A/N: Hiya Sparks! Sorry I was gone for three days, but I was trying to think of how I wanted this chapter to turn out. Shout out to the guest that gave me quite a few ideas to work with! I hope this is what you meant, but anyways, I liked how it turned out. Please enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: Still not Rick Riordan...*sigh*


Sally had been in the middle of shopping for baby clothes when Poseidon Iris messaged her. Normally, she wouldn't have jumped at hearing someone's voice over the rainbow, but she was in a public place, and people would peg her as insane if they saw her talking to no one. She reached in her purse for her phone, putting it up to her ear like she was taking a call, and motioned for Poseidon to start talking.

Poseidon looked like he had aged at least fifty years from the last time she had saw him in the hospital. His black hair had gone completely white; his skin was white as milk; worry lines were etched deeply into his face; and from what she could see of his body, his shirt hung limply off his shoulders. Either the sea was under attack again, or something so emotionally draining that his appearance reflected his mood. Whatever it was, Sally knew it couldn't have been good.

"Poseidon, what happened?" she asked, searching his emerald green eyes for any clues. The usual spark of happiness she would see in his eyes seemed to be snuffed out, and for the first time since they met, Sally truly saw just how old Poseidon was. He had seen the rise and fall of several million civilizations, had seen death and destruction like no other, not to mention the fact he was probably traumatized at one point in his life from being eaten by Kronos.

The god of the seas sighed; a gaunt, bony hand ran through his hair. He looked so absolutely exhausted, and Sally wanted to know what was making this once proud god stoop so low.

"He's gone," Poseidon said simply, his voice cracking.

Sally dropped the pink, frilly dress she had been looking at in suppressed shock. She had no doubt in her mind who this "he" was. It could be the only explanation that Poseidon was telling her himself instead of Nico or Jason dropping by to tell her the news.

Tears started to blur her vision, and it didn't help that her pregnancy hormones made her more susceptible to emotions. She choked back a sob. "How long have you known?"

He recoiled like he had been slapped, tears so obviously cascading down his face. It pained Sally to see Poseidon like this, but even though Percy was his favorite child, he would always be able to have more, grow close to them like he had done with Percy-but for her, Percy was her only son, the only thing that she could truly call hers for fifteen years. Then she met Paul, moved into a new apartment, and now, she was expecting a baby girl, who was due in three months. But before all of that, it had just been her and Percy, just the two of them.

When Poseidon didn't respond, Sally continued pushing. "How long have you known?!" She didn't scream, but you would have to be deaf to miss the hysteria in her voice.

"Six months," he answered through his tears. He vehemently wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, but new ones came streaming down just as fast as he could wipe them.

Sally immediately felt a strong sense of betrayal. When Hera had kidnapped him, she had found out the very next day when a distraught Annabeth nearly knocked her door down. Now, the same amount of time had almost passed (eight months), and she was just finding out about this. Why had none of his friends told her? Why didn't Poseidon tell her as soon as he knew? It wasn't like Olympus was on lockdown anymore. As far as she knew, there was nothing stirring to destroy the world. But that was probably a positive outlook; there were millions of beings more ancient than the gods, and surely some of them had grudges they would like to repay.

Sally licked her suddenly dry lips, the worst possible thing imaginable idea running through the forefront of her mind. "Is he…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Instead, she rephrased her question, but either way, she would get the same answer. "Is he with Annabeth?"

Poseidon's eyes widened. "I wish, Sally-"

That was all she heard before her grief gave way to anger. How dare he wish that Percy was dead! If the heat she felt flushing her cheeks was anything to go by, she knew she was probably trying to beat a tomato for a new shade of red. She knew the stress couldn't be good for the baby, but she was too caught up in the moment to rationally think.

"You wish?!" she exclaimed loudly, causing for a few of the other shoppers to turn their heads in her direction. She mouthed relationship issues, to which she got understanding nods in return. "You want our son dead? What in the name of your brother is wrong with you?!"

Poseidon violently flinched at the accusation. "What? No! Annabeth's alive, and she has been ever since the winter solstice! I'm saying I wish he was with Annabeth, because at least I'd know that he is still alive!"

Her anger fled as soon as it had come, grief settling in again. So…Percy was dead? Or was he just missing again? These was one of those times Sally wished gods wouldn't be so cryptic so that they would get straight to the point.

"Okay. Sorry for my outburst, but I didn't know that," Sally apologized. "But Percy's dead, is what you're trying to tell me."

