Percy walked through the fog as it swirled around him. He frowned. Normally he could sense the fog at least a little as it was made up of droplets of water, but he couldn't here. Why?

He didn't know. He also kept walking, as if his body were on autopilot.

A dream then? No, a vision. It had that feel to it. He didn't fight it, letting the vision take him where it would.

He was climbing something… a mountain? He couldn't be sure, unable to make anything definitive out through the fog. Eventually he came to a plateau, or at least an area that evened off more. An enormous wall spread before him. A castle? Dark and foreboding?

Othrys. Almost as if in reaction to that thought, the fog cleared some, revealing… ruins. Various forms of black stone lay scattered everywhere. The remains of Othrys? But, even these ruins shouldn't be here. It was as if time was undoing itself…

A booming laugh drew his attention. Instinctively, he was drawn to a relatively intact door leading down. Stepping automatically around the stony remains, Percy crept silently down the stairwell he found.

"Bring in the next one!" The voice shook the earth.

"NO!" someone shouted—someone obviously much smaller and with less power than the first. "NO! KELSEY!"

A girl yelled angrily, grunting. Percy hurried faster, reaching the bottom of the stairwell to find himself in a long, underground hall. Along one side, barred cells had been built into the wall. All of them empty. In front of the cells sat cages; tiny cages each holding a human who could barely sit up.

No, not a human, demigods and legacies. Monsters were dragging a struggling girl away from the cages. She had dark brown hair and hazel eyes that reminded him of Demeter sometimes. Or Ceres.

"Don't worry," one of the monsters (Percy couldn't make out which type through the dream) said nastily. "We'll take him next.'

"No!" Kelsey shrieked. "He's a legacy! He won't—"

"Too bad," another voice said. The monsters stopped and the girl—Kelsey apparently—looked up, and up, and up at two enormous figures. The first, booming voice had been malicious, and Percy knew the voice, even though he couldn't place it at the moment. He knew the second 'large' voice too, though it seemed cold and calculated compared to the first. "Perhaps you shouldn't have opposed our lord."

"Like you would have given us a choice," the girl hissed. Percy liked her. She had guts.

The second figure (Percy couldn't make them out) leaned down. "Maybe you'll last longer than the last one, then? Take her."

The monsters dragged the struggling girl towards Percy and up the stairs. He let them pass and turned to follow, but the vision began to fade.

"No," he said, starting to run, reaching out to hold the dream in place, but he'd never had any connection to the realm of dreams. Not outside of what those dreams could show him. The vision slipped away like fine mist, leaving Percy with more questions than ever.

xXx

Percy didn't know the healing hall of Camp Jupiter like he knew the room in the Big House the Apollo campers used for their equivalent at Camp Half-Blood. That didn't stop him from recognizing where he was almost immediately when he slowly came to. More beds, different aesthetic, same feeling. One he'd never liked, because it meant restraints and rules and things he couldn't control regarding himself. It came with being related to multiple powerful sea deities. Although, to be fair, he'd never met a demigod who liked recovering in the healer's hall.

ADHD sucked.

Part of him wanted to go back to sleep, but most of him needed to know what had happened. The feeling was familiar, nostalgic, but was definitely one of those he hadn't missed after his ascension. Perfect memories could be a blessing and a curse, but was something he liked relying on.

Forcing his eyes open, he saw a large hall full of beds in three rows. Annabeth sat in a chair next to him, leg bouncing as she read, something that only happened when she was uncomfortable or on edge. Which, considering where they were, fair. Next to her, on a small side-table, sat a sketchbook and pencils. He could already see several designs on the pages.

Taking a deep breath was enough to draw her attention, gray eyes flicking over to him. Relief flashed across her face before she closed the book and sat forward.

"Hey," he said.

"You. Are. Ridiculous."

He snorted, smiling. At least he wasn't drooling

.

"What did I do to gain that title this time?"

She rolled her eyes. "Only working yourself to exhaustion." She huffed.

