Six Months Later

I feel a claw dig into my sternum.

I know it's a claw because I can feel the hot, stinking breath of the owner of said claw on my face. Smells like rot.

I hear a growl, presumably from the owner of said claw. I don't really know what's going on. Well, I do, but I don't know why. There's a sharp feeling in my neck, like something stabbed me in the jugular. Something probably did. I feel a warm, sticky substance trickle down my throat. Yup. Definitely stabbed.

"NOT YET, ALEXIOS." There's a loud, booming voice and the claw retracts from my diaphragm.

Taptaptaptaptap

I bold up with a yelp, staring at my window. The tapping, which I now determined to have come from a branch in the wind, had ceased.

I cringe, feeling my neck with one hand and my sternum with the other. Both are perfectly fine.

I go to the kitchen, feeling the soft carpet under my feet. Typically, it's a gross sensation, but tonight it feels comforting. My dads are "out" on "business", which explains why I'm home alone. Then again, their business is on Olympus, and so is mine. I was just banned from doing business. I rub the back of my neck again, getting out the loose tea and our kettle. I pour my water idly and stare out the window.

It's winter- no snow yet, but a slight sheen covers everything. It's taunting- not enough ice to warrant a snow day, more than enough to make driving and getting out of the house tricky. I hate Earth weather.

I wait for the water to boil. I drum my fingers across the table, waiting for the whistle to signal that my water is ready to pour.

There's a furious knocking at my front door. I freeze.

The knock pauses.

There's a snort. I grab a kitchen knife.

More knocking.

The door unlocks. I cringe, holding the knife behind my back. I see a shadow make its way down the hall, accompanied by one more. They're girls, I can tell by the curves.

I throw the knife at the first shadow, quickly grabbing a new one. The figures freeze.

There's a whistle.

The tea.

Shit.

The figures start running towards the kitchen.

I hold the knife in front of me, slowly rounding the corner. I don't dare blink. I arch an eyebrow, setting my jaw and my stance.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY GODDAMN HOUSE?" I yell, clearly startling the fully-dressed and impeccable looking Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray. They're out of Cheerio uniforms, and instead are in jeans with normal-looking tops. It's odd to see them in street clothes.

"Jesus Christ, you threw that?" Santana says, gesturing to the wall. I nod, my stance getting progressively lower.

"Quinn, that's silver." Santana mutters lightly. Quinn backs up a bit. Good. I don't know why silver has anything to do with anything, but it scared Quinn-the-home-invader, and that's good.

"You had a nightmare." Quinn states slowly.

"And how exactly did you know that?" I ask, my grip on the knife tightening.

"Rachel, put down the knife. Please, we aren't going to hurt you." Santana whispers. I think there's genuine fear in her eyes. How odd. This entire night is odd.

I let the knife fall.

Quinn attacks me soon after.

It takes me a minute to realize that she's not trying to kill me, just hugging me very, very tightly.

"I'm so glad you're okay." She breathes into my hair.

I squeak and she lets go of me, panting slightly. "I'm so glad you're okay." She repeats, giving me a once-over and then meeting my gaze. She recoils at my glare.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I snarl.

I see a flash in Santana's eyes. My hand inches towards another knife on the counter. She sees it. Then she tackles me to the ground.

"Rachel, please don't hate me." She whispers, directly before she shoves something in my neck. I feel my limbs go absolutely numb. I'm conscious, but I'm practically putty. My body feels like a dead weight. This isn't right. I shouldn't be contained by this.

I'm lifted off the ground, presumably by Santana.

I feel myself being carried out to a car and shoved into the backseat. Quinn sits passenger. I let out a low groan. Quinn flinches. Santana starts to drive.

I feel slight tingles in my fingertips, and they spread up my arms and to my neck and down my body and to my toes. I can move, albeit at the speed of smell, but still, I can move.

I glare at my apparent kidnappers.

"There are easier ways to alert me of your presence than to bang on my door in the middle of the night." I whisper. My voice is hoarse. I cough.

Quinn flinches. I see her throw a nervous, searching glance at Santana, who grins in response.

"Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?"

I hear a light chuckle from Santana.

"Let's just say you're going to have a hell of a night, Berry. Or, as we say here- Hades."

I don't ask any more questions. After we've been driving for about ten minutes, Quinn turns around to face me.

"Rachel…" she mutters, pushing my hair away from my face. It had fallen there a few minutes ago and I couldn't move it fast enough to keep it out.

"What the hell do you want with me?" I spit. Her hand retracts. She turns back around.

After about five more minutes, we stop. I think we're at one of their houses, because it's a large structure on a private road.

I feel myself being lifted from the car. I'm shoved through a door. I hear the door lock. The lights flick on.

"Okay Berry, welcome to Chez Lopez." Santana chuckles, seating me in a couch.

I glare at her.

"Why am I here?" I ask again, this time sounding less intimidating and more defeated.

"Rachel, do you know anything about Greek mythology?"

I shake my head yes, still glaring.

Quinn takes over. "Do you know what a demigod is?"

I narrow my eyes. Of course I do. Who the fuck do they think they are?

