Time: Same Time

Hestia had disappeared as soon as the two appeared at Ogygia, after a few hours of sleeping and cuddling in the grass.

Percy felt mildly worried for her. Did she regret her actions? It was not like he had forced her to do anything she did not want to do. Rather, she had jumped him, despite his warnings.

He strode down the hallways purposefully, ignoring the few girls he met. It was still early in the morning, and most of them were asleep.

He really hoped Hestia wouldn't be avoiding him or acting awkward. He didn't know what to think. He looked at her like a good friend or family member, and he was at a loss as to how to react to her sucking his cock. Dealing with angsty immortal goddesses wasn't really his forte.

She sucks cock good. His traitorous mind supplied unhelpfully, and Percy felt his ichor rush to his cheeks as the image of a submissive Hestia kneeling before him.

Forcefully he pushed the image from his mind, concentrating on the task at hand.

He would check on the hearth goddess later, right now, he had promised her he would check on Sydney.

The day was well on its way. The sun was up, bathing the world in its golden, life-giving light. There was a beautiful, strong breeze, swaying the tall palm trees and rustling their leaves. The waters in the pool were slightly choppy, glistening in the sunlight, a stray rubber paddle floating in the middle of the water. The air was fresh and sweet, and despite the bright sunshine, Percy knew that there would be a tropical storm coming on at night. The air was filled with the cries of seabirds in flight, mixed with the gentle singing of the native Titaness as she tended to her garden.

Calypso was the only one on the island who was up and about so early in the morning, apart from Athena and Hestia.

Percy had seen her gardening during both his stays at Ogygia, and he could fondly recall it as one of his best memories, tugging at the corners of his lips. Her perfect smile that lit up the garden as she moved about the trees and shrubs and herbs, each leaf, each flower as soft as her skin. She would pluck a moonlace flower to braid her hair with, and fill her handwoven basket with medicinal herbs and plants.

Before he knew it, Percy was standing on a plain, black, woollen rug in front of an equally plain wooden door. There was a childish drawing of two stick figures hung on the door, with crude writings, as if done by a child. One of them had been crossed out with a pencil, the other read 'SYDNEY' in squiggly, black, capital letters. Beneath the drawing, on a gold plate, in elaborate, black cursive writing that was a one-eighty degree change from the previous one, was written the name of the other occupant in the room- Angela.

He knocked on the door, feeling his pulse quickening in anxiety as he stepped back to wait.

The door was flung open not twenty seconds later. "I told you to leave her al- oh, it's you." Angela eyed him up and down, the animosity, and protectiveness for her best friend and roommate, not receding a bit from her voice.

"C-can I talk to Sydney for a bit?"

Angela let him in, closing the door behind him. Not offering her a seat or speaking another word, she resumed her spot on her bed, which was closer to the door.

Percy examined the room quickly.

There were two twin-sized beds, separated by a few feet, with two foot rugs and a night table between them. There was an unopened pack of cards beside a glass of water on the table. Angela's side of the room, beside the door, was filled with shelves packed to the brim with books of all kinds, as expected of her. Sydney's side of the room was oddly Spartan, with a bathroom door on the black painted wall, and only a single closet as the only piece of furniture on her side. A mild fragrance of lemon and lime wafted through the air of the room.

Angela sat on her cream coloured bed, with a pillow in her arms as she observed him, her eyes conveying her desire to see Sydney up and about again. Her curly blonde hair, so much like her mother (the one and only Athena) and... Annabeth, shined despite the darkness in the room.

And Sydney... Sydney. The usually lively, fun, life-loving daughter of death was curled up at a corner of her bed, right in the corner of the room. The black silk sheets of the bed were rumpled and messy, the black pillows strew about. Sydney was crying with her knees drawn up to her chest, her silky black hair forming a veil around her face. Her body, wracked with sobs, was clad only in a sports bra and short panties that she wore to sleep.

Disregarding her lack of conservative clothing, Percy sat on her bed, within her arm's reach. He sighed, leaning against the head of the bed, and staring up at the plain, white ceiling, waiting for her to react to his appearance. He had a strange sense of deja vu.

