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Chapter Text

Percy Jackson’s POV

It’s been hours since my raft left the shores of Ogygia, the lingering smell of cinnamon and juniper clinging to the wood desperately as the overwhelming scent of sea salt takes over my senses.

I can still remember her face, despite the fact that her island disappeared within minutes of my raft drifting away from that eerily perfect paradise.

The keeper of that island, Calypso, was, well, strange during my time there. She was beautiful, well, as beautiful as any teenage girl could get anyway.

But when she touched me, it was like some sort of danger sense inside of me was going off, like I could just tell from her ragged, ice cold hands just how old she really was despite her face saying otherwise. And those eyes, how could anyone forget them, really?

They were strange, one minute I could catch her staring me down like a shark eyeing down some poor lone fish lost from their shoal and the next minute she’s staring at me with the eyes of a baby seal, telling me I could have an immortal life at her side.

I felt bad, really I did, but something about her told me that if she had any choice in the matter then I wouldn’t be leaving at all, regardless of my answer.

I may not seem like it, but I’m a little too aware that I’m fourteen, a fourteen year old that’s still fighting an active war mind you. So to have some weird island goddess just sit me down in her cave for who knows how long before I woke up and tell me that I could have a place with her just felt off.

I could only imagine what could have happened between me and her if Hephaestus had never come back to the island.

The whole encounter reminded me of Odysseus, a tale I can roughly recall my mom telling me because she thought it would be a good idea to help me get to know my dad more, though she had to be discreet about it for obvious reasons.

How that man was trapped for seven whole years with her until the gods themselves convinced her to let him go. That probably added to the uneasy feeling in my gut, especially when she said that the gods would always send men her way before they eventually left her.

Did she do what she did to Odysseus to those guys, is that why they never choose to stay? Could I have been another victim?

Apparently, I was so caught up in my ‘what-ifs?’ that I failed to see that my raft had hit the shore of the camp, the raft slowing to a gentle stop as the waves crashed over my feet for a final time.

Unlike what I expected, the camp was strangely quiet. Even at night it was a rare sight to see the camp so silent, with most people still rock climbing or chatting with their friends.

From the distance I could see the glow of a huge fire, smoke rising from the amphitheater as I could vaguely make out Chiron’s voice from my place at the shore. As I stalked closer to the voices, I could hear Chiron’s speech, his voice far from his usual upbeat tone.

I hid behind some of the campers farthest from Chiron as he spoke. “We must assume he’s dead,” Chiron proclaimed somberly.

I was confused, who could have died while I was away? Did we lose more campers, did Kronos attack before I could get back to the camp? Was I too late? Just how long was I gone?

Was it Nico? Beckendorf? Tyson? Hell, could it have been Mr. D? He hadn’t been seen much before Annabeth got the quest, it could have been him for all I knew, honestly.

“After so long, it is unlikely our prayers will be answered. I have asked his friend Annabeth to do the final honors,” Chiron said before moving to the side, allowing Annabeth to step into full view of the campers.

She looked like she had been crying for a while, her eyes rimmed with red as she held a shroud, a silk green blanket with a trident etched into it with a name inscribed onto the–wait, is that my name on it?

“He was probably the bravest friend I’ve ever had,” Annabeth said, nearly choking on her words as she placed the shroud into the fire.

“He…,” she started before pausing as she lifted her head back from the shroud, her eyes landing directly on me. I’ve never seen anyone’s face go as red as hers before she pointed at me, shouting, “He’s right there!”

The entire camp turned to me, some quickly moving out of the way as Annabeth pushed through the crowd to tackle me into an embrace, the impact so fierce it could have crushed my ribs in.

“Hey, welcome back to the land of the living!,” the Stolls exclaimed, clapping me on the back as they laughed while the rest of the camp fell silent to the commotion.

Beckendorf, who I could finally see through the crowd and thanked the gods wasn’t dead, made his way towards Annabeth and I.

He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder as he steadied us both, Annabeth’s weight threatening to topple the both of us without his assistance. Silena had also quietly made her way through the crowd, with her putting an equally comforting hand on Annabeth’s shoulder as Annabeth finally pulled away from me.

Chiron had strutted towards the four of us, relief obvious as I saw it wash over his face. “Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever been happier to see a camper return. But you must tell me–”

“Where in tartarus have you been, Percy?!,” Annabeth had loudly inquired, interrupting Chiron as she gripped onto both of my upper arms tightly, “It’s been two weeks!”

If I could see myself now, I’d probably have looked extremely sheepish as I nervously chuckled, glancing over the crowd to avoid looking directly into Annabeth’s glare.

I eventually ended up catching Clarisse’s glare from behind a few other campers, but even now it didn’t look like one of her usual glares. As she crossed her arms across her chest, she held this unreadable expression, with what appears to be a slight hint of concern mixed somewhere in there.

But this is Clarisse we’re talking about, even though we’ve gotten closer to each other after the quest for the golden fleece she still somehow found the time to make it known to me and the camp that she could, and would, kick my ass free of charge.

I chose to mentally shrug her off as I was forced to stare down an increasingly pissed off Annabeth.

I rubbed the back of my head awkwardly as I gave her a bashful, lopsided smile, “I, uh, sort of got flunked across the ocean after the volcano erupted and ended up on Ogygia.”

If the camp wasn’t silent before, it definitely was now. People exchanged glances at one another, some even worriedly whispering to one another as others looked at me sympathetically.

Annabeth’s face quickly fell at the mention of the island as Beckendorf and Silena looked towards each other clearly unsettled by what I said.

Clarisse was now shoving her way through the crowd to get towards our little group with a glare that screamed ‘stop me and you’re dead’, but something told me it wasn’t specifically aimed towards me.

Chiron, while I was able to catch a glimpse of the unease that quickly took over his features, had schooled his face just as fast as he cleared his throat, “Ahem.”

Chiron placed a hand onto one of my free shoulders, “Perhaps, You, Annabeth, and I should discuss this matter more privately, hm? Everyone else, resume their regular activities!”

Despite the announcement, people continued to shoot me with sorry looks as I was led away from everyone, including Silena, Beckendorf, and Clarisse.

Before I entered the big house, I turned around to see the three grouping together, discussing something that I didn’t get the chance to hear before I was ushered into the building.

I guess everyone got the same idea I had when I was on that island, maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.

When Chiron finally turned to face Annabeth and I his face was solemn, staring at me like I just came back from an active battlefield without my arms.

Annabeth was now holding my hand in hers, squeezing it slightly in an attempt to bring me some sort of comfort I think. I could already tell this was going to be one of the most uncomfortable talks I’ve had in my entire life, probably second to the talk I received from my mom.

“Percy,” Chiron began, his tone grave as his eyes filled with sympathy, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” I nodded slowly, regretting everything that could have led me to this conversation.

“What exactly happened on that island, Percy? You will not face judgment here I assure you,” Chiron stated in a matter-of-fact way, looking down at me as he waited for my mouth to finally work up an answer that could ease both him and Annabeth in some way.

I squeezed Annabeth’s hand before letting it go, stepping a bit closer to Chiron. “Nothing happened, okay?,” I said, a little too defensive apparently as I winced at the look Chiron and Annabeth gave me.

“Look, I exploded St. Helens and got blasted off into the sea. I woke up at Calypso’s island and she took care of me,” I stated, but I’m quickly learning that I need to find a better way to ease their concerns because that last sentence did not sound right at all. I shook off their widening eyes as I began to continue my account of what happened.

“Really, she did. Hephaestus came by to check on me and told me I could come back to camp if I wasn’t injured anymore. If it wasn’t for the raft Calypso gave me, I wouldn't be back here,” I said in her defense, even as I could feel her curseful, piercing gaze stabbing at my back.

I could still remember her face, how its flawless features dropped and morphed into something more subtly terrifying when I told her my decision to go back to camp.

Her offers of immortality still pounded at my head as I looked at Chiron for any sign that he believed me.

His face hadn’t changed at all, not once did he stop looking at me in horror either before or after hearing my story. I could see him still taking my story in as Annabeth wrapped an arm around my shoulders, bringing me close.

She wouldn’t look at me, her mouth moving but nothing was coming out, like she was trying to find the right words to approach me.

“Two weeks,” she finally said, but it came out as a wobbly whisper as if she were about to cry again, “She had you for two weeks.” I nearly broke at the sight of her, the air growing more and more tense as the minutes passed.

“I’m sorry, wise girl,” I said earnestly, copying her as I wrapped one of my arms over her shoulders and giving her a comforting squeeze, “If I had a choice, I would have come back sooner.”

I needed to change the subject quickly because despite everything, there was still an unfinished quest hanging above all of us.

“Listen,” I began, causing the two to emerge from their thoughts as they turned to look at me, “We still have a quest to finish, right?”

Annabeth scrunched up her face at the thought of it, like it was something she didn’t want to touch on. Honestly, fair enough, I wasn’t exactly keen to go back into the labyrinth after everything that’s happened but I knew what we needed to do.

“I know how to get us through the labyrinth,” I said as I watched Chiron slowly begin to change his expression into something more of worried intrigue. Good enough, anything to get that look of horror off his face. I would hate to see what he thought actually happened on that island.

“Remember Ariadne? I just realized something and, this could be a stretch, what if it was her who was the key to solving the labyrinth, not the string?,” I questioned, placing the pieces of my idea down for them to pick up.

