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A sigh escaped Percy's mouth as Apollo hooked his foot around his ankle, cheekily swinging it back and forth.
They were on the shore of Delos, sitting on the green grass that was improbably soft and dry for being so close to the ocean—but then, that was the advantage of dating a god.
He snuck a look at his boyfriend.
Apollo was radiant, of course—but then, he always was.
He was in the form he most often took with Percy—that of a young adult. The breeze whistled through his golden hair, and his blue eyes ringed with gold were fixed on him with the intensity of a thousand suns—ironic, considering who this was—as he strummed on his Valdezinator.
Percy had never had the heart to tell him that Leo had made that thing on a whim, consumed by his memories of Ogygia.
He would never tell him that he almost understood, that Calypso's island had been the biggest what-if of his life, once upon a time.
He didn't pay much attention to the myths about his boyfriend—the gods were so different nowadays from what they'd been then, and he didn't believe in judging people by their pasts—the cognitive dissonance of which he'd first perfected with his father, twelve and killing Medusa.
But he still knew better than to tell him about the wistfulness he felt for Ogygia.
"A drachma for your thoughts," Apollo hummed.
He huffed a laugh. "They're not worth that much."
Apollo let the instrument drop to his lap, one of his hands coming up to cradle Percy's cheek. The contact almost burned, as it always did.
He carefully guided his lips onto Percy's, and he had to smile as they kissed. "They're worth everything," he declared,
He laughed freely: "Some might disagree."
Apollo frowned. "What do you mean?"
Percy stared at him, suddenly uneasy. Apollo had never been reticent about his dislike of that particular relationship of his—even though it had been entirely platonic for years. "Annabeth? Her nickname for me?"
Apollo made a noise of realization. "Athena's girl, you mean," he mused.
"Yeah," he replied slowly. How had Apollo—a god—managed to forget about Percy's best friend? "Speaking of whom, I miss her."
"Do you, now." Percy didn't find many things intimidating these days, but the soft menace in Apollo's tone made the hairs on his arm rise up.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Delos was so beautiful, so otherworldly, telling the days and time was hard.
"You could say that."
He cleared his throat. "I'd like to go home. I want to see my mom again."
Mom hadn't been happy when he'd told her about his relationship with Apollo. "Gods do not make good partners, Percy," she'd warned. "They will only hurt you."
"I'm half one, Mom," had been his reply.
She'd pursed her lips, but relented.
Nevertheless, part of him had always stung that his mother didn't approve of someone quite possibly the love of his life.
"You are home," Apollo retorted.
A laugh sputtered out of him. "Apollo, don't get me wrong—I love it here. But it's not my home."
"It can be," his boyfriend insisted.
Percy stared at him, bewildered. "Where is this coming from?"
"This is my home." He was sulking now. "Don't you want it to be yours too?"
Alarm bells were ringing in his head. He got up, backing away, only to bump into a firm chest.
Apollo.
Behind him, and also in front.
Outside of the occasional sexual experiment, his boyfriend had never used his powers like this.
"Olympus is your home," he tried.
"Not when you refused to become part of it," Apollo returned, both versions of him eerily speaking together.
"Well, I'm refusing to be part of this, too," he said firmly.
"Are you?" Apollo said silkily, suddenly switching tracks. "That just can't be allowed to happen."
And with a click of his boyfriend's fingers, Percy found himself in their chambers. He stumbled back. "What are you doing? This isn't funny, Apollo!"
Apollo no longer looked his age—he looked like one of those marble Greek statues, was wearing a toga. His expression was serious.
It was then that it began to dawn on Percy that this was not a nightmare.
This was real, and actually happening.
"You're right, it isn't. I'll be back when you're more amenable to understanding," Apollo said smoothly, before vanishing in a nearly blinding flash of light.
"Understanding?!" Percy yelled. "Understanding what?!"
Beyond furious, he kicked at the dressing table.
It took hours of pacing before he finally sat—and not on the bed or couch where they'd had so many happy times.
It took days for this fury to die down into despair.
He blinked blearily up at his so-called boyfriend from the floor.
"Why are you sleeping there?" Apollo chided gently, wrapping a fleece blanket around his shoulders.
Percy shrugged it off. "Where have you been?" he demanded.
"Why? Did you miss me?" He had the audacity to sound fucking playful.
"No," he lied. "I want to go home," he continued with the truth.
Apollo's smile died. "Are you still going to be stubborn? I told you—this is your home now."
He set his jaw. "My home is New York."
