Disclaimer: Don't own PJO or the Whiskered Warrior.

Lunar Phases

New Moon

Time.

It crawls for those who watch it and springs ahead on the unwary. It was a chaotic order, an abstract concept turned concrete fact. Time was a measurement and an element all on its own. Mortals, for all their wishes, could not wield its power and few Immortals were able to manage it. The Greek Pantheon had a 'pseudo' god of time, which was actually a moniker for the father of Titans, so his mention or invocation was often ignored by Olympus. Often the concept of time when applied to mortals brought the Olympians great frustration.

December 23rd, 2007

The night prior was festive and fun for all on Olympus, save a select few. Apollo had masked his disappointment and disapproval well from his fellow gods, and kept the masses from harassing Artemis. She, her son and her hunters excluded themselves to her temple for a good portion of the night, likely to grieve their lost sister. The demigods, likewise, remained clustered together. Thalia Grace and Annabeth Chase took playful jabs at one another's makeover while Percy Jackson and the brave satyr Grover Underwood made conversation with partygoers.

When the time came for the Demigods to return to camp, Artemis volunteered to take her rescuers back. She entrusted her son to her twin — along with a sternly worded warning should he somehow 'misplace' the boy again — and, after a quiet moment between mother and son and a friendly exchange with the demigods (not to mention the slightly lingering hug between his lil nephew and the daughter of Zeus), they left. Apollo kept him along at his side for the remainder of the evening until it came time for his ride in the chariot to start.

After setting course for the standard flight path, the god took his mortal nephew to a small cafe in Times Square for breakfast, one he and Hermes often frequented whenever their daily paths would cross. He spoke through most of their meal, an easy feat given that all he ordered was a black cup of coffee, and watched the boy across from him.

"You just had to make a deal with an Egyptian." Apollo lamented for the upteenth time and scowled at the advertisements for Coke that Dionysus had been pushing through his departments. "Couldn't have been one of the minor gods like-like Janus, Hymen, or my Ace—"

"For the last time, Uncle Fred," the whiskered teen beside him sighed. "Khonsu approached me."

"And you shouldn't have acknowledged him!" The god snapped. A golden brow arched on the youth's face, significantly showing off his unimpressed look at the god's anger; a reaction similar to what his twin would do. The thought made Apollo cool off and he rubbed his hand over his face, slouching in his seat. "Sorry, I just, if I'd known you were going to—I hate the limitations set upon my domain! It's such $*&%!"

"Uncle," Naruto drawled. "I was banished from the Camp and Olympus. Not interactions. Yet."

"That's the keyword. Yet." Apollo scoffed. "All the Big Guy has to do is find you and Thalia Grace canoodling in a Camaro—"

"We're friends, Uncle." The boy cut him off with a roll of his eyes. Apollo scoffed at his words. The tension between his nephew and Zeus' latest little girl was higher than the tension between Athena and Poseidon. Naruto finished the last bite of the eggs Benedict he'd ordered and pointed at the god with the fork. "Besides, neither of us even owns a Camaro."

"You mean, neither of you own a Camaro yet." Apollo grinned. He just had a brilliant idea, one that gave him a glimpse into a few possible futures, all of which would make him beam with pride. A second jumpstart to the boy's hormones was all he needed to get him on the track of Truth and Righteousness! "Come to think of it, you're overdue for a sixteenth birthday present. What's say we swing by a used car lot, and-?"

"No, thanks." The god scowled at the dismissal. Naruto propped his head up in his hand. The other lifted and ticked off a finger. "One: most muscle cars are gas guzzling monstrosities that aren't doing the planet any favors. Two: I don't have a driver's permit, let alone a license."

"Well, that's easily fixed." The god snapped his fingers and a plastic ID card depicting the teen's face in a cold stare appeared in front of him. "You're welcome."

"I'm not using this."

"Naruto, I am a god giving you a gift. Accept it." He ordered, before grinning. "Besides, I already know you will use it, because I've seen it happen."

