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Zoë Nightshade recognized the steady rhythm of an automobile beneath her before she even opened her eyes. The pressure of the seatbelt around her stomach and the slight angle at which she was lying told her, after much cognitive effort, that she was in the front passenger seat which had been tilted back to accommodate her state.

She found it difficult to move. Her body was stiff and the seat belt strapped across her front was doing her no assistance in that department.

There was music playing from the radio. SRV. The name dropped into her head from who knows where. Perhaps it was the way that the guitar on the track sounded like it was being played within an inch of it's life. It certainly wasn't because of the words 'Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble - Live at Carnegie Hall - Pride and Joy' scrolling gently across the dashboard of the car. No, in order for that to be the case, she would have to have been able to actually see them.

Her eyes opened. Rain was cascading down the front windshield of the car, creating interesting patterns that could entertain the young and the old for entire seconds. A car sped past them on the next lane over. A pool of water was tossed up into the car and splattered gently against her side window.

After a moment the volume of the music decreased. She carefully turned her head to the right. Percy Jackson glanced at her before returning his gaze to the road. The wipers flicked away at the water in front of him.

"We're on the M25, just outside London," he said. "It's nearly seven o'clock.

Zoë heard the words as if they were spoken through cotton. She frowned a moment. "Seven," she murmured lazily.

"P.M."

Zoë rolled her head. Outside a flash of lightning briefly coated the world wit illumination and then it was gone. The light had gone with it.

"'S dark." She said. The small part of her brain that was functioning winced. That had sounded so pathetic.

"'S raining," Percy responded, not a note of condescension in his voice. "'S also very cloudy, cause 'S raining."

Zoë was silent a few moments. The only sound was the rain and the road rumbling beneath them. Percy glanced at her. Surely she hadn't already fallen back asleep.

"Asshole." Well that answers that question.

Despite himself, Percy let out a bark of laughter. Zoë seemed to have, if it was even possible, slunk further back into her seat.

"You should stop talking," he said to her. "You're dosed up in triplicate with morphine."

Aha. Zoë thought through this slowly. That perhaps was why she felt extremely drunk, but not in a pleasant way. The effects of mortal medicine on someone with even partially immortal blood could vary. Someone might not notice the side effects at all, and another would be bedridden by ibuprofen.

There was a lot she wanted to ask, and certainly what she did not want to do was go to sleep; however, keeping her eyes open was a struggle. In fact, there was a dull pain that had been growing slowly the longer she tried to look at anything.

A few moments later Percy heard her breathing even out. Despite her relatively peaceful state she looked terrible. Her skin was a sicky pale and her forehead was drenched in sweat. His cool demeanor while talking to her had been utterly forced. Inside he was a whirlwind of emotion. He did not yet know exactly how he felt about the whole situation but at the moment that didn't matter. She had gotten worse as the day had dragged on, and Percy was increasingly starting to fear that some form of poison had been inflicted by the beast the night before.

It certainly did not aid his fears that he wasn't feeling so good himself. Nor did the reminder of what happened the last time she had suffered a venomous wound in his presence.

He batted the thought aside. Worrying in such a manner would do her no help at present. He concentrated on the road in front of him. They were perhaps a half an hour from their destination. Their arrival would cause a whole host of problems, but Percy was at least mostly confident that most could be sorted out given the circumstances of his visit. He just had to pray that Mary would be willing to take them in. If not, he wasn't quite sure if there was anywhere they could go that was safe.

Beside him Zoë shifted in her sleep. Tensing slightly when she moved something the wrong way. Percy shook his head. Olympus was foolish. They sent ne operative on a lone mission where they clearly did not know what to expect. It didn't matter if they had tw thousand years of experience. The world still will change at the same rate, and new things will arise that veterans may not be able to handle.

A cold chill raced down his spine. The beast they had fought that night had nearly killed them both, it had only been a violent rage that had saved their lives.

A collection of tears sprung to his eyes as he thought of old man Toolan but his thought process was racing ahead too quickly to be stopped. That single entity had nearly killed a veteran demigod and an extremely veteran huntress and demititan. High commands and generals were not sent on field missions. That meant this thing was a pawn.

No...no. It couldn't have been. Percy shook his head. It was far too powerful. Agents do exist, he reminded himself. The creature could have been an experienced operative.

