Full summary: I was never supposed to be born, being a daughter of Hades, and all. I was never supposed to go to school, or go to camp, or even exist. But more importantly, I was never supposed to fall in love with a god... especially one who's "grounded." To make matters worse, a psychotic redhead has a vendetta to destroy who-knows-what, probably everything. Things seemed to be under control, but something was off, and even Chiron couldn't tell Camp Half-Blood what was going on. But even with the pressing matter of the end of the universe itself, or maybe just the age of the gods, it seemed as though Aphrodite wouldn't stop with the distractions. Great, as if the infamous camp director wasn't trouble enough without the love goddess' help.

Author's note: This story is slowly being rewritten. It's an AU, differing from the original series in a few ways, but my co-writer and I try to keep it as close to canon as possible. I don't suggest reading on to chapters that haven't been rewritten, because details will change and it probably won't be the same once I get to it. But, if you have any questions, leave a review or a pm and I'll get back to you.

There could be some dark themes, most likely explicit things later on, just as a fair warning.

This story is half of a whole. You don't need to read the other to read this story, but it's a lovely read and about Apollo. The title of the other is Elena's Story, and my dear friend Riley has started to rewrite it, as well.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything written by Mr. Rick Riordan, this is but a humble work of fanfiction that I hope entertains you in the least.

School was never something I was going to fit into. Not in elementary school, not in junior high, and it most certainly not in high school. It simply was never going to get better, despite what my aunt and several counselors had told me, and I think I knew that from very early on. I've always been the ostracized child. School psychiatrists had a field day with me, the instant they saw me they knew they were going to drag me into their office to be analyzed sometime that year. In the third grade I was convinced that was their goal and tried to act normal, but that lasted all of three months. I was suspended a week later.

I wasn't some teenager going through a phase, nor was I being dramatic. I knew for a fact that I wasn't popular, that I was the opposite of popular, I was very antisocial. But most of the time, it wasn't my fault. I wanted friends. I wanted to have sleepovers and play-dates. But nobody would befriend me, they were frightened of me, and I had no idea why. I was lucky to have made friends with Elena before school even started, and I was worried that I was going to lose her up until junior high. But once high school hit, she was stuck with me, and I knew I wouldn't let her go.

But, in truth, I didn't really have anyone else. I didn't have other friends, allies, acquaintances… I was alone, a freak of nature, and that was something I could admit. I was told often enough.

Perhaps it was the very beginning when everything went terribly, terribly wrong. Kindergarten was the earliest I could remember, halfway through that school year, Elena and I were on our very first fieldtrip. Even then, we were inseparable. I can't remember much, we were so young then, and almost a blur surrounds the memories, but Elena and I somehow escaped both of our teachers and sneaked off into the forest. We were chasing after something. All I remember is that it was silver and wispy, almost like a cloud.

Of course, a single demigod would attract a monster, but that was usually once the kid was a little older. But the thing is… the reason Elena and I stuck together, through thick and thin, against all odds, staying by each other's sides even as we moved from school to school, was because we were both of godly decent. Both demigods, brought together by some inner pulling, some sort of instinct. We didn't even realize it was happening, but it somehow kept us safe in the worst of times, and not many demigods can say that they had someone there with them.

At the age of twelve is when the monsters start to hit, usually. But with two demigods, holding hands and wandering off alone in a very dark, dense forest, it was like holding a giant sign, signaling for monsters to come get us. Later, when I learned of monsters, I wasn't surprised that one came after us. I never remembered what it looked like, but the stench was so potent, it was something one could never forget. Sulfur, feces, and rotten eggs… I remember Elena and me looking at each other, wrinkling our noses in disgust.

Two five-year-olds alone in a forest with a terrifying monster at our heels? We were dead meat. Even as demigods, we had no idea how to protect ourselves, we were still such young children. Lucking for us, we weren't the main target of the monster. To it, we were just a lucky snack while it was on its way. We were being watched over, in the good way, by a band of girls. They, compared to the memory, I remember very clearly. There were a bunch of them, all ranging in ages, although they all looked pretty old to me considering I was five. They were dressed in green, silver, and the occasional black. They group of them surrounded the monster just as it was about to swing its long claws at us. I didn't see what they did to the thing; I was too busy squeezing my eyes shut in fear.

There were a few slashes, I could hear something cut the air, and then there was a loud thud. I peeked a single eye open, catching sight of nothing but golden dust on the ground. The girls, now that the monster was gone and I could see them better, had a silvery aura to them. They reminded me of the angels my mother told me about, at the time. The leader stepped forward, appearing to be the oldest in the group. She gave my best friend and I a very long look, then said something quietly along the lines of, "Protect yourselves, maidens." Then, she nodded to the other girls, and they gathered their things and left. It was very much like chicks following a mother duck. I noticed that the last one following, however, was a girl with snow-white hair and she looked like she very much wanted to speak with us. She never got the chance.

After an hour of us tripping over fallen branches and logs, crying in a daze, the police found us. It wasn't until I read the police report a few years later did I know the details of the condition that they found us in. We were covered in golden dust, and we had scents to us. The policeman who found us was very confused, I could tell as much in the report. He said, and I quote, "One smelled like the ocean, and the other smelled like… like autumn."