When she did not react, reminding him of someone else, Percy took the initiative. He touched her shoulder, and immediately, as if a switch was flicked, the daughter of Thanatos threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

For once, Percy managed to control himself from ogling the almost naked, ravishing, toned, delicious form of the Huntress.

Bewildered, yet understanding her actions on an innate level, Percy wrapped his arms protectively around her, holding her close to him as she sobbed into his chest, dampening his Camp Half-Blood t-shirt.

He stroked her long hair, soothing and comforting her in her distress. "Sydney, Sydney, what happened?" He spoke in a soft voice not to scare her.

"The other girls shouted at me, and hurt me." She sniffed, finally looking up at him. Percy's heart broke, seeing her bloodshot, dark grey eyes wide with fear, and brimming with glistening, unshed tears. Her nose was red and puffy, cheeks wet with streaming tears.

"Did they-" he hesitated, "Did they hit you?" Percy asked, hoping, and praying that the warriors packed into his harem hadn't lost themselves to mindless violence.

Sydney shook her head, lifting a burden off his chest. "N-no, they-they called me names, and said hurtful things."

Percy just held her, letting her speak out her mind before he gently comforted her. Or at least tried to. "Why were you afraid of me, Sydney?"

She looked away, hiccuping slightly. Percy drew her close to himself, his arms strong and protective, his warmth comforting. "I-I lost my sister when I was little." He knew it, of course, the picture outside their door was drawn by her sister when they were little. "And then, my-my father came, and took her away. Then-then, at Camp, I was shunned for being a daughter of Thanatos, and in war alone, even in the cramped Hermes Cabin. That was before you came along. I-I hated my father, and all Dark deities. I blamed them for all that is evil in the world." She sniffed, burying her face in his neck. Percy felt her tears, cool and wet, against his skin.

"And now, I'm a Dark god myself." He spoke softly, making the girl nod weakly. Percy tightened his grip on her, careful not to hurt her, yet convey his fierce love for her. He could wholeheartedly sympathize with her sentiment. He hated himself, too.

"Don't believe what anyone said, Sydney. You're beautiful, and your smile brightens up anyone's day. Know that even if you're not wanted anywhere else in the world, I and Angela would always be by your side. We need you, Sydney. We need the old you back, the most boisterous, and clumsy, and loud one of the lot." He gripped her shoulders, rubbing her smooth, bare skin, and jerking her to force her to look into his eyes,

"What you did, I would have done too if I were in your position. Athena's speeches are the grandfather of all of Hitler's speeches. Everyone was sad and angry at that time, Sydney, including myself. It is only human, or demigod I suppose, to be afraid. Even I was always afraid." He pulled her back into his signature, tight bear hug. "I love you, Sydney, don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Despite her small hiccups and the occasional sobs wracking her small body, Percy could feel her wet smile against his chest as she clutched possessively at his shirt, as if letting go would mean the difference between life and death.

Angela watched the scene quietly, not being able to help but feel jealous, and left out of the scene. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, but she shook her head, no. Her friend needed Percy more than she.

Percy must have seen her, or even, felt her emotions, as without looking at her, he offered her an arm, beckoning the daughter of Athena to join them in the hug.

Thankful, yet slightly disbelieving, Angela joined them, wrapping her arms around Sydney and Percy both as she buried her face in the god's strong, broad, muscular chest. How Percy could have been a Dark god when he was always so cuddly, cheerful and protective, was beyond even her Athenian intellect. Some people were just... skilled at hiding their inner selves.

She basked in his comfortable warmth, something she could not comprehend would come off a Dark god, inhaling his scent that made her feel a bit light-headed and bothered.

The trio remained in the position for a bit, when Angela broke the comfortable silence. "Percy..." she looked up, meeting his sea-green eyes with her own grey orbs. "Is-Is what my mother said true? About you being abused as a child?"

She could feel the hug getting tighter, as if Percy was looking to them for comfort. His heartbeat picked up, and Angela had no trouble following his erratic breathing. She needed no other answer to infer the truth.

Despite his best attempts, a lone tear escaped Percy's eyes, as he took a shaky breath. "Ye-yeah. He-", his voice broke as his lips trembled in unbridled emotion, and the two girls understood his silence, hugging him tightly, and silently urging him not to speak anymore, not to hurt himself anymore.

