Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

But a woman is a changeling,  always shifting shape.

Just when you think you have it figured out, 

something new begins to take. 

What strange claws are these, scratching at my skin? 

I never knew my killer would be coming from within. 

Percy Jackson knew he was dreaming when he saw the six-year-old girl tending to a fire with her bare hands. He had this dream at least once a year, usually around Christmas. 

He would open his eyes, and be greeted with the sight of his old New York apartment. In the dream, it didn’t reek of his stepfather or his cigars, there weren’t any beer cans or car magazines around. It was tidy but messy in the way that signaled that a kid lived there. Christmas decorations hung on the walls, and led to one of those small store-bought reusable Christmas Trees that was adorned in almost entirely handmade ornaments. It was late at night, with a digital clock that read eleven fifty-nine PM. 

Oh yeah, and, the open bonfire in the middle of the room, with the six-year-old medieval-looking girl playing around in it. This was the ninth time he had met the girl in his dreams, and it was always like this. He still didn’t know her name and she didn’t seem privy to giving it up. For years he had assumed it was some sort of figment of his imagination, some bizarre dream thing. Then he had discovered the world of Greek Gods, and could only assume that this repeated visitation was some sort of divine intervention. He had some semblance of idea who it was, this time. 

“Hey again,” Percy greeted, sitting at the couch adjacent to the blaze. The girl stopped tending to the fire and regarded the fourteen-year-old boy with a familial look in her eyes. Which confused Percy, seeing as her eyes were basically windows into two blazing yellow infernos. No pupils, irises, nothing. Her light brown hair was barely visible under her brown cloak. 

“Perseus Jackson,” Fire-Girl stated, taking a seat Indian style on top of the flames, resting her chin on her upturned palms, elbows on her knees, “I’m so pleased to see you once more. How are things at Camp?”

Flashes of dwindling demigod numbers, Luke’s betrayal, Thalia’s return and Annabeth attending school instead of staying around full-time flashed through his head. How long had he been attending camp? Two and a half years? It really felt like a lot longer. He wondered if his foster parents had given up looking for him. 

“Camp is good,” he shrugged, “Chiron wants me to start instructing sword lessons this summer. I think he expects me and Thalia to try to kill each other at any minute.” 

“And are you?” Fire-Girl asked, tilting her head and giving him a patient smile, “I’d hate to see you try to hurt one another. You’re a lot alike, in many ways.” 

“I don’t know,” Percy shrugged, “Thalia’s cool. I guess it’s just…weird, having another Big Three kid around. It says a lot about what might happen when I turn sixteen. It’s not that far away, now.” 

“Undoubtedly, you’ll bear a great weight on your shoulders, regardless of what it may be,” she soothed, “but you are strong, Perseus. It’s unfortunate you must go through such things, especially so young.” 

Once again, he didn’t have much of a response. He wasn’t the kind to take compliments easy, not when he hasn’t really done anything all that impressive. His life had only just started to make sense before Kronos decided to go and wake up from the pit. Everything he’d done had been to find her and nothing else. He’d hoped that discovering the Greek World would help him find the answer, but if anything it just brought more questions. 

Sometimes though, at his lowest, he wondered if it was just because she couldn’t deal with him. 

The fire began to dim, and Fire-Girl frowned. She began to move the logs about, regardless of how hot they may be, holding the glowing charred fuel in her hands like it was nothing. She gave him a sad look. 

“I take it you’ve made no progress in finding your Mother?” 

Fire-Girl asked this question every year, and every year it was the same answer. 

 Sally Jackson had gone missing when Percy was five, around Christmas. There was no reason for it. One moment his mom was stepping out to go to work and the next, officers were arriving to investigate her disappearance. No suspects, no reason for it. His mom loved him, or so Percy thought. The cops didn’t like the state of the Apartment or Gabe, and Child Protective Services took him away not two weeks after his mom had disappeared. 

 For years, Percy had puzzled over it. He’d run away from his fair share of foster homes looking for her, gotten kicked out of a majority of his schools for fights with students who brought up his missing mom, and been to dozens of therapy appointments over the issue. 

 But when one of Hades’ Furies had shown up in his school and a Minotaur chased him and Grover over Half-Blood Hill, Percy began to suspect that his mother’s disappearance had something to do with the world of Greek Gods and Goddesses. He was the son of a Greek God, Poseidon. There must have been a million monsters who’d try to hurt him like that. 

Did Kronos have something to do with his mother disappearing? He hadn’t been constituted enough when Percy was five to have done anything like that, surely. Even if he did take her, where would he have put her? Surely he would’ve tried to bait Percy with that information a long time ago. 

Percy tried to recall what he knew about the disappearance. The police said it was as though she had just up and dropped off the face of the earth. No security camera footage of her existed, no store CRT captured her entering to buy Percy’s Christmas gift, no nothing. 

He of course could have just assumed like a normal person that Sally Jackson was a young woman walking around New York City at night. The multitude of things that happened to women in that city in the dead of night was deplorable. But there would’ve been some kind of evidence after nine years, right? A body, a bracelet, or something. The fact she just disappeared screamed “monster” to him. Besides, she definitely wasn’t dead.

 When Percy was elected to search for Zeus’ missing Master Bolt, he’d suspected Hades had something to do with it. Grover, Annabeth, and him had needed to enter the Underworld to discover where the missing weapon was. It brought him face to face with his uncle, Hades. The Lord of The Dead sat before him in his palace, pale, greasy, but radiating strength. He had been watching him with so much distaste as he held his hand out and offered Percy the world. 

“Your mother is not dead, little sea spawn. Hand me the Master Bolt and I will tell you where she is.” 

Percy still had nightmares of what he might have done if he’d accepted the deal. He almost took it. 

        So he searched the avenues of the Greek world. Percy sent Iris Messages to Sally Jackson, which were rejected. Rejected. He had no idea what it implied if Iris the Goddess wasn’t willing to look in on her. 

       He’d given Grover his last keepsake of his mother, one of her spare Sweet on America Candy Shop uniforms, to see if he might sniff her out while searching for Pan. He’d asked the nature spirits of New York if they’d ever met her. Nothing. This year was no different, only that his enemies continued to taunt him with this fact. Luke had promised they’d find her together, that he knew what it was like to lose one’s mother. 

“Awful. Still nothing,” Percy grumbled, “Demigod dreams show me all kinds of things, but never anything good. Like where she is. Sometimes I think she might actually be dead. Hades said she wasn’t but I know you can’t trust him. Maybe she went to Elysium and was reborn. Or maybe she was just…sick of me.”

As he muttered, the room darkened in tune with the flames, which barely reached over Fire-Girl’s knees now. Her overjoyed expression turned back to one of sadness and she futilely tried to stoke the flames again. This, too, was also a part of the dream. Every time Percy came back to this weird space in his head, the dream ended when the fire faded. 

“I know it must be hard, young Perseus…” Fire-Girl sighed, leaving her position on the pit of flames and joining Percy on the couch, “but you already know what I’m going to ask of you.” 

Yes. Every year, the same request. Don’t give up, Perseus Jackson. Home is out there, Perseus Jackson. Don’t let the fire die, Perseus Jackson. You’ll find her, one day. 

“Yeah, I do,” he mumbled.

“You’ll understand, one day. If this fire in your heart goes out- all you know will come to an end,” she promised, deadly serious. 

This was what always threw Percy off the most, even more so now that he knew he was some kind of prophecy child. He just knew that he didn’t want the fire to die. So this year, it was going to be different. He’d been thinking about it for some time. He was pretty sure who this girl was. 

“You’re Hestia, aren’t you? Goddess of Home?”

Fire-Girl gave him a hug. Percy didn’t really do hugs, not nowadays, but the dream always seemed to end when she gave him one. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world, either, not by a longshot. Something about him- a part of his soul he didn’t really understand- told him that this girl could be trusted. He threw a limp arm around the girl and patted her back. The fire surged. 

“Yes. I’m family, Perseus. And so is your mother. No matter what you find.”

Then he woke up to Annabeth shaking his shoulder. 

“Hey. We’re almost there,” Annabeth told him, reclining back in her seat. Percy blinked the sleep out of his eyes and tried to ignore that a Goddess had been visiting his dreams since he was five years old. 

They were on a bus in the middle of an empty, snow-covered highway in Maine. Percy sat behind Annabeth, in the back seats of the bus. Thalia sat in the seat across from him, polishing her spear. You’d think the bus driver would have a problem with that but the bus was empty, save for them and a mist-addled mortal bus driver. Percy didn’t know what he saw through the Mist but he wouldn’t say no to a free ride. 

He wondered if he should tell Annabeth about Hestia. Why would a former Olympian come to him and tell him such cryptic information for years? Did she not know what she was risking? And at the end…did she know where she was all this time? He shook his head, trying not to think about it and instead reviewing where he was and what he was doing. 

Their destination was Westover Hall, a military academy where Grover, Percy’s satyr best friend, was waiting for them. Normally, Grover would be out searching for Pan, god of the wild. Things were desperate now, it seemed if Searchers were being put on Demigod Hunting duty. Grover claimed he had found one and needed a team designed to save them from the school. 

 Despite what Grover seemed to think, he was a pretty damn good Searcher. If the monster was that intimidating, Percy knew they were in for a hell of a lot of trouble. He still had nightmares about the monsters at his school. Like Alecto, the literal punisher of damned souls. For now, though, the only dreams he had in mind were of Hestia.

        She was a home goddess, Percy knew that, and also his Aunt. She didn’t have a cabin at camp or any demigod children but Percy knew the braziers at camp for sacrifices were a part of her domain, as was the nightly bonfire. However, that was about where his knowledge ended. He leaned forward in his seat. 

“Hey, uh, Annabeth,” Percy asked her, stretching his groggy muscles, “What can you tell me about Hestia?” 

 Annabeth was basically a genius. Super smart, super pretty but don’t tell her Percy said that or he’d kill you and honestly his best friend. It was no contest really. She’d saved his ass more times than Percy had been kicked out of school at this point. If anyone was going to fill him in on the situation, it would be her. 

“Hestia?” she asked, turning her grey eyes to lock with his sea-green ones, “Why?” 

Oof. That sucked. 

 It was damn near impossible to lie to Annabeth, at best you could get her to drop the subject until a later date. He really didn’t want to drop that he’d been seeing a Goddess in his dream every Christmas for eight years in a row. For now, he just wanted answers. Better to try and lie than derail the topic. 

“It’s just…well, I went to Olympus and I never saw her. She doesn’t have a cabin either, even if she was one of the original children…” Percy lied, droning on. Annabeth wasn’t fooled that easily, of course, but she replied all the same. 

“Hestia was one of the original children of Kronos, yes. She was the first one, actually. They say she was in Kronos’ stomach for so long that she doesn’t have much of a physical form, appearing as some kind of a fiery ghost. She gave up her spot as an Olympian for Mister D, to stop any conflict. She watches over the hearth and home, family, that kind of thing,” Annabeth explained. 

She was probably one of the only people Percy could listen to drone on about ancient people and still hold his interest. Must come with being a daughter of Athena. 

  Hestia, a nice lady like her, giving up her spot as an Olympian for Dionysus? Percy was half sure Mister D didn’t even like being an Olympian half the time. Why would they throw out Family and Home for drinking and partyi…oooh. Makes sense. 

“If you ask me,” Thalia piped up, “She should’ve stayed on. Lord knows there should be more sensible Olympians up there.” 

 Through the blizzard, thunder rumbled. Thalia rolled her eyes. It wasn’t necessarily clear who she had pissed off, which is probably what kept them from getting vaporized by lightning or turned into birds right then and there. That would really suck to get killed over. 

“Seriously though, why the interest?” Annabeth pressed, turning to face him in her seat. 

 Percy shrugged. Annabeth got that face she made when she was thinking, so Percy knew that it was only a matter of time before she figured it out spot-on. Surprisingly, it was Thalia who piped up first. 

“Not that I wanna talk about it, Percy, but I get it. I thought about Hestia a lot when thinking about my Mom too,” she told him, setting her spear aside to look him dead in the eye, “It sucks. I don’t get it either.” 

 Thalia was really intimidating for a…fourteen, fifteen-year-old? She’d been stuck as a tree for some time, so no one really knew how she had aged in it. She wore her signature fit, a leather jacket, black jeans, some band Percy didn’t recognize on her tee shirt, and combat boots. A regular punky Daughter of Zeus.

 Percy tensed up. He didn’t like people bringing her up. Thalia was different though. From what he knew, she had an even worse go of it with her mom than he did. Maybe that was why she thought she could level with him. Despite the sentiment, Percy couldn’t really stop the heat in his gut. What did she know about him anyway? Nothing.

He managed a terse nod, slumping in his seat before spotting lights in the distance. Annabeth gave the two of them one worried glance before turning towards the lights. 

“…that’s it. Westover Hall. Let’s go see what Grover found, huh?” 

Westover Hall was a military academy akin to Dracula’s Castle. Black stone, medieval weapons all along the walls, pillars…lots of pillars. Ornate rugs throughout the hall, colored a comforting shade of blood red. On any other occasion, Percy was pretty sure they wouldn’t have made it ten feet in without getting stopped. Fortunately, the entire school seemed distracted by the Holiday dance in the gymnasium. 

 The dance itself was a mess of unrestrained hormonal teenage limbs flailing about, getting as up on each other as they could without getting thrown out of the dance hall. Black and red balloons littered the floor, the boys wrestling with one another in the kind-of-gay-but-not-gay-because-it’s-the-military sort of way. The girls moved like a pack of hyenas. Percy wondered if someone spiked the punch. 

“Now all that’s missing is good music,” Thalia tutted, scanning the room before spotting Grover.

         Grover greeted them warmly, excitedly, pointing out the two demigods to them. A brother and sister. Nico and Bianca di Angelo. Nico was a scrawny little kid, black hair and olive skin. Bianca, Percy couldn’t really place because she was hidden under a floppy green cap. They were students originally from Italy, it seemed. Grover himself had grown a bit and Percy wondered how he successfully hid his satyr hooves and horns. 

 Unfortunately, Grover also told them the VP of the school, a Frenchman named Doctor Thorn, was definitely a monster and was out to devour all six of them. Not good. The game plan was now to dance and blend in. Eventually make their way to the di Angelos and figure this mess out. That was how Percy found himself in his own little corner of the gym, awkwardly stumbling about with Annabeth in his arms. Baby, It’s Cold Outside was blasting, appropriate with the season. He better not be blushing- holy shit Annabeth really grew out her hair.

“How am I doing?” He asked, feeling like a complete goober. As far as first dances went, this was far from the worst, even if he kept stepping on her toes. Did she get taller than him? Oh gods. 

She laughed, slapping his arm a bit and prompting a nervous laugh out of him. 

“Like you haven’t set foot in a school in two years and have no idea what you’re doing,” she teased, “Have you thought about going back?” 

 Percy shook his head. He knew he couldn’t live at Camp his whole life but going back to mortal foster care was not in his cards. He’d spent way too much time in way too many different homes. Sure, he had met some nice kids, like that Latino prankster kid, but the thought of getting thrown out, cramped in a room with a half-dozen kids did not appeal to him in any way. It wasn’t worth school. 

“Foster Care isn’t worth school. I’ve thought about more boarding schools…but, I don’t know, Annabeth. Every time I got thrown out of school, or a home, I just…”

He could do nothing but think about how disappointed his mom would be in him. The expulsions only served as further evidence for the nagging, disgusting corner of his mind that told him his mom had left him because she knew how much of a failure he was. What kind of mother would actually want to have to deal with the constant re-enrollments, groveling before parents whose child he had beaten up in a fight, or his atrocious grades? He was glad he didn’t have to say any of this out loud, though. Annabeth seemed to catch his meaning immediately. Her face became somber. 

“You mentioned to me once that you had a dream about your mom around Christmas every year…” Annabeth mentioned gently, her hand gripping his a little tighter, “Are you thinking about her again?” 

“…yeah. It’s gotten worse recently. I have this feeling, I don’t know,” Percy tried to explain but still did not drop the Hestia tidbit. 

Annabeth sighed, shutting her eyes and muttering, “I…really shouldn’t have let you listen to the sirens.”

 Percy recalled the Sea of Monsters, just one summer ago and how he had nearly gotten the two of them killed trying to see the vision of his greatest desire. When sailing, their songs did something to one’s brain that just made them see paradise, everything they wanted in one vision so they could draw the sailors in and kill and eat them. He recalled being tied to the mast, the air eerily silent as Annabeth steered the ship. When the first note had his ears, he was gone. 

 If Annabeth hadn’t gagged his mouth, he may have commanded their ship right into the rocks. He almost rocked the whole boat trying to get to them before Annabeth dragged him over the side of the ship and muted him to their calls.          Percy didn’t like crying, especially not in front of people. It had been almost seven years since he had cried but for some reason that day, seeing that vision, he just broke down. Annabeth had to be there for him then and Percy had never really forgiven himself. He was supposed to be better than that. But instead, that day, he had learned exactly what his fatal flaw was. 

And it had essentially doomed them all. 

All demigods had a fatal flaw. It was inherent to their nature. An undeniable part of themselves that had more often than not caused the deaths of many great heroes both before and during Percy’s time. Annabeth was too prideful, willing to believe she was capable of accomplishing anything on her own. Hubris. She would go to any length on her own, stretch herself too thin, undoubtedly get herself killed for it. 

Percy’s was different, but much the same. He was too loyal. He would go to any length to save a friend, even if it meant the destruction of the world. On paper, this was a godsend. In theory, however, Percy knew that if it came down to razing Olympus or the survival of his friends and family… he wouldn’t make the right choice. And that had kept him up so many nights in Camp. He’d been awoken so many times by the neighboring Ares cabin, demanding that he keep it down from his night terrors. 

Annabeth, of course, always had a point. Maybe he was better off not knowing. But he refused to let her think it was her fault. 

“No. I mean…I asked you to do it. It’s not your fault. And…yeah, I had the dream again,” Percy sighed, “I don’t know why I haven’t gotten over it yet. I’m…supposed to be better than this. I can’t burden everyone with my mommy issues. I gave up everything in my vision for a chance to see her again. And I’m…y’know…” a Prophecy kid.  

Annabeth forced him to look her in the eyes then, deadly serious. 

“None of that. You have every right to look for her and want to know what happened. Sometimes I think you forget how young we are,” Annabeth chided, voice soft and kind of sad, “And that was all of your selfish desires being used against you, Percy. It wasn’t real.” 

“Loyalty…I just can’t mess this up, Annabeth.” Percy sighed, “I can’t.”

“You’re my best friend, Seaweed Brain. You’re going to do the right thing, I promise,” she whispered, “Especially since you’ve got me by your side. Don’t think there’s anything you can or should keep from me.” 

“But shouldn’t I be over it?” Percy asked, “Over her? I mean… I saw you all too, in my vision. Shouldn’t I just be happy with what I have?” 

“Maybe, Percy,” she told him seriously, “or maybe you should listen to what you want for once. Good or bad, she’s your mother. You can’t help wanting to know her.”

Percy would have replied, but they danced past Grover and Thalia, the latter of whom was being followed around by what looked like a handful of samey-looking head-shaven cadets who were all trying to get a dance with her. In her boots, she easily stood a couple of inches over each and every one of them. Her face took on that stormy look as she leered at the boys. 

“Fuck off,” Thalia snapped, “I like chicks.”

Annabeth laughed and Percy couldn’t help but let air out of his nose as they staggered away, defeated. He and Annabeth resumed their dance. 

“It’s cool having Thalia back, isn’t it?” Annabeth grinned, “I missed her.” 

 Percy liked Thalia, he really did. He couldn’t help but feel jealous of her, naturally. Maybe it was just that she was a Zeus kid and he was a Poseidon kid. Or maybe it was the fact that she and Annabeth were attending all-girls school and Annabeth wasn’t a year-round camper anymore. Percy missed her. He couldn’t blame Thalia for that. She had spent years as a tree, undying but not really alive either. It was probably a major adjustment and Thalia needed Annabeth by her side. Still, though, it turned his stomach something awful when Summer ended and Annabeth wasn’t at Camp anymore. 

“I bet,” Percy nodded, “I’m glad she’s back too. How’s school? You uh…get in touch with your dad at all?” 

  Annabeth rolled her eyes and Percy regretted asking immediately. Annabeth’s dad had always been a sore subject. Percy had always encouraged her to reach out, even if it was volatile. Understandably, he thought demigods should try to keep in touch with their mortal parents. Annabeth understood that and she had tried several times. 

Yet, somehow, there was always something. Her stepmother, her half-siblings, and maybe even her dad just not being there for her when she needed it. Percy could relate. Though he wondered if it would feel good to even have someone there for him at all. Not some foster parent trying to pawn him off, who didn’t understand him, but blood . Someone real. 

“School’s good. I really like it,” she said quickly, “But my dad…I don’t know. He wants me to come live with him in San Francisco.”

“Ah…and that’s bad, because…there’s a mountain there, right?” 

Annabeth smiled a bit but was still deathly serious, “It’s dangerous out there for demigods. Mount Othrys is there, and-“

She froze. Her head was positioned past Percy’s and he too turned around to spot what had her shook. On the floor near the snack stand was a floppy green hat. The di Angelos were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Doctor Thorn. 

“Fuck.” 

Despite having only ever played a handful of games of Capture The Flag with each other, Percy thought he and Thalia worked well together. It was the four of them, sweeping through the darkened halls, following Grover’s nose. They moved like a well-oiled machine, Annabeth drawing her knife, Grover clutching his reed pipes, Percy drawing Riptide from it’s capped pen and Thalia whipping out her spear from a can of mace. 

It immediately got awkward, however, when Percy and Thalia both attempted to fall into the lead position at the same time. Their shoulders nudged one another and they had the same split second head whip before relenting their positions and stepping back on either side of the hallway. With a confused cough on her lips, Thalia asked, 

“Oh. Uh…” Thalia shrugged, “Shouldn’t I take point? Y’know. Aegis.” 

 Thalia’s shield, a shield so horrible that it’d make most Navy SEALS run and cry to mommy. Aegis. It had some kind of Gorgon face on it and was a gift from Zeus. Much more helpful than Percy’s wristwatch shield- but. Something about letting Thalia take point didn’t sit right with him. He’d gone one two whole quests with Grover and Annabeth at his side. He could handle this. 

“Yeah, well,” Percy started, “Aegis might scare the kids, y’know? And I’ve been doing this longer…”

The air got tense. Yeah, maybe there was a difference between Capture the Flag and the real deal.

“I’ll take point,” Annabeth said, stepping forward, a little curt and leaving no room for an argument, “You two cover my flanks. Percy’s right, keep Aegis down until we catch up.”

The tenseness didn’t go away but they kept moving all the same. Thanks the gods for Annabeth.

“You are too late, demigods!” Doctor Thorn called to them from across the clearing, “My reinforcements shall be here any moment! I need only one of you prophecized children.” 

Thorn had the di Angelos up against a cliffside, staring off into nothing. In a manner that was way too creepy for Percy’s liking, he seemed to turn and acknowledge them instantly. Not good. Percy had never heard of a demigod throwing a kid off a cliff before but he wouldn’t put it past Thorn. 

Fortunately, Annabeth instinctively had her ballcap on her head with a quick order of “Distract him!” before she skirted around the edge of the trees, attempting to mask her footprints in the snow. Thorn didn’t seem to know she was there. Safe, for now. 

  Thorn didn’t look like he wanted to necessarily fight, at least not yet. Percy still had no idea what kind of monster he was. Greek Monsters weren’t french . That was weirder than Miss Dodds being southern. He expected Thorn to be stalling for time but he was damn certain that he wouldn’t hesitate to harm the di Angelos if he had to. 

“Let the kids go, Doc!” Thalia called, stepping forward and prompting Grover and Percy to do the same, “Sounds like you’d rather take me or Jackson!” 

 Thorn smirked. Percy didn’t like being offered as bait but anything to get the two away from him. Bianca looked horrified, clutching Nico’s hand tightly. Nico looked like he was trying to be brave but Percy could see him pressing against Bianca. Just had to keep distracting Thorn so Annabeth could get them to safety. As soon as some invisible lady tackled the two into the snow, Percy would be on it. 

“You are right, of course! Perhaps I could take both of you. There is a great purpose you must be privy to. Yet it only calls for one of you. Perhaps you should kill each other now and save me the trouble.” Thorn laughed. Percy swore he could see something in the distance. 

“No dice. What kind of purpose is there with monsters like you?” Percy piped in, hefting Riptide, his trusty sword, behind Tyson’s hand-crafted wristwatch shield. 

A mistake. Out of nowhere, there was a flash of movement behind Thorn. 

The snow exploded at the trio’s feet. Black, sharp, footlong spikes had pierced the ground at their feet, forcing the trio to stop in their tracks. They were scarily shiny, and the snow had melted around their point of impact, leaving only hissing. 

“Surely you will see reason now, yes Perseus J ackson?” Thorn pressed, “I assure you…my throws are very accurate. We wouldn’t want to hurt the di Angelos, would we?” 

Thalia placed her spear in one hand, staring Thorn down unwaveringly. 

“Think I’d rather just hurt you.”

Their banter worked. Thorn didn’t see the snow kicking up, the footprints in the snow approaching their position until it was too late. The di Angelos went sprawling into the snow. Thorn jumped away, confused at the display and sensing an attack. Immediately, Thalia and Percy dove into battle. 

“For Zeus!” Thalia cried, activating Aegis as she charged like a demon toward the vice principal. Percy wanted to yell something cool too, but it just kind of came out as “AAAH!”

Taking point, battle strategy, music taste…there were a lot of things that Thalia and Percy didn’t see eye to eye on. Somehow, though, they fought together like nectar and ambrosia. 

        Thorn was pushed back by Thalia’s charge, dismayed by the sight of Aegis. Thalia nearly ran him through, but a strange insect-like tail swiped from somewhere behind Thorn, knocking her spear aside. Percy was there, slashing upwards at Thorn and tearing his stupid human get-up. Thorn’s tail came back around, nearly decapitating Percy if he hadn’t parried it off of his shield. 

          The force sent Percy skidding back into the snow, still on his feet but giving Thorn too much breathing room for his liking. Thorn opened his mouth as if to scream but instead a guttural, Metro-Goldwyn Meyer-sounding roar came out of him. His suit shredded as his body morphed and expanded into a quadrupedal beast shape. 

        A white-furred lion, with a massive tail and Doctor Thorn’s face. As far as monsters go, it was probably one of the weirdest Percy had ever seen. He didn’t even have time to figure out what it was before Nico, somewhere further away thank the gods, called out “A manticore! Its special skill increases all unit’s accuracy by “ 

“Nico, shut up!” Bianca cried and even though Percy didn’t know her, he agreed. 

  Grover entered the fight then too, raising his pipes to his lips and blasting a tune Percy vaguely recognized as Bob Marley. The grass beneath the snow stretched into long vines and attempted to latch themselves onto Thorn. It worked, seeming to trap him in place for a moment. 

“I’m going in!” Percy called, locking onto Thorn’s face, ready to reduce him to monster dust, when a blinding flash of light overtook his vision. The wind picked up, blowing frosty snow across the cliffside while the sound of helicopter blades pierced his ear drums. The copter was shooting blinding white lights across the field, momentarily distracting Percy. 

 In the split second of lacking vision, Thorn struck. True to his word and whatever Nico had spouted, he did not miss. Two spikes slammed into his wristwatch shield, the range so close that instead of being protected, they dented and caved in, allowing the spikes to dig into his chest, shallow but still agonizing. The force was so great that Percy went sprawling back into the snow. 

Stupid. Why did he announce his plan? 

Thorn chuckled somewhere out of his peripheral vision. Exposed in the snow, Percy spotted the tail waving ominously, ready to pierce him if he made a move. The tip had to have been poisoned, because he could feel an acidic stinging in the wound, spreading through his chest. So stupid. What did he even have to prove? 

“Mister Castellan does not need two of your kind, Son of Poseidon,” Thorn laughed, “I won’t miss the chance to pull the thorn in Lord Kronos’ side.” 

That was when Percy was pretty sure he was going to die. The world seemed to slow down. He could hear Annabeth calling from off to the side, feel Grover’s innate and all-consuming fear. He definitely heard Thalia tearing her feet through the snow to try and get to him. Most of all though, he saw Thorn’s tail whip down. He felt the path of the spike, knowing that it was aimed dead-on for his throat. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he’d see his mom again. He shut his eyes. 

He expected to hear a wet squelching sound, maybe the screams of the damned or him gargling on his own blood. He didn’t expect to hear a quick, high-pitched sound like metal colliding with metal ringing out above his head and a small splash of snow hitting his face. Despite himself, he turned his head to look to what had impacted the snow. 

An arrow was embedded in the previously fired spike, seeming to have overpowered it and sent it harmlessly away. Which, frankly, was a shot so impressive it would have made every Apollo Child in the cabin unendingly furious. It was a million to one, almost unheard of. Then Percy saw the figure. 

“Who dares…” Thorn started, shifting his gaze to the open pathway they had all arrived on. 

There was a lone figure, hooded, holding a bow already knocked with another arrow. The rest of the details were fuzzy, Percy was in quite a bit of pain, but he could swear her hoodie glowed silver. It had to have been a friend, right? 

That was when the hunting horns sounded from all across the woods, and more hell seemed to break loose. Annabeth, somewhere off to the side, yelled something. Hunt, something. Thalia yelled in what could have been a battle cry or frustration. Maybe both. Thorn roared, and Percy glanced over to see what must have been dozens of arrows spring from all across his body, making him look less like a Manticore and more like a voodoo lion. 

Grover, in the meantime, was finally upon Percy and dragging him to his feet. The pain was almost unbearable but Percy opted to ditch the shield and fight one-handed. Percy exhaustedly shot his head towards where he last saw Annabeth and Thalia and saw that the two were standing before the di Angelo’s protectively. In the meantime, Thorn had begun to fight on the defensive. He swung his tail about when he saw the strange silver arrows, shredding them out of the air and roaring back in challenge. 

The figure in the hoodie was joined by dozens of other hooded-or-unhooded figures, all of whom were much shorter than the first. Percy also noticed that the unhooded ones were girls, really young ones too. The youngest looked about his age when he had first begun his foray into demigodhood. They weren’t sniping Percy and his friends, so he assumed he had an army at his back. He went to face Thorn yet again. 

“Direct interference, you vile Hunters!” Thorn snapped, “This is against Ancient Law!” 

It clicked. The Hunters. Two years at Camp and Percy had only ever heard rumors, passing comments from Chiron and Annabeth. The Hunters of Artemis, an immortal girls group that served the Goddess, Artemis. Apparently, they used the Cabin dedicated to Artemis whenever they were at camp, though Percy hadn’t encountered them before today. 

Honestly, he thought they were amazing. They moved like a unit, like something out of a movie, each paired up in the tree and each aim being completely precise. He was just glad that they were on their side and not The Titans. 

“Interfere this!” Percy snapped, clashing the flat of his blade against Thorn’s surprisingly solid tail and pressing a few slashes into his weakened hide. 

Thorn snarled, then leaped back into the air, firing more of those damned spikes at Percy. To his dismay, Percy noticed that the barrage of arrows suddenly wasn’t piercing Thorn’s hide anymore. Before Percy could be turned into the world’s stupidest pin-cushion, however, the hooded woman (up close Percy could definitely tell it was a woman) had caught up to them, and fired three arrows at once, once again intercepting the spikes and saving Percy’s life. Quickly, the shadowed figure regarded him but didn’t lock eyes with him. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. 

Something awful feeling began to bubble up within him but he wasn’t sure what. That voice . Something about that voice.

Then Thorn roared and Percy was brought back into the battle. 

“Uh, a little poisoned, but I’ll live,” Percy replied, voice strained. 

“Good,” she replied, the palpable relief in her voice digging a deeper pit in his stomach than he had anticipated. Grover coughed from somewhere next to Percy. 

“You’re…” Grover started, his expression unreadable but his eyes incredibly wide. 

“A Hunter of Artemis, yes,” the hunter said, cutting Grover in his tracks right then and there, “and we have a hunt to finish.” 

Percy’s heart was racing even faster than it had been before. Before he could even stop himself, for some reason, in all this panic, he blurted his burning question, words falling over his lips like Black Friday Shoppers in a mall, “Do I know you?” 

Why would he know a Hunter of Artemis? He had barely even heard of them before today. What did it matter? He couldn’t figure it out and yet his sense of dread rivaled that of his fear when he had encountered Tartarus. Not that his question was even worth asking it seemed. 

Percy received no answer. Instead, the mysterious woman waved him back before firing another shot at Thorn. Right, the Manticore. That was still a thing. In his half-ditch escape attempt, Thorn had gotten even closer to the twins, Thalia, and Annabeth. He had locked eyes with Thalia, who slammed the shaft of her spear against Aegis in challenge. She really was pretty badass. If anyone could solo the Manticore, Percy was pretty sure it was her. 

Thalia and Thorn squared off, Thalia’s confident thrusts with her spear supplemented by the symphony of whistling arrows hitting their marks against Thorn, though they affected him like paper cuts. Thorn swiped his tail, Thalia deflected, jabbing her spear only to find the surprisingly agile beast avoid the stab. 

“What are you waiting for?!” Thorn cried out, seemingly to no one in particular. 

That was when the Helicopter began to move, and all of Percy’s danger senses cried out at once. 

Several quick bursts of popping sounds cut over the noise of whipping winds and helicopter blades. Aegis sparked, loud clanging sounds cutting across the clearing. Even the snow at Percy’s feet exploded as the mortal helo seemed to just be firing actual bullets at them now. Percy, Grover, and the Hunter scattered. The Bulletstorm didn’t stop, however. 

Thalia seemed to be thrown completely off by the force of the bullets…no. No she had been hit , directly in the leg. Somehow she hadn’t screamed out in pain and was instead attempting to hold her ground against Thorn while deflecting bullets with Aegis. The view was so raw and so visceral that it filled Percy with as much dread as it did pure awe and hype. 

Mostly dread, however, because Thorn was about to do…well, something. 

“Your little friend Luke will be happy to see you again, my dear!” Thorn cackled, his hind legs preparing to leap towards Thalia. That was when Annabeth left her position as the defender of the di Angelo’s and threw herself onto Thorn’s back. 

“Get away from her!” she snarled, arm raised, knife in hand as she plunged it into Thorn’s back over and over again. Thorn rolled away from Thalia, roaring, bucking, and thrashing, but Annabeth stayed on. It was times like this that Percy really was lucky to know someone as cool as her. 

“You go Annabeth!” Percy laughed, preparing himself to join the fray himself before he noticed the other Hunters. 

The youngest, an Auburn-haired girl, and a dark-haired Persian Princess of some kind, wearing the same get-up as the hooded woman, had approached. In fact, all of these Hunters in the trees had approached, practically cornering the gang and Thorn against the cliffside. The dark-haired one, who was actually really pretty, glanced in Percy’s general direction. Then she shot the hooded Hunter a look bordering between disappointment and exasperation.

“We asked you to wait, my dear,” the Auburn-haired murmured, more focused on the display Annabeth was putting on more than anything else. The hooded woman shrugged. 

“I didn’t think we wanted anyone dead on this trip. This one still seems to have a knack for trouble,” Hoodie-Woman said with barely contained mirth. The bad feeling in his stomach returned in that instant. 

Then the nightmare began. 

Each and every girl, young or older, hooded or unhooded, withdrew an arrow from their quivers and took aim at Annabeth and Thorn. This included the Hooded Woman and the Princess. At first, the rational part of him said that they would wait for Annabeth to kill the Manticore and be done with it. The arrows were just a precaution, they had to be! They wouldn’t seriously risk- 

“Permission to kill, My Lady?” Princess asked, her voice very distinct and very odd sounding. 

That was when Percy took note of the twelve-year-old Auburn-haired girl. Her eyes were unlike any other human’s eyes. Like Hestia’s, they were merely windows. Windows into a pit of what looked like liquid moonlight. If there was any doubt on who the Princess was requesting permission from, it faded away in that very instant. 

The young girl was Artemis , a literal Goddess and she was about to give permission for these Hunters to kill Annabeth. 

“Granted,” the Goddess said, perhaps ensuring Annabeth’s demise. 

Instantly, dozens of arrows sprouted from Thorn’s exposed hide, forcing an incredibly weak roar out of him. Percy was pretty sure his scream was louder than his. His feet carried him forward, like he was being pulled to the carnage. He had to save Annabeth. She was going to get hurt and it was going to be his fault because he didn’t kill Thorn like he was supposed to, like a child of prophecy should be able to and he couldn’t let that-

Then Thorn jumped off the cliff. Annabeth screamed. Percy’s feet moved faster. 

“ANNABETH!” He cried, watching the beast disappear into the pitch black sea of nothingness below. He couldn’t hear anything, not the cries of Grover or Thalia, not the helicopter getting transformed into a mound of black ravens, not the footsteps following close behind him. He only heard her horrified scream, a scream that could very well have been the last memory of his best friend. 

He had been inches from leaping off the cliff when a voice, so familiar but almost forgotten burst through his stupor, tearing through Annabeth’s screams and forcing him to halt in his tracks as a firm hand took hold of his arm and cried “PERCY, STOP!”

His toes stuck over the side of the cliff. His entire body was rigid as he tried to process what he had just heard. It was like the world had just shattered around him in one go. His feeling of fear, confusion, and maybe excitement from earlier began to make sense. 

The hooded woman’s voice, a voice that oozed with quiet resolve, a hidden rebellious streak and not to mention love and care, moreso than anyone he had ever met in his life. A voice that had never been raised at him before that moment, had only ever given him patient guidance and affection even in the face of his various incidents. Percy was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open as he turned around to face the voice. 

The hooded woman had followed after him, close behind, and had taken hold of his arm to make sure he didn’t jump off and do something stupid. There was a cosmic sense of irony to this woman’s action that wasn’t lost on Percy. Not as he stared at her face, unchanged from the day she had disappeared. Not as he took in her chocolate curls, now cut short but curled on the very ends near the shoulders. Especially not as he bore witness to her eyes, her brilliant blues that seemed to change color in the light. 

Sally Jackson was the woman in the silver hoodie. 

Sally Jackson had stopped him from chasing after Annabeth. 

Sally Jackson had saved his life twice that night. 

His mother was a Hunter of Artemis. 

Chapter Text

All alone, even when I was a child

I've always known 

That there was something to be frightened of

“Mommy?”

It was late in the old apartment. Orange streetlights cut through the blinds, outlining the cigarette-smoke-stained walls and furniture. It, fortunately, gave Percy some semblance of direction, as it illuminated the various beer cans and items on the floor he had to step over. 

Percy had a nightmare. Nowadays he wouldn’t recall what it was but that night it woke him with a start. He had called out quietly into the dark, asking for his mom. Normally she’d always gotten up to come to his room when he’d had a bad dream but this night was different. So after a minute, he decided to brave the dark and find her. 

He worried for a minute that she hadn’t come to get him because she was mad at him. That day at kindergarten he’d gotten into a fight with another kid. Percy hardly remembered what his name was as he’d stuck to only calling him “Butthead” throughout the discourse. He was in first grade and Percy was in kindergarten. Butthead stood a whole head taller than Percy and was a lot bigger. 

He’d called him all sorts of weird names and threatened to eat him. No one believed Percy when he talked about the teeth or the claws. They’d pushed and shoved and eventually Butthead must have run away and stepped on his arts and crafts bag or something. The only thing that remained was golden glitter and angry teachers. 

His mom said she wasn’t mad or upset at him but Percy would never really forget the strange look that had crossed her face when he told her everything he’d seen. It was a very scared look, Percy thought. I hope I didn’t make her sad. Smelly Gabe had certainly been upset though. 

She wasn’t in her room when he went to check but Smelly Gabe was. Percy thought that was weird. Smelly Gabe always slept on the couch. Shutting the door, he’d turned away. That’s how he found himself in the walkway, staring at the exposed kitchen. 

Above the kitchen sink, there was a grimy window that remained grimy no matter what his mother did to clean it off. Percy had joked that Gabe was so smelly that it made the house impossible to clean but he didn’t remember if his mother had laughed. Normally you could barely see out into the back alley of their apartment through it but that night was odd. 

His mother was standing in front of the window, having actually opened it up, and was staring out at it. Frigid November wind blew in through the window, cooling the air and making goosebumps break out across his skin. How she wasn’t shivering, Percy didn’t really know. Behind her now, Percy asked tentatively once again, 

“Mommy…?”

She turned to face him and her face was masked by an air of shadow but her voice sounded wet and sad. 

“Percy…honey, what are you doing up?” she had asked him, taking him into her arms then and hoisting him up (even though he was too big for that!) He didn’t quite care though. He buried his face up against her neck. She still smelled like candy from her long shift that day at the shop. 

“Had a bad dream…” he told her sleepily, though she had already made it better. Sally’s hand found his back and rubbed gentle circles. He might have fallen asleep right then if he wasn’t still confused. 

“Why are you looking out the window, mommy?” he had asked her then. He looked out and saw nothing but the rooftop of the building next to them and the full moon in the sky. His mom said it was going to be a Super Moon that night and true enough it appeared massive in the sky, the bright white hue gone from it in turn of a much more clear pale yellow type of color. 

His mom didn’t answer him at first and when she did she sounded sad. 

“Just talking with an old friend, honey. C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” 

“Ok…” he agreed with a yawn as she marched him back towards his bedroom, “You’re not mad at me, are you…?” 

Once again her answer came slow and unsure. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, Percy.”

In the dark, Percy didn’t see the tears in Sally’s eyes. They never did talk about Percy’s fight. 

It was eerily silent when the revelation hit. 

At first, thoughtless, his heart had exploded at the sight of her. For years he had prayed, hoped, that one Christmas would herald her safe return from gods know where. He could see it now. Some big-bad monster had taken her away, but she’d found her way back! They’d hug, she’d apologize, and Percy would wrap himself in her arms again and forgive her. 

Because how couldn’t he? He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to eat blue food again, visit Montauk and hear stories about his dad. He wanted to know the things about her that he regretted not knowing when he was just a kid. What kind of music did she like to listen to? What was her childhood like? What had happened to her to drag her away for nearly a decade? 

This, however, was something else. This was his worst nightmare made flesh.

He’d begun to imagine it when he was thrown out of school the first time. Five years old, the new year after Sally had gone miss- had left, Percy had a vivid memory of a fight with another, bigger, much meaner kid. By the end of it, the other kid was too concussed to function and Percy had a split lip. He was waiting outside the principal's office for Smelly Gabe of all people to come and pick him up. 