We were excused from the fieldtrip and sent home to our parents. My mother then gave me a very long lecture on not running off from the group, and then made me a cup of hot chocolate and read me my favorite bedtime story. It was one of the Greek myths that she always read to me, she always said that they would help me later on in life, but I always assumed she meant in school, in a literary sense. Never did I think they would actually apply to my life.

The next mishap was three years later, when I was in grade three. At this point, Elena had transferred schools after being expelled for pulling the fire alarm. I remember she did it because it was hot in the halls, and she thought some water would cool us down. I thought she was insane. But this fieldtrip was to a greenhouse, and a very big mistake. I didn't have many friends, and without Elena by my side, I wasn't sure what to do. I sat alone on the bus, curling up in a ball when my teacher forced one of the boys to sit next to me. When we got to the clear, plant-filled building, I wandered the isles alone, listening as the guide droned on about proper nutrients for plants.

It was a particular pair of roses that caught my attention and made me stop. I remember them, the little flowers still imprinted in my memory. They were quite possibly the prettiest things I had ever seen, which meant a lot to me at that time. It was hard, I was nine and my mother had been sent away. I didn't know then, my aunt said she was sick and that she needed help. I didn't ask questions, she made it very clear that asking about my mother, or my father, was something that we didn't do in our household.

The roses were a light pink, but had the littlest tint of orange in them that made them appear to be almost golden. I lifted my hand while marveling at the flowers, my head tilted in fascination. My index finger caressed the soft, silky petal. My joy was short-lived, because moments after I touched it, it started to turn brown, withering and dying right before my eyes. Right there, right in front of me, right in front of the very people who had tormented me for the past year and a half.

I snatched my hand back, clutching it with the fingers of my left hand, and tried my best not to cry, or scream, or even start hyperventilating. I was panicking. It wasn't me, was it? It couldn't have been me, there was no possible way that could have happened. Plants didn't just die like that, especially ones as pretty as that rose.

Looking around, almost timidly, I realized that someone else had seen. At first I was relieved, they would believe me and help me ask my teacher, find out what happened, but my relief turned to dread when I saw their expressions. Disgusted, unhappy, and… smug. There were three of them, three girls, and very much like the three from the movie "Mean Girls" that came out a few years later. The leader was named Jamie, which was actually a pretty awful name. I didn't see why she was popular. She tugged on my teacher's sleeve, pointed at me, and said, quite loudly, "Look! Look what Emilie did!"

My expression soon turned scandalized, and I took a step back, uttering some excuse. How plants did that naturally, and all of that. I couldn't ask what happened because then I would have gotten in trouble, but looking back on it, I wish I had asked. It would save me a lot of future trouble.

My sophomore year was no better. At sixteen, many things had changed. Personalities, friends, bodies…but not the distaste for me. At least I had some people who liked me, I was considered a bit odd, but certainly not the biggest freak in the school, and that was all I could have asked for. Jamie was one of the most popular girls in the school, but she was also one of the biggest sluts. There is nothing wrong with being a sexualized woman, but there is never a need to sleep with a man just for social purposes. She did just that.

Even though I was rather innocent in my high school, I still made a rather interesting record for myself. The stoners looked up to me as if I were some sort of god, the jocks looking at me, in my low-cut shirts and skinny jeans, as some nerd girl who didn't really fit in anywhere. Every private school and public school that I was ever sent to, I was kicked out of. My aunt never seemed angry with me, and I could never figure out why, but I didn't complain. I didn't exactly have parents, and she never exactly had kids, so we worked with what we could.

When I was forced out of private school, I had to attend the same high school that I tried my hardest to avoid. I had no choice but to cover up my abnormalities, but luckily, Elena was a troublemaker, too, and by some off chance, we were sent to the same school for the first time in years. Because of this, it wasn't easier to behave, but it was easier to cover up our mistakes. For example, one day Elena found a dagger. It was sharp, long, and completely not hers. She had no idea how it got into her bag in the first place, but we had to get rid of it before someone saw it. Kids got caught for smuggling little three inch cigarettes. A nine-inch knife would surely draw some attention. I've always been the sneaky one, so I sneaked it into my geometry teacher's mini-fridge.

People always assumed that they knew everything about me. Assumed that I cut myself, or my favorite color was black, or that I smoked weed- which I tried once, by the way. I didn't like it, felt way too vulnerable- and that I'd sleep with anyone. None of those things were true. In fact, my favorite colors are peach-pink, gold, and okay, black, but only sometimes. My mom is clinically insane, my aunt is a hippie, and I never met my father before the age of sixteen. Not that I could recall, anyway.

The day things really went to shit, though, didn't even start out well. I failed my English assignment- which, to be fair, wasn't ever really my fault because I suffered from dyslexia- I got hit in the face with a volleyball in gym, dropped all of my books in front of a cute boy, and my best friend and I got attacked by a monster.

For her, the day started out normal. Elena had her band fieldtrip to go play someplace, I didn't actually care, and I was stuck back at school. Though she was in band, she wasn't considered a band geek like many others. She was actually considered cool. Her hair was short, spiky, and black, although she had bright blue highlights incorporated into it. Her eyes were a deep sea green, and she was tall, or at least, much taller than my five feet and four inches. She was pale, but not nearly as much as I was. I could have been a ghost. I never went outside if I didn't have to.

