For taking so long, u all get to slap me in the face, okay? Even though after this chapter you'll probably want to kill me.

my two instagrams btw are thestandardbookofspellsgrade7 and thedivergentrunnerofpanem (if anyone was interested)

i've actually been working on this chapter for a looooooooong time and i'm almost done with the next one so no need to worry about me not updating for a month (again)

i apologize for the wait AGAIN because u guys don't deserve to have to wait ily all

in case u weren't aware: I DON'T OWN PERCY JACKSON. If i did, why the Hades would i write fanfics?

CHAPTER TWELVE

~~~Aubrey Sally Jackson~~~

THE PAIN OF DYING.

Somehow, I imagined death differently.

Maybe you wake up disoriented, and see the giant gold gates floating on clouds, leading into heaven.

Maybe I'm not dead. Because everything hurts so much.

I feel like my entire body is in need of a good oiling (figuratively of course).

My eyes are almost glued shut with sleep and I drag my bruised arms up to rub my eyes.

Blinking to try and wake up, I find I'm lying face down, on a hard concrete floor.

I try to roll over, but almost immediately, a searing pain shoots through my body from between my shoulder blades.

I let out a noise of agony that ranges somewhere between a gasp and a groan. I'm afraid to move now, in case the pain returns.

It doesn't take a genius to know I've been stabbed.

"Aubrey Sally Jackson," a voice sneers, and I immediately recognize it as Chrysaor's. "Such a lovely name for a lovely lady."

I say nothing. I don't think my voice could form anything beyond a grunt.

"Turn and address me, Daughter of Heroes, or this will be a lot harder for you."

Daughter of Heroes? That makes me sound so cool.

I lift my shoulder slowly, and my breathing quickens, because of the effort this is taking me.

"Turn and face me!"

In my struggle to obey, I fall onto my back with a shriek of pain.

I suck in quick breaths through my teeth, gasping and coughing, intense spikes of torture shooting up and down my back. I don't acknowledge the tears running down my cheeks. But I can feel them trace down to my chin, so I know they're there.

"Sit up!" he commands.

I want to, because I know he'll hurt me if I don't.

I weakly start to raise my head, but the spears in my back that were fading return as I attempt to obey. A noise made of a gurgle crossed with a quiet shriek escapes my mouth as I try harder to sit up.

I get a few inches before black and yellow dots cover my vision to the point of blindness, and I collapse back onto the concrete, banging my head on the stone with another cry.

My breath is shaky and panicky, as I both try to get enough air to breathe and begin to freak out as I hear footsteps approaching. I would have been begging if I could talk. Begging him not to hurt me. To leave me alone.

My eyes are closed as the lack of movement from my body starts to allow the pain to fade, and there is silence. I am almost relieved, before I realize that silence means no footsteps, and no footsteps means…

"I told you to stand, Jackson," Chrysaor starts out eerily calm, causing my body to shake with fear, the movement causing the pain, and the pain causing the gasps of suffering. "So stand!"

All at once, I feel a cold hand grabbing my neck, and I shriek from fear.

But then, my strangled cries turn to screeches of pure torture as the pain erupts over my back.

I'm too weak to fight. I'm too weak to stand. I feel too weak to live.

The fire lighting up my back and spreading down my body stops the shrieks in my mouth, sealing my throat from both breath and screams.

Is this what it feels like to die? To hurt so much that you can't even scream? To be in such agony that even your own throat condemns you to silence?

My vision goes completely black for a second, and the pain fades to a throb, before my vision clears slightly and the pain erupts all over again. But this time, gasps escape my throat, laced with pain, air seeping in and getting hacked out fast as I recover, trying to breathe.

I comprehend that my hands and feet are tied, that I am chained to two poles, set about a yard apart, spreading my limbs apart, my right limbs tied to one pole, my left limbs tied to the other.

The rope is coarse, but it isn't too thick, and the knots are tight, nearly impossible to untie. I can already feel my wrists burning, but not nearly as much as I'm aware of the threads of pain that are woven down my spine. What has happened to me?

Bright lights shine directly into my eyes, and I moan as my head begins to pound.

