Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PART ONE

THE LIGHTNING THIEF

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"Through darkness and shadows that seek to deceive,

the spirit endures, never truly taking leave.

For legends never die and heroes remain strong,

Even when they've sung their final song."

From the found pages of the Histories of Perseus Jackson.

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The moment he saw the neon headlights barreling towards him, Percy Jackson knew he was dead. He heard the tires against the pavement - the sound skidding, sending the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline into the air. The car honked, but it was already too late even for Percy’s fast half-god reflexes.

Maybe it was Karma for destroying Gabe Ugliano’s car all those years ago after swearing he wouldn’t get a scratch on it. But the car came racing towards him like it was a bowling ball and Percy was a pin just waiting to get knocked over.

It was rather anticlimactic if he thought about it. Whenever he thought about dying (not that he imagined it a lot), he always envisioned he’d go out in a blaze of glory fighting to protect his friends and family. He’d never imagined it would be so quick and mundane. So… ordinary.   Of course, things would never go how he planned.

The moment the car made impact; he was filled with pain. Percy had felt pain before, but nothing had prepared him for the fire that burned throughout his body. It was like he was holding up the weight of the world all over again, only this time he knew he was dying. This time , he could feel that every single one of his bones had been crushed, and it was just his audacity and nerve keeping him conscious. No ambrosia or nectar could heal him. Not even the gods could save him now.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the blue sky above him. It was a cloudless day, the sun burning bright above him. The next thing he was aware of was the screams. All around him, he could hear yelling, and cars honking. He laughed, blood pouring from his lips and his chest heaved. It looked like he was going to be late for his first day of school. Typical. Just another school for him to get kicked out of.

The wreckage of the car was burning ahead of him, glass scattered across the cement streets. Smoke billowed all around him, filling his nose with ash. He saw a body strewn across the streets unmoving. Percy had seen enough death to know a dead body when he saw one.

He couldn't move – could barely even breathe. When he looked down, his eyes grew wide. Sticking out through layers of torn and bloody flesh his bone protruded gnarled and completely snapped. Would you look at that, he’d been impaled.

He would have thrown up if there was anything in his stomach.

Gods, he couldn’t breathe – couldn’t even think of anything except the burning pain permeating throughout his body.  He shouldn’t have been surprised he was hit by a car while crossing the street after all.

He was supposed to be meeting Annabeth for coffee before their first day of New Rome University. He’d stopped at a flower shop before and picked up a bouquet of daisies to surprise her with. Now, the flowers laid crumpled on the streets, the petals falling to the ground like confetti.

“I’m so sorry,” a voice yelled. “I didn’t see him. It was like he appeared out of nowhere.” That wasn’t true, Percy had waited for the walk light to turn green despite his New York instincts to jay walk across the street. 

“Someone call an ambulance!” Percy knew it wouldn’t help anything. “Someone help him!”

He was dying…After everything, it was a fucking car running a red light that killed him.

“I didn’t mean to,” the voice said again, but Percy wasn’t really paying attention. Everything hurt too much. “I didn’t see him, I swear.”

He heard more voices above him, but it sounded like they were underwater. What were they saying?

“Hey!” a man said, and Percy forced his eyes open to look up at him. “I’m Jake. I’m a doctor, you're going to be alright. Lucky for you I saw everything.”

Yeah, Lucky him. 

“What’s your name?” The man said. “We’re gonna get you out of here, an ambulance is on the way.”

Yeah, because that was reassuring. An ambulance was definitely going to help the half god kid who usually healed faster than a normal human. 

“Percy!” he heard another voice scream. He recognized that voice – knew it like the back of his hand. Annabeth. Gods, he didn’t want her to see him like this.

“You know this kid?” The doctor said, but Annabeth pushed him away before he could say another word. 

“Hey, wise girl,” he said. “Sorry I’m late.” His girlfriend slammed to her knees painfully, pulling him up into her arms. He winced as she moved him. Gods, why did it hurt so badly? Why couldn’t he die quickly?

“Miss,” the man said, and Percy could hear the fear growing in his voice. “You need to stand back so I can help him.”

“You’re useless,” Annabeth said. “You can’t help him.” 

“Excuse me,” the man said. “I can-”

Annabeth snapped her fingers, and the universe froze at her command - the mist bending to her will. Whenever Annabeth commanded the mist, Percy couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by her. She was a goddess, more beautiful than even Aphrodite. 

“You look alright here,” the doctor said, smiling down at them completely oblivious to the change. “Nothing a good night's sleep won’t fix.”

“Gods,” she said. “Do you have any ambrosia?” Her hands fell to the cuts on his body. If she could put the blood back into his body, Percy was sure Annabeth would have done it.

Percy looked down to his stomach where a giant shard of glass was sticking out of his stomach. “I don’t think any ambrosia is going to be able to fix me, Wise girl.”

“Don’t say that,” she cried. “Don’t you dare say that.”

He held her pale cheek in his hands, pulling her face towards him and kissing her gently. “It’s okay. We all knew it was going to end one day.”

“Perseus Jackson,” she snapped. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare leave me.”

“Never,” he said. “You know I’d never leave you.” It was true, he knew. Nothing, not even death – not even all the gods in the world would stop him from being with Annabeth Chase.

Her head fell to his forehead, her tears falling on his cheeks like rain. “I got you flowers,” he said. “A whole Bouquet - Daisies.”

She laughed, tears still falling. “I hate daisies.”

He smiled at her. “I know. I thought it would be funny.”

“Just hang on a little longer, Okay?” Annabeth said. “You’ll be okay. I know you will. You always are.”

He nodded at her, even though he could feel himself fading - feel himself growing colder as every second passed. He didn’t have much longer.

“Annabeth-“She kissed him, stopping him from saying anything more. They’d kissed before – okay, a lot before. But it had never been like this. This wasn’t just a kiss for good luck – this was a goodbye and they both knew it.

If he could put all his words unsaid and said into a single kiss, then he would try. He put all the pain, happiness, and all his love into that one simple touch, willing her to know just how much he really loved her.

“Help him!’ Annabeth yelled up to the sky, pleading to the gods whom he knew would never answer. “Please!”

Almost in response, lightning crashed against the clear sky, sending fountains of colors all around them. The sky opened up, and rain poured down from the heavens, drenching them in moments. 

“Please,” Annabeth sobbed. “Please.”

He could hear the ocean roar in his ears, pulling him to rest - sinking him to the oblivion of its depths. He could hear birds chirping - hear the liliting song like voices of people who had long since been buried under the greedy earth. 

He didn’t want to…He didn’t want to go.

Perseus Jackson died, the fates snipped their cord, and Olympus wept.

Looking back, Percy wasn’t sure why he was surprised something dramatic would happen. Something dramatic always happened to him. But, Dying and then waking back up was something new, even for him.

He was first aware of the creaking – back and forth, back and forth. It was like someone was pacing, burning their soles into the ground with how heavy their footsteps were. Gods, he had a headache and the only thing he wanted them to do was stop moving for three seconds.

When he forced his eyes open, blinding light poured into his vision. It was so bright that for a moment he thought he was gazing up at the visage of a god. But, when his eyes adjusted to the light, he found that he wasn’t looking at a god, instead, he was back at camp half blood.

The familiar infirmary greeted him, and he smiled. Was Elysium camp? If so, he wouldn’t be so angry about it. He smiled at the same aged hardwood floor, the same uncomfortable beds, and smells. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he really missed the place. He had barely been the past few years, and everything had been happening to him so quickly that he hadn’t realized how he felt.

But the camp was never the same after the war. There were too many new faces that looked up to him like a hero and not like a friend. And then, there were those that were missing – all the people that he had lost along the way.

“You drool when you sleep,” a familiar voice said, and if Percy wasn’t already dead, he probably would have died again when he heard the familiar voice. It was Annabeth, but…it also wasn’t.

She had the same golden hair, the same gray eyes and tanned physique. But this girl was younger – several inches shorter without the scars of their past, the gray streak to show their age. No, this girl looked like Annabeth had de-aged back to her twelve-year-old self.

What the Fuck?

“What did you say?” he asked. “That’s not- “

“You drool in your sleep,” she said, this time even more earnestly. She pointed to his mouth. “Right there.”

What the literal fuck?

“This is a dream, right?” he asked. “It must be. There’s no way.”

The young girl narrowed her eyes at him in such a familiar way that he almost lost his mind. “Did you hit your head too hard?”

“Yes,” Percy said, remembering how his head crunched on the cement when the car hit him. “But that’s not the point. Is this a dream? Am I dead?”

“Are you crazy?” the girl asked. “You must be crazy.”

Percy shrugged his shoulders. “Probably. Most likely.”

“I should get Chiron,” Annabeth said. “He’ll want to know that you aren’t…okay.”

“Yes,” Percy rolled his eyes. “Tell Chiron to clip clop over here. I’m sure he can fix everything.” He had to have been dead, right? There was no other explanation.

“What did you say?” the girl asked, staring at Percy like he had just been turned to stone by medusa.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just go get Chiron. I’m sure he can figure all of this out.” He couldn’t.

“ Right,” she said, nodding slowly at him. She turned away from him, leaving him alone with only his thoughts, which never was a good idea.

What the hell was happening?

Looking at the weird young version of his girlfriend, he realized how young he had been all those years ago. How could Zeus have thought that he had stolen the lighting bolt at his age? He was a child after all. He hadn’t realized just how much of a child he had been until now.

Before Annabeth could come back with Chiron he tore off the blankets to see himself. There were no broken bones, no gashes - his skin was perfect…too perfect. Something else wasn’t right, all of the scars and muscle he had gained over the years was gone. Instead, the body he had was as flimsy as a twelve year old. That couldn’t be possible could it?

Was it possible that he wasn’t dead, but that he was- 

He ran his hand over the unfamiliar healed skin of his arm, staring at it with disbelief. He ran his hand through his untamable hair pulling it down in front of his eyes. He was shocked to find the familiar gray streak he got when he was fifteen was gone. 

No, that wasn’t possible. It was ridiculous, and Percy had seen a lot of ridiculous things in his life. He had seen his friend take out a titan with a blue plastic hair brush. He’d seen creatures with a hundred arms, and witches who could turn heroes into guinea pigs. But this? Time travel? No, time travel wasn’t possible. 

He heard the familiar tell-tale clatter of hooves on the aged wooden floor and Chiron came into the room in all his centaur glory. “Perseus,” Chiron said, looking down at him with something close to pity. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a car,” he said. “And died.” 

“You’re not surprised?” Chiron asked, looking at him with narrowed eyes that bordered on suspicion.

“Not much surprises me,” Percy said. “Tell me what to be surprised about and I promise to put on my best performance.”

“I’m a centaur,”

Percy rolled his eyes. Honestly, what was happening? “Obviously,”

“You’re a demigod,” Chiron said, and Percy couldn’t help but feel completely confused.

“Really?” he said. “I had no idea.”

“I know this all rather terrifying and new Percy,” Chiron said. “But there is no need to be rude. What happened to you is terrible. I am sure you are still reeling at the news of your mother.”

His mother? Oh…Right. In dream was somehow reenacting the days before he first got to camp. So, Chiron must have been referring to his mother, and that’s why he must have been confused about him not reacting to being a centaur. Honestly, it was making his head hurt far too much. He’d prefer bathing in the Styx to this any day.

“She’s really gone?” Percy asked, putting on the best performance of his life. “I mean this isn’t a dream and you're a really weird, deformed horse man thing.”

It wasn't a dream?

“I’m a centaur, Percy,” Chiron said, and his eyes softened. “You're taking this surprisingly well.”

“Well, I killed a minotaur yesterday, and my best friend is a goat - so I guess you can be a horse.”

Chiron nodded grimly at him. “You’ve met a terrible fate. One I wouldn’t wish on anyone.” His life was one giant terrible fate, but he didn’t need to tell Chiron that - he was sure the man already knew.

If only Chiron knew. If only he knew how terrible his fate had actually been.

“Let's go for a walk,” Chiron said. “You could probably use it I’m sure.”

When Percy pulled off the covers and got up onto his legs he knew it couldn’t be a dream. The wood felt too real - too solid under his feet. He could feel his small legs tiring already as if he had just run a mile. 

“You alright, Percy?” he heard Chiron say, but he really wasn’t paying attention. If this wasn’t a dream….

Shit. He time traveled…

Was he alright? How could he be? 

“Percy!” he heard chiron say again, albeit much louder. 

Percy snapped his head up to his mentor, and tried to control the rapid beat of his heart. Chiron’s face was growing more worried as the seconds passed, the lines on his face sinking deeper into his face. 

“I’m alright, Chiron,” Percy said. He wasn’t “I could just use some fresh air.”

Chiron nodded at him slowly but Percy knew he didn’t believe him. Hell, Percy didn’t even believe himself. 

“Follow me,” Chiron said. “I’ll show you around camp?”

“Camp?” Percy asked, pretending to be completely oblivious. If he was honest with himself, it wasn’t that hard.

Chiron smiled at him warmly, and Percy smiled back wide and toothy. He opened the large doors of the Big House. They swung open, filling the room with the familiar scent of strawberries and summer. 

“Welcome to Camp Half- Blood.”

Percy was home…Kind of.

Chapter Text

The first thing Percy noticed when Chiron opened the door of the big house was Charles Beckendorf. Charlie who should have been dead, who Percy knew was dead. But, instead of being buried - lost at sea-  he was lounging on a picnic table tinkering away at some weird contraption that Percy couldn’t even pretend to understand.

He felt his heart seize up - a deep sadness overcoming him when he thought of the older councilor who had perished all those years ago on the Princess Andromeda. 

The boy had been his friend, and was one of the first campers lost during the titans war. It still haunted him. Every single time he closed his eyes he could see the ship blowing up with Charlie along with it. 

“Percy,” Chiron said. “This is camp-half blood. A refuge for demigods. You know what demi-gods are, yes? You remember from our lessons?”

Percy nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the young camper. “Yeah. Children of the gods. But, what does that have to do with me?” Honestly, Percy missed his calling as an actor.

“Percy,” Chiron said, as serious as could be. “While your mother is a human - your father is a god.”

“A god?” he asked. “What? Like Jesus?”

“No,” Chiron said, laughing warmly and deeply, “ But, Jesus was a demigod. A son of Zeus, if I remember correctly.” 

“Oh,” Percy said, acting as dumb as humanly possible. “Well…which one is my father then. I’d like to talk to him.

Chiron looked solemnly at Percy like he was already planning his funeral. He wondered if the man already knew who his father was. It would have made everything easier and saved him a lot of time if the Centaur just told him. 

“Percy,” Chiron said. “It’s not a simple matter unfortunately. The gods don’t always claim their children.”

“Well that’s stupid,” Percy snapped. “The least they can do is pay their child support.”

Chirons face grew grim, years of worry suddenly appearing on his face all at once. “Those are dangerous words Percy.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “The most honest and truthful of words usually are.”

“Percy,” Chiron said, shaking his head.  “Follow me. I have someone I think you’d like to see.”

They walked on the porch of the big house, the wood creaking as they moved. He looked back at Charlie who sat on the bench so much younger, and so much happier than Percy had ever known him to be. What he wouldn’t do to save him this time around.

 He was surprised how wobbly his legs were with every step he took. His small body was still reeling from the attack with the minotaur and that small issue with him dying. 

In the distance he could see the glittering water, the Greek architecture and cabins. Home , he was back home. No matter what time he was in camp half blood would always be his home.

Suddenly, the image of camp on fire - monsters roaming freely, killing anyone who got in their way- flooded his mind. He had to make sure that didn’t happen. He needed to protect camp. He needed to protect his home. 

All of the pain in his body went away the moment he saw the sight of Mr. D playing pinnacle with grover. 

Grover looked like he was losing terribly. His hair was in disarray, and he was picking at his nails under the table. It was a habit he had grown out of after the war. 

“Grover!” Percy yelled when he saw his best friend walking towards them. Without thinking, he ran towards the satyr throwing his arms around him, in the biggest hug he’d ever given the kid. Grover was holding a shoe box and he almost dropped it when Percy launched himself at him. 

“Hey Percy,” the satyr said, hugging him back. “You okay?”

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you Grover,” Percy said, smiling widely. “It’s good to see you.”

Grover looked over to Mr. D who was watching the whole reunion rather boringly, drinking a can of Diet Coke that Percy wished was wine. He definitely could use a drink. “Percy, this is-”

“Dionysus,” Percy said before he could think better of it. “You’re the god of wine.”

“Percy-”

“Have we met?” the god asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Umm, no…sir.”

“You're right, I would have remembered someone as stupid as you,” the god said, his eyes scanning him. “Names are powerful things. You don’t just go around using them. Call me Mr. D or I might just snap my fingers and turn you into a dolphin.”

That didn’t sound too terrible of an idea. At least then he’d finally be able to get some semblance of peace. 

Grover leaned against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a shoe box.that Percy knew hid the minotaur horn. 

"You saved my life," Grover said. "I... well, the least I could do ... I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this." Reverently, he placed the shoe box in his hands. Inside was a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood. Gods, he hadn’t thought about the horn in so long. 

 "The Minotaur," he said, remembering the past with a small touch of nostalgia. He had been so young when he fought the beast all those  years ago. At the time, he had thought that it would be one of the hardest monsters he’d ever have to face. It was funny how wrong he was. 

"Urn, Percy, it isn't a good idea-" 

"That's what they call him in the Greek myths, isn't it?" he demanded.

"The Minotaur. Half man, half bull." Grover shifted uncomfortably. 

“Names, Johnson,” Mr. D said from his chair. 

He rolled his eyes, “It’s Jackson.”

“I heard you the first time,” Mr. D said, taking a sip of his diet coke.

“Did you though?”

"You've been out for two days, “Grover quickly interrupted. “How much do you remember?"

“I remember that it’s not your fault, grover. I can remember that much. It's not your fault my mother disappeared. Don’t blame yourself.” Disappeared he said. Because he couldn’t bring himself to say his mother was dead when he knew she wasn’t.

Grover's body immediately relaxed. "I'm sorry," Grover sniffled. "I'm a failure. I'm-I'm the worst satyr in the world." 

He moaned, stomping his foot so hard it came off. I mean, the Converse hi-top came off. The inside was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole. 

"Oh, Styx!" he mumbled. Thunder rolled across the clear sky. As he struggled to get his hoof back in the fake foot.

“Grover,” Percy said, this time stronger so that the boy had no room to think otherwise. “It is not your fault. Do you understand? The only person at fault is the person who sent the minotaur after us.”

Thunder crackled in the sky.  Percy rolled his eyes and looked up to the sky. “Oh, stop being so dramatic.”

Chirons head snapped at him, and Mr. D started laughing from his chair. “As much as I enjoy it, you can’t tell the king of the gods to stop being dramatic.”

He shrugged.  “I just did.”

Grover looked over to him like had lost his mind completely. Maybe Percy had. He honestly didn’t care about Zeus throwing a hissy fit every time he said a person's name.

"Mr. D," Grover asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?" 

"Eh? Oh, all right." Both Mr. D and Chiron were looking at him strangely. They stared at him as if they could see into his very soul.

If the two men noticed something different about Percy, they didn’t say. He was sure he was different - held himself in a different way than he did as a child. He was sure the two immortals also had noticed that he hadn’t reacted as he should hearing about gods and monsters. 

He’d have to do a better job if he didnt want them to know about who he really was.

 Maybe, the gods had finally listened to him. Maybe, he was sent back to actually fix all of the things that had happened in his life. Percy had an opportunity now to save everyone. Charlie wouldn’t have to die, neither would Luke, Silena, or Jason. 

Grover bit a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chewed it mournfully.

"I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment." 

Grover's face beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir." 

Mr. D turned to him. "Cabin eleven, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners."

Percy looked the god in the eyes. He guessed, he couldn’t let the man know who he was, but that didn’t mean he would bow down to the man. No, he was Percy fucking Jackson and he deserved some respect.

“It wasn’t Grover’s fault,” he said again. “ You know it wasn’t”

The god blanched at him. "Would you like to test me, child?" he said quietly. “I’ve killed heroes for less, you know?

And I've killed Titans, Percy thought. 

Before he could respond, Chiron quickly ushered him out of the porch. It was a pity, he would have decimated the man. 

The centaur looked at Percy with worry, something Percy was all too familiar to see on the man’s face. “Be careful, Perseus. You don’t want a god as an enemy.”

“I already have a god as an enemy,” Percy said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Who do you think sent the minotaur after me?”

The clouds opened up and started pouring in the camp. Percy laughed. Really?

All around them, kids screamed grabbing their bags, running to their respective cabins while Zeus threw his temper tantrum. 

“Percy,” Chiron warned. “It may seem brave but do not throw around names lightly. "Come along, Percy," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. "Lots to see.” It amused Percy greatly that he had never been able to see through the man when he was younger. 

Chiron showed him around camp, and Percy had to pretend like he didn’t know the place like the back of his hand. Every time he saw someone who had died in the past, his heart ached. 

He almost sobbed when he saw Michael Yew alive and not sweat away in the Hudson. He almost had a mental breakdown when he saw Clarrise chatting away with Silena on the edge of the sparring field. 

He wouldn’t let them die this time around - he couldn’t . Even if it killed him in the end, he’d make sure things were better this time around. 

"Oh, look," he said, pointing out Annabeth who was sprawled out on the steps of the Hermes cabin reading a book on ancient Greek columns. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have a masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?" 

She didn’t look up from her book, making Percy’s smile grow wide. "Yes, sir." 

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told him, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Percy looked in with disgust when he saw the sight of all the unclaimed kids crammed in the small cabin like a can of sardines. At the least, the gods should have renovated the place so everyone got a place to sit. 

 "Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner.”

“You have a terrible poker face,” Annabeth said the moment Chiron trotted away. “At the very least you could pretend not to be disgusted.”

“I'm not disgusted,” Percy said. “I’m just sad. All of those kids, and they’ll never know who their godly parent is. It’s not fair.”

“You sound like Luke,” Annabeth said, and wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not.

Hearing Lukes name filled him with something he couldn’t explain. Right, this was the moment he had met Luke. What would he say to him? Would he be able to pretend that everything that had happened hadn’t? Was it in his past? Or maybe his future? Gods, his head hurt. 

He tripped on the way in just like last time. It seemed even time couldn’t change his godforsaken clumsiness.

Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven.”

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.

“Undetermined,” Percy said, even though he knew he was the son of poseidon.

 Everybody groaned. Percy couldn’t blame them. 

Percy saw a streak of blonde hair, familiar eyes, and a face with a scar running the length of it. He tried to calm himself, and the rapid beat of his heart. But, no matter what he did it continued to hammer irrationally in his chest. 

Luke walked forward. “Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."

"This is Luke," Annabeth said, a blush forming on her face. Gods, he had forgotten how mini Annabeth had a crush on Luke. If the guy hadn’t been nust betraying them, Percy probably would have understood.

Percy tried to relax, but it was taking all of his will power not to punch Luke in the face. Here he was - he could kill him so quickly. He could end everything before it began. But, if he did kill him, who's to say he wouldn’t make everything worse?

He was just a kid - only sixteen. Maybe…Maybe Percy could change him, and stop him from joining Kronos’s side. 

Percy stuck his hand out to the man who had caused him so much pain. “It’s nice to meet you, Luke. I’m Percy Jackson.”

 She saw him looking, and her expression hardened again. "He's your counselor for now."

“You’re gonna love it here,” Luke said, smiling at him with such sincerity Percy almost believed it. “Really, we're all a family here. And, the family looks out for each other.”

They also backstab you and try to kill you with scorpions from the depths of hell apparently. 

“That sounds great, Luke. But, It won’t be for long,” Percy said. “My father will claim me soon.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re cocky. That's not a good trait for a demigod.”

“It's confidence,” Percy said. “ I know he will.”

“A lot of kids go unclaimed by their parents, Percy,” Luke said. “It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

Percy almost laughed. “I’m not ashamed, Luke. If my father doesn’t claim me, that's his problem - not mine. I know who I am, and I don’t need some god to change that. He could never claim me - never even talk to me, and it wouldn’t change a thing. I’d still be his son.”

“It sounds like you know who he is,” Luke said, narrowing his eyes. “Do you?”

“Of course not,” Percy said, the lies burning on his tongue. “But, he’s half of me, and I’m half of him. That has to count for something.”

“Trust me kid,” Luke said, and for the first time, Percy caught a glimpse of the hardened boy he would become. “Don’t count on them for anything.”

How had Percy not noticed the bitterness in Luke before he betrayed him? It was so obvious - practically tattooed on his face. 

“Percy,” Annabeth said, looking between the two like they were playing the world's most interesting game of ping pong. “I haven’t shown you the volleyball court yet.”

“Yes you have, Annabeth,” Percy said, his eyes never leaving Lukes. “Besides, you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.” Again, lie. Most volleyball nets didn’t have a mechanical dragon that threw fireballs at you while you played. 

“It was nice to meet you,” Luke said. “You're an interesting kid.”

“I’m told I have an issue with authority,” Percy said, smiling up at him. “...sorry.”

Luke smiled at him. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

Chapter Text

Percy twisted and turned, but Annabeth would not let go of her death lock on his wrist. She pulled him out of the Hermes cabin like there was a Hydra inside and not just Luke Castellan. Not that Percy thought there was much of a difference.

“What was that, Jackson?” she asked. “Honestly, what was that?”

“Sorry?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders. “I really didn’t mean to offend anyone. 

She blew out a  breath of air, holding her nose in her hands. “Well you did. You offended a lot of people. You’re lucky Luke is a nice person. Gods, you sounded so cocky.”

Luke? A nice person? Ha. 

“I can’t afford not to be, Annabeth,” he said, and he meant it.

She looked up at him weirdly. “What do you mean by that?

“Listen,” he said. “I haven't known about this world for long. But already I can tell it's dangerous. I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up murdered before I’m even sixteen. So, I can't afford to doubt, and I can’t afford to second guess myself. In the seconds I use to overthink something - I’m dead. I don’t want to die, Annabeth.”

She was quiet for a moment, looking up at him like he had grown a second head and sprouted wings. “You’re smarter than you look, you know?”

“How hard was that for you to spit out?”

She rolled her eyes, “Tell anyone, and I’ll deny it.”

He smiled at her, he hoped it wouldn’t take him years to become her friend this time around. “Truce? I promise, there isn’t just kelp in my head.”

“Kelp?” she asked. “I think I like the sound of that. Kelphead .”

Percy panicked for a small moment. Of all the things he had wanted to change, this was not one of them. “I actually think seaweed is better. Not as derogatory, if you ask me. Seaweed brain has a ring to it.“

She shook her head. “Nope, kelp head. Seaweed brain suggests you have a brain and I know you don’t.”

“Rude.”

“Well! A newbie!” he heard the voice of Clarisse yell, and Percy audibly groaned. He didn’t like his head being swirled around in a toilet the first time around and he had a feeling he was going to hate it even more the second time. That is…if he let Clarisse do it. 

Clarisse and her siblings didn’t look at all that terrifying. 5 '4 but well muscled, Clarrise still looked every inch the child she was. 

It would be so easy for him to just fling the girl across the room with his powers like a ragdoll. But…This Clarisse - this small girl who had yet to grow into herself didn’t deserve that. She deserved a chance to grow into the person Percy knew she would one day be. 

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?" 

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

 ''Erre es korakas!" Annabeth said which was Greek for ‘go to the crows’. Points for creativity but it wasn’t all as terrifying as she intended it to be.

“Boreís na stamatíseis?” Percy said, without thinking. Gods, those two were so annoying. Why couldn’t they just get along?

“Did you just?” Annabeth said with her mouth hanging open..

“Did you just tell us to stop, shrimp?”

“I said, Can you stop?   There’s a difference.”

“No,” Annabeth said. “Not really. And since when can you speak ancient greek?”

“I’m a demigod,” Percy said. “Of course, I can speak ancient greek.”

“You’ve known you were a demigod for all of five seconds, kid,” Clarisse said. Well, she wasn’t wrong…technically. “I can’t even speak it that well, and I’ve known for years.”

“I had a good teacher. I’m a quick study?” he said, and he hoped they would buy it. Honestly, Percy was a bad liar. He was surprised he’d even made it this far. 

“I’m gonna pulverize you,” Clarrisse said. “How quick do you think you can study that?”

“That was probably the worst comeback I’ve ever heard,” Percy said. “And trust me, I’ve heard them all.”

“Clarisse—” Annabeth tried to say.

“Stay out of it, wise girl,” he said. “Thank you but It’s okay, I can do this.”

Annabeth looked pained, but she did stay out of it, and Percy didn’t really want her help. He was going to enjoy embarrassing Clarisse for everything she had ever done. 

He handed Annabeth the minotaur horn. Just like last time, Clarisse made a break to grab him, but he was expecting it. Quickly, he darted out of her way.  

“That the best you can do?” 

“Percy—“

Clarrisse came charging at him again, and though Percy didn’t have his sword, he didn’t need it. He quickly sidestepped, and pushed Clarisse, using her speed to send her to the ground. 

Behind him, a group of her lackeys appeared and grabbed at his windbreaker. 

“Oh come on,” Percy said. “Make this a fair fight. Me and you, Clarrisse. Give me a sword.”

“Percy, that’s not a good—“

“Bring it,” Clarrisse said. Her friends let go of his jacket, and Clarrisse jumped up from the ground. “I’m warning you Jackson. I’m one of the best fighters here.”

“Then, this shouldn’t be a problem for you,” he said. “I’ve never even touched a sword before now.”

“Fine,” she said. “Someone, hand him a sword.”

One of her siblings unwillingly gave him a short sword. He moved hit between his hands like second nature,  testing the weight of the weapon - the celestial bronze cold to the touch. It would do. It wasn’t Riptide but he would have to manage until Chiron gave it to him. 

He twirled it around for a few seconds, and then pointed it at Clarisse - the sword an undaunted horizon. “You ready?”

Clarisse narrowed her eyes at him, lifting up her spear. “Say a prayer to whoever you think your father is. I doubt he’ll answer.”

He smiled. “Trust me. I don’t need his help.”

He charged immediately, catching the girl off guard. Much to Clarisse’s credit, she recovered quickly, twirling her spear to meet his sword. The sounds echoed through the camp - metal banging against metal. 

A few campers noticed the fight and stopped what they were doing to watch. They wouldn’t have much to watch. If Percy wanted to, he could end the fight in seconds. But what was the fun in that?

He began to toy with Clarisse, missing some of her attacks but moving quickly out of the way so she wouldn’t hit him. He didn’t want everyone to think he was too good at combat. It wouldn’t make sense for a twelve year old with no training to hold out very long. 

Clarisse was growing frustrated. Everytime she clearly thought she had an opening, Percy would dart out of the way, just missing him by inches. Her swings became erratic as she stuck out. 

Percy always found that the real battle was never won by swords. No, he had always been able to defeat monsters in the mind first. Once he figured out what made them tick, they were done for. What kept Clarisse going? Pride. That Pride made her angry and rash which made her make mistakes. 

Shit, out of the corner of his eye, as he ducked and parried, he noticed an audience had begun to form. He saw Chiron watching everything with a blank face. Even Mr. D and Luke were there watching at full attention. 

“Remember,” Chiron said from the sidelines. “No maiming.”

Clarisse slashed her spear at his stomach, but Percy quickly jumped out of the way. Losing no time, he danced around her, hitting her side with the blunt end of the sword.

“Stop playing, Jackson!

“But, Why?” he asked. “This is so much fun!

Percy saw what was coming moments before Clarisse herself decided what to do. She twirled the spear around the sword, hoping to get him to drop it. Percy purposely let his hand go slack, the sword flying out of the air, landing at Luke’s feet.

He smiled at Clarisse, as she looked at him in triumph. “See, Jackson,” she said. “I told you, you couldn’t win.”

He rolled his eyes. “Who said the fight was over?”

Running, he jumped, rolling to the ground behind Clarisse. His hands tightened around the pommel of his sword and he hoisted up the sword, pointing it at the girl. “I’m just getting started.”

Clarisse yelled, and ignited her spear. Sparks went flying, and for a moment she reminded him of Jason. Jason, the son of Zeus who had died even after everything he had gone through. With a flick of his wrist, and a toss of his coin, Jason became a deadly fighter stronger than the most dangerous of monsters. 

“Clarisse,” he heard Chiron yell. “No magic. Percy’s never even held a sword before.” But Clarisse wasn’t listening - too lost in her rage to pay the centaur any mind. 

“Clarisse!” Chiron yelled again, but she charged.

The muscle memory and years of training took over before Percy could react. He met Clarisse attack head on, and kicked out, hitting her in the stomach. She stumbled backwards but kept on approaching.

He felt himself retreat into the part of him that was born for battle. The comfortability of that feeling - the second nature - was so easy to get lost in. He squared his shoulder, and tightened his jaw. He was done playing. 

Clarisse’s eyes grew wide, scanning him for a moment. Maybe, she had realized the change. The sudden tension in the air - the storm that seemed to swirl around Percy. 

He felt the familiar tug in his stomach as he reached out the water around him. The lake was far away, but that didn’t stop him. There was water everywhere if you knew where to look. 

Reaching his hand out, he pulled water from all around him - from the grass, from the water coolers by the courts and from the sweat on his skin. Thousands of droplets rose up in the air, like rain was being sent back up to the heavens from once they came. 

“Percy–” he heard Annabeth say. 

But, Percy was already washed in a sea no longer willing to be restrained. He focused mind, and all at once, let go. The water fell towards Clarisse, pelting her in an onslaught of rain. This time, with control and years of experience he managed not to drench Annabeth or anyone else who was watching.

He stood up, feeling stronger than he had in a long time. His legs wobbled, but there was a pulse of energy singing through his body. He felt electric. 

“Percy–” Someone said. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and jumped back, his hand out ready to–

“Perseus,” a voice roared above the rush in his ears. 

What happened? Where was he? 

When he really looked at who was behind him, he lowered his hand, the panic receding. It was Chiron. 

His eyes blazed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know–”

Everyone was silent, staring at Percy in disbelief. 

Annabeth said, “How did you...” 

“I don’t know.” He looked to Chiron who looked like his worst fears had been imagined. Luke’s jaw was tight, and Percy could see that small spark of resentment pulsing deep within his veins

“The water–”

“Did you see that?”

“He controlled it–”

All around him he could hear the whispers from the campers. 

Shit, had he just— Why did he do that? He lost control. He shouldn’t have let them see what he could do.

Clarisse was  sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse’s hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping, but all around her, the sand was completely dry.  She gave Percy a look of absolute hatred. “You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead.”

Percy smiled at her. Some part of him wanted to put her in her place. But looking at her sprawled out on the ground - water dripping from her hair - he realized just how young she was. In hindsight, their petty fights were meaningless. There were far more important things. 

He reached down towards her, offering her his hand. She stared at it like was holding a bomb and not a symbol of peace. 

“Percy?” Annabeth said. “Are you alright?”

He smiled up at Annabeth, his hand still extended out towards Clarisse. “Yeah.” He looked back down at Clarisse. “You alright? I’m sorry I went a little overboard. You freaked me out. Your kinda badass.”

Slowly but surely, Clarisse reached out her hand, and Percy helped her up from the ground. “You’ll have to teach me that move,” he said. “The one with the spear. I was sure I was a goner.”

“Jackson,” she said. “You're the strangest kid I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you,” he said. “You're probably the scariest.” He meant that. Percy had faced Kronos, but Clarisse still scared the shit out of him. 

He plastered a smile on his face. Hopefully no one could see how fake it was, and how much his loss of control had terrified him. 

All at once, the energy that had been pulsing through his body disappeared all at once. He no longer felt energized, but completely drained all at once.  He felt his limbs grow numb. 

“Percy!” Annabeth yelled, and luckily someone was there to catch him as his legs gave out and he melted to the ground. 

“I think I overdid it,” he said to no one in particular. Gods, he had been so stupid. His small body was built for that kind of power. The magic had flooded through him, but when it left, his body was shocked by it all. He hated being twelve again. He felt useless. 

“You exhausted yourself,” Mr. D said, coming over to them. “That was a stupid thing to do boy.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “It just felt so–”

“Powerful,” the god answered for him. “ It felt powerful, didn’t it? You felt in control?”

Mr. D looked at him strangely, and Percy couldn’t quite figure it out. In the past, the man had always been so silly in a way - wired and manichal. But, he hadn’t seen the man so serious since the war. Not since the death of his son…

“Percy,” the person holding him said, and he looked up surprised to find it had been Luke who caught him. Involuntarily he flinched in the boy's grasp, and forced himself to relax. He prayed the boy had missed it. “Can you stand?”

Percy nodded, and Luke helped him stand. He almost fell back down the moment he put weight on his legs. But, he refused to fall in front of everyone again.

“Percy,” Chiron said. “Walk with me. Luke, Annabeth, will you help him?” Di Immortales. How many walks were they going to go on today?

He was surprised to find Annabeth rushing to his side, and Luke to his other. He put all of his weight on the two, thankful for the sudden support. 

They walked away from the audience but Percy could still feel their eyes burning into him from behind. “Are you feeling alright, My boy?” Chiron asked, when they were out of earshot.

“Chiron,” he said, picking at his nails. “I don’t know what happened. It was like —” What was it like? He had lost control. The last time he had…His brain suddenly flooded with images of Tartarus and the goddess of misery. 

“Has something like that ever happened to you before?” he said. “The ability to make it rain?”

The ability to make it rain? Had they not seen him take the water from the surrounding areas? Did they think he had actually made it rain? Had he?

“I don’t think so?” When Percy thought about it, there had been moments during the war with Gaea when he had almost controlled the water around him like a hurricane. But, had actually been a hurricane - a storm he had created out of nothing? Or, had it been something else.

“Chiron, is there something wrong with me?” He felt Lukes grip tighten on his arm, and they boy nodded at him in support. It was moments like these that reminded him of how the boy had once been his friend. But, it also made the betrayal sting so much more. 

Chiron was silent for a moment which wasn’t very reassuring at all. “ Of course not, my boy,” he said. “You’re just different.”

“You know who my father is, don’t you? You’ve known all this time.” Percy said it as fact. He knew that Chiron knew or at least assumed. 

“I have theories,” Chiron said. “What you just did - what you’ve just accomplished, can be dangerous if used by the wrong hands. You’ve really never picked up a sword before? I would have thought –”

“Never,” he said. “Something about it just felt so right.”

“Interesting,” he mused. “I’ll have to speak to Mr. D about it.” He stopped for a moment staring off into the distance. “Ah, Annaneth, Luke, Why don’t you take Percy to dinner. I’m sure he’s famished after all that exercise.”

“Of course,” Annabeth said to the Centaur. 

“Good,” Chiron turned back to Percy. “Go easy on yourself, Percy. What is unknown does not always stay that way.”

The centaur walked away, and for a moment Annabeth and Percy were silent. Annabeth was staring at him, in a new way, and he didn’t necessarily like it. 

“What?” he asked, feeling very self conscious how Luke and Annabeth were looking at him. 

“I’m thinking, I want you on my team for capture the flag.”

Chapter Text

Percy had thought he was used to people staring at him like some odd animal in a zoo. But, obviously he was wrong. While he walked with Annabeth and Luke, every camper pointed at him, making meme worthy faces. Their annoying not so secret whispers followed them too, and Percy wondered how great it might be to not be able to hear anything at all. 

“Did you hear —”

“The water –”

“Do you think it’s possible–”

Every single step ached - like fire was burning through his body. Gods, he really out did himself. He couldn’t wait to train more, so that his body wouldn’t have a panic attack every time he moved a drop of water. His skinny arms hurt from the spar, and he was still huffing and puffing his way to dinner. 

“Who the hell does he think he is?” he heard someone say. He clenched his fists, trying to ignore the loud voices which were growing louder by the second. 

“Ignore them,” Luke said, and Annabeth smiled at him. “People like to talk. They’ll stop in a few days when something new and dramatic happens.”

Percy couldn’t be too sure. He was sure that new and dramatic thing would probably have something to do with him.

“Listen to Luke,” Annabeth said. “He knows what he is talking about.”

“When I got back from my quest,” Luke said, his face turning grim. “People liked to speculate what really happened. But, I knew the truth, and that’s all that matters. No one can make you inferior without your consent.”

“Did you just quote The Princess Diaries ?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “He quoted Eleanor Rosevelt, you moron.”

“Oh.”

At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Four of the tables were empty, and there was something sad seeing all of them empty after they had been occupied for so long. Just like he remembered cabin eleven's was way overcrowded. At the very least, the Hermes cabin deserved another table 

He saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, who was chugging back Diet cokes like jager bombs. Annabeth smiled at him, and left to go sit with her brother and sisters. 

Luke grabbed his hand and the back of his shoulder and helped him sit down next to him in the middle of the table. Luckily, most of the campers were making a wide berth of him after the incident, and he wasn’t squashed on the bench. In fact, a few of the campers had left the bench altogether and sat on the grass nearby. 

Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!" 

Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!"

Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and the most mouth watering barbeque he had seen. His  glass was empty, but Percy muttered, blue cherry coke. He smiled when the goblet filled with the sugary blue drink. 

He took a cautious a sip, and made a toast to his mother who was still trapped in the underworld with his overbearing uncle 

"Here you go, Percy," Luke said, handing him a platter of smoked brisket. Immediately after years of muscle memory, he got up from the bench and headed over to fire to make an offering to his father. 

“Poesidon,” he murmured under his breath, hoping no one would hear him. The moment he threw the slice of brisket into the fire, the scent of the sea filled his nose - salt and seaweed. Help me , he thought. Please.

He rejoined Luke at the Hermes table, and picked at the rest of his food.  Luke was looking at him strangely. 

“How did you know to burn your food?” Luke asked. 

“Oh,” Percy said. “Chiron mentioned that the gods like the smell. My mom always used to have me burn a piece of my food growing up too. I guess now I know why.”

“That was quite the fight,” Luke said, biting into a piece of juicy pineapple. “Are you sure you’ve never fought before?”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “I don’t know what it was. But, it just felt natural – Almost second nature. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Maybe it has something to do with your godly parents?” Luke said. “Ares is the god of war. Maybe he could be your dad?”

Yeah, because a child of Ares could totally be able to control water. Who were they kidding? Had it been so obvious the first time around that his father was Poesidon?

“Probably not,” he told Luke. “Besides, I’d hate to be Clarisse’s brother.”

Luke laughed. ‘I can see the family resemblance.”

"So your dad is Hermes?" Percy asked. 

 He pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket, and panicked for one small second. Hero's soul cursed blade shall reap. 

He scraped the mudd off from his boot, and put the knife back in his pocket. Percy felt himself finally relax.  "Yeah. Hermes."

"The wing-footed messenger guy."

 "That's him. Messengers. Medicine. Travelers, mer-chants, thieves. Anybody who uses the roads. That's why you're here, enjoying cabin eleven's hospitality. Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors." 

“Sounds like he can't be too bad,” Percy said, gauging what the man's reaction would be. “It’s nice to know at least one of the gods sponsors the children they’ve rejected.”

“Trust me,” Luke said. “The guy isn’t all sunshine and roses. I’d take Ares as my dad any day.”

Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."

 A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table. "Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Percy Jackson."

Odd, Percy distinctly remembered Mr. D had called him by the wrong name last time. He guessed he made an impression.

"That's right. Hurrah, and all that.”

“So,” Percy said, trying to change the subject quickly before Luke skewered him for mentioning his father. “That’s this about capture the flag?”

For once, Luke smiled, and it brightened up the room. He could understand at that moment why so many younger demigods were trapped in his thrall. 

“It’s like war games,” Luke said. “It’s supposed to prepare us for real life battles. But, it's also just a lot of fun.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Percy said. “Just my type of fun.” Capture the flag was nothing like a real battle. Nothing, and he meant nothing, could ever prepare you for the reality of it. 

They left for the campfire, a conch horn sounding in the distance, telling them that the bonfire was ready. At the fire, Percy ate gooey smores, and drank rich hot chocolate. He laughed with Grover, Annabeth and even Luke. 

The wet green grass stained his jeans but he didn’t have it in him to care. A warm glow of the fire casted everyone in hues of orange and yellow, so it almost felt dream-like. It was peaceful, and Percy had forgotten what it was like to feel peace. 

After years of quests, and wars, Percy had never really had that one simple thing. Just when he thought he would finally get some sleep, he was kidnapped during the night, his memories erased, forced to endure another prophecy on the other side of the country. 

He had missed this feeling of contentment.

It was strange to think that in a few years countless kids who now laughed without a care in the world would be dead.Camp would burn during the battle of the labyrinth, and nothing would ever be the same again.  

“You okay?” Luke asked. 

“I’m just wondering how long this is all going to last,” Percy told him. 

Luke furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Something terrible is coming, Luke. I can feel it in my bones,” he gestured all around him. “This is going to be the first thing that goes. I don’t choose the gods, I’ve never known them. But this? These people? I think they could be my family. It makes it all the more heartbreaking.”

Luke looked confused, not understanding Percy’s words. “Percy, this isn’t going away.”

Next to Luke, Annabeth was staring intently at the fire, pretending not to listen. Percy knew she was – she was never a very good eavesdropper without her magic hat.

He shook his head. Had Luke been so naive when he stole the lightning bolt? Did he really think all the demigods were just going to follow him blindly?

He sighed, exhaustion hitting him. “One of us stole Zeus’s bolt, Luke,” he said, gauging the man's reaction. At the least he had the decency to look somewhat guilty. “What do you think will happen? The gods aren’t the ones who will suffer for this. We will. Soon demigods are going to have to choose between supporting their parents or their friends. Camp will be torn apart, and a lot of us will die.”

“No one has to die, Percy,” Luke said. “I’m sure it won’t go that far.” It was funny coming from the guy whose death ended everything. 

“But it will,” he said. “The gods are too prideful to admit it's their fault one of their children betrayed them. Whoever stole the bolt, I understand why they stole it.”

“You do?” Luke said quietly. 

“Of course,” Percy said. “It’s not fair we live the way we do. But, I think they did it in the wrong way.”

Luke didn’t say anything. 

“You know,” Percy said. “They think I stole the bolt.” Luke was still silent. “What kind of person frames a friend for a crime they didn’t commit? It makes them no better than the gods they despise. We have to be better than them – do better.”

“Did you?” Annabeth asked, piping in. “Steal the bolt, I mean?” She stared at him intently like she already knew the answer, but still wanted to hear it anyway. 

“Of course not,” he said. “Even I’m not that stupid.” Annabeth's face turned bright red, and she turned away from the group, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Luke raised an eyebrow, as if to say he actually was stupid, and Percy shoved him slightly, a small laugh escaping. 

“I don’t know about you,” Percy said. “But I need to sleep. It’s been a long day – Long week actually.” Long couple of years was more like it. 

Luke looked at him with something close to pity. No one had looked at him that way since he was twelve. He didn’t like it then, and he most certainly didn’t like it now. 

“You know the way?” Luke said. “You’re all good to get there yourself, right? Not gonna collapse on us again?” Luke sounded more like a concerned mother hen, than the ruthless insurrectionist he had come to know. 

“I can manage,” he said, pushing himself up from the ground, his muscles still aching from the earlier fight. 

The walk back to the cabin was long and painful. The sound of Satyrs playing lilting flutes drifted through the wind as he walked, filling him with the sound of home. Home. Gods, it was so good to be home. 

He stopped for a moment in front of his father's cabin, looming above him. A part of him wanted to return to the comfort of that place. But, he tore his eyes away and walked to the Hermes cabin.

That night, when Percy laid himself to sleep on the tiny piece of floor he could now call home, he didn’t sleep well. Considering everything that had happened. It wasn't too surprising. It would be more surprising if he did sleep well. 

It was a little-known fact that demigods had terrible dreams and Percy wasn’t the exception. In fact, he seemed to have them worse than most half-bloods. But, add in some trauma, war, and time travel, and you had a recipe for a kid who was bound to have some terrible nightmares.

He dreamed he was dangling over the edge of tartarus, only this time, he wasn’t holding on to Annabeth. No, this time, Luke Castellan held onto him, and it was Percy hanging over the edge. 

It felt so real. He could feel the heat radiating up from the pit, feel the sweat pouring down his body, loosening his grip on Luke’s hand. 

“Please,” Percy said. “Please.”

He could see it in his eyes, when Luke decided to let him go – saw the man's jaw tightened as resolution overcame him.  He’d lost the battle, and decided to firmly plant himself under Kronos’s control. 

Percy fell in slow motion, arms moving widely as if he could grab onto air to pull himself back up. Of course he couldn’t grab the air, he wasn’t a son of Zeus and not even he had a domain down here. 

He must have fallen for years. He knew time moved differently in Tartarus, but nothing could ever really prepare him for that feeling again. 

When he did finally land in that hell hole. He landed in fire. Not literal fire (at least he hoped not.) No, this was a feeling he knew - a feeling that would follow him until the day he died. It burned him, searing away any thought until all he could think of was the pain. 

The River Styx.

Only this time, when he tried to tether himself to something - anything- every wisp of something to hold onto tore itself away, until Percy didn’t know what was real anymore. 

He clawed himself out of the water, and unto the riverbank, his skin red and steaming. He’d done it. Somehow he had done it. 

When he stood up regaining what little strength he had, he saw a man walking towards him, his long black robes billowing behind him. At first, he thought it was Achilles coming to yell at him for taking the dangerous plunge. But the more he looked the more he realized how wrong he was.

The figure had rotting flesh, his skin feeling off his face in sheets. Percy could see right through the muscle all the way to the bone, and he fought the urge to throw up. 

“Perseus Jackson,” the voice called. “You will bring me the lightning bolt.”

“No,” Percy said, and turned his back to the man, walking away. He’d barely taken a step when time slowed around him. It felt like he was trying to swim through a giant vat of quicksand. 

Shit, he thought. Shit shit shit shit shitty shit.

He turned back around, half expecting to see Luke there. 

“Kronos,” he said. 

He wondered if the titan was surprised. If he was, he didn’t show it.

“There’s something different about you,” the titan said. “Something powerful.”

“I have a good skincare routine.” he said, looking at his peeling face.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said. "Half Blood. I look forward to it.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

All at once, the Titan lunged at him, his icy hands grabbing hold of his neck and squeezing. He woke up screaming — deep and guttural — the kind of scream that would leave your throat completely raw. 

“Percy,” a voice said, shaking him. “It’s okay. You’re okay, now.”

Without thinking, Percy grabbed the unknown man by his shirt, and flipped him over. His hand wrapped around the minotaurs horn firmly, and he held it at the unknown assailants neck

“Percy,” the voice said. 

He looked down at the horn in his hand, the boy's face coming into his vision. “Luke?” he asked. Oh gods what had he done? Was he okay? “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

He let go of the boy quickly, and practically flung himself close to the wall, giving him distance from him. 

“Percy?” Luke asked. He held his hand out and spoke as if Percy were some frightened and rabid animal. “What was that? Are you alright?”

“It was just a nightmare,” he said. “Nothing–”

“Bullshit,” Luke said. “Just a nightmare? You were screaming so loud I’m surprised you can talk.”

“It was just a nightmare Luke,” he said, lying through his teeth. “I saw my mom—”

“What's that?” Luke asked, looking oddly at him. 

“What?” Percy asked, completely breathless. “What are you talking about?”

“On your neck?” Luke asked. “The handprints? They're blue.”

It wasn’t possible. It was a dream, wasn’t it? Percy jumped up from the ground. He didn’t want to talk about it – he couldn’t…

“Percy!” Luke yelled, but he wasn’t listening. “Percy!”

Instead, Percy was stumbling over campers waking up from all the commotion. He flung open the door of the Hermes cabin and ran into the night. 

Chapter Text

Percy somehow found himself by the lake (not that it was entirely too surprising.) He watched as fish swam through the waves unbothered by the reality of life and he wished he could be one of them.

He threw pebble after pebble into the depths, as angry nereids gave him death glares.

His mind whirled faster than it had in a long time as the crushing reality of predicament weighed down on him. He was in the past, forced to relive events that still haunted his nightmares. What if he messed everything up? What if he made everything so much worse?

He wondered if it would be better to just not do anything. Afterall, they won the war, if he tried to change the past there was always the possibility that they could lose it. He might make everything ten times worse if he went down the path he had started walking down. 

“Dad,” he said. “Please, I know you are listening. I’m scared. I don’t know what's happening and I could really use some help right about now. Please, help me.”

He threw another pebble into the water and it splattered across the edge. 

Without thinking, Percy thrust out his hands. An intense tugging sensation filled his gut, and the water obeyed his will. The water surged forward, and Percy formed it into a circle of water hovering over the lake. 

He focused his mind, and without thinking sent the water hurtling to the other side of the lake. The moment the water exploded on the other side, he could already feel the exhaustion from the movement. He felt so weak – so useless. 

“Things will get better, you know?”

His head snapped up, and he saw Chiron standing there in all his horse glory. “Chiron?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Luke sent me,” he said. “He told me you had a nightmare.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “You could say that.” Percy threw another pebble into the water that landed dangerously close to a nereid's head. 

“Do you wanna tell me about it?”

“Not really.”

What would be the harm? Maybe, he should trust Chiron with his dreams. He had always thought of Chiron as someone he could trust. 

“It was awful. I didn't want to tell Luke because –”

“You didn’t want to worry him?” Chiron asked. “I can understand that, but you can’t carry everything by yourself my boy. You’ve suffered a terrible loss. No one blames you for carrying a deep sadness after the death of your mother.”

Honestly, he had forgotten that this version of Percy was supposed to be wrecked with grief from losing his mother. Ooops. He really was a terrible actor. 

“No,” Percy said. “I have no problem telling people when I’m struggling it's just — Well — Luke was in the dream.”

Chiron raised an eyebrow. “Luke was in your dream?”

“I had fallen over a cliff. I could hear screams down below - smell fire,” Percy said, gauging Chirons reaction. The man's face turned a stark white and he became as still as one of medusa’s sculptures. “Luke, he dropped me – purposely. I fell, and I landed in fire. I don’t remember much after that. Only the pain.”

“It was just a dream Percy,” he said, but didn’t look too sure. 

“Is that why you came out here, Percy,” Chiron asked. “Because of the dreams? Did you feel…called to it somehow?”

“Of course I felt called to it. I know who my father is, Chiron.”

“Percy, How–”

“I can move water with my mind and cause rain storms without so much as lifting a finger. It’s kind of obvious.”

“Not to everyone.”

“It's Poeseidon, Isn’t it? That’s why they sent the Kindly One after me. It’s why they think I'm the lightning thief. If Zeus was my father he wouldn't have sent them after me.”

“You're astute,” Chiron said.

“I may have had terrible grades,” Percy said. “But despite what everyone thinks that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

“You surprise me, Percy,” Chiron said. “When I taught you at Yancy, I thought you were far less mature than you are. You were just a normal twelve year old boy.”

“But, I never was just a twelve year old boy, Chiron,” Percy said. “I’ve always been who I am, they just couldn’t sense it yet. My father claiming me doesn’t change who he is.”

“My dear boy,” Chiron said. “You might just surprise us all yet.”

Oh, Percy was nothing if not full of surprises. 

“Perhaps, you should go back to your cabin?” Chiron said. “I’m sure they're all worried about you.”

“Hard to sleep on an inch of splintered wood. I think I’ll stay here.”

Percy heard Chiron sigh, the kind that was filled with nothing but exhaustion. Not for the first time, he couldn’t help but wonder what the poor centaur had seen. He’d spent a millenia training heroes only to see them one day die. After thousands of years of raising young lambs for slaughter, how tired might you be?

“Percy,” Chiron said. “If you need anything, know that I will always listen.”

“Thank you, Chiron,” he said. “Really, it means alot to me.”

“Of course, Percy.” He heard Chiron walk away, a heaviness filling him with each step the centaur took. He wanted to tell the man everything that had happened. He needed someone to confide in. But he couldn’t yet. He couldn’t risk the repercussions. 

Percy formed a routine over the next several days of camp, and he didn’t particularly like any part of it. Annabeth would teach him Greek mythology he already knew, and would call him a smart aleck everytime he got an answer right, which was by all accounts a first. He spent most of his days ignoring Luke.  If the boy was going to betray him again, at least he wouldn’t be so hurt by it this time around. 

He knew the senior campers and counselors were watching him, trying to decide who his dad was. They must have all been the stupidest people on the planet because how could there be any doubt who his father was after his fight with Clarisse turned the camp into a waterpark. 

Oddly enough, he found himself talking more to Clarisse than anyone else. After their fight the other day, they seemed to come to some type of really odd truce. She helped him with different weapons Percy had neglected the first time around, and even taught him a few new tricks. 

As happy as he was to be at camp, every second felt like a knife in the stomach. Every person he saw was a reminder of everything he had lost. He knew these people – knew them all so well, but they didn’t know him. It was tearing him up inside not to speak to them like he once was able to. 

There was one thing during those days that gave him some semblance of peace – water. He spent most days by the beach watching the young campers canoe or swim. He couldn’t sleep so at night, he trained his arms to get used to the weight of the sword in his hands. He practically obliterated the poor training dummy to shreds the first night so they had to replace it. 

“What did that poor thing ever do to you?” Luke asked on the second day, staring down at another corpse of a training dummy. The sun burned brightly above them, scorching his skin. All around him kids spared with each other quite frankly looking pitiful 

“It looked at me funny.”

“You should really get some sleep, Percy. You aren’t invincible. Even Achilles needed sleep.”

“No he didn’t. He was–” he stopped himself. “I’m fine.”

“I was just like you, you know. When I first came here I was a mess. I blamed everyone and everything for all the wrongs in my life. I understand the resentment building in you Percy. It’s natural.”

“That’s what I hate,” Percy said, unable to control himself. “It shouldn’t be normal. This isn’t right.”

“We should do something about it,” Luke said. “End the cycle.” It sounded oddly like Luke was trying to recruit him to his cause and Percy really didn’t like it. 

“How do you think we should do that, Luke, without more pain and suffering? I’m not going to trade one monster for another.”

“What are you–”

“Percy, Luke!” Annabeth yelled, interrupting them. “Are you ready? It’s time for capture the flag.”

Percy swallowed and smiled at the girl. “Yeah, can’t wait.”

“Let me take you to the armory. Get you some weapons and armor.”

“I’ll take him,” Luke said. “I was headed there anyway.”

Annabeth smiled at them and ran off her blonde hair swaying back and forth as she ran. 

“What did you mean? Trading one monster for another?”

Percy sighed. “Isn’t that always how it goes? If you want to change something - really change something, you can’t just replace the people. To quote Daenerys Targaryen, you have to break the wheel.”

“Who?”

“That’s not the point. If you want to change something you have to do better - be better. Show the gods you’re better than them - kinder, stronger, and braver. Then, they might pay attention if you show them their faults by being the best person you can be.”

They walked into the armory. Rows of mismatched armor and swords hung from the walls. He saw some familiar weapons - Piper's dagger, and Frank’s sword. His heart hurt. 

 “Kid, sometimes I can’t believe you're twelve years old. The things you say.” Percy almost forgot Luke was there for a moment - too busy stuck in his past. Future? 

“I don’t feel twelve. I feel like I’m forty with a mortgage and receding hairline.”

“It doesn’t get better,” Luke said. “You just get better at managing it.” Luke handed Percy a piece of leather armor that looked about his size. He took it gingerly, placing it over his head. 

Percy tightened the leather straps on his armor, pulling each piece perfectly into place. He attached his borrowed sword at his waist, feeling uncomfortable to the unfamiliar weight. 

“You need any help?” Luke asked, looking at each piece of armor. 

“Nah,” Percy said. “All good.”

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Luke said, eyeing the armor with suspicion. “I’ve never seen a newbie put on armor correctly the first time before.”

Percy shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I’m just lucky. Let’s go meet Annabeth. I'm sure she’s waiting for us.”

Luke nodded, but Percy could see he was filled with suspicion. Gods, he was being so obvious. He needed to act like a fool if he was going to survive.

They met Annabeth at the edge of the woods with her other cabin mates - a sea of blonde hair and gray eyes before him. 

"So what's the plan?" he asked, knowing full well her plan to use him as bait. "Got any magic items you can loan me?"

Her hand drifted toward her pocket, as if she were afraid I'd stolen something. "Just watch Clarisse's spear," she said. "You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise, don't worry. We'll take the banner from Ares. Has Luke given you your job?"

 "Border patrol, whatever that means." 

"It's easy. Stand by the creek, keep the reds away. Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan." She pushed ahead, leaving him in the dust. He had forgotten how confident young Annabeth had been. He had hated that about her at first, because he had always been the exact opposite, stumbling around with his eyes closed just hoping for the best. 

 "Okay," he mumbled. “Wisegirl.” He smiled at the name. How he missed the wise girl he had grown up with. This Annabeth was her for sure. But this was the girl who still hadn’t grown past her pride and who still had blind faith in her mother. 

It was a warm, sticky night. The woods were dark, with fireflies popping in and out of view. He was stationed by the river again and his skin itched knowing what awaited him. A hellhound. How could he ever forget?

“You’ll be fine,” Luke said, patting his back. “No one ever gets killed…usually.”

Yes, because that filled him with so much confidence. 

The forest was ancient - maybe even older than time itself. Waiting there by himself - the millennium old trees towering above him, he never felt smaller or more unsure. 

Just like before, Annabeth stationed him next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks, then she and the rest of the team scattered into the trees.He tried not to think about how the last time he had been there, Luke had betrayed him and tried to kill him with pit scorpions. 

Then he heard a sound that sent a chill up his spine, a low canine growl, somewhere close by. Last time, Clarisse had been there to intervene before the monster could catch him alone. Now, there was no one there except him and Annabeth who was hidden under her hat and still vastly unqualified to fight something like this. 

There on the rocks just above them was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers. It was looking straight at him, like he was a tasty snack. He was sure he was, but he didn’t want to find out anytime soon. 

"Percy, run!" he heard from nowhere. Of course, Percy was never very good at listening. Perhaps it was the ADHD or the amount of crap he really didn’t give anymore. 

Instead of running like any rational person should have, Percy charged. With a flick of his wrist, he called the waters towards him, using a geyser of water to launch him on to  the hellhound's back. 

Almost like breathing, Percy pulled the sword from his scabbard and tried to plunge it into the monster's back. Almost expecting it, the monster shook its head, and body. Percy clung to its fur, but it did little good, and he was sent flying off the monster. 

Percy landed in a roll, popping back up and brandishing his sword out in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a frantic Annabeth pulling out her small dagger, looking like dog food. 

In the back of his mind, Percy was vaguely aware of the screams. He was sure someone had won the game, and that meant the small clearing would soon be filled with campers who could easily get hurt. 

Not wasting anymore time, Whirlpools formed on either side of the hellhound. Giant watery hands erupted from the stream, copying Percy’s movements. The giant hands grabbed the creature,  who squealed in surprise (do hellhounds squeal?). Then the hands lifted the squawking monster in a liquid vise grip.

Percy heard the other kids yelping and backing away, but he stayed focused on his task. He made a smashing gesture with his fists, and the giant hands plunged the hellhound into the river. The monsters hit bottom and broke into dust. Glittering clouds of monster essence struggled to reform, but the river pulled them apart like a blender. Soon every trace of the hellhound was swept downstream. The whirlpools vanished, and the current returned to normal.

"Oh, Styx," Annabeth cursed. "This is not good. I didn't want ... I assumed it would be Zeus... .

“What the hell?” Clarrise said, and Percy didn’t blame her. He was sure that up above him would be a glowing trident of his father claiming him. 

“Fuck,” he heard Luke say, and Percy agreed. He was going to have a hard time explaining his mastery of water. 

What he wasn’t expecting to see above his head was nothing. Nothing radiated over his head like some sort of curse or jinx. He kept staring up above, willing something to happen, but nothing ever did. 

His father…his father hadn’t claimed him. 

What happened? What had he done wrong? Why hadn’t he –

“Percy–” Chiron asked. “Are you alright?”

What the fuck did he do wrong?

“I just thought — I thought if I did something brave enough he would claim me. Do I really mean so little to him?” What had changed? This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right.

“Percy we can’t ever hope to understand what it is the gods think. He will claim you eventually. Be patient.”

“Fuck patience, Chiron,” he snapped. “If I’m going to be their pawn the least they can do is acknowledge me.”

“Those are dangerous words, Percy.”

“Well, so am I.”

Chapter Text

Percy walked away from the campers gaping at him, a storm brewing at his heels. He thought he had known what it was like to feel angry. He had been angry when Luke first betrayed him, he had been angry at Kronos and Gaea. But now? Now he really wanted to punch his father in the face. The bastard deserved it. 

He found himself back at the river bank. Not that it was entirely surprising. 

Percy screamed, the noise forcing itself up his throat, deep and guttural. He screamed at the gods, the universe, anything that would listen really. For the first time since he had arrived in the past he let himself feel everything. The pain of dying – of being separated from Annabeth and his friends. He felt the loss of Jason, of Charlie, Silena, and Zoe. 

All at once, everything he had been holding in came rushing like a tidal wave. He fell to his knees hard, not caring for the bruises that would form. 

Percy let himself cry. He let the tears come pouring out of him freely like an ocean wave. His body shook - his skin cold and clammy. All he wanted to do was go back home. He wanted Annabeth – his Annabeth and not the young girl who had replaced her. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, or how long he let the tears flow out of him. The downside to being the son of poseidon? His tears never stopped. There seemed to be an endless reserve of water in body that had been begging to break through the dam he had carefully constructed to hide his emotions. 

“Percy?” A voice said. “Percy?”

Just as quickly as he had fallen apart, he built himself back together. He sewed back together the pieces of his heart which had been torn to pieces. He pulled in the tears and anger.

Through his misty eyes, he looked up at his best friend. Grover still looked the same as ever – Curly hair, horns still creeping past the brown waves. 

“Hey Grover,” he said to his friend. He wouldn’t let the satyr see just how much of a mess he really was. He had to hold it all in, keep himself together or risk an even more terrible future.

“Are you okay? I heard you scream.”

He smiled up at his friend, forcing himself up from the ground. “Yeah, I think I just tore a muscle. I’ll be better after some sleep.”

“You know you can talk to me right? I mean, you're my best friend. If you can talk to anyone, you can talk to me. 

Percy smiled at Grover. “Of course you're my best friend Grover. Nothing changes that. “ Not even time travel could, or memory loss, or a  crazy cyclop’s who wanted to marry him. 

“What exactly happened, Percy?” Grover said. “I mean, a few weeks ago you couldn’t even stop Nancy Bobofit from throwing her lunch at us, and now you have the ability to stop a Hellhound? If you could have seen the way you moved. I’ve never seen someone be able to do what you accomplished. Not even Luke could have done that.”

“I don’t know Grover,” he said. “All I know is that nothing makes sense anymore. My mother is gone, my father is a god, and I suddenly have these strange abilities. I wish I could –”

“You wish what?”

“I wish I could forget. I wish everything would go back to normal. I want my family back.” He wanted his Grover. His Annabeth. His Chiron. Jason, Piper, Hazel, Frank, and Leo. 

As awful as his past had been, he had persevered through it with his friends. He had made it through the abuse of Gabe Ugliano. He had defeated Titans and Giants. Yet, somehow he never felt smaller. He never felt more alone than he did now. 

“Everyone is worried about you, you know,” Grover said. “You were kind of terrifying the way you talked to Chiron. I think even Mr. D was a little scared of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he meant it. “Chiron didn’t deserve that.”

“I think he knows you weren’t mad at him,” Grover said. “He’s dealt with angsty teens for a millennium.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“We should probably go back, let them know that you are alive.”

“I could always disappear,” Percy said out loud absentmindedly. “It probably would be better for everyone.”

Grover turned deathly pale, “Come on Percy. Let's get out of here.”

Grover grabbed his hand tightly, practically dragging him to the Big House. For some reason the house didn’t feel the warm home he was used to. Now, it felt like he was walking to his death sentence. 

In the lounge of the Big house, Annabeth and Luke were already sitting on large sofas which seemed comically big for their small bodies. Chiron was pacing the room, his four legs clacking on the wooden floors. 

For a moment he simply stared at the scene, and the oddness of it. They all looked so young, and Percy felt so old. 

When they saw him walk in, three heads immediately popped up, looking at him in multiple degrees of worry. 

“Percy!” Chiron was the first to say. “Where did you run off to? You made us all worried.”

“I just needed some air – some time to think. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to worry any of you.”

“How did you do that Percy?” Luke blurted out. He jumped up from where he sat next to Annabeth, his words moving faster than a race horse at the Kentucky Derby. “You killed the Hellhound. How did you do that?” If Luke had the decency to show any remorse for letting the hellhound in, he didn’t show it. Instead, he looked at Percy with something close to… fear?

“I keep telling you all,” he said, the lies burning on his tongue. “It just feels like second nature. Like it’s a part of me. I can’t explain it. I really can’t”

“Percy,” Chiron asked. “Are you okay, my boy? That was quite a feat you accomplished there.”

“Actually, I feel kinda –” he shook his head. He was fine. Everything was definitely fine. 

“You okay?” Annabeth asked him. 

“Yup.”

“You want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Not really.”

Annabeth pulled up her legs to her chest, hugging them gently. She looked so small on the large sofa. God, she was a child. So was Luke really, and the gods expected them to do all their dirty work? Kids who had barely surpassed puberty.  “I’m sorry you haven't been claimed yet Percy. You know you will soon.”

It was like Annabeth could read his mind. She always knew what was worrying him the most. 

He smiled at her. “I wouldn’t count on that Beth, but thanks for saying it. I don’t think he will ever claim me.” Probably because he already had been claimed... Not, that she knew that. Not that his dad knew that either..the bastard.

