Disclaimer: I don't own PJO, HoO, or ToA, or any of those other works.

22. Impend

Percy raised his mug. "Congratulations on the fancy new robes."

Jason and Reyna, who sat across from him on the balcony of the principia, followed his lead and toasted. Both were wearing their new outfits. The purple of their cloaks worked well with the near-reflective gold of their armor. Several medals decorated both Jason and Reyna's chests, though more were on Jason.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Percy almost grimaced at the bitterness. He didn't like coffee. Pushing the cup away, he steepled his fingers and leaned forward. It had been three days since Jason and Reyna were elected to be the new praetors. In that time, Percy hadn't found the time to speak with them. They'd been busy. Very busy. No doubt, some of that was because Percy himself had advised on courses of action for the future.

But those meetings had been some weeks back already. He hadn't wanted to give them too much to think about. Sure, overburdening them might have worked in getting them to ask for more advice, but he had other things in the works.

"So, have you two decided on what you want to do?" Percy asked. He kept his eyes on them and noticed when they stole a glance at one another. Below him, through the balcony's slotted railing, he saw several people stop and wave. The three of them waved back.

"We've talked about it," Reyna said. She was tapping one of her fingers on the arm of her chair.

Percy smiled. "And?"

"You make good arguments," Jason conceded. He cleared his throat and looked at New Rome, the city practically glittering in the sun. "We can't afford dissent right now. However you look at it, though, we're gonna get it. But this will let us act faster. Hopefully."

"That's the point, right?" Percy asked. "Besides, once the war ends, the Senate can have their say back. For the time being, we can't have your decisions vetoed."

Reyna sighed, her finger moving faster now. "But you have to understand there's gonna be backlash. Imagine what Octavian would say about this. Michael? Even Victor and Hank might not see it our way. And they're all in the legion. The civilian senators won't like it."

"All of the senators from New Rome are former soldiers of the legion. They'll sympathize, I'm sure. Most people will. Victor and Hank will go along with it if we get a majority. Michael's loyal to Rome. He might have doubts, but we can explain the benefits." Percy paused. He leaned back in his chair and kicked one leg over the other. "As for Octavian… just let me worry about him. He owes me a favor, after all."

Without waiting for a response this time, he reached down, taking a folder from below his chair and presenting it to them. He rested it on the table.

Jason grabbed the folder. Reyna moved closer to him when he flipped the first tab open.

Percy watched as they read the proposal he'd drafted. It wasn't very long, only three pages. He hadn't felt like going too far into his pet-project and bringing them more than what was strictly necessary.

"Well," Jason looked at Reyna, putting the papers down. "That was… unexpected."

"How long have you planned on pitching this to us?" asked Reyna.

Percy took a second to think. "Not too long."

"And you think this is really a necessity?" Jason asked. He was leaning forward in his chair, ready to hear what Percy had to say. There was an undeniable thirst for answers in them—in his expression.

"Honestly? No. But I do think it's a step up from what we have."

"Do you think they'll be up for the challenge?"

"No. Not all of them. Apart from a few I'll choose, there're others I have in mind too. Frank, Vicky, Noel, Naomi."

Reyna frowned. "The traitors? Why them? What could they offer you that someone with a good head on their shoulders and years of fighting experience can't?"

Percy fired his own stare back at her. To his pleasure—and odd disappointment—she didn't so much as move a muscle. Her gaze hadn't faltered. "A lot. I know them. They'll be better for me to… train as rigorously as I need. I can promise improvement in them. Just give me a month."

"Vicky shouldn't even have been allowed back on active duty," Jason muttered. "She's just monster fodder. Can't use a shield and sword at the same time. Can't brace a shield wall. We should just dismiss her from service."

"No."

Both praetors looked at Percy. Reyna asked, "And why shouldn't we? She's a liability. And with what you're planning, she's no good for you. The best of the best; that's what we need, right?"

"She's insurance," Percy corrected. "If we let her go now, it only hurts our long-term plans. We need to look the part. Think of her as a poster-girl. Even the crippled are serving, so the able-bodied should do the same. Maybe it'll make us look heartless, but as long as she stays happy and talks good about the job to a few people, I think it's for the best."

