Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Percy stared at the two glowing masks above his head. One had a large grin, and the other had an over-exaggerated frown. Percy had woken up at this strange camp no more than twenty minutes ago. He'd barely grieved the loss of his mom, and now he was sat across from his father? It was ridiculous. So ridiculous that he had to physically stop himself from laughing. It wasn't even funny, but he had no idea how he was supposed to react to this.

Grover was sat next to him, half chewed soda can practically falling out of his open mouth. He looked like the world had just blown up in front of him as his eyes darted back and forth between Percy and Mr. D.

Mr Brunner—Chiron, whatever his name was, looked no better. He was much more composed, but the shock was clear on his face. Even Percy could see it, and he had to crane his neck up to look at Chiron while he was in horse form. Centaur form?

Mr. D himself was slouched back in his chair, holding up his playing cards like he'd just made a decision he deeply regretted. Served him right. How could he do this to Percy? The guy couldn't have let him adjust slightly before thrusting such a large revelation on his head. Literally. On his head. The glowing masks had stared to fade, but Percy could feel the image burned into his mind.

Percy had spent his whole life wondering about his father and now? The man was sitting in front of him gulping down a new can of Diet Coke like he desperately wished it was wine. This couldn’t be right. It could not be right. Percy refused to believe it. This 'Dionysus' dude was his dad. The God part wasn't even what shocked Percy most. The man looked like a cherub that had wandered into a trailer park, died of alcohol poisoning, and was then resurrected by the pure adrenaline rush that came from caffeine and gambling.

His mom always told Percy he looked like his father. He was now beginning to believe that was an insult. The black curly hair he could get. Even though Mr D's hair twinged purple in the light and Percy's was always more blue tinted. Mr. D's eyes were purple as well, a sort of vibrant lilac. Percy's were sea green. Mr. D was pale, Percy was tan. The only thing Percy could say they had in common was the height.

"Mr. D." Mr Brunner began stoically. "Are you sure Percy is your child?"

"Of course he is. Can't you see the resemblance?" Mr. D stared intently at his cards.

"No." Grover really was contemplating his whole existence. Percy didn't blame him. If he was in a more stable state of mind, he'd be doing the same.

"Peter looks just like his siblings." Mr. D gestured at Percy up and down.

"Mr. D, Percy looks nothing like Castor and Pollux." Groves said.

"They're practically twins."

"They are already twins." Chiron pointed out.

"Triplets, then. Besides whatever he doesn't get from me, he clearly gets from his mother. Has her eyes and everything."

Mr. D was just lying at this point. Percy wondered what was influencing the man to do this. Or maybe he just didn't remember what Percy's mom looked like. That option angered him more.

Grover winces slightly. "Uh, Mr. D–"

"I'm done here. I need a nap before the sing-along tonight." Mr. D dropped the cards on the table. "Grover, the Council."

Grover’s face beaded with sweat. "Y-Yes, sir."

Mr. D stepped off the porch and strolled away, Grover followed behind slowly after shooting a pitying look at Percy.

Percy couldn't figure out which of them it was for. "Grover’s gonna be okay, right?"

"Of course he will be. Old Dionysus isn't truly mad. He just hated his job." Chiron had successfully smoothed his face into its regular calm demeor.

Percy found it comforting. At least something wasn't completely and utterly crazy. He was going to ignore the fact Chiron was half horse.

"What just happened?" Percy pleaded.

"Ah, I must say, I am as lost on that as you are. I believe it would be best to get you to your cabin. You can meet your...brothers."

Percy stared at the two boys sat across from him. Twins was certainly right. They both had the same light blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. Something about them reminded Percy of Dionysus he just couldn't put his finger on it.

The look of bewilderment on their faces was familiar, too. Chiron and Grover had worn it, Annabeth had worn it when Chiron informed her that Percy would not be staying in Cabin Eleven. It seemed that no one really expected Mr. D to have another kid.

"This is amazing!" The left one—Pollux, he'd said—exclaimed.

"Is it?"

"Yes. Now I have two younger siblings."

"I'm older." Castor said.

"I'm older."

"Literally everyone says differently."

"Like who?"

Castor listed the reason on his fingers. "Like our mom, our dad, our birth certificates."

"How would Dad know? He wasn't there." Pollux waved his hand around and huffed. "Whatever. I'll take Percy to the strawberry fields. You find dad and tell him we need a third bed."

The cabin was a complete and utter mess, though it seemed chaotically organised. Everything had its place, even if that place was a pile of junk. One side of the room was covered with plants. The other was covered with a variety of costumes and stage props. All the furniture was old, like fancy old. The kind Percy would expect to see in old movies. Or on a stage.

Pollux was right, however. There were only two beds. Percy wasn't quite sure where a third one would come from. Would he have to build it? He hoped not.

The strawberry fields were nice. They would be much nicer if Percy wasn't immediately consumed with memories when he saw them. He'd been staring at the strawberry fields when he first woke up. When he realised that his mom was really dead. Tears began to cloud his vision. He didn't want to cry. Especially not in front of his new brother, that would be so awkward.

He couldn’t believe he had brothers. He couldn’t believe he had a dad. He was half convinced that it was all just some sick joke.

"Ooh, look, there's Miranda." Pollux waved to a blonde girl tending to strawberries. "Come on."

Percy was dragged through the fields, and he very carefully tried not to step on any strawberries, but he was certain some had been squished regardless.

"Hey, Pollux. Who's this?" The girl had bright green eyes, the color of leaves in summer.

"This is Percy Jackson—

"That Percy Jackson?"

"My new brother!" Pollux announced like it was the best thing in the world.

At least someone was happy about the revelation.

"Brother?" Miranda's mouth hung open, which was clearly a common reaction. "Like Mr. D's kid?"

"Hi." Percy said awkwardly.

"Well, that makes sense, I guess." Miranda concluded.

"How?" Percy was confused on what about him, and Mr D was so similar. Not even Chiron seemed to believe it.

"Only a child of the God of Madness would try and fight a monster that large, unarmed, and still win. It's completely crazy. Not to mention, you prioritised getting Grover through the border. Satyrs are closely connected to Dionysus."

Percy was silent for a few seconds before he spoke. "Is this all common knowledge? The stuff with the Mino—"

"Names!" Pollux interrupted. "Don't say them."

Percy nodded, and Miranda replied. "Yeah, kinda. You were unconscious for two days, and new spreads fast in a camp like this." She paused. "Sorry about your mom."

Percy looked down at his hands. They were suddenly more interesting than anything else. "Thanks..."

Pollux placed a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we should get back to the cabin. We can see if Castor had successfully acquired you a bed."

The pair of them returned to Cabin Twelve to find that Castor had, in fact, acquired a third bed. It was the exact same as the other two. Made of dark wood and draped with purple sheets.

Castor looked up when they entered and burst out laughing. "What happened to you?

Percy and Pollux stood on the doorway. One was perfectly fine, if slightly frazzled. The other was soaked from head to toe.

"A small run-in with Clarisse." Pollux explained.

"She drop you in the lake?"

"It's not funny."

"It's a little funny." Percy said.

He treaded slowly over to his new bed. It looked much more comfortable than his bed back home. The thought made him feel guilty. His mom always tried her best to make sure Percy was comfortable. Smelly Gabe just made it hard. He needed to do something before he started crying.

"Is that normal? The thing with the pipes?"

"What happened with the pipes?"

"I have no idea." Pollux said. "It's probably best to ask Dad. We're technically not supposed to see him too often. The Gods and their rules. But we sneak over to the Big House every few nights."

"Yeah, we'll do that. But what happened with the pipes?" Castor asked again.

"Uh..." Percy thought about what to say. He wasn't even sure what he'd done. One second, Clarisse was trying to drown him in a toilet, the next, everything was soaked. "I kinda flooded the bathroom."

Castor scrunched his face before he broke out into a massive grin. "Cool."

"He's not your child."

"Ugh, are you still on this, Chiron." Dionysus complained. "The child is...mine. End of."

Chiron turned from the window, his eyes twinkling in a way that said he didn't believe a word he was hearing. "He can control water."

"So? Water to wine or something like that. He's just stuck in the water stage. It's fine. He'll grow out of it."

"Grow out of it?"

Dionysus took a long sip of his diet Coke. "The kid is clearly a slow learner. Pedro will get there."

"Percy."  Chiron corrected.

"Like I said."

"This isn’t working." Percy complained.

"It's working." Pollux reassured him. "Those strawberries are looking brighter already."

Castor leaned over. "They're really not." He got whacked over the head. "I mean, they look amazing."

Percy slumped back on the dirt and stared disdainfully at all the plants around him. This really wasn't working. The most he'd done was accidentally dehydrate a flower, and no one had figured out how exactly he managed that.

"It's fine, Percy, really." Pollux sat down across from him. "Plants aren't really my thing either. I do throw killer parties, incase you were wondering."

Miranda walked by carrying a bag of garden tools. "No progress yet?"

Percy dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

The sun was slowly setting, and curfew was quickly approaching. The rest of the campers were dispersing from the campfire, but Percy found himself on the beach.

The sea always soothed him, and things had been crazy at Camp. Something had happened. The nature spirits were tense and always whispering. Even Grover was jumpy, he and Chiron had been talking about some Summer Solstice deadline back at Yancy. Annabeth had cornered Percy a few days after he'd been at Camp. She had questions, and unfortunately, Percy didn't have many answers.

So, he was on the beach. Trying to deal with his jumbled thoughts.

"Peter Johnson." Mr. D approached. "Always in places you shouldn't be."

"Uh, hey...Dad."

Percy swore that the water lapping at his feet tried dragging him under.

"Urgh!" Mr. D visibly shuddered.

"Yeah, thought I'd give it a shot." Percy said. "I'll stick with Mr. D."

Mr. D stood away from Percy awkwardly. He made sure to keep an eye on the sea.

"It has come to my attention that you are having trouble with your powers." Mr. D announced. "We can't have that. People might start thinking I've claimed the wrong kid."

Percy was tempted to ask if he had. He regretted the thought slightly. His mom always said his father was a good person. A lot could change in thirteen years, but Mr. D deserved a chance.

The guy only had three kids and he was more involved than ant other God. Though that was mainly because of his punishment.

"Well?"

"What?" Percy hadn't listened to the rest of the conversation.

"Hand!" Mr. D demanded.

Percy held his right hand up. Mr. D grabbed it out of the air, and it started to burn.

"Ow–Ow! Stop!"

He pulled his hand away, and it was glowing. Strange and purple and bright. There was a mark on the top of his hand. A thyrsus. Dionysus’s weapon. The outline stained his hand red before slowly starting to fade.

"What is that?"

Percy looked up and found himself alone on the beach. He looked around, but Mr. D was nowhere in sight. Percy was standing alone on the beach, his hand still held out in front of him like an idiot.

He turned to look back at the ocean and was ready to throw himself onto its cold, swirling depths.

Percy could feel something well up inside him. He felt happy. Excited. Proud. He was proud of himself. Percy didn't often feel like that. And he never expected to again, not without his mom to encourage him.

But Percy had his brothers now. Pollux and Castor. Even after Percy had failed, and failed, and failed again, they never held it against him. They taught and guided him with more patience than any of Percy's school teachers ever had.

And now Percy could grow vines. It wasn't a big vine. It was just a little thing sprouting out of a plant pot. But Percy had done that. All by himself.

He'd been seriously doubting that he was Mr. D's kid. So had a few other people. Annabeth, mainly, she would look at him sceptically during their Ancient Greek lessons. Like she expected him to slip up and reveal some deep, dark secret. Percy knew for sure now. Having that reassurance made him feel like he actually belonged.

Castor had snuck into their dad's room and stolen some of his Diet Coke's as a form of celebration. Percy had been worried at first, but the twins insisted that they did it all the time, and Percy wouldn't pass up the opportunity for more soda. Soda, or any overly caffeinated drinks, were banned from Camp when it wasn't meal time. Apparently the risks outweighed the benefits.

Percy was sure he wouldn't sleep tonight.

"How peculiar." Chiron mused.

"What now!" Dionysus threw his cards down on the table.

"Oh, nothing. It seems Percy has grown into his abilities. And just after we had our conversation."

"Chiron, leave it alone. Perry Johanssen—"

"Percy Jackson." Chiron corrected again.

"Percy Jackson." Dionysus winced. "Is my son."

Chiron remained silent for less than five minutes. "Was there a deal made? Between you and a certain other God."

"No! Why would you think that?"

"I can not think of anything else that would encourage you to do this."

Dionysus clearly tired of the conversation. He leapt out if his seat and flashed away, leaving Chiron alone with his winning hand.

Percy stared down awkwardly at the armour he was being fitted for. He had a sword and shield to test out. Though, despite all his sword training, he had yet to find a balanced blade.

"What exactly is capture the flag? I feel like I've missed a few steps."

"Two teams, red and blue, fight each other for the flag. Simple." Castor said.

"It'll be fun." Pollux handed Percy the shield.

