I had no idea Hecate was so beautiful. She appeared to me that night, after penguin roundup, a few more rounds of battling shabti, an amazing lunch, a long talk with Amos about religions, and a filling supper.

But what happened after that... Well, I never expected it.

After supper, I changed into pajamas and went out onto the balcony of my room for a bit to watch the sunset. It painted the Brooklyn skyline a gorgeous red and orange, like fire. Absently, I wondered if I could create fire, and I was just about to experiment when someone touched my shoulder. I jumped, because I had locked my bedroom door, so no one would bother me at night.

Behind me, a tall woman in a black tunic embroidered in light gray and white stood smiling gently. Her gold-brown hair was pulled over her trim shoulder in a thick plait and braided with silver and gray threads. She had pale skin, matched by pale cheeks and soft pink lips. The only actual color on her was her eyes; bright, glittering drops of the sea, her blue-green eyes looked very much like mine.

Like mine...

"...Hecate?" I whispered. Her smile broadened.

"Hello, son." She glided around in front of me and gestured at an open spot on the balcony. Gray-white tendrils of mist coalesced into a vague chair, and she settled into it.

"What...?" I was so shell-shocked, I couldn't even form a full sentence; this was my mother. My mother, whom I'd thought had run off when I was a baby, leaving me alone after my dad died.

"I'm not supposed to be here," she warned. "But I will stay for a bit and answer some of your questions." Her voice was smooth and warm, like fresh cocoa allowed to cool to the perfect temperature.

"If I'm your son," I began slowly, after a long moment of thought, "then how am I... How do I have the blood of pharaohs?"

"Your father," Hecate answered immediately. "He was a direct descendant of Cleopatra." She smiled. "Not the best of Egypt's pharaohs, but still very powerful." Something bothered me.

"If he had blood of the pharaohs, why was he a Christian?"

"You know, hon, I don't know," she replied. "That's something you'd have to ask him." Dead end. I switched tracks.

"How did...? I mean, if he was part of Egyptian culture, how did you two...?"

"We met quite by accident, Erasmus," she said, laughing softly. "I was in New Mexico, checking up on the Mist. The mortals there tend to see things they shouldn't, despite my magic, so I constantly have to check on it. Jerome, your father, was there on the lookout for trouble from a group of demons that had been stirring up the locals. I had a run-in with them, and Jerome thought I was a 'damsel-in-distress,' so he sent the demons back to the Duat, the hard way. He was rather shocked when I helped. Of course, he wanted to know who I was, and where I was from, and I wanted to know the same." She blushed lightly. "Well, I'm sure you can guess what happened after that." The tender look in her eyes told me she still loved my father. A deep part of me felt so much better.

"You didn't run away," I said, half to myself.

"No, love," she answered sadly. "I would have stayed if I could, but it was at that time that Zeus ordered us not to interfere with the humans anymore. I entrusted you to Jerome's care, but I never thought..."

"Never thought what?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Jerome warned me that you would grow up in the House of Life, that you would not learn about your Greek blood until much later, for protection purposes. I accepted this because it was the only thing I could do. But when he died..." She sighed mournfully, looking like she wished she could go back and prevent my dad's death. "It wasn't an accident, Erasmus." I blinked and felt a tremor run up my spine.

"Y-you mean...?"

"Someone killed your father," she confirmed. "And even with all my magic, I cannot discover the identity of those that did it. The only thing I could learn besides the fact that they are extremely powerful, is that whoever it was, they hate both magicians and demigods." She caught my gaze and held it fiercely. "Do you understand what that means?" My gut sank, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach and dragging it down.

"I'm their greatest enemy," I whispered, slumping. Hecate leaned forward and took my hand. I longed to curl up in her lap and go to sleep, but I didn't dare, for multiple reasons, including the fact that I was no longer three years old.

"Erasmus, son, look at me," she said gently, her voice comforting and her soft hand squeezing mine. I managed to meet her gaze.

"What am I suppose to do?" I asked, feeling like, at any moment, I would break down and cry for the first time in my life. A sheen of tears covered her eyes.

"Honey, I wish I knew." She slid off her chair and knelt by mine. "I would do anything in the world if I knew it would help you." She looked down and chuckled wryly. "Did you know; in all my years, you are my only true son? I have chosen many young men to manipulate the Mist, to choose their fates, but I have only had female children." Now she looked up and smiled at me, reaching up to brush hair from my face. "You are my son, my only son, and I believe you are meant for amazing things." I almost did cry then, but instead I nodded.