I can't see very well beyond the lights, and I don't try too hard, since I don't have the energy. My head drops down, and I spot a mix of my own blood and puke. I wonder when that happened. The stench is overwhelmingly bad, smelling of anything rotten and moldy that you can think of. But my neck feels strained, aching, and I can't muster the energy to pull my head back up to relieve my nose from its misery.

I don't know if I have energy for anything.

"Hello, Aubrey dear," I don't bother to even try and look up. I know I can't. He knows I can't. So of course, he tries to make me.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" he hisses.

A small yell bursts from my mouth when my head snaps to the side, my cheek screaming with me. He slapped me.

"Look at me!" he bellows.

I force my head up, gritting my teeth, grunting in pain, to look at him.

I can't see him, because of the light in my eyes, but I hear the smile in his voice when he talks.

"It took a lot of convincing to get the Earth Mother to let me have you, Aubrey," he chuckles and I would've attacked him if I could. "But now… now you're mine. Even though technically I have to return you later. Whatever." He says it as if he's talking about an object, not a person.

I full out wail as he goes around to my back and touches between my shoulder blades.

This time, my throat doesn't stick, and I plead with him. I beg for mercy to let me go. My voice barely works, but I try my hardest to form words.

"Anything!" I yelp, gasping between my screams. "Anything you want! Just stop!"

"What I want," he touches my back again, and I shriek, thrashing, "is for you," I'm still sucking in desperate breaths, terrified of fainting, because I know I probably wouldn't wake up again, but terrified to live, because of the pain, "to bow to me. To have the Jackson's to be reduced to nothing."

I feel him touch my cheek, and I don't even have the strength to move, much less bite him, and he knows it. He drags his finger across my cheek, and I realize he's wiping my own blood across my cheekbone, as if that marks that he owns me.

The rusty, salty, sickening smell of blood floats down to my already-abused nose.

"I want people to realize I broke you, Jackson's own daughter, and they will respect me," his voice is low, serious, and makes shivers of fear shimmer down my aching spine. "They won't utter my name behind my back with mocking and scorning. Instead, at the sound of my name they'll cower, because of what I've done."

Murdered a defenseless little girl? I would've said, if I had either the nerve or the physical ability to.

But I had neither, because despite everything that I hate about his words, I also know that I have no power to stop him from anything he wants to do to me.

My eyes are kept open with pain only, otherwise their weight would drag me into sleep, unconsciousness, or possibly death.

"I want to be known as the one that broke Perseus Jackson by killing his daughter," Chrysaor's voice whispers directly next to my ear, and I would've flinched, but my body wont spare the energy for even that. "I want to return you to him as nothing but a corpse." He chuckles suddenly, and I am sickened by his lack of sanity; his conscience seems to have left him long ago. "…or maybe an empty shell."

The light is too bright to see anything, but I know Chrysaor is drawing his sword by the sound of scraping metal.

I close my eyes and beg the Fates to let me die.

-_-_Zachary Jason Grace_-_-

LIFE SUCKS.

Percy had searched the dangerous seas in his desperation to find her. I know that he doesn't know that she's his daughter, but I can tell that he's feeling wounded, even if he doesn't know why.

As soon as Annabeth heard me announce Aubrey's absence she had been pacing, the calculated look written all over her face. But I saw she was hurting, too, even if she didn't know why, either.

Leo had been steering the ship, eyes locked on the horizon, not a word out of his mouth. He didn't know Aubrey well, but she was a member of his crew, technically.

Jason (even though he wasn't fully healed) and Frank had been flying overhead, even despite the dangers of the Mediterranean, searching.

Piper was looking in her knife, leaning on the rail, an expression of worry on her face.

Well, that's what it'd looked like the last time I'd been up there.

I was sitting in Percy's room, Hazel next to me, trying to comfort me. I can't breathe. The air just won't go into my lungs.

It's like nothing works without her. Not even my own lungs can function unless I know she's safe.

Oh, and yeah, I'm sobbing, crying an ocean.

Hazel is crying, too, though more quietly. She rubs soothing circles on my back as my breath hitches over and over again.

