Being Human

Chapter 2 - (they are.)

"Humans see what they want to see."

Percy knew that his arm must have been damaged pretty badly if it meant that these pigs were willing to give him extra water and a precious, precious square of ambrosia at the end of the session that afternoon.

He hadn't seen a piece since they confiscated it from his jeans pocket, and it took a lot of trouble for these men to get some hint of what that substance is from Percy. He thought that they would have squandered all of that in experiments by now.

He sat up, his neck straining, sore, and his left arm feeling like it was dipped in hot, molten gold.

The truth was, he couldn't even feel the worst of that pain anymore. That's probably bad, because it meant that the nerve in his left forearm had been burnt off. However, the only emotion Percy could conjure was a hint of surprise. He wasn't surprised that he'd gotten hurt; Percy was surprised that it took them three and a half months post-capture to finally cause him significant bodily harm.

He thought he might have been dead (or rescued, as he thought naively, once upon a time) by now.

All this pain from the session was for nothing, too. Percy had told them that it wouldn't work and it didn't. If he wasn't in so much pain (and trying hard to ignore it), he would have given them a snark I told you so.

Gods, this Wednesday really sucked.

They'd given him some fifteen minutes after he woke up before taking him back to the cell. His eyes were still crusted from his tears, his voice hoarse from yelling, cursing, and screaming before he finally passed out.

His arm was bandaged, but he knew that the flesh beneath was black and gooey, if some parts weren't melted off already. If he wasn't so accommodated to different kinds of wretched smells these past months, he would have gagged at the waft of burned skin and puss coming off of him.

When it heals, Percy thought idly, it'd probably leave him a pretty grotesque scar. He'd wear that one with a lot less pride than the others. It does not belong with the scars he accumulated from years of helping his friends and occasionally, saving the world.

Sam held bottles of water in his hand. He opened them for Percy, handed it over, and Percy chugged them in earnest, careful to not let a single drop go to waste. He finished two more, feeling a little more human. If this is what it takes to be hydrated, he thought, then it's worth it.

Sam gestured for Percy to lead the way back from Room 018 back to the cell. For a split second, the blond man wouldn't look at him. Percy wanted to think that it was because Sam was still trying to purge Percy's screams and agony from his memory.

But a mask of cool assurance quickly descended and whatever sympathy Sam might have felt for Percy was no longer perceivable. On the walk back, Percy observed, Sam didn't push him or jerk him around. He'd appreciated it; maybe he would have even said "thank you" in a different world.

Percy recoiled internally at the thought. In another world, he would not have entertained thanking his torturers. These humans, just as Smelly Gabe, deserved a visit from Medusa's severed head.

Sam probably just didn't want to taint his crisp white suit with Percy's blood.

Once the cuffs are exchanged for tethers, Percy slid his back down the cell's wall and sat with a sigh. His arm felt like it was on fire, fueled by a thousand Hyperions; that was good. Coupled with the itching, he knew it meant that the ambrosia square he took was doing its work on healing. He was glad that he could feel his forearm once again. Any mortal with his wound would have required an amputation.

But Percy's not a normal human, and that's what started this whole mess, isn't it? He couldn't ever take a break. What would his mom have called this. Species-ism?

"Hey," Percy heard a whisper, drawing him out of his thoughts.

Phantom was looking at him from the shadows in the cell. In the dark, it almost seemed like the other boy's eyes were glowing. It was a little eerie.

Percy decided to ignore him.

"Are you okay?" Phantom pushed on, worried. Percy supposed that he looked terrible. His arms were in bandages, but he sustained light burns all over other parts of his body, too. Looking terrible wasn't anything he wasn't already used to, though. But Phantom just had to be so nosy. "What did they do to you?"

Percy sighed. He might as well give the other boy something. He couldn't stand the pity in Phantom's eyes.

"They tried to jump start my divinity." Percy commented, dryly, voice mixed with parts of resignation and acceptance.

"...Huh?" Phantom responded, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Percy knew what he said probably didn't make any sense. If he were in a better mood, he might have felt like explaining. But knowledge isn't the currency here; it would do them little good.

He should probably just save his breath for the healing.

To his credit, Phantom didn't back off. "They electrocuted you." Phantom said, with a hint of realization behind his eyes. They were blue, Percy realized. Six weeks, and he never noticed. "Those motherfuckers tried to fry you alive."

Percy was surprised at the venom behind Phantom's voice.

"They did, I suppose." Percy said. Maybe he should have been more angry, like Phantom clearly was. But he felt tired. Sleep sounded great at the moment, even though that's all he does six days out of the week.

