When Percy left the water, a woman was on the beach, building a sand castle with a little girl.
"Come, little one," the woman said, and it took Percy a moment to realize she was wearing purple fabric wrapped around her like a robe. He was pretty sure he'd heard Piper call it a chiton? Either way, based on the clothing and the fact she spoke ancient Greek-
"Mama!" the little girl gasped, stumbling back. She screamed, covering her eyes as Medusa emerged from the water. The woman stiffened, yanking her daughter back and looking down.
"You," she whispered, keeping her eyes closed. "You… you're… you're here…"
"I mean you no harm," Medusa began calmly, but the woman kept shaking her head, whispering prayers. Medusa looked at her for a moment and then moved away.
"She's gone," Percy said, and the woman opened one eye, fingers still clutching her daughter tightly. "What's your name?"
"Galene," she said and looked around, still searching for Medusa. "This is Charikleia." The girl didn't respond, face still hidden in her mother's skirts. "How did you vanquish the monster?" she asked, a note of anxiety in her tone.
"She can't petrify people anymore," Percy explained, feeling a bit like he had been thrown into the thick of yet another complicated situation. "Um, she… well, she's turning over a new leaf. I know she regrets hurting so many people." Galene blinked at him, perplexed. "If you'd like to talk to her-"
"I would not."
"That's okay, too," Percy reassured her. Galene studied him, head tilted a bit at his t-shirt and jeans. "You don't seem like you're from this time." She shook her head. "Well, I'm Percy-" Galene's eyes widened. "Not, like, Zeus' Perseus. A different one."
"Poseidon's child," she said. Oh. "They've spoken of you. You saved Olympus. Your stepfather speaks highly of you." Uh-huh. Percy forced himself to smile, despite the annoyance bubbling under his skin. Charikleia peeked out, tugging at her mom's hand to point in the direction of the sand dunes. Annabeth and Thalia both popped out, jogging over.
"They're my friends," he told Galene quickly. "I promise you're safe." Galene's grip on her daughter relaxed slightly. "If you haven't heard any stories about them, you probably will. Annabeth is the reason I'm still alive and Thalia… well, she's Artemis' lieutenant, so I guess she's important," Percy dismissed.
"Thalia Grace?" Galene cut in, and Thalia paused in scowling at Percy to give Galene a wary look. "Zeus' daughter," she said, picking up Charikleia. Galene almost looked relieved.
Thalia waved. "Hi, sorry I'm dressed crazy. I've already freaked out a couple of unpetrified people from the medieval period. I promise I don't know Satan," she said and then reconsidered. "Well… I do know Percy."
"Funny."
"What is Satan?" Galene asked blankly. Yep. Definitely from Ancient Greece, then. She shook her head quickly. "No, I… I am told mortals do not normally stay in this camp, but demigods do?" she asked.
"It's a training camp for demigods," Annabeth agreed. "Mortals don't typically stay here, but you're a welcome guest until we figure out how to best help you."
Galene clung to her daughter. "I… I do not know how," she muttered. "I am told outside of this camp, my language is no longer spoken. Only a new version. I do not understand how people dress or earn money or favors. The gods are not even worshiped properly in this time, but… they still exist?" She let out a sigh and pressed her head against Charikleia's. "And now I must leave my daughter in strangers' care."
Oh, shit. Percy looked at Charikleia. Of course. She was a half-blood. He studied her dark hair and eyes, trying to decide if she looked like a certain god.
"Do you know who-?" Annabeth began, and Galene grimaced.
"Not at first, no. A god came to my father's house to remark on my beauty. I…" Galene shook her head. "I admit that I was… perhaps impulsive. I did not wish to be married, and the idea of my reputation being ruined by some stranger appealed to me. It was only after my Charikleia was born and I was forced to run from the wrath of Hera that I realized that wisdom had perhaps escaped me."
Thalia's eyes widened, a hint of panic hiding underneath her expression. "Oh," she said, voice going a little high. "So… so… Charikleia is…." Thalia nodded. "Right. Cool. Percy, we need to-" She gestured over her shoulder. Yikes. Percy gave Galene one more smile, telling her to enjoy the beach before taking Annabeth's hand and following Thalia back to the dunes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and she waved him away. "....have you run across any of Poseidon's kids?"
