a/n: A thousand thanks to zynaofthenight, rainkisses908 and MegartXD for the reviews! (Note to RainKisses: Percy is such an awesome character that if I tried to write anything about him, my clumsy fingers would mess it up entirely!)

Please, please, review!

Chapter Two

I slept feverishly. I woke, glimpsed faces and people, slept and dreamt of running. The man didn't enter my dreams once. I could hear a low conversation, but it kept fading. Someone was touching me, cold fingers trailing across my skin. I was moved about- somebody touched my wound and I gasped. And the pain; always the pain. It surrounded my body like mist, smothering but never quite touching me.

I was called two names: Fingers and Tanitha. They started to interwind. Tinger and Fantha. I tried to speak but my voice slurred like a drunkard. My heart felt small, compressed. It took more effort to breath. I woke suddenly. My head was being held upright the boy. Dylan, my confused mind offered. Yes, that was what the girl had called him. He pushed a small square into my mouth. 'Ambrosia,' He whispered. 'It should remove the poison from your bloodstream, help you sleep comfortably.' Poison? I tried to sit up, but I was still weak. 'Whoa, whoa. Don't move. You need to rest.'

The square melted in my mouth. It tasted amazing, a mixture of warm bread steaming from the oven, simple tomato soup and clean, pure, cold water. He gently lay my head back down on my pack. I fell deeply asleep and didn't dream.

I woke. Keeping still, I investigated. My head was clear and I felt almost normal again, although my wounded side was stinging. While I slept, someone had bandaged it up neatly. I could hear Dylan talking, and water running. He was obviously trying to be as quiet as possible. I opened my eyes a crack and saw the girl. She was fast asleep, her mouth slightly open. Cute freckles rested on her tanned cheeks. It was early morning. I closed my eyes and listened.

'...the new girl, she's a demigod.' Dylan murmured. I suddenly realised he was talking about me. What on earth is a demigod? Then, to my surprise, somebody replied. 'Well, bring her back to camp then! Why are you telling me this?' Who was that? I didn't recognise the voice at all. He sounded male and impatient. Dylan lowered his voice and said, 'She's a very powerful demigod. The most powerful I've seen for a very long time.' Me? Powerful? There was a heavy sigh. 'Well, be more careful then.'

The sound of water trickled to a stop. I felt, rather than heard, Dylan's footsteps as he walked close by me. With a huff he sat down. I could hear paper rustling and the scratch of a pen. He was writing something. I lay, pretending to sleep, for as long as I could manage. Then I started getting fidgety. Yawning, I turned over and sat up. Dylan casually covered his writing with his hand, but I wasn't fooled. Writing about me? I decided that I really didn't like him. Talking about me behind my back, writing about me... even if he did bandage my wound.

'You're up early,' He commented. Was it that obvious?

I didn't want to tell him anything. 'Am I?' I asked. 'I guess the sun woke me up.' Faint rays where beginning to filter through the low clouds. I stood up, stretching the sleep from my bones. A sudden flash of pain brought my hand to my side. 'Ouch,' I muttered. Dylan looked concerned, almost like the parent I never had. Stop thinking that! I told myself. I tried to make myself hate him.

'Where's my pack?' I demanded. I knew I was being rude. 'I need to head back now. It was real nice of you to take care of me, but-'

Dylan interjected. 'I'm sorry. You can't leave.'

'What?' My tone was indignant. 'Why on earth not?'

Dylan was stern. 'One, your wound hasn't been cleaned properly. It could get infected. I don't have the right equipment on me, so I'll have to take you back to camp to do it there. Two...' He paused, looked me in the eye. 'You are far too dangerous to be roaming the streets by yourself. I can't let you stay here.' Then he turned his back on me and began packing his rucksack with such an air of finality that I was taken aback. I didn't need to try and hate him anymore.

I had lived with the gang for seven years. I knew that the longer I stayed away from them, the less lightly I was to be allowed back in. They where the closest thing I had to family, and he was going to walk into my life and change everything? Who cares if my wound gets infected! And dangerous! Where we talking about the same person?