Neither Jason or Reyna said anything at that. They contemplated, faces scrunched and eyes far away. The rumble of carts on the road and the clanging of metal pounding against metal still resounded through their square of the encampment. So too, was it easy to hear the idle conversations that may have been just a bit too loud to be considered respectful.

"Could you give us a minute to talk it over?" Jason asked suddenly.

Percy nodded and wove his fingers together. There was an odd hesitation between him and his praetors. Nobody had taken to stand, all remaining in their seats. Percy, realizing they were waiting for him to leave, pushed his chair back and stepped into the principia. He thought on the awkward situation. If it had been a week or two back, they might have actually been the ones to step out.

Again, the odd feeling of satisfaction and troubled sentiment came to him. They still deferred to him, although it felt like the time for such was slowly coming to an end. With them being praetors, it wouldn't look good if they capitulated to him often.

'At least they're coming into their own. I wonder if their relationship will change.'

The door to the balcony opened. Jason and Reyna walked in, moving to the large desk at the other end of the room. They hadn't taken very long by Percy's estimate. He found it odd but didn't let his curiosity show.

"Before we can decide anything, I think it's about time we get some things out of the way." Reyna put her hands on the desk and leaned over. Though there was diffidence in her eyes, it came backed by something harder. "Percy, you know you can talk to us, right?"

He cocked his head. "How's that?"

"We've shown we can trust one another when the chips are down," Jason said. "So, there's no reason for us to go back on that kind of thing. We're comrades. Friends."

Percy paused. "Of course."

"Is there anything you want to… talk about?" Jason asked. "Are you still in pain? Do you need something else that we can get you?"

The line of questioning wasn't expected, and while it sounded to be coming from an earnest place, Percy found himself suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation being taken out of his hands. A stab of steel in his pelvis almost made him flinch, taking the anxiety, morphing it, and leaving it as open vexation.

"What're you getting at?" he asked.

"We just want to help."

"Help? If I'd wanted, I would've come to you. Seeing that I didn't should give you a hint."

"Is it so wrong to be worried?"

"Depends on where the worry comes from. What's with the question?" Percy crossed his arms.

Reyna sighed. Her fingers couldn't seem to be still and had taken to drumming on the praetor's desk. "We've gotten some… observations from a close associate regarding you."

"Oh, yeah, that clears everything up just great."

"We—"

"I mean, it's not like we have problems on a bigger scale or anything, right? Monsters? Kamikaze mortals? Assassins on the inside? Oh, and I almost forgot Titans. Hm, yeah, these aren't really a big deal."

"We're more than capable of multi-tasking. Those other things are still on our mind, but—"

"You thought it would be better to ask nonsensical questions?"

"That isn't—"

"Look, there's nothing to be worried about. I'm doing fine. Let's go back to talking about my proposal and how—"

"Would you not change the subject!" Reyna slapped her hand on the table, rattling the jar of jelly beans. "Gods, you can be such an ass sometimes!"

"A lot of the time," Jason corrected.

"Woah, hold up—"

"Enough!" Reyna's hands curled into fists. She took a deep breath and thinned her lips. "Percy, you aren't… taking anything else except painkillers for your hand and leg, are you?"

Percy frowned, stifling his knee-jerk sarcastic reaction and analyzing the question. He wasn't sure what she was asking, though. Part of him wondered if maybe they were suspicious of him using mending. But that didn't make sense. It wouldn't give them a reason for acting how they were.

What bothered him more, though, was Reyna's harsh interruption. She'd never spoken like that to him. Even when they'd first been getting to know one another, passing the point of initial friction, she'd never blown up like that. Her responses could be cold, or distant, or half-baked, but they had never been explosive.

"What?" He stopped caring to solve the mystery himself. Better to let them feed him the answer, and maybe then he could figure what their problem was.

"I think what Reyna is getting at," Jason started, "is that we've been told that you seem to be suffering symptoms of… self-medication… with heroine."