"What if I die, or something?" Percy visibly tilted once the large metal plate was on his arm.

"Well, murder is banned. Along with maiming. You'll be fine."

"We're on the blue team, by the way." Castor stated. "Figured it wouldn't go well partnering with Clarisse’s team."

"Oh, amazing." Percy gazed at the mirror in front of him.

He was definitely going to die.

Chapter Text

The ground crunched beneath him as Percy dropped at the edge of the strawberry fields. Despite it being cloudy outside the barrier, the sky in camp was clear, which allowed the sun to shine on him persistently. Percy hated it.

"You okay?" Katie was up ahead, coaxing the strawberries into growing faster.

Percy groaned. "Great. I'm absolutely amazing."

Katie only laughed. "You had your sword fighting lesson with Cabin Eleven, huh?"

He wanted to cry. Instead, Percy tilted his head up to look at her. "Why do I even need to train with Cabin Eleven. I thought Castor and Pollux did sword training with your cabin?"

"They do." Katie nodded. "But most campers spend at least a week in Cabin Eleven before getting claimed. That means they're taught by Luke."

"Yeah. Best swordsman in three centuries, or something."

"And because you have no experience sword fighting, Chiron thought it would be best if you still did that." Katie explained.

It was all Chiron’s fault. Percy had a target in a mind.

"I'm assuming it didn't go well."

Percy threw his hands up. "I managed to disarm him the first time. Then I lost every time after."

Katie shuffled until she was hovering over Percy. "You actually managed to disarm him?"

"Yeah." At least the sun wasn't in his eyes anymore. "Beginner's luck, I guess."

Katie hummed. "What have you got next."

"Foot racing."

She stared laughing again.

Percy was resting on the pier after losing another race against the wood nymphs. He'd never realised how embarrassing it would be to lose to a tree. At least they were nice about it.

He was watching a group of Naiads weave baskets when Grover joined him. Percy had seen Grover quite a lot, but the satyr always ran off halfway through a conversation.

"How'd your talk with the Coucil go?" Percy asked. It wasn't his first time asking but it was the first time Grover answered.

He'd slumped back into the railing. "Better than expected."

“So your career’s still on track?”

Grover glanced at Percy nervously. “Chiron t-told you I want a searcher’s license?”

"Uh, no. He just said you had big plans, you know...and that you needed credit for completing a keeper’s assignment. So, did you get it?”

Grover looked down at the naiads. "They said I hadn't failed or succeeded. Because your Mr. D's kid they gave me more leniency. I either have to get three more half-bloods to camp, without any complications. Or go with you as a protector if you ever got a quest."

"I thought quests were banned?"

"They are. And even if you did get a quest, why would you want me with you?"

"Of course I'd want you with me. You're my best friend." Percy said. "What about the other thing? Getting three half-bloods. Is that a lot?"

"Eh." Grover winced. "Finding them is one thing. It's getting them to camp without complications that I clearly have trouble with."

"You got me here." Percy understood that his arrival was more than complicated, though.

Did all half-bloods get chased to the barrier by monsters?

Grover stared glumly into the water. “Basket-weaving... Must be nice to have a useful skill.”

The woods were dark, with fireflies popping in and out of view. Annabeth had put Percy on border patrol next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks. Castor and Pollux had been with him at the start, but Annabeth had moved them somewhere else, so Percy was down there alone.

Percy heard a growl from somewhere close by. Chiron had said the woods were stocked with monsters. But Percy's area was still supposed to be protected by the barrier. The knowledge didn't comfort him.

Then the growling stopped.

On the other side of the creek, the underbrush exploded. Five Ares warriors came trambling out of the dark.

"Ugh!" Clarisse groaned. "Find the flag!"

They went charging across the stream and passed Percy without a thought.

Clarisse, however, had stayed behind. "I hope you know this would be so much worse for you if I didn't want to be turned into a dolphin."

Percy paused. "A dolphin?"

Clarisse thrust her spear at him. Percy raised his shield but was still pushed back with the force. The spear crackled with red lighting, and his arm tingled. Not enough to hurt. It was more like he'd just been given an electric shock.

Percy tried swinging his sword, but Clarisse swatted it down. "Is this necessary? Don't you want the flag?"

"Being Mr. D's kid might stop my cabin from retaliating. But a little one on one fight is natural in capture the flag." Clarisse whacked his knee with the dull side of the spear and buckled to the ground. Straight into the creek.

Suddenly, he felt a lot better. Stronger, almost. The sword in his hand no longer felt unbalanced. Clarisse aimed her spear at Percy again, but he moved out the way and slashed at her shield. He moved faster, more swiftly. He could keep up with Clarisse’s attacks.

Loud cheers and elated screames erupted from behind Clarisse.

Clarisse yelled. "Ah! You can't be serious!"

She staggered towards Luke, but it was too late. The red banner shimmered and turned to silver. The boar and spear were replaced with a huge caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven. Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and started carrying him around on their shoulders. Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew the conch horn.

They had won.

Percy was joined by his brothers in the creek. They both had matching grins as they pulled him forward.

He would have happily ran forward but a voice spoke from beside him. “Where the heck did you learn to fight like that?”

The air shimmered, and Annabeth materialized, holding a Yankees baseball cap as if she’d just taken it off her head.

"Have you been there the whole time?" Percy asked.

He didn't know people could turn invisible. Could everyone at Camp do that? He wanted to try it.

The celebrations were cut short by a canine growl in the woods. The campers’ cheering died instantly.

Chiron shouted something in Ancient Greek,  “Stand ready! My bow!”

The three demigods besides Percy drew their weapons.

On the rocks just above them was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers. Percy could feel it looking straight at him.

Nobody moved except Annabeth, who yelled, “Percy, run!”

He absolutely would have, but his feet would not leave the water. Every time he tried to move, he was dragged back in. Not even Castor and Pollux's pulling could get him to budge.

The hound was fast. It leapt over everyone—an enormous shadow with teeth— and just as it hit Percy, there was a cascade of thwacking sounds, like forty pieces of paper being ripped one after the other. From the hound’s neck sprouted a cluster of arrows. The monster fell dead.

Percy had landed in the creek again. The water swirled around him, dragging him further down. Just as the air above his head shimmered slightly, large vines burst out of the forest. They wrapped around his arms and ankles and fished him out of the water. He was flown over the crowd and dragged all the way through the forest, narrowly avoiding slamming into the trees. He thrown on all directions and moved faster than he ever had before. He was going to be sick.

Before Percy had the chance to throw up, he was dropped harshly into a pile of straw. Castor and Pollux grunted behind him. Percy hadn't even realised they'd been plucked up too.

"What was that?" Percy chocked out.

Screaming came from the forest. More campers were dragged out with vines wrapped around them and dumped onto the grass.

Chiron trotted through the trees, and Mr. D shimmered into existence.

"Mr. D, what are you doing?" Chiron was so exasperated.

Mr. D didn't look impressed. "Emergency evacuation."

Percy slumped back into the hay. His head got light whenever he moved, and it would be very embarrassing to throw up in front of everyone.

"What was that?" Chiron wheeled around the cluttered office. He wouldn't have fit in his full form, but the place was away from prying ears.

"What was what?" Dionysus lazed on the chair he had found.

"In the woods."

Dionysus threw his hands up. "Chiron, you should be more focused on whoever let that Hellhound in, not on my evacuation methods."

"When have you ever tried evacuating anyone?" Chiron asked.

"Just then."

"And it had nothing to do with what appeared above Percy's head?"

Dionysus was pointedly not looking at Chiron. "I don't know what you're talking about. What appeared above Parker's head?"

"The air above him started to shimmer." Chiron rested his hands on his lap. "Almost like he was about to get claimed."

"Well, I don't know what you expect me to do about that. Maybe someone picked the wrong child. Or they tapped into the wrong connection."

"Wrong connection?"

"Happens all the time."

"Hey, Percy." Pollux looked up. "How'd your talk with Grover go."

"Um..." Percy knew he was pale. The color had drained out of his face, and he suddenly felt much more ill. "Uh."

He couldn’t get the words out. He didn't even know what to say.

"Perce. What is it?" Castor tried.

The twins paused their game of scrabble. It hadn’t been going well, anyway.

Percy dropped into the nearest chair. "Grover—He–uh, he said my mom might still be alive."

"But the Bull?"

"She didn't die like a normal mortal." Percy hated thinking about it. "She disappeared in gold light. Mortals don't...die like that. Grover thinks she's been kidnapped."

"Oh, Percy." They moved to sit beside him. "Do you know by who?"

Percy took a deep breath. "Chiron thinks it was Hades."

"Are you serious about this?" Dionysus asked, staring longingly as the glass of wine he'd summoned.

"No. I am not. I would prefer to keep him here and safe." Chiron had been contemplating his decision for a while, but it was clear no amount of talking would appease the King of the Gods. "Zeus’s master bolt has been stolen. I can only assume Hades is responsible, and we know Hades has the boys' mother."

"Send someone else." Dionysus suggested.

"Now that he knows, Percy won't stop until he goes there himself. Not to mention that Percy retrieving the master bolt will surely put him in Zeus’s good graces. However, if he finds out—"

"Finds out what?"

Chiron turned to the God and sighed. "How long do you plan to keep this up? Is this charade going to keep running until his sixteenth birthday?"

Dionysus looked at the centaur with boredem displayed clearly on his face. "How can you be so sure this kid is who you think he is?"

Chiron contemplated the answer. Dionysus was right. He had no solid proof that Percy Jackson was the son of Poseidon. But there was something about the boy that Chiron couldn't explain.

"Aside from his strange control over water and his striking resemblance to a certain Sea God?"

"He could be the child of some other Sea God." Dionysus huffed.

Chiron’s eyes sparked. "So you admit he's not your child?"

There was silence.

"I didn’t say that." Dionysus knocked over the glass of wine only for it to turn to water when he touched it. "I'm gonna go take a nap." The glass and water both disappeared. "You should focus on finding the brat that let a monster through the barrier."

With one last petulant sigh and a flourish of purple mist,  Dionysus was gone.

Percy had a bag packed full of clothes lying on his bed. Most of it wasn't actually his. It was stuff lent to him by Castor and Pollux. Percy didn't have anything with him when he arrived at camp.

The twins sat on the opposite bed and stared at him. They'd been objecting since he came back from the Big House.

"I don't think this is a good idea." Pollux complained.

"I know you don’t." Percy checked to make sure he had safely packed the money and ambrosia. Knowing him, he'd lose them. "But it's too late. I have a prophecy and everything. I'm going."

He imagined his mom in his mind. Her brown hair, her ever-changing eyes. He had to get her back.

"Chiron really gave you a quest just so you can get your mom back?" Castor looked incredulous. "I'm no saying your mom isn't important, but after the last one..."

Percy sat on his bed and faced them. "Okay, so...the quest isn't technically for my mom." They both looked at him confused. "It's to find Zeus’s stolen master bolt."

"To find what?"

"Zeus’s stolen master bolt." Percy said.

"Zeus’s..."

"Stolen master bolt." He said again.

"Stolen?"

"Yes."

Castor threw himself back on the bed, and Pollux blinked slowly like he couldn’t quite grasp what was happening.

"This what the satyrs have been talking about." Pollux mumbled.

"This is a big thing. How does no one know about this?" Castor had the exact same look Grover had on his face when Percy was claimed. Like he was questioning his entire existence.

Percy shrugged. "Olympus is keeping it quiet, I guess. Anyway, Zeus thinks Poseidon stole it. Poseidon is protesting his innocence. And Chrion thinks Hades is behind it all."

"And Hades had your mom." Pollux concluded. "So if you get the bolt, you might also get your mom."

Percy nodded.

"You'll have to go to the Underworld. Percy—"

"I know. This has been discussed."

"What did Dad say?" Pollux asked.

"Well, he seemed pretty annoyed when I showed up. Then he left for some emergency meeting on Olympus." Percy wasn't quite sure how to take it.

Mr. D didn't seem to be upset, but he wasn't exactly happy. Maybe he was annoyed that Percy had been at camp for less than a month and was already causing problems.

He was abruptly tackled onto the bed by a pair of blond messes. "If anything happens, Iris-message us."

"That might waste their drachmas." Castor countered.

"Good point. We'll Iris-message you. Every day."

"Every day seems a little excessive." Percy said.

"Every two days."

Percy had to get up. They would be leaving soon. But his brothers had him wrapped in a tight hug, and Percy really didn't want to leave. It was nice, having people that cared about him. People who weren't just his mom.

Grover yelled from outside the cabin. "Percy! Are you ready!"

Percy tried wriggling out from under them, but the twins just hugged him tighter. "I have to go."

They squeezed him tightly before finally relenting. Percy grabbed his coat and his backpack and was ready to leave when a question popped into his head.

"Hey, guys, what's an 'Iris Message'?"

Chapter Text

The quest was far more disastrous than Percy expected. Their bags were gone. Their clothes were gone. Their food was gone. Their money was mostly gone. It had been less twenty-four hours and a bus had already exploded. It wasn't even Percy's fault this time.