Can't… breathe…

"In, Zach, breathe in," Hazel says gently.

I choke in a breath and cough it out, wheezing.

A knock on the door makes Hazel look up, but I continue to stare at the floor.

"It's getting late," I heard Percy's voice. "Maybe, um, we should get some rest?" I heard the exhaustion in his tone.

Hazel rubs my back one more time, gives me a quick hug, than stands. "Of course," her own voice is shaky. "Good night, Percy. And Zach?"

I look up at her, her face is blurry from the tears blocking my vision.

"She'll be okay, I know it," Hazel leans down and gives me a tighter hug this time.

I hug her back, appreciating it more than she could ever know.

I hear her whisper in my ear, "Maybe you should tell Percy about his daughter now? Just so he… knows." I can tell that she was about to say "Just so he can mourn."

I shake my head very slightly, and she pulls away, nodding in understanding. "Good night, you two."

I want to tell her thank you. I want to tell her that I appreciate it. I want to apologize for hating her son, because if he's anything like her, he's a good person. But my voice doesn't work the way I want it to.

"Um, Zach?" you'd expect Percy to sound uncomfortable, but instead he sounds sad. "What happened to you and Aubrey's parents?"

That makes me stop crying, if only for a minute.

I look up at him, mentally placing an image Older-Percy next to him and giving a broken smile. "They're gone. I'm not sure how to get them back."

Percy sucks in a breath. "Are they…?"

I shake my head sadly. "No," I sigh. A tear traces down my cheek. "And I'm not sure if it'd be better or worse that way."

"Where are they now?" he's curious, but also cautious, not wanting to push me too far.

An image of Piper and Jason enters my head and I answer with one word: "Unreachable."

After a moment of silence, Percy runs his hand through his hair. "You should… um… sleep in the bed tonight. I'll take the floor."

"But–" I start to protest.

"Nope," he cuts me off, his tone final. "Not a debate."

Too tired to protest longer, I collapse back onto the bed and my eyes drag close, and sleep consumes me.

Turns out sleep is not an escape.

A bloody figure lies across the concrete floor, not moving except for the slightest motion as they intake air.

Their hair is dark with blood and filth, and they lie on their back, eyes closed.

A horrible, sickening feeling begins to overtake me. I recognize the figure.

It's Aubrey.

The smell of blood is overwhelming, but that doesn't stop me from stepping forward and crouching down next to her.

"Aubrey?" I meant it as a hopeful whisper, but it comes out as a hoarse sob.

Her eyes don't flutter dramatically open at the sound of my voice like in a movie or something stupid like that. Her breathing is shallow, as if she isn't even trying to live anymore.

"No, no, no," I say, hot tears running down my face. "Aubrey, you got to wake up, okay?" My voice cracks. "You can't leave me here. Hell, you're not even supposed to be here." I push her hair from her face, feeling like the anguish was splitting me in half.

"Please," I whisper to whatever gods are out there. "Please, let it be me. I deserve this, not her… not her…"

^^^Perseus Jackson^^^

UNEXPLAINABLE LOSS.

I lie on the floor on Zach's temporary bed, trying to sleep.

The feeling inside of me is simply misery. An unexplained hole in my chest.

I liked Aubrey, but I only knew her for a few days. Right? Why did I feel like I lost someone so much closer to my heart than some random demigod?

But sorrow has settled in my heart unlike anything I've felt since Annabeth was kidnapped by Luke, and when I was at Camp Jupiter without her.

Along with my sorrow is rage. Ire burning in my chest that drives me to want to attack. I want to kill Chrysaor. Destroy him for whatever he might've done with Aubrey.

Why is it this way? I would understand a little bit of grief because of a starting friendship, and maybe an awkward pat on the back for Zach, but this? It's like she's part of my family, and I'm wanting to avenge her.

Finally unable to fall sleep, I get up and try to tip-toe to the door quietly.

I pause when a sound similar to a whimper comes from Zach's end of the room.

I look over and see an expression of agony on his face. It doesn't belong there. He's only just figuring out about the demigod world.

Trying to lessen the feeling of grief in my chest, I open the door quietly and slip out.

I walk up on deck, trying to suppress tears.

Above everything, I feel overwhelmingly guilty. I'd been so focused on Chrysaor that I didn't even notice them take Aubrey.

