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Percy didn't know where he was going when he had stumbled out of cabin 3 on shaking legs, still struggling to bring air into his lungs in the aftermath of yet another nightmare. 

It really shouldn't have surprised him that he ended up in the ocean, even if he was still within the protective barrier of Camp Half Blood. The water had always brought him comfort and soothed his injuries, even those in his mind. 

So he sat, still in his old pajama pants and without a shirt, in the sand, submerged in salt water, letting the water settle in his lungs and soothe the phantom ache of Tarturus's air and Achlys' poisons. 

He hated this nightmare (memory -his traitorous mind insisted). It was bad enough that his actions against the goddess had made Annabeth fear him, had ended his relationship. She had told Piper, and Piper had told the others. It hadn't taken long for word to spread throughout both camps, and now he had to deal with wary gazes and hesitant distance between him and almost everyone else. That should have been punishment enough, but clearly not, because he had to relive it almost every night. 

Relive the rush of poisons against his skin, the burn of power in his veins, the way satisfaction curled around him, the vindictive glee of finally, finally pushing back against the gods who tormented him.

Relive the way the goddess had run, run like he was more fearsome than she. Relive the way that Annabeth had flinched from his gaze and reaching hands. Relive the way that she insisted he never use that ability again, insisted that some things weren't meant to be controlled. The way she looked at him like he was a monster. 

He didn't realize he had started to cry until a sob broke free, hitching his shoulders and shaking his steady breaths. 

The noise was quiet, barely audible, but it was enough to summon his father. 

Poseidon appeared beside him in a rush of bubbles, startling the half-blood to his feet. Poseidon held his trident ready, eyes sweeping the ocean floor around them for some kind of threat, before finally landing on Percy, sea green gazes locked. 

Percy watched as his dad's face softened and the trident disappeared. Then, his dad opened his arms.

And that was all Percy could take. 

As much as he had accomplished, he was still only 17, and he was so overwhelmed. 

He fell forward, wrapping his arms around his dad's chest and hiding his face in the ugly Hawaiian shirt he wore. Poseidon wasted no time wrapping his arms around the demigod, holding him close and running gentle, probing hands over his back, as if searching for injuries. The entire time, the god of the seas was murmuring quiet assurances of safety and acceptance, things that Percy had only ever heard from Sally, and not recently. 

It wasn't that Sally was a bad mother to him; he didn't think that would ever be the case, but she was...busy. She had her career as an author, Paul, and Estelle to keep her occupied. It didn't help that Percy was afraid of going home, scared of what would happen to Paul, who couldn't see through the mist, or Estelle, who was too young to defend herself, if a monster followed him home. He hadn't really seen her since he got back, and he hadn't told her what had happened in Tartarus. He hadn't told Poseidon either. He couldn't bear to see even his parents turn away from him, to look at him with fear, to hesitate to come near. 

So having his dad here now, offering the assurance that he craved...well, at least his tears were washed away with the gentle current. 

It took a few minutes for him to calm down, but eventually his sobs petered out, and he was left to tiredly slump against his dad, wrapped in his arms. 

Poseidon drifted until he was sitting cross-legged in the sand with Percy cradled in his lap like he was a much younger child. He let them sit in quiet for a few more minutes before he spoke, voice soft and gentle in a way Percy had never really heard before. "Perseus, my little pearl, what has happened?"

He didn't know how to explain how draining the last few months of scrutiny had been, how isolating it was to be so other, how not even his closest friends would look into his eyes anymore. It was a lot, but...well, the overly simplistic answer was still an answer. 

"I had a nightmare," he muttered. "It's stupid, I shouldn't have-"

"It's hardly stupid to be haunted by the past," his dad argued quietly but firmly. "I was in my father's stomach for a long time, and I have been to Tartarus as well, even if briefly. I, and all my siblings, are well aware that such things leave scars, even if not physical ones. Those scars do not make you weak," he asserted, squeezing Percy a little tighter. "They make you a survivor."

Percy wanted to accept that, he did, but...but that wasn't the real issue, and he wasn't a survivor. He was a monster. 

Still, giving voice to that idea, or worse, planting it in his dad's head, seemed to be an impossible feat, so he just shook his head. 

His father's hold on him tightened a little before loosening again, and he leaned back as though to examine Percy, though Percy couldn't bring himself to look up at him. "You think that I, your aunts, and your uncles are weak?" The question, though dangerous from most gods, was gentle and probing. It made Percy feel safe. 

Still, he had to correct the misunderstanding before the others caught wind of it, as gods so often did. 

"No," he assured, shaking his head. "You went through something horrible, but you got better. You're kings and queens, you aren't weak."