"Hades summoned his soul in front of the council last winter, but it was barely enough of a soul to make him convinced that Percy was truly dead. We think that someone kidnapped him, trying to turn him against the gods, but only now have we really found out whom we're up against."

Sally bit her lip, stifling a groan. "Great, our son in the middle of another war. Can't you guys just patch up your relationships with everything older than you? That would save Western Civilization a lot of problems."

Poseidon gave a weak laugh, smiling at her optimism. "We're still learning all the details, Sally, but the second I hear anything about Percy, I'll let you know. But honestly, I think he's alive."

Sally breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank the gods. I'm holding you to that promise, Poseidon. It better be your voice telling me that Percy is alive first, or I'll wait by Montauk for you, and we are going to have words exchanged."

"Yes, ma'am. And Paul would be okay with that?"

"Paul treats Percy like a son, and he knows I love him; he'll be fine with me giving you an earful."

This time, Poseidon gave an actual laugh, and some of that mirth seemed to find its way back into his eyes. Sally was surprised she still had such an effect on the sea god, but that was a chapter of her life she already passed. She had Percy as a memory of their time together, and one child of the sea was enough. She rubbed a hand on her showing stomach, praying to all the gods that this baby wouldn't have to go through the hardships her brother went through.

"We'll bring him home, Sally. I promise."

"That's a second promise I have to hold you to," Sally said, amused that thee god was throwing around his word so freely. Inside, she was really wishing Poseidon would stop making promises he wasn't sure he could keep.

"I've got to go, Sally." Poseidon sighed, but some of the color seemed to have returned to his skin during the conversation. His hair wasn't as white anymore, and his shirt didn't hang so limply. "Another war council being held."

"Well, I don't want to be the reason you're holding everyone up." Sally gave him a knowing smile, sure that he would rather spend the entire time talking to her than listening to gods blather on and one about battle strategies and such. "Go, Poseidon."

He gave her one last warm, genuine smile before swiping a hand through the Iris message. Sally sighed, putting her phone back into her bag, before reaching down to pick up the clothes she had dropped in her brief moment of rage.

As she straightened up, rubbing a sore spot on her back from hunching over, she felt someone grab her shoulders. Before she could do anything, a cloth covered in a sickly sweet smell was smothering her face, clamped tightly over her mouth and nose.

"Look, we've got the prize," a voice said, sounding like hissing spider.

Finally the need for oxygen became too great, and Sally inhaled. Within a few seconds, her vision faded to black.


Percy stormed into his room, throwing the door shut so hard that it shuddered on its hinges. He grabbed a fistful of hair, contemplating whether he should've just ripped it out of his scalp. He decided not to, but he did rip the epaulettes of his jacket, leaving a gold kind of mark on the shoulders of the black jacket. He snapped the dog tags of his off his neck, throwing it into a drawer full of pictures of people he didn't know. Probably soldiers that had died long before he came.

He went to rip the necklace Pontus gave him off his neck, but as his fingers reached the teardrop charm, he dropped his hand to the side. There was something preventing him from destroying the necklace, yet it felt like an iron shackle around his throat. It was like he was betraying Pontus by doing that, but at the same time, he wasn't. Percy was stuck at an ultimatum: choosing between his past life that he knew nothing about, or this life, where he was a general, yet he couldn't trust anyone in here enough to have his back.

Percy went to reach for the pictures in the drawers, trying to see if he could identify any of them. There was one of a girl with curly blonde hair, sitting in front of the Lincoln Memorial, holding a Yankees cap in her hand, wearing an orange Camp Half-Blood tee, looking extremely proud. There was another of a young boy with black hair, holding a bunch of what appeared to be trading cards and little statues, smiling happily, while tugging on what could've been his sister's coattail. Another picture showed a girl with chocolate colored skin and an Asian boy cuddling together, holding a piece of wood in their hands.

Something burned in the back of Percy's mind. These people looked so familiar, but he couldn't identify a single one of them. They looked kind of like the prisoners in the dungeons, but if they were from either camp, these people most likely were already slaughtered-either by him or Kronos.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a melodic voice singing "Welcome to the Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance from the bathroom. That was one of his favorite bands, he recalled, but he couldn't remember the last time he had heard their music. Too long, he supposed.

It was then that he realized that Nico was still prisoner in his room. Nico, who claimed to know Percy, even though he had been taught to hate the son of Hades. Maybe he had some answers as to why he was feeling this way.