“You're an idiot. Trust me,” she said. ‘If I was your dad, I would claim you. He’d be stupid not to.”

“He would be stupid to claim me, Annabeth,” he said. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Have you really not figured out who it is? I think he’s protecting me in his own way by not claiming me.”

Chiron held his head in his hands, his age really showing for the first time. “I’ve called you all here because I believe a quest is inevitable. As you all know by now, Zeus’s master bolt has been stolen. Annabeth, Luke, and Grover, I’d like you three to go and find it.”

Percy’s world froze, the room suddenly swimming around him. “What?” He said out loud, panic flooding into his voice.

Oh shit.

“A quest,” Chiron explained. “I’m sure Luke mentioned them to you.”

“But, what about me? I’m going aren’t I?” he asked. Oh gods, he never once expected that Chiron wouldn’t let him on the quest. 

“I’d like you to stay at camp, Percy,” Chiron said. “Train, get to know your fellow campers and rest. You need it.”

“But–”

“Don’t worry, Percy,” Luke said, smirking slightly. “We can handle this.”

“Listen,” Percy said. “I don’t need to complain, really. But, it's a fucking stupid decision not to put me on this quest.”

“Language,” Chiron said. For Christ's sake, why were they always surprised he swore? He was from New York city. He was swearing like a sailor since birth. 

“Think about it, Chiron, it's obvious who my father is. They think I'm the thief. I should be the one to go and get it. I’m meant to be on it,” Percy said, his voice getting louder. “You have to put me on it.”

“Percy –”

“You don’t understand,” Percy said, panicking. If he didn’t go on the quest he was fucked. He didn’t want to imagine the timely repercussions of Luke going on the quest. 

“Then,” he said. “Explain it to me. Make it make sense.”

“I’ve been having dreams,” he said, lying through his teeth. He had to admit the lies were becoming easier the more he spun them. Chiron’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Two people fighting about a lightning bolt. A man wants me to bring him from inside a pit or something. He keeps calling me the prophecy child - something about making a choice.”

Chirons face was suddenly drained of all color, and for the first time he really showed all of the years he had lived. Luke’s eyes grew wide, and so did Annabeths. He had been so occupied he had completely forgotten they were there. 

“Are you sure that’s what he said?” Chiron said. “These exact words? He said you had a choice to make?”

Percy knew just what buttons to press. With the mention of the Prophecy surely, Chiron would have no choice but to listen to him. 

“Percy,” Chiron said. The Centaur put his hands on his shoulders forcing Percy to look up at him. “Are you sure? He said you had a choice? Did he say anything else?”

Percy nodded to him. “I don’t know what he meant, but maybe this is it. This is my choice. I need to go on that quest Chiron. I can feel it in my bones more deeply than anything.”

“Percy no,” Chiron said. “I’ve made my decision.”

Percy’s eyes blazed and for a moment he felt himself fall back into the man he was during the war. Straight back, squared shoulder, a fiery expression. He was dangerous - a force to reckoned with, and he let Chiron see it. But, he only let Chiron see a small sliver of who he was. There was so much more he was hiding. 

Chiron noticed the change immediately. The man froze, looking at Percy with eyes the boy had never seen before. Very slowly, as if he were suddenly scared, the man took his hands off of Percy’s shoulders and stepped away from him. 

“Chiron,” he said, and used the voice he only ever used on Titans who had pissed him off. “I’m not asking.”

He’d never seen Chiron look at him with something other than kindness of understanding. This was a new look and Percy didn’t like it. “Percy, this is for the best. Let Luke and Annabeth handle this. They know what they're doing.”

“Chiron, let me talk to the boy,” Mr. D said, surprising him. Percy hadn’t noticed the god coming in. He had no idea how long he had been standing there listening to their conversations. 

 The room was frozen - no one really knowing what to say or do. Annabeth and Luke stayed in their positions, eye wide as they processed what was happening. 

“That means leave,” Mr. D said when they stayed in their frozen positions. 

Sometime when he was younger he had honestly forgotten the man was a god and not some crazy person drunk on diet coke. But, now he saw it - the fury of a god, and the others saw it too. The group of people begrudgingly left, he could see Annabeth look back at him, as she left nodding at him in reassurance. Luke shot him a glance that looked close to disdain. 

“You're going to follow them, aren’t you?” Mr. D said when the group was out of ear shot.

“Don’t try and stop me,” Percy said. “Believe it or not I’ll be fine.”

“Oh I believe you,” Mr. D said. “Nice work with the Hellhound by the way. The way you flipped in mid air when you jumped off of him? Iconic.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

The god grew serious again. “Don’t forget Perseaus, I’m the god of wine, but also the god of theater. I can see someone who is acting a mile away. You are lying through your teeth.”

“No–”

“Please let’s pretend not to be stupid. Don’t deny it. I don’t know what you're hiding, but you are playing a dangerous game. While everyone else is oblivious, I am not.”

Percy dropped the facade - the stupid young boy he was pretending to be. Instead, he let the god see who he was, the real him. Gone was the insecurity of the twelve year old boy, replaced with the hard experience and confidence of a hero, a soldier, and killer. 

“There he is,” Mr. D said. “Must be exhausting, pretending to be someone you're not.”

“Not really,”

“Just tell me one thing,” the god said. “I recognize that look in your eye. Chiron saw it too, it's why he’s so scared and doesn’t want you on that quest. I’ve seen it before.”

“In who?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“In Achilles. In Hercules. In your namesake Perseus. In Odysseus and Jason. It's the eyes of a hero, of a killer. The legends won’t tell you this, not even the gods like to think about it. But those heroes were closer to gods than most demi-gods. They did impossible feats, but being that close to godhood comes with a price, you know?

“Oh?”

“I’m sure you’ve felt it, Percy – the draw to power. I’m sure you’ve almost lost yourself to it before, haven’t you? You are an ember, just waiting to catch fire, and Chiron is afraid of who you might burn.”

Percy couldn’t help but think of the goddess of misery in Tartarus. He had felt so powerful then - so in control that he almost lost his control. 

“Just tell me something?” the god said, scanning him. 

“Depends on what you're asking.”

“You’re dangerous. I can see it. Chiron is smart enough to see it too. My question is, who are you dangerous to? The gods? Camp?”

“The gods have never done anything for me, Dionysis,” he was surprised the man didn’t flinch when he said his name. “It is because of them that my life has turned out the way it is. As angry as you all make me, as many times as you have forsaken me, I will still fight on the side of camp – of the gods. Because it's the right thing to do. And as terrible as you all are, there are far worse things to fight for.

“I’m on the side of my friends and family, of good and light,” Percy said. “Trust me when I say I am not your enemy. But, I am dangerous to those who are.”

Mr. D nodded slowly at him. “I hope I never end up on your bad side, Perseus Jackson. Olympus might just fall.”

“Olympus is already falling. It's been falling for thousands of years. It’s my job to make sure it doesn’t topple over completely, isn't it?”

“Get that lightning bolt back, Will you?”

Percy laughed, “Oh please, I already know where it is

Chapter Text

You already know where it is?” Mr. D asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I…have dreams,” he said, lying through his teeth. “Let’s just say it’s kinda obvious where it is.”

 “Dreams?” the man asked. “What did you see that changed you so much?”

“It was terrible,” he said. Images of the past flooded through his mind. Tartutrus, and Jason's death. “I can’t let it happen. The things I’ve seen—”

“I have something for you,” Mr. D said. “Since you're so convinced you have to go on this stupid quest you’ll need help.” The god dug into his pockets, pulling out a familiar ballpoint pen he had grown so fond of. 

“This is for you,” the god said, handing it to him. “I stole it from Chiron. Don’t tell him that, he’ll kill me.”

Percy held the pen gingerly in his hands as if it were some fragile thing that might break if he touched it the wrong way. 

“Anaklusmos,” Percy whispered as he stared down at the dangerous weapon. “Riptide.”

“I’m not gonna even ask how you knew that name,” the god said, shaking his head. 

Percy smiled down at the familiar weapon which felt so right in his hands. It was like an extension of himself. It was almost like the weapon was his arm or leg – he didn’t know what to do without it.

He shoved the pen into his pocket, knowing that it wouldn’t stray him. For a small moment, he wondered if his sword was still cursed like it had always been. When you need your sword the most, it will fail you.

All Percy wanted to do was rest, but evidently the universe hated him because the moment he opened the door to leave, the oracle in all her mummy glory came slamming through the door.

Great, he was gonna have to hear another prophecy. Why was there always another fucking prophecy?

Chiron, Annabeth and Luke followed in behind looking like they had just run a marathon and then went three rounds with Mrs. O’ leary.  He’d take a battle with Mrs. O’ Leary anyday if it meant he never had to hear that nail-biting oracle voice ever again.

“It's the oracle!” Chiron said. “But how–”

Percy was so used to this by now, that it wasn’t a normal day if he didn’t hear some weird and vaguely cryptic haiku from an oracle. Quite honestly, he missed Rachel. He could really use a blue plastic hair brush to throw at the stupid creature. 

All at once, the mummy opened her rotting mouth, green smoke pouring from deep within her. The smoke whirled for a moment, twirling and spinning all around the group, casting them in a deathly hue, before finally settling. 

Percy was shocked when the smoke twirled, turning into thick humanoid shapes. The shapes turned solid, turning into familiar people that took his breath away.

The first shape he saw was Annabeth, albeit, much older than the twelve year old girl standing in the room with them. She had the same gray eyes, but her blonde hair had a startlingly white streak running through it from holding up the weight of the sky.  It was his Annabeth. 

He heard the younger Annabeth’s breath catch as she stared at an older version of herself.

 “Is that me?” she asked, and Percy nodded slowly.

The next shape was an older version of himself, withered and worn from age, with scars littering his body. There was a darkness in him - an edge of power Had he always looked like that? So terrifying? 

The next shape he saw was Jason, looking like he did hours before his death - brave and handsome to the very end. He held his sword in his hand - SPQR tattooed on his inner forearm. 

“Who is that?” he heard Luke say, but Percy didn’t answer.

Her ancient voice spoke, and somehow, it sounded even older than remembered. 

“ The Son of Poseidon stands alone

A future once known, now unknown

For in the depths of dark, where monsters do dwell,

He will find what was stolen on that sacred knell.

But, The fury of the gods will know no bounds 

For Perseus’s death in legends resound.”

The smoke retreated back into its host, taking the visage of his lost friends.  The Oracle slammed its mouth shut, before turning around, and walking back up to its home in the attic. 

“Death?” Annabeth said, her voice taught and strangely shrill. “Perseus’s death?”

Percy fought the urge to roll his eyes. That was nothing new to him. Afterall, he already died. It probably wasn’t the best idea to tell them that he had already died. At least he could check off one part of the prophecy.

 “You don’t know what it means, Annabeth,” Percy said. “I could die metaphorically.”

“Or literally,” Luke said. “Probably literally.”

“You know, Luke,” he snapped. “I’m really trying not to think about my death resounding in legends. You aren’t helping.”

“You could die, and then be revived?” Annabeth said, giving him a small smile in support.

“Or he could just die,” Grover chimed in. “I don’t like that part about the fury of the gods.”

“Really Grover? Not helping.”

“Well,” Mr. D spoke above the rest. “If you're going to die, at least it will resound in legends for all eternity. There are worse ways to go, you know.”

Percy decided he needed better friends. None of them knew how to make him feel better. 

“You know,” Percy said. “I think I'd rather stay alive than die only to be remembered as a myth.”

“Some might call that immortality,” Mr. D said, chugging a Diet Coke. “At least you’d be remembered. Most people don’t get that.”

“Who were those people?” Luke asked. “I recognized Annabeth, and you, but who was the boy?’

Percy shook his head, “I have no idea. I have no idea what that was.” Luke didn’t look like he believed him, and Percy didn’t blame him, considering he felt like he was on the verge of tears.

“That settles it,” Chiron said. “You aren’t going.”

“Chiron,” Percy said. “The oracle spoke to me. I’m meant to have this quest.”

“No, Percy,” Chiron said.

Maybe it was the stress of the day, or the pain of seeing his friends, but Percy snapped. “Really?” he asked. “Did the oracle sputtering a quest mean nothing to you? For god's sake, I’ve heard haiku’s more cryptic than that. Whether you like it or not, Chiron, I’m going on this quest. If I have to stand alone because you won't support me, then so be it.” 

The Son of Poseidon stands alone

“ Did you not just hear what it said?” Annabeth said. ‘You could die.”

“People die everyday!” Percy snapped. “I could die in a car crash tomorrow if the fates choose it. I’d rather die for something important, than live being a coward.”

“You are twelve- years old, Percy,” Chiron said. “Let someone else handle it. You have so much life to live.’

“My age didn’t stop Zeus from sending a minotaur after me, or sending a fury after me,” Percy said. Thunder roared but he didn’t care. He couldn’t let Luke go on this quest. It would ruin everything. 

“Like it or not, I am in this. I have to do this. My mother is trapped in the underworld, and I can get her back if you just give me the chance. I can get the bolt back, trust me.”

“I’ll save your mother, Percy,” Luke said. “You can trust me.” Percy wouldn't trust Luke with a goldfish but that was besides the point.

“Let Luke handle it. I’m proud of you for thinking you can do this all on your own.  But, you need to know what it means - what a quest really means.”

Percy loved Chiron like a father, he really did. He knew this newfound mistrust in him was because of all the lies and secrets he was keeping, but it still hurt.

There were going to be casualties, he realized. People who wouldn’t know him like they did in his first life. People who would probably die in his quest to change things. It seemed his relationship with Chiron was the first to go. 

But, he had to do it. He had to cut the tether that tied him to his old life if he was to protect the life he had now. In that moment, Percy mourned, and accepted the loss. 

He accepted that he might never really know Annabeth like he once had. She might never be his girlfriend… He might never form a bond of family with the seven…Never live to see his sister Estelle born. He might–

He cut the cord.

Percy turned around to leave the big house, but was stopped when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. “Percy, where are you going?” Luke asked. 

“To go find that damn master bolt, since none of you have any idea what you're doing.” Percy threw Luke's hand and left the big house, steam practically rolling off of him in waves.

Percy ran to the Hermes cabin, grabbing what little belongings he had and stuffed them into a backpack he “borrowed” from one of cabin mates. He stuffed the minotaur horn in the bag, some extra clothes, and thankfully some deodorant.

He practically sprinted out of the cabin, hoping not to run into any of his cabin mates who might give him a hard time. Unfortunately or not unfortunately ( he really wasn’t sure), he ran into someone else.

“You're a real idiot, you know?” Clarrise said, standing outside of the  cabin with her arms crossed, like she was his mother scolding him. “Dangerous quest? Death? God's fury? Do those things mean nothing to you?”

“How did you know about that?” he asked, already wishing he could leave.

‘I’m a good eavesdropper and the Oracle was speaking really loud.”

Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Fine,” Clarrise admitted. “I was under the window. You tell anyone and I’ll deny it, okay?” He laughed imaging, Clarisse ducked under the window - plants and dirt stuck in her hair. 

Percy held in a laugh. “Okay.”

“Listen,” Clarisse said. “Take this.” She handed him a small ziplock bag stuffed to the brim with ambrosia squares. “If you're gonna be an idiot, at least be prepared. Wouldn’t want to hear about your  untimely or in your case timely death.”

Percy took the bag gingerly from her, and placed it in his backpack. “Thanks,” he said. “But why are you helping me?”

“You got some balls kid,” she said. “And I admire that. Be safe, okay? You’re just a kid, and you’ve got so much life left ahead of you.” Clarisse left, leaving Percy feeling completely confused. 

He guessed some things had changed for the better. He’d never imagined young Clarisse ever even considering helping him. 

Percy walked through the camp, taking in the sights, breathing in the familiar air, knowing that he might never come back. The wind blew through the trees, and he shivered as it brushed against his skin. 

He stopped in front of his fathers cabin - tall columns, a trickling of water, and the smell of the sea. Percy wasn’t sure what it was that made him enter. He felt something – a pull? He wasn’t sure what, but he dropped his bags at the steps of the cabin, and forced open the large heavy doors.

The cabin smelled musty, like old wood and damp earth. It was a familiar scent, a scent that reminded him of happier times.  A thin coating of dust covered everything - cobwebs and dead spiders had made the corners their home. 

Lost in a sea of memories, Percy found himself transported back in time, to the early days of camp when everything was new and exciting. He recalled meeting Annabeth and how he had loved her from the moment he met her. She challenged him, and made him feel like he wasn’t alone.  She had stood by him through thick and thin, her presence a rock in his ever-shifting world.

And now she was twelve years old…which made things awkward. It wasn’t like he could tell her. Oh Annabeth I’m from the future where we fell in love and quite literally walked through hell together. That was a great way to start a friendship. 

And then there was Grover, his best friend and protector, with his goat hooves and kind heart. Grover's unwavering loyalty had been a constant source of strength, encouraging Percy to believe in himself even on the darkest of days. Together, they had faced monsters and gods, forging an unbreakable bond along the way.

But…that would never happen - not anymore anyways. Annabeth wasn’t the girl he had grown to love, and Grover wasn’t the friend who had fought through thick and thin with him. 

He wished for a sign, any sign that would tell him what to do, where to go. A voice from the heavens, maybe even a prophecy to guide him. But there was nothing. Just the endless silence and the relentless passage of time.

 He wondered if he would ever find his way back to his real life, to the future where he belonged, and to his friends that he belonged to. To his Annabeth, and his Grover.

The dim light from a single candle flickered in the distance, casting eerie shadows across the dusty altar of his fathers. He wasn’t sure who had lit it or how it was still burning. He knelt in front of the small altar and dug his fingers into his palms, leaving behind tiny trails of blood, as he prayed to his father. His voice, raw and filled with desperation, echoed through the empty space. 

“I don’t know why you haven’t claimed me,” Percy said. “I don’t know your reasoning. But, please, don’t let me — Don’t let me turn into Luke. I don’t want to resent you or any of the olympians. I can already feel myself slipping, growing angry. You're my dad, for better or worse, you know?

He paused, straining his ears to catch any sound that might indicate his father's presence. Suddenly, a warm breath of salty air caressed his cheek, sending shivers down his spine. 

Maybe, his father was listening, and maybe there was a reason for him not claiming him. Only time would tell. 

“Percy,” a voice said, like a whisper in the wind. 

He turned abruptly, hoping to see his father, but knowing he never would. Instead, he was shocked to see Luke standing awkwardly at the doorway, waiting for an invitation to come in. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke said. “But, this is for the best, you know? You could get hurt. I don’t want to see you hurt, Percy.”

Percy wasn’t sure if the boy meant it or  not. But he seemed pretty good at pretending he cared. 

“I don’t want to see you hurt either, Luke,” Percy said.

“Percy,” 

“Please Luke, Just–- just leave,” Percy said. “Thank you, really, but I just need to be alone.”

“Okay, Percy,” Luke said. “But remember, you don’t have to be alone.”

He heard the clicking on the wood, of Luke’s converses walking away. Percy wasn’t sure what it was about Luke’s voice that made him follow the boy. But there was something about it – something dangerous. It was like the boy had come to a decision. 

Luke left the cabin, and after waiting a few moments, Percy followed closely behind. He was careful not to close - his feet light, but quick. He walked through the camp towards the hill, where Thallia was still guarding them tirelessly in all her pinecone glory. He hid in the bushes, which really wasn’t one of his finer moments, and  strained to hear the trios conversation 

“Luke,” Annabeth said, her voice quiet and hushed. “I don’t know about this. We should have brought Percy. They think he stole the bolt.”

Damn right he should have come along. It seemed even 6 years younger, Annabeth was still the smartest of the bunch. 

“I don’t know,” Grover said, breaking a piece of Percy’s heart. “You have to admit, he’s not exactly –”

“Normal?” Luke said. “You can say it. Everybody sees it. There's a reason why Chiron didn’t want him on this quest. He doesn’t trust him.”

Grover furrowed his brows. “What do you mean Luke?”

“I mean,” he said, speaking slowly. “How do we know Percy didn’t actually steal the bolt?”

Percy fought the urge to blow up another mountain. Oh, so that was Luke’s plan was it? He intended to turn his friends against him? To convince everyone he had stolen the boat, all the while Luke was a double agent and the real culprit.

Luke was lucky he was an adult, because twelve year old Percy would have slapped the shit out of him.

“It's just,” Annabeth said. “How could Percy steal the bolt? He didn’t know anything about the gods until a week ago.”

“Are you really buying that, Beth? He fights like no one I've ever seen –better than me– better than anyone. He fought like a man, processed - like a general with years of training.”

“Like a god,” Annabeth said. “He fought like a god.”

“No one fights that way without years of training,” Luke said. “Percy…he isn’t who he says he is?”

“It’s not possible,” Grover said. “You don’t know him. Not like I do. I went to school with him for a whole year. Maybe, his mom put him in fencing classes or something growing up?”

“We should get going,” Luke said. “We don’t want to miss the deadline.”

Percy couldn’t help but notice Luke changing the subject when his innocence was brought into question. Not that Percy was very innocent, but it still hurt.

“You're right,” Annabeth said, and it broke his heart. He knew she didn’t really know him, but for some reason he still wanted to believe that she would stand up for him. 

The group walked down the hill where he assumed argus must have been waiting for them in the camp van. In another life, he was leading that quest. In another life, Luke had been left behind. 

Percy didn’t want to know what else he had changed. 

Chapter Text

The most annoying thing about following someone without being seen was paying attention. Of course, when you have ADHD paying attention is never easy to do. Over the years, Percy had gained some control of his ADHD self. He’d figured out ways to help himself concentrate and be more productive. But, now that he was back in his twelve year old body, all the control seemed to have jumped out the window. 

“You know,” A voice said. “It’s not polite to stare at people.”

Percy sat in a Mcdonald’s, staring at Luke, Annabeth and Grover going over plans to get the lightning bolt. So far, he had overheard their plans to find the bolt in LA (because where else would it be?)

Percy kept his hello kitty sunglasses on and lowered the bucket hat that concealed his face to look up at the teenage boy who was judging him from above. 

The kid was far taller than your average highschooler. So tall that Percy wouldn't have been surprised if he was a cyclops in disguise sent to kill him. He had a mop of curly hair that stuck up in every direction like he had just rolled out of bed, and blinding white teeth.

“It’s not polite to get into other peoples business, either,” Percy said, taking a sip from a juicebox that he was sure made his twelve year old self look adorable. 

The kid raised an eyebrow at him, and sat next to him, the plastic crinkling under his weight. “Where are your parents, kid?”

“Where are yours?” Percy asked, taking another sip of the juice that he was really wishing was coffee.

“I’m an adult,” the older kid said. 

Percy raised an eyebrow, looking at his boyish face. “But, are you?”

The kid rolled his eyes. “I’m eighteen, which is older than you. Seriously, Kiddo, where are your parents? You shouldn’t be alone. It’s not safe for someone your age to be unsupervised.”

“I’m not unsupervised,” he said. “You're with me.”

“Kid,” the boy said, and Percy could practically feel him rolling his eyes.. “If you would just let me, I can help you. What's your name?”

“Percy,” he said. “You?”

“Harry,” he said. “I’m a senior at Goode High School. You're in the fifth grade?’

Goode highschool? Man, that brought back memories. He’d only gone there for orientation, but the school had left an impression - mostly because of his stepdad, Paul Blofis.

“Sixth,” Percy said. “Thank you very much.”

“Percy?” the boy said. “Why does that name sound so familiar? I’m sure I’ve heard it before.”

“It's a common name,” he said. 

“No, it's really not.” The boy was looking at him suspiciously, realization suddenly flooding through his mind. “Oh my god! You’re the kid – the kid everyone is looking for.”

Oh shit, he had completely forgotten about the small fact that he was one of America's most wanted criminals at the moment. Why had he been such an annoying and troublesome kid?

“Ummm, no I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You're the kid that kidnapped your mom, and destroyed your dads car. You're all over the news.``

“I think you’re confused,” Percy said. “Really, I’m fine. I’m waiting for my parents to pick me up. I always walk here after school.” Percy got up from the cheap plastic Mcdonalds bench, and tried to escape out the door before Luke, or Annabeth noticed the commotion.

The boy stopped him, planting a firm hand on Percy’s shoulder. “It's 12 in the afternoon.”

“We had a half day,” Percy said, and shook off the boy’s grip. 

“I’m going to call the police,” the kid said. He pulled out a cheap plastic flip phone from the depths of his pockets, but before he could call anyone, Percy snatched it out of his and dropped it in his glass of water. The water spilled all over the table, and sputtered, the screen going black. 

“What the hell,” Harry said. “That's a razor, and it's new.”

“Oh, Cry me a river,” Percy said. “That's what you get for not minding your own business.”

“Kid,” the boy said again. “Seriously, stay right here. I’ll have the staff call the police.”

“Please don’t, okay,” Percy tried to pull out all of the skills he had learned from sixth grade drama class. While he really couldn’t remember anything about famous plays, musicals, or acting techniques, maybe he could pull out his best improv skills. “My step dad was abusive, okay? The absolute worst, my mom and I just went on a vacation to the beach. But, Gabe…Gabe didn’t like that…he followed us.” At least all of it wasn’t a lie. He thought he had heard somewhere that the best lies are steeped in the truth. 

Percy tried to make his voice shake, and stared at the fluorescent overhead lights so intently that his eyes started to water as if he were actually crying. 

“Then call the police,” the kid said. “They can help you.”

Percy shook his head, fake tears streaming down his face. “No they can’t. No one can.”

Percy looked back at the trio he had been following through his fake tears, and felt his hand clench at his sides.

They were gone.The stupid kid distracted him that he hadn’t even realized they had left. 

Percy didn’t want to do it - he had been holding off on it, because some part of it felt wrong. It felt invasive. Percy himself had his memories wiped from him and had been forced to wander the country without any idea who he was. 

But, desperate times.

Focusing himself, he pulled on the mist. He focused on the magical shield that separated the godly from ungodly, and pulled on its smokey tendrils. He lifted his hands in the air, and snapped. 

It was like a small bomb had gone off. All at once, the boy's demeanor changed completely - his shoulders relaxing and jaw loosening. 

“Hey kid,” the boy said, before walking away. “Nice hat.”

“Thanks,” Percy said, smiling at him. It was a real shame – despite his annoying attitude the kid was really nice. 

The kid went to walk away but Percy stopped him. “Be safe. Okay?” He told the boy. 

The kid looked at him with amusement. “Thanks, I guess. You're a strange kid. You know that?” 

Percy smiled watching the teenage boy retreat from the fast food joint. “The strangest.”

Percy might not know where the trio was now, but he knew where they were going. Auntie Em’s. He shuddered just thinking of the labyrinth of garden statues, and greasy cheeseburgers. 

He quickly left the McDonald's, throwing away his trash in a bin. Even if was in a time crunch he still refused to litter. 

Honestly, he didn’t think the trio would be able to survive the snake haired demon without him. Before, he had been able to swiftly kill the creature because of her odd crush on his father. But, without him, they were doomed to fail. 

He knew Medusa wasn't too far away from him - only a few miles up the road and about a three hour trek. With his NYC walking skills he’d probably get there in two. If he rushed he’d be able to get there before the trio did. 

The New Jersey forest was about as mysterious as an episode of Ghost Whisperer. While he didn’t have Jennifer Love Hewitt to help him cross into the light, he did have a strange chill running through his bones, and a McDonald’s happy meal in his stomach. 

He walked through the ancient cautiously. Knowing his luck, he’d run into the Jersey devil or even worse, Ben Shapiro. He kept walking until he saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990’s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell.

Medusa’s lair. It was comical how underwhelming the place really was. If he was a monster, he’d want his home to be in some creepy temple littered with bones or something.

Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken. He stared at them for a short moment, knowing he was looking at some people's last moments. 

Before knocking on the door, he took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself. He could do this. He had to do this. 

He heard the hissing of her snakes, and the clattering of her heals before he saw her. Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of him was Medusa. Her pale snake-like skin, and toxic waste green eyes made his breath catch. How had he defeated her at twelve years old? Luck? The power of friendship? He didn’t know. 

He tried to control his rapidly beating heartbeat, as he stared at the woman, but he was unsuccessful. All he managed to do was panic more. 

She said, "Child, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents? "

“Hi,” he told the snake lady. “I got a little lost. I was wondering if you could help me?”

“Of course,” she hissed. “Come in, Come in. Let me make you some food, yes?”

“Please,” he said. “I’m starving.” Oddly, he wasn’t lying. All he had eaten that day was some sorry excuse for pancakes from McDonald’s breakfast menu. 

All he cared about was finding the dining area. And sure enough, just like he remembered there it was at the back of the warehouse , a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything an ADHD growing boy would want.

"Please, sit down, " Aunty Em said.

Percy popped a squat on the cold metal bench, his legs instantly relaxing.

She disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking. Before he knew it, she'd brought him plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and X X L servings of french fries. He was so thankful he was young again and didn’t have to worry about acid reflux from eating too much fried food. 

“How did you get lost, Percy?” she said, sitting down on the table. Percy fought the urge to roll his eyes. How did she not expect him to notice that she had said his name when he’d never given it to her?

“You know,” he said. “The typical way - was too stubborn to look at a map.”

“Of course, of course,” she said. “You men and your maps.”

He laughed. “Yeah, men are the worst, aren’t they?”

"So, you sell gnomes," he said, trying to sound interested. “They look so real.”

 "Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know." 

"A lot of business on this road?" 

"Not so much, no. Since the highway was built... most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get."

“I’m sure that's terrible,” Percy said, rolling his eyes. “However, do you manage?”

“I'll get by,” she said. “The lost always find their way here.”

“And here I am,” Percy said. “Lost in the woods, somewhere in New Jersey.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and Percy just laughed. Maybe she wasn’t as scary as he remembered. 

“So, Medusa,” he said, tearing it off like a bandaid. “You talk to my dad lately? It seems he’s in contact with everyone except for me, which is quite honestly really offensive. You’d think after I killed a minotaur and a hellhound he’d at least say hello.”

The gorgon's eyes went wide, and she stood up rather dramatically from her metal chair. “How did you know?”

“Oh please,” he said. “Aunty Em’s Garden Emporium? You might as well have a flashing sign that says demigods come here if you want to be eaten.”

“You think?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “You could be a little more creative. Maybe put up a Starbucks sign instead. Everybody loves Starbucks.”

“You’re daddy, likes to throw away toys he’s played with. Hurts doesn’t it?”

“Can you please not refer to my father as my daddy?” he asked. “It makes me want to vomit.”

“Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest, Percy? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain."

“Yes,” Percy said, “I probably would be better off. But, I’d rather live a life of hardship than not live at all. I’d rather a life serving the Gods than a life with Kronos in charge.

“How do you–” 

“How do I know?” he asked. “One day people might know. But, you never will.”

Medusa’s eyes flashed with something dark and sinister. Her head hissed, like snakes from hell (which was a pretty accurate description.) “Say goodbye, Perseus Jackson,” she said, hissing.

Percy laughed. “Goodbye.” He uncapped riptide, quickly, and swung the sword at her neck. With a loud crash, her head fell to the ground completely detached from her body. The thing rolled for several second, leaving a trail of blood behind it.

That was rather anticlimactic. 

Gold blood coated his sword, but he wiped it away with a napkin on the table. Gross. 

“Did you all hear that?” a voice said, walking into the room. 

Oh, shit. He’d recognized that voice anywhere. Annabeth . It seemed they finally caught up with him just in time. 

Not wasting a second, he dove behind the kitchen, his knees slamming on the sticky linoleum and hid himself firmly between two soggy cardboard boxes leaking with strange liquids. 

“Is that?” he heard another voice say – grover.

“It’s Medusa,” Annabeth said. “But, who killed it?”

“Don’t touch it,” he heard Luke say. “Just leave it there, okay?”

He really hoped his friends wouldn’t accidentally petrify themselves. 

“I don’t like this place,” Grover said. “Can we get out of here? Those statues are looking at me weirdly. And that one looks like my Uncle Ferdinand.”

Percy winced. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t know it was his uncle Ferdinand. 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said. “I second that.”

Yes , Percy thought. Please get out of here so I can get out of this sticky hell hole. 

“Who killed it?” Luke said out loud, half mumbling to himself. “Look at that.”

“Look at what?” Annabeth said. “I really don’t want to keep looking at this head.”

“It’s a clean cut - strong with no hesitation.” Percy could hear the suspicion in his voice, but also the cautious wonder. Gods , it chilled him to the bone 

“So?” Grover asked. 

“It means someone else is after the lightning bolt, and they're strong - willing to kill with no hesitation.”

He heard Grover make a nervous bleating sound. “That’s not good. I really don’t like that. I really don’t like that.”

“We need to get out of here,” Luke said. “The blood is fresh. They’re probably still around.”

“But,” Annabeth said, her voice strangely high pitched. “If it’s a monster shouldn’t we kill it?”

“No monster did this,” Luke said. “A Demigod did.”

“What?”  Both Grover and Annabeth exclaimed. Percy could hear their disbelief all the way in his little hiding spot. 

“Only the head is left,” Luke said. “Celestial bronze did this. A monster can’t hold a celestial bronze sword.”

“A rogue demigod?” Annabeth asked. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know,” Luke said. “But I have a feeling this quest just got a whole lot worse.

They really had not idea just how bad it could get. 

Chapter Text

Birds…Like a lot of Fucking Birds.

It took Percy two hours to wash out Medusa's monster guts from his clothes in the store's fountain. The sticky substance clung to his clothes, his skin, and filled his nose with a scent he wasn’t likely to forget. 

Eventually, he gave up, threw the messy shirt away and borrowed one he found in Aunty Em’s gift shop. Aunty Em’s, it read. For All Your Garden Needs. He wasn’t sure why the creature invested in a gift shop when no one ever survived to actually take any souvenirs home.

After his impromptu bath, he raided the vending machines in the building, stuffing his bag with Yogos, Oreo cakesters, and Ding Dongs. If the monsters didn’t kill him the high content of sugar probably would. But hey, beggars can’t be choosers, a bag of Yogo’s could save him from starving.

Before he left Aunty Em’s he sat down for a moment to figure out his next plan of action. Most likely, the trio was about to head out on an Amtrak to the St, Louis Arch. If he remembered correctly, they left at noon, which gave him an hour with some time to spare. The closest Jersey Station was only about a half an hour walk. So, he would have some time to figure out a way to sneak on without dying or getting sent to child jail. 

He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He could do this. He could do this. He repeated it in his head, like a mantra or One Direction song lyrics. 

Maybe it was the song lyrics running through his head or his lack of sleep, but sitting at that metal table, contemplating his future, he decided to do something stupid (albeit kinda awesome.) He walked over to the head of Medusa which still sat on the floor, where Luke had left it before he left. 

Then, He firmly wrapped up Medusa's head, stuffing it into the largest Fed-Ex box he could find, and sealed it with some magical tape that made a fun sound when he closed it. He wrote on the front of it in big red letters that took up half the box (so they really wouldn’t question just how impertinent he really could be.) But, instead of writing his name like he had done last time, he smiled at himself as he wrote a new sender on the front.

To the Gods

Empire State Building, 600th Floor.

Courtesy of Luke Castellan

Ha . Was he petty? Yes, yes, he was, but he was also tired and running on Mcdonalds pancakes and audacity. 

He stuffed some drachmas into the bag on the package and it disappeared in a pop and a flourish. He would pay millions of dollars to see the god's reaction when they opened up their present. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get electrocuted by Zeus. But Hopefully Luke would (He was joking…Kinda.) 

The funny thing was he realized; he’d rather face the god's ire than deal with the New Jersey Transit Line. Listen, Percy didn’t have the best track record with trains or buses. If there was a god of trains, then surely, he had some weird vendetta against Percy because quite frankly it was getting ridiculous. There was the incident when he first ever saw the fates after his bus broke down. Then he exploded another bus escaping from the kindly ones. THEN, he held off a whole hoard of eagles while trying to get to Alaska. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him that his real enemies were trains and not titans. 

He was happy to finally leave behind Aunty Em’s, hopefully he would never have to see the place ever again. It only took him twenty-five minutes to get to the closest train station, and already the halls were filled with tourists taking up space with their overly large bags, and commuters chugging red bulls like grape juice. 

 He walked through the train halls trying to look like he belonged there. (which wasn’t that hard because he was stuck around a group of fifth graders going on a trip) When one of the MTA workers went to scan his ticket which he didn’t have, he pretended he was going to throw up all over the hall, and the ticketer was distracted enough that she scanned someone else's instead. 

Honestly, of all the plans he had ever made that was probably the worst one. He was shocked it worked. 

It wasn’t hard to separate himself from the group of kids either after he was on the train. He sat himself next to an elderly couple, enjoying their retirement. Could demigods retire? He didn’t know. The couple talked to him the entire first day on the train of the benefits of kale, and a pyramid scheme they were a part of. Percy’s life might be better if he too subscribed to a monthly supply of ground kale. Who knew?

Eventually, the kale talk became too much for him to handle, and he started to pace up and down the trains, trying to figure out his next steps. But that was when he saw his stupid face smiling up at him from a missing persons poster. Of all the pictures they chose, they had to pick the one where he had a black eye from tripping over his shoelaces and was missing one of his last baby teeth. 

Perseus James Jackson, it read. Wanted and Extremely Dangerous.

He ripped it off the wall quickly before anyone had seen it and shoved it into his jean pockets. The paper crinkled and the sound felt like nails on a chalkboard to him.

Dang, he was going to have to be more careful if he didn’t want to end up in the back of a squad car, handcuffed and sent to juvie. Knowing his luck, they would probably send him to the Wilderness School and he’d be introduced to Piper and Leo 6 years before he was supposed to. 

He went back to his seat and was surprised to find that the elderly couple was no longer there. In fact, no one else was in the train car (which wasn’t suspicious at all.) The only person in the entire car was an older woman eating out of a box of cookies with birds on the front. 

“Oh, Hello Darling,” a little old woman said, and smiled up at him. “Would you like to buy some cookies? There for a good cause.” She pulled out a box from under her seat that read Bird Clusters.

“No thanks,” Percy said. “I’m all out of cash.”

“Are you sure?” the woman asked again. “They are bird shaped with a chocolate minty taste. A sign of Goodluck.”

Percy laughed slightly at the woman. “I thought birds were supposed to be an omen of death. You ever seen Birds? Like the movie? No thank you.”

“Why would I ever give you something that would bring you harm? An omen? Really?” the woman asked, taking a bit of a Bird Cluster.

“Trust me,” Percy said. “I’m all good. But enjoy your…birds – I guess.”

Percy tried to walk away, really, he did. But the strange old lady who was very obviously not just some random lady began to growl (Yes, Growl.)

Percy sighed. Why couldn’t he get one peaceful day? Really was that too much to ask for.

“Let me guess,” Percy said. “You're the goddess of birds or something? Real creative. I really couldn’t tell you wished me harm with that whole it's for good luck thing.”

“I’m not a goddess,” she said, which honestly surprised Percy. “I’m just some old lady wanting to sell you cookies. I’ll give you a discount.”

“The cookies aren’t going to turn me into a guinea pig, are they? I really can’t deal with that again.”
“Umm well no,” she said, looking like she had swallowed a whole lemon.

“A bird then?”

She sighed. “Probably.”

“So are all birds just people who have eaten your “delicious” cookies?” Thousands of conspiracy theorists everywhere were having a party knowing that birds really weren’t real after all. 

Percy hadn’t planned his day to be like an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Someplace, somewhere M. Night Shamelon was planning to make a wretched movie with this exact same plot only with a smaller budget. 

“It would be so fun to be a bird though,” she said. “Wouldn’t it? You could fly around without a care in the world.”

“You can take your cookies and shove it.”

“Rude,” she said, her voice starting to sound deeper, and gravely.

“What’s rude,” Percy said, his hand tightening on Riptide in his pocket. “Is thinking I’d enjoy eating worms for the rest of my life.”

“Fine,” she said. She stood up from her chair, and it was like she stepped out of Mary Poppins bag. Her legs kept growing bigger and bigger. There was no way the cramped seats could have held all of her.

“What the hell are you?”

“I am Strix,” she said. “The bird of misfortune, and these, my dear, are my friends” All at once, hundreds of birds exploded from the boxes of cookies that surrounded the woman. They were the weirdest looking birds he had ever seen. Their beaks were made of shining metal, and feathers that looked sharper than knives.

Percy launched himself out of the way, and they darted at him like arrows. Several of them embedded themselves in the cloth seat around him, while others were not fazed and circled around to attack again. 

“What kinda birds are these!” He scrambled up from the ground and dodged more birds behind another seat. 

“Those are Styphalian Birds , my dear,” she hissed. “They can eat through bronze. You stand no chance.”

“Stynpha what?”

She growled. “STYM–FAY–LEE–ON. You should respect them. They are the last thing you will ever see.”

The birds tried to pick at him, and if it wasn’t for his bucket hat, and hello kitty sunglasses, he’d probably be missing an eye. Percy plunged his hand into pockets, and uncapped Riptide, decapitating a bird in the process. 

“Not Elvis!” the woman yelled. The idea was so ridiculous that Percy didn’t even want to think about it. Hopefully he hadn’t just murdered the king. 

He swung his sword in a wide arc, keeping the birds at a distance from him. One of the birds rushed at him as fast as a bolt of lightning and embedded itself into Percy’s leg. 

Not wasting a moment, he grabbed the bird by its small body, and ripped it from his leg. The bird writhed in his grip, but Percy threw it at the Strix. 

Trapped inside the death container moving hundreds of miles per hour, Percy knew he had to get out and quickly or he was a dead man. It was only a matter of time before he wasn’t able to dodge one of the Angry Birds, and he’d bleed to death Julius Caesar style. 

On the other side of the train car, about 200 feet away was a bright red button that read, EMERGENCY BREAK. It was a good thing Percy really liked pressing buttons. 

The only problem was there was an army of birds between him and the button. 

Taking a deep breath, Percy launched himself, running across the expanse with every ounce of energy he had left. He darted through the flying birds trying to eat him alive. A couple of them flew past him, their beaks scratching him.  Just as a bird shot towards him, Percy’s hand touched the cold plastic of the button, and pushed.

The train lurched, and Percy almost threw up what little food was in his stomach. He could hear the metal gears grinding to a stop, and confused passengers calling out from other cars. Luckily, the bird that was aiming at him, missed when the train stopped, and landed in the wall mere inches from his head. 

“Why did the train stop?” he heard voices say from the other side of the metal door. Annabeth. Well, at least he knew they were on the same train as him. 

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Grover said. “Probably a sheep on the tracks.”

“We’re in St. Louis! Annabeth exclaimed.

Gods, they were going up to the arch, and if he didn’t kill this stupid monster and soon, they were going to die up there.

He had hoped that maybe the trio would be smarter than they had been the first time around and not gone into the metal death trap six-hundred feet in the sky. But hell hath no fury like Annabeth chase and her weird obsession with architecture. 

“Maybe,” the monster said, and Percy had almost forgotten she was there for a moment. “I should play with your little friends. They might like to try my cookies.”

“Trust me,” Percy said, “Being an animal is overrated.”

While the monster was distracted, Percy uncapped Riptide, and swung it in a wide arc towards the woman. Unfortunately, several of her birds got in the way, and went falling down to the ground quickly. 

Shit. How the hell was he supposed to kill her with all those fucking birds getting in the way?

An idea popped into his head, albeit a stupid one (most of his ideas were stupid.) If he wanted to get through the birds, he’d have to be faster. More specifically, his sword needed to be faster. 

With all his might, Percy threw his sword at the woman, the point aimed directly towards her. It moved through the flock of birds quickly and implanted itself into the monster's shoulder.

Stix’s eyes grew wide, and she looked down at the sword in her body with shock. “Oh,” she said, before disappearing into a cloud of gold dust.

He really couldn’t believe that worked. 

For a second, all he did was breathe. He fell to the ground, his body giving up on him completely. Sweat dripped down his body, and he felt completely exhausted. It really hadn’t been at all too hard, but his small body still wasn’t used to this type of exercise.

With all of his willpower, he forced himself up from the ground, his muscles screaming in protest. He walked through carcasses of poor dead birds, careful not to step on any of them. 

He moved through the other train cars to make sure no one had been hurt by the swarm of angry birds. Luckily, no one had been hurt. The travelers went on with their life as if he didn't just almost die moments ago. 

But there was a small, tiny problem. Annabeth, Luke and Grover were gone. He only prayed they would still be alive when he found them again.

Chapter Text

He could smell the smoke before he saw it. It burned his nostrils and eyes, taking away the sense of anything else. Above the arch, Smoke spiraled skyward, drifting off into the air. The moment he saw the smoke, his arms were already pumping at his sides, his legs carrying him as fast as they could. 

Just when he killed that stupid bird lady, of course the St Louis arch had to catch fire…again. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised by anything anymore.

He played bowling with sad tourists who were probably regretting not going to Disney world instead. He leaped over park benches and dodged the tourists, his heart racing as fast as his feet. Every muscle in his body was alight with adrenaline, driving him forward. Despite the danger, there was an exhilarating sense of freedom in his flight, a primal thrill in this race against time. 

He even ran into a literal child, and the eight-year-old lost their ice cream, mint chocolate chip splattering all over the scorching pavement. Oops. If he had money, he would have bought him a new one. “I’m sorry,” he screamed over his shoulder and kept running. 

A small crowd had begun to form at the entrance of the arch. Dozens of people stood looking up at the fire, cameras in hand, taking as many photos as possible. Their hushed whispers burned in his ears. 

“Do you see that?”

“My mom’s up there–”

 “There are kids up there–”

Their whispers almost drowned out the sounds of sirens - police officers and paramedics flooding to the already hectic scene. 

Percy was afraid —truly afraid. There was a pit in stomach growing larger, filling his entire body. Thoughts like storms raged in his mind. What if he didn’t get to them in time? What if they died? What if he ruined everything? 

He pushed through them all, anxious to help his friends battling the mother of monsters at the top of the arch. He felt someone grab his arm, as he tried to go through the entrance. He looked up to see a security guard staring down, sweat beading down his red face.

“You can’t go up there,” a security guard said.

“Why the hell not?” Percy practically yelled at the poor man. Percy tried to pull his arms away, but the man held on tightly.

“Do you not see the flames? Or the smoke?” the man asked. 

“No,” Percy said. “Didn’t see a single thing.” He kept pulling on his arm, but the man tightened his grip, and began to pull him away from the entrance. Seriously though, that was just embarrassing. 

 “Come on kid,” the man said, and Percy rolled his eyes so much they almost popped out of his head. “Let me call your parents.”

“Goodluck getting in contact with them,” he said. 

Percy suddenly kicked out his leg, connecting his sneakers with the man's shins.

“What the hell, kid!” the man asked.  He loosened his grip enough for Percy to dart out his grasp and enter the burning monument. 

“Kid!” The guard yelled again. “Kid! You can’t go in there!” Of course, Percy didn’t listen to him and kept on running. 

The inside of the arch was just as smoky as the outside. The gift shop and entrance were deserted, but he could hear yelling all the way up from the top of the arch. Teddy bears, and souvenir T-shirts littered the ground like some kind of disaster movie.

He scanned the desolate place for anything and was thankful to see a set of stairs. He ran up the stairs, knowing the elevator was out of commission, and jumped over ruble that had fallen from the ceiling.

“Help me,” he heard a voice say, and he stopped dead in tracks. 

His ears burned, and he heard the voice again. He rounded the corner of the stairs, and immediately rushed into action when he saw a kid laying on the staircase, his knee a bloody mess. A thick piece of glass stuck out from his leg, coating the teenager's jeans in red sticky blood. 

The kid's curly hair was plastered to his forehead from blood, his breathing shallow and raspy.

“Are you okay?” he asked the kid, Percy knelt down at his side, and looked at his injuries. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. The whole arch shook. I felt like It must have been an earthquake,” he said, holding his knee "Just a flesh wound.”

It wasn’t just a flesh wound. Although he’d never been as good in first aid as some of the Apollo kids, he could still tell if something was fatal. 

Percy had held hand to the gaping wound, but no matter the pressure he applied the blood had still gushed between his fingers and oozed under his hand.

“That bad, huh?” the kid asked. 

Percy plastered a smile on his face. “It’s not bad at all.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” the boy said. “I know I’m dying. That shard probably hit an artery or something. You have people trapped up there?” the boy asked looking up the stairs.

Percy nodded. “Yeah, my friends.”

“Go,” the boy said, and pushed Percy's hands off of his leg. “You can still get to them.”

“But–”

“Please.”

“What’s your name?” he asked the boy who couldn’t have been older than sixteen.

The boy smiled, a weightlessness crossing his features. “Thomas.”

“I’m Percy,” he said, trying to smile. 

“Go,” the boy said. “Please.”

Percy nodded at the boy, and backed up slowly from him, rubbing the blood off on his jeans. 

I’m sorry, he thought. I’m so sorry.

He ran up the stairs and didn’t look back. 

When Percy finally got up to the top of the arch, he was almost too late. There was a gaping hole in the arch, wind blew all around them from the hole, blowing paper and trash all around them. 

The most terrifying part was Luke was dangling off with only one hand holding him up. Echidna, the mother of monsters, knelt down to where Luke was dangling dangerously from the hole in the arch. She grabbed his face in her bony hand, forcing the demi-god to look up at her. 

He looked all around them. The Chimera was no insight, thank the gods. Bu, Percy wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Maybe Luke had killed it? Or maybe things were different this time and the chimera didn't come with Echidna. 

He could barely hear her against the sound of wind whipping across his ears. “You’re going to die, son of Hermes,” the monster said. “Your quest will fail, and you will be forgotten about. Time will not remember you. No one will.”

Percy walked out of his hiding spot, Riptide glowing in his hand. “I will.”

The woman laughed- dared to laugh. “Who is this? A child–come to stop me? I’m so afraid.”

“Percy, no!” he heard Annabeth yell from the corner. He hadn’t noticed her before – too distracted by the giant hole in a national monument. But she was in the corner, breathing heavily, a giant gash on her forehead. 

“Ah,” Echidna said. “The little lightning thief. You’re smaller than a toothpick. I could break you so easily.”

“For fucks sake,” he said. “I’m not the lightning thief.”

He kept his eyes on Annabeth, and the blood poured from her head. He looked around. Where was Grover? Was he okay? He couldn’t be dead - fallen off the side of the arch and into the Mississippi River. 

With every bit of strength, he had left in his body, Percy called the water from below towards him. He wasn’t sure his tiny body would be able to handle it, but he did it anyway, forcing the water up from miles below them. 

The pain in his gut was terrible, as he pulled the water towards him. He felt like if he made one wrong move, that pull in his gut would snap completely, and he would collapse from the effort. 

The water came rushing towards him in a giant tidal wave mixed with fish and litter. He swore he saw some cheeseburgers, even a barbie mixed in the water. He moved the water, so it surrounded the monster completely on all sides, trapping her.

Echidna looked up, genuine fear showing on her face for the first time. She backed away from Luke who was still holding on with all his might, his knuckles turning white. “Who are you?” she asked.

Percy smirked. “The son of Poseidon.” Percy clenched his hand in a fist, the water swirling all around the mother of monsters. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head, backing further away from him. “You're something different. Your aura. I can smell it on you – god killer.”

Percy smiled. “You should add your name to the list.” All at once, he let go of the water, and it crashed down on the monster. He heard her screams, but he didn’t care. He held the water around her, drowning her. 

The pain in his stomach was growing, permeating through his now pounding head - like molten knives stabbing through his eyes. He kept holding it, and holding it, but Echidna still lived. 

He screamed, falling to his knees, but he still held the water around her. Eventually, he saw the woman slowly begin to give up - her eyes rolled back into her head, and she grew limp.

In an instant, she disappeared into a flash of gold dust. He moved the water with his mind, sweat pouring down his back, as he broke up the dust so that she couldn’t reform. The water went hurtling back down from once it came, all the way back to the Mississippi river. 

The moment the water returned from once it came, Percy ran to where Luke was still holding on to the arch. 

“Give me your hand, Luke,” he commanded. 

For a moment, Percy considered dropping the boy. It would make everything so much easier. He wondered how Luke would feel knowing he’d been betrayed by someone he cared about.

Luke nodded and swung his arm up into Percy’s. With resolve, Percy grabbed it, and with every piece of strength that was left in his body, he pulled Luke back to the safety of the arch. 

Both kids fell back to the metal ground, panting as sweat pooled all around them. 

“You killed her,” Luke said, panting. “You really killed her.”

Percy laughed. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

Percy was exhausted - completely exhausted, but an energy pulsed through his veins, like someone had taken an electrical cord and plugged it into his body. He wanted to relax - to let his muscles melt into the ground, but Grover was still missing, and he wasn’t sure how bad Annabeth’s injuries were. 

“Percy?” Annabeth asked, looking at Percy like he had finally gone and lost his mind. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He smiled at them. “Surprise”

He felt his legs give out completely and was surprised to find Annabeth had caught him. 

“Where is Grover?” he asked, his voice shaking from the effort to keep himself awake. “Is he okay?”

Annabeth laughed. “He’s outside somewhere. He stopped to get ice cream at a food truck.”

Percy laughed but winced from the effort. “I could use some ice cream right about now.”

“We have to get out of here,” Luke said, practically fuming. “Those mortal police officers should be here soon. Annabeth?”

“I’ve got him,” she said, holding Percy up. 

Luke looked back and forth at Annabeth and him with something close to jealousy. Anger flashed on his face, and annoyance.

“Without me, that Chimera would have eaten you for breakfast. You’d be halfway to Tarturus right now slowly burning alive for all eternity. Trust me, it wouldn’t be fun.”

“I’m in charge of this quest, Percy. You had no right to come here.”

“I guess you're right,” he said. “I should have just let Echidna kill you. I’m sure you would have love being cat food.,”

“WILL YOU BOTH JUST STOP!”

Percy flinched at Annabeth’s voice and stopped talking. She was glaring at both of them, her face read and blotchy, looking one second away from murdering both of them. 

“Percy, you shouldn’t have come here,” Annabeth said. “Luke, you can at least say thank you because he did save your life.”

“Fine,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Let's get out of here,” Percy said. “For all we know this arch could come down at any moment.”

“I’m not going to fight you on that,” Luke said, like it killed him to admit it.

Annabeth practically dragged him down the stairs, all energy completely drained from him. He couldn’t wait until his body was strong enough to not pass out every time he controlled water. 

He froze when he saw the body of the poor boy still laying on the steps, a puddle of blood surrounding him almost like a halo. 

“What is it, Percy?” Luke said.

Percy tried not to cry. “He’s dead.”

“He’s just a mortal,” Luke said. “What does it really matter in the long run?”

Percy’s head snapped to him, and he wrenched himself from Annabeth's arms. He didn’t have to look and Luke to tell that he really meant what he said. 

He could see Annabeth's shock at her friend's words, and Percy couldn’t blame her. People usually found some type of remorse when they saw a dead body.

“Percy?” Annabeth said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t–”

Percy laughed, even though there was nothing funny about their situation at all. “You don’t realize, do you?”

Luke looked at him like he had grown a second head, and maybe he had. “Don’t realize what Percy? Did you hit your head or something?”

“You don’t realize how much you sound like our parents.”

Percy had never seen the boy look so angry before, his rage pooling through him like lava. His fists clenched at his sides, a vein bulging from his forehead so strongly he thought it might pop.  “I am nothing like my father. Do you hear me? Nothing!”

“I wonder if they think we don’t matter? We're just half-god to them. What do our lives really mean in the long run?” Percy threw the boy's words back at him, and he flinched. 

“That not-”

 “Not what you meant? His name was Thomas, and he mattered. He had a life, a family, and people who loved him. He mattered, Luke. If you think he didn't, you are no better than the gods.”

Luke walked down the empty staircase, leaving him alone with Annabeth.

“What?” Percy asked. 

“” You didn’t have to be so cruel; you know. What he said wasn’t right but–”

“Me? Cruel?” Percy scoffed. People needed to stop defending that boy. “Please, Annabeth, when I’m cruel, you’ll know.”

“You didn’t have to speak to him that way,” Annabeth said, shouting after him. 

Percy turned back around quickly. “Why not?” Percy said. “He’s seventeen years old, almost an adult. He should start acting like it and stop blaming his father for all his issues. I understand his pain, I do. I understand his anger–”

“Then why?” Annabeth asked, quietly. “Why speak to him that way if you understand him? Please, help me understand.” There was no malice in her eyes, no fear either, just the genuine look of curiosity and thirst for knowledge that she always had. 

“I refuse to let them win,” Percy said. “I want to be better – do better than our parents have done. Do you know what's worse than misery? Being stuck in it. He needs to get his head out of his ass and look at the big picture.”

“You know Percy,” Annabeth said. “Sometimes–”

“Sometimes what?” he asked.

"What made you so cynical?” She asked. “When Grover talked about you, I expected to meet some stupid kid who didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”

“That sounds exactly like me,” he said. 

“I don’t think you are stupid Percy,” she said.

“You’d be surprised.”

“But really?” she asked, her face full of concern. “Why are you so hard on him?”

“Just because?” Percy said, and he felt himself growing angry. “You heard what he said? He said that the boy's life didn’t matter. That’s not okay.” 

He’d forgotten until that moment just how much young Annabeth worshiped the ground Luke walked on. He hated to see her heart get broken again. 

“I heard, Percy,” Annabeth said, like he was some wounded dog seconds away from snapping. Maybe he was. “But Luke is a friend. He isn’t your enemy. You can trust him - you can trust me.”

Percy held in a scoff. If only they knew. Luke couldn’t be trusted. 

"You're right,” Percy said. “He is my friend. Do you know the secret to a good long friendship? Calling them out on their bullshit. Holding them accountable when no one else will and helping them grow.”

“Are you sure you're the same Percy I've been told about?" she asked. “Never pegged you to have such deep thoughts."

“Oh,” he said. “I’ve always had deep thoughts. Just never really had a reason to say them out loud before. Can we please get out of here? The cops might be here at any moment, and I’d really like not to get arrested.”

“Fine,” she huffed, and they made their way into the small gift shop.

Luke was standing there waiting for them, his arms crossed across his chest. He was leaning against the wall, staring at his feet, seemingly in deep thought. 

“What took you so long?” he asked, clearly annoyed which was annoying to Percy.

“We had to stop and smell the roses,” Percy said, shrugging his shoulders and stuffing his hands inside his pockets. 

Outside the arch was more hectic than a Black Friday Sale. Everyone was staring up at the arch. Firefighters who had finally arrived were pulling out hoses to extinguish the flames. 

But, in the midst of all the chaos, looking up at the arch in utter shock was Grover. 

 “What the hell, Grover?” he asked, in complete disbelief seeing his friend with a cone of strawberry ice cream in his hand.

  “What?” the satyr asked. “I was hungry.

Chapter Text

For a moment, Percy could only stare at Grover and his melting ice cream in shock. The satyr looked so ridiculous in the rubble of the arch, watching completely unaware of what happened. Then once the exhaustion had completely settled– Percy’s body finally coming down from the adrenaline rush, he burst out laughing. 

All of his friends looked at him like he had lost his mind completely, and maybe he had. Percy honestly thought he had lost it a long time ago. Passersbys stopped to look at him – in a sea of frantic people running, someone laughing stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Umm, Percy?” Grover asked, looking up at him with his large eyes. “You, okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” he said, laughing so hard, his stomach hurt. “I think I need a nap.”

“I hope that was good ice cream,” Luke said to Grover. Grover looked down at the cone with something close to guilt.  Percy fought the urge to steal it out of Grover’s hands and eat the whole thing in seconds. It wasn’t blue but at that moment, he would eat anything.

“I’m sorry,” Grover said. “What exactly happened while I was gone?”

“Echidna found us,” Luke said, crossing his arms. “I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”

“Echidna?” Percy asked, faking stupidity. “Was her Chimera with her? I thought in mythology she always had it with her. How did you survive?”

Annabeth shook her head. “Do you think we would be alive if she brought that thing?”

Honestly, no. But it begged the question. Where was the thing and why hadn’t it attacked them? How much had Percy inadvertently changed?

“How do you know so much about Mythology?” Luke asked. “I mean seriously. You just found out about your dad a week ago. You’re like a walking encyclopedia.”

“My mom taught me,” he said. “And I hyperfixated. Blame the ADHD.”

There was something not right. Call it a feeling, Spidey sense, or maybe even just plain old good judgment. He wasn’t sure what it was. But, he wasn't going to ignore it.

“There was no chimera?” Percy said. “Then what did the mother of monsters want from you?”

“The lightning bolt,” Annabeth said. “She was asking for it. But she didn’t start attacking until–”

“Let's get out of here,” Luke interrupted, looking somewhat nervous. “There are lots of mortals. Who knows who might recognize us here.”

“Until what, Annabeth?” he asked. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don’t actually know. She whispered something to Luke. I couldn’t hear what she said. And then I got whacked in the head by something. Must have been some debris from the arch. ” She pointed to the dried blood on her head. Luckily the wound didn’t look too deep.

Percy moved his eyes between Luke and Annabeth. Luke couldn’t have. Could he??

“Luke?”

Percy could see the boy swallow air, his Adam's apple moving up and down. His face had gone deathly pale, his eyes growing dark. 

But, Percy never heard the answer. 

“Hey kid,” someone yelled from behind them as they left the arch. 

Percy turned around slowly to see the security he had kicked earlier. His face was red and sweaty, and he looked two seconds away from snapping. His curly hair was sticking out in every direction and drenched in sweat. Oh shit.

“Percy?” Annabeth asked. ‘Why does that security guard look like he wants to kill you?”

“The real question is,” Luke quipped. “Who doesn’t want to kill Percy?”

What was it, Gang up on Percy day or something?

Percy looked at the man then back at his friends. Percy pointed to himself like a complete idiot. “Me? You want me?”

The man's hands clenched at his sides. “Are you an idiot? Yes, You.”

“Ummm, Percy?” Grover asked from beside him. “What should we do?”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Run, obviously.”

It was like a bomb exploded. Suddenly, the group of kids took off into the crowd, trying not to run into anyone. 

They dashed through the crowded streets, weaving expertly between pedestrians and sidewalk vendors. His weary legs continued pounding along. He ignored the pain flooding through his body and kept one foot in front of the other. 

He really hoped he could stop running. All he wanted to do was soak his legs in a bath and take a nap. Was that really too much to ask for? 

But, he kept moving. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Luke, Annabeth and Grover keeping up with him. None of them seemed to be dropping a single sweat, which honestly made him mad. 

“Stop fucking running,” he heard the cop yell. “Just stop.”

“No, thank you,” Percy yelled over his shoulder. He may be running for his life, but he could still be polite. 

Percy leapt over a small poodle that was dyed pink, and almost ran into a firefighter with an ax. He looked behind him to see the poor officer, running into a pole. 

Percy winced. That had to hurt. 

 Grover didn’t seem to be having much luck either. He had tried to hold on to his ice cream while he ran, but the scoops slowly disappeared into the wind. The poor goat tripped but popped right back up from the ground as if nothing had happened. 

Percy ducked into a small alleyway, Annabeth, Grover and Luke following quickly behind him. 

They were all breathing heavily, panting like dogs on a hot summer day. 

“I need to go to the gym,” Grover said. “That was terrible.”

“I think we lost him,” Percy said. He leaned his head against the brick, huffing and puffing, and let himself relax for a second. 

But just as the words came out of his mouth, the officer rounded the corner, trapping them in the alley way. 

“You just had to say something,” Luke groaned.

He saw Luke pull out Backbiter , the celestial bronze and steel glistening in the summer sun. The metal was like a flashlight in the dark of the alleyway.

“Luke no!” Percy said. He grabbed Luke by his upper arm, pulling him back towards the wall. “He’s mortal. He’s just doing his job.”

Luke’s eyes flashed with something he had never seen before. Something so unhinged and unrestrained Percy felt his blood turn to ice. Anger, malice, resentment…rage. 

“I’m not going to hurt him,” Luke said. But for some reason Percy didn’t believe him. 

“Then put the sword down, Luke,” he said. “Let me handle this.”

“What the hell is that?” The police officer said, looking at the sword. “What the hell is that?”

Percy couldn’t help but wonder what it was the officer actually saw. Maybe it was a letter opener, a gun, or maybe even a bazooka. 

“Walk away,” Luke said, his voice low. Percy snapped his head to him. Something about his voice…

“What is that?” the guard asked again. In a split second, the guard had unclipped his gun, pointing it between Luke’s eyes.

“Your end,” Luke said, and raised the sword. 

“Luke stop!” he shouted using the voice he’d only ever used with Kronos before.  

For one split second, Luke’s flashed with uncertainty in Percy and in himself.  But it didn't last long. That uncertainty disappeared just as quickly, and Luke set his eyes on the officer with wild abandon. He swung his sword…

But It never landed. 

Percy felt a rush of energy he hadn’t felt since he was in Tartarus. It was a feeling he’d never wanted to feel again - a complete rush of power and rage bursting through him without control. He had sworn to Annabeth never to do this again, but he didn't have a choice - it was the only way he knew how to stop Luke. He took all the anger burning through his veins and aimed all of it towards Luke. 

Luke tried to move his arm down on the man, but he didn’t move - couldn’t move, because Percy was in control. 

There was a familiar twist in his gut, and suddenly Luke wasn’t in charge of his body - Percy was. It was easy really. Afterall, humans were made of 90 percent water. If there was one thing Percy knew how to control – it was water. 

“I can’t move my body,” he heard Luke whisper. “I can’t–”

Percy could see the sweat pooling down Luke’s forehead as he tried to gain control of his body, but it was all for naught. 

“Luke, stop!” he heard a voice say. It was Annabeth. 

“Annabeth?” Luke asked, as if he was realizing for the first time what it was, he was doing. “I don’t–”

“Put the sword down, Luke,” Percy said. “Now.”

All at once, Percy let go of his control of Luke, and the boy's sword clattered to the ground. The sound rang, like church bell choirs, chiming through the alley way. 

“I–” Luke looked confused. Like he had just woken up from a terrible nightmare. 

There was an anger boiling inside of Percy, threatening to come out and destroy everything in his path. 

Percy turned to the guard, who stood there completely dumbfounded with his eyes wide, his gun still raised at them. 

“Run,” Percy said. “Run and don’t stop running. I don’t want to hurt you.” He looked at Luke who had turned as white as a ghost. “But I can’t say the same for others.”

Percy had expected the guard to run – had hoped he would run. But Luck was never on his side. He heard the sound before he felt the pain of the guard's bullet tearing through his flesh. The burning smell of powder wafted through the air. In the sudden silence following, he froze until finally remembering to breathe.

He stood there for a moment, not really knowing what else to do. His hand fell to his stomach, and when he looked at it, he was shocked to find his hand covered in a coating of crimson. 

Beneath him, the concrete ground felt soft, like he was stepping in sand on a beach. He could almost feel the sand between in his toes, soft and moist–

He heard someone screaming his name, and then his legs gave out from under him, and the ground no longer felt like sand, it very much felt like hard concrete. 

He heard the same voice screaming his name again. Warm hands pulled him into someone's arms, there was pressure on his stomach, as if someone was trying to force the blood back into his body by willpower alone. 

He looked up and saw blonde hair, streaked with white. Annabeth? His Annabeth? But how?

Just as quickly as he saw it, the streak of white disappeared and he saw the younger version of his friend, looking down at him with complete and utter fear in her eyes. 

Percy tried to move from the ground and stand, but the moment he did black flooded into his vision, and every ounce of energy he might have had left him completely. 

“Keep your eyes open,” she said. “Okay, Percy? You’re going to be alright. We can fix this.”

Annabeth dug through her bag, and pulled out a square of ambrosia, stuffing it in his mouth. All at once, Percy was overcome but the familiar taste of his mother's blue chocolate chip cookies. Gods, he missed his mother. 

There was a loud thump, and when Annabeth looked up to see what it was it was like the world ended. There was a pure look of horror on her face, unlike anything Percy had ever seen before. What had happened? If he could just move – if he could just see, then maybe he could help. 

He tried to get up – tried to help. But the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was Annabeth screaming. 

When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in the alleyway. He didn’t even think he was in St. Louis anymore. 

The air was strangely cold - a chill running through his spine like someone had just walked over his grave. He looked around, he was on a beach, a storm brewing in the distance. Lighting clashed through the sky, and waves battered the shoreline. 

It felt like some demented nightmare version of Montauk. He could still smell the same familiar scent of the ocean - salt and wildlife mixing together. But there was something different - the smell of rot lingering on the once fresh breeze. He was used to hearing children laughing, playing in the water and with their friends. Seagulls used to fly, squawking overhead. But there was nothing.

He looked down at his stomach. Surprised to see that the skin was smooth and there was no bullet wound in sight. He expected to see blood on his hands and shirt, falling to the sandy beach. Was he dead? Had he finally died? Where was Annabeth, Luke and Grover? He looked around his panic setting in. They were nowhere in sight. He really must have been dead, but this time there was no second chance - no chance to go back and fix everything.

He’d failed.

“Your friends are fine,” A voice said. “For now.”

Percy turned around to the sound of the voice and almost had a heart attack on the spot. 

Lounging on a beach chair, with sunglasses, and a beach read, sat a man in Bermuda shorts and a funky tropical button. At first, he thought it was his father-they looked similar enough. But then, he noticed the subtle differences - the eyes and beard.  His father always looked windswept -his appearance messy in a way that just looked right. This man was immaculately groomed - there wasn't a single hair out of place on his thick beard or head of hair. And while his father had eyes of the sea -stormy and unrestrained, this man's eyes were like liquid gold. He could see them swirling almost like the constant movement of sand and time. 

