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TODAY WAS FULL OF UNEXPECTANCISES. Charlie had never imagined someone wanting to screw Coach Hedge before, in fact she hadn't even considered the idea of it to be possible. She was proven wrong on that account. But then, to be saved by someone so down bad for him that they loose their job in order to save him and his demi-gods lives? That would've have been an amazingly original thought, and Charlie was disappointed she had never had it.

''Quick!'' Mellie yelled, having just dived at their feet just as the storm spirits hit with hurricane force, blasting the floor to pieces, shredding the carpet samples and marble and linoleum into what should've been lethal projectiles, has Mellie's robes not spread out like a shield and absorbed the bunt of the impact, all five of them falling into the pit. ''Son of Zeus, do you have any power over the air?''

''A little!''

''Then help me, or you're all dead!'' Mellie grabbed his hand, and an elastic charge went through Jason's arm. He understood what she needed. They had to control their fall and head for one of the open tunnels. The storm spirits were following them down, closing in rapidly, bringing with them a cloud of deadly shrapnel.

Jason grabbed Piper's hand. ''Group hug!''

Hedge, Charlie, Leo, and Piper tried to huddle together, hanging on to Jason and Mellie as they fell.

''This is so not good!'' Leo yelled.

''Bring it on, gas bags!'' Hedge yelled up at the storm spirits. ''I'll pulverize you!''

''He's brilliant,'' Mellie sighed.

''Concentrate?'' Charlie yelled the most flabbergasted voice any of them had ever heard before. 

''Right!'' Mellie said.

The two channelled the wind so that their fall became more of a tumble into the nearest open chute. Still, they slammed into the tunnel at a painful speed and went rolling over each other and down a steep vent that was not designed for people. There was no way they could stop.

Mellie's robes billowed around her. Jason and the others clung to her desperately, and they began to slow down, but the storm spirits were screaming into the tunnel behind them.

''Can't―hold―on―long,'' Mellie warned between strained teeth. ''Stay together! When the winds hit―''

''You're doing great, Mellie,'' Hedge said. ''My own mama was an aura, you know. She couldn't have done better herself.''

''Iris-message me?'' Mellie pleaded.

Hedge winked.

''Can you guys plan your date later?'' Piper screamed. ''Look!''

Behind them, the tunnel was turning dark. Charlie could feel her ears pop as the pressure built. ''I can't hold them,'' Mellie warned. ''But I'll try to shield you, do you one more favour.''

''Thanks, Mellie,'' Jason said. ''I hope you get a new job.''

She smiled and hen dissolved, wrapping them in a warm gentle breeze. Then the real winds hit, shooting them to the sky so fast, Charlie blacked out.

Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel grey. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, a few even took the floor, people were standing up, people staring out the windows, and even people waiting for an elevator.

Nobody moved, or spoke or did much of anything. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see them all perfectly, but she was beginning to think her vision was acting up. If her eyes lingered on one for too long, they became transparent. She could see straight through their bodies.

She hoped they couldn't see through hers―it felt like an odd sort of violation as she moved her hands to cover her body comically.

Her eyes glanced around once more, spotting a security guard's desk on a raised podium, forcing her to look up at him as she approached.

The guard himself was tall and elegant, with chocolate-coloured skin and bleached-blond hair, shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

''Excuse me, uh, sir?''

He grinned at that. ''Ah, finally a lass with manners!'' He had a strange accent ― British, maybe, Charlie was leaning towards the north or perhaps even Scotland, and the accent had just faded slightly. He also spoke weirdly like English was a second language to him. ''What can I do for you?''

''Oh, well, um, where am I?''

He tilted his head, as if in disbelief that she hadn't figured it out yet. ''Why, the river Styx, of course.''

Charlie's eyes widened and her head tilted up, pulling back in disbelief. Her eyes glanced at his name tag. ''Then that makes you the Charon... But I'm not dead.''

Charon raised a single brow. ''Aren't you?''

Charlie shook her head, hand moving up to her chest. Her fingers dug in, desperate to figure out why she didn't feel it: had it faded? Perhaps she was sick, and that this― no, she could see the way he was looking at her. Bored, any and all vague interest disappearing as she reacted the same way all the others did; he had been expecting at least something interesting.

