Chapter 1: An Angel from Hell

Warning: Read the Rating, this story WILL take a turn for "M" chapters in the future, and its slash, as in male/male, so you've been warned people.

AN: PEOPLE OF FANFICTION! I had to re-post this, and delete the other one, because I made too many mistakes, and I wasn't satisfied with the chapters, and I accidentally deleted the story and, and, and…*passes out* SO! If you want your reviews to be heard, you're going to have to re-review O.0. Sorry about the inconvenience!

This story was inspired by the story "Daddy Hades" by ncalkins, some similarities my occur XP. This chapter doesn't have much…nope, any dialogue; it mostly just explains how things are going to be with this story. BTW, this is my first….second…posted story! ^_^

Percy ran down the dark alleys of Los Angeles California, and stopped for a rest. He sat on the cold cement next to a dumpster, and tried to get his breathing under control. He had just fought off a monster, a particularly hideous one, and he was near passing out of fear and exhaustion. It was more than most six year olds can handle. Why was he alone, at the mercy of monsters, you might ask?

See, Percy wasn't any ordinary six year old. He was a demigod, which meant monsters were waiting around every corner for him. His mom was Sally Jackson, and she was now dead, murdered in cold blood by her husband, Percy's stepdad. He ran away when he saw her body lying in the hallway, bloody and lifeless, and dead in their apartment in Bakersfield. Gabe Ugliano, the man who had killed her, had blood on his hands, and on the baseball bat next to him, and was lying on the couch, passed out.

Now, Percy was alone in the streets of Los Angeles, homeless, filthy beyond recognition, and scared. Indeed, he had run all the way from Bakersfield to Los Angeles in three weeks. He wouldn't have made it if not for the pretty women and girls who often came out of the trees to feed him, clean him, hide him, and tend to his wounds.

When he said, came out of the trees, he meant it literally. They melted from the trees themselves, and sometimes pulled him up into the safety of their highest branches, protecting him until the monsters had gone away. They fed him by plucking the apples, berries, tomatoes, carrots, and other fruits and other vegetables and fruits from their individual branches and plants. They washed him in the nearby rivers or parts of ocean. All they would need to do was sing, Ancient Greek songs Percy somehow understood, and the scratches and bruises would close and fade from his skin.

But now, there were no trees, bushes, flowers, or even blades of grass to be found. There were no lovely, caring, green-eyed women, only concrete pavement, black tar, and artificial stone. He was alone, and he was in danger. It was nearing sunset, the nightmarish creature would be back soon, and he would be as good as dead.

He was dressed in camouflage pants, sneakers with no socks, and a ratty, torn, stained grey shirt. He carried a baseball bat with him, which he used to kill monsters with, his weapon of choice for that moment. It was the weapon used to beat the life out of his beautiful mother, and now he was beating the life out of anything that tried to hurt him.

He was cold, tired, hungry, lonely, and scared of the dark. He was cold, tired, hungry, lonely, and scared of the dark, but he had courage. He had courage, but he was a little boy, a child, and his body could only take so much more…..

He knew couldn't fight much longer.

Meanwhile…..

Hecate wasn't an evil deity, at least not entirely. She was as good as she was evil, and right now, she was wandering the streets of Los Angeles with her beloved hounds.

She was the goddess of magic, crossroads, hounds, darkness, and the moon, like Artemis. She was the Queen of witches and an underworld goddess. She was the Mother, Maiden and Crone, the triple goddess. Her home was in the underworld, but at night she wandered the earth with her dogs, observing as she went.

She sensed a power in a nearby alley, something…stronger than a human, but not a monster or another creature….it was a half-blood, she decided. She heard a whimper… a ghoulish laugh…a scream next. Her motherly side took over and she hurried to see what was going on.

A Lamia, a vampiric demon that preys on children, was lurking over a child. He looked like life had beaten him down pretty hard, and he looked physically beaten too. He looked afraid and hopeless, but brave nonetheless. He was ready to face death.

So young…so much potential, Hecate thought, and thrust out her hand. Before the demon could turn, it exploded into dust. In a daze, Percy thought it must have been an angel that saved him from the monsters, only an angel would protect him…only an angel would be so kind, and radiate such power.

Percy only caught a glimpse of his savior; a middle aged woman, beautiful, with brown-grey hair, fair skin, brown eyes, a motherly smile in a purple cloak. She held a torch lit with purple fire, and behind her, several bloodhounds flanked her. Then she was engulfed in a column of blue flames, and was no more.

Two weeks later….

Percy sat at the banks of a pond, next to a black haired girl, about the age of fourteen. She sang a song about someone named Apollo as she washed his cuts clean. The bruises melted away as the water washed over him, the cuts closed, and he felt better in the coolness of the river.

The women and girls, the nature spirits as Percy thought them to be, were sort of mysterious, they didn't really say much, except singing and murmuring comforting words to Percy if he cried, or told him funny stories to cheer him up. They also seemed to know about him, and he would see them sticking their heads out of the trees as he walked by, keeping an eye on him. He figured they must talk to each other.

That night…

He gazed at the stars from his bed of leaves and grass (which were made comfortable for him by the nature spirits) and snuggled closer to the sleeping girl next to him. His eyelids grew heavy, and a single tear slid down his cheek as he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

He didn't notice the man in the shadows, watching him. It was indeed, Hades. Lord of the Underworld, God of the Dead, and ex-Olympian. It stirred something inside of him, a long forgotten emotion, and one he hadn't felt in hundreds of years. He couldn't place it correctly though.

He sighed, and nodded to a dryad, who bowed to him as she passed by. He couldn't leave the boy…he couldn't, but he had to. This would mean trouble with Zeus…and he needed to prepare for the worst.

He took a last glance at the sleeping form of Percy Jackson, and sighed again. He waved a hand, and a shimmering ball of dark energy passed into the boy. Let them know Lord Hades was here, he thought. He pulled on his helm, his symbol of power, and shimmered out of the world of the living.