Time...Oh shit.

Kronos. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so afraid. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?" Percy said, looking at the very alive Kronos. 

The man smiled at him, showing razor sharp and pearly white teeth. “Perseus, did you miss me?”

“You should be in Tartarus,” he said. “Chopped up in tiny little bite-sized pieces.”

“Oh,” Kronos said. “I am, unfortunately.”

Was he in Tartarus? Was he dead and in Tartarus? It was a whole lot sunnier than he remembered.

“Then how?” Percy asked, looking around wildly at the storming beach around him. 

The man laughed and lounged back on his beach chair. “I think it's rather obvious. You’re sleeping. Not dead, unfortunately. Now that we are alone, we can have a little conversation, don’t you think? It’s a long time coming.”

Percy felt himself still – every hair on his body suddenly rising up to the sky. 

“About what? What could I possibly have to say to you?”

“Percy,” he said. “I think it's rather obvious, don't you think?”

“I don’t–” Percy honestly had no idea what was going on. Which honestly wasn't much of a surprise because he never knew what was going on. 

Like a metal cord had snapped, the titan suddenly grew angry. He sat up from the beach chair, his beach clothes suddenly melting into scaled armor that looked suspiciously like dragon scales. They glimmered and seemed the change color every time the titan moved. He wondered what poor creature had lots its life to make that armor. His kempt beard became longer, and even his eyes seemed to turn to a more intense gold color. 

“Stop pretending!” the titan yelled. “I know what you are. I can see it, monsters can smell it, and even your friends know something isn't right. They don't trust you."

Percy had never really seen before what Kronos looked like. He’d only ever seen him in his dreams or in Luke’s body. But there was something about seeing him in his true form that chilled him to the bone. 

“I never thought you were an idiot, Perseus,” he said, his voice low and gravely. “You are many things, but stupid is not one of them.”

Percy begged to differ. He was very stupid, but also really good at hiding it. 

The titan grabbed Percy's arms, and he saw red. The pain knocked on the door and walked right in, filling Percy's thoughts with nothing else but the feeling of fire spreading from the titan's touch. Surprisingly, it hurt more than being shot, or being run over by a car. Percy knew that personally. 

Percy bit his lip, holding in the scream that threatened to escape. He wouldn’t give the monster the satisfaction of knowing just how much it hurt.

“Scream, Perseus,” he said, the man's foul breath ghosting his skin. “Let me hear you scream.”

A scream tried to force itself out of his throat. He could feel it bubbling - trying to force its way up through his shredded vocal cords. But he wouldn’t let it escape – couldn’t let it escape. 

He may not have plunged the knife in that bastard's chest the last time, but this time he’d stab him himself. This time, he’d be the one to send the bastard back to Tartarus.

Percy tightened his jaw, steeling himself. He looked at the god in the eyes, noticing the flecks of gold like swirling sand in the irises. 

 “Fuck you,” he yelled, and spat in the god of time face. 

The titan smiled - actually smiled and wiped the spit from his face.  Percy almost threw up all over the titans' shoes.

“There you are,” he said. “This is going to be so much fun, isn’t it?”

Percy glared at him through the pain. “I hope you’re enjoying Tartarus,” he seethed through clenched teeth. “Where I send you, you’ll wish you had never left.”

The titan laughed. “If only you could see what I do, Perseus. You and I aren’t so different after all.”

Percy knew he was many things. He was a brother, a son, a demigod and a son of Poseidon, but what he wasn’t was anything like Kronos. 

Percy smiled at the monster through the unbearable pain. “You can tell me that all you want. You can try to whisper into my head at night and try to make me feel less than I am – try to make me think I need you. But I know who I am and no one, not my father, not my friends, not even you can change that. So, hit me with your best shot grandpa. Just try to fight me, you won't be disappointed.”

For one small second Percy saw a crack in Kronos’s perfectly crafted facade he had made for himself.

He felt Kronos squeezed on his arm even tighter, the pain growing with intensity as every moment passed. He imagined this is what it felt like to put your arm in a boiling vat of molten lava. 

“I’ll see you again,” the titans' voice whispered.

He looked at the Titan in the eyes, smiling at him through the excruciating pain. “I’m counting on it.”

Chapter Text

“I’m counting on it,” Percy said, and he meant it.

Most people in their right mind should have been terrified of a Titan threatening them, but Percy only felt angry. The pain had become unbearable, but his hatred for the titan was stronger - a raging inferno that threatened to engulf everything it touched. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Percy said. “I’m going to plunge my sword through your chest before the end. Remember that.”

The titan smiled at Percy. “Not before I kill you and everyone you love. It’s going to be so fun, Perseus Jackson.”

Percy snapped - the cord that kept him tethered to rationality splintering in seconds. He pried off the monsters had from his wrist, a new rush of pain flooded through his body, but he gritted his teeth and kept his eyes focused on his enemy.

He plunged his hands into his pocket, thankful he could feel the familiar grip of riptide in the cloth. Not wasting a moment, he uncapped the pen, the celestial bronze gleaming as he held tight against Kronos’s throat. 

The man smiled at him with blinding white teeth. “See,” the titan said. “We aren’t so different after all.”

For the first time, Percy was terrified that the monster was right. 

He took a moment to calm himself and focus on his breathing, 

In and out…

In and out…

In…

In…

“You know I’m right, Perseus Jackson, and before the end, your friends will see it too. They'll watch terrified as you tear down Olympus piece by piece.”

“Fuck. You,” he spat, his spit flying into the Titan of Times face. 

“You’ll see,” he said. “You will see.”

He woke up as if his"on" button had been pushed, as if new electricity was circulating in parts, it didn't before. He felt energized somehow – like he had just taken a bath in a giant tub of monster energy drink. His heart beat fast and there was a buzzing in his brain – something there –something he had to remember but couldn’t. 

Then it all hit him at one moment - the past and present hitting him faster than tiger woods hits a golf ball. The police officer, and the gun. He’d even broken his oath to Annabeth, and controlled Luke - not that it did him any good. 

The first thing Percy saw on the ground when he woke up was the decapitated head of the police officer - his face still frozen in horror. He’d scream if he hadn’t seen the decapitated head of medusa only a few days before. He’d scream if his voice wasn’t already raw–feeling like someone had taken sandpaper to his vocal cords then lit it on fire with gasoline. 

The next thing he noticed was the pain. He remembered the burning pain when the bullet pierced through his skin. While Percy felt extremely uncomfortable like there was something in his lungs drowning him, he no longer could feel the gaping hole in his body. 

“What the hell, Luke!” Annabeth yelled, shaking him from his thoughts. His eyes fluttered to Annabeth whose voice was raised screaming at Luke like he had never heard her before. “We aren’t monsters. We can’t just go around killing whoever we like!”

“I did what I had to do Annabeth. He shot Percy!” the boy yelled back so harshly; Annabeth recoiled away from him. She took several steps back until she hit the wall covered in splatters of blood.

“I can’t–,” she stuttered. “I can’t support this. This isn’t right.
“Annabeth–”

“Please, Luke,” she said. “You promised. You can’t–”

He looked around and found Grover, staring at the head with wide eyes. The poor goat looked like he was in shock- not fully processing what had just happened.

There was a difference between seeing monsters killed and mortals killed. At least when they killed monsters, Percy knew that he was protecting others by ending their lives. Percy had seen plenty of severed limbs in his life – plenty of blood. But it wasn’t the gore that made him so sick to his stomach – it was the wrath – the needlessness of it all. This didn’t need to have happened– it shouldn’t have happened. If he had just dodged that goddamn bullet…

Percy coughed - an uncontrollable fit, his chest heaving. Blood sputtered out of his mouth soaking the shirt he’d gotten at Aunty Em’s. Gods, it hurt. 

Annabeth’s head snapped to him, her body instantly relaxing at the sight of him. Immediately, she ran to his side, checking over the gunshot wound. Percy was never not amazed by the power of ambrosia and nectar. Already, he could see his skin knitting itself back together - the blood scabbing closing the wound. 

 “Oh, thank gods,” Annabeth said. “I thought…I thought you were dead. You were screaming and then you stopped, and I thought–”

“You okay, Percy?” Grover asked. “I’m so sorry I’m such a terrible protector. I should have helped you more.”

“I’m okay,” Percy said. “It takes a lot more than a bullet hole to kill me. It’s not your fault Grover. The poor man was just scared. He didn’t understand what he was seeing.”

“No you need anything?” Grover asked. “I’ve got plenty of tin cans.”

“Do you have any water?” Percy asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, and scurried over to his bag. He gave him a generic bottle of water (because demigods can’t afford Evion.) The cool water went down his throat but did little to heal the dry cords. His gulps were so large he almost sounded like a seal. When he finished, he crumpled the plastic, handing it over to Grover who took a nervous bite. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Luke interrupted. “You had us all worried.”

Percy looked at the head, then to Luke who was still cleaning the blood off of his sword with his own t-shirt.

“Luke?” Percy asked. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t do this.” Percy already knew the answer, but some part of him hoped - prayed, that Luke hadn’t actually done it. 

He always thought that Luke hadn’t always been a monster. Kronos had twisted his mind – whispering into his head and confirming his worst insecurities. But, maybe Percy was wrong, Maybe, the boy had always been evil.

“He shot you Percy,” Luke said nonchalantly like he was taking a walk in the park – like he hadn’t just murdered someone in cold blood. 

“That doesn’t mean you fucking behead him, Luke,” he said. “He was just scared. He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Don’t scold me for this, Percy,” he shot you. “He fucking shot you.” Luke’s eyes drifted down to Percy’s wrist and took a quick intake of breath. “Gods, Percy,” Luke said. “What happened to your wrist?”

For a moment he panicked. How was Kronos able to hurt his body from the inside of a dream? Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. If the titan killed him in his dreams, would he die in the real world too?

“I don’t know what happened,” Percy said, the lie burning on his tongue. “It must have happened when I was shot.”

“Those are burn marks,” Annabeth said, and gently took his wrist, looking it over.

“Must be from the concrete,” Percy said. “I hit the ground pretty hard.”

“Can you stand?” Annabeth asked.  “We're going to have to find a way to LA. We have to get a car somehow and I don’t think they let a twelve-year-old rent them.”

Oh right, he forgot he was supposed to act like a twelve-year-old. 

“Okay,” Percy said. “I can drive us whenever we find one.”

“You can drive?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Percy said.

“But, you're twelve,” Luke observed. “And from New York City. And you just got shot.”

“Really? I didn’t know.” Annabeth glared at him, and Percy felt a little bit guilty.

Percy shrugged his shoulders. “My mom taught me. She said it might be important for me to know one day. It looks like she was right.”

“Your mom taught you a lot of things.”

“Have you met Sally?” Grover interrupted and Percy was thankful for it.  “She’s kinda great. Really scary though. She took on that minotaur without a care in the world. It was badass.”

“You have a great mom,” Luke said, and Percy winced thinking of May Castellan making lunches for a son that would never come home. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

He was going to get his mom back even if it killed him. After that? Well, despite being from the future, Percy had no idea what the future might hold. 

“Can you walk?” Annabeth asked. 

Surprisingly, Percy could walk considering he'd just been shot. There was an energy pulsing through his veins, and he felt like he could have run a mile. 

“Yeah,” he said, hoisting himself off of the ground. He stumbled at first, not used to the weight on his legs. He was surprised when warm hands wrapped themselves around him.

“I got you,” a voice said. It was Luke.

Percy fought the urge to recoil in Luke's hands. The man had just killed someone, and Percy didn’t forget things easily. 

“Thanks,” he said. Percy wasn’t sure if he should feel honored that Luke was willing to kill for him, or terribly afraid.

They walked out of the alleyway, the sun burning his eyes. The sun felt too warm, and he wondered if Apollo was up on Olympus trying to make their day even worse.

The street was deserted. Most people were probably hiding in their houses after the explosion at the arch. Percy didn’t mind it - it meant it was easier for them to get around without being seen.

“So,” Grover said. “How exactly do we get a car?

Percy rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We hotwire one, of course.”

“Oh,” Grover said. “...And how exactly do you hotwire a car?”

“Did your mom teach you that too?” Luke asked. Luke was walking on this ice. Every single time he looked at him, Percy felt the urge to turn him into a guinea pig just for the fun of it 

“No,” he said, and took an involuntary step back from Luke. The boy frowned but didn't comment on it. “But remember, I grew up in Manhattan. Of course, I know how to hotwire a car.” What Percy wasn’t going to tell them was that he knew how to hotwire a car because he had to move shit ton of them during the battle of Manhattan. Thank the Hermes cabin for teaching him that little useful skill. 

“Right,” Luke said. “You grew up in Manhattan.”

“I know how to do it too,” Annabeth chimed in. “It’s not that hard.” Annabeth said, extremely seriously. She was refusing to look at Luke, or even really acknowledge him (Not that Percy blamed her.)

Percy pulled his bucket hat out of his bag and sunglasses, putting them on. The small trio froze for a second, all staring at him weirdly.

“What’s with the weird getup?” Annabeth asked. “You look like you popped out of a Disney channel original movie.”

Percy rolled his eyes at her, earning himself another glare. “I’m in disguise. You all should get good disguises too. You know, since we're stealing a car. 

“Oh,” Luke said. 

“How about this one?” Grover pointed to a clunky little PT cruiser parked off of the side of the road. “You think you can get this one started up?”

The poor car honestly looked terrible. The bumper was held in place with duct tape, the muffler looked rusted through and there were strange stickers covering the back of the car. 

“Is that thing going to get us to LA in one piece?” Annabeth asked, looking at the small but mighty car.

“Oh yeah,” Percy said, smiling widely at all of them. “We’ll be fine.”

Percy took the bucket hat off his head and put it around his fist. Without wasting any time, Percy punched in the driver's side of the car, glass flying everywhere. 

“Hurry,” he said. “Someone will have heard that.”

He unlocked the door, and quickly tore off the ignition cover with his hands, revealing thousands of multicolored wires. 

“Give me a few seconds,” Percy said. “I almost got it. Anyone have any scissors.”

“I have a knife,” Annabeth said.

“That will work.”

He took the blade from her gingerly. Hero's soul cursed blade shall reap. Would everything turn out the same way it had before? Was Luke always destined to die in every timeline?

He smiled when he found the ignition wire. Carefully, he stripped the wire of the plastic surrounding it, twisted the wire and connected it with another. 

Please work, he prayed to whatever god probably wasn’t listening. 

Like magic, the car sputtered to life. It made a weird groaning sound, that he hoped wasn’t coming from anything too important.

“Everyone get in,” Percy said, smiling down at his handiwork. 

“We’re going to die,” Grover bleated. “We are going to die.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he said and opened the door for his friends to pile in. Grover and Annabeth slid into the back, while Luke and himself claimed the front.  

The inside of the car looked just about the same as the outside. The leather seats were ripped, falling apart at the seams. There was a strange lingering scent of baby food and cigarettes. 

The trip wasn’t as terrible as Percy thought it was going to be. They’d taken several detours at rest stops to replenish their food. They feasted on vending machine chips and candies, the sugar no doubt starting to rot his teeth. 

It would take them 24 hours to LA from the arch. Thankfully, they would not be stopping in Las Vegas, so they wouldn’t waste time by staying at the Lotus Hotel and Casino. They were making good time, but Percy didn’t want to jinx it.

Percy watched the countryside go by- his mind a rollercoaster of emotions. Luke had taken over driving and surprisingly wasn’t terrible. In the back of the car he could hear Grover snoring in numerous different octaves. His hands held on tightly to a tin can like it was a teddy bear. 

He felt terrible - guilt overcoming him. In his attempt to stop Luke from killing the police officer, he had to break a promise. A promise he had sworn to Annabeth in hell. But, none of it ended up mattering anyways. The cop was dead, and Percy went back on his word for nothing.”

Oh gods, some part of him was happy he wasn’t with his Annabeth now. She would be so ashamed of what he had done. He couldn’t bear the disappointment - the look of sadness she would have if he ever told her that he had forsaken his oath to her. 

Percy could feel himself changing and he didn’t like it. There was a darkness in him steadily growing. Minute by minute he could feel a new part of himself chip away as he sacrificed his morals to help those he cared about. And the anger…Percy had never felt so angry before. 

And then there was Luke. Luke who he didn’t know how to control and who was clearly falling apart at the seams. He was able to imagine now how Luke must have been like as a general in charge of every monster from hell you can imagine. He must have been terrifying and completely ruthless.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at his soft features just how murderous he could be. He looked like a normal teenager besides the scar running down his face. 

 “They’re asleep,” Luke said, waking him from his daydreams. "You can yell at me now. I know you’ve been wanting to.”

“What makes you think I’m going to yell at you?” Percy said and continued to stare out the window. The sun was setting, and instead of focusing on Luke, he stared out at the cacophony of effervescent changing colors. 

Luke just raised an eyebrow at him. It would have been funny if the situation wasn’t so gods awful. 

“Please, Percy,” Luke said. His voice was so raw, so sincere, it forced Percy to look away from the window. 

"Why did you do it, Luke?” He whispered, careful not to wake the sleeping Annabeth and Grover who had passed out in the back of the car. “I just don’t understand.”

“I know,” he said, looking down at his hands. Percy hadn’t noticed it before but Luke’s hands were raw and bleeding, picked clean from what fingernails of his were left.

“What happened, Luke?” he asked. “How can I help you?”

Percy tried to speak as calmly as he could to Luke. He remembered that Lukes fatal flaw was wrath. Patience would always be the smartest way to really understand what it was he was thinking.

“I don’t think you can help me, Percy,” he said with so much resentment it chilled him to the bone. “No one can.”

“No one is beyond helping, Luke,” he said. “It’s not too late for you.” He meant it too. He didn’t think Luke was past the point of no return.

“I am,” Luke said. 

For a small moment, Percy thought Luke might break down and tell him everything of his treachery. It was all wishful thinking.

“Luke,” Percy said. “Tell me why you did it. I don’t think the kid that helped me settle into camp could be so heartless. You had to have a reason. Everyone has a reason for something.”

“I don’t know Percy,” Luke confessed. “It was like a wave of anger overcame me. I couldn’t stop it. I just saw you laying there. I got so angry, then the next thing I knew he was dead. I mean, I’m just angry all the time and I can’t control it. I don’t know what’s happening to me, Percy. I’m disgusted with myself for what I did. I know I did it, but I just don’t know why.”

“Do you remember killing him?” Percy asked, terrified of the answer. 

“No,” Luke said. “Gods, why don’t I remember any of it?”

“We’re going to figure this out, Luke,” he said. “Next time if you feel out of control, let us know, okay? We’re your friends – we can help, you know?”

“For a twelve year old you’re oddly insightful,”

“It’s one of my better qualities.”

“You have good qualities?” Luke asked, smirking at him. 

“You want some ding dongs?” Percy asked, gesturing to his bag “They’re super tasty. They might be a little squashed.”

“Thanks kid,” Luke said, and grabbed a squashed ding dong. “Really, though. Thank you. I know I haven’t shown it, but you’ve made me rethink a lot of things.”

“Good,” Percy said. “There's nothing wrong with rethinking things. It helps you not decapitate people.”

Percy tore open the plastic of the cake, and shoveled the whole thing in, letting the cake and cream melt into his mouth. Gods, he was so beyond hungry. 

“Not the tin cans,” he heard Grover mutter to himself in his sleep. “Anything but the tin cans.”

“Percy?” Luke said.

Percy swallowed his food quickly, looking at Luke whose eyes were focused intently on the road. 

“Yeah?”

Luke shook his head as if he thought better of it. “Never mind. You should get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

:”It’s always a long day,” he said. “Tomorrow won't be any different.”

Percy put his head against the fogged glass of the window, the night chill seeping into his bones, and let his eyes flutter closed. 

He prayed tomorrow would be better. In retrospect, Percy should have known not to pray to anyone. It never seemed to work out for him in the end.

Chapter Text

What's worse than a long car ride? A long car ride with four sleep deprived ADHD kids running on fumes. Percy would have preferred a walk in tartarus any day compared to the 24 hours of hell lock inside a metal PT cruiser death mobile. 

Percy was thankful he was able to sleep at least some of the way. But, at about 5 in the morning, Luke woke him up, looking in dire need of a nap, and so Percy took the wheel for the rest of the trip. 

It took them longer than expected to get to LA. The entire country was being devoured by storms courtesy of his father and uncle. Rain pelted down on the car, creating a symphony of non-relaxing sounds as he drove. To some, it might have been peaceful, but to Percy it felt like a death sentence. 

Everytime lightning flickered across the sky, and thunder rumbled in the distance, Percy’s heart stopped and he flinched. He wouldn’t put it past his uncle to strike the small car with a bout of electricity, killing them all. 

“Are we there yet?” Grover asked. Percy looked in the rearview mirror to see the satyr, stretching his hands up above his head, and trying to fix his messy hair. 

“Almost,” he said, keeping his eye on the road. “Just a few more hours and we’ll be there. We’ll have to stop at a hotel for the night. It's a good idea for us to get some sleep before we enter the underworld.”

“Do you need a rest?” Grover asked. “I could drive.”

Percy held in a laugh, thankful at least for the offer. “You can’t drive Grover.”

The boy yawned. “I could try. It's probably like riding a bike, right?”

“Not at all,” Percy said. “But thank you for the offer.”

It was hard to look at Grover sometimes. The satyr always used to be a constant presence in his mind - the empathy link between the two burning bright at all times. But the moment he had arrived at camp, he felt nothing. He couldn’t sense the boy or his emotions. There was an empty hole in his mind where Grover used to be, and he yearned to feel that connection again. 

“What time is it?” he heard Annabeth say, yawning loudly. She stretched her arms, bringing them across her chest and stretched her neck from side to side. 

“About 10am,” Percy said. “We drove through the night.”

“I want to go back to bed,” Grover mumbled. “It's too loud in this car. Why couldn’t we have found a nice quiet car that doesn’t sound like it had pneumonia?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“How's your wrist doing?” Annabeth asked . “And the gunshot? Is it healing alright?”

Percy nodded to her, and tried to hide the guilt he felt. Everytime he looked at her he was constantly reminded of the promise he had broken to his Annabeth. 

But the longer he was in the past the more obvious it was that these were not the people he had grown to love. She was not his Annabeth. Everyone he had known was dead.

The road curved, and they found themselves driving past a small lake nestled in the hills of California. The hills reminded Percy of New Rome, a peaceful safe haven he had been lucky enough to go to college. He couldn’t help but wonder what Jason and Reyna were up to at the moment.

 Annabeth gasped as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange. "Oh my god, look at that!" she exclaimed, leaning forward in her seat. The others followed her gaze and were equally awed by the breathtaking view.

The early morning fog shrouded the road - they were only two hours away from LA but somehow it felt as if they were in a completely different world. On one side of the road was the ocean, calling to percy with its looming waves, and on the other were treacherous mountains.
The car jolted forward, the headlights cutting through the thick fog that shrouded the road ahead, and for a brief moment, they caught a glimpse of a small town in the distance. It didn’t look like much, just a truck stop for people on their way to LA, but there was a hotel, and a restaurant. That’s all Percy really cared about. 

“What about this place?” Annabeth asked, quickly changing the subject. It was a dingy little best western that might have been nice 30 years ago.  “Doesn’t look too bad. I think we could all use a shower and comfy bed.”

Annabeth was right, Percy really needed a shower…or five. He was still covered in Thomas’s blood, and the security guards. He could feel dirt from the arc explosion in his hair, and it was starting to itch. 

“Why not?” Percy said. 

Percy gently shook Luke's shoulder, and the poor boy bolted away, his hand automatically flying to his sword at his waist. “It’s okay,” Percy said. “We're going to stop at a hotel to get some rest.”

Luke nodded, looking up at the hotel. “This place looked horrible.” Percy agreed.

The four of them exchanged nervous glances before unbuckling their seatbelts and silently sliding out of the car. The cold night air bit at their exposed skin, making them shiver. 

The front door creaked when they opened it, and they were automatically greeted with a strong stench of cigarette smoke. 

As they approached the front desk, they were greeted by a surly-looking man who reeked of cheap cigarettes and desperation. He eyed them warily, his expression unreadable.

"How many rooms do you need?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"Just one, for now," Luke replied, shooting a quick glance at his friends before returning his attention to the desk. "Do you have anything available?"

The man narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased by the question. "I suppose," he grunted. "But you'll have to take the room at the end of the hall. It's not exactly what you'd call prime real estate. Oh, and we only take cash.”

Percy nodded, pulling out a wad of cash from his pockets and dropping it on the counter. “This should be enough.”

The man looked down at the cash distastefully and for a moment Percy was afraid he wouldn’t take it.He pulled out a key from beneath the counter and handed it to Luke. "Room 12. Remember to lock your door at night."

Percy wasn’t sure if she should be thankful that the man didn’t question four kids staying into the hotel, or terrified.

Luke took the key wordlessly, his brow furrowed. The others exchanged glances, sensing the man's unease. As they turned to leave, Annabeth leaned in and whispered, "Thanks for the advice... about the door." The man gave them a curt nod in response, his gaze never leaving them.

The four friends made their way down the hall to Room 12. As they approached, they noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Percy pushed it open and they all filled inside. The room was a retro 90’s fever dream. The yellow wallpaper was peeling at the corners, revealing a faded floral pattern. The matching bedspread had seen better days, the once vibrant colors now muted with age. The rotary phone on the nightstand seemed almost comical in this modern world of smartphones. Percy had to remind himself that it was only 2007, and Iphones had only just been invented.

 The TV had only a few channels, but it didn't matter. Percy never had the attention span to watch television anyways. The pink flower patterned drapes looked like they jumped out of his dead grandmother's house. There was a bible in the drawer which disappointingly didn’t have any cash hidden between its pages. 

“Oh cool,” Grover said. “They have a jacuzzi.”

You couldn’t pay Percy all the money in the world to bathe in that Jacuzzi. He’d rather take a dip in the styx…again.

“You can pop in it after I take a shower,” Percy said. 

“Good idea,” Luke said, hitting the back of his back. “You reek, kid.”

“So do you,” Percy clapped back. 

“Make sure you lock the doors,” Percy said. “Put a chair under the handle. I don’t trust this place.”

Luke nodded at him, filling Percy with some small comfort.

Percy didn’t waste much time, and jumped into the bathroom. He had to peel off his clothes - they had caked to his body from all the blood and sweat. The moment they were off he put the water to the highest possible setting and let the water turn pink from the blood.

The steam rose like tendrils of fog, curling and twisting around the mirror as Percy Jackson stepped into the hotel room's scalding shower. His muscles, taut and aching from the night's events, relaxed a fraction under the pounding spray of hot water. Blood and dirt swirled and slid down the drain, a crimson and earthy stain against the white porcelain. He let out a shuddering breath, the steam filling his lungs as he leaned his head against the cool tiles of the shower stall.

For a moment, he allowed himself to remember the events of the day before - the burning arch,Thomas who had been killed because of them, the guard being beheaded by Backbiter. But now, as he stood beneath the shower, he felt the weight of the night's events pressing down on him. He closed his eyes, trying to banish the images from his mind, but they refused to leave.

Once the blood was cleaned from his body, and his skin was as red as a tomato, Percy let the scalding water fall on him. He closed his eyes, and tried to relax his muscles. But Percy felt wired- like he was being pulled from all side so tightly he was sure to snap at any moment.

He wiped the water away from his face,,pulled himself from the shower, and put on some clean clothes they had found in the trunk of the PT cruiser. They were 4 sizes too big for him but they would have to do. 

When he left the bathroom, Grover, Luke and Annabeth were already passed out on the beds. Grover was sprawled out on one bed with Luke, while Annabeth had the other. Not wanting to inconvenience anyone, he laid down on the couch and closed his eyes. 

Percy couldn’t sleep - not that it was really a surprise - he didn’t sleep much anymore. Usually the nightmares would force their way into his mind after a couple hours. Even worse, he didn’t want to talk to his dear old grandpa again. 

Percy, sensing movement across the room, turned his head to see Annabeth rise from her bed. Was she okay? Maybe she just needed to go to the restroom. But she just slipped out of the room, the door closing quietly behind her. He sighed again, tossing off his covers and climbing out of bed. Maybe he should go after her, try to talk to her, try to understand…

He quietly moved from the couch and followed Annabeth out the door to make sure she was okay. 

He was surprised when he opened the door to find the hallway deserted. It almost looked like something out of the shining, minus the creepy twins and blood tsunami. He was surprised they hadn’t been murdered in the hotel yet. 

Annabeth was nowhere in sight. 

He walked down the seemingly never ending hallways. “Hello?” he called, and his voice echoed down the halls.

“Can I help you?” A voice said, and Percy almost screamed like a little girl. 

The receptionist was standing behind him, a cigarette in his mouth, looking at Percy with a look he couldn’t describe, nor did he want to know what it was. 

“Oh,” Percy said, not creeped out in the slightest by the man. “I’m just looking for a friend.”

“Did you not lock your door?” the man asked, and Percy had to take a step back from him. 

“No I did,” Percy said. “They just went for a walk. Everything is fine. Everything is great…How are you?”

“You have a strange smell,” the man said, and Percy's eyebrow shot up. Did the man mean he had bad Body odor or that he smelled like not human? The world may never know.

“What do you mean I smell?”

The man didn’t say anything - just grunted and walked away like an NPC.

What the fuck was that?

As he rounded a corner, he almost collided with Annabeth, not expecting her to have stopped walking. 

"Oh, hey Percy," she mumbled, a blush rising to her cheeks. "I, uh, didn't see you there."

Percy smiled sympathetically. "I couldn't sleep either. Do you want some company?"

Annabeth hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I guess," she replied, forcing a small smile.

They wandered the halls in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Percy spoke up. "You want to talk about whatever is on your mind?”

Annabeth took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

Percy raised an eyebrow at her. “Really?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Not really.”

He smiled. “It's okay not to be okay, you know?”

“Why are you so nice to me?” she asked. “I mean, our parents hate each other. You should hate me. You're just so nice that it's hard to not like you.”

“Just because our parents hate each other doesn’t mean we should,”

“I guess,” she said.

“That’s not really what's on your mind, is it?” Percy said. Despite her not being the same Annabeth he knew, he was able to read her like a book. Something was off. It wasn't just the fact that she had disappeared from her bed in the middle of the night. 

“I know what Luke did was terrible, but I can promise you, he isn’t a terrible person. He was just–”

“It's okay Annabeth,” Percy said. “You don’t need to explain his actions to me. Only he can do that.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m making excuses for him, Percy,” she said. “What he did…I’m disgusted by it. But, Grover and Luke are really the only people who I count as family. I can’t lose them. Luke was just in shock after you were shot.” She didn’t sound too sure.

“I understand Annabeth,” he said. “Really. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for the people I care about.”

“You're a good guy, Percy,” she said. “Weird, but good. I'm sorry...”

“You don't have anything to apologize for and Thank you,” he said. “I guess.”

“I really don’t get you, you know,” she said. “If it wasn’t crazy I might think–”

“Think what?”

“It’s almost like–”

Percy felt himself panic. “Like what, Annabeth?”

“You act older than you are,” she said. “I’ve never met a twelve year old with your vocabulary. No camper I've ever met has known so much about mythology than you have. It’s almost as if you were trained before.”

Annabeth had no idea how close to the truth she was actually getting. He wanted nothing more than to spill everything to her at that moment. But, he couldn’t. How would she ever be able to handle the stark reality of his life without already living through it. 

“I know what you're thinking,” Percy said. “I’m not - I’m not the lightning thief.”

“Even if you were, Percy,” she said. “It wouldn’t be too late. We’re friends, right? I mean we could be anyways.”

“Annabeth-“

“You could still be my friend if you wanted. It’s not too late for you, kelphead.” Percy couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Annabeth to say that. After all, pride was her fatal flaw. "If you ever wanted to talk, about our parents and everything. I'll listen."

Kelphead? Percy internally groaned. 

“Do Grover and Luke think I’m the thief too?” he asked. “…I’m not by the way.”

“No,” Annabeth said. “They just think you're ridiculously smart for a kid. But, I’m not buying it. Mr. D could tell something was wrong too. It’s why he wanted to talk to you by himself. Chiron didn’t buy it either. It’s why he didn’t want you on this quest. He doesn’t trust you. 

“Do you trust me?” Percy smiled to himself. If anyone could figure out he was lying of course it would be Annabeth. 

Of course, Percy wasn’t being exactly subtle. He knew he was a terrible liar, and it was getting harder each day to pretend to be something he wasn’t. 

He was surprised he hadn’t been called out before now. But, time travel was just so unbelievable that no one could possibly guess the truth. 

“No, I don't trust you,” she said, surprisingly bluntly. “I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”

“You have strong arms,” he said. “I bet you could throw me pretty far.”

“Just,” Annabeth said. “You aren’t dangerous are you? You aren’t secretly planning to kill us all, right?”

“I am dangerous,” Percy said. “But not to my friends. We’re friends after all.”

“Percy–”

“Annabeth,” Percy said. “I swear on the River Styx that I am not here to harm you or anyone at camp half blood. The only person who should be afraid of me is whoever stole the lightning bolt."

Outside, Percy could hear thunder roar, and neon lights from lightning striking cascaded through the window. 

For some reason that only made Annabeth look more nervous. “Good,” Annabeth said, her eyes wide at the magnitude of what he had said. “I should go back to bed. You know you can always tell me the truth. I don’t know what you're mixed up in, but the truth always comes out Percy.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “Get a few more hours of sleep. We’ll have to head out to LA soon.”

“Thanks Percy, really,” she said, and started to walk back to their room.

Percy followed her back, and once he was sure she was safe in the room, he found himself wandering. 

“Aren’t you coming in?” Annabeth asked, looking at him strangely. “You should get some sleep too.”

“I think I’m going to take a walk,” Percy said. “Clear my head. I’ll be back in an hour.”He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, his mind already a mess. He had slept enough on the car ride there, and was rejuvenated from the shower he had taken.

“Percy, be careful,” Annabeth said, before closing the door soundly. 

He let his feet carry him - not paying attention to where he was going. Percy wasn’t sure what led him to the beach, or what called him. But while Luke, Annabeth and Grover were tucked away in their beds for the night, Percy escaped to the familiarity of the sea. 

In the twilight the beach was tinted sepia, the sand more orange, the water darker and even more dangerous. While others may have been afraid of the swirling depths that went deeper than anyone could fathom, Percy never could be.

Percy took off his worn converses, letting the sand squish between his toes as he walked the edge of the water. He took in the familiar briny air, and the languid sound of water crashing, and felt himself relax. 

The beach was deserted this time of night, and that was just the way Percy liked it. Some man walked by the water, but it was probably some drunkard who had partied too much the night before. 

In one hand, Percy held his converses and with his other he dipped his hand into the water, letting his fingers just barely skim the surface. 

Instantly, power surged through his limbs, and his aching muscles began to relax. 

“The sea recognizes its own.”

Percy froze, not having to look up to recognize the familiar voice. 

“Poeseidon,” he said, and tried not to let the anger slip into his voice. He was quite proud that he was getting much better at pretending to be a stupid idiot. 

He looked up to see his father standing there. He wore his familiar bermuda shorts and surfer button up. His eyes still looked as deep as the ocean (thankfully not gold). 

“Perseus,” his father said, gentle like calm seas.

“Hey dad,” he said. 

Percy was reminded of the first time he ever met his father in the throne room of Olympus all those years ago. He remembered thinking that being with his father was like looking at the ocean: some days, you could tell what mood it was in. Most days, though , it was unreadable, mysterious.It seemed some things never changed .

His father had called him a mistake then – a wrong doing. 

“You know?” Poseidon said, almost like he was walking to his funeral. 

Percy shrugged his shoulders. “Well yeah. I can control water, breathe underwater and talk to horses. I might as well have a blinking neon sign over my head that says. Son of Poseidon. ”

The man smirked at him. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you. It might get you in trouble some day.” The man didn’t seem angry thankfully, just amused. 

“I’ve heard I got it from my father,” Percy said. “Someone once said, the sea doesn’t like to be restrained. Neither do I.” 

“You get it from your mother too,” he said. 

“I’m going to get her back,” Percy said. “Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” his father said. “But, I thought you might need some help.” His father reached into his pockets and pulled out four gleaming pearls, holding them out to him. 

“You’ll need these wherever you're going.”

Percy gingerly took the pearls.They were cold in his hands, like his father had plucked them from the deepest trench in the ocean. “Thank You.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I am sorry you were born, child. I have brought you a hero's fate, and a hero's fate is never happy. It is never anything but tragic."

He smiled genuinely at the words. “I’m not sorry.”

His father gave him a weird look, so he continued. “If I wasn’t born I would never have eaten a blue chocolate chip cookie. I would have never met Annabeth or Grover. I wouldn’t have been my mother son.  I haven't been cursed– I’ve been blessed. Yeah, my life might be a little bit harder than your average person, but if it's the price I have to pay for knowing them, I’ll pay it gladly.”

“You might change your mind,” his father said. “You don’t really know just how terrible your life might become.”

“I have an idea,” Percy said. “And I won’t change my mind.”

“Your mother, she raised you well,” he said. 

“I was luckier than most in that regard.”

“Goodluck, my son,” he said. “You’ll need it.” That really didn’t make Percy feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. 

“Father?” he asked, before the man could disappear back into the surf.

“Yes,” he said. 

“Why haven’t you claimed me?”

“I wanted to protect you,” Poseidon said. “You are powerful - more powerful than I or anyone else could have ever imagined. That comes with consequences and a price..”

“What do you mean?”

“Zeus believes I secretly have been training you to bring down the gods,” he said. “He has seen your skills and it has terrified him. Never before has someone so young been able to achieve what you already have. I saw what you did with the police officer and with Echidna.”

Percy shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing. Little did his father know his new found skills were because he was actually a seventeen year old war veteran. 

“If I had claimed you, Zeus would have seen it as proof of my wrongdoings. He can’t punish me, but he is able to hurt you.”

It made sense, but that didn’t mean Percy liked it. Every inch of him was buzzing to run up to Olympus that very moment, and give Zeus the middle finger. 

“You should just claim me, You know?” he said, and his father raised an eyebrow at him. “Everyone already knows who I am - there is no use denying it. And besides, I can take care of myself. He can send Tarturus’s worst at me, I won’t be taken down easily.”

“You deserve some peace, Perseus,” his father said. “Let me give it to you for as long as I am able.”

“I'll never have peace,” he said. “I’ve made terms with that. I’ll probably die one day with a sword in my hand, I know that.”

“If I claim you your life will never be the same again,” his father said almost sadly. “You won’t have peace. You won't have rest. Your uncles can sense your powers, and they won’t stop trying to extinguish it.”

“I’m okay with that.”

The god sighed, but smiled gently at him. “Be careful. The underworld is a treacherous place. Be wary of the dead.”

“I’m more wary of the living,” Percy said. 

The god sighed and seemed to age almost a thousand years in front of him. “I don’t know what your mother did to have raised you so..”

“Weird?”

“Insightful,” the god said, smiling. “Now go, get some rest. You only have a few days until the solstice. You need to be prepared for whatever awaits you.”

Something told Percy nothing would ever be able to prepare him for what was going to happen. 

Chapter Text

If Percy ever went to therapy his therapist would probably need to go to therapy. He could imagine how that conversation would go. Oh yeah, the first time I met my dad he apologized for me being born. Did I mention he was a god, and my aunts and uncles (who are also gods) want to kill me. Also, I died and went back in time… 

Percy was amazed the government hadn’t tried to have him committed…yet.

His mind was still whirling from his conversation with his father when he got back to the hotel room. He’d stopped at a McDonald’s and with the little change he had, he’d bought himself a small coke to refill what little energy he had.
But, the moment he made it back to his room, the cup dropped from his hands splattering all over the carpet.

The door to the hotel room was wide open.

His body reacted instantly, running into the room only to find it very empty - his friends nowhere in sight. 

Something was wrong. 

He checked in the closet, the bathroom and even under the bed. All of their things were right where they had them - Grovers clothes were strewn across the floor in a pile, and Annabeth's hat sat nicely on the bed. It wasn’t like them to just leave without warning, or at least without a note.

He stormed out of the room, racing through the halls like they were on fire, searching for any sign of them. There was a panic building inside of him, taking away any rational thought. Gods, he shouldn’t have left them alone. He had known there was something wrong with the hotel manager. He should have trusted his gut. 

Percy wasn’t sure what he would do if he had traveled back in time and gotten his friends killed because he left them alone for a few hours. 

He rounded the corner, and almost ran straight into a poor woman walking her cat on a leash (Percy wasn’t about to comment on it.) 

The roots of her bottle blonde hair reached her ears, and her lululemon tank looked about two sizes too small for her. All she was missing was a starbucks cup and some drunk elephant glow drops and she was a tik tok star in the making. 

“What the hell?” She exclaimed. “Watch where you're going kid.”

“Excuse me. I’m so sorry,” he said, stopping a guest. “Have you seen a group of teenagers walking around here? Around my age?”

“No,” she said. “They are probably with your parents, where you should be.”

“My parents are dead,” he lied on the spot. “We got separated from our caravan…our circus caravan…yeah.” Gods, he was such a bad liar. How his friends hadn't realized he wasn't telling them everything, he didn’t know.

The woman simply scoffed at him. “They shouldn’t let children in a place like this – it ruins the vibe.”

“And where exactly should kids stay on vacation?”

“I don’t know - great wolf lodge? Kalahari?”

“That’s–”

“Listen kid, leave me alone. Good luck finding your friends.” She rolled her eyes, before leaving with her orange tabby, leaving Percy in a greater state of panic than he had been before. Well, she was helpful. Percy would love to know her skin care routine though. 

He raced down the stairs to the front lobby. Maybe the receptionist wasn’t evil and had seen what happened to them. He heard chatter coming from a side room, which must have been a diner. Maybe one of the guests had seen what had happened. 

The moment he entered the room, he froze.

“What the hell is going on?”

All three of his friends looked up at him. They were sitting at a table, eating breakfast like nothing was wrong. Annabeth was sipping on a glass of orange juice. Luke had a plate piled high with bacon, eggs, and potatoes. Meanwhile, Percy was trying to calm down. 

“Oh,” Grover said, looking up at him. “You want some food? Joe made breakfast?”

“Joe?” Was that the receptionist's name? For such a creepy dude, it was surprising he had made them a free continental breakfast (Not that Percy was complaining.)

“You want bacon?” a voice said. Percy turned to the sound of the voice and saw red. Even while wearing an apron that read K iss the Chef and a terrible disguise of nerdy glasses held together with white tape, he’d recognize that face anywhere.

“Ares,” Percy said. 

You had to be fucking kidding.

All of his friends' eyes went wide the moment they realized who had just been serving them breakfast like a housewife, various different degrees of shock  and confusion crossing their faces. 

“Hey Kid,” the god said, taking a bite of some bacon. “Nice to meet you. I’m surprised you saw through my disguise. I thought it was rather convincing.” The man tightened the apron around his waist like it was the greatest thing he had ever owned. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Percy had really been hoping that they wouldn’t have to run into the god of war. He didn’t want to fight the guy again, or spend his day being attacked by mechanical spiders either. 

“Ummm Percy,” Grover said. “You shouldn’t–”

“Percy–” Luke warned, but Percy ignored them all.

The biker raised his hand. 

"S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. As long as you remember who's the boss. “How did you know it was me?

Percy rolled his eyes, "You're Clarisse's dad," he said. "You look just like her.”

Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear."

"She was asking for it."

"Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for-I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you." 

“Thank you,” Percy said. “But really we are fine.”

“Really?” the god asked. 

“Percy, don’t—“ Luke said.

Ares put a hand up silencing the boy. “No, let him speak. I want to hear what this punk has to say.”

“First of all, your disguise wasn’t at all convincing,” Percy said. “Second of all, thank you for the breakfast, but we are fine.”

“Oh,” The god said, putting his hands up in the air in mock surrender. “You're fine, are you? And just how are you planning to get to the underworld? Better yet, how are you planning to get out? No one besides orpheus has done it successfully. Admit it, kid, you need me.”

It was taking all of Percy’s self control not to uncap riptide, and skewer the god.

Percy was trying to hide his anger – the god just always seemed to get on his nerves. Even when he had no memories, he still remembered that he hated the guy's guts. He was ready to throw hands just by looking at him. 

However, there was one small problem. Are’s had the bolt, and Percy needed it which meant he would have to play nice, as much as it killed him to do it. He guessed he would have to wait to turn him into a kabob.

“How exactly are you going to help us?”

“Well I have breakfast for starters,” the god said, motioning to a plate of bacon again. 

“What do you want in return? I’m not sure we can afford your price.”

“You're smart,” Ares said. “Never trust a god whose giving you something. Real smart.” Out of the corner of his eye, Ares winked at Luke who quickly looked away.

Gods it was hard to look at either of them knowing they were working together to start world war 3. 

Percy had an idea. He never liked to play all of his cards, but he couldn’t help but wonder what the god and Luke would do, knowing Percy didn’t need them. How much pressure could those two withstand before they inevitably turned on one another?

“Thank you for whatever you are offering,” Percy said. “But I have a way out of the underworld, and a way in.”

Lukes head snapped to him in surprise, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Oh?” Ares asked. “Pray do tell.” Percy smiled, looking at the uncertainty crossing the gods face.

“Was visited by dear old dad, today,” Percy said. 

“You're unclaimed,” the god said, annoyance starting to creep into his voice. “You don’t know who your father is.”

“I’m gonna pretend that it's not completely obvious who my father is,” Percy said. “I’m not stupid, and I don't think you are either. 

“So what did dear old dad tell you,” Ares asked. 

“Gave me a present,” Percy said. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the four perfectly shining pearls that he knew would get him out of the underworld. 

“Those are pretty,” Ares said, his face blank of all emotion. “But you still don’t have a way in.”

“Oh please,” Percy said. “The entrance is in DOA records and I have plenty of Drachmas to bribe Charon”

“You have everything all planned out, don’t you?” Ares said. “You must think you are so smart. Are you sure you aren’t a child of athena.”

Percy hoped not, that would make things REALLY awkward. 

Percy shrugged his shoulders. “I’m a genius, actually.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrow as if to disagree. “You're a kelphead, actually.”

“Really Annabeth?” he asked. “I thought we were friends?”

“Friends call out friends on their bullshit.”

Percy wasn’t going to comment on that.

“Fine,” Ares said. He snapped his fingers and the food all of his friends were eating disappeared from their plates in a flash of light. “But, don’t come praying to me when everything goes to hell.”

“It won’t,” Percy said. He hoped. 

“You have some nerve, Kid,” he said. “You do know who you are talking to?”

“I talk this way with everyone,” he said. “What makes you so special?”

“Oh my god, Percy,” Annabeth said. “What the hell?”

“I should turn you into a dolphin, send you swimming to dear old dad.”

“I thought you didn’t know who my dad is.”

“PERCY!” Someone shouted, and he had a feeling it was all three of his friends yelling in unison.

“Why don’t you go start a war or something,” Percy said. “It's what you want, isn't it? A war between the gods?”

The moment the words slipped out of his mouth it was like all the oxygen had been pulled from the room. The fire in Ares's eyes seemed to glow brighter, the flames growing so hot, Percy could feel it from several feet away. 

“You have no idea what you're talking about, kid,” the god said, any hint of amusement now gone. “It sounds strangely like you're making an accusation.”

“Just a hypothesis,” Percy said. “Besides, you couldn’t steal the lightning bolt. Gods can't steal from other gods. But demigods can.”

“What are you talking about Percy?” Luke asked, his voice suddenly very shrill. He could see Luke clench his hands together so tightly they were turning white. 

“Think about it,” Percy said. “A demigod let the hellhounds in at camp. Gods can’t steal from each other. There's a traitor at camp.They are a pawn being pulled across a board by someone.”

“You think I’m this someone, don’t you?” Ares said. 

“No,” Percy said. “I know who is behind it all. They aren’t exactly being subtle. I'm surprised that all of Olympus doesn’t know by now.”

“Percy–” Luke said. Percy could hear the fear in his voice. The boy was terrified. If Percy knew this, what else might he know?

“Who do you think it is?” Ares asked, and Percy could see the wheels turning in his head. 

The gods eyes grew wide, the flames turning a dark color – closer to purple. 

“No,” he said. 

“Yes,” Percy said. “He really likes to annoy me in my dreams.”

One moment the god was standing there, and in the next he wasn’t. He disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the group very much confused. All that was left of the god was an apron, and a small duffle bag that Percy was pretty sure, probably held the lightning bolt. At least he could check one thing off his to do list. At least 90 to go. 

“What the hell, Percy,” Luke exploded. “Why did you do that? You can’t just talk to a god like that?”

“Why not?”

“Percy!” Luke groaned. “You can’t–”

“We don’t need his help, Luke,” he said. “And I don’t trust him.”

“Why don’t you trust him,” Annabeth asked. “He was only offering to help.”

“And he made us breakfast,” Grover chimed in.

“Think about it,” Percy said, pulling explanations out of his ass. “What god benefits the most from an all out war?”

“Ummm,” Grover said. “No idea.”

“Ares,” Percy said. “The god of war. I bet he has the lightning bolt with him, right now. He is probably planning to sneak it into a bag that he would give us as “help”, and then have us deliver it to hades. Only Hades is going to think we stole it.”

“That’s oddly insightful,” Luke said, his face as white as a ghost. “I didn’t realize you were so smart. And who were you talking about? The person pulling all the strings?”

“Oh,” Percy said. “I was bluffing. Absolutely no idea. But, it's safe to say someone is behind it and using a demigod to do their dirty work. I might not be right. But, I don’t want to risk it.” 

Luke looked at him with an eyebrow raised, and Percy could tell the boy didn’t believe him fully. It was only a matter of time before the boy started to realize that there wasn’t something quite right about him.

Percy ignored their stares, knowing full well that they didn’t trust him. Not that Percy blamed them. He’d honestly given up trying to hide who he really was. If their mistrust meant he could save the camp, then he would have to deal with it.

“So you had a talk with your dad,” Luke said. “What was that like?”

“Kind of anticlimactic,” Percy said. “He apologized for me even being born. Filled me with lots of warm and fuzzy feelings.”

“And you’ve been having dreams?” Annabeth asked. “Of some mysterious entity.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “I thought they were just nightmares, but…” Percy looked down at his wrist where Kronos had held him. For a moment, he could feel the red hot, stabbing sensation of the titans.

“But what, Percy?” Luke asked, and he suddenly felt like he was being interrogated.

Percy held out his wrist for them to see. “But then, the person, monster- whatever it was grabbed me in the dream. The pain, it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. When I woke up, my wrist was blistering where he touched me.”

“That's not good,” Grover bleated. “That's not good at all.”

“So,” Annabeth said. “What happens if he kills you in your dreams?”

“You know I don’t really want to think about that,” Percy said. “I like being alive.”

Annabeth sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why didn’t you tell us any of this Percy? We’re friends - friends tell eachother the hard stuff.”

“I know,” he said, guilt flooding through him. He wanted so badly to tell them what had happened to him. He wanted to open the can of worms and tell them everything. He wanted to get everything off his chest so his friends could finally trust him.

But, he knew without a doubt, it would make everything worse. Luke would probably go to Kronos and the god would probably change all of his plans so Percy wouldn’t know what was coming. Annabeth would probably feel beyond awkward knowing Percy had dated a future version of herself. Percy in turn would feel awkward because she was a literal child, and as in love as he had been with her older self - he was in no way attracted to the baby she was now.

Everything would change and Percy would probably just make everything so much worse. So, no. He was not going to tell them. At least not until Luke inevitably betrayed them and Percy wouldn’t have to worry about the teenager finding out the truth.

His head hurt.

Did Olympus have magical therapists for Demi-Gods, because they definitely needed one. Maybe then their children wouldn’t hate them and want to start wars.

Chapter Text

Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING. Percy couldn’t help but wonder if he counted, considering he had died and all that. Technicalities.

The summer sun beat down on the group, drenching Percy in sweat. Several people on the sidewalk gave them weird looks, gasping at the sight of them. He was sure they looked terrible. Although they had gotten some sleep before, the group was running on a shared package of Yogos, 5 hours of sleep and a dream. 

“Here it is,” Percy said. “D.O.A records.”

Luke stared up at the sign, scrunching his eyes together. “Of course the entrance to the underworld is at a record company. Makes sense if you think about it.”

“Free brittney and Taylor,” Percy murmured. Unironically, Piper had forced him to listen to all of Taylor’s music on the Argo II. She gave him the background of each song and all their histories. Now, Percy knew WAYYY too much about the next great American dynasty.

“What?” Luke asked. “Whose that?”

“Oh nevermind,” Percy said. He’d figure it out one day. He wondered if Luke was a swifty? He couldn’t imagine the kid dressing up ang going to the eras tour. But maybe he would if it meant he could manipulate young people into betraying all their family values.

Percy didn’t want to go to the underworld. He didn’t have many good memories of the place. It reminded him too much of Tarturus. 

It reminded him of the oath he had broken…

When he closed his eyes he could still see the goddess of misery quaking in fear of him. That rush of power that flooded his senses and filled him with the overwhelming feeling of control still tingled in his veins. If it wasn’t for Annabeth he would have given into that feeling so easily. Now that she wasn’t there…Percy was terrified.

He turned to his friends. "Okay. You remember the plan."

 "The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan." 

Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

 "Don't think negatively."

“It’s a stupid plan,” Luke said. 

“It's not a stupid plan,” Percy said. “You're stupid.”

Luke laughed. “We are going to die.” 

“Yee of little faith,” Percy said. “Trust me, this is going to work. I’ve come up with weirder plans before.” The vague memory of throwing freeze dried food at a monster came into his mind. Honestly, it was surprising Percy hadn’t died a long time ago. 

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence, Percy,” Grover said. 

“We aren’t going to die,” he practically exploded. “Honestly, you are all so dramatic!”

  "I'm sorry, Percy,” Annabeth said. “You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine." She gave Grover a nudge. 

"Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem. No death…none at all.”

“We are going to be, completely fine,” Annabeth parroted, sounding like the worst actor ever.. “It’s going to be amazing how completely fine we are.” 

Percy looked at them and felt really grateful. Luke was oddly silent, staring down at his feet, guilt most likely running through his body. At least he hoped the boy felt guilty.Percy had no idea what was running through his mind. 

Percy only had one more chance to get through to the boy. He could already see the doubt creeping into Luke's mind but he needed to plant the roots. He needed Luke to see what exactly a life without the gods would be like.

“Hey Luke,” he said, and the boy's eyes popped up. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Luke looked at him confused, but nodded. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Perce,” he said. “What is it?”

“In private?”

Both Annabeth and Grover looked offended.

“I’m hurt, Percy,” Grover said. “Knife to the heart.”

Percy nodded towards a small alcove away from the group, and pulled Luke along. He led them behind a decaying fake plant covered in dust and dead bugs. His nose itched from the dust, but he held in the sneeze.

“You okay, Perc?” Luke asked. 

He whispered, his voice barely audible above the sound of LA drivers honking their horns. Next to them some influencer was practicing a monologue to a wall. LA… he would never understand it.  “Whatever happens down there, I need you to promise me something.”

Luke raised an eyebrow at him, his eyes darkening. “You're scaring me a bit, Percy. What is it?”

“If for some reason I don’t make out,” he said, knowing full well Lukes plan was for him not to get out alive. Percy couldn’t be positive he was going to live anyways, there were too many things that could go wrong.

“You're going to make it out,” Luke said, suddenly extremely serious. It amazed Percy how good of a liar he was.

“If for some reason I don’t get out,” Percy said. “Get my mom out. Please.”

“Percy,” he said. “You're going to be fine.”

“I’m not stupid, Luke,” he said. “The odds are stacked against me. If Hades doesn’t smite me for just existing, the dear old grandpa probably will. I need to make sure she’s okay. She’s family, and she means more to be than my dad ever will.”

“Grandpa?”

Percy smiled to himself, it was time to play all the cards he had left. It was time to roll the dice, and pray the gods stacked the odds in his favor.

“I’ve been having dreams - nightmares,” he confessed. “Ares isn’t the mastermind of all of this - quite frankly I don’t think he’s smart enough.”

“You mentioned that,” Luke said. “But you said you were bluffing. You said you didn’t know who it was.”

“I wasn’t bluffing. It's Kronos.”

Luke grew as still as a board, all the color draining from his face, but Percy continued. “I know what his plan is. He’s been whispering in my head, trying to get me to hate the gods and betray them. He’s convincing. If he wasn’t planning to destroy the world, I might have listened.”

“Percy–”

“I wanted to listen, Luke.” Something dawned on Luke's face. Understanding? Pity? Something oddly close to hope.  Percy couldn’t tell. But, just as quickly he hid it behind the facade he had created for himself. 

“It won’t ever happen,” Percy said. “I hate the gods. I hate what they’ve done to their children. I hate that they think of us as an afterthought. We're kids. We shouldn’t be soldiers. We shouldn’t have to fight their battles. I should be going to school and worrying about school dances and grades, not this.”

The hope went away - Luke's face suddenly growing dark.
“Percy,” Luke said. “You're not an afterthought. Trust me.”

“But,” he said. “Do you know what scares me more than the gods? The titans. Because, if the gods who can’t give their children the time of day rebelled against their own parents. Just how terrible are they?”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said. “I didn’t mean to rant to you, Luke. I’m scared. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want my mom to die either.”

“Look at me, Percy,” Luke said. “You aren’t going to die. Not if I can help it. Okay? You’ll see your mom again.”

His words hang in the air almost like a curse. It’s a promise Percy knows he won't keep.“Thank you, Luke. But promise, you’ll make sure she’s okay if anything happens?”

Luke smiled at him, and put a hand on his shoulder. It felt anything but comforting. “I promise Percy. I promise you’ll be okay, and I promise to take care of your mom.”

They were silent for a moment - the only thing he could hear was the honking of horns. Eventually, Percy smiled at Luke awkwardly and walked them back to his friends that were waiting for them. 

Both were looking at their shoes awkwardly and thankfully didn’t pry for more information.

They walked inside the DOA lobby. It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

Josh Groban music played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or wait-ing for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them all just fine, but if I focused on any one of them in partic-ular, they started looking ... transparent. I could see right through their bodies. The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him.

He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag. Percy wasn’t exactly happy to see Charon again. 

. "Your name is Chiron?" He asked, just to make the man mad. Percy couldn't see anything in his glasses except his own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a python, right before it eats you. 

"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent-British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?

“Would you be mad if I said you did?” Percy asked, just for the fun of it. It was honestly bringing him too much joy. 

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-RO-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

 "Charon,” Annabeth, Grover and Luke said like they were under some type of magic spell.

 "Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

 "Mr. Charon," he said. 

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little ones.”

 "We want to go to the Underworld," Annabeth said. 

Charon's mouth twitched. "Why?

“Why?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Honestly,” Luke retorted. “That is the best question I’ve ever heard. Why do we want to go to the Underworld?”

“Yes, why?” Charon said. “Only one of you is dead. Why do you want to go with him?”

“What do you mean one of us is dead?” Grover asked, his voice squeaking. “I mean…We’re all dead. What are you talking about?”

It wasn’t possible. Could the man really tell that he had died? Did that mean some part of him was still dead? Was that why he felt so…Is that why he felt like he was losing some part of himself?

“That one,” he said, and pointed to Percy. “He has the aura of death following him. You’ve died at some point. Some part of you is still dead.”

“You know,” Percy said the lies burning on his tongue. “I’ve almost died several times? Death seems to follow me everywhere, and you know, Hades is my uncle. Might have something to do with that.”

“It’s not that,” Charon said, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve been touched by the fates, they cut your cord, but somehow you're still here. Only the fates themselves can undo what’s been done.”

“Percy—“ Luke said

“Only the fates?” Percy said. “And why would they do something like that?”

Charon shrugged his shoulders. “Balance.”

“Balance? Like the force?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “The what?”

“Seriously dude,” Percy said. “Star Wars?”

“Percy,” Annabeth said. “Now is not the time.”

“You were dead, but now you're not,” Charon said. “Explain. Why would the fates–”

“I mean, everyones a little dead inside.”

“That’s not–”

“Can you take us to the underworld or not?”

"I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children ... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

 "Oh, but we have coins." He set three golden drachmas on the counter. He had ransacked them from Medusa’s lair. He was beyond lucky he remembered considering they hadn’t gone to crusty’s this time around. 

 "Well, now ..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in ..." 

His fingers hovered greedily over the coins. We were so close. Then Charon looked at me. That cold stare behind his glasses seemed to bore a hole through my chest.

 "Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?" 

"No," I said. "I'm dead. You said so yourself." 

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You have traces of death, boy. You were once dead, and now you're not. Someone brought you back whether you wanted to or not.  You must be a godling.”

He ignored his friend’s stares. He had no idea how he was supposed to explain this to them. 

"We have to get to the Underworld," Percy insisted.

 Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat. Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

 "Leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you." 

“Nope,” Percy said, and snatched the coins back. 

 Charon growled again-a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

 "It's a shame, too," Percy sighed. "We had more to offer."

 "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh ... just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

 "A lot," he said. "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work." 

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me cross for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?." 

"You deserve better," Percy agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay.Good health insurance with dental."

 With each word, he stacked another gold coin on the counter. Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better.

 "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little." Percy stacked another few coins.

 "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

 He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off." He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."

Before leaving he turned back to Percy. “Be careful, boy. The dead can’t leave the underworld.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Percy said, swallowing air. “I’ll keep it in mind.” He ignored the curious glances of Annabeth and Luke and followed the man. 

He escorted them into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby.

 "Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend.

 "What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

 "Nothing," Charon said.

 "For how long?"

 "Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

 "Oh," she said. "That's ... fair." 

“No it's not,” he thought. At that moment he could almost feel the car running into him - all of his bones crushing from the impact, his teeth shattering, and his heart stopping.

It wasn’t fair. After everything he had done, if anyone deserved peace it was him. Even in death he couldn’t rest.

“You know,” Charon said, strange elevator music playing in the background, that sounded oddly like that one singer from Les Miserables.  “The ferryman thing is just my day job. What I really love is music.”

“Oh?’ Percy asked, because that was an entirely normal thing for someone to just randomly mention.

“Yeah,” Charon said. “You wanna hear my mixtape?”

The man practically forced a CD in his hand with D.O.A written in mismatched stickers. “It means dead on arrival.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you know, because you're dead.”

“That’s really funny,” Luke said, completely dead-panned.

Percy shoved the CD in his pocket. Who knew, it might actually end up being pretty catchy. 

“Thanks,” Percy said. “I’ll make sure to listen to it.”

Percy blinked hard and when he opened his eyes, Charon's

creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe .His tortoiseshell glasses were gone . Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets—like Ares's eyes. Oddly enough, he found Charon’s eyes more calming than the god of wars.

Gods, why did all roads always take him back to the underworld?

The floor kept swaying. Percy knew in seconds the elevator was about to turn into the ferry across the underworld, but his friends didn’t know that. 

Grover turned green the moment he saw they were no longer on a boat and grabbed onto Luke for support. Grover said, " I think I'm getting seasick."

Poor guy. It was a good thing he hadn’t flown to Greece on the Argo. 

Charon was poling them across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things—plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diploma’s with gilt edges. There was even a mcdonalds bag that made his heart hurt just by thinking of young Nico Di Angelo.

Something felt wrong - so off that his skin was buzzing and his head pounded like there was a steel drum band taking up residence in his head.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as he could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones—the howl of a large animal. He hoped it was Mrs. O’Leary.

Already, he could hear the shrill and otherworldly screams of the dead calling him - lulling him to follow them to his grave. The scent of smoke and death filled his nose, taking away any other thought. He hadn’t remembered feeling this way the first time he’d been there. 

They were singing? Almost like a dream, a soft melody rang trickling into Percy’s ears. It was a piano - a soft sound of someone dead tickling ivories that no longer existed. Even the dead liked to play music.

“Do you hear that?” Percy asked. “Music. Someone’s playing the piano. It’s-“

Luke looked at him strangely. “There’s no music Percy.”

What? But of course there was. It was so loud, how could any of them miss it?

A light hum emerged from his lips - notes of some dead composer he never knew escaping. 

He wanted to dance - waltz to the enticing mule of string instruments accompanied by the piano. He felt a hand on his upper arms, pulling him back towards them.

Percy hadn’t noticed he had been walking straight towards the edge of the barge.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked, looking at him with nothing but concern.

Percy shook his head, as if he could shake away the headache. What the hell was that? “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The voices were still there - still singing their siren songs. But Percy ignored them. It made him feel like his head was stuffed with sand - his ears filled with water. 

“Are you sure?” Annabeth asked. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Percy laughed, gritting his teeth to ignore the voices. . “We're in the underworld. It would be weird if I didn’t see a ghost.”

Charon looked at him strangely, almost knowingly and it sent a chill through his spine. What did the man know that Percy didn't? Was he going to die down here for good this time?

“You heard the voices, didn’t you?” Charon said, turning his blood to ice. “The dead call to their own.”

“I–”

“This is where I leave you,” he said. “Don’t forget to tell Hades of my pay raise, and listen to the demo.”

“I’ll make sure he knows, Mr. Charon,” he said.

The bottom of the boat slid into the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand . An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than he was, shuffling silently along in his gray robe .

“Percy?”

Quickly, Percy dug into his pockets and pulled out the pearls, the pieces cold against his skin like the ocean.
“Take your pearls,” Percy said, handing them each a smooth pearl that glistened in the ethereal underworld light. “If we get separated, smash it. It will take you back to the surface, okay?”

Annabeth nodded to him slowly, nothing but concern etched on her face. 

“What did he mean you were dead, Percy?” Luke asked. 

“I have no idea,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. “He probably just smells Medusa’s monster's guts on me or something.

“Wait,” Annabeth said. “That was you?

“Surprise?”

Luke sighed like he wasn’t getting paid enough for the job he was doing. Honestly, why weren’t demigods paid for all the things they did for the gods. Offensive. 

“It Probably has to do with your death resounding in legends and all that,” Grover said. 

Probably.

“I don't want to talk about me potentially dying, okay?”

His friends nodded at him, holding the pearls like they were precious cargo. Percy didn’t want to imagine what would happen if any of them lost theirs. He couldn’t lose any of them – even Luke. 

Percy looked all around them, the stakes finally resting on his shoulders like he was holding up the sky again. He looked at the dark, rocky earth, the glow of embers in the sky so similar to Tarturus. How could he survive this?

“So…” Luke said. “How exactly do we get to Hades?”

“Oh,” Percy said. “Should be easy. Just a brisk walk through the EZ Death line, guarded by a hellhound. Through the field of Asphodel.”

“That’s easy?”

“Let’s just get in line please?”

They got in line at the EZ death and Percy was shocked they hadn’t been attacked by the hellhound. It was probably because Percy smelled like he was dead but he wasn’t going to tell any of his friends that.

They walked through the fields of Asphodel quickly. Percy looked around for the familiar face of Hazel, but even if he did find her, it wasn’t like he had the ability to bring her back. The doors of death weren’t open and Hazel was dead - her body lost in the waters of Alaska. 

A part of him was glad he didn’t see her. 

“Percy?” Grover said, looking up at the sky. “Do you see that?”

Grovers face was pale, and he was pointing at something far in the distance. Percy squinted his eyes, trying to make out what Grover had seen. In the distance, bathing in the otherworldly light,  he could see three humanoid shapes - like shadows coming towards them. 

The closer they got the more solid they became. He recognized the leathery bat-like wings and flaking skin even with his eyes closed.

A fury. Not just any fury...Alecto. 

Fuck. Of course nothing would ever go right. 

“Oh shit,” Percy said. “Run!”

The group of friends took off like a gun went off, kicking up underworld dirt behind them as they sprinted. Percy didn’t dare look back, but he could hear their wings flapping behind him, sending currents of air hurtling towards them. He pumped his arms at his side, keeping a controlled but fast pace. 

He felt like he was running through quicksand. It didn’t matter how fast any of them ran - the fury was getting closer to them and quickly. And the voices…

The voices were growing louder in his head. Some of them screamed, others whispered or sang. Gods, what was wrong with him? Why did they fill his head? If they grew any louder he might just explode. 

It was getting closer. So close he could see Alecto’s razor sharp teeth and claws. 

They couldn’t outrun her…and If they couldn’t outrun her they were dead. His friends would be killed and it would be Percy’s fault. 

Alecto got dangerously close to Annabeth, swooping down to grab her. Luckily, Annabeth slammed her body to the ground, missing the furies talons by inches. She let out a scream - deep and guttural. Had the fury gotten her?

“Annabeth!” he screamed. 

They were fucked. 

The voices were growing louder as the seconds passed, and for the first time, Percy noticed where they were coming from. He had been so busy running, he hadn’t noticed where they were running to.

A few yards away was a gaping hole that led down to Percy’s nightmares. The Pit. Tarturus. Hell. 

They were seriously fucked. 

Percy stopped, his feet sliding on the ground. And turned to face the furies. Wasting no time, he pulled Riptide out of his pocket, and uncapped it, the metal glistening against the burning fires of hell. 

“Keep running!” he yelled back to his friends. “I can handle this.”

Percy held Riptide out towards the fury as if he was taunting her to come and try to kill him. 

“Percy–” he heard a voice behind him. Luke. 

Luke was pulling up Annabeth from the ground. Annabeth's knee was a bloody gash from where she fell, her bone bent at an unnatural angle  and she could barely put any weight on it. 