She and I are probably opposites in appearance. We are never mistaken for sisters, except maybe that one time, but the man was practically blind. My hair was long, wavy, and dark brown, not like Elena's, who appears to be so black it was nearly blue. Mine had more of a brown to it, although anyone would say outright that it was black. My eyes are brown that occasionally look read, my skin is pale, like porcelain, frail and easy to bruise, and my features were rather soft compared to hers. My eyes were large, doe eyes, they were called, my nose was like a button, and my cheekbones were a prominent although my face was round.

I lived with my Aunt Samantha, though she much preferred to be called Aunt Sammy. She told me that I used to wake up in the middle of the night from my night-terrors. She said I looked like death itself, because I was always so sheet-white, which was probably not the best thing to tell a child. Life with my Aunt Sammy was… flowing. We had a system, if I got in trouble, we would have a long talk about it, and then promptly never speak of it again.

When Elena arrived at school after her trip, she was in the worst of moods. The people with her had gotten on her nerves, which was to be expected, they were idiots, and the last thing she wanted to do was eat lunch with the very people she detested. I suggested that we eat in a more secluded part of the school, nobody would be anywhere near the track, which was pretty far out. She agreed full-heartedly, and we headed out. She always packed her lunch, and I never even bothered. I stopped bringing my lunches to school after my mother was taken from me, and she took it upon herself to feed me. She packed me my own lunch, a sandwich along with hers, a water bottle, a bag of chips… it was good. Better than nothing, which was what I would have had if she wasn't there.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and I paused for a moment, swallowing my food before speaking, forcing the thick bread down my throat. "Did you hear that?" I asked her casually, leaning back on one arm, my hand digging into the grass. We were in the center of the track, I detested the way the cement felt against my skin when we sat down on it, hot and rough and unpleasant. My fingers intertwined with the grass, not caring about the dirt smudging my palm. I wasn't looking at her, my eyes were closed and my face was facing the sky, my chin up and my expression relaxed.

"I didn't hear anything," she said in reply. I heard the crunch of her chips and the crinkling of the bag in the center of her lap, her legs crossed. We didn't have to say anything, we were both exhausted and a chat was nothing that either of us needed.

I frowned slightly, but didn't move from my position. I was too calm and too lazy to do anything that involved moving. "It was just thunder. Pretty far away, too, we should be fine."

"Are you sure?" she asked in return, although she didn't sound particularly worried.

"Am I ever wrong?" I challenged.

"Frequently."

There was another beat of silence before I heard her shift. Her fingers tapped against the bag, and even with my eyes closed I could tell she was fidgeting. She only did that when she was worried about something, or that something was nagging her. "Something on your mind?" I opened my eyes, blinking at the graying sky before looking at her.

She looked at the sky herself, once, before nodding, taking the last bite of her peanut butter and honey sandwich. Then, she wiped her mouth, ridding herself of any crumbs, and asking, "What is this I hear about you getting a boyfriend?"

The answer she gave me was certainly one I didn't expect, and I could only blink as I stared at her for a few moments. Then I groaned, leaning forward into a more stable, balanced position, and dropped my face in my hands. "You heard about that?" There was no boyfriend to even speak of. I may have had a bit of experience with some guys, but all of the "boyfriends" I had were idiots, just wanting to get into my pants. None lasted more than a month, and I never really, actually liked any of them anyway.

"Of course I heard about it, it's my job to hear about things like that… so what's going on with Danny? Are you dating or not?"

I stared at her in disgust for a moment, and she cracked a smile at me before I answered. "No. He wants to, and he told everyone that we are, but no. No, no, no. He's not my type."

"Of course," she replied, her tone so amused it made me want to hit her. "And what is your type?"

"Why? Are you interested?"

"Why would I date someone as ugly as you?"

Elena and I stared at each other for a long moment, then broke out laughing, both of our moods improving as we giggled. "I don't know, do I have to have a type? Guys are guys, I'd be lucky to find one who's good looking, smart, and willing to date me."

She simply rolled her eyes at me, but I knew she understood. Elena, though never would she admit it, was secretly hoping for the same thing. She opened her mouth to say something, but thunder boomed above us, so loudly that even I jumped. I frowned, then, my eyebrows creasing as my mind raced. There was no possible way the thunder could have travelled that quickly, it was miles off only minutes before. The wind picked up, my hair lifting into the air a bit, and I stood up. "It's not going to rain," I told her. "I'll be right back, I need to pee."

Elena didn't look convinced, but she knew better than to argue with me when I told her to stay put. After too many times of me wandering off and her leaving the spot where I left her, it made me very cautions on the matter. I stretched my body out to the point where I heard something crack. Satisfied, I tossed my phone to the ground next to her, something I always did. There wasn't a real reason, perhaps I was convinced I would get it stolen while around other people, or perhaps I trusted her with it. But most of the time, I just didn't feel like carrying it.

I quickly walked inside, pushing through and shoving aside people while making my way through the main hallway. It was stuffed with students who were talking, eating, and some even fighting. I nearly tripped over some idiot lying on the floor, but caught myself on another person's shoulder. I muttered a small apology before ducking into the girls' bathroom. Of course there was a line, but when was there not?