Percy hummed along to the tune, entranced by how accurately Nico hit the notes. He probably could sing better than most Apollo kids, but Percy couldn't attest to that-Pontus hated singing. If it wasn't for Thalassa's pleasure, there was no singing allowed in front of him or any of the generals. Percy personally hated that rule, because he would always sing to himself in private whenever he had the chance.

When Nico finished that song, he began singing "The Kids Aren't Alright" by Fall Out Boy, another one of Percy's favorite bands. He hated most pop music, but other bands like FOB, MCR, Panic! At the Disco, Green Day, and Blink-182 were the kind of music he enjoyed.

A few minutes later, Nico came out of the bathroom wearing the clothes a servant had left out for him, his hair still damp from his shower. Steam fogged up the bathroom, but it didn't really bother Percy. Water was something he could use as an advantage-why hinder it?

Nico yelped when he realized that Percy was sitting on the bed, giving him a questioning look. Percy blushed at being caught listening to Nico sing, but he still looked at the son of Hades, trying to take in the small details with his eyes.

A dusty pink color graced his cheeks, and the gleam in his eyes made him appear like a cornered animal. His hands were seemingly steady, but Percy saw that he was trembling-from fear or cold, he didn't know. Nico took a few steps back, getting his bearings.

"W-what do you want with me?" Nico asked, fear evident in his voice. He started to retreat back into the bathroom, trying to put as much distance between himself and Percy as possible.

Percy got up from the bed, holding his hands out in a placating manner. He moved slowly, as to not scare Nico more than he already was. The son of Hades wasn't one to get frightened easily, Percy knew that, but the big doe-eyes that he was giving him made his heart melt and clench at the same time. He looked adorable, despite being helpless, but he knew he was receiving that look because Nico was afraid…afraid of him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Nico," Percy said cautiously. He neared Nico, making the other boy back up even more until his back was pressed up against the wall of the bathroom. He heard a small whimper escape Nico's mouth, something he would've never imagined hearing from Nico before.

Percy glanced at how he was holding himself, and he could tell why Nico felt intimidated. He had his shoulders back, his head held high, and walked with confidence, all how he had been trained to. But when it came to approaching someone who was scared, he could see how it made the person even more jumpy. He loosened his posture, bending his knees so he was about the same height. He made sure that his expression wasn't one of happiness or emotionlessness, but one of concern.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Percy repeated, taking a few steps back, giving Nico enough of a berth to feel comfortable-he hoped, at least. "I just have some questions for you."

"Are you going to torture me just like you did to Jason if I don't?" he asked, still flatly pressed against the wall. It was like he was trying to become one with the tiles.

Percy flinched. How had he heard about that? He swallowed a lump in the back of his throat as Nico's eyes widened in understanding. He had whipped Nico's friend, putting a huge rift in the little trust he had earned.

"No!" Percy exclaimed. "No, I wouldn't dream of hurting you Nico."

"Yet you whip my friends like they're slaves!"

"They're prisoners! And so are you! If you had talked back like this to anyone other than me, I can assure you that your back would be so bloody, it would be a miracle if any of your skin wasn't scar tissue!"

Nico flinched back violently, his head bumping against the wall. "You're a monster," he spat venomously. "You're nothing like the Percy I remember. My Percy wouldn't have hurt his friends!"

"Well, news flash! I'm not him! I've stopped being the Percy you remember ever since you and my bastard father sold me off to this place! I'm a solider now, one that follows orders and has no emotions."

"Would you stop saying that I sold you off?!" Nico screamed. "I didn't, and your father loves you Perseus Jackson, so stop accusing us! You were kidnapped from us, turned into someone you're not!"

"What do you mean I was kidnapped?" Percy asked, his anger morphing into confusion. "Pontus said-"

"He lied to you, Percy! That's all they've done this whole time-lie! And you, being brainwashed and all, believed it." Nico's face turned into one of great sorrow and loss, different from the anger clouding his expression earlier. "And there's nothing I can do to change that."

Percy pursed his lips together in a pensive moment. So for the past six months he's been fed lies? No wonder he felt so out of place all this time, especially with at least one of the generals-or Pontus-breathing down his neck every day. If he truly was with the gods, and his father loved him as much as Nico claimed he did, then that meant he had been kidnapped and brainwashed. He had been turned into Pontus' little puppet, with Pontus being the puppeteer, blindly fighting for him without ever asking why.