Poseidon hummed in thought. "And you, son, defeated Ares in single combat at age 12. You held the sky at age 14. You bested Hades at age 15. You defeated Kronos at 16. You survived Tartarus and defeated the Earth itself at 17. You have completed too many quests to name. You are the Hero of Olympus, twice over, and a prince of Atlantis. You have power to rival even minor deities." Percy hoped that his father didn't notice his flinch at those words. "You have accomplished much-maybe too much-in your short life. Are you saying that you have done all this, and are, somehow, still weak?"

And yeah, he knew it sounded ridiculous when listed like that. But it wasn't what he had accomplished that made him weak. It was what he failed to accomplish. 

He had failed to save other demigods during the Battle of Manhattan. He had failed to pull Annabeth up from the pit. He had failed to hold himself back. 

"It's-it's not that simple," he said instead of explaining. "It's not-I'm not some hero like that."

Poseidon chuckled a little, but it lacked the mirth he had heard in his father's laughs before. "Perseus, you are the hero. You are the strongest hero to ever walk the face of the earth, now or in any other age. You-"

"But I'm not," he insisted, the denial coming before he could even think of it. "Nico, Jason, Annabeth-they're heroes, all of them, but I'm not like them."

"You have accomplished more than all of them combined," Poseidon insisted. "You and Annabeth went through the same things in Tartarus, so if you are not a hero, I hardly see how she would be one." 

Percy knew he didn't mean it as an insult to Annabeth, but rather that he was trying to figure out Percy's train of thought. That didn't stop indignation from welling in his chest, his fatal flaw-his loyalty-screaming at the disrespect to his oldest comrade. 

"Annabeth is nothing like me," he insisted, ignoring the way the words burned on his tongue. "She isn't a monster."

Finally, his father fell silent. The silence wasn't calm or serene, like a calm sea on a warm summer day. No, it was the silence before an earthquake, the receding tide before a tsunami, the calm before a storm. 

If there was one thing Percy had learned in his 17 years, it was that such calm never really lasted. 

"Who has said such a thing to you?"

And the truth is that no one had said it, at least not in so many words, not to his face. Annabeth and Chiron had cautioned him against using his powers too much or in the wrong way, with the subtext that if he didn't, his powers would warp him in some way. The minor deities had kept a wary distance, looking at him like he was a threat. The other demigods kept more distance than that, looking at him like something foreign, something dangerous and frightening. 

Still, "no one has said it."

"Then what, pray tell, has gotten such a ridiculous idea into your head?" his father demanded. 

"It's-I just-it doesn't matter, I-"

Large, strong fingers grasped his chin, gently forcing his gaze up to meet his father's. Poseidon was always gentle with Percy, always kind. 

"Perseus," Poseidon started, gaze intent and worried. He looked at Percy like he was something precious, like he was something to be protected. There was no hesitation, no wariness, no fear. Even his mother had fear in her eyes sometimes recently, usually it was fear for him, but it was still there. When was the last time someone looked at him like this? "Please, my son. Talk to me."

And he did. Between hitched breaths and stuttered words, he curled up and told his father about the fall. About Tartarus, Bob, and the arae. He told him of Achylys, of poison and power that felt good. He told him of the way Annabeth reacted, the words that still echoed in his mind -"some things aren't meant to be controlled"-the way she started to flinch from his touch. He told him of the way the others treated him now, the way they looked at him, the fear.

Through it all, Poseidon stayed, his hold gentle and his hands rubbing soothing circles on Percy's back. Despite this, when the words dried up, Percy couldn't bring himself to look at his father. He didn't know what he would do if he saw hatred in Posideon's eyes the way he so often saw it in his own. 

Finally, Poseidon broke their tense silence. "Perseus," he murmured, softer than Percy had ever heard him before. "I am very sorry that you had to suffer that, and I was not there to help you. You went through a great ordeal, worse than any mortal should have to, but what you did in no way makes you a monster. It was wrong of Athena's child to say such things to you. You are powerful, and that can often scare mortals, but that does not make you bad in any way. It is a blessing to have the ability to defend yourself and those that you love. Do you understand me?"

And Percy...didn't understand. All he had seen for days-weeks-months was terror, all he had heard were cryptic warnings about his power. No one had said that his control over poison and blood was a blessing before. 

He wasn't sure who to believe. "But Chiron-"

"Chiron," Poseidon growled, "will be dealt with, and reminded of how to treat the children of the sea. His words are as incorrect as the Athena girl's."

"But-but poison isn't natural," Percy protested, some part of him fighting against the comfort, some part of him feeling like he didn't deserve it, while another part still craved it like he was a small child again. Maybe he was. After all, what was 17 years to the millennium his father had lived? "It's not your domain, so I shouldn't-I shouldn't have been able to control it, but it felt so right." He blinked back another round of tears at the longing he felt for the vicious liquids, the rush of power, and how much he wanted to have it back. He met his father's eyes, brows drawn in confusion. "What does that mean?"