Charlie had no heart-beat.

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes and her hands shook as they clutched onto her tattered and burnt jacket. She cautiously reached for the zip tugging it down. The orange gave her some sense of calmness, as it always did, but the main factor was that it turned blotchy and red. She took a deep breath, shaking, and pulled the zip further down.

Stabbed.

It looked like a javelin wound, and it was almost directly in the middle of her chest. She could feel it now, and the sensation told her it hadn't gone straight in ― perhaps she had tried to dodge or something, because she could tell that the exit wound was more to the right than the entrance one was.

''You look pretty dead to me.''

Charlie could picture it, a javelin sticking out of the ground with her body kebabbed in the middle of it. Oh, she could throw up, but she had a feeling Charon wouldn't take kindly to such a stain on his nice carpets.

Her poor friends, Drew, Silena, even Annabeth, Rachel and Percy too ― oh she hoped none of them would be the ones to find her body.

''Percy...'' She said, the name reminding her of something. ''He told me about this, his first mission.'' No, that wasn't it. Something else; nagging at her brain.

''The little dead one and his friends?'' Charon puffed out his chest. ''Ahh, got me a pay-rise. Died in a big bathtub, y'know,'' he winked as if sharing an inside secret, but Charlie wasn't fully listening, concentrating on what she was forgetting. ''Anyways, onto business, the boat's almost full, you have any money for boarding?''

Charlie's hand absent-mindedly went to her jacket pocket, rummaging around in it before she froze. ''I don't have any.''

''You don't have any,'' he said in a breathy tone, sighing as though sympathising with her, shaking his head.

''Oh, my bag! I was holding it when I died, y'know, huge quest and everything. I should have some with my supplies, if you'll show me where it is.''

''If it's not on your body, it won't be―'' He paused. ''Hold on, lass, did you say quest?''

''Yeah? That's how I died, funny, I didn't really take wind spirits for using javelins, but then again I also wasn't expecting Aeolus to betray us either―''

''Aeolus?'' Charon frowned and shook his head. ''That's not right, you died in the battle, against Kronos, remember?'' He grabbed a clip-board and started flipping through it in order to double-check.

''Oh... Oh! Yeah, I did―and Percy,'' her eyes widened and she finally remembered why his name still clung to her. ''Percy's missing, the battle was ages ago, Jason and Piper and Leo ― both Leo's ―look, Mr. Charon, you really gotta let me go. I've already died before, and I am more than willing to do it again but first you have to let me help my friends! They could be―''

''Whoa, whoa, slow down lass,'' Charon said, eyebrows furrowed as his thumb rubbed the space between them, his other hand holding the clipboard as he read off it. ''You're wrong, it says here that it's the battle of―''

''That was the first time! Oh, I really didn't die going down a giant slide did I? That's embarrassing, but anyway, look, you're confused. I've been here, and I hung around waiting for months, until I... left... somehow, I don't remember how but―''

''Excuse me?''

Charlie turned to the person behind her. ''Oi, ever heard of queues? Wait your turn, I'm in the middle of explaining something.'' She turned back to Charon, leaning on the desk as she hit it with the tip of her index finger, trying to get across her point. ''As I was saying―''

''You don't belong here.''

''What, at the front? I'm telling you, mister, if you don't back off I will sucker-punch you in the throat so hard that you'll die twice―'' She turned around and the words stopped.

''Charlie.''

''Dad?''

She looked him up and down, shaking her head.

''What are you doing here?''

''You're dreaming Charlie, this isn't real.'' He extended his hand out, turning and as his hand moved, the scene changed until they were being suffocated in white. The room was blank, and almost too bright after the darkness of the Underworld. He turned back to face her. ''And if anyone asks, I wasn't here.''

''I don't want you here.''

Hermes seemed hurt at that, but he nodded to show he understood. ''I know, sweetheart, but I've already lost enough children. I couldn't stand by as your sub-conscious caused you to suffer through it again.''