He looked down at his hands-calloused and scarred and covered in blood. Not his blood, but the blood of innocents that he had viciously razed down in the name of Pontus. He had killed an innumerable amount of children, just because they were children of gods that sided with Olympus. This was a fight between Olympus and Pontus, not the children barely old enough to even properly hold a sword correctly, let alone fight for their parents.

"Percy?" Nico asked timidly. Percy looked up, and it looked like he had gotten comfortable enough to be leaning against the wall instead of cowering against it. "What are you thinking?"

"It's my fault," he mumbled, running both hands through his hair, before clasping them together behind his neck. Percy began rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet, feeling his pulse start to accelerate with every beat of his heart. "It's all my fault!" He lashed out, punching the mirror so hard that glass sprayed everywhere.

He welcomed the familiar feeling of pain as the glass stuck in his hand burned. Percy pulled the bigger pieces out with his bare hand, while he used tweezers for the smaller pieces.

"Idiota," Nico cursed under his breath, helping Percy get the glass out of his hand. "It's okay to feel guilty, Percy. But was putting your fist through that mirror the best idea?"

"I needed to vent," he said, wincing as the cold tweezers grazed one of the open cuts.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Nah. Just, get on with it. I don't know how much glass is inside my hand, so I can't heal it with water right away."

Nico shrugged, discarding a bloodied shard into the garbage. "Makes sense."

There was a long period of silence, only filled by Percy when he hissed or winced in pain. Percy watched Nico work, and couldn't help but stare. His face was scrunched up in concentration, causing for a little crease between his eyebrows to form. He bit his lip every time he extracted another piece of glass, almost like Percy's injury had hurt him too. This rawness was so unexpected, and Percy fought the urge to coo at Nico as if he was a baby. Ugh, where did his tough guy façade go?

"So," Nico said, breaking the silence. "You said you had questions for me?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I did." Percy bent his fingers, seeing if anything was left in his hand, before muttering some not so friendly words under his breath. "Ah, there's something between my knuckles."

"Okay, on it." Nico started looking at Percy's hand again, and for a brief moment he glanced at the skull ring on his finger, before going back to poke around with the tweezers. "So, what questions did you have in mind?"

"What happened to me, Nico? Why am I here when I'm clearly one of you?"

Nico sighed, pushing his still slightly damp hair out of his eyes, before throwing away the last piece of glass. "What happened? Well, that is a long and complicated story. And it all started because you were too noble."

Percy laughed at that. He listened to Nico start the story as he ran his hand under water, the cuts healing up pretty fast. A good five minutes in, and he realized that the two of them were still in the bathroom-Nico sitting on the lid of the toilet and Percy on the edge of the bathtub. He motioned for the two of them to move to the bedroom, causing for a faint blush to spread on Nico's pale skin.

"Wait," Percy said, interrupting Nico as he got to the part about the Soul Switch magic that had entered his blood stream. "You mean to tell me I went insane, Poseidon disowned me, and then I was kidnapped?" He gave a low whistle, impressed at the complicated mess he had been able to make. "It seems like my life is screwed."

Nico laughed so hard, he started to cry. Percy joined in, until he was laughing just as hard as the son of Hades, only stopping when he felt a stitch in his side. He still giggled, but the sore spot reminded him that he still needed to breathe.

"Oh, I can't remember the last time I laughed this hard," Nico said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Maybe six months ago? It was right before…" He stopped midsentence, looking at Percy as if to make sure he was real, that it wasn't some figment of his imagination. "…you disappeared," he finished. "You're one of the only people that can make me laugh like that."

Percy smirked. "Good to know."

He found himself scooting closer to Nico, and the son of Hades did the same. Their hands intertwined, and as Percy felt himself slowly leaning in for a kiss, Nico's breath seemingly touching his face, a brutal knock to the door caused them to spring apart, both blushing heavily.

"General! Lord Pontus is awaiting you in the throne room for a summoning!" a guard shouted through the door.

"I'm on my way!" Percy shouted back, before groaning. He gave Nico a hopeful look "We'll continue story time later?"

"S-sure," Nico stuttered out, his face still a bright red.

Percy grabbed a jacket that wasn't destroyed, threw it on, picked up his dog tags from the floor, and winked at Nico before he left the room. As soon as he shut the door, he wanted to rip the guard's head off. He was just about to kiss Nico, something he hadn't known he desperately wanted until he missed the opportunity, and of course Pontus wanted to summon him right then.

He mentally groaned one more time, hurriedly buttoning up his jacket as he ran up two flights of stairs to the throne room.