“I think we need a clear-sighted mortal, someone who can see the path that us demigods can’t.” I could see the gears turning in their heads, Annabeth’s eyes widening at the thought as she pulled me into a hug.

“Seaweed brain, that’s brilliant!,” she exclaimed before letting me go, “But where are we going to find a clear-sighted mortal? There’s my dad but I doubt he’d be willing to help us. What about your mom?”

I shivered at the thought of bringing my mom onto the quest, especially since we would definitely be encountering monsters.

I love her, she could probably bring my dad down to his knees if she wanted to, but after the minotaur I wasn’t planning on taking any more chances with her life.

“Absolutely not,” I said, shutting down that thought in an instant, “But I know someone else who could get us through. Remember that red-haired girl at my school before it blew up?” Annabeth nodded with scrutinizing eyes as Chiron looked at the both of us shocked and bewildered.

“She can see through the mist, and if we can get to my cabin I could call her up and tell her everything. She’d be willing to take on the quest with us, believe me,” I added as reassurance that contacting Rachel wasn’t going to be a total waste of our time, though it was obvious that Annabeth wasn’t exactly on board with the plan. But seeing as we didn’t really have many options, she nodded with a heavy sigh.

“Fine,” Annabeth said exasperated, “Chiron, Percy and I are leaving to finish this quest. Can we leave now?” Chiron nodded, though when his eyes reached mine his gaze softened for a moment.

“You may, but I want Percy to stay back. Don’t worry, it’ll only be for a moment,” Chiron said as he motioned for Annabeth to leave without me. We shared a worried glance before Annabeth shoulder bumped me, “I’ll be right outside, okay?,” she said before she left, leaving me alone with Chiron.

The mood fell significantly from whatever place I was able to get it to before Annabeth left.

Chiron put both of his hands on my shoulders as he squeezed, not enough to hurt but enough to let me know that I should be taking his next words very seriously.

“Percy,” he started, his gaze hardening into something more akin to protectiveness, “You do not have to hide your experience on Ogygia. If something has happened to you, you must let me know. I’ve known of far too many men that’ve landed on that island, it could be considered a punishment to be stranded there.”

He allowed me a moment to soak up his words, his grip on me softening as he sighed. “This subject will not be forgotten so easily, there are further talks to be had about this,” he stated, taking his hands off my shoulders completely as he stepped back.

“You may leave now, Percy,” he said while looking me up and down, visibly apprehensive at the thought of letting me go.

I took my chance and left quickly, trying not to think too hard on the topic. I really wanted to forget that island, and Calypso, as quickly as possible.

As I opened the door, I was met face to face with Annabeth as she gave me a small smile, grabbing my hand and leading me back to my cabin.

Chapter Text

Clarisse's POV

Even after the camp watched prissy and owl-eyes enter the big house with Chiron, you could still hear the gossip.

Anyone with any sense knew that the island of Ogygia was a sore topic for most, especially if you’ve heard of the old man Odysseus’s tale.

Personally, I don’t really care for the old stories, but I’ve paid enough attention to brainiac’s constant attempts to ‘educate’ me to know what happened to the poor dude.

The man was left stranded on a goddess’s, Calypso’s to be exact, island for seven years. She refused to let him go, forcing herself on him for years until Hermes was finally sent down to convince her to let him go.

Now, if you apply the fact that the goddess is an unapologetic predator to kelp head’s story and you get a pretty fucked up conclusion to what happened to the kid.

We may try to beat each other up every once in a while but that doesn’t mean I have to be blind to a pretty obvious attack on a fourteen year old. You don’t have to like someone to defend them, or whatever prissy says.

I could see the minute the kid said ‘Ogygia’ that Silena and Beckendorf came to the exact same conclusion that I did, so I pushed my way through the crowd to get to them.

As soon as I got close enough I pulled Silena close to me with an arm wrapping around her shoulders as I bumped shoulders with Beckendorf, both their expressions grim as we acknowledged each other.

“So, we’re all got the same idea, right?,” I asked rhetorically, as our glances turned to the big house that kept fish boy away from us.

Beckendorf hummed in agreement as Silena nodded slightly, though none of us could keep our eyes away from the doors separating the three of them from the rest of the camp.

“Do you think she would have done it?,” Beckendorf asked, his face twisting distastefully at the thought of the two together alone for so long, “Percy’s a kid, she couldn’t have, right?”

Silena was physically recoiling at Beckendorf’s question as if she had been hit with a blunt object, her eyes filling with overwhelming guilt. Guilt for what, I wasn’t sure, it’s not like she had anything to do with what happened to prissy.

“No, no she couldn’t have,” Silena reinforced, but it seemed more like she was trying to convince herself rather than us.

She turned to put herself fully into my arms with Beckendorf hugging her from behind as I stiffly hugged her back, one of my hands instinctively running through her hair.

“The kid’s fine,” I reassured wearily, clearly not convincing Silena and Beckendorf, “Look, he’s not injured that’s for sure, if he wanted to say something he would. Chiron’s got it under control.”

With the way they were both looking at me, I could tell they knew I wasn’t completely convinced Chiron really had it under control either.

The whole situation was completely fucked, and to top it off the quest bird brain’s got still isn’t complete. That means they’ll probably have to leave immediately after their talk to finish that damned quest.

After a while I had let go of Silena, firmly patting her on the back while clapping Beckendorf’s shoulder. I was too uncomfortable with the emotions stirring in me at the moment so I turned to leave the two love birds alone.

“You two,” I shouted out after I had reached a decent distance between us, “Don’t think too hard about it, okay? Whatever happened to the kid, he won’t be going through it alone.”

The words that left my mouth left them a bit more confident as I turned to try and find Mr. D, getting more and more angry at the thought of what happened on that cursed island.

Mr. D, while I wasn’t completely fond of him, did help Chris with his insanity problem, something I felt guilty for not being able to completely nurse him through.

I was tempted to stomp right back to cabin seven and demand an audience with their dad, the protector of the young.

Hell, I even almost let my feet carry me straight to dad’s cabin and pray for the biggest weapon he could muster so I could storm that creep’s island guns blazing. But I knew deep down that Mr. D was the one to go to.

He held this protectiveness for the kids in this camp that most didn’t know about but I did, I did and I was going to use that to get kelp head as much support as possible.

I had just made my way around the strawberry fields when I spotted him, his body materializing out of thin air as he pushed his hair back.

I knew he had been making the rounds to different minor gods after owl-eyes and prissy left with the cyclops and satyr, making sure no one was stupid enough to follow into Kronos’s stead.

He was probably stressed, as much of an understatement that is, over the looming war as I watched him start to walk out of the moon lit field of strawberries.

“Mr. D!,” I shouted out, alerting him to my presence as I quickened my pace to get to him before he could whisk himself away from the conversation.

The bastard had the nerve to groan at the sight of my face before turning to me, “What are you doing out here, Claire? No one should be near the strawberry fields this late at night.”

I rolled my eyes at his attitude, it seemed like even the threat of war couldn’t prevent him from getting our names wrong, as I put my hands in my pockets.

“Well first, I want to thank you for healing my friend–”

“Friend?,” Mr. D asked incredulously as he interrupted me, smirking as I felt my face redden, “With the way you were in shambles at his side I would have thought you two were married for at least a century,” He smugly added, gods I hated this asshole.

Trying to reign myself in so I didn’t get myself smote on the spot, I breathed in deeply before asking him, “Okay, just—,” I started before cutting myself off trying to figure out how to tell him what happened as he raised an eyebrow, “Did you hear about what’s happened to pris–Percy?”

He looked at me as if me asking about the kid was suspicious before he shrugged, an eyebrow still raised as he said, “What’s all this about Perry? You never ask about him.”

I shrugged in return, “Well, have you?”

Mr. D, to my increasing annoyance, feigned looking deep in thought before giving me a bored expression, already tired of the conversation, “Yes, yes, I know about the quest. Heard from Hephaestus that he blew up St. Helens. I’ve got to hand it to him, that was a pretty ballsy move but other than that there’s not much to say,” he said as he waved my question off, turning to head towards the big house.

I was growing tired of his nonchalance at the situation at hand, so before he could walk off I quickly yelled out, “He landed on Calypso’s island!”

…

You could’ve heard a pin drop at the immediate silence that filled the tense air.

Mr. D stopped in his tracks as he slowly turned his head towards me, his eyes glowing an unsettling purple swirl of madness as he stared me down intensely.

It was as if I grew two heads, like he heard something so completely unbelievable it could probably beat out any of his past escapades in his younger days.

Even if I knew that Mr. D would rather fade than admit this, most people at the camp with two brain cells to rub together were able to figure out who his personal favorite besides Castor and Pollux was.

Should I have softened the blow a little, maybe, but in my defense the situation’s dire and he was clearly disinterested before I impulsively yelled out what happened to prissy.

“...What?,” Mr. D questioned, his voice dropping several octaves lower than usual as brand new vines sprouted around the strawberry bushes, growing wild by the minute as they circled around Mr. D.

Most people would have gotten the hint and high tailed it out of the vicinity, but I had a personal mission and I wasn’t about to get scared off by some shitty vines in dire need of being plucked before they littered the field.

“You heard me. Percy was on that bi—goddess’s island for two. whole. weeks!,” I exclaimed, adding emphasis on the fact that he was trapped with that predator for two weeks without help.

