Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Percy set the girl down on his bunk, her too-young face streaked with tears. Amber’s breathing was even and deep, but Percy knew that the realm of dreams would not always be so kind to her. She was a daughter of Hecate, most likely, but she was unclaimed, despite being fourteen. He sank to his knees on the floor, facing her as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. He sighed, feeling too old, yet too young. He was the furthest thing from inexperienced, he’d known he was a demigod for nearly eight years, but he still felt helpless, like that kid who was thrown into the divine world and was just told to deal with it. Every time a young demigod would come to him with their troubles, he felt just that much more helpless. He had fought wars for them, given everything for them, but the gods just wouldn’t listen. He asked for the minor gods to be recognized, for the children to be treated better, but still, it just wasn’t enough. Even if there were some gods who were better than others, it would never be enough.

He felt like he could go mad from it.

As much as he knew the gods were the lesser of two evils, he also knew that wasn’t a reason he should just lay down and take it. He avoided the thought with vigor, for his continued existence and his care for Apollo, but one look at the girl in his bed’s face made his resolve weak and the thought crept to the forefront of his mind: why leave them in power, why, when you know people who would make better rulers, why let them go unpunished, you could show them, you could take them down, all it would take would be one—

His thought couldn’t finish because all of a sudden, he was in front of three women who he recognized from that day that started it all. The Fates. Behind them, he could see the doors to the throne room of Olympus, but something was off. It wasn’t right, it looked like it was from before the Second Titan War, but how?

“Perseus Jackson. We see you have recognized where you are. Do you know why we are here?” The Fates said in eerie unison. Percy had a feeling it wasn’t because they just wanted to chat. The timing was too much of a coincidence, and when you’re a demigod, you learn pretty quickly that coincidences aren’t real. Everything happens for a reason and brushing something off as just a coincidence could get you killed.

“Yes. What are you going to do about it? You know I would never act against them. While my loyalty may not be to them, it is to their children and I’m not naive nor foolish enough to think acting on those thoughts wouldn’t get them killed or further hurt.”

“You have always been somewhat unpredictable. Even to us. If you found a way to act without the suffering of your kin, you would bring the gods to their knees.” Percy couldn’t exactly argue with that. Seeing that, the Fates continued. “That is why you are here. We cannot take that risk. You are to make the gods listen to those tapes you have recorded and make them see why they are wrong and what their actions will do.”

“I’ve been trying to do that for years now. Why do you think they’ll listen when they haven’t in the past?” He ignored the bit about the tapes because he was really hoping he wouldn’t have to.

“Because we are in it.” The Fates disappeared and all of a sudden, it’s like there was air in his lungs. The doors to the throne room opened of their own accord—or, more likely, of the gods’ accord—and Percy took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders, lifting his chin, and walking forward. The doors closed behind him and he felt shadows of his younger self as he walked through this familiar, yet forgotten room. He couldn’t help but feel something, seeing the old throne room and how different it was. Especially knowing that in a few years, it might be destroyed and forever stained with grief and the blood of his family. He noted that Hades was in the room, sitting next to Hestia at the hearth. He walked until he was a few feet away from the foot of Zeus’ throne and dropped to one knee.

“Do you know why I am here, Lord Zeus?” He asked, careful to keep the right amount of deference in his voice. These gods weren’t used to him, he had to tread carefully. He barely recognized Apollo, Artemis, Hermes, and Hades. At times, he forgot just how much had changed since the first time he stepped foot on Olympus. It just felt like nothing they did was significant.

“The Morai have informed us that you are their will and they shall speak through you. They have also issued a warning that we are to listen to you and heed your words lest we wish for our doom to come swiftly and painfully.” Zeus answered, clearly upset about what he was saying.

“My name is Percy and I’m a demigod from the year 2013.” He let the shock of that settle into them before continuing, voice slightly louder to be heard over the whispers from the council. “While I don’t think that things are as dire as the Fates say, it would be wise to listen to what I have to say. In the future, my past, you’ve made decisions that led to nothing but pain and suffering and nearly, your own downfall. Do not make the same mistakes as your counterparts.” There was a heavy silence after Percy’s words. After it seemed that they understood as much as they could, Percy broke the silence with a hesitant question. “What year is it?”

