AN:

Yeah, I know, It's been a long time. But once you read this chapter I hope you forgive me. This is longer than I usually write in one chapter, and it took a long time for me to be happy with it.

All the shit kicks off this chapter, and the two will be on their adventure next chapter, and hopefully in their next key location in the one after that. So you have that to look forward to.

Now, peasants, read on.

Splinters were lying everywhere, colliding with the back wall and bursting into even finer fragments. Wood shavings rained down across the room as a cloud of smoke billowed in.

Zoë felt something heavy land on top of her and unintentionally let out a grunt as the air was expressed from her lungs. Quickly she shifted it off of her, and was relieved to see what it was.

Her weapons bag.

The smoke was thick in the room, obscuring her vision of nearly everything, and causing an alarm to go crazy. She heard several pairs of feet thundering down the hall towards the room.

Then suddenly there was an organic sound, a scream, and all three pairs were cut off.

Her breaths were quick and shallow, quickly noticing the fact she fought to control them and obscure the noise of her respiration. Quickly and as silently as she could, she reached into the weapons bag and withdrew two pistols, no harness or holster. To do that she would have to open another pocket.

With a gun in each hand, she half rolled, half slid herself under the bed. Looking out from beneath, peering into the smoke, searching for the form of some figure. She was completely unaware of what specifically she was looking for, but was completely aware that she had shelved the 'who' file into a drawer marked 'read when not in severe danger of death.

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, but slowly it began to quiet down as her hearing returned to normal. The wind noise from outside returned, and the ringing sensation mercifully departed.

She could hear footsteps. They were slow. Measured. Someone was taking their time. Then, a few steps into the room, they stopped.

Then they started again. Zoë frowned, no they didn't. Someone else was walking into the room. Except she much rather though it sounded like a something.

She kept a firm gaze out from under the bed, looking in the direction of the door. Though she could hardly see a thing beyond the smoke, which curled hazily and refused to dissipate.

She saw a shape take form out of the cloud, a shadow within the gray. She pointed her gun towards it, but then stopped. Something wasn't right.

The smoke began the be pushed away, something else coming up behind it. The gray was replaced by a black, but the black wasn't solid. It two was some sort of haze, and then in the middle of the shade, a leg stepped forward.

At the end of the leg, was a paw.

Zoë froze. Her breathing stopped, as she immediately ceased any noise that she made. Another paw stepped forward as the beast walked into the room, stepping around the bed.

Her heart had gone from a thud to a constant hammering. A low growl could be heard from the creature, filling in the space between light sniffing. Both guns were grained on the creature, but she didn't want to shoot the beast only to find whatever human there was outside the bed duck under and murder her.

The paws stopped moving. And the stiffening ceased. The growl deepened.

The original pair of footsteps started up again,and a pair of boots made their way into her light of sight. They were slow, measured. The person was not remotely concerned about time, because they had more than enough of it.

The former huntress carefully let out a breath and took in another, refilling her lungs with much needed oxygen.

Then suddenly the bed was gone from over her. On instinct she rolled away to her left, feeling as a massive shape blurred past her and slammed into the wall.

Something barreled into her, sending her rolling across the room, the guns she had flying away from her. With years of practice she bounded up into her feet, just in time to catch a fist flying at her and pray it into the wall. The plaster cracked upon connection.

Turning her head, she looked into black eyes, that belonged to an old man.

The old man she had seen at the airport.

He bared his teeth and wrenched his arm backwards, stumbling as his blow missed Zoe's head. She lunged forwards, striking the man across the jaw, hearing a resounding crack as something snapped. Luckily for her, it wasn't her hand.

Suddenly the man was far away from her, and she grunted in pain as he head struck a wall and a large weight landed on top of her. Something sliced at the back of her shoulder, and she clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. Her elbow shot back and hit something soft. The weight on her lessened and she rolled away.

Back on her feet she looked around on the floor. Her guns were at the opposite end of the room. She took a step towards them, rolling under a swing from the man, but was once again struck by the creature. This time though, she was facing it.

Staring into her eyes was a glowing pair of coals that sat in the middle of a face, that belonged to a gigantic hound. A hound from more than just hell.

She let out a shout as she slammed the dogs head on both sides a s hard as she could. A trick that she had learned as a huntress fighting wolves and hellhounds all her life. The creature stumbled backwards and Zoë kicked at it before diving across the floor to her guns. A hand securely closing around each one.

She shot to her feet, guns blazing as she turned, firing upon her assaulter. The creature darted away, melting into a shadow that billowed around the room. The old man swung around a wall, taking shelter in the bathroom as bullets blazed towards him.