"But...I didn't...I didn't call it," he murmured, eyes still fixed on the rough waves above.

"Yes," Poseidon agreed eagerly, squeezing Percy's shoulders. "Your powers are growing at an exponential rate. It's an early sign of ascension, one that was missed during the Second Giant War. The mistake will not be repeated now." 

"What?" Percy felt like he was lagging, his brain struggling to process all the information he was being given. He was ascending, apparently by his own power, and he didn't even notice it. But he didn't want to be a god, right? He had said no, he had asked for a different reward, for the demigods, not for himself, but-

"Your ascension has already started," his father says, unknowingly finishing Percy's thought. "There is nothing to stop it now, but we can monitor the process and make it easier for you."

Percy was quiet for a moment before he turned his gaze to Poseidon. Despite being literally submerged in water, his voice sounded a little rough, like his throat was dry, when he spoke. "How?"

"You'll need more ambrosia and nectar than the camps can provide,"  Poseidon explained, "so you'll need to stay with the gods. Of course, you are always welcome in Atlantis, and  Amphritrite has missed you dearly. With your ascension, the ancient laws won't apply to you anymore. Won't you let me take care of you, my son?" 

And yes, Percy remembered that Amphritrite had been very kind to him on his previous visits, even getting Triton to be nicer. But thoughts of her reminded him of-

"But-what about Mom?" Because Percy Jackson was, first and foremost, Sally Jackson's son, with loyalty baked into his bones. He couldn't just leave his mother to go live in Atlantis, even as the world seemed to grow more and more distant, his mind slowing down from exhaustion.

"It will not be forever," Poseidon assured, keeping up his soothing tone and gentle hold. "You'll be able to return to her once you ascend and can maintain a mortal-like form. In the meantime, we will take care of you."

"How long will that take?"

His father huffed fondly at the petulant tone. "Not long, maybe a few days, if that. You are, after all, closer to the divine than any other half-blood I have sired. It wouldn't surprise me if you took to godhood like a fish to water."

Percy knew his dad was trying to make him laugh with the obvious pun, but he just couldn't. He was exhausted, scared, and overwhelmed. And here his dad was, offering to take care of him, to make things better. 

Did he even deserve such care? After everything he'd done?

His dad certainly thought so, and he knew his mom did too. Maybe the others at camp didn't but...his parents did, and he could accept that. For now. 

Percy turned his face to bury it in his dad's shirt and croaked out a quiet "okay". 

His father's shoulders relax, and then, in a swirl of seafoam, he's pulled away from New Jersey and to Atlantis. 

Percy woke slowly for the first time in months. That was strange; he hadn't slept peacefully since the Pit. Before it, if he was being honest with himself. His nightmares usually left him waking up quickly and violently.

But today, he woke up slowly, lying in the softest bed he had ever slept on, covered in a soft, woven blanket, gentle currents ruffling his hair. 

Wait. Currents?

Percy pried his eyes open, looking up to see a sea-green canopy suspended over his head, held up by the frame of a large bed he was tucked into. 

It's strange, his bed in cabin 3 wasn't this extravagant, nor is the one at his mom's apartment. So where...

It was then that he remembered the night before. Another nightmare, fleeing his cabin, his dad finding him. That he was ascending and needed to stay with the gods. Poseidon offered to take him to Atlantis. 

There was sunlight streaming through the waves, but he remembered it being late at night when he had left his cabin, so...he must have slept through the night. Strange. 

Percy pushed the thought aside, propping himself up on sleep-heavy arms as he looked around the room. 

It was large, larger than his entire cabin, not even including whatever was through the two doors on either side, in addition to the double doors that he assumed were the entrance and exit to the room. All the furniture was extravagant, designed in silvers and dark blues, and it all looked very comfortable, which was...not what he had expected of the palace. 

Of course, he had stayed in a guest room in Atlantis before, but the guest rooms were smaller and less...ornate. This room looked a bit more like Triton's room, which he had seen twice. Despite the similarities, he knew it was a different room, because Triton's room was teal and had a huge rack of weapons on the wall, which this room did not have. Plus, it was missing all of the sea prince's many trinkets and decorations. 

Just as he was wondering whose room he had been put in, the door opened gently, and Amphrite swam in. Oh, was it hers, then? It seemed kinda plain for that, but who was he to judge?

"Ah, Percy," she greeted, swimming towards him with a soft smile. "It's so good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly well," he answers honestly. "But uh... whose room is this?"