In an instant he had turned on his heel and disappeared in a whirl of vines, the only thing indicating he was ever even at the camp in the first place being the vines that now laid lifeless at my feet.

I felt more confident than I had when I first assured Silena and Beckendorf, because I knew that the kid would get the justice he deserved.

I left the field silently, making my way back to cabin eleven to check up on Chris with my heart just a little bit lighter and my shoulders a little less tense.

Chapter Text

Dionysus’s POV

By khaos, if the next few weeks don’t fade me, they’ll certainly claw at my godhood trying.

I’ve only recently been reeling from the effects of being closed off from a giant domain of mine, wine, and I can already feel all prior efforts to maintain my energy wane as I step onto the strawberry fields of Camp Half-Blood maintained by Demeter and I’s brats.

For almost two weeks since Annabelle dragged Peter, Gavin, and Tyler into the labyrinth I’ve been keeping busy with the council of cloven elders and minor deities.

Ever since the mere possibility of a spy at the camp had been brought to Chiron and I’s attention we’ve been working nonstop to make sure none of the dryads or naiads were tempted enough to work for Kronos, with Chiron leaving the minor gods to me.

And with the cloven elders hounding the satyrs with quests for Pan whilst simultaneously dropping all sorts of prayers for advice on me, I’d say calling this war one of the most complicated and stressful events for god standards, and even ‘complicated’ and ‘stressful’ couldn’t fully express what’s been happening here, would be accurate at best. All this without the war even truly starting, at that.

As soon as I stepped off the premises of the thick strawberry fields, years of care evident as they nearly glowed in the moonlight, I could hear my name being called to my exasperation.

I let out a groan as I laid eyes on Camila, the stress she would bring already hitting me without her even saying anything.

I turned to her, “What are you doing out here, Claire? No one should be near the strawberry fields this late at night.”

She had the nerve to roll her eyes at me, honestly what will I do with her and her chaos-bringing siblings.

“Well first, I want to thank you for healing my friend–”

“Friend?,” I interrupted, smirking as I saw her face redden the same shade as the strawberries. I was well aware of her little ‘friend’ as she put it. Chris Rodriguez, a boy claimed all too late by Hermes by the time he had joined Kronos’s side.

By the time I had gotten to him the maze had already worked its curse, insanity over taking his mind like overgrown vines left to pullate an abandoned building. If it wasn’t for me the boy would have been left to rot in a mortal asylum until his untimely death, something that wasn’t unusual for demigods I suppose.

I chose not to dwell on that depressing fact for too long, giving Chloe a smirk as I continued teasing her, “With the way you were in shambles at his side I would have thought you two were married for at least a century.”

I watched in amusement as I saw her actively try to keep herself composed lest she be smot, or something along those lines.

It's a bit sadistic but you have to get your entertainment somewhere, right?

After a while I had finally saw her open her mouth to speak, “Okay, just—”

She had abruptly cut herself off. She refused to look me in the eyes as she glanced around the open fields worriedly, a look not fitting for a daughter of Ares. I was waiting impatiently for her to continue to speak, a lone eyebrow raising in question.

“Did you hear about what’s happened to pris–Percy?,” she finally asked, still refusing to look me in the eye.

Okay, now I was definitely suspicious of her. What could have possibly happened after I left the camp?

“What’s all this about Perry? You never ask about him,” I asked in return, shrugging as I watched her face for anything that could give off an answer.

“Well, have you?,” she asked, returning my shrug with one of her own as she schooled her face and body language into something a little less readable.

I feigned being deep in thought, mostly because in reality I’ve already heard what needed to be heard about the quest from everyone else in the divine community.

The other reason being I wanted to head to the big house as quickly as possible to oversee the camp and discuss the past two weeks with Chiron.

I waved her off nonchalantly, “Yes, yes, I know about the quest. Heard from Hephaestus that he blew up St. Helens. I’ve got to hand it to him, that was a pretty ballsy move but other than that there’s not much to say,” I said, turning to walk away from Chloe after what I thought would be the end of our little late night talk.

That was before I was hit with unsuspecting news with the force of a metal bat.

All I heard were five words, but five words were enough when Caitlin had screamed them out with the intensity of a drakon’s screech. “He landed on Calypso’s island!”

…

You could have heard a rat’s squeak at the silence between the two of us, the sound of campers doing gods know what becoming white noise to us both as we stood unmoving, the air around us growing tenser.

I was abruptly stopped by her words, my head turning slowly as I could feel the intensity of my own power surge through me wildly.

“...What?,” I asked in disbelief, only vaguely aware of the change in tone as I waited for Clarisse to finish her evident internal struggle.

Her face hardened, voice more confident as she continued, “You heard me. Percy was on that bi—goddess’s island for two. whole. weeks!”

Two weeks. Two. Weeks. Two weeks of him being trapped on an island I and the other gods knew was more of a punishment for the men sent there by the fates than for Calypso, the one who was supposed to be getting punished in the first place.

Two weeks of him being trapped with a foe more mentally and physically damaging than most of the monsters demigods have ever encountered.

How could someone so young be sent to that island and why did it take him two weeks to leave? Was Hephaestus, who I knew was Calypso's most frequent visitor, not capable at the time to retrieve him the moment he had washed ashore?

Contrary to popular belief, I was very much capable of caring for my campers, despite having to be discreet about it for years to avoid my father’s ancient laws.

For most, after the first dozen kids are inevitably killed either by an outside force or for some other reason unknown to all by the fates you stop caring as much, a defense mechanism developed by most of my immortal peers.

That was a luxury, of course, to develop such a mechanism.

Despite the years of watching over children, my own or otherwise, I’ve continued to grow a fondness for all of them and Percy was no exception.

He had continued to fight desperately for a camp of kids who had done nothing but beat him down verbally and physically whilst fighting for us gods and our relationships with our own kids despite his own strained relationship with my uncle.

I had never met a hero more loyal to another, not since his namesake had died long ago. It was hard not to develop something akin to a strong favor towards the far too young hero, and to hear the possibility of something as valuable as his autonomy and consent be taken away by another stung.

I turned on my heels and left the girl without another word, grape vines surrounding me as I used my newly found adrenaline to transport myself to wherever my half-brother could possibly be.

As the vines around me fell to my feet, dissolving into the air I could see the glistening thrones of the others ahead of me.

It was awfully convenient that there seemed to be a meeting happening between a few of my fellow olympians, my eyes working to scour between the attendees of the meeting.

As of now, the only people who seemed to be of attendance were my father, Apollo, Athena, Ares, Demeter, Hestia, Hermes, and oh–there he was.

Hephaestus, the culprit in question to Percy’s prior absence at camp, sat tinkering at a new metal device unbothered by the screaming match happening between Athena and Ares.

His unkempt hair had casted shadows over his face as he curled uncomfortably into his throne, flickers of flames rising every now and then as his calloused hands worked their way around the contraption. Not that the contraption mattered much to me in my anger as I stormed across the throne room in spite of their current meeting, making my way swiftly towards his throne as I slammed my hands on the arm rests.

He had only taken notice of my presence after my grape vines had encroached onto his person, stopping him in his tracks as he found that he could no longer use his hands.

He finally looked up as the room fell silent, sighing before finally opening his mouth, “How are you–”

“What in Hades is wrong with you?,” I managed to growl out in my fury, interrupting his dull attempts to conversate as the other gods leaned in with intrigue.

In my anger, I had failed to notice that our father had stood up, crossing the distance between us and his throne as he loomed over us.

“What is the meaning of this, Dionysus?,” he asked as annoyance took over his tone.

“Yes, what is the meaning of this appearance, brother? Shouldn’t you be watching over our children right now?,” Hephaestus asked lamely with the nerve to roll his eyes at my scowling, clearly peeved at the fact I continued to restrict his movement.

I leaned further into his space, vines threatening to spread to the others as I fumed, “I should, shouldn’t I?,” I asked rhetorically as I nodded to his statement.

“But it seems the camp had been missing a camper for two weeks before he washed back up onto the camp’s shore. You wouldn’t be responsible for the fact that Percy had been holed up with Calypso for that time, would you?”

The room’s temperature fell from cold to freezing, Hephaestus stiffening at the implication of my question.

From the corner of my eye I could see Apollo further scooting out of his seat, eyeing our brother in bafflement as Hermes’s eyes widened at the mention of the island goddess.

The only thing I could give my half-brother credit for was that he at least looked ashamed, though not ashamed enough to resist defending himself, of course.

“Please, if it wasn’t for her and I’s involvement, the boy would have surely died before he could reach the camp,” he said in his and Calypso’s defense, though his confidence had clearly succumbed to the scrutiny of the gods.

“Spare me the excuses, as if you weren’t the one to send him to his almost certain death fighting for your forgotten forge against fucking telchines,” I sneered out, jabbing a accusatory finger into his broad chest. The two of us were soon distracted from one another, our heads turning as we could see Apollo standing up.

He nearly collided into the three of us in his furious haste to give our brother a piece of his mind, evidently offended at the mere implication that he either would not have been available to heal a young child or that despite his best efforts would have ultimately failed regardless.

“Enough,” our father declared, breaking through the argument as he eyed the god currently shrinking into himself on his throne.

“Dionysus, release your brother and let us discuss this matter privately. This meeting is officially over, everyone else must return to their duties immediately,” he announced to the others, everyone quickly leaving the throne room in an attempt to distance themselves from the on coming turmoil.