"Not yet," Annabeth said. "There was a boy from the 1940s who ended up being a son of Hades, I think? Hugo? Nico and Hazel seem to like him well enough." Strange. Percy might ask Medusa if she remembered petrifying any specific Poseidon kid. Obviously, he didn't want any poor sibling to go through the trauma of this, but… still. It could be neat. "What did Medusa want?" Annabeth added, lifting Percy's arm as if he might show some signs of harm. "Your dad is stressing."
Percy rolled his eyes. "I'm fine," he muttered. "She didn't hurt me. She isn't him," he added under his breath. Annabeth didn't reply to that. "Did you talk to your mom?" he asked, a little curious about how things were going on the Athena side of this.
Annabeth's lips pursed. "I did," she said. Percy waited. "I can tell she regrets it… if that can be any sort of comfort." Maybe. Percy's opinion was that regret can only get people so far. "I asked her about Pallas," Annabeth added thoughtfully. "It was the most emotional I've ever seen her."
"Even after all this time?" Thalia asked, and Annabeth nodded. "They must have been really close."
Annabeth rubbed the side of her arm. "Sometimes I think… gods have fatal flaws like us," she murmured. "Except they aren't fatal to them. Only those around them."
"And your mother's?" Percy asked gently.
Annabeth's eyes snapped to him. She smiled weakly. "Wisdom is not entirely separate from emotion. It isn't hard logic, but my mother seems desperate to cut certain feelings out of the equation. I think she knows it has made her a lesser goddess, but she can't seem to reconcile the two at times." Annabeth shook her head. "I can tell Medusa's words shook her. Maybe it'll be enough to push her forward. I'm not going to pretend to understand what in the past thousand years has made her the way she is now. Bad things probably happened to her, too."
Percy bit his tongue. It was a strange thought - that even outside the myths, they didn't actually know everything about the gods. Athena was not a favorite of his, but then again… neither had been Medusa for a time. It felt as though most people were a tangle of webs. Gods probably weren't an exception.
"It's her journey," Annabeth decided. Thalia nodded, still looking lost in thought as they approached the Big House once more. The gods were gone, save for Demeter, who was watering the plants out front.
Percy thought again to Arion. Squeezing Annabeth's hand, he let go of her and walked over to where Demeter was humming.
"Perseus," she greeted without turning. "Care to help?" She handed Percy a hose to which Percy immediately sprayed some petals off of a flower. He winced, but Demeter merely snapped her fingers, and the flower righted itself. "Is it now my turn to have your apologies?"
Percy paused. "What?" he asked and then grimaced. "I mean, if they're helpful… I don't actually know much beyond the myths about how Arion was born."
"And Despoina," Demeter added. Arion's twin, of course. "I'm not like Medusa. The myths are fairly accurate," she said simply. Okay. Percy focused on watering more plants. "You seem to take much emotional turmoil for the past… I feel as though I owe you an apology for that. Do not think I need your support in what happened between me and your father."
Percy opened his mouth to say a number of things, only to process the middle of that. "Apology?" he asked. "For what? You've never done anything to me," he said, thinking back to the Olympian Council, where she voted not to kill him.
Demeter chuckled and, with a flick of her finger, hardened one of the flowers into a statue. She tilted her head, admiring the decoration for a moment before flicking her hand again. The flower reverted back to its original form.
Wait a fucking minute…
"You?" he whispered. Demeter shrugged. "But… why…?"
"I am an overlooked goddess, yes, but I consider myself something of an opportunist." She smiled, fluffing up the plants. "I considered healing Medusa for many years. To make your father face what he often runs from… to remind Athena she has lost herself over the millennium." Demeter shook her head. "But the circumstances have never been right. I like the idea of my family fearing some unknown power. Now, with the giants and titans behind us and them settling into a new sort of peace, the timing felt right." Demeter dusted dirt off her hands. "But I did not take into consideration the pain for others I would also unearth. I am sorry for that. When I saw Gabe Ugliano in the same room as you… I knew I had perhaps done a disservice."
Well, this was absolutely wild.
"No worries," he said, a little faintly. "Um, I won't tell anyone. You know, that it was you." Demeter nodded. "Did it help…?" he asked a little curiously.
"Oh, yes," she said, nodding. "Absolutely. This has all gone quite well, and I do have you in part to thank for that. I've always hoped Medusa might get her moment, but I couldn't have anticipated how. I do believe you helped greatly in that realm."
Percy nodded slowly. That should please him. It did. But it also didn't get rid of everything swirling inside of him. Demeter touched his cheek, warmth spreading over his skin.
"If you need me to turn him back into stone, I will," she told him quietly. "But for now, I will let you proceed as you see fit."
