There comes a point in everyone's life where they stop and look back at what they've done, wondering what thing it is they did to get them into the position they are in at the present time.

Zoë Nightshade reckoned that she'd had a couple dozen of those moments.

She had without a doubt had a strange life. Or lives, she really didn't know how she was supposed to refer to it at this point. There wasn't exactly a manual on resurrection that was for the person who had just been brought back to life.

This is probably because people who have died and come back to life tend not to like to dwell on that in between too much. Or at least, Zoë didn't.

From her birth in the Garden of the Hesperides over two thousand years ago, she had gone from being a naive Hesperide, to a huntress of Artemis, to a Lieutenant of Artemis, to dead, to alive and an agent of Olympus.

At least she could say that she had one hell of a resume.

Plus the job itself wasn't to bad. Despite the fact that Zoë never in her life thought she'd ever described herself as having an actual job, she somewhat enjoyed it. In a reluctant sort of way, anyway. She got a good apartment in New York City, an office on Olympus, and opportunities to travel all over the world when on missions, and the freedom to do the same when she wasn't.

In short, she was a freelance agent for the gods of Olympus with two thousand years of training. Which made her popular, respected, and most of all expensive.

However, the popularity of using her for missions was also what had landed her where she was at the present. In a twin sized white cotton bed, in a hospital, on Olympus, with one of her legs strapped so tightly that she had lost feeling in it a minute after the brace had been put on.

It was a downside of immortality, even when that immortality was no longer at work, that ambrosia functioned far less effectively.

She reached up brushed aside several strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes. Despite the fact that she no longer had the blessing of Artemis, Zoë had not lost any of her beauty in the transition. Her dark brown eyes, long ash colored hair, and copper skin combined with her facial features made her luck as stunning as she always had.

And all of this was aided by her new appearance in terms of age. In the nine years she had been back, she had aged from the physical age of fourteen to twenty three. Not only improving her physique but making it possible to do much of her job with far fewer difficulties.

Though sadly it didn't keep her from practically shattering her leg. Zoë winced as she scooched back in the bed to be in a more upright position. Eventually she managed to move her leg to a point where it no longer caused her pain, and she reached back to adjust the pillows enough to let her stay in that position.

Turning to her left, she reached over and selected a book from a wooden bookcase. Just close enough to the bed for the patient to reach, but not close enough that they could do it with ease.

Flipping through the pages, Zoë's eyes scanned for where she had left off the previous day. Eventually she found it, amidst a block of text that she could have sworn was only put there to discourage readers from going any further.

Taking a deep breath, she let a smile graced her face as she re immersed herself into the novel. Eyes flitting back and forth as she made her way through the text.

Zoë was a fast reader, she always had been even from the first book she had read. Which meant that she was able to make it a whole two pages before someone knocked on the door.

She sighed. Why. Was the only word that she bothered to think.

A woman's voice sounded through the door. "Ms. Nightshade, are you decent?"

As if it's even possible for me to dress or undress myself with this damn thing on. Zoë closed the book and placed it back on it's shelf. When she turned her attention to the speaker, she was well versed and polite enough to simply respond as such. "You may come in."

The door opened to reveal a young dryad smartly dressed in the average mortals business sports coat and skirt. She took a step in and stood in the doorway. "Miss Nightshade."

"What is it?" Zoë asked, maintaining her polite tone.

"Lord Zeus and Lady Artemis are here to see you, Miss Nightshade." The dryad responded a little meekly. Zoë guessed that she must have been new.

"I will see them." Zoë responded and thanked the dryad, who hurried off. The former huntress took a moment to make her hair slightly less erratic and straightened out the clothes the hospital had given her. Trying to make the somewhat more modest, though she knew that it was pretty much impossible.

Footsteps sounded from the hall and a twelve year old girl opened the door and stepped into the room. Her long auburn hair fell to her waist and her silver eyes glinted, not for any reason, they just did. Artemis, goddess of the hunt.

She smiled when she Zoë. She walked over to the bed and the two shared a somewhat careful hug.

"Good to see you again, Zoë."

Before she could response, a strong presence filled the room and a middle aged man rounded the doorway. The lights flickered slightly in his presence at the air in the room briefly flared with voltage. Zeus, king of the gods.

Zoë resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Drama queen.

"My lord." She nodded her head, as she was unable to bow. "My lady."
"Zoë Nightshade," Zeus said gruffly. "How's the leg?"

"Still somewhat painful, my lord. But it's supposed to be healed in a couple of days."

"Good that's good to hear." Though Zeus didn't sound incredibly compassionate. The lord of the skies dragged a chair over from the wall and Artemis did the same for herself. The two gods sat. "We need to talk to you Nightshade."

"Alright. What about, my lord?" Zoë asked, already certain of the answer

"Your next mission, of course."

Zoë nodded in silence, but inside she was groaning in discomfort. I wish they would have waited until I was at least out of the hospital and in my own office.

"And what is it, my lord?" She asked.