Leaning on the rail heavily, regret and sorrow weighing me down, I say aloud, "It was all my fault." My voice doesn't sound like it came from me. It's weaved with pain and loss.

"What do you mean?" another voice asks.

Turn around, wiping my eyes quickly.

Annabeth is dressed in a T-shirt and sweats, her hair in a messy ponytail, with her eyes ringed in red. She's been crying.

"It's not your fault she's missing, Percy," Annabeth tells me, walking forward and taking my hand. "You couldn't've done anything. None of us noticed she was being taken until she was gone."

"I still feel like…" my voice is shaking with anger. "I still feel like… I should've noticed. I should've checked to make sure…"

"Stop it, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth interrupts me. "She'll be alright. I know it." A tear traces down her cheek, but her voice sounds confident.

"How? How do you know?" I almost demand.

Annabeth looks me in the eyes and gives a sad smile. "A lot of things about her remind me of you. I know she'll survive, because if she's anything like you, which she is, she's tough enough to endure anything."

I reach over and wipe a tear from her cheek. With a half-hearted chuckle, I reply, "It's funny, because I always thought that she reminded me of you."

I lean down and press my lips to hers.

After a few moments of kissing, she pulls back. "Percy? Do you get the feeling like…" she pauses for a second. "Like you know Aubrey and Zach? Especially Aubrey? She almost feels like she's… I don't know…"

"Family?" I supply.

"Exactly," Annabeth says.

"Then yah," I say. "I'm feeling like I lost a sister or something like that."

Annabeth rubs her eyes, looking out over the water. "I wish they'd never come. I mean, I like them and all, but I wish we'd taken them home and not let them stay."

"I don't think they have a home, Annabeth," I say quietly.

"An orphanage, relatives, anywhere," Annabeth sobs. "But not here."

I pull her close to me, hugging her. I rest my head on top of hers and we just sit there for a while, crying over Aubrey.

But below everything, underneath the unexplainable feelings of loss, we're still confused. Neither of us had been this upset when other friends of ours had died– and we'd known some of them for years.

At the moment, however, we just cried, both of us feeling useless.

Little did they know that many, many years later, they'd be doing the same thing on their couch at home, after losing their daughter and sending their son on a quest.

They sat there and tried to fill the emptiness in their hearts, holding each other and crying.

Percy and Annabeth, in both times, felt completely helpless as they cried.

-_-_Zachary Jason Grace_-_-

ROME.

Sleep was, once upon a time, one of my favorite things. Now… not so much.

I groan awake as a knock on the door startles me from my not-wonderful, un-pleasant sleep and I hear Jason say: "Hey, guys. We're descending over Rome. You really should see this."

Percy gets quickly to his feet. "Um, Zach? You coming?"

I groan and sit up. "No I'm not coming. I'm going to stay here and die. What do you think?!" my voice drips sarcasm.

Percy, sensing my crappy mood, just rolls his eyes, quickly gets ready, and heads upstairs.

I drag myself into the bathroom. I don't even try to convince myself I look descent. Looking in the mirror, there is no other way to describe how I look: horrible. Maybe like if I got run over a few times by a train.

Trying to keep the memories of my dreams out of my mind, I take a quick shower, and wash my face.

I walk out into Percy's room, and I'm faced with an enormous problem: I don't have any clothes. I could put on the awful-smelling ones I wore yesterday or I could try to creep across the hallway naked, except for my underwear, to Hazel's room to get into Aubrey's stock of Aquarium goods.

I look uneasily around the room and spot Percy's closet. Or (oh joy!) I could borrow Percy's clothes.

Looking through his stuff, I frown. I don't know if you knew, but Percy's a tall guy. He also has a hell of a lot more muscle than I do.

I pull out one of his orange T-shirts and look at it. It looks too big. I pull it over my head anyway, hoping. I groan when it hangs limply on me and reaches halfway to my knees.

"Why?!" I yell, banging my head on the wall. "Why do the Fates hate me?! You couldn't have given me a frickin' shirt?!"

Frank, Jason, and Percy's shirts are all too big. Leo's will probably be too small (he's shorter and scrawnier than even me). There's no way in hell I would ever take clothes from the girls.

I stare at my Georgia Aquarium outfit that smelled like it belonged in a dump.

