(A/N): Haha! I am on fire! No not really. Or even literally. But, this is my fastest redo yet. So I am celebrating. Right now. Whooo! See? Anyways, finals are coming up for me so the studying shall commence (or should actually be commencing right this instant but I am a notorious procrastinator, of course). But I hope you enjoy this chapter, since it has cool stuff happening (yay, fight scenes) and I'm just more comfortable with James' character. He and I are more alike, I think; Elena and I just don't fit well and so when I climb into her point of view I often struggle with the controls.

Disclaimer: Rick Riordan is writing Mark of Athena as I type this sentence, so no. I am not Rick. Isn't that a surprise?

At Fifth Ages' End

Ch. 6

Demigod dreams were weird. That's what everyone at camp had told me.

But children of Morpheus' dreams are like going from the deep end of the pool to the raging ocean, in the middle of a Poseidon tantrum.

(Meaning no disrespect, of course.)

When would the scene change? I shoved my hands into my back jeans pockets, looking about idly. The dream had this teenager, about my age or so, serenading the crowd (complete with screeching fans and swooning girls) in a voice that reminded of that brown-haired Apollo kid, with a smile that split his face in two.

The stuff wasn't actually happening to me, though I'd take a trip to Tartarus and blow a couple raspberries at Kronos' before consenting to singing in front of a crowd, especially one this big. I was just standing off on one side, watching.

And every time I willed the dream to move on, to change scenario, it responded. Sluggishly, at first, but it got quicker with practice.

I tried not to intrude on the dreams as a rule. Some were trivial; others were disturbing, since I was a teenage guy; some others were painful. There was this one 13-year-old who was in the Ares' cabin, I believe, and deathly afraid of snakes. I tried to help without giving away my identity, since I didn't really want everyone to know I had the ability to go through every single camper's dreams and nightmares at will. It made me feel like a busybody, a gossip, and I'm not even a girl.

I also tried not to spend too much time attempting to figure out whose dream exactly I was intruding on. I didn't want to know. It was better they stayed distant, unknown individuals.

Darkness. Everywhere. I blinked furiously, trying to get used to the sudden lack of light.

"Dorman," a gravelly voice intoned, making me jerk involuntarily. Was this my own dream? Or someone else's?

"You're wasting your time, Titan," my grandfather's voice panted, making my whole body jerk again as I tried to make something out of the dark.

"Your strength and resilience are to be commended, surely," the other voice, cold and menacing. "But all I really require is for you to play live bait. Your grandson will be heading for us soon, and I intend to have you as my main bargaining chip. It is only natural of mortals to have personal loyalties that they will hold on to above all else, including the destruction of the universe. It is also only natural for a higher being like myself to exploit it."

I still couldn't see anything! In frustration, I lashed out, and felt my hand seem to pass through something. This was usually how it was when I was dreaming-hopping; unless I particularly willed it, I was technically invisible and intangible to everything in the dream.

Which meant that this wasn't my own dream. But who's was it then?

I couldn't tell. I couldn't see anything at all.

"They will stop you," Grandfather insisted, and I noticed how his voice seem to tremble, like that time when he got a cold and became all feeble, like other men his age. I had been terrified for him, and for me, because no more Grandfather meant either foster homes or insane mother. "James won't play your game. He isn't the kind to play by anyone's rules but his own."

Grandfather knew me well. I made my own rules. Nobody told me what to do, they only advised me on the best course of action. The final decision was mine alone.

"That may be so," the gravelly voice said smoothly, and I felt the hairs on the back of my arms and neck prickle uncomfortably. "But I hold all the cards. I have you."

I came awake with jolt, sitting up on the bed abruptly, the first time I had been able to since I got here. The usual dream-hopping always made me dizzy and disoriented when I awoke, and I often found myself hanging halfway off the bed in the morning. Then, due to my semi-awake mode, I would try to sit up and slip the other halfway off the bed. It never helped make a good start to the day.

The wall clock said seven in the morning. I groaned and rubbed my face with one hand, wishing I could get some proper sleep for once. And remembering I had a quest to go on didn't help any.

"I'm an idiot," I grumbled quietly, heading for the shower. Suicidal quests shouldn't have been something I volunteered for, but I wasn't about to let dear 'I'm going alone' Elena do her selfless hero act. I had a feeling someone capable was going to have to be on hand to guard her back, and there had been something...someone, urging me to speak up. Whoever it was, this was all its fault. It had better not be trying to get me killed.

And I wasn't too enthusiastic about the other one, either. She seemed so...naive. Talkative. Innocent. At least she was short, and younger than me; push comes to shove the old intimidation techniques would work just fine.

I gasped out of the shower, sufficiently awakened by the cold water, and pulled on a faded blue T-shirt and black jeans, then slipped on my black jacket. The inside pocket, holding my sketchbook, thudded lightly against my ribs. I took my twin knives from their place on the wall and slid them into my sleeves. That way, I could access them easily without having to openly carry a weapon around. That made you a target more than anything else.