"For what, getting a ticket?"

"Spoilers."

The face he received from the boy was far too unamused for his liking.

"Relax, I've taught you just fine, you should pass any test." Apollo then shrugged and interlaced his hands behind his head. "Or if you really want to, you could just go without. Look at me, I've been driving for millennia! No license necessary."

"It's a miracle the world hasn't gone up in flames yet."

"You joke, but seriously kid, I'm the best driver on Olympus." Apollo leaned back and crossed his arms, frowning in thought. "Hermes only has me beat in official marks because I'm not allowed to use my actual ride in our races. That, and I'm pretty sure he always gets Hephaestus to mess with my backups."

"Uh-huh." Naruto mumbled as his attention shifted. His eyes were drifting towards a raucous group of teens near his age. Though hopeful that it was for a reason his twin wouldn't approve of, Apollo watched with an increasing feeling of dread as the teen's emotive blue eyes started to harden and grow cold. For a split second he thought he saw a brief flash of red. He chanced a glance at the group and—oh, &$%*.

They were harassing the waitress.

"Don't eve—%*&$." Apollo turned back to find the seat across from him empty. He scowled, he should've been able to keep tabs on the mortal at all times. How did the kid always manage to do that?

Oh right, Artemis raised him. The thought made Apollo scowl. He never admitted it aloud, but she was always so much better at hiding than he was at seeking. He needed to get her to key him into her nifty tracking device so that his slippery little nephew wouldn't disappear again.

Apollo whipped his attention back around to the table of ruffians when someone let out a yell. He winced and grimaced before paling as a series of crashes started to make patrons duck for cover. The god groaned and clapped his hand onto his face.

"I'm going to have to erase so many memories."

January 8th, 2008.

Naruto didn't stay in New York long after the year changed. After celebrating the new year with his mother and the Hunt in Central Park, Uncle Fred took him back to his old apartment in Pennsylvania. Or, he tried to. The God of the Sun was horrified to find the building condemned and abandoned, and frantically set about searching for a new home for him. He settled on renting a room at a hotel in Jersey City...

"It's temporary." Uncle Fred assured him once he dropped his bag on the bed. "Give me a few weeks and I'll have something set up for you."

"Weeks?" Naruto arched a brow, mildly surprised at the admission. He didn't really care how long it took, but to have a god say something as mundane as setting him up in an apartment would take more than a day was a bit odd.

"It would be faster, but Hermes is on his half day schedule to recover from and prepare for the holidays."

"What holiday does he have to prepare for?"

"…C'mon, Lil Nephew don't act like you never celebrated Valen—Right." Uncle Fred sighed at the annoyed look that crossed Naruto's face. The god closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, tilted his head forward and muttered something under his breath, before looking back at him. "Look, just-just don't do anything stupid like leaving without telling me, okay?"

"Ok."

"I mean it, Naruto."

"Okay." Naruto held his hands up to placate his (justifiably) upset uncle. "As soon as I get a disposable phone—"

"What?! Oh, no. Nope, not happening." Uncle Fred grabbed his arm, guiding him to the door. "C'mon, we're getting you on the family plan and a RAZR today!"

It had been two days since, and Naruto's poorly stocked supplies were running low. Not unusual, since he'd preferred to live off the land, but being in the heart of Jersey City, the chances of that happening were slim to none. That meant it was time to hit the grocery store and use his dwindling stipend to top off the fridge.

"I should get a job." Naruto muttered to himself as he walked into the hotel lobby. He was getting sick of sitting around and waiting for anything about school from Uncle Fred, or his Mother, or even Hermes himself. Checking the mail every morning, staring at his phone, watching TV, and rereading the same five comics could only entertain him for so long.

We could always go find someone to kill.

"Yeah, we're definitely not gonna do that." Naruto deadpanned. Ever since he left New York, his tag-along had become quite vocal. He stepped out to the January chill and shivered. He popped his hood up and zipped up his jacket. "C'mon, fuzzball, there's gotta be something you like to eat."