“She fucking left because of this shit you pull, y’know.” He’d told him, smacking him around when they got home. And it hurt. A lot. Not long after, fortunately, Gabe was deemed an unsuitable guardian and Percy found himself off into an endless cycle of Foster Homes.

The statement never really went away, though. Sure, it was Smelly Gabe, who didn’t know his ass from his elbow. But it still hurt. Years of the dark, clawing, nagging thought at the back of his head that said “She didn’t want you. She left because she didn’t want you.” over and over again. It was all he could think about when the winter rolled around. 

And with that rolling around in his head, he swore that he would find the answer, he would know what happened to her. Locking eyes with her in that moment, with Thalia wounded, a goddess watching his every move and Annabeth missing , Percy knew. And somehow it made him feel far worse than any school expulsion. The joy dissipated as fast as it came on. 

Why did she look so happy to see him?

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said then, pausing a bit before the endearment as though it was foreign on her tongue. There was a strange smile on her face, “You’ve grown.”

Percy recalled a time he didn’t even reach Sally’s waist. Now she was a mere half a head taller. 

Percy had a lot of talents. Swordplay, reflexes, understanding of ancient Greek, the manipulation of all manner of liquids- but the talent that had manifested first, before any previous gift, had been his mouth. It was brilliant at digging him into the worst of situations and saying the wrong thing at any given time. This was one of those times. 

Percy ripped his arm out of Sally’s grip. Her face took on a sad look that only made him angrier. Grover, probably sensing his rage, shot a worried look at him. Even Artemis and that princess-looking hunter had started watching the interaction. 

The Hunters were Artemis’ personal handmaidens. To disrespect them, to hurt them, was to insult Artemis herself. He should have trod carefully, toed the line at most, or perhaps walked away. Instead, he let his mouth run off. 

“Get the fuck away from me.” 

This time, it was Percy who left his mother behind in the cold. It didn't make him feel any better. 

Annabeth was gone.

Mystical Greek forces were out to ruin Grover’s life again it seemed. They’d outdone themselves this time. First, he failed to bring Thalia to camp, safely. He’d been injured and useless while Thalia took on an entire army, getting herself (so he thought for years) killed in the process. All because he hadn’t been able to lead them all to the one place on earth they could be safe. 

Next was Luke. Grover had always feared being resented for failing Thalia but Luke never made him feel that way. He had every single reason to but he didn’t. Maybe it was because Luke felt the same way he did. 

He’d been different since his quest. Colder, more distant, resentful maybe. But he hid it behind a thick layer of good-natured humor or his unofficial/official leader of the Hermes/Athena/Apollo Capture The Flag alliance, and thus half the camp. 

Then came the Bolt. The betrayal, trying to summon Kronos, nearly killing Percy… why didn’t Grover see any of it coming sooner? 

That summer wasn’t all bad, though. Sure, he had nearly been killed by The Minotaur, all three Furies, Medusa, The US Police, some guy named Crusty, Cerberus, almost dragged into Tartarus and also almost killed by both The God of The Dead and the God of War… 

But he’d gotten Percy to safety. His first successful rescue, even if The Minotaur had nearly iced them. He could still remember Percy throwing himself at him, somehow sensing an impending lightning strike while they’d sprinted away from a hijacked car. How was Grover supposed to repay that? 

On a death march across America to give Zeus his toys back, apparently. Hence all those other beasts and terrifying experiences. Not only did Percy save his life a million times afterward but he leaped headfirst across the Sea of Monsters to stop him from getting married to the most famous of all cyclopes. 

Percy was amazing, period. The nicest guy Grover had ever known or probably will know. But Annabeth was gone.

Annabeth was gone and his Mother had abandoned him.

It was something Grover understood about Percy that no one else did. Their empathy bond granted Grover a look into Percy’s psyche that not a lot of people got to see willingly. Percy’s greatest fear; is his Mother leaving him of her own volition. No one joined the Hunters by force. It was always an oath willingly sworn.

In the span of two minutes, Percy’s world must have been turned upside down. He’d sensed the complete overload of shock in Percy’s head and didn’t mind letting him wander off to cool down. He probably needed it. Not to mention, concerning Annabeth…

Artemis had no idea where she was but had promised to find her. Her devotion to saving her had worried Grover a lot actually. So when some Hunters had returned from Westover Hall with the Overnight Bags that his friends had brought, he’d taken a look inside Annabeth’s bag. Super creepy, sure, but call it a hunch. A good one too.

Inside Annabeth’s bag was a pamphlet, advertising enlistment into the Hunters. And Grover knew that he could not tell Percy. 

“I should’ve fucking…” Thalia muttered from beside him, leg bandaged but would be fine after a few days of good’ol Nectar and Ambrosia. She was currently in the habit of tearing herself up over getting shot in the leg. 

“You did all you could, Thalia. We’ve never seen a monster use mortal soldiers before,” Grover tried to comfort, to no effect. 

“I should’ve just been stronger, I…gods fucking damn it …” her voice was wet. Grover opted to let it lie or get fried. 

“Um…” Nico di Angelo, sitting with the brooding duo quietly as he waited for his sister Bianca to come back, “The girl with the knife-“ 

“Annabeth,” Thalia snapped, making Nico jump, but the kid didn’t relent at all. 

“Right, uh, Annabeth! She seemed really badass. She saved us from Doctor Thorn! And stabbed him, like a lot!” He practically cheered, “I bet you she’ll be fine no matter where she ended up!” 

Thalia frowned. But she did nod. Grover found the sentiment they shared to ease the burden that had been placed on them, at least just a little. A comfortable silence settled over the group, maybe a little strained but still better than hearing Thalia mumble profanities every two seconds. Nico had started laying his weird trading card game out in the snow. Grover didn’t even have to ask before Nico was asking them questions. 

“So, so uh…you’re a Satyr?” Nico questioned, although he had already been told. Grover nodded at him, gesturing to his fake shoes which were set off to his right. 

Nico held up a card, and though it was dim, he could make out the image of the god, Pan, Lord of the Wild, on it. He was incredibly ripped, like an eight-pack Chris Hemsworth workout routine ripped, and was partying with what looked like a bunch of incredibly scantily clad wood nymphs. 

“So do you know this guy? He’s real?” Nico asked, unaware of what he was asking. Thalia gave Grover a side-eye. To not make the situation awkward, Grover forced a smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, he’s uh, he’s real. I’ve never met him but he’s definitely uh, real.” 

That seemed to satisfy Nico, who held up a picture of Zeus, somehow even more jacked and visceral looking than Pan was, riding a chariot and hoisting lightning bolts. He turned to Thalia, who despite her current funk, looked a little mortified at the depiction of her dad. 

“And that’s your dad, right? Does he really do eight thousand damage when paired with an EX Multiplier?” 

Thalia blanked. Without a word she pulled her spear back into her hands and began cleaning it off. Nico got the memo and turned back to Grover, who cringed inside. His next example had a figurine to go with it, a surprisingly lanky but still muscular dude with a trident and a mermaid tail, which made Grover laugh despite himself. 

“And that cool guy, Percy?” Nico asked, “this is his dad?” 

“Yes,” Grover answered, “Percy is Poseidon’s son.” 

Nico glanced off towards the other side of the camp. Percy was sitting on a tree stump near the ledge of the cliff, alone and brooding. Grover hoped he wouldn’t throw himself off and go swimming around looking for Annabeth. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Thalia asked, suddenly. 

Grover realized Thalia had been indisposed. She didn’t understand, at least not yet. 

“Does he know that lady? The cool one who uh, saved him?” Nico butted in. Grover supposed they were the same question, so he slowly explained. 

“Yeah. Percy’s mother is a Hunter, now,” he simplified, “Has been. Percy didn’t know about it. Apparently, she didn’t tell him.” 

The look that crossed Thalia’s face was absolutely murderous. Not to mention sad. Nico blinked, not really getting it at first. What Thalia spat next was unexpected, however.

“Sally?! Percy is…of fucking course he’s Sally’s kid. I’m so stupid.” Thalia growled. That was a shock.

“You know Sally?” Grover questioned, surprised. 

Grover knew Thalia had met the Hunters before he had found her and the others. It clicked into place before Thalia even explained. If Sally had joined when Percy was five, then it only made sense for not only Thalia to know Sally, but Annabeth and Luke as well. 

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t know she was his mom. I knew she had a kid, but like… I didn’t know her last name or his name,” Thalia rambled, before taking a breath and settling on one story, “Same as tonight, me, Luke, and Annabeth met her. This was before we met you. Sally…was different than the other hunters. Nicer, even to Luke. She reminded us a lot of what we all didn’t have.” 

Mothers, Grover imagined. Even now, the trio could see hunters gathered around the fire. Sally was there, talking, chatting, putting gentle touches on the arms of the young girls she had sworn an oath to. It was clear that she stood out, a twenty-five-year-old woman in a group of mostly young teens. 

“They tried to get me to join. But then Sally told me her story… I was so mad at her,” Thalia growled, “And I…oh, fuck.”

A look of realization passed her sharp features. Grover realized it at that exact moment- Thalia knew exactly what had happened to Percy’s mother and why. Between the two, they shared knowledge so damning and heartbreaking that they both realized that telling Percy was a lot more difficult than it seemed. 

“Should I…I mean, should I tell him?” Thalia questioned, palm pressed against her forehead, “He’s got like a right to know. Right?” 

It wasn’t a terrible idea. Percy might like to hear about it from someone who shared his sentiment on Mothers. Percy and Thalia often butted heads so a little shared perspective might have been nice for the two. But…

“I think he’ll need to hear it from his Mom,” Grover admitted, “It’s not really our business, Thals. But he’ll need a friend, for sure.” 

Nico, who had been oddly quiet for the past few minutes, suddenly and loudly asked- 

“Does that mean Bianca’s going to join too?!” His distressed shout carried, and Grover caught some of the hunters glancing his way. That included Sally, who looked away when Thalia shot her a death stare. 

Grover patted Nico’s arm. 

“H-Hey, uh, maybe not. I’m sure Artemis is extending the offer, though.” Grover tried to warn but was cut off when Zoë Nightshade emerged from Artemis’ tent and headed towards the cliffside.

Grover’s heart began to pound nervously in his chest as Zoë approached Percy. There was a brief exchange of words before Percy reluctantly rose and followed Zoë into the tent, shooting a look at Sally on his way in.

“Oh gods, I hope he doesn’t say something fucking stupid…” Thalia muttered, “I know I totally would if I were in his shoes.” 

The worry didn’t abide. He empathized with Percy, obviously, as his best friend. But the son of Poseidon had never really opened up much about his history before Foster Care. Now it seemed, however unintentionally, that Thalia knew what Percy’s home had been like for his mother and himself. 

The Hunt served as a sisterhood and Grover knew that any and all women present had to have experienced something awful before coming to be in Artemis’ care. It spelled horrific implications for Percy’s home life in that case. Of course, Grover’s mind went to the worst places instantly and he recalled Percy briefly telling him that he had no idea why his mother married his stepfather. That was all he really knew about Percy’s early life. Grover shifted his gaze to Thalia, who met his eyes.

“Thalia. Was it…bad?” Grover simplified. 

Thalia managed a terse nod and his heart sank. Grover wadded the Hunter's pamphlet up in a little ball and popped it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. 

Artemis’ Sacred Animal was a majestic deer but Percy thought a lioness was more apt, seeing as he felt like he crawled into a lion’s den. 

The spacious, almost ethereal silver tent contained a sacred silver doe, resting comfortably in Artemis’ lap like a housecat or a dog who didn’t know its own size. It also contained two out of five of the people/entities Percy probably hated most in the world behind Ares and Smelly Gabe. Bianca di Angelo was there too. 

Artemis sat in the middle of a square-shaped row of pillows and rugs, all made out of the skins and furs of creatures Artemis had presumably murdered in the past. Zoë Nightshade, who had led him to the tent, was seated at her right. Bianca was seated directly across from them and Percy found it reminiscent of a council meeting. 

“Perseus Jackson,” Artemis greeted, not warmly but not necessarily cold either, “Take a seat, please.” 

Seeing no other option, Percy took a seat at Bianca’s right, opposite the princess. Zoë quirked an eyebrow but Percy tried to keep his face neutral. Though, knowing him, it probably looked more like a pissed-off scowl.

“Bianca is going to tell us what she has experienced tonight. Afterward, I would like you to recount what you saw and heard, boy,” Artemis nodded. 

“…yeah, I can do that,” Percy agreed. In reality, he wanted to snap everyone in the tent’s necks and run off to go find Annabeth, but that might be considered rude. 

Bianca explained Thorn kidnapping them, telling them that something called The Great Stirring was underway and that Nico and Bianca would be a part of a great army to destroy the gods. A powerful monster would soon be in the possession of the Titans and would bring complete and total destruction to them all.

“I see,” Artemis said plainly, closing her eyes. 

“Typhon?” Percy suggested, “I mean…that’s the first thing that comes to mind for me.” 

“Thou would be aware if the mighty Typhon had arisen,” Zoë muttered, like speaking to Percy was very awkward for her, “but even I know not of what my lady speaks of.” 

“Boy,” Artemis addressed him, the constant use of boy was beginning to piss Percy off even more, “The Manticore, what did he say to you?” 

Percy recalled the events before the fight.

“He said he wanted me or Thalia. A big three child. Not both, just one, for some kind of big calling,” Percy explained, “But I don’t know what he was talking about. Do you maybe know? Uh, Lady Artemis?” 

For the first time in the discussion, her face took on a grim look. If a goddess was worried that usually meant nothing good. Thoughts of a monster bigger and meaner than Typhon swirled in his head. 

“I believe I may have an idea. Pray that I am wrong,” Artemis stated, “But I do. I will hunt this creature alone.”

Zoë turned to face Artemis with some semblance of what might have been incredulity. Artemis just seemed a little lost in her own head before she turned to Percy, her silver eyes clashing against his. Percy swore she could see right through him, see all of his anger and hate he had boiling around inside of him right now. Instead of acknowledging it, Artemis made a request. 

“Perseus Jackson. I request that you and your friends escort my Hunters to Camp Half-Blood for the time being,” she ordered, didn’t request, ordered. Gods didn’t do requests, “until I have returned from slaying this beast.”

Zoë looked like she was going to puke and Percy hated how much he related to her at that moment. The last thing he wanted was to see his mo- Sally Jackson again, let alone let her walk around in his home. The idea of seeing those blue eyes while he was trying to eat, and train… gross. 

Artemis, of course, caught onto the duo’s shared sentiment and raised a small but certainly deadly hand to dissuade the two’s protests. 

“Zoë, I’m sure Dionysus will forgive the little spat the last time we attended. I hear all campers recovered with only minor permanent injuries or physical therapy,” Artemis defended her claim, dissuading Zoë immediately before she acknowledged Percy again.

“And boy…” she paused, as if she was trying to figure out the right words, “…we will discuss your situation in a moment. Before that, however, Bianca.” 

Percy’s hands were clenched in fists. His leg bounced nervously, a tick he had never been able to shake. He glanced at Bianca on the side, his gut warning him of what Artemis was about to discuss. 

“Yes, ma’am?” Bianca asked, perking up as she had somewhat zoned out of the conversation, “Um, your question from earlier?” 

“Yes, my dear,” the twelve-year-old goddess affirmed, “We have space amongst our ranks for you if that is what you wish.” 

“‘Tis a wise decision, Bianca di Angelo. Thou should best accept-“ 

“Time the fuck out.” 

Percy had tensed up, his heart had begun pounding and his hands balled even further in on themselves. After everything, his mother and Annabeth, they’d just come in and take Bianca out from under their nose? No fucking way. 

Artemis merely quirked an eyebrow. Bianca flinched, while Zoë’s expression became positively murderous. 

“Watch. Thy. Tone,” Zoë hissed, “‘tis not your place to act out.” 

“You can’t just…I-“ Percy’s tongue felt like a knot, he couldn’t force the words he wanted to say out. Was he sweating? Why were his eyes stinging? 

“Relax, Zoë,” Artemis relented, “He is…distraught, because of this situation. Perhaps it was foolish of me to ask for her answer at this time.” 

No fucking shit it was a bad time to ask-

“No.” 

It was Bianca who cut them all off. Percy turned to face her head on. She was flushed but incredibly determined. Percy felt his heart rise out of the tartarus-deep-pit that was his stomach. “No ” like “ No I refuse to join.” or maybe “ No, Annabeth probably died for me.” Both of these theories were shot down in an instant. 

“I want to join. I really do.”

Artemis nodded. Zoë looked pleased but still looked at Percy like he was a dead fucking rat or something. Percy tried to work the knot out of his tongue and finally speak for once why the fuck was it so hard right now holy shit- 

“Bianca,” Percy finally muttered, “Annabeth…she, might have died to bring you to camp.” 

“She didn’t,” Bianca argued, which was incredibly weird to Percy but to each their own, “She’s…I don’t know how but I know she’s alive.”

“Bianca is correct, of course,” Artemis interjected, making Percy’s head shoot over to meet her gaze. 

Of course, Annabeth wasn’t dead. He wasn’t trying to say she was. But she was definitely definitely in danger and put herself there to save all of them. You couldn’t slice it any way other than spitting in Annabeth’s face. 

“There are…forces at work, boy,” Artemis simplified, “she was taken, yes, but she is not dead. I will find her, should she be able to be found.” 

That made everything a lot better. Percy knew all too well now what happened when Artemis got her hands on people close to him. Percy huffed and ran a hand through his hair, shifting around on the now very-uncomfortable furs. He wanted out of this gods-damned tent. Everyone seemed to be waiting for him to say what he had to say. 

The truth was, yes, he didn’t want Bianca to join. Camp was great. Camp was home for so many of them and he wanted it to be a place for them too. Yes, Annabeth had sacrificed herself to get the di Angelo’s safe, sure, that pissed him off. But above it all, he didn’t want anything like his situation to happen to Nico. 

At camp, left behind, crammed into Hermes cabin if you’re unlucky enough to not get claimed, your only family is a god you barely know and your only blood running to go prance and dance in the woods with a team of immortal groupies in “Virginity Rocks” special glowing Silver hoodies. In a thousand years, they’d have forgotten all about you, while you get to die before twenty, alone. 

“What about Nico?” Percy managed to force out, “It’s…Bianca, you’ll devastate him. I know what it’s like. It’s…you’d really just abandon him like that?”

Bianca got a hard look in her eyes before she met Percy’s stare. There was a ghost of someone Percy had met before in her eyes, then. Something ancient and powerful and for a moment Percy couldn’t help but feel dread at what might happen when Bianca got claimed. 

“Look, I’m sorry about your girlfriend, Percy. But I need to do this.”

And he sat there, like a fucking idiot while Bianca swore herself over to Artemis. He even mocked the oath in his head like a five-year-old. He told himself to get a grip. Yes, the situation was a lot like how it was with his mom. But Bianca wasn’t his sister. Why should he care? 

Because you’re the one who’s going to have to console Nico.  

Zoë and Bianca embraced. Artemis’ smile was proud and motherly. Percy wanted to throw himself out to the wolves and die right there. Out of everything he was feeling right now, the most was the acknowledgment of just how much of a fucking failure he was. As a son, as a hero, and as a best friend. 

He didn’t even know why he was still sitting there. But after the apparent initiation, Artemis sent Zoë and Bianca out of the tent. Bianca shot him one last apologetic look, while Zoë assessed him with a stare that Percy couldn’t decipher. A moment later, Percy was alone with a man-hating goddess who had more than enough reason to end him. 

Why didn’t she kill him? He’d been in pettier fights before. He’d interrupted an initiation, mocked her oath, disrespected her hunters, and above all was a boy. Recalling a handful of myths about Artemis, none of them were pretty when men were involved. There was a lot of death, animal transformation and the usual stock of tragedy. Yet, here she was, her undivided attention on him. The air seemed to shift and Percy suddenly realized exactly what that look in her silver eyes was. 

He saw that look in the eyes of the police officers who came to his apartment to tell him his mother was missing. In schoolteachers who called his name and the realization that he was a special student set in. He saw it in the foster parents he used to bounce around in, on the first day he’d arrived and on the day he got shuffled out. Sadness, not given from the common ground of understanding. A one-sided kind of sadness, thrown down from an ivory tower to sit at Percy’s feet like a sack of drowned kittens. A meaningless sentiment. 

Pity.

Percy despised pity. He didn’t need anyone’s sympathy, especially not from the reason was in this mess in the first place. He’d gotten careless, shown too much of his immature self in front of an Olympian. Was that why she was giving him that look? Was he just a childish little demigod who looked oh-so pathetic to the noble Artemis?

“You hate me,” she said simply, as though it was a matter of fact. 

Shutting her eyes, she sighed, for the first time that discussion. The same sigh of a million exasperated teachers Percy had gone through. The kind of sigh that said “I told you so.” When her eyes reopened, she folded her hands in her lap. 

What was he supposed to say to that? “Yes, I want to throw you and your followers into Tartarus with my own hands”? Deny it and sing the Hunter’s praises? Percy was the son of a Big Three demigod, a trouble magnet who couldn’t perform even a modicum of intelligently in school. He was everything a mom didn’t want in a kid so it really should’ve been a no-brainer he’d find her here. He decided to just say nothing. 

Percy fidgeted, then hissed as the sharp pain from his earlier manticore-spike encounter reared up again. He’d been ignoring it successfully this entire time but was beginning to regret not letting Grover look at it sooner. He placed a hand over his shredded hoodie, trying to ease the now dull throbbing and stinging. Artemis tilted her head. 

“You did not tend to your wound?” She asked him, surprise lilting in her tone. Percy shrugged, then regretted it immediately afterward as the wound acted up again. 

Artemis shook her head and rose, the deer in her lap stepping away as though sensing her intent. She crossed the tent with all the grace of an Olympian in a startlingly young form, before stopping in front of Percy. 

“May I?” She asked, gesturing to his wound. 

His pride wanted him to say no, but it also really fucking hurt, so he wanted to say yes. Artemis tsked at him like she knew what he thinking. 

“…I believe this is the least of what I owe you, Perseus Jackson,” she relented, her voice sadder than Percy expected. Maybe that’s what shocked him into accepting. 

Artemis put a hand on his chest, surprisingly softer than Percy expected. The fire in the burning brazier burned taller, Artemis’ silver moonlit hue grew brighter, and the pain and poison in Percy’s wound began to ebb away slowly. After a moment, it was nothing but a memory. Even his jacket had repaired itself. 

“Uh…thanks,” Percy murmured, “That really hurt.” 

Artemis stepped back to her side of the pow-wow square and nodded. There was a silence that fell over the two of them before Artemis seemed to find the words she wanted to say. Percy knew before she said anything what it was going to be about. 

“Your business is between you and Sally,” she admitted, “I’ve no place in it. If you wish to know the full story of how she has come to be in my care, you must ask her directly. But I have a request.”

Percy couldn’t keep the scowl off of his face but he nodded. He really had no love for Artemis or any of her hunters. What the hell could she possibly ask of him?

“What do you want?” Percy forced out. 

Artemis shifted, surprisingly a little nervous. What sort of question could make a goddess nervous? Then she seemed to steel herself before she made her request.

“I’d like to know… How long?”

It was a simple question but it somehow made Percy more scared than he had ever been. It was like he understood exactly what she meant but he prayed ao desperately in that moment to be wrong. His palms were sticky, his heart was speeding up. Please don’t let her ask that anything but that, she isn’t supposed to know-  

“How long did you remain in that man’s care?” She reiterated.

Everything was quiet. There was a ringing in Percy’s ears that slowly became drowned out by the blood rushing through it. After a moment, he realized that his palms hurt. Lazily, he glanced down and saw lazy streams of blood pouring down onto his soaked jeans from where his fingernails had pierced the skin. He shifted his gaze back upwards. 

She knew. None of the Olympians or anyone from Camp Half-Blood was supposed to know about the days after Sally left but she knew. Had known. Had known for years. About Smelly Gabe and what he did behind closed doors. About what he put his mother through. About the hitting-  

“Why do you want to know? You’re the ones who stuck me with him to start with,” he practically growled. Artemis nodded. 

“Indeed. ‘Twas part of the agreement. I could do much for Sally that I could not do for you,” she explained, as though any of this was rational. 

“You don’t get to know,” Percy snapped, “I don’t want your pity. If you both knew why did you..?” 

He shook his head. Raised his hands. Stood as fast as he could, still swaying his head like it would ward off reality. Regardless of etiquette or decorum, he honestly couldn’t give a shit, he left the tent. He’d just go back to his stump and wait for whatever bullshit the night would bring next. 

Aside from Thalia nearly torching the entire camp, the ride had been pretty uneventful. 

Apollo, who Percy hadn’t met before, had Thalia at the wheel. His Chariot, apparently the literal Sun, manifested as one of those old-fashioned hippie VW vans. Grover, himself, and an equally upset Nico had been in the very front of the bus while the Hunters piled into the back. In the rearview mirror, Percy could glimpse Sally shooting him looks that stung. Why did she look so sad?

There were probably a million things to tell Chiron about but Percy just wanted to march back into his cabin and rot for a little while. Stepping out and glancing around the grounds of Camp Half-Blood, Percy briefly appreciated the snow that blanketed the ground and cabins. Not to mention the jars of red and green fire that hung from trees void of leaves, and the way the hearth in the middle of the row of cabins continued to blaze brightly. 

He remembered his first Christmas at camp, a handful of months after he’d returned Zeus’ bolt. It was just him, Clarisse la Rue, Silena Beaureguard, Charles Beckendorf, The Stolls, Katie Gardiner, and a handful of the unclaimed Hermes’ kids. Chris Rodriguez had been there then, and so was Ethan Nakamura. 

Selena and Katie didn’t hang around one another that much but when the Winter Solstice and Christmas rolled into one another, the two came together to pull off most of the decorating. Chiron had told him he used to just use old-fashioned string-up Christmas lights he’d purchased over fifty years ago- until Charles, at Selena’s suggestion, decided to make the little flickering jars of fire wisps. As the daughter of the beauty goddess and the forge god, they sure knew how to put on a spectacle. 

Katie, in the meantime, was the daughter of Demeter. Plants just tended to sort of do what she asked them to do. The Strawberry Fields had long been overseen by Chiron and the Satyrs but along the way the Demeter kids would come together to pitch in. Profits had increased dramatically since the woodland creatures and the Agriculture Goddess-kids had put their heads and horns together. 

In her own words, Katie went as all-out as she could around Christmas because of her mom’s seasonal depression. It was her own little rebellion, she called it. “If my mom’s just gonna sit around lettin’ everything get all cold and shitty, I oughta just make the most of it, right?” 

That had always amounted in excessively tall pine trees for every cabin- though the Ares kids had always cut theirs down. Each one ripe with cones, heavily scented of pine, with their own jar-string lights and simple ball-shaped ornaments, appropriately colored for each cabin. Percy turned to check the tree outside of his cabin, spotting the light blue shining decorations that littered the eleven-foot pine. 

He caught sight of his cabin and might’ve taken off running straight for it if Thalia hadn’t caught his arm. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” she hissed at him, quietly, like she was incognito. 

Percy dragged his arm free a little more forcefully than intended, throwing Thalia off balance, “My Cabin. I haven’t slept since the bus.”

In a competition between Thalia’s aegis and Thalia’s face when he told her that, Thalia’s face would’ve made the aegis cry for mommy. Percy’s resolve wilted under her gaze. 

“Bullshit. I get that you’re pissed off, Percy, I do,” she growled at first before seeming to come down from her brief spot of anger, in a much calmer tone saying, “but we need Annabeth back and we need her now. Do you honestly trust Artemis anywhere near her?” 

Percy hadn’t even considered that. His jaw locked in his face and he gave a stiff nod of resolution, turning away from his cabin and starting towards The Big House. Thalia sighed, and took up a walk beside him, waving for Nico to follow. Even in his prepubescantly-pissed-off state, Nico was in awe at the surroundings, at least awed enough to not ask any stupid questions. 

The snow crunched under their feet as they walked silently. Percy briefly caught the hunters piling into Cabin 11, the usually abandoned honorary cabin to Artemis. It was incredibly odd to Percy to see the lights come on in the windows after two years of living next to the always silent monument to the moon goddess. The uncomfortable feeling turned to the same pissed-off rage that had been gripping his heart for the past eight hours when he realized that Sally Jackson would be sleeping in there, walking around his home, and eating in the main hall.

He couldn’t count on hand how many times he’d imagined finding her and walking her through the grounds. Keep her away from the Ares cabin, and Percy was sure she would have found the camp as wonderful as he did. He’d show her the rock wall, the colosseum where he did sword training, walk her down to the lake and show off his command of the water. It baffled and upset him deep down that Sally had probably already knew all about Camp. 

Where was she when the mythological world was screaming for the head of the son of Poseidon? When he was framed at eleven years old for stealing from a god he didn’t even think existed. The Hunters had to have been out in force looking for the bolt. Did she suspect him like everyone else? The thought made him kick snow. 

“Stop it,” Thalia demanded, “just…don’t look at them. At least wait until we’re inside.” 

But he couldn’t stop himself. He was never good at that. 

“They knew, Thalia,” he said, voice breaking in spite of himself, “she  knew exactly what she was doing, and she…” 

Thalia didn’t say anything then but she instead opted to put an arm on his shoulder. Percy wondered if she thought he was going to run off again. Nico also wisely opted to stay quiet. In that instance, Percy appreciated Thalia’s support. He wouldn’t call them the closest of friends, more friends of Annabeth than anything. That wasn’t to say he didn’t care about Thalia but it was more than he expected. 

Now wasn’t the time to be sad about Sally Jackson. Now was the time to find out how to save Annabeth. She wouldn’t want him to shut down like this either. With resignation, the trio entered the Big House to find out what they were going to do. 

Thalia Grace was up shit creek without a paddle.

It was like the universe decided to make up for the handful of years she’d been asleep in a tree with all the problems she’d missed out on. Hey, remember Jason? Well now Luke’s gone too! And hey, remember Annabeth? Gone! Guess what else? The Son of Poseidon who you’re pretty sure fucking hates you? You knew where his Mom was the whole time and you didn’t say anything! You told him to stop thinking about it not twelve hours ago! Have fun cleaning that up! 

Tonight was one terrible dream after another. Thinking about that damn shot she took to her leg, The Hunters coming in to save them, only for the only little sister she’d ever known to get dragged away like that…all because she couldn’t block a single bullet. 

It wouldn’t be the first time you failed anyone though, right? 

She had to cool it. If she had any intuition left in her exhausted, adrenaline-addled brain, she’d know that they were about to chat with Mister D. Which meant no matter what, it wasn’t gonna be pretty. Best case scenario was, either her or Percy were going to be spending some time as strawberries, plants, or maybe clinically insane. Worst case, a dolphin. 

She took another look at Percy. He hadn’t said a word about what Artemis talked to him about in her tent but he hadn’t taken off his pissed off face in hours so it must have been bad. She wanted to ask him flat out but something about that idea sounded like a recipe for disaster. It was incredibly disturbing to see the usually happy, quick-witted seaweed brain like this. 

She was pretty sure Percy didn’t like her. Not that she had done anything to him, or at least she didn’t remember doing anything to him. He hardly really interacted with her when Annabeth or Grover wasn’t around. She could understand that, she supposed. They were Big Three kids and apparently her dad had tried to hunt him down before he even knew he was a demigod. She probably wouldn’t necessarily leap at the chance to befriend someone like that either. Even so, she related to him a lot more than either of them probably wanted to admit. 

Percy kept his past close to his chest. She hadn’t known much beyond what Annabeth had told her and even she didn’t have the full picture. “His mom went missing and he’s been bounced around foster homes and schools all his life” was the clearest she got. She was the worst person in the world to possibly carry any of this baggage and yet here she was acting the bellhop. She had every answer Percy had probably asked himself about her disappearance, where she had gone, when she had gone, why she had done so. 

It had been eating at her for hours but like hell was she going to tell him. Not yet at least. Was that shitty of her? It certainly didn’t seem like the right time, neither was she the person he probably wanted to hear it from. She opted to just bite her lip and keep it under wraps. Chiron might know what to do. 

“Percy,” she said as they stepped to the door, “Just try to keep a cool head. And Nico…just, careful with the questions for a minute.” 

“Yes ma’am,” Nico agreed, eyes perpetually wide as he kept sneaking glances at the camp, actively becoming illuminated in the dawn. Percy said nothing. 

“And cut it with the ma’am shit,” she grumbled, 

“Yes ma’am. I mean-”

Thalia brushed some stray snowflakes from her hair as they trodded into the parlor room of the Big House. Chiron was there, sitting at a table with an untouched cup of coffee. Mister D seemed to opt for a leopard print tracksuit that night which was every bit as disturbing as it sounded. He had assembled a pyramid of Diet Coke cans, clearly not upset in any way about the dangerous rescue mission the campers were on. 

Chiron was dressed in an ugly christmas sweater he’d likely owned since Christmas Sweaters were invented. His long brown hair was kept down and her beard was in need of trimming. He looked like he hadn’t slept very well. She was honestly elated to see him again but there was the issue of Annabeth and the Hunters. 

“Percy, Thalia,” Chiron greeted, relieved and elated, “and who is this?” 

Nico seemed a tad shy, or mayne he thought he was on trial. He got quiet for a second before Thalia nudged him to introduce himself. 

“I-I’m Nico. Nico di Angelo. I’m a demigod,” he said, fumbling. Chiron chuckled. 

“Yes, I’d imagine you are.”

Chiron searched Percy and Thalia’s faces and must have found nothing but two of the most pissed off demigods in his immortal history. He seized up for a minute before rolling his chair around to face them fully. Somehow Thalia felt even more guilty than she already did. 

“I can see that there is much to be discussed. Percy, why don’t you…take Mister di Angelo into the next room and show him our initiation video? I’ll come speak to you…at a later time,” Chiron appeased, glancing for a fraction of a second at Mister D, who didn’t even seem to notice them walk in. 

“You mean when I leave, right, dear Chiron?” Dionysus asked, without a hint of mirth. Chiron’s smile was wry. 

“I would hate to see anyone wind up in our next batch of Strawberries, my lord,” Chiron settled for. Dionysus rolled his eyes. 

“Go on then, Peter. Show Ned the video,” Dionysus dismissed. 

Percy was one of those genius kinds of dumbasses when it came to fighting or strategy. Thalia didn’t think she had ever seen him more uncomfortable or out of his element in that moment. She realized then that he was scared to relay the report. For what reason, Thalia didn’t know but she had never thought Percy looked younger than he did then. 

“I…Thalia, what are you going to tell him?” Percy’s question only seemed to put Chiron on edge. With instincts she hadn’t excercised since Luke, she grabbed his shoulder again. She wasn’t sure if she was offended when he shrugged it off this time. 

It was like Percy didn’t want anyone to know about his Mom. How pissed would he be when he found out she knew?

“I’ll tell him what happened and only what happened. Unless…”

“No. It’s, fine,” Percy said, clearly not fine, “c’mon Nico. The video’s cool. There’s blood.” 

“Cool!” Nico agreed. 

They stepped out and Thalia was alone with the immortals. 

“Tell me, Thalia,” Dionysus asked, all-too-calmly and using her real name for once, “Where is Annie Bell?” 

Thalia scowled, then spilled the beans. When she was done her eyes were stinging and she found herself even more pissed off than when she started. 

“...I’m worried about Percy,” Thalia admitted, “Artemis talked to him alone. Sniped Bianca di Angelo out from under our noses. He’s…I don’t know. Something’s wrong with him.”

“I will speak with Percy,” Chiron vowed, “this is indeed a very troubling situation.”

“But I’m more worried about Annabeth,” she pressed, “Artemis might be out looking for her but I ain’t gonna sit here and wait for her to do my job for me. I messed up…I need to find her.” 

Dionysus scoffed. Thalia’d done a good job at pretending he wasn’t there and his interjection only riled her up further. Her leg bounced restlessly in the parlor chair she’d taken. Dionysus stood up and made for the parlor mini-fridge, probably for an eighty-seventh Diet Coke. 

“I think not,” he said with a shake of his head, “We’ve lost one demigod, and we’ve found another. Ah…an unclaimed, small, annoying one, but a demigod nonetheless. I won’t go tossing more of you little brats on pointless rescue missions so we can lose even more.” 

Thalia’s heart raced. Her blood boiled in her ears and her fists curled inward. As he reached for the Fridge’s handle, a loud POP sounded throughout the room. Dionysus, pulling his hand away from the fridge, glanced back at Thalia with an unamused expression. Thalia turned away, only to catch sight of Chiron’s hair as it began to defy gravity and elevate itself towards the ceiling. Thalia realized she’d been using her powers. 

As a kid, when she got too mad, the power in her mother’s home would go out. She’d shut down her old school’s by frying the power grid, accidentally or otherwise, more times than she could count. That had been so long ago that she forgot that static electricity responded to her. In spite of herself, she had to do everything in her power not to laugh at Chiron’s afro. 

“Ah, um…Thalia, my dear, perhaps you should take a breath. Mister D may be immune to things like static-overcharge, but I would hate for any unfortunate others to wind up a patient of Michael Yew.” 

“Annabeth isn’t just some Camper!” she snarled, “She’s my best friend, damn it! Just because you don’t give a shit about any of us doesn’t mean I’m gonna just stand by!” 

“Ah,” Dionysus answered, “What a brave new generation.” 

“Thalia-” Chiron tried to inject, to de-escalate, anything, but Thalia couldn’t stop. 

“Why can’t you just shut the fuck up and let us fight your war for you?! Isn’t that what you’re the best at?!”

“You could be a Hades child with the grave you’re digging yourself into,” Dionysus mused, not in the least bit seeming to hear or understand a single word of what she had said. 

“Lord Dionysus, please,” Chiron pleaded, “It is a stressing situation. You must understand that.” 

“What I understand…” Dionysus said flatly, sipping another goddamn soda, “Is that we have yet another so-called Hero who thinks she’s infallible . Perfect.”

Mister D never struck her as intimidating- or well, as intimidating as a god could be. He was just a fat slob who ate with them at meals and handed out lectures now and again. Big fucking deal. But in that moment, something about him changed. He stood up straight, his eyes, usually half-lidded, were wide open. Thalia got a good long look at how starkly purple they were, seeming to change like a wildfire as he stared her down. Had he always been taller than her? She kept his stare, consequences be damned. 

 “Yes, darling Thalia Grace, who survived on a bailout from daddy dearest and a happy side-effect of The Golden Fleece. Our resident golden child . I don’t pretend to have any love for any of you entitled brats-” he snarled, finally losing the apathetic tone, “but I will not be talked down to like a mere draiad or common beast  because I am not beside myself with your losses, Thalia Grace.”

She stood up. The power went out, leaving only the fire blazing in the fire pit to illuminate them. Dionysus laughed. 

“Yes, go ahead. Strike me. See how much good it does you. We all have our own shortcomings, girl. I’m sure you’re infuriated…all these problems floating around, none of which you can figure out with a good jab of that spear or hiding behind that damned shield of yours.”

It hurt that he was right but she wasn’t going to give up, not now. He might have kept going if Percy fucking Jackson hadn’t let Nico out of the home theater room. The door slammed open with a bang, his voice floating in, hyper and crazed. 

“Hey, what happened to the lights? And hey, you’re the freaking Wine Dude! That’s so cool!” 

Thalia would remember the time Nico di Angelo saved her from one of the millions of possible terrible fates for a long time. All because he called Dionysus the “Freaking Wine Dude.” In his briefly distracted state, Chiron jutted his chin toward the front door. 

Thalia didn’t need to be told twice to stomp out into the morning sun and the frigid snow.

Chapter Text

Regrets collect like old friends 

Here to relive your darkest moments 

I can see no way, I can see no way

The door to Percy’s cabin resonated with a gentle knock. Percy opened his eyes and glanced towards the door but made no move to drag himself up off his bed. How long had he been napping? It must have been close to dinner, seeing as no light was slipping in through the dull wooden blinds that covered the windows. If he didn’t do anything, maybe whoever it was would just go away. They didn’t and the knock came once again. 

He groaned and rolled out onto the floor, bare feet touching cold stone. He briefly considered getting a rug before he was already upon the door. There was no looking glass or window to indicate the identity of anyone outside the door so it was always a gamble. Yanking the door open revealed the last people he had expected. Travis and Connor Stoll, with smug grins on their faces. Percy groaned. 

The Stoll Brothers were twin sons of Hermes. A demigod nowadays was rare enough, but twin demigods must have been even more so. They were the resident pranksters of the grounds and often found themselves at odds with most of the other cabins. Ever since Percy had started staying at Camp full-time, they’d often included him in many of their schemes- but also put him on the receiving end. 

One time, the duo had coerced the Aphrodite cabin to hide by the creek during a Capture the Flag game for safety. Their cabin was never much for shrugging on all the annoying armor and running around in the woods but somehow Connor and Travis convinced them they’d be safest by the creek. Percy had been on the opposite team at the time and gave them a good tidal wave. In retaliation, they put a curse on him. His clothes hadn’t fit right for a month afterward. 

“What is it, guys? I was trying to sleep,” Percy grumbled, leaning against the doorframe. Travis scoffed. 

“Trying to mope, more like.” 

“Listen, Chiron wanted us to come and get you,” Connor grinned, “The new kid told us about your mom. That’s pretty rough, buddy.” 

Percy hoped his death glare was satisfying enough but Connor didn’t seem to register it. 

“Thanks, Connor. Really cool.” 

“WE specifically wanted to find you first, see-” Travis continued. 

“-because if you wanted, we’ve got all kinds of ideas to totally mess with each and every one of them-” Connor rolled on, 

“-all the Satyrs are like head over heels for the hunters, right-” Travis giggled, 

“-we call it Hunter Blind Date, and it’s-”

Talking with Connor and Travis was Hades in a handbasket but Percy caught at least half of their words. He raised a silencing hand and waited for them to get through their second spiel concerning a Hunting-Tour Jacket and a mysterious benefactor with centaur blood. They fell silent after a second.

“What would I have to do with any of this?” Percy inquired, shaking the sleep out of his eyes. Somehow the twin’s grins grew even wider. 

“Well, one of them’s your mom, right? Prankster’s honor, we wanted your blessing before we used the best on her!” Travis shrugged, “Or vice versa, if you didn’t want to, you know, that’s fine too.” 

“Oh.” was all Percy’s intelligent brain could come up with in that moment. 

He wasn’t sure if he should be touched or concerned. Travis and Connor never asked for anyone’s permission to cause mayhem. Were they concerned about him? Was this their pity handout? He looked them in the eyes, searching for that expression, the curved eyebrows, the sad half-smile. Instead he just saw the same two stupid grins they always carried around. Not that that was enough to convince him, though. 