"A search and retrieval, Nightshade. Not one of your usual types, but you're the most qualified. This man vanished off the face of the earth nearly ten years ago and we've had little to no trace of him until now." Zeus reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and extracted a manilla folder that was far to big to actually have fit in any of the pockets on his person. He held it out for Zoë, who took it but left it shut.

"All the details are in the envelope. If you need anything else, you know the drill." Artemis spoke this time. She hesitated with her next words. "One more thing Zoë, this man...he's someone you know, or used to know. I… you should just read the file."

Zoë frowned. She opened the envelope. Inside was a stack of paper, stapled together at the top left hand corner. She flipped past the first page and her jaw dropped.

The photo was not high quality, taken by someone who only had a narrow opportunity. Most of it was blurry, but the man's face was sharp and clear.

At first she didn't recognize him, but slowly she picked out features on the man's face that stuck out from the scars, beard, and shoulder length wavy hair that even though the photo she could tell was a black darker than her own.

She looked further down on the page, where all the personal info was laid out and read it somewhat disbelievingly.

Perseus Jackson

photo taken - March 17th, 2017

Born - August 18th, 1992

Current Age - 27

Last Sighted - Manchester, England

Suspected Location - Marlborough, England

Status - Deserted, Charge Pardoned by Olympic Court

Threat Level - Hyper Lethal

Danger Level - Low-Mid, Expect Difficulties in Cooperation

Fee - To be Discussed Upon Completion

It was the very last person that Zoë Nightshade ever expected to be sent after.

She looked back up at the two gods. "Perseus, my lord?" She struggled to find the right words. "Why do we...does he need to be brought back like this?"

"All details are in the file, Miss Nightshade." Zeus stood up, Artemis followed quickly though she looked reluctant to leave. "When you're out of here, go to the Olympus Controlled Airfield in New York and take the private jet waiting for you there. Lady Artemis will be on an Iris Message for anything further you wish to discuss."

"Yes, my lord," said Zoë. "but-"

"Good luck, Miss Nightshade." Zeus nodded to her and left the room.

Artemis stayed a moment longer. "I'm sorry Zoë, I wanted to visit you but I couldn't. I'll talk with you when you get to the plane." She waited another moment, as if she had more that she wanted to say. But she decided against it, and followed her father from the room.

Zoë was once again left alone in the room.

She looked back down at the dossier and flipped back and forth through the pages, but she kept coming back to the picture of Perseus. The boy who had without a doubt left an impression on the lives of many including herself, the boy who managed to befriend her before her death from her father, the boy who had changed so much in twelve years that she never would have recognized him if not for the context of the picture.

She opened to the third page and began reading what had been put down, or at least, what wasn't covered by black ink.

-Line Break-

"Come on mate, just another pint? I'll drop by and get the money back to you tomorrow, I promise."

Such statements had become what Percy Jackson associated most with Marlborough, England. Not a very flattering association for the country.

The bartender, a tired looking old man with a mustache that would make an Icelandic seal jealous, sighed and for what seemed to the the hundredth time told the desperate man that he could not have another drink. And, that if he continued to bother him, he would have him thrown out. Quite literally.

This did not make the man very happy.

Percy watched from a small table near the back of the room as the drunk hurled himself at the bartender. Attempting to, what Percy could only assume, was a vault over the bar. But instead, the man jumped up and slammed back down onto the top of the wood. Scattering drinks and food with his landing.

The people around him understandable got up and backed away.

"Why you-"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn Maniac!"

The drunk tried to continue to make his way over, but was pulled back by the people around him. Now irate for having their drink disturbed.

Percy sighed.

The young man calmly placed the book he was reading on the table, stood up and, punished in his chair. He walked over to the group of people that had managed to draw every single occupants attention off of the football game.

As the melee continued on the floor, Perseus looked at the bartender. "I'll take him outside."

The old man looked strained. "Would you please, Jack?"

Percy reached downward, and one by one removed the men from the rather sad dog pile. At the very bottom, the drunk lay on the ground. Mostly unhurt, but still near unconsciousness. Though it was more from the alcohol than his mild beating.

"Alright lads, that's enough." He said to the men still itching to beat on the idiot who ruined a perfectly mediocre mug of beer. "I'll get him outta here."

"Yeah, and make sure he doesn't come back!" Someone shouted from the other end of the room.

"I'll do my best." Percy appeased him, though the statement was empty. He leaned down and took the man by the shoulders. "Come on, time to go."

Even as the door closed behind him, he could already hear the people inside going back to what they were doing.

Outside, the evening was cool. A light snowfall covered the ground and more fell from the sky. A rare weather occurrence in England. So rare that in some places just three inches of snow and some ice could cancel school for the kids and some work for the adults. Sometimes, even less was required.

He set the man on a bench outside, withdrew his phone and began to dial in the number of the local taxi service.