"Heroine?" Percy parroted. He blinked when he realized he'd interpreted the word wrong. "Oh, heroin. Drugs. You—wait—you actually think I'm doing drugs?"

Affronted, he grabbed the nearest chair, turned it around, and sat. His leg bounced as he stared, incredulous at the audacity of his praetors. The gall he'd just seen and heard almost made him angry. No, he was angry already. The build had been gradual, but it was there, and still climbing.

Stress. Where once it had knotted and corded under Percy's skin, stacking itself over months, he now felt it all winding in his stomach and chest, which both felt tight and leaden. He doubted there was anything he could do to rein in the anger, meaning the best option would be just letting a bit out at a time. He didn't want to explode.

"You're kidding me, right? That's what you think? You beat around the bush, talk it out, annoy me, and this is what you have to show for it? Really? That's it? Wow, just—I'm actually in legitimate shock—where do I start?" Percy took Impetus from his mouth and stabbed it into the table. "There are so many things wrong with your line of thinking. But first, I wanna know how you came up with this."

Jason chewed on his lip, averting his eyes for a moment. "That really doesn't matter."

"It matters to me." A hot ball of metal dug in Percy's hip, making him clench the muscles in his abdomen.

"There's really no reason to get into it," Jason insisted.

Percy's fingers curled on the arm on his chair. The wood creaked under his grasp. "Defensive much?"

"I could say the same about you. That reaction was a bit over the top don't you think?"

His teeth ground together, the pressure building and constricting his throat. "I don't overreact. Word ain't in my vocabulary."

"A simple 'no' would've sufficed."

Percy scoffed. Sweat had formed near his armpits and on his back. "With you? Hilarious. Do you think I don't know how to pick my responses? I'm the one training you in reading people. I know you—both of you—enough to see how this discussion ends."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Please, enlighten us."

"You'll have no choice but to either believe me or let it drop."

"And why would we do that?"

"Because you have no foundation for suspicion," Percy snapped. His words came unbidden. They were acrimonious, instinctively meant to bring his praetors down off their soapbox. "You got zilch. And without something solid, you have no choice but to hear and believe."

Jason went to say something, but Reyna put her hand up, stopping him just before he could talk. "He's baiting us."

Percy wanted to curse. He'd been so close to finding the reason for their sudden accusation and putting an end to it. But the conversation was out of his control. As long as they held their cards close, he couldn't do much to dent their notions.

"Are you supplementing your recovery with heroin?" Reyna asked, stare more intense than he'd ever seen. "No bull. Give me a straight yes or no. I swear, I need to get some lie-detecting dogs or something around you."

"Do I look like I'd do drugs? Do you have eyes, Reyna?"

"Yes. Or. No." Reyna bit out the words like they were fire in her throat.

"No!"

"Are you sure?" She asked, more heatedly. "Anything else then?"

"By the gods—are you fucking kidding? Read my lips… No. New. Taxes."

Jason let out a frustrated noise. "Stop joking around."

"I'm telling you no!"

"We're your praetors now. Even though you're our friend, if we think something is affecting your ability to serve the legion, we won't hesitate to use our position to help you. What you went through with Pallas was horrible, but—"

"What the hell are you digging to find?"

Reyna leaned forward. "We want the truth!"

"Truth? What fucking truth are you looking for?" Percy growled. His blood boiled. "I've told you the truth! You see the truth every time we meet. So then, if that's the case, what fucking truth could you possibly want? What other truth is there? Huh?!"

Percy shot to his feet and threw the chair aside, slamming his hands on the desk. "You think you understand what I went through with Pallas? You think you have an idea of what it was like? You don't have a damn clue. Not about Pallas, not about anything."

He grabbed Impetus and put it between his teeth. "And so, even if I was shooting up, then I don't see why it would be any of your business. If you want to reject my proposal, fine. If you want to have me tested, fine! But stop—and I mean this sincerely, from the bottom of my heart—stop pretending you have any right empathizing or sympathizing with me. It's disgusting."