Mrs Dodds had decided she wanted a round two of their fight. Percy could only hope that she ended up as dead as she did the first time. He didn't really know what happened to her after the bus explosion. She had brought along her creepy grandma sisters. That was fine, Percy had two people with him as well and a cool new sword. It was a fair fight. If he excluded the fact that the Furies were older and taller and had flaming whips, which were fascinating when they weren't burning him.

On the bright side, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover had escaped relatively unscathed. Unfortunately, they ended up travelling through a forest with only the clothes they had on their back and no idea where they were going.

They had been wandering aimlessly for hours when he smelt the most delicious food. Fried, greasy, excellent food. Percy could've cried.

Grover protested, but unlike him, Percy and Annabeth couldn't eat tin cans, and they were hungry.

Following the smell led them to some roadside curio shop. The main building was a long warehouse surrounded by tons of lifelike statutes. There was a glowing red sign above the gate that was absolutely impossible to read, but Grover said the place was called 'Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium'.

Percy thought it sounded like a nice place. Annabeth clearly agreed. All sorts of statues littered the front garden: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps.

Percy would be more interested if he wasn't so hungry.

A tall Middle Eastern woman had greeted them at the door. She wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled.

The three of them posed as orphans that had gotten lost from their circus caravan. A completely believable cover story, in Percy's opinion. The woman didn't question it and invited them in.

The food was as delicious as it smelled, and Percy had been having an amazing time up until the woman tried to kill them.

They had been posing for a photo when Annabeth slipped on her invisiblity cap and shoved Percy and Grover out the way. She clearly caught on much faster than Percy, but he blamed the food.

“The Gray-Eyed One did this to me, Percy,” Medusa had told him, she didn’t sound anything like a monster. But her talons were right by his face and she could've ripped him open any second. “Annabeth’s mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this.”

Before Percy could make any stupid decisions, Grover went diving for her. The flying shoes he had gotten from Luke (technically Percy had gotten them, but heights weren’t his thing) propelled him through the air, and he held a tree brach at the ready.

“That was for Uncle Ferdinand!” Grover yelled as he hit her.

Annabeth took off her Yankees cap and appeared beside Percy. “You have to cut her head off.”

“What? Are you crazy? Let’s get out of here.”

“Medusa is a menace. She’s evil. I’d kill her myself, but...” Annabeth swallowed, as if she were about to make a difficult admission. “But you’ve got the better weapon. Besides, I’d never get close to her. She’d slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you’ve got a chance.”

“What? I can’t—”

“Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?”

Guilt tripping. Percy was being guilt tripped. But he really didn't want more people getting turned to stone.

He could do this. He'd been practising. Though, decapitation wasn't really a taught subject at Camp. It should be.

Annabeth grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. “A polished shield would be better.”

She studied the sphere critically. “The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection’s size should be off by a factor of—”

“Would you speak English?”

“I am!” She tossed Percy the glass ball. “Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly.”

Nice and simple.

“Hey, guys!” Grover yelled from somewhere above. “I think she’s unconscious!”

“Roooaaarrr!”

Percy had been practising more than just his sword fighting. Ever since, Mr. D burned that weird mark into his hand. He uncapped the pen in his hand and glanced down at Medusa in the glass ball, and saw Grover’s branch get pulled from his hands. He crashed into a stone grizzly bear.

Medusa was headed straight for the satyr. Percy couldn't let that happen.

He thought about the plants. The vines he'd been training to use. Percy could feel them running through the ground and up the walls. He willed them to him, he imagined them wrapping around Medusa. And just as she was about to luge at Grover, it happened.

"Argh!"

Twisting vines broke out the stone and wrapped around her ankles. He twisted them up her body and around her arms. Unfortunately, the sprinklers also chose that exact time to set off, soaking everything.

Percy had to wipe the water off the glass so he could see her clearly. Surely she couldn’t have actually been that ugly. Percy approached her carefully, but as quickly as possible. He wasn't sure how long the vines would hold her, but he didn't want to accidently look at her.

"Come now, Percy. You wouldn’t hurt an old woman, would you?" Medusa crooned. Her eyes seemed to stare straight through the green tint.

Percy hesitated. Her voice was so kind.

"Don't listen to her!" Grover groaned.

One of Medusa's taloned hands had managed to slice through the vines. She reached out, and Percy slashed up.

He heard a sickening shlock, then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern—the sound of a monster disintegrating. Something rolled to the ground next to his foot, and it took all his willpower to not look at it.

The vines retracted, the sprinklers ran out of water, and Percy was left with a soaked decapitated head at his feet. He should have listened when Castor and Pollux objected to the quest. It really was all his own fault that he ended up in this position.

But Medusa had said something back when she was trying to kill them. 'Don’t be a pawn of the Olymians.' Was he a pawn? He didn't think so. Sure, he was on a quest for them, but he was using that as an excuse to find his mom. Percy had no reason to take the quest otherwise. A Godly World Was III would be bad, but there were better people than Percy to stop it.

It was probably best that he make his stance on being a pawn clear before anyone got any ideas.

That was how Percy ended up with a cardboard box, packed with Medusa's head and addressed to Olympus.

If his 'not a pawn' message wasn't received, Percy figured it could still be used to send a 'Hey, I'm not dead.' message to his dad.

Percy hated poodles. Especially pink ones. They were judgemental, and the poodle in front of him was definitely snickering to Grover about something.

Percy hated it dogs in general. One minute, they're yapping in a handbag, and the next, they're a large fire-breathing monster. If Percy ever saw his mom again, he was going to apologise for all the times he'd begged for one. They weren't worth it.

There were people screaming in the back, other tourists. Percy couldn't possibly imagine what they were seeing. The rhinestone dog collar still hung around its neck, and the plate-sized dog tag was now easy to read: CHIMERA—RABID, FIRE-BREATHING, POISONOUS— IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL TARTARUS—EXT. 954.

Percy wasn't even sure if he could call that number. It wasn't like he had a phone.

The snake lady beside the monster made a hissing noise that might’ve been laughter. “Be honored, Percy Jackson. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!”

Percy stared at her. “Isn’t that a kind of anteater?”

She howled, her reptilian face turning brown and green with rage. “I hate it when people say that—"

Something shimmered on the wall beside Percy. It looked like fine mist forming into a rainbow. His brothers weren't supposed to be calling yet.

Percy had been so distracted that he barely managed to jump out of the way when the Chimera charged at him.

"Hey, Percy!" A voice cheerfully greeted.

The family and park ranger were all screaming and trying to pry the emergency door open. He couldn’t let them get hurt. Percy uncapped Riptide and ran to the other side of the deck.

“Hey, Chihuahua!” Percy yelled.

"That's kinda rude—"

The Chimera was faster than Percy would have thought possible. Its lion teeth gnashed and before Percy could even lift his sword, it opened its mouth and shot out a column of fire. Percy dove through the explosion, and the carpet lit up into flames.

"Percy!" His brothers sounded increasingly more panicked.

There was a ragged hole in the side of the Arch, with melted metal steaming around the edges. Great, he'd just helped blowtorch a national monument. The police were already looking for him, this certainly wouldn't help the accusations.

Percy slashed his blade at its neck, but it only bounced off the collar, and its serpent snake whipped round and bit him in the calf. He couldn’t even get any vines up this high. Percy couldn't fail here. He'd never see his mom again.

He attempted to strike again, but the tail wrapped around his ankles and threw him off balance, his blade when flying through the hole in the arch. Even better. Maybe if he died, he wouldn't be blamed for the arch. And he was definitely dying, the poison burned in his chest.

Chiron had said the sword would always return, but Percy didn't know how long it would take. He backed into the hole in the arch. His brothers had stopped talking, the message had probably gotten disconnected. Percy wouldn't even get to say goodbye. The Chimera advanced, growling, smoke curling from its lips.

The snake lady, Echidna, cackled. “They don’t make heroes like they used to, eh, son?”

The monster growled. It seemed in no hurry to finish him off. Percy glanced towards the family huddling in the corner. If he died, would the monsters leave them alone?

"You are a son of Dionysus, aren't you?" Echidna hissed. "You shouldn't fear madness. In fact, you should do something truly insane. Jump and retrieve your sword. Prove your bloodline."

Percy would splatter straight onto the ground if he jumped, they'd probably have to scrape him off the floor.

The Chimera’s mouth glowed red, heating up for another blast.

“You have no faith,” Echidna told me. “You do not trust the gods. I cannot blame you, little coward. Better you die now. The gods are faithless. The poison is in your heart.”

Percy looked down. He'd fought the Minotaur even with the odds stacked against him. Miranda had said that was something so insane, only a child of Dionysus would do it. His breath slowed, his vision blurred and heat struck him right as he stepped off.

"Father, help me."

Annabeth and Grover moved through the crowd while they waited for Percy to come down.

Grover was munching on a newly found tin can nervously. "Something feels wrong. I hope Percy's okay."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "He's probably fine."

"I don't understand why you don't like him."

"It's not that I don’t like him." Annabeth insisted. "He's just...Well he's a wildcard. Unpredictable, like his brothers. You think you have them all figured out, and then they do something so utterly insane."

People around them started screaming, Grover and Annabeth looked up to see flames light up the arch and form a burning hole.

"Not good. Not good." Grover bleated. "Percy's still up there. We have to—"

"Do what? The elevator is already gone. We can’t do anything." Annabeth pulled Grover so they could get a better look at the Arch.

She didn’t even have time to grieve the Arch's destruction before something fell. It was a small object, glinting in the light. Percy's sword.

Grover whined. "Oh no."

The seconds ticked by painfully slowly, people rushed around in a frenzy, the sirens got louder. Then Annabeth's breath hitched. A figure went flying out of the Arch, small, dark, and falling.

"Annie—Annabeth!"

She grabbed Grover and pushed through the crowds, determined to follow Percy's descent, but something in the air shifted. The crowds froze like they were in a trance, and Percy was blasted through the air in a flash of light. He flew further and further until he was straight above the Mississippi River, and then he dropped.

Their train had rolled into Denver on June 14th. They hadn't eaten since the night before, and they hadn't showered since Camp Half-Blood. Percy had also been put on daily watch by his brothers, which meant they were calling him every single day. They hadn't taken the Chimera news very well.

They'd found a diner after Iris-messaging Chiron. Well, technically, they'd Iris-mssaged Luke. Annabeth had blushed and stammered and dragged Grover off, leaving Percy abandoned, so he had to talk to the guy alone. Percy didn't know Luke very well outside of the sword training, he'd been nice and given Percy the flying shoes, though Percy was still confused as to why. Something Luke said had stuck with him. He'd mentioned that the thief would have to be invisible, and Percy hated that it had been playing on his mind.

He almost missed the arrival of his new, most hated god, Ares.

Percy hated many people. Mrs Dodds, Nancy Bobofit, all of his former teachers. But a certain unbridled rage settled in his chest when he saw Ares. It was unfamiliar and kind of scary that one person could cause such a reaction in him.

Nevertheless, Annabeth decided it wouldn't do well to ignore the god, so they were on a quest for him. Apparently, the God of War had been scared out of a water park. Of all things.

It wasn't even a particularly nice water park. The formerly named Waterland (currently named Watrad) was decrepit at best and carrying unknown ancient diseases at worst.

“If Ares brings his girlfriend here for a date,” Percy said, staring at the old slides and abandoned stores, “I’d hate to see what she looks like.”

“Percy,” Annabeth warned. “Be more respectful.”

“Why? I thought you hated Ares.”

“He’s still a god. And his girlfriend is very temperamental.”

“You don’t want to insult her looks,” Grover added.

“Who is she? Echidna?”

“No, Aphrodite,” Grover said, a little dreamily.
“Goddess of Love.”

Percy paused at that. His first thought was that the goddess was married. His second thought was that Aphrodite was also the Goddess of Beauty.

"He brings the Goddess of Beauty here?" A person could do a lot of things for love, but this was really lowering the standards. To a disrespectful degree.

Percy and Annabeth managed to crawl over the rusty fence, successfully avoiding injury via barbed wire. Grover, the cheater, had the advantage of flying shoes.

“Clothes,” Annabeth pointed out. “Fresh clothes.”

A souvenir shop had been left open. Merchandise lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of brightly colored clothes.

Percy was still feeling quite grimy after his dip in the Mississippi River, even though he somehow remained completely dry. The friendly naiad hadn't helped him figure that out.

So, Percy left the changing room decked out in a blue hawain shirt, Waterland branded swimming shorts, and bright red flip-flops. Percy also found some pineapple sunglasses that he couldn't resist snatching. He thought he looked pretty good until he saw himself in the mirror. Through the cracks and dusts and spider webs, Percy thought he almost looked like Mr. D.

It spurred up strange feelings inside of him. One's he did not want to confront.

Eventually, they found the only ride Ares and Aphrodite could have possibly gone on. It was an empty pool that would’ve been awesome for skateboarding. It was at least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl.

Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side, of them a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O’ LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS’ TUNNEL OF LOVE!

