Champion of Love

None of This is Okay, What The Fuck

There he was, waiting for them, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat
propped casually on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its head-light turning the sand in front of it red.

"Hey, kid," Ares greeted, seeming genuinely pleased to see Percy. He grinned. "You were supposed to die."

"Ares, how did you of all people steal the helm and the bolt?" Percy demanded.

Ares' grin dropped at the boy's tone. "Hey! Don't act like I'm some chump, brat!"

"That's not what you are? Because as far as I'm concerned, only chumps try to start a war over something so petty. And only morons try to kill their girlfriend's kids. Can you find anything in those two sentences that suggest you actually have a functioning brain?" Shit talking a god, especially Ares, was not Percy's finest moment. Her had a lot of moments like that in this quest, and he was sick of it. But Ares was going to get everyone in Camp Half-Blood killed over a war started by a petty argument. Because Chaos forbid that the Gods actually resolve their own problems and do so peacefully and responsibly right?

"Who was it? The thief? Who in the world would listen to whatever the hell your reason was to steal another God's symbol of power?" Percy asked. He wanted at least one question answered before he beat Ares' ass and went straight to his mother to tell on the bastard. Percy was not above snitching.

The idea seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've gotta die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you after you've come all this way to clear him. Plus, your mother's already teamed up with him and she's vicious in her revenge. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this...."
From his pocket, he took out a ski cap–the kind bank robbers wear–and placed it between the handlebars
of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into a beautiful, elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness!" Grover gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going, and the others will all take sides."

"But they're your family!" Annabeth protested.

Percy sighed. "Gods aren't like that, Annabeth. They care about family as much as my dad did when my mom died."

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war anyway. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

He really did always say that, it was a stupid catch phrase.

"So who the their was doesn't matter or is it something else?" Percy asked, narrowing his eyes at the war god.

Ares' brow twitched and his smirk got a little wider, bit that just made him look uncertain in Percy's eyes.

That confirmed another question, but Percy really wished it wasn't that particular question. He shared a look with Annabeth.

"You don't even remember much of when you found the thief, do you? There's no way you would do all this without some sort of outside influence. My mom would not only dump your ass so fast if she found out everything we have, she would also enact revenge on you for who knows how long." Percy stepped forward. Ares shifted, the scowl suddenly on his face twitching.

Percy had never seen him do that before. His guess had to be right, then.

"Someone's been whispering in your ear, Ares. You've been used, just like the rest of us. Except your an all-powerful God and we're just kids sent to do the dirty work. That's gotta suck for you." Percy snickered. "How does it feel to be treated like you treat your own children, Ares?"