The only people who had hesitated to leave were Hermes and Hestia, though it did not take long for a furious Hestia to disappear in a blaze of raging fire, presumably to check back into the camp as I’ve known her to do.

Hermes had stood up shortly after, glaring at our brother before leaving without a word, his speed so quick it was as if he had never been there at all.

After I had released Hephaestus, our father had led the three of us into one of his private chambers, a luxurious room filled to brim with golden furniture embroidered with jewels as polished white marble lined the walls from floor to ceiling.

Potted plants seemed to bloom in our presence as vines instinctively reached towards me, our father stopping us in front of the king sized bed that laid in the middle of the vast room.

“Son,” he said surprisingly calmly towards Apollo who had been glaring daggers at the back of Hephaestus’s head, “Act civil. Dionysus, explain the situation.”

I had taken the cue quickly, explaining everything I had been told by Chelsea alongside the news I had heard prior from the nymphs as I paced back and forth in frustration while gesturing dramatically, sometimes with Hephaestus interjecting to defend himself though he was quickly hushed by both our father and Apollo.

After my rant full of complaints against my brother had ended I was been met with the rigid and uneasy feeling in the air, Apollo and father steeling their gazes against Hephaestus. We collectively stood in uncomfortable and tense silence for what felt like hours until Apollo had turned to father.

“Father,” Apollo had begun, “Let me see to Calypso’s punishment personally. Malicious acts against children cannot be forgiven.” My eyes gazed between him and our father, watching slightly anxiously for his response.

It had been a pleasant surprise as our father nodded in agreement. “My son, you have my permission,” he had announced suddenly, sending my brother off to carry out whatever wicked and cruel punishment he had decided onto the island with burning fury in his eyes.

He left us in a golden light, leaving my father to turn his full scrutiny to Hephaestus.

“Hephaestus, you are well aware of the fates that befall the men stranded on the isle of Calypso, correct?,” our father had asked with narrowed eyes, Hephaestus only nodding his head as a response.

“Tell me, son, what troubles Perseus had caused you so great it left him stranded on her shores?”

Hephaestus had tried in vain to reason with his decision, “It was not an act of retribution. The young lad was injured and I took him to the only person I could think of at the time to heal him of his ailments.”

“Over your own brother, Apollo?,” our father questioned in judgemental disbelief.

I had crossed my arms over my chest as I huffed at my half brother’s desperate attempts to save his own ass, leaving the arguing to our father as he diverted his attention from Hephaestus to me.

As he rested a hand on my shoulder, he sighed at the headache that would come over the future events. “Son, leave me to oversee his consequence. I believe you have a child to look after,” he said before moving away from me, moving towards my half-brother as fear overtook him.

I left the two alone in a swirl of purple light, the scent of wine filling the air as I steered my attention towards a certain son of Poseidon.

Chapter Text

Percy Jackson’s POV

You would think I'd learn by now that if my day was going right then it wouldn’t take long for it to go wrong. Uncomfortably wrong. So why did I believe this morning would be any different?

To recap, it’s been two weeks since Annabeth and I had completed the search for the labyrinth’s creator, Daedalus.

It was a quest we could have never completed without the help of my brother, Tyson, our best friend, Grover, and my newest friend, Rachel. And unfortunately everything went to shit immediately after the quest had finished.

First, Pan’s officially dead. It was hard on the council of cloven elders, and especially hard on Grover who had been the first satyr to ever find the faded god in over a millennium.

Despite Grover’s best efforts after we left the labyrinth, no one wanted to believe Pan was truly dead.

I could sympathize, with me, Annabeth, and his dryad girlfriend, Juniper, having comforted him for days against the pushback he received from the rest of the satyr community.

If it wasn’t for Annabeth, Grover, and surprisingly Mr. D, I would have decked that entire council. Unfortunately, the council was dissolved before I could get the chance.

Second, Daedalus, the man we were searching for, is also dead. I could feel this becoming a dreadful pattern for the future, or at least for as long as Kronos is still roaming around outside of Tartarus.

Though he wasn’t initially on our side, he eventually died on it as Nico reclaimed his soul, passing down this neat laptop to Annabeth filled with a bunch of blueprints that could have made the Hephaestus cabin jealous ten times over while I got the closest thing to a support animal I could get as a demigod, Mrs. O’Leary. That was…cool, I suppose.

Well, she’s sweet for a hellhound so I didn’t mind it that much. Now, how to convince mom to take her in?

Third, the war against Kronos has been made official as Luke, or really Kronos now, stormed the Camp’s hillside with a huge truck load of monsters.

The camp took a heavy hit, and I’m not just talking about our resources. While many people died, both on our side and theirs, two of the most notable deaths were Castor’s and Lee’s.

The two were sons of Mr. D and Apollo respectively, both killed by monsters who happened to get a lucky shot in. Despite our best efforts to heal and recoup from our losses, the entire camp felt the full force of Mr. D and Apollo’s grief, putting a damper on our overall mood for at least a week or so.

I had never seen the camp’s campfire so dull, small, and lifeless throughout my entire time of being here, not even Thalia’s tree getting poisoned could cause such a drastic change in the camp’s spirit.

So for the first time in weeks since what we’ve lovingly dubbed as ‘The Battle of the Labyrinth’ occurred, it had finally started to get better.

For instance, Chris, a recovered former recruit of Luke’s, had been recovering from a period of insanity with the help of Mr. D, the reason I’ll probably never know but his help was appreciated regardless since it was so rare. Clarisse had also started looking happier as a result, it’s almost as if she thinks the camp’s blind to their relationship.

If I had to walk in on them smashing faces one more time I think I’d start to take my chances with falling into Tartarus.

Currently, it was a bright, sunny morning, the clouds having disappeared as cheerful chatter and the smell of various plates of food filled the air.

Nico had chosen to forgo the, in my opinion, frankly stupid rules of the camp as he sat shoulder to shoulder with me for the first time since he left the camp, stealing from my plate despite the fact that he had a full plate of food sitting right in front of him.

He had chosen to stay for a couple days before leaving again to gods know where as we caught each other up to speed on whatever had happened in our lives after he left, pointedly ignoring the commotion stirred from behind us as Connor and Travis entered my view from the corner of my eye with several Demeter kids chasing after them with wild vines snapping at the cackling twins.

Honestly, when the twins got like this I could start to see the family resemblance as I remembered the time I had gotten startled by Hermes’s laugh whilst attempting to get back at one of his sons that had pranked me, causing the baby blue paint I had managed to haggle from the Apollo cabin to fall on top of me.

I could still remember grumbling for days since it took forever to get the paint out of my hair and clothes.

I shoved that absolutely charming memory back into the crevices of my head as I watched Nico ramble about some new mythomagic card he got during his time traveling the world, I guess some things never change.

He had started to tackle the stats on the, I believe it was Persephone’s, card as I noticed Mr. D starting to make his way to the front of the pavilion, feet dragging as if he couldn’t be bothered to even look at the camp.

He cleared his throat, his gaze slightly hazy as if he wasn’t really all there, which could have very well been the case since I heard from Beckendorf he had been making the rounds around the divine community lately.

“Campers,” he had barely begun before his blasé attitude had seeped into his voice, “We only have a week before camp closes for the summer-only attendees. To anyone choosing to stay, sign the—,” he said before I mentally cut him off.

I’ve been through this speech three times already, after a while you start to tune these types of speeches out. I continued to ignore Mr. D until Neeks had nudged me, tilting his head towards the god as I turned to see my gaze meet his.

“Peter Johnson.” Shit, what did I do now? As far as I knew, I hadn’t done anything wrong. For the past two weeks I could confidently say I’ve been on my best behavior, well as good as it could get when you're fretting over a future war.

I didn’t even get the time to roll my eyes as I heard him continue, “See me in my office after breakfast.”

The camp watched as Mr. D left for the big house, soon erupting into snickers and taunts as Nico, the traitor, nudged me with a cheeky smile.

“Wow, can’t stay out of trouble for two weeks?,” he teased as I shoved him away with an eye roll.

Others, like Annabeth and Clarisse, playfully jabbed at my reputation for trouble, like it was my fault I attracted so much of it.

Why do I even bother with this camp, seriously?

After breakfast, I left the little shit to deal with Mrs. O’Leary, reasoned that he could handle her since he’s uncle H’s kid after all to his valiant disagreement.

I figured that if I was going to get chewed out behind closed doors the least I could get was the satisfaction of leaving the kid to deal with the hellhound as I saw the bulldozer-sized dog tackle him.

I turned to leave for the big house, the sunlight hitting the glistening oak wood that lined its walls.

While walking, I noticed the cobblestones on the jagged path had been raised slightly, probably due to the influx of earthquakes we’ve been receiving over the years.

I side stepped the path, reaching the huge double doors with little effort. As I walked in I noticed there was a distinct lack of a certain centaur, the inside looking a lot larger without the presence of the large man.

There was a single hall at the back of the main room, leading to a few other rooms that had been closed off as a staircase laid ominously at the very end, a staircase I knew led to the oracle.

Ignoring the stairs, I walked across the room and started wandering the spacious hall, checking every door for a sign that someone might be behind the other side.

Eventually I landed on a door that simply said ‘office’, a breath of relief escaping me as I braced myself for what I could possibly be met with. Without knocking, I unexpectedly entered what looked to be a very normal, almost cozy, room.