Swinging my backpack, with supplies I had carelessly stuffed in before going to bed, over my shoulder, I made my way over to where Thalia's Tree stood sentinel, the Golden Fleece shimmering on its branches. Standing on Half-Blood Hill were Chiron and Elena. Princess had probably woken up at six out of worry, if the haunted, hollow look was any indication.

The girl from Olympus was dressed in black combat boots, denim jeans and a non-descript purple T-shirt. Her backpack and bow was slung over her shoulder. She nodded to me as I climbed the slope, shifting her grip on her backpack unconsciously.

I nodded back, moving up to stand level with her on the slope, giving Peleus the guard dragon a solid pat on the nose. He snorted back.

"Sir," I greeted Chiron respectfully. He inclined his head and gave me a teacher-esque smile, friendly and wise.

The sun was heating up, not quite peeping over the horizon yet but turning a thin strip of sky just where it met the earth orange-yellow. Elena gazed at it peacefully, absentmindedly scratching Peleus behind the ears. He keened in pleasure.

"I used to believe Apollo was just boasting as usual when he told me nothing was more beautiful than his Maserati preparing to launch into the skies on its journey west," Elena told me, eyes on the horizon. "Now I think he was just exaggerating."

"Oh, wow, the sun-chariot's a Maserati now? Cool." A sudden thought struck me. "How do you know what a Maserati is?"

"Apollo showed it to me, while I was in my coma. The gods created this-um-virtual reality, I think you call it, and showed me things about the world," she explained. "Apollo called it a sports-car, though I'm not quite sure why. He was very proud of it."

"He should be. They're beautiful," I replied. Just then a very obvious thud of shoes on grass coming up the hill behind us made Elena and I turn. I tried not to look too disdainful.

Complete amateur. I shook my head as that Hermes' girl, Christine, jogged up the slope with a huge smile on her face. She bowed to Chiron.

Elena smiled, one of the rare times I had seen her face so relaxed and happy, and stepped forward with her hand outstretched. Christine grinned back and gripped her in a hug tightly, making Elena yelp in surprise. I almost laughed at Elena's expression, but then Christine turned to me with a halved melon of a grin and I stepped back quickly. I didn't want anyone, least of all Overenthusiastic Girl, getting all mushy on me.

"Rule number one, Christie," I told her, holding up a finger. "No kissy-huggy stuff."

"Because you're a man, and 'kissy-huggy' stuff isn't manly?" Christine crossed her arms and frowned. I rolled my eyes. Just because I'm a guy...

Stereotypical.

"Because it's called personal space," I said in a flat voice. "Got it?"

"Stop it, James," said Elena in a firm voice, coming to Christie's defence. "She didn't know. And don't be so sensitive."

"I'm not, I'm telling her I don't like kissy-huggy stuff. And she's the one been sexist, Miss Equality!"

"You didn't have to be so touchy about it. And how was I supposed to know in the first place?" demanded Christine. A small part of my ADHD brain noticed Chiron standing by and watching us argue.

"Some of us actually know things about people around camp," I sneered. "Even though we've only been here a few weeks. I suppose it means that I'm smarter than you."

Christine yelled in rage and lunged. I twisted my body to one side so her fist met air, which only made her angrier.

She tried again, and I smirked as I evaded her this time.

"Maybe if you had grown some brain cells when you hit puberty, you'd have a chance-"

"Enough," Elena growled, furious, grabbing my arm with one hand and gripping Christine's shoulder with the other, pushing us apart. She looked at neither of us, but angled her head to one side and spoke with gritted teeth.

"James. Don't talk to her like that. Christine, restrain yourself. The both of you, grow up."

"Who's going to make me?" I shot back, unable to resist having the last word. Like I said, nobody tells me what to do. They get really frustrated if they try.

Elena's ice-blue gaze narrowed at me.

She pulled back and relaxed.

"I am tolerating you. Watch your place," she said in a deceptively even tone, pronouncing each word curtly. She shouldered her backpack and bow and stalked down the other side of the hill.

Christine, the little brat, stuck her tongue out at me rudely and thumbed her nose before following. I tried counting to ten.

One, two. Three. Four...five, SIX, SEVEN. EIGHT. NINE. TEN!

I sighed. Counselors are a bunch of crazy lying bastards.

Avoiding Chiron's gaze, I yanked the knife I had hurled at the ground from counting attempt out of the earth and stalked down the other side of the slope.

We hailed a taxi to the bus station nearby. It was very quiet.

I sat shotgun, not wanting to start a fight to the death in the taxi with Christine. Elena sat cross-legged in the back along with Overenthusiastic Girl, who was still huffy.

Trying to cut the tension with a butterknife, the cabbie cleared his throat and said, "Seem a little young to be traveling without an adult, if you don't mind me saying. Where exactly are you kids going?"

"We're going to have lunch," Christine said quickly, about the same time I said-

"Meeting more buddies at the mall."

We stopped for a moment, which gave time for Elena to say, "Where we're going to have lunch."

Cabbie raised an eyebrow, but he didn't ask anymore. We got down to the bus station without any incident (although I couldn't help noticing every single fast food joint I saw and envisioning some fries and a coke), and Elena paid the cabbie. Just as he took the cash, she snapped her fingers loudly.