Percy Jackson very quickly found that this second thought really didn't make him feel all that much safer.

He stared out the front windshield into the rain. The pattering off of the bonnet lulled him into a slight daze. Then some asshole behind him honked and he was snapped from it.

He moved the saloon forward. Thumb and index finger rubbed at the corner of each eye. He had gotten almost no sleep the previous night and it was a time when his body really needed it. The after effects were really starting to show.

He checked the road signs as he passed. His previous estimate had been wrong. From their present location it would most likely be only fifteen minutes to Mary's.

He sighed to himself. The stop would without a doubt be something they both needed. A vital recharge from the events that had occurred over the past twelve or so hours. What Percy didn't know was if he had the energy to steer them through the rest of the night. Perhaps all would work out well.

Then again, in the world of Greeks and Romans, it hardly ever did.

Zoë dreamed that she was surrounded by dwarves in jam jars, and they all were shouting her name. She assumed it didn't mean much of anything.

She felt like she was on a ship. The world swung back and forth around her, and there wasn't a moment where she didn't feel nauseous. Her mind was stuck somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She couldn't see anything since her eyes were shut, but sometimes she could hear things. She recognized the deep base of Percy's voice. At times it would vibrate strongly against her and she would know that he was carrying her. This only happened a couple of times.

For the majority of what she sensed she was lying down. It felt like whatever it was that was beneath her was trying to drag her down and suffocate her within it. Voices echoed a long way off. There was… a man's, that was Perseus, and there was a woman's.

At one point it sounded like they were arguing. She was able to hear it distinctly because out of everything that happened it was the only one that grabbed her attention. It sounded as if the conversation had been going on for some time when she had picked it up, but what she heard went something like this:

"-eal bad. Internal bleeding, scarring. Definitely some blunt force trauma-"

"Then why isn't she awake."

There was a sigh. "Percy, she's hurt real bad. There's poison in her system. This.. fucking… 'board with rusty nails in it' did damage. I can only operate to fix some shit. The rest takes time. I don't even know if she'll pull through."

Someone slammed down something hard. "We don't have any fucking time! You better do something right for once 'doctor' or I swear on the river styx that if she dies I-I...I'll..."

The voice trailed, and there was silence after that. It lasted a long time. Too long.

Then there was a small sob.

"Mary, I-"

The response was too quiet for her to hear, even with her especially acute hearing. She was aware of the two moving and then stillness.

"Fuck you Perseus Jackson." The voice was punctured, and what did come out was shaky. The woman was crying. "Please, get out."

"Mary-"

"Get out."

A door opened and then was shut again. Footsteps echoed in the outer room and then stopped as a body slumped down against a wall.

Though Zoë didn't know it, that had only been twenty minutes ago.

The door to her room opened. The person who entered made no effort to be quiet in shutting the door. Zoë could hear a slight hiccuping in the breathing followed by a sniff. The woman leaned against the door and cried silently a moment longer before she made her way to Zoë's bed.

She grabbed her arm and suddenly a pressure she hadn't been aware of was alleviated. Something stabbed her wrist and then another pressure joined it as something wrapped from her hand to her elbow.

Someone felt her forehead and a moment later a damp cloth was laid on top of it. Then someone gently grasped each side of her head. A thumb pressed into each of her temples.

"Sleep." A voice whispered. Suddenly the pressure increased and Zoë let out a small whimper while everything went silent.

It was some time before Zoë was aware of anything again.

It was a strange sensation. All of her senses seemed to zero in on her from the end of a long, thin tunnel. They hit simultaneously, making her body seize before slowly relaxing.

She was still in the bed she had felt earlier. The sensation of sinking in quicksand had not left. She could still feel the needle in her left wrist from earlier. And, as she had surmised, felt the familiar cylindrical tug of the gauze bandage wrapped tightly her forearm.

A pair of footsteps approached the bed as Zoë's eyes fluttered open. The harsh light that greeted her resulted in an arm flying up to block out her surroundings. She pressed her eyelids tight and groaned in discomfort.

"You're awake." The voice was noncommittal. It was a simple statement that invited neither reply nor retort. "How do you feel?"