As Mr. D sat behind a pristine, polished wood desk, I could see a large, purple lounge sofa in front of him with various patterned blankets sprawled on top.

Wine-red bean bags sat to the side of the couch as various books filled a large bookcase standing behind the plush seats.

Two boxes filled to the brim with fidget toys and stuffed animals were placed behind him as I turned to notice that the door had been next to a smaller wood table, stacks of paper and pencils, colored and regular, placed on top.

It all reminded me of an old therapist’s office I used to go to when I was a kid before I abruptly stopped, probably because my mom couldn’t afford that type of care for me at the time now that I think about it.

I continued to stand at the door when Mr. D finally gestured for me to sit down at the couch, concern tinting his eyes as he looked at me. I sat down quickly, the unbelievably soft couch overriding my senses as I looked at him.

“Percy, I believe Chiron already told you about this meeting, correct?,” Mr. D said, referencing that uncomfortable talk I had with Chiron about my time in Ogygia.

I nodded, waiting to see what he would say. “I want to hear in your own words what happened during your time in Ogygia. This talk has been long overdue.”

Chapter Text

Dionysus’s POV

The past two weeks could have been described as Tartarus brought to earth with the way things had been going wrong. There were only two silver linings in all of this. One, Pollux was still alive, and two, Percy would be alright.

To recap, it’s been two weeks since Adeline and Perry had finished their quest for Daedalus.

During their time in the labyrinth, I had been having nonstop meetings with the council of cloven elders and nature-related minor deities.

Even after the quest, I still continue to hold meetings whilst constantly being badgered with requests for my council. Unfortunately, everything fell to chaos soon after the two had returned.

To this day, I continue to detest Chiron’s decision to hire Daedalus, despite being aware that he was disguised as a demigod at the time.

The first notable event, Athena’s shining bastard, Daedalus, was now officially dead. If you had to ask me, I’d say it was a death far too late, though I didn’t want to admit that to my grieving half-sister. Noah himself had admitted to taking the man’s soul, ensuring he faces punishment in Hades for his crimes.

Another glaringly obvious thing to note in relation to his death, the hellhound Daedalus brought with him had apparently attached itself to Peter.

The only reason I haven’t sent it back to the underworld is because It’s clearly been working miracles for Patrick’s mental health over the weeks.

If I had gotten to Philip first, he would have had a much more tasteful support animal, like a Leopard. Well, there’s no rule within the camp saying he can’t have two magical pets.

The second notable event had been the declaration of Pan’s passing. His, and while I can’t say untimely, death had rippled across the satyr and nymph community, most nature deities across the pantheon coming together to hold a memorial for the late god.

I highly doubt it would have happened with how deep in denial everyone was if it wasn’t for my half-brother, Hermes, stepping in to set the message straight.

While I wasn’t able to comfort the man for long with all the meetings I was attending, I was more than sure my other siblings and our father could cover for my absence.

Pan was a good man and a better god than most, It was an understandably hard hit for Hermes.

Lamentably, I would soon come to know what It felt to lose a son too soon after Pan had faded.

And finally, and I still haven’t fully recovered from this, Castor was killed as the war against Kronos had been declared. Their army of monsters and demigods alike had stormed the hill the camp sat on top of, attacking the camp from the front entrance.

The campers fought their asses off attempting to combat their forces with Castor, Pollux, Pierce, Leon, Nathan, Claire, and Annie being the most notable fighters.

While the campers lost massive amounts of resources, and even siblings, I lost a son to a khaos damned lucky headshot. Hit with a blunt object and stabbed in the arm to be exact.

If it hadn’t been for the efforts of Apollo’s kids and Preston, his body may have been lost to me forever, claimed by Gaia whilst I burn a bodiless shroud. Damn those infernal daughters of Themis, they always found immense humor in repeating tragedies.

It was like the fates were laughing at the gods, Atropus having cut the strings between us and our children well before their time. It stung even harder for those who had never gotten the chance to even look upon their children outside of their claiming due to the ancient laws, though very few chose to grieve publicly.

Every single person aside from father, Artemis, Hera, and Hestia had lost children during the dubbed ‘Battle of the Labyrinth’, although Hestia mourned the loss just as heavily as the hearth of the throne room shrunk to the size of a sapling.

All in all, it had taken two weeks full of memorials, conferences, rebuilding, and material gathering before anyone could finally say it had gotten better.

For instance, the other olympians, mainly Apollo and Hermes, had agreed to help replenish desperately needed supplies such as ambrosia, nectar, medical supplies, and weapons, with a few blessings for protection and safety added to the mix from Hestia, Athena, and most shockingly, Hera.

The dryads and naiads had also been recuperating from their losses, helping to build up stronger magical protections for the camp’s borders as satyrs went around the nation spreading word of the dissolvement of the council of cloven elders and bringing lost demigods to the camp before Kronos could get to them.

Another minor thing that I definitely haven’t noticed was my son, Pollux, working together with the Hermes’s boys and Pedro to sneak wine into the camp and subsequently into my diet cokes.

Ever since the four started working together, I’ve been adamantly denying that I had been favoring the boys, especially Preston, to Chiron, even after I looked the other way when the boys worked together to prank the Ares cabin.

In my defense, how could I have possibly known that the Aphrodite cabin had a multitude of hair dyes for the taking, much less prevented the theft of said items.

The only criticism I had was that the purple they picked clashed with the rest of Charlotte, wine-red would have been a better color.

Currently, it was an annoyingly bright morning, courtesy of Apollo, as the kids filled the pavilion for breakfast.

Pollux was at my side, starting a more accurately described one-sided conversation about his most recent adventure with Trevor and Calvin.

Apparently the two had pranked two police stations and a local mortal news station, their reason for targeting those three specifically being that they had found out this specific news station had worked together with the police to antagonize and attempt to capture the son of Poseidon a couple years back and wanted to get ‘pay back’ for the attack on their friend’s character.

I could vaguely recall chatting with Hermes at the time when my son prayed to me for help with the growth of his vines, asking for the vines to encompass three whole buildings.

Hermes had then perked up to mention to me his sons praying to him at that very same moment for divine discreteness for the three of them. At least now I could finally piece together what the rascals had done with our blessings.

Speaking of the boys, my son had turned his head to the center of the pavilion and started chuckling, his grin making him look like an exact copy of me though I haven’t laughed much at anything in a long while.

I turned my head to where he was looking as I caught sight of the two aforementioned siblings, the two laughing maniacally as the Demeter cabin chased after them with snapping vines sprouting through the cracks of the stone floors.

How they were avoiding them I didn’t know, but I predicted it wouldn’t end well for the Hermes cabin regardless of if the boys were caught or not.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t let the chase continue since it was the final week of camp for our summer attendees.

The end of camp came the annual speech I was forced to make about the sign up sheet we had to alert us of our year rounders. With a sigh, I stood up from my table, patting Pollux on the head before leaving to take center stage.

I cleared my throat, gathering the attention of the camp. “Campers,” I began, “We only have a week before camp closes for the summer-only attendees. To anyone choosing to stay, sign the attendance sheet located in the big house or else your belongings will be thrown out.”

As the chatter began to start up amongst the campers in hushed voices, I began to narrow my attention to a certain hero of the camp. The boy had clearly been zoned out, his eyes staring into nothing in particular as I locked eyes with uncle Hades’s kid.

I gestured for the boy to get the kid’s attention, waiting patiently as Nikolai nudged Perry back into reality.

As our gazes finally met one another’s, I spoke, “Peter Johnson.” I watched as the camp’s attention snapped to Parker, said boy’s eyes widening in shock as I said his ‘name’.

Maybe before the events that would lead to the conversation I was about to have with him it would have been an amusing sight to see him in this exasperated state, but not today. Not when that woman’s, more nymph than goddess really, actions still hung in the air like a bad prophecy.

After I stormed Olympus in anger, I sat down to talk to Chiron about the events.

While we both had no real new information about his time on the island, the anger and concern had never left us.

Chiron prior to leaving the camp to visit his brothers, the party ponies, entrusted me with the talk he had apparently promised Paul before he left to finish the quest.

If I was there, I would have kept the door shut tight with vines to prevent the boy leaving for the quest, damned the consequences.

In the end it was Alexandra’s quest, not his, so he shouldn’t have had to resume the quest after possibly being assaulted, or really fighting anything at all in general.

Regardless, the damage was already done so now was the time for damage control because I’d sooner be dethroned from my status as an olympian before I let my kid go on without support.

“See me in my office after breakfast,” I finished, my voice unintentionally gruff as the rest of the camp continued to stay silent. I turned around and walked to Pollux, giving his shoulder a squeeze as we looked at each other and nodded in understanding before continuing to stroll towards the big house.

The big house, an oak wood center for the camp, looked exceptionally beautiful in the sunlight. The jagged cobblestone path, a result that came from the earthquakes we’ve been receiving recently, was sidestepped as I walked through the building’s double doors.

The common room was empty as expected, the space more vast with the disappearance of the camp’s activity director.

I briskly traversed the room as I’ve done countless times before, crossing the empty hallway as I opened the door to my office at the end of the hall.

Once I entered, I immediately sat down at my desk, looking at the clock as it revealed that breakfast would end in the next fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes I waited for Pablo to enter my office, hearing in slight amusement as he shook at the numerous locked door knobs before reaching my office.

He didn’t knock before entering, standing at the door as I watched him take in the space’s contents. I knocked at my desk, grabbing his attention as I gestured for him to take a seat.