Percy went to answer, but Demeter vanished before he could. The flowers bloomed in a brilliant array of colors, leaving him to slowly lower the hose he had been watering with.
Alright. He had a mortal to deal with. Dropping the hose, he walked off toward the cabins.
"Hey there, kiddo!"
Kiddo. Percy blanched. Kiddo. Gabe was at the head of the dining pavilion where Chiron and Mr. D typically played pinochle. On either side of him was an irritated-looking Apollo and bored Dionysus, the area set for poker.
A couple of the kids glanced Percy's way, clearly expecting some sort of warm greeting at seeing his oh-so-doting stepfather. Now was perhaps the time. To call him out. To tell everyone what a monster he was. But…
He couldn't do it. The words went dry in his mouth. Gabe smiled, showing a piece of food in his teeth.
"Want to play a round with your old man? Surely, you remember all I taught you!"
A note of threat lingered under that last sentence. Leo stood up, smoke curling around his hands, but Percy quickly shook his head. Not before a loud clap of thunder made everyone jump, shaking the tables so badly that a few campers fell from their seats.
Gabe went white, turning to see where Poseidon stood off to the side, expression dark and dangerous. Percy wanted to feel a stab of smugness at seeing Gabe cower under his father's glare, but all he could see was Demeter sitting with her children a few tables away.
"Yeah," Percy said, trying to use the quick absence of fear to push himself forward. "Deal me in."
Gabe's brows shot up, though his focus was still warily on Poseidon as Percy forced himself up to the table. The smell immediately almost made him choke, but he kept himself from reacting as the chair scraped back. A few campers were curiously moving closer, their eyes pricking over Percy's skin.
"You remember how to play?" Gabe asked, seemingly amused. Percy did, actually. He had spent enough hours of his life watching the game. Wordlessly, he nodded. "What are we betting then? More of these pretty coins?" he asked, flipping a drachma from the center of the table.
Gods, he was going to end up having a fucking panic attack in front of the entire camp. He looked up, and behind Gabe's shoulder was Chrysaor, the mask in place and light glinting off the gold. Percy pursed his lips before turning around to where Thalia was. She had a hand around her spear, eyes silently asking him if she needed to intervene.
He didn't.
As strange as it was… Percy didn't want to actually hurt Gabe. Not physically, at least. Well, he did, but he wasn't sure it was enough. Percy knew he could break Gabe's bones and leave him a sobbing mess on the floor. It just… wasn't the sort of pain he felt like would mean anything to Gabe. It wasn't the power he wanted to hold over him.
"Why don't we make this more interesting," Percy said, surprising himself with how collected his voice was. "Lord Apollo," he said, turning to the god. "You are the god of truth, are you not?"
Apollo gave him a curious look. "I'm the god of many things, Percy Jackson, but among them truth, yes," he said.
Good. Perhaps Percy could spin this into a win after all… or maybe something worse. To be determined.
"Let's bet some truths then," Percy smiled. "Lord Apollo can be sure to keep us honest."
Gabe paused, looking startled by the proposition. Percy could see him thinking through it, eyes moving over Percy's face as he picked at yellow nails, nose wrinkled.
"Creative," he said and glanced at the crowd. "But who am I to shy away from a challenge?"
Percy had almost been hoping he would cower away from it.
For those new to the way of poker… well, Percy wasn't great at it. He had watched and understood the principle of everything, but he had never touched the cards more than a few times. Gabe's poker buddies would allow him a round or two when he was young and Gabe out of the room. It really was a game of luck in some ways. Percy probably should be praying to Tyche, but to be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure what luck looked like here.
Dr. D dealt the cards between him and Gabe. A few people shuffled closer. This was a stupid idea. He looked down at his cards, but his brain felt too fuzzy to read them. Apollo handed him some chips, which apparently were going to be the representations of truth here. He felt his throat tighten and placed one in the center.
He might have said 'call' or 'check' or 'I'm in'. One of the words that honestly meant nothing because Percy didn't look at Gabe to try and see what he had before he made his bet. This was going to be pure luck, as it turned out.
"Alright," Dionysus said, an air of boredom in his voice. "Lay them down."
Mistakes had been made. Percy didn't even need to see Gabe's hand to know that he had lost. Apollo's muttered, 'yikes' was enough to let him know how the cards had fallen. Risking a glance up, Percy saw Gabe's expression brighten.