Face flush with anger, Percy pushed himself from the table and took several shaky breaths. The atmosphere had become painfully tense.

Humiliation and indignity soon—far too soon—spun into his brain, growing from there, making him hypersensitive to his every action. It had gone too far. He found himself aware of the heat in his chest. Fire begged him to be sparked, fanned.

When had been the last time he lost his cool in an argument? Though he found himself wondering, the answer didn't come to mind. It was a rare thing. And even worse was how he'd reacted. He preferred keeping his anger cold. At least then, he still felt like he was in control. Erupting like he had probably only served to indicate instability. Him throwing tantrums like that wouldn't do him any favors, and as much as he wished otherwise, there wasn't a good way to recover from explosive anger.

The best thing he could do was to apologize, he figured. Not really ideal, but it was a functional out. Still, he was aware that if he backed down, both Jason and Reyna would become too comfortable in their positions. They needed to be knocked down a peg. He saw it in their eyes. Somehow, they'd come up with the idea that they were better than him. Even more so than before, they thought their control extended to him. But, he knew they were wrong in their assumption. He still controlled them.

Percy licked his lips. He bent down, grabbed the chair he'd thrown off the floor, and took one more deep breath in. This one didn't shudder. His face no longer burned with shame. The anger, once as tall as the ramparts he'd created on the sandbar, had died to smoldering coals. Under his ministration, those embers were buried; hidden, out of sight, but still very much alive where it mattered.

This, he thought, was control. An idea on how to handle things soon formed.

"Sorry about that," he said. "I've gone through a lot recently."

Pulling the chair closer, he sat down and, resting his elbows on the desk, gave each of them a half-hearted glare. "But you pushed me. I don't appreciate my friends talking down to me like I'm on some kind of trial."

The solution to his problem was technically a compromise, but it would work better than any kind of simple apology. Percy watched Jason and Reyna thin their lips almost in unison, glancing away from him, providing an opening for him to continue speaking.

"The concern for me is appreciated," he went on to placate them. "It shows you both care about the legion and those close to you, which I think is a good quality in leaders. But you can't throw the weight of your position around and expect me to just… defer. I respect both of you. Don't make me change that."

Neither of them looked ashamed, but from their lack of eye contact and silence, Percy felt his point got across. Satisfied with his work, he stood, politely pushing the chair in and giving them a stiff nod. "Thanks for considering my proposal. If you don't mind, I think we should end our meeting."

He didn't wait for them to answer and dismissed himself.

[[AaMT]]

Percy was nearing the barracks when he heard the first beep and click. What followed was another, then another. He looked to the left and saw Abigail there, holding a camera in both hands, tracking his movements.

"Strut it, baby!" She called, a slight lisp to her somewhat deeper voice. "Yes, work it, live it, love it! Your legs stretch for miles! Mhm, oh I love that look you're giving me. Yeah, walk this way. Oh, darling, you're gonna make a fortune on the runway. I'll call this shoot, the 'Percy Jackson Summer Collection.'

She squealed as he got closer. "O-o-o! I love that fierce glare. Give me more!"

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, now standing directly in front of her. Even so, she hadn't moved the camera from her face, still clicking and capturing photos from two feet away.

"Making you famous, darling," she said, still playing her character. "O.M.G. Your eyes are lovely. And that jawline. Mmm! A couple of small pimples, but we are teenagers, after all, so nothing to worry about. Oh, I could just eat you up you're so… handsome."

"O-kay, we're done here," Percy turned and started walking away.

Abigail caught up with him. "So how'd the meeting go?" Her voice was back to normal.

"Fine."

"Ah-ah-ah!" She wagged her finger. The camera hung from her neck by a wide strap."Don't lie to me. You look constipated."

"I bet you know all about constipated faces," he shot back.

"How'd you figure it out?! That was supposed to be a secret! Now I've gotta delete all those photos!"

Percy wrinkled his nose. "Let's change the subject."

"I like the sound of that. Let's talk about fixing up a new game of strip poker."

"This again? Why?"