Why did he care so much? His friends were trying to help him get back a bit at Sally Jackson and her groupies. He should’ve just said “prank away” and let them go ahead. For whatever reason, that left his stomach churning and he knew that it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. He zipped his jacket up with a sigh. 

Between Dionysus forbidding a rescue mission and this, he didn’t have much of an appetite.

“I appreciate it you two, really,” he began, “But, hey, for now just leave the Hunters alone, yeah?”

The Stolls only looked a little disappointed, which meant they must have already put something into motion. Percy sighed. The brothers gave him their biggest thumbs up in response and Percy threw on his shoes. 

“I mean hey, we’d stay as far away from the Hunters as we could…in normal circumstance,” Travis snorted, “Not gonna happen, though. Capture the Flag, tomorrow night. For a ‘Friendly Competition’.”

For a moment, the image of Sally Jackson sniping a terminal velocity spike out of the air with a bow and arrow flashed through his mind. He scowled as he followed the Stolls. 

“Yeah, I bet it’ll be real friendly.”

They fell into comfortable silence, crunching through the night before Percy uttered, 

“How many people know that my mom’s a…?” 

He trailed off towards because Connor was already counting on hand who was aware. When he ran out of fingers he turned to Travis for assistance before Travis sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. 

“Hey, yeah about that…I dunno man, di Angelo’s a bit of a loudmouth. Comes out yelling all this and that about his sister and your mom and how unfair it is. Word’s kind of gotten around quick. Silena’s pissed.” 

Percy groaned, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and kicking snow. Travis chuckled nervously before Connor continued for him. 

“She really is, you should’ve heard her. I think she wants to spearhead the Capture the Flag game tomorrow. She’ll definitely have a couple words for you though, as a word of warning. You know how persuasive she can be. I think Chiron might too.”

They were rapidly approaching the dining hall. Even so far away, Percy could feel the tension. Already, the Hunters were seated around the normally empty Artemis table while the rest of the campers sat in their own small groups around the marble pavilion. You would think eating in an exposed pavilion in the middle of winter would be cold and shitty but with the giant flaming sacrificial braziers, it was always warm no matter what time of year it was. 

Ignoring the Hunters, Percy glanced around the rest of the tables. Thalia sat alone at the Zeus table, closest to the head table where Chiron and Mister D usually sat. She didn’t look up from her plate but she wasn’t eating either. Sherman Yang and Mark MacArthur were seated at the Ares table in deep conversation. Judging by the amount of grotesque hand signals, Percy figured they were talking about the ways they were gonna attempt to kill the Hunters in Capture the Flag.

The Hephaestus table had Charles Beckendorf and Jake Mason who gave the trio polite nods before continuing their dinner. Charles was sixteen but more jacked than most cyclopes. His dark skin was still shining with sweat, probably because he had taken himself up as the camp blacksmith alongside his siblings. 

Catching sight of twin sets of black hair, Percy registered Silena Beaureguard and Drew Tanaka, Aphrodite’s daughters. Drew picked at her food and looked disdainfully in the Hunters direction while Selena’s distractingly blue eyes found Percy and shot him a look of sympathy. 

Pity. 

Percy shifted his gaze away and instead decided to just grab a seat at the table and get dinner over with. The Poseidon table was diagonal of the Artemis table, in earshot and clearly in plain view of Sally Jackson. Zoë Nightshade, haughty and stoic at the same time, was placed at the head of the table, looking all matriarchal. Sally Jackson was seated to her right, excitedly talking to Bianca di Angelo. Percy caught her eyes straying towards him and hastened to look away.

A wood nymph Percy briefly recognized as Juniper came forward and set a plate of good old fashioned barbecue in front of him. Marinated Spareribs, still steaming and drowned in sauce. They looked fresh off a grill. His mouth watered at the sight and he realized he was pretty hungry. Maybe he should thank the Stolls. Distractedly, he asked his goblet for blue Cherry Coke. 

Then he just stopped, staring. The hall felt a lot colder and a lot more quiet. Did he ask that loud? He watched his reflection in the cobalt surface of the liquid then turned his eyes up jerkily to the Hunters table. 

Kaleidoscopic blue eyes, staring at him. She knew. Heat rushed to Percy’s face and a pit in his stomach opened as he ripped his gaze away, asked for water instead. He ate the rest of his meal in silence.

“Percy, if you would,” Chiron called as they shuffled out of the dining hall, “care to walk with me for a moment?” 

Oh boy, Percy groaned, knew this was coming, but he turned to look up at his teacher either way. He tried his best not to look like he had fifty elephants standing on his heart but he was positive he was failing. Chiron smiled at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“It is good to see you back safely, my boy,” he started, “no lasting bodily harm, I take it?” 

“I got impaled. Tyson’s shield got destroyed,” Percy started, “Nothing broken anymore though. All good now.” 

“And yet, you walk like something has fractured,” Chiron pressed. He was always the kind of teacher who wanted his students to speak their minds and feelings, not simply confect their wisdom, “I wish to discuss this with you.”

Chiron was something of the camp’s collective father figure. It came with the territory, pretty much every demigod had the enjoyable shared background that excluded one or more parents from the picture. And the truth was, more male gods than female gods were out having kids. It was Athena, Demeter, and Aphrodite against Ares, Hermes, Apollo, Hephaestus and Mr. D. Zeus and Poseidon too if you wanted to be extra annoying. Point is most demigods don’t grow up with a dad in the picture and not all of them have the best time with it. 

So no matter where they came from, everyone seemed to harbor a soft spot for the coffee-scented immortal ponytail-rocking centaur. He served as medic in capture the flag, guided them in history courses and was known to impart random- often tragic- tales of lesser known heroes upon the campers. In the winter, however, Chiron had often taken Percy aside to grant tutoring in subjects Percy hadn’t thought to look into on his own. (“Pythagoras was a dear friend of mine, Percy. I’m sure we can overcome his theorem together.”)

Still, though. Percy wasn’t sure he wanted to chat about things just yet. 

“I’m fine, Chiron,” Percy replied, “just…keeping my head in the game for tomorrow.”

Chiron gave Percy’s shoulder a squeeze, “Then I hope you will forgive me wishing to speak strategy with you. Since our Camp’s inception, the hunt has visited our camp fifty-six times, including today.” 

“And we play Capture the Flag every time?” 

“Indeed.” 

“Well, did you keep score? How many have we won?” 

“Our score is currently fifty-five to zero to the Hunters. Which…forgive me, but you may understand why I wish for a victory. Just this once.”

Talking about the game had just been a way to get Chiron to change the subject but now, strangely, Percy felt as fired up as Silena. 

“Ok, for sure. Do you have any tips?” 

“The last time we came close to beating the hunters…that must have been the seventeen hundreds, before the camp came to America,” Chiron mused, “a son of Athena had led the way then. A gallant lad but he had a lot to prove, you see. Yes, young Napoleon was quite the pupil…” 

Percy knew enough to know he wasn’t talking about Dynamite. It always surprised him to learn about just how many famous people wound up the child of whatever god or goddess. 

“He made certain to keep the flag upwind of the Hunters but in Europe we had a great wide field then. The game lasted until morning, as the Hunters kept Zoë Nightshade at their base and Napoleon kept the then-current children of the Big Three on the defensive as well.” 

“So the Hunters on defense could withstand the not as strong demigods while the demigods could hold off against the uh, less experienced Hunters?” Percy guessed, earning an approving nod from Chiron. 

“It went quite well, for a time. The issues arose when the immortal experience of the Hunters began to shine through. Our campers tend to hold just a few summers of combat training, whilst the Hunters live perpetually, always training and improving. Our inevitable slip-ups proved costly when the strength began to wane.”

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. He wished he had Annabeth here to strategize for them. A challenge like this would have her raring to go like almost nothing else could. Percy was more of a “get-in-there-and-go” kind of guy. 

“So if we play the long game, we’ll get outmatched?” 

Chiron nodded, “You will be very hard pressed to find a more capable team in the mythological world. They work seamlessly as one. But, you’ll know what to expect. Their recruits don’t have the extraordinary gifts you or Thalia possess, not usually…best to use them to your advantage I think.”

Percy smiled at the memory of his first capture the flag game, against Clarisse and her siblings. That had been an ordeal. He got some ideas going in his head, then he nodded. 

“Right. I think we can do that,” Percy shrugged, “I’ll have to run it by Thalia.”

“Good…” Chiron trailed off. He looked a little lost for words and yet Percy could hear the question all the same. Percy sighed. 

“You didn’t want to talk about the game though, did you?” Percy asked tiredly. 

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“You want to talk about my mom, don’t you?” 

Chiron’s smile was sad and forced. 

“I’m always here if you want to talk, Perseus. I do wish you would enlighten me on that subject. But…I thought I should inform you that someone told me of her intentions to speak with you. I’d wager she’s already waiting at your cabin.”

“My mom?” 

“No,” Chiron said gravely, “Miss Nightshade.”

Thalia despised dishwashing duty. Anyone would, what with the actual volcanic magma they were working with. It was hot, no shit, tedious, and the workload was doubled because of those gods-damned Hunters. Maybe she shouldn’t have mouthed off to the freaking Wine Dude. Here she was, regardless. 

Watching the Hunters sit around all-comfy cozy, tv-sitcommy family made her want to puke and cry. In that order. It helped that the rest of camp seemed as miserable at their inclusion as she did. Here they were, hamming it up, having a delightful time sniping Campers out from under them while Annabeth was missing. Dishwashing was one of the easiest ways to make someone feel worthless, especially in times like these. 

Thalia scoffed, reaching for another plate smeared in various foodstuffs before she tensed. Her instincts, frazzled, shouted that she wasn’t alone. She whipped her head around and had to double take. If it was possible for her mood to darken, it did then. 

Staring back at her near the lava basin was Sally Jackson. 

“Thalia,” she greeted, smiling not unkindly but not extremely friendly. One might call it cautious, “do you need any help with those?”

Thalia shot her the darkest look she could conjure. Immortalized at twenty four years old, Sally was still strikingly beautiful, assisted by the slight glow all blessed Hunters adopted when they swore their vow. Her chocolate brown hair was shoulder length, delicately cut. Her blue eyes always seem to shift colors in the light. If Thalia didn’t despise her she would probably be a blushing mess. 

It was easy to see why Poseidon had fallen for her. Thalia wondered what he might say to her now. 

“I only need help figuring out why you’re talking to me right now.”

Sally shrugged, “I was upset to hear of what happened after we went our separate ways. I’m happy to see you safe now…you’ve grown, too.”

“If I’m remembering right, we went our separate ways because you’re all a bunch of heartless little-“ 

“There’s nothing wrong with my memory, Thalia,” Sally shot back. All the same she had already put a pair of gloves on and begun working alongside the daughter of Zeus. Thalia sighed. 

“If you’re here to try and and get me back into your immortal babysitters club, you can go the hell away right now.”

“I’m here to help you finish these dishes. I’m also here because I wanted to talk to you. Is that so hard to believe?” She asked as she began put away the plates Thalia had set out to dry. 

“Yes, actually. Why are you asking about me when you should be asking about him?” Thalia grumbled.

Sally shrugged. 

“I did want to talk with you and catch up. But if you’d rather skip all that I can ask you about him instead. Because let’s face it, I do want to ask you how you came to meet.” 

Thalia snatched another plate and placed it in the lava. 

“I was a tree. The Golden Fleece brought me back. I go to an all-girls school in the city with Annabeth. Happy?” 

Sally smiled warmly at her recollection of the past six months. 

“Very. Like I said, I was very distraught after we caught wind of what happened to you. I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, dear.”

Silence. Wash, hand to Sally, wash, hand to Sally. Repeat twenty seven times. 

“You want to say ‘I told you so,’ don’t you?” Thalia driveled. 

“Why do you think that?” Sally replied, voice light. Coaxing. Motherly.

“Because I know what you’re all like. I know what you’re thinking, you, Zoë, I’m sure you’ve told di Angelo all about me…” Thalia trailed off. 

“I can’t speak for my sisters,” Sally said after a moment, “But you’re friends with my son, aren’t you?” 

My son. 

“He’s not your son,” Thalia basically snarled. Thalia knew exactly what she had sworn when the oath came to her. She turned her back on her past life completely, took back the bonds and attachments she had formed. It had to be harsher- Sally was no virgin maiden. 

Did it get very quiet or was it just her? Sally breathed out slowly. 

“No, I suppose not,” Sally admitted quietly “but you are friends?” 

Thalia felt confused. She was mad when Sally claimed him but now she was even angrier that she didn’t claim him. She shrugged, moving on to the last of the dishes to distract herself. 

“Yeah, I guess so, kinda,” Thalia admitted. She liked him well enough, she guessed, she hadn’t known him that long. They’d butted heads a bit. Really she just felt guilty about him right now and more than a little worried. 

“Then if I said I told you so,” Sally spelled out slowly, “It would say a lot about what I thought of Percy, wouldn’t it?”

“Do you have any idea how it feels to walk around like this?!” Thalia snapped, “He’s been a moping mess since I first met him all because he’s been wandering around hoping to find you! He never considered for even a second that you’d just go and drop him!” 

Thalia ripped her gloves off and placed herself opposite of Sally in the kitchenette. 

“And I knew exactly where you were this whole time. I was just too stupid to put it together. …How am I supposed to tell him that? That his friends might have been out and about keeping that from him?” 

Sally waited for a moment. Thalia’s heart had started racing, her breaths coming quick. The Huntress’ technique was practiced, Thalia could tell. She’d waited for Thalia to say what she had to say before rebutting. It was so very motherly that Thalia wanted to puke. 

“I’m sorry that I put that weight on your shoulders,” she breathed, voice quiet, “I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

A loaded statement if Thalia had ever heard one. Sally locked eyes with Thalia. 

“I only want to know him, at the very least. That’s all. And I want him to know how terribly sorry I am. Which must sound rich, coming from me.” 

Thalia didn’t want to hear anymore of this. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged, already walking off, “It does.”

As a rule, female campers and male campers weren’t allowed to be in the same room alone together. Chiron wasn’t stupid- mortal teenagers were dumb, hormonal and horny. DEMIGOD teenagers were dumber, hormonal-er, and hornier to keep things simple. Having a cabin all to himself was a pretty good gig as far as that went. It was just… 

If Percy ever had any kind of fantasy about bringing a girl into his cabin alone- it did not involve Zoë Nightshade. And yet here they were. 

“Greetings, son of Poseidon,” Zoë nodded, “Forgive mine intrusion. I would speak with thee.” 

Percy’s response was very intelligent. 

“Uh. Okay.”

He shut the door, still sort of jarred and not sure of himself. A Hunter was the last person he wanted to see in his room- or life for that matter. Especially not Artemis’ favorite. He was in enemy territory in his own godsdamn bedroom. Briefly he wished he had cleaned up his room before he set out that morning. 

In spite of himself he kicked his dirty clothes under his bed. Zoë pretended not to notice. She was standing next to the saltwater fountain in the corner of the room- wait, what Saltwater Fountain? 

Glowing a faint shade of blue, was a grey searock basin draining and filling with clear blue water. At it’s crest was a fish head that spat out the water. It was hot, sending steam into the normally cold room. Zoë’s porcelain, silvery skin contrasted with the steam. She looked ghostlike.

“Thy fountain,” Zoë acknowledged, “I knew of one much like it in mine youth. ‘Twas a long time ago.” 

“Cool,” Percy shrugged. He’d worry about the mystery fountain later, “Why are you here?”

Zoë’s eyes narrowed for half a moment. Her face betrayed no emotion, and for a girl who looked his age she must have been alive a long time to nail that trick. Percy sat on his bed and leaned forward. Zoë seemed to be choosing her words carefully, however. Perhaps she was unsure of what to say. 

“I am not a maiden who is privy to the company of boys,” Zoë started, “none of my sisters are. Except for one, of course.”

It was Percy’s turn to take on a pissed off expression then. 

“If you’re here to talk about Sally, save it,” Percy snapped. 

“Wilst thou let me finish?” Zoë fired back, cold. Percy kept his mouth shut but didn’t want to back down- not in his own room. His leg wouldn’t stop tapping. Zoë sighed. 

“What I am saying,” she forced out, “is that I hope thou does not take my words lightly.” 

“So what are you trying to say?” 

Her stare was piercing. “…I have been having dreams. Dreams of the past, of the things I have tried so hard to forget. Dreams of what I believe may be the future, of things I do not wish to come to pass. Does thou understand?”

Percy understood quite a bit about bad dreams. There was Hestia’s yearly one, not to mention the nightmares about his long list of near-death experiences. He nodded. 

“So why tell me? You hate guys.” 

“‘Tis true,” Zoë agreed, “but I have my reasons. One of which concerns thyself.” 

Strange dreams. A man-hating immortal hunter in his room alone. Dreams of the future. Percy leaned forward onto his knees, his bed creaking. 

“…I’m in one of your dreams, aren’t I?” Percy started, slowly, testing the waters and praying he was wrong. Zoë nodded in affirmation, wiping that prayer away. She took a seat on the edge of the basin of water, staring into it. 

“Is it bad?” He whispered. It so-often was, “Is Annabeth in them?” 

“Yes. I would call it bad,” Zoë admitted, “Thy friend Annabeth appears only in dreams of the past.”

Pause.

“The past? Why the past?” Percy asked, tentative. Zoë looked back at him, confused. 

“We happened upon thy friends, Thalia, Annabeth and Luke, seven years ago. Thou did not know?” 

Something clicked into place then. Something black and ugly and upsetting, like the rest of this whole day. If Thalia and Annabeth had met the Hunt, did they know about Sally too? Did they know and refuse to tell him? He wasn’t sure if he could take that. 

The rational part of him told him that Annabeth would never do that to him. She was his best friend. If she’d known Sally was his mother, and in the hunt, she would have offered that information to him immediately. But Thalia? Percy didn’t know. He’d only known her such a short time- maybe she didn’t even know Sally then. 

“…if I am remembering correctly,” Zoë almost whispered, “Sally’s story did not reach Annabeth’s ears.” 

Relief. Pure and unfiltered, the first of it in what felt like eternity. But Zoë continued. 

“Sally and I did attempt to recruit thy friend, Thalia. Sally imparted her story to her.” 

How many people were going to worm their way into Percy’s past before this day was over? Percy swallowed. He couldn’t meet Zoë’s gaze. But in a voice that sounded strangely like reassurance, Zoë kept going. 

“And I believe Thalia was so disgusted with Sally’s decision that she left our camp within the hour. Much dreadful cursing was extended her way.”

It was a weird feeling that went through his chest then. Something like relief and pride at the same time. Annabeth told him about what it was like, out and about, running across the country as three demigod runaways. An offer like the Hunt must have been very tempting. 

But Thalia had stayed loyal to Luke and Annabeth. Dropped some choice words in his mother’s direction too. If Percy didn’t know what to think of Thalia before, he knew that he’d give her a big hi-five the next time he saw her. Besides, how could she have reasonably put together that Sally was his mom? She’d been a tree for six and some change years. 

“Uh…thanks, for telling me,” Percy shrugged, “I’m glad she didn’t join.” 

Zoë raised a perfect eyebrow at Percy, who coughed. 

“Right, yeah, your dream. The bad one.” 

Zoë Nightshade rose from beside the basin and once again looked as though she was trying to find the right words to say. Percy’s leg bounced again.

“I will spare many of the details. In my dream,” Zoë started, “I see thee. Thou art younger, small, and hurt. Before thee is a grave decision. A fire burns, weak, practically embers. Thou may either let it die or nurture it.” 

Percy’s palms began to sweat. He was very very still. 

“But thy choice… It is one thou makes in haste, swept up in the tide of righteous fury. You then turn and make thy way into the dark, alone. Then there is only fire, vicious and yellow. And then…nothing.” 

The Big Three foreswearing demigod children. The Sirens. Circe. Kronos’ refusal to kill him. Luke’s pleading, begging for him to rally to his cause. Thalia’s return. The Great Prophecy. A choice to save or destroy Olympus. Annabeth kidnapped. Zoë’s dream. Sally leaving him behind. Hestia. 

Was that why she left? Did she know? 

“Why? Why are you telling me this?” Percy asked, glaring at the floor. 

Zoë’s reply was soft but it forced him to look up in surprise. 

“There are a myriad of reasons maidens find their way into our sisterhood. Among them, very often, is…abandonment.” 

Obsidian eyes met sea green ones. In Zoë’s eyes, Percy saw not pity. For once, not pity but understanding. 

“Thou deserved this warning. Treat it wisely, Percy Jackson.”

She was gone without another word. 

He didn’t think he’d sleep that night, carrying around the prophetic dream that said he was going to destroy Olympus. But after a quick phone call with Tyson- the fountain in his room seemed to function as a landline- he crawled into bed. He must have dozed off at some point, seeing as he was suddenly everywhere, all at once.

Demigod dreams were worse than even the most vivid fever dream. They could show you the past, the present, or the future. They could show you possibilities, probabilities, or certainties. They could take you anywhere at any time. Percy had travelled from the mouth of Tartarus to his old New York Apartment, spoken to dead people and the living. However, he’d never wound up in a place like this. 

Black rocks. Strange lukewarm humidity in the air and the scent of monsters. Something else too, something like cough drops. Percy walked on what felt like gravel but made no sound. He saw nobody…in fact, he couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him. He could hear grunting, cries of effort just up ahead. They were feminine sounding and Percy willed himself to go faster. Then he wished he hadn’t. 

Annabeth was there. Annabeth was on her knees, palms and elbows pressed flat against what looked to be jagged rocks and flowing mist. Annabeth was crying, exhausted, her breath ragged. Percy was beside her in an instant, trying to speak to her, trying to lift up on whatever it was that was pressing down on her. The gravel below them was pressed so tightly into Annabeth’s legs, Percy could see that they were drawing blood. 

“You’re certainly holding out a lot longer than I thought,” a voice sneered, and suddenly Percy wasn’t alone. Luke was kneeling next to her, opposite of Percy, watching her like a psychopath in a slasher flick. 

He’d grown paler, more gangly than Percy had last remembered. His scar seemed to glow, almost. His eyes were sunken, with dark circles around them. Percy wondered how well Kronos had been treating him since his failure that previous summer. 

“L-Luke-“ Annabeth croaked, chilling Percy to the bone. Luke reached out and stroked some of Annabeth’s hair out of her eyes. Percy watched in horror at the realization that it had turned white.

Then a voice, deep and booming, resounding like a gunshot, cut over the dream. 

“Come now, boy, don’t toy with our guest. After all, she has only a few more precious hours!” 

Luke straightened as if worried, then rose from his squat. As he walked away, he turned one last time, regarding her with an icy coldness. 

“Try not to die, Annabeth,” Luke shrugged, “Jackson  and Thalia have some big choices to make. I’m sure you don’t wanna miss it.”

Then it was gone. The tone shifted so fast Percy thought he was going to give himself whiplash looking around. With a groan he realized he was back in the apartment yet again. Christmasy smell, haphazardly cleaned, dark. 

He turned to where he knew the Goddess of the Hearth would be sitting. Immortal or not, Percy was ready to chew her out of his head. Just as he opened his mouth to say something stupid, he had to stop. Hestia was gone. There was only a smoking pit of charred remnants. 

A blackened Yankees baseball cap. A broken bracelet, half-melted. Charred Reed Pipes. A bow, string burnt away. Countless possessions of the people Percy knew and cared about made up the pit of ash and smoke. He reached out to them, dropping to his knees, trying to pull them out, save them, but they burnt his flesh. 

Then it was there. Laughter, like the sounds of an Earthquake. The enemy of all western civilization.

“Yes, try, try all you like Percy Jackson,” Kronos cackled, “This outcome is inevitable if you would side with my traitorous children.” 

“Go away!” Percy shouted, cradling his fingers. Kronos simply chuckled. 

“The Gods turned your civilization against you. The Wine God would see you rot in your camp while your friend is crushed to nothing. Zeus would see you dead in favor of his spawn. And…yes…The Moon Goddess plucked your mother away from you.” 

“SHUT UP!” Percy shouted at nothing. Then the air filled with the smell of acrid sulfur. The brazier erupted in brilliant yellow flame. 

“How many more Olympians must betray you before you see the truth? Your great choice is coming, Sea Spawn. Choose wisely.”

The fire consumed his entire apartment, snatching onto his flesh and clothes. Then all he felt was pain, pain, pain. 

Percy woke up screaming and did not find rest again.

Percy wasn’t the only one with bad dreams that night. In synchronization, almost, Percy Jackson dreamed of the present. Thalia Grace, however, dreamt of the past. 

Annabeth and Luke were there. Annabeth was just a little girl again, Luke was fourteen. They were sitting around a campfire in the woods, with a familiar ring of round silver tents in the background. But they weren’t alone. She looked no different than she did in reality but Sally Jackson- back then just Sally the Hunter- was leading her away from her friends. 

If Thalia had known then, she would have grabbed her friends and got the fuck out of dodge. But she didn’t. Instead, she could feel the ghost of emotions from that night. She had looked around the camp, met the girls who were always on the move like her but took their home with them wherever they went. They toiled for fun, unlike the trio. They hunted their next meal, were backed up at all times, watched over by an immortal goddess. 

She remembered, that night, considering joining. 

If Thalia had ever known what her mother could be like when she wasn’t drunk, she couldn’t recall. What she did know was that Sally felt quite a bit like what a mom should have been. Calm, kind, helpful. A listening ear, a teacher. The other hunters had described her as such. 

It was there, in front of her. Everything she wanted. Or, used to want.

Present Thalia was dragged along, dreading what came next. They were on the outskirts of the camp, walking without fear among the wolves that guarded their camp. Thalia barely met Sally’s shoulders in height. 

“You seem a little lost, dear,” Sally offered, urging her to speak her mind, “Would you like to talk about it?” 

“I just…” Oh gods, was that what her voice had sounded like? Present Thalia cringed while past Thalia continued, “You all seem like you’re so happy here.” 

“And how does that make you feel?” 

Sally handed a cut of dried meat to a passing wolf, who took it gratefully before bounding off. Then she turned back to Thalia with a patient smile. 

“…you all seem so happy. And I wonder if I should…maybe…maybe I could stay here.”

Sally nodded and looked so proud that past Thalia was elated. Present Thalia wanted to gag. She knew exactly what was next, saw the memory clear as day. Past Thalia shrugged. 

“I don’t know, though. Luke can’t join. And Anna…she’s really strong but she’s still little.”

Sally took her hand then. It was soft and warm, but calloused from bow practice. Thalia wondered if serving Artemis made you better at archery. They had stopped walking. Sally lead her over to a rock and they took a seat on it. The moon was full and clear overhead. 

“You’re right, on both counts. Luke certainly wouldn’t be allowed in. Exceptions can always be made, of course, but Annabeth is very young. We would certainly love to have her, but perhaps in just a few more years.” 

Past Thalia rubbed her cold hands together. 

“You said exceptions. Were you one?”

Sally’s smile faded when she asked. Present Thalia wanted the dream to end. 

“It’s…like I said, it’s a long story,” Sally hesitated, “but, yes. I was one.”

“I wanna hear it,” Thalia had asked, curious then, “if that’s okay.” 

Sally sighed but relented. In the dream, it was a lot quieter than Thalia remembered. 

“When I was a little girl,” Sally started, “about your age…this would have been the eighties, mind you. Zoë came to my school.” 

“But you’re old,” Past Thalia interrupted, before snapping her mouth shut and going red in the face. Sally raised an eyebrow but merely laughed. 

“You’re right, I’m a lot older now. Zoë came to my school to hunt a monster…” 

When the story was done and told, Past Thalia wrenched her hand free of Sally’s grip. The woman was crying, not sobbing, but tears had started rolling down her cheeks. The Present Thalia felt like puking. And when the wind began to blow, she heard other voices. And the more Thalia and Sally spoke, the louder the whispered voices got. 

Thalia, put Jason in the car. We’re taking a trip, just the three of us.

“You…but you said he…”

Hon, be a dear and get the picnic basket. 

“Yes…it wasn’t an easy decision. But I just…” 

I’ll watch Jay. Don’t worry. 

“You LEFT him there!” Thalia had shouted.

Mom? Where’s Jason? 

“I did,” she whispered, forlorn.

Jason! JASON! Where are you?! 

“You said the monsters…and Poseidon told you about that destiny…and you just…” 

He’s gone! She’s claimed him and he isn’t coming back! 

And then she saw the clearing. That stupid house in wine country where her mom had left Jason. Her mom was clutching herself, crying, an even smaller Thalia marching around in search of a brother who was dead. On top of her mother’s wheezing, she could make out another sound, more tears. Young tears, like a little boy crying. It was just beyond the door to the house her brother must have died in. The child Thalia didn’t make it to the door, but in her dream she could move. 

She bounded forward, grabbing the ancient, cracked handle and throwing herself into the door. Instead she came face to face with something she was sure she was never meant to see. The smell hit her first. 

Cigars, booze, microwaved leftovers. She was in an apartment the size of a shoe box, it felt like. The apartment was filthy but there were Christmas Decorations about the yellowing walls and old seventies style flooring. She heard cars through a nearby window and football commentary blasting off the tv. The smell was repulsive enough to make her gag but it was the center of the room that made her freeze. 

Percy Jackson, definitely Percy Jackson, younger than even Annabeth had been when she’d met her. Five, maybe. And he was nursing his left arm, just beneath his shoulder. 

“I ain’t your fucking mom, kid,” a phantom voice, repugnant and irritating called out to him, “but you’re gonna remember this. Always draggin’ me into your shit. So remember this the next time you think about pulling some shit. Hold still.” 

“I had a husband,” Sally had said, “A repulsive man. I thought if I chose someone foul enough, that…maybe the monsters would stay away. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to smell my son. But he…he was worse than I thought.” 

“Are you okay?” She asked him, crouching down beside him. He was so scrawny. He’d always been kind of knees and elbows but this was jarring. 

“It burns,” He said, slowly, acknowledging her, “he burned me.”

“He burnt you?” She demanded, reaching out to his hands, trying to look at where it hurt. But he pulled away. 

“Stop it! Go away! I want my mom!” He shouted, “I don’t want you!”

“Stop! Percy! Let me help you!” 

Like you helped Luke? Like you helped Jason? Like you helped Annabeth?

Get real. 

When she turned, all she saw was the corpse of her mother, the corpse of her brother and the the corpse of Annabeth. Luke’s sneering face as he stood over the group. They were rotting, fading each and every one the smell and the sounds tearing into her nostrils and the image boring into her skull. Without ceremony, Percy stood and joined them.

She too would wake screaming and find no rest

Chapter Text

I am the same, I'm the same, I'm trying to change

Percy went from moping around to being really quiet and rigid the next day. Thalia was getting sick of it.

The morning was grey and cloudy. The Hunt had gone from laughing and cheerful to somber and quiet, but Thalia wasn’t sure why. Zoë was as taught as her bowstring, whispering urgently with Sally. The other hunters were silent as they ate, although some looked like they’d been crying. Maybe Thalia should’ve looked deeper into that but she didn’t care. 

The Campers were far more excitable than the Hunters, some of whom were talking excitedly about what was to come that night. Capture the Flag had always been an intense subject for all campers involved, though today a lot of people seemed to be taking it personal. Percy however, did not join them. He looked like a walking corpse. 

He burned me. 

Once more she wondered how in Hades she was going to tell him how much she knew. It was weighing her down something heavy. Then Percy tried to sneak off before Breakfast was over, making a beeline for his cabin. Thalia cursed under her breath and got up, quickly tossing her plate in the flames and rushing him down. 

“Hey, Thalia,” Percy greeted when she caught up. His voice seemed hoarse. She probably had a really pissed off expression because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Thalia lied, “What’s wrong with you?” 

His hands went to his jacket pockets and he shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just tired.” 

“Bullshit,” Thalia snapped, “You look like you’re gonna fall over.” 

“I just want to lie down,” Percy grumbled, “Give me a break.”

That wasn’t a satisfactory answer and they both knew it. So even if she wanted to let it lie, let him get the rest he clearly missed out on, she did not want to leave him alone. Percy could be insufferable and thick-headed but he needed help. Thalia’s heart sank, thinking about what may have changed if she’d stayed with Luke in his time of need. 

“Too bad, Jackson,” Thalia said, “We’re going scouting.”

“Scouting.” 

“Yup. Let’s go, Kelp Head. The Hunter’s aren’t gonna beat themselves tonight.” 

Thalia couldn’t express how relieved she was when he actually followed her into the woods. 

Thalia had never been to Camp Half-Blood in the winter, let alone the monster-stocked woods. The snow that had covered the ground yesterday was beginning to melt, making the trip incredibly muddy. The duo would catch sight of a deer or bird from time to time, but never a monster. She asked Percy if he knew why. 

“Chiron only restocks the woods in the Spring,” he explained, “Less campers, less reason for monsters. The strong ones in the woods usually end up dead before Summer’s end, so the rest hide out for the winter.”

Sometimes Thalia was jealous of Percy and Annabeth. According to the daughter of Athena, she’d been living at Camp since Thalia had been pine tree-ified and Percy had been staying since he was twelve. She wondered what it was like, being here year-round. Did the year-round campers get along? Was it peaceful? Stable? What were the different holidays like? She wished she had been here for it.

“Makes sense I guess,” she replied, glancing off into the distance. “So if we can’t stand within ten yards of the flag, will Zeus’ Fist work?”

“Hmm…” Percy hummed, “Could be alright. It’s a big wide clearing- but it puts the creek between us. It’ll probably be pretty easy to snipe our defenders, big clearing like that. You know how accurate they can be.”

Thalia recalled Sally Jackson’s interception of the thin, obscenely fast projects that Thorn had thrown at them at Westover. But that’s not what she really cared about right now. They both knew there were no better positions to set up against the Hunters unless they wanted to wake up the Mermekes in the deeper reaches of the woods.

Enough with this, she thought to herself. She steeled whatever guts she had and turned to face the son of Poseidon head on. She couldn’t wait around making small talk about a game she didn’t even really care that much about when she had all this weight on her head. It was like someone had put a bowling ball in her skull, rolling around unsecured and knocking into all her other thoughts.

And yet, as he usually did, Percy surprised her. He was leaning up against a tree when he admitted, quickly, almost nervously, “Listen. I had a dream.”

“A dream?” she asked. She’d had a dream too. Was that why he was so tired looking?

“Yeah…it was about Annabeth,” his voice sounded weak as he said her name, and Thalia’s heart sank into her stomach, “She’s in trouble.”

“Tell me,” she hastened, worried, so deathly worried in the span of two seconds.

“I don’t know what I saw, not really,” Percy tried to explain, “It was this weird smelling cave- like cough drops. I found Annabeth there on the ground, like she was trying to get up. It looked like she was holding up the ceiling of the cave,” Percy’s voice took on a weird quality, like he was trying to keep himself calm, “She was in serious pain. I saw Luke there, sneering at her…something about needing to wait just a few more hours, from this weird voice. Then Luke said we would be needed soon, that we had decisions to make or something like that.”

Thalia wanted to scream so she did. She kicked rocks and snow in her frustration, running a hand through her hair in anger. Out there in this big piece of shit dung heap they called the world, her little sister was in agony, fighting beings who threatened gods themselves. Where was she? Summer Camp, playing capture the Flag with a bunch of stuck-up bitches. Percy looked at her sympathetically, like he’d already taken all the same actions she just had.

“And Mister D won’t even let us fucking leave…” she muttered bitterly, plopping down a relatively less wet rock. Percy’d already found a somewhat dry branch to take a rest on, not that the wetness would bother him probably.

“Yup…” he agreed, head leaned back against a tree.

“So we ditch camp,” Thalia shrugged, “leave today and start looking. You, Annabeth, that cyclopes- you guys all ran out to go help Grover without permission, right?”

“That’s right.” He agreed hesitantly, “but Mister D gave us a bit of a talking to after we ran off. The prophecy kind of defended our actions but I had stable-cleaning duty for the rest of the summer. I get the feeling if we try it again, we’re not gonna get very far.”

Thalia was pissed but she knew Percy wasn’t wrong. They were guided by a two thousand something year old centaur, a literal god, and a hundred-eyed man who patrolled the borders. Not to mention there were camp harpies. There was three times greater a chance of getting caught and punished/murdered than there was successfully getting away to find Annabeth. Where would they even find her?

“Black rocks, cave ceiling, cough drops,” Percy listed, “Do you have any idea what it means?”

“Not a damn clue,” Thalia groaned, “but Annabeth’s in trouble. That’s all I really need.”

“I’m with you.”

Neither of them wanted to go into any more depth on what Luke meant by “big decisions.” That was fine by Thalia. Big choices weren’t really her forte. Not when she was a big three kid. Percy probably thought the same thing. And Thalia hadn’t forgotten what Apollo said, that shit about her birthday being next week. He’d practically said “Daughter of Zeus” and “sixteen next week” in the same sentence. She just wished she knew the exact wording of the prophecy.

If they had a choice to make, between destroying or saving Olympus, wasn’t it going to be an easy call? Thalia, most demigods for that matter, didn’t have a lot of love for their parents but they were still their parents. Kronos ate people- his Titans did even worse. So why did the phrasing of it give her so much pause? Would the choice really be so simple?

Shaking her head, Thalia instead went back to Annabeth. Out there alone with Luke and some other scary voice. Black rocks and cave ceilings. She wondered if Percy hadn’t seen some kind of metaphor or interpretation of events. Did what was happening really matter if Annabeth was in pain? No, it didn’t. Thalia felt restless. She wanted to grab Percy, Grover, whoever and get the fuck up out of dodge. Cross-country trip, no problem, until she was safe. Then she could apologize to her for fucking up so badly at Westover.

But Percy was right. They had no leads or clue of where she could be, outside of a few dreams. So for now they had to wait for some kind of sign or opening. She looked back at Percy. He wasn’t looking at her now, just gazing off into the treeline. The silence was comfortable. Nothing seems to help a bad mood more than someone who’s just as pissed as you are. They sat like that for a bit, Thalia wondering and working up the nerve to speak to him again.

Where would she start? The dream or the history lesson? It was probably better to tell him about when she met his mom, maybe apologize for it to. She cleared her throat and he looked back toward her.

“Percy, uh…” Damn it, why was this hard? “When Annabeth and Luke and I were running around the country, together…This was about seven years ago, I guess. We ran into-“

“Woah, hey-“Percy cut in, hands raised. She hoped she didn’t look slack-jawed because she had no idea why he was interrupting her right now. “If this is about how you met the Hunters when you were a kid- I already know.”

The gods had to be fucking kidding her.

“You KNOW?”

“Y-Yeah. Zoë told me last night. About how they tried to recruit you and…y’know, how you didn’t join because of my mom,” Percy recounted, sounding maybe a little sad before a small smile broke out on his face, “its fine. You didn’t know she was my mom, right?”

Thalia wanted to scream again. Walking around with this for a day and a half and stupid Zoë had already told him for some reason? This was a prank. But it was good to see Percy smile again, she observed. Almost infectious. It almost distracted her from something that didn’t line up.

Why did Zoë Nightshade, the biggest man-hater on the planet, go off and speak one on one with Percy Jackson? Questions for later.

“No, I didn’t know,” Thalia said, “I was so dismissive of your issues on the bus to Westover…but, walking around, I knew the answer to your question this whole time. I felt so shitty, not putting it together and not telling you. I’m sorry.”

Percy shrugged dismissively. “Don’t worry. It’s cool. I know you would’ve told me first thing if you knew. You’ve had a lot happening on your end too. And…I’ll admit, when she told me you had a lot of choice words to say to her.” He laughed, “I’ll admit, it felt good.”

Thalia was relieved that he wasn’t going to take the news badly, at least. “Well good then. I still feel shitty about it but if you’re cool with it, that’s good. And, yeah. I uh,” she trailed off for a moment before shaking her head.

What could she really say? She wasn’t a stranger to horrible moms growing up after all. That’s why Thalia hated what Percy’s mom did so much after all. Would he honestly want to hear her sob story about her mom? Not when he was going through so much already, right? Then again, maybe it’d be good for Percy to understand that he wasn’t alone in how he felt about her.

“I didn’t have the best mom. Growing up, I mean,” Thalia started there. She hadn’t thought about her mother in a few months now, not before yesterday, “She drank a lot. Yelled, got into a lot of stupid stunts. Knowing she snagged the king of the gods, it really got her I guess.”

Percy watched her intently as she spoke, drinking in every word with surprising focus given they were a couple of ADHD kids. It was a little uncomfortable- she couldn’t remember the last time she’d shared this part of her history with anyone. Had it been Luke? Probably.

“So she was always on one thing or another. It’s why I left. Found out she actually passed away two years ago. Car accident, I guess.”

“Thalia,” Percy lamented, “That’s terrible. I’m…really sorry.”

“S’cool,” Thalia answered, “She wasn’t much of a mom. It hurt at first but I’m over it now, I think.”

“Is that why you uh…y’know, in Apollo’s car?”

At first Thalia didn’t know what he was talking about. When it hit what he was referring to, she wanted to go climb the nearest tree and never come back down. Eternal life as a Pine Tree would be a better alternative than listening to the “Thalia Almost Terminator 2 Nuked New England” story again. She hoped she didn’t look as red in the face as she felt.

“Yeah. That must have been it, yeah.”

“I see. Well, I’ll keep that in mind next time you need to drive us somewhere,” Percy teased, back to smiling. They shared a brief laugh before Thalia tried to bring it back to what they were talking about.

“So yeah. You could probably guess why I’d have a few things to say about shitty moms to a shitty mom.”

As Percy usually did, however, he surprised her.

“She wasn’t…” Percy began, almost on some kind of reflex. His whole demeanor seemed to shift on a dime then. He went from jokingly stoic to defensive, his shoulders hunching in on themselves, suddenly watching Thalia very closely. He couldn’t seem to get the words he wanted to say out.

“She wasn’t what?” Thalia asked, sounding a lot calmer than she probably felt.

“Nothing. Forget it.” Percy dismissed.

“Wasn’t a shitty mom? That’s what you were going to say, right?”

“Just leave it, Thalia.”

She probably should’ve left it. But she couldn’t, not after that. What was going on inside that seaweed brain of his? She did not spend two days obsessing over some dark secret, stay awake at night with the knowledge of what Sally put her son through only for him to walk around like it was okay. So she didn’t leave it.

“No. She was a shitty mom, Percy. I’m not going to let you pretend she wasn’t. You don’t even know the full story!”

Now he was mad. He stood up and she joined him.

“The full story? You think you know everything about me, then?” Percy shot back, “You didn’t live with her. You don’t know what it was like.”

“Why is she suddenly perfect? You can’t even look her in the eye!” Thalia started shouting. “Two seconds ago you said you were happy I told her to fuck off!”