Athena spoke up. “It’s 2005.” Percy’s face went perfectly blank before he shook his head and chuckled bitterly. Of course.

“Is it the Winter Solstice?” His voice was flat and betrayed none of his turmoil.

“Yes, what does that mean, boy? What about this date is significant?” Zeus asked, a note of thunderous danger in his voice.

“Are the campers here?” He questioned, ignoring Zeus, instead looking to Dionysus.

“The brats will be here in a couple minutes.” He answered, looking vaguely intrigued. Percy sighed, thinking. Was this part of what the Fates wanted? Not just a lesson for the gods, but a warning for the children and a chance to take away Kronos’ key pawn? They could get a head start on the war… Kronos wouldn’t even know… they could let him think that Luke was caught and he would have to figure out a new plan while they made a plan of attack with the gods’ new knowledge. But would that be putting his eleven-year-old self in danger? What would happen if he died before fulfilling the prophecy? Would Percy as he exists now cease to exist? Or even worse, what would happen if Kronos successfully manipulated him this time and instead of Luke being his host, it would be Percy… that wouldn’t be good. Should he find some way to get to his younger self and—

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a bolt of lightning that he dodged before ducking and rolling away from another, uncapping Riptide as he went and erecting a wall of water that absorbed a third bolt which he turned to ice to get rid of the electricity, scowling as yet another strike of lightning hit it, shattering his shield. Before another could be sent, a shockwave spread across the floor, his father’s booming voice following soon after.

“Enough.” While Percy has never felt afraid of Poseidon, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a smidge of fear at the deadly calm command along with the raging seas in his father’s eyes. He wondered if this is what his fellow demigods saw when he led them into war. “Brother, halt your assault on the boy. He has done no wrong.” He waited until Zeus sat back down on his throne to continue. “Percy, are you my son?”

Percy ran quickly through his options. Tell the truth and die or lie and die. He didn’t like his odds. He readjusted his grip on Riptide before transforming his posture to look more relaxed, pulling his trademark troublemaker grin onto his face in a way that he knew looked natural. “What gave me away?” He asked, surveying the reactions to his confirmation. Mostly, it was muted shock, anger, and a healthy bit of fear. Right, the prophecy. How much could he even reveal about it without breaking time? He’s seen enough movies and heard enough of Annabeth’s theories to know that messing with time was not a good idea. He’d fought the Titan of it, for the gods’ sakes.

Poseidon looked taken aback by the question and Zeus looked even further incensed. The rest of the gods’ fear grew and Percy wondered what exactly he did. He felt just like he did when he was claimed after that capture the flag game… A trident made out of water about as big as his forearm drifted past him before promptly splashing to the ground as soon as he noticed it.

“Oh.” He said. Greek demigods need to use their powers pretty regularly or else they'll burn up, literally. It’s a release of the divinity in their veins every time they use their powers, so if they don’t use them for too long, the divinity in their godly blood builds until it overwhelms the mortal blood, burning the demigod up until they’re nothing but a husk. It’s why they’re so weak when they’ve used their powers in big ways or for a very long time without a break. Their godly blood, knowing it’s being drained of its divinity, compensates by making more, turning the demigod into something more divine than they can handle. Percy, being more divine than your typical demigod, has to release his divinity more often than most and can handle using his powers for longer durations and in bigger ways. This manifests into things like using his powers for small things, training with them more often than the others, and unconsciously releasing it when he’s distracted or deep in thought. He’d often been found by people with water circling him as he paced. “Well. Shit.”

Poseidon looked torn between reprimanding Percy for his language and laughing at his lacklustre reaction. Zeus, however, practically had smoke billowing out of his ears.

“Before Zeus tries to kill me again, I’d just like to remind him that he broke the oath twice. Plus, I didn’t raze Olympus to the ground. The Fates want me to teach and warn you, not kill you.” Percy drawled, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but his battle-ready stance and secure grip on Riptide contradicted him.