Apollo opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to change his mind. He sighed, getting up.
It made Percy feel like a fucking child, being knelt in front of and then towered over.
"I see you haven't accepted the state of things yet. I'll be back when you do."
Percy, prepared to yell, hurriedly backtracked in panic at the second sentence. "No!" he blurted out. "Don't leave!"
He caught his boyfriend's hand, and the touch, as always, burned a little.
He'd found it comforting, once.
Now it just made him godsdamn sick.
Apollo carded a hand through Percy's hair and his eyes closed at the touch, leaning into it and resisting the urge to whine.
It had only been a few days, and yet—this was fucking pathetic.
"Will you accept your circumstances, then?" Apollo asked softly.
He couldn't lie to the god of truth.
"I want you here," he said instead, because as much as he hated it, hated him, that was the truth.
Eventually, a plan began to form.
One day, when Apollo was gone—whether to attend to his duties or to bother Artemis or carouse the mortal world, he didn't know—he closed his eyes, trying to pinpoint fluid.
Delos was an island.
There was water everywhere.
In the air, surrounding it, on it.
When Percy could begin to feel it, he slowly lifted it, urging it to come to him, to take him away, to get him away from here—
"What exactly do you think you're doing?" came a thundering voice.
Fuck.
He slowly looked up, gritting his teeth not to wince when he came face-to-face with a divinely, angrily glowing Apollo.
"Going home," he said plainly.
Apollo sighed suddenly, seemingly not angry anymore. Percy held himself very still when his boyfriend reached out to stroke his cheek. "I should have known you wouldn't give in so easily," he mused. "It's one of the things I love most about you."
Despite everything, when Apollo said the word 'love', his stomach flip-flopped. "Love?" he managed to croak out.
His boyfriend shot him an odd look. "Of course, love. Do you think I would put all this effort in, tolerate this much disrespect for anything else?" He shook his head vehemently. "I will not have you meet the same fate as my other lovers."
Despite himself, he began to soften. "I won't get turned into a plant, Apollo. I'm different from the others. You don't need to keep me imprisoned—"
"Imprisoned?" Apollo echoed, sounding surprised. "Percy, of course you're not a prisoner!"
He glanced around the ostentatious chambers pointedly. "Can I leave here?"
"No, but well—you can have anything else you want!"
"Okay. I want Annabeth."
A scowl appeared on the god's face. "What is with you and that girl? You promised me there's nothing between you!"
"She's still my best friend," he exhaled harshly. "And I'd like to see her and Mom and Paul and my other friends again."
"I'm afraid that's not possible."
"Why not? Just let me go!"
"Never," Apollo hissed, and the whole island seemed to echo that word.
Percy reeled back, swallowing.
The possessiveness had once been hot.
Now it was hot and frightening.
His boyfriend calmed down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Despite himself, he leaned into it, closing his eyes.
"You'll get used to this arrangement," Apollo said, thumb rubbing the swell of his cheek.
"No, I will not," he insisted.
"It'll take time, probably," Apollo mused to himself, ignoring Percy. "But when you realize you can't escape we'll go back to how it was before."
"We can go back to it if you just take me back home," Percy attempted to persuade.
"And have you so close to death all the time?" he snapped in return. "In the Fates' name, I will not let that happen."
"I am going to die anyway," he pointed out.
"Not on Delos," Apollo said smugly. "This being my island trumps all powers—even immortality."
Percy felt dizzy. "I—I'm immortal here?"
"Does that make you more likely to stay?" His boyfriend sounded hopeful now.
He sneered. "I refused immortality at sixteen, refused to stay on Ogygia—what makes you think I'm any different now?"
"I might have thought you would want to stay with me," Apollo said lowly, and he realized he'd made the god angry.
And death would be better than life as a prisoner, but he wanted to be alive to see his family again.
"I do," he said, realizing, surprised, as he said it, that it was the truth. "But not like this."
"Nor always, right?"
"That too," he admitted, since Apollo would certainly check for a lie in that answer.
He let his fingers dig into his boyfriend's curly golden hair, tugging him closer, another plan forming in the time their lips met, which almost disappeared as Apollo pushed stubbornly to take control of it, and he almost lost himself in the sensations.
His mother had once told him that she'd been different when pregnant.
If he could somehow. . .
He forced a smile, leaning back. "Come to bed with me," he pleaded. "I can't use it without you."
That was true—ever since Apollo had revealed his true self, he couldn't possibly lie down on it without remembering all the good times.