Percy and Annabeth had gone to fetch the shield (with much protest from the latter) when everything went wrong. A trip wire was attached to the shield, noise erupted all around them, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine.

Grover yelled, “Guys!”

Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net.

“We have to get out,” Percy said.

“Yeah!” Annabeth said.

Percy grabbed the shield and we ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down.

“Come on!” Grover shouted.

He was trying to hold open a section of the net for them, but wherever he touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around his hands.

The Cupids’ heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding them with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: “Live to Olympus in one minute...Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight...”

'Live to Olympus' didn't sound good.

“Hephaestus!” Annabeth screamed. “I’m so stupid! Eta is ‘H.’ He made this trap to catch his wife with Ares. Now we’re going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!"

It was hilariously ridiculous. Ares ran from cupid statues because he didn't want to be caught on camera.

We’d almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic...things poured out.

Annabeth screamed.

It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, all scuttling toward them in a wave of clacking, whirring metal.

“Spiders!” Annabeth said. “Sp—sp—aaaah!”

She was freaking out. Percy had never seen her like that before. He dragged Annabeth back to the boat before they were completely overwhelmed with spiders. They flooded around the pool and completely surrounded the boat. Percy uncapped Riptide and whacked the spiders away from the boat. The spiders were designed to go after Gods, who knows what they'd do to Pervy and Annabeth.

Besides, death by metal spider would be embarrassing.

Percy didn't risk his life by jumping of a six-hundred foot building just to die like that.

“Thirty, twenty-nine,” called the loudspeaker.

And it would be a broadcasted death.

Grover hovered above the pool in his flying sneakers, trying to pull the net loose, but it wouldn’t budge.

The Tunnel of Love entrance was under the net. They could use it as an exit, except that it was blocked by a million robot spiders.

“Fifteen, fourteen,” the loudspeaker called.

It's a boat ride, it would have to have water. Then Percy saw them: huge water pipes behind the mirrors, where the spiders had come from. And up above the net, next to one of the Cupids, a glass-windowed booth that must be the controller’s station.

“Grover!” he yelled. “Get into that booth! Find the ‘on’ switch!”

“But—”

“Do it!” It was their only hope. They were being overrun and Annabeth was screaming her head off. They had no other option, it had to work.

Grover was in the controller’s booth, slamming away at the buttons.

“Five, four—” Grover looked  hopelessly, raising his hands. He’d pushed every button, but still nothing was happening.

It had to work. Percy thought about the familiar feeling in his gut, the one he had back at Medusa's. He'd sprouted vibe out the ground, he'd felt them running up the walls. If he could just pull on that feeling.

“Two, one, zero!”

Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. Percy barely had time to fasten Annabeth into a seat. The tidal wave slammed into our boat, over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing us completely, but not capsizing us. The boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool.

At least his plan had worked, the buttons probably just had a delay. The water was full of short-circuiting spiders, some of them smashing against the pool’s concrete wall with such force they burst. Spotlights glared down at them. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus.

They spun around one last time, then the boat’s nose turned toward the tunnel and we rocketed through into the darkness. They held tight, both of them screamed as the boat shot curls and hugged corners and took forty-fivedegree plunges past pictures of Romeo and Juliet and a bunch of other Valentine’s Day stuff.

Before they knew it, they were out of the tunnel. The night air whistled through their hair as the boat barreled straight towards the exit.

The only problem was that the Gates of Love were chained. If they kept going at the speed they were they'd slam straight into the gates and die.

"Unfasten are your seat belt." Percy yelled.

“Are you crazy?”

“Unless you want to get smashed to death.” Percy strapped Ares’s shield to his arm. “We’re going to have to jump for it.”

Annabeth seemed to understand. She gripped Percy's hand as the gates got closer.

“On my mark,” he said.

“No! On my mark!”

“What?”

“Simple physics!” she yelled. “Force times the trajectory angle—”

“Fine!” Percyshouted. “On your mark!”

She hesitated...hesitated...then yelled, “Now!”

Crack!

The boat smashed into the pileup and they were thrown into the air, straight over the gates, over the pool, and down toward solid asphalt.

Something grabbed them from behind.

Annabeth yelled, “Ouch!”

In midair, Grover had grabbed Percy by the shirt, and Annabeth by the arm, and was trying to pull them out of a crash landing.

“You’re too heavy!” Grover said. “We’re going down!”

They spiraled toward the ground, Grover doing his best to slow the fall.

They smashed into a photo-board, Grover’s head went straight into the hole where tourists would put their faces, pretending to be Noo-Noo the Friendly Whale. Annabeth and Percy tumbled to the ground, banged up but alive.

A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had swiveled so that their cameras were trained straight on the trio, the spotlights in their faces.

"The show has come to an end!" Percy yelled to the cameras. "Thank you! Good night!"

Chapter Text

The world was full of evil people. Murders, dentists, Smelly Gabe, animal smugglers. Percy had, admittedly, never given the last much thought, but after seeing the conditions those poor animals were kept in, he knew for certain they were evil.

A lion, an antelope, and a talking zebra were all locked on cages and were abused by their captors while they remained completely helpless. Percy didn't think he would ever understand how a person could look at an innocent life and decide that they want to ruin it.

It was cruel and sadistic.

Ares wasn't much better. The god had to have known about the conditions the animals were kept in. That's probably what he was so smug about when the trio returned his shield.

Percy did learn some interesting things during their road trip, however. He learned that Grover was the satyr that guided Thalia Grace (the pine tree) to camp, and he learned that Annabeth and Luke had been with her. That's what Grover meant when he said he had horrible luck getting half-bloods to camp safely. One of them had died. The Council of Cloven Elders certainly weren't making Grover’s life easier by constantly blaming him.

Percy understood that satyrs were connected to Dionysus, but surely his dad wouldn't mind if he went and whacked a few of them with a stick.

The conversation must have left Grover emotionally drained because he was snoring mere seconds later.

Annabeth and Percy had a small heart-to-heart. It wasn't much, but it was an advancement, almost like they were friends. Percy didn't dislike Annabeth. She was rather interesting when she wasn't setting people up.

But Percy always felt like they were acquaintances more than friends. It wasn't really anyone's fault they were just two different people. Though Percy had come to the conclusion they weren't entirely different, Annabeth was using the quest and, by extension him, for her own advantage. But so was Percy, and he wasn't even honest about it. The world ending would be bad, sure, but Percy wanted his mom back.

Sleep consumed Percy and his guilty thoughts soon after. It was a strange dream. He'd had strange dreams before but nothing to that extent.

It started as a regular nightmare. He was in class being taunted by the students and teachers, a completely normal experience. Then a girl showed up wearing a straitjacket just like he was. She unruly black, punk-style hair, dark eyeliner around her stormy blue eyes, and freckles across her nose. Percy knew exactly who she was. Thalia Grace, Daughter of Zeus, he'd never seen her before. Neither Grover nor Annabeth had said anything about her appearance, but Percy knew it was Thalia.

Which was impossible because she was a pine tree. And dead.

That wasn't even the most interesting part of the nightmare. Percy ended up in a dark cavern with spirits of the dead drifting around him. From the looming pit of darkness, a voice spoke. Evil and monstrous, cold and ancient. The voice swirled out of the pit in whispers and shot ice straight down his spine.

There was, of course, the second voice. The thief. The one who had started the whole mess. Percy couldn't see them, but they were talking with the monster. Percy was so close to knowing, but he couldn’t see a thing.

Before he could hear more, Percy was caught. The attention poured over him and he froze on place.

The monster in the pit spoke, Blast his father’s blood—he is too changeable, too unpredictable. The boy brought himself hither.

Percy came to the conclusion that everything was his father's fault right before he was blasted backwards into a throne room. His mother was stood right in front of him, every speck of her was coated with gold light. Percy couldn’t even move to her. He was held back by rotting skeletons in Greek armor as they placed a wreath of thorns on his head. Each one dripped with poison that burned into his scalp.

An evil laugh echoed around the room, and Percg finally woke up.

He tried so desperately to keep his mother in his mind, but it seemed so wrong. She wasn't herself. She didn't have her wavy brunette hair or her lightly tanned skin or even her watercolor eyes. It was all just gold.

Their impromptu rescue mission kept him distracted. The dear animals were liberated (Percy tried not to think about the bowing zebra) and free to wreak havoc on Las Vegas, just like the universe intended. Or, like Grover intended, at least. The satyrs blessing should keep them safe.

And the animal smugglers had been arrested, that part was satisfying. Percy wished he could've seen more of it all but they couldn't risk getting caught by the police.

So, they were left wandering around Las Vegas in the most suffocating heat ever and no solid way West. Percy's main goal was a glass of cool lemonade and food. He wasn't quite sure what Annabeth and Grover were searching for, but Percg imagined it was something along those lines.

Eventually, they found themselves in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning that smelled like flowers—lotus blossom, probably.

The inside was even more amazing. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine.

Percy was in complete awe.

The bellhop seemed to mistake them for the kids of some rich guy, but none of them of them complained. That would risk them getting kicked back outside, and Percy hadn't cooled down enough for that.

They took the elevator upstairs and checked out their room. It was a suite with three separate bedrooms and a bar stocked with candy, sodas, and chips. A hotline to room service. Fluffy towels and water beds with feather pillows. A big-screen television with satellite and high-speed Internet. The balcony had its own hot tub, and sure enough, there was a skeet-shooting machine and a shotgun, so you could launch clay pigeons right out over the Las Vegas skyline and plug them with your gun.

Percy was pretty sure that wasn't legal, but then again, camp had a climbing wall the rained lava, they really couldn't judge.

The view over the Strip and the desert was amazing.

“Oh, goodness,” Annabeth said. “This place is...”

“Sweet,” Grover said. “Absolutely sweet.”

The clothes in the closet were all his exact size, Percy only frowned slightly at the strangeness before grabbing some to change into. He took a shower, changed clothes, then ate a bag of chips, and drank three Cokes. Percy felt better than he had in a long time.

His dream still nagged at him in the back of his mind. It was important. But he was sure it could wait.

Grover and Annabeth had showered and changed and were sat on the large sofa watching National Geographic.

“All those stations,” Percy said. “and you turn on National Geographic?”

“It’s interesting.”

“I feel good,” Grover said. “I love this place.”

Without his even realizing it, the wings sprouted out of his shoes and lifted him a foot off the ground, then back down again.

“So what now?” Annabeth asked. “Sleep?”

Grover and Percy looked at each other and grinned.

“Play time."

Percy couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun. It was exhilarating. The air was tinged with excitement, and laughter buzzed around every room. He bungee-jumped in the lobby five or six times, went on the waterslide, and snowboarded the artificial ski slope. Percy could've spent weeks there and would still find something new to enjoy. He ran into Grover a few times and saw Annabeth playing trivia games.

He wasn't sure when he started to realise something was wrong. Maybe it was when he ran into Grover for the sixth time, or at least, who he thought was Grover. The kid didn't look quite right, but Percy couldn't for the life of him getting a solid grasp on his best friend's appearance. It kept slipping away from him.

Or maybe it was when he started listening to the laughter around him. Despite being full of excitement, it was dazed, in a way. Not quite right. It wasn't right. Wasn't as natural as it should be.

Or maybe it was when that weird kid Darrin used the word "groovy" like anyone under thirty actually said that anymore.

Percy decided to test a budding theory. "Hey, Darrin. What year is it?"

“What?”

“What year is it?”

He frowned. “In the game?”

“No. In real life.”

He had to think about it. “1977.”

“No,” Percy said, getting slightly worried. “Really?”

“Hey, man. Bad vibes. I got a game happening.” After that, he started ignoring Percy.

1977. Percy couldn't have time travelled. God's were one thing, but time travel was definitely a movie thing. Was there a God of Time messing with him?

He started asking around and got different answers each time: 1985, 1993, 2001, 1924. Everyone also said they hadn't been in the Casino very long. A few days, a few weeks, nobody really cared.

Percy cared. He'd only been in Lotus Casino for a few hours, but who knows if that was actually true. He had important things to do. A deadline. A deadline...for his important thing.

What was it?

Los Angeles.

The Underworld.

Death.

His mom. Percy had to find his mom. She wasn't dead, there was still time. He had brothers, too. He had to get back to his brothers, though he was sure they would love this place.

Who else?

Percy's best friend. He had to find...Grover. Grover. What did Grover look like? Shaggy. Barn animal?

Percy was wandering past a huge 3-D sim game when it clicked in his head. Annabeth was there. Blonde ponytail, architecture fascination and all, stood playing the game.

"Come on!" Percy tugged on her arm. "We gotta go."

No response.

Percy shook her. “Annabeth?”

She looked up, annoyed. “What?”

“We need to leave.”

“Leave? What are you talking about? I’ve just got the towers—”

“This place is a trap.”

She didn’t respond until Percy shook her again. “What?”

“Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!”

“Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes.”

At least she wasn't having memory issues.

“Annabeth, there are people here from 1924. Kids who have never aged. You check in, and you stay forever.”