That, or pretty much naked. I love my life.

I pull on the shirt and sweats. I mean, I'd slept in these and worn them for a day or two, and they reeked.

Careful not to breathe through my nose, I head upstairs.

We already sit on a hill, so I missed the entire descent.

The demigods were talking, but when they saw me they went completely silent.

"Well that's subtle, guys," I snap. "Good morning to you too."

They glance at Percy knowingly. He must've warned them about my mood. That ticks me off even more.

"So what's the agenda?" I ask, but unintentionally, my voice is mocking.

"Percy and I are heading to the Tiber River. Frank, Hazel, and Leo are searching for Nico." I notice with slight shock that Annabeth has slightly puffy eyes.

With a jolt, I remember that this is Aubrey's mom. But why was she upset? It's not like she knows it's her daughter.

"What about me? And Piper and Jason and Hedge?" I ask. My voice is significantly less harsh, but still not back to normal.

"We're meeting back at three," she says. "You guys are staying here."

"Great," I say. "Time to think about ponies and rainbows and thank the gods at how happy I am." I grit my teeth and the picture of Aubrey's bloody figure flashes before my eyes, fueling my anger even further.

No one really answers, not sure what to say. And that's understandable, because the people they love are around them and visibly safe at the moment.

The people I love are out of my reach, even if some of them stand five feet away.

Coach Hedge grunts, breaking the tension. "That'll give me time to eat the coconuts– I mean, dig the coconuts out of our hull. Percy, Annabeth… I don't like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. If I hear about any funny business, I will ground you until the Styx freezes over."

Percy's grin seemed to lighten the mood, even if only slightly. It didn't make me feel any better. I was in no mood for smiling.

"We'll be back soon," he promises, and when Leo lowers the gangplank, they're off the ship.

Feeling anger boiling up inside of me, I feel the urge to kick something. Or punch something. Or murder something.

I just want Aubrey back. Is that too much to ask?

Leo, Frank, and Hazel leave soon after and I'm left with my future parents and good ol' Coach Hedge. Yay me.

Piper and Jason went on a nice romantic picnic. That's way too gross and awkward for me to join in on or even watch.

Coach Hedge is singing nursery rhymes with twisted lyrics (Old MacDonald with weapons instead of animals). I'm angry, bored, and wound so tightly I'm bound to explode at some point.

Pacing the deck furiously, I'm interrupted by Coach Hedge.

"Hey, cupcake," Hedge calls. "I've been meaning to tell you that you smell funny."

I turn and glare at him. "I didn't have any extra clothes."

Hedge pauses to laugh. "No, I didn't mean the clothes, even though you should seriously burn them." He waves a hand in front of his nose to let me know I stunk.

"Then what did you mean?" I grit my teeth, trying not to lose my temper.

"You may have been told previously that you smell like Zeus and Aphrodite," the satyr says, before he narrows his eyes. "But I know better. You smell like Jason and Piper. What the Hades is up with that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I growl.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, cupcake, don't lie to me," he waves a finger at me. "I can keep a secret."

"I don't believe you," I say.

"So you admit there's a secret?"

"No."

"Just tell me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Please?"

"No."

Suddenly, Percy, Piper, and Jason were climbing back on deck.

We gathered on the deck to listen to Percy's story.

After he's done, Piper opens her mouth to talk.

"So Annabeth was kidnapped on a motor scooter," Piper sums it up, "by Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn."

I'm distracted for a moment, thinking about how Audrey sounds like Aubrey.

When I tune back in, Percy's asking Piper: "Please. Try again."

He looks at her with pleading eyes. I don't know what he asked, but she pauses for a moment, then sighs.

"Fine," she draws her dagger.

Percy and Jason gather around her to watch, but I just turn and walk away so I can look over the park.

Were all my friends in the future descended from demigods? I was finding more and more people were demigods daily. Soon they'd be telling me Aunt Reyna was one, too.

Percy, Piper, and Jason all begin to run towards the gangplank.

Percy pauses, and looks at me. "Zach? You coming?"

I look over at Hedge muttering to himself about baseball, and then over at my friends. "Hell yeah." I run after them.