The beast had avoided any hits, but from what she could see, she had nailed the man with three bullets.

Zoë turned and threw open the patio door, ducking behind the wall as several gunshots rang out. The patio door shattered and fell to the ground in a heap of broken glass.

Tossing away one of her guns, of which she'd emptied the clip, she took her knife from the waistline of her jeans, the the place she'd painfully shoved it in her rush to dive under the bead.

Quickly flicking the blood of the blade, she put it in a reverse grip and readied her remaining gun.

The figure she'd been expecting to burst through the door never came. She stood there waiting, crouched against the wall, ready to spring and strike.

Judging the time safe, she took a moment to try and stop her vision from spinning. The quick movement combined with the explosion had left her in a bit of a state. And on top of that, the cut on the back of her shoulder from the beast, the bruises on her leg from the weapons bag, and the cut on her thigh from her own clumsy hand didn't help matters.

When her mind had finally calmed enough to think, she realized something. Despite who she had shot, the hound was still perfectly alright, so why hadn't it attacked yet?

And then with horror, she realized another thing. Anyone carrying one explosive…

The brick wall burst outward, showering her with bricks, she gasped in pain and in shock as she saw herself flying towards the edge of the balcony. She tried to grab into the railing but felt it tear away as something heavy hit it behind her. Time seemed to stop, and all she could feel was her own horror as she fell five stories down to the ground, with bricks, shrapnel and a patio chair alongside her.

"Oh come off it, George. You even said after last time, that the next time I came here, I would drink for free."

"I meant a pint, lad. And I already gave you that." Toolan succeeded in irritating the demigod further by not looking up at him. He just continued to fill a mug for another patron.

"Then make the next one the free one and I'll pay for the earlier one."

George gave him a funny look, yet he was also trying not to smile. "You know, Jack, that doesn't really make much sense if you think about it."

"For god's sake, George Toolan, just give me a god damn drink!"

The old man started to laugh and patted Percy on the shoulder. He went to the back of the bar, and pulled down a bottle of Percy's favorite stuff. Calmly he filled a glass and brought it over to Percy, after returning the bottle to the shelf.

Percy reached out to take it, but George lay his arm back in the bar and held the drink away from him. "Woman, or work, Jack?" He asked.

Percy raised an eyebrow. Sober he would have gotten it, and while he wasn't drunk, he had left sobriety at the last exit and was plowing along ahead of it. "What?"

"Only two reasons would have you drinkin' like this, woman or work?" George met Percy's gaze, and the much younger man sighed. He ran a hand through his hair tiredly. Toolan gave him an empathetic look. Not sympathetic, Percy could already tell, this one was empathetic.

"It was, you know. More one, but some of the other."

"Mostly a woman, but some work. She want a relationship with you then, Jack?" The old man grinned lightly.

Percy smiled, but briefly. "No. It wasn't that kind of woman anyway."

"Your mother, sister, other family?" He asked.

"No, not that either. Just a friend," he paused a moment, and thought about it. "An old friend."

Toolan nodded. "Seen again after a long time. Brings back memories, that sort of thing."
Percy nodded, his eyes dead, staring at nothing. "I thought she was dead."

Toolan paused in bar cleaning. Leaning forward he rested his hands on the bar. "You once served in the army, didn't you?"

"A sort of army, yes. Three separate ones."

"Did you fight along side this woman?"

Percy sighed, and shrugged . "For a time. We were… in the middle of an operation in the U.S., the end went badly, she ended up dead," Then Percy let out a humorless chuckle. "Well, I thought she did anyway."

There was a clink as something was placed in front of him. He looked up, across from him was a full glass.

"Go on, drink up, Jack." Toolan pointed towards the mug. Eying the demigod over glasses.

Percy thanked up quietly and brought the liquid to his lips, downing it quickly, ignoring the burning in his throat. It was worth it as some of the pain went away.

"Anyway," Percy wiped a sleeve across his mouth. "I left that life behind a long time ago. And seeing her again…" He trailed off.

George put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "She wants you to come back doesn't she?"

Percy nodded.

"Jack, look at me." Percy looked up. Sea green eyes met pale blue. The old man gripped his shoulder tightly. "As long as I've known you, you've been wallowing in the pain of something in your past. Now, I don't know what's happened to you, and I don't claim to understand, but what you're trying to do is push it aside and move on."

Percy looked back down at the bar, but a hand grabbed his chin and moved it back up.

"Sometimes that's not the right course of action, Jack. Sometimes you've got to go back, make things right."