A few things happened. Poseidon turned on Zeus with a look that was both furious and triumphant, Hera shot up from her throne, finger pointed at her husband accusingly, Hades’ face contorted into one of pure, hateful rage, and Zeus got back up, taking three steps towards Percy whose guard was up and ready, Riptide in his right hand and left hand raised, eyes glowing bright green. Before anyone could actually get hurt, a note fluttered from about two feet above Percy, floating in front of him. Its sudden appearance made everyone stop in their tracks.

“It says that if you attack me, there’ll be consequences. I’m guessing that it’s from the Fates.” Percy said. As soon as he announced that, ten tapes fell from where the note did, floating in front of him. He recognized these tapes and groaned, hoping that the Fates hadn’t been serious about him showing these to the gods. He had recorded them for himself, not to play them to anyone.

A knock on the door sounded and Percy, suspecting who it was, used some water to open the doors, revealing Chiron who looked taken aback at seeing everyone gathered in the throne room, looking at him with wary eyes. Knowing that the Fates were somehow involved in Chiron’s appearance and therefore needing the centaur to be part of the impromptu lesson, he waved his free hand in a lazy greeting. “Hey Mr. Brunner.”

Chiron’s eyes widened, realisation striking him as he connected the dots. “Percy?”

“Chiron.”

“But… how could it be? You’re older and—is that Anaklusmos?” The teacher’s voice was incredulous and bewildered, no doubt wondering how in Hades Percy was there when his Percy was at Yancy, eight years younger and without knowledge of his godly heritage.

“I’m not your Percy. I’m from the year 2013 and the Fates sent me to this time to correct the gods’ mistakes before they completely screw it up.”

“Why you?”

“Yes, Percy, it would be foolish to assume that the Morai would send just any half-blood to do a task such as this. What makes you special?” Athena asked, looking as if she wanted to dissect him.

“Well for one, I’m probably the only one with the guts, authority, and stupidity to tell it to you straight and call you out. Everyone else is too afraid of you to actually tell you anything. I’m also the child of the Great Prophecy as well as one of the Seven, so I’m the most involved demigod you could get. I have the most amount of information as to how your actions and inactions affected us. I’ve been on the most amount of quests a demigod has ever been on and I’ve interacted with the gods more than probably any other demigod or mortal has, too. Plus the most obvious reason. I recorded these tapes,” he gestured to the ten tapes floating in front of him, “about my quests. My friends helped, too, for the parts that I wasn’t there for.” He left out the small fact that the Fates thought he might try to overthrow the gods if he wasn’t shown that they could redeem themselves.

Chiron opened his mouth, but Athena beat him to the next question. “What do you mean by one of the Seven?”

“Seven half-bloods shall answer the call, to storm or fire the world must fall.” Percy started.

Apollo finished the prophecy for him. “An oath to keep with a final breath, and foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.” He looked deeply troubled and Percy was reminded that this wasn’t his Apollo. It hurt. He looked away just in case Apollo noticed. “How old are you?”

“I’m almost twenty.” Percy replied, having an idea on why Apollo was so worried by it. “The Great Prophecy was obviously fulfilled when I was sixteen and the Prophecy of the Seven was fulfilled a year later.”

“What? That shouldn’t… that’s not how that should be happening. Great Prophecies are once in a lifetime type things, they shouldn’t be happening twice in one demigod’s lifespan, much less two times in as many years.”

“Yeah, your future self explained it to me once. He said something about how because the gods, specifically Zeus, prevented the prophecy from coming to pass for so long and the fact that they made and broke an oath on the Styx, the retribution was the Second Great Prophecy coming to pass sooner. Or that the second one happened when it was supposed to, but the first one was held back for so long, they ended up happening back to back. Or it may have been because the second one was triggered instead of happening naturally. We don’t even know if it actually happened since one line never actually came to pass.” Percy paused, feigning being deep in thought when he really just didn’t like deceiving them. What he said was technically true, at least as far as everyone else knew. Percy just knew better.

“He said that he wasn’t exactly sure, that nothing concerning prophecies was ever completely clear, even to him.” Percy explained. He remembered exactly how Apollo had paced back and forth in Percy’s apartment, emotions coming off of him in waves, talking about how odd Percy’s whole life was in relation to prophecies.