I gorge myself on human flesh!

"Uh-huh." Naruto drawled, pulling his Christmas gift from his mother closer around his face. A practical and warm scarf to replace the one he'd lost on the quest to save her. He felt an unnatural fury start to grow in the back of his neck and sighed. "Work with me here. What do you like to eat that won't make me a cannibal?"

Why do you care what others think? The way I see it, we have the power. The Fox chuckled. We can do whatever we want.

"Great theory, but –let me put this in a way that you can understand," Naruto said, stopping at a curb and glaring at nothing in particular. "I would sooner have Zeus atomize me than eat another human being, alive or not."

Tch, killjoy. The Fox grumbled. A beat passed before it growled. Fine! Get noodles and broth.

"You have to give me more than that." The chance that he'd get the wrong noodles and screw their slowly growing dynamic up were too high.

You're familiar with it, I'm sure. Those of your bloodline are addicted to…blast, what's it called? Ra-min?

"Ramen." Naruto paused and subtly licked his lips. He'd liked the food ever since Uncle Fred had taken him to a small stand in Japan. His mother had put a magical limit on his body's possible intake of the meal after he gorged himself into a food coma with seventeen instant meal cups when he was nine. Maybe that spell had worn off by now? Something to consider. "It's cheap, full of sodium, but manageable in our current living situation. Nearest store is a few blocks east, I think?"

Good! Then, onward! We have a feast to prepare!

"Fox? This might be the start of a wonderful partnership."

…The longer you dawdle, the more likely I am to start eating your soul.

"Point taken." Naruto deadpanned and hurried himself along.

Hugh Mann was arguably the most unlucky human in America. How did he know and say this with such certainty? For starters, his name was a pun. He flunked out of college because his alarm clocks always seemed to go on the fritz. His car was stolen and recovered absolutely trashed the day before Christmas. And at the top of the list of cruel irony, his girlfriend left him for someone named 'Esther' on New Year's Eve.

If any gods out there exist, why do you hate me? Hugh asked the cosmos this often. Usually, it was met with silence. Sometimes, he could've sworn there was something laughing.

To spite them, Hugh was determined to avoid being depressed by any legal means available to him. Consequently, he was such a diligent worker that he's been employee of the month at his job for five months straight. He was so good at managing his finances that his landlord Mr. Frisk had just given him a break on rent for a month. Most recently at a garage sale near his parents home, he found and restored a fully functional scooter that got him from A to B at no cost to the environment. That was last weekend.

And this week, we're going to keep turning the year around! Hugh thought to himself as the bell chimed. He straightened up behind his register and smiled at another customer that walked in, mouth opening to give them the traditional slogan greeting that seemed to be all the rage nowadays. Before Hugh could get the words out, he met the gaze of the hooded guy that entered.

Cold blue eyes glanced out from beneath the grey NYC hoodie, while a thick white scarf covered the lower half of his face. His hands were tucked into his stained jacket's pockets, making the guy's broad frame appear just a bit bigger. His sneakers were covered in snow, and his jeans were partially frozen, giving off the appearance of someone who had just hiked from the other side of the state.

Hugh faltered.

"Where's the ramen?"

Hugh almost jumped at the muffled timber. When had he gotten up to the counter? Oh god, he had a piercing in his ear. Oh, great he was getting flashbacks from junior high! Damn you Parker Peterson! That swirly ruined his and Janice's budding romance!

No, focus. Can't change the past! Focus on the present! Hugh snapped himself from his thoughts and pointed at aisle Four.

"Third shelf from the top, just before the hot dog buns."

"Cups or bags?"

"Um...Both?"

"Thank you." The teen headed for the aisle in question, and Hugh made note to keep an eye on him. Then the bell rang. He prepared for another greeting, but the new customer was not a customer at all.

"Hughey!" The greasy haired man in a green Adidas tracksuit. He had a single chain around his neck, and attached to it was a cross. Behind him were two larger men who emulated his style: both wore the same green Adidas tracksuit with white a-shirts underneath. One was bald, the other was not, and both were growing more hair on their chests than on their heads.