"Why in the world, would I want to go back. All it is is pain." Percy growled.

George Toolan wasn't put off. He stared unblinkingly back at Percy, and in that moment, Percy realized there was much more to Toolan than he realized.

"Because, Jack. When you see an old comrade in arms, you bloody well stick with them. Now, Jack, despite what you seem to believe, and despite what you project on the surface, you're a good man. And a man like you wouldn't make such friends with just anyone. This woman, from what I can understand, is a good woman. And she's asking you to come back."

Percy didn't have a response, he couldn't respond. How would he respond? There was no way to. In a situation like the one he was in, all you're supposed to do is listen.

"Go back with her, Jack." Toolan release his shoulder, and gave him a warm smile. Then, he turned and walked down the bar.

Something told Percy, that George had meant more than one thing by is last sentence.

"Toolan, told you, she's just…" but he trailed off, Georg was already elsewhere.

Percy shook his head and took another drink. But now something was nagging in the back of his mind. Zoë. She had been pleading with him, not asking, pleasing that he return.

Maybe there was a reason or two why he should consider it.

With a heavy heart and a heavy mind, Percy went to take another drink. In the distance he heard a loud boom, followed by a crash. He growled and delayed his drink long enough to curse those stupid enough to get behind the wheel after drinking.

Everything was black. Pitch black, the kind you get in the middle of the night, deep below the ground in a cave. No texture, no feel, no variety, everything was just black.

Zoë coughed. Every inch of her felt terrible. When going over the edge, she managed to inhale a large quantity of smoke, causing her to enter a coughing fit and become unable to ease her landing. So when the huntress landed upon a parked car, she took the full force of the impact, before bouncing off onto the cement.

Her eyelids fluttered open. Head throbbing she reached her arms up and tried to push herself off the ground.

A gasp of breath escaped her sharply as a searing pain shot through her abdomen. Laying back down she breathed heavily. Several, if not many of her ribs were cracked. Nothing had pierced her lung as she was still breathing ,and the same went for other vital organs, bit god damn did it hurt like hell.

Reaching down, she stared upwards still breathing as she undid her belt. Then she put it between her teeth, and slowly once again tried to sit up.

The pain struck her again, and she bit down hard, screaming into the leather. But she didn't stop, and pushed herself up onto a seated position. She took the belt out of her mouth and fastened it back around her waist, ignoring the protests of her wrist.

Slowly, she reached back and used the car to help her stand. Taking a few hesitant steps, she found that she could walk with only some pain. The pain in her leg had returned somewhat, though it just as easily could be a new wound.

A howling sounded from somewhere in the hotel. Zoë looked back once, and then started forward. Her steps quickening. She didn't exactly know where she was running to, but something told her just to keep going.

And that is what she did.

Three blocks later, she was in the midst of an alley when she collapsed. Her body would not allow her to run any further. She was fit, more so than most mortals and immortals, but a smashed ribcage will do wonders in impeding one's physical ability.

It hurt to breath now, that had changed from earlier. Her lungs felt tight, like they couldn't expand past a partial point.

She was on her knees ,using her arms to keep her from falling over. Blood trickled from a cut she had sustained over her eye, obscuring her vision. Her leg had gotten worse, aching at every joint and the cut stung something horrible.

She closed her eyes. The dog would be near her soon. She was in a distant country, thousands of miles from home, no reinforcements, and her lack of preparation was going to cost her her life.

Something hit her. She shivered. She was going to die. Right there, in England. Not in the current land of the gods, and not even in her home. She would get no burial, no chance for her body to see her homeland again.

Several tears sprung from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She blinked them away. There was a howl. Close by. She looked up, and saw the dog padding around the corner. It's monstrous head staring at her. Smoke curling off as if on fire.

Slowly she stood up. If she was going to die, she was going to bring something down with her.

A low growl crescendo-ed in the back of the hounds through and with a chilling bark it launched itself at her. Dagger in hand, Zoë took a step and thrust her hand forward.

A loud bark cut through the air inside George Toolan's tavern, over the sound of the football game, and the mingling conversation throughout the bar.

Some people looked up, some people commented and made a joke, but most people ignored the sound. But Percy Jackson shot up. Knocking over his drink in the process, the liquid spilling over a surprised George Toolan who had taken a seat to have a drink with the young man.

"The bloody hell was that, Jack?" Toolan looked down at the front of his shirt. But Percy wasn't paying attention. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his heart was beating quickly. Though not yet at the point of pounding.