If Percy didn’t kill it,, all of them would be dead. Annabeth couldn’t get anywhere on that leg. He couldn’t let her die…

“Keep running, Luke,” he yelled, his eyes never once leaving the furies that would be on them in seconds. “Get Annabeth and Grover out of here, and remember your promise.”

There was reluctance on Luke's face, like he really didn’t want to leave Percy behind. But he nodded at Percy slowly, throwing Annabeth’s arm over his shoulder.

Percy felt relief flooding through his body. The voices hushed, as if they too were waiting on bated breath to see what would happen. Perhaps he would join those voices soon. 

“Percy no!” Annabeth screamed back at him, but Luke kept pulling her away. 

“Percy!” Grover screamed.

Percy pulled his attention back to Alecto who was smiling dangerously at him. “Lightning thief.”

“Alecto,” he smiled back. “Can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you.” Percy raised Riptide towards her - an undaunted horizon. He ignored the continual growing of voices in his head, and the pain burning through his brain. 

“Where is it?” she seethed. “We know you have it.”

“Tell Uncle Hades to go fuck himself,” he said. “I didn’t steal the bolt.”

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, thief,” she said, flapping her heavy wing. “I’m going to kill you slowly and painfully. You're dead already, or didn’t you know?”

“Fuck you,” he yelled, and charged. 

Alecto smiled at him, not a single trace of fear on her inhuman face. If he hadn’t been watching her so closely he would have missed it.

In retrospect,  It was funny how one look could change someone's entire life. 

Her eyes darted to Luke, Annabeth and Grover off in the distance, and before Percy could even breathe she took off after them. 

“NO!”

Percy ran after her, but he wasn’t fast enough. 

She was so close…Her talons were dangerously close to Luke. 

Filled with energy he didn’t know he could muster, he forced his legs to move faster - willing them to go beyond their capabilities. 

Just as her talons were about to embed themselves in Luke, he pushed the boy out of the way. Luke fell to the ground in a heap, taking Annabeth down with him. 

That was a mistake. The fury may have missed Luke, but she hadn’t missed Percy. 

Its claws raked through his flesh with brutal efficiency, leaving a gaping wound that felt like they went all the way down to the bone.  The pain was unbearable, as if a thousand needles were being driven into his flesh.

He coughed, trying to catch his breath, but the air was thick and hot, making it difficult to draw in a full breath.Alecto wasn’t done. She picked him up by her claws, driving a scream out of him. 

Percy was in open air. He kicked his feet, but every movement filled his body with a new spasm of pain. With all the strength he had left, moving through the pain and screams in his head, Percy uncapped Riptide, plunging it into Alecto’s side. 

“That’s for my mother,” he spat.

The monster let out a hideous shriek of pain and rage, its body shaking violently. The fury looked at him in surprise, her talons still plunged in his chest. 

For a moment, she simply held him up in open air like a fish on a hook. Then, she began to turn to gold dust in front of him, her grip loosening.

She dropped him, sending him flying through the air. He rolled over the stones, jagged rocks piercing through his skin. He tried to grab on to something- anything to keep him from moving. But, the force had been too powerful. Before he even knew what had happened, Percy went tumbling off the cliff. 

At the last moment, Percy let out a scream, and forced his arms forward, catching the edge with only one hand. Percy’s legs dangled over the pit, his body weight straining his small middle school arms. It felt like the muscles of his arm were being torn to shreds from the weight. As every second passed, he could feel another one of his tendons snap. 

“Get him!” he heard Annabeth scream. He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the horror in her voice. 

He tried to keep breathing and focus on anything but the pain.

“I’ve got him,” he heard another voice yell. 

He felt someone grab his wrist, and when Percy looked up to see who it was, his heart fell into his stomach and fell all the way down to Tarturtus. 

It was Luke.

The air was thick with tension, a palpable weight pressing down on Percy Jackson as he hung limply from Luke Castellan's strong grip. His fingers dug desperately into the rough rock beneath him, scrabbling for purchase against the unforgiving surface. Above him, Luke stared down, his face a mask of conflicting emotions:

“I’ve got you,” Luke said. Percy did not feel reassured. 

Percy could hear the furies flapping wings above them, but strangely enough they didn’t attack. It was like they were waiting for the inevitable.

“You're going to die, son of Poseidon,” Alecto hissed from up above. “Your friend will fail you. You will fail. Your death has been written for centuries.”

For Perseus’s death in legends resound. Was it always supposed to end like this?

“Percy!” Luke yelled. “Don’t listen to her. Look at me!” Percy did look up at Luke, but wished he hadn’t. The boy's face was bright red from trying to hold Percy up, - sweat beading down his forehead.

He was surprised to find the gentleness there and the determination to pull him back up. He was completely focused as if nothing else mattered. The boy tried to pull him up, a scream -raw and desperate forcing itself up from his throat. And in that moment, Percy felt a flicker of hope.

But then he stopped.

"Luke?" he croaked, his voice barely audible above the howling wind, and screams in his head. "Luke, please..."

All at once, Percy was taken back to his nightmares. Maybe destiny was always bringing them here - two boy lives relying on a single choice. Percy had always liked to think of destiny as more of a guideline. But now? Now his future never felt more inevitable. 

“Please, Luke,” Percy pleaded. “Please, you promised.” Percy’s life was in Luke’s hands. “Don’t do this, Please.”

Choices. It would always end with a choice between the two of them 

Luke's grip tightened for a moment, but then, slowly, inexorably, it began to loosen. His eyes met Percy's, and for a heart-stopping moment, Percy thought he saw something like regret flicker across his face. 

“Forgive me,” he said. 

Just like the fates had always planned, weaving their stories in tapestries thousands of years ago. 

Luke let go.

END OF PART ONE

“In shadows deep, where stories lie,

Percy Jackson says his last goodbye.”

 From the Songs of Perseus written by the god Apollo

Chapter Text

Interlude I

Chiron

When Chiron blew out the flame of sixteen blue candles, the salty sea breeze drifted through the opened window, blowing the threadbare curtains inwards. Warm light filtered in, creating a kaleidoscope of colors on the worn wooden flooring where countless demigods had stood for generations.

Happy Birthday Percy, he thought, looking at blue teeth decaying frosting. I’m so sorry. 

He cut into the cake, putting a heaping piece onto a flimsy paper plate, and threw it into the nearby fire. He watched the cake go up in smoke, cerulean flames spiraling upwards, just like the short and burning life of the young boy who had been killed all those years ago.

Then, he poured himself a glass of blue lemonade, he was sure the boy would have loved it. Percy never did have the opportunity to explain his obsession with blue food.

“You’re too sentimental,” a voice said. 

“And you're too cynical, Mr. D,” Chiron said back. “After a thousand years, my sentimentality has stopped me from losing my mind.”

Mr. D plopped down on the chair next to him, the chair screeching as he dragged across the aged wood and pulled out a diet coke from the depths of his pockets, cracking it open with a carbonated hiss.

“Cut me a slice,” the god said, surprising Chiron. 

“Whose being sentimental now?”

Chiron smiled knowingly at the man, and cut both the god and himself a piece. They ate in silence - the only sound in the room was their plastic cutlery hitting the plates.

“Do you do this for all of your campers?” Mr. D asked, but Chiron didn’t answer. All he could think of was all the dead children he burned shrouds for. They all had so much potential - so much more life to live.

“It's a shame really,” Mr. D said. “The boy had such potential. I thought he was the one. He could have changed everything.”

“I thought you hated him?” Chiron asked.

“I didn’t hate him,” Mr. D said. “I didn’t trust him. There is a difference.”

‘He was a child. You didn’t trust a twelve-year-old?” Chiron asked.

“Not as far as I could throw him,” the man confirmed. 

“Why?”

“He was hiding something,” the god said. “Some deep power.” 

Chiron nodded. He had seen that strange aura of darkness around him as well. It was almost like he was marked for death, or maybe even marked to cause death. It was why Chiron hadn’t wanted him on that quest. He should have known the boy was going to sneak away. 

But despite the darkness in the boy, there was something else Chiron had observed…something otherworldly.”

“Sometimes that boy–”

The god raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be afraid, Chiron. Finish the sentence.”

“Some demigods are closer to their godly side than their mortal. Hercules, Achilles, and Theseus to name a few. Percy was even closer than them. He could have…It's been four years. I just wonder what he could have achieved in all that time.”

“So much more,” the god said, and took a sip of his Diet Coke. 

It had been four years - four long years that seemed to never end. Somehow, they had dodged a war between the gods. But, that didn’t make things any better. 

Chiron would never forget the day Annabeth Chase, Grover Underwood, and Luke Castellan stormed into the throne room of Olympus just seconds before the solstice deadline without Percy. 

Percy was dead, they had told everyone – he had fallen into Tartarus in order to ensure the success of his friends. But, unfortunately, Zeus’s bolt fell with him. 

It was a miracle they didn’t go to war that day. In the end, it was Ares who told the gods what had actually happened. Kronos was alive - reforming and pulling the strings all the way down in Tartarus. Surprising everyone, the gods put aside their differences for the bigger picture. 

Percy was heralded a hero. Luke insisted on it.

But of course, Chiron knew the truth that the young demigods had refused to tell their parents. Percy had been the thief. Luke had found the bolt in his bag before they entered the underworld, and Percy had confessed in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard.

In the end, Percy had changed his heart and sacrificed to save them all. He was a hero.

But, if you asked Chiron what his biggest regret was, he would say without a doubt Perseus Jackson. He had been so young when he died - barely even hitting five feet. He was all limbs - skinny with his bones perturbing from his pale flesh. 

He knew Mr. D felt the same, as much as he tried to hide it. He always had a soft spot for the boy. 

“To Perseus,” Mr. D said, raising his coke in a toast. “May you be at peace…wherever you are.”

As if Poseidon himself was listening, outside the sky opened up, and water poured down from clear skies. Thunder roared in the distance, and Chiron wondered if even Zeus himself mourned the poor boy's death. 

“Wherever you are?” Chiron said, raising an eyebrow. 

The god stared intently down at his cake, moving it back and forth with his fork. “Well, he fell into Tartarus. For all we know he might still be alive.”

It was a fantastical idea - wistful and extremely impossible. Mr. D really was growing soft as the years passed.  “You really are sentimental. No one can survive Tartarus. Percy was 12. He’s long dead, my friend.”

The truth was, Chiron didn’t want to imagine 12-year-old Percy surviving Tartarus. He wouldn’t wish that type of hell of earth on his worst enemy for four seconds, let alone four years. No, it was better if Percy was dead. Maybe then, the boy wouldn’t have to suffer.

Mr. D smiled, mischievously, his pearly teeth glistening - almost like he knew some secret that Chiron could never know. “I wouldn’t be so sure. That boy was nothing if not surprising. If anyone could survive that place, I bet he could.”

Chiron sighed. “Even if he did survive. I’m not sure there would be much of the Percy we knew left. He might not be the same person we remember.”

The door to the big house slammed open, the whole house shaking from the brunt of it. Annabeth Chase burst through the door, covered in sweat and dirt. Her hair was drenched from the sudden downpour. It almost looked like she had gone through rounds with Rocky and won. 

She simply stared for a moment, her eyes wide and hair a mess as she struggled to take in breath. 

“Chiron,” she heaved, her words sounding forced. “There’s been another monster attack. A cyclops…”

“Was anyone hurt, Annabeth?”

Chiron pulled out a chair for the young girl to sit on and poured her a glass of lemonade. The young girl drank it all in one sip, without stopping for air. Once she was done, she whipped the sugary liquid off of her mouth and relaxed into the chair.

The young girl was silent, staring at her worn converse like they held all the secrets to the universe in their laces. 

“Annabeth?”

“Michael Yew is injured but everyone else is okay.”

Chiron felt himself relax for a moment. The last attack…the last attack had taken too many lives. Drew Tanaka, Jake Mason, and Katie Gardner.  

There were always more shrouds to burn - more phone calls to parents, and more tears he didn’t know to wipe. How many children had Chiron helped usher to the underworld while he never aged? He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. 

“Good,” Chiron said. “Go to your cabin and get some rest. We’ll have to refortify the defenses soon.”

Annabeth's eyes drifted down to the blue cake at the table and her eyes grew dark, her jaw tightening and hands forming fists at his side.

She stood up abruptly, the chair clattering to the ground behind her. Mr. D looked at the chair with disdain but said nothing. “Are you really mourning the boy who betrayed us?”

“Annabeth–”

“We are all in this mess because of him, and you made him a birthday cake?”

“Annabeth,” Mr. D said, with a surprising amount of gentleness. “Percy was a child manipulated by his father. He was not at fault for the mistake of simply being born.”

“I’m glad he fell into Tartarus,” she said. “I’m glad–”

“No, you aren’t,” Mr. D said, reading her like the books she used to love to read so frequently. “You just want someone to blame. Percy’s dead. It's easy to blame someone when they can’t yell at your back.”

“I–”

“Besides,” Mr. D said. “I don’t think Percy really betrayed you.”

Annabeth's head snapped to him. “Of course he did. He stole the bolt. Luke found it in his bag.”

“If you say so,” the god said, and took a sip of his coke.

“Annabeth,” Chiron said carefully. “I understand your anger. But it does not bode well to speak ill of the dead. Percy, despite all of his faults, saved your lives.  Even Luke said Percy was a hero in the end. If not for him the two of you would have been turned to ribbons by the kindly one. Whatever Percy had been doing when he first came to camp, he’d obviously realized the error of his ways. He was a hero who deserves Elysium. 

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said, nodding to him slowly. “I’m just–Percy was my friend, I thought. I trusted him, and–” He wondered how hard that was for the girls whose fatal flaw was pride to say. 

“I know,” Chiron said. “But I do think Percy thought of you as a friend. Why else would he have gone against his father and saved your lives?”

Annabeth nodded slowly, the exhaustion of the day hitting her. Her eyes were drooping, and she looked like she was about to pass out where she stood. 

“Go get some rest, please, and get to the infirmary. You look like you are about to collapse.”

The girl nodded at him before taking off out of the big house. 

“The attacks are getting more frequent, Chiron. We won’t last much longer.

Chiron sighed. “We have to. The prophecy— “

 “I don’t give a flying fuck about that prophecy. I refuse to believe it or let it happen. Besides there is no child of the big three nearing sixteen. Percy is gone. There is no one else.”

“Dionysus–”

“We lost any chance of winning this the moment Percy fell into Tartarus. That boy was are only hope and now–”

Chiron sighed, leaning back into his wooden chair. “Even you can’t fight the fates. Someone else will come. The prophecy still stands. A child of the eldest gods will reach tw–”

“Chiron,” the god said, his eyes suddenly blazing with the fires of hell. “I don’t want to hear about the prophecy. That thing had killed too many young demigods. I won’t have it killing anyone else.”

The duo fell into silence again. 

“I best be going,” Mr. D finally said. “Things are not calm on Olympus.”

“They haven’t been for years,” Chiron observed. 

“The gods are tired of seeing their children murdered,” the gods said. “These attacks– there is only so much we can do. We may pretend we don’t care for our children for their sake but that doesn’t mean we don’t feel their loss. Camp doesn’t have a border to protect itself. One day, there won’t be a camp to protect.”

“Then perhaps the gods should make one,” he said.

The god sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “A border like that can only be made by the oldest form of magic. Sacrifice.   I don’t see kids waiting in line to kill themselves to make a magical border around the camp. Do you?”

“Our defenses won’t last long,” the centaur said. “It’s only a matter of time before the monsters destroy us completely.”

“We just need more time,” Mr. D said. He stared out the window, watching the kids sharpen their swords and begin to rebuild the traps and walls they had built. 

“Time for what?” Chiron asked. What exactly was that god thinking of? It was like he knew something Chiron could never understand.

“For him.”

Another camper ran into the cabin, breathing heavily. Gods, Chiron hoped there hadn’t been another attack already. They were by no means ready to mount a defense. Another attack so soon after the first could mean countless deaths. 

Will Solace stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, like he had just run a mile without stopping.    

“Mr. D, Chiron,” he huffed out between ragged breaths. “I think…I think…”

Mr. D rolled his eyes, clearly losing patience. “Well spit it out boy. We haven’t all day, you know? I need to be on Olympus…” he looked at his watch. “Well, now.”

“Clarisse is trying to kill Luke Castellan.”

Chiron sighed. He needed a vacation.  He needed an entire handle of tequila. 

“Thank you, Will,” he said. “I will be there soon.”

“It looked like she wanted to chop his head off.”

“I’m leaving now.”

Mr. D openly laughed, earning a glare from him. Honestly, why did he think children trying to murder each other was something to laugh about? He would never understand the man.

"Good luck, Chiron," the man said, before disappearing in a shower of gold. "I think you'll need it."

It was going to take much more than luck to get them through the upcoming trials.

Chapter Text

Interlude II

Clarisse

Clarisse hacked at the training dummy, reducing it into splitters scattered across the shadowed training field like confetti. 

It was a hundred degrees in the shade and sweat poured down the girls back like waterfalls. Her skin was red, hot and sticky - still covered in blood and monster dust from the fight, but she paid it no mind.  There was only one thing burning throughout her brain. 

She was going to kill Luke Castellan. 

She was going to murder him and rip him into so many tiny pieces that no one would ever be able to put him back together again. Then she was going to sprinkle what was left of him in the Hudson where not even fisherman would ever dare to go.

Let him rot with the rest of the New York City litter. He deserved no more and no less after what he had done. 

Michael could have died because of his idiocy. Gods, Michael could have died. 

“Whose face are you imagining that is?” she heard a voice said. She turned around quickly, nearly taking off the person's head with the edge of her sword. 

Luckily, she caught herself before she could do any real damage. But she wished she hadn’t stopped. She thought he would look better without a head. 

Luke smirked at her, leaning against the wall of the weapons shed, his arms crossed over his chest, just like an asshole. 

“Gee, I wonder who?” She said and swung the sword, decapitating the poor dummy. Shards of wood went flying and Luke had to step out of the way to not get hit. 

“Clarisse–”

“You.”

She wacked the training dummy.

“Are.”

She hit its arms.

“The most!”

She hit its leg, wood chips flying.

“Stupid.”

Hit

“Person.”

Hit

“EVER!”

Luke winced, his gaze never once leaving the poor dummy that had completely mutilated.

“Clarisse, you gotta sort out your anger issues.”

Anger issues? Anger issues? Had the man completely lost his mind? She was going to destroy him completely - turn his insides to goo. He hadn’t seen anger issues yet. 

“Fuck you,” she yelled at him, and took off an arm of the training dummy. 

She charged at him. Not wasting a moment, she kicked his stomach. Luke (who hadn't been expecting the kick because he was stupid.) grunted from the impact and jumped back.

“What the hell, Clarisse? What the literal fucking hell?”

“You were supposed to be watching the woods!” she yelled. “Where the fuck were you?”

She slashed at him again, but he jumped back. “Clarisse?”

“Because of you Michael may not live,” she yelled. “Because of you, he is lying in the infirmary struggling to survive! Where the fuck where you?”

“It was an accident,” he yelled. “I was handling a cyclops by the tennis courts. One snuck passed the perimeter and was heading towards the big house.”

“That isn’t an excuse, Castellan! You were supposed to be on guard duty all morning. You shouldn’t have been anywhere near the tennis courts. We needed you, and–”

“Clar–”

“I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want to hear your excuses. Next time, we might not be so lucky. Next time, some could die because of your stupidity!”

“Clarisse,” the boy yelled, dodging a swipe of her sword. “Stop! It was an accident!”

“Tell that to Michael!”

Clarisse took another swing at Luke, but this time, he was ready. He had pulled Backbiter from his sheath, blocking the sword in an instant. The metal rang throughout the camp, and several onlookers had appeared at the edges of the training grounds to see what was happening. 

Great, an audience. She never had any issues with performance.  

“Clarisse,” Luke said. “You’ve said what you’ve had to say. Let's calm down.”

Clarisse swung the sword, and he jumped out of the way again. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to tell a woman to calm down?”

“Ummm, no?” 

Their swords collided again - metal against metal. In almost an instant, the sky turned gray, and rain started to pour from the sky. The downpour was so heavy, they were drenched in seconds. The water weighed her down, and made the sword lose in her hand but she really didn’t care. 

She’s always liked the rain. She liked the way it tap danced on the metal cabin roofs. The sound was soothing - like white noise. She liked sitting in the rain, letting the water completely cover her, until she was shivering and had to go inside for something warm. She liked the way some part of it reminded her of him.

“Where the fuck were you?’

The two circled each other at sword point - each waiting for the other person to move first. She had heard Luke Castellan was the greatest swordsman to ever live. She wasn’t sure if she believed it. 

She lunged quickly, but Luke smirked at her, almost like he was expecting her to lash out at him. He danced away from her sword, readjusting his grip on his pommel, and jabbed the sword towards her. 

She swung the sword again…Gods, she was angry, who did this stupid boy think he was? How did he think he stood a chance against the daughter of the war god?

The rain began to let up and with it came the sun, beading down on their skin, and warming her body. Not only was she wet, but now, the heat was making her skin itch and feel sticky to the touch. 

“Clarisse,” Luke said. “I think that's enough. Can we just please talk about this?”

Clarisse ignored him. She wasn’t sure how long they were in that training yard exchanging blows. But her arms had begun to tire, and she could feel her movements getting slower as every moment passed. 

She’d have to end it, and quickly. 

Clarisse may have strength, but Luke was fast, and was quickly tiring her out by dancing around her with grace. 

She swung the sword…

“Clarisse!” A voice yelled. “That is enough!”

Clarisse stopped mid swing, but wished she hadn’t. She wanted to kill him. For years, the man had been running on borrowed time –making mistake after mistake that had cost so many lives. 

Clarisse turned to Chiron who was looking at her with nothing but disappointment. He could take his disappointment and shove it up his horse's ass. They weren’t children anymore and when someone fucked up they needed to be held accountable.

The horse man had his hands on his hips and was standing next to an exhausted Will Solace who looked ready to collapse at any moment. 

“Are you alright?” Chiron asked Luke, who was holding his arm. Blood flowed freely from the wound, seeping through his fingers. It looked like it hurt. Good. 

“Just a graze,” Luke said. “I’ll be fine.”

One of her siblings grabbed Clarisse by the arm, pulling her back towards their cabin. But, she pulled away quickly.

“Let me go,” she hissed. “I’m fine.”

All Clarisse saw was red. She wanted to murder that stupid, stupid boy. Someone grabbed her again, but she quickly knocked them away

“I wish it had been you who fell into Tartarus!” Clarisse yelled, and the minute she did, she wished she could take it back. There were some lines even she wouldn’t cross. 

The accusation rang through the air, leaving both campers and Chiron alike stunned by the comment. 

“So do I,” Luke said. “But Percy isn’t here anymore.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You know I tried to pull him up, Clarisse,” he said, shame crossing his face. “I tried. He was bleeding and he slipped through my hands. I–”

“Clarisse!” Chiron yelled. “Enough! Today of all days, is not the time to bring this up!”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I–”

Maybe she had gone too far.

She really was sorry. Percy…Percy’s death had affected everyone - most of all Luke. They boy had never been the same after he came back from his quest. He didn’t talk to many people besides Annabeth or Grover. And he was angrier. It was like a cloud of darkness followed him wherever he went.

“Go to your cabin, Clarisse,” Chiron raised his voice. “Now.”

It was at moments like these where she remembered just who Chiron was. Yes, he was their teacher. But, he was also thousands of years old. He didn’t show his power often, but when he did…

Luke shook his head. “No it’s alright, Chiron. Clarisse was right. I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.”

Chiron nodded at the two of them wearily. “I will leave you two. It looks like you have much to talk about. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone. I can’t lose any more campers.”

Clarisse watched the man trot away, and some part of her longed for him to come back. Others, her cabin mates included, left reluctantly. 

They simply stared at each other for a moment. Clarisse had crossed a line, she knew. Percy was a taboo subject at camp. Everyone could agree that he was just a poor kid stuck in the middle of war, 

“Clarisse,” Luke said. “I will never forget that day and not regret what happened. I tried, and then…” Clarisse didn’t have to see his face to hear the sadness in his voice. 

“And then what?” she crossed her hands over her chest and refused to look at the boy. The trees looked quite interesting today. 

Luke shrugged his shoulders and kicked a nearby pebble so hard it flew into the lake and hit a poor naiad. 

“That’s just it,” he said. “I don’t remember. I think I blocked it all out if I’m honest. Because one moment, I’m holding Percy, and the next thing I know Annabeth is sobbing in my arms, and Percy is gone…”

“That's–” Crazy? Bullshit? Clarisse didn’t know what it was. 

“Chiron said it was a trauma response. He said my mind made me forget to protect itself.”

“We all have trauma, Luke.”

Luke sat down on a wooden bench, and let his head fall into his hands. For a moment Clarisse pitied him. She had never seen him look so defeated before - so close to giving up. 

“You know, I promised him he was going to live. He must have known something was going to happen, because he made me promise to get his mom out if anything happened to him. I told him it would be fine, and that I would get both of them out…”

“You couldn’t have known,”

“I should have tried harder. Goddammit, I don’t even know why I can’t remember what happened.”

“Did you get his mom out?” Clarisse asked. She had never heard what happened to Sally Jackson. She hoped she had lived for Luke’s sake. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It was the one good thing I’ve ever done in my life. Sally–she’s a kind woman. She didn’t even yell at me when I told her what happened. She just–she hugged me.’

Clarisse nodded at Luke. She wondered what it would have been like to have a family who cared for her. The closest people in her life had always been the campers.  “Percy was lucky in that regard.”

“You know,” Luke continued. “Sometimes I envy that poor dead kid. Here we are still kicking in the middle of a war, and he gets to rest. Death…well death seems really good sometimes.”

Clarisse plopped down next to him on the bench, the aged wood creaking as she sat.  Every single camper was just nine levels of messed up – Clarisse and Luke included. 

“It’s going to be okay, Luke,” she said, even though she didn’t believe it herself. How on earth could things be okay when their friends were dying every single day?

“I don’t know what's wrong with me, Clarisse,” Luke said. “Sometimes, I just snap, and what's killing me is I don’t know why.”

“Hey,” Clarisse said. “We're all a little crazy. You know that? I almost just killed you.”

“Yeah, but most random people don’t have random memory loss.”

“You know what we need?” Clarisse asked. She plopped her backpack on the mulch and pulled out a suspicious unlabeled bottle of clear liquid, she’d been gifted from the Stoll brothers. She put it down on the bench and dug into her bag pulling out two Disney princess plastic cups she had found in storage. 

She opened it up the bottle, putting it under Luke's Nose.

“Tequila?” the boy asked, looking rather disgusted for a boy who she had seen do thirteen Jello shots once. 

Clarisse scoffed. Who did the man thing she was? ‘It’s gin. I’m not a monster.”

Luke put his hands up in mock defeat. ‘Never said you were. Tequila gives me heartburn. 

“You’re getting old,” she said. She poured a small amount of the liquid into each cup, handing one to Luke. 

“To getting old,” she said, giving a toast.

Luke looked sadly down at the cup. “To Percy.”

Clarisse felt her heart break. Of all the ghosts at camp half blood, he was the one she could never run away from. “To Percy.”

Chapter Text

Percy lost track of time, about 3 hours after his fall. The descent seemed to stretch on for an eternity. At times, he felt like he was falling through nothingness, other times, he would pass by wisps of fog or patches of black stone. Once, he even thought he saw a figure in the distance, but it was gone before he could make out any details. He wondered if it was a friend, or an enemy, or perhaps even a figment of his imagination.

He kept falling…

And falling…

And falling…

Honestly, he had to have broken a Guinness World Record for how long someone could fall without dying. 

The impact didn’t kill him, but he wished it had. The first  time he had fallen into Tarturus, he had been lucky enough to fall into water. Or unlucky, depending what you thought about the river of misery. 

This time, he landed in fire. The shock took the air right out of his lungs. His limbs turned rigid, and he felt like he needed to bathe in a vat of aloe vera for the rest of eternity. 

Then there were the voices forming their way into his brain, willing him to give up. Hades only knew how much he wanted to listen to them. 

What’s the point of struggling? they told him. Y ou’re dead anyway. You’ll never leave this place. He could sink to the bottom and drown. The son of Poseidon would drown, and no one would ever know. That would be easier. He could just close his eyes …

He had done so much for so long only to end up back in a hell he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. No one would blame him for just giving up.

But, the visage of his Annabeth flooded his senses. Long blonde hair, mischievous gray eyes and a streak of white. If he ever wanted to see her again, he had to survive. .

Give up, the voices said. You’ll never see her again.

Give up…

Give her up….

He couldn’t give her up…Even though he knew he would never see her again. Even the memory of her was sacred– something he would never forget. Hera herself could try to take away the memory, but it would never work. 

He wanted to see them all again. The friendships he had made with the seven had kept him going even in the hardest of times. He knew it would never be the same ever again, but if he could just meet them all one last time, he’d be content. 

 Hazel, Leo, Piper, Jason, Reyna, Annabeth, Grover, and Frank, and Nico. He had to see them all again. He had to.

He opened his eyes, swimming through the fire that burned his skin, and filled his body with pain. All he could see were swirling shades of red and orange drifting in dancing tendrils. 

When he burst from the fire, he landed on sand. Or something similar to it. Instead of the soft beach sand that sinks through your toes, Percy felt like he was laying on glass. Shards of glass cut into his skin, rubbing his skin raw. 

He dragged himself up from the ground, thankful that the fire somehow hadn’t burned off his clothes or shoes. He could still feel the heat of the river of fire on his skin - even away from it, he could feel it burning him

But, what he couldn’t ignore was the searing pain from his chest. He looked down, to find his flesh torn to ribbons where Alecto had impaled him with her talons. 

He pulled away a part of his ruined shirt, hissing through his teeth, to see the damage. 

It was worse than he thought it was. 

His skin was a mess - torn to shreds, blood continuously pouring from the gashes. Was this it? After everything that had happened to him would he be killed by the talons of a fury? Was the first monster he had ever seen meant to be the last?

Percy tore at a small part of his shirt - the only part that was clean enough and not fraying at the edges. The cloth ripped and luckily it was long enough for him to wrap around his torso. 

It felt like it took him hours to tie the small piece of fabric holding in his entrails. But, when he finally finished the knot, he let his head fall back down to the ground for a split second of respite. 

How the fuck was he supposed to get out of this place when his insides were seconds away from falling out of his body?

Letting out a small scream, he forced himself to sit up. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the backpack he had been wearing strewn across the river bank. Not too far away from the bag he could see a squashed bag of ambrosia that Clarisse had given him before he left for camp. 

He had never before felt so thankful to Clarisse La Rue. 

He dragged himself towards it, his muscles spasming, blood spilling out like waterfalls. His arms ached, as his fingers gripped into the glass  sand, pulling him forward, but he kept moving. If he didn’t…

The moment his hand touched the plastic back of ambrosia he ripped open the ziplock, and grabbed a piece, shoving it into his mouth. 

His taste of his mother’s cookies melted into his mouth - chocolate chips, butter, and sea salt, warming his stomach. What he would kill for a glass of milk or water.

He took one more small bite. He wasn’t sure how much he could risk, and if it would be helpful to him at all. But, if he did somehow manage to survive this, something told Percy he would need as much ambrosia as he could get. 

Already he could feel some of the pain fade away, but when he looked down to his injuries, the deeper parts still hadn’t healed. They weren’t as deep but still very life threatening if he didn’t get medical attention and soon. 

He had to seal up his wounds somehow, if only to stop the bleeding. Hopefully, the ambrosia would be able to handle the rest. Hopefully.

He rifled through the bag, which Ares had left behind. Luckily, there was a metal bottle of water, some nectar, protein bars, and a clean shirt. It was more than he had last time, so he guessed he should feel grateful. 

He ignored the small lightning bolt, hidden under the shirt. It was truly amazing how something so small could be so important. Wars would be raged, kings toppled, and entire empires brought to ruins all because of a little hunk of metal. 

He wasn’t sure how it would be able to help him. It was a dangerous weapon but Percy had no idea how to control it. He didn’t like the bolt being down in Tartarus. If Kronos somehow got his hands on it, it didn’t matter if Percy got out of that hell hole. They would all be dead anyways.

An idea flooded through his mind. Oh gods, if he lived through it, Zeus was going to kill him. He wasn’t even sure if it would work…

He was probably going to die in the process.But, he had to do something. He couldn’t die all alone on a beach surrounded by a river of fire. If he was going to die, it was going to be on his own terms. 

The moment he touched the lightning bolt. Pain flooded through his arms, circulating throughout his entire body. He ignored the pain as best he could, gritting his teeth so hard he was surprised they hadn’t shattered in his mouth. 

For fucks sake, he had lost his mind. Where was Annabeth when he needed her. No doubt, she would have found any other way. 

She would have called him stupid by now, then come up with some rational explanation for them to get out of this mess. He needed her. And what hurt the most, was that he would never see his Annabeth ever again. In her place, was some stranger, 5 years younger, with none of their shared history. 

Before he could think better of it, he took a deep breath and with shaking hands he touched the glowing end of the bolt on his injuries. Percy saw red.

He had thought he’d known what pain was. He had held up the sky on his shoulders, bathed in the river of styx, forced to eat camp food. But, nothing could have ever prepared him for this. 

He dragged the bolt across, his skin, smoke billowing up in the air with the stench of burnt flesh. Already, he could see his skin, connecting back together from the cauterization – red flesh singeing at the edges. 

Oh gods. The moment he stopped the burning, he dropped the bolt down on the ground. It clattered away only a few feet away from him. 

He tried to breathe in., ready for the acid air of Tartarus that would burn through his lungs.  But, I was surprised that there was none. The last time he’d been in Tartarus, the very air he breathed had been toxic to him. He had felt blood pooling in his chest, bile rising up through his throat. Now, he was uncomfortable, it felt like there was a bowling ball sitting on his chest, but other than that he could breathe fine. 

Which was probably the only part of him that did feel fine.  

He wasn't sure how long he remained there, lost in his own thoughts and the throbbing agony. Time seemed to slow down, each breath a struggle against the encroaching darkness. Slowly, he became aware of the sounds around him: the rush of water turning rapidly from the river,, the distant call of a bird. The pain began to recede, replaced by a dull ache that he could almost ignore. Hopefully, the ambrosia would handle the rest, and everything would be fine. 

He had to get out…he had to get out…he had to.

When he got out, he was going to brutally murder Luke Castellan. Percy shouldn’t have been surprised - he had quite literally seen it coming. But, some part of him had hoped – prayed– that he had been able to get through to him

It only hurt Percy more, knowing that he should have been able to stop it. Goddamn him and his fucking loyalty…

He could sit there, and think of all the things he could have done, or he could do something - anything….

He was an idiot…a complete idiot. Maybe there was a way for him to get back home. 

Very carefully, so as not to cause any more pain, he pulled out the pearl from his pocket his father had given him. Could the pearl work in Tartarus? Probably not, but it was worth a chance. 

Praying to his father, he smashed the pearl, hoping the thing would send him all the way back to camp. The pearl shattered into a thousand pieces across the beach, and Percy held his breath. 

Nothing happened. 

Percy was fucked. 

So, he was going to have to do this the hard way. Somehow, he would have to make it across Tartarus with no help, in the body of a twelve year old boy. Somewhere, Kronos was lurking - do doubt excited to kill him. 

It would be easy. Everything was definitely going to be fine. What could possibly ever go wrong?

Gingerly, he placed his hands on the ground around him and pushed himself up onto all fours. The movement sent a sharp stab of pain through his side, but he forced himself to ignore it. The longer he spent on the beach, the longer he spent in Tartarus. Every second counted. 

He picked up the bolt, a shock of pain rushing through his body as he held it, and shoved it back into his pack, throwing it on his back. The weight felt like he was carrying a bag full of rocks, but it would have to do. 

With a deep breath he began to walk, putting one foot in front of the other, until he could ignore the pain in his side. He wasn’t sure where he was in Tartarus. There were so many rivers in the depths that he could have been anywhere. His best bet would be to find some landmark he had seen before so he could orient himself to the place. 

Maybe then he could find a way out. 

He finally took in his surroundings. He was on a beach, that much was obvious. But, in front of him, a large hill grew, and the beach seemed to be in the center of it.  The hill seemed to taunt him, a beacon of hope that was yet to be reached. 

He leaned heavily on his sword for support, and began to hobble up the hill. The terrain was treacherous, the ground uneven and littered with rocks and loose stones. His legs almost buckled underneath him several times, sending sharp, stabbing pains through his body, but he refused to give in. 

Slowly, but surely, he made progress, pulling himself out of the ditch, and up the hill.  When he was at the top, he almost fell back down from exhaustion. But, using all the strength he had left, he was able to pull himself over the edge. 

He laid on the dirt for a moment, before he looked where he was. The hill he was on was larger than expected, and on top of it were ruins that looked thousands of years old. There were broken columns scattered across the embankment. Some of them are still intact, holding up roofs that no longer existed. 

Something about it…

There was something otherworldly about it – something sacred. His skin was buzzing –every inch of him screaming at him to leave- something wasn’t right. 

Even the air around him felt different somehow. It was colder on the hill, which was odd considering he was in fucking hell. The breeze kissed his skin, and he wondered if Tartarus had timeshares. Considering how often he ended up there, he should probably invest in some real estate. At least this place had a nice breeze and a lovely view of a river of fire. 

In front of him only a few feet away, was a statue of someone. It looked like..Lethe? Gods, his mind hurt trying to think of all the gods he’d seen. All of their statues looked the same. 

“You’ve met a terrible fate,” a voice said. 

Immediately, Percy uncapped riptide with what little energy he had left and swung it at the sound of the voice. 

He froze when he realized who was standing by him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Achilles raised an eyebrow at him. “Have we met?”

From a certain point of view they had. But, Percy wasn’t about to tell him that.

“No,” he said. “I’m just surprised to see anyone down here. I thought even ghosts were afraid of this place.”

Achilles smiled at him gently. “They are. I do not wish to be here, young godling.”

Percy capped riptide. The ghost would do him no harm…hopefully. “Then why are you here? I thought you couldn’t leave the river Styx?”

The ghost smiled at Percy again. “But we are near it.”

“No,” Percy said. “Because the river I just fell into should have killed me if it was the River Styx. And, that's not what it feels like…”

“It’s not the Styx. But, here is the Delta of Despair, where the Styx, The River Cocytus, and the Lethe meet. My job is to warn anyone who might consider bathing in the styx.”

Ah, so Percy had been right. The statue must have been Lethe. He guessed he had been paying attention to Annabeth's long lectures. 

Percy thought about it for a moment. He had bathed in the river once before. What was to stop him from doing it again? He could be invisible - able to stop Kronos from ever trying to rise again. 

But, this time, he didn’t have his mothers blessing. And this time, he wasn’t sure what would tether him to his life. 

“Don’t worry,” Percy told the ghost. “I’m not planning on bathing in the river again. Once was enough for me. I just want a way out of this place.”

The ghost's eyes went wide and Percy realized his mistake too late. “Again? But you do not bear my curse?”

“Oh, yeah,” Percy said, cringing. He guessed he could tell the ghost, who else was he going to tell? “I’ve had the curse before, but I’ve crossed the Tiber. Your curse is Greek, it cannot stand on Roman grounds.”

“Rome?” Achille said. “You cannot possibly be Roman?” The ghost eyes fluttered down the Percy arm where he was no doubt looking for the sign of the legion. His face scrunched in confusion when he saw no marks. 

“But how?” 

Some part of Percy wanted to tell the ghost his story. He had been hiding the truth for so long that it had grown heavy on his heart and had begun to eat away at him. He wanted someone to know - even if it was a random ghost of a hero long since dead. 

He shook his head - it was wishful thinking.

“It’s a long story,” Percy said. “One filled with pain, suffering and death. Please do not ask me to tell you.”

The ghost nodded. “I could recognize the broken soul of a hero anywhere. You have burdens on your shoulders no one could ever hope to understand. You ask yourself if it's worth it - if you are worth it. You’ve suffered and you wonder why the fates have cursed you. But, never forget who you are, and what you have accomplished. The path may seem dark and it may get darker, but they have made you into the person you are today.”

That was oddly poetic, and oddly unsettling. “Thanks. I think.” Percy didn’t realize he needed a pep talk from a dead man. 

The ghost nodded. “You have several options. You could travel through to the doors of death, but I would not recommend opening them. You never know what might follow you out. Thanatos does not like those who try to open his doors.”

“Trust me,” Percy said. “I have no desire to ever see those doors again or Thanatos for that matter.”

The ghost shook his head, knowing there was a story there that Percy would never reveal. “There is one way out of here if you aren't going through the doors of death. It will take you straight up to the mortal world. It is not far - only a three day journey but..”

“The mortal one sounds great,” Percy said, leaning on his sword for support. “Lead the way. Oh great one.”

The ghost shook his head, and for the first time, Percy saw genuine fear in his eyes. “I will not take you there. By the entrance there is…”

“What?”

“An entity. Older than time, biding his time to escape.”

“Kronos,” Percy spat. At least now, he knew where the monster was. He’d have to fight him at some point. But, Percy wasn’t powerful enough now. He was still in the body of his twelve year old self - wounded and exhausted.

If he went after Kronos now he was a dead man walking.(Technically he already was a dead man walking.)

“Do you know of him?”

Percy nodded. Even after all these years, his chest still seized when he thought of the Titan. That day in the throne room with Olympus falling all around them haunted his every nightmare. He could never forget the fallen form of Luke as he plunged the sword into his Achilles spot. 

He’d never forget the sobs of Annabeth for months after. He’d held her, because that's all he could do. Nothing could ever fix what had happened to them.

Achilles' eyes went wide for a moment - shock running through his body. “Someone approaches,” he said. “Good luck, young hero. You will need it.”

The ghost disappeared in a flash of golden light, leaving Percy completely alone. Just like before, the ruins were silent, chilling Percy to the bone. 

Great, because that wasn’t ominous at all. Knowing his luck the Minatour was behind him. Or maybe, even Jesus ....(Jesus probably wasn’t in Tartarus if he really thought about it.)

He squinted his eyes in the darkness. A figure approached him, growing larger in the shadows. He walked through the ruins like a ghost –feet light but quick. Whoever it was, was human, standing on two strong legs. He had well built shoulders- his arms well muscled.

The closer the man got, the more he thought the fates really did hate him. No one, and he meant no one, would have thought something like this was funny besides them.

Somewhere they were laughing with giant buckets of popcorn while they watched his life go to shit. He cursed them with butterless popcorn for all eternity. 

“Tantalus,” he said. He hadn’t thought about the man in years. He had been terrible - filling Percy with Paranoia and making him feel so small. 

The man didn’t look that different than he had all those years ago. Something about seeing the man just filled him with frustration. He couldn’t help but wonder what the man had done to be Tartarus. 

“Do I know you, boy?” he asked. The man looked down at Percy with an observing eye - taking in his injuries and the blood splattered all over himself. No doubt, Percy looked absolutely terrible.He probably wasn’t much to look at. 

“I’ve heard of you,” Percy said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. He wasn’t sure it was working.

“Who are you?” the man asked. “Your aura. The stench of you is something I have never felt before.” His nonchalance definitely wasn’t working. 

“I’m Percy,” Percy said. “Ummm…Hi?”

The man smiled, showing rotted teeth. Percy didn’t remember them looking so terrible before. But then again, that had been years ago. 

“Son of Poseidon,” Tantalus said. “I’ve heard of you. The boy who smells like death. But who are you? Who are you really?”

Right, because that didn’t sound ominous at all. 

Something about the way the man said it, alarmed him deeply. It was like Tantalus knew something Percy didn’t. Which was odd, considering he was the one who knew all about the future.

“Oh?” he said. “All good things, I hope.”

“You’re quite famous down here, you know? Medusa hasn’t shut up in days. She keeps talking about you cutting off her head. Apparently, it's now a trophy in the throne room of Olympus. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that? Would you?”

Percy shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea what you're talking about.” Served her right for turning Grover’s uncle into a garden statue. 

“When she hears you are down here, she will stop at nothing to kill you. Perhaps, I should tell her? It might keep you on your toes.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t help If I asked you not to?” Percy asked. “You know, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship, if you just pretended you never saw me? We could go on our merry ways, and I could not kill you?”

The panic began to seep in, but Percy shoved it down, so as not to think about it. He was injured -terribly so, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to survive an altercation with anything about now. But, He could think about it later - cross that bridge when he came to it. But, something told Percy he wouldn’t walk away from his reunion with his old camp director easily. 

Tantalus pulled out a sword, seemingly from nowhere and aimed it at Percy. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy killing you, boy.”

Percy uncapped riptide. “Not if I kill you first.”

Percy tried to hide his exhaustion. He squared his shoulders, held his head high, and raised the sword towards the man almost like he was taunting him. For a small moment, he saw uncertainty cross the man's face, his eyes lost their mischievousness, and his jaw tightened. 

He smiled at him - his eyes filled with an unholy glee.  “You are playing a dangerous game.”

“I don’t play games– I win them.”

The sky above, a deep shade of crimson that seemed to drip like blood, cast an unnatural glow over the ruins of the ancient temple. The sword in Percy's hand seemed to hum with power, its blade glowing with a fierce light that defied the encroaching gloom.

The ground trembled as the two combatants lunged forward, their swords meeting with a deafening clang. Percy felt the vibration run up his arm, through his body, and into his bones. He pressed forward, Tantalus back a step. 

The man looked up at him, shocked by his strength. 

“But how?” he asked. “Your still–”

“A child?” Percy asked. “Hardly.”

“You're an unclaimed demigod who hasn’t known of his birthright for more than a few months.” His golden eyes betrayed his growing desperation – he was afraid. “What?’

Percy let him see the real him – the person he had been hiding for so long. It was releasing in a way, to finally let someone see the real him, even if Percy was going to kill him. 

Tantalus eyes went wide, the moment Percy’s demeanor changed. The man swallowed air, but tightened his grip on his sword. 

Percy fainted high, then slashed low, aiming for his legs. He leapt nimbly aside, but the movement threw him off-balance, and Percy pressed his advantage, landing a glancing blow on his side.

Tantalus howl of pain and fury echoed through Tartarus. Percy felt a surge of confidence, he hadn’t had a good fight in years. No offense to the geriatric man he was fighting, but Percy could kill him in his sleep even after cauterizing his own flesh. 

In one second, something changed in the man, a realization flooding through him. Maybe he realized he would never win by pure skill…Percy would never now, until it was too late.

 He smiled brightly, and it made the hair on Percy's arms stand up.  Percy didn’t like that. He really didn't like when creepy bad guys smiled at him menacingly. 

The man charged at him, only this time, he wasn’t aiming towards his side…Percy realized too late his mistake. 

The man, taking him by surprise, hacked at Percy’s backpack, slicing the straps, so that it slipped off of him. Percy tried to grab it before it fell to the ground, but the man was already three steps ahead of him. Before Percy could even think of touching it, Tantalus already had it in his hands, scooping it up and walking away.

“Don’t touch that!” Percy yelled. “Give it fucking back!”

“Why should I?” Tantalus asked. “It’s just a backpack. There can’t be anything important in there. Only food and water to help you get through Tartarus. If I don’t kill you, the elements will.”

The men began to rifle through the bag until he looked up at Percy in shock, a smile forming on his face .“Oh, Kronos will reward me well for giving this to him.”

Percy smiled at him. “Maybe, but not before I tear you apart.”

The man shook his head, stuffing the bolt into his pockets. Percy didn’t even know Ghosts could hold things. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’m giving you one more chance,” Percy said. “Give it back.”

The man shook his head, and patted his pockets. “I think this is safer with me. Don’t you think so?”

Percy felt the clenching up his stomach - anger burning through him as he knew what he had to do. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He reached his hand out, clenching it into a fist. An ocean roared in his mind, taking away any thought except the one at the front of his mind. He had to get the bolt back…he had to.

“What?” Tantalus said. He tried to move but he couldn’t - his legs frozen into place under Percy’s control.

“Give it back before I make you,” Percy said. 

Tantalus spat at Percy’s feet. “Like hell I will. You are a child. A literal child.”

Percy tightened his fist, and the man fell to the ground heaving. The sound of the man's legs snapping like twigs was loud enough for them to hear all the way at camp.  

“Percy, please don’t ever …” Her voice broke in a sob. “Some things aren’t meant to be controlled. Please.” 

How many times was he going to break his promise to Annabeth?

His whole body tingled with power, regret pulsing through him, but he ignored it. “You know,” Percy said, speaking slowly so even Tantalus could understand. “The body is made up of 70 percent water. Being a son of Poseidon it would be easy for me to - oh, I don’t know - bring your blood to a boil.”

“Stop …” a woman pleaded, her voice hoarse.

“Fuck you,” the man spat. Why couldn’t he just give up? Why was he forcing him to do this?

Percy squeezed his hand into a fist, and the man let out a gut-wrenching scream, coming from the very depths of his soul. 

“Give. Me. The. Bolt.”

“Percy, please …”

Still, Tantalus refused to move. The grip on the bag was so tight, his hands were growing white. 

He stood, his anger growing hotter in his gut. Some part of him didn’t want to stop…

He tightened his control on the man, willing every last drop of water to boil within him. He let out a scream so desperate and raw even Gaea would have been able to hear him.

“The.Bolt.”

The man practically threw the bolt and his backpack at Percy, like he couldn’t wait to be rid of it. 

Percy picked it up gingerly, putting the bolt back in his bag, and then swinging it over his shoulder. All the while, his eyes never once left the man.

“Let me go,” the man yelled. He was practically hyperventilating now, holding on to his chest like he was having a heart attack. Blood was pooling out of his mouth in bubbles and he spat it out. When it landed on the ground, it sizzled until there was nothing left of it.  “Let me go.”

Some part of Percy wanted to hold the man there until he boiled his blood for so long that there was nothing left. He wanted the man to be nothing more than a pile of dust and bones.

But then he heard it. The voice of Annabeth whispering in his head, telling him how wrong this was. How monstrous it would make him, if he killed the man this way. 

“Percy, please don’t ever …” Her voice broke in a sob. “Some things aren’t meant to be controlled. Please.” 

Reluctantly, Percy let go of his control of the man, and he fell down to the ground. All at once, the man threw up everything that was in his stomach. 

“Who are you?” he asked, looking up at Percy with wide eyes. 

Percy felt himself smile for the first time in a long while. “My name is Perseus Jackson,” He knelt down, so he was at eye level with the man. “I’m the son of Poseidon, a Praetor of Rome. Slayer of Polybotes the Giant. I have held up the sky, traveled through the labyrinth and the sea of monsters. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Like a complete idiot, the man snapped, his hands moving forward, like he was going to strangle him. Wasting no time, Percy swung Riptide. The metal rang through Tartarus. The impact sent a shockwave through his arm, and he felt the blade sink deep into his flesh. 

The head went rolling, burning up as it hit the ground. He was dead. 

For a second Percy could only stare at the head as he gasped for air. His sword fell to the ground, clanging so loudly even the gods on Olympus would be able to hear it.  He had almost…he had almost lost control - boiled the man until there was nothing left. What the hell was wrong with him?

Percy had to get out of Tartarus and fast, or the next time…he might not stop. 

Part of him liked the feeling of power that overcame him – the absolute control he had when he brought the man to his knees. Percy had no qualms killing people, he had done it thousands of times in his short life, and he would probably do it a thousand more before he died. But…killing for the joy of it? The thrill? That wasn’t him. That wasn’t right. 

He crumpled to the ground - the exhaustion and disbelief in what he had done hitting him all at once. For the first time, he was thankful Annabeth wasn’t there. She would be so ashamed of what he had done and the person he was becoming. 

Did anything matter if he lost himself, trying to destroy the very thing he was becoming? Maybe, Kronos was right. Maybe they weren’t so different after all. 

Percy shook his head. He’d have to defeat Kronos before it ever came to that. He forced himself off of the ground, gritting his teeth.

It was a three-day journey to where Kronos was. He had three days to heal himself completely and find the titan who had destroyed his life. 

Percy wasn’t the same boy he had been when he fought Kronos in the throne room of Olympus. When he was sixteen, he didn’t stand a chance against the man…but maybe now he could.

Afterall, Percy had faced Gaea, and the Giants. He had survived Rome and became Praetor after only a few months. 

He could do this…He hoped. 

Chapter Text

The one thing you never think about when you fall into hell is bringing comfortable walking shoes. Percy’s chuck Taylors were held together with nothing more than duct tape, floss, a dream, and his own audacity. He really needed to invest in a pair of fireproof doc martens considering all the time his shoes ended up on fire.

The dark earth crunched beneath Percy’s shoes. That and the sound of his breathing was the only thing he heard for a whole day, and it was starting to drive him crazy. 

It had gotten so bad, he started singing Taylor Swift songs in his head as he walked, if only to make the journey go a little bit faster. It would have been nice if Ares was considerate enough to drop an IPod into the bag. But, hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

His body still hurt like he’d been run over by a car (he knew the feeling all too well) but he could feel the strength returning to him. With every step, it felt hot knives were puncturing through his gut, all the way through his spine. Thankfully, the ambrosia and his not so wonderful cauterization had all but healed his injuries. The injuries had left large angry red scars from his chest all the way down to his hip. Despite the healing, he  still wasn’t sure if he would be strong enough to fight Kronos. 

…He’d have to be.

He had filled up a bottle of water in the delta of despair which luckily hadn't burned his insides out or made him forget everything about his life…again. When the water Ares had left eventually ran out, it would be a life saver. The only food he had was some protein bars, a snack size bag of goldfish, and some not so Swedish— Swedish fish. 

He’d have to make it last. 

Tartarus was dark, the very embodiment of darkness. The only light in the pitch black was the celestial glow of riptide. In all honesty, it was a terrible flashlight, but it helped him not trip over his own feet. He had to be careful not to trip over any ragged outcroppings of rocks. Several times, a large piece of rubble seemed to mysteriously appear out of nowhere, sending Percy flying to the ground. 

He wasn’t sure how long he walked, but he followed the river Styx north for hours. In the distance he could hear the screams of monsters - hear their deadly roars. Every time he heard scream, he flinched involuntarily - his sword brandishing out towards the sound. Usually, it ended up being an otherworldly tumble weed, or a easily killable rogue monster he could defeat in seconds. 

He wondered if Dameson or Bob was around here somewhere. He knew fate wouldn’t let him see the two again, but some part of him wondered how they both were doing. He wouldn't mind running into either of them. He hoped they were doing better than he was. But then again, Bob was probably still a dangerous giant since he hadn't fallen in the Lethe.

His mind whirled- a cacophony of anxiety of the unknown future. What if he didn’t make it out of Tartarus? What if he died here all alone away from the ocean that gave him life– away from his friends that made everything worth living? 

What would happen to him? Would anyone really care if he died in Tartarus? He was like a tree falling in a forest with no one around for miles. If he died, and no one was there, would they care at all?

Percy's ears burned, in the distance he could hear something. He wasn’t sure what. A twig snapping pulled him out of his thoughts. It was loud - like bones snapping. He couldn’t imagine that some small squirrel could make a sound like that…Did Tartarus have squirrels? Were there rabid demon squirrels running around the place somewhere?

He kept walking, albeit faster this time. His ears burned and every part of his body was wrought with tension - ready to strike at a moment's notice if he needed to. 

Behind him, the snapping twigs turned into the sounds of footsteps rapidly approaching him. He turned around, half expecting to see some random monster he had fought in the past, but there was no one there. But, the sound continued to grow louder and louder until Percy could tell that it wasn’t one set of people walking, but multiple. 

Percy ducked behind a rock, hoping that the monsters hadn’t seen him. As much fun as it would be to go in swords swinging - he had no idea what he was up against, and he needed to save what little strength he had. 

For a few minutes his heart didn’t beat and he didn’t breathe–too afraid that any sound would alert the monsters to his hiding place. 

“Do you smell that? A half-blood,” the monster said, sniffing the air. Its voice was thick and raspy, almost like someone had taken a cheese grater to its vocal cords. “And a powerful one.”

Percy could hear his chest beating so rapidly, he thought it might burst out of his chest. Don’t look over here. Don’t look…Don’t look. 

“Can we stop and eat them?” he heard another creature ask. This monster sounded quite a bit like an annoying middle schooler asking his mom to stop at Mcdonalds. 

“No,” the other voice said. “We don’t have time to stop.”

“But, mom–”

“No, buts,” the mother hissed. “We don’t want to disappoint Lord Kronos. We can’t miss the deadline.”

“But mom! I’m hungry!” the young voice yelled again, and Percy rolled his eyes. “You promised!” Percy really hoped he hadn’t talked to his mom like that when he was a child.

“Keep whining, and You’ll go to bed without dinner! Then you’ll be hungry.” Gods, it looked like even monsters had trouble with annoying middle schoolers. 

“Mom!” the annoying monster yelled again. “When are we going to find another half blood? They’re never down here.”

The mother audibly groaned. “Where we are going there will be plenty of half bloods for you to eat. Half Bloods of all kinds! We don’t need to catch some weaklings who're probably halfway to being dead anyways.”

“Okay…” the child said, and Percy could hear the disappointment in his voice. “You promise?”

The voices grew quieter as they traveled away from him, and Percy let himself breathe. 

He didn’t like the sound of that. The monsters had to be somewhere? When large groups of monsters usually congregated it only meant one thing, they were planning an attack. But, they couldn’t be, it was too soon. They hadn’t attacked camp half blood in the past until his fourth year. What had Percy done to change it so dramatically?

He waited for the sounds of their crunching feet to disappear before he left the safety of his hiding spot. Gods, that was close. Percy knew he would have been able to take care of the group of monsters easily, but it would have taken too much time that he didn’t have. He took a few deep breaths trying to calm and center himself. He knew these wouldn’t be the last monsters he would run into.

For the few hours after they left, Percy walked with anxiety flooding through his body. Every sound was enough to have him slicing at the air with riptide. He made quick progress. It was surprisingly easier to traverse the depths by himself. Last time, he had been down there, Annabeth had been injured, and they had been so exhausted it had taken them ages to get anywhere.

Percy pushed himself to a faster pace. He knew time was strange in Tartarus. A few hours felt like days, and days felt like hours. He was sure it didn’t help that the literal titan of time was probably making time feel strange just to mess with his head. 

After a few more hours of walking, Percy set up camp for himself against a rotted tree next to a ruin of what looked like an old villa. There were still mosaics on the walls—the aged paint, chipping from the cement walls. He saw images of Hercules, his name sake Perseus, and Achilles. He couldn’t help but wonder how an entire ancient building ended up in Tartarus. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if the heroes that came before him ever felt so alone. Sometimes Percy just wanted to give up, but then he remembered his friends and it helped him walk forward. Did Theseus or Hercules ever feel that way?

The moment his body touched the ground, and his back touched the tree, his muscles melted. He took off his shoes, which looked more like charcoal than anything now. He retaped them with what was left of the small roll of duct tape he had and laced them back up. 

Percy allowed himself to take one sip of the precious water from the bag. He savored the  icy liquid as it passed over his tongue .He wanted to drink more, but he couldn’t be sure how long he would be trapped there. He took a few bites of a chalky protein bar. It tasted like sand in his mouth but it was better than nothing. 

He let his head fall against the back of the rotted tree, and closed his eyes for a moment. He hadn’t been intending to fall asleep, but the moment he closed his eyes, the exhaustion of the day lulled him into rest. 

One thing he had forgotten about Tartarus were the dreams. He’d always had bad dreams – it was just the baggage that came with being a demigod. But, in Tartarus they were always worse. His deepest fears, his worst memories seemed to seep into his nightmares when he was asleep and awake. 

Of course, this time wouldn’t be any different.

Camp Half-Blood was on fire. 

It felt so real that Percy could feel the flames licking his skin – feel the hot air and smell the acrid smoke burning his lungs. For a moment, he could only stand and stare at the pandemonium all around him.

 Campers were running around with buckets of water, trying to no avail to stop the growing fires. He could hear screams all around him, both from injured monsters and campers. The lake was on fire, and he saw naiads crawling out only to be killed by waiting monsters. 

Was this a dream? Or was it a prophecy of what was to come?

 He spotted a group of demigods hiding behind an overturned table, their faces streaked with soot and tears. He recognized some of them. There was Katie Gardner, Michael Yew, Will Solace and a girl he didn’t recognize. She was covered in so much dirt and blood, her own mother probably wouldn't recognize her. But there was something about her...something so familiar that he couldn't put his finger on.

The young girl he didn’t recognize was bleeding from her leg. There was a tourniquet made out of number 2 pencils and shoelaces wrapped around her upper thigh, but it wasn’t helping much. Will Solace was frantically and confidently, working on the leg. If the boy could will the blood back into her by thought alone, he knew he would do it. But It looked like something had taken its claws and torn her leg to shreds. Michael and Katie, much to their credit, were calm nodding to the young girl that everything would be alright.

"It's going to be alright," he heard Will say as he shoved a chunk of ambrosia in her mouth. "You’re gonna have a cool scar to show everyone one day. It's super badass.”

The girl smiled grimly; her face laced with pain. right. "You think so?" 

Will smiled, and it was like sunshine was bursting from within him. "Yeah, all the guys and girls are going to be after you. It looks super-hot."

“Michael!” he yelled, but the boy didn’t acknowledge him. Right , this was a dream. “Katie!” He tried again, only to be met with silence. “Will!”

The group of campers suddenly looked up over the table, and they looked  more terrified than he had ever seen them. He followed their eyes, and could only watch in abject horror at the dragon stomping towards them.

The beast was huge –unlike anything Percy had ever seen in his entire life. It was all muscle, covered in obsidian black scales, that seemed to reflect only death. Its claws were large, almost as big as Percy’s entire arm, and so razor sharp. As it stalked towards the group of demigods, the earth shook so much that he was afraid it might open up and swallow them all. 

As he neared the dragon, Percy could feel its hot breath washing over him. The beast turned its head, revealing a massive scaled snout with glowing yellow eyes. It opened its jaws, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth and a forked tongue the size of a small tree.

In shock, he watched as Katie Gardner planted a kiss on Michael’s cheek, and escaped the safety of their hiding place. Michael tried to pull her back, but she pulled her hand from his grip and charged out into danger. 

“Katie!” Michael screamed so deep and guttural that Percy’s heart broke. "No!"

Will was staring in abject horror, but his hands kept moving over the girl's injury. “No, Katie!”

The dragon noticed her immediately, and it unhinged its jaw to rain down fire on the poor girl. Katie must have expected it. She picked up a fallen spear that a monster must have dropped and with all of the strength she could muster, she threw the Javelin right into the dragon's mouth, but not before it rained fire down on her. 

“No!” he screamed as he was forced to watch one of his friends go up in smoke- a deadly scream coming from her as she was devoured by the flames. 

The dragon was dead…but so was Katie. 

He could hear Michaels screams, and sobs. But the boy shoved back his emotions as a wall of monsters replaced the dragon.

Michael steeled himself, running from his hiding place, releasing arrow after arrow so quickly, that the arrows were a blur as they implanted themselves in the monsters. He stabbed with some arrows, threw them like throwing knives, used his bow as a sword – anything to stop the growing hoards. Will likewise, stood up, fending off any monster who got too close to the injured girl. The girl could only sit there and watch, but she clutched a small knife in her hand – her knuckles white from how tight she held it. 

But, no matter how many Michael killed, more seemed to take their place. Percy couldn’t watch this…he couldn’t watch as his friends died. An arrow implanted itself into Michael's calf, he let out a small scream but kept on fighting. Percy could see his jeans turn dark, blood flowing out. Michael’s jaw tightened, and he snapped the long part of the arrow, and kept moving.

Just when he thought Michael would be overwhelmed, he saw a streak of blood hair, rushing through the monsters, hacking at them left and right. 

He froze…It was Annabeth. She held a small sword in one hand, and her knife in the other. The deadly weapons flashed in the firelight, creating a glow around her body. He wanted to help her, to save her, but he couldn't move. His legs were glued to the ground and he could only watch her fight completely useless.

“Annabeth!” he screamed, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

The girl looked wild. Her hair was sticking up in every direction, parts of her hair burnt from the fires. She was covered in ash like she had just run out of a burning building. And her eyes…they were so wild like a growing storm. Percy hadn’t seen her look like that since the battle of Manhattan. 

She and Michael fought in perfect tandem, like they had done this thousands of times together. He wasn’t sure how that made him feel.

But, he knew this was the Annabeth of his past, not his future. She had no gray streak in her hair, no familiar scars she had gained during the battle of Manhattan. But, she was older, maybe eighteen? Nineteen? He couldn’t be sure. Was this a vision or was it happening in real time? Because…they both looked so much older. He hadn’t been in Tartarus that long, had he?

The monsters kept coming, and Percy could see the girl's strength slowly leaving her body. She wouldn’t last much longer if she didn’t get help… Michael likewise was beginning to slow down, but he kept on shooting, covering Annabeth as she weaved between the monsters. 

Annabeth turned around, her eyes growing wide, and for a moment he thought she could see him. He wanted to smile at her, and help her, but he still couldn’t move. 

The girl stared at him in shock for a moment, like she really couldn’t believe he was there. “Luke?”

Percy turned around to see Luke standing there, his clothes singed and hair a mess. “Annabeth,” he said almost reverently, and he smiled gently at her.

He plowed into the hoard of monsters, cutting them down left and right, like a demon straight out of hell. The boy rolled under monsters, hacking at their legs. He lunged, stabbed, and swung, with skill and confidence he would have admired if it wasn’t Luke fucking Castellan. It was incredible to watch, but also terrifying. 

Both Annabeth and Michael’s energy was seemingly renewed with the reinforcements, and they tore into the monsters around them relentlessly until the hoard of monsters surrounding them began to drop like flies. It was amazing to watch the three of them kill monster after monster like it was nothing. They were perfectly in sync –an impressive showcase of skill and teamwork. 

Eventually, the monsters that had once surrounded them began to flee, leaving the three disheveled half-bloods by themselves to stare at the destruction of the camp. Annabeth fell to her knees, her breathing so ragged, he was almost afraid her lungs would stop working. 

The camp was in ruins. There were bodies of monsters everywhere and thankfully only one dead camper…Katie Gardner…

Gods, not Katie…She had always been a constant at camp. She’d been a survivor of the Battle of the Labyrinth, and of the battle of Manhattan. And now? She was gone in the blink of an eye.

Michael fell to his knees, a sob bursting from him. Annabeth crouched to his level, wrapping and arm around him, and pulling him close. Will ran to the small girl who was looking deathly pale but was thankfully still breathing. 

“It's okay,” he said, in hushed whispers. “It’s okay.” The girl nodded at him and clutched his hand in a death grip. 

Luke let out a scream, kicking the decapitated head of a monster. It went flying through the air, landing on top of a cabin. The boy's eyes were wide, and he looked moments away from having a mental breakdown. Percy didn’t blame him. 

 “We have to make a shroud,” Michael said through broken sobs. “We have to—we have— “

 “I know,” Annabeth said, and pulled the broken boy closer to her. “She’ll get one.”

“Annabeth,” Luke said, not without sympathy. “We need to make sure everyone is okay.”  Annabeth nodded and helped pull Michael up from the ground. Michael, leaned on Annabeth for support, his breath coming out choppy and uneven. Sweat soaked his shirt, and he looked moments away from passing out. 

“Luke, can you help me?” Will asked. He had put the girl onto a stretcher and had somehow managed to stop the bleeding. "She needs to get to the big house."

Luke nodded and helped Will pick up the stretcher. 

“It's going to be okay, Piper,” Luke told the poor girl. "You’ll be okay.”

Piper? It wasn’t possible. She wasn’t supposed to be there? She was supposed to be off at the wilderness school, wasn’t she? The more Percy looked the more he realized it was the girl he had known. Her hair was dyed blonde, and she was covered in so much ash that it was hard to see her features, but it was her. 

All at once, Luke froze, the boy's body so still that it was like he was suddenly turned to stone by Medusa. “Percy?” he heard Luke say.

The boy was staring at him, like he had seen a ghost. His face was a deadly sheet of white, his eyes sparkling like he was about to cry.  Could he really see him? The tension between the two was thick, it swirled around them, and not even the sharpest knife would be able to cut through it. 

Annabeth’s head snapped up, but she looked right through him. “Luke?” Annabeth asked. “What are you looking at?”

“You don’t, see?” Luke's eyes never left Percy’s, and he could swear he could see guilt paint his face. 

Annabeth shook her head, vehemently. “There is nothing there Luke.”

Percy looked behind him, and sure enough there was no one there. Luke was looking directly at him. But how? “I’m here, Luke,” he said, and he couldn’t contain the spite and fury that spilled into his words. This man…he had dropped him into literal hell “I’m coming back.”

The boy continued to stare at him, like he was going completely crazy. The boy swallowed air, and his breathing completely stopped.  “I’m going to kill you,” Percy said, and he meant it. “When I come back, I’m going to kill you.”

The boy nodded slowly at him, and Percy knew he understood. 

“Luke,” he heard Annabeth’s voice say. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t remember,” Luke said, his eyes never once leaving Percy.  “Remember the incident with the police officer?” Annabeth was looking at him like he had completely lost his mind, but he kept talking. “I can’t control it. I’m…I’m scared.”

“Luke,” Will snapped, pulling the boy out of her reverie. “We have to get Piper help. Are you okay?"

Percy frowned at him. Could he really not remember anything? What the hell did that mean? Did he mean he didn’t remember letting Percy go?

All at once, Lukes demeaner changed, it was like something sinister had completely overtaken him. His face turned darker; every muscle flooded with tension. His back went straighter, his jaw and hands tightening. And he swore for a moment, his eyes flashed with gold.