Abigail threw her hands up. "Because we never got to play! I mean, you and I were fine. Those guys just wanted a way to get out."

Rolling his eyes, Percy shrugged. "Clearly your persuasion fails against Jason and Reyna when they're worried about your health. Next topic."

"Jeez, fine. So… how'd the meeting go."

"Like I said, it went fine."

This time, her a single eyebrow raised to meet his calm reply. "Really? That's interesting. Not great?"

Percy gave her a tight smile. "Oh, well, you know."

Abigail looked around. She took him by the hand and led him away from the barracks, out of the encampment. He went with her, not in the mood to try resisting. They went off the main road and took a footpath leading toward the southern fields. A small plateau rose over the sunflowers that grew in the stretch below it. They stopped there, atop the overlooking view.

Though uncomfortable with it, Percy didn't attempt to pry his hand out of hers. Instead, he waited, watching her intently. Her expression was difficult to read, especially with him only able to see her profile. He noticed, however, that she hadn't looked at him since they'd left the road behind.

"I've been thinking," she began to say, "about what happened. It's hazy. Broken. Like puzzle pieces that got mixed in with a different set. I remember falling, and how much it hurt, and how I couldn't really believe that I'd just thrown myself in front of you, or how that guy actually used a grenade."

Her hand left his when she chose to sit down, letting her legs dangle off the steep drop. "After that, well, it's mostly just a mess. I was still conscious, but barely. And I heard you."

Percy looked away.

She continued. "I heard you asking for help. Praying. I felt something, though it had been there before you started talking. It was warm, but cold too. Unnatural. I didn't want to look at you, because for a second I thought you might be crying, and I'd rather not see you do that. Too weird, I think."

"And I heard you ask your dad, and I saw your hands glowing. At that moment, I wondered how you could do it—be strong enough to swallow your anger towards him and pray for me. I just couldn't imagine you doing something like that. But… it also made me wonder about who your father is."

Abigail looked at him. "So, as thanks, I want to help you find out. Even if he doesn't claim you, we'll know, and I bet you'll be even stronger afterward."

Percy stared down at her. He wasn't sure what to say, and while he should have been touched by the sentiment, the feeling never came. Maybe if her earnest desire were directed at something else, he'd be grateful. As it was, though, all he could do was smile indulgently.

"Such a sudden change of topic. What brought that on?"

"I don't like seeing you sulk. It's boring, annoying, and it honestly makes me sulk because you aren't in a good mood. So no! No sulking around me! I'll even drop the subject completely if that's what it takes to get your mind off things."

He thinned his lips. "I don't sulk."

"You were doing it just a minute ago."

Percy scoffed. "Fine. Whatever you say. Back to your offer, what if I already knew who my father was?"

"Impossible," Abigail denied flatly. "There's no way you wouldn't have already used the power you had if that were the case. It was instinctive, wasn't it? You trying to heal me."

"So what if it was?"

She shook her head. "Instinct can only get us so far. If we don't understand the power, it'll never be fully realized in us. The best way to get to that point is knowing your godly parent."

"Fair enough," Percy said. "But what if I already knew how to use the power."

"Doubt it," she again rejected. "You'd have healed your hand and leg. Well, maybe just your leg, since those were Lady Vesta's flames you were burned by. And along those lines, you wouldn't have to use ambrosia and nectar so much when we train."

"Really? Why not?"

"Because you have no reason to not use it. Percy, you're the kind of person who likes power. You constantly look for more. That, in and of itself, is a kind of madness. You think we're oblivious to the circles under your eyes?"

He had those? Strange that he hadn't noticed in the mirror. "Off topic, but okay. Are you calling me crazy?"

"A certain kind of crazy, yeah. Camp Jupiter is full of power-hungry people, but you're starving for it. I can tell. It wasn't like that when I first met you. But now?" Abigail's eyes grew heavy. "D'ya wanna talk about it?"

Thinking about it, he realized that he actually did now. He'd been meaning to tell Jason and Reyna, giving them advanced notice of any future occurrences that may see him leaving camp. But with what had happened, going when he'd done so was for the best.