He let out a breath and murmured a quick prayer to the minor goddess Anoia, who recently had been promoted to goddess of hope, a quite lucrative title in the immortal world.

He turned to Toolan. "George, shut off the game."

Toolan looked at him strangely. "What, Jack-"

"Just do it!" He snapped.

The old man ducked behind the bar, and came back up with a remote. With some difficulty he angled it towards the screen and clicked the button.

As soon as it switched off there was a loud uproar of protest. Percy jumped up onto the bar and brought his foot down heavily on the polished wood.

"Quiet!" He shouted. His voice easily cutting through the rest of the crowd. Everyone turned to him, confusion and expectation in their expressions. Percy looked back at them.

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off. A pained scream echoed from out in the alley. It was a woman. No, not a woman. The woman.

Some of the more 'heroic' men immediately turned to rush out and save whoever it was, but Percy shouted again.

"Nobody move."

Amazingly everyone listened. Percy hopped down from the bar. Turning to Toolan he addressed him speedily. "George, grab your rifle and guard the back door. Don't let anyone out and don't let anything in. Don't ask any questions. DO NOT!"

Toolan nodded silently and went into the back room. The crowd separated as a man pushed his way to the front.

"What the hell are you doing? Some poor girl's being attacked but there." His face was right in the demigods. His expression twisted in righteous fury. Percy just glared back.
"I'm getting to that." He said, voice dangerously low. There was a bump as Toolan reemerged with a rifle in hand. He nodded to Percy.

Addressing the crowd, he spoke calmly. "Everybody stay in here." Inside he was panicking. Praying that no one would delay him further. He needed to get out there, now.

No one did. And after one more check, Percy bolted for the door, George Toolan behind him.

The door burst outward as Percy didn't bother to slow down and take the time to turn the handle. The alley was mostly dark, illuminated by a single streetlamp in the back, but he could see a large shape on the ground. Writhing as two figures moved rapidly. One was on top of the other, holding the second down.

The one on top was definitely not Zoë.

Sprinting towards them, he slammed into the top figure shoulder first. The two rolling along the ground. Percy quickly rolled back onto his feet and swung a fist full force towards the figure. He had expected the punch to connect….

...But he hadn't expected it to connect with a dog.

The hound stumbled back, dazed briefly. Percy capitalized, slamming into the creature again, taking it down to the ground. Hearing the air express from its lungs as he crushed it with the impact of his fall.

He rained down punches on the creature. It was all he could do, he had no real weapon. He paused briefly to look back at Zoë.

His heart leapt to his throat when he saw that she hadn't moved. She lay motionless on the ground.

Then he was flying, the dog had kicked him. His head thudded painfully on the ground and white lights exploded in his vision. Blinking away the pain he sat up to see the dog slowly getting to its feet, gingerly holding one leg off the ground. For the first time he saw it clearly.

It was like a hellhound he had ever seen. It wasn't particularly big, but it was streamlined. Back smoke curled off of it and it's eyes were solid green, and glowed like phosphorous.

The strangest part was that it was bleeding. Red blood leaked from dozens of cuts all over it's body, showing that Zoë had at least been somewhat successful, yet any celestial bronze that she had proved to be no better than mortal iron.

He took a step back and felt something under his foot. Maintaining eye contact with the dog he reached down and felt a blade. Zoe's knife. Which must have been knocked away from her in the fight.

Slowly he picked it up.

It was knocked from his hand immediately, the hound lunged. Slamming him back into the wall. Disoriented he stumbled forward, and screamed in pain as he felt an immense weight collapse on his spine.

It brought him to the ground, luckily he had turned his face in tie to avoid a broken nose, but it still hurt like hell. He tried to roll over, and immediately was flattened on his back.

The dog bend down to him, growling. Percy watched in horror as it leaned back and opened it's mouth. And then there was a loud crack.

The dog jerked to the left, stumbling off the demigod. Percy's gaze immediately flew right.

"No!" He shouted. George Toolan took another step forward, firing another shot. ONce again hitting the dog. But it didn't fall. It shook its head, looking confused.

A third shot hit it, this one did barely anything. The dog began to run.

The fourth shot missed, George Toolan was stumbling backwards. Percy was trying to drag himself to his feet. The hound was springing at the old man.

The fifth shot also missed, and Percy screamed as the dog lept.

The sixth shot was fired into the air as the hound brought Toolan to the ground. Blood was flying as the dog savagely tore into the old man's chest, slicing and ripping everything to pieces. His inhuman screams of pain cutting through the night.

And then Percy saw red.