Apollo hesitated.
"Apollo," he whined, catching the other's lips with his teeth. "I've missed you."
He, naturally, gave in.
Why couldn't he be that easy in terms of letting him go?
The sea didn't like to be restrained.
Delos, Apollo's place of birth and power or not, was no different in that respect.
Especially when Percy had the god's essence spilling out of him.
He screamed his torment into a tornado and let it sweep him up and away with it the moment Apollo flashed away, still when he and Percy were in bed together.
He heard the god's scream of fury, but didn't let that stop him, using the storm, feeling the ocean around him to power himself further.
Percy had expended too much strength—he washed up on some shore. unconscious, just hoping, praying that it was anywhere but Delos.
He woke to shocked screams.
"Where am I?" he demanded from one of the—mortals, thank the gods, or rather, not—leaping to his feet.
The man just looked bewildered. "Where—? Earth, of course!"
"Where on earth?" he pressed, wondering if this guy was high.
"What do you mean?" This was someone else, tone suggesting she thought he was mad.
"America, Europe, Asia?" Percy listed out impatiently, anxiously looking around, expecting his boyfriend to materialize anywhere out of thin air.
Someone made a sound of realization. "He means the old continents. The ones that merged together almost a century ago."
It took him a long moment to understand.
Then he closed his eyes and wished he had drowned on the way here.
In a daze, he wandered around.
A kindly couple took pity on me and got him food.
He realized he'd never once felt hunger on Delos,—a sign that he'd had no idea how much time was passing— and suddenly was sick enough not to need eat this either.
He couldn't risk going to Camp Half-Blood, since that was the first place Apollo would expect him to seek out.
He didn't know where it was anymore either.
There was no America. The entire world had merged back into Pangea.
There was only one place he could go anymore, where he could possibly be safe from Apollo.
He dove back into the ocean.
Percy swam deep down, accessing one of the portals to the undersea palace he'd only been to a few times.
Fish chattered about him and his presence, and considering how fast gossip travelled, he supposed he oughtn't to be surprised that his father was there to greet him at the gates.
"How did you not find me, in all these years?" His voice shook.
"You agreed to go to Delos with him," Poseidon pointed out mildly.
Percy exploded: "For a few days! To visit his birthplace, somewhere important to him!" Tears tickled the back of his throat. "How was I supposed to know he didn't care about what was important to me?"
Was. He'd used the word was.
He was getting used to it.
He felt like throwing up.
"What matters," Poseidon said slowly. "Is that you gave consent, my son. I am sorry you regret it, but there is nothing that can be done anymore."
"Why didn't you look for me?" he whispered.
Poseidon scowled. "Of course I did."
"At least do him the courtesy of not lying to his face, Father," came a drawl Percy instantly recognized.
"Triton," Poseidon warned.
But Triton didn't listen, forging on ahead: "He knew exactly where you were. He and Apollo made a deal after you nearly died bringing that half-blood to Camp. As long as Apollo kept you safe, he wouldn't object, and would lead those actually looking for you astray—"
"That is ENOUGH!" Poseidon roared, even as Percy trembled with rage and horror, and felt about a hundred undersea volcanoes erupt.
"You did that? How could you, Dad?" he croaked.
"My son—" Poseidon reached out for him.
"Don't fucking call me that," he spat. "You have no right to call me that—when you took me from the only two people who did."
"Paul Blofis was not your father," Poseidon snapped, and Percy's heart clenched at the 'was'. "I am."
"Not anymore you aren't," he breathed. "Where did you send Triton?"
His brother was nowhere to be seen.
"That is no business of yours," Poseidon dismissed. "He will be dealt with."
"For the crime of what? Of telling me the truth?"
"For telling you something you did not need to know," he corrected.
Percy bit his tongue so hard he could feel the metallic taste of blood fill his mouth.
Where would Poseidon send Triton?
The palace, naturally.
"At least tell me you can keep me safe from him," he said finally.
Poseidon softened. "Of course, son. You had only to just say the word."
I shouldn't have needed to! he wanted to scream.
And how could he trust his father to keep his word when he'd already consented once to let Apollo take Percy?
No. As soon as he made sure Triton was okay, he was leaving.
It didn't take long to find him. Poseidon had given him full access to the palace.
He wondered about Zeus. How he had agreed to this.
But then, his uncle did not care for mortals much, even his own children.
Thalia. She would still be alive, hopefully.
But with Artemis, who was Apollo's closest confidant.
Had she known?
He couldn't bear the thought.