She smiled fondly, reaching out to run her hand through his hair. "It's your room, silly," she informed him. "Your father had it created as soon as he realized what was happening." Her grin took on an eager, excited edge. "Oh, you've made us all very excited, little pearl! Triton is already commissioning your trident, and your sisters are all making arrangements to come and spend time with you while you adjust."

That was...nice, he supposed. He liked his godly sisters, and he and Triton were getting along a lot better these days, so he wasn't worried about the trident being sabotaged or anything. That didn't mean he liked having a fuss made over him, but, as the youngest and only mortal sibling, he had gotten used to it. 

Not that he would be mortal for long, though. 

"Now," Amphrite said, pulling back and clapping her hands together. "Breakfast will be served shortly, so you'd best get ready and meet in the dining hall." Without pausing for a response, she swam back out of the room, leaving Percy to get ready for the day. 

He staggered from the bed, swimming towards the large armoire. He opened it to reveal an odd collection of clothes that could only belong to him. There were the standard fancy and ruffled clothes of the Atlantean court, with some more casual, while still flowy, Atlantean outfits. This would be standard for any noble's wardrobe, but the land dweller's clothes, both fancy and casual, wouldn't be used by anyone in the palace but him and, possibly, his father. Considering the lack of brightly patterned Hawaiian shirts, Amphrite had been right, and this was all for him. 

He decided to be comfortable for the day, putting on a pair of dark-wash jeans and an old band shirt he remembered leaving in the guest room during his last visit. Percy didn't bother with shoes, knowing well that most of Atlantis had a tail, so shoes weren't a part of their normal wardrobe. He ran a hand through his hair, familiar with the way it waved underwater and knowing brushing it would be useless, before tapping his pocket to confirm that Riptide was still there. 

Satisfied with his outfit, he used the water to push open the door-it was too large and heavy to open any other way-and swam towards the dining room. While his guest room hadn't been in the royal quarters, he had spent enough time in Triton's rooms that he knew the way. 

As he made his way through the halls, the passing mer servants were more deferential than usual, stopping to bow to him, rather than just a respectful nod as they usually did. That was strange, but...well, Percy didn't want to think about the change in behavior right now. He wasn't sure if he had the emotional bandwidth for that at the moment. 

The guards outside of the dining room opened the door for him, bowing low as they did so, but Percy just gave them an awkward wave and went inside. 

At the table, his father, step-mother, and brother sat in their usual spots, patiently waiting to start eating. All of them smiled at him when he entered, and there was no melancholy in their gazes, as if they were mourning him while he was still alive. That change, at least, was nice. 

"Percy, it's good to see you," Triton spoke, keeping his voice carefully even in that way he always did. "You will sit by me today, yes?"

"Sure," he agreed easily, swimming to sit at the god's side. "What's got you all in such a good mood today?"

"You, little pearl," Poseidon said with a wide smile. "Your ascension has all of Atlantis-no, all of the sea-in a good mood! There's much to be done, and plenty to celebrate."

Right. His ascension. To godhood. 

Yeah, Percy was going to ignore that for as long as possible. 

He didn't bother responding, choosing to focus on his breakfast instead. His normal blue pancakes were already on his plate, syrup already on the side, but there was a large serving of scrambled eggs on his plate as well, which was odd. He had never been a fan of eggs, but he also wasn't one to be rude, so he decided to eat them first and get it out of the way. 

Of course, he was very surprised to find that they were not, in fact, scrambled eggs. No. Because that would be too easy. 

Instead of the slightly rubbery taste that all scrambled eggs inevitably have, he tasted his mom's blue chocolate chip cookies, right out of the oven. 

Ambrosia. Of course. 

Still, he couldn't deny how filling it was, or how much better it made him feel. His father was probably right, and ambrosia would be necessary for him going forward. At least it tasted good. 

He sighed, resigned, and dug in. He had expected, at some point, to feel familiar warmth build up in his core, a sign that he had too much ambrosia and it was time to stop-or else. Instead, when he finished the oddly lumpy serving, he just felt contentedly full. He didn't bother to think about it too long, knowing himself well enough to know that it would just make him freak out. Instead, he idly listened to the gods beside him as they talked about a grand banquet and other celebrations, humming and nodding along while he ate his pancakes. He knew well that he wouldn't be able to escape the celebrations completely, but if he played his cards right, he could still slip away to his rooms or to the training grounds with Triton after a few hours. 

Eventually, everyone finished their food, and the day got started in earnest. Dad had to go oversee the court, and Amphrite was off to work on organizing the celebrations. That left him and Triton with nothing to do until their sisters arrived in the afternoon. 

He turned to Triton, who was watching the door their parents had just left through, a contemplative look on his face. "Well," Percy began, rocking back a little on his heels and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Wanna spar?" 