"M-Mr. Castiglione?" Hugh swallowed, recognizing the man from his auto-shop's online adverts. According to a few of his former classmates in his shop class, Castiglione was rumored to have been a "made" man in the '90s, fled New York during the mass convictions in 1999, and had since built his own little "family" in Jersey. But those were just rumors.

Sure, he came to the store on the first Friday of every month, but that was just a coincidence, right? The owner and manager, Mr. Goode, would usually speak with him in the back, but he had called in sick today.

"This guy!" Mr. Castiglione looked at the two other guys with a grin before he leaned on the counter. "It is the second Friday of the month, and you are just the guy I wanted to speak to! I was worried it'd be that new guy, what's his face? The &?!$&%* that doesn't know anything."

"Yuh-You mean Joel?" Joel hadn't been seen since Friday.

"Yes! Him! He's an idiot." Mr. Castiglione laughed at his own joke, before grinning at Hugh. Hugh felt like he was thrown in the middle of the lion's cage at the zoo. Mr. Castiglione drummed his fingers on the counter before pointing at Hugh. "But you, you're no dummy, eh?"

"Uh-uh, n-no sir."

"Ah!" Mr. Castiglione grinned. He pushed away from the counter and said something to his friends in another language. Italian? No, Hugh couldn't assume. Assuming only made things worse. Mr. Castiglione turned back to him, grinning. "I need my money this week."

"M-money?" Hugh blinked.

"Yeah, you know? The green &*$% we use to buy your $*&%? I need my cut this week. Call it an interest paid in advance." Mr. Castiglione smiled.

"I...I don't.." Hugh swallowed. "I...I can't do that, sir."

Mr. Castiglione stopped smiling. He looked at his bald friend and flicked his hand toward the door. Hugh watched Bald Guy go to the door and flip the store hours sign around. Mr. Castiglione sighed, drawing his attention back.

"Oh, Hughey. Tell you what. I like you." He pulled something from his pocket and dropped it on the counter with a loud clatter. Hugh stared at it. He'd never seen a gun up close before. "Here's what's going to happen. My friend Jonesy–" The big guy with hair cracked his knuckles. "–Is going to break your fingers. If I don't get my money after he breaks your fingers? I'm gonna shoot you in the leg. Deal?"

"Uh...Um…"

"Excuse me, is there a self-checkout or do I have to wait in this line?"

Hugh, Mr. Castiglione, Jonsey and the Bald Guy all looked at Hooded-Ramen-Guy. In his hands, filling two shopping baskets, were no less than thirty packages and fifteen cups of ramen. Each.

"Who the &%*$ are you?" Mr. Castiglione asked. Hooded-Ramen-Guy blinked and lifted his baskets.

"A paying customer." He lowered his baskets and tilted his head. "Who're you? The annoying-reoccurring criminal stereotype, the sympathetic-and-sad criminal stereotype, or the so-inept-it's-funny criminal stereotype?"

Mr. Castiglione turned beet red.

"Jonsey, snap this *%&$ &$*%'s neck!"

Hugh gasped and ducked down behind the counter to hide from the coming violence, only brave enough to peek over the edge.

Jonsey reached out to grab Hooded-Ramen-Guy by his jacket collar, and at the same time Hooded-Ramen-Guy dropped his baskets to the ground. Hooded-Ramen-Guy grabbed the offending arm in both hands, jumped up, and dug his feet into Jonsey's stomach. Jonsey stumbled back and slammed back first into the counter while Hooded-Ramen-Guy hit the ground. He rolled his legs up over his head and kipped up to his feet, arms raised at the ready for a fight like he had been studying kung fu all his life.

Jonsey, cradling his stomach with one arm, pulled a revolver from his side with the other and cocked the hammer. Hooded-Ramen-Guy disarmed him with a swift roundhouse kick, then with the same leg, kicked Jonsey in the jaw, ribs, and ended it with a jump spin kick that knocked him over the counter into the cigarette rack.

