Percy is floating, sleeping in someplace he's never seen before. Usually it's just a demigod dream, but this- this is something different entirely. He's aware that he's dreaming, but he can't wake up. He can't control it. Its starting to freak him out a little, but at the same time he's cool with it. Totally relaxed. In no way wondering why he's here.

Then there was the darkness, penetrating the half-light of where ever he was. It came, inky black and rolling across the space, consuming everything before him. It rose like a wave above him, curling around his head and slithering over his skin like oil before it began to speak.

"Perseus," the voice purred.

He opened he mouth, gagging as the oil spilled down his throat. He could no longer speak, and it filled him.

"Settle down, child. Let me-"

The oil was curling hungrily around him, Percy wasn't so sure it was peaceful anymore. It was seeping into his skin, filling every inch of his flesh. Percy was filling up like a sponge, and he wasn't quite sure what was going on anymore. Not that he knew anything in the first place, but this was a dream.

He couldn't really think, and the voice was going all hushed, murmuring in the background. He couldn't really remember, either, was this supposed to be a special dream? Or maybe he was just daydreaming. And none of this was real. But to be honest, he couldn't really choose. The voice wanted him to pick, and he couldn't. Not really.

There was this girl, back at home, and she would be pretty smart all the time, and he was pretty dumb, and they made a good pair. Yes, and then there was this woman in his life, she was always there, at least he thought, and she was getting older now, wasn't she? And then this new man-

"That's right, Perseus," it licked his ear. "Tell me more."

Well, the new man is ok, but the old man was far worse. He smelt something bad, and always had a foul look on his face. He would have to crouch and hide away from him when he was home, and there were people, too. Many people who ignored him and hated him, and he never understood why. And strange things, stranger things than this, lurking in shadows.

And he rambled on, his thoughts like a runaway train chugging along steadily. He never really realized, not until much later, that this was not normal. That whatever happened to him was not good. It was bad, very bad, and now he was all messed up. Like downwards instead of upwards, twisted instead of straight.

All he did was blink so

xXxXxXx

"You scared me."

She was tall, with a crumbling dirt face and stony expression. Her eyes were closed, and she rose slowly from the ground.

"Why...scared?" His tongue was thick, as if he was learning to speak, the words stumbled out haltingly.

She hummed, and pebbles fell from her hair. He watched them clatter to the ground. "Maybe not scared, then," she resigned.

He blinked.

"Are you well today?" She finally asked.

"Always," he said.

She almost smiled again, she almost did that a lot. He never saw her do it around the others, though.

"Ready to drink?"

He opened his mouth, and the glass came from nowhere and the sludgy mud poured thickly into his throat. It slid down his esophagus, and he never gagged once. She did that almost smile again and let him swallow. He did.

She took the glass and churned through the ground, leading him back to his stone. He laid down quietly, and she finally opened her eyes. They were bottomless, and he was falling into them, tumbling down for ages and ages, and he couldn't breathe, and he was getting sick, and there was this terrible fear in his stomach, he couldn't do it any longer, he