Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and The Olympians series belongs to Rick Riordan. I do not profit from this in any way. Sometimes I borrow lines directly from the books but for the most part this story is AU. I just decided to put the original series in a blender to see what comes out.

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it's been a little while but I'm excited for you to read the next chapter. On with the show.

Chapter 6: At Least They Were Already Dead

14 June 2007

Sailing was a new experience for Jason, but not an unpleasant one. Percy had talked often about being out on the open water with the sun shining and a gentle breeze blowing through his hair. Jason could see how this would be relaxing. In fact, he thought that it might even be as peaceful as cloud surfing, an activity Jason had discovered along with his ability to fly at eight years-old. While he definitely preferred letting warm air currents carry him from fluffy cloud to cloud, Jason would definitely ask Percy to go sailing with him when he got back. If he got back. That thought returned Jason to the sour mood which had stuck with him since his argument with Percy and through the first two days into the quest. He wasn't bothered by seasickness at all since he could just hover until the waves calmed down, but some of things Percy had said made his stomach feel just as queasy as seasickness would.

It hurt that Percy saw him as a baby, as something to be protected. He could fend for himself. Jason didn't think it was arrogant or farfetched at all to believe that he was probably the most powerful demigod at Camp-Halfblood, and maybe even in recent history. Sure, he might not be the most physically strong, or the fastest, but he felt that if you tallied everything up, he could probably come out on top against almost anyone, provided they weren't a god, a legendary unkillable monster, or someone who had tons of experience. Actually, now that Jason thought about it. That list was likely a lot longer than he would like it to be. Damn it. Percy was likely right and that just made Jason's mood even worse. The nauseous feeling in his stomach grew and he sat down with his forearms and chin resting on the second railing, his shoes being misted by the ocean spray as they sped south toward the Bermuda Triangle.

Maybe he shouldn't have said those things to Percy but he hates it when people treat him like a baby, or as simply Percy Jackson's little brother. He was Jason Grace, the son of Zeus, King of the Gods, and that was supposed to mean something. He wasn't weak. He wasn't.

"Ugh. Are you seriously going to sit there and pout the whole trip?"

Jason looked up from his spot to see Clarisse standing over him. The tall, muscular, 15-year-old daughter of Ares had a scowl on her tanned, angular face. Despite her clear disapproving posture, Jason found himself momentarily distracted by the way the sun light caught her short, light brown hair, making it look like spun gold. She had a spear strapped to her back, a dark blue bandana to keep her hair off her face, the sleeves of her Camp-Halfblood shirt torn off, and gleaming guards on her forearms and shins. The queasy feeling in Jason's gut turned lighter but somehow made him feel just as sick as his face began to heat up and his mouth go dry. It was strange. For some reason, he couldn't speak and couldn't look away.

"Well? Don't just sit there gawking at me," Clarisse said as she began to tap her foot. "Answer me before I rearrange your face."

Jason shook his head back and forth to clear the sudden onslaught of strange intrusive thoughts.

"Sorry, I didn't hear what you said." He stood up from the railing and nearly slipped but managed to get his bearings quickly.

"I said, are you gonna mope the whole time we're on this quest. I hope the answer is no, because, otherwise, I'm gonna throw you overboard. Maybe the saltwater will wake you up to the life-or-death situation we're likely about to sail into."

Jason's face warmed in an unpleasant way she addressed him.

"First off," Jason said while crossing his arms. "I can fly. I thought Ares's kids were supposed to be good at fighting."

"We are," Clarisse responded. "Gonna be hard to fly if you're unconscious when I throw you, doofus."

"I'm not scared of you." Jason said. He frowned and the wind began to smell faintly of ozone.

"Oh yeah? Prove it. Spear to spear." She pulled the spear from her back and the butt of it hit the deck with an ominous thud. Jason gulped but he wasn't going to back down now.

"Alright. You're on." Jason pulled his collapsible spear from its sheath at the small of his back.

"That's more like it, but I don't want you running away when things get tough. We're going to do this my way." She made an odd gesture with her off hand and roughly 20 undead confederate soldiers came from below deck and assemble themselves into a circle.

Jason followed her to the center of the circle. The soldiers closed the circle behind him with their bodies and Jason grimaced at the smell. He gave his spear a few experimental swings until the balance felt right in his hands and then he settled into a stance.

"How are we doing this?"

"We're going to go until disarming. Use whatever power you feel you need to but don't leave the circle."

"That doesn't seem realistic," Jason quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "Scared?"

Clarisse actually laughed in his face.

"In your dreams, twerp. In a real fight, its dumb to let your enemy control the battlefield. You flying off only gives them a chance to do that. If anything, I'm doing you a favor. Now, shut up and fight already."

She lunged at him with a straight thrust that he just barely managed to get around. He didn't have a second to think as he quickly found his feet swept out from under him and he landed hard on his back. Before he could get up, there was a spear at his throat.

"I know you're only eleven and all but there's no way it should have been that easy."

"Shut up," Jason grumbled as he got back to his feet. No way was he going to let that slide.

"Why don't you make me." Clarisse leveled her spear at Jason and smirked.