"...the &%$* kind of kung fu bullhockey is that?!" Mr. Castiglione asked, the Bald Guy staring incredulously at Hooded-Ramen-Guy. Hooded-Ramen-Guy glanced at them and shrugged.

"I'm enthusiastic about my hobbies."

"You smug little son of a–" Mr. Castiglione reached for the gun he'd set on the counter. Hooded-Ramen-Guy cut him off with a swift punch to the throat. Mr. Castiglione choked on his own words and stumbled back, tripping over the five-hour energy display that took most of the early morning to put up. Mr. Castiglione wheezed and gagged, floundering around to look at Bald Guy.

Bald Guy looked at Hooded-Ramen-Guy, then at Mr. Castiglione, at Hooded-Ramen-Guy, at the place where Jonsey landed, then at Hooded-Ramen-Guy once more.

Then, without warning, he held his hands up, shook his head, and ran out of the store.

"He's smart." Hooded-Ramen-Guy grumbled as he walked over to the counter. He grabbed Mr. Castiglione's gun off the countertop and turned towards the not-as-scary businessman. His weapon-free hand balled into a fist and he tightened his grip on the gun. "You're not."

"Hrlgk!"

"Looks like I was wrong on all accounts. You're the stupid criminal stereotype. Pity." He cracked his neck and stalked towards him. A slow, measured gait, like a wolf or a tiger stalking its prey. "Those guys usually don't make it to a hospital."

Hugh may or may not have wet himself after that line.

"Klgh! Krlgh!" Mr. Castiglione wheezed, rubbed at his neck and scrambled away from him. Hooded-Ramen-Guy tilted his head and let out a contemplative hum as he watched the man falter to push open the Pull Only door.

"Fair point." He flipped the gun around to hold it by the barrel. "But he said he wanted to break fingers, so let's start there."

What followed was a beating that Hugh would never forget for the rest of his life.

By the time Hooded-Ramen-Guy finished, Mr. Castiglione's face looked like an uncooked slab of ground beef and his fingers looked more like limp noodles than appendages. Dark red splotches stained Mr. Castiglione's jumpsuit, and the crotch portion of his pants had become darker in color. After he was done, Hooded-Ramen-Guy pulled the magazine from the gun and dropped both in the trash can by the exit.

Calmly, he walked back over to the baskets he'd dropped, gathered the ramen packets that fell out and put them back in. After picking both baskets up, he walked up to the counter and looked at Hugh.

"...C-Can I help you?"

"I'd like to buy these." He set the baskets on the counter. Hugh looked at him, stared more likely. Hooded-Ramen-Guy stared back, his eyes not cold or angry. Just impassive.

"T-Take 'em."

"I'm not stealing. I'm buying them." Hugh yelped when his eyes flickered red for a second, before going back to blue. Hooded-Ramen-Guy blinked a few times. "Sorry. Can you just ring me out before the police show up? I need to get home before my uncle comes looking for me."

"...P…Police?"

"You did call them right?" While Hugh stared blankly, Hooded-Ramen-Guy sighed. "The silent alarm should've been tripped as soon as the gun hit the counter."

Silent alarm? Hugh blinked and then crouched down to look under the counter. Sure enough, there was a button under the counter. He pressed it, stood back up, and then started ringing up Hooded-Ramen-Guy's ramen. After cashing out the total, he gave Hooded-Ramen-Guy his receipt.

"Have a Goode day!" Hugh smiled. Hooded-Ramen-Guy snorted.

"Funny. …Yes, it was."

"Um, what?"

"Take care." Hooded-Ramen-Guy left the store, being sure to step on Mr. Castiglione's gut as he left. Hugh leaned on the counter and waved at his back. He smiled and blinked a few times, then slumped back in a dead faint.

Cook faster!