Zoë didn't reply immediately. Slowly she sat up, her eyes still shut. The muscles of her back screamed in protest until she leaned back against her pillow. Slowly she let her eyes open and scan the room around her. It took a moment for her sight to focus in on anything, and she blinked rapidly to clear the blurred lines from her vision.

A young woman sat in a wicker chair by the left of her bed. Behind her was a window, curtains drawn but still the dim light from the streetlamps she could see outside floated through. The room was simple enough in design. She lay on a bed with a medical contraption hooked up to her from the right. The door lay on the opposite wall and was tightly shut. Next to it, in alignment with the bed, was a chest of drawers. On top of it were two lamps, a small selection of books… and her clothes?

Zoë looked down. Instead of the jeans and white short sleeved shirt she had put on back at the hotel, she was wearing what appeared to be a pair of loose pajamas. Mostly black, they appeared to have a pale paisley pattern sewn into them. They were in fact quite comfortable and very warm, but this bonus was pushed aside by an emotion of confused (and slightly embarrassed) irritation.

"Sorry, but I thought you'd be in less pain if you were wearing something looser and softer, so I changed you into...um...that."

As Zoë's head whipped around to meet the woman on her left, the growl died in her throat. Yelling at someone for being well meaning was hardly a way to greet them, especially for the first time.

The woman smiled wanly. "I didn't mean to make to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. Don't worry, I changed you, it wasn't...Percy."

It was Zoë's luck that her years as an agent of Olympus and her time accustoming to the modern world had worn inter her brain enough to prevent the fiery blush and stuttering, angry protests that probably would have come at the thought of a boy changing her a few years ago. Instead the blush flared only in her mind though it lingered far longer than she would have liked.

"You don't have to apologize," Zoë assured her and then gestured to herself. "Thank you. I am very much in your debt.

The woman chuckled. "Of course. It's my job. I already know your name cause Percy must have mentioned it a half dozen times. Don't know if you know mine. It's Mary."

"It's good to meet you, Mary." Zoë looked the girl up and down. The term girl wasn't completely accurate though. Physically she was older than Zoë was. Looking at her face Zoë would have to guess she was somewhere around Percy's age. Twenty seven or twenty eight.

The second thought that came was more analytical. Zoë would have had no hesitation in saying that Mary would have without a doubt be a stunningly beautiful woman after a long shower and a full night's sleep. Her youthful features were marred by deep circles under her her eyes, which sat permanently in the tone of a dull green. Her hair, which Zoë had perceived to be black at first glance, was in fact a dark brown. It tumbled down past her face and, based on its length in the front, probably fell between her shoulder blades in the back. Overall, the kind of girl that Zoë would feel proud to introduce to a few of her friends that were inclined in a feminine direction.

"But don't try to guess my weight. You'll have no help from me there." The young woman tried to smile. It was a decent smile, it just didn't reach anywhere except her lips. Zoë felt a pang of empathy for her.

A padding from outside her door cause the two women to look towards the exit. There was a delay of action when the feet reached the door. A couple of moments passed before someone cursed. It sounded like a 'damn.'

The door peeked open, then a boot kicked at the bottom to send it to a more ideal place, e.g. inside. Percy entered the room backwards, carrying a tray. A few medicine bottles crowded the left side, and on the right sat a plate of food. Water sloshed in a glass that was dangerously close to tumbling off the edge and shattering on the wood floor. No doubt something that would have made the contractors who build it quite cross with them.

He turned to face her and his eyes widened. He hurried to the side table to place the tray. A strong aroma of eggs drifted up for Zoë to 'taste.' Percy looked at her and exhaled. He looked as if the world had just been taken off of his shoulders again. If Zoë wasn't so averse to feeling hopeful, she would have sworn she saw a smile flicker across his face.

"You're awake. Good." And that seemed to be that. He sat down on the edge of her bed, careful not to crush her foot. In the chair, Mary shifted slightly. A hand moved to rest on her right leg.

"How do you feel?" asked Mary.

"Like you look?" added Percy. That comment got him two glares.

"I feel like I have a hangover, except it's everywhere." Zoë groaned. "Should fingernails ache?"

Mary chuckled. "You're probably coming down off of the painkiller. You won't feel great for a while, but you'll be up and walking around by tonight.