He summoned a gust of wind to try and throw her but she somehow maintained her balance on the rocking ship while weathering the invisible push. She grinned harder and began to stalk around him like the large wild boar that would be left in the forest for hunting and sport at Camp. She tapped her spear on the deck and the circle of soldiers took a step closer. Jason began to feel the pressure of the fight weighing on him. If he could barely handle himself against a daughter of Ares, how the Hades was he supposed to get through this quest? He decided that it had to start with being bold and taking a chance. He thrust his spear at her face with the best form he could muster. Then, at the last second just as she had begun to dodge, Jason pivoted on his heel and turned the thrust into a perfectly executed feint to take her legs out from under like she'd done to him. He got stopped cold. A few swings and poorly timed dodges later, Jason was once again looking up at the sky. Except this time, his view of his father's domain came with a massive headache, heavily bruised legs and arms making him look like a strange purple cow, and a small gash on his left shoulder.

"I never imagined that the son of the literal King of the Gods would be so weak." Clarisse twirled her spear lazily without even a drop of sweat to mark the ass-kicking she just gave him.

The self-pity and feeling of utter failure became too much and Jason's eyes began to tear up and he was too sore and in pain to even wipe them away.

"Oh brother." Clarisse sighed. "Sheesh kid. You really need to get over yourself and stop laying there like some kind of grumpy cloud."

The despair gave way to a burst of rage Jason had never felt before. His entire body heated up as he began to see not red, like the other times he'd heard others talk about their rage, but white. His vision clouded over in haze of super-heated white light and he screamed from all the pain and rage in his body. There was a sound like the cracking of a whip followed by a rush of concussive wind like a sonic boom. It took a second to clear the spots out of his eyes but when he finally did, he was shocked to see Clarisse slumped against the front metal railing which had been clearly dented by her body. A shield lay in two pieces to her left and her spear had rolled to the right side of the ship where it rested on a pile of ashes. Jason guessed those ashes used to be a few of the undead soldiers. Jason's anger vanished at the sight of a smoking Clarisse who was struggling to get up.

"Shit. Are you alright?" Jason helped Clarisse to her feet and she shook her head and blinked like she was clearing out mental cobwebs.

"Not bad, grumpy cloud." She let out a weak chuckle and pressed her palm to her forehead.

"You're not seriously going to keep calling me that, are you?"

"Yeah," Clarisse said with a clearer voice. "When you can beat me hand-to-hand decisively without any of your fancy powers, that's when you'll have earned your name back with me. Till then, you're just a little grumpy cloud."

Jason sighed. "This sucks."

"Don't worry. I'll train you."

Jason's head snapped back to see Clarisse grinning at him. Though this time it was kinder and more carefree. He felt his cheeks warm as he noticed her eyes were a nice shade of brown that reminded him of his favorite chocolate bar.

"You will?"

Clarisse shrugged and looked out toward the ocean.

"Sure. Strong allies means that my chances of surviving go way up. It's pure self-preservation. So don't go thinking I like you or anything. And if you don't give me one-hundred and ten percent every time we train. I'll smash you into the ground until you do. Got it?"

"Got it," Jason said, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"What the fuck happened up here?"

Clarisse and Jason turned around to see Beckendorf with a panicked look on his face.

"Uh. Nothing. Just a little training." Jason chuckled and rubbed the back of his head.

"I'm only letting that bullshit answer go because I've got an update."

"What's going on," Clarisse asked while sheathing her spear.

"Well, okay so you know how there's only two entrances to the sea of monsters?"

Jason nodded. "Yeah. Jason and the Argonauts went through the clashing rocks. Are you saying we're almost there."

Clarisse frowned and crossed her arms.

"That doesn't make sense," she said. "They only got through that because of Hera's blessing, and last I checked, we ain't blessed."

"Right," Beckendorf said. "I thought so too which…is…why. Shit how do I say this?"

"Spit it out, Charlie," Clarisse said while grinding her teeth.

"Scylla and Charybdis. We're heading straight for them."

"Shit," Jason said.

"Shit," Clarisse said while making a weird gesture with her hands.

"Shit," Beckendorf said and got confused looks from the other two. "Sorry, didn't want to be left out of…uh…the shit."

As the team sailed closer and closer toward the two mythical monsters, dead Confederate soldiers began to pour out from below deck to man the different stations of the ship at their undead Captain's orders. Jason was surprised to find both Beckendorf and Clarisse looking at him expectantly. He didn't know what to say or do in that moment. He'd never been in charge before, let alone for something as dangerous as this quest was turning out to be. That was usually Percy's thing. He missed Percy. He always seemed to know what to say or do in these moments. He would usually get the opinion of the other campers and then think for a few minutes before deciding. Jason didn't know if he was equipped to do that.

"Jason!" Clarisse grabbed him and shook him a little as she shouted his name. "Wake up! What do we do?"

Jason had no clue how to answer that. "I…uh…I don't…Percy usually—"

Clarisse slapped him hard. "Percy isn't here! This is your quest! You've got to make a decision or we're all going to die!"