So he hadn't told anyone else about the problems he faced. Pax knew, but couldn't help. Or maybe she didn't want to. Whatever the case, Percy felt like getting it off his chest. There weren't many other people he would rather tell than Abigail, he supposed.

Percy moved, taking a seat on the ledge. "A while back, I made an oath to my Mom. I swore on whatever deity may have been listening. I broke that oath. Not only that, but I made the oath without intention to keep it."

"I left camp not too long ago, went home, found Frank. I noticed something was wrong at the front door. Turns out, my Mom's having her soul or life-force or whatever drained. Apparently, this god, Orcus, has his sights set on me."

Abigail made a disgruntled sound. "Gods… I'm sorry."

"I am too. If it weren't for me, she would be fine. It's my fault. I hate it. I hate him."

"That's why you want power?"

"I need it."

"How long does she have?"

Percy shot her an ugly glare. "Don't talk like she's already dead. I'm gonna fix this."

Abigail's eyes widened. "You can't be serious. What are you trying to do?"

He looked down at the sunflower field, gripping his bracelet tight in his good hand. "I'm going down there. To the Underworld. And I'll make sure he never bothers me again."

"No way," she breathed, "you're insane. Actually insane. You think you can just waltz into the Underworld, find Orcus, and, what, beat him up until he agrees to leave you alone? That's crazy! Do you even know where to look?"

"Fields of Punishment. That's his little slice of heaven."

"Really? That's not surprising, I guess… wait, Percy, that's not his domain, right?"

"None of the books say, but it makes sense that it would be," he said.

"Then you really can't go down there!" she insisted. "You can't fight a god in their own territory. Imagine fighting Neptune below the sea, or Jupiter on Olympus, or even Pluto in his palace."

Percy scowled. His anger was building again, but he made sure to keep it under his skin this time. "I've fought gods and Titans before. I won against Pallas."

"You had help!"

She had a good point there. Percy had only stopped one part of Pallas' total conscious. If Jason, Reyna, and Vesta hadn't won against the other, more powerful part, Percy would have died. The thought stung.

"And that's why I've been preparing."

"You'll die." She gave him a pitiful glance. "There's no question. You'll die."

"Who's side are you on?" Percy said, trying to chuckle playfully. It honestly came out more grave than he'd intended.

"I'm on Jason and Reyna's side," Abigail said. "If they have to fight more Titans, who's gonna help them if you go and get yourself killed. Don't do this."

"I can win. I'll find a way. Gods—immortals—they all have weaknesses. I can play off that."

She stared at him, mouth hanging ajar. "Are you kidding me? Sure, they've got weaknesses, but they're also about five-times stronger than any regular demigod. Not to mention their divine forms won't even let you look at 'em. Once they get all jacked up on god-roids, it'd be suicide to even consider a fight."

Percy closed his eyes. "I can't ignore this. I wish it weren't a problem, but it is. I really wish this would blow over. How would you feel if your mother was slowly having her soul taken?"

What little wind there had been ceased to blow. An unsettling pause stifled the valley, not unlike what he'd felt when he tried to heal Abigail. It was a sensation of something inexplicable.

Opening his eyes again, he looked over curiously, wanting an answer to his question. "You wouldn't care?"

She bit her bottom lip. "I would care. Don't know that it would be very much. Maybe I'd be kinda guilty, but I wouldn't risk my life to save her."

Though he wanted to respond mockingly, Percy held back the impulse, instead choosing to say, "House Delfini. Cato called it illustrious."

Abigail snorted. "Delfini can be traced back to ancient Rome, going by a different name. Mercury favored us as merchants and traders. Ours was a house he visited on occasion to have children. After Rome fell, we were recognized as one of the apostolic families in Venice. Funny thing, too, since it was one of my ancestors who helped sack Constantinople and technically doom the Fourth Crusade."

"Really?"

"Dolfin Dolfin," she affirmed with a nod.

Percy managed to chuckle, glad the conversation's tone had shifted a bit. "That was his name? Dolfin Dolfin? That's just awful."