“So?” she asked. “Can you imagine a better place?”

"Yeah! Anywhere that isn't here."

Talking clearly wasn't working. Percg grabbed her wrist and dragged her away from the game.

“Hey!” She screamed and hit him.

Percy looked her in the eyes and said, “Spiders. Large, hairy spiders. Crawling all over you.”

That jarred her. Her vision cleared. “Oh my gods,” she said. “How long have we—”

“I don’t know, but we’ve got to find Grover.” Percy remembered him better.

The barn animal thing was because he was half goat.

They went searching, and found him playing Virtual Deer Hunter.

“Grover!” they both shouted.

He said, “Die, human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!”

He certainly was passionate.

“Grover!”

Grover turned his plastic gun to them and started clicking like they were just another image from the screen. Percy and Annabeth looked at each other, then both came to the same conclusion. They grabbed Grover by the arms nd dragged him away. His flying shoes sprang to life and started tugging his legs in the other direction as he shouted, “No! I just got to a new level! No!”

The Lotus bellhop hurried up to them. “Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?”

“We’re leaving,” Percy said.

“Such a shame,” he made it sound like them leaving would genuinely break his heart.“We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members.”

Percy resisted the urge to grab one. It was fake, all fake. It wasn't even real fun, something was messing with their minds.

Fake fun wasn't as fun as real fun. Simple.

Grover reached for the card, but Annabeth yanked back his arm and said, “No, thanks.”

They walked towards the door, and the smells and sounds only got more irresistible. Their room was left abandoned upstairs, if they could just get one night of sleep in the comfy bed...

They burst through the doors and ran down the street, away from the Lotus Casion. It looked to be afternoon, about the same time of day they entered the casino. But Percy knew that was wrong. The weather had completely changed.

Ares's backpack was slung over Percy's shoulder, which was definitely odd because Percy had thrown it away back in the hotel room. He didn’t have time to think about it because he spotted a news stand and ran straight for it. The year was the same, much to Percy's relief. Then he saw the date.

June twentieth.

They'd been in the Lotus Casino for five days.

There was only one day left until the winter solstice.

A FEW DAYS EARLIER

"That's not your son."

"Yes, Chiron. You've said. Many times. If I wanted a parrot, I'd turn you into one."

Chiron stared at the screen in front of him. Hephaestus TV's most recent episode of Caught In The Act was supposed to feature Ares and Aphrodite. Instead, he was watching a rerun of Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson being thrown around a flooding tunnel.

He watched the pair of them leap of the boat and over the gate right before they crashed and breathed out a sigh of relief as Grover caught the midair.

The episode ended with Percy wishing everyone goodnight. Chiron closed the laptop and pinched his nose between his fingers.

"He certainly has your flair for the dramatics."

Poseidon watched from his throne as his son was thrown around a flooded tunnel. With a daughter of Athena, of all demigods. On a show for couples, of all things.

The feelings that rolled through him were almost worse than the ones he had when Dionysus answered his son's prayer. That was specifically directed towards Perseus's father.

Dionysus knew what he was doing. He was always a chaos seeking brat, as bad as Hermes.

Poseidon didn't blame his son, obviously. Perseus didn't know better. He was being deceived. But surely the child has realised that he couldn't possibly be Dionysus's actual son.

Poseidon had been watching his son closely but discreetly. The boy seemed happiest when he was with his "brothers" and that was, unfortunately, not something Poseidon could provide for him. Not without causing more risk.

He didn't understand why his not-so-drunk nephew decided to claim Perseus as his own. Possibly so he could take credit for all of Perseus's accomplishments. It had happened before, and it hadn't ended well.

Perhaps Dionysus did it simply so he could hold it over Poseidon's head. Claiming a son that wasn't actually his was bad enough. But claiming a forbidden child as his own was a different kind of crime, Zeus wouldn't take it well.

It pained Poseidon to admit it, it was possibly worse than his decade cut off from nectar and ambrosia, but Dionysus had actually helped Perseus. Poseidon trying to claim him when he had done, was perhaps a rash decision. But the boy needed a quest so he could become a hero and clear Poseidon's name.

His son, awfully smart as he was, had gotten a quest all on his own.

Zeus’s fury had really been getting annoying. It was understandable at first, his item of power had been stolen, and he was embarrassed. The weapon that was always supposed to be by his side had been plucked right from his own throne room.

Poseidon glanced to the trident held firmly in his hand. That wouldn't happen on Atlantis. Any demigod would drown before ever reaching palace, security wasn't even necessary. Of course, he still had it in the trusty form of Delphin.

"Father." Trition swam into the room. "It is your fourteenth time watching that video. Watching the uh—creatures scream is without a doubt amusing. But surely you have tired of it by now."

Poseidon grumbled on his throne. He could not yet say a word of Perseus's true parentage. He trusted his son to not betray him by spreading the word, but that didn't mean Triton would have his emotions under control.

Triton always held a certain hatred for Poseidon's mortal children.

Poseidon watched as a satyr dangled his son by the shirt and then waved away the television. Dwelling would do him no good.

If his son failed, Poseidon needed to be prepared.

Chapter Text

Annabeth watched with worry as a Neried dragged Percy beneath the waves. He didn’t protest and he didn’t struggle, he just followed the lady like she was an old friend.

She had to trust that Percy knew what he was doing. It would be a shame if they got this far just for one of them to die like that.

He was down there for a minute. Then two. Then five. There was no sign of him resurfacing. Annabeth twisted one of the beads on her necklace, Grover looked just as nervous. He was kicking pebbles through the sand and turning to look at the sea every five seconds.

If anything, this only confirmed Annabeth’s suspicions. Killing the Minotaur was an impressive feat, but she'd written Percy off after he was claimed by Dionysus.

Then she started noticing things. Little things. The pipes in the bathroom exploded while Percy was there. The sprinklers in Medusa's warehouse had miraculously started up, too. Both times, Percy walked out completely dry. Then, of course, there was the bowing zebra that he could apparently understand.

It just didn’t make sense. There was no reason for Mr. D to claim Percy, not if he was a forbidden kid. There was absolutely no benefit. All that would do is extend the God's punishment if anyone ever found out.

"He's not Mr. D's child." Annabeth stated. It was a thought she just needed to say out loud.

Grover looked down mournfully, "No. I don't think he is."

Poseidon had broken the oath just like Zeus, and Percy was his son.

What's worse is that Percy didn't even seem to know.

Percy had been hesitant to follow the Neried into the sea, but she'd helped him out once before. It would be pretty pointless to kill him now. One good thing was that Percy learned he could now breathe underwater, sort of. The Neried must have done a spell or something, Percy wasn't quite sure if it would ware off or not.

She had handed him three pearls. Gifts from Lord Poseidon. She didn't explain why Poseidon would help them, but Percy had come to the conclusion that it was either a trap to kill them or he actually wanted them to find the bolt so they could clear his name.

Percy fiddled with the pearls in his hand as he gazed up at the large sign. There were gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.

This was certainly the right place.

Despite nearly being stretched to death, Annabeth and Grover looked like they were doing fairly well. They'd had a little run-in with a monster, but the man had been thoroughly beheaded.

Percy was getting quite good at that.

“Okay. You remember the plan.”

“The plan,” Grover gulped. “Yeah. I love the plan.”

Annabeth said, “What happens if the plan doesn’t work?”

“Don’t think negative.”

“Right,” she said. “We’re entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn’t think negative.”

"Just think lovely wonderful thoughts." Percy said.

Annabeth frowned slightly.

"Peter Pan."

She rolled her eyes, then nudged Grover. "We'll be fine."

“We got this far. We’ll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem.”

Calling the Underworld grim would be an understatement. Charon (not Chiron) was a security guard/ferryman. His once creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe as soon as they stepped through the elevator doors, almost like the Underworld refused to have such light colors in it.

Even Grover and Annabeth lost their color. Brown curls fell flat and looked dull. Honey-blonde hair turned to a shade more like straw and her tan skin paled.

Soon, they were on a wooden barge and sailing through a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things—plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges. Dreams thrown away in death.

“The River Styx,” Annabeth murmured. “It’s so...”

“Polluted,” Charon said. “For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across—hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me.”

Mist curled off the filthy water. Dark stalactites poked through the gloomy fog that cloaked the ceiling. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.

Panic crawled up Percy's throat. Annabeth grabbed his hand like she could sense his worry. Or maybe she just needed reassurance that they were alive, that they hadn't become one with the glum souls occupying the barge.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones— the howl of a large animal.

“Old Three-Face is hungry,” Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. “Bad luck for you, godlings.”

So, neither of their plans worked. Charon had not believed that they died in a bathtub and Cerberus had not been interested in the stick.

On the bright side (well, not so bright, the Underworld was still glum as ever), Annabeth still had a red rubber ball on her that she'd stole from Waterland. Percy hadn't even seen the rubber balls when they were there. He also had no idea why Annabeth picked it up in the first place, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

On the super not bright side, Annabeth couldn't play ball with the dog forever, so she finally threw the ball and snuck past him.

“How did you do that?” Percy asked her, amazed.

“Obedience school,” she said breathlessly, “When I was little, at my dad’s house, we had a Doberman...”

“Never mind that,” Grover said, tugging at Percy's shirt. “Come on!”

Good things never lasted. The second they made it through the EZ DEATH gate, alarms started blaring, and the security ghouls started screeching.

They ran and hid and did more running. They ended up in the Fields of Asphodel. It was singlehandedly the most depressing place Percy had ever seen. At least until he looked to his left.

The Field of Punishment were so much worse. The screams could be heard even when they were standing so far away. The place was coated with red and smoke curled all around. It was a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas.

Percy couldn't stare for too long, he felt like throwing up.

On the right was Elysium. A much better place. If Percy focused on it long enough, he could almost drown out the screams. It was a beautiful valley surrounded by walls. Beyond the security gate were neighbourhoods of beautiful houses from every time period in history, Roman villas and medieval castles, and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors.

In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake with three small islands. The Isles of the Blest.

“That’s what it’s all about,” Annabeth said. “That’s the place for heroes.”

'The place for heroes' was rather small. So few people did good in their lives, it was depressing.

After a few miles of walking, they heard familiar screeching in the distance.

Looming on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian. Above the parapets swirled three dark batlike creatures: the Furies.

Mrs Dodds, round three. Percy was ready. Mostly.

“I suppose it’s too late to turn back,” Grover said wistfully.

“We'll be fine." Percy reassured him. "We're all gonna be so fine."

He hoped.

“Maybe we should search some of the other places first,” Grover suggested. “Like, Elysium, for instance...”

“Come on, goat boy.” Annabeth grabbed his arm.

That was when, somehow, everything got worse. Grover's shoes sprouted wings, and despite his yells, they wouldn't go back down. Percy and Annabeth tried to run after him, but he was far too fast. Just when it looked like Grover was about to burst through the gates of Hades’s palace, he veered to the right sharply.

He entered a tunnel. It was dark and cold, there was no black grass or trees, just crumbly rock. The hairs on Percy's arms bristled. It smelled horrible, old and musty, evil, almost.

The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city block.

Grover was sliding straight toward the edge. Percy paused in his running. He'd been there before, in his dreams.

What saved Grover was his hooves. The flying sneakers had always been a loose fit. All it took was him hitting a big rock, and the left shoe went flying off his feet. He was ten feet from the edge when they caught him. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, and circled around angrily before flying off into the chasm to join its twin.

They all collapsed against the obsidian gravel. Their rest was short-lived. A deep whisper rose up from the darkness.

“Percy, this place—”

“Shh.” Percy stood.

The sound was louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below. Coming from the pit.

Grover sat up. “Wh—what’s that noise?”

Annabeth could here it, too. “Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus.”

Percy uncapped Anaklusmos.

The bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant.
Percy could almost make out words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek.

As if...

“Magic,” Percy said.

“We have to get out of here,” Annabeth said.

They did, in fact, get out of there. As fast as possible. Percy saw that cavern once in his dreams and decided it was enough, seeing it in person was a whole new uncomfortable feeling.

Percy walked and walked, through wilting grass and glass-like sand, until he reached the gates of Hades’s palace. The Furies circled up ahead like vultures. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the twostory-tall bronze gates stood wide open.

Throught the gates was a garden. A flower-less  garden, instead, there were piles of gems scattered all over. Diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. Percy could just tell that his powers wouldn't work here, no matter how many poisonous mushrooms and brambly thorns there were.

They walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders.

“You know,” Grover mumbled, “I bet Hades doesn’t have trouble with door-to-door salesmen.”

Percy's backpack weighed a ton, he could feel it straining his shoulders. Nothing new had been added to it, and despite his nerves, he wasn't feeling any weaker.

Hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

“I guess that means entrez-vous,” Annabeth said.

Hades was the third god Percy had ever seen, but he was the one that really made it click. They were gods. Percy's father didn't particularly look godly, and Ares had been dressed like a biker.

Hades was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn’t bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.