"Why am I here?" I ask slowly, glancing around. We're in a basement, for sure. Concrete walls and floor. A few training mats in a corner. Sound system. Fridge. The works.

"Rachel, everyone has a little godly blood in them. Every single human on this Earth. And then, there are the few of us that have more blood than everyone else-demigods. My dad is Zeus. Santana's was-" she's cut off by Santana herself.

"My father is of no concern to anyone but Quinn and myself." She snarls, glaring at me.

"You haven't answered my question." I purse my lips, cocking a brow at Quinn. Are they trying to tell me about my own damn lineage?

"You're here because we think you're a demigod. You've exhibited all the signs, you've shown small amounts of power."

"Great. So who's my godly parent?" I smirk lightly, leaning back into the couch. "Enlighten me."

"We've gone through all the possibilities, Rachel, and we think your mom is Hera." Quinn steps in, clearly not taking my hint of sarcasm.

"Wrong." I let the word drop from my mouth. I think it knocks the wind from Quinn and Santana.

"Wait, you know? You knew?" Santana splutters. I grin.

"My father is Hades. When gods die, they regenerate. Sort of like Doctor Who, except they can rotate genders when they regenerate." I curl my lip.

"But…Hades?" Quinn glances at Santana. I smirk. "No, no, Hades isn't possible…"

I curl my fingers up and into my palm, willing shadow to draw to my hand. I take Quinn's shadow first. Hm. That's interesting. It appears her shadow doesn't want to leave.

I narrow my eyes and will it closer. She's protected. Interesting. I cock my head and break the protection. Quinn gasps loudly.

Santana's eyes widen.

"Rachel…" she whispers.

I smirk. "But the best part," I pause, twisting Quinn's shadow towards me. She collapses. "Is that I have two dads. No mom. I was conceived when Hades regenerated as a male and Poseidon as a female."

Santana takes a step back.

I glare at her. "Coward."

Quinn has a pained, tortured look to her face. It's warranted- Zeus kids have a hard time parting with their light. Pity too, they could be so powerful if they could survive without it. They're so easy to manipulate this way.

I release her shadow, reinstating her protection.

In my other hand, I toy with a ball of water. I narrow my eyes at Quinn and Santana, letting the water evaporate and the shadow dissipate.

"Do your fucking research before you assume, Santana. Why am I here in the first place?"

"Most of Hades' kids have turned against him and started a resistance to the gods. Which is why I'm not affiliated with my father anymore." Santana says quietly.

I chuckle. "Santana, your resentment needs a check. Hades has nothing to do with this. It's your siblings that are the problem."

Quinn still looks out of breath. I roll my eyes and snap my fingers. The ground shudders mildly before a brick of ambrosia appears, held by a skeletal hand. I take it.

I break off a piece and hand it to Quinn, who handles it suspiciously. I gnaw on the brick, grinning at the pair.

"Rachel, be careful…" Quinn warns. I smirk.

"Quinn sweetie," I pause, taking another bite. "What happens when a god and a god make babies?"

"Another god results." Quinn responds immediately. I swallow.

"My father is Hades. My pseudo-mother is Poseidon. Do the math." I smirk again.

Quinn's jaw drops.

I finish the brick.

"I have a tendency to be better with Hades than with Poseidon, though. My dark powers flow better than my water stuff." I grin, twisting a small flame into a dancing ballerina and then extinguishing it immediately after.

Santana advances towards me. Her eyes are narrowed.

"How old are you?"

"Eh. 400, give or take." I say with a sickly sweet smile. Santana curls her lip.

Quinn narrows her eyes. "Then why the hell are you having nightmares about Alexios Argyros?"

I smirk. "Darling, you forget that gods have enemies too. The difference being that I can't actually die… and he can."

The room goes quiet for several beats.

"Gods can't use their powers on Earth. It's against The Treaty." Quinn murmurs, staring at my newest creation.

"Olympus revoked that rule for me and only me a few weeks ago. They saw that I was going crazy without power release. Imagine a small power block, but constant, never leaving, and as big as Hoover Dam."

There's another silence. Quinn still looks terrified and clammy.

I walk over to her. She flinches.

I purse my lips. "Quinn, are you planning on going to war with the rebels?"

Quinn nods shakily.

"Well, you better get used to that feeling. If most of the children are from Hades, chances are at least a few know how to get around protection charms. Don't be so shaken up about it." I mutter the last part.

She meets my gaze with a rock solid glare.

"My soul was just ripped from my body via a shadow. Pardon me for needing a little recovery time." She says coolly. I see Santana lower her stance slightly. I see her start to form a small ball of shadow. I knock her over with a ball of water. She lands with a thud.

I let my hand graze Quinn's forearm. She shivers.

I smile. "Are you going to ask for recovery time when the demigods are shooting shit at you?" I whisper quietly. She shakes her head, slowly.

"Well," I grin, stepping back, "It appears I found the army that my dad told me to look for. Now, all you need is training. Who else is there?"

Santana blushes a deep crimson. "This is all we have so far."

"Well, we're fucked."