The slap had the desired effect of making Jason mad, and with that anger came clarity. He pushed Clarisse off of him and turned to Beckendorf who was looking around at the soldiers manning different parts of the ship to keep it on course toward Scylla and Charybdis. The waters had grown choppy and the sky had gotten dark, threatening torrential rain as well as lightning and thunder.

"Clarisse," Jason yelled over the sounds of the ocean and the storm. "Who do we have a better chance against? Scylla or Charybdis?"

Clarisse nodded. "We have no way to fight Scylla. She's too high up on the cliffs. I say we charge Charybdis and blast our way out." Clarisse ended her assessment by pounding her fist into her palm. Jason nodded along with her.

Their planning session was interrupted by a large groaning sound coming from the bowels of the ship. Beckendorf swore in Ancient Greek.

"There's something wrong the engine! I think there might be too much strain on the pistons. This ship isn't meant for deep water!"

"Can you keep her afloat?" Jason spread his hands out like he was pushing against two walls to slow down some of the wind that had grown too intense.

"I can try!" Beckendorf gave Jason a pat on the shoulder and then went back below deck.

After a few more minutes, dark splotches appeared ahead of the two demigods. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea—an island with cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass. There was no way they would survive the massive, sea-sucking maw or Scylla's many hungry mouths if they didn't start laying down some serious firepower.

"Clarisse!" Jason pulled out his spear and aimed it at the sky. "Get us in range. I'll get us some extra boom."

Her grin was feral. "You got it Grumpy Cloud!"

"Full steam ahead!" Clarisse screamed above the noise. The sea churned around them, waves crashing over the deck. The iron plating was now so hot it steamed.

"Get us within firing range! Make ready starboard cannons!"

Dead Confederates rushed back and forth. The propeller somehow began to spin faster, pushing them forward, now a few football fields away from Charybdis.

"Lady Clarisse," the captain shouted. "Starboard and forward guns are in range!"

"Fire!" Clarisse ordered.

Three rounds were blasted into the monster's maw. One blew off the edge of an incisor. Another disappeared into her gullet. The third hit one of Charybdis' retaining bands and shot back at us, snapping the Ares flag off its pole.

Jason felt a little lightheaded and his body seemed to vibrate with energy. On the next cannon blast, a bolt of lightning from the storm struck three teeth at once. Jason thought he was getting close to passing out, but dug deep and raised his spear high in the air. He screamed as it began to rain lightning on Charybdis, leaving smoking holes or shattering teeth wherever they struck. He didn't know how long he held it. It felt like an eternity of nothing by light and rage. It felt good. Eventually, someone grabbed him and shook him hard.

"Jason! You have stop! Jason, Stop!" Beckendorf's drenched face was fixed in a mask of worry.

"Wha...wass...did we win?" He felt his knees buckle but Beckendorf kept him from falling.

"Not even close! Your lightning storm kept us from hitting the rocks but Scylla managed to pick off enough of the soldiers that we lost our cannons pretty quickly. Now we're swirling to the bottom of Charybdis' gullet like a toilet bowl, and the ship is going to blow any minute. Got anymore bright ideas?"

He felt tired to the bone. He really wished he could go cloud hopping right now. Wait a minute. That was it.

"I've got it! Where's Clarisse?" Jason looked around but couldn't see the war god's daughter anywhere.

"Clarisse!" Beckendorf fell as the ship shuddered again. They were running out of time.

"Here!" Clarisse ran towards them but Jason waved her off, gesturing towards the tallest smokestack.

"No! To the smoke stack. We gotta get to the top!"

"Are you insane," Clarisse yelled but she did as she was told. She was half way up when Beckendorf started climbing.

Jason took a running leap and let the winds carry him towards the top. He jabbed his spear at a scaly brown and green tentacle that tried to grab him. He landed on the smoke stack just as Clarisse was reaching the top rung. He hovered in the air and kicked the lid closed and quickly locked it shut.

"JASON GRACE, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND!" Clarisse looked ready to mount his head on a pike.

"What did he do," Beckendorf was right under Clarisse and couldn't see.

"He shut the lid!"

"Is he insane?! That'll make the ship blow faster!"

"I know!" Jason slashed through the hinges with the tip of his spear. "Both of you climb on and quit arguing!"

"I swear if we get out of this, I will kill you!" Clarisse climbed up with a small backpack on her back, and Beckendorf followed shortly afterwards.

"Now what," Beckendorf yelled. Then the lid began to rumble.

"Owowowowowow!" Jason burned his hands trying to keep the lid relatively centered on the smoke stack.

"Shit! I think I see an Island!" Clarisse almost stood up but Beckendorf pulled her back down.

"Yeah! I think that's what he's aiming for!"

"Aiming? Oh. No. No no no no n—"

The top blew straight up and the ship blew up completely, shooting the demigods into the sky and toward an island in the distance. They screamed well past the first set of clouds and Jason silently prayed to his father to keep them a float long enough to get them in range. When they finally hit the apex, Jason thrust his hands out once more and, with his remaining strength, pulled an air current under them as the lid of the smokestack fell away. He carried them for as long as he could, but the second his strength faded, he began to lose consciousness. The last thing he saw was a wall sparkly blue water rushing to meet his face.