"Had to save lives," he replied, allowing his eyes to close for a couple more moments.

When she didn't respond, he opened them again and found her studying him. "I don't get you," she finally said. "It's almost like you don't care about yourself at all."

He frowned. "I do."

"Do you?" she asked. "Because this isn't the first time you've worked yourself to exhaustion to help people. Only one or two of them were even in real danger this time."

Why would that…

Oh. Right. Greek god. Of course she'd find that surprising.

"You didn't expect that from a former… you know," he glanced around, looking for anyone listening in. No one was really close to them, but there were other people in the hall: healers, other patients, guards. They couldn't be too careful.

"No, I didn't," she said. "Especially a son of Po… Neptune."

"That's fair," he muttered. He knew his father's myths. "Demigod domain, though."

"Yeah, but that only explains so much. You… care."

Hadn't he proved that? Several times over? "Of course I do. I've always thought life is precious. No matter how short most mortals' lives are. Besides, I'm still… I was still young for one of them. Most of my friends had only been dead for a little over two centuries by the time I came back here."

"Hmm," was all Annabeth said. He wasn't exactly sure what was going on in her head… and that wasn't something he was used to.

Finally, she sighed. "You called me 'Wise Girl'."

Percy blinked, then his eyes widened and he sat up. "I did? Styx, I'm sorry!" Right, he did remember that now. Sort of. It was fuzzy.

She didn't answer, lips tight as she looked down. She didn't believe him.

"No, really, I'm sorry."

Annabeth huffed. Percy internally kicked himself.

"Look," he said as calmly as he could, "I'm trying. I promise I am."

"Then why did it happen?" she asked quietly.

It was Percy's turn to look away. "I've spent…" he paused and looked around. No one nearby. He could finish that sentence. "300 years remembering your face in that capacity. That doesn't just go away."

His companion sighed and slumped back against the chair she'd been sitting in. "That makes sense. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed, flopping back onto the bed. It wasn't an awful mattress for what it was, but not exactly comfortable either. Eh, he'd slept in worse places. After a few more moments of silence, he managed to put his thoughts together. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I really don't. So I am sorry, and I promise I am trying. I know it's not a lot, but… that's all I can offer right now." Could she really expect more of him? Former god or not? He had a feeling that had a lot to do with this.

"Yeah," she said after a moment. He noticed she didn't say it was alright, which was frustrating but understandable, so he didn't push.

Instead he looked around for a healer, or at least a reason to change the topic. He found the latter when he saw a section of the beds closed off with sheets hung between pvc pipes at the far end of the hall. He could sense people there. All of them were demigods, but his loyalty domain was acting up too.

Annabeth turned to look in the direction he'd gestured, then shrugged as she swiveled back to him. "I did ask. They said chronic cases from earlier in the siege. Though they did just take someone over there earlier today."

Percy frowned. "That would make sense…"

"What would make sense?" Annabeth asked.

Oh. Right. He hadn't explained all of his domains to her. Not really. He should… probably do that, seeing as they were technically on a quest together and she knew about his time-travel.

Once again, he glanced around before leaning closer. "So, you know I have my own domains now. Five… er, six." That still felt really weird to say. "Though I've always had a connection to my dad I could use in a pinch. That link is stronger now than it was in the future." When he was his own deity, though it really had always been there.

Her eyes narrowed. "That still seems really clean-cut for a Gr… er, Roman god." He wasn't sure why she bothered. Too much would be given away if someone heard the conversation at all. They were both still looking around warily with almost every word.

He shrugged at her comment. "Like I said, I was new. There hadn't been a lot of time to get my origins mixed up." Which was still not something he liked to think about. He didn't want other people to force him to change. Ever.

"And what did you mean when you changed it to six?"

He shrunk back a little, looking down. "I… recently gained a new one. Remember when I said something clicked inside of me on our last quest?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh."