Triton perked up, giving him a broad smile. "Of course, as long as you're willing to eat sand, little brother."

Percy laughed, knocking their shoulders together. "Oh, you are so on!"

---

Despite their teasing, both brothers were skilled warriors, and both respected that. Still, Triton was a god and, for now, Percy was a demigod, so it only made sense that the messenger of the seas beat his brother most times. Triton was never cruel about it, and he always made sure to point out where Percy went wrong and how to defend better, or teach him the moves that Percy was interested in, so their spars had grown longer and longer over the years. 

Lately, Percy had been holding his own much better, and their fights were more even than ever. It made sense, with what he now knew had been happening since Tartarus. 

It didn't mean Percy had won any of their spars by the time they had to stop to greet their sisters, but it gave him hope for beating his brother in the near future. 

Percy separated from his brother near their new rooms so both of them could change into clean clothes before they met up again to go greet their sisters. 

---

Their sisters arrived together, though they were coming from different places, so it was clear, at least to Percy, that they had met up beforehand. Rhode, Herophile, Benthesikyme, and Kymopoleia were as they ever were, and all of them excited, though they showed it in different ways.

"Sisters," Triton began, trying to seem regal but, in all honesty, just sounding done. "It's nice to-"

The girls ignored him, moving right for Percy. Kym got to him first, unsurprisingly, tackling him in a tight hug. 

"My little storm!" She squealed right in his ear, and he knew it would be ringing for a few more minutes.  "Oh, I just know you'll have something with storms, you just have to," she insisted. 

Triton hauled her off and threw her to the ground with a sigh. "Kym, you know we won't know his domains for a while, so leave him alone, will you?"

Kym immediately launched a current at him, screeching in indignation about the dirt now covering her, and just like that, the 2 were at each other's throats in a 'friendly' spar. At least this time, they remembered not to drag the rest of them into it. The last time that happened had been a mess. He wasn't sure if the palace gardens had fully recovered yet, even with Amphrite's dedicated efforts. 

Meanwhile, Benthy came over, hauling him to his feet before glomping him in a hug nearly as tight as Kym's had been. "Oh, we are going to cause so much more chaos now! Father isn't going to know what to do with it all."

"Don't we already cause more chaos than he can deal with?" He pulled back with a tight smile.

"Oh, of course," she agreed easily. "But once your domains settle, we'll have even more options! It'll be lovely!"

"It will," Hero agreed, stepping forward and clasping Percy's hand in her own, even as her eyes were ever so slightly glazed over. She must be caught in visions again. As one of the few remaining prophets of Poseidon, she was often caught somewhere between the past, present, and future, and Percy had long since grown used to it. "I'm glad that thread has been secured, after all these years."

Benthy just sighed and gently pried Hero's hand away, linking it with her own instead. "Alright, I'm going to take Hero to her rooms, but we'll talk more, yes?"

"Of course," he nodded, watching Benthy tug Hero inside before turning to Rhode, who was standing in front of him with a gentle smile. 

"Brother," she greeted, holding her arms out in a silent offer. He was glad to accept, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her in turn. She always gave the best hugs, firm and gentle, warm and caring, and this time was no exception. She held him for a few moments, quiet and content, dutifully ignoring the shouts of Kym and Tri as they battled it out nearby. 

"I know you did not want this," she says, finally breaking the silence. He tightens his arms around her in response, a little shocked that any member of his divine family would acknowledge that. "I know it is not what you would choose, and for that I am sorry." She squeezes him just a bit tighter before pulling back to look him in the eyes with a soft smile. "But I am not sorry that you will be with us for eternity. I am glad to have you here, Percy."

He offered her a wobbly smile. "Thanks, Rhode, you're the best, you know that?"

"Oh, is that so?" Her smile shifted a little, turning into a smug smirk. "So I am your favorite sister then?"

He laughed, glad for the break in the serious atmosphere. "For now, maybe," he allowed. "We'll have to see how it goes by dinner." 

She laughed along with him, linked their arms, and pulled him back inside, talking about her island and the new coral colony she had started the whole time. 

Secure under the sea, with his father and stepmother overseeing the official matters and his siblings to keep him company, Percy allowed himself to be distracted from the crushing weight of impending immortality and everything that went with it. 

After all, if eternity looked like this, it couldn't be that bad, right?

---

Nico was confused. 

He had gone to New Rome for a few days to visit Hazel and, when he came back, Percy was just...gone. 

The son of Poseidon wasn't in his cabin, the woods, the pavilion, or the lake. With every spot that Percy wasn't, Nico became more and more sure that Hera had taken him again, had dragged him into some new scheme of hers, just like she had done the winter before. 