“I never said she was!” Percy shouted right back, “I just- you don’t know what it was like!”

“She told me exactly what it was like, Percy! She told me each and every reason why she chose the Hunt over you!”

“Stop it, Thalia. Just stop it.”

“Do you honestly think she’s worth defending? Do you honestly think she wasn’t one?”

“I don’t know what to think!” He was screaming now. The forest was completely silent, “If you haven’t noticed, we’ve got a lot bigger things to deal with! Annabeth is gone! Kronos is rising! In two years I’ll be sixteen! It happened a long time ago! I’m not gonna worry about this stupid shit right now! There’s bigger things to worry about than my mommy issues, and I don’t need you giving me all this pity shit! We have to find Annabeth!”

For a second, she didn’t know what to say. She found her voice a second later. Regardless of distance she marched forward and jabbed a finger into the son of Poseidon’s sternum.

“Pity? PITY? You think I’d rather be here trying to plead my case to you? When my little sister is out there somewhere, hurting? Fuck no!” her voice sounded a little wet, but she pressed on, “But I’m stuck here, same as you! I’ve already went and screwed over Annabeth for my fuck-ups! I ran off and nearly got myself killed- then Luke turns around while I was sleeping and joins the damn Titans! You think I’m just trying to talk to you because I fucking pity you?”

“I-“

“Damn it, Jackson! I’m trying to fucking help you because I care about you damn it! You’re my fucking friend- I don’t care what our parents think! I don’t care if you don’t think so! But do NOT tell me I’m wasting my time trying to help you!”

Heavy breathing and two angry stares were all that was left after that. Thalia growled, snarling, and turned aside, pounding her hand against a tree. Percy slumped back. Thoroughly dejected, the both of them, they sat there in silence. It was Percy who broke it.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“You’re right, I know,” he mutters, “I meant what I said. I don’t know what to think. Everything’s so…fucked up right now. Annabeth, my mom, Zoë’s dream…”

“Zoë’s dream?” Thalia demanded, “What are you talking about?”

Percy paced around his tree for a moment, looking as lost as he had been for the past two days. He sighed before he explained.

“Last night, Zoë…I don’t know why, maybe she felt bad for me. But she told me some dreams she’s been having. About when she met you and Luke and Annabeth, and me. She says I had a choice to make, something big. And I…fuck it up. I fail. I make the wrong choice because I do something stupid.”

“Percy,” Thalia almost whispered, mouth probably hanging open in shock, “She can’t…come on, you can’t believe that. She’s just a hunter. She was probably just saying that to fuck with you or something.”

“No,” the stubborn kelp head muttered, “She…I don’t know. But I know she wasn’t lying. And what if it’s real? What if I am the prophecy kid and what if I can’t do it?”

“We don’t even know if you’re the guy!” Thalia argued, “It could be me! You think I don’t have dreams like that?”

That got to him. He still seemed pretty upset, even if he shut his mouth with an audible click. He ran a hand through his hair. Thalia didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone more tired looking. At least they weren’t yelling anymore.

Zoë Nightshade was so shaken up by a dream about Percy that she went and told him. If Percy said she wasn’t lying, then perhaps it was true. Thalia recalled this morning, the Hunters at the breakfast table. They all looked pretty put off even though the day had just started. Maybe it had something to do with that. Either way, it wasn’t right.

Weren’t the two of them supposed to just be kids? They weren’t even old enough to drive yet. Except with a permit, which Apollo so wonderfully demonstrated.

“Percy,” Thalia says tentatively, “What you said about leaving it, forgetting it…no matter what you think about your problems not mattering right now. I want you to forget it.”

“Thalia-“

“No, Percy. Just listen to me, okay?” Thalia pleaded, “I don’t want you to think that you can’t tell me these things- your problems. You’re my friend too.”

“I…” Percy struggled, “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to people knowing about…me. I guess.”

He burned me.

“When people hear about my mom, even when they don’t know where she ended up, they treat me different. They get all nice. And I know that it’s only because they feel bad about me. I just don’t want this to be what this is.”

Thalia couldn’t help but groan. Percy looked at her funny, probably because he didn’t expect a reaction like that. She put a hand on her forehead, feeling a dull headache coming on before she exasperatedly whipped out her spear. The tip of it shot upward like a bullet, and she gripped it forcefully in two hands.

“Percy, we’ve fought and bled together! Did you think I’d be telling you any of this if I was just pitying you? Yeah, maybe I feel bad for you. But that’s just because I know how it feels. I feel like I can understand what it is you’re dealing with. Does that make sense?”

Percy blinked. He looked so genuinely flustered that Thalia felt a strange urge to hug him.

“Do you not get that?” she asked slowly, “Did you not want to be,” she pauses, “y’know, friends?”

He came back to his senses so fast that Thalia felt like she got whiplash. He shook his head quickly and straightened back up, like the thought of them not being friends repulsed him. It lightened her mood almost instantly.

“That’s not it Thalia,” He corrected, “I think you’re my friend too. I want to be friends. I just, didn’t think, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For making you think that I didn’t want to be friends. I do.”

“Good. Like it or not, you and I are stuck together,” Thalia told him, a grin coming to her face, “Got that? No more of this worrying about the prophecy like you or I can’t do it. Because we’ve got each other’s backs now.”

Percy gave her a grudging smile back. She held out her hand and he took it. Thalia recalled when Luke and her had done something very similar, only a few years ago. This time, she hoped it would be enough.

It hurt to breath. It hurt to move. It hurt to think.

Every nerve was alight, every pain receptor firing off at the same time.

How long had she felt like this?

Ten minutes? Ten hours? Ten days?

Her body was like lead. Moving her neck threatened to pull a straining muscle, so she had done nothing but stare down at the black rocks beneath her. Sometimes she thought she could hear footsteps.

How was it she arrived here again?

Right. Luke.

Some Daughter of Wisdom she was. Running over to help him- SAVE him- like some lovesick puppy.

Aren’t you just that? You’re going to beg the gods to spare him, after all.

Shut up. Just bare the weight.

So she did.

It took over a hundred percent of her concentration.

She tried to stop her throat from uttering the pitiful groans and whimpers- they were like broken glass rolling up her throat. Keyword tried. She couldn’t stop them.

Sometimes it got cold. Stupidly cold, to where she thought she might have been dying. But there was snow- at least she was fairly certain it was snow. Her vision might have just been fuzzy. Then voices, on occasion.

There were voices now. She wasn’t alone.

A single voice, loud, booming, like cannon fire. Something softer a moment later, a woman’s voice. They were so far away, so muted.

Focus. You’re Athena’s daughter. Either figure it out or die.

Movement from her peripheral. She took one painful breath to steel herself. She recognized the ratty shoes. It was Luke. They were grimy and wet- definitely snowed on.

He was closer, so his voice was far easier to understand.

“She’s not going to last much longer,” he called mockingly to someone off in the distance, “You’d better hurry.”

She summoned all the strength she had left. She managed to tilt her head up three inches. She saw more movement, a flash of silver.

A woman with auburn hair, chained at the wrists had been tossed to the ground in front of her. Her gown, stylized like the ancient Greeks, glowed like moonlight. Who was she again?

Right. Artemis. They’d imprisoned Artemis.

She dropped her head. Artemis yelled something, righteous fury.

“I said she’s fading,” Luke sneered, “She’ll die any time now. You know what you can do to save her.”

“No…” she muttered, regretting the strain on her voice.

There was the sound of chains snapping. Another flash of silver- before the weight suddenly disappeared as soon as it had come. In an instant, the pain seemed to vanish- leaving her only with crippling exhaustion. It was as though someone had tied weights to each and every limb. She collapsed like a sack of rocks, groaning.

Artemis was imprisoned beneath the sky.

From her place on the ground, eyes wide open, she made out two figures in the fog. Another woman, and a massive, stocky man. The ground was cold, the snow unrelenting. Why was it snowing in California?

Everything started to get further away. Luke said something cruel but it was so hard to hear him.

Then she was in his arms. Luke’s. He had the audacity to smile at her. For a second she saw someone she hadn’t yet forgotten.

“You should be grateful, Annabeth,” Luke said, “Let’s hope you prove useful, one way or another.”

She didn’t have the strength to tell him to go fuck himself. She’d put it on the list of things to do. Right after she found out how to warn her friends.

All things considered, Percy was ready to throw down at Capture the Flag that night.

After the heart-to-heart with Thalia and the whole situation with Annabeth and his mom, he didn’t think his heart would be in it. Then Thalia surprised him by offering to let him be Team Captain.

“You’ve been around a lot longer than me,” Thalia reasoned, “And I’ve got the better shield. It’s best I use it to keep them off the flag.”

“I mean…if you’re sure,” Percy shrugged, “I should be okay on offense. I’ve got a plan. Chiron gave me some advice yesterday that I think might work.”

She didn’t argue. Percy still worried she was just giving him a pity handout but he didn’t want to go over that argument again. Thalia said she understood- wanted to be better friends. So he’d try to be better friends too. Plus, the current team didn’t seem to mind him as leader. If they were gonna beat the Hunters, it was gonna be up to him.

“Just say the word, Percy!” Silena called, placing war paint on her cheekbones and fitting herself into her armor like some kind of highly-tactical supermodel, “I’ll take’em all on myself!”

“Preach, Silena!” Connor Stoll shouted from his spot near the rocks of Zeus’ Fist, “Get’em!”

There was a sharp tap on Percy’s shoulder. He turned to see Drew Tanaka- who he thought was really gorgeous but was also kind of a huge mean girl- also fitted for her armor and glancing at him like he was a strange insect in need of squashing.

“Normally, I’m not one to go and debase myself like this...” she started, before shrugging, “but I’m making an exception in the name of Aphrodite. Just tell me what to do, Jackson.”

Which was yet another big shocker Percy didn’t realize was possible. The hype didn’t end with the Aphrodite kids though. Jake Mason and Charles Beckendorf had crunched overtime to get the armor in perfect order. Sheman and his brother Mark, the Ares kids, had been crushing training dummies all afternoon in preparation.

There were twelve members of Team Half-Blood (his mental name for the group, opposite of Team Hunters) in total. Himself, two Hephaestus kids, Two Hermes kids, Four Aphrodite kids, Thalia, Nico and two Ares kids. That was thirteen, but Nico hardly counted as a teammate. He hadn’t lifted a sword before yesterday. Percy would keep him back on the defensive line- he didn’t want him getting hurt. The Hunters had fourteen in total. Something told Percy that Bianca wouldn’t have any issues with her lack of Hunter experience. Call it a hunch.

“Right, so,” Percy said after clearing his throat, “Fourteen of them, thirteen of us. We’ve got home field advantage. Our base is here at Zeus’ Fist, which unfortunately makes our defenders a bit of a target for Bows. Our real defense is going to be in our offensive push. Thalia, Connor, Travis, and Nico. You’ll play defense. Aphrodite Cabin, how’s your running?”

“Laurel and Jason are great runners!” Silena offered, “Drew and I aren’t too shabby either.”

“I stay in great shape, hon,” Drew deadpanned, boredly staring off at the woods.

“Right…” Percy agreed, “You’ll run intercept then. Keep to the boundaries of the game, whichever said their offense isn’t on. I’m making a bet that they don’t expect much from you guys’ Cabin. My attack team will draw them into a fight near the creek. While we distract them, I want you to rush their base and see if you can’t get their flag. Zigzag, the Hunters are great shots. They’d give Lee and Michael a hell of a run for their money. And uh, Drew…see if you can’t talk a few of them into missing their shots, yeah?”

“I don’t need your permission to work my magic, sweetie,” Drew commented with venom, but anyone could see she was excited, “But I can do that.”

“Oh! Oh!” Nico called out, raising his hand and jumping around like he really needed to hit the bathroom. His helmet was two sizes too big, and his chestplate was almost a skirt from how low it hung on him, “Are you sure I can’t join attack? I want to fight Bianca!”

Nico sounded maybe a little too excited about the prospect of fighting his sister. Awkward looks passed over the Campers faces as they glanced away from him. Percy sighed.

“Not this time, Nico. It’s your first game. We gotta show you the ropes first. Let’s get you at least a little training before we throw you to the Hunters, right?”

Nico looked so disappointed Percy wanted to change his mind. But he stood firm. “C’mon! I’ve got a sword…I’m a demigod, same as you. I can fight!”

“Hey, I know bud. But Capture the Flag is dangerous. The Hunters are pros. I don’t want you out there getting stuck with arrows or anything. Stick with Thalia, you’ll get your chance to fight if the Hunters come knocking.”

Nico looked like a kicked puppy. He stared down at the ground for just a moment, and then suddenly the excitement shot back onto his face as though he had just remembered something. He raised his hand again, which Percy didn’t understand because he already had his attention.

“Uh, yeah Nico? What’s up?”

“Mister Chiron said we can use any magic item we want, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. I don’t have any though Nico,” Percy said, hopeless, “Those are a bit rare around winter.”

“Oh okay. That’s cool! I was just checking!” Nico said with a shuffle, feeling around his chestplate. Percy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion- but Chiron blew his horn, signaling the end of preparations. In later times, he’d wish he had asked Nico what he’d been holding onto.

Percy led the raiding party as soon as Capture the Flag began. He left with the Hephaestus Kids and the Ares Kids, each cabin flanking him on either side. Percy had sent the Aphrodite kids on a blitz rush around either of the Hunt’s flanks. The idea was to distract the Hunt with Percy’s forward charge and keep them too thin to defend their own flag- or too preoccupied to hold up against a Son of Poseidon in the creek.

Nico thought this was so freaking cool.

“Do you think Bianca’s gonna be on attack? Or is she going to defend?” Nico asked Thalia as he peeked out from behind a rock. Their flag was situated atop Zeus’ Fist.

Thalia just shrugged. She looked really cool in her armor, holding her spear and her scary looking shield and all that. Gods, everything about this was so cool, he just couldn’t get over it! It was himself, Thalia, and the Stolls on defense.

“She’s new, like you. If they were smart they’d keep her back, I dunno,” Thalia said, distractedly watching the forest.

Nico wished he knew for sure. But if Bianca was back on defense, and he was back on defense, then she wasn’t going to get to see him with his sword and his armor. Nico wanted her to see him- that way maybe she’d feel bad about going off to join these girl scouts or whatever. What was so cool about them anyway? Swords were so much cooler than bows. Camp was so fun too! Connor and Travis said it was even better in the summer, when more people were around.

He had a plan for how to get to Bianca to really rub it in her face. He just had to time it right. Percy wasn’t the only one on the team with a plan! Nico reached into his shirt to check if it was still there. His hands touched it- the brim of a blue Yankees ball cap. The cool girl, Annabeth, she’d dropped it after she fought the Manticore. Nico just sort of…held onto it. He was going to give it back! But it had turned Annabeth invisible and he didn’t wanna miss out on that.

Suddenly, shouting. There was the sound of clanging, metal-on-metal. The fighting had started! Nico’s helmet was a little too big for him, so he grumbled as he shoved it out of his way for the umpteenth time.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, “Are we winning? Is anyone dead? Wait, can we kill each other?”

“Well, dunno if we’re winning,” Connor replied, “Hopefully no one’s dead. And nah, no killing each other. Not our modus operandi, kiddo.”

“Our what?”

“We’re not out to gut each other. Most of the time,” Travis said, “Most of the time…”

“But like…wouldn’t it be cool if we could just, keep on fighting? Like we come back after we die?”

“Real life, Nico,” Thalia suddenly butt in, “This is real life. These are real swords. A real spear. Real bows and arrows. People die and they don’t come back. It’s not a game.”

Thalia could be really scary when she was mad. But she was still so cool! Nowhere near as scary as Bianca could be so it honestly didn’t faze Nico all that much. The Stolls however, must have been really freaked out because they kept trying to get Nico to stop talking, swiping their hands over their necks in a “cut it out” kind of way. Her being mad was fine- she’d forget it when he went and grabbed the flag.

Thalia glanced to the treeline. She looked all intense- like a superhero. The Stolls went quiet for once, so something must have been happening. Nico tried to see where they were looking but didn’t get what they were all tense about. The Hermes’ twins flanked Thalia, who raised her spear.

“di Angelo,” Thalia addressed, not meeting his gaze, “Unless you want some nasty bruises, you should probably just stand back. Watch and learn and do everything I tell you, got that?”

“Yes ma’am!” Nico grinned. He’d be staying back, alright. Way, way, way back. At the Hunter’s camp!

“Can us three really hold off a Hunter raiding party?” Travis asked hesitantly.

“Artemis made them stupid good at Archery, I think, so I’m just not sure-“

“If I’m leading, we can hold them.” Thalia declared. Nico fought the urge to gush.

Everything got quiet for only a second. Then they heard it. A kind of snapping sound, quick and far off. Faster than thought, Thalia’s shield was up, deflecting an arrow that was moving so fast it shattered on impact.

“Stolls, shields up! Nico, stay down!” Thalia ordered.

Nico slipped behind the rocks with a grin on his face, tossing his helmet to the ground. It clanged off a rock and rolled off somewhere behind one of the Stolls. Now’s my chance! He thought to himself. Instantly he had Annabeth’s cap out and on his head. It was a little big for him, he hadn’t had a lot of time to readjust it. It flopped around but when Nico glanced at his hands he didn’t see anything. Perfectly invisible!

Nico rounded on his heels and broke for the tree line. The attacking Hunters had just entered the clearing as he was leaving it. It was three on three! Nico recognized Percy’s mom, Sally, and that Zoë chick. There was a big Hunter girl with them too, but no Bianca. Thalia and the Stolls could totally handle them! Bianca was somewhere else. Nico kept rushing into the woods.

Where did Percy and the others go? Nico followed the sounds of distant fighting, scrambling over the wet rocks and twigs that made up the forest floor. After a moment, he came across one of the Ares kids, struggling against a bunch of rope that had him pinned to a tree. It was super cool but the guy looked so angry, straining against the ropes. Nico stifled a laugh as he crept up behind the tree where he could see where the knot was.

Nico’s sword was really heavy but he swung it with all his might. With a satisfying THUNK! the ropes dropped off and the Ares kid, Sherman, was free. He looked around confusedly for a minute before shrugging and sprint back off into the woods. Nico struggled to keep pace with him but he had a big smile on his face the whole time.

They found Percy and the attackers by the creek, where Percy was beginning to enact his plan. Beckendorf was there, going Greatsword-against-long-hunting-knife duel with one of the Hunters. Despite his build, Nico could see that Beckendorf was struggling against the much nimbler Hunter. The other Campers were distracted keeping arrows off of them but also trying to lure more Hunters into a fight. Nico decided to help Beckendorf then.

Nico didn’t try to be mean about it but as slowly as he could, he crept up behind the Hunter as she dueled. Watching carefully, he jutted his leg out at the last second and sent her sprawling backward into the mud! The whoop of surprise she let out as she fell was so funny that Nico had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Beckendorf must have assumed she just tripped, because he kicked her now-dropped hunting knife away and held her at sword point.

“What in Artemis’ name…” she growled, confusedly looking around for Nico before she sprung backward and made a retreat into the woods.

“Got her!” Beckendorf called, “But I’m sure she’ll be back!”

“We need to get them closer!” Percy shouted, finally noticing Sherman, “Sherman! How’d you get out?”

“Ask me later, Jackson! How are we supposed to draw them in when they’ve got distance advantage?”

“I…I don’t know!” Percy shouted back, “We’ve never fought so many archers! How many Hunters are on their defense?”

“Eleven!” Nico shouted, unable to stop himself. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice the extra voice amidst the chaos.

“Silena’s probably got her hands full already... Okay, this is as good as we’re gonna get it! I’m gonna do the thing! Everyone form up!”

Nico watched in awe from his safe haven behind a tree. He probably should’ve ran to get the flag but he wanted to see Percy do something cool. Percy raised both of his arms while the other heroes covered him. Something in the scene changed- and Nico realized that the creek had suddenly stopped. Percy was a son of Poseidon! Of course he could control water!

Then a lot happened all at once. The water sprang out of the creek like a tidal wave, the collected water careening out into the woods. It was like a blanket that was seeking out all the Hunters’ positions! As soon as the water was tossed, the Heroes charged. Any Hunter nearby would be soaking wet and cold now! Percy was so cool!

If anyone noticed Nico’s footsteps splashing in the water, no one said anything. Over puddles and slick mud, slushed up piles of unmelted snow, he made his break through the woods. The Hunters began to slow down the heroes with return fire. If Nico didn’t hurry, he might not get the flag before they did. With renewed determination, he decided to break past them.

The sounds of fighting began to grow quieter behind him as he pushed further and further into the woods. All he heard was his breath and his racing heart. The ground became more solid as Nico left Percy’s splash zone. Fortunately, Nico was sure that the Hunters would be so distracted by Percy they wouldn’t see him coming. Just ahead, Nico thought he could see it. A shining flag in an alcove of knocked over old trees. Nico crouched in a bank of unmelted snow behind a tree and looked out.

The flag was a little high up but Nico was sure he could reach it. There was only one Hunter guarding it and with a grin, Nico realized it was Bianca. She wore her hair braided now, showing off her face. She’d always kept her face hidden under her hat for as long as Nico had known her. Seeing her without it made him mad. She looked all taller, prettier, had this cool glowing jacket…no, the jacket wasn’t glowing, Bianca herself was.

That angry feeling swept over him as he stared, watching her stand there like that. For some reason he felt angrier now than he did when Bianca had told him. There was a little voice in his head, digging at him. It told him that she abandoned him, that Nico was a burden to her.

It took her less than an hour to decide to leave you behind.

They weren’t really his thoughts, Nico didn’t know where he had gotten them. That didn’t mean he didn’t agree with them. He was bitter and just so mad at her. The heavy breathing picked up and his heart pounded even harder in his chest. He stood up. He wanted to run forward, swing his sword, scream at her. Anything. Anything could have been better than what he had done last night.

“Listen, Nico,” Bianca told him, shifting around uncomfortably. It had been just before Apollo showed up and Thalia almost killed them, “I have something to tell you.”

“Is it about camp?” Nico asked. In the pit of his stomach, he’d been scared at the idea of Bianca joining the Hunters after Percy’s mom had. Grover had planted that seed just a short while earlier, “Doesn’t it sound really cool? Uh, Grover says they have winged horses!”

Bianca swallowed. Her expression was tight and didn’t waver. Nico’s heart was like a bowling ball in a pond.

“It does sound cool, Nico…but I won’t be staying at camp.”

It was always the two of them, ever since they were little. Since their parents died…since that hotel.

Mother.

Since their Mother died. Nico wasn’t sure how he knew that but it sounded right. Their mother was dead, their father was a god. Somewhere in his gut, Nico knew that to be true. Bianca probably didn’t even care anymore.

Nico steeled himself. If that was how Bianca wanted to be, he’d show her just how better off he was. She could go off and be all immortal and stuff with her new family. Nico was going to be a hero. The flag was his.

Just before he rushed Bianca to take the flag, he stopped. Bianca must have heard him or something, because she stood up and started glancing around. Shoot… She didn’t seem to have him spotted though. Nico tried to stifle his breathing as he crept out from behind his safety spot and made for the flag. She stepped forward, continuing to glance around. He was behind her now, just beneath the flag.

He reached up and his fingers touched the cloth. Grinning, he dragged it down. The pole of the flag dragged along the treebark with a SKRSSH! Presto! The flag disappeared when he grabbed it. Nico turned, hoping Bianca didn’t hear it. Then Nico realized she did hear it.

Bianca had an arrow in her bow, knocked and fired within one second. She was more than fast enough to nail anyone who tried to sneak up on her, Nico included. For a splitsecond, he thought she looked really cool, anger aside. It was only when her fingers slipped off the drawstring did he realize she had shot an arrow at him.

Real bows and arrows. People die and they don’t come back. It’s not a game.

He wished he had listened to Thalia, all of a sudden. The force of the arrow hitting him threw him off his feet and sprawling on his back. He briefly registered his cap falling to the ground and the invisibility leaving him. He could feel the uncomfortable sensation of something in his body, deep in his body, that shouldn’t have been there. The pain rushed in almost immediately after.

He felt all scrambled. He saw Bianca above him, staring down at him in concern. She was saying something but Nico couldn’t hear. In the corner of his vision, he saw the shaft of the arrow sticking up into the sky. He felt like vomiting before a heap of darkness swept in and he knew nothing else.

Percy thought the game was going great up until Bianca di Angelo attempted fratricide.

Percy’s week had already gone from fine to bad to worse to just depressing. He’d been shot at, slashed, stabbed and poisoned. He failed to bring back both demigods to camp, losing one to some girls club. His best friend had been kidnapped while he’d been useless to help her out. He found out his mom had abandoned him to go run around with a goddess and her virgin friends. Zoë Nightshade informed him very nicely that he’d bring the downfall of all western civilization.

So really, you can forgive him for not anticipating the bar to go any lower.

As he mentioned, the game. Flooding the Hunter’s side of the woods was a pretty good idea in his humble opinion. Thalia’s aegis should disorient and hold off any attacking Hunters and this was just the kind of burst of Big-Three-Power that Chiron might’ve been talking about. It definitely threw the Hunters off something bad. Plus it gave him all sorts of puddles to make use of.

The problem with his plan however, was fart arrows.

Fucking fart arrows.

Obnoxious, foul-smelling, out-of-nowhere plumes of methane-smelling yellow smoke that burst from all around them the literal instant Percy thought to himself hey we might actually win this. His whole team was reduced to hacking, sputtering, coughing mess. He was pretty sure Jake almost threw up. All their forward momentum was lost in an instant and the Hunters immediately began to recover. And that was just one Fart Arrow.

“C’mon man-!” Beckendorf coughed, “This ain’t right-!”

“Pull back!” Percy said through his coughs. Forward momentum be damned, Percy could only hope that Silena and her runners had made progress. On the run back they encountered even more trouble in the form of Sherman Yang getting stuck to a tree with a net arrow- again. He told them to go on without him.

The arrows behind them seemed to get lesser as Percy heard screaming. A girl’s? Percy couldn’t tell what it sounded like.

Then he spotted Sally Jackson rushing towards the Creek with their flag in-hand. Zoë Nightshade as with her- perfectly fine. Thalia seemed to be in hot pursuit, Stoll-brothers-less. Great. Percy saw red. His gut twisted as he reached out to the creek. Two separate pillars of water arced out of the creek and shot forward into Sally and Zoë, sending them sprawling before they even realized what was happening.

“Percy, wait-!” Beckendorf said, but Percy was done listening. If he got the flag now, Zoë and Sally would be prisoner. Without their attack team, Percy and Thalia could win the game. Just a few more meters…

He got confused when Thalia, who was closer to the flag than him, burst past it. Zoë and Sally didn’t pay attention to it either. They just kept rushing towards the creek. What was going on?

“Thalia? What are you doing?”

“Behind you!” Thalia called, “Bianca!”

Her eyes were wild. She looked terrified even from a distance. Déjà vu hit him then as he recalled his first Capture the Flag game. He’d been nearly mauled to death by a Hellhound that his ex-friend Luke had brought into the perimeters. Percy survived on luck. Suddenly, the screaming from a second ago seemed a hell of a lot more important. He whipped back around, rushing to see if he could help.

It was worse than he thought. Bianca di Angelo was standing in the creek, screaming. She was carrying a body. Percy already recognized who it was. Nico. How the hell had he gotten over there? Percy left him on the defense line. Breathing grew hard all of a sudden as he rushed to the creek with Thalia at his side. Chiron, Zoë and Sally beat him to the punch, already beside Bianca with grim expressions.

One silver arrow was sprouting from Nico’s body. His eyes were closed. Percy knew he was young but he looked so much smaller in that moment. The water had red mist swirling around it where Bianca was standing. Percy bit back the urge to vomit.

“What did you do?” Thalia asked with hollow voice. She was loud, though, and Bianca glanced up towards her. She looked inconsolable.

“I-I didn’t mean to-“she stammered, “you have to believe me, he was-“

“Shh…” Sally Jackson soothed, voice calm and practiced. Gently she took Bianca in her arms while Zoë worked Nico’s body away from her and into Chiron’s arms, “We believe you. It’s going to be alright, dear.”

It looked pretty bad. The arrow was in deep, right where Percy guessed there was a free spot in Nico’s armor. Nico was only ten. How the hell did he get back here?

Chiron looked up at Bianca, his expression very grim but determined.

“This is a rather painful wound, but he’s still alive. He’s merely unconscious. If I am to help him, I must return to the Big House.” Chiron then turned to address the watching Hunters and Campers, “The game is over! Please, return to your cabins! I will see to mend this accident.”

Chiron stood tall once more, cradling Nico, and at great speed he set off back into the woods towards the Big House. Silence fell over the forest, save for Bianca di Angelo’s terrified cries. Sally Jackson was holding her tightly and Percy tried not to feel weird about that. (But he did.)

“What happened, Bianca? You said it was an accident?” Sally asked gently.

Bianca looked up from her hands. “He was wearing…I don’t even know, he was wearing this hat. He sneaked up on me, I couldn’t see him…! I thought it might have been a monster…!”

Thalia and Percy gasped and shared horrified looks as Bianca pulled out a familiar baseball hat. Annabeth’s Yankees cover. Where in the hell had Nico gotten it from? All this time, Percy had assumed she’d taken it with her when she got caught. Nico had been holding it the whole time?

Zoë’s eyes whipped around on them.

“Thou would send an untrained little boy to steal a flag? He had no idea what he was doing!” She accused, voice harsh. Something about her tone pissed Percy off, and suddenly he could speak again. Thalia had him beat to the punch, however.

“W-We told him to stay back. Percy put him on defense, to stay out of the way. I told him to stay down…”

“Mayhaps thou shouldst pay a greater deal of attention,” Zoë growled, “For I will not have my sister made a murderer for thine follies.”

“Zoë,” Sally interrupted, “It was an accident.”

It was an accident. A terrible one. But it was also Percy’s fault. Percy couldn’t help but blame himself. Why the hell hadn’t he seen Nico clearly planning to do something stupid? They were ADHD Demigods. It was a miracle when they did anything close to plan. He should’ve known Nico would’ve wanted to show up Bianca after she abandoned him. But he’d been so worried about showing up his own mom that he’d overlooked him completely.

Wait.

That’s right.

Bianca abandoned him.

Percy never was very good at keeping his mouth shut.

“You’re blaming us?”

Zoë and Sally locked eyes on him. Thalia turned. His voice must have been pretty harsh.

“Bianca, you go and abandon Nico to join this stupid club…you both find out you’re demigods, that there’s this whole world you’ve been taught to ignore, and you decide to just leave him to it? And when he gets hurt, that’s our fault? That’s how you feel?”

“Watch thyself,” Zoë said warningly, “T’was Bianca’s own decision. I will not have you fault her for it.” If Bianca could look even more mortified than she already was, she did now.

“He wanted to show off! He wanted to beat you! I wonder why! Wonder what he did to get you to drop him like trash, Bianca. Did he ask you how many hitpoints you had? Was that it?” Percy was shouting now.

“Percy. Zoë,” Sally cut back in, “Both of you stop. This is no one’s fault.”

It might’ve ended there if Bianca’s terrified expression didn’t twist. Once again, that expression, that same look she gave him in the tent not so long ago. The face of someone so familiar but Percy could not recall.

“You think I wanted to hurt my little brother? Fuck you! Just because you’re all pissed that I didn’t want to come to your stupid camp?! Don’t act like I owe you everything just because your girlfriend went and threw herself off a cliff! You don’t know me!”

Stupid camp. Threw herself off.

Percy didn’t think to himself “I’m going to splash Bianca with a shit-ton of creek water” before he splashed Bianca with a shit-ton of creek water. It just sort of happened. What might have been hundreds of gallons of water suddenly surged outward from Percy’s feet, throwing Sally, Zoë, and Thalia away from him. Bianca went flat on her back at the other side of the creek.

The weight of what he had just done suddenly whipped back into him. He hadn’t even thought about it before he’d done it. He glanced around him, confusedly. It reminded him of when he had fought the Minotaur. Everything felt slow-motion. He couldn’t even mutter out an apology.

He caught sight of Sally Jackson’s eyes.

He was a little kid again, waiting for her to chide him for getting in fights with kids on the playground.

She left because you do this shit, you know.

Some things don’t change.

That was when things somehow got worse.

Bianca di Angelo was on her feet now, expression unreadable. He saw a fire in her eyes he’d seen only once before. It all came back to him at once. Everyone felt the earth begin to tremble. Somehow, everyone sensed something big was about to happen. With a stare somehow colder than winter but blazing hotter than Apollo’s Maserati, she raised both of her hands.

From her feet, a crack in the earth opened. The creek split in two, water rushing down into a cavernous pit tumbling down like a waterfall into an inky black void. Dazed as he was, Percy might’ve fallen in. Someone tackled him out of the way, though. He was glad they had. With almost no time in between the ground splitting open and Percy hitting the ground, a heat washed over all surrounding campers and Hunters.

The black forest lit up in a terrible shade of red. From Bianca’s ravine came fire. It was so red, so luminescent, and so hot that Percy saw steam coming off of the Hunters clothes. People screamed and scrambled away. The rushing flames was like the winds of a hurricane. Percy could hardly a thing over it. Percy had never seen a demigod power like this before. And yet he knew exactly what it meant.

Almost as soon as it had started, it seemed to end. The fire faded away, leaving all parties temporarily night blind. Whoever had tackled Percy had been holding him tightly against the ground. Percy tried to blink the spots out of his eyes as he looked at who it was.

“Are you okay?” Sally Jackson asked him.

That was three times now she’d saved him from probably getting himself killed.

“Uh. Yeah.” Was all he could say before he quickly got to his feet. The vision problems were fading now. The creek had nearly run dry. Where the rift had opened, it had now closed. It looked like one of the Olympians had taken a sharpie marker and drawn a line across the creek. Bianca was at the other side of the line, collapsed to the ground.

All the anger from before in her eyes was gone. She just looked horrified again. Percy was reminded of when he had unintentionally used his powers as a kid. Even just now. Even he forgot how angry he was a second ago. Now he just felt really shitty.

“Have we fucking calmed down?” Thalia snarled at the two of them. She’d placed herself between some of the campers and the flames with Aegis to ward off the fire.

“The flames…the flames of the Fields of Punishment…” Zoë Nightshade uttered, looking at Bianca with a look she couldn’t quite place.

How had Percy not been able to tell from just a look?

“I don’t know how I…Percy, I didn’t mean to-“

“Bianca.” Percy cut her off, which might have been rude, but he was staring at a spot just above Bianca’s head, “Look.”

A ghostly light had taken over the top of Bianca’s head, like a halo. It was white but outlined in shadows as black as the dark side of the moon. It showed a staff, pronged at two ends. A bident. Just behind it, there was a tree. A strange, white tree was imposed behind it. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had just happened.

“Bianca di Angelo. Sister,” Zoë Nightshade spoke, eyes wide, “Thy parent... Thou art a child of Hades. Lord of the Underworld.”

Chapter Text

Sometimes I think it's getting better

But then it gets much worse

Is it just part of the process?

Jesus Christ, it hurts

“Good evening, daughter of Athena.”

You would think the benefit of being in California would be warmth, even if you were locked in a cell made of black rock. Like most of her week so far, it just wasn’t to be. It was freezing cold most of the time. The meagre blanket, more like a torn sleeping bag, was the only thing keeping her from death by frostbite, she was pretty sure. The cold wouldn’t be a damn problem if it weren’t for the bitch currently sitting outside the bars of her cell, watching her like she was an ant in an ant farm.

She was impossibly beautiful, which tipped Annabeth off that she wasn’t mortal immediately. With pitch black hair that stood out completely stark against her corpse-like pallor, she wore a grey dress the same color as winter stormclouds. Her blue eyes were like the color of the Arctic Ocean. If Annabeth had half a brain, which she was currently doubting since her stint under the sky, she would guess that this was the Snow Goddess, Khione.

“I am Khione,” Khione confirmed, conveniently, as though she could read Annabeth’s thoughts. “Are you comfortable?”

Daughter of Boreas, the North Wind. Annabeth’s mind whispered, among the most minor of minor goddesses, are minor gods joining the Titans now? 

“No.”

“Good. I should hope not. My element is not meant to be as such.” The goddess replied, the barest hint of a lilt to her voice that Annabeth barely caught. She was teasing her. The anger she felt was a good distraction from the depressing atmosphere.

“What do you want?” Annabeth asked, “Did you throw your lot in with the Titans, then?”

“Indeed,” Khione agreed, “An easy decision to make, when your little friend Luke made his offer.”

“He’s not my friend.” Annabeth snapped immediately. Khione almost smiled then. Annabeth could see the smugness in her icy blues.

“So you say, yet you rushed so desperately to his side when you saw his pain," Khione drawled, looking at her nails like Annabeth was no more interesting than a rock on a bed of gravel. Then her eyes tilted back up, and that almost-smile returned. 

"Perhaps he is something more than a friend, then, hm?”

If Annabeth hadn’t already spent hours trying to kick the black rock bars that made up her cell down, she might have tried to strangle the snowy witch through the bars. Khione saw the defeat in her eyes and tilted her head higher in victory.

This was bad. Ever since she’d been stuck in here, it’d been one set of bad news after another. Luke was in danger, Kronos had something planned for him. Minor gods were switching sides, throwing their lot in with the Titans. Artemis, one of the only worthwhile Olympians was pinned beneath the sky. Above it all, she was stuck here alone with no knife, no invisibility hat, no Percy-doing-something-stupid-but-brave-and-helpful and no Thalia.

All she had was her wits and she’d practically abandoned wisdom when she took the sky. At least she was alive. Truthfully she’s not even sure how she did it. Annabeth was strong, she was sure of that, but she was no Heracles. (Maybe raising the sky was more a spiritual thing. Whatever. Not important.) The important thing was getting out and freeing Artemis, or at least warning Camp.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Annabeth said bitterly, “What do you want?”

Khione considered this, then shrugged. “I just thought I would inform you of the goings on in the outside world. Don’t you want to hear what is happening with your friends?”

Annabeth didn’t respond. Truthfully she’d been worried about what had become of her friends after Thorn had dragged her away. She knew they were more than likely fine- Artemis had shown up with their Hunters at the last minute. It was more than likely they had made it to Camp by now, if she was feeling generous. Still, something about leaving Percy with the Hunters didn’t sit right with her.

She knew the Khione wouldn’t wait for a yes or no answer. And she didn’t. With the barest hinges of smugness in that soft, smooth voice, Khione continued.

“They know Artemis is in danger. I suspect a quest for her safety is only hours away. Such a delicious bait the General has brought to bear. No doubt your camp will send only the best and brightest Heroes directly into our trap."

"If you're trying to piss me off, it's not gonna work," Annabeth snapped, cutting her off, "You're not half as good at head games as you think." 

"Non? But that is far from the most interesting part…" Khione chuckled, "We must thank you for your rescue mission, daughter of Athena. Because for the first time in nearly a hundred years, the children of the eldest brothers have gathered at Camp Half-Blood.”

Annabeth’s heart stopped and restarted in that instant. Khione saw her brief shock.

“That’s right. You see now. The demigods you rescued the other night? Such a surprise to find that they are children of Hades. The eldest girl, she’s thrown her lot in with the Hunt. Unfortunate but not unexpected. After all, there’s still her little brother.”

Khione smiled, a real smile, finally. It was deeply unsettling.

“A daughter of Zeus who yearns for Power. A son of Hades who finds himself alone in a world only he can know. And the son of Poseidon, well. Luke’s certainly taken a renewed interest in him.

“What are you doing to him?” Annabeth found herself snarling. She didn’t want to talk, or get heated. Something about the way she mentioned Percy brought cold dread into her veins. Khione’s smile never wavered.

“Haven’t you heard? The poor boy found his mother. 

Against news like that, Annabeth couldn’t hide her horrified look, nor could she turn away from Khione then. A spy in Camp, some Titan trick, there was no way they should’ve known any of this. And yet it made perfect sense. Annabeth had met Hades only a year and a half prior. Why hadn’t she recognized the children for what they were? And Percy…

"After years of searching and wondering, praying and hoping, she abandoned him. Running around with the Hunt all along, it seems.” Khione shrugged, though Annabeth could tell her nonchalance was all fake.

Oh, gods of Olympus. What was Percy going through now? His mother was the most important thing in the world to him. She’d been a Hunter of Artemis this entire time? How did that even work? She’d met the Hunters before, that didn’t make-

Sally. Of course it was Sally. Thalia had mentioned something about her story but Annabeth had never even considered the possibility. All Annabeth had known was that she’d left her family behind. Artemis never allowed non-maidens in her circle. After the Hunters saved them on the run, Grover had shown up…that was the last Annabeth had really thought about them for some time. Not until recently.

“That makes so many times The Olympians have toyed with his emotions… These three will certainly have some choices to make. Luke seemed so intent on trying to bring the daughter of Zeus into the fold…but such amusing things have occurred. Perhaps Percy Jackson will be more willing to come into Lord Kronos’ good graces if we offer him the chance to right the wrongs done to his person.”

“Percy would never,” Annabeth growled, “ever side with you. You don’t know anything about him.

“Non?” Khione teased, “And tell me, little girl…if Perseus Jackson had to make a choice between those he loved and Olympus? What do you think he might do?”

Once again, stunned silence. Of all the things they couldn’t possibly know, Percy’s fatal flaw. But she put it into words so eloquently, with so much finality, that Annabeth immediately knew what they were planning. She needed to get out of this prison cell, as soon as possible. There had to be some way to do so, of that she was certain.

Luke wanted one of the children of Prophecy, no, Kronos wanted one of them. Thalia, Percy, or Nico di Angelo. Bianca di Angelo, maybe, but she was a Hunter now. Any three of them could be the child of the Great Prophecy. With all three of them around, Kronos wanted to know for sure. That’s what this was all about. The Quest for Artemis was a way to prune the tree. It was terrifying, because Annabeth had seen what Percy’s deepest desires had been when it came to loyalty. She’d been stupid enough to let him listen to the Sirens. In the worst nights, she still had nightmares of that day.

They’d borrowed Blackbeard’s ship- Annabeth still wasn’t sure how the son of Ares had wound up on Circe’s island after being executed- and set out on the search for Grover once again. Percy didn’t want to talk about what had happened on Circe’s island, for that she couldn’t much blame him. The sorceress had let them go without much of an explanation as to why. Annabeth had returned to “C.C’s” office as soon as she put two-and-two together, only to find a strangely solemn witch and the son of Poseidon in a funk.

