burst open with rage. She contained herself though, settling for a slight nod to him. It was a promise.

I'm coming for you, just hold on.

Jason didn't want to hang on. He wanted to sleep.

Thalia's eyes suddenly flicked away, distracted by something beside him, or someone rather, he thought as Annabeth approached him. Her sword hung at her waist but she was alert and clearly ready to leap into action. Jason wondered if this was how she was all the time, or if it was something she took on during battle and shed like a cloak when she was safe. Of course, a pirate was never truly safe.

"Get up." She said, her voice curt.

"I can't." He said, trying his best to make it sound like defiance.

The truth was that he probably couldn't. His vision was already starting to sway and something told him it would get worse if he stood. Instead of insisting like he thought she would, Annabeth simply shrugged. Then she bent down. Grabbing him around the chest, she hoisted him onto her shoulder. His vision frayed as she carried him across the sand and towards the boat. Jason lifted his head just in time to see Thalia step forward, murder in her eyes.

"Stop! Stop, leave him!" She cried.

Annabeth ignored her words, but the Captain stepped into his view.

"You'll get him back if the ransom is paid. If not, I think we'll just have to keep him. I'm sure he'll make a lovely addition to the crew."

Jason's pulse spiked.

"I'll hunt you down Jackson." Thalia spat. "I'll find you and I'll take him back and then, I swear to God, I'm gonna put this sword through your heart."

"You'll have to go through her first." He said, pointing to Annabeth and chuckling. He wasn't fazed in the slightest. "We'll send you a formal ransom request at first light and after that, you have seven days to pay up. If you don't," He cast a glance at Jason. "You won't be seeing him again."

The Quartermaster stalked across the dock and onto the boat. The last thing Jason saw before he was lifted out of sight was Reyna. She limped as fast as she could, cutting through the flocking townspeople to get to Thalia. He caught her eyes at the last moment and saw her face harden. Then the sides of the boat crept up and blocked his vision. From the streets, Reyna shouted something. Although the blood pounding in his ears obscured the words, he could hear the iron clad promise in her voice. This time though, Captain Jackson wasn't so amused.

"Lift him up Annabeth." He ordered.

Jason heard her grumble as she did it. His stomach heaved. Before Jason could catch a glimpse of Reyna or Thalia, a golden brown blur rushed towards him and a splitting pain shot through his head. He only had time to feel himself rushing towards the deck of the ship before he couldn't feel anything at all and the world left him behind.


Jason couldn't see. Sleep still held him in a tight grip and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. Wherever he was, it wasn't uncomfortable. He could feel the softness of bed sheets beneath him and a thin blanket covering him. The smell was also overpowering. It was reminded Jason of the medicine his father used to have. Cabinets crowded with bubbling glass bottles of all sizes teeming with dark, foul smelling liquids that he feared would one day wake up with a mind of their own.

This one smelled overwhelmingly of fish. Rotting fish. He didn't even have the energy to wrinkle his nose. As he lay there, he could feel the rustle of someone moving around him. They pressed a gentle hand to his forehead and added another layer to the bandages on his side. He groaned in pain when the person tried to move him. Almost immediately, the hands retreated. They returned a moment later when a cold cup brushed against his lips and liquid flowed into his mouth.

"That should do it." The person, a boy, whispered almost cheerfully.

The pain eased as he drank and soon Jason returned to the blissful numbness. He wanted to slip back into the void, but different, louder voices kept him tethered to consciousness.

"When will he wake up?" It was Captain Jackson, his voice impatient. Jason ruefully imagined him in the doorway of- well wherever he was, with his arms crossed.

"Maybe if you hadn't stabbed him—"

"Will, is it going to be long?" The Quartermaster interrupted him.

"I don't know." The boy said, uncertainty tainting the cheeriness that had been there before. "That last smack you gave him might have scrambled him good. I'll keep giving him the medicine but there isn't much else I can do."

He didn't know why, but Jason felt a stab of annoyance. The boy sounded so downcast, like he thought Jason might not survive. It would take a lot more than a ratty pirate to kill him, Jason thought indignantly. He wasn't about to die and give the Captain that satisfaction. Focusing all his strength into it, Jason tried to lift his arm. To give any sign of defiance.

At first, nothing happened. It was like his arm had turned to stone. Then he forced his fingers up, twitching and gasping at the empty air. He lifted his arms and pushed himself a few inches up. The voices escalated but he couldn't make out their words. The air seemed to grow thicker and his whole body throbbed. Jason fell back onto the bed and, with a speck of satisfaction, let the empty space fill his head.