That wasn’t…That wasn’t possible. Percy felt fear he likes of which he had never felt before. If Luke was already processed by Kronos, what did that mean for camp? Would they lose the war, before it even started. 

Luke smiled at him, but there was nothing warm in it. He winked and Percy, before turning around to help Will with Piper. 

Oh no, they were fucked.

Chapter Text

Waking up from a nightmare in Tartarus, is like waking up and discovering someone stole your kidney in the middle of the night. For a few minutes, you don’t know where you are, your entire body hurts, and you're surprised you aren’t dead. Then you come to the crushing reality that you're in Tartarus. Or for others more fortunate you wake up without a kidney. 

All at once, Percy was ripped from the dream thankfully with his kidney intact. He woke up in the ruins where he had fallen asleep. His heart was racing and his limbs tingling with the memory of the nightmare that had just faded away. What the hell had that been?

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts, but it did little to calm the churning in his stomach. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, like he couldn't catch his breath. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. 

Kronos…

Breathe in…

Breathe in…

Percy could feel himself panicking – the overwhelming feeling of fear threatened to take over everything. Kronos was controlling Luke…Katie Gardner was dead…Piper was dying and Leo and Jason were nowhere to be seen. But, he shook his head and calmed himself. All of those things were out of his control. What he could control right now was himself. He could walk forward and keep moving so that he could help his friends. 

But, Deep down, Percy knew that it wasn’t just a nightmare–it had actually happened, or was going to happen. So much for traveling back in time and fixing things. He was just making everything worse. How many other people had died, because he thought he could redeem Luke?

 He grabbed what little belongings he had, and before his brain could overthink everything (like it usually did.) he started walking. At the moment, it was all he was able to do. He wasn’t far from where Kronos was supposedly waiting for him. Just a day away and then a day away from the exit. He could do this…he had to do this. So…Percy kept walking, feeling strangely like he was a member of the fellowship in Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings. What he would do for some company at the moment. 

What Percy found the oddest part of Tartarus, was that he was getting stronger. When he woke up, there was an odd energy in him – his muscles felt stronger, not anything like the weak arms of the twelve year old body he was in. His hair was also growing quickly–so quickly that it was already touching his shoulders. It was like time was moving quicker and Percy himself was also quickly aging. He was sure Kronos was responsible for this latest development. 

It filled him with fear he couldn’t explain. What if he was down here for so long that he died from old age?

Percy continued to follow the path along the River Styx and was amazed by the ruins he walked through. There was a sprawling structure that looked reminiscent of the Parthenon, only it was in much worse shape. The ancient stones were twisted and broken, crumbling beneath the weight of time and neglect. A haze of dust hung in the air, coating everything it touched with a fine layer of grit. The once-majestic columns lay scattered about like pick-up sticks, their carved surfaces scratched and weathered beyond recognition. Even the statues that still stood seemed to slump wearily, as if they, too, were exhausted from bearing witness to the passage of countless centuries.

Despite how creepy it all looked, Annabeth would have loved it. 

As he wandered deeper into the labyrinthine ruins, Percy noticed a peculiar change in the air. The cool morning breeze grew heavier, denser, and almost oppressive. At first, he thought nothing of it, but as he continued on, he began to detect a subtle, unsettling scent. It was a mixture of earth, smoke, and something else, something ancient and primeval. The fog that had been hovering just above the ground now began to rise, swirling around his ankles like a living thing. It seemed to be reaching out from the ground in smokey tendrils, threatening to pull anyone down through its depths who dared to walk through it. 

The air seemed to grow colder and he felt as if someone was pulling every ounce of warmth out of his body all at once. It was the type of chill that seeped into your bones, and left your body and soul exhausted. 

Percy didn’t like this…not one bit. When there was creepy fog, other things usually followed. 

Of course, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he saw the smokey outline of someone creeping through the white smoke, its massive silhouette looming in the distance. It moved with a sinister grace, its steps silent and purposeful. Whatever it was, it was huge, towering over the ruins like a colossus. Percy's heart raced as he watched it draw nearer, the hazy outline of its form becoming clearer with each passing moment.

“Who are you?” Percy asked. Being in Tartarus was a lot like the world's worst game of speed dating. Every couple of miles he would have to face some new monster he hadn’t seen before and learn how to quickly destroy them. There wasn’t any time for talking - just slashing and hacking. 

When he could, he would hide in order to save his energy, but oftentimes, he would be forced to fight the odd ghost or random monster. Quite frankly, all it did was annoy him and make him lose valuable time. 

Unfortunately, this monster had seen him before Percy could go around him. He felt like he was playing Breath of the Wild, and a Lynel had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, forcing Percy to fight it. 

The monster was unlike anything he had ever seen (and Percy had seen a lot of weird things in his life.) If you’ve ever seen a Redead from the Legend of Zelda, you’ll have a pretty good idea of what it looks like. It was somewhere between a zombie and a mummy. 

Its flesh was rotting, hanging off its bones. Percy could see its translucent bones through what little flesh was on its body. 

“What are you supposed to be?” Percy asked the creature. .

The monster gaped at Percy, continuing to trudge along the uneven path. 

 “FOOOD!” it yelled, sounding oddly like Grover on enchilada day…or any day really. “FOOOOOD.”

“I mean, same,” Percy said, but he had a feeling he was supposed to be the food.

“EAT FLESH!

Yup it was definitely going to try and eat Percy. Just what he needed on this fine morning in Tartarus. 

“NEED FLESH!”

Man, this thing really knew how to complain. He rolled his eyes. “No thank you, boomer. I quite like not being food.”

The monster froze, looking at Percy with wild eyes that looked like they might pop out at any second. “What is this boomer you refer to me as?” The monster asked with surprising clarity. But then again, Percy was so hungry that he didn’t blame the thing for yelling out for a meal.

“A boomer is…” How on earth was he supposed to explain what a boomer was to a monster who probably ate boomers for breakfast?

Percy ignored the question of the monster. “What are you?”

“I am a Eurynomos,” the creature said. “Do you know where I can find some food? I need FOOOOOD!”

Wait a minute, and hold the phone…Wasn’t Eurynomos the creature Apollo had fought in the underworld that wanted to eat decaying flesh from dead bodies? Percy had been told the story one night at camp, and he had been so sickened by the idea of it eating rotten flesh that he hadn’t finished his blue marshmallow smore. 

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, cringing. “I don’t know where any food is. But, you might want to try down the river? I saw some monsters going somewhere important. You might want to ask them?”

Eurynomos smiled at him, showing rotten teeth –aged and yellow beyond all belief. “Thank you. I will ask them.”

“I gotta know,” Percy said, honestly just for the fun of it. “You have a great skin care routine. You need to tell me your secrets.”

“Oh,” the creature said, and brushed its gnarled hair behind its rotting ear. “An ounce of human flesh does wonderful things for the moisture barrier.”

“Really?” Percy said, tightening his hold on Riptide at his side.  “I had no idea.”

“The younger the flesh the better,” he said. 

Percy felt the urge to tiptoe away. Yes, he was nineteen, but he looked twelve. He really did not want to be eaten. 

“You don’t have to worry,” the monster said, noticing him slinking away. “You're too old for me. You have too much muscle.”

Percy raised an eyebrow and wasn’t sure why he was suddenly offended. “I’m twelve.”

“Really?” the monster asked, raising an eyebrow. “I would have thought seventeen. You look much older.”

Percy had never been told he looked too old – he always thought he was rather short and skinny for his age. Maybe…maybe something was happening to him. He had noticed the speed of his hair growing and the muscle he gained. But, he couldn’t have been aging rapidly. He had only been in Tartarus for a few days–at least he hoped it was only a few days 

Percy changed the subject quickly. “You speak well. I thought your kind were supposed to just scream for food.”

“You’ve met my brothers before?” it asked. “I am the most well spoken out of all of them. The others never took their education seriously.”

“Oh?” he said. “We all have siblings we are ashamed of…I guess.”

“I like you,” the monster said, confusing Percy. He’d never met a monster that really liked him besides Mrs. O’Leary. “I think I’ll let you live.”

“That's very kind of you,” Percy said. “Thank you for not killing me,”

The monster nodded slowly, continuing on his walk through the ruins. Maybe the thing had just been on a morning stroll through the fog like a regency woman in a too tight corset. Percy was jealous, he never had time for relaxing walks. 

“Be safe, Mr. Boomer,” the monster said. “There are dangerous things on the road. Far more dangerous than even me. They won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Percy said, waving to the monster as it left. It was oddly comforting that he didn’t have to kill the monster, and very weird. 

Percy kept on walking, and tightened his grip on his sword, more confused than he had been when he woke up (which was saying a lot.) He’d never expected to become on good talking terms with a monster that lived off of the flesh of Twelve-Year old Corpses.

Percy followed the ruins, admiring the half formed mosaics and columns,  He walked through what looked like a town square. There was a large fountain that flowed with blood, cobblestone streets even the Romans would be jealous of. 

A few monsters peaked their heads out of windows, looking at Percy. But, when they saw him, they ducked back in, and firmly shut what little curtains they had. Perhaps, these ruins were some type of safe haven for monsters in Tartarus who just wanted to live a normal life?

Eventually the ruins became sparser and sparser, until he didn’t see a single one. He missed the ruins, there had been a sense of odd beauty in their spires. 

He stopped to rest at a small tree. He ate some goldfish, and risked a piece of ambrosia to finish healing his injuries. He was amazed they had healed so quickly.

He pulled off his shoes again and retaped them. Only this time, when he took them off he couldn’t ignore the red blisters across his feet, red and oozing with blood and other things. They felt hot and itchy –pulsing with pain. 

He took a clean part of the shirt that was left in the bag, and coated it in some nectar. Gently, he moved the cloth across his injuries and hoped for the best. 

He put his shoes on back quickly, not willing to waste any more time or run into some weird monster in the ancient ruins. 

Although Percy had seen his fair share of monsters in Tartarus, it unnerved him how much easier it was this time. Last time, they could barely make it three feet before he ran into another monster or titan. This time, it was almost too easy. And what monsters he did see, strangely enough left him alone.  It was like Kronos wanted him to find him. 

He grabbed his things, and winced when he started walking again. The pain in his feet were getting worse – throbbing and pulsing – but he kept putting one foot in front of the other, clenching his teeth.  

Walking alone he realized was never a good idea, because when Percy didn’t have someone to annoy with all of his stupid commentary, he got lost in his memories. 

He thought of the girl he had seen in his dream that was similar to the Annabeth he had known and yet so different. She fought like a beast – like a goddess. What had happened in all that time to make her so comfortable in war?

His Annabeth had been comfortable of course, but only after the battle of Manhattan. But, this girl looked like she had been holding off monsters from entering camp for years. And Luke…he hated how comfortable and at ease she looked with Luke. Luke who had dropped him into Tartarus…Luke who was being controlled by Kronos.

That was something he didn’t understand. In the past, it had only been after Luke bathed in the Styx that he was able to host the titan. What had changed? 

He assumed Luke must have already poisoned Thalia's tree because the protective barrier was clearly down. Did that mean there hadn’t been a quest to get the golden fleece? But if there had been and they had failed wouldn’t that have meant that Kronos rose already because of the healing properties of the fleece?

Also why was Piper at camp? She had only arrived at camp after Percy had been kidnapped by Hera and had his memory wiped. Did that mean Leo and Jason where also at camp? Percy didn't even want to think what that would mean if Jason was already at camp. 

Gods, his head hurt just thinking about everything. There was so much that didn’t make sense to him anymore. Everything was so different, and he didn't know why. 

Percy had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the clearing he entered. Before him, a wheat field stretched out, swaying gently in the unnatural breeze, its stalks rotten and blackened from the endless ashfall. He took a deep breath, the acrid taste of ash and decay filling his lungs, and began to walk through the dying field, feeling brittle stalks crack beneath his feet with each labored step. 

Dark clouds, thick and ominous as bruised flesh, hung low in the sky, their bellies swollen with ash that rained down relentlessly, burning his eyes and coating his skin in a fine, gritty film. 

Percy kept walking. The field felt like someone was holding their breath, waiting for something–anything to happen. His eyes wandered all around in search of the titan he knew was imprisoned somewhere near here. 

A part of him was expecting to see the Titan comically chained to the ground like Thanatos had been in Alaska. He expected a prison, dark and bleak, stealing all the happiness from the air. Sort of like the DMV. He didn’t expect nothing.

All at once, there was a popping in his ear. It was that feeling when you're in an airplane and the pressure is pressing on your drums, feeling like you're underwater. Something told Percy, it was too late to turn back. The moment he entered the field it was like boss music was beginning to play, and he was trapped. The only easy way to leave was to win. 

“Perseus Jackson,” a voice said, and Percy froze where he was standing. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Chapter Text

Kronos always had a flair for the dramatics, but this was just ridiculous.  Percy couldn't see the Titan, but he could hear him. His voice echoed over the plains, seemingly coming from every direction. It was in the breeze, in the rotted trees, and in the grain he walked through. 

“Kronos,” Percy said. He scanned all around, looking for any sign of the titan, but there was nothing. Only, a blowing wind, a dark red sky, and the feeling that something was very very wrong. 

  “I wish I could say it’s a pleasure.” Percy clenched his hands at his sides. He really wished he had a blue plastic hairbrush to throw in that fucker's face. 

“Didn’t Chiron ever teach you that names have power?” his voice echoed. 

“It didn’t really stick,” Percy said. “And besides, I’ve never been very good at listening.”

The ground beneath him began to shake violently. It was as if a giant beast had taken hold of the earth and was shaking it in a fit of rage. The tremors grew stronger, more intense, rippling through the very fabric of reality. 

 Pieces of rock and debris flew all around him. Percy had to duck as several pieces went hurtling around him. One more second, and he’d have been hit by a flying boulder. More rocks joined, moving like they were one entity - one living breathing thing. They connected together, almost like the world's worst game of Tetris. Until, finally, they began into the shape of a man. 

Percy’s blood ran cold, when he saw Kronos in all his glory. 

He had seen the man in dreams and seen him using the body of Luke. But there was something so different–so terrifying about seeing him in the flesh. 

The man had an aura - a darkness that radiated off of him in waves. He could probably send armies running by just a glance, with a snap of his fingers he could destroy everything Percy held dear. The way he held himself felt familiar to when Percy saw him on the bridge during the battle of Manhattan.

He wasn’t completely formed– large chunks of him seemed to be missing. His right hand was gone and so was a part of his head. Where his left eye should have been was a black hole - absolute nothingness. But, oddly enough, the man had a beauty to him, a gold eye the color of new drachmas, dark hair as black as his soul, and a smile that held secrets. 

“I haven’t seen you in many years, not with my own eyes anyways,” he said. “You’ve shrunk.”

“You’re missing some parts,” Percy said. “Gotta say, it doesn’t look good on you.”

“You're still the same,” he said. “Can’t fucking shut up.”

Percy couldn't help but to take it as a compliment. “I’ve heard it’s one of my best qualities.”

“After all these years,” he said. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” 

Wait…There was something in the way he said it— A familiarity that shouldn’t have been possible. Then it hit him like a brick hitting Jason…He said he’d shrunk…He said he hadn’t seen him with his eyes…

“What?” Percy said. He wasn’t even sure if he really wanted to know the answer. 

“Oh,” the titan said. “I remember the first time I saw you. Really saw you. You were so afraid, so small and fragile when I rose from my coffin.”

“That's not—” Wait a fucking minute…He couldn’t mean…Percy eyebrows shot forward. “It's not possible. You can’t be–

“Are you scared, little demigod?” the titan asked. “You should be.”

Percy steeled himself. He may have been terrified, but he would never let Kronos know. Percy became a vault - all of his emotions locked behind a wall of steel and iron. 

“You came back, didn’t you?” Percy asked. “You came back in time? But we killed you.”

Kronos shook his head, laughing like Percy was the stupidest person who ever lived.  “You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you? All the pieces are right there, Perseus. You only have to look. You're so close to the truth, but so far away.”

What the flying fuck did the Titan mean by that? What pieces? What the hell was he talking about?

The titan laughed, really laughed - the type that came from the belly and was deep and full. “You really have no idea, do you? I never thought you were stupid, Perseus. Others have failed to kill you because they thought you were stupid—they underestimated you. But I never have. No ordinary boy — no stupid boy can fight the god of war and win. No ordinary boy ventures through the sea of monsters or holds up the sky. I’ve always known exactly who you are, and I’ve respected you for it. You're so blinded by your past that you can not see all the clues.”

Percy wasn’t sure how he felt about getting a compliment from the man. It unnerved him, sent something cold running through his blood. 

“Just stop with the games!” Percy exploded. “You came from the future, didn’t you? Somehow, I don’t know how, you followed me back. But that shouldn’t be possible, because I saw you die. I saw Luke plunge the knife into his side, killing you.”

Percy could feel himself breaking, because if Kronos really hadn’t died that day, had everything he’d ever done been for nothing? Had everyone died in vain? Silena, Charlie, Michael, Luke and so many more. Did their deaths really mean nothing? 

“No,” Percy shook his head, speaking to himself. “That’s not–”

“Possible?” Kronos said. “You're the son of the sea god. Who are you to say what is and isn’t possible. You yourself are an impossibility to people all over the world. Impossible is just a word made up by the uncreative. It's something we tell ourselves to make us feel better about our failures.”

“So, you did come back?” Percy said. “You followed me here?”

“From a certain point of view. I can’t tell you everything, it would ruin the fun of figuring it out for yourself.”

“When I get out of this place,” Percy said. “I’m going to make sure that your plans never work. I am going to kill you.”

The man laughed, “You’ll never get out. The moment you entered Tartarus I decided to play a little game. You must have noticed that time has been moving quickly? Have you even looked at yourself? You don’t look like the same 12 year old boy who fell down here.”

Percy was right, somehow Kronos was making time move faster down here? Just how long had it been since he fell? “How long?” Percy asked. 

The titan didn’t answer, he only continued to laugh.

“How long!” Percy screamed. 

‘“It's been seven years, Perseus. Your friends think you're dead. Your mother has mourned you and burnt your shroud. Everyone has moved on as if you never existed at all.”

Percy pointed his sword at the titan. He was done talking, he wanted to chop the thing up into pieces so Luke would never be able to put him back together. 

“I touched a nerve, didn’t I?” the Titan asked. “You’re angry—good.”

“I think it’s time to stop talking,” Percy said. “We both knew one day it was always going to end this way.’

There was a flash of light, and suddenly Kronos was holding the deadliest sword he had ever seen. Just like Backbiter, one part was made of steel, but the other was gleaming imperial gold that matched the color of his eyes. It was sharp but ragged at the edges, made for only one thing–pain. 

“Let's get this over with,” the titan said. “I have a war to plan. I’m sorry it has to end this way. We could have been a wonderful team in another world.”

Percy smiled, swinging Riptide back and forth testing the balance. 

The Titan of Time towered over him, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to destroy everything that stood in his way. The air crackled with tension, electricity dancing between them like a breathing living thing.

Percy half expected the titan to go in with his sword swinging, not waiting a second. But. Instead, he circled around him, studying him, searching for an opening. His eyes narrowed as he saw the way Percy's sword moved, the way he balanced himself on his feet.

The moment their sword connected; it was like time stopped. Maybe it did, Afterall, he was fighting the titan of time. But, in that moment, all that mattered was the battle. Percy ignored everything else– his nightmares, the people he left behind. He shoved it into the back of his mind and focused on one thing and one thing only Killing Kronos. 

Already, he could feel his muscles strain from the blunt force of Kronos’s strength. But, while the titan was all muscle and power, Percy was fast. 

He dodged the man's attacks easily, weaving around him, and stabbing where he could. He kept moving, his feet light and nimble as he danced around him. 

“You’re strong,” the titan taunted. “But not strong enough.”

‘I’m strong enough to kill you,” he said, and kicked the titan where the sun didn't shine. 

Much to the titan's credit, he didn’t react, he simply swung his sword so fiercely, that if Percy hadn’t ducked, he would have lost his head. 

This was the part of the battle, where Percy decided he should do what he did best –annoy those who were stronger than him. It was a skillset he had carefully crafted since before Percy could remember. He had focused everything down to an art so even the most patient of people would lose their minds before the end.

He toyed with Titan, slashing out without rhyme or reason. Just when there seemed to be a pattern to his attacks, Percy quickly changed it, lashing out without abandon. Clearly, he had annoyed the titan to his breaking point, because midwing, time slowed down, and Percy felt like he was walking through Jello. 

Cheater , he thought in his head. 

“You can’t beat me,” the titan said. “You know that don’t you? The only reason you’ve survived Tartarus was because I’ve been helping you. You should have died the moment you fell into the river. You should have died from your injuries. Did you ever wonder why no monsters attacked you? It's because I told them not to. I could squash you like a bug. I should have done it years ago, but you’ve always fascinated me.”

Percy tried to move his arms, but he was helpless. He snapped–his words flooding out of him like a damn had broken. “Spare me your threats. I have faced worse things than you and survived. I’ve killed Polybotes, Stopped Gaea from rising. I am a praetor of Rome. You don’t scare me, not anymore.”

Percy saw a crack in the titans impeccably crafted facade. For a moment, he saw a flash of fear cross the man's face. But, just as quickly it disappeared. 

Percy smiled, because although the man had foresight from the war, he still didn’t know anything that had happened after. He didn’t know about the seven, or Gaea, or the war. He didn’t know that Percy had fought at the doors of death and survived. He only remembered the sixteen-year-old boy who had been angry and uncertain and scared of a rapidly approaching prophecy.

“So be it,” he said. “You had such potential.”

Percy tried to move—he had forgotten how powerful the man's powers really were. Before Percy even knew what was happening, Kronos had taken his sword, and plunged it into his stomach. 

Percy had been stabbed before—he’d been flung off a building, clawed through by furies, and even surfed through a forest with two angry gorgons chasing him…But nothing had prepared him for this. 

The titan pulled the sword out cleanly, and Percy fell to the ground, his hands immediately flying to the bleeding wound. 

“It’s such a pity,” the Titan said. “Such a pity. I had high hopes.”

Percy was gasping out. It hurt to breathe or even blink. The titan kneeled to his level, and gently grasped Percy’s face in his hands. “You are going to die, Perseus, and no one will remember you. You are just another demigod killed before you time. A tragedy, really. You could have been the greatest hero of your time. You were, but now know one will ever know.”

He’d failed…after everything, he had failed. What was the point? What was the whole point in going back if it had been useless to stop anything from happening.

He could feel himself fading—blackness crept into his vision, and he couldn’t feel anything anymore. He couldn’t feel the wind on his face or the pain in his gut—only regrets. 

He forced his eyes to stay open, and held his hand to his stomach, but it did little to stop the relentless bleeding. He was going to die…

After everything, he was going to die. 

The last thing Percy saw before he closed his eyes was the wicked smile of the Titan of Time. 

The waters were calm and beautiful –almost like the tranquil waters at Ogygia. The sand was a pristine almost bleach white, and the sun was high in the air, warming his face and body. 

Percy wasn’t sure what had happened. One second, he was getting stabbed by a Titan and the next he was on a beach. He wasn’t one to complain. If anyone needed a vacation—he did. 

Was he dead? He had to be…it was the only explanation. 

He looked around the beach and saw a small dock to the side. He froze for a moment when he saw someone in the distance. A girl sat at the edge of the dock, her bare feet dangling into the blue water. 

“Annabeth?” he asked, tentatively. 

The girl snapped her head to him, and she smiled so large it was like he had hung the world for her. But what struck him the most– what made his mouth gape open, and his heart clench was the streak of white, and the familiar scars. 

It was his Annabeth. 

Percy must have been dead.

“Percy,” she said, and patted the edge of the dock. “Sit with me.”

Percy walked slowly- so slowly that Annabeth frowned at him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said. “It’s alright.”

Percy sat down on the dock, his eyes never leaving the girl. There was something about her…something.

“Is it really you?” he asked. He was petrified - terrified that if he even breathed wrong, she would disappear before his eyes. “How is this possible?”

His hand reached out, and when she didn’t protest, he cupped her cheek. Her skin felt warm under his hands, he could feel her breath on his cheek. She was close…so close that if he just leaned in they would be kissing. 

“Am I dead?” Percy said. “Again?”

Annabeth laughed, and it was the best sound he thought he had ever heard... “No, you aren’t.”

“Am I dreaming?”

She smiled at him, and that's all he had to know. Of course, he was dreaming, and what a great dream it was. 

“How?” he asked. “I thought…I thought I’d never see you again.” She frowned for a moment, leaning her face into his hands. The realization hit him so suddenly that he felt his heart breaking. “I’m never going to see you again, am I? This is it, isn’t it?”

“Your mind is having a hard time letting go. You never really got the chance to say goodbye.”

“I wish I didn’t have to,” he said, and felt his eyes begin to water. “Why do I have to say goodbye? Why can’t I stay? Why can’t I be in New Rome with you? I thought we’d have more time.”

Annabeth was silent for a moment, staring wistfully out on the calm pond. “We had our first kiss here, you know?”

Percy smiled. How could he ever forget it? That moment had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

“I have to go back, don’t I?” Percy asked. “It’s like in Harry Potter when Harry died and saw Dumbledore?

“You read?” Annabeth asked, vaguely impressed.

“I saw the movies,” she laughed and Percy wanted to sear it into his memories for the rest of time. 

“I’m not really here, Percy,” she said. “If you stayed…it wouldn’t be real. But you have the opportunity to find some happiness.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever be happy again,” he mused, skimming his feet in the water. “Everyone is gone. I’m all alone, surrounded by people I know but who don’t know me.”

Annabeth smiled sadly at him. “You’ll get to know them, and they will fall in love with you just like I did. You’ll make new friends, fall in love, live a long life.”

Percy shook his head. Why was she saying these things? “I could never love anyone but you.”

“Let me go,” she said. 

Percy’s mind flashed to her hanging over the edge of Tartarus. Didn’t she know that he would never let her go? He would follow her into hell. He’d done it before, and he would do it again without hesitating. 

“Percy,” she said. “Please, let us go.”

“I love you,” he said, the words feeling so painful on his lips. He knew they would be the last time he ever said them. 

“I love you,” she said. “This isn’t goodbye. I’ll see you in Elysium. But not now. Take your time, live your life, and be happy. Promise me?”

He nodded. He could never deny her anything. “Alright. But promise me you’ll be waiting for it.”

“How could you ever doubt it?”

Percy gently cupped her cheek, pulling her in close to him. He kissed her gently—her lips soft and pillowy. He wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life. He burned into his memories, sealing it in a vault that was only meant for him

His hand snaked around her waist, and he pulled her closer– so close that they were practically one. She smiled through the kisses, and Percy couldn’t help but to smile back. 

They parted too quickly, both breathing heavily. He knew it was a dream, but nothing had ever felt so real before. She rested her head on his shoulders, and he took in the scent of her—ink, lemon shampoo, sunshine, and sweat. 

“It’s time, Percy,” she said. “Remember, nothing is what you think it is.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I wish I could tell you,” she said. “I want to tell you everything—to shout it from the rooftops. But it's something you must discover on your own.”

“I don’t want this dream to end,” he said. “I want to stay with you.”

You looked up at him through thick blonde eyelashes. “Who said it was a dream?”

When Percy opened his eyes, it felt like he had been run over by a car. It took a few seconds for him to readjust his eyes to the light.

He saw the faded visage of Kronos standing there, most likely gloating in his victory. The missing pieces of his body had somehow rejoined him while he’d been unconscious, and it filled Percy with dread. 

He moved his hand to Riptide which had fallen to his side, the metal cold underneath his fingertips, and grabbed it firmly in his hand. He used it to pull himself up, ignoring the flood of pain moving throughout his body. 

The dirt and gravel crunched as he moved, and the Titans head snapped up in shock. “Hey bitch, I’m not done with you yet.”

The man's face would have been comical if Percy wasn’t in so much goddamned pain. “Impossible–”

“I thought you said that word was for the uncreative,” he snapped. He prayed to the gods - to every god. If ever he needed them more in his life he needed them now. He needed his fathers unrestrained nerve, he needed Zeus’s power, Aphrodite's Charm speak, Ares’s strength, and Hades's darkness. He needed to be everything –powerful and merciless. He needed to be more… better

He was barely standing– all of his weight being held up by riptide like a crutch. But it didn’t matter. His fight wasn’t over yet. 

“You should be dead,”

“I hope you haven't claimed life insurance yet.”

“You should be dead,” the titan said again, his eyes looking at the hole that should have been in his stomach. It was gone, in its place was tanned flesh, as smooth as the day he had born. 

Percy himself couldn’t even explain it. He had felt himself die…he was pretty sure he had died. But, for some reason, it didn’t seem to stick. 

 He thought of the friends he had lost, Annabeth, Grover, Jason, Hazel, Piper, Leo, and Frank. All of this was for them. Maybe, the only reason he was still alive was to give them their best chance. Maybe they could inherit a peaceful world that Percy never had. 

Peace…It was such a strange little thing. He wondered what it was like. 

He dropped his bag to the ground that was hiding Zeus' bolt, and smiled as he unzipped it, pulling out the bolt. He held onto it, the metal burning into his flesh. But he didn’t care. Pain flooded through his body, electricity pulsing in his veins. 

“You can’t wield that, boy,” the titan said, laughing. “Only the gods can wield a weapon of that power. It will kill you.”

Percy looked up at the titan. Years ago, the man had seemed so powerful, and so impossible to kill. But now, Percy only knew anger. It filled him completely, taking away any rational thought. All that mattered was killing him…even if it killed him. 

“If it kills me,” Percy said, tightening his grip on the bolt despite the growing pain. “Then I’m taking you with me.”

“So be it,” Kronos said. “I’ll crush you. I’ll just have to keep killing you until you don't even want to come back.”

Percy smiled at the Titan. “I wouldn’t be so sure. I could live a hundred lifetimes, die a thousand times, by a thousand swords, and I still wouldn’t stop trying to kill you. I still wouldn’t stop hating you.”

With every fiber left in his being, he tightened the bolt in his hands, and pointed it at the titan. Electricity flowed through his body uncontrollably. Every single nerve in his body seemed to be bursting with energy, waiting for something – anything to happen. 

The air around them crackled with an energy that could only come from Zeus's bolt, and as Percy held the glowing tip of it aloft, his heart raced in anticipation

“You can’t control it,” the titan said, but he didn’t sound too sure. Afterall, Percy had done plenty of impossible things already.

Percy smiled. “I don’t have to control it. I just have to make it go boom.”

The magic worked almost the same way he controlled water. There was a tug in his gut, but this time, it felt like a wire pulled way too tightly over a large expanse—Pull too tight and it just might snap.

Percy tightened the wire, letting it grow thinner and thinner until eventually there was only one thing it could do. 

Snap.

A sudden, sharp pain pierced his skull. He felt as if someone had driven an ice pick into his brain. His vision blurred, but all around him he could see electricity flying. Blue and purples filled the air, dancing up high above them like an aurora.  It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t so deadly. 

And then, with a roar that shook the very foundations of the world, The largest bolt of electricity Percy had ever seen escaped the bolt, tearing through the sky straight towards Kronos. The poor titan didn’t have any time to react before it hit him square in the chest.  The Titan let out a terrible, gargling scream as the lightning bolt coursed through his flesh, searing and burning with a white-hot fury. Slowly, the pieces of the Titan that had been forming together, shattered like broken glass. Percy could only watch in abject horror, as the pieces of the monster's flesh tore at the seams and flew off into different directions.

Each piece of the titan flew away, flying deeper into Tartarus, where the man wouldn’t be able to reform for hopefully centuries. Percy wouldn't count on it though. The man was a piece of gum on a shoe, following you through all of your days. He had a feeling he would see him again soon.

The world spun around him, and he collapsed to the ground hard. His chest heaved as he gasped for air. He could feel the electricity spreading through his body, burning through him, and filling him with white hot pain. 

For a moment, Percy could only sit on his hands and knees heaving. He couldn’t stop the tears that fell—hot and sticky. Gods, he felt like such a baby.

But all at once, it was like the sky he had been holding had been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in a long while, he could feel himself breathe. The knot of anxiety that had been in his stomach unraveled, and his muscles relaxed, taking in the moment. 

Breathe in…

Breathe in…

Breathe in…

He looked at his hands and was shocked to see thin white scars in the shape of electricity spreading across his skin. It moved like blood moving through veins, becoming a part of him—recording what he’d done on his flesh for all eternity.

He had done it…

Percy collapsed on the ground, and suddenly he saw only black. 

Chapter Text

The funny thing about dying, nuking a titan with the powers of Pikachu, and rapidly aging, is that its fucking exhausting. Add thousands of monsters who want to kill you, and it would make you want to slip into a coma.

After waking up from his nap, Percy came to the terrible conclusion that Kronos had been right. He had been protecting him from every monster in his depths. But, now that the titan was scattered across Tartarus like ashes thrown in an ocean, Percy was free game. 

For what felt like days, he ran from monsters, decapitated them, even drowned a few in the river Styx. But, no matter how many he killed, more popped up seemingly out of nowhere, ready to take down Percy like he was the mole in a game of Whack a mole. 

The first monster he killed was a gorgon —one of Medusa's sisters he had the misfortune to meet during his memory loss. She offered him pig in a blanket (that were definitely poisoned) and then started launching them at him with deadly accuracy. Percy never guessed dodging flying hotdogs would be so hard and dangerous. The moment they landed on the ground they sizzled the dirt they landed in. He didn’t want to imagine what it would do if it touched his skin. 

He killed her quickly by cutting off her head after she ran out of hot dog projectiles. But the next few monsters weren’t as easy. 

The moment he saw the Hydra he cursed the fates for wanting to get involved in his life. There was only one real option to defeat it…and Percy hated it. He had broken his oath to Annabeth so many times now, and each time it was getting easier to forget he had even made an oath in the first place. 

He felt the tug in his stomach, pulling an uncontrollable power out of him, and stopped the Hydra in its tracks. After that, it was easy to cut all of its heads at once when it wasn’t trying to barbeque you. 

During that time, he felt something growing in him—some strange power tingling beneath his skin. It became easier to use his powers, despite the exhaustion of using them so much. He no longer felt like he was going to throw up after controlling the water in someone. 

He felt his muscles growing, his hair still growing (a byproduct of Kronos residual time powers.) He thought going through puberty the first time had been bad enough. But, going through it again at a rapid speed was almost worse than fighting all the monsters. What he wouldn't do for a haircut and a stick of deodorant. 

Percy wasn’t sure how long he was in Tartarus, he seemed to make little progress on his journey to escape. Soon, it felt like his days just seemed to bleed together completely until he wasn’t sure when one day ended and the next began. 

He kept following the river north. Sometimes it felt like a wonderful idea to just jump in the Styx all together and either end everything or become invulnerable. But he shook the idea out of his head and kept on walking. 

His shoes were no longer held together with duct tape, so he had to walk on the ground with his bare feet. It was like walking on thousands of Legos or shards of glass. It was the worst kind of hell.

He knew he was fucked when he walked into a literal dead end. A wall of rock rose up jaggedly from the ground seeming to go on for miles in either direction. It was as tall as it was wide with no end in sight. The rocks were a burnt black color as if they had been burning for centuries. .

Surely, the cave that led to the mortal world had to be around there somewhere. If he just followed the wall, maybe he could find the entrance

Percy jumped back when the wall began to shake, rocks went flying down from the cliffs, and he had to jump back to not get hit. Then, like a child playing with playdough, the wall seemed to morph, becoming almost liquid like. Clearly, Percy was losing his mind. 

He thought he had lost his mind when a figure walked through the rock. 

Percy rolled his eyes when he saw the humanoid figure become solid. Unfortunately, he recognized him. Honestly, being in Tartarus at this time just felt like one giant reunion. 

“You?” Percy asked. “What are you doing here?

The man raised an eyebrow at him. He’d forgotten how beautiful the man was. He looked completely different than the last time he saw him, but for some reason he knew who he was right away. He wondered if the god was like Aphrodite who changed her appearance all of the time. 

 “Have we met? I think I would remember meeting you, Perseus Jackson.”

Percy shook his head. His nerves were overtaking him. He was so close to escaping and yet there was the literal god of death blocking his way.  Did he mean to send him to Hades after how many times he had escaped death? Was he going to die here?

“Oh, calm down,” Thanatos said. “I’m not going to pull you to Hades. The fates would kill me if I did after all the trouble they went through to find you.”

The fates? Why would the fates kill him?

Percy felt himself relax if only a little. Percy wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or terrified that the fates still had plans for him. Honestly, it would be great if they just left him alone or let him at least have a vacation. 

“I’ve come to give you a warning,” the man said. Percy groaned inside. Right, because that wasn’t ominous at all. When the gods gave him warning either that met the end of the world or someone was going to die. 

“Okay,” Percy said. “Hit me with it.”

“Your journey is only just beginning,” he said. “Things will get harder, and you will want to give up. But don’t. Everything is relying on you.”

“That's reassuring,” Percy said. “Doesn’t sound hard at all.”

The man oddly gave Percy a sympathetic smile. “If it was easy, anyone could do it. You are not anyone, Perseus Jackson. This world has never seen someone quite like you.”

“I think I’d like to be normal,” Percy admitted. “Being special is overrated, you know?”

“A hero’s life is never easy. When someone burns so bright, it's expected that they will burn the things around them. You are more than an ember, Perseus. You are the flame that keeps Olympus burning.”

Percy found it really odd how gods and titans kept complimenting him. After all, he had hit a new low and had run out of Oreos to eat yesterday. 

“Goodluck,” the man said. “You’ll need it.”

The man snapped his fingers and a wall of rocks exploded right in front of him. Percy turned away covering his head and arms from any flying rocks wanting to use him as target practice. 

When he turned back around, to thank the man, Thanatos was gone. In the place of all the rocks, was a large opening that led upwards.

It was the exit. 

What had been the point of Thanatos talking to him? It was beyond odd, how the man said a few simple words to him and then disappeared (Just like his father usually did if he was honest. Ha Ha.)

He shook the thought from his head. Carefully, he walked through the exit. Knowing Percy’s luck it wasn’t actually the exit and was instead a doorway to some prison even deeper than Tartarus. 

The tunnel was pitch black. He thought he knew what darkness was, and he’d never been afraid of it, but this was something different. He imagined this is what people meant when they say before the world was made l there was nothing. But, he could still feel the ground on his toes, still feel the wind kissing his skin…He was still here. There wasn’t nothing. 

The first thing he saw was sunlight, and it made him want to cry. Not because he was so emotional, but because it hurt his eyes so much to look at it longer than a second. 

The forest he was in seemed older than time itself. The tall trees reached far up into the sky–their roots traveling down all the way to Hades. There was a smell in the air— fresh strawberries, cut wood, and salty water. It was a small so familiar that he would be able remember it even when he was dead 

Camp…He was back. 

Only a short walk and he’d see the big house, the strawberry fields, and all the campers that probably didn’t even remember him. What were they doing right now? Percy had no idea what day it even was.

He continued to walk through the wood, enjoying squishing his feet through the wet earth. It was welcome after some much time walking on burning hot glass and sand. It was amazing how people could take a simple thing for granted like dirt seeping through toes. You never know how amazing something is, until you're forced to live without it.

He titled his head up to the sky, letting the sun hit his face and warm his body. He could hear the bird chirping all around him, singing melodies from a long-forgotten past. The air was thick with the scent of earth and leaves, a perfume that seemed to envelop me, guiding him deeper into the heart of the forest. The sunlight that managed to filter through the dense canopy cast dappled shadows across the mossy ground, creating a playful dance of light and darkness. 

Ahead of him, he saw a river winding its way through the trees. Its surface shimmered like liquid silver in the sunlight, and the sound of its gentle flow was like music to his ears. Without hesitation, he made his way towards the river, his heart filled with a newfound sense of determination. Not wasting a moment, he collapsed on the bank of the river, cupping his hands like a cup and tasting the crystal water. The water was cool on his tongue and felt like heaven. After drinking more than his fill, he realized exactly where he was. It was the same river where he’d been claimed all those years ago….

During camp, he used to always find himself by the river, drinking in the cold water, and taking some time to himself. After the first war, he would be lucky if he ever had one minute by himself. It had become a safe refuge, a place for just him. And now, here it was when he needed it the most.  

He washed the blood and grime off his hands, a rush of energy filling him. He splashed it up on his face and in his hair, letting it cool him. He couldn’t wait to take a shower and finally wash all the grime off of his body.

“Who are you?” a young voice said. His head snapped up to see a young camper in her bright orange shirt, no older than twelve staring up at him. Her eyes were wide, and she was looking up at him with something Percy couldn’t quite explain. 

“I’m–”

“Marcy,” he heard another voice yell from somewhere in the woods. “This isn’t funny. Where did you go?”

The girl's head snapped to the direction of the voice, and she slowly walked towards it, her hand never once leaving the pommel of her sword. She was afraid…that how she was looking at him—in fear.

Percy put his hand out, like he was talking to a wounded animal, and slowly stood up from the ground.  “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said. “But I need you to take me to Chiron, or Mr. D.”

The young girl took a step back from him. She pulled her sword out from its sheath and raised it steadily towards him. “Who are you?”

“Please,” he said, his voice gentle so as not to scare the girl. Percy wasn’t sure what he looked like, but he was sure he looked wild and dangerous. He could feel ichor in his long hair, feel the mud caked to his skin.

There was a loud crack of someone stepping on wood, and a very loud laugh. A young boy walked through the thicket and froze when he saw Percy.

“Marcy,” he said to the girl. His face was serious, and Percy could see the fear in his eyes, but admirably, the boy held himself together. “Run. Go get Annabeth.”

The girl took off without hesitation, leaving Percy alone with the boy. He was blonde, and well built, probably a son of Athena or Apollo. From the lack of a bow, and the gray tinge in his eyes, he must have been one of Annabeth’s siblings. 

Annabeth…

The boy pulled out his sword, the metal singing in the forest. He glared at Percy as if he was the bug beneath his feat—easily squashable.

“Listen,” Percy said, and hoped the boy would listen to him. “I promise I am not here to hurt you. I just need to speak to Chiron and Mr. D. They will understand everything.”

“Who are you?” the boy said again. “Are you…are you a god?”

Percy almost laughed. “Gods, no,” he said. “I’m the furthest thing from one. I’m…I used to be a camper. I’ve been away for a long time on a quest, and I need to speak to Chiron, please.”

The boy didn’t seem sure. “Annabeth’s coming. You can talk to her.”

Percy sighed. “Annabeth won’t let me say a single thing. She’s an ask questions later type of person.”

The boy smiled for a moment. “So, you’ve met Annabeth, huh? She seemed to have that effect on people.”

“I think she scares me more than the gods sometimes,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.” Percy had been on her bad side enough times to know not to cross her. 

“Maxon,” he heard the familiar lilting voice of Annabeth. “What's wrong.”

It was hard not to stare at Annabeth when she came into the clearing. She looked so beyond familiar, but also so different. She didn’t have her streak of white in her hair, but she was the exact same age as the Annabeth he left back home. She was well muscled, and sunburnt most likely from hours training in the sun.

“Hey, Annabeth,” he said, giving her an awkward little wave.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked. She looked at Maxon who looked like he could major in college in confusion.

The boy shrugged his shoulders. “Marcy found him. Gave her quite the fright.”

“Do you really not recognize me?” Percy said, his heart breaking. He had to remind himself that technically Annabeth only knew him for 3 weeks out of one summer. Why on earth would she remember someone she barely even knew? It had been seven years to her after all, and Percy had no idea what he looked like at the moment. 

“Should I recognize you?” she asked. “I think I would remember a go—someone wandering in the woods looking like they haven’t seen the sun in years.”

“I’m not a god,” he said, catching her slip up. For god's sake why did everyone think he was a god? “I haven’t seen the sun in–oh–seven years? It does wonders for the complexion, you know?”

“You seem so familiar—” Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him and scanned up and down his body. The familiarity hit her all at once, her eyes widened a gasp escaping her lips. “It’s not possible. It can’t be.”

Maxon looked beyond concerned. “Annabeth, what is it?”

Annabeth's face was a sheet of white, and he could see the blood draining from her face. She looked terrified -- more scared than he had ever seen her before. “Percy?”

“Hey Beth,” he said, and collapsed on the ground. 

Percy Jackson slowly opened his eyes, the pain in his head making it almost impossible to focus on anything. He felt as if he had been hit by a bus, twice. The infirmary at Camp Half-Blood was a mess of white linens and stainless steel, with beds lining the walls, each occupied by a demigod in various stages of recovery. Percy wasn't sure which one was worse: the constant beeping of the monitors or the sickly-sweet smell of disinfectant that hung in the air. He tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea forced him back down onto the hard mattress. 

The bright lights made it impossible to focus on anything. He blinked several times, the area around him finally coming into focus. The first thing he saw was familiar blonde hair, tanned skin, and gray eyes, frowning down at him. 

“Annabeth?” he asked. He’d seen her by the river, but he still couldn’t believe it was her. She looked older, harder, but somehow still managed to maintain the air of authority that had always set her apart. 

As she drew near, he found himself struggling to find the right words to bridge the gap between them. Yes, Percy had just nuked a Titan, but Annabeth Chase still managed to terrify him when she was angry. 

He wasn’t sure what to say or do. A few hours ago, he had come to terms that he would die in Tartarus away from everyone he ever cared about, and yet somehow here he was–alive. 

"Hey, Annabeth," he said, his voice rough with emotion and throat raw and dry. "It's been a long time."

Percy wasn’t sure how long it had actually been– He hadn’t been able to keep track of time when he was in Kronos’s domain. But looking at Annabeth, who looked nineteen, and so similar to the girl he had fallen in love with, he realized at the least, it must have been seven years.

Seven years…

He had hoped Kronos had been lying. Some small part of him still didn’t even believe it when he first saw her. But now? 

Seven fucking years. And he thought losing a year to Hera’s games had been bad. This was even worse. 

She stopped a few feet away from him, her expression unreadable. "Percy," she said, her voice cold. He’d hoped after seeing her shocked by the river that maybe he’d get a warm welcome. Obviously, he was wrong. 

“Excuse me,” she said. “Chiron needs to know you're awake.”

She left without saying another word, leaving Percy alone. Gods, what had happened in all that time to make her look at him in complete disgust? He almost preferred being in Tartarus. 

He stared at the wall, counting the flecks of dirt over and over again. He dug his hands into the linen sheets, clenching his hands into fists over and over again. 

He took the time to look around the room. The infirmary was filled to the brim with people. Even during the titan war, he never remembered seeing so many people in the infirmary. What the hell happened while he was gone?

He heard the tell-tale sounds of shoes stepping on the aged wood flooring, and when he looked up, Annabeth was back. 

“Chiron’s on his way,” she said. "He’ll want to talk to you about everything.”

“What exactly happened while I was gone, Annabeth?” 

The girl didn’t answer him- couldn’t even look at him. It felt like he had caught some strange disease, and she couldn’t be farther away from him. 

“You’re alive,” she said, and Percy could tell she didn’t know what she thought about it. “How?”

Wow. No, how are you feeling, Percy? No, thank God you're alive.

“I really don’t know,” Percy mused. Some part of himself had expected to die and had come to terms with it. And then he died…again. Kronos had stabbed him…Percy still had no idea how to explain what had happened. 

Annabeth raised an eyebrow like she really didn’t believe him. “Trust me,” Percy said. “You really don’t want to know anything about Tartarus.” If he could spare this Annabeth from the horrors of that place, he would. She didn’t need to know the details. She didn’t need to know how he cauterized his own flesh, how he almost boiled a man alive, how in his darkest moments, he dreamt of another version of her.

“How the hell are you alive?” Annabeth’s questions sounded oddly like an interrogation. He felt himself growing more uncomfortable as the seconds passed. 

“You don’t sound so happy about that,” he observed. “You look like you want to send me back to Tartarus yourself.”

She froze for a moment then she shrugged her shoulders and pulled out a wicker chair to sit next to him. “Can you blame me after everything you’ve done?”

Percy sighed. “What exactly have I done, Annabeth?”

If it was possible, Annabeth’s face grew even darker - her frowns deepening, and her eyes burning with fire. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She said it so calmly - the anger rippling under the surface but never breaking through. “You betrayed us.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said. “You know I would never do that.”

“It’s been seven years, Percy,” she said. “I don’t know a single thing about you, and you know nothing about me.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “I know nothing about you, the person you’ve become, the things you’ve had to do to get to where you are. You know nothing about me either. Seven years, Beth.”

She flinched at the nickname. Why did he get some satisfaction from that?

“Percy, my boy,” a voice said behind them. “You’re awake.”

Chiron trotted into the infirmary, and for the first time in a long while Percy smiled – really smiled. The man looked different. Time had not been kind to him, and it showed in his graying hair and deep lines on his face. Something about his eyes…he looked so tired. 

“It's good to see you, Chiron,” he said. “You have no idea.”

It was odd looking at Chiron and Annabeth knowing that they weren’t the people he had come to love. They weren’t even past versions of them. They were completely different people, who had different yet similar backstories to the people he knew.

How was he ever supposed to look at them the same way knowing his friends were out there somewhere waiting for him?

The man smiled at him, but it was stiff, so unfamiliar from the free smiles the man used to give him. 

“How are you feeling?” the man asked. “You’re injuries–”

Both Chiron and Annabeth stared down at the large talon like scars on his chest from his fight with Alecto. He was covered in other scars too. Spiderweb like tendrils moved up from his arms from where he controlled the Zeus bolt. They were thin - close to white, but they moved up his body stopping at his heart. Luckily, his clothes covered most of them, so they two didn’t ask any questions. 

“I’m fine,” Percy said, and he left it at that. He could tell neither of them believe him. Annabeth kept shooting him glares, making Percy feel extremely small.

“Perseus,” the centaur said, and he flinched at the formality of it. “We don’t mean to rush, neither of us can fathom what you have lived through. But, we need to know. In the past seven years, we have been fighting an unending war. Anything you can tell us will help.”

“I wasn’t walking in the park while I was gone,” he mused. “I really wish I had information to tell you.”

There was a cold that overcame Chiron. Percy had seen it a few times on the man during the war, but it had never been directed at him. It was a look of disappointment. The same look he had whenever they used to talk about Luke.

“I see,” he said. “That is unfortunate.”

Both Annabeth and Percy’s heads snapped to the door as someone walked in, cursing loudly. “Perseus Jackson,” Clarisse said, staring at him in complete disbelief. “No fucking way.”

“Hey Clarisse,” he said, and couldn’t help but to smile. “Long time no see.”

She shook her head, a small smile spreading on her face. “Gods, you're like a cockroach. They just can’t kill you, can they?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Percy said. He was glad at least one person at the camp didn’t hate him. It was so odd that Clarisse would be the one who didn’t hate him. 

Chiron coughed loudly, and Clarisse’s head snapped to him, suddenly realizing both him and Annabeth were in the room. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

“Of course not,” Chiron said, but Percy could tell he was anything but happy. It looked like he wanted to skewer the poor girl for interrupting the conversation.

“Gods, Kid,” Clarisse said. “You could really use a haircut.”

Percy laughed—it felt so good to laugh. “Yeah, a shower would be nice too. I haven’t had one since—”

He trailed off. It felt like he had been in Tartarus for weeks. But how long had it really been for him? Was he growing quickly—time moving faster for him, or had he actually spent 7 years down there?

Clarisse smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder. “It's okay, we’ll get you showered and get some food for you.”

“That would be great,” he said, forcing a smile on his face. 

“Clarisse,” Chiron said, his voice on edge. “Why don’t you head to Percy’s cabin and make sure he has clean bedding. I have some things I need to talk to him about.”

Clarisse narrowed her eyes. “Whatever you need to ask him can wait, Chiron. There's no need to interrogate him.”

Annabeth huffed. “I understand your sentiments. But, yes, there is. We don’t know Perseus anymore. It's been seven years. He could be on the Titans side. He could be working for Kronos. Look for a scythe charm. He could be a spy."”

“I don't have a scythe charm. I’m not working for Kronos.”

“Perseus–”

“Percy,” he corrected. Hearing her say his name so formally felt so wrong. “My name is Percy.”

“We don’t know who you are anymore,” Annabeth said. “We are at war. We have to take every precaution we can.”

“I promised Annabeth. I swore on the river of Styx that I did not mean harm to you or anyone at camp harm. Did you forget that?

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “You also said you were dangerous.”

He snapped, his patience giving out entirely. “To my enemies. Trust me, you don’t want to make yourself my enemy, Annabeth.  The last person who crossed me got electrocuted and shredded to pieces. I bet he’s regretting a whole lot, right now.”

“Did you just threaten me? She asked. 

“No,” he said. “It was just a reminder. I swore on the River Styx I would not harm anyone at camp, and I still mean that. Don’t villainize me because you want someone to blame.”

Annabeth's mouth snapped shut. He wondered if she had been told that before. He didn’t exactly blame her for her worries. He had no idea what had happened to her to make her so…Jaded.

“I’m sorry,” she said, surprising him. “It’s been a long week. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat like that. I don’t know what you went through down there. In case you didn’t notice we are at war. We’ve been under constant attacks for months and it suddenly just stopped a week ago. We can’t explain it, and we are all on edge.”

“Some more than others,” Clarisse snapped, glaring at Annabeth. Percy cringed. It was probably because he blew up Kronos to smithereens why they finally had some peace. He wasn’t sure if he should tell them yet. Obviously, they didn’t trust him, and Percy didn’t exactly blame them for that. 

“Percy,” Chiron said, “Why don’t we get someone from the Aphrodite cabin to give you that haircut? After you showered and cleaned up, can we talk more? How does that sound?”

Percy nodded, “Sounds fine, I guess.”

“Good,” the centaur said, clapping his hands together. “Let's go Clarisse, It’s almost lunch time.”

“But Chiron—”

The centaur shot her a look, leaving nothing up to discussion.

The girl sighed and kicked her feet as the man led her out of the infirmary. She gave one look back at Percy, as if to say sorry. 

“I still don’t trust you,” Annabeth said, the moment the door to the infirmary closed, and Percy flinched. “If you step one toe out of line, I will personally kill you myself. It doesn’t matter what happened to you or our past friendship. If you do anything to endanger the campers here, I will not hesitate.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he said. “You have to protect the camp. I get it.”

She nodded to them and understood passing between the two that Percy didn’t like. “Good, get some rest. Gods know, you’ll need it.”

“Oh?” he asked. 

Annabeth sighed. “You’ll find camp isn’t the same place you left.”

Chapter Text

The moment he walked into the Aphrodite cabin it was like someone just blew the place to smithereens with dynamite. All at once the dozens of teens everyone stopped what they were doing mid task. There was a loud clatter as a purple bedazzled hair dryer clattered to the ground still on at the highest possible setting. Drew Tanaka scrambled to pick it up and turn it off before anyone was burned or the cabin actually did explode. 

The unfortunate hairdryer unfortunately did its damage, and all eyes were now looking on what had made Drew lose her grip of the dryer. Dozens of eyes were on him, and all Percy wanted to do was jump off a cliff or strangle himself with the dryers tempting cords. 

He looked anywhere except for all the eyes that were on him. It gave him time to actually take in the cabin he’d oddly enough had never been in despite all of his years at camp. He was pleased to see it wasn’t the pink lululemon disaster he was expecting. Instead, it was extremely classic, reminiscent of a greek forum, filled with white columns, and tasteful tapestries. Of course there were several posters of Leonardo Dicaprio, and unfortunately also Piper’s very famous father. 

“What the hell happened to him?” a girl said. When he looked up, his heart stopped for a moment. It was Silena. Silena who had betrayed them—who was probably still betraying them at that very moment. His eyes drifted down to her wrist where sure enough he saw a familiar silver bracelet dangling on her wrist.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Annabeth said next to him. He wasn’t sure why Chiron was forcing her to follow him around when they both couldn’t stand to be in each other's presence at the moment. 

After seeing his Annabeth, and finally having the opportunity to say goodbye. It was hard to look at the blonde—even harder when she was giving the cold shoulder and refusing to even look at him.

“Ummm,” Percy said, forcing himself to look away from Annabeth, who looked like she was planning to skewer him and make him into a Kabob to sell at the nearest Hallal cart. “It was a hydra. He burned a lot of it. I honestly hadn’t even noticed.”

“A hydra?” Annabeth asked, looking confused and vaguely impressed. “You fought a Hydra?” He nodded. “By yourself?” He nodded again.

“Yeah,” Percy said and left it at that. He wasn’t about to tell them that he controlled its blood so it couldn’t move and then killed them. Something told him that wouldn’t put them in their best graces.

Annabeth shook her head, turning back to Silena who had become circling Percy making ridiculous faces at his hair. “Can you cut his hair?” Annabeth asked. “Or maybe even shave it off.”

It wasn’t that bad, was it? He’d definitely looked worse before. Maybe, he should let Annabeth skewer him on a stick—it might be less painful.

“Beth,” Silena said, looking at him. “It’s gonna take me a miracle to help this kid.”

“Silena–”

The girl raised her hand to get her to close her mouth. “It's a good thing I’m good at miracles then, hmm?” She turned towards the cabin of girls. “Piper, get a tub of scalding hot water started. Put some of Circe's Detangler in it.” Silena looked at him again. “Actually, just put the whole bottle in.”

Piper nodded at her, and Percy couldn’t help but follow her as she walked away. If Piper was here, did that mean that Leo and Jason were too? Percy didn’t want to imagine the consequences of that. Annabeth raised an eyebrow at Percy but he just shook his head—he had no idea how he would explain his sudden fascination with Piper. 

“I’m Silena by the way,” she said, and held her hand out. “You?”

Percy shook her hand nervously, gaging for some reaction. “It's Percy.”

“Jackson?” she asked, her mouth practically dropping. “I thought you were dead. Luke told everyone you died on the quest trying to save him.”

Percy fought the urge to punch the wall at the mention of Luke. “I guess I survived…Somehow.”

Silena gave him a small nod of encouragement. “That’s good. We’ll need everyone we can get. Now, come on. Let's fix that hair of yours.”

Silena pushed him down on a chair, and she immediately went to work, moving her hands throughout his hair. Annabeth stayed nearby, sitting on one of the girl's bunks, and pulling out a book seemingly out of nowhere. Looks like some things never changed. 

“Lean your head back,” the girl said. 

“What?”

She rolled her eyes. “For god's sake, Jackson, put your head back or I’ll give you a mullet.”

Percy didn’t need to be told twice. For some reason, he was shocked when he put his hair back and there was a bowl of water. It hadn’t been there a second ago, he was pretty sure. 

The girl behind him, whose name was apparently Dahlia, had already begun massaging his scalp for what felt like an eternity. Her long, delicate fingers moved over his skull, digging into the tight muscles with all the delicacy of an elephant stomping bugs. Piper was cleaning and drying scissors in the corner like she was preparing for surgery, and he wasn’t sure how that made him feel.

Dahlia finished rinsing his hair, and he moved to sit up but she shoved him back down. “That was only the first wash.”

“Oh right,” he said. How many washes was he going to go through? Apparently six.

After the girl was finally done washing his hair, she combed through it for what felt like hours and put some oils into his hair that frankly smelled like olive oil. Maybe it was olive oil? He had no idea.

Once she was happy with her work, she turned to Silena who had been watching the whole thing intently. “He’s ready for you.”

Silena picked up a pair of scissors from the table, and moved around him, looking at his hair with such intensity he thought it might burn off again from her gaze.  Each snip of her scissors echoed through the room, and Percy felt a slight tug as she expertly trimmed away his split ends. He couldn't help but notice the way she moved, so graceful and fluid. He’d never seen Silena so confident about anything before. 

She put some more stuff in his hair; he couldn't even pretend to know what they were. Then she dried his hair with a towel, and then again with a blow dryer because apparently it wasn’t dry enough the first time. Then, Piper came over and went to work cutting off his beard. He hadn’t even noticed he had been growing one, but he was happy to finally have that thing off of his face.

“Tada,” she said, after what felt like hours, and twirled his chair around so he could see his reflection. He felt like Anne Hathaway in the Princess Diaries. Only her makeover probably wasn’t as time consuming as his. 

He had to say, whatever Silena had done to his hair looked great. It was exactly the length he liked (although it was slightly more voluminous.) It felt good to actually be clean after so long. 

Now that his face was cleaned of all the dirt and blood, he could notice the few startling differences. His face was gaunt—all angles and sharp bones. But something about it made him look dangerous and wild. He was beyond pale, like he hadn’t seen the sun in years, and it made his green eyes look almost electric in contrast. 

Quite frankly, Percy didn’t recognize himself. This was someone different. Someone raw, and dangerous, and a little unhinged. 

“You a—” Silena tried to spit out. What on earth was wrong with her? Percy had only ever seen her speak that ridiculously around Charlie.

“What is it?” he asked. Did he have a terrible bald patch or something? Gods, he would never be able to live it down for as long as he was alive. 

“You a—look good,” she sputtered out. “You aren’t that scrawny kid anymore.” She turned to Annabeth. “He looks good. Doesn’t he, Annabeth?”

What on earth was happening?

Annabeth looked at him like she’d rather be in Tartarus than this situation. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I guess.”

“Speak up, Annie,” Silena shouted. God, someone kill him now. Where was Ares with a knife or a spatula when you needed him?

“He looks good, Silena,” she shouted. “Okay?”

“No need to scream,” the girl said with a smirk. He’d rather be fighting Kronos than continue on with this god-awful humiliating conversation. 

“Well,” Annabeth said, grabbing Percy’s hand rather forcibly. “Will you look at the time? We have to go talk to Chiron at the Big House.”

“Annabeth—” Silena said, but she was already pulling Percy out of the door. The door slammed behind them so loudly, he was sure they could have heard it all the way up on Olympus. 

They walked in silence to the big house, and Percy had never felt more awkward in his entire life. Your dad saying you shouldn’t be alive is awkward, but this? This was thirty times worse. 

Annabeth’s feet crunched on the ground as she walked, and he wondered if she was imagining stepping on him. She probably was imagining all the little ants had his face on them. 

The tell-tale signs of war were everywhere throughout the camp. There were ditches every few meters filled with spikes and some black tare substance. On the perimeters were guard towers, where he saw children of Apollo stationed with their bows drawn. Pegasi flew overhead with campers on them circling the camp. It was nothing like he had ever seen. But the organization of it felt familiar in a way—almost like New Rome. 

The campers looked worse than the camp. They looked tired, exhaustion hanging over them like a dark cloud. All of them had armor on despite the fact that it was early in the morning, and it wasn’t time to play capture the flag. They were equipped with weapons—knives and swords hanging off their belts at their sides.

He hated that this was what his home had become.  He hated that it was forced to become the very thing it never wanted to be. Camp was always supposed to be a refuge—not a fortress. 

Annabeth’s grip on his arms tightened and Percy could already feel the bruises forming. “Annabeth–” She kept on walking.

“Annabeth—” She still kept walking, her solid grip on his arms tightening.

“Annabeth—”

“What!” She exploded, turning to face him. “What is it, Perseus?”

Percy glared at her. “First of all, it's Percy. Call me Perseus again and I might just release a minotaur on you. Second, can you please let go of my hand?”

Annabeth looked down at where their hands were intertwined, and he smiled when he saw her face redden. “Oh, sorry.” Thankfully, she let go, and Percy retracted it quickly massaging the muscles.
Something wasn’t right. Annabeth had always been prone to outbursts, but…. She looked sad, and tired. Exhaustion settled in the poor girl's bones. Until then, he hadn’t noticed the deep circles under her eyes, or her pale complexion that was usually so sun kissed. Her hair seemed duller too, thrown up messily in a ponytail. Didn’t the girl ever sleep? She didn’t look like he had in years. 

“What's wrong?” he asked. “I don’t think it was only Drews perfume that got you so twisted up.” She didn’t even smile at his attempt at a joke. 

“It's nothing,” she said.

“Annabeth,” Percy said, and was shocked when he grabbed her hand. “I would like us to be friends, please. I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you, but we will get nowhere if we can’t at least work together.”

She stared at his hand like it was the most complicated thing in the entire universe. He wished things didn’t have to be so complicated. 

“Percy—”

He smiled when she said his name. Perseus felt so wrong coming from her. Only his worst enemies and his mother when she was angry called him that. 

“Annabeth what is it?”

“Gods, Percy, we aren’t friends, okay? Just leave me alone.”

“You’re angry.”

“No, shit.”

Even though she was a different person, he could still tell when something was bothering her. Percy could tell she wasn’t angry at him, but the weight of everything was probably getting to her, and he knew she was bound to explode soon.

“You’re not angry at me, though,” he said, and her head snapped to him in surprise. “There's something else. I’m not stupid.”

“You sure?”

“Annabeth—” he said, and her body almost seemed to collapse in on itself. For a short moment, Percy could feel something—he wasn’t sure what it was. But, it almost felt like she was finally going to open up to him. Her eyes were wide, and she was shaking her head, trying to figure out what to say. 

“Annabeth!’ Someone yelled, and Percy wanted to punch a wall.  Why was the universe out to get him? He could have sworn Annabeth was just about to tell him what was bothering her. But as soon as he saw the boy running towards them, she shut down, her perfectly crafted wall protecting her emotions pushed right back into place. It would take him years, and he would never be able to chisel away at the concrete that surrounded her. 

Percy didn’t recognize the boy who was running towards them. He had blonde curly hair, and bright green eyes that oddly looked like a giant container of green acid. A small part of him reminded Percy of Luke, which was not a good thing because Percy had planned 8 ways to kill the bastard before he’d even woken up that day.

“Who's the newbie?” the boy asked, smiling at her with perfect blinding teeth. “I’m Elijah. Has Annabeth given you the whole half-blood spiel yet? She’s the best person to get it from. Clarisse told me before she gave me a swirly,” He stuck his hand out, and gave him such a mischievous smile that he could only be a son of Hermes. 

“That sounds like Clarisse. The first time we met, we had a sword fight on the tennis courts. I’m Percy,” he said, and he didn’t put a handout. “Technically not a newbie—just returning I guess...”

The moment he said his name, the boy's smile dropped, and he could see the boy's hand tighten on his sword. Interesting.   “I’ve heard of you.”

“Elijah,” Annabeth said, almost in warning, as if she was trying to stop the boy from doing anything stupid. 

“So, you're him, huh?” the boy said. “The unclaimed demigod who betrayed us all. I thought you died.”

“I have a knack for coming back from the dead,” Percy said. “It never seems to stick. You can talk to the fates about it if you like, but I doubt they’ll listen. 

“Shame,” the boy said. “After everything you put this camp through, you’d be better off dead.” It didn’t escape Percy’s notice that Annabeth said nothing to defend him. He shouldn’t have been surprised he guessed, but he wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt. 

“Not that you really seem to care, Elijah,” he spat, the boy's name sounded like venom in his mouth, and he got some satisfaction seeing him flinch. “I didn’t betray this camp. I swore on the river of Styx that I would never hurt anyone at this camp. I don’t see Zeus striking me down with lightning, do you?”

“I don’t believe you,” the boy snapped. “Luke said—-“

“Oh fuck, Luke. Trust me, he isn’t the man you think he is.” Percy was honestly surprised he hadn’t seen Luke yet. Even though the kid had been possessed by Kronos, it would bring him joy to punch him until even his mother didn’t recognize him.

 “Luke is missing,” Annabeth said. It was so quiet; he wasn’t sure if he was hearing her correctly.

“He’s missing?” Elijah said, suddenly forgetting that Percy was even there. “What do you mean he’s missing?”

 “I think missing means exactly what you think it does. I think Annabeth was clear,” Percy said. “He’s not at camp, is he? Let me guess, he disappeared right after you told him I was back?”

Annabeth’s eyes flashed. “How did you know? No one knows what happened,” she said. “He just disappeared last night. I told him you were back, and then he was gone.”

“Sounds like Luke,” Percy said.

“Oh, shut up, Jackson,” Elijah said. “You don’t know anything about Luke.”

“Trust me,” Percy muttered. “I know enough.”

“Just shut up about Luke, Percy. Okay?” Annabeth snapped. “I don’t want to talk about it. Elijah,” she said and turned to the boy. “You have to be at archery practice. Go.”

The boy scoffed and gave Percy a scathing glare before marching off to the archery range. 

The moment the boy was out of earshot, Annabeth deflated. “I’m sorry about him, but please don’t give Elijah a hard time. He’s had a rough go of it—we all have. We don’t trust easily here anymore.”

Percy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, but he needs an attitude adjustment.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “He does. He got all his charm from Luke.”

There was something about the way she said Luke's name that made him pause. It was almost longing—with nothing but worry and carefully hidden sadness. “You and Luke?” he asked, not really even knowing why. “You’re not a thing, are you?”

She shook her head. “Shut up, kelp head. I don’t want to talk about that.” Oh, oh no . They definitely were a thing. He shook his head; he might throw up if he thought about it any longer.

 “Kelp head?” he asked, a small smile sneaking in. “Seriously? I still think seaweed brain has a better ring to it.”

“Seaweed brains implies that you have a brain, and we both know you don’t.”

“I have a brain, thank you very much.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “You don’t even know me. So how would you know?’

She was quiet for a moment. “I really don’t know anything about you.”

“Well then,” he said. “Maybe we should get to know each other. Hello, my name is Percy Jackson. I’m nineteen years old…I like the color blue. My father is Poseidon all though he hasn’t claimed me, and up until a few days ago I was trapped in hell.”

Annabeth stared at him like he had grown another head. “You haven’t changed, have you?”

He smiled at her and walked towards the big house. “It's a part of my charm.”

“Or your stupidity.” She rolled her eyes and kept walking, but for a moment he could swear he saw her trying to hide a small smile. 