“Percy, I believe Chiron already told you about this meeting, correct?,” I said as he took his seat at the couch in front of me, nodding. “I want to hear in your own words what happened during your time in Ogygia. This talk has been long overdue.”

Chapter Text

Percy Jackson’s POV

Shit, is this really happening right now?

First, he finally gets my name right which, may I mind you, is never a sign that something even remotely good is about to happen and then he mentions Ogygia? What in Tartarus is going on right now?

I’m starting to feel pretty cornered now that I’m sat right in front of Mr. D with the only way out of the room directly behind me as the once soft couch starts to feel more like a cushioned prison.

Right now, he’s waiting for me to start speaking while I desperately eye the tantalizingly opened window behind Mr. D showing off the entrance to the camp.

‘Do you think it would be possible for me to jump high enough to pass over him and get through it?,’ I pondered to myself, searching for every possible method I could think of to get me out of here.

Almost as if he heard my thoughts, he shook his head sighing, the previously open window shutting tight as a lone thick grape vine intertwined around the window sill just daring me to try it.

I finally bite the bullet after a while of intense silence and staring from the both of us as I reposition myself on the couch, trying to sit a bit straighter.

“Whatever they said, it isn’t true,” I defended myself, from what I wasn’t exactly sure but this whole meeting just reminded me of the old conferences I used to have at school.

Y'know, the ones where one minute the counselor lies to your face saying you’re not in trouble and then the next minute uses your words against you to get you suspended or expelled.

That’s happened a lot over the years, which was unfortunate because school-searching had become a growing cost on my mom like every other thing in our life.

Hey, in all fairness, I was a rough kid, even if some of the incidents that got me expelled technically weren’t my fault.

I was a lot of trouble for what it ended up being worth and my mom didn’t deserve that type of fate, to have a demigod child with a god that didn’t seem to grasp the concept of ‘child support’ and to deal with someone as shitty as smelly gabe for years.

Sometimes, I think about what would happen if I disappeared. Would life be better for my mom if I wasn’t here? For the camp of which my mere presence attracted so many monsters to within the minute of being claimed?

Even if I hated being on Ogygia and was creeped out by Calypso, maybe the universe was trying to tell me something the day I landed on her shore.

‘Maybe I should have stayed—’

“Percy,” I heard Mr. D spoke from beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

In my spiral, I hadn’t realized that he had left his position behind the desk, choosing to sit beside me as he held one of my hands in one hand and clasped onto my left shoulder with the other.

“I wasn’t, and would not, accuse you of anything,” he said in a voice so gentle and eyes so kind I could’ve sworn to the styx that this wasn’t Mr. D speaking to me right now. Who knew he was capable of having another emotion besides pettiness and tiredness?

Despite the change in attitude I was still skeptical of the intention of this meeting. “Then why are we here? I’m back at camp, the quest’s completed, and the camp’s rebuilding itself, there’s nothing else to talk about,” I said while narrowing my eyes, trying to lean away from the god that smelled too much of alcohol and fertilizer.

I quickly found I couldn’t as he grasped even more firmly onto my shoulder, keeping me in place. Geez, does anyone know about the phrase ‘personal space’ around here?

If anything, he only scooched closer to me, continuing to stare at me in a way that weirdly reminded me of the way my mom looks at me whenever she sees me injured.

Like I was deserving of that type of sympathy and care.

“Percy,” he began, “We’re here because your friends care about you, because I care about you. Everyone, and believe me when I say everyone, knows what it means to be stuck on that island. I cannot sit here and just let you deal with the ramifications of such a traumatizing event without extending proper assistance to you. Trust me, I know what being assaulted can do to the mind.”

I was gobsmacked, what was I supposed to say to all of that? It’s one thing to find out that people actually care about you, but to get Mr. D to make that type of confession had to have gotten some teeth-pulling involved for such a blatant admission.

Most importantly, everyone thought I was assaulted by Calypso? That’s what we’re here for? This entire meeting was for something that didn’t even happen?

I realized pretty quickly that I had to get this straightened out, if anyone needed this type of attention it certainly wasn’t me.

Maybe that’s why he’s being so kind to me, because he thinks I went through something so gut-wrenching it would drive one of their little soldiers crazy and of course we can’t have that happening. At least, not with a war still hanging above our heads.

Gods were never this kind, if they decided to descend from their stupidly perfect golden thrones to come to this wasteland of a planet then it’s because they expect something in return. Basically, their help was never really a wise investment for us mortals.

“Woah, woah, woah! Hold on a minute,” I exclaimed, taking back the hand that Mr. D held as I put my hands up in front of myself defensively, “We really need to make something crystal clear. I was not definitely not assaulted by that woman!”

This entire situation is a misunderstood mess and the worst part of it was that Mr. D looked at me as if he didn’t believe one word of what I said.

Of all the times for the gods to start giving a shit about their kids, why did it have to be now? And why did it have to be me, I’m not even really his kid!

It’s almost like he heard that last thought, seriously this was getting creepy, as before I knew it he had me in his arms.

His hold was secure and perhaps just a little bit comforting in all honesty but that’s really not the point right now. The point was that I’m now even more trapped in this conversation than I thought was possible. If this wasn’t proof the fates hated me then I don’t know what is.

I groaned as I felt him place my head on his shoulder with one of his hands, the other one rubbing circles on my back in some sort of attempt to soothe me I think.

“Please, Perseus, you don’t have to lie to me,” Mr. D said as I felt the hand that held the back of my head digging itself into my untamed curls.

Now he’s using my full name, too? What alternate universe did I fucking enter when I left that island. Maybe this whole sitch was a curse, payback for leaving Calypso alone on that island as other men have done hundreds of times, I mused.

“Dude, seriously, I’m not lying,” I reaffirmed, “Most of my time spent there was while I was unconscious—,” I said before cutting myself off.

The glare I could feel drilling into my back was filled with enough murderous intention to kill a room full of the burlest men that could have ever manned.

Seriously, I really need to find better ways of explaining things, all I ever seem to do is make my situations worse.

Before he could speak I continued my account, “--and even after I woke up we really didn’t do much during my time there. She certainly didn’t, didn’t…,” I trailed off, trying to remember my time there.

Even if she hadn’t done anything to me, while I was conscious at least, the whole island left me feeling cold. It was as if a phantom was touching me all the time, and when she held me in her arms the coldness scarily matched.

‘Maybe,’ my mind unhelpfully chimed in, ‘Just maybe, something did happen on that island–’

I shook off the thought mentally as I resumed speaking, “I, look we—we barely spent time together on that island is all I'm saying. After a while, Hephaestus came and said I had a choice to leave the island, so I took that chance and left with Calypso’s raft.”

I tried not to dwell on the look on Calypso’s face during that time, unwillingly choosing to focus on the silence that fell on the both of us after I finished talking. It was like Mr. D was contemplating something as I felt his hand on my back lightly scratch at it in a repeated sideways motion.

“So it really is worse than I thought,” I heard him mutter angrily, “Chiron was right. Not only did Hephaestus leave you stranded there for two weeks, but he had come by the island during those two weeks and still failed to collect you and bring you back to us. Back to me,” he scowled as he tightened his protective hold on me.

“But–,” I tried to speak in his defense, but when I looked back on that little ‘check-up’ he did than It all regrettably made very little sense to me.

True, the gods can’t really interfere much with demigod quests but typically that only applies if it’s their own kids they’re assisting.

As far as I knew, there’s nothing in Zeus’s mythical rule book saying the gods couldn’t help other demigods, so basically speaking their lack of help was really a choice rather than a necessity.

Wow, okay, that’s another thing to get pissed at, I might be starting to see Luke’s point. Still hate that asshole, though.

I’m pretty sure Mr. D could see the gears in my head turning as he pulled me away from him, his arms still holding onto my shoulders.

“Percy, I want you to listen to me and not try to dissect the words coming out of my mouth. Whatever she may have done to you, you will not face it alone. I will continue to help you no matter how much you push me away because you are more than just my duty, you’re one of mine,” he said as his eyes glowed for a moment with something I couldn’t really decipher, his irises having a tinge of bright purple to them. “Let me help you. Let me make this better,” Mr. D finished.

The way he said it almost made me believe he was pleading with me to let him take care of whatever this thing was.

If I hadn’t been for Mr. D using a hand to wipe away my tears, I probably wouldn’t have noticed they had fallen in the first place.

It was like something had been set off inside of me, probably because this was the first time someone besides my mom had ever said anything like this to me. I really couldn’t tell you if that, or even this whole interaction in general, was a good thing or not.

Maybe I should have said no in the long run, but it was probably close to nine in the morning and I was just so tired of everything that I wordlessly nodded in agreement.

He definitely sensed how tired I was since he let me collapse into his arms that just so happened to be ready to catch me at that moment.

As I felt my eyelids grow heavier, I could feel a weighted blanket being placed on top of me with a hand returning to play with my hair and another hand soothing my back as I vaguely heard the other campers outside resuming their normal activities as if nothing was wrong.

For just a moment I could believe everything would be alright before falling asleep to the white noise the camp supplied.

Chapter Text

Percy Jackson’s POV

Okay, it might be a bit too early to say this but I can admit it, maybe therapy isn’t that bad of an idea. But don’t tell anyone I said that, especially Mr. D and Pollux who were currently holding me hostage away from the rest of the camp despite the fact that my daily therapy session ended almost three hours ago.