"I can't make water boil." Naruto sighed as he leaned against the wall and half-watched the pot on the electric stove out of the corner of his eye. The rest of his attention was dedicated to the television in the main room, the news on the screen but the volume muted. He tilted his head as he read the caption. "'Hooded assailant puts local businessman in hospital'. Weird, that's not how I remember it."

It's boiling! Hurry, add the noodles!

"No it's not. And we'd still have three minutes."

Ugh...You are evil…I knew I liked you. Much more than that Red-Haired Bitch.

"What?" Naruto looked at the Sköll on his arm sharply. It was the image the Fox liked to speak to him through the most. He frowned when it grumbled something unintelligible under its breath and kept its gaze averted. He looked back at the pot and crossed his arms. "Fine, be stubborn."

Three loud knocks came at the door. Naruto wasn't expecting anyone, which probably meant either local law enforcement were at the door, or a god was visiting him. Rare, but knowing his luck, not unheard of.

It wasn't Uncle Fred, he didn't knock, he just entered, usually loudly and with obnoxious fanfare. His mother would've made him come outside. Khonsu would've just appeared in the room.

"It's open, come on in!" He called. If they were a god, they would stay outside until he opened the door for them. If they were law enforcement, they would do the same because of legal ramifications. If it was something else, they would come in. In all scenarios, he could focus on what he was doing and pretend they weren't there and the slim chance that they'd go away might come to fruition. His eyes went back to the pot, and he didn't fight the smile from spreading across his face when steam started to rise from it.

"Good news, Fox. The water's ready."

Yes!

The door, and half of the hotel room with it, exploded with bullets. The television ate a good dozen, the bed ate twice as much. Naruto himself was struck at least once in each limb. The only place where he wasn't hit were the vitals in his chest.

Worst of all, the pot was knocked off the stove by stray gunfire, and the freshly boiled water spilled all across the floor.

No! The Fox snarled. They must die!

"You know what?" Naruto felt The Fox's energy bubble and healed the damage to his body and got up off the ground once the shooting stopped. He sat up, glaring daggers at the various goons in tracksuits that he could see through the bullet holes in the wall. He reached up to the earring cuff on his left ear and pinched it. In a flash of white light, his axe from Ares appeared and he brandished it. "For once, we agree."

Naruto got to his feet, charged the shot up door and barreled through it shoulder-first, shoving the gunman on the other side into the opposite hotel room's door. The gunman, the same bald man who'd escaped the general store assault earlier, screamed as the doorknob drove into his back. Naruto's left arm hefted his axe up and brought it down to split the screaming gunman's skull. He pried his axe from the deadman, and let his body slump to the ground, a trail of red marring the pristine white hallway.

Seven more tracksuits stood in the hall, five of them frantically reloading archaic guns. Naruto narrowed his eyes. Their features shifted as they grew to eight feet in height and became larger in size.

"Men and Ogres." Naruto frowned. "I'm not sure which is worse."

Who cares what they are?! Rip them to shreds!

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Naruto threw himself at the next man with a primal yell. His weight brought the large criminal thug to the ground and he lifted his axe up. A gunshot rang out and his raised arm felt lighter. Looking up, he saw a hole and two fingers missing, the shot not only tearing them off but also knocking the hatchet out of his grasp. He glared at the shooter before looking down at the man he'd tackled. He grimaced as his fingers and hand grew back, but balled them into a fist and drove it through the man's face and the floor beneath it.

Naruto stared, dumbfounded at what he'd just done to a human skull.

You're welcome. The Fox grumbled. Now kill the rest!

"Holy &%$*! Did you see that?!"

"Kill that freak, eh!" An Ogre shouted.

"For Paulie!"

Naruto was tackled off of the mash-faced corpse by an ogre and carried through the ruined wall back into his hotel room and driven back-first into the folding closet door. Instead of flailing to get out, he wrapped one arm around the back of his assailant's head and grabbed under the monster's arm with the other. A tight pull on his part was followed by a jerk and a loud crunch. He rose to his feet as the dust fluttered away.

Blue eyes glared at the others staring at him in the hallway.