Hecate stood, leaned over, and hugged me tight. I felt like melting into her arms; I returned the embrace.

"One final thing," she said, pulling back. "My brothers and sisters, the other Greek gods and goddesses, are battling themselves. I have less of an issue, since I stayed as Hecate in both Greece and Rome. But their Greek and Roman forms are in contention, and G-" She caught herself, as if saying the word meant bad things, and started again. "And Mother Earth is attempting to rise, stirring up mischief. She is trying to overthrow Geb, the Egyptian god of the earth. If she is not defeated, the Egyptian embodiment of Chaos will be allowed to rise and the whole world will dissolve into destruction."

"But..!"

"The Lord of Chaos is attempting to rise again," she cut in. "As are Mother Earth and her husband Tartarus. And your help will be greatly needed, both here and with demigods. I cannot stay longer, nor can I say anything more at this time. You must train and hone your abilities, all of them; they must be in harmony.

"Erasmus, I love you, and I am so proud of you. I always will be, no matter what." She hugged me again, and then dissolved into mist, the chair dissolving as well. All the mist swirled around me, leaving a simple message, and faded. Use the Mist...

Well that was dramatic, Heka announced. I scowled.

"Do I get no privacy with you?" I demanded aloud, standing and going into my room. As soon as the door closed, I let loose. Leaning against the glass of the door, I slid to the floor and allowed the tears to stream freely down my cheeks and drip without heed. My mother... She really loved me, and had wanted me. I closed my eyes and listened to the hum of the A/C system, crying, as I had never done before, not even when I was little and Anthony Pierce had teased me mercilessly. I hadn't cried even when my father died, but now...

"Erasmus?" For the second time that night, I jumped, but this time it was in disbelief. Could it be...? I opened my eyes and looked over at the corner of my room that was not lit by the moon. A dark form stepped closer, the silver skull ring on his hand glinting.

"Nico..." I stared. "What...?"

"I think you pulled me into your dream again," he noted in annoyance. I blinked. This was a dream? I must have cried myself to sleep and not realized it. But dreaming of the place I'm in? That's definitely new. And a little disturbing, to be honest.

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "I don't try, I promise."

"Yeah, well, your power, for whatever reason, is a magnet for me," he muttered, staying in the shadows. I noticed a flicker on his arm, just as he crossed them, his teeth flashing as he gritted them.

"That fading thing..." I began, standing. "What's happening?" He hesitated, looking at me with a searching expression, as though wondering if it would be worth explaining everything to me.

"Shadow-travel means becoming a shadow," he said slowly, his voice low. "As the one doing it, I have to expend energy focusing on where I want to go, making myself and whoever is with me become shadows, and reforming on the other side." He trailed off, hesitating again.

"...And your body doesn't want to reform after using up so much energy," I finished for him after a moment. He flinched, answering me better than words. "With all your dreams, do you get any rest while sleeping?"

"I..." He paused, and I noticed his legs trembling. Striding across the room, I reached his side just in time to catch him before he collapsed.

"Get some rest," I told him gently, guiding him to my bed. "You're going to need it."

"It's a dream, idiot," he said, but there was no bite to his words.

"Doesn't mean you can't rest," I retorted.

"I can't," he said, even as he lowered himself back to lay flat on my bed. "We're making another jump tonight."

"All the more reason to rest," I insisted. "What good will you be if you can't shadow-travel to the camp like you're supposed to?"

"It's a dream," he repeated, staring at the ceiling. His arms shifted slightly, becoming slightly foggy. I wondered what I could possibly do without having to go to Jaz for help.

You know, Heka began. As the embodiment of ka related magic, I–

Shut up, I snapped at him.

Do you WANT him to vanish into oblivion? he returned savagely. I winced.

...What do you suggest? I asked, subdued.

Connect to his ka and heal the fading parts of the strand, he answered, gentler. I hesitated.

How do I heal it?

The same way you sent that penguin back to its home; by reversing the impression. I considered that. Would it work as well on a human?

Nico lifted his hands, paling when he saw how smoky they were, and I decided I had to try. He clenched his fists and focused, gritting his teeth, fear and anger painting his expression.