A blur followed next in Percy's mind, he was aware of some pain, stinging as something clawed at his arms, and he was aware of his fist becoming more and more painful. But everything was muffled, as if he was hearing it through a all of cotton

He heard coughing, and then he head a voice. A girls voice.

Then suddenly everything came back to him.

"...P-please…"

His first stopped, hovering in the air. His vision was clear again. Beneath him, there was

no longer a dog. There was a young girl, couldn't have been more that fifteen. Her face was beaten in, one eye swollen shut. Blood flowed from cuts and splits all over her lower face and shoulders. He quickly looked over the girl's, injuries by the dozen dotted every part of her body. He knew this, because she was naked.

All this registered in a single second and his eyes went back to her ace. Her open eye was blue, and tears were leaking from it. She held an arm out protectively, it trembled in the air.

"...Please…" Her voice was weak.

Percy eased his weight off of the girl, he lowered his fist.

And then was aware of a blinding pain below his stomach.

He doubled over, gasping for breath, the girl rolled away, darting in a shadow cast by the building from the lamp, and faded away into the night.

Percy's pain was extreme, but he ignored it. He rushed to his feet and hurried over to another.

George Toolan's face was pale, blood pooled around him. He coughed and more blood bubble up from his throat. Percy pressed the man's jacked against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. He felt tears prick in his eyes and panicked, trying to think of anything to save his life.

"No, no, no, no, NO! You are not dying on me old man. Don't you fucking dare to die. Don't you die." Percy's voice was frantic. Fear was overwhelming him.

The old man coughed, and smiled weakly. "For-forget me, Jack."

"No, no. George, you're going to be fine," He looked up, some people had come out of the bar.

"Don't just fucking stand there," he screamed. "Get a fucking ambulance!"

"No, J-Jack," George's voice pulled him back down, his voice was weak, he didn't have long left. "Go, the woman. Help her, Jack. Save her. And t-then… let her save you."

"No, Toolan. George, don't you- NO!" The old man's head dropped back, limp in his arms. He let out one last breath, and then was still.

Percy screamed. He screamed and his voice cut out on him.

Tears fell from his eyes as he slowly lay the man down. He folded his arms over his chest and gave it a squeeze.

"Rest in peace, old man." He sniffed, wiping away the tears. George Toolan was at rest. Peaceful in death, as he was in life. Percy would remember him the rest of his life.

"P-Per- Percy…"

A voice, weaker than Toolan's snapped him back into reality.

In an instant he was at Zoe's side. She was on her back, her eyes barely open, fluttering as she tried to stay awake.

"Zoë."

"Please. H-help…" She was unable to finish her sentence, her energy so low, her eyes fully shut. Percy felt her forehead, she was cold. Very cold.

His car was just out on the street, he had everything he needed back at the house, but if that monster came back…

Percy shook his head. He knew what he needed to do. He removed his coat, wrapping it around Zoë, carefully picking her up bridal style. Her lack of weight frightening him to move even faster.

Out on the street, he flung open the door and eased Zoë into the passenger seat. Even with the added layer, she was shivering.

He got in the driver side and turned the key in the ignition. Immediately, he set the heat to high and started to drive off.

He looked back and forth between the road and the huntress. She was huddled in her

seat, curled up in her unconsciousness, and trembling constantly. She looked hurt, confused, but mostly her ace was twisted in a familiar expression, though one he never thought he'd see on her. She was scared.

Reaching over, he took her hands in his, hoping that it would provide her comfort to subconsciously be aware of another human presence, to know she was not alone.

You'll be alright Zoë. I swear to gods, you are not going to die tonight.

AN:

Wow, so that was an emotional end. Sorry guys, I really didn't want to kill old George, I based the character off of a beloved character from a TV show I grew up with. But his words and his death have given Percy a reason to go with Zoe and fight the threat that is befalling the Greek world.

Those of you wo for some reason are looking forward to some Percy and Zoe conflict before their relationship, do not worry. Despite Percy's obvious concern for Zoe and fear of her death in this chapter, he is not completely alright with her. He's also following George's last command, though the aspect of saving himself won't be explored till later. But Zoe and Percy are going to have a rough relationship for a few days. Though after that, hopefully I will chose to let the relationship be a good one, and soon after that, a much stronger one. Perzoe is not far away.

Thank you for all the support I have been given, It's great to see peopel take an interest in my work. Please, read, rate, review, favorite and follow if you enjoyed it. And if not, go eat a big bowl of spiderwebs.

Next update is completely up for grabs. I have no idea what you should all expect to be updated sooner rather than later, so see you wherever I may pop up.

And now, bidding farewell to you all, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.