It was ages before I was actually in a stall and a few more before I was back through the crowd, opening the heavy glass door to the field outside. Students weren't actually allowed on the track, but in our situation, "yolo" would have been an appropriate term. We sneaked through the first time, and I could most certainly do it again if it weren't for a large hand clasping itself on my shoulder. My face fell, and I tried my hardest not to grimace as I turned around, seeing who it was that caught me. Once I saw that it was Mr. Brunner, however, my distaste instantly turned into relief.

Mr. Brunner was my absolute favorite teacher. He taught world history, but made sure it was never boring, with games and trivia and dirty jokes. No one ever fell asleep in class, even me, who was considered stupid by anyone who could read. He liked me, though, which was why I liked him the most. Respect is a mutual thing, and if I was mistreated, then I was going to act the same way. I always found it odd that he kept his class at a very slow pace, mainly the pace that I could keep up with. He liked Greek and Roman stuff, I noticed, but I never minded. I liked the ancient myths more than anything else.

The wind from the open door shifted, and I caught his scent of cinnamon and tweed. His appearance always reminded me of the 1960's, with his dark hair and homey sweaters and cardigans. "Miss Reynolds," he said, making eye contact with me, not that I would back down from a fight, even one as minor as a staring contest. His eyes darted from mine, to the door, to mine again. "You are well aware that you are not permitted to leave the building, yes?"

I shrugged at him, knowing better then to put up the innocent façade in front of him. He always saw right through it, and I always felt bad when I lied to him. "I know, but Elena and I wanted to sit somewhere without so many people."

He glanced up at the sky, an eyebrow raised, "In this weather?"

Giving him a "what do you want me to even say" look, I shrugged again, unsure of what to say. "I don't really mind, it's very dark out. I like that, you know, and Elena loves storms." Mr. Brunner just stared at me, and I felt like I was disappointing him somehow, so I said quickly, "I'm sorry, sir, we can move back inside if you want us to, but I just thought that it's ridiculous that all of us have to be crammed in here, and I'm especially claustrophobic-"

Mr. Brunner held up his hand, his eyes softening as I stopped speaking. "That isn't necessary, my dear. I'll let this slide… if you get an A on your test today." He was serious, but he gave me a small smile to alert me that I wasn't in any real trouble.

If it were any other subject, I would have grabbed Elena and went back inside. School was never my strong suit, though that didn't mean I wasn't smart. If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid. However, Mr. Brunner's class wasn't just any class, it was history. "Of course, how could I not? This is ancient Rome we're talking about, my favorite subject."

He looked at me, his gaze almost a bit worried about me, at my mental state. What was wrong with ancient Rome? It had rules, and gladiators, and gods, and drama… the look he gave me made me slightly unnerved, but I ignored it due to the fact that I could hear, just faintly, a very terrified scream. My eyes widened in horror, because that scream was something I recognized from when we were children, lost in the woods and frightened. However, this time it was clear, not blurred by memories.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I slammed into the glass door, breaking out into a quick sprint towards the track once I was outside. I didn't even care about Mr. Brunner, or the rules, or any of the other kids, because they deemed themselves unimportant once I knew I was needed. A person would only scream like that if they were really, truly scared. It scared me thinking about what kind of trouble she was in- why was I stupid enough to leave her alone? It wasn't like we went to a good school or anything, people were dangerous from all around.

When I usually ran on the track during school, I was incredibly slow, tripping over everything in my way and possibly even the air itself. But it was different then, Elena in trouble made my mind race, my body somehow acting on its own accord and moving in a manner I've never seen before. I wouldn't feel the ache in my muscles until days later, or perhaps that was from the ache of other wounds. Either way, I felt that it was almost my job to protect her. The darkness I felt was something that was familiar to me, even if I didn't know where it was from.

The scene I arrived at was something of chaos. Elena was running, swerving side to side as she was darting from the talons of some bat-creature. I froze in my spot, squinting at it. Surely it had to be a fake? But the blood on her arm and face certainly wasn't, and a memory of something flashed in my head. A Fury, Mr. Brunner had taught us about those… it was a Fury and it looked absolutely seething.

My head whipped around, searching for something to hit the thing with. I didn't know what the exact protocol was, for killing a Fury, but I saw something strange and I had the urge to hit it with a stick. I found one of the small, thin, weak trees in the middle of the track and tugged on a branch, pulling rather hardly for it to come off. It snapped, but I fell backwards, swearing. My body was filled with adrenaline, and I was able to get up and brush it off as if it were nothing.

Raindrops fell heavily on my face as I ran at the monster from behind, swinging the stick at it as if it were a racket or a baseball bat. The sturdy tree branch broke in half as if it were a twig, but the vibrations from the break reverberating into my hand, causing me to drop the thing and swear again. I swore a lot after that, much more than I really should have.

Elena was on the ground, panting and bleeding from the claw marks on her body. They weren't terribly deep, but her light eyes widened as she looked at me. I turned too slowly, and the monster scraped its thick, black thorns for claws across my face. I screamed at the pain, it being something I really was not used to. I could barely even handle a paper cut, but that? I lifted my hand to my face, only to be met with the warm wetness of my own, crimson blood.