He nodded. "Yeah. Anyway, I know that last year, I told you about my domains, but kind of focused on the ones that were really relevant," destruction and liquids definitely, and the depths too, he supposed. "There's also loyalty and—"

"Demigods," Annabeth finished for him, her eyes narrowing even more. "You said your loyalty to demigods stopped you from destroying Olympus, but that's more of the loyalty domain. So what exactly do you mean when you say 'demigods' are your domain? And how does that apply here?" At least she was whispering.

Percy sighed. They were getting side-tracked, but he didn't think trying to keep the conversation at the original point would endear him to her, so he didn't fight it.

"Protection, health, general knowledge. I'm sort of a patron. Or… I was. Now I'm… it's complicated." Probably a mascot. Oh, the irony.

"I'm sure," she said sardonically.

"It's not my fault this all happened to me," he protested.

"Right," she said. "So you can help demigods?"

"I mean, I always have, but it's a little more. I can… you know, can I give you the run-down later? When there's a much smaller chance of us being overheard?"

It took her a second to nod, but she finally did. "So, back to loyalty and demigods?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I can sense demigods. I have a harder time with legacies unless they're particularly loyal to someone or the camps." Or himself in particular, but he didn't like to encourage that. "The more loyalty someone can demonstrate, the more in tune with me they are. Those demigods," he nodded towards the cordoned off area, "light up like Christmas trees."

She raised an eyebrow, then glanced back at the area and frowned. "All of them, though?"

"Yeah."

"How many are there?"

He blinked, but didn't see a reason to not answer, so he closed his eyes and counted. "I can sense fourteen."

"Can you sense their health?"

"Sort of. They're… not doing well. Most are in comas." His heart went out to them. Maybe he could do something for them?

"All of them?" Annabeth asked again.

He gave another nod. "Yeah."

"And there aren't any others over there? Some that don't register on your senses like that?"

Percy blinked. "I don't think so. Why?"

"It's just… statistically strange. If they're just casualties from the war, some people could have gotten hurt when the fighting started. And others could have been traitors, or just doing their job. Why do they all register like that to you?"

Well, now that she mentioned it… there was some variation, but it was minimal compared to what he normally sensed after a battle. So she, unsurprisingly, had a point.

"Do they have limbs missing?" Annabeth asked, the glint in her eye saying she'd just found a puzzle she'd like to solve. It wasn't the obsessive look she could get, but if they didn't reach a reasonable conclusion soon, it could become that.

Unfortunately, he couldn't really answer her question. Well, not definitively. "I don't… think so?" They seemed to be in perfect health other than exhaustion and some minor problems here and there, but that didn't always take lost limbs into account.

"Hmm. You said something about Unicorn draughts? Do they work like ambrosia or nectar?"

Percy was already shaking his head. "No. They're magical, not divine. More than half of the legion are legacies and can't handle direct ambrosia or nectar. Even watered down can be dangerous, so the Unicorn Draughts were developed as an alternative. They're enhancers, more than anything else." He went on to give her examples and she paused, thinking.

"They still sound like they can cure and heal a lot," she said. He nodded. "So why haven't those people been cured? Can draughts not bring them out of comas?"

"I guess that would depend on what put them in a coma," he admitted. "But you have a good point."

Another pause. "Do you… think you could do something about them?" Annabeth asked slowly.

"I was trying to figure that out myself," he said. "There's a good chance I could do something, but obviously I'd have to know what was going on first. And even then, I don't have the kind of power I used to."

"Hmm," Annabeth said again.

"The people behind those curtains are prisoners returned from the Titan army," a new voice had them spinning to see an obvious child of Apollo (at least one of them kept their name across pantheons) dressed in Roman armor standing there, a clipboard in hand.

His eyes rose when Percy's sword stopped at his neck and Annabeth crouched, ready to pounce. His gaze went to the sword.

"That's… um… how did you get that in here?"

Percy sighed and dropped his sword. His Celestial Bronze sword that someone had just gotten a really close look at. Not imperial gold. He needed to come up with an excuse for that.