Rip! Them! Apart!

His hand raised. The axe he was disarmed of earlier flew through the neck of one Ogre, ridding it of the ten pound weight that sat between its shoulders, and landed in his outstretched hand. He closed his eyes, rolled his neck and let his red eyes snap open.

"Gladly."

Chaos ensued.

January 9th, 2008

"I'll admit it, I hadn't expected to find you here of all places." A bearded blond man with a crooked chin chuckled as he stared at the teen sitting in a holding cell. He was glad his young ward hadn't stopped practicing his combat skills. When word of the attack on a hotel reached his ears, he set out to learn more about it and bring some much needed peace to the community. He was surprised to see the boy get put into a police car and taken away.

The lad was a fine warrior and word had spread of the injustice done to him by the Olympians' All-Father. The series of misfortunes must be consequences of some Greek curse bestowed upon him. Seeing as he was all but fending for himself, Freyr decided to post his bond and make him an offer.

"Nice to see you too, Alf." Naruto drawled, his arms crossed. Freyr chuckled and tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Do you greet every god with such glib in your words?"

"Only those I like."

Despite their surroundings, Freyr barked out a laugh. He ignored the mortal law officers that stared at him oddly and walked through the bars that contained his wayward student as if they were liquid. The men would forget what they saw before it even registered. He sat down beside the younger blond and rested his arms on his knees.

"Before I get to my purpose for finding you, I must apologize for my abrupt departure. There was something I had to be present for, and I know that when I did so, I left you vulnerable." Frey looked at the boy's arm. His train of thought derailed and he glanced warily at the boy. "Care to explain why you proudly display the images of Hati and Sköll?"

"Apparently, I died."

"...No Valkyrie would mark you with those images, boy."

"They didn't. After you vanished, I was attacked by a giant fox that was hiding between the realms and used runes to stop it. Those runes appeared on my arm." Naruto gestured to the markings that still resembled the Norse written language on his forearm. "A month ago, I was shot. Bled out and died. It cut me a deal, brought me back, and afterwards the skin on my arm burnt off. It reformed with these two on it."

"Interesting." Freyr mused, rubbing his bearded chin. "Does it use their images to speak to you?"

"Sköll's image is its favorite."

"Ah. Mockery. Figures a fox would go for that." Freyr nodded. He sighed. "I'm afraid you've been marked by Fenrir."

"Because of course I was." Naruto groaned and let his head fall back to rest against the railings. His right hand lifted and rubbed his temples. "I just wanted to shut it up for a little bit."

You could've just eaten the bodies, Boy!

Freyr snapped his eyes down to the Sköll image. He narrowed his eyes. Sköll's did the same.

"So the beast speaks."

And %&$* you, too, Blondie.

"Don't pick a fight I can't win." The teen glared at his arm and then scowled at Freyr. "What do you mean Fenrir marked me?"

"Hati and Sköll are to be the ones to eat Sól and Máni when Ragnarök comes, and are the children of Fenrir. Their pursuit of their quarry is too much for them to turn away and give mortals any attention, which rules them out as the cause for this mark," Freyr said, his arms crossed in thought. "The Fenris Wolf may have marked you as a potential pawn or as prey."

That overgrown mutt proves no threat to me. The Fox assured with a growl. Freyr stroked his beard again.

"Perhaps." He admitted. "Many times, a cunning wolf has been outwitted by a lucky fox. The one who knows best of Fenrir, outside of Loki and Odin, would be Tyr."

"Lucky me. Another god of war." Naruto drawled. Freyr flicked the side of his head. "Ow."

"Pay your respects to the one that gave you the bone steel axe."

"Ares gave me this axe."

"Did he?" Freyr arched a brow. "And the son of Zeus is known for giving powerful weapons away?"

"Well, no, but—"

"And the Olympians are known for making weapons that return at will?"

"Poseidon's—"

"And the blood of their enemies often empowers their weapons?"