"Why tell me?" he asked his brother, pressing his hands to his back, so hard he almost lost feeling in them.
Triton stared at him, lips twisted in contempt. "Half-blood brother or not, you deserve that much consideration. Although not as much as Father chose to bestow on you."
"Consideration?" he spat. "He ripped me away from my life, from everything I hold dear!"
"What about Phoebus? Is he not someone you hold dear?"
Percy jerked back.
From inside his cell, Triton smiled grimly. "I suspect I'll be seeing you, little brother."
Triton was wrong.
He would not.
After releasing his brother, his next stop was the Underworld.
It wasn't too hard to find the location—he just had to slay a few monsters before one of them told him.
He could feel himself becoming colder, more like a god, uncaring of the world around him.
But that why he needed this.
Because how was he supposed to care for a world that had none of his loved ones in it?
He didn't have coins to bribe Charon with, but he was easily persuaded when Riptide was held at his throat.
Percy was dangerous and had no qualms about making sure people knew it anymore.
He didn't kill Cerberus, though—that seemed like a sure shot way to get on Hades and Persephone's bad side.
If she was there. He hadn't really paid much attention to which season it was in the upper world.
Would this be easier or harder if she was there?
It didn't matter, as it turned out.
"Uncle, please," he begged Hades. "Just my mother, or Annabeth. Even your son or daughter!"
Hades had an odd look of pity on his face, not even angry about his breaking in. "I cannot bend the rules for any mortal, nephew. Hero of Olympus or not. And I have had many children since Nico and Hazel."
This felt like a slap.
Hades, the only one who hadn't broken his oath, had had multiple other children since his friends.
Of course he had. It had been more than a century since the great prophecy.
"You wouldn't have done this to them," he swallowed.
Hades raised an eyebrow. "What do you think the Lotus Hotel and Casino was, then?"
"Right. Right." Percy teetered on his feet. The world felt unsteady—but then, it had ever since he'd left Delos.
He'd loved the place, then loathed it.
But it had always been certain, safe.
"But. . . They're dead."
"No one recognizes the necessity of death more than me," Hades pointed out. "Die, and you may see your family again."
It was obviously intended as a dismissal, not a suggestion.
But his uncle ought to have remembered whom he was talking to.
It was fitting, Percy thought.
That the same monster who'd once taken his mother away from him would return her to him. His second kill, first real one, first spoil of war, one he'd fought while on the Styx's blessing and was rearing for vengeance.
Percy had beaten the Minotaur multiple times before.
It would rankle to purposely lose—but it could never measure up to the bliss he'd get at seeing his loved ones again.
"Hey, ground beef," he grinned at the half-man half-bull it had taken quite a bit of effort to find. "Come get me!"
The Minotaur growled, rushing straight at him.
It was instinct to dodge—and besides, the angrier he made him, the likelier it was that his death would be quick.
And he wanted it to be fast. As soon as possible.
Riptide expanded in his hand and he slashed it experimentally.
The adrenaline of being in a good fight was eternally unsurpassed.
Except perhaps by Apollo's kisses.
But he wasn't thinking about that.
He didn't want to fight this, he reminded himself as he wove through the Minotaur's increasingly erratic attacks, getting a good wound on the monster.
So desperately had he worked to live for most of his short, miserable life that it was hard to fight against the voice in his head urging him not to take this lying down.
It was easier once the Minotaur got a slash in along his torso.
Pain like great flames burned along it. He stumbled and fell to one knee.
If he wanted to live, there were still things he could do. He could use the water in the air—even though he'd purposefully chosen a place as far away from water bodies as possible—he could work through the pain.
But he didn't.
He exhaled as the Minotaur kicked him: once, twice, then again, curling up against the blows but not doing more than that.
He was quickly losing the feeling in his legs;
As the world faded, hands grabbed him and the places they touched burned.
And he smiled, knowing Apollo was there to see him die.
Which might explain how devastated he was to wake up to his boyfriend's face.
"What were you thinking," Apollo brushed Percy's hair out of his face, sounding frantic as he held Percy to him.
He viciously bit down on the old urge to comfort him, surrender to his whims.
"I was thinking," he snarled, pushing his ex away from him, nearly falling off the bed in the process. "That I would like to see my family again."
Apollo's eyes glowed. His touch began to burn even more. "You did that willingly? You would leave me?"
"You took EVERYTHING from me!" Percy couldn't control his grief anymore—it spilled out into the world. He sensed tsunamis, storms, ships capsizing and sinking.