   Walking into the big house felt like walking into an old high school you haven't seen in years. So much of it was the same, and yet so much was different. There were pictures of campers on the walls he didn’t recognize, new pillows and different curtains. Percy was an alien in this new camp—unwelcome and judged. 

It looked like the inside had been painted at some point, with an olive-green color every Tick Tocker in the year 2023 would be jealous of. When he looked closer, he noticed there were whole new parts of the place. They had added on a back room and added in a weapons rack right next to the shelf of trophies. 

When he entered, he was greeted with the familiar sight of Chiron and Mr. D playing pinochle. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw how badly Chiron was losing to the god. The horse was growing more and more agitated as every second passed, until he eventually slammed the cards on the table, and gave up.

Mr. D laughed, scooping up a handful of gold drachmas the poor centaur had just lost to the god. He shoved them in his pocket, before shuffling the deck of cards to play again. 

Percy coughed, and both of the men looked up at him in surprise. For a moment, they both simply stared at him. There was something weird in their expression. It was the same way most of the Aphrodite cabin had looked at him after his haircut. 

““What is it?” Percy asked Chiron who was looking at him in a way he never had before. Percy felt himself shrink under the man’s gaze. Likewise, Mr. D was looking at him in a way he couldn’t quite explain. 

“It’s just—”

“You look like your father,” Mr. D said. “He may not have claimed you, but there is no denying you are his son.” Percy had never once before thought he looked anything like the man. While Percy had always been wiry and langley, his father was like a warrior with broad shoulders, and tan skin that rippled from his muscles. 

But, when he had looked at himself in the mirror in Aphrodite's cabin, he had noticed the same thing. Sometime in Tartarus he’d had a growth spurt and he’d grown into his frame. But while his father had been tanned from days in the sun, Percy was pale beyond belief. Even paler than Nico Di Angelo.

“Mr. D,” he said, oddly thankful to see the old god. 

“It’s good to see you, Jackson,” he said. “I had a feeling I’d see you again.” Percy’s mouth opened in shock. Mr. D? Glad to see him? What parallel universe was he in? “Close your mouth, boy. Or it might get stuck that way.” Percy immediately closed his mouth.

“Sorry,” he cringed. 

“We need to speak,” Chiron said. “As you may have guessed, camp is not the place you may remember. We are fighting a war and for some reason the attacks have all but stopped. We need to plan.”

“‘I take it the war isn’t going well?” he asked. 

Mr. D laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

Chiron smiled at Percy, but for some reason it felt forced. He could tell the man wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. Percy didn’t blame him really. “Perhaps with your help things might take a turn for the better. Can you tell us anything that might be able to help us? Maybe you overheard some conversations in Tartarus? Anything?”

“If we are to move forward—if I am to tell you anything, there are some things we need to set straight.” Percy said. 

“Percy–” Chiron said, but Percy put up a hand, and the man instantly silenced. “I did not betray you. I did not steal the bolt.”

“Percy, my boy,” Chiron said. “It is alright. We do not blame you for your thievery. Your father is a powerful man.”

Percy shook his head. He knew there was only one way to prove his innocence. “I swear on the River of Styx, I did not steal the bolt.” He didn't know why Chiron didn’t just have him do that the first time around. It probably would have saved him alot of pain and trauma. 

Outside, thunder crashed overhead, and Chiron and Annabeth looked up as if expecting lightning to come down from the sky and electrocute him where he stood. When nothing happened the weight of the declaration finally settled over the room and everyone was silent.

Percy grabbed his bag from the ground and dug through it, picking up the master bolt he had wielded to wound the Titan. He heard Annabeth gasp as he pulled it out, and he had to grit his teeth as a flood of pain pulsed through his body.

“I think we need to return this to the gods tonight.”

“Yeah,” Mr. D said. “That would probably be a good idea.”

“If you didn’t steal the bolt, then who did?” Annabeth asked. Her face was pale, like she already knew the answer, and had figured it out long ago. 

“Annabeth—” he said, and couldn’t help but look at her with pity. “Don’t you know?” he asked. “I thought it should have been obvious by now.” Annabeth shook her head, her face growing paler as the seconds passed.

If there was one thing he knew about Annabeth she was smart. He was sure she had already been putting together the pieces of the puzzle, but her heart just couldn’t believe it. 

“No, it can’t be—”

Chiron put a hand on her shoulder, but she kept shaking her head. “I had my doubts about the boy. He was so angry as the years passed, prone to random fits of violence. At first, I thought it was just the pressure, but—”

“Then his stories started not to add up,” Percy said. “He would disappear, wouldn’t he? Maybe for days on end, and he would always come up with some excuse as to where he was.”

“He couldn’t have,” Annabeth said. “He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that to me. ” Percy wanted to say that Annabeth wasn’t special. It didn’t matter what she was to him, his anger to gods clouded everything, even his love for the people he knew. 

“Annabeth,” he tried to say as gently as possible. “You know it’s the truth.” Percy’s head felt like he was under water but he kept speaking. “I didn’t just fall into Tartarus.”

“What?”

“Luke let me go.”

She froze, the realization dawning on her slowly. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to believe it. When Annabeth spoke next, her voice so quiet and wounded, it tugged at Percy’s heart. Afterall, Percy knew what it felt like to be betrayed. “He disappeared after I told him you were back. He must have known it was over for him.”

Percy nodded. “I’m sorry. I know you too must have been close.” The words were bitter on his tongue, and he hated himself for it.

“Maybe he was being forced,” Annabeth said. “Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”

“You’re not wrong,” Percy admitted. “He wasn’t entirely in control.”

All heads snapped to him, and Percy sighed. He was going to have to explain everything to them. He was going to have to tell them about Kronos…He didn’t want to talk about it. Everytime he closed his eyes he could feel Kronos’s sword plunging through his body, and he could feel himself dying. 

He lowered himself to a threadbare couch that had some suspicious blood stains on it, and felt his body collapse. The exhaustion of everything hit him all at once—Tartarus, Kronos, Time Travel, dying…How could anyone be able to make sense of all of that by themselves?

“Percy, my boy,” Chiron said. “What do you mean he wasn’t in control?”

He held his head in his hands. God, he could feel a headache coming on. “I want to make one thing clear,” he looked up at them, and his heart ached. Annabeth looked so hopeful and so did Chiron. They had no idea that in order to win the war Luke had to die. “Luke made his choices. He made the choice first to start talking to Kronos. He made the choice to steal the bolt because he was angry at his father.” 

“But, everything after….” He turned to Annabeth who had never looked smaller. “Do you remember when we were on the run from that police officer?”

Annabeth nodded slowly, and her face grew even paler. No doubt her mind was replaying Luke killing that poor officer over and over again. 

Chiron raised an eyebrow. “What officer?”

“I never told you,” Annabeth said. “I was scared. I’d never felt so scared of him before. But, Luke killed a police officer. Killed him in cold blood by decapitating him. I thought that he had just lost control. The man had shot Percy…”

“He had lost control,” Percy continued for her. “Kronos had slowly been taking over his body. He wasn’t in control of himself half of the time.”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth said. 

Percy shook his head. “Trust me, the gods have nothing to do with it.”

Mr. D pulled out a chair for Annabeth to sit in, and she practically collapsed into it— her body just giving out all at once.  Percy fought the urge to run over to her, and tell her everything was going to be alright. He wanted to hold her hand and support her—be there for her when no one else was. 

“How do you know all this, Percy?” Chiron asked. Percy wasn’t surprised. He knew he would have to tell them what happened in Tartarus eventually. He had hoped he might have a little more time of normalcy because he knew once he told them, nothing would ever be the same again.

“I met Kronos down in Tartarus,”

Chirons eyes widened. “How are you alive, my boy?” Percy was asking himself the same question. 

Percy needed something to drink. Preferably something with heavy amounts of tequila. “I didn’t get out unfazed.” Percy pulled up his sleeves so the group could see the lightning scars that littered his body. He heard the group gasp, as their eyes followed the thin scars that ran throughout his body. 

“I electrocuted him with Zeus’s bolt,” he confessed. “It was the most painful thing I've ever felt in my entire life, but I was already dying so I didn’t have any other options. He’s in a bunch of tiny pieces right now, but knowing him he’s probably already reforming.”

Annabeth was growing paler as the seconds passed. “That’s why the attacks stopped.” Percy nodded.

Mr. D stood up from his chair, and it clattered to the ground behind him, making Annabeth jump. “That’s impossible,” Mr. D said. “Mortals cannot use a god's sacred weapon. It’s never been done before, Percy. The power alone would melt you or at least drive you insane.”

Percy shrugged his shoulders. Kronos had told him the very same thing, but he’d used it anyway. He hadn’t seen any other options really. “I can’t explain it.”

“What happened down there?” he said, strangely gentle. It was like he was afraid if he asked Percy too much he might snap. “How could you survive seven years with the Titan of time?

A breeze drifted in through the open window, smelling of the sea. The salt, and seaweed filled his nose, calming him for a small moment. He stared at the billowing curtains and the light that painted a kaleidoscope of colors on the aged wooden floor.  Thanks dad, he thought. 

“I should be dead,” Percy admitted. “I don’t know how I survived but Kronos ran me through with his sword and yet here I am without a single scar. It was like the fates weren’t done with me yet—as if they still had plans and weren’t ready for me to die.”

Mr. D had frozen going so still that it sent a flash of warning through Percy’s blood, chilling him to the bone. His eyes scanned Percy, looking at every single scar, every hair out of place, and with everything he saw he grew more and more afraid. 

“That is impossible,” he said again. “The fates have never…”

Percy smiled. “That’s what Kronos said right before he was torn into a thousand little pieces.”

Chapter Text

The street outside the Empire State Building was bustling with tourists and New York locals just trying to get on with their days. The familiar sounds filled his ears—cars honking, tourists asking for directions, and people yelling at walkers who got in their way. It was all white noise to him — a comforting feeling he hadn’t realized he’d even missed. 

Somewhere on the upper west side near 76th street his mom was probably at home getting ready to start the day. Annabeth had told him that Luke had got her out, and he was thankful he had at least kept one promise. She was so close…All he had to do was call a cab, or grab the 3 train at Penn station  and he would be there in twenty minutes…

He followed Annabeth through the revolving doors. Percy’s shoes clicked on the polished floor of the Empire State Building’s Lobby. To everyone else, It looked like the nineteen year old boy was simply visiting the place with his girlfriend. Little did they know that the very fate of the world rested on his shoulders. 

Percy approached the poor doorman, who couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five. He was probably some low level god or sprite that was cursed to watch the door to Olympus for all eternity. He looked like a complete dweeb. He had a shirt that said The Angels Have The Blue Box with a picture of the statue of liberty grabbing some poor tourist.

“600th floor,” he told the poor doorman. 

The man looked up at him. “Listen kid,” he said. “I don’t know what kind of joke this is, but there is no 600th floor.”

Percy pulled out the master bolt from his bag and slammed it on the man's desk. “Are you sure about that?”

The poor man swallowed air, looking from the bolt to him, realization crossing his face. “600th floor it is.” The elevator door dinged open, and Percy smiled at him.

“Thank You,” he said. “I’ll make sure to tell my uncle you need a pay raise.”

“Thank you?” the man said, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Annabeth followed him into the open elevator. “That was unnecessary,” Annabeth said, the moment the door closed. “You didn’t need to terrify the poor man.”

“Probably not, But it was fun,” he said, and bopped his head to the godsawful  elevator music. It sounded like Hermes trying to sing smooth jazz. Knowing the man it probably was Hermes. 

“Gods,” she said. “You're a sadist, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said. “I’ve just had a long seven years. We all have.”

The longer they were in the elevator the more he felt his heart pound in his chest. Percy knew he wasn’t a good liar—he would never pretend he was. The only way he had gotten as far in his lies was probably because the truth was so ridiculous no one would ever believe it. But these were gods…One of them was probably responsible for his time travel. How was he supposed to pretend to be something he wasn’t in front of all of them?

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked. “You look like you're about to throw up all over this elevator.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad of an idea.” Maybe then he wouldn’t have to be in the presence of his terrible family members. 

She looked at him in sympathy for a moment, but then remembered she hated him, and scowled. “If you throw up all over me, I will never forgive you.”

“That's a promise?”

She scowled, and crossed her arms over her chest, thoroughly ignoring him. He wasn’t sure why, But Percy was enjoying getting under her skin. He wanted to press her buttons, figure out what annoyed her, and then annoy her even more. It was immature of him,considering everything they both had been through.  a

The elevator doors opened with a loud ding. For a moment he could only stare at Olympus. Good things never happened to him here. Either gods were voting for his death, or he was at war, or he was yelling at them to acknowledge their children.

Olympus looked just like it had the first time he ever saw it. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces—a city of mansions—all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow.

He could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other. It was an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn’t in ruins. It was new, and  clean, and colorful, the way Athens must’ve looked twenty five hundred years ago. What he couldn’t help but miss was the new building Annabeth had carefully constructed for the restoration of the place. 

Percy felt naked as he walked through Olympus. Nymphs, sprites and gods all stopped to stare at the two of them as they walked through the city. He could hear their whispers—feel their eyes staring into his soul. 

“Everyones staring at you,” Annabeth said, but he ignored them, keeping one foot in front of the other. 

The throne room of Olympus was in chaos. All twelve of the Olympian gods were there, screaming at each other for reasons Percy didn’t know. He was sure it had something to do with the war, or knowing his luck they were deciding whether or not to kill him again.

At that moment, the gods, realizing they had a visitor, stopped what they were doing to look at him. Most would have felt small under their towering gazes, but Percy didn’t. He just wanted to punch them all in their abnormally perfect faces.

“Percy?” his father was the first to say. He was staring at him like he was something in a museum and not his son. Technically, he’d only met this version of his father once, but Percy was surprised to see the tears in his eyes, and the complete and utter disbelief. “But how? You died. I felt you die.”

He felt the whispers all around him, and the eyes of dozens of gods sizing him up. Percy ignored them…He’d face worse things before than a group of angry gods. 

“How—”

“He fell into Tartarus—”

“It’s impossible—”

The gods looked shocked, but they were good at hiding it. He could feel the curious glances from all of them sizing him up—trying to figure out how exactly he wasn’t monster meat down in Tartarus. Athena looked at him with nothing but disdain (not that it was unexpected.) Apollo was leaning back in his chair watching everything with a bowl of popcorn that had magically appeared out of nowhere. And his father…

He smiled at his father, the whispers fading into oblivion. It was good to know at least someone cared about his death. “Surprise?”

His father hid his surprise quickly, but Percy could tell he was shaken. He walked towards him tentatively, almost as if he might disappear if he approached him. “You’ve done well, my son,” he said, and all at once the throne room exploded.

Zeus roared, standing up from his throne, and glaring at his brother. “So you claim him then, do you? You finally admit your wrongdoings?”

“You’ve broken your oath,” Hera said, and Percy fought the urge to roll his eyes at the queen of the gods. She, above everyone, shouldn’t talk about breaking rules. “The pro–”

“Perseus is not a wrong doing, brother,” his father said, interrupting Hera before she could talk about the great prophecy. “He is my son, I will proudly claim him as so.”

“You have the audacity—”

“He has done what few demigods have ever done. He has walked through Tartarus and survived. No one, not even the gods, could have done what he has.”

“But how?” Zeus asked, his eyes quite literally turning to flames. “How can a mere child do what the gods themselves cannot?”

“I walked,” he said, and walked further into the throne room. He could feel the eyes of the god on him as he moved, but he kept his head held high. He wouldn’t let those gods scare him. If they killed him so be it, he would probably just end up coming back to life or time traveling again.

“Perseus Jackson,” Zeus roared. He stood up from his throne standing high above him. If it was supposed to be intimidating. Percy really wasn’t affected. “How dare you?”

“Because, I can,” he said, and his father shot him a warning glance. Annabeth stiffened behind him, and she let out a small gasp.

“Have you come to grovel? Come to return my bolt and beg forgiveness for stealing it from me? I should kill you where you stand.”

“I have nothing to ask forgiveness for,” he said, and already he could see the anger growing on the King of the Gods face. “I did not steal your bolt. But, I have come to return it.”

Percy pulled the bolt from his bag, gritting his teeth as he held it. If he was honest, it was getting easier to hold the power of Zeus, and he wasn’t sure what that meant for him.

The moment the bolt was out of the bag he threw it at Zeus who caught it. It grew larger, and crackled with energy that Percy knew from experience was as powerful as it was painful.

“You say you did not steal it,” the god seethed. “But then why do you have it here? Would you really lie to me, nephew?”

“I am not lying to you, Uncle,” he said. “The bolt was stolen by another demigod, Luke Castellan. He snuck the bolt into my bag and then dropped me into Tartarus so I might deliver it to dear old grandpa.”

“Prove it,” the god said. “I do not believe you.”

“If I swear on the River of Styx would that be enough for you?”

The god looked like he was about to strike him with his newly required bolt, but he held himself together. “Yes, that would suffice. But, I doubt you’ll do it.”

“I swear on the river Styx I did not steal your lightning bolt. I swear it was Luke Castellan who stole it, and then dropped me into Tartarus.” When Percy didn’t turn into a pillar of salt, Zeus almost looked angrier.

“Fine, Half Blood," Zeus said. “But you still have to pay for the crime of being born.” He really hoped Zeus didn’t decide to turn him into a tree. That would suck.

“Brother–” his father interrupted, but Percy cut him off.

“I think I already have paid for it,” he said. “Seven years in Tartarus. Not even you can imagine the suffering I have endured.” Was Percy exaggerating his time in Tartarus? Yes, but Zeus didn’t know that.

“He is right,” a god said, and Percy was shocked to see it was Hermes of all people who said it. The man hadn’t reacted when Percy said his son had stolen the bolt. It was almost as if Hermes had already known and was just waiting for the inevitable.  “None of us could ever understand the amount of suffering he had gone through. Let him live.”

“Thank you, Lord Hermes,” he said, nodding to the man. Despite everything, Percy did know that Hermes loved Luke and deeply regretted his fall to Kronos.

“Fine,” Zeus said, like a twelve year old child who had just been told no for the first time. “But put one step out of line and I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“I’m not sure you could,” a voice said. All eyes turned to Apollo who had eaten all of his popcorn and was instead staring at Percy like some type of science project. “Do none of you see it? The boy has been touched by fate. I doubt you could kill him even if you wanted to. You’ve died once already, haven't you?”

“How?” Fucking shit. How in Hades was he supposed to explain this to any of them?

“Percy?” he heard his father say. “Is this true?”

“I didn’t think anyone would believe it,” he said. “But…” 

All at once, his head filled with images of Kronos running his sword through him. He could feel the shock of it—the unbelievable pain and exhaustion flooding through his body, as he pulled the sword out, and left him to die. He could feel the electricity pouring through his veins as he blew up the titan. He could feel power bursting through his body as he controlled the Hydra's blood, letting him land a killing blow. 

He fell to the ground, as if he was getting killed all over again. He could practically feel the earth under his knees, feel the acrid air on his skin, and taste the blood in his mouth.

This wasn’t right though, he wasn’t in Tartarus…he had gotten out. Something…no, someone was rifling through his head. He could feel a presence, hardly subtle as they tore through him, moving from memory to memory.

 Before whoever was in his head could see anything from his past, he put up every wall he could think of. He flooded his brain with useless memories the gods would have no interest in —fighting the minotaur, losing his mother, smelly gabe hitting him after losing an important poker game. 

He thought of kissing his Annabeth on that pier in his dreams. He had been so happy and content and so willing to die to join her in the after life. 

He let that happiness drive him. He could feel his vocal cords ripping themselves apart as he let out a scream, pushing whoever was in his head out.

Just as quickly as it had happened, he was back out of his head, holding himself up with his hands on the floor, heaving as sweat poured out from him.

“Percy,” he heard a voice say. Someone put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched. He looked up, and when he saw familiar blonde hair, he felt himself relax. It was Annabeth. It wasn’t Kronos. He wasn’t in Tartarus, and he was safe. 

Percy spit blood out of his mouth, the red staining the polished white floor and glared up at the gods. Anger like he had never felt before flooded through him and took away any thought except his desire to kill every single one of the gods. “Who the hell was in my head?’

But no one answered. “Who the hell was in my head?” 

His father was the first one to move, walking towards Percy carefully. “Percy?” he asked. “How did you—”

“Who was in my head?” he practically sobbed. “How could you?” How could they force him to live through that again? See all of that again?

“Percy,” he felt Annabeth wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to her. “You're okay. You're safe.”

All the gods looked sickly, like they had just discovered some terrible truth. 

“Annabeth,” he practically begged the girl. “Get me out of here, please.”

The girl looked pale, but she nodded at Percy, and helped him up from the ground. His legs felt shaky, but he ignored it—he could do this—he had to do this.

“Wait,” a voice said, and he froze. It was Apollo. The god was looking at him like he could see right through him—with pity. “I shouldn’t have looked into your memories. But I had to see—I had to know what happened. The fates don’t just bring anyone back.”

“You could have just asked,” Percy said. “You didn’t have to make me live through that again.” He looked around at the other gods who were staring at him as if something new was just revealed. “Did everyone see?”

Apollo nodded, and Percy almost threw up. They had all seen what he had been through…

“Perseus,” his father said, and he hated that he looked at him with something close to pity. He was surprised when the man came forward and cupped his cheek. Even before he couldn’t remember his father ever being so sentimental. “Go home and rest. I will talk to Apollo about what he has done. For what it is worth, I am sorry.”

It wasn’t in his father’s nature to apologize, but he was thankful that he did. 

“Thank you,” he said. He turned to Annabeth and nodded to her to help him out of the throne room. She seemed to understand immediately, and helped him walk. 

His mind was a blur as he walked through Olympus, and thankfully Annabeth seemed to understand that he wasn’t really in the mood for idle chatter. 

When they stepped back into the elevator, Annabeth attempted to smile at him, but it came out more like a grimace. “I’m glad that's over with,” Annabeth said, attempting a joke. “I thought for sure Zeus was going to smite you where you stood.”

“I’m sure that would have made you happy,” he said under his breath. “Sorry,” he said immediately after. “I just—”

“Oh, don’t worry. I was already planning your funeral,” she joked. “I was hoping you wouldn’t make it through the elevator.”

He laughed, but it only made his head hurt more. “Pity,” he said. “I hope you didn’t already make my shroud.”

She shrugged and watched the numbers on the elevator decrease as they got closer to the elevator. “Someone can never be too prepared,” she said,

“You okay?” she asked. “Really? You were screaming. I just want to make sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But, how would you feel about paying someone a visit?”

“Go in,” Annabeth said. “What are you waiting for?”

What are you waiting for? It was a good question really. It was amazing that he could face gods and monsters and not be afraid, but he was terrified to knock on the door of his own mothers apartment. What was wrong with him?

“What if she’s moved on, Annabeth?” he said. “What if she has a family, and she’s forgotten all about me? What if I ruin everything?”

Percy couldn’t help but think of his baby sister Estelle and Paul. They were his family, and yet he always felt like he was outside, looking through a glass window at their happy family. He’d felt like a stranger intruding in their home, even though he knew he wasn’t.

But…because he never went to goode highschool did that mean that his mother never met Paul? Did that mean Estelle had never been born? Was smelly gabe still alive behind the apartment door, waiting to hit him like he’d always done in his childhood? Had he ruined everything for his mother?

“Percy,” he heard a voice and he was surprised to find Annabeth's hand on his shoulder. “It's alright. She’s your mother. I’ve met her, you know. I don’t think I've ever met a person with more heart.”

“You met her?” Percy said, surprise leaking into his voice. “When?”

“At your funeral,” she said. “She loved you more than life itself. That kind of love just doesn’t disappear.”

“Thank You,” Percy said. “Really. I might have stood at this door all day if you hadn’t come.”

He knocked on the door before he could think better of it, and held his breath. Behind the door, he heard the pitter-patter of feet running throughout the apartment, until it eventually stopped right in front of the door. 

The door swung open, and when Percy looked down, he saw a little girl staring up at him with nothing but pure suspicion. 

“Hello,” he told the familiar little girl at the door. He almost cried seeing the familiar face of his little sister there. She was smiling, her hair in messy little pigtails, just like they always were. She was alive…Maybe Percy hadn’t fucked up as much as he thought he had. 

“Who are you?” she asked with suspicion, her little arms crossed over his chest.

Percy felt like he was going to cry. “I need to talk to your mom. Is she in?”

“Why do you want to talk to mommy?”

“Estelle!” he heard a voice say from deep within the apartment. “Who is it?”

“A stranger looking for mommy,” she yelled back to him. 

He almost cried again when he saw Paul Blofis, looking so familiar walking towards the door. “You’re looking for sally?” he asked, and put his hand on Estelles shoulder. “She’s at work right now.”

“Oh,” Percy said, feeling himself deflate. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

The man narrowed his eyes at Percy. “You look familiar, have we met before?”

Percy opened his mouth to say something, but what could he say? Hey, I’m your wife's son who she buried seven years ago. Also, we’ve met in the past, technically future, and you were my highschool teacher. 

“No,” he choked out. “We haven’t met.” Gods, he could survive Tartarus, but somehow it was a mere conversation with his Dad that was going to be the death of him. 

“He looks like the boy in those pictures,” Estelle said, speaking in a hushed little whisper.

Paul looked confused for a moment, staring down at his daughter with his eyebrows raised. “What pictures?”

“The pictures of my big brother.”

It took Paul a moment for it to hit him, but when it did his eyes widened as he took in Percy for the first time. He gaped at him like a fish  and became even more still than one of Medusa’s statues. The man scanned up and down his body, taking in his messy hair and green eyes that he probably saw everyday in some old picture.

“Percy?” he asked. 

Percy smiled but it came out more like a grimace. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Come in,” Paul rushed out almost frantically. “Please, come in.”

“It’s okay,” Annabeth said, behind him. “You’ll be okay.”

Percy took a deep breath and forced a smile as he entered the home. 

The signs of his mother were everywhere. Old books on the ground, silly art she’d picked up at some thrift store in chelsea. The walls were painted a pale blue color that looked calming as the sun's rays streamed through the windows. The curtains were hand stitched with mismatched thread, and so were the coffee stained pillows. 

“Sit down,” Paul said, gesturing to a stained couch that Estelle had taken a liking to coloring all over.  “Do you want coffee, tea?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “But, thank you.”

The trio of people sat down on the blue stained couch in silence. Estelle plopped herself down on Paul’s lap, her feet not yet touching the floor.

“You're alive,” Paul said. I just can’t believe it. “But how? I mean–Sally told me you fell into…well hell.”

“She told you?” he asked in surprise. He would have thought she would have tried to forget the gods considering they had taken so much away from her.

“I didn’t believe her at first,” he said. “I thought the notion of it was insane. But, your mom, well, she was convincing.”

“I’m surprised she told you.”

“I understand,” he said. “But, She doesn’t ever stop talking about you. I’ve never seen a mother so proud of her son before.” Paul turned to Annabeth as if he noticed her for the first time since they came. “Are you his girlfriend? I remember you coming to the apartment a long time ago.”

“No,” she said immediately. “I mean, no. We're just friends.”

“Oh,” Paul said, and his smile dropped.. “Right of course. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“It’s okay,” Percy said. “Really.”

“Sally should be home soon,” Paul said. For a moment the man simply stared at Percy, and he felt himself suddenly growing self conscious. “Sorry,” he said after a while. “I just can’t believe this. You have no idea how happy she is going to be when she sees you. She might just drop dead from the shock of it.”

“Are you my older brother?” a tiny voice said.

“Yeah,” Percy said. “I am.”

“Mommy said you were a hero,” she told him. “I want to be like that when I’m older.”

Percy smiled down at her. He had been so afraid that he would come to the apartment and find that his sister never existed. But, now his heart was full, and he felt so happy. 

“Paul, the store was out of everything bagels so I got regular instead—-” There was a loud clatter of something falling to the ground, and when Percy turned around to see who it was his heart physically stopped beating. 

There was his mother still with her keys in her hand, frozen in place. Cans of green beans were rolling on the ground, squashing the loaf of bread she had bought from Zabaars. 

“Percy?”

For a moment they simply stared at each other in complete disbelief neither one moving. Percy took her in – the familiar warmth of her presence. She looked so familiar, but there were also differences. Her dark hair was littered with streaks of gray, and there were more lines on her face. But, none of that mattered – she was still his mother.

It took a total of 3 seconds for Percy to fling himself off of the couch and run into his mothers arms. Immediately, her arms wrapped around him, pulling him in tight, and her head fell to his neck.

“How is this possible?” she asked, taking a step back away from him. She held his face in her hands, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably. His mother noticed Annabeth was in the room, and a look of recollection crossed her face. “Annabeth? How?”

“It’s a long story,” Percy said, holding back tears. “But, I’m here. I’m here now.”

Her arms tightened around him, and for the first time in a long while, Percy felt himself breathe. All of the terrible things, all of the worries, fears and doubts disappeared, and all that mattered was that moment. He was safe, and he was with his mother.

“Oh, my baby,” his mother said, and he could feel her wet tears on his shoulder.. “I can’t—I can’t believe it.”

“Mommy!” Estelle shouted, and flung herself into the hug, forming a tight knit group of arms, and legs. Percy almost cried as he felt his baby sister wrap one arm around his stomach and the other around Sally. “Percy’s back!’

His mother let out a sob. “I know honey. Your brother is back. Why don’t we sit down? I’ll make some lunch?” She turned to Percy. “Are you hungry? I can make you anything–anything at all.”

Percy nodded. “Yeah. As long as it's blue.”

Sally walked them over to the couch, and smiled at Paul whose eyes had gone all mistied. He tried to hide it, wiping away the tears, but Percy knew him too well.

“Percy,” his mother said. “Meet Paul, your stepfather and your baby sister.”

“I'm glad you aren’t dead, Percy,” Paul said. “You have no idea how good it is to finally meet you after so long.”

Estelle tugged on his shirt, and Percy looked down to see her smiling up at him. “I’m glad I’m not an only child anymore.”

Percy laughed. “Yeah, me too, Estelle.”

“Annabeth,” His mother said to the girl. Percy had almost forgotten she was there. She was leaning against the wall watching everything unfold, her eyes were brimmed with red, but she hid it well. “How is this possible?”

Annabeth shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been asking myself that for a while, Mrs. Jackson. He appeared a few days ago in the woods. Gave a scare to some of the younger campers.”

“What happened?” she asked Percy. “I thought–”

“Trust me,” he said. “You don’t want to know.”

His mother shook her head. “Enough of that, Perseus Jackson. No matter how terrible your time was, we are family. If you let us, we can help soldier your burdens. You don’t have to do this alone.”

What if he did tell them? There was nothing really stopping him from telling them everything. He knew he was running on borrowed time. One day, everything was going to be revealed whether he liked it or not. What was stopping him from telling them?

He looked at Annabeth who had suddenly gone still. She must have realized how close he was to telling them everything. By the gods, Percy wanted to tell her. 

He wanted back the girl and best friend who he could tell everything to. Percy knew he was chasing ghosts–holding on to the memory of a person who was dead and no longer existed. He wanted to trust her, but the truth was he didn’t know her. Maybe, all he needed was to take a leap of faith.

At that moment, he came to the terrifying conclusion that he was terrified. Percy, hero of olympus, time traveler and Praetor of Rome was scared of facing the truth. He was scared of admitting everything because it would make everything real. It would mean he would never see his family again. He was afraid these new people would never accept him as he was and would never love. 

He looked at them –really looked at them. His mothers smile, his sister's sticky fingers, and Annabeth. Maybe, his family wasn’t gone, he’d just gained a new one.

“I–” he felt himself panicking. Would they even believe him? Or was it too outrageous for even them to believe.

“I want to tell you everything,” he said. “You have no idea how much I want to tell you the truth. But–”

“No buts, Percy,” his mother said. “Family.”

He shook his head. “You might not think the same way when I tell you everything.’

“Percy–” he didn’t listen. Instead, he moved to the fireplace, looking at all the photos of the family he wanted desperately to be a part of . There were pictures of summer vacations, Paul and his mothers wedding, Estelle being born–he had missed it all. 

“That's you,” his mother said. “When you were a baby. And now, look at you. You’re so grown, and mature. You grew up and I never got to see it. You were so small before you left for camp and now look at you.”

Percy stared down at the photo of him and his mother. He was smiling, his bright eyes beaming with happiness. He had a scar above his eye that Percy didn’t remember ever having, but he must have gotten it on one of reckless adventures. His hair was a wild mess, just like it still was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that happy before. 

“You’ve grown up,” she said. “You don’t even have your baby scars.”

If only his mother knew how much he wished he didn’t have to grow up. If only she knew he would give anything to have those untainted moments back. 

“Percy,” his mother said again, grabbing a hold of his face. “You can tell us anything. You are my son, and I’ll love you through everything. There is nothing we can’t get through.”

“That’s just it,” he whispered, so quiet he couldn’t even hear it himself. “I’m not your son, not really.”

The entire room froze. Percy realized he hadn’t quite crossed the line of no return yet. He could still leave, and not tell them what had happened. He could still walk away. 

“What do you mean?” his mother asked. He was sure she was probably going through terrible scenarios like body snatchers in her head. 

Percy’s heart hurt, physically hurt. He looked at Annabeth whose eyes were wide. Her hand was slowly itching to her knife, and he didn’t blame her. Paul looked afraid for a moment–afraid of him. 

“If I tell you all the truth I need you to listen, Please,” he said. “I don’t know how it happened myself, and I don’t have all the answers. I can only tell you what happened to me.” He turned to Annabeth. “Beth I need you to swear on the River Styx you won’t tell anyone what I tell you today unless I say you can.”

“I’m not swearing anything, Percy,” she said. “Not until I know what secrets I’m keeping.”

“Annabeth,” he said. “If the wrong people find out about this it could be devastating. The gods…I don’t want to know how the gods will react to this if it gets out. Please.”

“Percy—”

“Annabeth,” he said again. “You know I would never do anything to ever hurt anyone at camp. You may not trust me, but trust in that.”

“Fine,” she said, her face blank. “I swear of the River Styx not to tell a single sound unless you say I can.”

His mother nodded at him encouragingly, so he continued. “I died.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. “We’ve gone over that. But, you're back.” 

He still hadn’t crossed the line, he could still go back…

“He shook his head. “You don’t understand. I died. I felt my life slip away. I thought—I was so excited to finally rest.”

“Percy—”

“I died in the year 2019 at New Rome University crossing a stupid road. You were there Annabeth,” he said to her. “We were supposed to meet for lunch.”

“Percy?” Annabeth asked. “What on earth are you talking about? We’ve never—”

“I bought you daisies,”

She raised an eyebrow. “I hate daisies, Jackson..”

He smiled. “I know

Chapter Text

Percy had experienced many crazy and random things in his life. He’d time traveled, killed giants, and monsters alike and yet, somehow, the hardest thing he’d ever done was actually talk about it. He could feel his heart hammering so loudly in his chest they could probably hear it all the way across the pond. His hands were slick with sweat, and he felt himself growing colder as anxiety took root in the deepest parts of himself.

The loudest thing in the room was the screeching of the sofa’s wires as his mother relaxed into the seat. They were like nails on a chalkboard, sending a chill down his spine and raising the hairs on his arms. Estelle tapped her little foot anxiously on the wood, and he held back a flinch each time her light up sketchers hit the wood. 

He sat on the stained sofa, his fingers interlaced behind his neck, massaging the muscles which refused to relax. He watched the sunlight dance across the warped wooden floor. The light poured in like golden syrup filling every crevice with its amber glow. Gold like the color of Kronos eyes who was probably trying to reform at that very moment. 

Percy chose his words carefully. He only had one chance to explain to everyone what happened–one chance to really make them understand just how big of a shit show his life really was. He’d never really talked about his life before. He didn’t talk about it to his friends, to his mother, and not even to Annabeth. It was just something he didn’t discuss–something he didn’t even try to think about. He knew the moment he did, he would never be able to stop. He would find himself trapped in the horrors of his memories. Every day he would be in that junkyard where Bianca died, or walking through Tartarus, or holding up the sky, or blowing up Mount St. Helens, or…Every toy action figure would bring him to tears, every knife would send fear through his body, every dip of water enough to drive him mad. 

He couldn’t dwell on it. All he could do was move forward.

“I need you to understand,” Percy said, before he continued. “I don’t understand it. I can’t make sense of it, because it's impossible—should be impossible. It doesn’t make sense, but I guess nothing ever has.”

His life was just one revolving door of impossibilities. 

His mother grabbed his hand, and the feel of her warmth, the familiarity of her skin centered him for a moment. “It’s okay, Percy. We’ll listen.”

“Let me put Estelle to bed,” Paul said. “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed the little girl's hand and scooped her up into his arms. Immediately, the little girl buried her head into her father's shoulders, her wide eyes staring at him. She gave him a small little wave and Percy sheepishly waved back as she disappeared with his stepfather into another room. 

No one spoke until Paul came back into the room, his hair looking slightly disheveled like his sister had grabbed ahold of it and never let go.

The man sat next to his mother and wrapped an arm around her shoulders pulling her in close to him. His mother melted into him immediately. Her head rested on his shoulder, and it was like they were made for each other–two puzzle pieces connecting perfectly. The sight made him feel warm inside. Despite everything that had happened his mother still was given the second chance she deserved.

He had to look away from them, he had always thought that one day he would have the opportunity to settle down himself. He wanted to raise a child and give them the childhood he never had. He knew his mother tried, but when he wasn’t getting hit by Gabe, he was getting made fun of on the playground for being different and surviving constant threats to his life. 

Percy was going to die one day. Mostly likely he would be young, probably in his early twenties. He’d never see his hair gray or watch his skin get more and more wrinkles as the years moved by quicker and quicker. He’d never get married, or see his sister slowly fall in love and maybe get married one day herself.

There were so many things he’d never get to experience. Which was odd considering he was just a boy who had already experienced far too much. It hurt, he had to admit. But everything in his life hurt. He’d just gotten used to pretending it didn’t.

“I died at nineteen years old,” he said, holding his breath.

That was it, he had finally done it. He had crossed the line, and it was too late to turn back now.  

He took a breath before he spoke again. “And then suddenly I woke up almost seven years later in the body of my twelve-year-old self like 7 years hadn’t happened at all.”

He watched them expectantly, waiting for some type of reaction. He’d expected them to tell him he was crazy, to yell at him and ask him to stop lying. Some part of him wanted them to scream and yell at him and tell him what a horrible person he was. But what he didn’t expect was nothing. They just stared at him, their faces blank and their eyes almost dead inside

He continued. If he didn’t get it out now, he wasn’t sure if he ever would. “Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood. I could start at any point in my short and miserable life to prove it, but things really started to go bad when I was twelve years old, and my 6th grade class took a trip to Manhattan. You’ve heard this, but a fury attacked me accusing me of stealing a bolt I didn’t take. I fled to camp, and everything went to shit.”

“Language,” his mother scolded, and Percy cracked a smile.

“I went on a quest to get his bolt back, just like you remember, Annabeth,” Annabeth looked up at him and flinched at her name but said nothing. She folded her hands in her lap and stared at him expectantly. “But things were different the first time around. Luke didn’t go on the quest, I did . I didn’t fall into Tartarus, and we were able to get the bolt back to Zeus easily.”

“Things only got worse from there. When I was thirteen, Grover got his searcher’s license and went missing. He wasn’t trying to get married, but of course Polyphemus didn’t know that.”

 I’m his mind he saw Grover running through streets in a wedding dress, a cyclops running after him to drag him down the aisle. 

"To make matters worse, Thalia’s tree was dying, and the barrier around camp was falling. Monsters were attacking camp and there wasn't anything stopping them from coming and killing us all. and we had to go to the sea of monsters to find the only thing that could save her–the golden fleece.”

“Thalia’s tree?” Annabeth asked. “What are you—who are you—”

Percy nodded and continued on. “Gods, the sea of monsters. It was so long ago, and I was young. At the time, I thought it would be the hardest time of my life. I thought Polyphemus would be the most dangerous thing I’d ever have to face. But I was wrong.”

He’d face far greater and deadlier things before the end.

The giant crumbled from the top down: his head, his chest, and finally, his legs collapsed. When they reached the wreckage they searched frantically, yelling Bianca's name. They crawled around in the vast hollow pieces and the legs and the head. They searched until the sun started to rise, but no luck.

“Percy—” Annabeth said. “I don’t think…”

He shook the memory from his brain focusing on his breathing and getting the words out quickly. “Please let me finish.” She closed her mouth quickly. 

“We saved Thalia, and the camp was safe, but that was only just the beginning. A year later, you were kidnapped by Atlas, and so was the goddess Artemis. Annabeth, you were forced to hold up the sky. We got to you with the help of Artemis's Hunters but not before I got trapped under the sky and Zoe, one of Artemis’s hunters was killed.” Percy purposely left out the existence of Nico and Bianca.  This time he would save them from a world of suffering–neither of them would have to take on the burden of the great prophecy. 

"Zoe—" he said.

"Stars," she whispered. "I can see the stars again, my lady."

A tear trickled down Artemis's cheek. "Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight."

"Stars," Zoe repeated. Her eyes fixed on the night sky. And she did not move again

“A year after that we knew war was inevitable. It was only a matter of time. Luke wanted to use the Labyrinth to get into camp undetected, and he succeeded.”

The memories flooded through his brain like a hurricane, and he couldn’t stop them from pouring out. He saw his mother disintegrate to dust. 

  But he just stood there, frozen in fear, as the monster charged her. She tried to sidestep, as she’d told him to do, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.

 “Mom!”

 She caught his eyes, managed to choke out one last word: “Go!”

He left out all the things that hurt too much to say. He didn’t mention Calypso. He didn’t mention his relationship with Annabeth, or how much he truly came to understand Luke in the end. He didn’t mention how he felt like a complete failure when Bianca and Zoe died. He didn’t mention the pain and regrets that flooded through him every single day. 

Some things were meant only for him. Maybe that was his punishment for failing in so many ways. 

But he told them everything else. He talked about the Labyrinth and about Grover finding Pan. He told them about the battle at camp and the people that had died there. He mentioned Charlie because he was the only one left to mourn him. He told them of the bravery of a mortal girl, and of the heartache of a mother waiting for a son who would never return. 

He told them of prophecies and legends and things that he still couldn’t believe had happened. He told them about a mortal girl who flung a plastic hairbrush at a Titan. He told them of a young girl from Aphrodite who helped them all in the end. He talked about Luke…and the choice he made that day on Olympus. The choices they had both made to bring them to that moment.

He froze before he spoke his next words. It was only the comforting hand of his mother that pulled him back to the earth. 

“A child of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds and see the world in endless sleep; a hero's soul cursed blade shall reap. A single choice shall end his days; Olympus preserve or raze.” The prophecy burned on his lips, and he shivered just thinking of that night on Olympus where he had given the dagger to Luke.

Annabeth’s eyes grew wide at the prophecy. “I’ve heard that prophecy before, but it’s different somehow.”

"As long as it doesn't end in my death resounding in legends, I really don't care. " He guessed the prophecy was right in a way. His death had resounded, but he hadn't actually died, everyone just though he did. Percy didn’t really want to know how different the prophecy could possibly be at that moment. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

“All of my life people had been telling me that I was special—I was the boy either destined to save or destroy Olympus. You can’t imagine what that does to someone. But, in the end, the choice was so simple that not even the gods could have known. All I had to do was give Luke a knife.”

They were silent after he finished. He didn’t mention anything that happened after. How on earth could he explain that the roman gods existed too? More information might just blow up their minds. 

“I time traveled,” he said. “And everything I had ever done was erased in a second. The battle of Manhattan never happened. I never fought Kronos–never became the child of the prophecy.  It's like nothing ever happened. Everything I sacrificed, everyone I've lost, none of it matters anymore.” If it ever did matter. 

“You time traveled?” Paul said, looking like he had seen a ghost. Percy would have laughed if the man didn’t look so concerned for him.

“Yeah,” 

“You traveled in time?” Paul said again. “Really?”

“Unfortunately,”

“Time travel?” Paul said again, his voice getting higher and higher each time he asked it. “Like that dude with the blue box”

“The what now?” His mother slapped Paul on the shoulder, and he quickly shut his mouth. 

“Percy,” Annabeth said. “Time travel isn’t possible.”

“But it is,” he said. “I know what happened to me. How else do you explain all of the weird knowledge I had as a twelve-year-old? I’ve thought of every other possibility. There is only one explanation.”

“You don’t understand Percy,” she said, more serious than he had ever seen her. She stood up from the couch, the floor creaking and began to pace.  “Time travel isn’t possible. I think there is something else going on–”

“I’m not crazy, Annabeth,” he said. This is why he hadn’t wanted to tell them. He should have known they would think he was crazy—he should have known. Oh gods.

“I don’t think you're crazy, Percy,” she said. “But I don’t think everything is how you think it is.”

“Then what else could have happened, Annabeth?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and began to pace even quicker. She stopped abruptly, staring at Percy like she was seeing for the first time. 

“Whose Thalia?”

 Percy laughed, because maybe Percy wasn’t the crazy one after all. “Thalia? Thalia grace? Daughter of Zeus? Ringing any bells?”

“Daughter of Zeus?” she asked, and Percy realized she wasn’t kidding. She looked at Percy with a blank expression and no recollection of Thalia. 

But how could she forget Thalia? They had known each other for years. What had Percy done to screw up everything so terribly. 

Annabeth shook her head. “I’ve never met someone with that name, Percy.”

“What no,” he said. “That’s not possible. You met her before I came to camp. There is no way my traveling back in time would have changed any of that. Thalia exists, she has too.”

Percy could practically see the wheels turning in the girl's head. She was connecting dots, pulling things together like twine strings in macrame. 

“Time travel isn’t possible, Percy,” she said again. 

“Annabeth,” Paul said, and Percy was ashamed to say that he had forgotten completely that his mother and Paul were there. They both were listening, thankfully willing to let Annabeth and himself speak. 

Percy was scared. Because if it wasn’t time travel what else could it be? Something worse? What was worse than traveling back in time?

“There have been things that haven’t made sense to me for a while, Percy,” she said. “I knew something was different about you. It was honestly so obvious. It was because it never really made sense. Chiron said you were this small, meek person before you came to camp, and so did Grover.”

Percy laughed at that, no one had ever called him meek before. Not even as a child could he be considered timid or shy. 

“I’m not joking,” Annabeth said, and it only made him laugh harder.

“Annabeth, what are you talking about? I’m many things but I doubt anyone would ever describe me as being meek. I got into way too much trouble as a kid.”

His mother raised an eyebrow at him and leaned forward to look at Percy – her hands resting on her knees. “Percy, you were always a terrified little kid. Scared of your own shadow.”

“What are you talking about? I used to replace Gabe’s sugar with salt as a kid, and I even fired a cannon at a school bus.”

“You did what?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow, and tilting her head. 

“Not important,” he said, and waved it away with his hands.  “Trust me, I've always been a troublemaker.”

“Percy you never got a single detention—” his mother said. 

“What are you all talking about?” he asked. “This doesn’t—”

“Percy,” Annabeth said, connecting the dots when he hadn’t been able to connect them for so long. Her eyes landed right on his eyebrows, and it was like the secrets of the universe were suddenly given to her all at once.  “The scar.”

“What scar are you talking about?”

“Oh my god,” his mother gasped. Her eyes were just as wide at Annabeth and she stood up, knocking over a pillow on the sofa. 

He couldn't shake the growing nervousness in his gut — the overwhelming feeling that everything was so completely wrong. 

His mother walked slowly towards him, her eyes scanning every single inch of his body. She gently put her hands on his shoulder, as if he was going to run away at any moment. 

“Time travel isn’t possible,” Annabeth said again. “Not even Kronos would be able to send someone back in time. What's done is done, there is no going back. You can’t go back to the past because it’s dead and gone.”

The idea was preposterous. What else could it possibly be? Was she about to tell him that it was all fake? Everything he had seen so far was just an illusion of sorts and he was about to wake up from some terrible nightmare back at New Rome?

“Then what exactly happened?” he asked. “Explain it to me.”

“The scar, Percy,” she said. “You don’t have the scar.”

“Maybe it just went away with time. People grow out of things you know?” Except Percy knew they didn’t. He remembered Jason who had eaten a stapler as a kid and still had the thin scar to prove it. he thought of all the small scare that laced his body from quest after the other. 

“You know you didn’t just grow out of it,” she said. “You aren’t timid. You don’t have a scar, and I’ve never even heard of someone named Thalia before.”

Oh gods, no. It couldn’t be. It really couldn’t be. 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. 

“Thalia may exist. But not here. Not in this universe.”

END OF PART II

Chapter Text

Percy felt like someone had taken his body, snatched it from his bed, and dropped it inside the weirdest sci-fi movie of all time. Knowing the gods, this was exactly what happened, and they were sitting on Olympus with buckets of popcorn watching all the shit in his life go wrong. Somewhere, Ares was laughing maniacally about what happened, while Mr. D and Hera were making bets when he’d crack under the pressure. He could picture them now, trading Drachmas as everything unfolded. 

Annabeth and Percy were silent the entire way back to camp. Annabeth kept shooting him looks that looked something close to pity and…fear the whole time. It did little to calm his nerves and instead made him want to drive the car into a ditch and finally (hopefully) go to Elysium. 

The worst thing had been the moments after Annabeth figured it out. His mother could only stare at him, realizing he was in fact not the child she had raised. Some part of him hoped that the woman would kick him out of the house for taking the place of her child. It might make things far easier and less complicated. 

Instead, Sally Jackson being the incredible woman that she was, simply pulled him into a hug, and they both sobbed. Percy melted into his arms, his head fell to her shoulder, and he released everything he’d been holding in since the moment he was taken from his world only technically what felt like two weeks ago. 

He’d broken away from her unwillingly, peeling his arms away from her and taking a step back to calm himself. Instead of kicking him out, she held his hand and told him that it didn’t matter who he was, she would love him anyways. Gods, how had he been so lucky to have her as a mother? In every universe, Sally Jackson was a queen among women.

He watched the trees pass them and smiled when he saw a dryad wave at them as he drove through Jersey. She melted back into the trees just as quickly as she saw him, her skin becoming bark, and her hair turning into leaves. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Annabeth asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a backbiter. Honestly, he preferred backbiter to the truth. He really didn’t want to talk about anything much less than the giant elephant in the room. 

“You know talking helps,” she said, and Percy tightened his hands on the steering wheel. It was kind of her to ask about him, but he’d much rather brood in peace. “Trust me,” she continued on. “It isn’t good if you hold it all in. You might just explode.”

“Annabeth,” he snapped. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” Much less to you, he almost added. But that was unnecessarily cruel. 

“Sorry, I asked,” she said, and turned her head back to the window. Gods, that was unnecessary, if he wanted to be her friend he wasn’t doing a good job at it.”

“I want to know what happened to Percy.  I mean the other Percy,” he said, his vocal cords speaking louder than his brain. “If I’m here, does that mean that kid took my place?” He didn’t want to know what the seven would make of 12-year-old Percy. Chiron would probably quit if he had to do with eight more years of him, and Zeus would probably smite him just for the fun of it. 

Annabeth shrugged, turning back to look at him, but this time far more guarded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“I hope he’s not in my place,” Percy said. “That world…If he’s as timid and sweet as everyone described him as, he wouldn't last two weeks in my world. It would chew him up and spit him out.”

“Is it that bad?” Annabeth asked, her voice strangely quiet.

“Worse,” he said. “I didn’t tell you everything, Annabeth. I can’t. There are some things that can’t be told–they can only be lived and shared.”

“I know, I haven’t been exactly kind to you, Percy,” she said, and Percy could only look at her weirdly. “Pride is my fatal flaw, you know?”

He smiled to himself, thinking about the past. “Yeah, I know.”

“But I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy,” she said. “Percy, I’m—”

“I’m glad I’ve graduated from your worst enemy list,”

She smirked, a playful smile on her face.  “Just barely. You're barely tolerable.” For a small moment, he wondered if the two of them might be friends. Maybe, he might be able to make some sort of place for himself in this strange new world, until he got home. 

He was still hoping that this meant he might be able to get home. Before, the possibility was zero. But now? Now he hoped there might be some possibility for him to get back. 

“That kid,” Percy said. “Has no idea what he’s in for.”

Annabeth was quiet for a moment and had her deep-thinking face on. She’d squish her skin together right between her nose, and she’d begin to chew on her nails. It was something he hadn’t noticed about her until they were far older and by then the habit had already stuck for good. 

“What if he isn’t there Percy?” She said, “I mean what if he’s dead. Maybe the reason why you could pass into the world was because he died.”

Percy didn’t want to admit that he had been thinking the same thing. He remembered something Thanatos had said right before he left Tartarus. “ I’m not going to pull you to Hades. The fates would kill me if I did after all the trouble, they went through to find you.”

Why would the fates make such an effort to find him if something hadn’t gone terribly wrong? 

He kept his eyes on the road, his hands tightening on the hot leather steering wheel. “I think he’s gone, Annabeth.” He said. He didn’t think, he was sure of it. “I think…I think he died, and the fates panicked because there was no one here to fulfill their great big prophecy. So, they brought me here.” Percy didn’t mean to sound bitter but of course he did anyway. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Something Thanatos said to me in Tartarus. I can’t be positive, but I wouldn’t be shocked.”

Annabeth looked at him like he had grown a second head. “You talked to Thanatos? Death? You talked to literal death?”

Oh, had he not mentioned that? Oops? It probably wasn’t the best time to tell Annabeth he’d talked to him before while trying to free him from prison. 

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Also talked to Achilles and my old camp director, and a really weird zombie mutant thing. Surprisingly, the zombie was the nicest of all of them.”

“I don’t think I even want to know,” she said. “The next thing you’ll tell me is you’ve met Hercules.”

“I mean,” he said, cringing. “His name is Heracles, and he’s an asshole.”

She glared at him. “Oh, shut up.”

They fell back into a comfortable silence, not nearly as awkward as the one before. Percy moved his hand to the radio and turned it on to the latest hits. Oddly enough, Percy didn’t recognize any of them. Were songs even different in the universe too?

“Oh,” Annabeth said. “I love this song. Justin Guarini, is one of the only good American idol winners.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Justin got second place. Kelly Clarkson won.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Seriously?” he asked. “Kelly Clarkson? Since you’ve been gone?”

“I thought Avril Lavine sang that song.”

Oh no… Absolutely not.

Percy could handle a lot of things, but a world where Kelly Clarkson didn’t exist was too much. Percy groaned. Of all the things to be different in this universe. He couldn’t even protect Kelly Clarkson from the fates.

“Hey Jackson,” Annabeth said, smiling to herself.

“What?” he asked, snapping. “What terrible news do you have to tell me? Let me guess, not even Elvis or Taylor Swift exists here? You’re going to tell me Harambe or Kanye actually won the presidency?”

“Percy, I’m kidding,” she said. “Of course, I know who Kelly Clarkson is.”

He froze, and honestly and truly debated driving the car off a cliff.

“I hate you.”

When he arrived at camp, the first thing he did was move all of his things into the Poseidon cabin since his father had claimed him up on Olympus. When he opened the doors, he was greeted with the familiar smell of salty sea water and seaweed. It calmed him for a moment and tethered him back to reality. 

He could almost imagine Tyson in the cabin with him, as they told ridiculous jokes to each other before bed. He wondered how his brother was doing. He hadn’t seen him at camp yet, and Percy had to admit he was terrified for the boy. 

Reluctantly, he left the calm of his cabin, and walked to where all the campers were gathered around the bonfire. He filled him with memories of far simpler times when he only had to worry about getting the last marshmallow before Will Solace ate them all. He smiled at that -- despite his thievery, the boy always ended up saving Percy a Marshmallow and chocolate bar.

He watched all the campers at the bonfire, taking in each and every one of them. Annabeth sat far away from him, close to her siblings that looked so much like her. Their relationship was rocky at best, and Percy wasn’t really sure how he could go and fix it. She tolerated him, but at least she was kind and considerate. After the car ride back to camp and everything that had happened at his mom’s he hoped they might be able to see eye to eye. But only time could tell. 

All the campers looked peaceful and happy despite everything that had happened to them. Clarisse was smiling with her siblings, and Chiron was trying to stop Michael Yew from shooting an arrow at an apple on top of Will Solace's head. Mr. D was leaning on a camp chair, drinking a diet coke with one of those swirly straws they give kids at restaurants.  He was shocked to see Piper Mclean and Leo Valdez chatting with each other and eating s'mores by the fire.  It shattered his heart and made it fall out to the forest floor in pieces. Little did everyone at the camp know that four of the seven demigods were at camp. Annabeth, Piper, Leo, and Percy. All they were missing were the Romans.

Percy just watched his former friends for a moment as they chatted away carefree. He'd never seen them like that. Not even after the war with Gaea did they look that happy. Piper laughed at something stupid Leo said, and for a moment he could almost pretend that Jason was with them. It didn't seem right that he wasn't

Tentatively, Percy sat next to them. Both of them raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing, and instead turned back to each other chatting away. They both glanced at each other as if to say, what the hell are we supposed to do now.

“It’s Piper,” Percy said. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she said, surprised he was talking to her. “You're Percy, right? You were the kid we did the makeover on.”

“That’s me,” Percy couldn’t help but notice the girl was wearing a leather necklace with three beads on them. What had happened to make her come back to camp so early? 

“Why exactly did you need a makeover?” Leo asked, earning a slap on the shoulder from Piper. She shot him a death glare that even Annabeth would be jealous of.

“Sorry,” he whined. “I just heard some younger campers mention they found you in the woods. I was curious.”

“It’s okay,” Percy said. “I would be curious too. I wasn’t exactly the most pleasant of people when I came here.”

“The insensitive one with lots of questions is Leo,” Piper said, gesturing to the boy that Percy honestly had a complicated relationship with. It was terrible to admit, but he never really liked Leo Valdez. The first time he met him, he had tried to blow up New Rome, and when Percy had put it past them, the boy had yelled at him for what happened to Calypso. Percy was hoping that this time would be different. He wanted to wipe the slate clean and have a second chance with the kid.

"You guys' new campers?' he asked them.

Piper shook her head. "No, I've been here for two years. Leo's been here for one." Right, that probably would have been around the same time Percy had traded places with Jason. He was surprised the two hadn't come together. 

Percy heard the grass crunching behind him and turned around to see Annabeth right behind them. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Piper smiled at her. “Go on ahead.”

“This kid isn’t bothering you,” Annabeth asked, jokingly, breaking the awkwardness. “He has a habit of getting on people's nerves.”

“Oh,” Percy said. “We must have something in common then.” She scrunched up her nose, and rolled her eyes, before planting herself on the ground next to them. 

“So,” Leo said. “Who exactly are you? I mean, we don’t even know who your godly parent is.” Piper slapped Leo on the shoulder again, and he hissed holding his arm. “What the hell Piper?” he asked. 

“You don’t just go around asking people that, Leo,” she said. “He might not even know.”

Percy looked at Annabeth for some guidance. Should he tell them who his father was or would make everything just more complicated? 

He really wanted to keep his head down while he was at camp and not draw too much attention to himself. But that wouldn’t work if everyone knew he was. 

Annabeth shrugged her shoulders and Percy knew she was saying that the choice was up to him. He could or could not tell them who his father was. It was completely up to him.

He wanted to start on the right feet with Piper and Leo. Something told him that it was beyond important for them to trust him. He’d probably need them and all the seven if he wanted to survive whatever was going to happen next. 

He sighed deeply and picked at the grass by his feet. “My dad’s Poseidon.”

Almost immediately the two looked shocked. Leo’s mouth dropped open almost comically, and Piper’s eyes widened. “Your dad is—”

“Yup, the guy who creates tsunamis when he’s had a bad day.”

“You mean—” Leo said. “You're a child of the big three? I didn’t think any existed. I mean…we’ve all heard a rumor that there used to be one at camp, but he died on a quest.”

“Yeah,” Percy said, hating where this conversation was going. “He didn’t die. That was unfortunately me.”

“You?” Leo said. “That was you?”

Both Leo and Piper turned to Annabeth who was smiling to herself, she shrugged her shoulders as if it was common to meet a child of the big three every single day. 

“I’m going to go get some food,” Percy said, standing up and brushing the grass off his pants. “Do you guys need anything?”

Both of them shook their heads, still looking completely astounded. 

“I’ll go with you,” Annabeth said, and stuck her hand out.

He stared at her hand for a second. Why exactly was she offering it to him? Was she hiding a snake in it or something? What is a poisonous pit scorpion that would kill him in seconds? Was it bad that he hoped it was?

“Aren’t you going to help me up, Jackson?” she asked, looking at her hand then back to him. 

“Oh right,” he said, and took her hand. The moment he touched her, he felt his face redden, and he couldn’t help but think about how he used to do a lot more than just hold her hand. 

He pulled her up from the ground, and Annabeth smirked at him. "Thanks, Kelp head.”

He groaned. She really had to stop calling him that. “Be back soon,” Annabeth told Leo and Piper. “I need a drink.”

They walked away from the two, and the moment they were out of earshot, Annabeth said something that quite honestly shocked him, and he had been shocked a lot in his life.

“Do you like Piper or something?” Annabeth asked.  “I mean, I get it. Out of all the Aphrodite kids, she’s probably the smartest.”

“What?” 

“Do you like Piper?” she asked again. “It's just that I noticed you went out of your way to talk to her and Leo. You haven't done the same for anyone else.” She was silent for a moment as if trying to figure it out. “In your universe did you two date or something? I get it. You know?”

“What?”

“Did I stutter?”

“What?  No. No, absolutely not,” he said. “Trust me dating is the last thing on my mind at the moment.”

“Right,” she said, and kept walking to the table filled with refreshments. Percy didn’t touch any of them. He would have been surprised if the drinks had been spiked by the Apollo kids. Annabeth didn’t seem to mind, and poured herself a glass of something that looked like fruit punch, but Percy knew it wasn't.

“You?” he asked almost like an afterthought and then mentally hit himself. Gods, he was an idiot. “I mean, are you dating anyone in this universe?

Annabeth raised and took a sip of the drink. “I don’t have the time. I’ve never really thought about it, I guess.”

“Right,” Percy said. “Yeah, I understand. Who does with the whole war thing, and everything. And I never dated Piper. We were friends, I guess.” What did you call someone that goes on a world altering quest with you? “I knew her boyfriend Jason better before he…well before he died.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I haven’t really processed his death, I guess. Haven’t had a lot of time. He died a week before I was flung into another universe. He was a good friend. You would have liked him a lot. He was a son of J…Zeus.”

“There’s a lot of kids of the big three in your world,” she noticed.

“Yeah,” he said, picking at the grass. “Look what good it did them.” Bianca, Jason, and Thalia didn’t even exist. What did that mean for Nico and Bianca? He really hoped that somewhere out in the universe the two of them were together and happy.

“You know,” she said. “If you ever need someone to talk to about it, I’m here. I won’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, but it might be nice for you to talk about it.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Little did she know she was the last person he ever considered wanting to talk about it. It’s not like he could tell her she was his lover in another universe.

Percy wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was the campfire, the light dancing on Annabeth’s skin. The fire reflected in her gray eyes, making it hard to look away.  Maybe it was her sincerity and she looked like she really wanted to help. But, for one small moment, all he wanted to do was kiss her. 

He shook his head and turned away from her quickly. Gods, no he couldn’t think like that. He had to get back home to his Annabeth. He needed to see her again. He didn’t have time to think about things like that. He just missed her so badly. He missed everyone so much.

“You okay, Percy?” Annabeth said behind him. 

No, he was not okay, and he wasn’t going to be until he got back home.

Percy was about to say something, when the world turned red. All at once, he heard campers screaming as the campfire seemed to explode- red, and orange filling the night sky--smoke billowing upwards like dark rain clouds.  Fire went flying everywhere, landing on camp chairs, and turning them to ash. All around them, campers ran around in pandemonium, panic flooding through the camp.

"Annabeth," he screamed. "Get down." As a fire ball went hurtling towards them. He pushed her to the ground, just as a ball of fire landed where they'd just been standing moments before. 

He landed on Annabeth harshly and she let out a small yelp, and they landed. The grass was scorched, and Percy hated to imagine what would have happened if they hadn't moved quickly enough. 

"You, okay?" he said down towards her.

Her eyes were wide, but she nodded slowly, and Percy check over her to make sure she wasn't hurt.

He reached for her hand, pulling her up. "Let's figure out what the hell just happened."

Chapter Text

This new reality completely sucked. It was even worse than his own, he’d come to realize. At least back home he knew what to expect and who everyone was. Now, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Meryl Streep herself came out of nowhere telling everyone she was actually the goddess of bad movie singing. 

The campers screamed like ghosts trapped in hell. All at once, the once peaceful campers broke out into pandemonium as the bonfire exploded. Orange and red flames went flying everywhere, turning wooden picnic tables and chairs to ashes in seconds. 

For a moment, there was a sharp ringing in his ears, and when he looked down, Annabeth's form was a blur of colors all mixing together. He tried to reorient himself, narrowing his eyes to try and see through the swirls. 

“Are you okay Annabeth?” he asked the girl he had shoved to the ground. He looked where they had been standing only moments before and was shocked to see the grass had been blackened by the flames. 

Annabeth groaned, her eyes growing wide in shock. “Percy,” Annabeth said, wincing. “I think my arm is broken.” 

Percy looked down and sure enough, Annabeth's arm was bent at a strange angle. He could already see a dark bruise forming. At least it was her left arm and not her right. She probably wouldn't know what to do with herself if she couldn't threaten him with a knife everyday

He helped her back up from the ground, putting one arm around her back and the other on her uninjured arm. “I’m okay,” Annabeth said. “I can stand by myself. I broke my arm, not my legs.”

Percy took a step back, he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding onto her for dear life. “Sorry,” he grimaced. 

She smiled slightly. “We need to get these fires out.”

Percy looked around, and ducked when a burning piece of coal went flying overhead. “Yeah, that would probably be a good id—”

He felt a rough push on his chest, and suddenly Percy was flying backwards, landing on the ground hard. 

For one short second, he was shocked, coughing from the pressure on his chest. But, he quickly scrambled up, when he saw Annabeth lying on the ground. 

“Annabeth” he yelled, scrambling to her. “Why the hell would you do that?” It didn’t take a genius to realize Annabeth had pushed him out of the way. She’d probably saved his life. 

“I don’t know,” she squealed out. “But you…Oh gods.” 

Sure enough her once broken arm was now snapped in half. She must have landed on it when they fell, because her bone had broken jaggedly, tearing through her flesh. Blood poured freely from her arm, and he pulled her up from the ground immediately, finding cover behind an overturned table. He still wasn’t sure what had happened. The bonfire was still spouting flames like a fountain of fire. Even from far away he could feel its heat on his skin. 

Why the hell had she knocked him out of the way? He would have been fine! Far better off than she looked anyways.

“There’s something wrong with my foot, Percy,” she said. He looked down and her ankle was black and blue already. He hoped it was just a bad sprain. 

Carefully, he wrapped one arm around her waist, and wrapped her good arm around his shoulder. He hoisted her up with a small groan. 

There wasn’t anywhere that wasn’t completely on fire. He had to get Annabeth safe before he could do anything. Luckily, right by the lake there was an overturned chariot. The imperial gold it was made of glittered in the fire light, and offered them some protection. 

He walked her towards an overturned chariot by the lake, and sat Annabeth back down, dodging a bit of fire, and looked at the wound. Gods, it was terrible. It would take weeks for it to heal even with ambrosia and nectar. 

Quickly, he ripped off the bottom of his shirt, and wrapped it around Annabeth's arm, macgyvering a tourniquet to stop some of the bleeding. It wouldn’t do much if she didn’t get some medical treatment soon, but it was better than nothing. 

Annabeth, much to her credit, didn't let out a single sound as he tightened the cloth. When he was done with his work, he took a chance to look over the safety of the chariot. 

“You're good at this,” she observed. Even through the pain, Annabeth seemed to be sizing him up. It was as if he was still some large mystery she couldn’t unravel. 

Percy ignored her and tightened the makeshift tourniquet. He then started to work on her ankle. He grabbed two thick pieces of wood from a nearby tree, and placed it on either side of her foot for support,  tying it tightly with more of his shirt. It was a good thing he wasn’t attached to it. 

Percy chanced a look over the chariot. People were still screaming, and if Percy didn’t do something and fast, the whole camp would probably be cinders in a few minutes. He looked down at Annabeth who was pale beyond all belief now, looking like she might collapse at any moment. He couldn’t leave her, not if he could do something to help her. 

“It’s okay,” Annabeth said, as if she was reading his mind. “I’ll be fine. Do what you have to do.”

“Annabeth, your arm is snapped in half.

“Really?” She said, “I couldn’t tell.”

“You’ll be okay?” he asked, giving her hand a small squeeze. 

She nodded. “I’ll be fine, kelp head. Now, go.”

Percy didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed himself off the ground, and immediately had to jump out of the way to not get hit. The person next to him, a camper he didn’t recognize, hadn't been as lucky, and was hit in the chest, his body going up in flames.

Not waiting a moment, Percy focused in on an orange cooler of water, and pulled it towards him. Now, when he controlled the water it was like second nature. He didn’t even feel a tug in his stomach, he just commanded it, and it listened to him. He doused the poor boy in water, sending steam flooding up through the air.

He dodged another fireball, and pulled all of the water around him –from the trees and plants and made a wall stopping it from hitting him. While he dodged the waves of fire, he used all the strength he had to put out the fires around him. But, just when he stopped one from spreading, another popped up in its place. 