In spite of the fact that it’s only been a week since I was forced into this routine, to my surprise, it seemed to be actually working on me.

I’ve been a lot happier these days, I think, which I know is especially pleasing to Annabeth and Chiron.

Even Clarisse seems to be somewhat happy for me, especially since now she can plummet me without feeling bad about it. In her words, “what’s the fun in beating you down when your life’s already doing it for me?”.

Immediately after she said that, I washed her out into the river for the fishes to pick at her and her stupid spear. Because what’s the fun in beating her down when the fishes do it for me, right?

Turns out, when you don’t make kids believe that they’re the problem and that they’re “inconveniencing” you with their make-believe fantastical problems, you actually get positive results.

If only Zeus made Mr. D go around teaching therapists and counselors how to actually do their job instead of forcing him to be a camp director, perhaps things would have been better overall.

At the current moment, the three of us were kind of just doing our own thing. Pollux had moved one of the bean bags so that he’d be sitting right behind my place from the couch, an obnoxiously purple quilt blanket spilling over his lap as he scribbled his pencil onto his notebook.

He was writing down some kind of script for a play I knew he had been working on with cabin seven to perform with at the amphitheater, but he said it would be “spoilers” if he told me exactly what it was about so I stopped asking about it.

Clearly, though, his choice of seating indicated that he didn’t fully trust me to not suddenly grab his papers to get a peak at it, which in all fairness, I have tried before with varying degrees of success.

Mr. D could be heard incoherently grumbling from behind his desk as he scowled at the small stack of papers that sat in front of him as if he thought that if he stared hard enough it would burn his troubles away. I’m pretty sure those papers were incident reports, specifically about the fight that happened yesterday at our last ‘capture the flag’ game.

Apparently, the Ares kids had picked on the wrong Apollo kid and subsequently got their asses handed to them by the end of a nock, not even the actual arrowhead which was honestly even more embarrassing.

I can’t even imagine being an Ares kid and having to explain to the literal god of war how I got my ass beat with the stick end of a lone arrow, and not even from the strongest kid in the camp at that.

Regardless of how funny it was at the time to everyone it clearly wasn’t as fun to write down the incident reports itself for the event, not to mention the headache Mr. D’s probably going to receive from my divine cousin once they’ve actually been collected by Olympus.

As much as I love this camp, you couldn’t pay me to be a camp director here, that’s how you end up with gray hairs in your twenties and after Atlas I was quite certain I didn’t need more of them.

While those two were focusing on themselves, I was focusing on this book I found about marine life. I don’t know who wrote this since the author isn’t actually mentioned in or on the book but whoever they were they clearly knew their stuff despite the book looking ancient.

I mean, seriously, the book looks like it had taken at least fifteen miracles to keep the pages together and even then the book's hanging by a thread.

Not to mention the book’s in ancient greek, so how the author knew stuff that scientists only recently discovered just three decades prior is beyond me. Maybe the book was written by a naiad or a minor sea deity since that’s kind of the only other way anyone would know half this stuff.

Unless, of course, my dad decided to try and best Athena in her own domain since they’ve been locked into some weird rivalry for the past millennium, the knowledge courtesy of Annabeth when I first came to camp.

Speaking of my dad, I looked up from my book to the intense smell of sea salt wafting through the air from the cracked open door of the office.

I knew it had to have been coming from there since the office’s windows were closed at the moment due to the hinges needing to be repaired.

Now, while I would say it might be related to a prank Travis pulled in revenge for Mr. D giving him extra chores three days ago, I chose not to.

Hey, I might be many things but a snitch wasn’t one of them.

For a moment, I thought I had imagined it until I saw Mr. D and Pollux remove their gazes from their work to stare at the door with revolted, scrunched up faces.

There was an awful lot of silence between the three of us as we honed our ears in on the rest of the camp, our ears picking up on the sound of Chrion’s hooves clomping their way through the big house’s common room before the main door could be heard opening.

“My lord,” Chiron said in shock, “Well this is certainly a surprise. To what do we owe pleasure?”

“Where is my son?,” I could hear my dad, Poseidon, questioning in a way that sounded like he was angry at something. At what, I wasn’t sure, but hopefully it wasn’t me.

I know I’ve made pissing the gods off into an occupation at this point but there were always a few select gods that you really didn’t want getting angry at you and my dad was definitely one of them.

Trust me when I say this, no one wants to slight the god of the literal sea and wake up the next day as a wandering ghost because your body exploded under the pressure of being a million feet under water.

“Now, what is the meaning of this? The boy is safe, I can assure you of that, My lord,” Chiron stated, trying to placate the increasingly angry olympian who’s sea salt smell had intensified into something almost unbearable had I not been his kid, though that same luck evidently hadn’t transferred to the other two since they looked like they were about to choke on the smell had Mr. D not filled the room with his own scent of grape vines and fertilizer.

Weirdly enough, after a session I had with him where I talked about my home life before coming to camp I hadn’t smelled wine on him since.

But that’s a thought to dwell on for another day since at the moment it sounded more and more like Chiron was about to become canned horse meat if he didn’t give my dad the answer he wanted.

“Do not play coy with me, centaur,” dad said with so much disdain and hatred that I started feeling seriously bad for Chiron, “Zeus told me everything, with my nephew, Apollo, confirming the events. If you’d like to spare yourself of the same fate that befell Hephaestus, I’d suggest you stand to the side and let me see my son. I know he’s here.”

Mr. D had long since gotten up, gathering both Pollux and I into his arms as the three of us gathered onto the couch, the sound of Chiron quickly pacing after my dad as he furiously stomped his way towards us echoing through the hall.

In just a few short seconds, the door had suddenly slammed open, the strength my dad put into opening the door having almost shattered the wood as he stood in all his godly glory.

Dad had chosen to abandon the “chill fisherman” vibe I knew him by as I saw his form shift into a fancy, floor-length, navy blue chiton, a crown of bright coral reefs and cluster pearls adorning his head as golden engraved cuffs surrounded his wrists.

His hair looked completely soaked, losing its curls in the process as it grew to his back, stray strands covering his face as he laid eyes on Mr. D. His gaze hardened at the sight of the god whilst Mr. D worked on further shielding the two of us from his anger, his body just barely covering me with the help of Pollux.

The excruciatingly intense staring contest probably could have gone on for longer had I not emerged from behind Pollux from our place in Mr. D’s arms.

The moment dad laid eyes on me his eyes had softened incredibly, the sea salt smell suddenly dying down as I felt Mr. D’s arms tighten around us. Then, in an instant, the room had fallen eerily cold.

It looked as if something akin to realization had slapped my dad across the face as he looked at me in Mr. D’s arms, his eyes brewing with resentment as he pursed his lips.

“Well,” Mr. D drawled, “Isn’t it always a pleasure seeing you, uncle,” he said despite the fact that clearly he hadn’t thought it was a pleasure at all given his annoyed tone.

My father kept his head high, scoffing as Mr. D continued. “So, what’s got your chiton in a twist this time?,” Mr. D asked snarkily as Pollux and I shared a look that asked incredulously, ‘seriously, is this how we die?’.

My dad, thankfully, only rolled his eyes as his arms crossed across his chest. “I want to speak to my son,” he said as his eyes narrowed, eyeing Pollux and Mr. D harshly, “alone.”

Mr. D glared at dad but said nothing, grip loosening on the both of us as he wordlessly nudged Pollux out. Before Pollux got up and left he shot us one more worried glance, walking backwards outside of the door as he eyed my dad in contempt before finally turning around and walking down the hall with Chiron on his heel.

It wasn’t until we heard the front door shut with a ‘click’ did my dad start speaking again, this time with more condescension. “I said—”

“I know what you said, gods, you don’t have to repeat it,” Mr. D exclaimed exasperatedly. “Then why aren’t you leaving,” my dad asked gravelly, the tension in the air growing thick with animosity.

Mr. D patted my back firmly with one hand while keeping one of my own hand’s in his, “Well, we were just in the middle of one of your son’s counseling sessions. You can’t seriously expect me to leave the boy after he had just spilled his heart out to me, can you?,” he said whilst facing me, his curls obscuring the wink he gave me that signaled that I needed to play along with the lie.

I quickly turned back to my father and nodded, laying my head on Mr. D’s shoulder to signify that I really didn’t want him to leave.

Listen, I’m generally okay standing in a room with him on the scarce days where he’s actually present in my life, but usually whenever we are alone the conversations never really tend to go well for me.

The first time I was left alone with my dad, he basically said sorry for the mere fact I even existed. That’s certainly one way of making an impression I suppose, as if that entire quest hadn’t already proved how shitty it was to be a demigod.

If I could roll my eyes at the memory, I would, but right now I was trying to figure out two things; One, what could my dad possibly want with me and two, what the fuck was going on between Mr. D and my dad.

With the way these two were acting towards each other, you could have fooled me into thinking there was some ancient myth I had skipped over during myth remedial classes that could provide context clues on what their deal was.

Dad’s eyes widened in shock at my sudden display of affection, glowering at Mr. D before gruffly moving towards the couch, sitting regally at one end as Mr. D and I huddled together on the other.

His eyes never left Mr. D as he sat, almost as if he was debating whether to smote the man where he sat.

Then he turned all his attention towards me and gave me what could have been one of the most sickeningly sweetest looks I’ve ever received from someone, a tie between how my mom and Mr. D looked at me when they thought I wasn’t looking.