“You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon,” he said in an oily voice. “After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish.”

Percy was tempted to collapse and die right there, but something caught his attention. "Poseidon isn't my dad."

That should have been the first sign something was off. Everything only went downhill from there. Hades refused to believe that Dionysus was actually Percy's dad, it was ridiculous. How could Poseidon, of all gods, be Percy's father? It didn’t make any sense.

Not that Percy could blame Hades. Just when he'd been trying to prove that he was a nice, honest demigod, he found the master bolt in his bag. His bag. The bag he'd had with him for days.

Then Hades accused Percy of stealing his helm of darkness.

After that, everything went to hell.

Percy barely got to see his mother. She'd been stood there encased in gold, and Percy didn’t save her. She was the entire reason for his quest, but when it came down to getting his mom or giving Hades the master bolt... Percy couldn't take that risk.

The three of them escaped quickly. They crushed Poseidon's pearls beneath their feet and ended up encased in milky white spheres. Percy had told Hades that he would retrieve the helm of darkness, and he intended to. As soon as he stabbed the god that tricked them.

Well, maybe not stabbed, Percy didn't have a death wish. If he did, he wouldn't have left the Underworld.

But there would be some serious talking.

So, Percy did end up stabbing Ares.

If one could even call that a stab, it was more like a slash.

The god had been waiting for them once the coast guard dropped them off at the beach.

He was just standing there with his smug facade and extremely large shotgun. There may have been some slight goading on Percy's end, but in his defence, Ares had summoned a boar to kill them. The guy couldn't even be bothered doing it himself.

Which was how Percy ended up in a sword fight with the God of War.

There were slashes, stabs, and sparks. Sirens, yells and vines at some point. Percy was going to blame the tidal wave that slammed into Ares on Poseidon.

But despite it all, Percy drew first blood. The God's golden ichor was painted across his bronze sword. Before Ares could retaliate, something old had shown up. Not literally, but Percy could feel its presence. It was old, ancient even, so evil Percy could almost choke.

Ares had left. The thing in the pit had some kind of hold on him.

Percy didn't really know how, he didn't want to know. Instead, he scooped up the metal helmet that lay on the sand and handed it to Mrs Dodds. There was no fight between them, no round three.

The three of them were questioned by the police, reporters shoved cameras in their faces. They all seemed to have a story sorted out. Something they all believed.

Percy only really remembered saying one thing before they were on a flight to New York.  “All I want, is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew...somehow...we would be okay. And I know he’ll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here’s the phone number.”

Percy doubted that Smelly Gabe watched the news, it was too informative for his tiny brain. But if he ever did see, Percy was definitely going to get killed for it.

The flight was a nightmare. Percy didn't have a problem with heights, but planes were utterly horrible. He'd never been on one before this, and he didn’t want to go on one ever again.

Annabeth and Grover went back to Camp Half-Blood. Percy had debated taking them up to Olympus, but if anything went wrong, Percy wanted them to be safe.

The elevator ride up to Olympus was nerve-wracking, but the second the doors slid open, Percy was breathless. It was magnificent, to say the least. Olympus was like a perfectly preserved Ancient Greek city that clung to the sides of a large mountain and was surrounded by clouds.

Percy passed through Olympus in a daze. Then he came to his next problem. Stairs. Lots and lots of stairs. Leading straight up to the largest palace.

It would be so embarrassing if Percy went through all that just to collapse of exhaustion in the Olymians throne room.

There were only two people in the throne room. Percy was hit with a sense of familiarity when he looked at them. He'd had a dream a few days before his quest, one he hadn't paid any mind to. Strange dreams were common, his brothers had said. There had been an eagle and horse, fighting on a beach.

The eagle sat on a large throne made of solid platinum. Zeus, the King of the Gods, he wore a dark blue pinstripe suit, he had a well-trimmed beard, marbled gray and black like a storm cloud. As Percy got closer, the air crackled and smelled like ozone.

To Zeus’s left was his brother without a doubt. Since Hades was out, it could only be Poseidon. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman’s. But his eyes and his hair... Percy almost felt like he was looking in a mirror.

An older, fishier mirror.

Even Poseidon's throne was a deep-sea fisherman’s chair. It was the simple swiveling kind, with a black leather seat and a built-in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.

Percy approached slowly but made sure to stay a good distance away, the tension in the air was overwhelming. He knelt before the platinum throne and didn't dare look up. "Lord Zeus."

"Boy." The God's voice was as loud as thunder. "What is your name?"

"Percy, uh...Perseus Jackson." Percy was technically a nickname, and though he felt more comfortable using it, the thought of the King of the Gods using it felt like an infringement of some kind.

"Well, Perseus, you have my master bolt."

Percy took out the metal cylinder, which began sparking in the Sky God’s presence, and laid it at his feet.

There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.

Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a twenty-foot javelin of arcing, hissing energy that made the hairs on my scalp rise.

"Tell me, who stole my master bolt."

Percy did. He told them everything. And he had to do while Zeus stared at him sceptically, and Poseidon stared at him with something in his eyes that Pecry couldn't quite figure out.

He almost felt like a puzzle that the Gods were trying to pick apart.

“I sense the boy tells the truth,” Zeus muttered. “But that Ares would do such a thing . . . it is most unlike him.”

“He is proud and impulsive,” Poseidon said. “It runs in the family.”

"And you aided the boy, because?"

"Clearly, he was the only chance I had of proving my innocence. Despite what I have being telling you the entire time."

Percy could already tell they were going to argue and he'd rather be out of the city when that happens. "Lord?"

They both said, “Yes?”

“Ares didn’t act alone. Someone else—something else— came up with the idea.”

Percy told them more, about his dream in the animal van and his encounter with Ares on the beach.

“In my dreams, the voice told me to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he’d been having dreams, too. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start a war.”

“You are accusing Hades, after all?” Zeus asked.

“No, I mean, Lord Zeus, I’ve been in the presence of Hades. This feeling on the beach was different. It was the same thing I felt when I got close to that pit. That was the entrance to Tartarus, wasn’t it? Something powerful and evil is stirring down there...something even older than the gods.”

Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. Percy only caught one word. Father.

Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus held up his hand angrily. “We will speak of this no more,” Zeus said. “I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal.”

He rose and looked at Percy. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. “You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much.”

“I had help, sir,” Percy said. “Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase—”

"To show my thanks, I shall ignore your baseless assumptions and allow you to return to Camp Half-Blood."

"Thank you...Sir."

"Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise, you shall taste this bolt. And it shall be your last sensation.”

Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone.

Percy was suddenly stuck alone in a room with Poseidon. Percy wondered if he should bow to him now

"Zeus," Poseidon sighed, “has always had a flair for dramatic exits. I think he would’ve done well as the God of Theater.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Uh, thank you for your help, Lord Poseidon. We wouldn't have made it out of the Underworld without those pearls." A nice, easy start. "Can I ask, what was in that pit?"

Poseidon regarded him. “Have you not guessed?”

"Kronos." Percy sighed. "The King of the Titans."

Even in the throne room of Olympus, far away from Tartarus, the name Kronos darkened the room, made the hearth fire seem not quite so warm on my back.

Poseidon gripped his trident. “In the First War, Perseus, Zeus cut our father Kronos into a thousand pieces, just as Kronos had done to his own father, Ouranos. Zeus cast Kronos’s remains into the darkest pit of Tartarus. The Titan army was scattered, their mountain fortress on Etna destroyed, their monstrous allies driven to the farthest corners of the earth. And yet Titans cannot die, any more than we gods can."

"Whatever is left of Kronos is still alive in some hideous way, still conscious in his eternal pain, still hungering for power.”

“He’s healing,” Percy said. “He’s coming back.”

If Zeus wouldn't listen, someone had to. But Poseidon only shook his head. “From time to time, over the eons, Kronos has stirred. He enters men’s nightmares and breathes evil thoughts. He wakens restless monsters from the depths. But to suggest he could rise from the pit is another thing.”

“That’s what he intends, sir. That’s what he said.”

Poseidon was silent for a long time.

“Lord Zeus has closed discussion on this matter. He will not allow talk of Kronos. You have completed your quest, child. That is all you need to do."

"But—uh, okay. Sir." Arguing with another God would do Percy no good, he was already on Ares's bad side. And possibly Hades’s. "Would you know if Hades returned my mother?"

"Even the Lord of Death pays his debts.” Poseidon said. "If you returned his helm, he has returned your mother."

"Thank you, Lord Poseidon." Percy bowed slightly. The god said no more, and Percy took it as a cue to leave.

He was about five steps away when he considered that walking off first might be rude, but he wasn't blasted so he just kept going.

Percy didn't stop until he was outside the door to his mom's apartment. The conversation with Poseidon stuck in his head, it was strange, the god had been weirdly subdued, actually helpful in a way.

Finally, Percy rang the doorbell, and there she was—his beautiful mother, smelling of peppermint and licorice, the weariness and worry evaporating from her face as soon as she saw him.

“Percy! Oh, thank goodness. Oh, my baby.”

The air was squeezed right out of him, along with all the uneasiness of the past weeks.

She told Percy she’d just appeared at the apartment that morning, scaring Gabe half out of his wits.

She didn’t remember anything since the Minotaur, and couldn’t believe it when Gabe told her Percy was a wanted criminal, traveling across the country, blowing up national monuments. She’d been going out of her mind with worry all day because she hadn’t heard the news. Gabe had forced her to go into work, saying she had a month’s salary to make up and she’d better get started.

Percy swallowed his anger and the urge to swing Riptide at Gabe's head. Percy told her the first part of his story, killing the Minotaur, waking up at Camp.

"I can't believe you never told me Dionysus was my dad." He muttered.

He felt he mom nod above him before pausing. "What?"

"I mean, Dionysus? Really? He wasn't exactly what I expected, but I got two cool brothers out of it. And—oh my gods, I haven't called them."

"Percy—"

"I said I would Iris-message them every day and it's been almost a week." They were going to kill him.

Or maybe not kill him. But lock him inside the cabin and never let him leave.

"Percy." He looked up at his mom. "Did you say Dionysus?"

"Yeah. I thought you knew my dad was god?" Percy asked. "Did you just not know which god he was?"

His mom had a confusing look on her face. Like she was trying to figure out everything out without having all the details. "Tell me again. From the start."

This time Percy told his mom everything with no pauses. He just got to the fight with Ares when Gabe's voice interrupted from the loving room. “Hey, Sally! That meat loaf done yet or what?”

She closed her eyes. “He isn’t going to be happy to see you, Percy. The store got half a million phone calls today from Los Angeles... something about free appliances.”

“Oh, yeah. About that...”

She managed a weak smile. “Just don’t make him angrier, all right? Come on.”

When Gabe saw Percy, his cigar dropped out of his mouth. His face got redder than lava. “You got nerve coming here, you little punk. I thought the police—”

“He’s not a fugitive after all,” his mom interjected. “Isn’t that wonderful, Gabe?”

Gabe looked back and forth between them. He didn’t seem to think Percy's homecoming was so wonderful.

“Bad enough I had to give back your life insurance money, Sally,” he growled. “Get me the phone. I’ll call the cops.”

“Gabe, no!”

He raised his eyebrows. “Did you just say ‘no’ ? You think I’m gonna put up with this punk again? I can still press charges against him for ruining my Camaro.”

“But—” Gabe raised his hand Percy watched his mother flinch.

For the first time, Percy realised something. That Gabe had hit his mother. Probably more than once. Percy didn't know for how long or how often he spent so much time at boarding schools that he had no way of finding out.

Percy toward Gabe and instinctively took his pen out of his pocket.

He just laughed. “What, punk? You gonna write on me? You touch me, and you are going to jail forever, you understand?”

“Hey, Gabe,” his friend Eddie interrupted. “He’s just a kid.”

Gabe looked at him resentfully and mimicked in a falsetto voice: “Just a kid.”

His other friends laughed like idiots.

“I’ll be nice to you, punk.” Gabe showed off his tobacco-stained teeth. “I’ll give you five minutes to get your stuff and clear out. After that, I call the police.”

“Gabe!” my mother pleaded.

“He ran away,” Gabe told her. “Let him stay gone.”

Percy was itching to uncap Riptide, but the blade wouldn't hurt humans. And Gabe, by the loosest definition, was human. He could just wrap the man in vines and dangle him out a window.

“Please, Percy. Come on. We’ll go to your room.”

His room had been completely filled with junk. There were stacks of used car batteries, a rotting bouquet of sympathy flowers with a card from somebody who’d seen his Barbara Walters interview.

“Gabe is just upset, honey,” his mother said “I’ll talk to him later. I’m sure it will work out.”

“Mom, it’ll never work out. Not as long as Gabe’s here.

She wrung her hands nervously. “I can... I’ll take you to work with me for the rest of the summer.
In the fall, maybe there’s another boarding school—”

“Mom.”

She lowered her eyes. “I’m trying, Percy. I just... I need some time.”

A package appeared on his bed. Percy could've sworn it wasn't there seconds ago.