"So," he said, picking up a toothpick from the edge of the table and slipping it between his teeth. "Who is this new man your mother has run off with?"
Fuck. He had fucked up. Percy had fucked up, and he was going to throw himself off a cliff.
"English teacher," he said stiffly.
Gabe tilted his head, glancing at Apollo, who begrudgingly nodded. "Come on, kid. Give me more than that. I had a good hand."
"... I'm going to stab his eyes out," Annabeth muttered to Thalia. Percy leaned back, trying to feel her presence behind him. "I'm going to-"
"His name is Paul. She didn't run off with him. They dated for a while and got married," Percy gritted out and grabbed his next hand of cards. Breath. Slow breaths. He needed to get a grip. This time, he took a moment to process his cards and then look at where Gabe was sitting.
It had been years since Percy had seen him play poker, but surely he could remember his tells. Gabe looked at his cards and then raised his eyes up to Percy. He smiled and put two tokens in. Percy looked at his cards again. From under the table, someone kicked him. Dionysus scowled before touching his eyebrow.
….wait. Percy looked at Gabe, a swirl of memories coming back. Almost subconsciously, Gabe mirrored Dionysus' movement, touching his eyebrow before looking up at Percy again.
Hm.
"I call," Percy said cautiously, and this time when they laid their cards down, it was to see he had the upper hand.
Gabe scowled. "Very well," he said, rolling his shoulders back. "Shitty hand," he added with a nasty look at Dionysus.
Okay. Breathe. Percy nodded to himself.
"My turn then," he said and ran his hands against his thighs under the table. "You've told everyone you saved me from Medusa, but you weren't even there. Why did you lie?"
Gabe bit his tongue, annoyance touching pursed lips. "Who says I lied?"
"Apollo?" Percy asked tightly.
"I do," Apollo agreed. "Answer the question."
A beat of silence. A few people murmured to one another. Percy watched as Gabe's expression darkened. He kept still, trying to keep himself from getting riled up. He would do this. He could do this.
"You're well-liked here, kid. And I just found out I'm surrounded by some dangerous creatures. It was safer for everyone to think I'm some kind of hero myself." Percy looked over at Apollo.
"Not the full truth, mortal."
Gabe twitched. "It… also annoyed you, which was a bonus," he muttered. Apollo nodded before pointedly looking at the second chip Gabe had placed on the table.
"Why would it matter if you annoyed me?" Percy asked, picking up the second chip. Gabe's face went a few shades more red. Percy raised his brows. "Did you hear me?" Percy asked, raising his voice slightly. "Why would it matter if you annoyed me?"
A long pause followed. "Because I don't like you," Gabe finally spat out. Percy nodded, ignoring the confused mutters from the campers.
"Because you don't like me," Percy repeated and clicked his tongue. He tossed the token down. "Want to play again?"
A dangerous tension rose through the air. "Deal me in," Gabe said sharply. He leaned forward, a greasy string of hair falling in his eyes. "And this time, I'm going to ask where your mother is."
"Did you forget our conversation in the Big House so quickly?" Percy asked, accepting more cards from Dionysus. "Or do I need to remind you?" Gabe made an agitated noise, spitting on the ground beside him. "I'll remind you," Percy said. "If you lay a hand on her… I will make you wish someone had crushed you as a statue." He turned to Apollo.
"Truth," Apollo informed him, and Gabe's nostrils flared.
Now that Gabe's tell was back in the open, Percy found the rest of the game not nearly as intimidating. He could call the bluffs, watching the agitation rise as Gabe struggled more and more.
"Are you afraid of me?" Percy asked suddenly. It hadn't been what he meant to ask after his win. He had been trying to weigh his questions - forcing Gabe to say uncomfortable truths. He had been careful to leave his mother out of it, instead focusing on the softer things. Questions like 'Have you hurt anyone in this camp?' or 'Why did you tell everyone I was a terrorist when I was twelve?'
Nothing damning, but enough to hint to their audience that this was not a nice man.
Gabe sneered. It was only a matter of time before he blew up or quit the game.
"You grew up," was all he said. Apollo hesitated, possibly trying to decide if that was an answer to the question Percy had asked, but Percy waved him away. It was.
Dionysus cleared his throat and passed out more cards. As he did so, he gave Percy a look. Something quick and stern. Percy looked at his hand. A losing hand. He didn't even need to see Gabe's cards to be sure of that. Bewildered, he looked back up at Mr. D, wondering if the god had done this on purpose. He felt a stab of offense up until he glanced at a fuming Gabe again and paused.