My head snapped up at its low chuckle, the Fury landing on its so-called feet. Fear began to replace the adrenaline, the awful feeling sinking into my bones as the monster's red eyes stared at me, as if it were hungry and wanted me. The look was absolutely soul-wrenching, but I wasn't surprised. I began to back up, but with every backwards step I took, it stalked forward one more. "N-now, now," I cooed shakily, my voice low and out of breath. "You really wouldn't want to hurt me, would you?"

The Fury, which I was only sure was female because of the myths, stared at me as if it wanted to peel me to ribbons, and examine the inside of me. Look at every muscle, bone, and cell, and then sow me to back together like something Frankenstein would do. It moved again, but this time I put my arms up in front of my face, protecting then sensitive flesh from the talons that sank into the meaty skin of my arm. There was a distant scream that didn't belong to me, for I screamed something else, my mouth forming the words of forceful pleas. "Stop! Stop it! Stop!"

The last plea was more of an order, an order that had so much power and authority behind it that it had me thinking that it was someone else who had said it. The Fury looked startled, if I could even call it that. I peered down at the wounds on my arms, letting out a small gag of disgust, forcing the building bile in my throat down. The monster lifted its large wings, and I cringed back as if it would hit me again, but it only flapped them, flying off into a bunch of black smoke. The relief I felt was like I was floating into the air, as if gravity had released me from its bonds and I was free to do as I wished.

I looked to Elena, who had dirt smudged all over her pale skin, her eyes full of panic. Her messy hair was tangled, despite its short length, looking very much like the nest of a bird. Her gaze was desperate, her eyes unable to pull away from the bleeding mess that was my arm. "It's not that bad," I said meekly, quietly, careful not to look at it again myself. Blood was a tender topic for me, as were needles and major wounds.

Elena's eyebrows then knitted together, staring past me, almost as if over my shoulder. I turned, my hand covering the lacerations on my arm to prevent more of the sticky liquid to escape. My eyes caught sight of Mr. Brunner twenty feet away from us on the concrete, unable to come any closer because of his wheelchair. I saw an expression on his face that I have never seen before: confusion.

There was a quiet whisper of something under Elena's breath, but I didn't catch it for once. I did, however, catch that she pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped her screen, ringing 911. She moved a few feet away, one hand pulling her hood up over her head to prevent the rain from getting her phone wet. I heard her ask for an immediate ambulance. I wanted to faint at it all, but I didn't. Not yet.

I stumbled to my history teacher, the words spilling from my mouth as I was unable to control myself. "It was a Fury, like the ones from the ancient myths. I—it attacked us." I didn't say anything else to him, not "Oh, please help me" or "What the fuck was that?" No… just, "It's a goddamn Fury."

His smart, clever, helpful reply was, "Are you sure?"

"Is now really the time for this?" I demanded, "Yes, I'm sure! I recognized it from those lessons you gave us. It was after Elena, but I… um… hit it with a stick. It didn't like that and hit me with its claws, the rest is obvious." I was short with him, which was completely understandable, seeing as I was bleeding.

His lips formed a thin line, his body leaning to the right as to look over my shoulder at Elena, who was yelling into her phone. His gaze slid back to me, "It was never supposed to be you. I never expected you, Miss Reynolds… how long have you known Miss Westlie?"

I stared at him, my mouth falling open in the slightest of surprise. The thoughts that went through my head were scattered, but where along the same lines of wondering if I was going to bleed out because he insisted on having that damned conversation. "Since we were four," I said sourly, "and I've been by her side ever since."

"As I suspected."

Elena let out a frustrated yell, angrily tapping at her phone and shoving it in her pocket. Still panting heavily, she ran over to us, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as if to steady me. "The ambulance will be here soon, just try not to bleed, 'kay, Emilie?"

I shot her a look of annoyance, but never truly replied. She knew full well I couldn't just, "stop bleeding." My knees were weak, wobbling under the pressure of my own body, and I had to grip the handle on Mr. Brunner's wheelchair for support. There were not black dots in my vision, but more like pauses. I felt dizzy, like I couldn't feel my feet and didn't know how to keep myself upright. I never passed out before, I wondered if that was what it was like. If so, I never wanted to do it again, it was a sickening experience.

"Are you all right?" I asked her. She was, after all, the one who was attacked in the first place. She was scraped and dirty, too, but much smarter than I was when it came to the monster. She ducked, and I just charged. But it got the monster to leave and she was alive, as was I, so it was considered an achievement in my book.

She let out a strangled laugh, something that sounded forced but also like she was unable to stop herself at the same time, "Am I all right? Do I look like I'm all right?" Despite my state, I opened my mouth to answer her, but she held her hand up, beating me to it, "Don't answer that."

"Maybe you should sit down," I suggested, spitting some water out of my mouth. My hair was drenched, sticking to my back. Mr. Brunner tapped at his chair. Everything seemed so surreal, surely it was just a dream?

"Maybe you should sit down," she smartly replied, but even with the rain pounding and my head aching, I could hear the worry in her voice. It was in my tone not five minutes before. I wondered how this all could be happening, monsters didn't appear at schools and I didn't make stupid moves like that or get cut up. I could barely handle a needle, let alone freak accident wounds.