"We need to get out. Percy, we need to get out. They've gone too far." Phantom said, and Percy could feel the conviction behind those words. Kudos for Phantom for having his spirits intact still.

It's not like Percy was easily broken. But he's tried for months. It's been fifteen Wednesdays. Nearly four months. And Percy's tried plenty of times in the meantime. But it'd always just gotten him hurt, and in all forms and manners, there's no way of breaking out. At least he could do something while he was in Tartarus. Besides, he had Annabeth.

Here, he was alone. There's Phantom, but he's no Annabeth. And the only thing Percy wanted (needed) at the moment was Annabeth.

"Did you hear me?" Phantom sounded a little more annoyed now. "Percy?"

"Phantom-" Percy started.

"-Call me Danny-"

"-Danny," Percy said, the name tasting strange on his tongue. He hadn't known that this was his cell mate's preferred name, "we can't get out. There is no way."

"There has to. I know you're like me. You're something else, something more than just human. We can figure out something if we work together."

"No." Percy said, leaning back.

"They are killing you. They are killing the both of us. How can you sit back and do nothing?" Danny questioned, standing up and laying out his hands in exasperation.

Percy felt a hint of annoyance. That in turn, surprised him. He's feeling all kinds of things today, huh?

"Don't accuse me of doing nothing. You don't think I've tried? You have no idea of what I've already done." Percy said icily. It was a mistake, making small talk with the other boy. Phantom, no, Danny wouldn't have understood. Not yet, at least. Maybe he will in another month or two.

Percy laid down and turned to the wall on his side of the cell.

He tried to not feel too bitter, but how could he not? He saved the world again, and again, and again since he was twelve. All he ever wanted was a break.

When Percy was first thrown into the cell, he was alone. He tried breaking the cell's bars. He'd tried to attack Sam's predecessor, and the one before that. He'd tried calling upon all the water in the facility, to get it to listen to him and help. He tried to joke and buff and lie and so much more. But these efforts all failed.

The worst of it was that Percy knew he would have been a lot more successful, too, if he were willing to kill.

But he wasn't willing to. He'd promised himself that.

As far as Wednesdays go, this one was a little more interesting than the others. But that doesn't mean that it was good by any means.

Danny had not enjoyed how his skin itched and stretched as it healed, but he certainly did not enjoy the groans of agony from the other boy as he slept, arms cradled by his chest, tucked between his body and the cold concrete cell wall.

Danny wasn't sure if this was preferable to the alternative. Sometimes, he would wake from his cellmate's chilling screams, muttering something about Annabeth and Tartarus. Danny had no idea what those things are, but he knew that he never wanted to find out for himself.

He also wasn't sure how he had offended Percy, because Percy had been willing to talk to him for a brief moment and they were making so much progress, but then he shut down quickly in the next.

Maybe Danny was too chirpy for a seventeen year old in a fifteen year old's body? Maybe Percy had just disliked him because he had reminded Percy too much of himself, just months prior. Danny, too, had begun to feel that his kind of optimism did not belong in a dry power-proof cell in the middle of goddamn nowhere.

Danny scanned Percy's body more thoroughly. He couldn't see much of his back, because the other boy was curled away from him, but he could make out the blistered burns and the faint patterns of Lichtenberg fractals from the other boy's neck. It already looked fainter than earlier in the day, but Danny couldn't forget the smell of charred flesh that hit him when Percy just came in.

It seemed familiar. The smell - and the pattern.

With a gasp, Danny scooted back. Percy stirred a little.

Danny composed himself, breathing out slowly. He knew that his cellmate had been electrocuted, though the phrase "they tried to jump start my divinity" had just started to make some sense in his mind.

Danny felt sick. He felt sick because he felt responsible.

Where else could the Morons in White get the idea from? They were trying to play with Percy's power (whatever that may be), and they were trying to achieve that by electrocuting him because that's what worked for Danny. Indirectly, Danny was responsible for Percy getting electrocuted.

Percy must have been loaded with enough high-voltage electricity currents to take him to the brink of death. Is that what Percy alluded to? That his "divinity" would spark from his death? That they nearly killed him because they drew inspiration from Danny's experiences? No wonder this guy was mad at him.

Danny still felt sick but he didn't need to add "vomit" into smells that the two had to endure. For the first time since he came to this cell, he felt completely hopeless. Maybe his cellmate had been right; there was no way to escape. The two were stuck here, and while misery loves company, he wished that Percy didn't have to suffer here. Danny didn't think the other boy could take much more; he's had enough.

Stirring, Percy's breath hitched. Danny watched him from his side of the cell. He looked on as Percy shifted to sit up and face him.