~~~Aubrey Sally Jackson~~~

HI AGAIN. I'M STILL ALIVE. I HOPE.

My head hurts. My back screams. My limbs are petrified. My stomach swims with nausea.

I'll spare your sanity from the details of Chrysaor's "fun". He said he'd return me to my friends as an empty shell, and that might be all that's left of me.

I have screamed my throat raw. I ache so much I'm sure that I don't have any unmarked skin.

I don't move, and even my breaths hurt, so I don't do much of that, either.

In the back of my mind, I remember I had a family. And a best friend. And a crush. I remember I was happy. But I can't remember what happiness feels like. And I can't remember any of their names. I can't remember my own name.

Is my name Jackson? It's the only name I remember. The name Chrysaor screamed as he hacked away.

I'm not sure where I am. I don't bother to open my eyes.

As I lay still, names start to drift through my mind, but I don't know what they mean.

Aubrey.

Percy.

Annabeth.

Lucas.

Zach.

Piper.

Jason.

I know they're important names. I just don't remember why.

Hunter.

Ella.

Hazel.

Frank.

My head is swirling and pounding as I try… try to remember why the names are significant to me.

Leo.

Calypso.

Esperanza.

Joey.

What do they mean?

Jackson… Jackson…

All at once, everything comes back to me.

My name. My mom and dad. My brother. My friends and family.

Demigods. Monsters. Chrysaor. Pain.

With a start, my eyes fly open and I sit up.

I moan because of my sore body, but when I slowly move my shoulder blades I feel nothing.

Was it all a dream?

I look down at my shirt; it's torn and dirty.

Underneath that is scars. Fading, small scars, but scars none the less.

It was real.

Gritting my teeth, I slowly get to my feet.

I look around me cautiously.

The light is very dim, but as my eyes adjust, I see a two-story-high ceiling. The floor is sandstone blocks.

I look around and I spot the source of light a good while away. A knife.

Suddenly, I freeze. I hear heavy, painful breathing echoing around the room. Someone else is here.

My limbs are locked with terror.

The breathing was short and labored now. My eyes widen and my body relaxes slightly. The person is hurt, so they couldn't attack me.

A yelp suddenly cut through the silence and I flinch back.

After a moment, a voice says: "Okay," and I stifle a gasp. "Think, Annabeth. Prioritize."

"Annabeth!" I cry out before I can stop myself. Tears immediately appear in my eyes.

I can tell that Annabeth is on guard, listening for me to approach.

"Hold on," she says, partially to herself. Then louder. "Aubrey?" her voice shakes. "Aubrey?!" she sounds relieved.

I sprint over to her and throw my arms around her without thinking.

She cries out and I jump back. "Hell!" I say. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry." I spot her ankle, twisted at an unnatural angle and gasp. "What the heck happened to you?"

"What about you?" she demands. "Zach is destroying himself over you! Where've you been?! Are you okay?"

I look around the tunnel, shivering. "Chrysaor…" my breathing becomes short and hitched as I remember.

"Never mind," Annabeth says gently. "Don't think about it, okay?"

I nod, even though it's not easy to forget. "Is everyone okay?"

"Last time I was with them," Annabeth nods. She finally, she seems to spot my scars. "Oh gods, Aubrey," she breathes. "What–"

"Doesn't matter," I say. "We need to move on. Get out of here. This place makes me uneasy."

"Wait," Annabeth says, reaching in her backpack and eating something. Then she turns to look at me. "I don't think you can come with me. It's something only a child of Athena can see."

"I'm…" I trail off, looking at her familiar, but younger face. "I'm descended from Athena. My mother is a daughter of Athena."

Annabeth looks at me. She blinks and I can see her mind calculating. After a moment, she gives me an odd look. "I have a theory…" then she shakes her head. "But it's stupid."

"What's your theory?" I say. "It can't be more stupid then reality, trust me."

"Aubrey…" she asks. "Are you… my daughter?"

OF COURSE ANNABETH WOULD BE THE FIRST TO FIGURE OUT DUHHHH.

review?

i love u guys for putting up with me. i take so long to update. forgive me, amazing readers.

meanwhile, u can read my other story of far less quantity (if u want of course) its a PJO/HP crossover

bye-bye!

BTW I NEED A BETA (IS THAT WHAT IT'S CALLED?). ANYWAY, I NEED SOMEONE WHO WOULD PROOF-READ MY CHAPTERS BEFORE I POST THEM. PREFERABLY SOMEONE WITH WRITING EXPERIENCE. REVIEW OR PM ME PLEZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!