I could faintly hear the sound of sirens in the distance, slowly getting louder and louder. I heard Elena say my name in surprise, her tone loud and startling as she knelt behind me. I collapsed against her, a large sigh escaping my lips as I let my eyes flutter closed. Just a minute of rest, just before the ambulance got there. Maybe I would even wake up.

-xxx-

I didn't realize it then, but I should have been more disoriented when I woke up. Instead, I squinted my eyes, my eyelids heavy as the white light of the hospital room flooded into them. I sat up in my bed, noticing the prickling of pain in my arm, but didn't dwell too much on it. I knew there was an IV in my arm, and I tried very hard to ignore it. The drugs were all that was keeping the pain at bay.

The sound of the heart monitor wasn't as loud as it would have been if I wasn't on medication. My eyes found the clock, and it said three, but from the lack of sunlight coming from behind the blinds in front of the window, I figured it was still pretty early. Far too early for the lights to be on.

The room itself was rather bland, but expensive in hospital room standards. I wondered how we could afford it, but figured it was some sort of insurance thing. My aunt and I weren't exactly rich, but I got nice things all the time, so I didn't complain. I never complained.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice scratchy. I resisted the urge to cough and grabbed the water bottle on the table beside my bed. I tried to twist the top open, but the meds had made me too weak, I wasn't able to open it.

There was a slight rustling coming from the bathroom, then a flush and the sound of running water hitting the sink. It was another minute before the door opened, my Aunt Sammy entering the room. She was a middle-aged woman, my mother's older sister. She had long brown hair with streaks of grey running down the sides. She didn't believe in hair-dyes, and that was perfectly okay, it gave her a sort of trusting aura. She was wearing one of those seventies headbands with a feather stuck to it, and her skin was a nice tan, the only one in the family who even had the slightest bit of color to her.

She made her way over to me, her flip-flops making noises against the tile. Her skirt was ankle-long, made from jeans just like her jacket, and she looked very, very worried. Her fingers felt cool against my forehead, and she murmured, "Oh, Emy, dear. You're burning up."

Emy was the nickname she came up for me when I was just a baby, and it's stuck ever since. I never really mind, it wasn't anything too ridiculous or embarrassing, not that I had anyone she could really embarrass me in front of. Elena's been used to it for years just like I have. She even had her own nickname, as well.

Quieter, she muttered, "I don't think it will… let's just try it." I frowned in confusion, watching with slightly widened eyes as she grabbed her purse from under my bed, a silver canteen being pulled from it. She handed it to me, and I took it with weak fingers.

"I'm just fine with water—" I tried to say, but she just unscrewed the top and nodded to me. I sighed, knowing it was probably one of her disgusting herb drinks, but took a gulp just to humor her.

It was remarkable.

She grabbed it before I could drink anymore, but even from the sip I had, it was the best thing I could have ever tasted. It was warm and slick when it went down my throat, the taste like brownies and vanilla ice cream and just sugar. It stopped any chills I had, didn't realize I had until that point, and warmed me to my very core.

"How do you feel now?"

"Better," I said, flexing my fingers, "but only by a little. What is that stuff? It's great."

"Nectar," she said quietly, slumping down in the chair next to my bed. She placed it carefully in her purse, and you would have thought it was a baby or a small kitten, with the amount of caution she used.

"What, like from flowers?"

"No, no," she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "it's something your father drinks. He's the one who sent it, after all."

"My father?" I asked, startled. I tried to sit up straighter, but her hand pushed me down gently, falling back into the slightly inclined bed. He was never something we talked about, it just… I knew nothing about him. At all. I actually assumed he was dead.

Aunt Sammy shook her head, not disclosing any more information. "Shh," she told me, "go back to sleep. You need your rest."

I didn't want to sleep, I wanted answers, but I didn't have a choice. With her purse in hand, she exited the room, turning off the lights as she went. I tapped my fingers against the inside of my thigh, and with the new rush of drugs that entered my system- I guess it was automated or something- I fell asleep, just like she wanted.

-xxx-

When I woke up next, it was very early in the morning. Light poured in from the window, the blinds now open. I frowned, but didn't mind too much. One the table in the far corner, there were two vases that were brought to my attention by the sunlight reflecting off of them. One was small, with colorful flowers and a smiley face balloon sticking out of it. Half assed. Most likely from school. But it was a nice sentiment.

The second vase was much different. The glass was dark red, and the flowers were roses, red and black, which was more than odd. My arm was in a cast, I didn't die. I desperately wanted to get up and peek at them, see if there was a card, but there was still a needle in my arm and I didn't want to do anything bad to it.

The thing encasing my arm was a bright blue. Not the color I would have chosen, but I didn't mind all too much. I was glad it wasn't in a sling, it would have driven me mad. I've always been jittery, restraint would end up killing me somehow.

There was a squeak, the hospital door being opened, and in came Elena. She had a few scratches and those small bandage things on her forehead, but other than that, she was fine. "See?" she asked someone on the outside, her tone slightly angry. "She's awake." I noticed she retouched her highlights. When did she even find the time?