Abigail joined him in his quiet, somewhat morbid laughter. "I know right?"

When they settled, he looked over. "I guess it's kinda weird for me to hear someone sound so callous talking about their mom."

She hummed. "Some people don't have good relationships with their parents."

"You included?"

"Good try, Jackson," she gave his arm a light swat. "But I'm not that easy."

"Then I won't press," he said. "I've never really imagined a life without someone like Mom there to be with me. And I don't plan on starting anytime soon. That's why… that's why I'm gonna save her. Orcus won't know what hit 'im."

"Nothing I say is gonna change your mind, huh?"

"'Fraid not. I'll save her."

"Now I see why Lady Vesta called you a hero," Abigail snickered. Her eyes traveled up and down his body a few times. "Heroes are all just a little bit crazy, doing what they do. But, promise you'll tell me before you head off to the Underworld. I may be able to help somehow."

Percy, skeptical of her sudden change of heart, raised an eyebrow. "Why decide to help when you seemed pretty sure I was gonna die?"

She rubbed her arms, and, growing a sheepish smile, met Percy's skepticism abashedly. "You sound so… sure. I guess I felt like maybe… you do have a chance at pulling this off. Don't get me wrong, you're still crazy—like, Grade A—but that doesn't mean your confidence isn't inspiring."

"I mean," she gestured oddly, wiggling her hands from side to side, "you gave me goosebumps. 'That's why I'm gonna save her. I'll save her.' Very cool, very noble. And so, I decided to reward your bravery. Or is it stupidity? Either way, you get a prize!"

"Really?" Percy drawled. "Do tell how I'm being rewarded, then."

"The first part is hush-hush, so I can't tell you right now," Abigail said, scooting closer to where he sat. Soon, she was less than a foot away, her shoulder brushing against his, and her right hand closing on top of his left. "The second part, though, I have no problem demonstrating."

Percy knew it was coming. He did nothing to stop Abigail as she leaned over and kissed him softly. He closed his eyes, expecting something similar to that night in the library to start, only to open them again when he felt her lips leave.

"Well, would you look at the time," she muttered, frowning down at her watch. Jaw tight, eyes narrowed, and expression pinched, Abigail rolled away from the ledge, patting her jeans clean of dirt. "Sorry, Percy. I've gotta get to New Rome."

"No problem."

"I'll make it up to you!" She had already started to walk away. "How about this weekend? Dinner at FroCia?"

FroCia was one of New Rome's best restaurants. He'd never been because the prices were astounding. Oh, he had wanted to go, since there were only good things to be heard about the service, food, and atmosphere, but there hadn't been much reason other than vain spending. Now that he was being invited, though, it sounded like a good chance to live expensively.

"Sure," he called to her, seeing that Abigail had slowed to let him speak. "Only if you pay though!"

Percy had meant it as a joke, but felt defeated when he saw a smile split Abigail's face. He did see, in a fleeting moment of hyper-attentiveness, a scrap of something pained. Being the excellent actor she was, though, not a hint of it was relayed by her cheerful voice.

"It's a date then! I'll gladly pay if you're willing to play afterward!"

And then, with those crude insinuations, she jogged away, much like she was wont to do.

[[AaMT]]

Though he should have seen it coming, Percy still felt annoyed when Jason and Reyna had told him they wouldn't be considering his personal proposal for the time. It was too bad, but not completely out of the blue. He hadn't made the most compelling argument yesterday when they'd confronted him about their unfounded concerns. They had, however, apologized to him for the heavy accusations thrown; though neither had been willing to tell him where such a senseless idea had come from.

The thought still made him simmer. There wasn't a thing he could do now, so instead he chose to let sleeping dogs lie and move onto other things. In fact, he would have been doing just that, if only his praetors hadn't invited him along to the Senate meeting they had called earlier.

He supposed it was solace enough, then, knowing he'd been given a chance to accompany them when he otherwise had no right doing so. Ironic, that he'd been seated, in cuffs, down on the stage not even a week ago. And now he looked down from the top row. He could see everybody else, while nobody else could see him.