A cold blast slapped me in the face, and Christine gasped.

"It's alright," Elena said calmly. "Only special precautions." She opened the door and slipped out, and after a moment of staring at the cabbie's blank expression, I followed suit.

"What did you do to him?" I demanded. "He looks lobotomized."

"Whatever that is, he isn't. I have only placed a substitute memory in the place of our faces. He will remember he dropped off three teenagers, but not what they looked like or where we got in from. Simple Mist trick. One of the only I could manage out of all the gods showed me." She waited for Christine to get out, then snapped her fingers again and turned about, heading for the station. I stared after the taxi.

Not a bad trick. Princess had some nice moves for a girl who had been Miss Sleeping Beauty for the last thirty years.

We got on the bus, which was pretty empty, much to my relief. I had forgotten how bad...I forced my rising panic down and sat on the lid, focusing on controlling my breathing. This wouldn't do. I had to calm down.

No, I will not tell you what my problem is.

Struggling to act nonchalant, I sat somewhere near the back and propped my legs on the empty seat beside me. Elena paused, one hand on the seat before me, her expression descending into cold disgust. But thankfully, she didn't argue as she sat down on the opposite end with Christine.

The purr of the bus' engine quickly started up, and the vehicle lurched. I took a deep breath. I could do this.

Christine shifted uncomfortably, watching me from her place next to the window. She thought she was being discreet. My exasperation with her complete lack of skills lessened my tension somewhat over being...in a bus.

Elena finally spoke up. "Christine, will you stop watching James like that, trying to be discreet."

Christine started. "But I wasn't-"

"An elephant stampede would be less obvious," I snorted, slouching lazily in my seat with my long legs stretched out in front of me. Deep, deep breaths. I was doing this.

"Don't be so quick to judge, James. Christine can always learn." Christine stuck out her tongue at me in retaliation, and I gave her an eye roll back. I could see Elena's upper lip jut out slightly in angry frustration at the both of us.

Well, I suppose I should stop. I am sixteen.

A horrible crunching noise suddenly came from the top of the bus.

We looked up as a something large, hairy and sniffly wrenched the top like a can opener. A hellhound, its teeth all ripped and jagged from gripping the metal, gave a ferocious growl and leapt down into the bus. It got wedged between some seats, but a few wriggles and the seats ripped from their holds and crashed somewhere in the back. Mortals started to scream.

"Of all the places..." I hissed under my breath.

Did I mention I also hated hysterics? This hellhound was going back to Tartarus the hard way.

The bus lurched to a stop, steaming and hissing. With a discreet flick of my wrists, my new knife hilts slid into my hands.

I tensed, watching Elena half-rise in her seat and brace her shoulders, her hands pulling out her high ponytail and turning the hair ties into her twin hunting blades. Only Christine hadn't moved; she was just staring.

The hellhound began to rip the seats apart, sending upholstery flying everywhere like falling snowflakes. I hoped the mortals had insurance from rampaging demon dogs.

Springing up, I flipped one of my knives straight up and caught it by the tip, then flung it down the aisle and sliced the hellhound along the side, drawing first blood. The hellhound leaped round to face me, snarling in a frenzy.

Elena met him halfway, flashing blades slashing it on the nose. It howled in pain and lunged blindly, forcing Elena back. She held her ground, barely, deflecting slobbering teeth with a muffled clang.

Before the hellhound could lunge a second time, a bullet imbedded itself in its eye.

What in-?

I turned about and stared at Christine, standing in the middle of the aisle, a celestial bronze gun held in both hands. With a twirl, it turned into dark purple clip that she attached to her belt. She was breathing hard.

Well, well. Who knew Overenthusiastic Girl was a crackshot?

"What?" she asked defensively, as Elena and I raised eyebrows at her.

"Nicely done, squirt," I answered coolly, trying not to show I was too impressed. She might be one of those people who inflate like a balloon with flattery. "Where did you get that gun?"

"Annabeth gave it to me," she shrugged. "Said I looked like a pretty good shot."

"She was right," Elena said approvingly, flicking her blades back into hair ties and redoing her ponytail with practiced ease. Christine tried not to look too pleased with the comment, but the reddening of her cheeks gave the game away.

"Let's go," I said, sliding my knives into my sleeves and hopping off the bus. Looking around, I noticed another bus station nearby, the one we had probably been heading towards. All the mortals who'd been caught in the incident were heading in that direction, apart from a few who were screaming about mutant dogs taking over the world and running in circles.

I'm joking. They were just screaming.

And running in circles.

Crossing the busy street, I felt Elena take two hurried steps to catch up to me.

"Admit it," she muttered out of the side of her mouth, so Christine couldn't hear.

"Admit what, Princess?" She frowned, but didn't take offence with the nickname.

"She pulled her own weight."

"She handled the situation well. That's all I'm going to admit." Elena smiled a small smile, sweetly, like the innocent girl she wasn't.

"Well, now, that wasn't so hard was it, big, tough man?" she teased quietly. I huffed.

"Fine. But I'm not going to give up calling her squirt."

"Hey!" Christine yelled from the back. I laughed.