"It's from my father," he said. "Made of a metal not used around here, and it returns to my pocket within a few minutes, no matter what happens to it."

The boy looked thoughtful, though surprisingly not upset. "Huh. No wonder Terminus seems to be apoplectic."

Annabeth sighed and gestured to the boy. "Percy, this is Marcus, legacy of Apollo." She sounded a little bitter when she said that. He made a mental note to ask her about it later.

"Are you my doctor then?" he asked instead, focusing on the young man. He had golden-blond hair, of course, but brown eyes instead of blue or gold, and glasses. Otherwise, he looked like just about any other legionnaire, lanky and lean, though with the obvious muscles in his arms, he had to be an archer. Big surprise there.

"That would be me," he said. "We have to keep our visiting representatives healthy."

"How often do you get liaisons from gods, Dr. Marcus?" Percy couldn't help but ask.

Marcus rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, you're the first as far as I know, but I think that's all the more reason to keep you healthy."

Fair enough.

"Also, it's Mark." Huh. Most Romans insisted on using their full name—at least their first name. Percy already liked this guy. Maybe that was the closet anarchist in him.

"You were talking about the people over there?" Annabeth cut in, wanting to sate her curiosity as always.

The smile on Mark's face faded as he looked at the closed-off area. "I'm only telling you this because everyone more or less knows, and I want you prepared if you get captured."

"Captured?" Percy asked slowly. He had a really bad feeling about this.

Mark nodded. "Captured. That's how we realized there was an army parked outside our door. They didn't come in and attack, they just started grabbing people going on supply runs or quests. It wasn't until Praetor Jacobs managed to escape and get back that we even knew what was going on." He sighed, shaking his head. "Ever since, we've found people dumped in front of the tunnel every couple of days. Usually one person, laid out. They don't seem to care if anyone comes out to check on the person, letting us take our injured back. Probably because they know there's nothing we can do for almost any of them."

He sighed. "I don't know what they're doing to them, but nearly everyone has been returned alive, if with severe exhaustion and, for some reason, gray hair."

It was that last part that tipped Percy off. He stiffened. Annabeth must have noticed because her attention was on him almost immediately.

"What is it?"

"I… think I know what's going on," he said slowly. "But you're not going to like it."

"I doubt I will, but we're at a loss right now," Mark said tiredly. "Please, anything could help."

Percy swallowed. "I think… the Titans and monsters are kidnapping demigods to hold up the sky."

The other two stared at him.

"I assume they took a lot of demigods," Percy said quietly. "Wouldn't that explain why? Most demigods couldn't hold up the sky for more than a day. A couple may not even last hours. It's demoralizing for the camp, it brings down the enemy numbers, and it allows them to free up a certain Titan…"

"Atlas," Mark whispered. "I… their bodies do show signs of extreme stress… Oh. Di immortales. It's worse than we thought."

"Yeah," Percy said quietly. "How many more are missing?"

The healer's mouth thinned. "Close to forty."

Percy cursed while Annabeth paled. That was two thirds of Camp Half-Blood during a normal summer.

"We have to do something about this," Percy said, making to get up.

"I'll bring it to my centurion and the Praetors," the healer said sternly, putting a hand in front of Percy to stop him from getting up.

"No, you don't—"

"I don't get it?" Mark asked. "You just got here, those are my friends and fellow soldiers out there, and you really want to say I don't understand?" He didn't say it harshly, but there was a warning in his voice that only healers seemed to grasp in Percy's experience.

Not being stupid, he immediately shut his mouth.

"I promise I'll bring this new… theory to the proper channels. It will have to go before the Senate before we can issue a quest anyway. Unless a god specifically asks for one."

"And even then," Annabeth muttered.

Thankfully, Mark seemed more amused at her comment than anything. A chill Roman. He hadn't really expected to run into one—especially a healer—this early in the timeline. Though, did Dakota count as chill? Probably.