"I'm going to try something, Nico," I said softly, leaning over him and reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Just relax, and breath." He obeyed, after giving me a curious look, and in a moment, I would have thought he was asleep but for the creases in his face that betrayed his agitation. I tilted my head to the left and his body faded, showing a very dark purple strand that glowed like a black light. I concentrated, searching it for damage. Sections of it were frayed, the worn threads tinged red. Gulping, I gently urged his ka to connect to mine. It did, with a subtle snap, and I felt his increased heart rate, his anxiety, his quickening breathes, his growing fear, all as if it were my own. I willed the damaged sections to heal, the heart to stop racing, the breathing to relax, and the fear and anxiety to leave. The first three followed my directive instantly, but his fear, instead of dissipating, swelled.

"What are you doing?" Nico asked, terror in his voice. As soon as the damage was gone, I disconnected from his ka, hating myself. His arms were firm again, no signs of haziness, but I felt as though I had damaged him more than I'd healed him.

"I'm sorry," I said, moving away to the glass door. "I shouldn't have done that." He sat up, slowly, carefully, looking down at his hands. He felt his arm, not quite believing his eyes.

"What did you do?" he asked softly, awed.

"I... I'm a soul magician, according to Zia," I answered mournfully, turning to look out at the Brooklyn Skyline. "Heka is the embodiment of magic, and his specialty is the ka magic, relating to the life force of a soul."

"...so you healed my life force?" he asked.

"I... I think so," I answered quietly, nodding slowly and not daring to meet his gaze.

For the first time, Nico surprised me without hitting me. I hadn't noticed him come up next to me, but he suddenly took my chin and turned me, placing his lips on mine in a gentle kiss.

"Thank you," he whispered. I blushed so hard, I was certain I lit up the room on my own.

"Y-you're welcome," I managed, looking away. "Um, y-you should lay back down."

"You're going to keep pushing, aren't you?" he sighed. Grateful for a reason to move on, I nodded firmly.

"Until you rest, absolutely," I confirmed. He grunted and turned away, twisting the skull ring on his finger. I waited until he was at least seated on the edge of my bed before speaking again. "That ring is important to you, isn't it?"

"...Bianca gave it to me," he said after a long moment, staring at the ring as he toyed with it.

"A friend of yours?" I prompted curiously.

"My sister," he countered. "She... died." I waited, but he didn't elaborate, which I guess was alright because my curiosity was dulled the moment he said she died.

"I know the feeling," I said quietly. He glanced up at me, a hint of pain in his otherwise emotionless gaze.

After a moment, he closed his eyes and let himself fall back on the bed with a tired sigh.

"...it's been so long since I've been in a real bed," he muttered quietly. Moving away from the window, I leaned against the headboard of the bed, debating whether or not it was a good idea to sit with him or not.

I watched his eyes flutter beneath the lids, and wondered what he was imagining. Of its own accord, my hand reached out and swept the dark locks of his hair from his face. He turned into it, but otherwise didn't react.

Guilt shot through me with the sinful lust I felt for him. I shifted, leaning over, and touched my lips to his, praying silently, desperately that God would forgive me.

I had meant only to kiss him once, but once started, I couldn't stop. He accepted it, endorsed it even, reaching up to tangle his fingers in my short hair, pulling me closer. I touched the joint of his jaw and neck, running my fingers across the cool skin to his collarbone. I moved my lips to follow my fingers, settling on the edge of the bed. His breathing was calm and even, hitching only once, but his heart beat quickly beneath my lips.

I just couldn't stop myself. My hand slipped under his shirt to caress the taut muscles of his stomach. His breathing changed then; each breath was long and slow as he tried to calm himself. I returned my lips to his, and felt his tongue touch mine, gently, testing the waters.

"Now I understand what Anubis meant by Heka being odd," a voice said from the door. Shit.

I jerked upright, blushing furiously, to see Walt leaning against the doorframe. For a moment, I had to blink and rub my eyes, my brain balking at what my eyes were seeing. But when I looked again, he hadn't changed; Walt was a man-headed chicken.

The worst part though wasn't seeing him with such a strange appearance, it was that he wasn't at all fazed by what he'd seen, though his eyebrow was raised in amused interest.

"Walt... What...? Why...?" I couldn't form a complete thought, but the dark-skinned young man seemed to understand anyway.

"My ba decided to take a little trip, and for whatever reason, chose to visit you," he explained. "I didn't think I'd be interrupting anything." I glanced at Nico, who'd sat up, and saw him blushing at least as much as me, but his eyes were horror-filled; someone had seen him making out with a guy. Who cared that this was a dream? We'd all still remember it when we woke up.