He was about to skip the Big House and storm right to Olympus to demand answers when a neriad, one that Percy spoke to often, flagged him down from the beach. 

He had shadow-traveled down, startling her in the process, and demanded if she knew where Percy had gone. It wasn't his best moment, but he and his cousin had only just started to get along, after everything in the last 2 wars, and if he had to start over again, he would overthrow the gods himself. 

The sea nymph had been understanding, and she had gently told him that Percy had fled his cabin late the night before, acting as if he were being chased by a giant, before tumbling into the sea. She told him that Lord Poseidon had come when he heard Percy's cries and, after talking for a bit, spirited him away, likely to Atlantis. 

Percy had suffered nightmares before. He was a veteran of 2 wars, and, just like all the rest of the demigods, such things left their scars. But Percy usually went to Annabeth or another one of the seven. At least, that's what his cousin had told him. Annabeth, Piper, and Jason were all at camp, had all been at camp last night, so why did Percy go to his dad instead of them?

So, Nico decided to ask them and find out. 

She hadn't answered when he'd tried to press about her calling Percy a thing, or what she meant, so he went to Jason next. 

Jason had shifted a bit, running a hand through his hair. "Well, it's not like my father would be happy to have Percy in his cabin, so that's probably it."

Nico narrowed his eyes. "That's never stopped him before," he pointed out, "not even when Thalia was the only one staying there. So what's really going on?"

"It's nothing, Nico," the older boy insisted. "I'm sure he just...wanted to go see his dad, yeah? Anyway, I have to go. Cabin 11 wanted help with the lava wall. Bye!" And with that, the son of Jupiter turned tail and nearly ran towards the climbing wall. 

Which left Piper. He had never really liked the daughter of Aphrodite, but then again, the feeling had been mutual. At least, with her blunt nature, he might actually get an answer this time. 

He found her at the edge of the forest, clothes mussed and covered in faint golden dust. She had likely been hunting the monsters stocked in the forest, not that he really cared. 

"Piper," he greeted as he approached. "Why didn't Percy come talk to you the other night? When he disappeared?"

She looked up, glaring fiercely at him as if he were a monster to be slain. The look didn't surprise him, he was used to it after all these years. "Why would a monster like him come to me? I don't want anything to do with your lot." 

That stopped Nico in his tracks. "What?"

Nico was furious. 

Percy was his cousin, yes, but if he was being honest, he saw the older boy as more of a brother. There was a certain kinship between them that they didn't share with other demigods, even other children of the big 3. Nico and Percy both held powers beyond their peers, both of them a little closer to the divine than mortality, for all that Percy tried to ignore it. 

Still, Percy had accepted a prophecy to protect Nico. He and Hazel had been insistent that the 7 travel to free Nico from the giants, even as Jason, Piper, and Annabeth tried to leave him to his own devices. He had trusted Nico to lead the 7 to the Doors of Death and get the Athena Parthenos back to camp in time. 

Percy was his person, and these demigods, those who should have protected and revered him for all he had done, convinced him that he was a monster and drove him away.

They were lucky that Nico knew Percy valued the camp and these people, despite what they had done. Otherwise, he would have summoned an army of the dead in retaliation. 

Instead, he screamed his head off at Annabeth, Jason, Piper, and Chiron-honestly, the trainer of heroes should recognize ascension, but no-and started gathering sweets and blue food. 

He had some offerings to make. 

---

Percy was...bored. 

That wasn't unusual on land; his ADHD made it hard to focus at the best of times, but under the sea? There was so much going on, so many people and creatures to meet, that Percy was almost never bored. 

Almost being the keyword. 

The exception? Parties at the Atlantean court. 

Court parties were dull affairs, where nobles floated around in their pretentious outfits, saying pretentious things to their pretentious friends. Usually, this was fine because Percy was just a demigod, and none of the immortals had much time for such fleeting beings. 

Now that they all knew he was ascending? Well, as Amphrite put it, who wouldn't want to get in with the second prince of Atlantis?

Still, at least one of his siblings stayed at his side at all times, fielding all the catty comments and veiled proposals with the level of preteniousness they deserved, which he was incapable of delivering. 

It didn't sit well with him to let others fight his battles, but he was well aware that he didn't know the polite way to tell them to go to the crows, so he had to let them handle it. Plus, a small part of him-one that he would deny until the day he died- kind of liked that they cared enough to protect him. 

That didn't cure the boredom, though. 

It was Herophile's shift to sit with him, and, as she was still stuck partially between the past-present-future, they had drifted off to the side of the room. No one ever wanted to talk to her when she was like this, afraid of what future she would foretell for them, so, at the very least, they were left alone. Still, she rarely responded to him like this, so he had learned to just appreciate her presence and plot with her on days that she was a bit more aware. 