This was a choice.
Percy had already won this. He had humiliated Gabe at his own game - in front of the people he had desperately tried to impress. Now, he was angry, and it was fairly obvious that if he won, he would forego the good guy act and ask Percy, plain and simple, if he was afraid of him.
And that would be Percy's chance. His chance to follow Medusa's example and tell his story.
Gabe shifted in his chair, suddenly reminding him of the wolf Medusa had warned him about. He looked down at the cards again.
He would tell his story. One day. But for now? He was leaving the cage.
Percy put his cards down. "I fold," he said and stood up. Gabe's head shot up. "Great game, though," he said. Dionysus chuckled, shuffling some cards.
"You-" Gabe began, expression twitching. He stood up to snarl something else out but was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.
"Hello!"
Percy blinked. Was that…?
"Paul?" he choked out. Sure enough, his stepfather was walking over to the table, a backpack slung over his shoulder. "How-?"
"Lord Zeus was kind enough to grant mortals entrance into camp," Paul explained.
Zeus, who had been watching Percy and Gabe's altercation with thinly veiled interest, did a double-take. "You are not one of Medusa's petrified mortals?" he asked.
Paul shook his head. "I'm Sally Jackson's husband." He pointed at Percy. "And that's my stepson, who saved the world multiple times and is, in case anyone has forgotten, under the age of eighteen instead of thousands of years old. I think sometimes people forget that. I don't. But maybe other people should remember," he added dryly.
Gabe hissed, knocking poker chips to the floor so they gave the clipped sound of rain. Paul raised his eyebrows, taking in Gabe with slight disgust.
"You're the man my wife is fucking?" he asked. Percy turned to punch him, but Paul merely grabbed Percy's arm, pushing him off to the side.
"Lord Zeus," Paul said, ignoring Gabe's rising temper. "I am an avid rule follower and believe that you decreed gods should not intervene in mortal affairs, correct?" he asked.
Percy truly wasn't sure who was more confused at this moment: Zeus or himself.
"That is a law I passed," Zeus agreed, straightening up. "Mortal, I did not allow any of your kind to enter this camp. Only those who Medusa had petrified. Leave, or I will be forced to punish you."
Paul bowed his head, slipping off his backpack as he did so. "I understand, my lord," he said. Zeus nodded. "I will be leaving momentarily." Percy considered stepping in, really not sure why the hell Paul had even appeared, but before he could, Paul pulled out a gun.
Yes, a gun. A motherfucking gun. As if this entire situation was not wild enough.
"What-?" someone blanched, but Paul just shot Gabe in the face.
"Oh, fuck," Thalia gasped as everyone jumped back.
Gabe collapsed to the ground, blood spraying everywhere. Paul peered over at his fallen body and then pulled the trigger a few more times as if just to be sure he was dead. Percy blinked, stunned into silence.
"Alright," Paul said. "I'll be on my way then, Lord Zeus. Thank you."
"I-" Zeus began and then stood up. "Still yourself, mortal. This man was under my protection and judgment!" he began, aghast.
Paul put the gun back into his bag. "But I'm a mortal," he frowned and pointed to Gabe's body as Dionysus nudged him with his foot. "And he was mortal. So that was a mortal affair in which gods should not intervene, right?"
Everyone turned to Zeus.
"Father," Thalia offered and stepped up. "If I may, I found this altercation very entertaining. I'm sure you did as well, and surely this mortal would have been killed under your judgment anyway, right?" She looked at him expectantly.
Zeus glanced over at Gabe. "Very well," he said slowly, sounding a tad confused by this turn of events. For once, Percy understood him completely. "But you are to leave this instant, husband of Sally Jackson."
Paul nodded. "Yes, sir," he said and swung his backpack over his shoulder. "Um, if I may…? The museum that held Sally's last sculpture is wondering if she could make another…?" He looked pointedly at Gabe's bleeding body once more.
"You wish to petrify the corpse?" Poseidon asked.
Paul shrugged. "I make a teacher's salary, and the museum offered a lot of money," he said. His eyes flicked Poseidon up and down innocently. "I think maybe this time we can call it something like… Deadbeat?"
Goddamn. Thalia outright turned around to avoid the gods seeing her hiding a smirk. Percy would have joined her, but he was too aghast by the rapid events that had just taken place. Even Poseidon seemed unsure of how to respond as Athena quietly stepped up. Wordlessly, she tapped Gabe, turning him into a marbled statue.