Seeing that he couldn't do much about it (no matter how unhappy his demigod domain was), Percy sighed. "Fine. When can I leave?"

"Tired of our hospitality that fast?" Mark asked.

"No," Percy said quickly, the last thing he needed to do was offend more Romans, "I…" he faded off when he saw the smirk on the healer's face. Oh. He really liked this guy. "I think it's pretty universal that demigods don't like being stuck somewhere."

The smirk on Mark's face grew into an outright smile. "That's fair. I—"

He cut off when the doors slammed open and none other than Praetor Jacobs stood in the doorway, fuming.

"Jackson!" he yelled.

And that's when Percy saw the real healer inside Marcus come out. His face darkened as he turned to rush towards the newcomer instantly.

"Praetor Jacobs! Lower your voice!" Oh, and it looked like he wasn't the only one. Several others dressed in white lab-coats hurried over, each looking about ready to kill.

"How dare you! I am a praetor and—" Jacobs started, but much to Percy's satisfaction, Mark cut him off. Apparently he was the head healer around here. Well.

"I don't care if you're a god! You will follow the laws laid down by our city and the legion! This is a place of healing and you will respect it or you will not be welcome back! Do I make myself clear?!" Definitely a Roman.

Praetor Jacobs blinked, surprised. His face reddened, but he glanced around at the other healers backing Mark up and seemed to think better of it. He was still far enough away that when he lowered his voice, speaking through his teeth (so satisfying!), Percy and Annabeth couldn't hear.

Which was a little strange. As a god he'd definitely be able to.

It wasn't the first time he'd thought that.

"You know," Annabeth whispered to him, amused, "I think healers are the same no matter where you go."

Percy snorted.

The two continued to watch as Praetor Jacobs and Mark had a heated, but far more quiet discussion. Then the healer stepped back in surprise. Jacobs nodded grimly, as if to say 'now you see why I did that'.

Mark frowned and stepped forward, whispering something harshly and making the Praetor scowl before Mark turned around and hurriedly made his way towards Percy and Annabeth.

"Apparently," he said when he got into speaking range, "there has been a problem regarding your… er, teammate."

Percy frowned. "Tyson? What's wrong?"

"He's currently making his way—very loudly—towards the Caldecott Tunnel, calling your names."

"Calling our—" the time traveler cut off, eyes going wide before turning to Annabeth accusingly. "You didn't tell him?"

Annabeth's mouth thinned. "It didn't cross my mind."

Percy wanted to groan. She could not get over her biases fast enough. Sighing and shaking his head, he turned to look up at Mark, already getting up.

"Do I have permission to go?"

Mark's expression dried out. "Would it stop you if I said 'no'?"

Percy didn't answer with anything other than a shrug, but the healer got the message.

"Yeah. Not surprised. Thing is, you need to rest to recover. After you calm your brother down, either come back here or go back to your boat. I don't care. Just go somewhere you can stay for the whole night and rest. We'll get to any decisions regarding you and the camp tomorrow, but today is your rest day. Understand?"

Percy grinned. "Yeah. Thanks, man."

"'Thanks, man' he says," Mike muttered. "Are you even Roman?" Percy and Annabeth exchanged glances, but Mark didn't seem to notice. Apparently it had been a rhetorical question because he was rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I don't even want to know how Neptune raised you—or why he was allowed to. Just follow instructions, please?"

Percy nodded, maybe a little too quickly, before hurrying out of the hall, Annabeth hot on his heels.

xXx

Mark sighed as he watched Jackson and Chase leave, both steering well clear of Jacobs. Which, with the obvious animosity, was understandable. If Mark had dared defy orders and push boundaries like they had, he'd be avoiding authority for as long as he could too. He had a feeling the delegation demigods were going to be some of those demigods. The kind that managed to stir up trouble no matter what.

He'd actually find it amusing and get ready to sit back and watch the fireworks if he wasn't the one who would have to deal with the fallout.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Praetor Jacobs shot him a dirty look before turning and storming out himself.