Thankfully, the other campers had begun to form a type of telephone line, to put out the fires. They dodged the dodgeballs from hell, while they ran with buckets of water. He heard a flute playing behind him and turned to see a line of satyrs playing their pan flutes, willing the fire back into nature. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chiron rushing campers to safety, an injured camper on his back. Mr. D was throwing diet coke cans into the fire which he wasn’t sure was helping or making it worse. Unfortunately, the coke did nothing, and the fires continued to grow. 

For a moment, he panicked. If they didn’t get everything under control everything was finished. He narrowed his eyes at the source of flames, the bonfire where they had all been roasting marshmallows over minutes before. 

The bonfire seemed to take on a life of its own. It almost seemed to breathe as if it was a living entity the heart of it moving up and down like a chest.  

He began to move even more - colagulating as one solid entity. The fire had begun to take form until he could make out the outline of a dragon. It was so realistic, he could see scales, sharp teeth and razor claws ready for shredding. What in Hades' name was this? In all of his life, he’d never seen something so weird or terrifying before. What was even more odd was this was the second time he had seen a dragon. Hadn’t the camp been attacked by one before?

He almost laughed. It looked like a fucking Charizard. That is, if Charizard was the size of a house and was made of fire. Someone had a strange sense or amazing sense of humor. He wasn’t sure at the moment. 

 The dragon began to walk, marching straight towards a camper. Its steps shook the earth, sending dirt and rocks up into the air as he moved.  His heart stopped when he realized who the camper was. 

“Piper!” he said, a blood curdling scream tearing through his throat. “Move!”

He watched in slow motion as Piper was frozen. Her body couldn’t move as the dragon moved towards her. 

“Piper!” he screamed again. She snapped out of her reverie finally hearing his pleas. But it was too late, already the dragon was opening its mouth to rain down death. 

If it wasn’t for Leo, Piper would have died. He stepped in front of Piper, taking the brunt of the force. If Percy didn’t know Leo was fireproof, he would have panicked when the dragon opened its mouth.

For a moment, Percy couldn’t see either of his former friends—they were completely engulfed in flames. But, when the dust settled, and the flames were gone, both stood there completely unharmed. 

Percy felt himself breathe. 

They were alive.

They were alive.

They were alive. 

With renewed energy, Percy threw everything he had at the monster. Percy raised his hand, and threw a wave of water crashing towards it with as much strength as he could muster. The dragon let out a loud roar and the sound went straight to his ear drums, and it took all his willpower to focus and not cover up his ears. He imagined it's what one of those Mandrakes from Harry Potter sounded like in real life. 

Luckily, the water did seem to work. Steam billowed into the sky in thick puffs and waves. The dragon let out a war, stopping its rampage for a few precious seconds. So, Percy began to throw what water he could and dodge before the monster would attack. It was like music in his ears, a dance perfectly perfected. 

Water, Dodge, Run, Again.

Water Dodge, Run, Again.

He tried to focus on his breathing as he darted around the dragon. Which was surprisingly hard when someone was trying to throw up fire all over you. A few times the fire was so close to him he could feel the hair on his arms burning.

Water, Dodge, Run, Again.

He did it over and over until he thought his legs might give out from the strain of it. It was like a mantra he repeated over and over. With every new wave of water, the dragon began to dissipate, losing its strange powers. 

Letting out a small scream, he threw both of his hands up, and with it a wave of water flooded from the nearby lake. He launched it at the dragon, and it disappeared with a scream (do dragons scream). All at once it was gone, taking every single flame it had created along with it. 

Percy didn't have time to relax. The moment the dragon was gone, He ran to Annabeth at full speed, pumping his arms at his side. Gods, he hoped she was okay. Please, don't be dead. 

When he saw her, he slammed down on his knees, ignoring the pain that flooded through him. If it was possible, she looked even worse than before. Her breathing was shallow, her face deathly pale, with sweat dripping down in heavy droplets. He could see blood had pooled through his makeshift tourniquet, flowing down her arm.

“Hey,” he said. “It’s okay.” He brushed a piece of her wet hair away and smiled at her. He pulled her head towards him, and he was shocked when she melted into the crook of her neck. “Just keep your eyes open, okay?” He kissed the top of her head. “We’ll get you some help.”

“I’ll be okay,” she tried to laugh, but it came out more like a grimace. "I'm fine."

“Medic!” the plea poured from his throat. “Please, I need a medic.” Percy looked around at the dozens of Apollo children running from injured camper to injured camper. There were too many campers for them to handle. Too many were injured.

He wished he had paid better attention when Will Solstice tried to teach him basic healing skills. But, of course with his ADHD none of it had stuck. 

Annabeth was looking worse as the seconds passed, her skin turning an almost ashen color. Her eyes had closed and she was no longer speaking. Gods, he wished he hadn’t forgotten his ambrosia in his cabin. 

Will Solace slammed down to the ground next to her. “What happened?” He asked, quickly getting to work. 

“She has a broken arm and ankle. I did the best I could. I stopped the bleeding on her and supported her ankle…She pushed me out of the way,” Percy said. “Saved my life.”

Will Solace nodded and quickly took a look at Percy. Right, the kid didn't know who he was. They hadn’t actually been formally introduced yet. 

“Do you have field medic experience?” he asked. He looked down at the tourniquet suspiciously. He knew no normal demigod would have been able to do what he had. “You did a good job–probably saved her life.. What are you, a son of Apollo?”

Percy almost laughed. He definitely wasn’t a child of Apollo. 

“I’m Will,” he said. The boy shoved a piece of ambrosia in Annabeth's mouth and her muscles began to slowly relax. 

“Percy,” he said. “I’m Percy.”

““I know,” he said. “Clarisse told me and my boyfriend all about you.” Boyfriend? He couldn’t possibly mean—could he? 

“If we get out of this,” he said. “You’ll have to introduce us.”

Willi nodded and wrapped her arm in an ambrosia-soaked bandage. 

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “I’ll have someone come and take her to the infirmary soon. You did a good job, Percy. Who trained you?”

“Experience is unfortunately the best teacher,” he said. 

Will nodded in understanding. “Be safe, okay. I have some more people to take care of.”

Percy nodded and watched as Will disappeared to go help all the other injured campers. Now that the fires were gone, Percy could see the full effect of the monster. The tennis courts were ash, so was the dining pavilion. The Ares cabin was now missing a roof, and the only thing left of the Aphrodite cabin was ash. He hoped no one had been inside. 

The rest of the camp was covered in a thick veil of ash, dirt and blood. The campers that were injured didn’t look much better as they coughed out blackness from their lungs. They all looked exhausted, standing up with only the strength of their will. Percy, if he was honest, didn't look or feel much better. He relaxed when he saw both Piper and Leo alive and not turned into rotisserie demi-gods. Next to them was Clarisse, who looked terrible. Her head was plastered in blood, and she had a large gash on her arm, but other than that, she was okay. 

He wasn’t a fan of fire. It was the complete opposite of water, and the very thought of it made the hairs (or what was left of the hair) stand up on his arms. 

“Percy,” a voice said, and he jumped, adrenaline still flooding through his body. He was happy to see it was Chiron and he hadn’t gone up in flames. “Let me take Annabeth to the infirmary.”

“You okay?” he asked Annabeth. She didn’t respond, her quiet breathing being the only thing to tell him she was alive. Gently so as not to hurt her anymore, he lifted her up on Chiron’s back. 

“She’ll be okay, Percy,” Chiron said. “Will told me you saved her life.”

He shrugged. “I did what anyone would have."

Chiron smiled at him wistfully. “You know that's not true. I was blind not to have seen it before, my boy.”

Percy frowned at Chiron. What on earth was the old geezer talking about? “Seen what?”

The man smiled again, before trotting off with Annabeth. Percy followed close behind, walking through the rubble of his home. How on earth they were ever going to fix this was completely beyond him. It would take them weeks that they didn’t have. 

Camp had been attacked again and that only meant one thing–Kronos was already reforming. He was sure Luke had some sort of hand in it. Who else would have been responsible. There was something odd about the attack--something that just didn't sit right with him. Whoever had attacked them had known they would be having a bonfire at that time. They had known that most of the campers would be vastly underprepared for that type of assault. 

Maybe it had been Luke. Maybe he was just reading into it, but something didn't feel right. 

He hoped he found out what was happening and soon, because he wasn't sure camp would be able to survive another attack. 

Chapter Text

The camp was a complete and utter mess. His feet crunched on stone and cinders as he walked. The smell of ash still filled his nose, and lingered on his tongue. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever forget that smell. It would linger in his mind like a dream for a long time coming. 

Cleaning up was strangely easy when you had an army of satyrs to help. Luckily, the flames hadn’t touched the forest, saving all of the sprites, and nymphs who called the trees home. In just a few short hours, they had the ash cleaned up, and already the Hephaestus cabin was working on rebuilding the defenses and the burned cabins.

When they were done cleaning the camp, it was time to burn the shrouds. Luckily, or unluckily only 3 people had died. They had all been standing too close to the bonfire when it exploded. He didn’t know any of the people that died, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Ben Evans, a son of Hermes. Stephanie Chris, a child of Aphrodite, and Lyra Black, and daughter of Ares. They were just more people on a long list of deaths he was responsible for. 

Funerals, he had come to learn, weren’t for the dead. They were for the living. Their shrouds went up in flames, sending flashes of gold, and silver into the air. Their brothers and sisters looked on in sadness. Each person grieving in their own way. Some in anger, others in tears, and others in indifference–the weight of the deaths still not hitting them. 

Percy only ever felt regret.

He tried to look on with strength, so he could be an anchor to the campers. But, there was only so much he could do when none of the campers knew who he was. 

Several of the campers clearly didn’t trust him either. They kept glaring at him, sending him looks of suspicion that reminded him too much of the first time he got to camp in another dimension when he was only twelve years old and still so young. 

Percy didn’t blame them. Only a few hours after he got to camp, the place was reduced to cinders. He’d probably not trust himself too. 

It did hurt to be back home and have no one trust him. Only a few short weeks ago, The people here had been family. Now, they had no idea who he was. And it hurt, more than anything. 

Percy left the funeral sedately, feeling even more tired than he had been before. He was exhausted, dripping in sweat and still covered in blood and ash. He could feel his exhaustion all the way in his bones. 

 He needed to escape everything—-the odd looks and whispers that seemed to follow him wherever he went. There was only one place he could go to get away from everything—-one place where no one would ever think to follow him. 

The moment he could get a break, he jumped into the lake, letting the water renew his body and strength. He scrubbed off the grime (much to the Nereids chagrin) and sat under the water for what felt like hours, just watching the fish dart across the lakebed. 

Eventually he had to pull himself up. Both Annabeth, and Clarisse were injured in the attack and as much as he wanted to stay underwater for forever, he needed to visit them. 

Percy hated infirmaries with a burning passion. Maybe it was the constant chatter—the chill in the air that barely hovered over 60 degrees or the smell of antiseptic and lemon. Maybe it was the fact that death always seemed to dance through the room.

It took him longer to get to the infirmary than normal, his feet seemed to move slowly on their own accord, but his mind moved faster than the speed of light. 

Fucking dragons. Of course, they now had to deal with freaking dragons. Because alternate dimension hopping wasn’t enough. Why not throw a giant pokemon into the mix? It didn’t escape Percy that this was not the first dragon that had attacked camp. Now, he was wondering if there were some goddesses of reptilians he didn’t know about holding a grudge. 

The place was bustling, even busier than Grand Central Station at rush hour or the last F train to Queens. Children of Apollo rushed around from patient to patient, changing gauzes and stuffing pills down campers' throats. 

He almost ran into Will, who was running around with a tray of medicines that all jangled together when he moved. 

The boy looked up, flabbergasted for a small moment, like he couldn’t believe someone would ever dare to run into him. “Oh hey, Percy. Annabeth’s over there,” He pointed over to a corner, and just as quickly as he showed up, he was running off to probably go save someone's life. 

“Thank you,” he called after the boy, but he was already gone.

Stuffed in a small alcove away from the boisterous chatter of the room was Annabeth. She was sitting up in her bed, writing something hurriedly in a small journal. She didn’t look well. Her skin was a deathly gray shade, she had dark bags under her eyes. 

But, those were the types of bags that didn’t just show up in one day. They were a tell-tale sign of weeks of exhaustion weighing heavily on somebody. How had he not noticed? Had she been wearing makeup—covering it up so nobody could see just how tired she really was?

 He couldn’t bring himself to talk to her when he was probably the root of all her stress. After all, she wouldn’t have been hurt if he had seen that fireball coming. Percy really did destroy everything he touched, didn’t he?

“She’s not gonna bite, you know?”

He was surprised to hear Clarisse come up from behind him. Her arm was bandaged, but other than that she looked fine. 

 “Have you met Annabeth?” He asked. “She’d probably kill me and dump my body in the Hudson if I annoyed her too much.”

 “You aren’t dead yet,” Clarisse said, raising an eyebrow. “Go, talk to her. She’d never admit it, but she’s been struggling. Camp depends on her to stay afloat, but what’s stopping her from drowning?”

“Who knew you were so insightful?” He asked, and ran a  hand through his hair. 

“Anyone could tell you that,” Clarisse said. “By the way, have you heard anything from Luke? No one has seen him since you appeared. I hate to admit it, but I’m worried about the guy.”

 “No,” Percy said. “I haven’t seen him.” Something inside him told him not to tell Clarisse Luke had actually betrayed them. It almost felt taboo to talk about it. 

“I’m worried about the guy,” Clarisse  continued. “Something changed in him a couple weeks ago. He had this big fight with Annabeth, and after that it was like he snapped. Before, he was always the person on the front lines, killing any monster that got in his way. We depended on him —-he was a leader.”

“He had a fight with Annabeth?”

“Yeah,” Clarisse said. “They were always fighting, but it was their worst fight yet. And now he’s gone?”

 There were warning bells going off in his head. Something wasn’t right about Luke’s disappearance. He’d thought at first it was because he was back, but now he wasn’t too sure. 

 His connection to Kronos was probably broken at that point, and Luke must have sensed that the titan was blasted into smithereens. So, why had he left, if he could just tell everybody he was processed by Kronos? 

 “Penny for your thoughts?” Clarisse said, snapping him out of his reverie. “We lost you for a moment there.”

 Percy shook his head, and tried to shove down the uncertainty to no avail. . “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry, I’ll find out what happened to Luke.”

 “Thanks,” Clarisse said. “He was a troubled guy. But, Luke was always kind. We were friends in a way.” The image of Luke and Clarisse drinking on a bench flashed through his mind. They were comrades bonded over something that no one their age should have to understand. 

 Percy took another look at Annabeth who was still scribbling in her notebook. Why was he so afraid to talk to her? He admired Clarisse and her ability to always say what was on her mind. Why couldn’t he do that when it mattered? 

“Go,” Clarisse said. “Something tells me, she wants to talk to you too.”

Percy smiled at Clarisse. “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath before he moved towards her. His shoes stuck to the recently cleaned floors, and he felt like he wanted to stay stuck there forever. 

 “Hey Annabeth,” he said, tentatively. He ran a hand through his hair again not knowing what to do with himself. “How are you feeling?”

 The moment she saw him, she shoved the book under her covers. He wondered if it was a diary or something. It really wasn’t any of his business. 

She shrugged her shoulders. “Like my arm snapped in half.”

“So you feel great then?”

“You're lucky I can’t move my arm right now.”

 Percy closed the thin plastic curtain that separated them from the rest of the room. He didn’t want to see all the pandemonium if he didn’t have to. The sound dissipated, but only slightly. There was only so much a curtain from homegoods could do. 

 “Can I sit here,” he asked gesturing to the edge of the bed

 She nodded. “Knock yourself out.” He honestly would much prefer to be unconscious at the moment. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping from his weight. There was so much weighing on Percy's chest. Dimension hopping, camp being attacked, Luke’s disappearance and Annabeth jumping in to save his life. Sometimes, he felt like his life was one giant pop quiz filed with questions he hadn’t studied for. Better yet, he was taking a test for a class on life that he had chosen to enroll in. 

His relationship with Annabeth was like the giant essay at the end. He really didn’t know what to make of it. He thought she hated him, but then she went and saved his life, hurting herself terribly in the process.  He hoped that she would hate him. It would make the questions straightforward and uncomplicated. He could do with something easy and straightforward for once in his life. 

“Thank you,” he said after a moment of silence.He wasn’t sure why it was hard to say, but the words came out anyway. “If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way…”

   “I don’t know why I did it.” She said, “It probably would have saved me a lot of trouble if I just let you die.” 

“Probably,” Percy said, laughing slightly. “Next time don’t risk your life for mine. I’m not worth it.”

He really wasn’t. He wasn’t sure why the fates kept intervening in his life. Wouldn’t it have been better for everyone if there was no prophecy? 

“Oh shut up,” she said, and hit his shoulder. “Of course you are. I’ve said it before. But, I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you lately.”

“Nah,” he said. “It’s fine. I wouldn't trust me either if I were you. You have a lot of things depending on you. You have to protect camp, and deal with the gods, and the Ares kids,” he added with a laugh. “You have a lot to protect, and I was a danger.”

“You are dangerous,” Annabeth said. “I wasn’t wrong about that. I’ve seen the way you fight. It's easy for you–almost like breathing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“Only to my enemies,” he said. She frowned for a moment, and it was like she was actually scared of him. “I’m only dangerous to my enemies, Annabeth. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” She really didn’t look too sure. 

“I—“

 She never got to finish what she was about to say. Will came in with a new glass of water. He set it down on the table next to Annabeth. 

 “Drink,” he said. “You need your fluids. Take this.” He handed her a small little red pill that looked like a tic-tac. 

Annabeth took it from him and swallowed it without any water, like a monster. 

He left without saying another word, closing the curtain quickly. Percy couldn’t remember Will ever being so weird before. But, then again, the boy looked like he was running on fumes, a monster energy drink, and some liquid IV.  

 “That poor boy needs a nap,” she said. “He’s been worried ever since his boyfriend left to visit his sister.”                  

Percy’s ears burned. Boyfriend? Gods, he hoped she meant Nico. 

“Whose his boyfriend?” He asked. “Have we met?”

 “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Nico and his sister Bianca arrived at camp after you know…died.” How could he ever forget that? “Bianca joined the hunters of Artemis. The hunters oddly enough love him, and he visits them all the time.”

 Percy could have cried at that moment. Bianca was alive. Nico was alive. He guesses he hadn’t fucked everything up too much after all. 

“I take it, you know them?”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “Nico was a good friend. And Bianca? Well, I never really got the opportunity to know her. But Nico loved her, and would have done everything for her if she had survived.”

 “I see,” Annabeth said, and he could see she really could. “You blame yourself don’t you?”

 “I blame myself for a lot of things. I promised Nico I would protect her, and then she died.” He promised a lot of things to a lot of people. And, he never seemed to be able to keep them. His promise to Annabeth, to Nico, to his mother…

 “Do you know who their parents are in your universe? No one here knows. They’ve never been claimed.” 

Percy nodded. “Yeah, I know. But, that’s not my secret to tell.”

“You’re a good guy,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see it before.”

“Please, stop apologizing,” he said. Something about the way she said it, made him nervous all of the sudden. There was something in his stomach—something tingling.

Oh gods no. Absolutely not. He was not feeling that.

“You okay Percy?” Annabeth asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice highered about ten octaves and for a moment he sounded like a frog. He would have preferred to be a frog. 

He was about to stand up, when he felt Annabeth’s hand on his own. “Wait, is something wrong.”

Her touch seemed to burn into his skin, making him think of absolutely nothing else.

He shook his head, and sat back down begrudgingly. His mouth was dry and could feel himself almost overheating.

“Percy—”

“Yeah?”

They were close now, so close he could feel her breath on his skin. All he would have to do was move an inch, and they would be kissing. But, would that be so bad?

There it was again, the small tether that seemed to pull them together. It was thick, pulsing with energy, and wanted only one thing, for Percy and Annabeth to be pulled together. 

Maybe it was fate? He thought, they always seemed to be pulling at his stings, wanting him to bend to his will. For so long, he wanted nothing to do with their plans. But if they’d been planning this, some part of it didn’t feel so wrong. 

Somehow, Annabeth’s body was even closer to him than he was before. When did that happen? Percy’s eyes drifted down to Annabeth’s. They were close, much closer than before.

His heart was beating as if it might pop out of his chest, and he could feel nervousness in his stomach that ached to escape. That longing within her—within him—built to a desperate need. It was strung, taught along his every muscle and pleaded for release.

"We can't do this." He said. She nodded, but somehow she was even closer. 

“We shouldn’t do this,” He said again.

Neither of them listened to the rational part of themselves.

 “Hey, Annabeth,” a voice said. “It’s time for your medicine.” The curtain was thrown open, and Will Solace was standing there with a tray of pill, his eyes wide. 

 “Oh my gods,” he said, and quickly threw the curtain closed again. He could hear the poor boy scrambling on the other side of the curtain as he tried to make his escape.  “I’m so sorry.”

Annabeth and Percy practically ran away from each other. Percy was already standing. He had stood up so quickly, he accidentally knocked over a glass of water that had been sitting on her bedside table. Water went flying everywhere and the glass shattered in a thousand-million pieces, luckily falling on the ground and not on Annabeth.. The girl shoved herself as close as she could to the other side of the bed without falling off, in equal disbelief. 

For a moment the two could only stare at each other, wide eyed and breathless as they thought about what had almost just happened. 

What the hell had that been? No, seriously. Percy had never really considered this girl. She wasn’t his Annabeth. They were two completely different people who deserved to be treated as such. 

It was wrong of him to consider her when there was always the chance he’d be thinking of someone else. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair to Annabeth.

“Umm,” Percy said. ‘I’m gonna go. I’m glad you're feeling better, Annabeth.”

Percy didn’t think he had ever run out of a room so quickly in his life

Chapter Text

Percy wouldn’t say he was avoiding Annabeth, he just was trying desperately not to see her. There was a difference….

He was lying to himself. Percy was definitely avoiding Annabeth. 

What made everything worse was the fact that Annabeth wasn’t avoiding him. In fact, the moment she got out of the infirmary it was like she was suddenly everywhere he went. She was there at lunch, outside of his cabin talking to her brothers, at the big house—everywhere.

It was hard to avoid someone when they weren’t avoiding you. 

Days had gone by, and camp was still terrible as ever. The looks and whispers had gotten worse, so much so that he had taken to hiding in his cabin for hours on end. He felt like a freak show or like something you looked at in a museum. He filled his time trying to learn how to focus the new power that seemed to flood through his veins and avoiding Annabeth. The only time he really did leave his cabin was when he went to the training yard and meals. 

Percy walked to breakfast before any of the other campers had risen. The sun had not yet begun to peak through the clouds, and there was still a chill in the air. He wanted to eat before the hordes of children came and bombarded him with thousands of questions he couldn’t and wouldn’t answer. After breakfast he decided he needed to finally talk to Chiron. He bet the horse might have some idea how to get him back to his home--if there was away home. 

He piled the juiciest sausages onto his plate, some blueberries, and blue waffles. Despite the rumbling in his stomach, he dropped some of the food into the fire, and it went up in a puff of smoke. The scent of the sea filled his nose in a second, and he couldn’t help but smile at the familiar smell.

“Dad,” he said. “Thanks for claiming me. I hope everything is alright on Olympus after my last visit. I’m sure Zeus hates me, but I’m not dead yet so I guess I have you to thank for that.”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he continued. “I found out some things that well…are really complicated. I wish I could tell you. Maybe, one day I will.”

“Percy Jackson, Praying to your dad?” A voice said behind him. “I doubt he’ll listen.”

Percy groaned. Could he not even eat his breakfast in peace?

“I would say good morning, but you just ruined it.,” 

Percy couldn’t even remember the stupid kid's name. All he knew was that he was trouble in the making—some demi-god who was determined to prove himself to the camp and the gods. He knew the boy probably felt threatened by his presence. Here Percy was showing up out of nowhere and already he seemed to be more important than he could ever hope to be. 

God, what was his name? Eli or Elliot? 

The man tightened his jaw, his veins bulging at the top of his head. He was angry— good. “ I see you aren’t dead yet, that’s unfortunate.”

“I see you're still talking.”

Esteban? Elias?

“I really don’t know what Annabeth sees in you. She thinks you're special, and that you could help us, but I just don’t get it.” Percy really didn’t know either, but he wasn’t about to say that.

God, what was the kid's name? Elio?

“You’re a son of Poseidon, aren’t you?” the kid said. “We all saw your abilities during the attack. A child of the big three is bad luck. You shouldn’t even exist. 

What’s his face was about to not exist if he didn’t shut up and soon. He just wanted to eat in peace. His waffles were getting more and more soggy the more he continued to prattle on.

“Listen kid,” Percy said. “People have been telling me I shouldn’t exist for my entire life. I really don’t fucking care what you or anyone else thinks.”

“You should care,” the boy said. “A war is coming. You should make sure you're on the right side.” The right side? Oh no. That sounded familiar. 

Percy took a good look at the boy, he was a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. If he hadn’t been contacted by Kronos agents already, he would be soon. 

He could see anger bubbling underneath the surface of the boy just waiting to explode. One more thing, and that anger just might spill out, hurting anyone who crossed his paths. He thought of Ethan Kmcamera and Chris Rodriguz—all people just like this kid who had been eaten up by the world of gods and spit right back out again. 

In a different world and in a different life, he could easily see himself being just as angry. Maybe, the Percy Jackson of this world would have joined Kronos after everything the gods had done and failed to do. Sometimes, he wished he could be that person who threw everything out the window and just focused on his anger. 

“What side are you on, Elijah?” he said, finally remembering the boy's name. In his defense, it had been a long fucking couple of weeks. Shoot him, if he doesn't remember one person's name.

The kid's eyes grew dark, and for a moment he reminded him so much of young Luke—filled with nothing but resentment and hatred.

“The side that will win,” he said.

“There’s a funny little thing about picking sides, Elijah,” he said. “You never notice you're on the wrong one until it's too late. You think you're justified, you think you’re right and everyone else is wrong. But, here’s the trick, here's the other shoe about to drop. There are no good guys or bad guys. There are just winners and losers. I’m not a fucking loser, Elijah. You should remember that.”

“Is that a threat?” the boy said and swallowed air. “I don’t think you have what it takes to win a war against the titans. You’re just like every other demi-god—too afraid. You’re too good. You won’t break any of your precious rules to do what needs to be done.” he said. He spit out the words like it it was the worst thing in the world.

Percy stood up from his picnic table. It was laughable really that this boy thought Percy wasn’t a rule breaker. He’d practically invented the guidebook on breaking rules and then threw it away to do whatever the hell he wanted. 

“Kid, today is not the day you want to find out why I have so many rules. If I ever break them, you won’t live to talk about it.”

“I—”

Percy continued on, not really caring if he scared the kid. Fear was good—being scared was smart. People liked to think otherwise, but Percy was terrified everyday, and somehow kept going despite it. Only stupid people weren’t afraid of anything, and it usually got them killed.  “You should be careful kid. You don’t hide your anger as well as you think you do. If I can see it, so can Chiron, and so can the gods.”

“I’m not afraid of the gods, Jackson,” he said, but he didn’t sound too sure.

Percy smirked. “You should be afraid of me.”

“Stop scaring the poor kid,” Annabeth said. Percy’s head snapped to her. He wondered how long she had been listening. 

She stood on the sidelines. Her arm was still in a sling, and her face had a rather large bruise that looked sickly green. For some reason it made her grey eyes look even more terrifying. 

“Elijah, get out of here,” she said. 

“But Annabeth—”

“Elijah, now,” she snapped, her face completely expressionless. 

The boy shot Percy a dangerous look, crossing his hands over his chest and sulking away. 

He really was an idiot, wasn’t he? Percy sat down, ignoring Annabeth’s judgemental eyes, and started to finally eat his breakfast. The sausage was growing cold, but he really didn’t care. He needed food.

“You didn’t have to be cruel to him,” she said. 

Percy sighed. “I wasn’t being cruel Annabeth.” He was just teaching the kid a long overdue lesson on not being annoying to people who could drown you with one thought. If anything, he was helping the kid in the long run. 

“He looked scared shitless." Good.

“That’s because he’s got a big head and little imagination. Obviously, I wouldn’t actually kill him.”

Annabeth glared at him and sat down on the bench next to him. Immediately he felt his entire body tense up from how close she was. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

“You’re avoiding me, Percy,” she said. 

“What? Me? Avoid you? Never,” he tried to walk away with his plate of food but she stopped him before he could move, but she put a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back down to the bench. Then, She snatched the plate out of his hands, sending a few grapes rolling down to the floor.

He groaned. He was looking forward to his food.

“You're a child,” she said. 

“You’re the one who just stole my breakfast.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t avoid me. Talk to me like an adult.”

“I mean technically we are all still children” he said. 

“Percy–”

 “A brain doesn’t reach maturity until someone is 25. So, yes, I am in fact still a baby.”

“A baby who can kill anything with a sword.

He smirked. “Sounds like a dangerous combination.” Wait…was he flirting? Definitely not, no, no, no. He had a girlfriend back home who he needed to get back to. He was going to talk to Chiron about it–the man knew everything and probably knew how to send him back home. Sometimes, it was hard not to slip back into the ways he used to be with Annabeth. Laughs were wild and free, words quick and jokes flying, 

He was going to get back home. It wasn’t a question of if but of when. This girl was brave and wild, and somehow a bit meaner than the girl he had fallen in love with. But she wasn't her, and he would never think of them that way.  Before maybe he had considered a relationship with her, knowing they were the same person but from different points of time. But now that he knew the truth, there was nothing stopping him from trying to get back home to his friends and family. 

“Goodbye Annabeth,” he said. He roughly grabbed the plate of food she had stolen from his hands. 

He shoved a few sausage links into his mouth as he walked, his stomach rumbling. 

“Percy, wait,” she said, and followed after him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for stealing my breakfast? Sorry for chastising me for how I talked to Elijah when he bothered me first? Sorry for almost kis—”

His mouth slammed shut. Gods, why did his mouth always work faster than his brain?

“What the hell is wrong, Percy?” she said. “Why can’t we just talk about this. Please, I know it's not a fun conversation, but it needs to happen. We almost kissed, and I need to know what that means. If it doesn’t mean anything, okay. If it was a fluke, that's okay. I just need to know.”

Percy felt like he was seconds away from blowing up on her.“Annabeth, I can’t!”

He tried to walk away so he wouldn’t do anything rash, but she just kept following him. God, she was like a kindergartner who asked a million questions a second. 

He didn’t want to talk to her about this, because if he did then he would have to explain why. How exactly are you supposed to tell someone the reason why you don’t want to pursue anything with them is because you're in love with a version of them in another dimension? 

She didn’t need to know that. Better yet, Percy wasn’t sure if he was ready to talk about it. Sure, He could slay monsters all day, but when it came to talking about his feelings, he had the emotional capacity of a preschooler. 

“Why not?” she said again, and he shook his head. Usually, he found her tenacity admirable, now it was just annoying. 

He kept on walking. 

“Why not Percy? Are you afraid of whatever this is? Do you regret what almost happened? I don't." Percy froze. Yes, he did regret it. They hadn't kissed but that didn't make him feel any less of a cheater. The fact that it almost happened meant that there was some connection, and even that felt like a betrayal. 

“Because I have a girlfriend, okay?”

They were both silent, and in those seconds, he realized it had come out more like a scream. 

“And I love her, more than anything. We walked through literal tartarus together. I grew up with her, and I gave up immortality for her. Everytime I see you, you are a living, breathing reminder of the woman that I love, and the fact that I might never see her again.”

“Oh,” she said.

He shook his head, trying to calm the erratic “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No, I get it,” she said. “I’m not a patient person and I don’t like not knowing things.”

“Annabeth–”

“What did you mean when you said, I remind you of her,” she said. 

Oh. Oh no. She had caught that bit. He really was hoping she hadn’t. Goddam is stupid mouth and his inability to shut it. 

“I–”

“Percy, what do you mean?”

“My girlfriend was my universe's version of you,” he whispered, finally editing what he had been holding in for so long.

“You mean?”

“Yes,” he said. Without waiting another second, he turned on his heels and walked away. He didn’t turn around to see what type of look might be on her face as tempting as it was. He threw his plate of breakfast into the trash can, suddenly not hungry. 

Instead, he focused on walking to the big house, ignoring the beating of his heart. The sooner he told Chiron the truth meant the sooner Percy might be able to go home. He could hear her shoes crunching behind him as he walked towards the big house. Why couldn’t any of them just leave him alone? Was that really too much to ask for?

Percy slammed the big house door open, and it practically shattered at the hinges. A loud sound echoed throughout the room, causing Chiron to look up from his game of Pinocle. Mr. D simply scowled and chugged some of his diet coke.

“Chiron,” he said, and collapsed on the threadbare couch. "Mr. D."

"You know," Mr. D said. "It's polite to knock when you enter a room. Chiron and I were in the middle of an excellent game."

Percy rolled his eyes and melted into the cushions. No matter how he sat, he could seem to relax. Every part of his body was on fire and wired with energy that threatened to explode at any minute. 

“Percy, my boy,” Chiron said, raising an eyebrow, and putting his cards down. “What brings you here?”

Escape? The truth? A mental breakdown? All of the above?

He groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. “People are annoying. 

“Oh dear,” he said. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“If by tea you mean whiskey, then yes,” he said.

“You are a minor; you can’t drink alcohol.”

"I knew there was a reason I liked you kid," Mr. D said, taking a chug of his soda like he was doing shots early in the morning.  

Percy laughed, letting his head fall back on the couch. “So, I can go on dangerous quests and walk through literal hell, but I can’t have tequila.”

“Yes,” the teacher said as a matter of fact.

“Fine, I’ll take the tea. Lots of sugar please.”

“You don’t need any sugar,” Annabeth said, walking into the room. She stood far on the other side of room. It was only a few short feet, but something about it felt like a large chasm. If he took one wrong step he might just go tumbling down to his death. 

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t consume," he snapped. "If I want sugar then I will have sugar, okay?” Percy had to control himself for a moment (which obviously was not his strong point). He was acting like a twelve-year-old boy. 

Annabeth put her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. But don’t blame me when you have a sugar crash.”

Both the older men raised an eyebrow at the two but said nothing. He knew they were both acting like children.

"Well, this is interesting," Mr. D said. "Are you two done?"

“As Mr. D so tactfully said, why exactly have you both come here? I don't think you two interrupted our game to talk about the dangers of sugar and alcohol.” Chiron asked, his eyes darting between the two like he was watching Serena Williams plays at the U.S Open. 

Percy sighed. “I need to tell you the truth. The whole truth."

"Oh?" Mr. D said. "It's about time. I've been wondering why you were such a weirdo from the moment you came to camp."

Gods, it was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

Percy imagined there was a lot of ways this conversation could end up going; Number one and the most likely, Mr. D turned him into a dolphin and Percy would spend the rest of his days in blissful ignorance. Number two, Chiron trampled him with his hooves. Number three and the most unlikely, they would believe him. 

If silence was palpable, then this silence was like the wait before a hurricane. It was electrifying, everyone waiting on bated breath for the truth he had been holding in for far too long. 

From Chirons perspective, he had known him for years. It was a secret that had been building with intensity, and now would finally be released. For him, it had only been a few weeks and they were the longest weeks of his entire life. He’d died, gone on a quest, fell into Tartarus for apparently seven years, and when he came back everyone thought he was dead. All in a day's work in his life.

“Well,” Mr. D said, coughing loudly, and Percy was thankful for it. “Go on, or are you going to stand there for a millennium? Believe it or not I have more important things that listening to you."”

“Right,” Percy said. “I guess I should just say it then. I’m not your Percy Jackson. I’m—well, I’m from another dimension."

While he awaited to be trampled or turned into some aquatic animal what he didn’t expect was for the two men to nod at him. He looked down at his body and surprisingly everything was still intact.

The two men simply shifted inherit seats, the wood creaking. Mr. D took a sip of his diet coke and let out a small burp. “Well, that would explain a few things,” Mr. D said. “Can’t say I’m all that surprised. I thought it was going to be much worse. I expected you to say you were secretly working for Kronos or something."

“I’m sorry?” Percy asked. Are they kidding? Where was the screaming and disbelief? “You believe me?”

“Of course we do,” Chiron said, nodding at him in encouragement. “You aren’t the first person to be pulled from another dimension. It happens all the time really–there are cracks in the universe and sometimes people just slip through by accident. What do you think happened to the town of Roanoke?”

“I think they just moved.” Percy said. “I think they just moved and forgot to tell everyone where they were going.”

“Oh please,” Mr. D said, rolling his eyes. “Nothing is ever that simple, you know. I take it by little Annie’s presence that she knows everything?”

Percy looked over at Annabeth who was watching him expectantly. She didn’t look angry like she had been earlier, she only nodded at him in support. It was incredible how a single head nod could calm him down.

“Yeah,” Percy said. “She’s the only one who knows.” Of course that was a lie, but he didn’t want to throw his mother under the bus. “And I think Kronos knows too. Before I blew him up, he said some cryptic things.”

“You blew him up?” Annabeth asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. “With Zeus’s lightning bolt. Did I not mention that?”

She shook her head, looking like she was about to throw him off of the empire state building. “No, you did not.”

“Chiron,” he said. “Mr. D. The reason I’m asking is because I need to know if there is a way for me to get back. I have a family, and people back there that are waiting for me. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He waited on bated breath for their answer. If anyone knew, it would be them. “Once a door has been closed, there is no way to go back, Percy,” Chiron said. “You must accept that this is your home now.”

"What?" he asked. Already he could feel the blood in his ears, he could feel complete and utter defeat overtaking him. 

"I'm sorry," Chiron said, not unkindly. "There is no way back."

“No,” he snapped. “I refuse to believe that. There had to be some way.” Percy knew there was a high possibility that he would be stuck there for the rest of his life. But he didn’t want to believe it—He couldn’t. After everything he had endured it wasn’t fair.

Chiron shook his head. “It’s never been done, Percy. It can’t be done.”

“Just because something hasn’t been done, doesn’t mean that it can’t,” he said. 

“Percy,” Chiron said. “It isn’t possible.”

“But–”

“Enough,” Mr. D said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, boy. I’ll tell you plainly. You died, didn’t you?’

Percy froze. How could he have possibly known? 

“Before I met you, I felt you die, Jackson— all the Olympians did. Imagine my surprise when you showed up at camp very alive but in need of a major attitude adjustment. My guess is that our Percy died when he fought the minotaur. So, the fates panicked, they pulled another version of the kid from another universe in order to put things back on track. If the fates brought you here, do you really think they will let you go? They would rather you die than let you back and admit their mistakes.”

Percy saw red. An anger like he had never felt before raced through his veins. “Fuck, the fates,” Percy said, and lightening cracked overhead, shaking the entire house. “If they stole me from my home, I’ll kill them my selves.”

“Percy–” Annabeth warned.

“No,” he yelled. His anger was threatening to boil over. He was done. Done with everything. Done with the gods, done with fates, and done with his shitty life. He could feel something inside him, some power wanting to escape and lash out. His gut was twisting and turning so much that he almost threw up what little breakfast he had left. 

“I’m done listening to them,” he exploded. “Maybe they should have been paying attention when they pulled me from my home, because if they had they would have known not to cross me. They should remember my name. Percy Jackson , Praetor of Rome, Hero of Olympus, slayer of Kronos, and Gaea. I’ve held up the sky, traversed the labyrinth, endured the sea of monsters. They made me what I am and now they have to deal with the consequences.”

He’d never seen Annabeth or anyone else look at him in fear. It wasn’t the respect he usually received from his friends who understood him, or the weariness of the people who didn’t know him. No, this was fear–wild and unchained, and dangerous if left unattended.

All three of the people looked at him in a way he’d never seen before. Annabeth stepped back from him, and that small gesture broke what little was left of his heart. Mr. D’s eyes were wide, a type of fire burning in his sockets.

“What!” he yelled, and that was when he noticed it. Water swirled all around him. It came from the trees, the flowers outside, from the cups the two men hadn’t finished drinking. He could only watch in astoundment as it raged like a storm.

What was happening to him?

The twisting in his gut snapped.  Something crashed outside, and when he looked out the window a storm was brewing overhead. All at once, water poured from the sky, soaking every poor camper who had the misfortune to find themselves stuck in it. He could hear the lake raging as waves crashed against the sandy bank.

“Percy,” A voice said, but he wasn’t really listening. “You need to calm down.”

Calm down? How could he just calm down when everything he’d ever fought for had been taken from him? Was he just supposed to take everything lying down?

“Percy–” A voice screamed. It was only then that he noticed that the entire house was shaking. Pictures went crashing down to the ground, a vase shattered, and Annabeth had to duck to not get hit. A piece of glass whipped across her cheek, sending a flood of blood spilling out into the air.
Oh gods, what was happening to him? What had he done?

Just as quickly as it had started it stopped. The storm outside ceased to rage, the room stopped shaking, and the waves calmed. His eyes never left Annabeth—he had hurt her. He never wanted—How could he?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to.” He could only stare in shock at the mess he had created. The big house was completely in tatters. There were knocked over tables, and water all over floor, staining the wood. Mr. D looked shaken, and Mr. D…Well he was probably considering finally turning him into sushi.

“Percy–”

“I didn’t know I could do that,” he said. “It's only happened a couple times. I’m so sorry.”

Oh gods….

“Tell me about those times, Percy?” Chiron said, bringing him back to earth. 

“I—” Could he really tell them all how he was completely losing control of the powers inside of him. Could he tell them that he could control a person at will by just moving their blood, or blow up a volcano because he was angry? 

“You aren’t the first demigod who has lost control,” Chiron said. “And you won’t be the last. Tell us.”

“I blew up Mount St. Helens when I was fifteen. I guess that counts as losing control.”

“You blew up–” Annabeth started, her mouth completely agape.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was an accident.”

“The other times?”

Percy opened his mouth, but no sound came out. What if he told them, and they hated him for it? What if he would lose the tiny hold he had on this camp too?

"Whatever you tell us, we will not judge you for,” Chiron said, seemingly knowing what was going through his mind. He swore the man could read minds at times.

“When I was in Tartarus,” he said. “The first time I was there in my dimensions—”

“You’ve been there before?” Annabeth interrupted. “How are you alive?”

“I lost control. The goddess of misery, I had her under my control. When I’m angry enough I can control the water in someone's blood, make them do whatever it is I want. I liked the feeling of it, I would have killed her if Annabeth hadn’t stopped me.”

It was at that moment that Percy realized just how dangerously he had been to the ledge his entire life. He always seemed to have one foot on solid ground and one teetering off a cliff. His friends had been his tether, they kept him from going off the deep end and destroying the gods completely. Was this what Luke always felt like—filled with anger and a want for revenge? They weren’t so dissimilar after all.

"You controlled a goddess?" Mr. D said. "Are you sure?" Percy couldn't read his expression, but it unsettled him. He knew it wasn't ordinary. It was wrong on so many levels, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. He did what he had to do to survive, and he would do it again if it meant Annabeth lived.

Percy nodded at him. "I can't explain it or control it. But it feels...good. It's like a release."

“Annabeth,” Chiron said. “Why don’t you take Percy back to his cabin? He needs rest. That kind of magical outburst can be exhausting.”

Percy was exhausted mentally and physically. He didn’t fight the man’s offer. “Thank you, Chiron.”

“It’s okay, my boy,” he said. 

Mr. D scoffed. “It’s not okay. It fucking hurts, doesn’t it? Use it, let it fuel you to keep going in spite of everything.” Percy smiled at the man. Whoever thought that Mr. D would be his voice of reason?

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Come on, Percy,” Annabeth said, and gently grabbed a hold of his hand, pulling him out of the house. She shut the food loudly behind him, and it made his heartbeat slightly faster. 

Outside was cool, a product of his little rainstorm–the temperature hovering around perfect. He was sure he would have enjoyed it any other day. But he couldn’t bring himself to really care. They walked in silence. Percy wasn’t sure if he had any words left to say, his outburst had said everything already. 

The ground was still soaked from his impromptu storm, and it squished underneath his shoes. For a moment, all he could do was focus on the squishing noise, and not the odd faces Annabeth kept shooting him. 

“Are you okay?” she said eventually. He preferred silence if he was honest. 

“No,” he admitted. “But I will be. I just…I need some time.”

“I’ll try and give you all the time I can,” she said.

“I can’t calm down Annabeth, knowing I can never get back home. Everything had fallen apart, and now I have no way to put all the pieces back together again. 

“Percy,” she said, so calmly it only made him angrier. “No one is expecting you to just move on. We would be heartless if we did. What we want you to do is breathe and figure out your next steps. You're stuck here, and you can’t get back, but that doesn’t mean your life is over. It just means you have to make a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one, Annabeth.” His heart was breaking, ripping at the seams, and catapulting out of his heart. It landed on the floor in front of Annabeth, bloody and torn. All she had to do was pick it up, and he might just finally snap.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” she said. Her face was filled with such understanding that he almost melted.  “You have no idea how sorry I am. You don’t deserve this. The gods can’t expect you to follow them blindly after everything you’ve endured.”

“How am I supposed to do this?”

“Just go carefully,” she said with such understanding he almost melted right then and there. 

“I–” Percy began to say, and realized something that was completely mortifying. He wanted to kiss her. 

It was wrong, really. She was being patient and supportive and all he could think about was how much he wanted her. Maybe it was because she was so similar to his Annabeth? Maybe it was because he wanted to forget and for a few minutes not think anything. Or maybe it was because she was kind, and —

“Oh, fuck it,” he said, and kissed her. 

Their lips met in an instant. If kisses could talk, theirs was singing from the hilltops. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer to him if that was even possible. The taste of her– strawberries and fresh lemons— was enough to make every single rational thought leave his brain and jump out the window. 

It was an idiotic idea really. But he couldn’t seem to care. All he knew was that he needed her.

Water began to pour from above them, rain pouring in heavy droplets that he realized he was creating. It soaked every part of them--their hair, clothes and bodies. It only made him want her more. He pulled her closer to him until he couldn't make sense of where is body ended and hers started.

This wasn’t a sweet kiss, all blushing and tender. No, this was something more. Something that wanted—something that needed to be tamed but couldn't be extinguished even by the rain he could no longer control. 

But all at once, it ended. Annabeth pulled away, as if realizing what exactly they had done. Something quick crossed her face, regret maybe. Mortification? Oh gods.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Oh gods. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a mess. An emotional mess, and I’m sorry.” Lightening cracked overhead, and he looked up at the sky to a purple flash of lightning race dance through the clouds. How was he doing this?

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling up at him. Her hand fell to his cheek, and so gently like a whisper, she kissed him again and it was like sugar. She pulled away from him and grabbed his hands, setting them on her waist and pulling in closer to him. She was so closed he could feel her breath on his skin, hear her heartbeat, and smell her strawberry shampoo. It was like a drug, and he didn't want to live without it. “I’m not the girl you left behind. We’re different. But, if you’d like, I want you to get to know me. The real me, and not a memory.”

“We need to go slowly,” he said. “Please.” He moved his hand up to her face that was stained with blood. He had done that. He had hurt her. Why did she still want to be with him when he caused her so much pain?

“Of course,” she said. “I understand you Percy, more than you think I do.”

“I feel like I’m betraying her,” he admitted. “It feels wrong. Something just doesn’t feel right.” He had to admit, the kiss had been nice, and he’d enjoyed it, but there was something in his brain telling him to run away as far as humanly possible.

“I think she’d want you to be happy.”

Percy wasn’t too sure. Annabeth would probably bitch slap him, and then throw this Annabeth off a cliff. Then she’d bring them all back to life and kill them again. He honestly wouldn't even mind it. 

"Come on," Annabeth said, pulling on his hand. Her hand was warm in his, calloused but somehow so soft. "Let get you some rest."

Percy wasn't sure if he could ever rest again. 

Chapter Text

The sun had not yet risen in the sky and already Percy sat in the big house waiting for his doom. He had called a meeting of all the cabin counselors who he knew didn’t either trust or know him. He was nervous and couldn’t stop the overwhelming feeling that it was just going to be one giant shit show. 

Everything else in his life was a shit show, so why would this be any different. Sometimes, he really did feel like he was living in the Truman Show. One day, he was going to wake up and find out it was all some cosmic prank made to amuse middle schoolers and housewives. 

“You okay?” Annabeth said, putting a hand on his shoulder causing him to almost jump out of his skin. She needed bells around her neck or something—she was way too quiet. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine, just thinking.” He really wasn’t okay, but in time he would be. 

She plopped a spot on the cushion next to him, and rested a head on his shoulder.  Something about it felt so intimate, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. He didn’t know if he ever would be. This—well whatever it was, felt wrong. He felt like he was betraying his Annabeth and felt like he was using the girl on his shoulder to move on. 

“I think there is a traitor at camp,” he told Annabeth. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell her he already knew it was Silena. 

She looked up at him abruptly, her curls falling into her face. Almost like muscle memory, he moved a stray piece away, and she blushed deeper than he’d ever seen. “Really?” she said. “Is that why you called the meeting? I thought it was going to be about rebuilding camp or something.”

He nodded. “Yes, and I just  don’t think Kronos is fully gone. I bet Luke is coming up with some plan as we speak to raise him from the grave.”

Annabeth shook her head. “How could he possibly come back? You electrocuted him with Zeus’s lightning bolt, and he disappeared into a thousand pieces. I think he’s gone for good.

There were thousands of ways the man could come back if he really thought about it. He bet Luke knew every single one of them and was just biding his time.

 “The golden fleece is always a possibility.”  It was the most logical thing for the boy to do. The dimensions weren’t carbon copies of the other, but they were like mirror images–same but different.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him, like it really was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “The golden fleece? He’d have to cross the sea of mo—Let me guess that’s why you had to go there in the other dimension.”

“Bingo.”

She rolled her eyes. “You never cease to amaze me, you know?”

Percy sputtered, hardly believing his own ears. “I’m sorry? What did you just say?”

The girl rolled her eyes, and Percy couldn’t help but smile. “You should clean out your ears. I’m not saying it again.”

Percy still felt so guilty, and moments like these only made the guilt grow. He shouldn’t be moving on; he shouldn’t be happy when he could never get back home. But his family would want him to move on, wouldn’t they?

She frowned, like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. “You should blame yourself for his disappearance, you know,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Annabeth looked at him like someone watching Fergie sing the national anthem. “Why would I blame myself?”

“Clarisse told me you two had a fight before he disappeared,” he said. “I assumed you’d be torn up about that. I know I would be.”

Annabeth shook her head, and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “Luke made his choices, and I’ve made mine. There is no time in our short lives for regret.”

Percy nodded. “I had really—”

Anabeth cut him off, kissing him so gently he barely even felt it. Her lips were so soft-almost cloud like and so easy to get lost in. “Can we not talk about Luke please? Every time I think of him, I just want to—”

He nodded, of course. He’d been surprised by the kiss—shocked even. He never considered Annabeth as someone very touchy-feely. It had taken them over five years the first time to really realize they had had feelings for eachother. It was all just moving so quickly and he couldn’t figure out why.

The room filled up quickly with campers–some he recognized and some he didn’t. He saw Silena, Leo, and Clarisse just to name a few. Percy quickly separated himself from Annabeth, and stood at attention when the first camper came in. 

Chiron came in last, his hooves clattering on the wood. He found himself a place in the corner where he could see the whole room and nodded at Percy when their eyes connected. Mr. D was nowhere in sight, not that Percy was entirely surprised by that. 

The sun had finally begun to rise, casting everyone in a haunting golden glow. He saw a small camper nod off only to be slapped loudly on the shoulder by their sibling. Maybe, he should have called the meeting a little later. It would probably done wonders for the demigod's attention span. 

“What’s up loser?” Clarisse said and took her spot leaning up against the wall. Percy couldn’t help but chuckle at how different their friendship had become. 

“You’re not a camp Counselor,” he said, noticing Elijah come into the room. Gods, he hated that boy, and just wanted to drop kick him all the way to the nearest pizza hut.

The boy rolled his eyes and ignored him. If they didn’t need as many demigods as possible to stop Kronos, he’d definitely be baked into a pie Mrs. Lovett style. 

Piper came in with her hair wrapped up in a towel and a hot steaming cup of coffee in her hands. What he wouldn’t give for just one sip of caffeine. 

A few more campers straggled in, each looking more exhausted than the last. They all sat around, not sure why they had been called to a meeting so early in the morning. They probably would have preferred to be sleeping instead of being dragged to the big house at 8 am, and Percy didn’t blame them. 

Clarisse pushed herself off the wall and collapsed on the sofa, letting out a large yawn. “Why exactly are we here?

Annabeth nodded at Percy for support, not that he really needed it to talk to a bunch of middle schoolers. “We have a spy at camp.” He pulled it off like a band aid, not wasting any time. 

For a moment, the room was silent, the awkwardness palpable and so uncomfortable, Percy had to stare up at the ceiling. But, All at once the room went into an uproar. Whispers, shouts, even laughter  filled the air like the world's worst white noise. Percy strangely enough felt like a calm anchor in the midst of all the pandemonium.

“A spy?” Clarisse’s voice raised above the rest. “Are you sure?

Percy nodded, and couldn’t stop his eyes flickering to Silena, who looked so innocent despite the reality. “I’m positive. When I was in Tartarus I heard monsters talking about an inside job.” The lie burned on his tongue, but whatever it took to make them believe him. 

“How can we know?” someone asked. “It could be anyone.”

He heard a scoff, and tried to control his fists when he saw who it was. Fucking Elijah. “How do we know you aren’t a spy? I mean no one really knows you. You could just be trying to get us all not to trust one another.”

Some people in the room nodded, and Percy felt his heart drop. 

“That’s a fucking stupid idea, Elijah,” Clarisse said. “Besides, if he was the spy, why would he give Zeus’s bolt back? Sounds like a stupid idea even for Jackson.” Percy shot the girl a look of thanks, and she nodded to him.

“I’m just saying what I see,” the boy said. “I don’t trust him, and neither should any of you.”

“Thank you, Elijah, for your words, but it’s easy to find a spy,” he said. “They will have a silver scythe charm somewhere as a way to contact Kronos, it would be easy to miss. It's probably on a necklace, maybe even a charm bracelet—hidden in plain sight. I’ve only been told a few years not to cause a witch hunt at camp. This does not leave this room. If it does, I will consider anyone spreading this a traitor. Do you understand?”

“Who died and made you leader?” Elijah asked, his shrill voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Why should we listen to you?” Percy hated the nods from campers he didn’t recognize. 

Percy was done with this little bitch. “The truth is, I’m the person here with the most experience. I know monsters and I know Kronos. I walked through Tartarus for seven years and yet I’m still alive. I blew up that little titan of time with Zeus’s own lightning bolt. The only reason this camp is still standing is because of me. I literally give zero fucks if you trust me, Elijah. But know this, I hate Kronos with every fiber of my being. I will kill him for good this time, and no one – not you and not some selfish little spy is ever going to stop me. Do you understand?”

“Why—”

“Did I stutter?”

“Chiron,” he turned to the centaur. “Are you really going to let this stranger talk to me this way?”

Chiron just shrugged his shoulders with a small smile. “Percy is no stranger. I’ve known the boy since he was twelve years old. And besides, you really shouldn’t be here.”

Gods bless Chiron. He was a true icon when it really mattered. 

“But—” Percy clenched his hands into his fists. If this boy spoke one mor—

He felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and commanding—it was Annabeth, pulling him back from his anger. “Thank you, Percy.”

“If it's any consolation, Percy,” Leo said rather quickly. “I don’t think anyone in this room really likes Elijah.” Percy hadn’t even noticed the boy creeping up next to him. He was fiddling with his hands, making something out of pipe cleaners and shoestrings. 

“Thanks man,” he said. “I appreciate someone supporting me.”

Leo shrugged his shoulders. “I saw the way you helped us fight that dragon. Anyone would be stupid to think you were on their side. And besides, It always brings me joy to shut Elijah up.”

"Excuse me?" Elijah sputtered. 

"Your excused," Percy said. He turned back to Leo who was grinning like a menace. 

“Not a fan?”

“He stole one of my projects once for the fun of it,” he scowled, brushing a hand through his curls. “The man is a menace.”

Perc couldn’t help but agree. He wanted to snap, and throw that idiot out a window, but he controlled himself, focusing instead on the most important thing – finding the spy (which he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was Elijah.”

Just when he was about to say something he would probably regret, the door of the big house slammed open. A large gust blew into the room, filling his nose with the oddly comforting scent of dead leaves, and earth. For a moment, he had to adjust his eyes as bright lights flooded through the open window, but the moment he realized who it was, Percy couldn’t help but smile.

“What kind of monster calls a meeting this early?” Nico Di Angelo said. 

“I would be the said monster,” Percy said, raising his hand. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty rest.”

“Who the hell are you?” he said, his eyes looking at him with nothing but suspicion (which wasn’t entirely different from how Nico usually looked at him, if he was being honest. 

“Percy Jackson,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

If Nico recognized his name, he didn’t show it. Instead, he simply glared at him. Oddly enough, the more he glared the more Percy smiled. Gods, it was good to see the little goth dork. He’d been so worried after finding out Thalia didn’t exist; he would have lost his mind if Nico died before Percy could meet him.

“Are you feeling alright?” the boy asked. “You look a little weird.”

“I’m absolutely fine, thank you very much,” he said. “I’m just happy.”

“Really?” Clarisse’s voice said. “Because I was pretty sure you were about to drown Elijah just for breathing.”

“Would you have blamed me?” he asked. 

Clarisse raised an eyebrow. “Touche.”

Nico practically glided through the room, not bothering to give anyone the time of day. He found a spot against the wall, leaned against it, and pulled out an apple from the depths of his pocket, biting into it like an asshole. Good to know he was still an angsty little boy. 

“So, what exactly did I miss?” he said. “What is so important enough to wake me up?”

“Percy thinks there is a spy,” Leo said.

“Well duh,” Nico said and took another bite of the apple. “Only an idiot would think otherwise.”

“I think the whole thing–” Elijah began to say, but Nico shut him quickly., rolling his eyes with a groan. 

“Oh, shut up Elijah,” Nico snapped. “No one asked you. You aren’t even a counselor. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither are you!” the boy shouted. “And neither is Piper.”

Piper raised an eyebrow, fully confused why she was being brought into the conversation. “I just came for morale support. Percy looked like he could use some.”

“Right,” Nico said. “I’m not a counselor, but I’m a scout and have important information, and I actually like Piper.”

If Percy was drinking anything he would have spat it out. It was nice to see that Elijah was insufferable to absolutely everyone. Everyone except for apparently Annabeth, and he still couldn’t shake his head around that one. 

Elijah huffed, and slumped back into his chair, like a child who had just been reprimanded. 

“Did you find out anything about Luke?” Clarisse asked Nico. “You didn’t see any trace of him on your travels?”

“None,” the angry goth boy said. “There’s no trace of him. I haven’t heard even a single stir. I’ll keep looking though. I promise.”

Clarisse slumped, looking completely defeated. He hadn't realized that the two had been so close. “Do you have anything else to report?”

Nico nodded. “There's a reason I came back. Kronos is amassing an army. He’ll be here in a week.”

Chapter Text

What did demi-gods do when they found out a giant army was amassing and would probably kill them all? Did they flee for the hills or pray to the gods to help them. Of course not–they would never do that. They did what they did best— they threw a rager.

The Hermes kids supplied the alcohol, the Aphrodite kids provided the food, the Ares cabin supplied the drinking games, and Percy just brought his normal happy self. 

Percy wasn’t a drinker, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t drink. Demi-gods by nature had a much higher alcohol tolerance than mortals—he could drink an entire bottle of wine by himself and only feel buzzed. He ended up having to drink almost an entire bottle of tequila to end up getting drunk, but at that point the amount of liquids he consumed had him sitting on the toilet. 

He had been drunk just once and vowed never to repeat it. The scent of cheap beer brought back memories of Smelly Gabe's hot breath and grasping hands, always demanding money Percy didn't possess. While he bore no grudge against those at camp who drank, the whiff of Coors Light transported him back to the cramped apartment on the Upper West Side, where he witnessed his mother being struck with the back of a ping pong paddle.

So, no, Percy didn’t drink much. 

He weaved through the crowd of demigods, drinking their Long Island iced teas. Which Percy found funny because they were in fact on Long Island. He considered himself the designated driver for the night, making sure every camper got home back to their cabins preferably not throwing up all over themselves. He sneakily replaced their drinks with water, and shoved granola bars in their hands so they would have something in their stomachs besides alcohol. 

He was impressed how quickly they could set up a party. There were large picnic tables everywhere, each one housing different foods and drinks. Someone had hung up twinkle lights shaped like little starts and paper lanterns that were most definatetly a fire hazard.

A large body collided with him, taking the breath out of his lungs, and he almost fell over. 

“Oh hey, dude,” Leo said, practically screaming.

"Leo?” he asked. “Are you alright?” The boy looked straight up ridiculous. His shirt was on backwards, and he wore Hawaiian shorts that looked like something Xander from Buffy the Vampire Slayer would have in his wardrobe. In his hand, he held a coconut cup, with a little umbrella sticking out of it that had little cherubs flying all over it. 

“You know,” Leo said, slurring his words. Gods, how much alcohol had that boy consumed to get so wasted? “You’re kind of scary.”

“Oh?" He said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you look like a god—all ripped and muscled. And It’s like not fair. I want to be that tall.”

Percy helped the poor guy sit down. “How much exactly have you drunk?”

Leo chuckled like a little girl–his voice ten octaves higher. “Just one or two?”

There was no possible way that poor boy had only had one or two drinks. He was slurring like he had just chugged an entire keg of Everclear. 

“One or two what?”

“I had a couple glasses of Travis’s jungle juice.” he burped. Out of seemingly nowhere, the boy pulled out a bright pink kazoo from the depths of his pockets and started to play what sounded like an out of tune imperial march. 

Note to self. Stay away from Travis's jungle juice. 

“I’m going to get you some water,” he said. “Please do not move.”

The kid saluted him. “Aye aye captain.”

Quickly, he walked through the crowd of people to see if he could find the kid some water and perhaps a throw up bucket. He also needed to find a way to accidentally dispose of the Jungle Juice so no one else ended up learning how to play a musical instrument. Knowing the demi-gods, they'd probably find a way to light the camp on fire (again) if they kept drinking. 

“Who are you?” a voice said. Percy groaned in annoyance. Couldn’t people notice he was on a mission to save a very drunk Leo?

Percy turned around and almost dropped the water he was holding. “Jeez Nico. You can say hi.”

“Hi,” he said, and awkwardly waved. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He sighed. “Hi, my name is Percy Jackson, as I’ve already told you. I’m a son of Poseidon, I’m really good at playing ultimate ninja, and I’m considering buying you a bell, so you don’t terrify any other party guests.”

“Funny,” he said, with a blank expression. He crossed his arms over his chest, and glared daggers into his very soul.

“I’m hilarious,” Percy responded. “What exactly do you want?”

“I know your name and your father, but no one else really knows anything about you–well, besides Annabeth, but she isn’t saying anything. You're a giant question mark. The campers have wild theories, and I can’t help but wonder if any of them are true.”

Oh, Percy had heard all the conspiracy theories, and they were nine levels of ridiculous. Someone said he was secretly a god in disguise (specifically Triton), some said he was a spy, or that he was in the Witness Protection Program. 

“I’ve heard the stories, but what do you think?”

“I think you're dangerous,” he said without missing a beat. “I think you're hiding something, and you aren’t telling everyone who you actually are. 

He didn’t deny it. “I am dangerous, but so are you, Nico.”

He smiled. “Most people don’t catch that. They just think I’m some weird emo kid.”

“They are too far off,” Percy said. “Most children of had–”

Nico’s hand snapped up immediately and covered Percy’s mouth. “How the hell do you know that?”

Percy pulled his hand away from his mouth. “I don’t know how, but I could sense it,” he lied. “And besides with your getup and aura it isn’t too hard to guess.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said, his face so serious. It was at that moment he realized how young the boy was. This was a kid who hadn’t gone through all the troubles his Nico had. He hadn’t been held captive at the doors of death and hadn’t lost his sister. This Nico—well Percy only wished the world for him. 

“I promise not to tell, if you promise not to tell any of the campers about the Romans.” Percy was playing a dangerous game he knew. There wasn’t anything stopping Nico from running off and telling the romans about camp half-blood. But he was hoping and praying that this boy wasn’t so different from the kid he knew. 

If it was possible Nico’s face grew even paler, looking like he really was dead, and not just controlled them. “How?”

Percy shrugged his shoulders, giving Nico a wistful smile. “Did you really think you were the only one who knew?”

“Honestly? Yes,” he said. “You seem to know a lot of things that you shouldn’t. How can you possibly know all of this??

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you,” he said. “Tell Jason Grace I say hi.”

With that he turned around and went to go find Leo who hopefully was dying. Unfortunately, he almost would have preferred his death, if only not to hear the god-awful squeaking sounds coming from his Kazoo. 

Leo was still sitting in the same place, and thankfully he wasn’t alone. Annabeth was sitting next to him completely unbothered as he blew the kazoo in her face. She was patting his back and trying to grab a new glass of jungle juice he had gotten a hold of. 

“Hey Leo,” he said, trying not to laugh at the odd scene. Both Annabeth and Leo looked up at once. The boy grinned at him, showing a row of pearly teeth Apollo would be jealous of. Meanwhile, Annabeth just looked relieved, her body relaxing when she saw him. “I brought you some water, dude.”

“Percy!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Your back! I thought you disappeared.”

“I’d never leave you, man,” he said. “You seemed really thirsty, so I got you a drink.”

He quickly shoved the cup into Leo’s hand and watched as the boy chugged it, not even breaking for air.  He finished drinking the glass and wiped the water from his lips with the back of his hand. 

“Thanks man,” he said. “You really aren’t as terrifying as everyone thinks you are. You’re like…super cool.”

“Thanks Leo,” he said, trying to hold in fits of laughter. “You look kind of sleepy, I’m going to get someone to get you home, okay?”

Percy grabbed the shirt of the first sobor boy who walked past him, unfortunately, that boy just happened to be Elijah. He struggled in his grasp but froze when he saw who it was. Immediately a flash of anger crossed the boy's face. He looked over to Annabeth as if to say, can you believe this guy?

"What the hell, Jackson," he said. "Let me go." The man tried to throw a punch, but Percy grabbed it his hand and threw it away. 

"Sorry, Elijah," he said. "But can you take Leo to his Cabin. The poor guy is wasted, and I have to stay to make sure no one accidently kills themselves."

He was surprised that Elijah didn't try to find a way out of it. Instead, he looked at Leo with something close to concern and pity. He slumped in his grasp, and let out a deep sigh, seemingly affecting his fate. "Yeah of course. He didn't have any of Travis's jungle juice, did he? He put a whole bottle of Everclear in there."

"Everclear? Really?" Gods, no wonder that boy was so drunk. 

Elijah just nodded. "I've been trying to find a way to dump it out, but Travis always stops me." Elijah turned to Leo. "Hey man, I'm going to make sure you get home, okay?"

Leo nodded. "Okay, you know Elijah. If you didn't get so protective of camp and try to threaten every new person, people might be nicer to you."

The boy sighed, and his words shocked Percy. "I know Leo. I just don't want us to get betrayed again. I can't deal with that, you know?" “Okay,” he said. He went over to Leo and put one hand around his waist and draped the drunk boy's arms over his shoulder. 

“Whoa,” Leo said, as the boy lifted him up. “I feel wobbly. I feel like I’m on a boat. Like the titanic.” He turned to Percy, his eyes suddenly wide. “You don’t think we’ll drown, right?”

The boy huffed and walked Leo away from him towards the cabins. He kept watching them, until he saw their stumbling forms disappear into the nearby cabin. Maybe Elijah wasn't so terrible after all? Maybe they boy just had somethings going on that Percy didn't know. 

The rest of the campers were looking only slightly better than Leo. They were still drunk but at least they could form proper sentences. The only light in the area was blazing tiki torches, dimming their surroundings. Everyone had been too afraid after the bonfire incident, so the torches were a nice compromise. . 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so drunk before in my life,” Annabeth said, the moment the boys were out of earshot. 

Percy held in a laugh. “Leo had one too many glasses of Travis’s punch. He’ll probably be sleeping for the next several days.”

“I guess I’ll have to remember to stay away from the punch then. Do you want a drink?” Annabeth asked. “I can grab you one.”

Percy shook his head. “Nah, I don’t really drink.”

“Really?” Percy just shook his head, and kicked a nearby opened can of beer that was on the ground. It sputtered and skipped across the ground like skipping stones.

The two started walking to a nearby picnic table that thankfully wasn’t covered in throw up or sticky spilled jungle juice. It was at the edge of the forest, covered by a large tree that seeped the area in shadows. He’d bet they were almost invisible to the rest of the party. Percy sat on the bench, his back leaning against the table, as he watched the campers party despite the upcoming battle.  

“Why not?” Annabeth said, sitting down next to him. “It’s just you are a nineteen-year-old boy. Normal boys your age would be drunk already.” 

“I’ve never been normal, have I?” he said, and for some reason it came out sounding like Percy needed a baby violin. He wasn’t sure why he said it, maybe he just needed to tell her.  “I just—well, my stepfather was a drunk. He used to hit my mother although she’d never admit it. I don’t know, Alcohol freaks me out.”

“Makes sense,” she said. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Most demi-gods have similar stories. I’ll be alright. Gabe is dead anyway.”