“The Prophecy of the Seven was triggered? That’s not how… who would be stupid enough to… but if a line never came to pass…” Apollo seemed lost in his own world, a frown marring his face as he questioned what exactly happened in the future and why prophecy had gone completely out of whack. He had seen glimpses of the future, heard whispers from his oracles and children and legacies with the gift, but nothing made much sense. As usual.

Percy broke Apollo from his thoughts when he started talking, pointing at one of the tapes that were floating up. “You’ll get all the answers you want if we listen to these.” He received acquiescence from the immortals around him and grabbed the tape he knew to be the first one recorded. Before he could press play, a note appeared in front of him.

“Before you start, summon Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Annabeth Chase, Lady Persephone, Lady Amphitrite, and Prince Triton. We will be bringing some additional guests as well.”

Percy dictated the note out loud to the gods and Chiron left to get his students while Poseidon and Hades left to get their families. As soon as everyone was back in the room, the rest of the Seven as well as Amber, (2013’s) Clarisse, Nico, Reyna, Will, Thalia, Grover, and 2013’s Apollo and Poseidon flashed in. Amber made a beeline towards Percy, throwing her arms around him, a wordless thank you for holding and consoling her as she cried. Apollo—his Apollo—did as well, swooping in for a kiss as soon as Amber let go. While Percy was pretty sure he should be protesting, their relationship status wasn’t exactly public after all, he couldn't find it in himself to. Not when he could taste the anxiety on Apollo’s lips, when the press of his body against Percy’s was a balm to frayed nerves and a reassurance for both of them.

“You have to stop getting kidnapped.” Apollo said when the kiss broke off.

“It’s not exactly in my control. And as long as I can count how many times I've been kidnapped on one hand, then it’s not really all that often.”

“There’s only one finger leftover.” Apollo deadpanned.

“Are you counting the one from my first quest? That doesn't count. I wasn’t technically kidnapped then.”

“No, are you forgetting the one with Hermes?”

“Oh, yeah, I did forget about that.”

There was silence before the room burst into confusion and chaos. Looking at everyone’s reactions to Percy and Apollo’s relationship, Percy couldn’t say he was surprised. Zeus looked enraged. Artemis was now examining both of them with an unnerving scrutiny. Hades just looked confused, as did the past demigods. The other Apollo looked intrigued. The rest of the gods just looked indifferent… except for Percy’s dad(s). The Poseidons looked conflicted as if they were staring at simultaneously the worst and best thing they could think of. 2013’s demigods (minus Amber, Will, and Piper) just looked too shocked to properly react. Amber and Piper, however, looked as if some things had clicked into place. Will just looked vaguely disgusted.

“Does everyone know what’s going on and why we’re here or do I have to explain everything again?” Percy asked before anyone could comment. He received positive answers all around. Hestia stopped him before he could press play with an apologetic smile.

“It seems as if there are a lot of tapes, so I think we should get comfortable.” She snapped her fingers and couches and armchairs and loveseats, even beanbags appeared in a circular formation with a space about ten feet in circumference. Everyone seemed to think that was a great idea and they all took their seats. Percy sat down with Apollo on a loveseat with a curved backing that was blue in colour.

The tape literally flew out of his hands, floating over to the centre of the circle where the other nine tapes still floated. They vanished while the one that remained started to glow and expand into a rectangle of white light before fizzling into colour. It revealed a much younger Percy sitting on a fire escape, knees drawn to his chest with that tape at his feet. The sounds of New York City started to surround the viewers and they could see and hear Percy sigh before taking a breath.

”People say that talking about things help, but there’s no one to talk to about this, so here I am. Talking to an inanimate object. I thought that recording it might help, just in case some other poor sap gets stuck in a godly civil war.” Twelve-year-old Percy's voice showed exactly how much he thought that would happen. That is to say, never. ”This is the story of The Lightning Thief.”