To this day, Percy hadn’t explained what had happened in that office. Annabeth suspected it had something to do with the fact they’d been so hungry they’d eaten Hermes’ Multivitamins- last she heard of the woman, she turned people into pigs. Men, mostly. But Percy seemed fine, more just a little out of it than anything else. He had a habit of not talking about what bothered him.

Circe had let them take the Queen Anne’s Revenge back to sea after Percy gave it a quick wash-up. He’d said all the commands verbally. Swab the deck, raise the sails, etcetera as though he had been born to sail. Which…she supposed he had. The closer they got to the island of the Sirens, the quieter Percy got until he made his request.

“I want to listen to them,” Percy shrugged, “The Sirens song. If that’s okay.”

“Is that really a good idea?” Annabeth had asked, “I can’t sail this thing. Odysseus needed to be tied down to his own mast to keep from throwing himself overboard, Percy…”

“I just-“ Percy sighed, “In a few years, I’m going to have to-“ he trailed off, weighing what he had to say as though admitting it was hard, “everything’s riding on us, Annabeth. My decision, to save or destroy. I need to know.”

“What did Circe say to you, Percy?”

“That’s not important,” Percy shrugged, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You never want to talk about it.” Annabeth pointed out gently. It was maybe rude to say, but it was true. Seaweed Brain was her best friend and she wasn’t a fan of being shut out. Percy gave her a pleading look.

“Later. We can talk about it later. I just need to do this, Annabeth.”

So she’d agreed. Stupidly, she’d agreed. Tying Percy to a mast was a weird experience, as was gagging him. She’d joked about maybe zipping his mouth shut to keep some of his wisecracks to himself- but that was jokes. This was real. And right now she could go for some of his dumb humor. All she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears and the quiet ringing most people recognize as white noise. She took the wheel with some instruction on his part and pressed forward.

She wasn’t sure how the Sirens knew when to start singing. Did they sing always, waiting for prey? Or could they just smell them from miles away, like sharks and blood? Annabeth wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer to that one. She just kept on steering ahead. She made sure to tie Percy somewhere in-sight, in case he made the mind-addled decision to somehow escape his bonds. Now she was regretting it.

On the main deck she could see him thrashing about against his gag and bonds. It was fortunate that she’d kept his arms away from his pockets, where she knew his sword would be. She’d known him- not for a very long time admittedly- but he was her best friend, definitely. She hadn’t considered how painful it would be to see him look the way he did now. She’d never seen him cry before. But there he was, straining against his ropes, tears flowing like rivers. Her own eyes got a little misty. She was incredibly tempted to go down and cut him free but she knew she had to keep sailing.

Then the helm turned against her. They were angled to miss the island, an easy sail-by at a safe distance of close to a thousand yards. The island was just a misty crag of rocks in the distance. Yet, like a magnet, the helm began to turn them sharp to port, nearly throwing her off the ship, and Annabeth fought to twist the wheel back on course. Percy must have been willing the boat to follow his commands instead of speaking to it. She cursed in her own head, realizing that the only way out of their current predicament would be to throw wax in Percy’s ears.

Trying to fight the wheel was like resisting a hydraulic press. Her only hope was the wax. She’d already made two balls of the stuff, ready to be thrown into Percy’s ears as soon as it became necessary. So she left the wheel to itself and ran down the steps towards the main deck.

She came face to face with Percy, already halfway out of his bonds. How the hell had he done that? She glimpsed his wrist- bloody and red- and decided not to think about it for fear of throwing up. She picked up the pace before a massive wave rocked the side of the ship, pitching her to the deck. By then, Percy had already broken his next bond. Annabeth dragged herself to her feet, wax clenched in her hands.

Son of Poseidon or not, Annabeth had trained for six years to be faster, better. Percy Jackson was her best damn friend in this stupid world they found themselves in. She was not going to let him get mauled by a pack of birds with half-decent voices. She took off like an Olympic runner and rushed after him. She was acting on autopilot. She had no chance of out-swimming him, not in a million years, but if she could out-sprint him they might have a chance. Percy made it to the life rails and hopped them like a fence. Annabeth threw herself forward like a diver, arms spread out to grab Percy as soon as she could.

If you’ve ever jumped from thirty feet off a ship in the middle of the ocean- it’s not a fun experience. Especially next to an island of man-eating birds surrounded by rocks sharp enough to shave with. You go from the roller-coaster like drop off the side of the vessel- a drop that lasts maybe just a little too long- before you slam against the water like a rock. If you haven’t already lost your breath yet, you might then. Even if you had somehow done all that, you probably didn’t factor in needing to hold on to Percy Jackson, whose strength doubles in the ocean.

It was like trying to catch a greased pig but harder. If she hadn’t grabbed him before he hit the water, Annabeth was sure they’d both be dead by now. Fortunately, she got her arms around his waist just before they hit, and managed to hold on. He thrashed and kicked, manipulating the currents to drag them forward at speeds that made Olympic swimmers look like worms on dry land.

The worst part was when she took hold of him- she could see what he could see. Percy’s home. Camp Half-Blood, but something was wrong. She saw herself there, smiling the way she normally does when she’s teasing Percy about something. Grover was there too, taking a bite out of what looked like expensive silverware. She recognized all sorts of faces, wandering around, looking happy to be there. So what was so wrong with all this?

She realized it after a moment- the skyline. The Manhattan skyline was clearly visible, which normally wasn’t possible from Camp Half-Blood. You couldn’t see Olympus from the ground but you could now. Annabeth had only visited Olympus once, the winter Luke stole the bolt. She recalled the massive lights, the busy streets, full and bustling with minor gods and spirits. Now it was gone.

There were no temples, no lights, nothing of the sort. It was a husk- just an unimpressive slab of ancient stone. In turn for this moment, Percy had destroyed Olympus, she realized. And as Percy looked away from it, Annabeth instead caught a glimpse of a familiar looking woman with chocolate curls and blue eyes. She couldn’t take it anymore.

Dragging her way up his struggling frame, only yards from the island where human remains littered the floor like a rug, she clapped her balls of wax over his ears before he could struggle anymore. Viciously, she kicked away, wrapping her arms under his as his struggling grew weaker.

“I need you to move, Percy!” she yelled over the salty waves, “Get the boat away from the rocks! It’s okay!”

She wasn’t sure how much he heard. He was still fighting back- as he always would. He was stubborn that way. With a groan of effort, Annabeth hugged him tighter and forced him underneath her. She took a breath and followed him beneath the waves, struggling to keep him down. He pushed so hard against her- his head breaking the waves once or twice. But the wax had confused him, broken his concentration. Underwater, where the song was muffled, it was quiet. The illusion broke. The water was green and murky, but for a second she caught his eyes. In them, there was only terror.

Percy understood what had happened and where he was then. He turned away from her but stopped trying to shake her off. He reached his hand out to the ship, now dangerously close to the rocks. Fortunately- though probably impossibly by mortal standards- it completely shifted directions at the last possible second and began to drift further from the island.

Annabeth tapped Percy’s shoulders. She was thankful for the boat- but he was a son of Poseidon and she wasn’t. She couldn’t Spongebob her way around on the bottom of the ocean. Thousands of little bubbles appeared from the ocean depths, surrounding them as they moved further and further from the island. She could feel water separate from her skin, finding herself in a bubble of water. She sucked in a deep breath.

“Percy? Are you okay?” she asked, trying to get him to look at her.

“We need to get back to a…” he wavered at the “a”, not meeting her gaze before he tried to steel his voice, “a safe distance. So we can’t hear them anymore.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Annabeth said quietly, “Could you look at me?"

He did, after a moment. He looked like he was trying to fight back tears. It was so unlike the boy she’d met last summer that she involuntarily gasped.

“I-“ he tried to say, “I destroyed it. I made m-my choice. Did you see it? I just wanted…”

Then he started crying for real. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he had seen and what he had to do to get it. She remembered the dance, just a short few days prior. I’m supposed to be better than this. I gave up everything for a chance to see her again. Khione chuckled.

“Yes. I am quite looking forward to this. I do hope you are around to see it. For now, though, I leave. I am to meet them along their journey, you know.”

“Percy defeated Ares,” Annabeth growled, “You think he’s scared of a D-Lister? You don’t know anything about him.”

Khione was unaffected. “No. Perhaps not. But I know what happens to water in the biting cold. Goodbye for now, Annabeth Chase.”

The snow goddess left but the cold remained.

“How is she?” Luke asked from his spot at the council table. He did not look up from the map to meet Khione’s gaze as she seemingly drifted into his cabin. The Princess Andromeda rocked back and forth listlessly as it made its way towards the Panama Canal. The son of Hermes found himself back aboard the ship for just a few hours that day- before he was to meet Atlas in Washington D.C.

He didn’t like the idea of leaving Annabeth unguarded on Mount Othrys but he had no real choice in the matter. Luke didn’t have any room for any choices, lately, he realized bitterly. Memories of Jackson and the brethren of Chiron humiliating him last summer floated into his subconscious but he forced them out, turned his gaze towards the pale goddess. She’d only come to the service of Kronos a month ago. Technically she served him but gods and goddesses were prideful and arrogant. Despite his position, Kronos did not stand for Luke’s failures. All he really had any authority to do nowadays was bully dimwitted beasts and demigods.

Khione knew this and only indulged him in orders when she felt like it. It was always hard to tell what the goddess was feeling. Just moments ago he’d sent her to check on Annabeth, hence her return.

“She is fine. Cold, of course, but fine. She had many humorous things to say…”

“You didn’t go mouthing off important information, did you? She’s a daughter of Athena. You shouldn’t underestimate her.”

Khione’s smile was small and challenging.

“Like you have done twice now?”

“What did you tell her?” Luke found himself growling, composure slipping. He was supposed to be more collected than this- but the arrogant D-List goddess really pissed him off more than any cannibal or telekhine.

“So angry.” Khione laughed, “I merely informed her of what we intend to do. She cannot seriously mount any sort of escape, not in that place. She was quite defensive of the son of Poseidon, if I had to say so.”

That turned his stomach a bit. Their plan was tight and solid. Three Big Three kids with good reason to hate the world around them? Three was a high number in Demigod standards. If it wasn’t gonna be Percy, there was still Thalia or Nico di Angelo. Vice versa, it could’ve been the others. There was always the possibility of failure, however, Luke had been upset to learn this two summers in a row now. Dumb luck, the first summer had been. Dumb luck that Jackson escaped the scorpion’s venom, dumb luck that he had given the flying shoes to Grover, dumb luck that Ares had broken free of Kronos’ influence at the last minute.

The second summer wasn’t the same. Luke had been out-smarted, no other way around it. Jackson warned the entire Camp about him, told an Olympian what he’d done to his face, and got him to waste a hell of a lot of time trying to kill him. Rumors were circulating that Percy might’ve already surpassed him as a swordsman after a mere year at Camp. Kronos wasn’t happy with Luke, not at all. The nightmares after the fact were indescribable. Come to discover a mere few weeks ago, Kronos had given the position of General to Atlas the Titan.

The irony of needing to bear the sky was not lost on Luke. A few years after he’d been ordered to steal from the Garden of the Hesperides, he’d returned to complete another Labor long finished by Heracles. Luke didn’t doubt that Kronos had intended that for him. At least Annabeth had been quick about helping him out. That was one thing he could predict, at least- Annabeth still cared about him.

Still, manipulating her in a moment of confusion was one thing. Leaving her alone to think and plot was another. Thinking and plotting was Athena’s entire thing. It was like selling your own weapons to an enemy and hoping they wouldn’t use them. Luke grunted.

“Don’t go mouthing off to anyone else. They’re more dangerous than you think. Especially Jackson,” he warned, looking away as she treated the whole situation as if it were a joke.

“Tell me whom you think it will be.” she stated plainly. The walls became coated in frost. In annoyance, Luke reached over and cranked the heater up a couple notches. Then he refocused on her.

“Who do I think what will be?”

“Which of their spawn is going to sacrifice the beast?” Khione asked pointedly, “You must have a preference on whom I deliver to Lord Kronos first.”

It was a fair question. It probably shouldn’t have been one he opted to share with a sociopath like Khione but he seriously considered her words. Luke had never even witnessed the Ophiotaurus- Atlas had told him not to even worry about it. A beast of such innocence and hidden power that it’s sacrifice would grant any who did away with it the power to swat gods like gnats. It was so simple and powerful a tool that Luke was honestly impressed.

Luke wanted to do it himself. If they’d just smarten up and hand him the stupid cow, he’d gut it and have it roasting in seconds. No, Lord Kronos had said, his place was somewhere else. Only one of the three would be able to call the beast to them. Their searching had turned up nothing, unfortunate as it were. Luke remembered reaching out to the ocean, waiting, hoping that their intelligence was wrong and that he could call it. Nothing happened, he just looked like a moron.

Khione was needed for this. Being able to freeze any of the three solid and travel mostly anywhere made for an incredibly resourceful ally, even if Luke was fairly certain she would just as soon freeze him as she would any other enemy. But he was getting ahead of himself. He placed his hands folded beneath his chin as he stared at the desk in front of him. His gut wanted him to say Thalia.

Thalia Grace, his old friend. The daughter of Zeus he had spent years travelling the country with before they had found their way to Camp Half-Blood. They spent their days fending off monsters, finding warm places to sleep, scavenging for food, avoiding cops... cursing their parents. The late night conversations they’d had for so long, cursing their own existence and wondering to one another why their fathers never sent help, never offered any sort of guide or safeguard from their situation. She was the greatest friend a guy could ask for.

Then she died. She turned tail when Luke was too injured to fight back, Annabeth too young and Grover too unskilled. Alone she fought an army of monsters sent by Hades and died for it. Only when she was inches from her own demise did Zeus bother to do anything helpful. Did he memorialize her in the stars? Grant her immortality, send her to safety? No. He turned her into a fucking tree.

The tallest one around, a great big pine that everyone could see form nearly anywhere in the camp. It was amazing. Luke could glance up when he was eating, training, sleeping, and see his best friend’s corpse forever memorialized as a great un-moving lifeless chunk of wood and needles. Brilliant. Maybe she wouldn’t have had to die if the gods weren’t worthless and cruel. Maybe if Grover hadn’t gotten them all turned around on their trip to Camp.  Maybe if Luke had just been stronger.

When the plan to destroy Camp was formulated last summer, Luke was more than happy to poison Thalia’s pine himself. Chris Rodriguez, his brother, had asked him if he felt weird about it since Thalia was once his friend. The answer was simple- Thalia wasn’t there anymore. It was just a tree. It had none of her life, that tough-as-nails approach she took to everything, her humor, her taste in music, her laugh. It was like cutting out your own heart and trying to replace it with an appendix. So of course he poisoned it, why wouldn’t he?

But then it got worse. For six years he’d seen the tree as nothing more than a boundary marker, the spot where his friend died, a husk. When he failed to bring back the Golden Fleece, when Jackson and Annabeth had returned it to Camp and put it on the damn pine, the last thing in the world he had anticipated was Thalia coming back. But she had.

He’d spat on her grave, not knowing that she was only sleeping.

He’d face her if he had to. She might see his way of thinking. But she fought for the gods now, that much was obvious. She’d be indoctrinated to Annabeth’s way of thinking by now if he had to guess- not to mention she might even remember what Luke had done despite being a tree. There was Percy Jackson and Clarisse la Rue as well, who’d saved her life with the Golden Fleece by working together. Luke wouldn’t make a single step of progress in bringing her over if he had to explain his actions he’d taken on her life, unwittingly.

Percy Jackson, though.

From what Silena Beauregard had passed to them, he was having an interesting week. Loyalty, Lord Kronos had told him, was his fatal flaw. It was another good reason he’d decided to hold onto Annabeth. Percy would come for her, that much he was certain. If he had half a brain, he would guess that Percy already had dreams of where she was. That would make it too easy. His best friend was in danger, always a good motivator, but it was the other bit of juicy information that had Luke reassessing his options.

Sally, the Hunter he’d met on his journeys with Thalia, was Percy Jackson’s mother. She’d abandoned him for years, never admitting to her location until only days ago. She’d sworn eternal loyalty to an Olympian over the raising and upkeep of the son of Poseidon. They had Artemis, her matron, in captivity, restrained and pinned beneath and endless sky. If the Hunt came for her, it was predicted that the campers would travel with them as well. Hypothetically speaking that put Percy Jackson and his mother, who’d abandoned him, on the same slow boat to Mount Othrys whenever their quest began.

Thalia had told Luke Sally’s story detail for detail. It’d been years but Luke remembered. It was truly not something someone just forgot. It was a selfish action fit for any Greek deity. It wasn’t fun to hear at the time but now he was thankful for it.

He could take from Sally Jackson’s betrayal and try once more to appeal to the son of Poseidon. It was perfect really. It was necessary, if he was to escape what was coming.

Would Jackson understand now, the cruelty of the gods? If he came forward and told her story, spoke with Percy alone, offered him the Ophiotaurus as a chance to fix it…could he avoid the fate Lord Kronos had laid out for him? A strange determination overtook him then. They’d had their clashes, sure. Percy hated Luke, fine. But with the right strings pulled, a puppet could do anything. And Kronos considered Percy Jackson a very useful puppet.

“I’ll speak with Jackson myself,” Luke admitted, “Freeze him but let him speak. I think I know how to handle him. If not, keep Thalia on ice too.”

“Very well,” Khione nodded, indifferent to the seriousness of his order, “And the Hunters?”

Luke snorted.

“The General has express interest in Zoë Nightshade. Depending on whoever goes, I’m sure he’ll set our new friend on them. They have a history, you see."

“That misogynistic oaf?” Khione said with clear displeasure. Luke shrugged.

“I see he’s already made an impression on you. He was the only one who could’ve helped us net Artemis. We’ll make good use of him, I suppose.”

“All he’s been doing since is bragging about it on the internet…” she grumbled, “On the message board. The one with the men who cannot find dates?”

Luke tried to get the image of the Bane of Artemis using r/braincel out of his mind. The way of the Greek world and how it blended into modern society truly baffled him sometimes. He just shook his head and went back to looking at maps.

It was easier than thinking about what might happen to him if he failed.

The Oracle just made their night worse.

After Bianca di Angelo- who was Hades’ daughter apparently because that’s just peachy keen- nearly banished Percy to the endless abyss that was The Underworld because of their shouting match, she’d collapsed from exhaustion and needed to be dragged to the infirmary as well. Percy and Thalia were already making their way to the Big House to check on Nico anyways, which made for a very angry, confused, and awkward group of Hunters and Campers.

Sally Jackson and Zoë Nightshade were supporting a slightly delirious Bianca di Angelo while Grover joined them on the walk back to hear what had been going on. Upon the realization that he’d discovered yet another Big Three kid, he paled significantly and nearly ate a face full of dirt but he recovered last second and kept pace with them.

“That means Nico is…” Grover mumbled, “Oh man. The Prophecy-!”

“Not a godsdamn word about the Prophecy, Goat Boy,” Thalia groaned, “Not right now. Please.”

Grover was right though. Bianca was a Hunter now- she’d never turn sixteen. But prophecies worked in mysterious ways. Percy hadn’t even heard the whole thing yet. That meant it could be Thalia, himself, Nico, or Bianca. He wondered if there were any other Big Three kids lurking around. Grover seemed to be pretty good at tracking them down, maybe he’d dig up another one in the next couple weeks.

Percy had met Hades. He’d sent legions of Monsters after him and Thalia for their mere existence, all because Zeus and Poseidon had broken their oaths on the River Styx not to sire more children. Percy remembered the Fury in his school, pretending to be his math teacher. He remembered the Minotaur that pursued them for miles. Thalia didn’t even make it to camp because of an army of Hellhounds. He knew gods could be hypocritical, foolish, general dickheads. This was a little further beyond the line than he’d envisioned, however.

Bianca was a Hunter now, she’d be under the protection of a goddess for however long her immortal life lasted. She was a child of Hades, one of the Big Three. She was already insanely powerful, even if she got woozy after trying to banish people. She’d live for thousands of years, if the Fates allowed it. And by staying twelve permanently, she’d likely gone and dodged a prophecy that Percy had been dreading for years. It added a completely new level to her decision to drop Nico. Irrational, bitter anger bubbled up inside him again.

A horrible thought occurred to him in that moment, concerning the prophecy and his mom. It had been digging at him since Zoë Nightshade had told him about her dream where he destroyed the world. History was repeating itself, it felt like, with Bianca and Nico.

Sally had to have known about the Great Prophecy, right?

Percy doubted he’d ever ask to her face why she joined the Hunt. Why should he? He could see it all clearly from where he was standing. He was a troublemaker before the first grade, he attracted monsters like flypaper, and he was the reason the world was probably going to be destroyed. So when someone came and offered eternal life and free gig away from an abusive husband and the complete moron of a son that was Percy? That must have been a pretty easy decision to make.

He tried not to look pissed as he glanced over at the Hunters but he was sure he was. To be honest, he didn’t think he’d stopped being angry since Annabeth was kidnapped by a manticore. It was hard not to, with everything that was happening. What was it Zoë had said? A decision made in righteous fury. He couldn’t afford to let himself get swept up in it. He was Prophecy child, whether he liked it or not.

He didn’t care if it was Thalia, or if it was Nico or Bianca. He wouldn’t let the task fall to Thalia- she’d already given her life once. Nico was ten years old. And he wouldn’t wish death on anyone- not really- just because they made their own decision. Bianca didn’t deserve the prophecy either. As angry as he was, she’d only discovered the Greek world barely two days ago.

He was going to be the child of Prophecy, he knew that. He’d made his peace with that before Thalia had come into the picture. The problem was how uncertain he was. Everyone around him thought it might’ve been Thalia. Even people he didn’t know, like Zoë Nightshade, were certain that even if it was him, he’d make the wrong decision. He could perfectly see it now, why Sally Jackson had jumped ship. Why waste time raising someone who was inevitably going to fuck-up the entire world?

You’re self-pitying again, his brain seemed to whisper to him, grow up.

He was Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon. Was he terrified that Zoë Nightshade was telling the truth? Was he angry at his mother? Did he, above anything else, want his mother back? Sure. Whatever. Demigods don’t get what they want. That was the way of things. If he didn’t want the Great Prophecy, he was sure it would’ve come to him anyway. For better or worse, he’d make it his burden.

He turned his brain off and just tried to focus on what was ahead. Every time something major happened at camp, there was a visit from the oracle. He wouldn’t be surprised if Chiron sent them up to the attic as soon as they arrived. He couldn’t wait to see who the Quest was for.

Zoë Nightshade.

Nico was fine, stable. He’d lost blood but it was nothing a few days rest with some Nectar and Ambrosia couldn’t fix. Bianca di Angelo had been resting in a bed next to her brother in the infirmary while Percy and Thalia explained the situation with Nico and Bianca’s parentage. (He’d never seen Chiron go quite so pale before. He’d never heard Dionysus laugh quite so sarcastically either.) Poor Bianca had almost had a heart attack when the Oracle decided to just…come downstairs and say hi to them in the infirmary. It was Zoë Nightshade it was looking for. She asked about Artemis.

That was how Thalia and Percy found themselves lugging the mummified corpse of the Oracle up into the attic again. Believe it or not, it was heavier than it looked. Like someone had stuffed sandbags in the tie-dye sack dress it always wore. It was a good distraction from whatever the Oracle had just decided to spout. There was a lot more death this go-around than before. But that could wait. Corpse-lugging came first.

“Watch it!” Thalia called as Percy pulled the ladder down from the attic. (Why the Oracle closed it on her way down, Percy didn’t want to know.) Either way, the stairway shot down crazy fast with a fierce *SQUEAK!* sound and nearly knocked his head off if Percy hadn’t flusteredly shoved the Oracle in its path.

“Percy, oh my gods!” Thalia cried from somewhere down near the Oracle’s legs, “Did you just use our Oracle as a meat shield?”

“Hey, it’s only fair! We have to lug her don’t we?” Percy defended himself before glancing at the sunken skeletal face of the oracle. “Did I break anything?”

Thalia scanned over it from where she was standing. She looked confused and indifferent, “You know, to be honest, I don’t think I’d be able to tell if you did.”

It wasn’t much of a relief but at least it was one. Together, with great difficulty, they managed to drag the Oracle up into the dark attic. The only source of light was an ancient glass bulb that was activated by an equally ancient string. It turned on when Percy pulled it- but the string snapped off as well. Yellow light cascaded across the rows and rows of spoils of war and treasures from demigods past.

They set the Oracle down on her simple mahogany stool where she usually sat. Percy hoped to never see her get up and walk again, sincerely. In fact, he could go the rest of his life without ever seeing an Oracle again. That would be pretty good too.

“Fuck, she was heavy,” Thalia huffed, and Percy nodded in agreement as he too tried to catch his breath. 

“Gods," Thalia sighed, "What a night, huh?”

Something about the casual delivery of it. His best friend on the brink of death, his worst fears coming true, more candidates for a Great Prophecy, another prophecy that spelled out more death, general world-impending doom all summed up in “What a night?” Percy couldn’t help but start laughing. It was almost genuine at first. Just a couple of chuckles before he was clutching his stomach howling like it was the funniest thing in the world.

It was kind of funny, at first. Thalia wasn’t laughing. Percy thought it was funny, at least, until he didn’t. Then he got mad again. He kicked out and knocked a table of goodies from past quests, rolling it and knocking a few of the things down.

“Percy-“ he heard Thalia say, like a warning, but the anger had already passed. It was easier and easier to get pissed off lately. Percy didn’t like it. He tried to slow his breathing. He turned away and paced for a moment before he looked back at Thalia. He couldn't lose his cool, not like this. He wasn't a baby.

“Sorry. I’m fine. Sorry,” he blurted out, “Just…” he struggled to force the words out. Then his shoulders sank. “Y’know. What a night.”

Thalia looked like she wanted to pat his arm or something. Fortunately she didn’t. She reached down towards the object that had fallen off the table. It was a small plastic placard and a flash of pink fabric, but it caught Percy’s eye. Thalia was already reading it off by the time he opened his mouth.

“Scarf of the Goddess Aphrodite,” she said informatively, before it turned into a question, “Recovered at Waterland, Denver, Colorado by Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson?”

Oh man, Denver. All Percy really remembered from it was a near death drop and millions of tiny mechanical spiders. He and Annabeth had to recover…a shield? Something or another for Ares. It had been one of the first times he had had to help Annabeth out instead of vice versa. He remembered finding the scarf, but Annabeth had said something like “Oh no you don’t! No love magic for you!” before snatching it away.

“I…yeah. So we had to do something for Ares, to get the lightning bolt back, right?” Percy explained, “And we found this while we were getting it. I didn’t know it was here…I kind of thought she threw it away.”

“She told me the story,” Thalia said lightly, “About…you know, how scared she was. How brave you were acting.”

“S-She did?” Percy asked dumbly. He hoped he wasn’t blushing.

“Yeah!” Thalia said, punching his shoulder lightly, “I think that’s when she really started to see…you know, you two as a team. A good balance, you know what I mean?”

Oh. Oh man. Yeah he was definitely probably red in the face right now.

“Wow. I don’t…I didn’t think she thought we were that good together…uh, as a team.” Percy muttered, “A team I mean.”

“You kidding?” Thalia laughed, “You and Annabeth are like Peanut Butter and Jelly. I wish she and I worked together half as well as you two do- and I’ve known her longer.”

That gave Percy pause. There was a bit of a bitter undertone to that comment. He gave Thalia a confused look until she realized he was asking a silent question.

“I mean she’s my little sister. We get along, it’s just… y’know, there was an incident at our school. Did you know Empousa in New York like to disguise themselves as cheerleaders?”

“Huh. No, I didn’t know that.” Percy admitted.

“Well, they do. And there was this one…I don’t know. She really messed with my head. I don’t even like the prissy cheerleader types, you know? But she played me like a fiddle. Annabeth saw through it the whole time. I blew her off. I would’ve died if Annabeth hadn’t made me come to my senses at the last second.”

“Oh. Well…hey, you can’t blame yourself for that. Empousa can mess with your brain,” Percy tried to console, “I’m sure you two work together fine.”

“Thanks, Percy. But it’s fine. You two are good for each other,” Thalia smiled, “If she’s out there, we’ll get her back.”

Thalia made him feel confident. For a minute he could even shake off that Thalia might've just been trying to make him feel better out of pity. Maybe she really did want to be friends with him. It didn't hurt that Annabeth apparently thought he was brave. The thought of it made him feel incredibly warm inside, even though the attic was biting cold.

Before Percy could say anything, the stairs creaked with loud footsteps before Grover poked his head into the attic.

“You guys good?” He asked worriedly, “I thought I heard yelling.”

“We’re good, G-Man,” Percy said with a thumbs up, “We’ll be on our way down in a second.”

“Right,” Grover nodded, “All the counselors are here. Dionysus brought Cheez Whiz!”

“Oh, well we can’t miss that.” Thalia scoffed, “Let’s go then.”

Thalia disappeared with Grover down to the fourth floor. Percy was about to follow immediately before he looked back at the table with the now rearranged scarf of Aphrodite on it. He blinked as he stared at it. He and Annabeth really did work well together. Impulsively, he reached out and shoved it into his pocket. As soon as he did, the ancient lightbulb that was casting the glow on the room finally went out. The light from the stairs made the Oracle’s shadow stand high and terrifying over the wall and ceiling.

Percy would never admit to how fast he ran out of the attic.

It was Silena, Charles, the Stoll Brothers (Percy guessed they shared Hermes Counselorship), and Sherman Yang. With Thalia representing Zeus cabin, and Percy representing the Poseidon cabin, that left Zoë Nightshade and Sally Jackson representing the Hunt. Dionysus and Chiron had taken up the head of the table. Sure enough, there was plenty of snacks and cheese whiz to go around. Percy was the only one with a stomach, apart from Grover who was annihilating the ping pong balls. Instinctively, he reached for a pack of blue gummy whales- then stopped himself when he saw Sally watching his movement. He sat back bitterly, appetite lost.

Silena gave Percy a weird look that he passed off as her usual brand of feeling sorry for him. Everyone else seemed to be waiting for Chiron’s word.

“Well, I suppose we can call this meeting to order then,” Chiron said grimly, “Miss Nightshade, if you would. Please tell us what the Oracle told you.”

Zoë nodded but looked around the room with distaste. Percy didn’t blame her- it was the worst prophecy he’d heard so far. She spoke the words exact, though they were a lot less terrifying coming out of her mouth.

Five shall go west to the titan’s curse

Ceaselessly hunted by the son of the earth

The bane of Olympus shows the trail

Deny its temptation and thee shall prevail

Campers and Hunters face ice and snow

As a parent’s hand strikes the final blow

“How lovely.” Dionysus smiled from the head of the table. He was currently buried in some wine magazine, but Percy wasn’t fooled for a second.

“I find this discussion pointless. It is a quest for my own goddess. I shall take five of my sisters and make haste to leave.” Zoë nodded, as if there was no room for argument. Thalia snorted.

“Uh, idiot? You just said it yourself. Campers and Hunters. We both need to work together.”

“Do not insult me, Thalia Grace,” Zoë growled. Sally put a hand on Zoë’s arm and that seemed to reign her in, however.

“It’s alright, Zoë. She’s right,” Sally admitted, “So how about this. Two hunters, three campers.”

“Two? Sally, I do not consent to this. We should be allowed to pick our own.” Zoë turned to Percy’s mom.

It was weird to watch them interact. They looked like a mom and her daughter at the Principal’s office or something. After what Zoë told him the night before, Percy wondered if Zoë had any sort of disapproval for Sally in their ranks. She’d always seemed to brush her off before. But now Percy could see that there was genuine respect and care there, regardless of what she had said. What was it he said about how easy it was to be bitter nowadays? It was back.

“I don’t like this Prophecy,” Sally admitted, “and I don’t want to risk Hunters. Zoë, you and I should go. I’m old enough looking to keep any mortal involvement away- and I know the country a bit more than you do. We reduce risk to our sisters by sending us both.”

“Oh, so hopefully more Campers die, right?” Sherman blurted from down next to Beckendorf, “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, great reasoning,” Silena muttered, “What happens if one of you dies? Oh, but maybe you’re used to leaving little kids on their own.”

“Silena!“ Percy snapped, louder than he meant to. Everyone’s heads whipped over to him. Even Silena regretted her remark. Percy couldn’t stop himself. “No. Not…that’s not important. Not right now.”

Awkward silence fell over the table. In a way Percy felt grateful that any of the campers would step up to bat for him. But he didn’t need that right now. None of them did. They had a quest to prepare for- and it meant that they had to suck it up and work together.

“She’s right,” he managed to say, “Two and three. It’s not fair either way but it’s Zoë’s quest.”

Grudging acceptance flittered across the table. Zoë and Sally had a silent conversation before she nodded.

“Very well. Sally and I shall go. Before thy choosing, we should consider the lines of the Prophecy.”

“Anyone know what the titan’s curse is?” Connor spoke up, “Apparently you’ll be going there.”

Percy couldn’t help but notice Sally look uneasily at Zoë. No one else offered anything. Travis laughed with forced humor.

“Ok, well, says you’ll be paparazzi’d by a son of the earth. Any idea what that is?”

“There are many sons of the Earth, Mister Stoll,” Chiron spoke up, “The original Titans are all children of the Earth Mother, Gaea. There were their successors, the Giants, whom have not walked the earth since days of old. Gaea has raised many more children.”

“Sounds like it’s too many to guess,” Beckendorf sighed, “But I’m sure you’ll know when you see him.”

“The Bane of Olympus…” Thalia said, changing the subject, “Are we gonna go three to nothing on not knowing what that is? Apparently we’ll be tempted.”

“Artemis was hunting it,” Sally nodded, “It was where she was headed. Zoë and I have been having dreams…Artemis has been captured. That much we know.”

Captured? It was pretty damn hard to capture any god or goddess, let alone one as capable as Artemis. Percy didn’t doubt it, however. The distraught looks on the Hunters faces this morning made sense now. Zoë had told them about her dream. Chiron didn’t protest. Maybe Zoë had already told him.

“So you follow her footsteps,” Sherman suggested, “That’s what that means, I think. Her hunting trail as she looked for the…whatever-it-is. If you follow that, you’ll find the titan’s curse. Maybe she’ll be there too.”

Sherman was pretty dang well-spoken for an Ares kid, Percy had to admit. Everything made sense, at least with that part. It was the next lines that were worrying.

“Ice and snow,” Silena wondered aloud, “It’s winter I guess. You’ll be facing a lot of blizzards the further west you get, I imagine. And you’ll need to work together to get through them.”

Murmured agreement from around the table. Percy still felt weird about that one, though. Ice and snow were dangerous but there was something in the way the oracle had said it- the mist showing visions. Percy thought he saw a woman within when that line was spoken. More silence fell over the table.

No one wanted to be the one to bring up the last line.

“Parent’s hand strikes the final blow,” Percy muttered. “It could apply to anyone. Maybe someone we meet. We won’t know until we get there.”

The mood changed ever so slightly. Sort of a “If Percy’s okay with it, we’re okay with it.” Kind of situations. Sure, Sally showing up right before a quest raised red flag’s about parents killing their children- but Sally had abandoned him sooner than trying to hurt him. He couldn’t seriously think she would try and kill him, could he?

In abandoning you, she tried to kill you.

Percy shook his head. Thalia’s look was worried, as was Silena’s. The Stolls shrugged, Sherman didn’t acknowledge anything, and Beckendorf nodded his respect towards him. Grover looked a little mortified. Percy knew Grover could read him like a book- seeing as they shared an empathy link. There was no fooling him. He didn’t say anything, fortunately.

“We.” Zoë said distastefully, “Thou art very certain of thy coming.”

“Why? Because I’m a dude, Zoë?” Percy snapped. Her eyes narrowed as well.

“Exactly. I would prefer to take females only, but…”

Her eyes rolled over to Thalia and Silena. Both of whom she hated. Silena looked mortified at the idea.

“Hey, eyes off. I’m not going anywhere with you.” Silena said dismissively, “I’d sooner die.”

“I’m going. Percy’s going.” Thalia butted in, “And I think Grover should go too.”

Zoë looked like she wanted to argue. Sally spoke first.

“Two Big Three children on one quest. We’re bound to attract a lot of attention. Grover, dear, can you do nature magic?”

Grover looked quite pleased with himself for someone whose whispey unshaven chin stubble had cheese whiz and ping pong ball crumbs in them. He nodded.

“I know a tracking spell too. Wherever Artemis went, we can follow her with that.”

Sally looked at Zoë as though daring her to disagree. She was clearly unhappy with the idea, but she nodded. The other counselors looked relieved, sans Silena. She still didn’t look all that happy with Percy for whatever reason she had. It was only just now starting to sink in that Percy would be traveling the country with his Mom. A part of him wanted to back out then and there.

His hands laced into his pocket and he clutched the scarf of Aphrodite. He had to go. Annabeth was out there, in trouble. He wasn’t going to leave Grover and Thalia to do it by themselves- especially if none of the other Campers were head over heels to attend.

"There's gonna be a lot of danger on this quest," Sally said, "We'll attract monsters- but I think you two might be just what we need."

It was weird to hear Sally willingly accept Percy on the quest. Once again, a strange feeling like a bowling ball in his stomach began to settle. He was in serious trouble- and he'd run facefirst into it. Bare minimum, the quest was going to be unbearably awkward. Hey kid! Time to go on a road trip with your mom! She might kill you!

“There is still one small matter, I suppose,” Dionysus said, making Percy irrationally upset again. He hadn’t said a word this whole time. “The deadline.”

Percy had almost hoped there wouldn’t be one. But like with most things, there usually was. The Summer Solstice had been his first. There’d been only a few days to save Thalia’s pine last summer. If he had to guess…

“The winter solstice, right?” Percy suggested, “When the gods meet?”

“Oh, very good for once, Peter.” Dionysus said with a cocked eyebrow. Percy tried not to throw a cheese whiz ping pong ball at him.

“Artemis is indeed essential at the council of the gods,” Zoë nodded, “She is vocal against the rising tides. Should she not be present, we shall lose precious time. Nothing will get done.”

“Hm? Young lady, do you imply that the gods are not taking the threat of the Titans seriously?” Dionysus asked with raised eyebrow.

“I am, Lord.” Zoë said with great confidence. Dionysus just smiled dryly and returned to his magazine, apparently in agreement.

Chiron spoke up like he was delivering a eulogy.

“Then it is settled. Zoë Nightshade, Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson, Thalia Grace and Grover Underwood shall travel west to free Lady Artemis by the Winter Solstice. The gods will meet on the evening of the twenty-first of December. It is currently the thirteenth. You will have one week to find Artemis and free her. We pray for your speedy journey and your safe return. May the gods be with you."

Chapter Text

And I never minded, being on my own

Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home 

To be where you are 

But even closer to you, you seem so very far

Percy had hoped Hestia would stay out of his dreams for the rest of the year.

Like with most things, however, it seems he just wasn’t going to get what he hoped for. When he crawled into bed that night, exhausted from one of the most eventful days he’d had in a while, he passed out like a rock and found himself back in his old apartment. He was on the couch this time.

The flaming hearth that had taken up the middle of his living room was now cold and dark. Still, Hestia was there, rooting through the ashes. Smoke would rise from somewhere within the pit but Percy saw no embers as he had a few nights ago.

Percy didn’t want to see Hestia again because she knew . Had known. Every year she’d come to tell him her vague advice about fire and whatever but never help him figure out what he needed to know. He didn’t want to see her again because he’d already mouthed off to Ares, Dionysus, Hades, and now Artemis. He did not for the life of him need another damn Olympian who wanted him dead or transformed into some small animal.

“Aunt Hestia.” He managed to say without sounding as bitter as he felt.

“Perseus.” She replied without a second of hesitation. She turned to look at him, once again conveying so much sadness through her flaming eyes. “The flame has gone out.”

How the hell was he supposed to reply to that? Probably by speaking from his gut like he’d done the past fourteen or so years. He shrugged as if he were conveying indifference but the action was too quick, too aggressive. His anger easily shone through.

“Yeah, well, you never told me how I was supposed to keep it going.” He spoke plainly, “You never told me a lot of things.”

She looked away from him and back to the hearth. Hestia nodded after a moment as though she understood what he was getting at.

“You are correct. There’s much that I cannot or could not tell you.” She explained, “I am sorry, nephew.”

(“I could do much for Sally that I could not do for you.”)

“Don’t be sorry.” Percy practically growled, “Be…helpful, for once, please! Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There are many reasons. Chief among them, your safety.” Hestia promised, “I would hate to imagine a scenario where you inspired my niece’s wrath. She is quite unforgiving.”

“My safety? ” Percy spat. He was standing now, looming. There was no fire in the hearth- instead, it felt like it had migrated to the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t help being mad. Who could?

“She- She was my mother! She was everything to me! For almost ten years- I thought she was dead! Or worse! I’ve met so many monsters and gods- people who want to flay me alive and wear my skin and eat me…I thought she was hurt, scared, or suffering somewhere because of ME! All because I was born! And you just didn’t tell me?!”

His first monster had been an enforcer of Hades who tried to kill him in plain sight. Alecto, a Fury. Hades, his uncle, had personally sent her alongside The Minotaur and her two sisters back to back. Luke Castellan, his ex-friend, had summoned a Hellhound into the borders of camp to try and maul him. Ares, his cousin, had tried to kill him on a beach. Percy had barely escaped that fight with his life.

Even afterward his life had become a constantly recycled episode of “Monsters, Camp, Monsters, Quest, Monsters, Monsters, Gods, Monsters” over and over and over and over andoverandoverandover-

Every day at Camp he would go to Mythology lessons with Chiron or Annabeth and be allowed to learn about demons and threats he had never even met yet. But he’d fought so many. He thought he knew. Of course, he didn’t know. He was just a stupid kid after all. Any one of these horrible vicious beasts could have done something irreversible to his Mother and he wouldn’t know about it.

But no. He spent years worrying- being kept up at night- taunted for his lack of knowing by Friends and Foes alike. But she was fine! She was perfectly fine. Sally had just left him to die on his own was all.

Was he a bad person if he couldn’t tell which option was worse?

Probably.

Definitely.

Some demigod hero he was turning out to be.

“Your mother…she was a Queen among women, Percy . The first brave mortal heroine in millennia. ” Poseidon had told him the day he’d returned the bolt. “I had not met such a mortal woman in a thousand years. I fear I placed a great burden upon you both. ”

“Mortal heroine?” 

“Indeed. She made quite an impression on the Greek World, in her youth. But that is a story she can tell you herself, hm?” 

“So…you know where she is?” 

“…I am afraid I do not. She is closed from my vision. And I have been searching.”

Poseidon hadn’t known. He spoke so passionately of their romance like it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. If Percy had a father like him at his back, Percy had hoped they would’ve found her. But Bianca di Angelo’s oath played on a loop in his head.