It was almost as if I was the only thing that mattered to him at that moment, had ever mattered to him, like I was the best thing to ever grace upon Gaia.

If I looked closely into his eyes, there was something lying there just barely dormant. It was calculating and fierce, but I couldn’t put a name to it. Not wanting to open that can of worms, I chose to write it off as a weird god thing before fixing my gaze at one of his hands.

He had placed one hand on the couch, patting at it as a way to get me to move from my spot in Mr. D’s arms and join his side instead. I looked towards Mr. D for help, unsure what I should do.

He had the word ‘peeved’ written all over his face, very evidently unhappy about the situation but had chosen to gently push me towards him with, to his credit, an attempt to look encouraging towards me regardless.

As I hesitantly scooched closer towards my dad, I felt myself being pulled into his lap the second I was within arms length.

Seriously, what is up with them and putting me in their lap? Someone needs to tell these guys I’m not seven anymore, but for some reason I had a strange feeling that it really didn’t matter to them regardless of that fact.

Right now, there weren’t many things to shift my focus from my internal embarrassment. On one hand I could feel Mr. D’s glare striking my back and on the other hand I could see up close my dad’s indescribable gaze, looking as if he was holding a newborn baby for the first time.

Ugh, I’m starting to wish I was twelve again, back when my dad ignored me and I never knew about this stupid camp. I’d take Nancy over this any day.

“Percy,” I heard my dad speak, pulling me out of my irritated thoughts, “I heard about your quest with Athena’s daughter.” I looked at him blankly as I stayed quiet, trying to figure out what he was getting at until it suddenly clicked in my head.

Of fucking course it’s about that damned island, again. Really, how many talks about this place was I going to get until we all collectively decided to drop it? Suppressing a groan, I looked towards my father.

He had this seriously dark look on his face, grim at the thought of my quest as have others who’ve known of it.

I get it, truly, that the situation was really fucking bad, but it couldn’t have been so bad it brought the damn olympians together. You know, the most fragmented group of people I’ve ever seen in my life right next to American politicians.

I just couldn’t get what everyone else was seeing no matter how hard I tried and it made me feel like I was a fresh face at camp all over again, an outcast with no idea what was happening around me. I think I spoke too soon about the therapy’s effects on me because clearly It hadn’t worked well enough.

“Percy,” dad said softly, “I won’t make you recount the events,” he said as I breathed out a sigh of relief.

“But—”

‘Fuck,’ I thought to myself.

“I came here to ask you something, something that’s been bothering me since the moment I heard about this incident,” my dad finished, his eyes examining me with a mix of distress and protectiveness.

“Oh, well, um, what—what did you want to ask me?,” I said nervously, trying to lessen his grip on me as he effortlessly kept me in place. From behind I could feel Mr. D’s eagerness to take me away from my father, the smell of vines just itching to grab me as we both waited for my father to ask his question.

At the moment, my father seemed to be pondering how to approach me, like I’d shatter if he said the wrong thing.

At this thought, I felt myself getting impatient and maybe a little offended.

I’ve been through the minotaur, furies, titans, and whatever else was noteworthy enough to get written into the history books. Whatever my dad was going to say, I knew I could take it, so I wished he’d stop looking at me like I'm just this helpless kid and get on with it already—

“Why didn’t you pray to me?,” I heard my dad’s voice cut through my irritation.

“...What?,” I asked in shock, eyes wide as I looked into my dad’s face that reeked with sadness.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me? Why, Perseus, did I have to find out through my brother of all people about what happened? Why didn’t you trust me enough to bring forth this information? Did you truly believe in your heart that I would not have fought for you, my child? Did you believe yourself so unworthy of my time that I would not retrieve you from that island?,” he spilled out, questions pouring by the second as his hold on me strengthened, bringing my face to his chest.

I was at a loss for words, sputtering while trying to find the answer to his numerous questions.

In truth, I really hadn’t thought about my dad at all during my time there. Ever since the quest for the fleece, it never really occurred to me that he would hear my prayers, much less rescue me from Ogygia. It sort of wounded me to hear my dad’s desperate questioning.

After a while, I stopped trying to answer the questions, realizing that I didn’t really have a good enough answer to soothe him and his heartache. Instead, I took a deep breath before putting my arms around him, hiding my face from him as I pressed myself fully into his chest.

The only thing I could say to him were two words, “I–,” I bit my lip to prevent my voice from cracking, “I’m sorry.”

Whatever tension had been in the air prior had dissolved as the room fell still, my dad hugging me back fiercely as a single thin grape vine snaked its way to my hand in secret, as if Mr. D was trying to hold my hand in comfort from his place on the couch.

“No, I’m the one who's sorry, my pearl,” dad said, pulling away from me just enough to place a soft hand on my cheek as I buried my face into his palm.

A single tear had rolled down my face as he rubbed it away with his thumb, leaning down to place a kiss to the crown of my head.

“It’s evident that I hadn’t made myself and my intentions clear to you over the years,” dad began, “I will always be with you, child. Should anyone tear you away from me, I would recede the waters from the land and let the world fall into a deserted state. If you had asked me, I would bring cities down to the underworld at your request,” he sighed out, resting his forehead on top of mine, “Never let yourself believe you are not mine, nor that my time is not yours to hold, my sea star.”

I nodded in agreement, a small part of me wanting to doubt his words but my gut told me otherwise. Just then I heard Pollux’s voice from the common room.

“Percy, Dad, it’s almost time for dinner!,” Pollux shouted before leaving again, the door clicking behind him as I turned from my dad to Mr. D.

“Well won’t you look at the time,” Mr. D suddenly spoke, “It seems as though it’s time for us to return to the rest of the camp, uncle,” Mr. D said with narrowed eyes, placing a hand on my shoulder as the grape vine intertwined with my hand retreated.

My dad looked back at him with hostility, irritated at the idea of having to leave me but knowing it was fruitless to hold me back from camp, he had finally let me go.

Before placing me back on the couch he leaned over to place a gentle kiss on my forehead, “Do not ever forget what i’ve said to you today,” he reminded me. “Now, run along, Percy. I have much more to discuss with Dionysus,” he said gently, gesturing towards the door.

Before I got up, I looked towards Mr. D for approval as he nodded in agreement with my dad, also gesturing towards the door. I quickly left the office in silence, leaving the big house in search of Pollux and my other friends.

Dionysus’s POV

After being forced to bear witness to my uncle finally communicating to his own son after what could have very well been years since even speaking to him, my other son, Pollux, had unknowingly barged into the rescue with an announcement of dinner.

Thank khaos for him because if I had to sit through anymore public displays of affection towards my kid I would have ripped him away from the boy regardless of if he’s his “actual” father.

In my stew, I had almost missed it when Poseidon mentioned wanting to speak to me personally.

I knew that this little “talk” wasn’t going to go down well in the slightest so I rushed to agree with him, ushering Peter out of the room in a haste for him to escape the conflict that would soon fall upon me and his father.

After we both waited for the eager boy to leave the building entirely, Poseidon had almost jumped at the chance to fight me right there and then.

“You insolent bastard,” Poseidon said with gritted teeth, “You forget your place and have overstepped onto what is mine. Leave my son alone, lest I remind you of your time in pieces,” he finished with a threat onto my immortal life.

He talked as if I wasn’t the one consistently helping “his” son overcome his time on that dastardly island and more. The absolute nerve he had to speak to me as if he hadn't been absent from most of the boy's life. How dare he. 

“It seems as though you, uncle, have forgotten why gods such as yourself keep themselves and their children at arm’s length,” I rebutted with a raised voice, “How can you keep your promises whilst keeping your kid safe? We both know that the more you spend time with him, the stronger his scent becomes with monsters. Not to mention his poor mother, who cannot defend herself from such threats. What will you do without breaking the ancient laws, hm?”

Poseidon was seething, but it failed to deter me from what I was about to say next.

“This isn’t even mentioning all the mental health issues Perseus has. Aside from Apollo, who we both know better than anyone else how busy he can be despite his care for children, who else better to provide counseling than the god of madness, forced to oversee this camp for the next hundred years? You surely would not try to rid your kid of his only real support system in the godly realm, would you?,” I rhetorically asked, already knowing the answer to my question.

I watched in amusement as I saw my uncle restraining himself from trying to smite me, knowing that I was right despite his attempts to dispute it.

Before he could answer, we both heard the front door opening, Perry calling out to me.

“Mr. D, are you coming or not? Connor and Travis are planning on pranking some Aphrodite kids and Pollux is recording,” we heard Parker yell from the common room. “In a moment,” I yelled back, eyeing the way Poseidon scowled at me.

As I strutted towards the door in triumph with a smirk on my face I sensed an item being thrown at me at full force, dodging just in time to see a trident lodged into the wall.

“You may have won for the moment, Dionysus, but you will not have him for long. I will come back to take what’s rightfully mine,” Poseidon said gravely, disappearing into a golden mist before I could speak.

“Crazy bastard,” I muttered while leaving my office, walking towards the common room to see Pedro waiting for me.

“C’mon we have to hurry or else we’ll miss the show,” Pierre exclaimed in childish excitement as he pulled me towards the door by my wrist.

I shook my head in exasperated fondness, walking out to see the pavilion filled with the campers I worked hard to keep alive over the years.

Perhaps these next hundred years won’t be so bad if it meant spending it with these kids.