Chapter Text

“The Lightning Thief?” Zeus asked. The screen froze. Percy nodded, making eye contact with Luke for a split second. He felt the demigod’s heart race in his chest, knowing that he was caught. If he hadn’t already realised it from the way Thalia, Amber, Annabeth, Clarisse, and the gods were looking at him. Or very purposefully not looking at him. Percy took a moment to marvel at the weirdness of the fact that Amber didn’t actually know Luke. She was looking at him like he was some sort of legend, a very large dose of curiosity mixed with a healthy dose of fear. What he hated, though, was the understanding in her face of his motives. She had expressed similar concerns and feelings Luke had in the past. No demigod was ever left unscathed from the thoughts Luke had, they just never took it that far, not since the Second Titan War.

“Yeah, just keep in mind that it took about five or six years for me to get the full story—or most of it. There is only one real enemy here and that is not who I paint to be the villain in this tape. Do not act before you hear the whole story, no matter how much you want to.” Percy said. “Also, keep in mind that these are my thoughts and assumptions. Twelve-year-old, hurt, exhausted, and overwhelmed Percy is not a reliable narrator.”

“To be fair, it would probably have been impossible to be objective after this summer. While it may have been the easiest quest we’ve had, it was… emotionally, we were all messes.” Annabeth had a slight, sardonic smile as she put in her own thoughts. Everyone who had been there that summer agreed, shadows in their eyes.

The tape seemed to take that as its cue to continue and unfroze.

”It all started when I Accidentally Vaporized My Pre-Algebra Teacher.” Percy said this so casually that it almost didn’t register for some in the room, looking as if it was commonplace for things like that to happen.

Those less acquainted with Percy and his tendency to get himself into impossible situations looked confused, whereas everyone else looked amused or resigned.

Percy’s face was unusually grave as he sat up, wearier than any twelve-year-old ought to be. He looked up from his shoes where he had been fidgeting with his shoelaces, somehow making eye contact with the “camera” that he couldn’t have known about. ”Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.”

Some of the gods looked like they wanted to protest, but the mumbled agreements and “yeah, me neither” looks being passed around stopped them.

”If you’re listening to this by accident and start to think you might be one, my advice is: stop this tape right now. Believe whatever lie your parent told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.” His unusual stillness and lack of humor had those who had known him for a very long time (and even those who hadn’t) sitting up and listening. Even at twelve, he already held the beginnings of the command of a general and the graveness of a soldier.

“You know that wouldn’t have actually done anything, right? Monsters would have come for them soon enough.” Grover asked.

“Yeah, but it would have bought some time for them to just be another kid.” I wish I’d had that, he didn’t say. Everyone was already thinking it.

”Being a half-blood is dangerous.” Percy finally looked down, releasing the room from his gaze as he grimaced.

“Understatement.” Leo mumbled.

”It’s scary.” The room collectively decided to ignore the waver in Percy’s voice.

“Once again, understatement.” Leo stated, voice unconsciously growing louder in aggravation.

”Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.” Percy’s face and dryly sardonic voice gave the impression that he had experience with some of those painful, nasty ways.

This time, no one commented, allowing a moment of silence among the sounds of the city for the dead.

”If you’re a normal kid, listening to this and thinking it’s fiction, great. Listen on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.”

“You have to admit that a lot of our lives sound like fiction.”

“Wish it was.”

”But if you recognize yourself in these words—if you feel something stirring inside—stop listening immediately. You might be one of us.”

A small chant of “one of us, one of us, one of us,” started by Leo, broke out.

“You make it sound like a cult.” Reyna raised her voice to be heard over the din.

“Well, definitionally, we are.” Annabeth grinned. Once the chants died down, the tape played again.

”And once you know that, it’s only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they’ll come for you.”

“...That is extremely ominous.” Hazel said, looking a little unnerved. Frank pulled her to rest on his side. Percy just responded with a shrug.

”Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Is it your goal to build as much tension as possible?” Amber asked dryly.

“For who?” Percy raised an eyebrow at her.

“…I don’t know.”

”My name is Percy Jackson. I’m twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.”

Percy and Grover both made faces at the name of their former school. “Ugh. I hated that place.” Grover said.

”Am I a troubled kid?”

“Yes.” Was the general consensus of the room.

”Yeah. You could say that.”

Smirks went around the room, a gleam in everyone who knew Percy’s eyes. The gods who didn’t know him, however, felt a creeping unease of how exactly him being “troubled” would affect his actions.