“I turn my back on Eros. No longer do I walk his path. I turn my back on the company of men. I shed myself of any attachments I once held firm. I am now and forever pledged to the goddess Artemis, the charioteer of the moon, lady of the doe, and mistress of the Hunt. I accept her blessing, should she accept me.”

“I turn my back on.”

“Any attachments.”

“Now and forever.”

“I know.” Hestia insisted like it made anything better, “I know. Gods of Olympus, Perseus, I know. Truly…I-I am so very sorry it had to be this way.”

Percy was back on the couch again, eyes glued to the floor as he weighed her words. She was more apologetic than any other god he’d met so far, that was for certain. He’d known her nine years at this point- it made it a little hard to keep yelling. Instead, Percy just let the fire in his stomach sit there, unable to vent it.

“You just knew the whole time?” Percy managed to ask after a moment. “The day she walked out?”

Hestia shook her head. “No. It was only a few short years ago I discovered that she still walked this earth. I am quite close with my niece, after all. Sally prayed to me one evening and I discovered that she still lived. This would have been…a year and a half ago, about.”

Two years ago, Sally had prayed to Hestia. Years, Hestia had been holding onto this information. Why wasn’t he made aware anytime sooner?

(A year and a half? Wasn’t that when Luke stole Zeus’ bolt…?)

“Understand me when I tell you, Perseus, that if it were a wise decision to tell you all that I know, I would.” Hestia pleaded, now sitting beside him on the couch. Percy didn’t meet her gaze.

“So why do you keep bringing me back here? I never want to wind up here, you know. It’s always you who makes me.” He asked.

She breathed out slowly. “To warn you. I cannot tell you the future but I can tell you what you need to do.”

Percy shook his head. “What I needed was my mother back. I don’t need you to tell me about this stupid fire-riddle year after year.”

Hestia paused before she ran a hand across her brow. It was like she was weighing her next words carefully.

“Maybe, Perseus. Do you still think that is possible? To have her back?” Hestia asked him gently. The heat in his stomach flared and Percy was standing again, pacing. “Do you think things can go back to the way they are?”

“Obviously not!” The son of Poseidon exclaimed. “She made it pretty clear she didn’t fucking want me, right? She…betrayed me. Just like Luke. Just like you .”

If she was hurt, Hestia didn’t show it. Instead, Hestia nodded. “Do you know why she did what she did?”

Percy scoffed, already completing three laps between the switched-off TV and the couch.

“No. But I’m not a complete idiot- why wouldn’t she drop me? It makes sense, in hindsight.”

Hestia shook her head. “You are far too harsh on yourself.”

“Let’s face it right?” Percy shrugged, “I’m stupid, clumsy, irresponsible, a bad friend, I can’t suck it up and just do the right thing, everyone has dreams about me bringing doom to Olympus, Annabeth is gone and I’m here dreaming about things I can’t control and moaning about my mom. Annabeth is in agony somewhere and I’m here yelling at you about it! I should be out there, trying to find her! I’m a shitty goddamn person, end of story.”

He breathed. It felt like the heat finally had somewhere to go, so he kept talking.

“Chiron once told me that my mom married Smelly Gabe to get monsters off our trail. That he smelled so bad, maybe they wouldn’t even show up. I don’t know. I remember even before she left I had already killed a couple things. Cannibals, snakes…a cyclops, I think. I’m a monster magnet. I’m destined to fuck up and destroy Olympus. Circe told me to listen to the Sirens, that they’d show me my fatal flaw. I thought if I knew what it was, I could stop it. Deep down, the Sirens showed me thing I wanted most in the world was her back, with my friends, and no more Olympus. No more gods getting into my head and messing with my life, telling me what to do. There wasn’t any more unclaimed kids, demigods didn’t have to live in fear like they do now. What sort of prophecy kid can I be if that’s what I want most in the world?

That had to have been why she left, Hestia. She must have known, somewhere, deep down, that I wasn’t going to be good enough. Maybe she thought Gabe would throw off the monsters, maybe she was just sick of me. I don’t know. I thought for so long that she was out there, in trouble, and that somehow I could save her and fix it. I thought we could be a family again. Just us two. Did you know what happened to Smelly Gabe?”

Hestia shook her head. She probably did know but Percy kept on talking anyway.

“He died. He had a heart attack at forty-two, just a year after I brought the lightning bolt back to Zeus. Grover told me about it in an IM while he was out searching for Pan. And I hung up the IM. I’m supposed to be this great Hero but I was so happy for a bit. He did things…to me. Probably to my mom too. Things I still have nightmares about, things that Kronos will taunt me with sometimes. I shouldn’t be glad anyone was dead but I couldn’t help it. I was happy because it meant if I could find my Mom, we could be together again, just us.

I could go back to school because I thought she always wanted me to beat my…y’know, my problems. Dyslexia. ADHD, that stuff. She would be home, our home, just the two of us. We could go back to Montauk. I think that’s where my Mom met my dad. I didn’t want to be a Half-Blood, I don’t want to run from school to school or hide out at Camp until I’m eighteen. But what other choice do I have? There’s no one out there in the mortal world for me except…”

He was breathing heavily. His eyes stung and all he could do was fall back onto the couch, dejectedly. At least the burning feeling was gone. Hestia was very quiet.

“I mean…there used to be no one out there in the mortal world for me except her.”

Hestia sat next to him for a quiet minute. All Percy could really hear was his racing heart and his own breathing. If this was his usual yearly Hestia dream it should have ended a few minutes ago. It was going to be different this time, he supposed.

He’d never vented like this to anyone. Circe, sort of. But that was important. He needed to save the camp. Maybe Thalia just a day ago but never an Olympian. Even after the Sirens, all he’d been able to do was cry. He didn’t really open up to Annabeth, not like that. What had changed? He’d just been so angry not even a minute ago, and yet here he was about to cry his eyes out like a baby.

Apparently giving him a minute to calm down, Hestia held out her hand. Percy didn’t realize it at first but she had grown into an adult woman in the blink of an eye. Her outfit was the same, her facial features were more regal and the air grew warmer around them. Her mousey brown hair poked out from under her shawl, down to the small of her back now. Despite himself, Percy took the hand.

“Percy.” She whispered after a moment. It was gentle and full of both sorrow and sympathy. “Only she can tell you why she walked the path that she did. My brethren do not make the ideal parents in even the greatest of times, it is true. To be spurned by both is…I cannot truly imagine it. I’m terribly sorry.”

Percy huffed in a shaky breath. He didn’t wanna cry.

“I never get to even stand up for myself. Everything I do, I just get more and more confused. It’s like I’m alone.”

Hestia’s hand tightened around his. Percy didn’t want to admit how much better it made him feel- or how nostalgic it felt. He hadn’t been touched like this- by someone so warm and kind- in what felt like forever. Annabeth had grabbed his hand in a tense situation maybe but…no, this was different.

“If my mom can go and do that to me, just leave like that? What about everyone else?”

Chiron always spoke to Percy like he was on the verge of death. Admittedly, Percy was usually on the verge of death but it didn’t make him feel any better. Would Chiron care if Percy wasn’t the son of Poseidon?

Thalia claimed to care this morning, but Percy was still somewhat insistent that she was only in it to help him out of pity. Once that well dried off, they’d probably still be back to how it was before; tense and full of bickering.

Grover had an empathy link with Percy. He had to stick around with Percy. It was like being locked into a really bad Cell Phone plan. If Percy didn’t have one with him, would he even still be Grover’s friend?

The thought of Annabeth not being there anymore and turning his back on him? He wanted to throw up in a dream. Not sure how that would work but he still felt his stomach wring itself like a cloth.

Hestia didn’t have an answer for him. Not at first. It took a moment. The goddess of the Hearth shifted her position on the couch to face him fully.

“Percy. Do you remember what I told you the last time you were in my company?”

“You hoped Thalia and I didn’t kill each other?” He tried. Admittedly, he kind of forgot with everything that happened. Hestia let out a small laugh.

“I did say that. But no, Percy.” She chided gently, “You asked my identity. And I told you that I was family.”

Percy remembered now. Of course, she was family- she was his aunt. Technically. Or something. Godly DNA was weird. He’d go with Aunt, he supposed. He nodded. Once again, the small smile returned to her face.

“May I hold you?” Hestia asked him. “Just for a moment?”

“You uh, you mean like a hug?” Percy felt his face turn red all the way to the roots of his hair. She’d given him hugs before- never like this. No one had ever phrased it quite like that either. He shrugged. “Uh, sure, I guess.”

“Do you find it odd, perhaps?” Hestia asked him with a tilt of her head, “You sound averse to the idea.”

“I just mean-!” Percy felt flustered all of the sudden. “You never asked before. And you didn’t phrase it like that either. Uh, why now?”

“Why?” Hestia questioned with what sounded a lot like incredulity. “Because I’m your family, Percy Jackson. And I think you need it.”

Percy weighed her words. At the end of the Hestia Dreams, she always hugged him. This time was going to be different, he thought. At least the dream would be over and he’d hopefully slip back into a deep sleep again. He shrugged, relaxing his posture as Hestia’s hands began to migrate from his.

His aunt reached up and around his neck, placing her left hand on the nape while her other snaked around his back. She coaxed him forward, expression soft. Her hands were warm and light across his skin. She placed Percy’s head on her shoulder, her arms tightening until she was now squeezing him in a firm hold.

The effect was immediate. The cold and dark apartment from Percy’s memory didn’t seem so depressing anymore. Her arms were warmer than any blanket, reminding Percy of the times he’d find just the right spot at the evening bonfire at camp. No smoke in his eyes, not too close to get singed, not far enough for any chilly night breezes to blow through. From then on, even more memories seemed to be resurfacing.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been held like this. He wondered if it had been Sally who’d ever been the one to do it. Briefly, he considered his underwater breakdown with Annabeth. That was different, though. It had been comforting, maybe, but Percy had loathed himself for looking like such a baby in Annabeth’s presence. She had so much riding on him being this great hero- watching him sob probably didn’t help her get her hopes up.

The heat in his stomach seemed to die away. For the first time in what felt like weeks, he felt perfectly…okay. Like he could set everything aside and just focus on the now. That should have made him feel bad- what right did he have to get hugs from goddesses while his friends were in danger? But he couldn’t bring himself to care about that, not right now.

Hestia smelled like a fireplace with fresh-cut wood, a pleasant smell that brought memories Percy had long forgotten. Things like Christmas and Thanksgiving. Easter, and Valentine’s Day with his mom. The Bead Ceremony at the end of Summer, Pinochle in the Parlor with Chiron and Mr. D. Even things he normally considered terrible, Chiron’s homeschooling and cleaning the stables.

“You are being so very brave, dear nephew,” Hestia promised him, her cheek resting against his head. “You have forgotten this feeling…and I’m so very sorry for that.”

Percy didn’t have any idea what to say to that. His eyes were stinging for some reason, though. Hestia’s fingers lightly ran across his scalp, which only felt better.

“I will visit you in the world of sleep just this last time, Percy Jackson.” She told him. “Which means I will only tell you these words once more.”

Percy noticed it then. His hearth, the one that was cold and dark since he’d arrived, now had one single ember cutting orange across the sea of grey ash. The rest of the dream was starting to go dim.

“You must remember what home is. You must remember who your true family is. You must not let this flame fade. Your love, your trust, is the only thing that will save your world. Do not forget this feeling.”

The dream dipped into darkness, save for the glow of one ember in a pit of inky darkness.

“Nico. Wake up.”

There was only a dull throbbing somewhere between his collarbone and shoulder. Aside from hushed words, it was the only thing to greet him when he woke up. His eyes felt heavy and he was really tired. What had even happened? Nico felt like he was waking up from a bad dream. Maybe he was.

“Nico!” the familiar voice whisper-shouted, more aggressive this time. Nico mumbled something but his mouth tasted like ash. He managed after a minute to get his eyes open. Wood-paneled walls, old-timey looking photos and warm orange light shining through a sconce on the wall. Nico realized there was a smokeless fire burning in the glass. Pretty cool. But who was talking?

Shifting his gaze, trying not to hurt his shoulder too badly, he realized he was lying in a bed. 

Bianca was there, just off to his right, looking down at him. Her eyes looked puffy like maybe she’d been crying. Her face was contorted in the way it got when she was fussing over him which meant he probably did something dumb.

“Bianca?” he managed to croak out. “What happened?”

Bianca looked relieved but her smile was tight-lipped. “A lot. A lot happened. How are you feeling?”

“Bad.” He said earnestly. “Shoulder feels funny.”

Then he remembered he hated Bianca right now.

“Did we beat you? Did we win?” he asked, “I got the flag.”

Bianca sat down at his bedside. Nico wanted to tell her to get off. A traitorous part of him was just happy she was paying attention to him again, though, so he allowed it. But he didn’t try to look too happy about it.

“The game was called off. There was an accident. Do you remember?”

An accident. Nico’s memory was fuzzy. He had the hat…he sneaked over to get the flag. Percy looked so cool, moving the water around and stuff. He got behind Bianca…

Oh.

“You SHOT me!” He said, more incredulous than actually mad. Admittedly? Getting shot with an arrow was oddly cool as heck. Would he have a cool scar to show for it? But also, not cool!

“I-I know. I’m so sorry, Nico!” she pleaded. Oh, she was about to cry again. Nico didn’t want that. “They kept me back on defense because I haven’t had a lot of training…they told me there were Monsters in the forest but they wouldn’t bother me. You…scared me.”

Her sadness melted away as quickly as it came on. Then she started scolding him again. “I didn’t know you took Annabeth’s hat! What were you thinking?”

Nico huffed and decided the wall was very interesting to stare at. Bianca didn’t relent, though. She kept shifting her head to get in his face.

“Don’t ignore me, Nico! I-I could have killed you!” Bianca was almost hysterical and Nico was starting to feel guilty and angry at the same time, like a big gross ball of feelings. Impulsively he managed to snap back at Bianca.

“What do you care? You have your new family anyway!”

Silence. Heated silence. The silence was uncomfortable so Nico kept talking.

“You didn’t even ask me! You just…they just showed up out of nowhere and everything changed and then you just decided to go running off with them! And I can’t go with you and the Stolls said the last time the Hunters came to camp was almost ten years ago! I won’t probably ever see you again! I-I just wanted to beat you and your stupid new friends, okay? Because if you don’t need me then-then I don’t need you!”

His face was flushed and his shoulder was hurting again. Bianca’s scornful expression became sad again. Nico’s heart was in his stomach. He’d never really tried to make Bianca sad before but he was really mad. It was how he felt so he was going to say it. Besides, she SHOT him!

“Nico…” was all Bianca could manage. “You’re my little brother. I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that. I just want you to understand that.”

“Well, I don’t. If you love me so much you shouldn’t have run away.”

“I needed to do it, Nico. What did you think was going to happen?” Bianca pressed.

“I thought we’d come here and be together, at least! Everything’s been so…weird…since the hotel! It’s always been us.”

“Exactly, Nico. It’s always been us. And I’m sorry…but I don’t…” Bianca didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want that. Not forever. I want to see what life is like on my own. It was never going to be just us forever. But that’s not your fault. I’m sorry it had to happen like this.”

Nico wanted to cross his arms but his shoulder was too achy for that. He just settled for turning his head away from her completely.

“I didn’t think you hated me that much.”

“I don’t hate you, Nico.” Bianca shot back. “I don’t. You’ll always be my little brother. I did this for myself.”

More quiet. Bianca was weighing her words like she had more to say. Nico felt like yelling and kicking. Everything about this camp just got so… stupid , so quickly.

“Nico.” Bianca said quietly, “I need you to look at me again.”

“Don’t want to.” He mumbled.

“Please…Nico. It’s about our Father.”

That got his attention. His head shot up so fast he thought he might hurt his neck. He didn’t, thank gods. Bianca’s expression was serious. She wasn’t pulling his leg. They’d been claimed and he’d been asleep for it!

“Who? Tell me!” Nico said, “Our dad, he’s the god?”

Bianca nodded, shutting her eyes and then reopening them.

“Chiron says you may stay in the Big House for the time being. They have plenty of guest rooms.”

Nico might have said something foul but the teachers at Westover had soaped his mouth for mouthing off one time. He shifted again to face her. He swore, she hadn’t said anything that made sense in days.

“Why? Why can’t I stay in their cabin? Who is it?” Nico pressed again.

Nico didn’t know what he expected. He thought he would’ve been happy to hear who his father was. Then Bianca said his name.

For some reason- he wasn’t.

The lake was always so inviting, at least in the daytime. At night, in December though? It was just a pit of inky darkness, completely uninviting in every way. But for some reason, Thalia decided to cut out past curfew and go visit. She knew she should’ve been asleep, but she couldn’t. Not in Zeus’ cabin of all places. 

With the giant creepy Zeus statue (painted in the eighties, according to Chiron) and a solid marble cubby to sleep in, and constant thunder, it didn’t make for a welcoming place. Apparently, the Campers thought it wouldn’t ever be used again. If Thalia had it her way, it still wouldn’t be used. Why couldn’t she get a sick deal like Nico and get a pad in the Big House? Sure she’d technically be housemates with Dionysus but at least she could sleep.

She wandered the grounds. She had no idea what time it was. There were no stars out because of the winter clouds. Back when it was just her and Luke, they usually just stuck to walking along highways and well-known roads. Sometimes though, they’d have to dip out and wander the woods somewhere. That was when Luke taught her how to read the stars. It came surprisingly easy- maybe because the sky was her father’s domain. You could tell the direction, time, what part of the month it was, that kind of thing.

“It’s the very first thing we learn!” Sally once told her very excitedly, when explaining the Hunt to her.

Why was she thinking of that? Whatever.

At the lake, her purpose here started to make some kind of sense.

The Sky was a dangerous domain for most demigods. Her dad got picky about who was and wasn’t allowed to travel on it. Was the same true of the ocean? Would Poseidon drown her just for delving into it? Somehow she doubted it. Annabeth had made it across the Sea of Monsters, apparently. And she was an Athena child. (Did Poseidon hate olives too? After the whole Athens thing?) 

Percy had always seemed to hold his dad in higher regard than Thalia did for her own. Maybe that’s why she found herself here. She figured Percy could use a bit of help from his dad right now.

“Hey, uh. Lord Poseidon.” She said awkwardly. She was sure down beneath the dock, the naiads were looking up at her in utter confusion and bewilderment. Thalia hoped she wasn’t blushing. “Listen. This is about Percy.”

Did the water get smoother? Hard to say. Might as well just keep talking.

“I don’t know if you heard or not…but his mom is a Hunter. Has been for a while now, apparently. I don’t think he’s taking it well. Gods know I wouldn’t.”

Trying to image a drunken maniac like Beryl Grace in the Hunt was almost laughable. But only almost.

“I don’t think you knew where she was. Maybe you’re just as confused as he is. I don’t know. But I think Percy needs all the help he can get right now. He’s about to go around the country again with his mom, who, basically ditched him. If there’s anything you can do, I ask if you could…you know. Do it. Please. Percy’s a good guy. I don’t think he deserves half the shit he’s been thrown this week.”

It was true. Not that Thalia wasn’t feeling the pressure or anything. She just…felt like she was dealing with a lot better. For the few years she’d been on the run, she’d never really grown out of that feeling, even after she slept as a tree for six years.

It just helped her deal with bullshit a little better, she supposed.

“His friend’s missing, his mom’s a bitch, er, sorry, you probably still like her, huh? His mom’s…a…rude, person? The prophecy seems to imply one of our parents is going to kill us. It’s a bit suspicious Sally and Percy are going on a quest together, I’ll admit. Everyone’s thinking the same thing. I’m rambling.” She sighed.

“We’re being paranoid, right? You’re not a god of Prophecy but I just… she already left him for dead once. She said all these things to me the other day about how she wanted to know him or whatever. That’s fucked up, right?” 

She took a seat on the edge of the dock, letting her boot soles lightly graze the top of the water, ripples slipping off into the dark. She wondered if she should end it there but her gut told her to keep talking. So she did. 

“I’m positive you don’t hear this a lot from Zeus’ kids. I’m here to help, though. Percy, I mean. I want to help him get through this.”

The wind whipped up a bit and chilled her to the bone something awful. It made her realize how awkward she probably looked right now. So she stood up again and let out an awkward cough. That was probably enough praying for one night. 

“Either way, no matter what happens, if there’s some way you can help us out…I think we’d all appreciate it.”

Nothing. No glow or breeze, or some kind of sign Poseidon had even heard her. Typical of gods. The daughter of Zeus was taking strides to go back to her cabin and see about warming up, talking to herself as she normally did now apparently. 

“Guess we’ll find out when we’re out and about-“

MOO!

Thalia nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped her head back to the water, jaw-dropping at what she saw.

“What. The. Fuck?”

They left before Apollo made another lap around the planet, peeking over camp in whatever car the Sun was pretending to be. Percy had a backpack haphazardly stuffed with a few drachma, some snacks, a change of clothes, and a bedroll. Aphrodite’s scarf was stuffed into the bottom of his bag, hopefully out of sight. Thalia packed even lighter than he did, and all Percy saw the Hunters carrying were some drawstring bags. 

Sally smiled at him as he walked up. Small, but the smile of someone who was pleased to see him. Percy wanted to puke. But then she started walking towards him 

“Ah fuck, here we go,” Thalia mumbled. Grover bleated nervously. Percy opted to just be quiet but he kept eye contact as she stopped just a few feet away from him. 

“Morning,” Sally greeted, “Percy. Can I borrow you for a minute?”

She was straightforward enough about it. Percy adjusted the bag on his shoulder nervously. Her voice was so different sounding now and yet so normal too. But he was pretty sure facing Zeus had been less intimidating than this. Riptide was in his hands, just in pen form, being twirled around and tapped against his leg. Thalia and Grover were glancing at him nervously.

He had no idea what they possibly had to talk about, he wanted to tell her. Which was a lie, there were dozens of things to talk about. That didn’t mean he really wanted to necessarily do that right now, though. 

Still. It couldn’t hurt to talk, Percy supposed.

Besides, she might kill you on this quest. Might as well find out why.

“Sure. Fine.” Percy shrugged. Thalia and Grover kept giving him a serious look, though. 

“Percy.” Thalia was the first to speak, voice dripping with a combination of her usual brand of pissed off and also her more recent brand of concern. “You don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to.” 

Even with the very pointed rage, Sally Jackson didn’t flinch. Grover didn’t say anything but Percy could tell that he felt the same way. Still, he’d already said yes. What’s the worst that could happen?

“S’fine, you guys.” Percy all but mumbled, “We have to get going anyway. C’mon…” Percy caught himself before he said it. The word. Mom. Like she could even be considered that anymore. He was quiet for probably too long before he coughed. 

“C’mon. Just up the hill.” 

If Sally caught what Percy had almost gone and called her, she didn’t let on. Percy couldn’t tell if he was upset or not at this. The two stayed at a respectful distance climbing the hill. They stopped next to Thalia’s Pine, where Peleus the baby dragon was sleeping peacefully. He was still more or less the size of a snake rather than a real terrifying dragon. His scales matched the color of the fleece, shimmering in the dark. The golden fleece shined a lovely golden hue over the two of them. It didn’t comfort him in any way, though.

“I know you told me to stay away-“ Sally started, and Percy remembered how angry he’d sounded the night before. “But…we’re about to go on a quest together, right? I thought we should at least get on speaking terms.”

Speaking terms. Right. Makes sense. 

“Alright.” Percy nodded, “Speaking terms.” 

Brief silence. Awkward, horrible silence. Meeting his own Father hadn’t been quite as weird as this and he was a Greek god.

“I heard you killed The Minotaur, bare-handed.” Sally offered, still keeping a pleasant smile, “That must have been terrifying.”

“It was,” Percy said. She nodded. 

This sucks. Fuck this. Just walk away, Percy. 

No. Don’t piss off the lady who might kill you. This is a quest for Annabeth. 

“I met Dad,” Percy said, slowly, the words awkward on his tongue. A nostalgic look flashed in Sally’s eyes and her smile grew. 

“I’m sure he must have been very proud of you.” Sally grinned. 

“I think so.” Percy shrugged, “I’m pretty sure. He…told me you were a hero. A mortal one.” 

Sally’s smile faltered a bit. A different look overtook her, then. 

Greek myth was no stranger to mortal heroes. Jason came to mind. He didn’t have any godly blood in him. He was just a guy. A guy, as Travis Stoll put it, “Had a wicked hot witch helping him out ninety percent of the time.” 

(“Travis.” Annabeth deadpanned, “Medea murdered her own brother and slit her children’s throats.”

“Her red flags stand firm and proud. Much like her chest.”

Travis wasn’t allowed at History Lessons for a week after that.)

And his mom was one of them, apparently. Chiron didn’t know anything about Sally Jackson when he had asked. And Percy didn’t have much of an opportunity to ask other gods what they knew. This was the first real opportunity to learn more about his mom in almost ten years. 

“ Good or bad, she’s your mother. You can’t help wanting to know her.” Annabeth’s voice echoed, somewhere in Percy’s head.

Was he royally pissed? Yeah. 

Could it wait until Annabeth was okay? Maybe.

“It’s true. I…was a bit of an adventurer myself when I was twelve. You could say I saw a few quests.”

“That’s news to me.” Percy admitted, “No one at Camp Half-Blood seemed to know anything about you.”

Sally smiled as she reminisced. 

“When I was twelve, I met Zoë. I was clearsighted, and I didn’t smell all that appetizing to my homeroom teacher. So Zoë asked for my help, killing her.” 

Percy tried to imagine Zoë Nightshade asking for help from anybody but couldn’t. So his mom had known The Hunt since she was a kid? That didn’t make sense. Or did it? It was weird how familiar Sally’s story was, either way. 

“Your teacher was a monster, too?” Percy blurted out before he could stop himself. Sally didn’t seem to mind.

“That’s right!” Sally nodded, “An empousa. I thought I was crazy, until Zoë told me what I was seeing.”

“Why’d Zoë need your help?” Percy asked. 

“Well…Empousa are children of Hecate. This one was the very First. Basically, she’d used a hasty, specific magic that would curse any Hunter of Artemis who tried to hurt her. I wasn’t a Hunter, then, so…Zoë tried to teach me what she knew. She’d already cursed many Hunters, minus Zoë. It was a very special assignment.”

“Right…so…I assume she offered you a spot. Pretty sure you still wouldn’t be a Hunter if you had me.” Percy shrugged, “So I’m guessing you didn’t join.” 

Sally’s smile was solemn now and she nodded. The air had shifted. Percy was dangerously close to broaching the serious topic. 

“Not then, no. I was…well, I was taking care of your Great Uncle Rich, then. He had cancer. But I did explore. I…well, before Zoë, I wasn’t much of anyone. But then suddenly there was a whole hidden world I could be part of. I’d help demigods, the ones that wound up at my middle school or high school. Ones I spotted on the run, in need of help. There was this scuffle we had with Medusa’s siblings-“ Sally broke off into a laugh as though it were the funniest thing. “Sorry, it’s just…they were incredibly silly, those two.”

It was a side of his mother that he had never even considered, because she’d never opted to tell him. How much did she know, truly, about the world around them? How much did she know growing up? What about this story made it okay for her to join the Hunters later? 

What was this bizarre nightmare scenario he was in? What in the hell was he even thinking? They were standing there, laughing, talking, but not talking. Not about the really important stuff. What did Percy care about what she had gotten up to in the past? It didn’t mean anything. Sally must have seen the shift in his posture, his demeanor, something because her expression sobered up incredibly fast. Percy readjusted his backpack and turned away. 

“It was good to talk. But we need to go. Your Goddess is still missing.” 

Percy didn’t look back to see her expression, but he heard the melancholic voice whisper, “Right…” in agreement. When they made it back to the van, Thalia and Grover clearly wanted answers. 

But Percy had enough of talking for one morning. 

Chapter Text

I was always able to write my way out, 

song always made sense to me. 

Now I find that when I look down, 

every page is empty.

As soon as Washington D.C. appeared in the windshield of the Camp van, they figured out the second line of the prophecy.

“Turn right!” Zoe called from the back of the van. The doors were open, giving her and Thalia a clear view of the massive hunting dogs and hulking figure that was chasing them. In the driver’s seat, Sally whipped the car to the side. Just barely, Percy caught a glimpse of a long shape that catapulted forward and barely missed them. Instead, it embedded itself in the concrete pavement. 

Though he was a good distance away, Percy could still make out certain details of the large man. He was reminded of the movie King of Sparta, a cult classic among the campers, and wondered why actor Tristan Mclean’s incredibly tall and equally handsome brother was chasing them down the interstate. 

The giant, for lack of a better word, had skin like bronze and was dressed like he had just stepped out of Camp’s yearly hours-long recital of The Aeneid , but also an episode of Duck Dynasty. What looked like a bronze pauldron and vambraces were shined proudly over his torso and forearms, but he wore dark green camouflage pants, and an ill-fitting high visibility orange sweatshirt with the sleeves torn off. 

The most odd, however, were the eyes. Two celestial bronze spheres with lights that shone like car headlamps, swirling and glancing around at nearly everything. His grin was lazy but pleased like he was taking this all in stride. 

“My friends! Pull the car over, if you please. It would make my next steps so much easier!” 

“He’s just toying with us-” Sally groaned, “He could’ve hit us any time he wanted.” 

“Who is it?” Percy asked Riptide out and feeling kind of useless as the car shot down the road. 

“‘tis Orion!” Zoë shouted from the front seat, “Ancient enemy of the Hunters! He is the son of the Earth that thy prophecy spoke of! I should have known!”

“So nice to see you again, Zoë Nightshade! And you brought the resident Harlot of the Hunt! It is good to finally meet you, Sally Jackson!” 

Sally went silent, and instead responded with a blur of arrows, hands moving almost impossibly fast, each embedding themselves in Orion’s dogs, who’d been gaining on them. Each of them collapsed, life snuffed, bursting into powder like pinatas. 

“Oh!” Orion said, not in the least bothered that his hounds had been destroyed, “I’m sure Artemis is most proud of your aim. Shall we have a friendly competition?” He sneered. 

Something clicked then. Something Percy didn’t really get, definitely something to unpack later, but it hit him then that Orion had just called Sally a Harlot. Which, as Percy understood, was some kind of old-timey way of saying “slut”. And despite the betrayal, despite the way he felt about her and despite his mood the past few days all he could think was…

…no one talked to his Mom like that. 

Percy had always been a pretty good pitcher, even if he wasn’t a baseball guy. Yeah, he liked the Mets, but he wasn’t exactly tuning in to their games with an Iris Message. So when he reached into his back, snatching a Dasani water bottle he’d brought from Camp, and threw it, it hit its mark. 

Orion had probably never been attacked with a terminal velocity water bottle before and it showed. First, a tension as he noted his threat and readied himself to defend himself. Then, dismissal, he realized it was a mere bottle of water, barely the size of his palm. 

Then, Percy’s gut wrenched and the water bottle became a small hydraulic grenade, exploding at a pace that froze the droplets in the frigid air. They became sharp crystals that embedded themselves in Orion’s tacky hunting outfit and legs, which managed to trip the running Giant. 

“He’s down! Stop the van!” Thalia shouted, “Great shot, Jackson!” 

But the van didn’t slow. Thalia turned back to the front as Orion became an angry orange spot in the road behind them. 

“Stop, we can get him!”

“Nay! We cannot!” Zoë snapped, “We must leave this city, now!” 

“That’s why the hunt will be ‘ceaseless’…” Sally groaned “Orion is a giant. Without help from a god, we can’t kill him.” 

“Yes!” Zoe called, “The Giants- created to oppose the Olympians. T’was only through cooperation between the gods and…Heracles- that thee were defeated. We are alone.”

That killed the mood harder- which Percy had thought it already dead. They were being tracked across the country by a being they could only hope to barely hold off. 

“Well then we had better get to Artemis ASAP,” Thalia groaned, “Grover, are we going the right way?” 

Grover, who had been scrambling to gather up his Ziploc bag of Acorns he had brought for nature magic, looked up and shook his head. 

“No…the only way I knew to go is back towards Orion. We’re way off-course.” 

“Zoe!” Sally called, “On the right!” 

They then found out just how “ceaseless” Orion’s hunt was going to be. There was a brief flash of a dark figure- before a massive hunting wolf crashed into the van. Percy’s world turned topsy-turvy as the van careened onto its side, causing an ear-splitting grind of metal on asphalt before they finally came to a stop. 

“Out! Everybody out!” Thalia demanded, crawling over Grover and planting her boot on Percy’s face in her scramble to free herself from the vehicle. With a loud THUD (presumably the sound of Thalia’s other boot against the handle)  the back van doors flung open and cold air shot in. Thalia was out first, followed shortly by Percy and then Grover. 

Taking a moment to scan his surroundings, Percy realized where they were immediately. Beside them was a long rectangular stretch of water, frozen for the winter and coated in a small layer of snow. Beside them, up a length of white stone stairs was a building with great pillars. In the distance, Percy could see the Washington Monument. They had crashed their car on the National Mall. 

Percy got sickening deja vu to his time at Saint Louis Arch- and silently prayed to whatever god was still on his side that he wasn’t going to cause another manhunt in which he was a national terrorist. 

He had Riptide out in an instant, head on a swivel as he tried to detect where the wolf had gone after hitting the van. 

“Argus isn’t gonna be happy…” Grover groaned, though he already had his reed pipes in hand.

“Grover, help Sally out of the car,” Thalia ordered, “Percy, stay with me.”

Thalia had Aegis at the ready, spear fully extended and her head as equally swiveled as Percy’s. Zoe had escaped the van- her bow already at the ready. 

“We are exposed here,” Zoe observed, “We should make for the monument.”

“That’ll just back us into a corner, genius,” Thalia shot back, “We need to flip the Van over and keep moving!” 

“‘Tis a Temple, this place,” Zoe countered, “Orion will be cautious to enter but it will not last long. We must hurry.” 

Before Thalia could counter, the loudest howl Percy had ever heard split the air and was joined by so many more that Percy thought his eardrums might bleed before they went silent. 

Grover, who no doubt could speak violent-man-eating-hunting-animal, shouted from the back of the van, “They are REALLY hungry! Sally’s seatbelt is stuck! I’ll have her out in a minute!

“Hurry!” Percy called, but the bravado died on his lips as the shapes of wolves began to emerge from behind the surrounding buildings, bushes, and alleyways. Hunting dogs half Percy’s height, but twice as wide, shaggy, and black. Their eyes were piercing yellow, and their fangs were dripping with saliva. 

“Boy,” Zoe muttered from beside him, “Thee reflecting pool. Use it.” 

If there was one advantage to their position, it was that they were situated beside the reflecting pool. Percy had sort-of-beat-a-god with the help of some handy dandy H2O before. It comforted him but only a little bit. Late last summer, after the Sea of Monsters, Percy had discovered he could not only get water to do what he wanted- but he could change its temperature at will. Annabeth had given him some kind of scientific explanation…something about molecules. 

He reached out his free hand to the reflecting pool and concentrated. In seconds, the air began to steam as the ice turned to lukewarm water. Perfect timing too- as Orion’s wolves had arrived. 

Thalia held them at bay with her Aegis, and though they whined and turned away from the shield’s glare, they were still encircling them, getting ready to attack from all sides…or was it?

“They’re trying to close us into one spot,” Percy observed, “For Orion.” 

“Okay, we’re free!” Grover called, scrambling out of the van with Sally in tow. 

“Move!” Zoe called, and everything happened at once. 

A massive arrow arced across the sky and might have turned Percy into the world's dumbest pin-cushion if Zoe hadn't said anything. The group had already been moving when the arrow hit the van, keeping them safe for now. Percy waved his hand outward, sweeping a massive arc of steaming water from the reflecting pool between themselves and the approaching hunting dogs, washing away the lot of them with a cacophony of barking and yelping. 

Sally and Zoe fired arrows at a rate that would have been record-breaking in the mortal world, dropping wolves that Percy hadn’t swept up in the wave. Grover was attempting to keep his reed pipes between his lips, carrying whatever bags the crew may have ended up forgetting in the van. Thalia kept the way clear in front of them with Aegis, prodding the animals with her spear and forming a straight path to the Lincoln Memorial. All-in-all it ended up being a pretty good unspoken plan. 

Percy searched for Orion, knowing that he had to have fired the arrow from somewhere close by, and found him immediately. The big lug was strolling up the National Mall without a care in the world, not running, merely knocking another arrow in his great bow and taking aim. Grouped up as they were, it was about to be a bad scene. Clenching a fist, Percy willed the reflecting pool to act once again. 

Not a second too soon, the water rose and met Orion’s arrow. But it wasn’t enough to halt it completely, instead serving only to redirect it, embedding it in the ground beside Percy and splitting the stone, tossing Percy to the ground. By the time the group ahead had realized Percy was off his feet, the wolves not swept up in the tidal wave had cut Percy off, separating him from the group. 

“Percy!” Sally Jackson called out, fearful.

“What a pity! Percy Jackson, I thought you’d want nothing more than to see your mother die!” Orion boomed, “Don’t tell me you’re still being sentimental! Why else would you try and deflect my arrow?”

“Don’t talk like you know me,” Percy shouted out to the giant, already rolling to his feet, “I don’t need to hear it from you!” 

Percy swung Riptide to ward off the wolves but noted that they were keeping their distance, keeping him separated from the group. Could he use the reflecting pool to sweep them away again? Or would Orion take the chance to strike again? 

“Oh, but I do know you, Percy Jackson,” Orion laughed, “I think you might find us alike in many ways.”

“Boy, do not listen!” Zoe cried.

“See? The disrespect. She refuses to even acknowledge your name,” Orion chuckled, “The Hunt, their vows…they took much from us. Our way of life, our happiness…our manhood.” 

Percy didn’t want to think about how Orion and Luke’s goons had discovered the events of last week, and a fire burned hot within him that Luke would send more deities to harass and manipulate his feelings. 

“Keep moving!” Percy called to his allies, “I’m not far behind!” 

And though it looked like his friends and the hunters wanted to argue, they begrudgingly kept moving, holding the wolves at bay while Orion focused squarely on him. 

“Hiding in her temple won’t help you much, I’m afraid. I am protected by my half-brother. She is a clever goddess, I will admit, but…still a woman.” 

“So that’s your gimmick? A dogshit archer who hates women?” Percy jabbed. 

“Oh no, I do not hate them. Quite the contrary. I could’ve killed anyone of you the minute you left your camp. I don’t hate women… I merely support the natural order of things.”

“You’re gross,” Percy bit back, “If you think you can goad me into joining you, you’re wrong.” 

“If I can’t ‘goad’ you, Jackson, I could always just beat you, kill your friends, and drag you to Orthrys myself,” Orion chuckled, sounding every bit like a celebrity, “But we can just skip the fight and cut right to the killing. You could even help.” 

By now, Percy could tell his friends had made it to the Lincoln Memorial. The hunting dogs were significantly less than they were before, which was good. Less things to focus on. Orion was no taller than Polyphemus had been last summer. Percy had the water. God or no god, Percy was pretty sure he could slow him down. 

“I suppose I should admit…I admire your mother getting where she did,” Orion taunted, pulling an arrow from his quiver and spinning it in his fingers, “There was a time where I was the anomaly in the hunt. The first Male to join their little band…which would make her the first one to join without her chastity intact.” 

It was like an explosion in Percy’s chest. Percy lunged. He’d fought Ares before- why did he have to be scared of a knock-off archer? 

Percy charged Orion. Thalia didn’t know who she wanted to strangle first, Orion or Percy. 

“Does he do that a lot?” Sally asked. 

“He challenged Ares, once,” Grover offered, “He won.” 

“On thy left!” Zoe called, and Thalia whipped around to stab a lunging wolf in the maw, exploding it into disgusting monster dust on impact. 

They had to get to Percy. Water or not, he didn’t stand a chance surrounded like that. But the last of the wolves were closing in. Did Orion just have infinite hounds? There was more howling on the horizon, boxing them in and making the situation worse. At this rate it was possible they’d even attract monsters. 

The wolves focused on their weakest link first- Grover. He wasn’t worthless, but they swarmed him, and Thalia moved to intercept them. She forced one against a pillar with her Aegis before finishing it off with a jab to its exposed belly. 

“Thalia behind!” Grover called and she had a nanosecond to whip around, the wolf slamming into the shield she desperately raised and sending her sprawling across the slick marble floor. 

She came to a skidding halt at the feet of the big man himself, Lincoln. Moving to get back to her feet, she spotted at least three hunting dogs converging, teeth bared, ready to bite down. A myriad of emotions came back to her at that moment. A final stand on a hill, the gnashing teeth of giant black dogs, and then slumber. Fear, doubt, anger, all swirling in a nanosecond and covered under the thought of: ‘Am I really going to die like this?’ 

Spoiler alert, she wasn’t. 

From the corner of her vision, she saw Grover in a running leap, throw himself into the air, screaming at the top of his lungs the entire time. The wolf closest to Thalia never saw it coming and instead received the furriest drop-kick to the head that Thalia had ever seen (or would ever see). 

The dropkick must have been so unexpected and strangely majestic to the wolves; as the remaining two encircling Thalia could only stare at Grover as Thalia’s second rescuer rushed in to help. 

Sally Jackson had removed her hunting bow and now held a strange blade. It was silver, like most of the Hunt’s weapons, but she held it like a professional fencer. It wasn’t very Greek in design at all. She employed a quick stab to the nearest wolf, before gracefully removing it from the wolf’s gut and bring it into a downward slash across the head of the final beast. 

Her free hand was reaching out to pull Thalia up. Against her better judgment, Thalia accepted the hand. On her feet, she immediately checked to see if Percy was alright- and of course, her heart sank when she realized that the extra wolves had arrived. 

“Does he just have an infinite supply of wolves?!” Thalia shouted, half in frustration, half in a strange sort of humor. 

“Indeed!” Zoe called, “They are created to oppose our Wolves- not in skill but in quantity. He will send as many as he requires.” 

“How is Percy?” Grover asked Sally, moving to help him up as well. 

“He is…well…” 

When Thalia, flanked by Sally and Grover, saw the carnage that had erupted at the reflecting pool, they were stunned to silence. 

Orion had opted to switch up his tactic, and was facing Percy with a hunting knife that was half the length of Percy’s body. Percy’s clothes were ripped and torn, and he was fighting with all of his might. The reflecting pool was almost emptied, and the unused water had returned to being icy frost that coated the area outside. 

“Holy…” was all Thalia could think to say. 

“Yeah,” Grover agreed.

“Oh,” Sally said in a tone that was hard to decipher. 