Percy held them close to himself, seeking their comfort and warmth. How he had managed to become the one being comforted, he didn't know. He had thought that he had overcome it a long time ago, but after Annabeth's loss, the mere mention of Smelly Gabe was enough to bring him to his knees.

A few minutes later, the three were sitting on Sydney's bed. Angela had her head on Percy's left shoulder, her head resting against his chest with her arms around his, holding it tightly to his chest. Sydney mirrored her actions on his right side.

Percy laid his head against the wall, enjoying the comfortable silence and warmth. "Have you ever gone to the arcade?"

The two Hunters looked up at him. "What is that?" Angela asked, ever curious, while Sydney merely shook her head, no.

Percy smiled mischievously at them, booping Angela's cute button nose. "You'll find out in a few days."

And he sprang out of the bed, sprinting as fast as he could, followed by Angela's rants, and Sydney's shouts of "It's a date! It's a date!"

With a golden blush on his face at that, he continued sprinting, not trusting the fact that the daughter of Athena was not chasing him. When he slowed down, he let out a bellowing laugh. A lone tear trickled down his cheek, this time in mirth, as he clutched his belly, laughing and imagining Angela's face.

He was abruptly cut off when he noticed the door he was in front of. The door his feet had unconsciously led him to.

Wincing internally, Percy knocked on the door, hoping against hope that Hestia would open the door, and avoid any more drama.

Within a few seconds, Hestia flung the door open, a bright smile on her face.

Percy could see it was fake, and her smile faltered as soon as she saw it was him at the door. His heart broke at seeing the smile of the gentle goddess waver.

"May I come in?" His voice was soft, breaking her out of the trance that she had fallen into.

"Yes, yes, of course!" She welcomed him in, and Percy stepped in, closing the door behind him. His attention was not on the room, at all, rather on the state Hestia was in.

She had just stepped out of the shower, and had just a long nightshirt on. The navy blue shirt was wet and darkened in patches, sticking to her smooth skin, flushed pink in the cold of the room. Her brown hair was damp and dripping with water, and she was rubbing her hair with a fluffy blue towel. The nightshirt ended midthigh, giving Percy a prime view of her luscious thighs and small feet leaving wet patches on the shining marble. She carried with her the pleasant scent of freshly plucked apples and roses, which did not give Percy a single clue as to which shampoo or soap she used.

Cut him some slack, he is not Aphrodite or her daughters.

Her waist seemed to sway enticingly before his eyes, but Percy assumed it was just his imagination.

"So, why are you here?" Hestia tried to erect her best smile for him, falling short.

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. "I talked to Sydney. She will be there for dinner." He smiled, a crooked, slightly strained smile.

Hestia was silent for some time. "You are feeling uncomfortable. You want to talk about what happened earlier." She stated in a bland, emotionless voice, which seemed alien coming from her lips.

"Ye-yes." Percy rubbed his sweaty palms uncomfortably, not meeting her eyes. "Ca-can I sit?"

Without waiting for her answer, Percy collapsed on the small chair by his side, and finally examined her room.

Her room did not have anything extravagant, and exuded a homely feel. Her pale yellow marble floor was squeaky clean, and her walls were painted a plain white, hung with a few paintings Rachel had made for her in her free time. There was an average-sized, twenty-five-inch television mounted on one wall, facing the bed, so that she could watch movies as she fell asleep. The air was cool, and slightly stung, thanks to the central air conditioning, something vital in the tropical island.

"What are we?"

Hestia smiled softly, her warm brown eyes shining with emotion as she invited Percy to her lap with a beckoning motion. "I don't know, Percy. Everything is happening too fast, too confusing. This has never happened before, I've never felt like this. That was my first time having sex."

A golden blush dusted her cheeks, but she continued, her voice soft and gentle, wondering, wondering, "I don't know..."

"He-Hestia, I'm sor-sorry." He clenched his fists tightly, squeezing his eyes shut to hold in the tears threatening to spill. Despite his best efforts, he felt the cool drops on his fists. It was too much, the accusing voices... it was all his fault. He should have died.