It was a sign of how his life had turned. Eight years ago, he would have either had to have been very desperate, or incredibly stupid to use a mobile phone. Which was the equivalent for a demigod of shooting off a flare gun. But that wasn't a problem anymore.

Pushing aside old memories, Percy heard as someone picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is Wiltshire Taxi Services. How can we help you." The familiar voice buzzed through the receiver. The voice made Percy perk up slightly, the odds that he would get someone he knew on this call.

"Hey Kate, this is Jack." Percy responded.

"Jack," Her voice took on a happier tone. "I haven't spoken you in ages. How are you, what have you been up to?"

Percy hesitated a moment "Fine," He said, ignoring the second question. Then he glanced over at the drunk.

Well, mostly fine.

"You aren't telling me the truth, Jack." She said. "What's up?"

Percy hesitated again. He hated lying to people like Kate. People who were so unapologetic in their good treatment of him. And on top of that, people who had no chance understanding the problems of a demigod. But he had to lie, it wasn't his call to make.

"Nothing," he said at last. "I just need a taxi."

"Oh," She responded, sounding embarrassed for a moment. She cleared her throat. "Of course, Jack. Where do you need it?"

"Just out front of Toolan's bar." No further direction was needed. Everyone in the county knew where Toolan's bar was. It served great beer.
"Of course," he heard her clacking briefly on a keyboard. "One will be there in about five or ten minutes."

"Thanks Kate." Percy responded, taking another glance at the drunk. Who was, thankfully, still mostly passed out.

"No problem. Goodbye." Percy quickly went to hang up, but before he did she spoke again. "Jack wait!"

He stopped and brought the phone back up. "What is it?"

She paused momentarily on the other line. Percy could almost see the expression on her face as she considered her next words.

"Jack… something's up, I can tell. You've never been the most talkative person, and that's fine, I've respected your privacy. But you've been different recently, more withdrawn, you barely talk to me anymore. Not to mention anyone else." She stopped and took a deep breath. You can trust me Jack, what's going on?"

She waited in silence for him to respond. Percy had practically frozen in the street, the lines in his face locked like a statue. In a couple dozen words she had cut through to him. He knew he had never been incredibly warm to the people he knew now, and he knew they deserved better. And they deserved to know more about him, despite the fact that he couldn't tell them.

He knew Kate would be the one to confront him, she was the most selfless of the people he knew. So he had tried to maintain a bit of a distance from her. But that little distance had turned into a big one and now she was even more worried than before. Good job Percy, thumbs up, gold star, he cursed at himself.

"I can't talk about this now Kate…" he trailed off, wetting his lips which had begun to crack in the cold. He felt guilty. Which probably explained his next words, because under no other circumstance would he have said them. "Listen, let's meet for coffee tomorrow. We can catch up a bit, would eleven work for you?"

"Yeah, sure Jack. That would be nice." Her tone brightened again, though it wasn't quite as jovial as when she began. "I'll see you tomorrow, bye."

"Goodbye."

The phone clicked as it touched down on it's port on the other end. Perseus sighed and slipped his mobile back into his pocket. A few minutes later the cab arrived. With the help of the driver they slid the drunk into the back seat. Using the man's driver's license, Percy told the address to the cabbie and gave him a twenty dollar bill.

The driver took it, knowing it was under what was required, and pulled away from the bar. The car disappeared down the road. Lost in the snow and the thick darkness of the night. Percy turned around and walked up the cement steps into the bar.

Inside, George Toolan was waiting for him. "Any troubles, Jack?" The old man asked anxiously.

Percy sighed softly enough that no one else heard, "Nah, just caught the man a cab and sent him home."

George nodded and smiled slightly. "Thanks for the help, I didn't want that to get ugly."

Percy stopped, turned, and raised an eyebrow tiredly.

"You know what I mean, Jack." George stopped a moment, seeming to sense the young man's mood. He reached out and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Next time you come, the drinks are on the house."

"Well that's… quite generous of you. Thanks Toolan." Percy gave a small salute and walked back to his table. A couple of people tossed glances his way but mostly he was left alone.

He lowered himself back into the chair and picked his book back up. He took a sip of beer, feeling the burning taste as it traveled down his throat, and continued to read.

Percy Jackson smiled, he enjoyed reading.

AN:

Greetings people, another story has arisen. No this means nothing in relation to my first project, I will still be updating that around the same frequency. However this story that you have just read will probably have a slower update time, as it is not my primary priority. I will probably be uploading the first, or the first few chapter of some of my other stories in the near future, just to give myself a small library of works on this site. And aside from my primary objective, they will update more slowly, but story popularity may change that. Who knows, I certainly don't, I surprise myself all the time. That's probably not a good thing

Oh an one more thing, for Percy's appearance I kind of imagine him looking like Jim Morrison (Story Picture) except that unlike Morrison, he never got fat. And in this story, Zoe Nightshade looks very similar to Anne Boleyn in The Tudors, just obviously not dressed in those dresses.

Until the next chapter, whichever story it may be on, this is Hemlock Stones signing off.