"Do you think they can hear us?" Percy rasped.

"Probably," Danny replied with a startled surprise. He didn't think Percy would be making conversation with him so soon again.

A pause.

Percy gestured to Danny to come closer. Danny walked over, cautiously, just in case he upset Percy again. He had never been on Percy's side of the cell before.

He sat down gingerly, and the other boy made no acknowledgement of him until he whispered.

"I can get us out, you know?"

"Then why don't you do it?" Danny exclaimed, but quickly tried to keep his voice down.

"It would cost me everything. If I do it, then I'd lose myself. I'd succumb to power."

A pause.

"I get it."

"Do you really, though?" Percy stared at Danny intently through his long, shaggy bangs. No words were exchanged, but in that moment they had an understanding.

Danny didn't know whatever Percy was alluding to, specifically, but he thought back to the fiasco with Dark Dan, when Clockwork had to step in before his actions escalated into the creation of a mindless, evil version of himself that heralded the end of the world.

Some powers require extreme caution. It's a slippery slope. Danny wasn't the only one who needed to tread carefully.

He just wondered why Percy bothered telling him all this if it didn't help their current situation in any way.

"You know," Percy leaned back, satisfied with their newfound synchrony. He then spoke in a regular volume, changing the topic, "I've been imprisoned in something like this before." Percy shared. "My uncle wasn't a big fan of mine, and well, I was intruding upon his realm once - to save the world, mind you - and he got mad. He threw me in a dungeon, but he forgot to make sure there was airflow, so it was pretty hazardous to my health."

"How did you get out?" Danny asked, curious. He was confused by the flow of the conversation, but he was sure that Percy had a reason for telling him all this.

"Oh, my cousin let me out." Percy said, something reaching into his eyes. It might have been nostalgia, or mirth, but Danny caught a fraction of it before it was gone. "It's good that he did, because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to breath, eventually, and that'd be the end of yours truly."

"So this cousin - any chance he would come here and help?" Danny prodded.

"I'm not sure if I want him to. I would share his name with you, but names have power." Percy said, which Danny thought was strange.

With his good arm, Percy pointed to the wall, then to his ears. Ah, walls have ears, he seemed to imply. Smart.

"Fair enough," Danny said, tilting his head slightly to the side, as if asking, what can we do, then?

Percy shook his head, quickly and subtly, nothing at the moment, he seemed to say.

"Anyway, what a Wednesday, huh? It's good that they had substituted our showers for ethanol, isn't it."

"Oh yeah,"Danny replied, "I love to swim in filth. It's great. All my wounds are just waiting to get infected." It was a joke: for all the downsides of being a half ghost, Danny was grateful that somehow, he had lost the ability to get infections. That sure came handy for him, because ghosts (and humans, now, apparently) like to disassemble and pulverize him on a weekly basis.

"Do you know why they use 70% ethanol? Not 50% or 30%?" Percy asked, eyes searching Danny's for recognition.

"No," Danny admitted, "I have no idea." He had never even thought twice about it. 70% ethanol was the standard for his parents to use in science.

"It's because of me. I'm half god - half sea god. I can control water - they use 70% ethanol because they knew if I tried to force water out of that for my own benefit, the pure ethanol would explode." Percy scowled, "Its flash point is well below room temperature. I found that out the hard way."

"You're a god," Danny gaped, not following the rest of his explanation. And he thought he was hot shit for being a half ghost.

"No, a demigod," Percy corrected, not unkindly.

"Oh my god," Danny quipped, and Percy sighed.

"No, I'm mortal. Mortality is the dominant gene. Hence, I'm stuck here and couldn't just snap my fingers to teleport us out."

"Gods are real," Danny stated. Percy nodded, "yes, and I'm trying to figure out why they aren't here to help already."

"Okay," Danny said, "okay. I guess stranger things can happen."

"But my point remains that our dehydration is my fault, and it's my responsibility to get us out." Percy said, a hard look of determination setting in his eyes. Danny could tell that it was the first glimmer in a long while for Percy.

This was a good thing, Danny wanted to conclude. But hope - he knows as well as anyone else - hope is a dangerous thing.

A/N: Wow. Thank you for the responses, everyone (tiwari2041, Destala, Thalorighan, TTGG03, FolkLuz21, ptl, reader238, and a couple of guests)! I highly appreciate your responses and support; here's to another chapter of adventure for Percy and Danny! I don't have much of this story mapped out yet, so please drop me any suggestions you may have.

If you like PJO, I would direct you to my fic "Wonderwall"! It's 42 chapters long, and it's complete. If you like DP, check out my one-shot "Radioactive" :)