"…Okay, you've made your point." Naruto relented with a frown. "Maybe it wasn't Ares. But if it was Tyr, why not show himself to me?"

"We don't like to stick our noses in the business of others if we don't have to." Freyr shrugged. "And Tyr has always been a strange one. He willingly stuck his hand in the Fenris Wolf's jaws and became a minor god of war when Thor started to show better promise over the domain."

"That's...I have no words." Naruto mumbled, brow furrowed in thought. Freyr grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Then let's have enough of this glumness. You appear in a bit of trouble, want me to help you out for old times sake?"

"Just tell me what you want, Alf." The boy sighed. Freyr chuckled again.

"Sorry, lad. Sometimes I forget that you've dealt with more immortals than most mortals recognize. Onto my original purpose for seeking you out," Freyr said, getting to his feet and sticking his hands in his pockets. "There's an opening available at a hotel in Boston I know of. Paid living, food meals, and the insurance is…immeasurable. I think you'd be perfect for the position."

"Hold on. Back up." Naruto lifted a hand and raised an eyebrow at him. "You're telling me that you came here, to a mortal police station, to offer me a job?"

"I was going to offer it to you regardless of where you were." Freyr shrugged. The mortal gained a pensive look on his face before meeting the god's eyes again.

"What would I be doing?"

"You'd be a lifeguard."

"That's it?" The disbelief made Freyr frown. A challenging brow arched. "What, was the rodeo clown position filled?"

"Of course, you'd bring that up," Freyr sighed. "I apologized for that already, haven't I?"

"Laughing, yeah." Naruto scowled. "Not for actually signing me up to be one without telling me!"

"It worked out in your favor, didn't it?"

"Yeah, I couldn't use my left leg for a week. Great times," Naruto grumbled. Freyr sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. He may have had his sister help speed along the boy's healing with magic. "Could be worse, I guess. It could've felt like my insides were burning from the inside out."

I didn't hear you complaining when I restarted your heart. Cold blues glanced at the artistic representation of Sköll.

"You're not involved in this conversation, Fox."

I feel pretty involved whenever you take a shot at me for reviving you. The beast huffed. Be glad my comments have been mostly kept to myself, human.

"Selene, Helios, Cthulhu and Primus…" Naruto pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled. Freyr did his best not to chuckle at the invocation. That one addition always made up for the other because of its ridiculousness. Alas, he needed an answer before the other immortals watching the boy sought him out.

"Well lad? What do you say?"

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." Naruto sighed, dropping his hand to his lap. "I just need to make a call first."

January 10th, 2008

"Sorry I missed your call, Lil Nephew. I was in a very important…meeting…" The words died on Apollo's lips as he appeared in the middle of his nephew's hotel room. Bullet holes, blood stains, and chalk outlines marred the hotel floor. The television was knocked down and had a numbered card in front of it. Apollo took all of this in and nodded.

"Okay. Okay. Don't panic. Maybe that's what his phone call was about." The god pulled his cell phone out and listened to the last message.

"Got a job in Boston. Sorry about the hotel room. Later, Uncle Fred."

"That boy is maddeningly unhelpful when it matters." Apollo mumbled, staring at his phone incredulously. One word stuck out to him and he gaped. "Boston? Did he say Boston?!" He tried calling his nephew back immediately and started pacing when every call sent him to voicemail. "C'mon, Naruto, pick up the damn phone! Ugh, why do you have to make things so difficult for your Uncle Fred? All you had to do was sit tight for a few weeks! Argh, why doesn't he just listen to m—?"

Mid step, he almost tripped over something. Looking down, he found a silver circlet under his sandal. He picked it up, stared at it for a moment and then paled drastically, to the point that his flawless skin lost its subtle golden hue.

"I lost him again." He mumbled. The circlet dropped to the ground with a clatter and he slumped against the wall, rubbing his face with a groan. "Artemis is going to mount my head on her temple wall."

AN: Poor Apollo, still unable to keep an eye on his nephew. When will he learn?

Thanks for reading!