'Why can't you take me to a local hospital?' I asked angrily. 'They'll sort my wound out, easy-peasy. And as for dangerous... can you please tell me how I am dangerous? And where's this 'Camp' place?' I stopped ranting, gasped for breath.

Dylan sighed. 'I knew this wasn't going to be easy,' He muttered. Then he raised his voice and told me; 'No hospital will have even seen a wound like that. They would never let you leave. As for dangerous, that wasn't the first time a monster came after you, was it?' I was unsure if I should reply, tell him that they had been coming for me more and more lately. As I shook my head, I thought I saw a flash of sympathy- but then his face turned stony again. 'The camp? A two-day journey away, if you don't slow us down. Please pack your bag, we need to leave soon.'

His words confused and irritated me. There was something he wasn't telling me: hospitals didn't see those wounds for a reason. The reason was that they where kept hidden. And they where kept hidden and confined to areas such as...

'...the camp!'

Dylan looked up from his packing. 'Pardon?' He frowned.

'Oh, um... The camp you mentioned. What's it like?' He was glad to get off the subject of my leaving. He properly thought I was coming with him. I properly was. Smiling, Dylan gazed into the distance. 'Its one of the only places where demigods can live without drawing attention to themselves. For most, Camp Half-Blood is the only place they can feel free.'

So I was right. This camp was a huge secret. He was clearly telling me the secret. But what was a 'demigod'? He had called me one earlier, in his conversation to that other man. And wasn't Camp Half-Blood a sinister name? He cleared his throat and turned back to his packing. With his back to me, he asked, 'Go wake Derren up, will you?'

Derren! So she had a name. I had completely forgotten about her. Was she still sleeping? Yes. I looked at the sky. The sun was now fully up, its brave light shining down every alley and across every skyscraper. I would've thought that would wake her up. Mind you, who was I to question a normal person's sleeping patterns? It wasn't like I slept a normal amount.

Crouching down, I gently shook her shoulder. 'Derren? Wake up.' A moan. She turned over and wrinkled her nose. Her light brown hair was tousled and messy, but glossy. 'Get up, Derren.' She suddenly woke, her green eyes flicking open so suddenly I was startled. She glared at me before standing up. 'My name-' she said firmly. '-is Dee, whatever he may tell you.' I smiled. Her voice inferred that she didn't like Dylan either. We stood awkwardly for a few seconds before she asked, 'What's your name?'

I could leave the gang without crying, I could be chased by a monster for hours before fainting, and I could sleep four hours a night and still not be tired- but I couldn't answer a simple question. I honestly didn't know what name to give her. Was I still Fingers, the homeless pickpocket? Or now that I had left the gang had I become Tanitha again, the girl with everything- including a safe, easy life and parents? No. I defiantly wasn't Fingers any longer, and I wasn't exactly Tanitha either... I suddenly knew what I would call myself.

'My name is Tan.' I told them, and myself. 'Short for Tanith.' Not exactly a lie, but not the truth either.

'Cool.' Dee said. 'Oh, I still have your knife...' From under her pillow she drew out the knife. Looking at the long blade, free from the bloodstains, brought the memories of last night back in vivid detail. I had run for miles from the monster, and hadn't even considered fighting it. Whereas Dee had picked the knife up and killed it in one blow. I was ashamed of being such a wimp. She could keep the knife- I no longer deserved it.

'You keep it.' I said lightly, untying the sheath from my belt and handing it to her. 'But...' Dee's eyes where clouded with confusion. '...It's yours.'

'You killed the monster, you keep the knife.' Dee looked at me and smiled. Her green eyes sparkled like sunlight catching water. For the first time since I had left the gang, I felt something like hope. Maybe this Camp wouldn't be so bad: if I had a friend like Dee by my side.

a/n: Sorry about the soppy ending... compared to the last chapter this one is rather tame. Please review!