"Will this do?" she asked quietly. Paul nodded.
"I can fit him in the back of my minivan if you need to get him to Manhattan!" Chrysaor offered. Paul spun around, pointing at him with approval.
"Thank you! I'll be on my way - oh," Paul added, pivoting back around to bow to all of the gods. "By chance, which one of you are the gods of schools and maybe legislation?" he asked.
Apollo and Athena glanced at one another.
"I suppose that would fall under our domain," Athena said cautiously.
Paul nodded. "Great. Okay, so I shouldn't even know how to use a gun, but the amount of school shootings have dictated that I now need training on how to do so, which is just crazy. Do gods have any influence on that by chance?"
"Paul," Percy said, exasperated.
"He's got a point," Annabeth said.
Athena pursed her lips before walking over, raising a hand to keep Zeus from speaking again as she helped Chrysaor lift Gabe up. "You and I shall speak, mortal. Tell me more about these issues."
If Paul was shocked at being taken seriously, he didn't show it. He just turned to Percy and pointed at him. "Are you okay? Do you want to come home with me?" he asked.
"Um… no, I- I'm good. Thanks, Paul," he said.
"Alright, call me if something changes, okay?" he said, waving over his shoulder. "I got us tickets to the next Mets game whenever you're up for it."
Percy almost laughed. Maybe those rumors Gabe had started about his stepfather protecting him from monsters weren't completely unfounded after all.
The next few days were a bit of a blur. Sometimes, Percy's dislike of Zeus blinded him to the fact that (on the rare occasion) he made reasonable decisions. One of which included speaking with each and every victim at camp to find a personal solution on what to do with their newfound life. Whether it be returning to the mortal world with the help of the mist to get them started, Thanatos snatching their souls to reunite them with their loved ones in the Underworld, or something else, everyone had a surprisingly large say in their fate.
Well, almost everyone.
"I'm sorry," Thalia said, genuinely looking full of regret as she handed Medusa some tea. "Artemis agreed to let you join us initially, but once Galene decided she wanted to be a huntress…"
"It is very understandable," Medusa agreed, not looking too put out. They had lightly bounced around the idea of Medusa joining the Hunt, but nobody seemed sure it was the right fit. Honestly, Galene seemed better suited for it. It allowed her better access to her daughter, who would be safer at Camp Half-Blood, and many of the huntresses were from the time period she was. Galene also seemed thrilled at the idea of learning to fight and better protect herself and her daughter in the event Hera decided to try and chase them around again - something Thalia supported wholeheartedly.
"What do you think you'll do now?" Annabeth asked. "Anything we can help with?"
Medusa took a sip of her tea. They were in Rachel's cave since she was away at school and given them permission to stay so that Medusa didn't accidentally run into any of her victims by mistake. "I'm not sure," she said. "I could, perhaps, go to sea with Chrysaor… but I also am now free to try new things. Maybe I should explore."
"I could see about getting you into New Rome if you're interested," Percy told her. "Or maybe you can open a restaurant. Even if it was to lure demigods into your lair, the burgers absolutely slapped."
Annabeth snapped her fingers in agreement.
"Maybe," Medusa mused. "I've never been to California."
"You can visit my family," Annabeth offered. "My dad will want to rant to you about military history, though," she said.
"I also think you can totally find a way to bring your beatboxing snakes on tour," Thalia said, completely serious. "I think you have the makings of the best DJ-"
"She's not going to be a DJ," Percy groaned. "Stop trying to make her a DJ."
"Don't limit her dreams, Jackass Jackson! Marshmello cannot compete with a thousand-year-old woman of myth-"
"I will mull over your many suggestions," Medusa cut in. She gave Thalia a small smile. "I was rather hoping to ask about the daughter of Bellona's recent promotion," she tacked on, sipping her tea. Annabeth and Percy both froze.
"Wait, what?!"
"Like Reyna is now lieutenant?"
"No way!"
"You left the Hunt?!" Percy gasped as Thalia rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, and Thalia flipped him off.
"It's not a big deal," Thalia said. Annabeth beamed at her. "I talked to Artemis, who was very understanding about me wanting to take a break." Percy raised his brows at her. "I could go back," she said, rubbing her arm. "But… Artemis told me if I didn't feel the need to have her protection anymore, and had no passion to stay, then I was welcome to go. And if I change my mind…" She shrugged. "Besides, I can hang out a bit with Charikleia," she added quietly.