It was a battered cardboard box about the right size to fit a basketball. The address on the mailing slip was in Percy's handwriting:

The Gods
Mount Olympus
600th Floor,
Empire State Building
New York, NY
With best wishes,
PERCY JACKSON

Over the top in black marker, in a man’s clear, bold print, was the address of our apartment, and the words: RETURN TO SENDER.

They clearly hadn't appreciated his message. But this gave them an opportunity. He could...

Percy looked at his mom seriously. “Mom, do you want Gabe gone?”

“Percy, it isn’t that simple. I—”

“Mom, just tell me. That jerk has been hitting you. Do you want him gone or not?”

She hesitated, then nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes, Percy. I do. And I’m trying to get up my courage to tell him. But you can’t do this for me. You can’t solve my problems.”

"I can solve this one." Percy told her. "One look inside the box and he won't bother anyone ever again."

She glanced at the package, and seemed to understand immediately. “No, Percy,” she said, stepping away. “You can’t.”

"I can. You deserve better than this, Mom. You should go to college, get your degree. You can write your novel, meet a nice guy maybe, live in a nice house. You don’t need to protect me anymore by staying with Gabe. Let me get rid of him.”

"You sound so much like your father." She muttered.

"I wouldn't say so." Percy replied. "But, please, Mom.

Your quest has reminded me that if my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself. I can’t let anyone, not even my son, take care of me. I have to... find the courage on my own.

“I’ll leave the box,” Percy said. “If he threatens you...”

She looked pale, but she nodded. “Where will you go, Percy?”

“Half-Blood Hill.”

“For the summer...or forever?”

“I guess that depends.”

She kissed his forehead. “You’ll be a hero, Percy. You’ll be the greatest of all.”

Chapter Text

Percy's arrival at Camp Half-Blood was full of excitement. The three of them were the first heroes to return since Luke, so everybody treated them like they won some big contest.

According to camp tradition, they had to wear laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in their honor then they led a procession down to the bonfire, where they got to burn the burial shrouds their cabins had made for them.

Annabeth’s shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls—Percy told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched him and told him to shut up.

Percy's shroud was a shimmering burgundy with embroidered plants: blueberry brushes, blackberry brambles, blue and golden flowers.

His brothers had put a lot of work into it, Percy felt a bit of guilt as he watched it burn.

Speaking of his brothers, they hadn't left his side since he returned. Percy was also given a very long lecture throughout the whole meal. He was happy to be back with them. Percy had managed to get quite attached in such a short period of time.

As Apollo’s cabin led the sing-along and passed out s’mores, Percy was surrounded by his brothers and his friends. He could imagine staying like that forever, happy and at home in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. He only needed one more thing to make it perfect. His mom.

Even his father’s welcome home speech didn't dampen his spirits. “Yes, yes, so the little brat didn’t get himself killed and now we're stuck with him forever. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday...”

Percy moved back into Cabin Twelve and noticed that the beds had been suspiciously moved around. His bed was now directly in between Castor and Pollux's. "So they could keep a watchful eye on him" apparently.

He felt bad for them. They'd been worried when the Iris-messages hadn't gone through, the Lotus Casino must have blocked them.

Late at night, when his brothers had long since fallen asleep, Percy laid awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sea. That's when his father showed up. It was silent at first, Percy was to exhausted to say anything.

Eventually, Dionysus spoke, "Chiron is relieved you returned alive."

"Chiron is?"

"Yes. Can't say I care too much, though your death would've left me with a lot of paperwork. Try not to cause any more trouble." Then Dionysus vanished like he had never been there.

Percy supposed that was the most care he was going to get out of his father. It was better than nothing.

A week after he got back to Camp, he received a letter from his mother. Gabe had left mysteriously—disappeared off the face of the planet, in fact. She’d reported him missing to the police, but she had a funny feeling they would never find him.

On an unrelated not she'd also sold her first life-size sculpture. She received a lot of money for it and the Soho gallery was clamoring for more of her work, which they called “a huge step forward in super-ugly neorealism.”

But don’t worry, his mom wrote. I’m done with sculpture. I’ve disposed of that box of tools you left me. It’s time for me to turn to writing.

At the bottom, she wrote a P.S.: Percy, I’ve found a good private school here in the city. I’ve put a deposit down to hold you a spot, in case you want to enroll for seventh grade. You could live at home.

But if you want to go year-round at Half-Blood Hill, I’ll understand. Just ask Chiron to give me a call.

Percy folded the note carefully and kept it on his nightstand. He would read it every night. He'd relayed the message to Chiron, though Percy wasn't too sure what his mom needed to talk about.

He spent the rest of his days training and having fun. They had sword fighting with the Demeter cabin, foot racing with the wood nymphs, and Percy, somehow, still managed to dehydrate all his strawberries.

He didn't know what he was doing wrong. Every time he tried encouraging them to grow, he just ended up sucking all the water out. 

On the bright side, the vine thing was going a lot better. They were still fruit-less, but Castor and Katie were showing him how to use them better.

On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for fireworks. The Hephaestus kids had anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. Percy was supposed to sit with his brothers, but he'd been pulled away by Grover and Annabeth.

“I’m off,” Grover said. “I just came to say...well, you know.”

Percy was happy for him. It wasn't every day a satyr got permission to go and look for Pan. That didn't mean it was easy to say goodbye, Grover was both Percy's best and oldest friend.

"Where will you go first?"

“Kind of a secret,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan...”

“We understand,” Annabeth said. “You got enough tin cans for the trip?”

“Yeah.”

“And you remembered your reed pipes?”

“Jeez, Annabeth,” he grumbled. “You’re like an old mama goat.”

But he didn’t really sound annoyed.
He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder.

“Well,” he said, “wish me luck.”

It was sad to see Grover go. Especially with the possibility that he might not come back. But Percy had hope. Grover's was capable, if anyone was going to find Pan, it would be him.

Sally walked around her kitchen nervously with a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. The place looked much better. She did a complete deep clean the second Gabe was out of the apartment. She'd already put a deposit on a new apartment, but there was no way she would leave the place in the state it once had been.

Sally couldn't help but glance at the folded letter on the counter. Percy had written it a few days after she sent her own. He didn’t know what he was doing yet, he didn't know if he would come back. But Sally would have everything in order just in case.

There was, of course, still one tiny issue.

Right on time, the wall in front of her shimmered.

Sally had never seen an Iris-message before. Chiron had mentioned them when they first talked about Percy being a demigod, but having one in front her was a strange experience. Her wall simmered like thousands of tiny water droplets were catching the light, and suddenly, there was a man right in front of her. Like someone had cut a hole through her wall and she was staring at someone in a different room.

"Ms Jackson. It is good to see that you are doing well."

"Thank you, Chiron. I can’t say I remember much. Is Percy okay?

"He's doing much better. He's brighter now that he has you back." Chiron paused slightly before continuing, "But that is not why you asked to talk to me."

Sally rested against her counter. There really was no good way to bring it up. She'd thought through all the possible reasons, but none made sense to her. "Why does my son think Dionysus is his father?"

Chiron sighed, "That would be because Dionysus claimed him."

"And why did he do that?"

"I truly do not know. I'm not even sure he knows why he did it. But Ms Jackson, this isn't necessarily a bad thing. Everyone believes that Percy is Dionysus's son."

"And this is good...because nobody knows he's forbidden."

"Precisely. It spared him from the God King's wrath during their meeting. It could still do so."

Sally bit her lip. She knew that. Deep down, at least. If she didn't, she would have told Percy when he first mentioned it.

She didn't like lying to her son, not more than she already had. And especially not about something so important to him.

But she didn't want her son to die. She didn't want him to be targeted.

"This isn't funny."

They didn’t stop laughing.

Percy wasn't laughing. Instead, he was stood covered head to toe in glitter.

And if he was being honest, he had no one but himself to blame. His brothers said as much.

They'd been canoe racing against some of the Demeter and Hermes kids. Percy and his brothers won, obviously, they were amazing at canoeing. And, obviously, it resulted in multiple people getting tipped out of their canoes along the way.

Percy might have been the main one tipping them over.

Glitter was the revenge plan.

Percy was covered in it.

His brothers too, but to a lesser extent.

It didn’t end there. It could never end there. Katie came to the realisation that the glitter used was not eco-friendly and immediately turned on the Hermes kids gathered. The Stoll's in particular.

Percy took the opportunity to escape, he was closely followed by Castor and Pollux.

"It's slightly funny." One of them said when they'd finally reached their cabin.

"It's not." Percy swung around to look straight at them. "Look at me."

He was a mess of blue, yellow, and pink glitter. It was horrendous. He looked like he belonged on top of a cupcake. Percy was far too occupied with his own inner musing he didn't notice anything until there was a flash.

Pollux stood there, camera in hand, and a large grin on his face.

"Don't."

He lifted up the small picture and flipped it so Percy could see it. It was even worse than he anticipated.

Castor plucked up the image. "I'm gonna keep this on my bedside table."

Fortunately, Castor was not the target. Percy leapt at Pollux, his arm reached out for the camera.

"Percy!"

They ended up tipping over the couch. The box of masks and cloaks ended up tipping over with them. Feathery costumes were strung across the floor as Percy fought against Pollux.

"Agh—Stop it!"

Percy ended up elbowed in the face, Pollux got kicked in the stomach. Finally, he got the camera. Percy immediately rolled away and snapped his own picture while he could.

"That's cheating!"

"How is it cheating! We fought fair and square. I won." Percy's gloating didn't last long before he was on the floor again.

The only thing that stopped them was the clicking and flashing. During their squabble, both Percy and Pollux had lost the camera.

They both looked up to see Castor hovering over them with a camera.

The last night of summer session came around all too quickly. The campers had one last meal together, and at the bonfire, the counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads.

Percy got his own leather necklace, and when he saw the design, he had to stop himself from blushing. The bead was pitch black with a green vine and tiny blue dots. Blueberries. At least it wasn't strawberries.

It was nice. Percy was happy. But a sense of unease had been following him ever since he visited the Oracle, and it hadn’t gone away yet.

A line of the prophecy was stuck in his head. You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.

He didn't know who it could be. The prophecy was supposed to be completed, but had it really?

And, of course, there was the other problem. He woke up to that one the next morning.

Percy had to decide if he was staying or leaving.

His brothers were year-rounders, they had been for a while. The letter Percy got had been written by his father. It was obvious because of the fact that his name was wrong.

Peter was still better than Paxton and Calvin.

The decision was more complicated than Percy would've liked it to be. He had his mom or his brothers. Nine months alone in a boring school or nine months or hero training in a place that he has friends. When it was put like that, it sounded rather simple.

But his mom...his mom was what he had to consider. Her life would be easier, she wouldn't have to look after a monster-attracting child. She wouldn't have to deal with all his messes.

He would miss her. He would miss her so much. Percy wondered how different it would be compared to staying at a boarding school. He didn’t get to see his mom often then.

The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection.

Percy couldn't stay inside. His brother wouldn't stop staring, and Percy couldn't stop thinking.

He found himself by the swordfighting arena and saw Luke whaling on battle dummies with a sword. It wasn't a sword Percy had ever seen before.

Finally, Luke saw him, and stopped mid-swing. “Percy.”

“Um, sorry,” Percy said, embarrassed. “I just—”

“It’s okay,” he said, lowering his sword. “Just doing some last-minute practice.”

“Those dummies won’t be bothering anybody anymore.”

Luke shrugged. “We build new ones every summer.”

There was something odd about Luke's sword. The blade was two different types of metal—one edge bronze, the other steel.

Luke noticed me looking at it. “Oh, this? New toy. This is Backbiter.”

“Backbiter?”

Luke turned the blade in the light so it glinted wickedly. “One side is celestial bronze. The other is tempered steel. Works on mortals and immortals both.”

“I didn’t know they could make weapons like that.” Percy didn't think anyone would want to. They weren’t supposed to hurt mortals.

“They probably can’t,” Luke agreed. “It’s one of a kind.”

He gave Percy a tiny smile, then slid the sword into its scabbard. “Listen, I was going to come looking for you. What do you say we go down to the woods one last time, look for something to fight?”

Percy hesitated. Really, he should be relieved that Luke was being friendly again. He'd seemed to be avoiding Percy ever since they got back from the quest. They were close to begin with, but Luke made his avoidance very obvious.

“You think it’s a good idea?” Percy asked. “I mean—”

“Aw, come on.” He rummaged in his gym bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. “Drinks are on me.”

Percy had learned his lesson.

Never follow someone into the middle of a forest just because they offered you candy. Or Coke, in Percy's case.

He couldn’t believe. Luke had tried to kill him. Actually tried to kill him.

You'll be dead in sixty seconds.

Luke had been working with Kronos the whole time. And because Percy ruined their plans, so they wanted him dead.

Even the Hellhound had been Luke.

Though Percy had to admit he didn't quite understand that one. He hadn't done anything at that point, he didn't even know about the stolen lighting bolt.

None of it made sense.