He'd never had a problem with it before, this being a reoccurring nightmare that somehow felt real and deceived her every time. Charlie was tempted to ask him to leave, really tempted, but he had raised a few questions. ''How did I get out? The first time, the real time.''

He smiled sadly. ''Always the impatient one. Afraid you get that one from me, your mother was always so―''

''I asked you a question.''

''Right, right, sorry ― y'know, I thought your whole problem with me was not communicating with my kids enough, and here I am: trying to talk to you and―''

''That is my problem with you. But I'm not one of your kids.''

He looked like he had been the one to take a javelin to the torso. He forced a smile, it looked nostalgic. ''You've said that ever since you got to Camp, I claimed you straight away, of course.''

Charlie didn't need reminding, it had kept her lying awake, guilty, for months.

''Do you,'' he broke off to laugh a little, ''Do you remember when you got your first pack of cards, won them in a bet against some Apollo kids, and you took it as your sign that Tyche was reaching out to you, adopting you?''

''I won a pack of cards and every gambling game I've played with them. It was natural to think the god of luck was showing me more affection than my own, neglective father was.'' She paused. ''Then I remembered my mother's gambling habits, figured the only thing that had happened is observation. No parenting, and no adoption letter.''

''Ah, don't take it out on your mother like that, she tried her best to―''

''To keep me in the dark? Or to keep me away from you? She failed either way, but that's not the reason I'm talking to you. I don't need a therapy session, from the person behind it all, to talk about his little partner-in-crime. I'll ask again, how did I leave the Underworld?''

''You simply got bored, turned around, and left.''

''That's possible?''

''During the past few months, yes.''

''Why?''

''I can't tell you.''

''Can't tell me? Dude, you shouldn't even be here, you're already breaking one of the rules, just let it out for Pete's sake!''

''Pete's sake? That's a new one.''

''Don't act like you know what's new for me and what isn't.''

Hermes sighed, shoulders sagging. They were going around in circles, he was here to try and prompt her in the right direction, and it kept coming back to an argument. Perhaps, if she just let everything out―

''About what happened with Luke―''

''Don't say his name!''

Charlie had never punched a God before, (directly anyway, the stick-figure drawings she had done of them and pinned to her punching-bag had never felt as good as this did).

Hermes made a slightly pained noise, hand going to his jaw and moving it, straightening it out. ''Got a glass jaw, you can't just punch me like that.''

''A God has a glass jaw? Don't be ridiculous.''

''I'm in my mortal form to avoid detection, and I suppose it's more marble, considering how many statues of me there is―''

''And I'll spend the rest of my life dedicated to destroying each and every one if you don't explain to me what you're doing here, right now. And don't try and make it a bonding session, that's not what this is, and that's not what I want it to be.''

''I wonder if any of the other Gods have someone as stubborn as you for a child,'' he said it with a smile, but Charlie chose to take it as an insult anyway.

''Oh, fuck off! None of the other Gods have ever ignored a child so badly that he then resurrected a Titan, either! Looks like you're full of victories today!'' Her chest was heaving and she was closer, fists clenching and unclenching. Hermes sub-consciously flexed his jaw again.

''Didn't think me being nice would help get all that out in the open, but now―''

Charlie made an aggravated noise and span around, sitting down rather harshly. She regretted it slightly, her arse hurting now, but she ignored it.

''What are you doing?''

''I'm waking up.''

''Charlie, c'mon, you haven't even somehow weaselled your way into getting the answer.''

''I don't want to.''

''But then you're going into this whole thing blind, and as someone who isn't even apart of the Great Prophecy, you need to be aware of what's going to happen.''

He just kept telling her things she didn't want to hear.

She wasn't apart of the Great Prophecy? Originally, she didn't even want to be apart of this life-style, but now that it had forced her to come back to her half-blood roots, form friends and make a vow to protect them from what no one had kept her safe from, just for it to kick her back out?

Charlie would have to die again before that ever happens.

She brought her legs to her chest and covered her ears with her hands, forehead pushing into her knees and chin into her chest.