Zoë was genuinely astonished. The hospitals on Olympus didn't work this fast, and it wasn't as if their stupid modern safety codes that were slowing them down...much. For her response she settled for safely challenging. "You're joking."

The young woman shook her head. "No, I'm not." She glanced at Percy, who gave a noncommittal shrug, before continuing. "You see, I work differently than Olympus. For one I actually believe in getting patients better as soon as possible. And I don't believe in paperwork. So none of that takes time. Plus, well…someone patched you up pretty good before I went in to fix all the problems."

Zoë glanced at Percy. Percy very pointedly did not glance back.

She looked back at the doctor. "Will there be anything that I need to worry about?"

"Not that I can think of. Just remember to take some doses of ambrosia when you can.

It will just speed everything up."

"Ah." Zoë nodded. No one picked up the conversation from there. For the first time Zoë truly noticed how awkward the atmosphere of the room was. The tension between Percy and Mary was palpable, and Zoë wasn't quite sure what to do about it. Ha, Zoë laughed with a grim mirth, I can flip and split a hellhound in one move but when it comes to heart to heart, I'm bloody useless.

It was Percy who spoke at last. "Mary is gonna let us stay here for a few days. She has a spare room and a couple of mattresses we can take. Don't worry, hardly anyone has bled on them." He stopped speaking. There was a sigh and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. Zoë would hazard to say he looked worse than Mary in terms of fatigue. "I'm gonna take you across the channel to France. Then in Switzerland I can get you to a safe house where you can call base. You can get back home from there."

There was much that Zoë wanted to add and protest, but one glance at the two in the room stopped her. Percy looked stressed and exhausted. Mary looked that and depressed. Ten years ago? Zoë would have pressed without a thought. Now? She felt bad thinking about pushing them. More so Percy than Mary, there was just more guilt there.

A question bobbed to the surface of her mind. She used her good leg to tap Percy, who had completely zoned out in a matter of a few seconds. "How will we get across the channel?"

Zoë didn't miss how Mary's expression suddenly hardened thereafter. Nor did she miss how Percy's gaze flicked over to her.

"That's...still being worked out. Look, you don't need to worry about it." He slid off of the bed and walked up to her, resting his hand on her shoulder. "You just eat and get some rest. I'll talk to you later."

She held his gaze for a few seconds before nodding. "Yeah. Thanks Percy."

There was that flash of a smile again. His hand slid off her shoulder and in a flash she grabbed his wrist. There was an awkward moment when he tried to continue before realizing he had been halted.

Then Zoë shook her head and let go. "Never mind. I'll mention it later."

His eyes narrowed in confusion but he let it go. Crossing the room in a couple seconds he threw the door back open and stepped out. The door snapped shut behind him.

Mary stared at her lap. Her fingers danced nervously. The moment Percy had left the room, she had slumped. If Zoë thought she could stand she honestly might have given the woman a comforting hug.

"I-I'll let you eat." Mary stood suddenly, standing up. She bustled out of the room not meeting the huntress' eyes.

"Hey, Mary." Zoë's voice halted the doctor in her tracks. She stood in the now open doorway with one hand resting against the frame. Her head turned slightly back.

Zoë pursed her lips. "Something happened. Between you and Percy, something happened didn't it.

The woman's entire body locked up. Zoë didn't need to see her eyes to know how Mary felt. The huntress had been right.

"Yeah."

Zoë felt for the woman. "I'm sorry."

It felt like an age before Mary responded. When she did, her voice came out soft, almost inaudible. "Me too... Me too." And she left without another word.

AN:

Hey, look who updated quickly. This guy. The one with two thumbs and a red carnation.

I recently updated Son of the King as well because I realized I hadn't done that in awhile. I don't really care much about my other two stories at the moment. If I get enough people asking I'll probably post an update but otherwise I'm willing to let those sit while I make progress on these two.

Enter the Mary. Finally, another main character. I'm sure I'll be getting people telling me what I should do wit her and how I should make her act. Now of course I appreciate and in fact encourage feedback, but no promises. It's still my character.

Not much else to say for this chapter. Thank you guys for being patient with me. I can be rather irritating when it comes to deadlines. I am just too attached to the sound they make as the whizz by.

Until next time, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.

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