Satan Gives me a headache.

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Dean POV:

Since me and Sammy were locked up in a room, with no escape and the news that Lucifer is drawn our brother and the fact that we do not know where he is. I think today went pretty well.

First off we were taken into a room of hostile gods who told us that our new shining brother had been lying with every breath and that his daddy is a great massive hot-shot god who would be pissed (read apocalyptic) off if we killed his son (read let him die when we were looking after him). Also not to mention the fact that Casa Erotica was a fake and just some static and a lousy set of music to go with it.

Sammy and I were stressing out, we were tearing around the room ripping off the flowery wall paper and curtains, trying to find any other way out. All the bourbon bottles in the fridge were smashed against the floor, and with the refills, and their refills and their refills. 

"It's not going to work, they're gods Dean they are older and crueller then we could imagine and they are not going to let us out!" Sammy was looking at me with ripped bits of wall paper gripped tightly in his hands, staring at my bloody, stinging hands. 

I looked at him because despite him lying to us Percy was still out Brother, and we would be completely at the mercy of an elder god, and my hands still had pieces of glass in it from smashing the whiskey into the door.

"We can't leave him" I pant out, resigned and huffing out breath leaning my arm on the wall where I was tearing off the wall paper. I still felt as if my heart was going to break, because I am falling apart at the seams, and reeling after the information overload. The fact that he was a  powerful demigod explained him being in Hell and it explained why he looked so angry at the gods, and explained why his ultimate expressions felt like being zapped by lighting. 

"We can't let anyone else die Sammy, we agreed to look after him, and we can't let him be taken, or die like Adam." We both look down, dejected at that knowing that we could have done nothing to prevent that. But we can do something about this. 

Percy POV: 

Gods this was a bad idea. Everything is spinning and I have minimal control over my limbs and I keep on thinking that I can hear my dad's voice telling me to clean the water.

Or was it drink the water, its getting a bit muddy, but at least i'm not thinking about my dead Annabeth. 

Oh God Annabeth, I haven't put a flower on her grave in days, and what would she think of me getting off my rocker drunk.

Oh if i'm drunk then I need to get Dionysus a drink as well, maybe he would come and get me out of this room. 

Oh, I met Annabeth when I played pinochle with Dionysus, or was it Grover, year, yes,yesh I called her Princess. Or was that when I got knocked out, or did I faint. All this alcohol is speeding me ADHD up and giving me a spiral of emotions. 

Then a thunderous crash sounded through the room, no no not thunder, just Mur- Hermes this time, opening the door. 

"Wass up, cuz" I say reaching to him whilst lounging on the floor just before the bed waving a bottle of what might be either water or wine, after just being sick on it, "you need this, your tooooooooo up tight." 

Hermes did not look impressed, and a feeling of a hundred little pin pricks felt all in my stomach, as Hermes grabbed the back of my head and guided me to the toilet, and then I was violently, violently sick, getting all of the alcohol out of my system. 

I must have blacked out for a bit because my head was resting on my arm that was on the toilet, and Hermes was not in the bathroom, but I heard footsteps and quite mumbling from outside of the toilet, and then a sudden silence, and a sudden,

"I need to go, Perseus is fine, and will be fine. But he is here." and then the noise of a IM being cancelled. 

Groaning, I stood up and moved to the door, nudging it open with my foot, and shuffling in under the administrative glare of Hermes.

"You prayed to the wrong god you moron. When you were near passed out drunk you kept on saying 'Hermes save me Dionysus trapped me in cave' or something to that effect, because you were so drunk you were passed the point of slurring, you were mumbling." He threw his hands up into the air like a mother giving a lecture, glaring right into my head. "I had to draw out all of the drinks from your body, and you were puking for 5 minuets straight, and if you kept going you would have had to have your stomach pumped. I am severely disappointed." 

I just glared back at him, "your disappointed in me, wow what a cliche, do you think that I care if your disappointed, do you think that I would listen to you just because you think your entitled to me because you think i'm your family." god I am really going to die but I don't really care right now, "and tell my dad that I don't want him looking after me because, all those years that he didn't seem to care I was fine. It only seems that in the year when he has cared about me is when my life started to go for Shit, so if you don't mind i'm going to bed because I have a headache." I say as I feel my legs start to go, staring into the face of a significantly paled Hermes, I fell face first into the carpet and blacked out completely. 

When I woke up again for the second time in that night I woke up, but not in front of the toilet but in bed. Now awake and feeling slightly upset I sat up in bed and swivelled, and looked to the door and found it open I stood up quickly getting slightly light headed, and grabbing riptide, I went to speak but he held up a hand and stepped into the light. And what I saw in the doorway was man in silhouette, stained in blood and staring at me with an amused look on his face,

"So this must be the famous Perseus Jackson." 

And for the last time that night I felt my vision going and I felt myself eat carpet, again. 

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