There was a sigh, before he felt himself being embraced. "I'm only messing with you Percy," Hestia muttered, holding him close from behind, comforting him as she nuzzled her face between his shoulder blades. Percy ignored her, clawing at his face in anguish as he screamed, letting his bottled hurt and angst out. Tears mixed with blood ran down his cheeks.

He felt a calming presence wash over him, and recognized it as Hestia's magic as the Dark god inside him screamed in pain as it was washed, purified and exorcised by the hearth goddess' powerful, magic.

It was so... bright... that Percy could not take it anymore. He was a creature of the Dark, he belonged to the shadows, the pain.

He screamed in pain, and almost immediately, Hestia's magic retreated.

He whipped his eyes open, but immediately squeezed them shut. There was so much light, his eyes burned and he felt as if his optical nerves had been fried.

He heard a gentle, soothing voice wash over him. "All will be safe, my love. I'll protect you, heal you as much as I can."

Percy understood the unsaid part, too. Hestia was a healing goddess, and she would try to heal him as much as she could, but his inner god would struggle against her.

"What are we?" He repeated, trying to ignore the burn and pain inside him. He felt as if his bones were melting, his nerves were on fire. Someone was drilling a hole into his skull, and he had a pounding migraine. If this was healing, Percy would have gladly stayed insane and broken. Nightmares and PTSD were much better than... this, all-consuming pain.

The screams of his Dark, godly power, a vital force in itself, rung in his ears.

He felt a soft hand stroke his messy raven hair, and he leaned into the comforting touch, which provided him with some mental strength to bear the pain in silence. He had to do this.

"We are whatever we want to be." Hestia's voice floated in, and Percy suddenly felt an overwhelming, animalistic desire to sink his teeth into the soft skin of her neck, watch with glee as the fresh ichor bubbled from her carotid artery, moistening his lips, to watch the life drain from the goddess' eyes.

He was horrified at himself, trying to reason with his insanity, of course, a fruitless attempt. Luckily, the hearth goddess came to his rescue again. "We can pretend earlier never happened."

"Ye-yes. I'll take you on a date. We can take it slow, yes?" In the burning pain numbing all his higher thinking skills, Percy forgot all about his promise to Sydney and Angela, or the kisses he shared with Thalia.

He could feel a blinding smile directed at him, and again, buried the bubbling hate against her light that brightened up the world, erecting a strained smile for her.

Again, her soft hand stroked his hair. "Now, my hero. You rest, and allow me to do my magic. Good night."

And like a switch being flicked, Percy slipped from the light he so desperately clung to, succumbing to the darkness inhabiting his mind.

AN: How was it? Could have been better, in my opinion. Okay, here's a joke I just thought of.

1: Mom, I'm going to watch the Sabaton concert with my fellow soldiers! Do you know where I kept my anti-aircraft missiles, sniper rifles or tank keys?

2. Mom, I'm going to the Amon Amarth concert with my fellow Einherjar! We will take the longboat, my homie's bringing the weapons! Don't stay up, I might be late! We might raid and pillage some villages on the way back! Remember to lock the door, I will just smash my way in.

3. Mom, I'm going to watch the Alestorm concert with my fellow pirates on my pirate ship! Do you know where I kept my cutlass and flintlock? Okay, don't stay up! We might be partying and drinking, or get into a battle with the Royal Navy on the way back! Yarr!

4. Mom, we're going to the Powerwolf concert on our horses! Do you know where I kept my armour and sword? Okay, don't stay up, we might retake Jerusalem on the way back! Deus vult!

Meanwhile...

5. Mom, I'm going to the Justin Bieber concert! Do you know where I kept my expensive designer costume that looks awful and cost a small fortune, and that will rip at the slightest thing?

6. Mom, I'm going to the Billie Eyelash concert! Do you know where I kept my box of tissues which I will inevitably need when I listen to her sad (read: terrible) songs?

7. Mom, I'm going to the BTS concert... oh fuck it, they just cancelled their concert because their lead vocalist, who BTW looks like he doesn't know his own gender, has got a lethal paper cut.

Keep calm and CR7!! Keep calm and LM10!! (Messi)