”I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it,”

Apollo jolted, making a T with his hands, signalling for a time-out. The tape obeyed.

“Hold on a second, ‘short’ and ‘miserable?’ Now I know that you haven’t met me yet, but surely twelve-year-old you is exaggerating?” He was alarmed by the sheer negativity and resentment that was already in Percy’s voice. It was strange to hear from such a young face.

“This was filmed basically right after I got back home from camp, so I was still feeling pent up and extremely resentful and angry. I guess that kind of seeped through.”

Apollo uneasily accepted that as an answer, allowing the tape to continue.

”but things really started going bad in May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

Chapter Text

“We were there to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff. I know—it sounds like torture.”

Before anyone could reprimand him, Percy explained. “I was an eleven-year-old with ADHD being forced to, along with a bunch of other ‘troubled kids,’ sit in a place we had to be quiet in, listening to things we weren’t interested in.”

Most of the people looking indignant quieted their glares and closed their mouths.

“Most Yancy field trips were. But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.” Percy’s voice was dry and dark, contrasting the seemingly positive words. This did not bode well.

“Lesson one of being a demigod: never have hopes.” Annabeth said, grimacing.

Hestia frowned from her perch by the flames, but kept quiet.

“Any time you start to think ‘maybe we’ll make it,’ Fate has other plans.” Thalia added with the gravitas of someone who had been turned into a tree after thinking that exact thought.

“Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorised wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn’t think he’d be cool,”

Chiron gave Percy his patented Look (applicable for death-defying stunts and not doing your homework) while the others wondered who this man was and why he was being mentioned in such detail.

“but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armour and weapons,” Percy’s eyes had gotten bigger and a smile pulled at his lips.

“Were they real?” Annabeth asked, somewhat concerned. Call her a hypocrite, but eleven-year-old mortals shouldn’t be around artefacts and weapons.

Percy just shrugged and looked at Chiron who shook his head. “They were mock weapons made from plastic and styrofoam. I’m aware of the limitations of mortal children.” I’m painfully aware of the limitations of demigod children, he didn’t add.

“so he was the only teacher whose class didn’t put me to sleep.”

“Percy.” Annabeth chided.

Percy raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I was eleven. I hated school and I was in desperate need of some sleep. At least I paid attention in Latin.”

Annabeth pursed her lips but conceded that he did learn the most important things that Yancy could offer him.

“I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn’t get in trouble.”

The demigods winced.

“There it is again. The dreaded hope word.” Thalia deadpanned.

“Is it really such a problem?” Amber asked, somewhat confused. “I mean, I know we have some rotten luck and I’ve certainly felt the same way, but… it’s that bad?”

“Yeah. You weren’t around during the Wars, so it makes sense that it affected you less than it did us.” Percy said. “For those of us who were an active part of quests and the fighting, it felt like Fate was always against us.”

Nods went around the older campers while those from the past looked troubled.

“Quests?” Luke asked quietly.

Everyone from the future’s eyes shot to Luke despite the quietness of his query.

“Yeah. Quests.” Percy said eventually.

Luke nodded, eyes shadowed and jaw tense. Hermes looked troubled, eyes lingering on his son‘s face. When Luke looked up, Hermes looked away.

“Boy, was I wrong.”

No one looked surprised, more dismayed or resigned.

Percy sat up a bit, seeming awkward for a moment before he started speaking again, “See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon.” The word “accident” sounded very deliberately chosen, as if Percy had to think before he said it.

Grover choked. “You didn’t tell me about this.” He accused once he started breathing regularly again.

“Eh. I didn’t really feel a need to. We had our own adventures.” Percy gave him a meaningful glance.

Grover grimaced at the reminder of some of those adventures. A tattered and dirty wedding dress flitted across his thoughts and he shuddered.

“I wasn’t aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway.” Percy rolled his eyes, more bored seeming than upset.

“What were you doing with a cannon anyway?” Annabeth asked.

“I’m not sure. I just wanted to look at it and poked around a bit, but I guess I somehow fired it.”

“That’s so far from safe. Sounds cool though.” Amber had a gleam in her eye that no one but perhaps the Stolls would like.