Jason and Reyna, who'd just taken their seats, discussed something between themselves while the senators and ghosts settled. From where he was, Percy couldn't hear the idle conversations being held by those around him but figured them mundane nonetheless.

For some reason, nobody seemed quite as concerned about the Titan threat as Jason. Even Reyna, who had seen what Pallas could do first-hand, didn't strike him as suitably tense.

It took longer than Percy would have liked, but the meeting eventually started with Jason thanking everybody for their quick assembly.

"And you must all be wondering why we asked to gather today," he said. "Believe me when I say we wish this course of action is the undisputed right one, but I don't think it'd be seen so cut and dry."

Reyna picked up when she noticed Jason beginning to trail. "We don't take this lightly. That's why we've come before the Senate to legitimize our actions."

Percy felt a smirk creep onto his face. He glanced at where he knew Octavian sat.

"I don't think anybody is following you," Michael said. "What's going on?"

Jason cleared his throat. "Given what's coming, it has been brought to our attention that, compared to the Titan forces, our own is quite small. Additionally, the "reserves" are no better than a semi-trained militia. We saw this in the Labyrinthine Invasion last year. The monsters didn't get close to the city, and yet, we had able-bodied citizens guarding… what? Brick, marble, and material things? There aren't even proper weapons in the city."

He shook his head, frowning. "And while those living in New Rome deserve their earned retirement, it wouldn't do them any good if the main body of the legion was destroyed. They would be ill-equipped to handle war. I think we can all agree that the monsters would have overwhelmed us if we hadn't destroyed the entrance to the Labyrinth."

Scattered muttering met his words. Percy leaned forward on his bench, waiting to hear how his praetor would touch on the subject.

"Taking all this into account," Reyna said, barely missing a beat, "we believe we've found a rather simple solution. While at war, we cannot be separated. And so, to that end, Camp Jupiter is being placed in a state of emergency. This is non-negotiable. The Senate, until Saturn and his ilk have been dealt with, will no longer hold the same authority as the office of the praetor."

She hesitated for a moment but pushed through before anybody could start commenting. "At the risk of sounding like a tyrant, I'll say this: consolidation of power was clearly needed. We will be enacting policies that may be disfavored. After the war ends, if you wish to remove us from office, so be it. However, until then, Jason and I will do our best to make sure the Titans are defeated."

Jason moved his stony frown over the audience. "If any would protest, let them speak."

The room had gone silent. Even the Lares were unnaturally stiff. The advising senators shifted quietly, looking at each other as if to confirm their silence. Though they didn't appear comfortable giving up their power, Percy could tell they struggled to find good, solid reasons for a repeal of the decision.

Even if someone did have qualms, they had no choice but to keep quiet. Speaking out would be tantamount to questioning Reyna and Jason's integrity. And even though most of the civilians were older, few could claim to have accomplished half of what Jason and Reyna had.

"Nobody?" Jason asked, giving Octavian a not-so-subtle glance. "None at all?"

Met with nothing, he raised his eyebrows and looked at Reyna, who shrugged. He nodded slowly. "Okay. Then we can get into our plans to expand citizen conscription and prepare the valley's defenses."

Percy, relatively contented with how things panned out, blocked out the rest of the talking and reflected on everything else that solicited his attention.

A/N: This was a tough one to write. Mostly the first and last part. I've played mainly on paranoia this chapter, with all the major characters, and it really felt... odd, I suppose. I might have been too heavy-handed. Well, it's done, and all through one person's perspective, so obviously things aren't completely as they seem.

Review Response-

Malosi06: People seemed very in favor of strip poker. You're right that Paxeus sounds better. Thanks for the well-wishes, and right back atcha!

Jet: I hope you like this one too!

Superkami God: I may just be crazy enough to skip strip poker. The cinnamon roll was just to whet your appetite for what comes even later into the story.

Guest: Thanks. I've been thinking on how to make Octavian a suitable challenge for Percy. I think, as part of his development, I may have something solid to work with, though. Again, thanks for the feedback.