Even though he was on Olympus. He recognized Annabeth's designs for Apollo's palace, and athe sharp pain of grief lanced through him.
"I gave you everything," Apollo corrected. "Do you know what any of my former lovers would give to have me do this for them?"
"I don't care."
"Besides," Apollo's voice was cruel now, mocking. "Your mother chose rebirth."
Percy froze, every inch still. "What?" he asked softly.
"Sally Jackson Blofis does not exist anymore," Apollo continued. "Neither do most of your friends, as a matter of fact. Heroes. Always wanting more. And that more is being offered to you—"
Percy couldn't believe Apollo was trying to spin this back around to his proposition again. "You're lying," he shook his head vehemently. "How would you know?"
"Called in a few favours with Uncle Hades." Apollo propped his chin up on his hand and Percy hated, despised, loathed how casually handsome he looked while he destroyed his world. "He might not listen to mortals, but he does to gods."
It was such an obvious bait, Percy didn't take it.
He'd find out if that was the truth when he died.
And if they had gone into the Lethe, never to return. . . .
Well, he'd have that option too.
"Never," Apollo shone so brightly Percy had to shield his eyes. "That is never going to happen. You will never have that opportunity."
"You can't force godhood on me," he reminded viciously, loving seeing the pained panic in Apollo's eyes—a minuscule fraction of what he felt.
His hands fluttered anxiously. "I will go to your father, my father, the Fates—"
"That doesn't change the fact that I have to accept, willingly and of sound mind," he laughed hysterically. "And fool me once."
Apollo couldn't trick him into accepting godhood the way he had with the offer to visit Delos.
The god kissed him, viciously, and Percy returned it with all the little strength he had. He tasted golden ichor on his teeth and he laughed crazily.
"Become a god, Percy," he pleaded—and look at that. A god reduced to this: begging. "Stay with me."
Percy took immense pleasure in giving a firm refusal.
"Why won't you love me back?!" he cried out.
He laughed. "Of course I love you," he hissed through his teeth. "All this would be so much easier if I didn't."
"You—you do love me?"
He tried to shift and immense pain twanged through his body. "Yes," he said through gritted teeth. "Very reluctantly."
"Then why won't you become a god? My equal?" he whispered.
"Because I have no desire to be immortal or under my uncle's thumb," he told him.
"I will protect you from my father! So will Uncle P!"
"I could not trust either of you enough for that," he said wearily, lifting a shaky hand to press to his eyes.
Once upon a time, he'd given his heart to this god. It hadn't been too long a time ago.
But it seemed like forever, the time between them and now.
"Tell me what I can do," he pleaded. "To earn your trust."
"Nothing," he laughed harshly. "You did have it. I might have even accepted godhood if you'd asked—"
"Lie," Apollo said at once.
"Lie," he agreed. "I wouldn't have. But we could have talked about it. Instead you fucking kidnapped me."
"You agreed to come!"
"Not for a century! I missed everything—my family's lives, my—" He cut himself off. "I don't even know if I had a brother or a sister."
Mom had been pregnant when he'd left for Delos, he remembered. He'd hugged her and promised to be back soon. He'd been supposed to go with Annabeth to a work function at her architecture firm.
"A sister," Apollo answered. "Estelle."
"Like my grandmother." Percy digested this. How had his mother felt, having to have another child while the first one was gone? Had she known she would never see him again?
"If you love me—"
"How could you even question that?!"
"Then how could take me away from them? Them from me? I'm never going to see them again if what you say is true! How would you like if that happened to you and Artemis?"
Apollo seemed struck. "That—I—if I had you, it would be enough!"
Percy stared at his boyfriend incredulously.
Once upon a time, he'd thought himself unlovable.
As much as he hated this, he couldn't deny it was flattering—no, wondrous—to be loved this much.
"You did have me," he said, unable to stop the grief for their relationship from leaking into his voice.
"And you would've left me for the Underworld," Apollo pointed out, voice shaking.
"Death is only natural."
"You have never been ordinary; why would you want to follow that path?"
"Because some things are not meant to be controlled."
Apollo fell silent.
Percy tried to get up again; failed.
It seemed the god had healed him just enough to have a conversation.
"Are you going to keep me prisoner again?" he asked tiredly.
He was just—so fucking exhausted. Of everything.
Death would have been a release.
Apollo's lips quirked into a wry smile. "No," he said. "I think you have proven that is futile." He snapped his fingers. "You are free to go whenever you want."