“Indeed,” a fourth, unfamiliar voice that none of them recognized said, “I once knew a child of Zeus who was similarly talented, in my time.” 

It was deep, rumbly, loud, and the group had no time to process who had said it before the next wave of wolves had arrived. They were not difficult to deal with; but they had been coming and coming for nearly ten minutes, and the marathon fight was beginning to wear on the group. Thalia could feel them slowing down. 

She parried a wolf off of her shield, then vaporized another one with electricity she fired off of her spear. 

Lightning, an inherent ability of most children of Zeus. Not as versatile as Percy’s control over water. But Thalia, like Percy, seemed exempt from the laws of physics when it came to lightning. Live wires did not hurt her. She never burned when she called forth lightning. The only difference between Percy and herself was, unlike Percy, Thalia could call lightning forth from within herself. It wasn’t as powerful as calling it from the sky but she’d been training since she got revived. Percy had a few years of formal training Thalia felt she would always be struggling to catch up to. 

She let the lightning shoot from her hands like a Star Wars character, focusing and chaining together a bolt of lightning that arced between a group of wolves and reduced them to ash. Then a wave of nausea hit her and she fell to her knee, using her spear to keep her up. If she used too much of what she called “inner lightning” she would get a headache and a little queasy. 

But the wolves were thinning out. 

“Are you alright, young one?” that same mystery voice called. It took Thalia out of her stupor and she dragged herself to her feet. 

“Who is saying that?” Thalia called, spinning around. 

When she looked back on the day's events mere hours later, she would mentally punch herself for being as caught off guard as she was. There would always come moments, being part of the ancient greek world, where the weirdness of it all would still somehow manage to catch her off-guard. Thalia spotted the voice that was speaking immediately. 

Because it was Abe Lincoln. 

“Oh,” Thalia shrugged, “You’re Abe Lincoln.” 

“Indeed!” the statue said, though Thalia could not quite figure out where his voice was coming from. It was old, with a bit of a country hick twang to it. Like a nice grandpa on a movie or an old tv show, “Abraham Lincoln, Son of Athena and guardian of this temple.” 

“Of course you are.” 

The statue of the president was sitting and watching them face the wolves. His mouth did not move, so the voice just seemed to emanate from nowhere. His head was on a swivel and a tilt it seemed. All of him seemed to just be marble. 

Thalia was granted a flash of a memory of Annabeth wanting to visit this place while they were on the run. Grover vetoed the decision, however. He said it was too far out of the way. Annabeth later told her that this place was a temple of Athena. If they had gone here- would things have happened differently? 

Annabeth and her were nearly the same age. Luke was almost twenty, her senior. A menace to the gods. A servant of Kronos. They were likely to come across him on this quest…what would she say to him? What could she say? With a shake of her head, she tried to refocus on the situation at hand. 

“Mister President,” Sally called up to him, “Forgive me, but if you’re the guardian of this temple…could you maybe help guard the temple?”

The statue of Abe Lincoln moved his hand, and *clanked* his hand against his chin, as if contemplating. 

“Perhaps. But, I would simply like to know first…where is it you hail from? What camp do you call home?”

It was an odd question. Thalia knew Camp Half-Blood had rotated positions, same as Olympus or anywhere else the spirit of Western Civilization was strongest. She didn’t consider, it seemed, that the name of Camp Half-Blood might change as time went on. Still, there was something in that statement that wasn’t right. 

“We’re from Camp Half-Blood,” Thalia told him, a bit disdainfully, “My father is Zeus. My friend in the reflecting pool is a son of Poseidon. That’s our Satyr Companion…and those are Hunters of Artemis.” 

Abe seemed to consider something for a moment before his automated head nodded. And he stood.

–

Percy quickly discovered why he had to be scared of a knock-off archer.

As a younger boy, when Percy fought Ares, he’d had the entire ocean behind him. And looking back on it- Ares may have been holding back/mind-controlled by Kronos. It had taken everything Percy had in him to not get murdered by a literal god who wasn’t even trying. 

It was a much different experience fighting a deity who was out to kill him. 

Smug, shit-eating grin on his face fully intact, Orion fought Percy with a hunting knife the length of Percy’s whole arm. It was the same kind of silver that the Hunters of Artemis used. He was almost 5 feet taller than Percy was, with longer reach and centuries more experience. And he employed it at every turn. 

Percy couldn’t break through his guard at any turn. The best he could do was keep Orion from piercing his guard. Percy’s limbs ached under the strain it took to deflect Orion’s blows, even enhanced by the water as it was. Percy resorted to trying to be cheap, throw some water in Orion’s eyes, catch him offguard- but there was no point. His damn even had little window-wipers on them for water. 

“Regretting anything, Percy Jackson?” Orion asked, suddenly shifting his stance. 

Percy saw the giant’s leg tense and saw what he was doing. A stepkick to penetrate a guard. Percy saw his chance coming. 

Orion’s leg thrust out towards Percy’s height, Orion taking advantage of his height to strike a normally hard-to-kick place. But Percy used his own height to his advantage as well. Like a game of wack-a-mole, he crouched down and let the kick miss him. Instead, Percy felt his gut shift and the water explode around Orion’s feet.

Instead of reaching down to behead Percy with his blade, Orion was thrown off balance and began to stagger. Percy leaped out, Riptide ready, and slashed. The satisfying feeling of Riptide cleaving through a monster-filled his limbs, then a satisfying cry of pain as Percy took Orion’s sword hand off at the wrist.

Percy put his sword at Orion’s throat the second the giant went down. His breath was steaming, his chest was heaving and he was cold. But his heart was racing from the most intense fight he’d had since the Sea of Monsters. Orion’s gimmicky eyes focused in on him, staring. 

“Ah…Percy Jackson…oh no…I’ve been bested by a mere demigod…” 

Percy was back in the Sea of Monsters, standing over Polyphemus. And he saw Clarisse, telling him to just end the beast and not spare it. He heard her, telling him he had to make the right choice and giving him no room to question it. He saw him, still smug-smiling. He remembered what he had said about Sally Jackson. 

He swung Riptide. Orion’s head flew from his body and into the reflecting pool with a satisfying sploosh.

Percy sighed and turned to check the others, confident that they wouldn't have gotten mauled to death by a bunch of stupid wolves, at least. This was when he began to realize fighting a giant wasn’t a good idea. More specifically why he probably should have been scared. 

The water shifted. Quick as a pit scorpion, Orion’s body lashed out at Percy with its good hand and wrapped its massive hand around Percy’s neck. Percy went airborne for a second before his stomach dropped. He was chokeslammed back into the reflecting pool, his vision going murky as the water rushed in above his head. 

It wasn’t that Percy thought he could kill Orion or that he’d forgotten what Zoe and Sally had said- but cut him some slack! Normally things might take a while to get back on their feet when their heads had been cut off! As Percy struggled against the strangulation, he woefully realized even the boost from the water was almost useless. Especially when Orion’s other hand- now reformed- joined in on the choking action. 

Vision blurry from the churning water and the lack of oxygen, Percy glanced up to see what looked like Orion, choking him, with a head now included. But the shiny, flashing eyes were not there. Before Percy could contemplate further what that might mean, Orion’s grip tightened and Percy’s chest tightened. 

His vision was blackening, fading. His heart was slowing. But he was a Son of Poseidon. He was not going to die by choking in his father’s domain. He focused intently, with everything he had in one last push. Vaguely, he recalled a memory of his first day at camp. How the water had leaped to protect him, dousing Clarisse and her siblings. 

The water cleared around him as it funneled into a spout, striking Orion in the face with apparently enough force to make him release Percy’s throat. Percy sucked in air, hacking, and sputtering as he staggered to his feet in a half-blind effort to make a getaway from Orion. His vision was blurry, but clearing, slowly. 

Orion was getting to his feet, but slowly. He was still smiling, but not as smug. 

“Yes…Yes, you are the one. Be proud, Percy Jackson,” Orion laughed, “You’re the first to have gotten me that good in a millennia!” 

Orion was standing now, glancing back and forth. Percy realized it now; Orion’s eyes were missing. They didn’t reconstitute the same way his body did. In its place were milky whites and deep scar tissue, like out of a Halloween horror flick. Percy said nothing. 

“Do you see this Percy Jackson? Do you see what the Hunt took from me?” Orion said, a hard edge to his voice now, “I’ll admit, you’ve surprised me. And here I thought my mechanical eyes would reforge upon death. Yet, here we are…You can’t beat me. And for the moment, I can’t beat you.” 

Percy saw his chance to move and began to take some cautious steps. He weighed his options. Regroup with the others or test just how immortal Orion was. It was an easy choice. He faced Orion but continued to step backward. He took a breath and tried to will the water to churn and bubble away from himself, disorienting Orion. 

Instead, Orion was on his knees now, with a growl, reaching his arms around for either his dagger or his eyes. Then he whistled, high-pitched and aggressive. Sharp like a knife. Howls rose in the distance again, and Percy saw a pack of five hunting wolves rush from the Lincoln Memorial, barking and beelining straight for them. 

Percy moved to heft Riptide, then realized he didn’t have it. Nor was it in his pocket, as it hadn’t returned to it yet. And while Percy fully anticipated the wolves to jump into the water and make a run to turn him into kibbles and bits- the wolves instead paced at the edges of the water, sniffing. Searching. They were going to find Orion’s weapons and eyes. Percy urged the water to turn solid where he stood and took off running across the top of the reflecting pool for his friends. 

Now, Percy considered himself fairly used to Demigod Stuff™. He could watch an old lady turn into a jailer of the underworld on the dime and not blink. That was all day-to-day stuff. But sometimes, it caught him a little off guard. 

So watching Abraham Lincoln, twelve feet tall, white marble, stroll out of the Lincoln Memorial toward him, you can forgive the “what the fuck?” that he uttered under his shallow breath. The statue had even somehow produced a Top Hat, which he did not normally have. 

He walked down the steps of the Lincoln Memorial with a sense of great purpose, fitting of a president in his time. He seemed to look down at Percy as they approached one another, even though Percy didn’t slow his stride he briefly considered turning and running back to the Giant.

“Percy Jackson,” Abraham Lincoln said to him, “Good day to you.”

The statue of the former president doffed his top hat to him. 

“I bring a message from my Mother if you’ll hear it.” The statue spoke, watching Percy with his head on a swivel as he ran for the building. 

“Your mother?” Percy blinked, suddenly beginning to doubt his surroundings. Did Orion kill him? Was this some kind of dying dream? 

“Yes,” Honest Abe agreed, “She asks that you do not make a mess of her temple again. But she sends some of her wisdom as well.” 

“Oh,” Percy said, reflecting briefly on the ramifications of Annabeth being Abraham Lincoln’s half-brother, “Alright…shoot.” 

“She asks me to remind you that a house divided against itself cannot stand. You need not love…only cooperate. There is always a way out for those clever enough to see through the lies.” 

“I don’t know what you’re saying-”

“Oop. Watch yourself,” Abraham said, his arm reaching out and snatching one of Orion’s giant arrows out of the air, centimeters from Percy’s nose, “Spilling a son of Poseidon’s blood here just won’t do.”

Percy whipped around, to the disappointment of seeing Orion had discovered his prosthetic eyes and was hellbent on continuing his hunt. He stalked toward them, already knocking another arrow. 

“I believe you should be on your way now, Percy Jackson,” Abraham nodded, “I will hold off this nuisance for a time.”

And with that, Abraham rose to his feet and marched toward the giant. 

Athena, Goddess of Wisdom sent a statue of Abraham Lincoln to tell him to try and get along with his questmates. But also that he had to be clever and see through lies. Obviously. But why tell him this? Did she think he wasn’t up to it? 

“Percy!” Grover called, “Hurry!” 

The group was waiting outside the pillars, apparently waiting for him to approach. Percy shook his head and ran to meet them. They looked no worse for wear. Then came the uncomfortable segment of Grover, Thalia, and Sally Jackson looking him head to toe for damage, of which Percy was sure he had plenty. 

“Percy, oh my gods,” Thalia growled, “Were you CHOKED?” 

“Are you alright, Percy?” Sally asked, “Your breathing is shallow.” 

“You fought a GIANT!” Grover said, apparently awe-inspired. 

“Yes I was choked,” Mercy listed, “Yes I’m alright…and yes, I guess I fought him.” 

“Let us move,” Zoe stated, “We must not stay in one place for long.”

And yet, Sally Jackson put her hand on his chin and stepped in uncomfortably close, glancing at his neck, assessing the damage to his neck. Percy felt his face flare up red. Her fingers almost caressed his chin as she tsked. 

“We’ll have to get you some nectar-” she started to say. Instead, all Percy could think to do was throw Athena’s advice out the window. 

“Get off of me. I’m fine,” Percy spat, stepping away and blowing them off, instead following Zoe as she led them away from the monument. None of the others brought it up, so he wasn’t going to either. And yet, Sally Jackson was there again, holding out a silver flask of what smelled like Nectar. Undeterred. So caring.

“Please, Percy,” Sally asked, “It’s already bruising. Then the swelling will come. So please…drink.” 

Her kaleidoscopic blue eyes that changed in the sun shone silver in their sad gaze. Percy took the nectar and averted his eyes from them. It was strange. Nectar and Ambrosia- they didn’t taste like anything anymore. 

“How are we getting out of here?” Grover asked, “What’s our plan?”

“I can hotwire a car,” Thalia offered, glancing around the area for any sort of vehicle. A foolish idea. They’d found themselves behind the Lincoln Memorial, with nothing but the choppy waters before them. Not a car in sight. 

Thalia looked. Percy wasn’t offering any advice or ideas. He looked pretty out of it. Thalia had to resist the urge to choke Sally after watching her pull the motherly crap on Percy. Percy being out of it wasn’t a good thing. They needed a way out, and fast. 

And then, out of nowhere, Thalia could have sworn she heard… the mooing. 

The night before- Thalia remembered praying to Poseidon. And then she wasn’t sure what had happened next. She’d just been standing on the dock one minute, and then the next, a cow with a serpent's tail was staring out at her from the depths, all sad and shit. Just swimming around like it had expected her to do something. Thalia eventually gave it some grass from the mainland. She had considered going to wake up Percy and get his opinion on the situation. Instead, she pet the big cow-serpent thing. She decided to name it Daisy. It seemed like a good name for a cow.  But as soon as she had called Daisy ‘Daisy’, it had slipped under the water and just left! What kind of answer from Poseidon was that? 

And yet, here they were a day later and still hearing the creature. Thalia rushed for the railing on the lawn behind the Lincoln Memorial, not giving a damn if the others followed her or not. She was starting to wonder why she hadn’t told the others about it yet- but she had a gut feeling it was something she was meant to hold onto.

She looked for Daisy in the water, scanning, listening for mooing. 

“Thalia?” Sally called, “Do you see something?” 

“Shh!” Thalia called, “Did you guys hear that…?” 

Everyone fell quiet to listen. Grover took particular interest in smelling the air, however. Even he could sense something was amiss. And yet, it was Percy who mumbled what came next. 

“Rainbow…” Percy said, looking up and out of his strange brooding stupor very suddenly.

True to his word, the ocean burst open in an array of brilliant light and colors, and also neighing, as underwater horses arrived. Thalia, despite herself, stepped back in what she hoped didn't look like fear. In the ocean before them were three, great, big, magnificent rainbow-colored horses. Had she misheard? She had sworn she had heard Daisy, somewhere nearby. 

But more importantly, Thalia wondered if this was Poseidon's answer to her request. The others stepped beside her, in awe. Even Percy looked happy for the first time on the quest. Percy held his hand over the railing and placed it on Rainbow's snout, smiling. And Thalia realized this had to have been the answer to her prayer. 

"Hey, Rainbow..." Percy grinned, "Nope...no Tyson today. Did my father send you? He did?" 

"Poseidon..." Sally hummed, "How thoughtful." 

Thalia didn't give her the satisfaction of a jab. Percy and Thalia rode one of the hippocamps, while Zoe and Sally took another. Grover was left to ride his own, the lucky goat. They left Washington D.C. behind them, the sounds of Abraham Lincoln battling Orion the giant fading as the underwater horses began to carry them into the Atlantic.

Chapter Text

Good god, 

Under starless skies,

We are lost, and into the breach 

We got tossed 

And the water is coming in fast 

Nico didn’t like Camp. 

It was something that he had begun noticing in the few days since he had arrived, and the morning he awoke and Percy had already set out on his journey to go save that cool girl Annabeth.

He had spied on them then. His night had been plagued with nightmares and he couldn’t find rest, so he got up and left the Big House. If the Wine Dude had noticed he did not say anything. For a god he seemed really pathetic, Nico thought. There was a curfew, apparently, but Nico still had the cool girl, Annabeth’s, Yankees Cap. He could go anywhere, invisibly. Like his father. 

His father, Hades. God of the Dead. When Bianca had told him he thought he would be happy. But he did not know Hades except for vague mentions on other Mythomagic cards… A malevolent, horrifying lord of a land of shades and skeletons. He had asked Chiron to tell him what he knew about him. Chiron had obliged him, but seemed tense. He’d grown strange since Nico had been claimed. 

“Your father…” Chiron said, “...keeps to himself, very often.”

But Nico was curious and quick to bombard with many questions. What did he look like? Would Nico get to meet him? What abilities did he have? How strong was he compared to Zeus or Poseidon? Where was he? 

Chiron tried to answer as best he could, until the questions of strength came through. Then, Nico couldn’t help but notice, he skipped over those questions and instead moved to his final one. 

“Your father lives in the Underworld, of course. There are many paths to the Underworld, but the most common one is in Los Angeles. Young Percy traveled there, once.”

That gripped Nico even more. Why did Percy go there? Did Percy meet his father? Were Thalia and Annabeth and Grover with him? Did Percy fight his father? Percy was the coolest guy Nico had ever met. The Stolls told him all of what they knew; Percy beating the Minotaur, beating the Hellhound, Medusa, Percy and Clarisse Vs The Maenads. Percy battling Ares. Percy Jackson- his voyage across the Sea of Monsters with a Cyclopes and Annabeth. But no one had told him about the Underworld yet. 

“Percy traveled there upon my recommendation…” Chiron said, “I…had believed that your Father may have been the culprit behind the stealing of Zeus’ Master Bolt. It was untrue. Yes, Percy met your father. Annabeth and Grover were Percy’s companions. And… I don’t believe Percy battled your father, no. Only defied him.”

“Defied?” Nico pressed. 

“It is Percy’s story to tell, Mister di Angelo,” Chiron told him, “But Percy did manage to escape Hades’ grasp, albeit barely. He was very lucky.” 

“He’s so cool, Mister Chiron,” Nico couldn’t stop himself from admitting, “Do you think they’re doing okay? When will they be back?”

Chiron looked sorrowful. 

“It is best we don’t discuss such things. I would hate to potentially, ah… jinx their quest.” 

“Oh,” Nico said, trying not to pout, “What else can my dad do?” 

Chiron was grateful for the subject change, it seemed. He nodded, pondering. That was when he had told him about the Helm of Darkness- a weapon that hid Hades from sight. He said with a tease toward Nico and his Capture-The-Flag Incident. 

“You did not keep hold of the Ballcap, did you?” Chiron asked. 

“I didn’t, honest!” Nico admitted. 

That was when Nico found out Percy had stood up to Bianca and the Hunters. There was a strange feeling in his chest and stomach, then, but his admiration for the son of Poseidon skyrocketed beyond what he had even thought possible. But it was also how he found out Bianca had opened up a hole to the Underworld. 

If Bianca could do something like that, what could Nico do? 

“Why do I have to sleep in the Big House?” Nico asked, “How come my dad doesn’t have his own cabin?” 

“The cabins are dedicated to the Olympians, who rule from Mount Olympus,” Chiron nodded, “Your father, though he is one of the first children of the Titan’s, is not one of the Olympians.”

“But…didn’t my dad fight the titans?” Nico asked, “Why wouldn’t he…” 

“It is unfortunate, to be certain,” Chiron nodded, “but this was how the power was divided amongst them.”

It was all stupid. Everything out of Chiron’s mouth was stupid, everything out of Dionysus’ mouth was stupid. He didn’t just dislike camp. He hated camp. 

But maybe it’d be okay when Percy came back. 

“So…how come it’s just me and Bianca?” Nico asked, “In Mythomagic, there’s like a gazillion children of those guys running around. And the other campers all have siblings too.” 

“That, young di Angelo, is…a very heavy subject. One that I am not sure if you are ready to hear.” 

“Heavy? Is it…something bad?” 

“My boy, it is…complicated. Like with all things in your family, I’m afraid. If need be, I…can provide you some context. But know that this knowledge is not set in stone. And I would also ask your discretion.” 

“Yeah, discretion. I can have discretion,” Nico agreed, nodding, wishing he’d get to the point. Chiron looked at him blankly. 

“You do not know what discretion means, do you.”

Nico rolled his eyes. 

“It means to be, you know, it means I shouldn’t go telling anyone! Please, Mister Chiron? I promise I won’t go telling anyone!” 

Chiron sighed and took a sip of his coffee, then did a strange gesture with his hands, like he was pushing away the air with three fingers. 

“There is…a prophecy. One of such magnitude that I dare not say the lines. But I will tell you this much. It is known that a child born of Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades will reach the age of sixteen. And when they do, they must make a choice…one that will either destroy or save Olympus. And to prevent this, the brothers came together and swore to never sire children in an effort to avoid such a prophecy from coming.” 

Nico nodded, in awe. That was so cool . 

“But,” Nico squished his nose, confusedly, “I’m here. And so’s Bianca. Percy and Thalia…did they just give up?” 

Chiron chuckled without humor. 

“I cannot say for certain of your father, lad. But, yes, it seems the others did.” 

A prophecy…when he turned sixteen. To save or destroy Olympus. 

“So…is it me?” Nico asked, “Am I…?” 

“We cannot say for certain, and I ask you not to look into it. To bare a prophecy on one's shoulders is a weight incomparable to any others. But, my boy, I don’t think you need to worry. If you ask me, I do not believe the child is you.” 

“Do you think it’s Percy?” Nico asked, excited. Percy Jackson, saving Olympus…his heart started beating faster. 

“I would not want to jinx him, my boy.” 

Maybe Nico could stick around camp. If it meant he got to help Percy save Olympus.

–

Percy wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep on Rainbow’s back, or that he had even been so tired, but he instantly regretted doing so. Quests were a hotbed for Demigod Dreams, and he already had enough bad dreams this week. This one lasted too long for his liking. 

He felt his body hit the ground hard, and he took a sharp breath as the wind was knocked from his lungs. For a dream, it was far more painful off the bat than they had any right to be. As he tried to get his bearings, his ears brimmed with the sound of crying. A girl’s crying. 

His own crying?

A familiar scent filled his nostrils. He was sitting in the woods, under a sky so full of stars that it looked as though the Milky Way had traveled closer. The wind blew and he noted that he wore a ragged tunic, torn from his body in places. And also his body was that of a girl’s- which was a first as far as dreams went. Usually they were just traumatizing but he didn’t have boobs. 

“But…but why?” The girl (Percy?) said, distraught, voice ragged. 

“Forgive me, pretty one, but this deed was to be completed by myself and myself alone,” a booming but cold voice told him. (Her?)

When Percy (The girl? This was weird.) looked up, he came face to face with a man so tall and broad it was like standing in front of Zeus’ Fist, in the camp woods. All veins and muscles, naked but for a loin cloth and a fur coat. No, not a coat- a cloak . Made of Lion Fur . 

“But my family…They’ve casted me out. I…I-I cannot return. For helping thee .” She spat, now on her knees, “and thou wouldst throw me aside?” 

“It is nothing personal, Eyrithea,” The literal Heracles shrugged, “I thank you for thy help. But I must leave.

“That is NOT my name!” She yelled, “You know that is not my name!” 

“Was it not? You all look much the same to me.” 

The literal Heracles, because who else could it possibly be, adjusted a glowing cloth sack over his shoulder, and for the first time Percy noted a very familiar sword in his free hand. A sword that was sleeping in pen form in his pocket, that had saved his life dozens of times now. Then he made to leave. 

“Wait!” She cried again, “Thy sword! Return it to me!” 

“Oh?” That disgustingly nonchalant voice replied. He turned his head to the side to look at her out of the corner of his eye, “You would ask for such a gift back?” 

The girl was desperate for the sword, Percy could feel. There was nothing in the world more important than getting her hands on that sword- the sword that contained the immortal power of her and her mother.

“Thoust said that thee preferred bare hands to weapons,” the girl said, venom in her tone, “Then thou shouldst have no need of it.” 

Heracles exhaled from his nose. The girl, Percy, whoever he was, was a tiny, insignificant thing to him. 

The hero took the sword and twirled it in his surprisingly nimble fingers, to where the blade faced the earth. Then he dropped Riptide to the forest floor, where it sank a foot into the dirt soundlessly. Then with a bored wave of his hand, the Hero wandered into the forest, disappearing into the treeline. 

The girl edged closer to the sword and pulled it from the earth. She gingerly tapped the top of the blade, shrinking it until it became nothing more than a pin. A hairpin, Percy recognized. His hair tousled as the girl clipped back her long, dark hair out of her eyes. Heat from the betrayal and argument with Heracles still burned within them, and they stormed off into the forest in the opposite direction of Heracles. 

After a moment of walking, dark locks spilled into the girl's face. Frantic hands reached to grab at the hairpin holding it in place- only to feel nothing. 

Riptide had returned to its owner. 

Unbidden tears returned to the girls, and so Percy's vision. A final straw.

 A feeling of pure loss. 

A monster’s  roar  cut across the forest, distant, but so loud that it shook the trees and ground around him. His vision blurred and he tasted salty tears on his lips. With no autonomy, the girl whose body he was inhabiting ran from the clearing, looking back. Percy saw a bright golden glow and a familiar mountain- before he was deeper in the woods, surrounded by fog. The stars were blotted out and he sat at the foot of a tree, wiping tears from his face. 

The feelings came in violent waves. The way his heart pounded, the way his stomach felt like it wanted to leap out of his throat. He began to forget that he was in a dream. 

“Sisters…Father…Please…” He heard himself say, “I-I beg of thee…” 

Another sob broke from his throat. And with it, he was reminded of the last time he’d ugly cried like this in his own life. With Annabeth, after the Sirens. The emotions were so familiar, so much the same. It was indescribable loss, failure, and guilt, all rolled onto one another. It made such a dense hole in his chest that all he could do in the dream was sympathize. 

He’d been abandoned, he realized. In his dream, he was a girl who’d wronged her family and been abandoned for it, left behind by someone she loved. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was there for, in this dream, but he knew that his eyes were stinging and his throat was hoarse.

His vision darkened as he shut his eyes. Then, it brightened. A shimmering sound and the rustling of leaves filled his ears. When he opened his eyes he was blinded for a moment as a white light turned the night to day.  Alarmed, he stood and tried to edge away from the tree. 

“Prithee, forgive me…” the girl quavered, “I am only lost, great one. I shall take my leave.”

When his vision adjusted, he was face to face with the biggest doe he’d ever seen. Silver fur that shined against the blackened night and enormous black eyes that bore into his soul as it approached. Percy’s hand shot out as if to ward it away. 

Fear that he’d angered another being, a god or goddess or monster permeated his entire being. Another familiar feeling. Fear so great he shut his eyes again as if it would make him safe. 

Instead, there was warmth. 

The girl opened her eyes, and saw that the deer had pressed its snout against her hand, comfortingly. The effect was so immediate that the girl gasped in shock. 

Warmth, care, and comfort flooded into her being. Before she could stop herself she wrapped herself around the beast in relief and continued to weep.

This, Percy observed, was unfamiliar. Arms wrapped around him and he briefly pulled away to see who it was. 

In the place of the deer was an Auburn Haired girl adorned in silver hunting clothes. 

“Hush now, child… It’s alright. All will be right, now.” 

And in the dream, he believed it. 

“What is your name?” Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, asked the girl. 

“My name…? Milady…my name is-“ 

“Percy.” 

Percy snapped awake, disgusted, to wet air, saltwater, and heat. 

“Woah, hey…” Grover said, “Are you alright?” 

“Peachy. Where are we?” 

They were all on the backs of the Hippocampi, still, but Percy could tell they’d slowed down.

The last thing Percy had expected from the quest as a gift from his Father. Yet, after his brush with death against Orion, there they were. Sent to him in his time of need, the first time Percy’s father had acknowledged the situation he was in right now. 

Well, was that true? Percy remembered the saltwater fountain in his cabin, steaming and rolling to create rainbows for Iris Messages. He’d realized it was there after Zoë Nightshade told him about her terrifying death dream. Percy had meant to call Tyson, but the talk with Zoë had drained him. 

He remembered standing in front of it the next morning, with a strange feeling to call her . Not even for any questing reason, and in spite of Annabeth’s warnings that trusting her could be dangerous. Ultimately, he didn’t want to bother her, so he opted not to call. 

Either way, it was a great gift. Percy wished he could’ve gotten some mileage out of it. He doubly appreciated the Hippocampi. 

Was it because he knew about Sally, now? Was he as enraged as he was? 

Was he just as confused?

He remembered being a girl, and his mind cluttered. He took a second to make sure what he had just dreamed was real. He had been a girl in a cough drop scented forest, thrown aside by Heracles and sobbing alone until Artemis arrived and made him feel better. Okay. Why was her voice so familiar? And was she the one who made Riptide? 

It was too much to be confronted with all at once, so he tried to ignore it for the time being until he could find some alone time to process it. First things first, where the fuck were they? 

(Despite himself, he patted his chest. Regular old Percy-chest. That was good.)

At sea, his head filled with nautical coordinates and directions- a helpful gift from being a Poseidon kid. Familiar coordinates, Percy realized, as he glanced up and noted the familiar Jacksonville Beaches up ahead. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Grover agreed, “Oh.” 

“They were supposed to take us west ,” Thalia groaned, shacked up behind Grover. 

“Well, technically,” Percy shrugged, “They did. Just not very far.” 

“We can forget following Artemis’ trail, then,” Sally said, on the third and final Hippocampus with Zoë, “At least for now.” 

The air, despite being well into winter, was humid, gratingly muggy. Apollo was over halfway done with his trip around the globe. There wasn’t a single cloud  for miles. Percy realized just how hot he was a moment later. 

Never in this quest had he intended to go south- nor did anyone here. They’d all packed winter clothes.  

“Only a bit closer, Lord!” Rainbow shouted in his mind, “This water is foul!” 

“As close as you can will be fine, buddy,” Percy coaxed, “Just drop us off at the beach. We’re going clothes shopping, I guess.” 

–

The good news was that the Hunters had space in their bags to lug their winter clothes. The bad news was most of their cash was depleted after leaving some of their gear in the now-defunct Camp Van in Washington. 

This left only one option for a place to get clothes and it had Percy second-guessing why he’d even volunteered for this quest. 

(Annabeth.) 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Thalia admitted, “This is too much.” 

“It’s like…if I touch it, am I dishonoring Pan?” Grover contemplated out loud, distressed. 

“Look,” Percy said, “Between the five of us, we have seventy dollars. It’s this or coats and long sleeves in Jacksonville.” 

Grover and Thalia huffed. 

The trio stood in front of a rack of colorful Travel Center Tee-Shirts, each adorned with various levels of hyperspecific statements and political propaganda. Here were just a few of the myriad of phrases-

Don’t Judge My Pitbull, and I Won’t Judge Your Kid!

It’s Not Hatred- It’s Heritage! 

Don’t Mess With A Bird Owner Who Listens To Iron Maiden!

World’s Most Okay Great Uncle

“If it helps, they’re all your color, Thalia,” Percy offered. 

“Oh fuck off, Jackson,” Thalia groaned, “Okay. What the hell does ‘Warning : May Explain Lumber To You At Any Time ’ mean?” 

In the end, Grover took the lumber one. Thalia settled for the electric pitbull asking not to be judged, grumbling that it at least had lightning on it. And Percy decided to settle for being the world’s most okay great uncle. 

(With his family tree, he had to be someone’s great uncle, right?) 

By the time they paid, Sally and Zoë returned from changing in the bathroom into matching silver tank tops and combat shorts, looking highly tactical and completely mismatched compared to them. 

“Interesting choices,” Sally commented with a goodnatured laugh, “Apologies for needing to settle here. Are we hungry?” 

“It’s cool,” Percy shrugged, “And yeah, I could eat.” 

He was starving but he didn’t want Sally Jackson to know that. Before long, the group sat at a long forgotten picnic table overlooking a beach, eating gas station hot dogs that were at best overcooked and at worst still cold. (That was Percy’s.)

“So I did a tracking spell,” Grover offered, “And we’re way off of Artemis’ trail now. If we want to find her, we need to head back north.” 

“Obviously,” Thalia sighed, “But we don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

Grover took a bite of his hot dog, foil and all, and shrugged. Percy stifled a groan. If Sally and Zoë were so close to Artemis, could she not have at least gone out of her way to tell them what it was she was after? But no, aside from going west, they didn’t bring anything at all. Wasn’t this Zoë’s quest anyway? 

He glanced across the table at them. Zoë hadn’t touched her hot dog. He figured she probably had an issue with such things. Sally, whose face was normally pleasant, was now melancholic. No, not melancholic. It was downright sad . She watched the table like it was about to run away at any given moment. 

Percy recalled a silver deer nuzzling into his frightened palm and the relief it brought. Despite himself, he hated to see Sally look sad. 

And he hated himself for hating to see her look sad. 

“You can’t help wanting to know her.” Annabeth whispered in his mind. 

“Right, and we need some kind of transportation, too. The speedy kind,” Percy offered, “Any input from The Hunters?” 

Sally hummed thoughtfully while Zoë eyed Percy warily. More weary than she usually watched him, anyway. 

“I’m old enough to rent a car,” Sally offered, “Though I doubt we can afford it now.” 

Car would’ve been nice, but Percy would rather something that wasn’t so easy to hit with arrows. Actually- what would be transport that Orion couldn’t just snipe from a thousand miles away? Or maybe that wouldn’t be a good question to ask right now. 

“I prefer to have a destination before making such decisions,” Zoë said after a moment. She wasn’t staring at him- she was watching his hand, where he was mindlessly twirling Riptide in his hand. Why?

“Uh, right. Do we remember where we wanted to head after D.C?” Percy coughed. Zoë’s black eyes were piercing. 

“Nay. We were not there long enough,” Zoë said sadly. 

“We could just call Camp?” Thalia said, then instantly regretted it, “No, scratch that, it hasn’t even been one day.” 

It wouldn’t look good to call Chiron and beg for help after not even nine hours of questing. Besides, Percy was certain that from there, Chiron and Dionysus couldn’t help at all. He supposed an IM for advice couldn’t hurt, but… Did he know anyone else who could help? Poseidon? Could you even IM a god? Best not try. That left Tyson…and…

Oh. 

Her. 

“…I might know someone who can help,” Percy told them, “I can try calling them.” 

Grover looked worried. 

-

Annabeth watched and waited. Waited and watched. She had been in a cell, alone, for two days now. She needed to get out of there and warn, help the others somehow, but she couldn’t. All she had in her pocket was her wallet and a drachma. Nothing that could break down bars or free Artemis. Though she did not have her knife, she knew that she wasn’t unarmed. 

She was the daughter of Athena. Her weapon was her own mind. So she was going to use it. 

The cell was made of black rock. The bars, some sort of black metal. Probably iron. There was a wooden board she had been using to sleep on. A discarded tray sat near the bars, where they’d fed her some kind of slop a few hours ago. She had kept the spoon, which wasn’t her knife but was enough, she decided. It had to be enough. 

Luke, Khione, and the deep voiced one weren’t present, she decided. If they had been, the guards would’ve been sharper. When Luke was around, the guards had made sure she handed her meal spoon back. Annabeth decided to review what she’d learned from watching and listening so far. 

One, she was on Mount Tamalpais in San Francisco. Home of the Western-located Mount Orthrys. AKA, Olympus, but for The Titans. AKA, the home of Atlas, the Titan condemned to holding the sky away from the earth. 

Two, speaking of, the deep voiced man she’d heard from her first night here was Atlas. He very casually had passed the weight of the sky onto Luke, then her, then Artemis. Which…

Third, Artemis, Goddess of the Moon, was imprisoned beneath the sky, meaning one of the only level headed Olympian Gods was now imprisoned. 

Fourth, Artemis’ imprisonment had sent Percy, Thalia, the Hunters of Artemis (and probably Grover if Annabeth had to guess) across country to Mount Tam, relentlessly pursued by an Ice Goddess and Orion, The Orion, bane of Artemis. 

And fifth…Kronos planned to use Percy’s mother, who was apparently Sally, the motherly Hunter they’d met in their travels, to try and turn Percy away from Olympus. 

“Oh, Percy…” she sighed, quietly to herself. 

After everything she’d said to him at the dance- she cursed herself for not taking him more seriously. It was only a matter of time before Percy ran into her again. Why now of all times?

All the more reason to escape. He needed her help. Which…

Six. Put her escape plan into action. 

Every time the guards had rotated, since The Big Baddies had left, Annabeth noted that they were all demigods. All armored in black and refusing to even acknowledge Annabeth. Except one. A boy, as old as Percy and Annabeth when they’d recovered Zeus’ Master Bolt, who twitched nervously. He’d made a whole show of standing all still, rigid, until he’d relaxed just a few minutes into watching Annabeth. That was when she started to get…ideas. She’d observed closer. 

He occasionally gripped his sword hilt like a right-handed person trying to write with their left hand. He would take slight glances back at Annabeth like he was trying to study her- like a dangerous animal. Which could only mean one thing. 

He hadn’t even killed a monster before. Luke, or whoever, had gotten to him, had only told him one side of the story. That was an advantage. A sad one. 

“Hey. Kid.” 

He tensed but he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m talking to you,” Annabeth pressed, “Are you deaf or something?” 

“Shut up, Prisoner,” he said, voice cracking a little at the end, “You aren’t supposed to talk.” 

“Are you a demigod? Who’s your parent?” 

“I told you…” he started, turning to face her but stopping. 

Annabeth’s eyes stung and her vision got misty. Crying blonde- a classic routine, one assisted by her pinching her own wrist so hard that it bled. His posture shifted, and his feet shuffled awkwardly. 

Perfect. 

“Hey, stop that! Stop crying!” The kid demanded, groaning, “They told me that you would try this…” 

“Try what? They told you I would try crying?” Annabeth scoffed, channeling her brief experience acting in the incredibly long reenactments of The Iliad at camp, “What, are they paranoid or something?” 

He didn’t say anything but he continued to watch her. His hands floated at his sides, like he wasn’t sure if he should grab his sword or not. Also good.

“My friends are going to die. I think I have a right to be sad,” she continued, wiping her eyes, “Sorry.” 

Another pause. Would he take the bait? 

“…Khione,” he admitted after a moment, “I’m a demigod. My mother is Khione.” 

Annabeth had to stifle a confused noise. In what reality would anyone out there be a good enough partner for that ice witch? Was that why he was even here? To get closer to his mother? 

“Khione…I’ve never met one of her children before,” she admitted, “When did you find out?”

“Last month,” he whispered, “You’re…Chase, right? Percy Jackson’s girlfriend?” 

Girlfriend?

Annabeth resisted the urge to reach through the bars and pull his throat out through his mouth, and instead nodded and put on her best sad smile. If she could make him pity her at all- it was best to just grin and bare it. 

“Yeah. Annabeth,” she told him. “You?” 

He was about to open his mouth and reply. Then she started to lose him again. His face shadowed and he glanced away. 

“Why do you care? I’m not even supposed to be talking to you anyway.”

“I just…” 

A calculated sigh. She let her voice quiver a bit. 

“I just…I’m wondering if I’m doing the wrong thing.” 

Khione’s son was quiet for a minute. She let the statement hang, not removing her eyes from the black stone floor. If she was right, he’d be too curious to let it lie. 

“If you mean siding with the Olympians, you’re right,” he replied after a moment, “I mean…you’re wrong. They don’t care about anyone except themselves. Even my mother gets ignored.”

“Have you spoken to her?” Annabeth asked, “Your mother?” 

The boy’s face took on a hard edge and he stared dead ahead. 

“Yes. She brought me here. After Monsters killed my father.” 

Annabeth, despite herself, didn’t want to press any further. She had several thoughts about her own father, but she’d never wish him gone. Not like that. Instead she just nodded. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t say anything for a minute. Annabeth just let the silence stew. 

“Jack,” he almost whispered, “My name is Jack.” 

“Nice to meet you, Jack.” 

“Thanks.” 

—

“Percy,” Grover said, slowly, cautiously. 

“What,” Percy asked him, more bite in his tone than he had meant. 

“I don’t know about this,” Grover admitted, gulping, “I just feel like it’s risky.” 

“Noted,” Percy nodded, “But it’s this or hijacking a car. And I don’t know if you know this, but we wouldn’t have rescued you from the cyclopes without her.” 

Grover sighed. 

“That’s true. But Percy… it’s more about how you feel about her.” 

Percy sprayed the air outside of the Car Wash with the mist function- which had come in handy back in the Lightning Bolt quest. Thanks Annabeth. As the mist twisted and hung in the air, Percy looked back to Grover with what was hopefully a “I don’t want to talk about it” expression. It didn’t work. 

“Percy, I can literally feel how you feel about her,” Grover reasoned, “And I don’t know if right now is a good time for you to talk to someone like that.” 

What did it matter how Percy felt about her? 

“Tell me how I feel about her, Grover,” Percy said, unable to meet his eyes, “Go on.” 

“I’m just saying-” 

“We need help and I’m the only one who has any idea what to do next,” Percy pleaded, “It’s going to be fine. Just let me handle this, okay? Please.” 

Grover, still looking apprehensive, bleated nervously and left to go rejoin the rest of the group. Percy had insisted on talking to her alone. He didn’t want Sally listening in either. He hoisted his drachma into the mist. 

“O, Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow…” he started. He visualized strange hair, gold eyes, and a hug. 

You are so much stronger than you let yourself believe.

“Show me Circe, the Sorceress.” 

The mist shifted and churned in front of him. It melted away to a familiar room, deep in the Sea of Monsters, where Circe had tried and failed to turn him into a guinea pig before changing her mind and helping him instead. Torches burned on the walls, and Percy saw that it was night on Aiaia. 

Percy liked Circe. He wasn't scared to admit it. Every single monster, or mythical figure he'd met on his journey had done nothing but try to kill him. Missus Dodds was a fury who tried to gore him. The Minotaur about ripped him in half. Luke was a traitor. Medusa, Porcrustes, Echidna, Ares, Hades...the list went on. He could count on maybe one hand how many mythical figures he'd met who'd ever been nice to him. There was Chiron, Tyson, his dad, Hermes, and Circe. There was Hestia he supposed...but he was still upset with her. 