Now, Percy was stuck in the sick room of the Big House, and his brothers were routinely shoving a straw in his mouth so he'd drink the cookie flavored nectar.

Chiron and Annabeth entered shortly after Percy had woken up. He told them everything, all that he could remember.

“I can’t believe that Luke...” Annabeth’s voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad.“Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the Gods curse him... He was never the same after his quest.”

“This must be reported to Olympus,” Chiron murmured. “I will go at once.”

“Luke is out there right now,” Percy said. “I have to go after him.”

Castor pushed Percy back against the pillows. "Don't even think about it."

"The Gods will handle it." That's what Chiron said.

The Gods wouldn't handle it. Zeus wouldn't even talk about it. Wouldn't even acknowledge Kronos.

There was also the whole issue with Chiron’s prophecy. Percy didn't know what it was, he didn't even know if he had anything to do with it. But Kronos definitely did.

Percy found himself lying awake again. He just couldn't understand how everything went so wrong. Though Luke had been working for Kronos the whole time so it was never really right. He was worried about Annabeth. Learning that about her oldest friend couldn't have been easy no matter how well she seemed to take it. Maybe it was a good thing she went to live with her father.

On that note, Percy had well and truly missed the deadline for his decision. Chiron had given him an extension, but Percy already knew what he was doing. He would go home to his mom. Camp was great, but after everything, Percy didn't feel like sticking around.

Castor and Pollux were disappointed, but they understood. They were also asleep on the hospital bed next to Percy. He might have given them some attachment issues with his constant near death experiences.

Percy would miss them the most.

A lamp flickered, and then Percy saw his father sitting on one of the chairs.

"You clearly have a habit of causing chaos."

"I wonder who I get that from." Percy could handle his dad's behaviour any other day, but at that moment it wasn't something he could deal with.

Mr. D rolled his eyes, then mumbled something under his breath. The only world Percy caught was "father", it gave him a small sense of satisfaction.

His dad sat up in his seat and looked Percy straight in the eyes, "Tomorrow, you will go home to your mother. And over the next year, you will not do anything to compromise your own safety."

It sounded like a demand, Percy didn't like being told what to do, but there was a hint of something in Mr. D's voice. "Is this your way of telling me to stay safe?"

"This is my way of telling you that your little incident with the pit scorpion has caused trouble up on Olympus."

"Sorry," Percy mumbled. "Is it really that big of a deal?"

He didn’t want to cause trouble. He didn’t want anything to happen because of him.

"Yes, it's a big deal." His dad said it like it was obvious, "A half-blood tried to murder another half-blood. It's even worse when accounting for the fact that you returned that master bolt." His dad shuddered, "I think Father might actually like you. More than he likes other mortal children, at least."

"Is that a good thing?" Percy asked.

"For me, it is." His dad said off the chair and looked around the room. "Tomorrow, Peter Johnson. Don't cause any trouble."

Then he was gone.

Percy looked to his right when he heard a groan. Castor was half falling off the bed and his eyes were half open. "Was that Dad?"

"Yeah. It's nothing. Go back to sleep." Percy watched Castor throw his head back onto the pillow. The snoring restarted soon after.

Percy didn't know how he’d managed to drown it out for the last few hours.

The sun was shining high in the sky, and Percy couldn't hate it more. He hadn't gotten much sleep, and the bright light was only giving him a headache. He felt drowsier than he expected, his hand hurt, and his entire body felt like it was lagging. Chiron said it was a side effect of the poison, Percy could be feeling this bad for weeks.

Fortunately, his brothers were by his side. Literally. Castor and Pollux each had an arm locked with Percy's and were dragging him through the city towards his mom's new apartment.

"You guys don't have to do this." Percy groaned.

"Of course we do."

"Yeah, Dad gave us permission to take you home." Pollux dragged them both around a corner. "In case you had any, uh...health problems in the taxi."

"We don't know what kind of effect this poison might have."

Percy nodded slightly before regretting moving his head. If he was being honest to himself, he wanted his mom to meet his brothers. He wanted his brothers to meet his mom. Percy hadn't known Castor and Pollux for very long, but they were important to him. He'd never felt connected to anyone the way he'd felt connected to them. They accepted Percy without question, and they didn't lie or do it out of obligation.

Percy loved Grover, the satyr was his best friend. But they'd only become friends because it was Grover's job. Percy supposed that the same could be said about his brothers, but they'd never made it feel that way.

Someone shook Percy's shoulder, and he was suddenly standing in front of a door, he hadn't even realised they'd made it up the stairs. Percy took a deep breath and knocked. The door was open in seconds.

His mom looked so much better, like a giant weight had been lifted off rmher shoulders. He hugged her as tight as he could. Percy would never admit to anyone, but as he laid by that creek with poison seeping into his heart, he was afraid. Afraid he would never see his mom again.

"Oh, Percy."

"He—Hi Mom." Percy watched her gaze drift to the two boys standing behind him. "These are my brothers, Castor and Pollux."

His mom didn't let go as she invited them inside. The new place was nice, cleaner than the old apartment, it didn't reek of alcohol.

"Thank you, Miss Jackson." Castor said as she handed them all glasses of juice.

"Sally, please." His mom sat on the sofa, "Percy didn't stop talking about you when I last when saw him."

"Hey, that's not—"

Pollux raised his hand, "It's fine, Perce. We are amazing."

"I'm glad you weren't alone." His mom said. "You have any other friends?"

"Well, there's Grover and Annabeth. Uh, Katie, she's helped me a lot."

Castor jumped up. "Ooh, show her what we've taught you."

Percy spotted a plant pot on the windowsil. He walked over to grab it before stopping in front of his mom. He could feel the seeds inside, slowly sprouting. Percy urged them to grow faster. It was a flower of some sort. The stem broke through the dirt and grew taller until the tiny flower buds appeared.

He placed it on the coffee table in front of his mom, then slumped back into the sofa.

"That's amazing, Percy."

"He learnt from the best."

Castor and Pollux stayed past lunch, then they had to leave so they could make it back to Camp.

After they left, Percy curled up on the sofa and let himself be consumed by his mom's arms. She was so warm, she felt so much like home. Percy didn't understand how he could ever debate staying away.

"Your eyes are different." His mom said.

Percy frowned, "What do you mean?"

"They're violet almost." His mom inspected his face. "I only noticed it when you were making that plant grow."

"Huh, that's...weird."

His mom nodded and sighed deeply.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Percy asked.

"What—no. Why do you ask?"

"You've been tense since I showed up."

"Oh, honey." She squeazed tighter. "I've just been worried about you. It's nothing."

Percy spent the rest of his day decorating his room. His walls had been painted a deep green, and he had all new furniture. He'd brought some things pack with him from camp. The pictures he'd taken with Castor and Pollux and all his friends were pinned to a board. A purple and gold jester mask was placed on his wall. He placed a bunch of pinecones on his windowsil, Percy did not explain to his mom why he felt the need to bring a bag of them home with him.

His brothers had given Percy a bunch of clothes he never would have dreamed of wearing. They were bright and colorful and had all sorts of patterns. It's the exact kind of thing Mr. D would wear.

There were other things too, hair clips, shoes, a strange scented candle. Percy was pretty sure Castor and Pollux just dumped a bunch of random things in a bag.

Percy didn't mind. It made his bedroom look as chaotic as his bedroom at Camp.

"If you need anything else we can go shopping tomorrow."

"No, this is fine." Percy said. "It's perfect."

Chapter Text

Percy's new school was...interesting. It certainly wasn't as strict as Yancy, he could appreciate that. They got to sit on bean bags and didn't have grades.

School still wasn't his favorite place, and Meriwether College Prep certainly had its issues, but none of his teachers had attacked him yet, so he had high hopes.

"What's school like at Camp?" Percy asked as he stared at the Iris-message across from his bed. "Does camp even have a school?"

Castor was reclined across his own bed in Cabin Twelve, "Yeah. We're all rounded up and forced into the big house so Chiron can give lectures on things. History is his biggest subject. For the rest, he just gives us textbooks."

Percy could remember when Chiron taught at Yancy. Despite being a Latin teacher, he didn't actually teach much Latin. "What did you guys do last year?"

"You mean while Chiron was observing you?" Percy nodded. "Dad taught us."

Percy couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped him. He could imagine his father lounging in front of a room full of children and reciting tales of how wonderful his life had been when he wasn't banned from consuming alcohol.

"We put on so many plays." Castor sounded absolutely exasperated, and he loved plays. "Eventually, some Athena and Apollo kids took over."

"I'm sure they were better teachers."

Percy ate breakfast and dinner with his mom every day. She no longer worked excruciating hours, and he wasn't at a boarding school. It meant they had more time together. Time that wasn't darkened by Smelly Gabe's presence.

She started writing, she tried teaching him how to cook, which was a disaster in itself. The baking went much better. He listened to her stories, she listened to him complain about school.

There was a freedom there that they hadn't had in a very long time.

His brothers visited him a few times under the guise of a checkup, but Percy was pretty sure his dad was gaining a soft spot for him.

They'd do the things Percy suspected normalcy families would do. They played basketball, they went swimming, they stopped by the arcade.

On Christmas, his mom let them stay over. Castor and Pollux hadn't celebrated Christmas in a while, not with a family, at least. It wasn't like Dionysus would celebrate.

Percy was happier than he had been in a long time.

There were, of course, things that lingered in the back of mind. Memories that were brought up every time he looked at his hand. But if he kept himself busy enough, he could almost forget about everything. Everything that happened in the summer, all the monsters he saw clear as day, the small thoughts in his head that told him it wasn't over yet.

"Hey, Perce?"

"Hmm?"

"You know that new friend of yours is a Cyclops, right?"

The last day of school couldn't have come around quick enough. His day was all planned out. He'd go to school, go home, pack his bags and tomorrow his mom would take him to camp.

Unfortunately, Percy hadn't been able to sleep very well. He liked to think it was because he was excited and not because he was worried. And it definitely wasn't because of that weird dream about Grover.

There was nothing to be worried about. Not even that strange shadow he'd seen in his window when he woke up. It was probably just a pigeon or something.

Breakfast wasn't the miracle solution Percy had hoped it would be. The blue waffles were as delicious as ever, but he wasn't enjoying them as much as he should.

His mom clearly noticed. She stood by the sink washing dishes and kept glancing at him with a frown.

Finally, she spoke, “Percy, are you all right?”

“Yeah…fine.”

He wasn't very convincing, she probably wouldn't have believed him anyway. Sbe dried her hands and sat down across from him. “School, or…"

"I think Grover’s in trouble." Percy told her all about his dream.

His mom pursed her lips and averted her eyes. They didn’t talk about that part of his life very much, even when his brothers were around. Percy was pretty sure it made his mom nervous.

He could understand, she'd been almost killed by the Minotaur and spent weeks kidnapped by the Lord of the Dead, even if she didn't remember it, anyone would want to avoid the topic.

"I think it's best I ask Dad about it." Percy decided, "He's close with the satyrs. He probably knows something."

“I wouldn’t be too worried, dear,” she said. “Grover is a big satyr now. If there were a problem, I’m sure we would’ve heard from…from camp.…” Her shoulders tensed as she said the word camp.

“What is it?” Percy asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’ll tell you what. This afternoon we’ll celebrate the end of school. I’ll take you and Tyson to Rockefeller Center—to that skateboard shop you like.”

Tyson was also a bit of an avoided topic. Ever since Pollux had told him about Tyson being Cyclops, Percy's been keeping an eye out. But as far as he can tell, Tyson was just a big softie, which was why Percy hadn't told his mom anything.

But Percy wouldn't be able to see Tyson after school because he'd be busy packing. “I thought we were packing me up for camp tonight.”

She twisted her dishrag. “Ah, dear, about that…I got a message from Chiron last night.”

“What did he say?”

“He thinks…it might not be safe for you to come to camp just yet. We might have to postpone.”

“Postpone? Mom, how could it not be safe? I’m a half-blood! It’s like the only safe place on earth for me!”

“Usually, dear. But with the problems they’re having—”

“What problems?” Castor and Pollux hadn't mentioned anything in their last Iris-message. But if there's one thing Percy had learned in his life, it was that people had a habit of keeping secrets if they thought it would keep someone safe.

“Percy…I’m very, very sorry. I was hoping to talk to you about it this afternoon. I can’t explain it all now. I’m not even sure Chiron can. Everything happened so suddenly.”

Just like his mom was doing.

“Seven-thirty, dear. You should go. Tyson will be waiting.”

“But—”

“Percy, we’ll talk this afternoon. Go on to school.”

Percy gathered up his stuff and paused by the door. “Mom, this problem at camp. Does it…could it have anything to do with my dream about Grover?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “We’ll talk this afternoon, dear. I’ll explain…as much as I can.”

At least he now knew for certain that the energy prickling under his skin was anxiety. Something was wrong at Camp, something was wrong with his mom.

And as Percy glanced down the street he saw a dark shape in the morning sunlight—a human silhouette against the brick wall, a shadow that belonged to no one.

Then it rippled and vanished.