"...You have an aura of death," Walt said, focusing on Nico and easily changing the subject. "Are you the son of Hades Carter told me about?" Nico swung his legs over the edge of the bed, swaying as he nodded. I put my hand on his arm to keep him from falling on his face.

"Walt, this is Nico," I said hesitantly, "Nico, Walt. He hosts Anubis, like I host Heka." Nico pushed himself upright, using my shoulder to keep balance, and stuck his hand at Walt, faltering as he spared a glance for the wing at Walt's side. The magician looked down, and hummed in mild annoyance.

"Not the best form," he admitted. "I haven't had the best of luck changing it, but I can at least try." He focused and a moment later, his form shimmered to a more human shape. It flickered, but remained human, so he stepped away from the door and offered a hand. Nico hesitated only a moment before taking it.

"Keep in mind," he growled, "this doesn't mean I like you..." Walt grinned slightly.

"Of course not," he replied, releasing Nico's hand. "Anubis, though... He thinks you're rather interesting."

What am I, chopped liver? Heka snorted, startling me; I hadn't realized he was still a part of me, even in a dream. I sensed his amusement at my surprise, and the amusement turned to humor, probably at Anubis' reply, since Walt glanced at me curiously.

What was that about? I asked Heka.

It's a long story, Ras, for another time, he chuckled.

Don't call me Ras, I said.

"I should go," Nico began, starting to move. I grabbed his arm.

"No." If there was one thing I wouldn't allow, it was that he would shadow-travel himself to death. Literally. And if he left this dream before he was properly rested, I would never forgive myself should he actually try. "Stay here until you feel stronger; I won't let you go while you're this tired."

"But–"

"He has a point," Walt cut in. "If you can't even stand on your own, how do you plan on doing anything helpful?"

"Assuming you can even leave," I added. "Remember what happened last time you tried to leave my dream?" I made a zero with one hand, indicating the fruitlessness of Nico's last attempt. The son of Hades gritted his teeth, and I could tell he was moments from drawing his Stygian sword against Walt. Or me. Or both.

I put my hand over the hilt just as his hand reached for it, and our fingers brushed. He cast me a warning glare; apparently he was more angry at Walt than me, but his look said that could easily change.

"No," I said again, firmly, returning his glare without so much as a wink. He gave in with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a scoff, scowling at the ground. I looked over at Walt, who was watching with an amused smile playing at his lips.

"My ba is about to take off for some other fun adventure," he said, "so... see ya. Hope no one else stumbles on your dreams." Before I could respond, he floated through the door. Blushing hotly, I turned and helped Nico back onto the bed. Well, more like I forced him; he kept trying to stand, and I kept pushing him back.

"Nico, you need rest," I said. He shook his head.

"I need to get out of here and back to Coach and Reyna," he said stubbornly.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure they'd agree with me on t-" I cut off as I gave him a shove that was a bit more forceful than I'd meant to and he flailed, grabbing my arm. He still toppled, taking me with him. I landed straddling him, my hands on either side of his head to keep from knocking mine against his. He stared up at me through the black veil of his hair, red slowly coloring his cheeks.

"...this..." I finished, readying an apology. The barest hint of longing in his gaze chased away all thoughts of saying "I'm sorry."

"Why do you always land on me?" he whispered. Unable to control myself, I leaned down and touched my lips to his ear.

"It's not always my fault," I returned, catching his ear lobe between my teeth. He hissed, though not in pain or anger, and his hands found my hips. I swung my legs around and almost yanked him fully on the bed before straddling him again, pressing my lips to his. He opened his mouth and slid his tongue across mine. I groaned, half in pleasure as guilt-filled ecstasy shot through me, half in embarrassment as I felt myself reacting. His knee lifted, touching me, and I felt him grin through our kiss.

"I thought this was wrong in your beliefs," he noted, biting my lower lip. I blushed, but stayed where I was.

"It is," I replied. "I'm a sinner, and I wouldn't be surprised if I go to a place you couldn't visit."

"Wouldn't need to try," he said, taking my hand. "Because I'd be there, too." He put my hand on his groin, where I felt a bulge that mirrored mine. I pulled back to look him in the eye. His face was still red, yet he met my gaze levelly. I smiled softly and lowered myself onto him, pressing my body flush to his, sliding my hands under his shirt. His breath hitched and he put his hands on my shoulders.

"Sit up," he whispered. I paused, and then obeyed. He sat up as well and tugged his shirt over his head. Tossing it aside, he glanced up at me, and I seriously thought my pants would tear; as it was, there was a rather large tent.