Percy put his elbows on the table, stealing a biscuit from the center of the blanket they were all sitting on in the middle of the cave. "That reminds me, actually. Galene asked me to help her pick a more modern name for her."
"Oh, gods," Thalia said. "Galene let you name that child?"
"I had input," Annabeth said, raising a hand. Thalia wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. "You know, Charikleia actually means grace."
"And," Percy jumped in. "I told her how my mom really puts stock in the power of names. So it might make sense to name her after two of the bravest heroes in our generation," he shrugged. "Grace."
Thalia looked like she had been punched. She didn't say a word, but Percy also knew there wasn't a thing she could say that would properly voice what she was feeling, so he let her be.
"It'll be nice to stick around for a bit," Thalia finally said, not acknowledging the name. "We'll be able to hang out more," she added, lightly kicking Percy. Percy smirked and kicked her back.
The next few months went surprisingly well. The gods remained anxious about the mysterious power that undid Medusa's curse. A few other quests were issued to try and find answers, but all the demigods sent out returned empty-handed. The gods had even offered up the quest to Chrysaor, who politely declined due to… other obligations.
"Another report of the Golden Boar was seen Friday night," a newscaster said as Percy and Thalia sat in a coffee shop in New Rome. "The crew of the USS Seaborn returned after an attack from vicious pirates, which was intercepted by the mystery ship. In only three months, the Golden Boar has appeared, making a miraculous name for itself as an unmarked vessel protecting the seas. The unidentified leader, who wears a golden mask, has been given the nickname Chrysaor after the mythological figure and is praised by captains across the world as a new saint-"
"He has got to be so pleased with himself," Thalia said, shaking her head. "I heard he got Kymopoleia to join in." Percy gave a long-suffering sigh. He had made the mistake of mentioning to Chrysaor that their sister also had a thirst for fame. Chrysaor immediately decided she would be a great ally to join in his new vigilante work. They got along concerningly well.
"They're trying to get me to join in for a month," he admitted. Thalia laughed. "Shut up. I might do it when I'm sure Kymopoleia doesn't hate me," he added under his breath. "How's Grace?"
Thalia brightened as she always did when asked about her sister. Most recently, Thalia had taken her to Camp Jupiter, telling her tales of all Jason's quests and letting her explore how the Roman demigods lived.
"I'm telling you, she and Estelle are going to be best friends when they finally meet," Thalia said, pointing a finger at him. "They both laugh way too hard at bubbles-"
"I think that's just a baby thing, Thals."
"Nobody but them seem to think bubbles are that funny. I stand by that."
Percy snorted, thinking of the photo on his phone. Paul had texted him a few pictures last week of Estelle sitting on Medusa's lap, pointing at the animated version of the Little Mermaid.
Look who came to visit, Paul's text read. Estelle kissed every single snake on her head before she left.
He smiled and flicked the balled-up wrapping of his straw at Thalia. Things didn't quite feel so overwhelming these days. Sometimes, he felt like he could even breathe again.
Though even in the most peaceful moments of his life, there was still some bullshit.
"Dad," he greeted, kicking the door shut to his dorm. The semester was coming to a close, leaving Percy to desperately try and throw things in random boxes before the RAs kicked him out. Poseidon stood among the ruckus, looking torn between amusement and exasperation at how Percy had decided to try and organize his things. "Tell me you don't have a quest."
"I have no quest," Poseidon promised. Good. Percy threw his bag down and waited. He hadn't prayed to his father since everything with Medusa went down. The occasional offering, sure, but that was it. "I… wished to speak to you."
"Isn't that against the law?" Percy asked warily, and Poseidon closed his eyes. "If this is about Medusa-"
"This is about you and I."
"What do you want me to say?" Percy said, moving to sit on his bed. He was tired. And he didn't necessarily want to talk about this. "That I think you're awesome despite the shitty things you've done? That we're somehow cool?" Poseidon's lips pursed. "Look, I…" Percy shook his head. "I do love you, Dad. It would be a lot easier if I didn't. And it's frustrating because it isn't like you were Father of the Year before all of this."
Surprise touched Poseidon's face, but he didn't interrupt. Percy kicked the ground.
"You're my dad. I can't change that. I'm not even sure I would… Despite everything, I kind of do like myself, and you're part of the equation one way or another." Annabeth would call bullshit on that, but Percy found with each passing day, it was a little easier to look in the mirror. "But… I…" Percy sighed. "I'm not going to back you on the decisions you've made. And if you try to hurt someone again, I'll go against you."