Percy stared at him, and then shielded his eyes as the god left in a burst of light, feeling—for some reason—incredibly bereft.
"Why do you keep doing this?" Apollo demanded.
Percy grinned at him dizzily. "Because I have nothing left!"
Apollo cradled his face in his palms. "You have me," he told him. "You will always have me."
"Not sure that's a good thing," he mused.
These days he lived for this. For killing monsters, saving young half-bloods in the process.
And seeing Apollo.
His ex-boyfriend.
"Why do you keep saving me?" he pivoted.
When Apollo opened his mouth, looking indignant, he cut in: "I meant how. Doesn't Zeus object?"
"Your father and I managed to outvote him," Apollo replied. "Hades, Hermes, Hestia, the minor god representatives, even Dionysus and Athena. They all voted in our favour."
He couldn't help a laugh that disappeared into a hiss of pain as Apollo healed the broken bone. "She still wants me to stay away from her daughter," he mused. "If she's even in the Underworld."
He couldn't trust his ex's word on that.
Apollo sighed. "I've done all that I can," he announced. "Where are you staying? I'll take you there."
"Nowhere," he confessed.
"You're homeless?!"
"Haven't you been watching me?" he questioned curiously.
"Only sometimes," Apollo admitted.
Percy somehow found it endearing, that he was being watched. Disappointed, that it wasn't all the time.
Was happy, that he'd never once found an Apollo kid at Camp or anywhere.
"Why?"
"Because I love you."
"No, I mean—why only sometimes?"
Apollo stared at him for a long time. "It's too painful," he said finally.
This rung a chord in Percy's heart.
He caught his ex's hand. "Take me to Olympus. Let me heal there."
The look he got in response glowed brighter than the sun and spoke more than a thousand words.
"Hey, Kelp Head." Thalia sounded pained.
"Pinecone Face," he mused, struggling to get out of bed.
That was part of the bargain. He got to keep doing what he was. He wouldn't take immortality.
And Apollo would get to have him, for the rest of his life. "Good to see you. How are you here?"
"My father is king of this place," she reminded. "You could have come to me," she said without preamble, holding his hand and stopping me. "I would have helped you."
"And gone against Artemis' wishes? I would never have asked that of you."
She took a deep breath. "I've left the Hunters."
"Huh?"
"I can't stay with Artemis after what she helped do to you," Thalia explained. Her dark blue eyes were focused on intently on him. "And I can't believe you went back to him after everything."
Percy sighed. "He's the only thing I have left," he tried to defend, but he wasn't sure how else to put it. How he loved Apollo, despite everything. How he couldn't seem to stay away from him.
"You have me," she pleaded. "Come with me. We can run away."
How tempting that offer was! And yet. . .
"I can't," he apologized.
"Percy. . ."
"We're both compromising," he told her. "I'm not going to take immortality. He can't keep me to himself forever."
"That's not compromise, that's—that's basic stuff!"
"Not for a god," he reminded. "But I'd like to see you again."
She smiled sadly, brushed a hand over his hair. "Maybe in the Underworld."
He'd expected that, though it still hurt. He managed a nod, though. "I'll see you there," he promised.
Apollo was in front of him as soon as his friend left, beaming so brightly it hurt his eyes. "You refused her," he breathed. "You love me."
A horrible feeling crept over him. "Was that—did you send her? As a test?"
Apollo just smiled, not answering.
"You don't need to test me! I've told you so many times that I'm going to be with you until I die."
"You can't blame me for needing reassurance," he protested.
He wanted to retort with a yes, that he absolutely could. But he held his tongue; just looked away.
Apollo pulled him up from the bed, steadying him when he teetered. "I'm sorry," he coaxed.
Percy thought about how rare apologies were from gods, and smiled. "Just don't do it again."
They both knew he would take any opportunity, but he just agreed.
Percy wasn't the lie detector, after all.
Percy skipped a stone over the water.
A clap came from somewhere behind him. He turned. It was a golden-haired man whose eyes were fixed on him.
Percy tilted his head quizzically, looking up at the man. "Hi!" he chirped. "My name is Percy!"
The man made a pained sound. "Yes. I know that." He laughed. "Of course your name is the same."
"Huh?"
"Do you want to come with me?"
He pursed his lips. "Mommy says I shouldn't go anywhere with strangers."
"But I'm not a stranger. We've met before."
Weirdly, this made total sense to Percy. "Okay!"
The man held out a hand.
Percy reached out and took it.
And the touch burned.