I recognized the voices outside of the room, Aunt Sammy and Elena's mother, and she closed the door before I could catch any clear words. "What's wrong with you?" I asked, though my tone wasn't harsh. I didn't get why she would be this upset, we were both fine.

"There's something I have to tell you," she said lowly, pulling up a stool next to my bed and perching herself on it. "The monster that attacked us… it was real."

"Real?" I echoed, looking at her as if she were insane, "There's no possible way-"

"It just is, okay?" she interrupted, her pitch higher than usual. "I talked to Mr. Brunner, and my mom. They couldn't tell me more than that, other than… you need to get out of here, Emilie. Your Aunt Sammy will try to keep you here as long as possible, because she loves you, but it isn't safe. You have to talk to your mom."

"Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, holding up a hand and squeezing my eyes shut. "What are you even saying? That I have to leave here? It's a hospital, 'Lena, that isn't going to happen."

She tossed me a bag. It had a bunch of my stuff in it, but only the necessities, I noticed, as if… "Am I running away?"

"No… we're running away." She held up a thin, ivory business card between her fingers. "Before he left, Mr. Brunner gave me this. We have to go, Emilie, or else we're going to be killed. You saw what that thing did to your arm, what do you think it'll do to your intestines? Our parents don't understand… we have to go, but you need answers first."

I swallowed, not saying anything for a moment. The whole idea was insane, but Elena was the rational one, and I trusted her more than anything. If she said we needed to do this… I believed her. "All right… but take care of this," I said, holding out my arm to her. I turned my head away, closing my eyes as she took the needle out of me. There was no way I was going to do it myself.

When she said it was out and out of sight, I took the bag she tossed on my lap between my fingers, rushing to the bathroom. The hospital gown was beginning to give me a slight chill, I was so used to skinny jeans and sweatshirts.

I chose something simple, nothing that would draw any attention. My heart was pounding, and I had to take deep breaths to calm myself, and even that barely worked. I was nervous, and I've done some pretty messed up shit in my life.

Outside, Elena told her mom and my aunt to go get some coffee or something, we were just going to have some girl time. It was another five minutes before we were out the door, a sticky note on my hospital bed with the short words of, "I'm sorry," scribbled on it.

We made our way to the back entrance, and though I was sure we were going to be caught, the lights flickered and the few nurses that were passing us ignored us completely, almost as though they couldn't even see Elena and I. When we left the hospital, we grabbed a cab to my apartment and took my car. It was a black Mercedes and probably cost more than the apartment itself, but my aunt said she won it in a contest or something, and if I didn't appreciate it she would give it back. I certainly appreciated it.

"I'll drive—" she began to say, but I only shook my head and took my keys from her.

"There's no way I'm letting you. It's just a cast, I'll do just fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

-xxx-

I pulled up into the parking lot of the hospital. I didn't like calling it for what it was, insane asylum sounded too much like a psycho murderer type thing. It was a tall white building, nothing too out of the ordinary. It was sanitary, and probably safe, it being one of the best in the world, but it still freaked me out. I just had the feeling that more things happened between the walls than what was told.

There was security, as there always was. It was different to a regular hospital, there couldn't be any risks, because the patients weren't in their right minds. It was a lot like an airport, actually, I couldn't have any metal or things like that. My bag was full of clothes and toothbrushes and, thank God, eyeliner.

I knew where her room was without asking, even though I hardly ever visited her. It was hard to visit, it was hard to see her like this even though this was all I could really remember of her. It's not the type of thing you envision when you think of your mother, but this was my life and I had to deal with it.

To me, her room was the scariest in all of the building. It wasn't any different than any of the other patients' rooms, except for the drawings taped all over the walls of the room. They were all done in crayon, she couldn't be trusted with a pencil, she may stab her eye out. The drawings were mostly composed of things I didn't recognize, but every once in a while I would recognize a monster, like from when we studied ancient Greece in world history.

Ghosts didn't scare me, they never have, movies like The Exorcist have always seemed silly, but they scare my mother. Terribly. I remember some things about her, before she went completely crazy, I was still very little and the memories are hazy, but I remember very clearly the wince she would get when a ghost was mentioned on Halloween. I didn't think anything of it then, nobody did. It was completely unexpected what happened to her.

I took a deep breath and opened the door, slipping in with ease. She was dressed in white, her blonde hair cropped short. It was very obvious my dark locks didn't come from her. She was pale, and she was so thin, I wondered if they were feeding her enough.

She was singing a lullaby to herself in some language that seemed familiar, but I didn't think too much on the words. I let my beg fall off of my shoulder and drop to the floor, the noise not as loud as it would have been if it wasn't filled with soft clothing. The noise still got her attention, however, which was the point.

"Emilie!" she exclaimed, jumping from her bed and pulling me into a hug. She was very graceful, even in her state, but also very short, like a pixie. Her voice was very high-pitched, as mine was, only my voice was a few tones lower, so I didn't sound like a mouse. I still annoyed people, however, once or twice I would catch a comment from one of my teachers or classmates.

"Hey, Mom," I said, gently pushing her down onto her bed. She scuttled back, sitting in the center, crossing her legs. Her hands folded in her lap, and she looked at me with wide, trusting eyes. I swallowed, sitting on the edge and stared at the ground, letting out a long sigh. I had no idea how to start.