Poseidon didn't seem surprised by that. He merely nodded, looking as if he was grateful he had gotten what little Percy had given him after all.
"I'll also support Chrysaor if he tries to take over the ocean from you," he added, just so he knew where they stood.
Poseidon nodded again. "I understand," he said. Lightning stuck outside. "Zeus…" he groaned. "It is one conversation, do not be such a tyrant," he muttered. Another strike of lightning. "Very well," he muttered and stood. "You owe me nothing, Perseus. I cannot say the same. Your… stepfather," he began slowly, and Percy raised his brows. "He has begun praying to me."
"Paul?" Percy asked, bewildered.
Poseidon shrugged. "Yes, that one. He has many opinions, that mortal. He thinks we should have a therapist at Camp Half-Blood. I do not know much on the matter, but I've informed Dionysus to make it happen. If he has more requests, I assume I have your approval to relay them as needed?"
Did his mom know Paul was praying to Poseidon? Percy could not wait to tell on him.
"Yeah," Percy said, giving a thumbs up. "Approval given."
"Good," Poseidon mused. He took a step away only to pause. "I will never redeem myself in your eyes, will I?" he asked suddenly. Percy frowned. Well… no. He thought that had been clear. Maybe it was because Poseidon didn't seem to need an answer. "So now what?"
Oh… Percy… actually hadn't thought of that.
Now what? What was Poseidon supposed to do now? Relegate himself to villainy? Accept his role now that he had been outed for his manipulation and unforgivable acts? Maybe. But that seemed a bit depressing, and it certainly wouldn't help Medusa, Demeter, or anyone else.
"Do better for someone else, I guess," he said. "Just… know this part of your story isn't going to go away."
That seemed important. Poseidon could and should do a thousand more good deeds to try and outweigh his sins, but in the end… it wouldn't go away. If his victims had to learn to live with the consequences, then so should he. Perhaps that was what true justice was. Not revenge or forgiveness, but not forgetting the crime even after the sentence had been doled out.
Poseidon nodded, bowing his head. "That I can do," he said and vanished with the smell of the sea behind him.
More time passed, and a journal appeared in Percy's cabin later that summer. It was beautiful, the leather dyed blue with silver clasps and pages a soft brown. He flipped through it, baffled until he caught a note written in Greek in the upper-left hand corner of the cover.
Found this on a pirate ship and thought you could use it. My mother says it is easier to tell stories to yourself first. Then to others. Maybe try your hand at practicing yours. - C
Percy smiled a little. He sat down at his desk, picking up a pen. He lifted it. Paused. Put it down. Lifted it again. Paused.
Not yet.
So, instead, he trained. He went to the beach with Annabeth. He visited his mother. Held Estelle. Went to the movies with Thalia. Drove to California to see Hazel and Frank. Spent days cleaning rivers with Grover and Ferdinand.
And each time he looked at Chrysaor's gift, he opened the first page and stared.
"Maybe don't start with Gabe," Annabeth suggested softly one night. They were in a tent camped out beneath the stars in Big Sur. Percy wasn't much of a camper, but he'd admit this trip had definitely been worth the hours of arguing over how to set up the tent and smacking bugs off one another. Percy shifted the flashlight in his hand to shine it in her face. Annabeth hit his leg with a grumbled curse. "There are other things we don't talk about. Would those be easier to start with?"
"You mean my entire life?" Percy snorted, and Annabeth sat up, pressing her head against his shoulder. "I guess that's something," he murmured. "With everything else that people say about me… I worry people are going to think I sound like a god, too."
He felt Annabeth's lips twitch against his arm. "Well, it sounds very impressive to hear you survived an enchantment from Circe. Less impressive when they hear what a cute guinea pig you made," she whispered.
"The cutest in the cage, right?" Percy asked seriously.
"Black Beard was cuter," she whispered, and Percy shoved her. Laughing, she snuggled back into her sleeping bag. Percy smiled at her fondly before turning back to his journal.
He tried to imagine an audience of people in front of him. New demigods all wanting to hear his story. He supposed his mother was a writer, after all. Maybe he had some talent, too. In ancient Greek, at least. Fuck the English version.
Not Gabe, though. Not yet. He'd tell that story a different day.
Picking up Riptide (in its pen version, obviously), he opened the journal back up and tried to think of how to start this entire ridiculous story off. Look, he finally started, going with the honest approach. He took a deep breath and scribbled the next words down. I didn't want to be a half-blood.
Notes