Circe was unlike any of them, though. She made him feel differently, think differently. Feel better. He felt like he could actually talk to her. 

And there she was. The Witch who’d helped Odysseus thousands of years ago, and then hugged him. She was sitting before what looked like a massive flat screen tv, and Percy blinked before realizing that it was just another incredibly lifelike tapestry she was weaving. 

“Um…Hello, C.C,” Percy said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. 

Circe paused and turned, spotting the Iris Message finally. Her eyes lit up and she turned to face him directly. Percy realized he was smiling.

“Perseus Jackson. Hello there,” she greeted. 

The last time he’d seen her, she had been having a Seventies Night on her Island Spa, and she was wearing bell bottoms and was rocking an afro. Now she was back to normal, but her hair was still voluminous. It hung to her lower back. She was wearing what looked like the same black dress she’d worn when they’d met. 

“Hi,” Percy coughed, “I like your…tapestry.” 

“Thank you,” Circe smiled, watching him with a strange expression, “You’ve gotten taller.”

“I guess I did,” he nodded.

 A moment of silence. Too long. Circe’s face became questioning. 

“Was that all you needed, Percy? To compliment my work?” 

Fuck-

“Huh? No! It’s…sorry. I need your help.” Percy managed to say, “If that’s okay.” 

“Ah heroes…” she said teasingly, before very seriously saying, “for your assistance this past summer, it will always be okay to ask for my help and I will always make time to assist you.”

Percy was hit with a very visceral memory of meeting Blackjack, fighting alongside Seventies Circe against Luke, and a girl… 

“Oh. I…I’m sorry. How is Reyna doing?” Percy asked, “I hope she’s better.” 

Reyna, a demigod he met on Aiaia, who fought like a maniac and had the power to empower others. Percy thought she was incredible when he’d known her. He’d faced off with a group of demigods, ones that sided with Luke. They were the children of Hecate and he would have soundly beaten them if he’d not run to fight Luke. 

While he was fighting Luke, one of the Hecate children hit Reyna with some sort of spell- one that took her arm off her body, cleanly. Grover and Annabeth had identified the caster as Alabaster Torrington, the oldest Hecate child. 

If Percy had stopped to check, or if he’d been more thorough, Reyna would still have her arm. 

(Your fault.) 

“What are you apologizing for, little godling?” Circe asked, “‘Twas not you that did anything.” 

“But I did,” Percy admitted shamefully, “I led Luke to your island. And if I’d done a better job fighting, Reyna wouldn’t have-“ 

“If I recall,” Circe cut in, her tone taking on a ‘No buts, young man’ tone that his previous teachers and foster parents had used on him often. Percy didn’t mind that she used it though, “You came to my island to help your boorish friend return the Golden Fleece. And you did so under my open invitation. You hold no fault.” 

Percy felt his cheeks get hot as she leaned forward on her stool to look closer at the Iris Message. 

“Not to mention, it was your assistance that ensured my island remained safe,” Circe finished, “So no. I will not have you apologizing for things that you did not cause.” 

Percy didn’t know how to respond to that so he tried to move on. 

“Ok…still. Is Reyna okay?”

Circe’s expression darkened and she sighed. 

“As far as I am aware, Reyna is alive. She has also…left my care,” Circe explained, “Suddenly, without warning.” 

A beat. 

“She ran away?” 

“In a sense. The loss of her arm was quite challenging. That…and she was not a great spellcaster, even with both limbs,” Circe admitted. 

“Still. My trainees are like my daughters. It has been hard.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, but he snapped his mouth closed when Circe gave him a knowing look. Right, no sorries. 

“Did she say if she was coming to Camp or not? Maybe I could keep an eye out for her?” 

Circe smiled sadly and shook her head. Percy felt worse about it than he already did. Circe cleared her throat. 

“Now then. What did you call me for?” 

Percy swallowed a lump in his throat and tried to figure out where to start. Iris Messages didn’t last long, and they needed the help now. In spite of that, all he wanted to do was talk with her about his problems. He remembered settling down in his cabin after the quest to save Grover last summer, and feeling… better about what had been bothering him. Not the Great Prophecy, but his mom and where she was. For a time. 

Did he burden her with all the details of the past few days? Or did he suck it up and get to the point? 

He chose the latter. 

“We’re in Jacksonville…Florida, in case you don’t know-”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Circe said with deep sorrow in her tone.

“Right. Thanks. But anyway, long story short, we’re being hunted by a Giant and we need to go West. Problem is, we don’t know where in the West to go. So we were wondering if…” 

Percy noticed that Circe was looking at him like he was a puppy that had been kicked repeatedly and sprayed with a hose. 

“What?” Percy asked, trying not to growl. 

“Are you okay? ” Circe asked, “You look worse than when I met you.” 

Gods, did he look that bad? Percy glanced down at the hose in his hand and realized that the water had continued dripping on the ground. In the puddle, he noted that his hair was sticking in several unflattering directions and his eyes were so sunken that he could’ve wandered into Asphodel and looked right at home. He sighed. 

“No. I’m not okay,” he admitted, “but…I can’t talk about it. Not right now.” 

Circe didn’t look pleased to hear that, and Percy’s heart jumped. 

“But- maybe…if we can finish this quest. If it’s okay with you…I could call again? We could talk then?” Percy appeased. 

Circe gave him a chiding look but sighed and placed a hand on her chin. 

“My ears are always open, child,” Circe nodded, “I will put this aside for now. Please, continue your request.”

“We need to find something called “The Bane of Olympus”, and it’s apparently in the west. Do you know…what it might be? And where we should be going?” 

Circe seemed to contemplate this for a moment, before settling on a decision. 

“I am afraid there are too many beasts, men and monster alike, that could be described as such. Too many for me to begin theorizing.” 

Percy cursed in his head, convinced almost that this call was for nothing, until Circe continued. 

“However…you are in luck. I know of one who can help you,” Circe nodded. 

“Really?” Percy asked, “Who?” 

“My Uncle,” Circe smiled, “Prometheus.” 

Chapter Text

"No dawn, 

No day, 

I'm always in this twilight, 

In the shadow of your heart."

“So before we do this,” Sally said, “could you tell us what Circe told you exactly?”

Each of them were crouched down behind a bush in a park. Kathryn-Abbey-something or other, Percy remembered from the sign. Each of them kept their eyes trained to the sky for any signs of bird activity- which would make for the second time Percy had to deal with a bird-enemy since the Stymphalian Birds last summer. He fucking hated those things. Without trying to put too much of an edge in his voice, he answered Sally. 

“She says Prometheus is here. If we can free him, he can point us in the right direction. Maybe even tell us what the Bane of Olympus or the Titan’s Curse is,” Percy shrugged. 

Percy had never met a Titan before. He had technically met Kronos- but only in dreams. Kronos wasn’t even in a corporeal form, he was basically a ghost. A shadow of what he once was. Prometheus would be the first actual Titan Percy would meet face to face in the flesh. He tried to remember history lessons from Annabeth. 

Prometheus was the titan who stole fire from the gods and gave it to humans. He might have also made humans out of clay? Was Percy remembering that right? That way humans could do super cool stuff like eventually make cars, do global warming, and make YouTube videos about cats and baking and stuff. Rock on, Prometheus. But Zeus got mad about it, as he does, and had Prometheus chained to a rock to get gored by an eagle for all eternity. 

What else had Annabeth told him? There was something else… Oh, right. Heracles had actually freed Prometheus from his bindings to let him wander the earth. 

“So why do we have to free him again?” Percy had asked Circe over the IM, “How did he get locked back up?” 

“Oh, I only heard tell of it after the…ugh, what was it. That war. The one with all the jungles, firebombing, and atrocities.” Circe waved her hand, as though signaling for Percy to help bridge the gap in her memories.

“The Vietnam War?” Percy offered helpfully. 

“Yes. When the flame of Western Civilization had long taken root in America. Nuclear weapons had been blamed on Prometheus’ stealing of the Fire. So Zeus had him recaptured. I think he feels a sense of irony, putting Prometheus in a land that is a monument to human failure.” 

“Oh, that makes sense.” 

“How is it that thee knoweth Circe?” Zoë asked, and Percy noted that it was one of the first times Zoë had asked him a question that was genuinely broached out of curiosity. 

“Yeah, that’s kind of a crazy thing to have in your back pocket,” Thalia mentioned, agreeing with Zoë for once, “Annabeth mentioned that you…met her- not that you were on IM-Terms.” 

Percy would never get tired of having to explain that, yes, he had befriended a mythological being without any sort of violence or preconceived bias. Yes it was rare- but it could happen. 

“She helped us get through the Sea of Monsters last summer. Then helped us get home. We wouldn’t have finished that quest without her help,” Percy tried to use the cliffsnotes version of events. No need to discuss his near-guinea-pig status, “Annabeth, Tyson, Grover and I helped her fight off Luke to keep her island safe,” Percy continued, “And she beat Luke. She’s really cool.” 

“You’ll have to tell me more,” Sally said, and Percy wanted to splash her with as much swamp water as he could muster. Though he also had to stop himself from thinking about what he’d tell her about first, “but what did she say on the message?” 

And Percy explained. He didn’t want to talk too much after hanging up with Circe, just to tell them that they needed to go and find Prometheus. And after much debate about whether they should even do that, Percy once again had to reassert that he was the only one with any ideas and that was about it. He didn’t want to talk too much anyway- the thought of Circe’s sad look made him mad and being mad wasn’t what they needed right now. 

“Are you okay?” 

No. 

And he didn’t need to be okay until Annabeth was okay.

“She told us that in order to free Prometheus, we need to stop the giant eagle that claws at him all day. Which would be easy, except…”

“Let me guess- we can’t just kill the eagle?” Grover asked.

“Ding ding ding,” Percy deadpanned. 

Percy thought about the time he’d personally returned Zeus’ Master Bolt to his hands on Mount Olympus. And how even after doing that, Zeus wanted to snap his fingers and disperse Percy at the atomic level. Now imagine if he went and gutted one of Zeus’ sacred animals. It just wasn’t worth it. 

“We have to restrain it somehow, without hurting it, and then get Prometheus’ unchained from the rock,” Percy nodded, “Seems simple enough.” 

Zoë shook her head. 

“Thou hast not seen the eagle yet. Come. It is almost mid-day.” 

–

The longer they fought the bird the more confident Thalia became that her dad would not hit them with an orbital nuclear strike. 

Thalia entered into the next step of the quest with anxiety gripping her intestines and wiggling them around. On the advice of an immortal witch that Thalia hadn’t met- that Annabeth did not fully trust but Percy did- they were undoing a punishment laid out by her father on a Titan. In the middle of a quest where one of the most glaring lines of the prophecy said that one of their parents was going to kill them maybe. 

Thalia didn’t foresee Grover’s mama goat whopping him upside the head anytime soon. She was also pretty sure Zoë didn’t even HAVE parents- what even was she? A nymph? That left Sally and Percy- the less said about that the better. And then Thalia. Beryl Grace was out. So really she wasn’t entirely certain she should be kicking any beehives by pissing off her dad. 

But she was going to go along with it anyway. They didn’t have any better options, which was a glaring one. She also justified that Prometheus had been freed by Heracles and that wasn’t an issue back then. Zeus had also spared her life by turning her into a tree- so? Seventy-thirty on getting killed, right? 

The eagle had a wingspan of at least twenty-or-so feet, and at full height stood tall enough that it could match street lights. Each feather shone gold, bright and regal, before Thalia realized that they were only so golden because of the ichor that stained them. The less said about the state of all the gore they found the better.

Heracles had been able to beat the thing solo- with murdering it a lovely and convenient option. Instead, between the five of them, they’d needed to come up with something else. It had boiled down to Percy and Thalia coming together to use Aegis and the nearby water sources to push the bird into a trap set by Sally and Zoë- that way Grover could play a song on his reed pipes that sounded suspiciously like Justin Timberlake’s Sexy Back. 

Grass shot from the earth and entangled itself into powerful vines that restrained the eagle without hurting it too badly, though it cawed and screamed something awful until Thalia had jammed the butt of her spear into its head and sent it to bye bye land. As far as monster fights went, it was the best they had done against one this entire week. 

“Grover, what the fuck, man,” Thalia asked, “Sexy Back?” 

“Juniper likes that song,” Grover defended, “If she likes it, I like it.” 

With that done, they finally got a chance to see Prometheus. 

Greek Myth lessons at Camp always failed to properly paint the visage of whatever deity they happened to come across. Mortal and demigod painters from the old times painted their perception/interpretation of the gods either at the time or based on someone else. This meant that so many of Thalia’s mental images of how these guys would look were just buff, naked greybeards with angry faces. This included Prometheus. 

The reality was, he looked really young. Young, and dehydrated. A mop of stringy shoulder length black hair that parted on the center of his head. He wore Men’s khaki shorts that looked like they were from the 70s from how high up on his thighs they were. His tee shirt was too faded to read but Thalia thought she could make out some lettering. Being dyslexic, she wasn’t sure what that lettering said though. 

He was covered in ichor and breathing heavily, chained flat on his back to a rock in a clearing. They approached him slowly. Thalia wondered if she should have been in awe of the creator of her entire species. Instead she just thought he looked sad. The warm day seemed a touch chillier. 

Percy approached him first, pulling a plastic water bottle out of his bag and offering it to Prometheus without a word. Prometheus opened his mouth and accepted the water with gratitude. Whatever had them pressed about approaching Prometheus seemed to break then, and the other four questers moved to remove his manacles. 

“Thank you,” Prometheus finally said, “Hunters, demigods. I thank you.” 

“No prob,” Percy said, drawing Riptide and instead deciding to strike the chains off of Prometheus. They broke with a satisfying snap sound. With his arms freed, Prometheus pulled the remaining two off his legs with surprising strength that did not match his lanky build. 

“I know this was not done out of charity,” Prometheus said, but his smile wasn’t bitter, “but still. My thanks.” 

“Circe sent us,” Percy explained, “She said you might be able to help us.” 

“Circe?” Prometheus asked, and then in a wistful tone, muttered,  “Ah. Yes. I see. I see it now.” 

He didn’t say anything afterward. He simply looked off at the sun in the sky and continued to stretch his limbs. The group looked at one another, hesitant, before Thalia took the lead. 

“Sorry my dad chained you up again,” she admitted awkwardly, “I don’t think he should have done that.” 

“You are too kind, Thalia Grace,” Prometheus nodded, “I harbor you no ill will for his deeds.” 

“Do you need Ambrosia, lord?” Sally asked, “Nectar?” 

Prometheus shook his head. 

“Please, keep it for yourselves. You have a long road ahead,” Prometheus ceded, “And I have been waiting to try this…Wendy’s since I foresaw it.” 

The titan stretched and pulled the cuffs off of his wrists and ankles, rubbing the sore spots from where they’d gripped his appendages. He sighed in satisfaction. Thalia wondered who told him about Wendy’s because how does one foresee Wendy’s? 

“They have baked potatoes there,” Percy offered helpfully, “They’re pretty alright.” 

Sally laughed. Zoë glared at Percy, like what he had said was so remarkably stupid and off-topic she had to vaporize him with her approximation of Superman’s eye lasers. Grover added, 

“You can dip the french fries in your chocolate frosty. It’s really good!” 

Prometheus hummed in thought, as though that sounded genuinely appetizing. He began to work out some sort of knot in his ankle. Thalia, ADHD as she was, couldn’t imagine being nailed to a rock for fifty years. She’d rip all her hair out, or just combust into flames probably. Finally, Prometheus sighed and looked up at them with a sad smile. 

“Before we begin,” Prometheus started, “Know that my answers may not be as clear or as helpful as you may hope.”

“We need only thy direction, Lord,” Zoë pressed, stepping forward, “If it be in your power.” 

“Perhaps. Ask, brave niece,” Prometheus requested patiently and before Thalia could freak out about what he meant by that, Zoë had pursed her lips and asked. 

“We seek our lady Artemis. Thine prophecy states that we travel west. Please…tell us what we seek.” 

Something about Zoë’s tone was off. The way she phrased the question. Thalia couldn’t place why at that moment. Goosebumps spread across her arms and Thalia idly scratched at them. The air seemed chilly. Prometheus did not even stop to think about it, only directed the same sad smile to her, and shrugged his shoulders. 

“You know where you are heading, I’m afraid, Zoë Nightshade. The best path forward is a step backward.” 

Zoë’s face dropped. Disappointment broke out across her face. She turned away from Prometheus with a nod and Sally went to follow after her. That’s when it struck Thalia. Zoë knew where they were going this whole time. She just didn’t want to believe it. Nightshade had all the air of someone who’s just been told the worst news of their lives. 

Before she could turn around and say her goodbyes to Prometheus, he was talking again. He was talking directly to Percy now, leaning forward, and Thalia began to get the first vibe that something bad was about to happen. 

“Perseus Jackson. If it was Circe who sent you, it would not have been for as little a reason as direction,” he said slowly, sitting cross legged on the rock,  “I believe she would like me to assist in your current venture. As such, I have an offer to make of you.”

Danger. 

“What kind of offer?” Percy asked, his voice hard. Offers from immortality weren’t always good. 

“You walk a dangerous path,” Prometheus declared, “And you are at war with yourself.”

Prometheus glanced off to where Zoë and Sally were talking quietly in the glade a short distance away. Then he looked back to Percy, smiling sadly, as though he understood exactly what Percy was going through that week in an instant. 

“My condolences, by the by,” He told her friend. 

“Thanks.” Percy replied, face showing that he was in no way grateful. Prometheus was unphased. 

“I will not be untruthful to you,” Prometheus started, “I am no friend of Olympus. We are on the doorstep of war and I do not know if I should knock or simply walk away. Now that you’ve freed me, I’m free to choose whichever side I wish.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before, simultaneously, Percy and Thalia blurted out, word for word and beat for beat, “Hey, what the hell, hold on, we just saved you-” before they realized what they did and looked angrily at one another. Grover had stifled a smile. Before they could bicker with each other, however, Prometheus raised a hand and shook his head. 

“But let this be known- I have never sided against humanity. I will do what I feel best serves your kind in the end. Mortals and demigods alike,” Prometheus ceded. 

Thalia looked to Grover and then to Percy and she held a silent conversation with them. She thought it went something like- 

“Percy. You shouldn’t let him do the thing.” 

“Baa-aah-aah, I agree, let’s go eat napkins.”

“Me Percy and me gonna let him do the thing because me help everyone. Me have no self preservation.” 

Before Thalia could get a verbal protest out, Percy was talking to Prometheus again. 

“What kind of offer?” Percy asked again and Prometheus nodded. 

“I can show you the past. I can help you begin to understand, and turn the tide of war in your breast. And in return, you let me see your future.” 

“The past?” Percy asked, “Mine? Whose?” 

“Simply The Past, Perseus Jackson,” Prometheus nodded. 

“That’s not an answer,” Thalia protested, “Percy, I don’t like this.”

First, he tells them that he might go and join the Titans regardless of what they did for him, and then he wants to show Percy things. Nothing tangible, everything vague and stupid as gods always are. She wanted to hit something. Percy first, maybe Prometheus after. 

Because showing Percy something as bullshitly vague as the past, something Percy had less than favorable memories of, could not have been good for him at this point in time. He needed a buffer from all of that, especially when the source of his misery was standing barely a hundred paces away. 

He didn’t answer her. Instead, Percy asked, 

“Why my future?” 

Prometheus smiled, disarmingly gentle. 

“It is a hunch of mine. I am the Titan of forethought. Consider this my way of choosing sides.”

“So you’ll choose based on what you see in my future?” Percy asked him, glumly. Thalia thought he might just deflate and blow away with how depressed the idea seemed to make him. 

“Potentially,” Prometheus answered, unhelpfully. 

“Percy,” Thalia snapped, “I’m putting my foot down. Do not do this.” 

“This is a bad idea,” Grover protested weakly. He of all people had to know what Percy was feeling. 

He looked at her and Thalia’s heart stammered a beat at the look in his eyes. Fear, hopefulness, doubt and longing all in one. A lost, angry boy. Beaten down and kicked like a dog over and over all his life. He wanted to know about her. But he was horrified of knowing, but still he wanted to. Maybe he even felt like he had to do it. Thalia had vowed to save him, keep him safe. This seemed the opposite. 

“Guys,” Percy said, “I could get a Titan on our side. He could help us.” 

The protest was weak and Thalia saw right through it. Yet the idea of accosting him for wanting to know his mother didn’t strike her as wise. She wrestled with the idea. Grover looked uncomfortable. 

“Are you sure?” Grover asked, placatingly, and with a glance in her direction, Thalia realized that he was subtly sending a message. 

That they had to trust him, that if Percy was sure then they should trust him. And after a beat, Percy nodded. 

“I’m sure.” 

“Be careful,” Thalia said sadly. He nodded noncommittally, and Thalia lashed her hand out like a whip and grabbed his. “Please.” 

Percy’s stupor was shaken, and he blinked at her in surprise. She needed him to understand that she feared for him. Percy nodded, seeming to understand, but he took his hand away as though it made him uncomfortable. 

“I accept,” Percy told Prometheus, “What do I have to do?” 

“Join me,” Prometheus said, all seriousness but not outwardly unpleasant. The air seemed to be growing cold, despite the Florida heat. Percy scrambled up onto the rock with Prometheus, and the Titan gestured for him to take a seat, which he did, cross-legged. Prometheus leaned forward and seemed to get lost in thought, and just before the silence got uncomfortable, he raised his massive hand and wrapped it around the top of Percy’s scalp. 

“Hey-“ Percy tried to say, before his eyes widened, his pupils dilated, and he closed his eyes, silent. 

Thalia’s spear was out, Grover’s reed pipes already at his lips. 

“Percy? Percy!” She shouted, “Say something!” 

But he didn’t reply. Prometheus said nothing either, his eyes shut and his face twisted in thought. Nothing happened. Whatever was going on between them, there was no going back and no interrupting. Alerted by their cries, Zoë and Sally rushed back toward them. 

“What’s happening? What’s he doing to Percy?” Sally asked, her calm mask slipping as though she was genuinely concerned for him. Her lips were pursed and she scanned her son with kaleidoscopic eyes. 

Grover hurriedly explained and Sally seemed to grow pale. She said nothing, and Thalia felt a rogue wave of rage wash up into her throat and poison her words. 

“Why do you care? Why the fuck would you care?!” Thalia exploded, “You never did before- you don’t get to suddenly care now!” 

Zoë whirled as though she were about to dissuade or even hit Thalia, but Thalia had a finger in her face instantly, her anger entirely shifting focus onto the Hunter. 

“And you,” Thalia snarled, “You knew where we were going this entire time, and you said nothing?! He’s your uncle?” 

This was stupid. This whole quest was stupid. Here they were, trying to save Annabeth, and all they had for allies were two lying, conniving bitches who couldn’t give a shit about them. It was all so fake- and they could’ve been going to where they needed to go this whole time, instead Zoë had decided to keep her stupid mouth shut. Maybe Percy wouldn’t have volunteered for more traumatic revelations if they had just kept going. 

“Nay,” Zoë protested, “T’was an idea…I…it is…thou doth not knoweth what thee speaks!” 

“Speak English, for fucks sake!” Thalia snapped, “He wouldn’t have needed to do that if you’d just told us where we were going! What is it with you two? Why don’t you get that all this lying just fucking hurts people!” 

“Thalia,” Sally said, “I know how you’re feeling. But you need to calm down.”

“Go to hell!” Thalia cried, turning and pacing, trying to formulate her thoughts. There was a fog of red frustration that blanketed her thoughts, banishing rationality. She groaned, kicking the ground, and huffed. Her breath steamed. 

“Why the fuck is it so cold!?” She shouted, idly, still steaming. She blinked. The red was gone. Something was very wrong. Why the fuck was it so cold? They were in Florida. The others seemed to sense her dismay immediately, and their weapons (and pipes) were drawn. The air was deathly quiet, like an early morning after a heavy snowfall. 

Then she heard it. The faintest whiff sound, off to her right, and she turned as fast as she could, Aegis ready. Still, too slow. A projectile the size of her wrist KLANGED into her shield and threw her to the earth. Grover shouted her name, and Thalia tried to struggle to her feet. But she couldn’t move. She glanced to the right, and saw in horror, a blue shimmer spreading across her wrist, pinning her to the grown, bitingly cold. Ice. 

“Hey,” was all she could shout, before it spread over her like a tidal wave, and her vision went black. 

—

Percy was running, sprinting through the streets of New York City. The lower east? He was moving so fast that he couldn’t really focus on his surroundings, but he was vaguely aware that he was seeing the past. He was in a woman’s body again. The same? Or perhaps not. Either way, his breath was becoming ragged. 

He vaguely became aware of his right hand, which held a familiar silver blade. Where had he seen that before? Then without warning, he veered into a building with a sign that Percy could read clearly, recognizing in a flash that it was a daycare. He ripped the door open, and an female employee was raising their hands at her, placatingly, as if she were expected, saying, 

“Ma’am, please, he’s in there, he’s safe, please put the bat down-“ but Percy, or whoever he was, didn’t listen, simply rushed past them and into the brightly colored hallways, covered in equally colorful animals and childlike drawings. The whole place was disturbingly familiar. From where? 

And then, she burst through the door, pointed silver blade raised, like a fencing sword. In the center of the room was a toddler on a cot, back turned. He felt himself push forward, dropping down, reaching out to turn the black-haired child to look at her, and she said, 

“Percy?”

He turned to look at her. Her son, her beautiful baby boy. He smiled, showing a mouth full of baby teeth and already looking so much like him that her heart seized in her chest. She reached out and grabbed him, hugging him tight. He fidgeted, his hands wrapped around something that he pushed against her. 

“Maa,” he uttered, “Lookie!” 

She glanced down, wiping her wet eyes with her offhand. She choked. The attendants hadn’t bothered to get near him- they’d left the creatures in his bed. 

In his pudgy toddler hands, hands meant to play and grip hers tightly, were two sickly green and disgustingly shiny snakes. Strangled in his grip, their mouths hung open, teeth like needle points exposed to the open air. 

She screamed. 

When Percy blinked, he was still a girl, but the Day Care and his past self was gone. He was in a locker room, and the air was humid. Downright moist. The air was cloaked in steam, obscuring her view and making every step hesitant. Percy heard running water, and the occasional strange sound. It was difficult to describe. It was like a popping. 

“Claire?” The girl that Percy inhabited asked, “Are you okay?” 

Claire, the girl in the orange tee who’d started this semester. Percy felt like she was a good friend, that he’d known since last year. She’d been gone the whole summer, and come back different. 

“Leave,” a husky and feminine voice sounded from the deeper confines of the locker room. She did not. She walked. There was something wrong with the water that ran along the floor. It was discolored, and the brown tiled floor was hued red. 

Percy smelled iron, soap and…wet horse. He would know that scent anywhere, from his summers washing the pegasi. Instead of a large pointed silver sword, Percy noticed that all he had in her hand was a Swiss Army Knife, a miniscule weapon with a blade barely the size of her thumb. She walked further into the steamy tomb. 

“Claire,” she pressed, coming across the showers, “Please say something.” 

“Join her, Jackson,” that same voice whispered, in between the strange popping. “Let me love you.”

Sally rounded the corner. Splayed across the floor was the corpse of a girl, Claire, still wearing a heinous orange tee, though stained horribly. The monster had gotten her just before she showered. She was prone atop Claire, topless, claws revealed. Sally thought she was a cheerleader. 

The cheerleader looked up at her, with golden eyes blazing like the sun and teeth pointed, caked in blood. When Sally screamed, it smiled at her.

“Why are you showing me this?” Percy called into the void, “To make me feel bad?” 

“We had an agreement,” he heard Prometheus say, “Our time is short. The final piece…” 

“I don’t!” Percy lied, “I don’t feel bad! Not for her!”

The void became a tree house in early autumn, lined with sleeping bags and pillows. Miscellaneous junk food bags and containers were scattered about, and with the sun setting low in the back, light was provided by an oil lantern that looked as ancient as it probably was. Percy was his mother again, hugging a blanket around her shoulders for safety. The air still smelled of blood and horses 

“How art thou feeling?” A familiar voice said, and Percy noticed Zoë Nightshade, face unchanged from how he’d last seen her, sitting on a camping stool in the Tree House with her. Feelings of admiration blossomed in Sally’s chest, for the girl who’d taught her how to kill Monsters. 

“Better,” Sally said, “A little. I…” 

The dream blurred and salty tears spilled over and down her cheeks. Zoë was there, holding her hand and offering support, quietly. 

“I thought I could save her,” Sally managed to say, “But I’m just too…” 

“Hush, friend,” Zoë said, “The fault lies not with thee.”

“I’m too weak,” Sally blurted, “If I had-“ 

“No,” Zoë said firmly. “No. Thou'rt not at fault.”

“I saw her for what she was-“ Sally snapped back, “And I let her go with her! I-I thought I was crazy!”

“Nay,” Zoë soothed, “Nay. It is hard, I know it. But thou’rt so much stronger than thee believes.” 

Percy’s throat felt like it’d grown a cinder block. More tears. Sally hugged the Huntress, and after a moment she held her back until Sally had calmed herself again. 

“I’ll kill her,” Sally promised, “I’ll kill it. She won’t… your sisters. Other demigods. I’m going to keep them safe from her.” 

She looked at Zoë Nightshade, who nodded back. 

“I will help you, Sally Jackson.” 

And Percy was turning, trying to find an exit, trying to find Prometheus, feeling hysterical. 

“Am I just supposed to…what do I do with this?” Percy shouted, “This means nothing!” 

“What you do with it,” Prometheus said, “is entirely up to you.” 

The void dropped, and when Percy opened his eyes he was frigid cold. 

–

The blue sky and swampy greens of outer Jacksonville were washed away, bleached with falling snow and frozen stalactites that jutted around them like circling piranhas. Prometheus was sitting in front of him, unperturbed, merely looking around in confusion. Percy tried to turn and look around, but he couldn’t. His entire body was frozen from the neck down, pinned to the rock. He could barely move his hands, stationed just above his pockets. At most, he could barely reach inside. 

Prometheus, still across from him, looked unperturbed and deep in thought. There was no ice covering him, his raggedy clothes didn’t even have frost on them. The titan glanced up to the sky, and Percy tried to follow his gaze. 

Wispy shapes descended from the sky above, like black mist, and they took on the shape of wild horses, lean and muscled, angered. Campers and hunters face ice and snow, Percy remembered. He looked for his friends. 

He caught sight of Zoë, Sally, and Grover, currently encircled by the horses. Where was Thalia? Zoë had her bow out with an arrow knocked, threatening, though Percy for some reason doubted that they could even hit these horses. One sparked with what looked like internal lightning and charged intimidatingly toward the group. 

Quick as a flash, Sally Jackson’s rapier-like blade lashed out, sparking and glowing a sicky green. She held it aloft without fear, prodding the horse spirit  into retreating back. Percy blinked. His mom could light her sword with Greek fire? 

“Where’s Thalia?” Percy called, “I’m stuck!” 

“Percy!” Grover called, “We’ll get you out!” 

“Non,” a familiar voice laughed, “You will not, little heroes.” 

From the tree line, a lumbering beast appeared. Its bug-like tail swayed in the wind, each step thudding against the ground. The man from Westover Hall, who’d taken Annabeth. Doctor Thorn, the Manticore. 

“Yes, indeed,” another voice, equally French, but female, “You are both in my clutches now, demigods.” 

Percy whipped his head toward it. Floating above the ground now, a few feet away, were more of those storm-horses, these ones bridled with white leather and whinnying like thunder in a huff. Each was reigned up to a chariot made of ice, and in that chariot was a goddess. 

Percy was getting good at recognizing them- tho in fairness with her it was pretty obvious. She was otherworldly, impossibly pale, with a simple white chiton. She didn’t seem to acknowledge the cold, instead she watched from on high with a stoic, cold stare. 

“And who are you supposed to be, Narnia?” Percy found himself saying. Nevermind that he hadn’t seen that movie in years, and thus, did not remember what exactly Narnia was, it seemed like a good insult at the time. 

“Careful, Perseus Jackson,” Thorn said, closer now, “You cannot possibly avoid anything fatal, now.” 

“Where’s Annabeth, you asshat?” Percy snapped, “Where did you take her?” 

Thorn laughed.

“You need not worry! You will see her again, very soon.” 

The white witch knockoff ahem-ed from her chariot and Thorn deferred to her. Percy looked back to her as the standoff continued. Two hunters and a satyr against an army of horses, a goddess, and a manticore. Unless Prometheus… Percy noted that the Titan was watching them all, deep in thought but present. The goddess spoke. 

“I am Khione,” she said, “Goddess of Ice and Snow.” 

Tension began to read its head- being forced to face off with a deity was never something a demigod wanted to do on their quest, but before he could even think a wave of confusion bit his synapses. 

“You made that up,” Percy blurted. Grover fought a laugh, “Greece was warm. Why would they need a snow goddess?” 

Stalactites sprouted from around the ground and poked into Percy’s throat, holding him in place, each spike a millimeter away from piercing the skin. Khione’s face was a mask of hatred. 

“They believed the same, once, little demigod. But I assure you…you are in my domain, now.”

Percy made a passive attempt to assess his surroundings. Think. Adapt. He was coated in ice. If he wanted to, could he melt it? Ice was solid water after all. He focused, hard, and his gut tightened. The goddess merely laughed. 

“Oho! So it is true. You really do not listen!” Khione said smugly, “Try all you wish. This ice is mine.” 

Percy’s hands groped at his pockets, desperately. There had to be something, anything he could do. But he couldn’t reach Riptide, and even then, couldn’t get the cap off without stabbing himself. Percy looked back to Prometheus, who was still thinking, nonplussed. If he was going to choose whether to help them or the Titans, now would be a pretty good time for it. 

But the titan did not answer him. He just looked harrowed, and confused. And Percy’s stomach sank. 

“Uh, sir,” Percy said, “Did you uh…pick a side? What did you see?” 

“Yes,” Khione smiled, “Great Prometheus. Tell us, should we send for a steed? You are free to travel home with us as you wish.”


“Lady Khione,” Prometheus greeted, not unkindly, “your arrival was expected, though I admit I believed myself to have more time.” 

That didn't sound good. There was no way he could’ve seen something that bad that he’d immediately opt to work with Luke, right? Prometheus rose and raised his hands placatingly.

“I ask for amnesty, to be removed from this skirmish and take no part in it. I am afraid I have much to consider. Should I opt to provide my services to Kronos, you will know of it. Likewise for the Olympians.” 

“Really?!” was all Percy could think to shout, “You want more time to think about it?” 

“Very well,” Khione nodded, “You are free to walk.” 

Prometheus did not walk away with grace, nor did he disappear in a flash of gold or lightning like a god. He did not turn into a bird and take wing. He stepped slowly over to the great eagle, pinned still in Grover’s nature magic, and ripped the magic aside, freeing the great bird. The bird shrank as it took flight, landing on Prometheus raised bicep. He turned and waved, as if he was were a friend leaving a gathering to pick up a shift at work. 

“We will meet again, Perseus!” Prometheus called, “Consider words!” 

And with that he was gone. Percy wanted to call him any number of curse words or swears he had mustered in his considerable repertoire- or maybe to put him back on that rock and rip his liver out himself. But the way he said that parting words stood out to Percy. What did he mean by that? Consider words? What words? Whose words? What had he seen in his future that was so outrageously hard to call? 

“Goddess,” Sally Jackson said, and Percy looked at her. Khione tutted and turned her head to observe her.

“What do you want, mortal?” Khione sighed, “Your flaming sword does not frighten me.” 

“No,” Sally said, “But it’s keeping your ice away just fine. What do you want from us?” 

“There is nothing that you could give me that I want, hunter,” Khione said, “I am here on behalf of the boy, Luke. He simply wanted these two preserved…so they could chat. He said nothing of keeping either of your companions alive.” 

The ground around Sally Jackson was free of snow, and Percy realized that the Greek Fire had acted as a buffer between her and Khione’s magic, keeping the ice from sweeping over them. But how long would that barrier hold up when Khione and her minions went after them? Percy grasped and grasped, feeling the tenseness before the fight began. And as Sally raised her blade to fend off Khione, Percy’s fingers closed around the only other thing he had in his pocket. 

“Hey, how come you even want to do what Luke says? Like, what’s up with that?”


“I’ve gone disrespected by my father and brothers, denizens like you, for millennia. No longer,” Khione said, almost as if she had it ready. She turned to face Percy. Any annoyance on her face dissipated, and she watched with a detached expression. Percy blinked. An idea crossed his mind then, and he gripped the Scarf of Aphrodite tighter in his hand. Doctor Thorn watched, confusedly, his gaze shifting to Khione. 

Consider words! 

“I think Luke’s just using you,” Percy said, trying to emulate a shrug as best he could, “Like, he totally knows you could kick his ass if you put your mind to it.” 

“I agree with you?” Khione nodded, her head tilting, as if shocked to be saying it, “I was tempted to conceal him in ice and keep him for all of time.”

“He’s so manipulative like that though. How about this- you should let us go and leave. Then we can go and kick his ass on your behalf. How’s that?”

“Hm,” Khione said, as if the idea was deeply appealing to her, “Very well.”

“My lady-!” Thorn shouted, indignantly, and in less than a second, the ice evaporated from Percy’s flesh and he shot to his feet, bringing his arms up high. With Khione’s mind clouded from the magic of Aphrodite’s scarf, Percy’s control over the ice and snow in the field was absolute. The field became a small, churning lake as hundreds of gallons of water washed into Thorn and sent Khione flying from her chariot. 

Khione’s strange storm-horses reared and roared, like the crashing of thunder, and strained against their bonds. Regardless of how good a drop Percy had gotten on Khione, he did not not trust their chances against her once she had a chance to recover. Riptide in hand, he shouted to his companions. 

“Grover, the chariot!” 

“Percy!” Sally called, in warning, and the hairs on the back of Percy’s neck shot up. A lion roared from the trees and he immediately ducked and rolled. The Manticore’s darts flew over his head and sailed harmlessly off into the distance before the beast itself threw itself from the underbrush, human mouth and sharpened teeth bared for all the world to see, prepared to turn Percy into the world's most cursed Lunchable. Just as Percy raised his sword, a shaft of silver sprouted from Thorn’s tongue, and instead of chowing down on Percy, Thorn cried out in rage and barreled into Percy, throwing him onto his back. 

Thorn shouted profanities, voice heavy with a mix of his French accent and a tongue speared with a silver arrow. Percy lurched to his feet just in time for Sally Jackson to join him, green sword ablaze, standing up beside him to face Thorn while Grover shouted behind them, struggling to get hold of the chariot. 

The sky, which blackened with the winter storm, grew darker still. No longer thrown for a loop, Khione emerged from the woods, her face a mask of pure rage that was so cold it burned. 

“Love magic, demigod? I will taxiderm your corpse in ice for all of my lord’s army to see.” 

“That’d be the first memorable thing you’ve ever done,” Sally snapped, and Percy realized where he had gotten his tongue from. He almost laughed. Khione did not. They charged the goddess and Manticore together.

As Percy rushed Thorn, the wounded manticore swished his tail in defiance, aiming to bat Percy away. By now, Percy saw Thorn for what he was. A lackey to Luke, a lackey to The General, a lackey to a minor goddess. The Manticore was Persian in origin, and in all the lessons Annabeth tried to hard to drill into his skull, Percy could not name a single hero who had slew it. That only excited him. This was the monster who had taken Annabeth away, the thing that got him on this stupid quest to begin with. It was going back to the pit today. 

 Percy ducked the swing and stabbed outward, forcing Thorn to leap back and grow distance between the two of them. Khione avoided Sally’s blade like a woman possessed, blasting ice magic at the hunter that she expertly avoided, stepping in close and trying to harry the goddess like a professional fencer. Percy reached into his pocket, watching as Thorn moved to throw more of his poisoned spikes at him, snarling. And just before he could, Percy ripped Aphrodite’s Scarf from his pocket and called out, “FALL!” 

Thorn hissed like an alley cat submitting, his prior attack forgotten, back arching as he fell back in fear. And in that instant, Percy lashed out to his right. Thorn turned to avoid, though as the scarf’s magic twisted his actions, he did not see Percy’s feint maneuver coming. In a clean arc, Riptide cleaved through Thorn’s tail like a hot knife through butter. 

“Jackson-” Thorn tried to snarl but without another word, Percy ran Riptide into his exposed throat. With a puff of golden dust, Thorn was no more. It didn’t make him feel better. 

“Worthless beast!” Khione cried, and in a puff of snow she disappeared from Sally’s side. Cold wind rushed forth, like a tempest let loose, and Percy slipped off his feet and crashed down beside Sally. Khione loomed in the air above like a ghost, her arms raised. Cold bit and clawed at Percy, and the ground beneath him formed ice that seemed to grab hold of him once more. 

“Percy!” Sally cried, on her feet, rushing to Percy’s side before a stalactite of ice whipped from Khione’s hand and nearly impaled her. Khione’s hands raised, and the ice that surrounded his skin began to sharpen, pushing down into him, pricking his skin, the stabbings growing deeper. Percy screamed. 

Thunder rumbled. With a crash, the brightest bolt of lightning Percy had seen since Zeus connected with the goddess, blowing her back and into the nearest tree, dragging it down in a mass of snapping, crackling wood and smoke. Sally was by Percy’s side quickly and the ice that held him in place fell away under her blade. Percy turned. 

Now awake from her tenure of being frozen, Thalia stood shivering on the back of the Chariot, evidently woken by Zoë. Apart from looking frozen, she seemed okay. She regarded Percy and Sally with rushed annoyance. 

“Well?! Get the fuck on already!”

Scrambling, Percy and Sally jumped into the back of the Chariot, with Grover at the reins. 

“Do you even know how to ride one of these things?” Percy asked, and all Grover could do was bleat in response. The air began to smell of ozone. 

“Storm Spirits,” Sally said, “They’re impossibly fast. Better hold on.” 

“I can’t do this-” Thalia began to try and say, before the Storm Spirits began to circle, running on air, spiraling up into the air. Thalia latched out and grabbed hold of Grover. Thunder boomed again. 

“INSECTS!” Khione called from somewhere beneath them. The chariot lurched and Thalia screamed in a way Percy had never heard her scream before. The straps that held the Storm Spirits in their reins snapped as Khione lashed ice and snow at them from below. It became the perfect recipe for the bumpiest ride any of them could imagine. 

“Oh shit-” was all Sally could say before the Storm Spirits shot forward, all in different directions, and the last thing Percy knew was that he was moving impossibly fast across the sky and away from the chariot.