Which left him off to the side of the room, with nothing to do but swish his drink and contemplate what chaos Amphrite would let him get away with. 

He was just trying to decide if he could drop Hero off with one of their siblings and slip away before Amphrite noticed when his father started to make his way towards them, cutting through the crowd like celestial bronze through a hellhound. 

He wasn't alone, though. 

Next to him was none other than Nico Di Angelo in all of his gothic glory. He was fiddling with a seashell bracelet, similar to one  Poseidon had given Sally, one he had told Percy allowed land dwellers to breathe underwater. Poseidon had told Percy that they were rare when he asked about one for Annabeth, that they were given to only a select few. 

It didn't really surprise Percy that Nico had one, after all, his father had liked him more than any other in the 7. And now, leading the demigod through the Atlantean court, he seemed extremely pleased with himself. 

That was...strange.

But not something Percy wanted to focus on at the moment. Instead, he jumped to his feet and darted toward his cousin. 

"Nico," he called, excitement clear in his voice. "What're you doing-"

He was cut off by a crushing hug, one that forced the water from his lungs and left him breathless. "You idiot," Nico growls against his chest, just before he pulls back, hands on Percy's shoulders, eyes dark with anger. "Why would you believe them? They're all-"

"Maybe," his father interrupts, tone full of false cheer, "this is a conversation best had elsewhere. Your rooms, perhaps, Percy?"

And, well, Percy does want to know what Nico's talking about, but the eyes of the Atlantean court have latched onto them, and they're hungry for a story. 

"Yeah," he agrees easily. "Can you-"

"I will watch over Herophile," Poseidon promised, drifting forward to guide her away from the wall. He smiles at Percy as he moves back towards his throne, Herophile in tow, murmuring quietly to him of what is to come.  It didn't seem like anything bad, since his father seemed pleased, so Percy decided not to worry about it. 

He led Nico through the winding halls of the palace until they reached the royal family quarters and his bedroom, which, over the last few days, had grown a bit messier than when he arrived. It still had nothing on Cabin 3, so he wasn't too worried about showing Nico inside. 

Regardless, the son of Hades barely glanced at the room before turning a glare back on Percy. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Uh," Percy rocked back on his heels. "Tell you what?"

Nico's glare darkened, and he crossed his arms. "Tell me that the camp was treating you like you're some kind of terror. I mean, really, they think you would hurt them? You?" 

And oh, that made sense. Nico was always treated differently, despite Percy's best efforts, so of course, he would be upset at the way Percy was being treated, likely linking it to his own treatment. Still, Percy knew it was different, so he would just have to explain. 

"Nico, it's okay," he started, shoving his hands in his pockets to fiddle with riptide. "Annabeth told them what happened in the pit and-"

"And they acted like there aren't other terrifying abilities at camp!" Nico threw his hands up. "I mean, Cabin 10 can order anyone to do anything, Cabin 12 can drive people mad, and Cabin 7? The sweetest people at camp? They could start a plague at any time!" The teen started pacing as he ranted. "All of that, all of those abilities, and they draw the line at blood control? Do they even know how useful that is? You could stop a monster or enemy in their tracks! Stop someone from bleeding out! Clean up the infirmary! You could-"

Percy reaches forward, grabbing Nico by the shoulders to stop his pacing. "Hey, Neeks, it's okay-" 

"No, it's not," the younger boy argued, glaring up at Percy with narrowed, dark eyes. "Just because they can't handle a godling in their presence, they don't have the right to say things like that, especially not about you!"

That startled Percy a little. "I'm not-"

"Percy," Nico interrupted with a put-upon sigh. "At this point, you have to know we're ascending. We're more powerful than anyone at camp, even the other children of the Big 3. We keep doing impossible tasks, and sure, our powers might be greater than they can comprehend, but-"

"Hold up," Percy cut him off. "What do you mean, we?"

Nico actually hesitated, looking more confused than Percy had seen him in years. "Did you really not know you're ascending?"

"No-I mean, I didn't, but dad told me," Percy stammered. "But-but that's me, so what did you mean by we, Nico?"

The younger demigod blinked at him a few times before tilting his head to the side. "Wait, so you really didn't know?"

"Wh-how would I know?"

Nico sighed, pulling Percy's hands from his shoulders and shoving the older boy back onto his bed before sitting at his side. "Percy, what other demigod can summon a miniature hurricane? Or defeat titans? Or control things outside of their parents' domain?" 

And...yeah, now that Nico said it like that, it made more sense. Still, that didn't answer his real question. "Nico, we?"

He huffed and crossed his arms. "You aren't the only demigod with too much power, you know."