"'Join the legion,' they said," he muttered to himself as he made his way back to the coma ward. "'Become a healer! Your father was a healer! Your grandmother was a healer and daughter of Phoebus Apollo! You'll do great! It'll set you up for life!'"

Which was all true. But that didn't mean he had to like the pressure of the job.

"Four more years," he muttered. Then he could open his own practice in New Rome, or go to school and actually become an accredited doctor in the real world. Or… something. Something other than being roped into the harsh regiment that was the Legion.

Not that he hated the legion. It was just… getting old.

He glanced down at their newest patient. He'd known Margarita before. A stunning beauty, daughter of Venus, the ability to tell anyone their deepest desire; now she lay, unconscious, looking like she'd aged 40 years in the last two weeks she'd been missing. Her long, thick brown hair now lay in a stringy halo of white and gray around her. No color left. Hollow cheeks, sallow skin, and he'd just gotten the x-rays back too. Severe damage in her spinal cord, hip, knee, and ankle joints. Just like the others. Most of that could be addressed with the Unicorn draughts, but not all of it. And definitely not her hair. The aging might be healable… but the biggest problem was the fact that there were thirteen more patients they hadn't lost. Two (both legacies) had been left on their doorstep near dead and hadn't made it.

As much as Mark didn't like to think about it, Jackson's theory made sense. Why wouldn't Saturn want to free one of their best generals? And as a bonus, dropping them off alive back at Camp Jupiter was putting a strain on their medical supplies. There hadn't been this kind of a shortage of supplies in decades. Not since the civil war, when their camp needed supplies but they hadn't had access to the natural unicorn breeding areas in the Cascades. They'd been all the way over in the plains at that point, where they had more access to…

That thought struck him for a moment and his eyes almost unconsciously rose to the door where the demigods had disappeared through.

'Are you even a Roman?' he'd asked. He hadn't meant it, but…

"No," he whispered to himself. That didn't make sense. The newcomers obviously wanted to help Camp Jupiter and New Rome. They'd gone against orders to do so. There could be severe consequences for that, and they seemed to realize that. "It couldn't be." Lord Neptune himself had claimed them. It made no sense. Besides, "They were wiped out."

And yet…

He glanced down at Margarita again. How did they come to that conclusion so quickly? Being under the sky to free Atlas. To be fair, they had seemed to have a very private discussion after Jackson had initially woken up, one reason Mark had waited for them to seemingly change subject before approaching. Everyone was entitled to their own secrets and privacy.

Except…

No, he had circumstantial evidence at best. Mark was not about to throw the entire valley into chaos by accusing Lord Neptune's delegation of being their mortal enemies (next to, you know, monsters and Titans). New Rome didn't have the capacity to deal with that right now, and even if it was true, and those two were Greek, as long as they were here to help the camp, he didn't care.

He didn't.

To be fair, he didn't have time to. Not when the valley was essentially under siege. (Though why hadn't the monsters attacked en masse? They'd proved they could today…)

No, he had to focus. He had a report to type up so he could liaise with the other healers and Praetors (which he also needed to schedule) so he could get more opinions on if this new theory—as much as it made sense—was something they were willing to entertain.

He was busy. They were fine.

He'd just… keep an eye on them. Yeah.

xXx

AN: I did not mean for Mark to take over this chapter. TT . TT

Got this up the next week! Woohoo! Will TRY to keep up with it... 'Try' being the operative word.

Thanks to my beta readers and a particular group of generous supporters: Srinikha, Snow, Asterius Daemon, Shadow Slayer, Starlight3, The Chromancer, Fiah, Pan_theytic_idiot, aaron E., Rayanne E., Splashbear, Shelby A., Rodger44777, and Quathis for their help on this! (It's been a while, so if I've left anyone out, PLEASE PM me on discord. I will gladly fix it.)

Discord: www. discord. gg/xDDz3gqWfy (no spaces)