Heroes of Olympus: The Aftermath of War

FRANK

*Rick Riordan owns all of the characters*

FRANK KNEW THAT from the moment he saw the traffic jam, they were not going to arrive in the Big Apple by two hours, which Hazel thought would be enough time for them to get some snacks and fetch a churro or two before going to Central Park. Well, he didn't really want the churros; Frank just needed an apple.

The forms of Ares and Mars ceased arguing inside his head ever since the Athena Parthenos stood on Camp Halfblood, reuniting the god's life forces and possibly Frank's own mind. It was hard to think about an escape plan everytime the gods would yell,

"Kill him!"

"No! That boy is on my VIP list! Don't shoot!"

"Gargh! More blood!"

See, it wasn't easy being a son of the slightly crazy war god Mars/Ares. Frank thought he would go nuts just by hearing Coach Hedge shout, "DIE!". Well, he was wrong again. His father proved to be a much bigger, more terrible disaster when given the job as his conscience. He couldn't sleep aboard the Argo II when that happened. At least it was over now.

Fighting alongside his godly parent in Athens was very...overwhelming. Frank had proven himself worthy of Ares, his dad's original form, and his blessings throughout the journey, but slaying a giant with him was way over his to-do list. He didn't even expect them to help with the prophecy.

Piper was probably the most awesome, though. She fought the giant princess by herself (also including occasional shouts of encouragement from her mom, Aphrodite, who blocked the giantess's view with birds). Well, the goddess of love was all about poise, after all. Who could blame her?

Meanwhile, Ares was fighting like someone who thought that the giants were only dangerous stuff toys. He was really happy about smacking them in the head. Frank never saw his parent so overjoyed about killing something. The god acted like a super interactive and very hyper kid.

Those were good times, but possibly his worst one.

It was already 1 AM and they still hadn't reached the Big Apple. The honking of cars and the blinding bright lights were making him very dizzy and distracted. He couldn't take watch like this.

What Hazel estimated would take two hours of travel actually extended 'till 6 more. Was Father Time angry with them? Eh, the Romans rarely metioned that guy. Why did Frank think about the old dude in a cave now? He guessed it didn't matter anyway. Myths always curved and collided with other myths. It was their nature, like Roman and Greek and Norse Mythology. You just had to deal with it.

"And I cannot deal with more traffic jams," he mumbled, sighing.

Jules-Albert was on the Lamborghini's wheel for Mars-knows-how-long. Nico's undead chauffeur wouldn't sleep, talk, eat, or even rest. Was that what you felt like when you died? Because, well, all the zombie had been doing was drive and growl and drive and growl. He didn't even hate annoying drivers and cars. He was super chill for someone who looked like the cast of Walking Dead. And he winked at Frank. Weird.

It was a bit nice of Nico di Angelo to let them borrow his chauffeur gift from Hades, the god of the Underworld. Nico rarely showed kind gestures before, but he was kinda making up for it.

Most of the Hades Cabin kids, as he was told, were misjudged and feared so much that they didn't fit in anywhere. Little difference could be seen in Camp Jupiter. Hazel herself was a victim of discrimination. Frank too, though his godly parent was Mars.

The situation was different now that the Prophecy of Seven had been fulfilled. He and Hazel were no longer treated like trash by the other cohorts, and the Fifth gained a lot of respect nowadays, with Jason Grace going back and forth between camps and he as their Roman praetor. Their cohort's lost reputation was finally restored.

Well, being given the job of praetor was cool, but it was also very tiring and energy draining. Frank couldn't help but feel sorry for Reyna all those months, carrying the responsibility all alone, without a partner by her side. Now that Jason had appointed him as the new other praetor, he promised not to let her down in any way.

Jules-Albert growled as if he'd just heard all of this.

"Hey, buddy. Where are we now----OH MY GODS!"

Frank must've screamed so loud because he stirred up his friends and woke them up with sudden panic.

Piper's hair was really out of place, but she searched for her dagger anyway, dizzy though otherwise alert. Jason woke up somewhere between a snore and an "Oh!", which would've seemed funny, except for the fact that he already held his gladius tight. Hazel unsheathed her Cavalry Sword, her eyes enough to enable any monster to turn into Chihuahuas with the Mist's help. The four demigods each made their way out of the vehicle to see...actually, Frank didn't know how to describe what they just witnessed. Jules-Albert made a dissatisfied growl.

In front of them, a Titan about ten or twenty feet tall blocked the Lamborghini's way, one hand on his broom and another outstretched like a "Stop!" signal. His eyes and hair were pure silver, his clothes a tattered janitor's attire. A kitten rested on his shoulders, its purr almost loud enough to trigger an earthquake. A giant was standing behind him, his form pretty scary but otherwise he didn't mean to attack.

Jules-Albert honked at them.

"I AM BOB!" the Titan announced, waving at them in a kind-of friendly gesture. "I, Small Bob, and Damasen are looking for our friends!"