"What's the matter?" she asked, much like a small child would to a stressed parent. That was what she seemed to be, a small child, when it should have been the opposite.

I decided to be quick about it. A feeling of unease and slight disgust rushed through me, and it was risky enough being there after I ran away from the hospital. "I was attacked by a monster," I blurted out, my words quick, yet understandable.

There was a tense beat of silence, then the bed shook as she uncrossed her legs, standing on her knees as she hovered over me. Her hand was hesitant, but then firmly gripped my shoulder. Her tone and expression was deathly serious, and it unnerved me how quickly her entire being had changed.

"Tell me everything."

I gave her a swift summary, leaving out unimportant details like my worry for Elena, or how I had broken out of the hospital and planned on running away. She stared at me the whole time, listening, not blinking, and I shifted away from her slightly half way through. She didn't notice.

When I finished, she stood up, "What did it look like?" I blinked and looked up at her, letting a vague description slip from my lips. She acted as though this were completely normal. I know she was insane, but, still, it didn't…

Her fingertips ran across the wall, silent except for the little flips the paper made when she passed by them. It took a few moments of searching, but she plucked a piece of paper off of the wall, the tape ripping the top of it slightly. She wrinkled her nose in distaste, but handed it to me nonetheless.

It was the exact same monster.

I let the paper fall to the bed, a breath escaping my lips as I squeezed my eyes shut. "Okay, just, hang on. What is this? How is this possible? What is going on?"

Her hand was on my shoulder again, sliding up my neck and curling a stray strand of my hair. "Honey," she said lightly, almost distracted, "your father is a Greek god."

My eyes shot open, and I could only gape at her, not unlike a large fish. "I- what are you- a Greek what?"

"God," was her answer, very causal and nonchalant. I hated her for it.

I stood up swiftly, out of her grip despite the almost-painful tug on my hair. "That's bullshit. I can't believe I let Elena talk me into seeing you," I muttered, picking my bag off of the floor and slipping the strap onto my shoulder.

"It makes sense!" she said from behind me. "He told me himself, you know. It would explain the monsters coming after you, and the power you had over it, the Fury. Your story makes you seem like a charmspeaker, but I know tha-"

"That's enough, Mom!" I bellowed, grabbing the door handle. "I've heard enough. I don't want to listen to your insane banter anymore." I saw a flash of hurt pass through her eyes, but I was already running out the door.

I wasn't supposed to run through the hospital, it was a general rule, but it wasn't like I was going to ever go back. I hated myself for beginning to cry, I felt the heat pool behind my cheeks, tears blurring my vision. I tried wiping them away with my sleeve, but then I didn't see where I was going and tripped over a stray wheelchair in the middle of the lobby-like area.

I cursed under my breath, looking up to see several people staring at me. There were four of them, all on one of the couches, and three of them were very, very old women. So old they were practically ancient. Their silver hair was tied into tight buns behind their heads, and they were knitting some sort of large pair of bright fuchsia socks.

I was still on the ground, almost like I was being held down by their gazes, although the one I locked eyes with wasn't an old woman. It was a man. He couldn't be older than twenty-five, dark black curls, fair skin, lean build. He was wearing a dark purple t-shirt and zebra skinny jeans. It didn't match, but he was very handsome in it, almost as if he were some sort of celebrity. His eyes were bright blue, but for a second they flashed, turning purple when they were shadowed.

The three women surrounding him looked like they were displeased, but he didn't seem to mind, he was grinning a bit sadistically, obviously enjoying himself, a diet coke in hand. There were a few people, patients perhaps, which surrounded them, almost as though they all knew each other. But his amusement faded when one of the women took out a large pair of golden scissors from their basket. I felt chilled to the bone, but I, for the life of me, couldn't get up.

The man with the crazy hair and purple eyes turned his head from me, murmuring something to the women. I didn't hear what he was saying, but by the sour looks on their faces, I knew it couldn't be good.

The woman on the far end shushed him, the scissors about to snip at the piece of yarn that I didn't notice had been extended between the other's fingers.

I didn't know why I was so afraid, why my bones suddenly felt achy and I felt too terrified to move, but I knew that I was helpless in front of the three old women with wrinkly skin and dark eyes. A whisper drifted through the air, the room suddenly going ice-cold, like how my hands felt against the tiled floor. They were already shaking, but scissors were put away, three gazes sliding back to me. Four, if you counted him, but he wasn't particularly scary at that point.

The man stared at me for a moment, and I didn't move until he whispered very harshly, "Run!"

I certainly didn't have to be told twice. I scrambled to my feet and was out the door faster than I could even count. The warmth and humidity of the air was lovely on my chilled skin, and I slipped into the driver's seat of my car. Elena looked up at me, halfway through flipping to the next page of a magazine. "So how did it go?"

I ignored her question and asked one of my own, "Where's the address you wanted to go to?"

"Erm…" she shifted, digging through her purse before pulling out an ivory-colored card. "You know where that strawberry farm is? It's by there, it's on a hill or something… it's a camp, apparently."

"A camp?" I asked, not looking at her though I wanted to. We were a bit old for summer camps.

"Yeah, Camp Half-Blood."