''Oh,'' Hermes said, softer than ever before as he stared at her shaking form. ''Okay, well, I suppose Aphrodite's got it covered on Piper's end anyway.'' 

He sat next to her.

That's it, just a single sentence to represent how little he was doing, and yet Charlie had never felt so thankful for his presence. He stared ahead as she stared at her arms, counting the few hairs that were beginning to sprout on the backs of her palms now she had been away from civilisation for a couple of days.

He didn't say anything else, and Charlie didn't want him to.

For the first time, he actually felt like a father to her. She sniffled and moved her head upwards, propping it on her arms. Spikey.

Hermes hummed, and Charlie recognised the tune straight away. She whimpered, burying her head despite only just coming out of hiding it. Hermes continued and he turned his head towards her, extending one arm out.

Charlie took the offer, quickly crawling and crossing the small space in between the two of them as she huddled into his side, clinging onto his mail uniform. He laid his arm on her form, continuing to softly hum as he let her stain his shirt with her tears.

Once the song finished ― a soft lullaby her mother used to sing, before her life had gone so badly down hill ― they sat in silence again, the only thing filling the void was Charlie's sobs that only grew louder by the second, echoing in the endless space.

Hermes began to move his arm, rubbing up and down her side as he tried not to think about the scar his forearm was grazing over, a layer of clothing hiding it from sight. He started humming again, from the beginning once more.

Charlie wanted to thank him. She wasn't sure what for. Realising his mistakes, reaching out and claiming all his children, sending blue-prints to the Hephaestus Cabin on how to expand his cabin for those who didn't yet have their own, or for being so patient with her, so understanding.

But she couldn't get the words out

Charlie didn't hate her father, not really. She only pretended to. Charlie wanted to hate him. Really, really wanted to hate him, because that was what the accepted reaction was. Her dad had been the reason for Luke's death, but when she found out about it, he had also been the only one she sought out to comfort her.

The reason she hadn't been able to pay Charon when she had died, was because she spent her last drachmae trying to contact him via Iris-message. And then she had died before she could finish speaking. Hadn't the perpetrator known the war was over? That everything had been lost anyway, and killing her was only helping ease her pain, and not Kronos?

Hermes' hold tightened, as if he could hear her thoughts.

Yeah, she wanted to hate him, if not for her, then for Luke's sake. But she couldn't, and that was why she hated herself.

''I love you.''

Charlie often surprised herself, but this would take the lead. The words had left her mouth before she even realised she was speaking her voice sore and croaky. She cradled further into him, seeking every last drop of comfort.

''I know, sweetheart.'' Hermes' mouth felt dry. Like Charlie he never really said those three words either, and his throat was itchy just thinking about it.

''It's okay,'' Charlie said as she shook her head, pulling back slightly so her voice wouldn't be muffled as she glanced at his face, making eye-contact for all of three seconds. ''You don't have to say it back.'' And she was latched onto him again,

But he needed to, and Hermes desperately wanted to. He loved all his kids, but never really expressed it in the correct ways, and he couldn't have a repetition of Luke, not with Charlie. Not even Olympus could know what would happen if the girl was to snap.

''I love you too.''

Charlie sniffed, heart soaring and she laughed slightly, a sob following straight after as her fists curled up, looking to hold her father as tightly as she could.

Hermes felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he inched his head lower down to place a kiss on top of her hair, pressing down hard enough to ensure she felt it. The words came easier the second time.

''I love you too.''

And then she woke up.

Charlie was at a sidewalk café.

For a second she thought she was still dreaming. It was a sunny morning. The air was brisk but not unpleasant for sitting outside. At the other tables, a mix of bicyclists, business people, and college kids sat chatting and drinking coffee. Lots of foot traffic passed in front of quaint little shops. The street was lined with bottle-brush trees and blooming azaleas as if winter was a foreign concept.

In other words: she was in California.

Her friends sat in chairs around her ― all of them with their hands calmly folded across their chests, dozing pleasantly. Until Piper grasped her chair's arms in shock, ''Mother!''

Jason flinched, bumping the table with his knees, waking up everyone else.

''What?'' Hedge demanded. ''Fight who?