ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

xii.

"You are under the impression that I care. Let me clear that up: I do not. I do not care if you are in danger, or if you bruise your knee. I'm not going to put a Band-Aid on your scrapes. I am slightly pleased if you succeed. I am unaffected if you do not. Others will take your place. Others will take theirs. You have been given a job, and you have been given a time-limit. Here, let me light the fire under your ass: I will not crush you like a bug under my foot. I don't think you care; however, I do think you care that right now, that young boy you promised to protect is slowly suffocating, with precious little time left. I suppose it's a good thing you didn't swear it on the River Styx."

Aza's stomach dropped, and someone gripped her throat, preventing her from breathing properly. A quiet, pathetic whine, like a dog realizing its owner had left, escaped her lips. Her eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a slight snarl, "I'm going to ignore what you just said, because I know you have on your plate. You didn't have to say that. You could have just told me that Nico was in danger. Nothing is going to happen to him."

"You hope."

"Alright," Aza stood to her feet, and she jabbed a finger in her father's direction, "I've been cutting you some slack because of what Nemesis told us. But just because you've got your own little identity crisis going on, it doesn't mean you get to be an ass. Get out of my dream, go lick your wounds up at Olympus with the other gods and watch your children fight your battles for you. I hope you're all proud - give yourselves a pat on the back. The great gods of Olympus, hiding in the palace we created for them, watching us fight for our lives like a television show. You want to know the real reason Kronos and Luke were such a threat to you? Because they were right, and you knew it. That's why you promised to change. But sometimes people can't see past their needlessly oversized ego and can't change, and I learned that in the stupid fucking hospital, all because you allowed my mother to abandon me there."

Her father, too, stood. He mirrored her stance, slicking back his strands of slightly-sweaty hair to his scalp. Aza forced herself to stare into his russet eyes, though as she did so she understood why very few could look into hers. Before Phobos did as she asked and left her dream, he swallowed thickly, "You watched Star Wars. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. A river runs in one direction, but you, Aza-Everett, can alter the flow. I believe in you, Aza. My stupid mother has made me sentimental; you are my only living child. I do not want a repeat of what happened to your brother."

"Don't--" Aza said harshly, her eyes narrowing. "Don't talk about Salvatore. You don't get to talk about him. You're the reason he died."

"I am not," Phobos shook his head calmly, "He is the reason he died. He couldn't channel his powers; that is not my fault. But you, Aza - you have the ability."

"That's all you have to say? You're not going to apologize? You feel no remorse - you're a selfish fucking prick; you're a sorry excuse for a father. You -"

Aza was awoken by the oak floor meeting her face. After a less than pleasant dream, she wished she had a better way to wake up - her nose cracked, and she groaned loudly, trying to find the energy to plant her palms on the floor and raise herself. Piper's muffled voice came from above her, "Oh, gods, I'm so sorry - I just meant to rip off your blankets, because Jason said that's the best way to wake you, but you were tangled in them, and -"

"It's fine," she pushed herself off the floor and placed a hand on her chin, cracking her neck, "Is everything okay? Why'd you wake me."

"We can't find Percy or Annabeth."

Aza's sleepiness was gone in an instant. She left Piper in her room, slamming into one side of her doorway before rocketing into the hallway and shouting, "Percy! Annabeth!"