“Still,” she said. “No one deserves that. It’s unfair that we have to live the lives we do.” For a moment she sounded like Luke. Maybe that was the trick? The older you got as a half-blood the more you realized just how fucked up everything actually was. 

“How about you?” he said. “What's your sob story?”

She was silent, and for a moment, it was like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the place. Her face was pale, and her eyes glossed over like there was a movie in her made, playing a recap of all the terrible things that had ever happened to her. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s all right. I just don’t ever really talk about it.” Her voice was raw, and so vulnerable. 

“You don’t have to,” he said. 

“My dad married my stepmom when I was three years old. She was great–wonderful actually. She couldn’t have children, and I didn’t have a mother, so we were connected at the hip. We weren’t born as a family , she always said. But we were a family by choice.”

Percy nodded. He wondered why in this dimension she actually had a close relationship with her stepmother. That hadn’t been the case before.

“When I was seven,” she continued. “The monster attacks started. They were relentless, and one day, she jumped in front of an Empossa, even though she couldn’t see it. She died in my arms.”

“Annabeth—”

“My father died a week later from cancer, and I was suddenly completely alone. I lived on the streets for a while, running from the monsters. Eventually, Grover found me and took me to Camp-Half Blood. I guess the rest is history. 

“Gods, Annabeth,” he said, not really knowing what else to say. 

“I know,” she said. “My life is a shit show. Nothing has ever gone right for me.”

“We’ll change that,” he said. “We’ll end his war. And then…”

“And then what?” she said with so much bitterness that he had never heard before. “The monsters will keep coming, children will keep going to war and dying for parents that don’t give a shit about them. It’s one giant revolving door of misfortune and pain.”

“I won’t be forever,” he said. He’d have to ask the gods again after the war was over to pay their child support and actually acknowledge their children. 

“No,” she said. “It will be. It's been this way for thousands of years, and it will continue for a thousand more unless something changes. Maybe, Luke had the right idea maybe the gods—”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Are you drunk? Because I’m pretty sure you just said, Luke was right.”

“I’m not drunk, Percy,” she said. “I haven’t had anything to drink the entire night.”

‘Well, clearly you are because you're saying some ridiculous things. Luke was a troubled boy who had all the right intentions but made all the wrong decisions. He dropped me into Tartarus, betrayed his family and friends, and killed a man in cold blood. He sided with the titans who literally ate their own children. Luke isn't someone you should look up to. It’s someone you should pity.”

She rolled her eyes. "For someone who saved the world multiple times you really are incredibly naive.”

“I’m not naive Annabeth,” he said, pushing his anger deep inside him. “No one could be when you’ve seen the things I have. But I see the big picture. No good ever comes from siding with someone like the titans. No matter how we’ve been wronged, they would destroy the world, send it into so much Chaos not even pandora's box would have enough hope to keep our world going. Luke was right that the gods have forgotten their own children. But the titans would kill us all. I’d rather be forgotten than dead.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” he said. “It’s alright. I get it. Change sounds great after all we’ve been through. We just have to make sure it’s the right kind of change.”

“Who would have guessed Percy Jackson knew all the secrets to the universe?” She said with a slight tinge of bitterness. “People always underestimate you, don’t they?”

 Percy nodded. “It usually gets them killed. I’m not the type of person to give people second chances”

“Would you give Luke a second chance?”

“Luke is complicated,” he said. “He was possessed by Kronos when he dropped me. I don’t know how much was him or not.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

 “I see you,” she said. “I understand you, you know.”

 “What do you see exactly?”

“A soldier trying to hold the world together with just his audacity and stupidity.” Percy frowned. That was all people ever really saw him as. He wasn’t a soldier–he was a survivor.

“I’m not a soldier,” he muttered. “Or a hero, or anything like that.”

“Then what are you?” she asked. “Who are you really? You always have your guard up, I’m not sure I've ever really seen the real you.”

“I’m just a teenage boy, Annabeth,” he said. “That’s all I've ever wanted to be. I don’t want to be the child of the next great prophecy or the next ill-fated hero everyone expects me to be. I just want a normal life. I want to go to college, go on dates with my girlfriend, get married, and have kids.”

“That does sound nice,” she said. “Do you think we’ll ever get it?”

“We can only hope,” he said. “We can focus on the small moments, choosing everyday to do what's right and not fall over that precipice.”

“You’re so—”

“So what?”

“Good. It’s honestly the most annoying thing about you.

“It’s just a part of my charm.”

“It’s a part of your idiocy.”

“Weird way to say I’m the most charming person you’ve ever met.”

“Oh shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Percy hadn’t realized when they had gotten so close. There was something in the air—some spark, like a burning fire on a hot summer day not even water could put out. 

When did this happen? They’d kissed before, sure. But it had been so random that he really didn’t know what to make of it. He had been an emotional mess, wanting comfort and some type of tether to his old life. But She had kissed him in the big house, and it had been playful and so quick he hadn’t really counted it as a kiss. 

But this?

Slowly—so slowly it was almost agonizing their mouths moved closer and closer together until they were hovering only a breath away.

If Percy kissed her now, there was no going back. There was no way they could ignore whatever it was between them and chalk it all up to high emotions.  

Annabeth made the decision for them.  Her hands snaked around his neck, and into his hair, pulling him down to her lips. He tasted the beer on her lips. Liar, he laughed. She wasn’t drunk but she had at least a little to drink.  Percy couldn’t help but to act immediately the moment their lips touched. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him

Something happened, something he couldn’t explain. He wasn’t sure who changed first, but suddenly the kisses became more - something wanting. The kiss spoke. It begged. And he wanted more - needed more.

He groaned softly, low in his throat, and then his arms circled her. He pushed her backwards, until suddenly her back hit the nearby bark of the tree. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, gentle but demanding, and it was nothing like he’d ever experienced.

They looked up at each other, both panting heavily. What was happening to them? Percy had never—-he had never really been like the stereotypical hormonal boy growing up—he’d been too busy saving the world to think about it. But now? It was like he was playing catch up, and all the feelings he had never felt before were hitting him all at once. And, he thought puberty had been bad.

Percy was feeling bold—outrageously so. Blame it on all his fucks that went flying out the window. But, one moment, Annabeth stood on the ground, and the next, he picked her up, sitting her down on the table. His hands rested on both her knees, pulling them gently apart and standing between them.

His mouth was on hers again, and this time he let his hands wander. He was careful at first making sure he didn’t cross any of her boundaries. He caressed her sides, her legs, her back but he never ventured too far. 

She smiled into his mouth. “You can touch me, you know?” She took his hand gently and placed it on her upper thigh. “It’s okay.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

She pulled him down to her not gently in the least. He pushed her legs further apart, standing so close to her that there was no way she couldn’t feel how aroused he was. His hands snaked up her body as they kissed, memorizing every inch of her, making a map of her body with his touch. When he gave her breast a small squeeze, she let out a moan, and he smiled knowing he had been the one to do that. It only encouraged him and made his body feel even hotter than it was before. 

His hands moved on his own accord, and he found his fingers at the button of her shirt. Annabeth froze for moment, and he stopped what he was doing completely. Gods, had he stepped too far?

"Here?" She asked. “But we could be seen.”

They could still hear the singing and loud voices from the party. Shadows of people dancing raced across the trees and ground. Annabeth's face was flushed, her hair a tangled mess, and lips cherry red. “We don’t have to do this, Annabeth,” he said. “We can stop, right now. Just say the word.”

She appeared uncertain--her eyes wide, and her breathing heavy. Percy observed the contemplation in her gaze as she reviewed all her options. “Don’t you dare stop,” she said, and that's the only invitation Percy needed.

They melded together and fit against one another with breathtaking perfection. Percy had never felt as he did now, exploring her taste, and inhaling her scent.  Strawberries, he realized, and honey. Annabeth’s hands were everywhere, on his back, on his chest, and in his hair. He didn’t mind it, in fact, with each touch he felt himself slowly losing control — slowly giving into the nonsensical tether that had been pulling them together. 

This was new territory for him. In the past, he’d always been gentle, his kisses sweet and naive. But this? This was fire, and ice. It was wanting and needing. If they kept going...well...

Percy opened her blouse slowly, twisting each button with his thumb and third finger. Each button popped open slowly- too slow. When her shirt finally fell open, his hands slid across her bare skin, leaving fire in his wake. They moved slowly until his hands were on the clasp of her bra.

He stopped before he took it off, "Is this, okay?"

She nodded at him, but he still didn't move. He needed her to say it—he wouldn’t go any further unless he knew without any doubt that Annabeth wanted this.  "I need you to say it."

"Yes, Percy," She said, "It's okay."

“Wait,” he said, shaking his head. What was he thinking? Annabeth deserved more than a quick time in the forest where anyone could see them.  “We can’t do this here.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.”

He slowly buttoned her shirt and brushed his hand through her messy hair. “No, but you deserve more than just a quick time in the pavilion, Annie. I respect you too much for that.”

She smiled at him. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“Trust me,” he said. “I’m anything but.” He put his hands around her waist, lifting her up from the table and back on solid ground. Her lips were red, her hair a mess, and he smirked knowing he had been the one to do that. 

“Where to?” she asked. She stood so close to him, their chests touching, and breath becoming one. 

“I know just the place,” he said, running a hand through her hair, she leaned into it, sighing.

Chapter Text

Before they had even closed the door of his cabin, Percy had Annabeth pressed against the wall, his lips attached to her neck, and his hands at her hips.  And then, before he even knew what he was doing, his mouth swooped down and captured hers in a hungry, searing kiss. Her lips were pleading, taking everything, he had to give and demanding even more.

Whatever had held them apart, whatever had restrained their bodies before, was now gone. Percy had lost all control and so had Annabeth. They were hungry, finally snapping, leaving no restraint. 

With one hand, he scooped up her leg, and she wrapped around him, pulling her even closer to him. The sweet friction was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He had to control himself or he would have come undone before they even started. 

“Do you want something to drink or something?” he asked, not really sure why. His mouth moved across her neck, his hand gently caressing her breasts and she melted into him.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Not really, no.”

He smirked. “Yeah, neither do I.” 

He walked her backwards, stumbling over a pair of shoes he left in the hall, a backpack, and a very obvious table. He’d probably have bruises in the morning from all the furniture he collided with. She threw her backpack on the ground haphazardly, spilling out books, Chapstick, and other random things. 

“Sorry,” he said, looking down at her spilled bag as he bumped into yet another piece of furniture. He didn’t remember having that many end tables before. 

 She laughed. “I’m going to burn all of your furniture.”

“I can always buy more. I love Ikea,” he said, and kissed her again. His hands moved through her hair, and he loved the feel of it. It was soft and felt like liquid sand against his fingertips. 

He moved his hand down her body until it was resting at the buttons of her shirt again. “Is this, okay?”

Taking off someone's clothes and walking backwards is surprisingly a lot harder than you would think. He’d always thought he was a good multitasker, but evidently, he wasn’t. He began to get frustrated, and not waiting another second, he pulled at the buttons of her shirt, and they snapped, falling to the floor. 

“That was my favorite shirt,” she said, hissing at him, looking at all the buttons that had rolled across the floor.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Personally, I think it looks better on the ground.” 

His lips were on hers again, and his hands roamed over her bare skin. His fingertips skimmed over her collarbone, and then down until they were at the tops of her breast.

Annabeth groaned, seeming growing impatient. “Percy. I need you to touch me.”  Her breath hitched, and it was one of the best sounds he thought he’d ever heard. She nodded, a small smile whispering on her lips.  

He didn't wait for a second; he moved his hands to the clasp of her bra and expertly pulled it away from her body. The bra fell to the ground, and suddenly she was bare to him. 

She looked perfect, but that wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t her body that kept his heart pounding in his chest or made him feel hot inside. It was the trust she had in him, it was the smile she had when he kissed her and her pink cheeks that blushed with every touch. 

He walked her back, until her legs were hitting the bed, and he was leaning her back so she could sit on it.  Kissing her on the bed was even better than kissing her against the wall, and the tree, and that goddamned picnic table. He was completely on top of her now, resting between her parted legs. 

They molded together and fit against one another with breathtaking perfection. Percy had never felt as he did now, exploring the feel and taste of her. He felt hot, almost like liquid fire was pouring through his veins, and Annabeth was the water he needed to cool down. He looked at her–at her stormy eyes, and thick lashes. Gods, she was perfect. 

“Tell me what you want,” he said, in hushed whispers even though they were the only people in the cabin. A bomb could have exploded, and Percy wouldn’t have noticed. At that moment they were the only people in existence in the entire universe. There were no gods, no campers, no monsters, or titans. It was just them. 

“I want you, Percy,” she said. 

“You have me,” he whispered to her. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific”

She took his hand, and lowered it to her center, her eyes never once leaving his. Luckily, Annabeth had chosen to wear a flowy skirt, and he wouldn’t have to deal with pulling off any ridiculous jeans. 

“Move,” she commanded him. Oh , he realized. Annabeth liked being in control, which really shouldn’t have been that surprising. He wondered how she would react if Percy was the one completely in control. 

He began moving his hand gently up and down against her clit. He started softly at first, and then harder, and faster, until she was gasping looking up at him with a flushed face and an open mouth.

“How does that feel, Annabeth?” he said, smiling as she was slowly becoming undone. She was writhing under him, her eyes closed as she was getting lost in the sensation. 

“I–”

He stopped moving completely, and she pushed herself up for more friction, but he pushed her back down roughly with one of his hands. “Use your words, Annabeth. I know you’re good with them.”

“Gods, it feels good. Please, Percy,” she said. Her back arched up, and she let out a small groan. 

He connected his hand again, and this time he moved it with abandon. She squirmed beneath him, and he could tell she was so close to the edge, he stopped. 

She opened her eyes, looking up at him in shock. “Percy?”

“What do you want Annabeth?” he asked her again. She moved her hand down to touch herself and finish what he started, but he ripped her hand away, pinning it to the bed.

“Do you want me to be gentle?” He asked. 

She shook her head. “Hell no.”

He was hoping she’d say that. He pulled her panties down her legs, throwing them across the room. 

She put his hands to his belt, helping him pull it off to join her discarded underwear. He pulled his jeans off his hips, and then his boxers, and lowered himself towards her.  

Annabeth’s eyes were wide for a moment as she looked at him, her breath coming out ragged. “You’re—”

He smirked. Yes, Percy knew he wasn’t lacking in certain departments, and smiled seeing Annabeth blush as she noticed it too. 

He dragged his hand across her skin, and she shuddered. Gently, he pushed one of his fingers inside of her, and if he hadn’t more self-control he would have come undone right there. Gods, she was wet and tight and incredible. 

When he knew she was ready, he prodded at her entrance, lining his cock up with her. 

He looked at her one more time. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her hand moving to his back, pulling him inside of her. She gasped as he slowly began to slide himself into her. He was gentle, trying to do anything too quickly, but dear gods, all he wanted to do was move within her. 

"Harder, please," she said.

He froze, not yet completely inside her, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, please."

He pulled out and he missed the feeling already, before slamming back into her, filling her, and making her breathless. She moved her hands across his body, but he grabbed them roughly and forced them above her head in one hand. His other hand found itself on her neck.

 In and out, each thrust was stronger, deeper, and harder than the last. Gods, she was tight and wet, and completely perfect. The feeling of her was slowly driving him crazy. 

His pace was brutal, completely taking. But Annabeth still wanted more, reacting to every touch and thrust as enthusiastically as him. He started to kiss down her neck, biting and sucking, leaving a constellation of bruises on her pale skin. 

Percy had had sex before. They weren’t anything very memorable–rushed times in closets, messy kisses and wandering hands when he was still young with the entire weight of the world on his shoulders... But this was different. It was all encompassing–the feeling of her around him–he never wanted it to stop.

He knew better than to call this, making love . Annabeth and him were doing nothing of the sort. It wasn’t gentle and sweet, slow and languid. They were fucking—no strings, no promises. 

He could feel her slowly losing control, her body shaking and her skin growing hotter and hotter. Her eyes were closed, and he didn’t think he had ever seen her look more beautiful. She gasped, and he could feel her around him pulsing as she reached her climax. He continued pounding into her through her orgasm, only to remain on top of her as he found his release right after hers.

“Oh my gods,” she sighed out. He thought she looked perfect now. Her hair was a mess across the pillow, and her face flushed. He was sure, he didn’t look much better. 

He pulled out of her, collapsing next to her on the bed. He kissed her lips gently—so different from a moment ago. “You were perfect.”

“That was…”

He raised an eyebrow at her and smiled. “What?”

She buried her head in the pillows, covering her blush. Percy wasn’t sure why he did it, but he pulled her towards him so their bodies were touching, wrapping an arm around her body, and resting his head in her hair.  He could feel her body automatically freeze and realized maybe he had crossed a line.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “If you aren’t–”

She smiled at him and melted into his arms. “No, it’s okay.”

She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. He could feel her heartbeat slow, and her breathing. Her face was completely relaxed, and he wondered when the last time she had actually taken a moment for herself was. 

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there. He wanted to stay there forever, but his body was aching, and a shower was calling him. He was sure by the time he showered and dried off she would still be asleep. 

“Mmmm,” she mused, when he carefully pulled himself away from her. He ran a hand through her curls and kissed her forehead gently before getting out of the bed. He pulled some clean clothes out of his dresser and went into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him. He started to run the water, and the room quickly filled with steam. He was about to step in when he realized there was nothing in there to actually wash up with. 

There was no shampoo. Of course, there was no shampoo—it wasn’t like he had time to drop by the nearest target after coming back from literal hell. 

He groaned, opening up the shower curtains. Annabeth always kept a little bottle of shampoo in her backpack in case they ever had to go on a quest. He’d have to borrow some. He was sure she wouldn't mind if he'd just refill it in the morning. 

He wrapped his towel around his waist and reentered the bedroom. Annabeth was still asleep, and almost laughed. She snored. It was cute. 

Her navy bag was in the corner of the room. There were still pencils and various items strewn across the floor from when she had dropped it on the ground after their not so careful make out session against the wall. They were going to have to talk about what happened at some point, but for now he couldn't be bothered.

He rummaged through the bag and sure enough, he pulled out a small toiletry bag. He saw the shampoo and body wash and was about to pull it out when something caught his eye. He would have missed it, if it hadn’t been shining so brightly. 

His heart stopped when he pulled it out. It couldn’t be…dear gods. It couldn’t be. He held the small item in his hand, the metal cool to the touch. 

It was a silver scythe.

Percy had felt panic before, but never like this. He couldn't breathe and he felt like he was drowning underwater, sounds roaring in his head. It couldn’t be…there had to be some sort of explanation for it. 

Before Annabeth could notice he’d been through her bag. He quickly put the charm back, putting everything in the exact same place he had seen it. 

He moved to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He wasn’t sure what made him do it—the disbelief or the utter betrayal. But he turned the water on to the highest possible setting and walked into it. His body slid down the linoleum wall, and he sat in the shower, letting the water hit him. 

He wanted to punch a wall until his knuckles bled, he wanted to actually travel back in time or go to another dimension that was far away from where he was. 

Never before had he felt so completely exhausted while in water. It was like the truth had sucked what little energy he had left right out of his body. He felt numb, completely devoid of anything. 

The one person he thought he could trust. The one person that he never even considered being the spy had betrayed them.

Gods, he had just—they had just. He had just fucked her and the whole time she had been lying to him–using him. He had trusted her with the truth about him, and she probably had told Luke and Kronos the moment he had. 

He barely made it to the toilet before he threw up everything that was in his stomach. His hands gripped the toilet bowl tightly as he emptied his stomach.  Once everything had left his body, he went back under the scalding water, and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there letting him water. Steam covered the entire bathroom, coating him in sweat but he couldn’t seem to care.

He felt nothing.

How had he been so stupid? How had he not seen it?

He looked back on everything–everything little thing she had ever said to him. The signs were all there if you knew where to look. She had always looked so afraid when he mentioned he was going to stop whoever stole the bolt. She had almost looked guilty when he'd been around the campfire with Luke before he went on the quest. 

Then there were the other things he should have noticed. He never even thought to ask her why she had left the hotel room all those years ago on their quest. He’d just assumed she hadn’t been able to sleep. But, what if she had actually been going to tell Kronos everything?

The pieces started to fit together firmly the more he thought about it. She’d never told Chiron he had sworn on the River Styx he hadn’t stolen the boat. Why would she not even mention that to him? Probably because she wanted him to take the blame. 

She had thrown herself at him so quickly and Percy had been such a mess that he hadn’t even questioned it—it hadn’t even crossed his mind. He knew something had felt wrong—was wrong, but he did nothing.

Gods, he was an idiot. 

Percy left the shower clean, yet somehow feeling dirty somehow. He had trusted her–completely trusted her and yet, she’d been lying to him the entire time. 

He opened the bathroom door, and for a moment he could only stare at her. How could he have possibly been stupid enough to trust her? He had been so attached the memories of the people that he once knew that it never once even occurred to him that she could be a traitor to camp

“Percy?” she asked, sitting up from the bed, her blanket still wrapped around her chest. Oh gods, they had—and she had been lying to him the whole time.  “Percy,” she asked again, furrowing her brows. “What is it? What's wrong?”

He plastered a smile on his face. He couldn’t let her know he knew. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

She raised an eyebrow almost teasingly. “I don’t believe you. You don’t regret–”

Before she could say anything or ask any questions, Percy crossed the expanse of the room, wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her. He kissed her hard, and unrelentingly, slamming her body so close to him so there wasn’t even a centimeter between them.  She smiled into his lips, the whole time, he couldn’t forget that she was a traitor. 

“Of course I don't regret it,” he said, lying through his teeth. 

“Good,” she said. “I don't know what I would do if you did.” Probably betray them again most likely. 

She pulled his shirt pulling him closer towards her. He let out a fake laugh and pulled himself away. 

“We have to get ready for the day,” he said. ‘What will people think?” He didn’t have any other excuses. If he didn’t play along, she would realize something was wrong. 

She rolled her eyes, and tightened the hold on his shirt, pulling him back in. “Since when have you ever cared what people thought?” So quickly he almost stumbled, her mouth was on his again, and she was pulling him towards the bed.

Chapter Text

The digital clock on the bedside table blinked a stark 7:02 AM. Percy hadn’t slept the entire night, instead he kept one eye on the sleeping woman next to him. She looked so normal next to him—peaceful even—-like she hadn’t betrayed them or him completely 

Her golden hair was spread across the pillow in a halo, making her look far younger that she actually was. Her breathing was steady and controlled, completely unaware that he had figured out her secret.  

For a moment, he could almost pretend that everything that happened last night was one giant nightmare that had never happened. But the moment the sun came out, streaming through the window, and the birds sang their morning songs, he was brought back to the brutal reality that it hadn’t been a dream. No, Annabeth had been playing with him the entire time, kissing him to cover up her carefully crafted lies. . 

He pulled himself out of bed, careful not to wake her. He wouldn’t be able to hide his feelings if he had to pretend to be the perfect couple when she woke up. He might end up throwing up in the bathroom again, shaking on his hands and knees. 

The wooden floorboards of his cabin creaked gently as he sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The chilly air whispered through the open window, carrying the scent of dew-kissed leaves and distant, neighing horses. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his bare feet firmly on the ground, feeling the uncomfortable chill seep into his toes.

He could still feel the ghost of her touches and kisses on his skin. He couldn’t believe that only a few hours ago he had fallen for her, made love to her– all the while she was lying to him. And then after she had pulled him to the bed and he slept with her again, making him feel dirty and wrong—like he was just as terrible as her. 

After the disbelief faded, anger reared its ugly head. He had to get out of that cabin before he did something he would regret. 

He showered quickly, scrubbing off all the lies off of his body. He washed himself until his body was bright red, and blood poured from parts of his skin where he had rubbed too hard. 

Before Annabeth could wake up, he left his cabin, his legs carrying him to the training yard. He needed to do something to get the anger out of his system. 

He obliterated the training dummy. In a few short moments it was in a thousand splinters all across the sandy area. He stopped for a moment, chugged some water and grabbed another dummy

He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been.

HIT. 

He wanted to murder Luke Castellan. 

HIT

He wanted to murder Annabeth Chase

Hit. 

He wanted to go home. 

“What did that training dummy ever do to you?” Annabeth asked. 

“It looked at me the wrong way,” he said, and chopped its head off. She was lucky he didn’t chop off her head with riptide then. 

“You, okay?” she asked, tentatively walking towards him. “You seem–”

For a moment he could only stare at her—she looked the same but different somehow. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her curls framing her face. She had an orange camp shirt on, but there were dark stained leathers on top of it. She looked ready for war.  She was slightly shorter than Percy with a lithe build that spoke of speed and agility, but she knew despite how small she was, she wasn’t someone to underestimate. 

He plastered a fake smile on his face, and he could see her relax instantly. “Yeah,” he said. “I just needed to get some training in. “

“From the looks of it, you don’t need much,” her eyes wandered to the shards of wood all across the yard with a raised eyebrow.

His hand tightened on Riptide. “Kronos’s armies are coming in six days. I have to be prepared for anything. We still don’t know who the spy is…and Luke is missing…and I’m tired Beth.”

“You know,” she said, quickly changing the subject. “I’ve never really seen you fight. I wasn’t really paying attention when you took out that dragon.”

How had he noticed before? She was so quick to change the subject if Luke or the spy was ever brought up. It was obvious. 

He smiled, but he felt no happiness. “I’ve been called the greatest swordsman to ever live, you know? I have a few tricks.”

“You’re cocky. Spar with me?” she asked. “I’ve never fought you.”

Percy tried to reign in all his emotions. He’d have to be careful not to lose control when they fought, or Annabeth might accidentally find her way to the underworld. 

“Why not?” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Be prepared to lose.” He meant it. Annabeth was going to lose more than just a simple spar before the end. He was going to obliterate her and make her ever regret betraying them before the end. 

Annabeth pulled out her knife from its sheath. Looking at it now, he wondered if it was cursed anymore. Afterall, no promises had ever been broken between her and Luke. No, the only promises she had broken had been to him. 

Percy’s sword, sliced through the air with a swiftness that surprised even him. Annabeth’s eyes went wide– taken off guard. She humped back just in time, the blade nearly missing her. 

“Percy—” Annabeth said. “What the hell?”

He swung his sword in an arc, the blade moving easily between his hands. “What? I know you're skilled, Beth. Show me what you're made of.” He swung his sword again, and this time Annabeth met his strikes with a grace that was almost mesmerizing, her blade a gold blur as it danced around his own. 

Annabeth was good, but Percy was better. 

He was toying with her, making false openings for her, only to protect them at the last moment, bringing his sword down to meet her knife sharply. She darted all around him, weaving and swerving, but Percy knew exactly how she fought, knew what to expect and how to make her angry. 

He watched her with rapt attention, taking in her breathing, her body language, the way her muscles tightened when she was about to move. The girl was losing patience, frustration building up in her body. Annabeth was anything but patient. 

Percy was having fun. Consider it a type of sadistic payback. 

Annabeth was having anything but fun. Her brow was slick with sweat, and she had on her thinking face. Whenever there was a problem she couldn’t solve, the skin between her eyes would wrinkle together. 

With one final flick, he twisted his sword around her knife, just like Luke had taught him all those years ago. Immediately, the knife went flying out of her hand, landing several feet away. 

Annabeth stared at him, her breathing heavy and eyes wide. “You?” 

‘What?” he asked. He knew he was good. He just hoped Annabeth now realized that he wasn’t someone you wanted on your bad side. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” she said. “I knew you were strong, but—that was almost inhuman.”

Percy shrugged. “You don’t live as long as I do if you can’t hold your own.”

“I know but,” Annabeth looked shocked, like she realized for the first time exactly who she betrayed. “That was—”

“Have I rendered you speechless, Miss Chase,” he flirted. “I know of some more ways to keep you quiet if you want to try it out.”

The blush on her face was instantaneous. “Percy—”

“What?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “You weren't so shy the other night. I could always show you what I mean right now.”

He grabbed her neck, cupping her cheek gently, and pulling her towards him. Then before she could question anything, he pulled her in for a kiss. 

It wasn’t gentle or loving. He poured all of his anger into it, pulling her body so close to him that he probably left bruises. He hoped he did. When she met with Luke, he wanted him to know just what they had done. It was almost like he was leaving some weird claim to her. 

He pulled away from her, and Annabeth was looking up at him dazed. 

“Percy—”

“What?” he said, smirking at her. 

He pretended to be the stupid boy she thought he was, acting solely on his hormones. He needed her to think that she had him wrapped around her little finger. It was the only way he’d ever get her to make a mistake. 

"You’re whipped,” a voice said. Both Annabeth and Percy tore themselves apart to see Clarisse standing there with Nico, smirking at them. 

“Clarisse,” he asked, fumbling over his words. “What are you doing here?”

She looked around the training yard and he felt himself blush. “What am I doing in the public training yard where any poor demigod could stumble upon. I don’t know.”

“Right,” he said. “Sorry.”

“How long has this been going on,” she said, swirling her hands between the two of them. “I had no idea.”

“Since last night,” Annabeth said. If it was possible her face was even redder than his. 

“Last night?” Nico said, raising an eyebrow and Percy suddenly felt the urge to jump off the empire state. “You mean—”

“Okay,” Percy said, clapping his hands together loudly. “This has been a lovely conversation. I’m going to go anywhere that isn’t here.”

“Percy–” Annabeth started. 

Before he left, he smiled at her gently, pushing down the bile in his throat. “I’ll see you soon, okay? I just need to talk to Chiron about something.”

Before he could think better of it, he kissed her gently, and turned and walked away quickly before he could see her response. He walked briskly trying to get as far away from them as possible. He really didn’t want to talk about his sex life in front of everyone. 

“Percy,” he heard Clarisse’s voice behind him. Gods why couldn’t people just leave him alone. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“To take a nap, prepare for a war, maybe eat some breakfast,” he said, continuing to walk. “I haven’t really decided yet.”

“Could you decide at a slower walking pace?” she asked. 

He huffed like a child and slowed down. “Sorry.”

“What’s going on with you and Annabeth?” she said, rather abruptly. Whatever happened to him, or how are you?

The question he was dreading. “We’re a thing, I guess.”

“You guess?’ Clarisse asked, her voice filled with accusation. “That kiss was—”

“What?” he snapped. “Jealous?” He cringed. He had no reason to be rude to Clarisse, she wasn’t the one who he was mad at. 

“Oh, fuck off Jackson,” she said. “Of course not. You went from fighting her like you were going to chop her head off, to kissing her like she still wanted to chop her head off.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? It’s good foreplay.”

“I’m not an idiot, Jackson,” she said. “Something is wrong.”

Who would have guessed that Clarisse was the one able to see through him so clearly? It was an odd friendship the two had formed. 

“Clarisse,” he said. He ran his hand through his hair, untangling all the knots. “I promise I’ll tell you everything soon. Grab Nico, Will, Chiron and Mr. D at the big house. I’ll explain everything then. Just—” he cut off looking back at Annabeth who was waving her arms around to Nico and she spoke. “Just don’t tell Annabeth.” His heart skipped a beat. “Whatever you do, do not tell Annabeth.”

Clarisse went still, every muscle in her body suddenly filled with tension. “You don’t trust her, do you?”

Percy’s head snapped to her. Had Clarisse figured it out? Was it obvious to everyone besides himself? “Don’t tell me–”

“I’ve had my suspicions,” she whispered. “But I wasn’t sure. Things haven’t been adding up. I don’t want to believe it. But–”

“It’s true.”

She looked up at him. “Why? Why were you kissing her then?”

“I didn’t know until last night,” he admitted. “Not until after–”

“Oh gods,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

“If I stop everything now, she’ll know we know,” he explained. “I hate it. But we all have to pretend like nothing is wrong. I’ll explain everything to everyone later. Just make sure you can get them all to the big house before dinner. Annabeth is teaching some younger kids during then and will have no idea.”

Clarisse nodded. “Of course. Are you sure–”

“She had a silver scythe, Clar,” he said. “It’s her.”

“Are you alright?” she asked him. “She betrayed you.”

Percy was anything but alright. He was angry, guilty, depressed, and sad. But he needed to protect the camp, so none of it mattered. It was all just dust in the wind. 

“No,” he confessed. “I’m not alright. But I will be.”

“Percy, my boy,” Chiron asked. “What is wrong? Why have you called us here?”

For a moment, Percy could only stare at the people in the room with him. At one point in his life, they had all been so close to him. They’d been friends–no–they were family.  Now, they were nothing but strangers who had no idea who he really was. T hey stared at him with apprehension and mistrust. It made the room in the big house feel smaller than it ever had in his entire life. He had thought it had been suffocating when he read the great prophecy in there all those years ago. But something about this was even worse. 

Nico stood in the shadows, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. Will was slumped on the coach, looking exhausted. The poor boy probably hadn’t been getting much sleep after the attack– too busy taking care of all the sick and injured.  Clarisse stood by him. And some part of her presence calmed him. If not for her, he probably would have run out of the room and never looked back.  Leo and Piper were also there, looking downright confused to be in a room with the counselors in what looked like an extremely important meeting. Off in the corner was Mr. D and Chiron as well, looking just as confused as the others. 

“Thank you all for coming,” he said, looking around all the familiar faces. “I’m sure you’re all confused.”

“What the hell is going on,” Nico snapped, and Percy just sighed. 

Percy looked down at the boy. He put on the facade of the war-veteran, the leader, the praetor of Rome he had spent years being. He hadn’t been that person in so long–hadn’t really wanted to be that person if he was honest. Being that person reminded him of the past, and of all the things he had to do to survive over the years. Sure, maybe he should have been proud of it. But all he could feel was the exhaustion.

He thought he had put it in his past a long time ago. He had wanted to forget about it all. He was surprised how easy it was to slip back into. Narrowed eyes, an impassive face no one could read, and strong shoulders. E veryone seemed to notice the change immediately, tension radiating through the air like static electricity. Nico took a step back, and he felt Clarisse put a hand on his shoulder, but he ignored it. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could even see Leo sit up straight, listening carefully. This wasn't a joke, and he knew it. 

“I was about to tell you, Nico,” he said, almost bored sounding. "Maybe you should sit down and give me a chance to speak?"

“Right,” he stuttered. “Sorry.” He sat down on the chair next to Will, seemingly sinking into the threadbare cushions. 

“Thank you for coming,” he said again, trying to remain calm. He needed to be leader for them and strong. “I know you all have many questions. But I would appreciate it if you waited until the end.”

There was a chorus of nods all around them. He took a deep breath and steadied his beating heart. 

 “I know who the spy is,” he said rather abruptly. He didn’t want to say it, because if he told them, it would make it real. It wouldn’t be something that was just in his head—no, it would be real.

He had everyone's attention now. They were all wide- eyed and scared. Gods, they looked so young. Had he always been that young? He felt so much older. 

“Well,” Mr. D said, “Finally. Spit it out then.” He had almost forgotten Mr. D and Chiron were in the room. It was odd how Percy used to be so afraid of the god—he couldn’t even say his name. But now, he couldn’t even fucking care. 

“It’s Annabeth Chase.”

The room exploded.

Chapter Text

It was as if a bomb had gone off in the room. All at once, everyone was out of their seats, yelling and screaming at Percy. The room descended into pandemonium—a chaotic blend of wild arms and jeers, all aimed at him. Voices merged into a cacophony of outrage and disbelief.

Percy had anticipated this and, for a moment, let them vent their anger. They deserved some catharsis, even if it was directed at him.

“Hey,” he yelled above the noise, but no one listened.

“Hey,” he yelled again.

Percy calmed his beating heart and focused. He wasn’t a charm speaker—he was nothing like Piper. But, at that moment, he put every ounce of magic into his words, willing them to understand.

“Hey!”

All at once, the room stopped, and the people looked at him as if noticing him for the first time.

“Why don’t we all use inside voices? I’ll answer your questions, but I can’t do that if you’re all screaming like a group of kindergartners at recess.”

The group seemed to calm down, returning to their seats. However, the tension was still palpable.

“This has to be a joke,” Piper said, surprisingly the first to speak. “I mean, it’s Annabeth.”

“I know,” Percy said. “It’s hard to believe, but it's the truth.”

“Stop,” Nico said, his voice quiet but firm, cutting through the tumult. “You’re not making any sense. Annabeth would never do this to us, to you. This has to be some kind of sick joke.”

“It’s not a joke, Nico,” Percy replied. “I wish it were.”

Sometimes, Percy felt like his life was one giant knock-knock joke. He was always guessing who was on the other side of the door, waiting for some god-awful punchline the Fates had created for him.

“Percy, my boy,” Chiron said, his voice soft and vulnerable, sadness etched deep in his bones. Percy wondered if Chiron mourned every camper he lost, if Annabeth’s name was now being added to that list.

“This is ridiculous,” Piper said. “Annabeth would never. She hates the Titans more than anything.”

“She hates the gods more,” Percy countered, knowing it to be true. Anger was a powerful motivator.

No one was really listening to his words, too busy pacing about the room, shaking their heads in disbelief. Clarisse was the only one not freaking out, but her head hung low, as if she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Nico shook his head, looking as though he might vomit. He stepped closer to Percy, his face flushed with anger. “No, this is impossible. You’re wrong. You have to be wrong. I thought you two were in a relationship. How could you say this about her?”

Relationship? Ha. What a joke it was.

Percy felt everyone's eyes boring into him, staring into his very soul. “I found the scythe in her bag, Nico. I don’t want to believe it. The thought makes me sick. But it’s the truth.”

“Maybe she has an explanation?” Leo suggested, his voice strangely subdued. “I mean, she wouldn’t—she couldn’t. We could just ask her. Maybe she just found the scythe?”

“Yeah,” Clarisse said, her tone bitter. “She just found it, then hid it in her backpack and didn’t tell anyone about it? Because that isn’t suspicious at all.”

“We could always ask her,” Leo repeated, and Percy was taken aback by the boy’s naivety. Had Leo always been this naïve? After all, Leo had been the one to yell at Percy about Calypso not being freed when Percy had literally lost his memory and couldn’t do anything about it.

Percy shook his head, anger and hurt swirling inside him like a maelstrom. “We definitely cannot ask her. If she’s the spy and we tell her we know, we lose any chance of having the upper hand. Right now, she thinks she’s fooled us all. We can use that.”

The room fell silent, realization dawning on their faces. “You want us to pretend that nothing is wrong?” Clarisse asked. “You really trust us to do that?”

“Every person in this room is here because I trust them,” Percy said, his gaze sweeping over the group. “I don’t want to believe this is true any more than you do.”

The group fell silent again, the weight of Percy’s words sinking in. He could see the doubt in their eyes, the disbelief twisting their features.

Nico stepped forward; his expression serious. “Percy, if there’s any chance you’re wrong—”

“I’m not wrong!” Percy snapped. Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he added, “I trusted her! For fuck’s sake, I—”

He clamped his mouth shut before he could reveal too much.

Percy felt his face redden as the group looked at him knowingly. God, he felt like such an idiot, and now they knew it too.

Piper spoke next, pushing Percy’s patience to the brink. “I don’t know, maybe she has an explanation? This isn’t like her. I don’t think she would, you know? If you did, she wouldn’t have a reason.”

“An explanation?” Percy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s she gonna say? ‘Oops, my bad, I was just using you for information?’ And what do you mean this isn’t like her? I’ve heard her rant about her hatred of the gods—are we really that surprised?”

Percy sighed, looking up at Piper apologetically. “I’m sorry. You aren’t to blame. I have no reason to take my anger out on you. I’m just—”

Tired. He was tired.

Everyone fell silent. They had all probably considered turning against the gods at some point. Even Percy himself had thought about it once.

“I have a plan to find out if I’m right or not,” he said, feeling exhaustion in his bones. “Believe it or not, I don’t like to accuse people out of nowhere.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “What’s the plan, Jackson?”

“We send out a fake scouting party. Put me, Clarisse, Nico, and Will on it. Enough powerful half-bloods will be too good for them to pass up on. We tell no one except for Annabeth. If it leaks, we know who the spy is. It’s easy.”

Percy knew there were thousands of ways the plan could go wrong, but they would sort all those details out later.

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Nico said.

“I’m not as stupid as I look.”

Nico shook his head. “I never thought you were stupid, Jackson.”

“Percy, are you sure about this?” Chiron asked. No, but he didn’t have any other options. They wouldn’t believe him no matter what he said if they didn’t have proof.

“Read him the prophecy, Chiron,” Mr. D said, his gaze unwavering. Percy had never seen the man look so serious before.

“The prophecy?” Percy asked, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“Yes, Percy,” Mr. D said. “The Great Prophecy. It’s about time you heard it.”

“As long as it doesn’t end with my death being sung about in legends, then I’m fine.”

He wondered, not for the first time, if he was destined to fight monsters and gods for the rest of his life. Why was there always another prophecy? Why couldn’t he ever get some rest? Wasn’t there anyone else the gods could ask to clean up their messes?

“Percy,” Chiron said gently. “Are you ready?”

“I always am,” he replied.

Chiron held out a small, thin scroll. The paper was aged and yellow, crisp to the touch. How could something so small be so important?

“A child of the eldest gods shall reach twenty against all odds.”

The words felt dry in his mouth, but he kept going, afraid that if he stopped, he wouldn’t have the courage to continue.

“In shattered skies, a war shall wage, and the fate of all rests on a hero’s rage. When ancient foes unite in need, rivals shall bleed for a single creed. A single choice will end her days— Olympus preserve or raze.”

For a moment, Percy couldn’t breathe or think. Prophecies, he knew from experience, could mean so many different things.

The last prophecy he’d been part of had predicted his death, which had, in a way, come true when he fought Kronos. He still didn’t know what to make of that and had been trying not to think about it.

“At least your death isn’t resounding this time,” Will said, and Percy couldn’t help but laugh. Will hadn’t been there to hear the last prophecy, but it had been so ominous it had probably spread around camp like wildfire.

“I’m not sure this one sounds much better,” Percy said. “I don’t like the idea of a war and the fate of everyone resting on a hero’s rage.”

“Do you feel pretty rageful?” Clarisse asked. “I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you do.”

She looked at him as if he were moments away from exploding. He felt like there was a giant timer over his head, and everyone was waiting for him to blow up and have a mental breakdown.

But he wouldn’t give the gods the satisfaction of seeing him break. He could do this, just like he always did. He’d defeat whatever monster destiny threw at him and then go get a drink.

“Percy, my boy,” Chiron said, his voice gentle. “Are you alright?” Next to him, Mr. D rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Of course he isn’t alright, Chiron,” Mr. D said. “But if you think a little thing like fear is going to stop Jackson, then I don’t think you’ve been paying attention. You won’t let them stop you, will you, Perseus?”

Percy felt a small smile creep up. “Hell no.”

Percy turned to Nico, an idea flashing through his mind. It was probably the stupidest thing he’d ever do, or maybe the greatest.

“Nico,” he said, “I think I know how to win this war. But I’m going to need your help. I may have an idea to stand a chance when the Titans arrive, and to find out if Annabeth is the traitor.”

“What is it, Jackson?” Nico asked, his voice sharp and short. Everyone around the room looked at them in confusion.

“I think it’s time we contacted our friends in California, don’t you think?” Nico’s face turned paler than Percy had ever seen it. Both Chiron and Mr. D’s heads snapped up, their eyes widening.

“Fucking hell,” Nico said. “The gods are going to kill you.”

“Jackson,” Mr. D said, shaking his head. “This isn’t really what I meant. Do I even know how you know about them?”

“You should blame Hera for that,” Percy said. “And the fucking queen of dirt.”

“Oh,” Mr. D said, rubbing his forehead. “I think I need a drink.”

Percy couldn't help but agree. "I need some air. I'm sure you all have plenty of things you need to think over. I'll leave. But remember, I'm telling you the truth."

With that, Percy marched across the room and flung the door of the big house open, leaving them all behind. The moment, the door closed he felt himself breathe. A burst of cold air flooded through his lungs. He leaned against the door, letting himself calm down for a small moment. 

He started walking, his feet taking on a mind of his own, and like always he found himself by the lake.

The lake sprawled out like a liquid mirror, its surface gently rippling under the caress of a soft breeze. The water, clear as polished glass, shimmered with hues of turquoise and sapphire, reflecting the late afternoon sky—a mosaic of oranges and purples that whispered the promise of twilight. A gentle, rhythmic lapping of the water against the shore provided a soothing, almost hypnotic backdrop.

What he wouldn't give to see his father in that moment. He sat down in the sand, squeezing it between his fingers. He longed for his mother, and simpler days. His mother’s laughter, warm and reassuring, had been the soundtrack to those days, filling their small apartment with a sense of security. The lake’s serene beauty reminded him of their weekend outings to similar spots, where she’d weave tales of adventure and magic that had once seemed like the stuff of dreams. Now, in the stillness of the evening, those memories felt like a distant but cherished sanctuary, a reminder of a time when the world felt a little less complicated.

What he wouldn't give to actually go back in time. In retrospect, there were so many things he'd do and change. But you can never go back, all you can do is move forward.

"I miss you," he said outload. He missed a lot of things. His friends, his Annabeth, Jason, and Nico, and Thalia. His heart wept for all of them.

"You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity," a voice said.

He turned around and his heart jumped when he realized who it was. "Annabeth?"

"Percy!" she said. She was dripping with sweat, her hair thrown up in a high ponytail from the class she just taught. 

"Is everyone okay?" she asked. "I can't find anyone." She looked at him again sitting alone on the beach. "Are you okay?

Percy decided now was the perfect time to plant the seeds of his plan. Deep in his heart, he really hoped he was wrong. He hoped Annabeth had some explanation and that everything was all one enormous misunderstanding. He didn't want to hate her. As mad has he was, every time he looked at the girl, he saw the person who he had grown to care for. 

In the end, if it came down to just the two of them, would he be able to kill her?

"Percy--"

"Oh, Yeah, sorry, " he said. "They're all in the big house. We had an emergency meeting. We want to send out a small scouting group to see how far away they are. I just pray they aren't marching too fast."

"Oh yeah," she said. She sat down next to him, pulling her legs up to her chin. "That's probably a good idea. Whose all going?"

He smiled. It was too late to go back now. "Me, Nico, Will, and Clarisse. It will be quick. You won't even realize we left."

"Oh," she said, frowning. Her hands started moving across the sand, and Percy grabbed it. She looked up at him, surprised, but didn't let go. In fact, her body moved closer to him, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. 

"I'll be back, okay? Everything will be fine." He stared out at the water, its once peaceful waves, now storming.

Percy sat at a small table in the corner of a dimly lit coffee shop, the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping him. The shop had a cozy, almost nostalgic feel with its mismatched chairs and soft jazz playing in the background. The barista, a cheerful young man named Jake, was engaged in animated conversation with a regular at the counter. Percy glanced at the clock on the wall; it was five minutes past their meeting time.

Percy was doing his best to remain calm, and thankfully, he was managing it. His fingers drummed lightly on the table as he tried to focus on anything but the anxiety gnawing at him. Nico, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. He could see the beads of sweat rolling down Nico’s face, his fingers ceaselessly picking at his nails as if they were the enemy. It was a stark contrast to the Nico Percy remembered—always composed, hiding his emotions behind a mask of calm indifference. But this was a Nico who had found his sister and hadn’t been trapped in a jar, so it made sense that he would be on edge.

“Why did you choose for us to meet here?” Percy asked, attempting to break the tension. “There are better coffee shops in New York.”

Nico rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his latte, clearly irritated. “Shut up, Jackson. They should be here any moment.”

Percy leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and surveying the surroundings. “I mean seriously, Starbucks is better than this, and I hate Starbucks.”

Nico’s annoyance was palpable. “Percy—”

“Sorry,” Percy interrupted, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll shut up and pay attention.”

The bell above the door jingled, causing Percy’s heart to leap into his throat. He looked up, hoping to see their visitors. It was only a pair of tourists, laughing and snapping photos of the coffee shop’s quirky decor. Percy let out a sigh of relief and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Maybe something had come up. Maybe something terrible had happened, and that’s why they were delayed.

Nico seemed to sense Percy’s growing impatience. “Has anyone told you you’re kind of terrifying?”

Percy raised an eyebrow at Nico. “Oh?”

“I don’t know,” Nico said, his voice low. “It’s just the way you carry yourself. People can’t help but listen to you. Sometimes you just look like the things going on inside your head are too complex for the rest of us to grasp.”

Percy struggled to suppress a laugh. Little did they know, he was often preoccupied with mundane thoughts like tacos and avoiding death. “I don’t know, man,” Percy said. “I don’t mean to be that way.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

Percy raised his eyebrow again, curious about what the boy meant.

“You radiate power,” Nico declared, his tone serious. “I’ve encountered many demigods, but none like you. They say some demigods resemble their mortal parent more than their divine one, but you—” he paused, searching for the right words, “—you seem to stand closer to the gods than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“I used to believe that the gods were all-knowing, Nico, that they were invincible and beyond challenge,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “But I’ve come to understand the real reason they turn their backs on us: it’s fear. They fear that if they ever acknowledged us, we’d no longer be consumed with proving ourselves to them. Instead, we might actually realize that we don’t need them.”

Percy wasn’t really sure why he was telling Nico this, or what brought it on. But something compelled him to speak anyway.

Nico seemed to grow paler, if that was even possible. “Percy—”

“The truth is we are more powerful than them,” It was blasphemous what he was saying. Zeus was probably waiting to smite him at that very moment. “They don’t want us to take their place. And that’s just the way of the world, isn’t it? Children always surpass their parents one day.”

“Do you think you surpass them?”

“I’m angry enough that I want to,” he admitted. “But we’re better than them, Nico. The very thing they think makes us weak makes us strong.”

“What is that?”

Percy smiled. He was happy he had declined godhood all those years ago. He never wanted to be a god, and he was better for it.

Percy was about to respond when the bell above the door jingled once more. He looked up, and in that instant, everything seemed to blur out of focus. A chill ran down his spine as he felt his soul momentarily disconnect from his body, an eerie sensation that felt all too familiar.

There, in the doorway, stood two people he didn’t think he’d ever see again. It was like he was looking at ghosts or an old photograph of people that you used to know. Percy’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt a rush of emotion.

“Jason Grace,” Percy said, standing up from his chair, his voice carrying a mix of relief and enthusiasm. “Thalia Grace. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Jason didn’t smile at him, and Percy yearned for the familiarity they used to share. “Percy Jackson,” Jason said, extending his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“Jason, Thalia, let’s get started,” he said, gesturing for them to sit. “Shall we?”

END OF PART III

Chapter Text

Percy had imagined reuniting with his friends thousands of times, but he had never imagined it would be at a dingy Pret A Manger on 59th Street, surrounded by tourists yelling at a barista in French. For a moment, he could only stare at his friends.

Thalia and Jason had an aura about them that screamed power. He wondered if this was wh at his Thalia would have been like had she been trained in Rome instead of being turned into a tree. She was calm, calculative, and not at all amused by the situation she was in.

Not that Percy blamed her. He wasn’t necessarily amused either.

Jason, on the other hand, was looking at Percy as if sizing him up. He was a puzzle Jason needed to solve, and at the moment, he was missing several important pieces.
“So,” Jason asked, “why exactly are we here? No offense, but Nico wasn’t very specific when he told us there was someone we should meet.”

“And why at Pret A Manger?” Thalia quipped.

Percy glared at Nico, who at least had the decency to look a little sorry. He knew Pret had been a bad idea. "They  have great lattes,” he said, shrugging and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Percy—” Nico warned.

“Right, sorry,” Percy said. He turned back to Thalia and Jason, who looked highly amused. “I’m sure you’re both confused about why you’re here.”

“At a Pret A Manger?” Jason asked. “We could have at least met at Starbucks, Irving Farm, Gregory’s, or literally any other coffee shop in New York.”

Percy held in a laugh and folded his hands on the table. “Thank you for coming and taking this leap of faith.”

"Nico didn’t really give us a reason not to,” Thalia explained. “He said it was a matter of life and death.”

Percy sighed. “It is. Lives are depending on us and this meeting. I don’t mean to scare you, but I need you to understand how serious this is.”

Jason and Thalia exchanged looks, as if they could read each other’s minds. They seemed to say so much in a single glance. Thankfully, Percy had their attention. All at once, the two pulled out chairs and sat down at th e table. Jason leaned back, crossing his arms. “How exactly can we help you?” Jason asked. “All due respect, but I have no idea who you are.”

“It’s about the Titans,” Percy said. The moment he mentioned them, he could practically see the curiosity burning in Jason’s brain.

“What about them?” Thalia asked, suspicion evident in her voice. “You’re not on their side, are you?”

“I think we can stop them,” Percy said. “But only if we work together.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Jason said. “You seem like a relatively normal guy.”

Nico snorted. “Yeah, relatively.”

“Before I tell you anything,” Percy continued, “I need you all to swear on the River Styx that you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to say.”

“I’d like to know what we’re swearing to first,” Thalia said, shifting uncomfortably. “It could be dangerous.”

“Listen—” Percy started.

Thalia opened her mouth to object, but Percy cut her off. “It is dangerous, but the alternative is worse.”

“I’m sure you’re great and all,” Jason said, “and Nico likes you, which says something, but we don’t know you. How can we trust you?”

“Trust that I hate the Titans. Trust that I want to protect demigods, and I would never hurt them. I’m not a spy, if that’s what you’re worried about. I won’t turn you all into Kronos.”

“Fine,” Thalia said. “I swear on the River Styx not to tell anyone what you’re about to say without your express permission. Does that make you happy?”

Percy smiled. “Nico and I aren’t Roman.”

“Percy,” Nico said. He stood up quickly, and as he did, the chair legs wobbled dangerously before crashing to the floor with a thunderous bang. The sound sliced through the low hum of the coffee shop, drawing every pair of eyes toward them.

For a split second, the entire shop froze; the clinking of mugs and murmurs of conversation stopped. A woman dropped her spoon with a clatter, her wide eyes mirroring the shock that gripped everyone else. Even the barista behind the counter halted mid-pour, coffee trickling aimlessly into the cup.

Nico didn’t seem to care about the looks. “Are you sure?” he asked. “The gods won’t be happy. You can’t go back if you tell them.”

“The gods can fucking suck it,” Percy snapped.

“What do you mean?” Thalia asked. “Of course you’re demigods.”

Percy felt a headache forming. He really hoped he wouldn’t live to regret this. It was honestly a terrible idea on all fronts, but he was running out of options.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady the rapid beating of his heart. Once he crossed this line, there was no coming back. “My father is Poseidon, God of the Sea,” he told them. “We’re cousins. Sort of.”

“You mean Neptune?”

“No,” Percy said, watching the cogs turn in their heads. “Poseidon. The Greek god.”

“But that would mean—” Thalia began, but then the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Percy had always known she was smart.

“Yes,” Percy said. “There are two camps: one for Rome and one for Greece. The gods have kept us apart because every time we’re together, terrible things happen. But we need each other now more than ever. Kronos is rising. I managed to keep him at bay when I electrocuted him with Zeus’s bolt, but it won’t hold him for long.”

“Wait, what?” Thalia asked. “You used Zeus’s bolt?”

There were probably more important things to worry about at the moment.

“Yeah,” Percy shrugged. “It was a long week. Fell into Tartarus, died, then blew Kronos to kingdom come. Can we get back to talking about the upcoming war and the two different camps of demigods?”

“I’m sorry?” Nico said, looking like Percy had lost his mind. “You died? What the fuck?”

Percy took a sip of his coffee. “I guess I forgot to mention that. He sort of killed me, and I sort of just came back. Can we get back to the upcoming war, please?”

“No, we can’t. What the fuck, Jackson?” Nico said. “People don’t just come back from the dead. That’s not how the world works.”

“Really?” Percy asked. “It’s happened so often I thought it was normal.” Percy took another sip of his coffee, now cold and bitter. He grimaced.

“The Fates?” Nico asked. “Why do you think the Fates brought you back?”

“Because they love making my life miserable,” Percy said. “And they’re not done with me yet. I haven’t done what they brought me here to do.”

“I’m sorry,” Thalia said, “but what exactly are you talking about?”

“Can we please get back on track?” Percy groaned, forcing himself to take another sip of his cold coffee. He needed caffeine to get through this meeting. “I really need to finish telling you everything.”

“There’s more?” Thalia asked. “What the hell is wrong with your life?”

Percy genuinely laughed this time. “I’ve been asking myself that since I was twelve years old. You should probably know we have a traitor at our camp. We know who it is, and we have a plan.”

“You have a traitor?” Thalia asked. “What kind of camp is this?”

Percy shrugged. “The fun kind?”

“It gets worse,” Nico said. “The traitor is his girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Percy snapped.

"You slept with her,” Nico observed.

“And I regret it,” Percy said. “Can we move on, please?”

“So,” Thalia said. “Let me get th is right. You think your girlfriend is a traitor. You have a plan, right?

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said. 

“Yeah, but does she know that?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Percy sighed and tried to steer the conversation back on track. It was stupid of him to think a bunch of ADHD kids could have a conversation that didn’t keep driving completely off the road. “They’re going to attack our camp in less than a week. We don’t have the numbers, and the demigods we have aren’t as disciplined as you Romans. Even if you can spare two people or 3 people it would help us. Of course, I would hope you two would join us. I’d also ask for Hazel Lavaesque, Frank, and Reyna. I understand if you don’t think you’ll be able to spare them.

“How do you know so much about New Rome?” Thalia asked him. “I’ve never seen you there, and Jason and I have been there since we were three.”

“I’ll explain it all if we live, okay,” he said. “I swear it. Until then, we have a plan to stop Annabeth.”

Thalia’s eyes went wide in surprise. “Annabeth? Annabeth Chase?”

“You’ve met?”

“Yeah,” she observed. “Years ago. She was little and on the run. I wanted to help her, but she ran off before I could. She was a smart kid–stole my lunch.”

“That hasn’t changed,” he said. “She’s still terrifyingly smart. But unfortunately, she has a grudge against the gods, and I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon. I fed her some information. There is going to be a routine scouting mission. But we’ll be ready. She won’t be able to go against us.”

“I’m coming with you,” Jason said. “If we are to trust you, I want to know firsthand that you won't stab be in the back during a battle.”

“Trust me,” Percy said. “I’d never betray you.”

Jason almost collapsed when he saw the lava climbing wall. 

“You all are crazy,” he said, shaking his head when he saw a girl nearly get hit by an exploding comet of lava. “How are any of you alive?” Percy fought the urge to say that most demigods at Camp Half-Blood didn’t make it past their teenage years.

“This place is crazy,” he said again when he saw a camper jump off a Pegasus in midair.

It might have been crazy, but it was home. 

Clusters of campers in bright orange shirts moved between the cabins and open fields, their laughter rising and falling like birdsong in the air. The shirts were vivid against the lush green surroundings, the color glowing in the sunlight, making it impossible not to spot someone from a distance. They were all ages, some wearing baseball caps backward, others with messy hair tangled from a morning of activity.

Over by the archery range, the unmistakable twang of bowstrings being pulled taut cut through the hum of chatter. A group of campers stood in a row, feet firmly planted in the soft dirt, eyes squinting down the length of arrows at round targets pinned to hay bales. The targets were riddled with past hits, their bright red and blue rings faded from sun and use. A counselor in a sun-bleached orange shirt paced behind them, offering pointers in a calm, steady voice.

Percy looked around the camp and smiled at Jason. “It’s crazy but, It’s home.”

He was glad Jason had come with him. There was something so right about seeing him at camp half blood. He didn’t want to think about the fact that more than half of the seven were at camp at the moment. It filled him with an odd sense of sadness that came in waves. 

“I–”

“Percy?” Annabeth asked, running towards him with a smile. Her smile dropped when she saw he wasn’t alone, her eyes narrowing at Jason. “Who is this?”

“New camper I found,” he said through gritted teeth. “Unclaimed.”

She put on a smile and held her hand out for him to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Annabeth, head of the Athena cabin.” 

Jason, much to his credit, pretended that nothing was wrong, and shook her hand. “I’m Jason.”

“Jason is going to go on patrol with us,” Percy said. “He’s never been in a battle, and it would be a safe place to get some experience if we are attacked.”

“Right,” she said. It was so subtle that anyone else would have missed it. But, her jaw tightened, and her brows furrowed slightly She wasn’t happy about that. 

I’ll see you late, Beth,” Percy said, dismissing her. “I’m going to go get ready for the scouting party and show Jason around.”

‘Wait,” she said. Percy was surprised when she grabbed his hand and pulled her towards him. All at once, she kissed him gently. Her lips were soft against his, and for a small moment he could almost pretend that she actually meant it.

‘Be careful, please,” she said. She smiled once more at Jason before heading off, running towards the lake. 

“Oh,” Jason said, the moment she was out of earshot. That’s got to be awkward.”

Percy could only sigh as Jason held in his laughter. “You have no idea.”

“Let me show you to the armory,” he said, “When you're done getting ready, you can meet me by my cabin, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jason said. “I think.”

“Thank you, Jason,” he said. “You really have no idea what you being here means.”

Jason shrugged his shoulder. “Has anyone told you your oddly sappy?”

“Nah,” he said. “Come one follow me.”

He led Jason to the armory and showed him all the Greek armor. The man hated the mismatched leathers but put them on anyway.  He left the man there to go to his own cabin.

The moment he opened the door the smell of the sea greeted him. 

Percy sat on the edge of his bunk, the smell of leather and sea salt mingling in the cool morning air. For a moment, he only stood there and breathed. Today was different; he could feel it in his bones. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways today could go wrong. 

He reached for the leather cuirass hanging beside him, its surface worn smooth from countless battles. He’d borrowed it from the camp armory, and he couldn’t help but wonder who had worn it before him. Hopefully, he had better luck than they had. 

The armor was light but durable, each strap and buckle designed for speed and agility rather than brute strength. As he picked it up, the leather was warm and supple in his hands, flexing easily with his grip. He shrugged it over his shoulders, the familiar weight settling against his chest. The armor hugged his body, the leather molding to his frame like a second skin. As he tightened the straps, he felt a sense of comfort in the ritual, each pull of the leather cinching him closer to the warrior he had become. The faint creak of the material reminded him of all the times he had done this before, each time a little less hesitant, a little more resolute.

Percy slipped on the vambraces next, the rough texture of the leather brushing against his forearms. They were scarred and battle-worn, each scratch a reminder of the dangers he had faced and survived. He ran his fingers over the marks, feeling the history etched into them, a silent testament to his journey.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, the leather armor dark against his pale skin, his eyes sharp and determined. He didn’t recognize himself anymore if he was honest. His cheeks were sunken in–almost gaunt like. There were circles under his eyes, and his hair was sticking up in every direction. He looked tired--battle born in fire and blood. This wasn’t the reflection of the young boy he used to be, but the man he had been forced to become. 

He understood now why everyone looked at him with an odd sense of fear. He looked exhausted–wild like and unhinged, like one of Lupa’s pups.

“Are you ready, Percy?” Jason asked.

Jason stood tall in the doorway, his blonde hair catching the early morning light, his eyes sharp and clear as the sky before a storm.

When Percy looked up, his eyes met Jason's with a fire that matched the storm brewing in his friend's gaze. He nodded, a slow, deliberate motion that spoke of readiness not just in body but in spirit.

"Yeah," he said, his voice calm but laced with a quiet intensity. "I'm ready."

Chapter Text

Percy's breath misted in front of him as he trudged up the hill, frost crunching underfoot. The cold bit deep—far more than it should for a late summer morning. He could feel the tension in the air, wrapping around his chest like a coiled serpent as he neared the peak. The sun hadn’t yet breached the horizon, leaving the world in a gray, pre-dawn haze.

He wasn’t alone, but the silence between them was deafening.

Three shadowy figures already stood at the top, silhouetted against the paling sky. As Percy joined them, the wind picked up, its icy fingers prying at his jacket, sneaking down his collar, and cutting to the bone. He resisted the urge to shiver—this was not the time to show weakness.

The demigods were exhausted. Their eyes drooped, stifled yawns escaping despite their best efforts. Nico clutched his coffee cup like it was a lifeline. Jason, ever composed, somehow had his blonde hair perfectly styled for such an early morning. Will looked like he was two seconds away from collapsing.

Three children of the Big Three on one mission—what could possibly go wrong?

Annabeth met them at the camp, her worn leather boots crunching through the morning grass. Her gray eyes were sharp and focused as always, but her pale face and the way she bit at her nails hinted at something deeper. Percy had never noticed that odd quirk of hers before. Maybe she was feeling guilty? He couldn't fathom what was going on in her mind.

Annabeth stepped closer, her fingers brushing against his. Her eyes softened, and Percy’s chest tightened. "You're going to be okay," she said quietly, her voice almost tender. "You always are."

He wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure him or herself.

"What’s wrong, Annabeth?" he asked. The others looked at her expectantly, doing their best to hide their suspicion.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head with a forced smile. "Everything’s fine."

She grabbed his hand as if to reassure him, but Percy felt none of it. "You’d tell me if something was wrong, right, Beth?" he asked, his voice softer. "You know I trust you with everything." Was he manipulating her? Probably. He still felt awful about it.

Nico shot him a judgmental look, but Percy ignored it. Annabeth seemed even paler at his words. "Yeah," she stammered. "I can tell you anything. Just… be safe."

"Of course we’ll be safe," Percy said, trying to sound reassuring. "It’s just a scouting mission, Beth."

"Right. Of course." She gave a small smile before quickly kissing him, then pulling away like she’d thought better of it. The others shuffled awkwardly, staring at their feet.

"Beth?" Percy asked, noticing something in her eyes—a deep sorrow he couldn’t place.

To his surprise, she grabbed him by the collar of his armor and pulled him into a desperate, hungry kiss. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

He didn’t want to enjoy the kiss, but he hated to admit that he did. He loved the feel of her lips, the way her fingers moved through his hair. Gods, he hated himself.

Then, just as suddenly, she pulled away. Her touch lingered for a moment as she rested her forehead against his, eyes closed. It felt... like a goodbye.

Percy’s hands settled on her waist. For a brief second, he let himself believe this was real—that she was still his Annabeth, the girl he’d loved for years. But as their lips parted, he saw a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

She’s hiding something.

But Percy wasn’t just the sea anymore, swirling with emotion and doubt. He was the storm, and if Annabeth wasn’t careful, she was going to get swept up in it.

"I need to go," he said, his voice colder than he intended.

Annabeth blinked, pulling back slightly. "Percy, I—"

"We need to move. We’re running out of time." There was a flash of something in her eyes—guilt? Fear?—but she masked it quickly. With a small nod, she turned to walk up the hill.

She paused for a moment. "Don’t do anything stupid, okay?"

"Me?" He smirked. "I’d never do anything stupid."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, though the ghost of her touch lingered on his skin. As she walked back up the hill, she cast one last glance at them. It was as if she was already planning their funeral.

Percy turned to face the others, who were watching him with raised eyebrows. He wanted to crawl into the ground.

"Oh, shut up," Percy muttered, noticing their smug expressions.

Jason raised his hands in surrender. "We didn’t say anything."

"No," Percy snapped. "But you were thinking it. Loudly."

"For a traitor," Jason observed, "she seems pretty comfortable with you."

"You saw how nervous she looked," Percy said. "She’s hiding something."

"Yeah," Nico chimed in. "Maybe she’s hiding something else. Like maybe you accidentally got her pregnant or something."

Percy shot a jet of water at Nico, drenching him from head to toe. Nico sputtered, glaring at Percy as if he had just murdered his puppy. "Don’t even joke about that, Nico."

Nico swallowed, instinctively moving his hand to the hilt of his sword. "And if things go wrong?"

"They won’t," Percy said firmly, his voice cutting through the cold morning air.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Nico said. “Everything seems to go wrong around you.”

Percy steeled himself. “I know.” He looked down toward the woods. “Let's go, get this stupid mission over with, okay?”

“Percy–” Nico began, but Percy cut him off.

“Yes, you did,” Percy said. He started walking, not looking back to see if the group was following him. He wasn’t sure what it was about Nico’s words that got under his skin, but he was right—nothing in his life ever went right. He was cursed, and the people closest to him were the ones who ended up hurt.

He could only pray that this mission went well.

He heard the crunching of footsteps behind him, and he knew they had started following him in silence. Jason looked like a fish out of water, his head bouncing between Nico and Percy in confusion. Jason wasn’t sure what had gone wrong either.

They walked for what felt like hours. The journey was boring, awful, and beyond awkward. Percy kept his mind focused on one thing—the mission. He couldn’t afford to fail. He had no idea what Annabeth was planning for them; they could run into absolutely anything in the woods.

Scouting was usually fairly straightforward. Patrol the camp and the woods beyond, keeping an eye out for any monster camps too close to the camp. He hadn’t done much of this since the Battle of Manhattan, but time hadn’t dulled his senses.

The forest was quiet, save for the crunch of leaves under their boots and the soft rustle of branches overhead. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, but the thick woods kept the light muted, giving everything an eerie, greenish hue. Jason walked ahead, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword, ever alert. Will walked beside him, absentmindedly twirling an arrow in his hand, ready to be shot at anything that might attack them.

“So, Jason,” Will asked. “How exactly did you survive on your own for so long? I mean, demigods usually don’t make it if they’re not brought to camp when they’re younger.”

Jason shot Percy a nervous look. “I just traveled a lot, I guess. Never stayed in one place long enough for the monsters to find me.”

“You're probably some son of a low-level god,” Will said. “No offense. But I don’t know why else they would ignore you.”

Percy snorted, and Jason looked amused. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“So, Will,” Jason continued, “you and Nico, huh?” A small smile graced Nico’s lips, but he remained silent.

Will blushed slightly. “Yeah.”

“How exactly did that happen?” Jason asked. “No offense, but you seem a lot happier than him.”