And yeah, Percy did know. Nico had been ridiculously strong since he learned he was a demigod, especially in recent years, but Percy just...hadn't thought about it. Just like he hadn't thought about his own abilities. But that meant...

"Nico, are you ascending too?"

The younger huffed, but nodded. "It's still a way off, but yeah." 

For a moment, they sit in silence, neither sure what to say. Eventually, Percy turns to his cousin. "What now?"

---

It turned out that Nico was staying in Atlantis a bit at Poseidon's invitation. The two of them thought it would be good for Percy to have a peer through this 'difficult transition' and...well, Percy wasn't going to turn Nico away, even if he refused to dignify their claim with a response. 

Of course, Hades had agreed on the condition that, when Nico needed to go to the underworld for his ascension in a little over a year, Percy would accompany him as well, which was easily agreed upon. Something about the two realms needed better connections, but Percy wasn't really paying that much attention, truth be told. Politics wasn't really his thing, and he wasn't his father's heir anyway.

Over the next few days, Nico integrated himself with the 'seafam', as Kym had started calling it, and he was given a guest room right next to Percy's. They sparred with Triton, went storm crafting with Kym, explored the depths with Benthy, visited sea creatures with Rhode, and struggled their way through word puzzles with Hero. 

Almost a week passed like that, and Percy was growing content. In hindsight, that should have been his first warning sign. 

The day started like normal. Almost. He woke up feeling warm, almost like a fever, but not quite. And his skin felt oddly...tight. Almost like he was too big for it. He thought about resting for the day, but decided against it, since he didn't feel awful. He had breakfast with Nico and his family, ate the ever-growing portion of ambrosia he was served, and wandered off with Nico and Triton to train for the morning. 

Triton worked the 2 gods-in-the-making through their normal warm-ups, where Percy ignored his gradual light-headedness, and then set them into a fierce spar, while Triton acted as referee. Percy would admit that he wasn't at his best, his movements were a little off, and his guard was lower than it should have been. Still, it was probably nothing, so, like all the other times he had gotten sick over the years, he ignored it and fought through it. 

He realized this wasn't his best idea only a few minutes later, when a sudden rush of heat through his veins had him gasping and dropping his weapon, a rookie mistake he hadn't made in years. It didn't help that the heat seemed to sap his strength, and he fell to his knees in the same moment.

Instantly, Nico and Triton stopped the match and rushed to him. 

"Percy, what's wrong?" Nico demanded, dropping to his knees beside him and hovering his hands over Percy's body. "What happened? I didn't hit you, did I? I thought you blocked?"

"He did," Triton assured, reaching out to press a hand to Percy's forehead. His skin felt oddly cool, which was strange, since Triton usually ran warm. Percy wondered what that meant. He wasn't sure; his head suddenly hurt, just like the rest of him, and he couldn't focus. "It's alright," the god soothed, running a hand through Percy's hair before scooping him up. Percy did his best to stay still, tried to make it easier for his brother. "Father warned us of what to watch for; it is just the ascension starting in earnest."

"What? Already, I thought-"

"He is rather strong for a demigod; he was born with too much ichor," Triton explained. "It has hastened the process. Now, if you wish to stay intact, I recommend you avoid his rooms for the next days. You are not yet far enough along to bear witness to our true forms."

"I-okay, yeah, I'll just...go see Kym?" Nico sounded oddly hesitant, and Percy wanted to reassure him, but all that came out was a faint groan. 

"After you tell our father, sure."

Triton was quiet after that, just moving with purpose through the halls, though, with his eyes -and teeth- clenched shut against the pain, Percy couldn't tell where they were going. At least, not until Triton settled him on his own bed, slowly releasing him into the sheets. 

"There we go, little brother," he murmured, running his hand through Percy's hair again. It was oddly soothing, and, with how much cooler Triton felt, Percy couldn't stop himself from pushing his head into the feeling. "All will be well," he assured. 

The heat searing through his body was steadily rising, and it burned through his veins. Percy had suffered through a lot, but nothing quite like this, and he couldn't resist writhing on the bed, as though that would rid him of some of the pain. It didn't, but some part of him felt a little better moving, like he was doing something about the pain, even if he really wasn't. 

Percy wasn't sure how much time passed, if any did at all, between his brother's hands on his wrists and his father taking his place, but Poseidon stared down at him with a soft, reassuring smile. "It's okay, son," the god assured, and he did something to cool the currents against Percy's skin, bringing some minor relief. "This will be over soon, and then you will never suffer again."

Percy wasn't so sure about that. The pain was all-encompassing and never-ending, so how could it be over? He didn't really have the available brain power to compute that, and his father seemed to realize that. He removed his hand from Percy's wrist, laying it across his forehead, and pushed power into him with a simple command.

"Sleep."

And Percy slept.