I moved without thinking, pushing him down on the bed, invading his mouth, and running my fingertips across his surprisingly muscled chest. One of his hands tangled in my hair, keeping me there, and the other slipped to my waist, pulling me down on him. I could feel his reaction against mine, and developed a desperate desire to taste him. With my mouth still locked to his, I reached between us and unzipped his pants. He hesitated, then lifted himself so that I could push his pants down. I broke the kiss and slid down his heated body to take him in my mouth. Even never having done this before, I knew to suck gently, feeling him harden more, gasping. He reached down and tugged at my hair, panting heavily. I gave him what he silently begged for, nearly laughing when he took my headrest and pressed it to his face to muffle his groans.

When he came, strangling a cry of absolute pleasure, I nearly choked, but managed to swallow it all. I straddled his half naked body and kissed his throat, feeling the steady, racing beat of his heart. He reached up slowly and pressed his fingers to my face. Somehow, they were cold. He lifted his head and molded his lips to mine, weakly. Then he fell back. For a moment, I was scared, but his gentle snoring assured me he was just exhausted. I sighed and sat up.

"Sure, leave me to take care of myself, why don't you?" I muttered.

It was his first time, of course he passed out, Heka said. Startled, I jumped, tumbling off the bed with a soft thump.

...Please tell me you weren't paying attention to that... I said. He laughed.

Of course I was! He was perfectly frank. Great. I groaned and stood.

Could you just go away or something? I asked him, picking up Nico's shirt. I laid it over the chair of my desk and tugged his pants back onto him, trying not to wake him. After settling him into my bed and drawing up the covers, I grabbed a box of tissues, knowing I'd need them to clean up. As much as I hated myself for it, this wouldn't be the first time I'd jacked off.

I could, Heka answered finally, but you're just too interesting.

At least be quiet, I said, waiting until I felt him retreat before dropping my sweatpants and kneeling beside the bed. I touched myself, glancing at Nico and feeling myself harden almost in an instant. I winced, rubbing hard and trying to imagine him helping me. A knot of pleasure built up in my stomach, shooting through my veins and collecting in my brain like a disease. But it was slow, taking what seemed like forever.

"Come on, damn it," I murmured, stroking faster. I had it just right for a moment and gasped, but then it was gone. What would it take to get rid of this?

"Need help?" a smooth voice whispered sleepily in my ear. I looked up at Nico as he reached down and took me in his cold fingers. My body reacted instantly, heat pooling and coiling in my gut, and I tilted my head back, letting out a silent moan but refusing to actually make a sound. He stopped and moved back a bit, saying, "Get on the bed."

When I did, he stretched out by my side and put his hand to my groin. I turned to face him, putting my lips on the corner of his mouth. He ran his tongue across them and moved his mouth to my ear.

"My turn," he whispered huskily, stroking me lightly. I relaxed and let him take over. His mouth and hands moved slowly, with the uncertainty of an amateur, but deliberately, with the surety of one who knows what he's doing, if not how. Bliss clouded my senses, and I lost myself in his touch, wanting nothing more than to forget the world and bury myself in him. Literally and figuratively. The moment I came, I snatched the tissue box and cleaned us both up, wiping off the sheets as well. Nico watched me with a veiled expression.

"Have you done this before?" he asked. I paused, noting the slight strain in his voice; he was angry and anxious.

"...To myself," I said softly, tossing the spent tissues at the wastebasket by the desk. I turned to him and placed my hand on the curve of his neck. "You're my first." It didn't matter to me that this was only a dream—one I fully intended to make reality if possible—I wanted him to know I was serious about this, and I made sure to look him in the eye, so he'd know for sure I wasn't lying, though my embarrassment made it the last thing I wanted to do. The look of suspicion in his gaze changed almost instantly to guilt. He glanced away, but I turned him toward me and gently brushed his lips with mine.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shouldn't be so..." He paused, holding my gaze as he tried to think of the word he wanted.

"Jealous?" I suggested, grinning. He snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Go to sleep," he said, laying down. "Or wake up, or whatever." His avoidance of the option told me I'd hit the mark, and I smirked. I took only a moment to pull on my sweatpants and then laid down beside him, tugging the blankets over us. He was already half asleep, laying on my headrest, and I smiled, leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Good night, Nico," I said softly. To myself, I finished the statement, though I would never say it aloud: I love you...