“And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim.” A hint of a smirk pulled at Percy’s cheek.

“I have a feeling it was more enjoyable for you than your peers.” Chiron eyed young Percy’s face.

Percy smiled but didn’t respond. “Now that I think about it, it was probably the sharks who told me which lever to pull. I don’t see why my teacher would have let me near one, much less one that would drop us in.”

“And you couldn’t tell a shark’s voice from your teacher’s.” Clarisse deadpanned.

Percy shrugged.

“And the time before that… Well, you get the idea.”

“Exactly how many times did this happen? Apollo asked.

“At least once a year.”

Apollo nodded, brows furrowed. He didn’t like that.

“This trip, I was determined to be good.”

“You know that it wasn’t your fault, right? No matter how ‘good’ you were, you couldn’t control any of these circumstances.” Apollo said gently. He cocked his head to try to get Percy’s eyes on him. Percy was staring determinedly at his own face and didn’t reply. Apollo repressed a sigh. He knew Percy held too much guilt, but hadn’t known it was a long standing problem.

“All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.” Percy’s face twisted into one of disgust at the memory.

“Eww.” Nico said, thoroughly grossed out.

Thalia gave him a look. “You’re saying eww, Mr. I-have-McDonald’s-everyday?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t sound that bad.” Nico and Thalia gave Amber an incredulous look.

“Grover was an easy target.” Percy spoke frankly.

“Thanks Perce.” Grover deadpanned.

“He was scrawny.”

“Not anymore.” Percy said before Grover could feel further insulted. It was true, though. Years of quests and helping in fights had put muscle on them all.

“He cried when he got frustrated and he must’ve been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin.” One of Percy’s hands went to his own chin as if he were thinking of what it would look like on himself. His head was cocked and his brows furrowed. He shook his head a little before he finished his thought. “On top of all that, he was crippled.”

“This isn’t the nicest to your best friend, Percy.” Grover said.

“Hey, these are my unfiltered thoughts that weren’t supposed to be heard by anyone.”

“Is this a good indication of how everyone will be described?” Apollo asked, a little concerned. While he didn’t think his own description would be a problem, he hoped certain gods’ egos wouldn’t get bruised. Percy’s wince didn’t ease his worries.

“He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs.”

“What was the actual excuse for that? Like how did you get away with that?” Percy asked, suddenly curious.

“The Mist.” Chiron stated simply.

“Huh. It really does get you out of anything.”

“He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don’t let that fool you. You should’ve seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.”

Now it was Grover’s turn to receive Chiron’s Look.

“Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn’t do anything back to her because I was already on probation.”

“Probation?” Amber asked.

“Yeah, I had yelled at a teacher the week before, so I was already on my first warning.”

“The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip, but I wanted to kill her. I told Grover just as much.” Percy glared a little, obviously annoyed despite the time that had passed since it happened.

“I wouldn’t actually hit her or anything. I wasn’t the type of kid that got into physical fights before my first quest. Mostly, I yelled at people.”

“And knowing you, that was enough.” Annabeth said. Percy grimaced and nodded.

“‘It’s okay. I like peanut butter.’” Instead of Percy’s imitation of Grover, Grover’s voice rang out. “Grover dodged another piece of Nancy’s lunch.”

“Why do I sound like that?” Grover acted appalled.

“I’m sorry to say G-man, but that’s what you sounded like when we were kids.”

Grover cringed.

”‘That’s it.’ I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat.

‘You’re already on probation. You know who’ll get blamed if anything happens.’”

“Why would you be blamed?” Poseidon asked.

Percy looked at his father, having assumed that the gods wouldn’t say much from their lack of engagement. “That’s just the way it worked. Once you got a label or a mark on your record, it’s all you were seen as.”

Poseidon frowned, but accepted that answer.

“Looking back on it, I wish I’d decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. In-school suspension would’ve been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into.”

“It wouldn’t have changed much, but… a guy can dream.” Percy sighed. “This is where things start getting interesting.”

Everyone exchanged looks.

“And ‘interesting’ means…?” Apollo asked.

“This is attempt on my life number one.”