Percy was glaring daggers at Pontus from the moment he entered the throne room. Pontus narrowed his eyes at the demigod. Sure, he had been defiant before, but never like this or to his face. He stalked down the little strip of carpet leading to their thrones, not once tearing his gaze away. Anger burned like a raging fire in those sea green eyes of his, and it instantly set Pontus on edge. He had made sure all his generals give Percy their blessing, including himself and Thalassa as well. If Percy decided now to turn on them, things weren't going to turn out well.

"What was that meeting about yesterday?" Percy asked, still staring at Pontus straight in the eyes.

Pontus feigned ignorance. "What meeting are you talking about? I wasn't aware that we had-"

"Cut the BS, Pontus. I was on my way to the arena yesterday to train, when I ran into Triton. As we were about to go in, he told me I wasn't allowed, and when I asked why, he said there was a meeting, but I wasn't allowed to be there." Percy's glare intensified, if that was even possible. Had Pontus not been a primordial, he would've been running home to Chaos.

"Then I realized," he continued, "if you hold a meeting in which no one is being tortured, I'm never there, despite the fact that I'm your second in command, right after Thalassa. I'm always filled in by Triton, or Helios, or Kronos, or even Hecate, but I'm never there to hear the information firsthand myself. Why is that?"

"Perseus, you must understand that we only want what's best for you," Pontus began.

"Then why am I still here?" he interrupted.

"You're here, because I tell you to be here. Are you questioning my orders?"

"I've been questioning your orders ever since you sent me to kill an entire generation of demigods!" Percy exclaimed angrily. The shadows around him started to swirl violently, reacting to his anger. Then the water from a fountain in the corner joined his hurricane. Luckily for Pontus, Percy seemed content to keep his distance from the protogenoi-for now, at least.

"What problem do with have with them? They were kids! Innocent little children that were at camp, because they couldn't defend themselves against monsters that you and Tartarus unleash at them!"

"They're only innocent for so long, Perseus," Pontus said, his voice rising with anger. "They grow up, and they learn to fight. They become a threat to all that we stand for!"

"What you stand for!" Percy shouted, his voice becoming amplified by the echoes of the room. "I don't condone murdering hundreds of people under the age of eighteen for some petty grudge you hold against their parents! If you want to strike against Olympus, fine, but don't attack the demigods. It's not their fault they were born!"

Pontus felt a sadistic smile spread across his face. "Exactly, my boy. Now you understand. It wasn't their fault-it's their parents-but it's the parents that suffer when their demigod children die, not the demigods themselves."

Percy's glare didn't die at all, but a look of understanding crossed his features. He scowled, causing for the flurry of water and shadows to pick up their intensity, whipping around him so fast that his hair was being blown back, and his clothes rippled.

"I've faced Tartarus before," Percy said, much to Pontus' shock. How much of his memory was coming back? "And I can easily say you're more of a monster than he is. At least he was man enough to announce to my face he wanted me dead. But you, you hide behind this army that follows your every whim, killing people left and right."

Pontus grit his teeth. No, now was not the time for all his hard work to become undone, because some demigod had gone back to being all high-and-mighty. He wouldn't stand for it! Thalassa rubbed circles on his back, but he brushed his wife's hands off.

"You have been questioning my orders ever since you stepped foot in this room, Perseus. And general or not, you know what happens to those that question me."

Percy smirked, as if he knew something Pontus didn't. "I already know the punishment, and I've chosen who will dole it out."

"No, you haven't," Pontus growled out through clenched teeth. "Nyx will do it, and that's final!"

"No, it's really not. See, we're at an impasse. You say you want Nyx to whip me, but Thalassa is your equal, and if she says she wants Nyx to whip me, then I'll agree, if not, I choose."

Pontus looked over at his wife, who just gave him a pitying expression. "It's your back being whipped, Perseus, you decide."

She mouthed sorry, but by then Pontus didn't care anymore at the lack of respect. He wanted Perseus to be whipped, and then he wanted his general under lockdown at all times. Perseus would fight for him against the Olympians, whether it be on his free will or not.

"Fine," Pontus sighed, resigned that a demigod had bested him. "Who will have the pleasure of beating you bloody?"

Perseus grinned evilly, sending chills up his spine.

Dear gods, what had he done?


A/N: As always, feel free to follow, favorite, and/or review if you liked the chapter! And I've got a good idea where the next few chapters are going to be heading, so get excited for that! Bye! ~RainbowSpark18 (::) (::) (::)