Chapter Text
He wouldn’t have said it to anyone inquiring, but Percy didn’t really have much hope that he’d be able to live the rest of his life peacefully. Not after the second Giant War. Or maybe he could’ve, had he not fallen into Tartarus with Annabeth. Perhaps it was his strange, ever growing demigod senses or perhaps it simply was paranoia—as he could imagine Annabeth offering. Still he couldn’t shake off the feeling that after being in two world ending prophecies, what were the chances of just another one? And then another? Then another?
Would he end up dying in one of those many ‘others’? Jason had died. It made him clench his whole body with guilt. Playing what ifs of if he had just joined Lester and his quests.
What about what Tartarus, the guy this time, had whispered in his mind unbeknown to Annabeth? Some days he could hear the words so very clearly while on others he couldn’t even recall being told anything. Perhaps he should’ve at least asked his Wise Girl for some help, some advice. And the thing is, he had planned to do so. But like nearly all forms of happiness, she had been slipping away from his fingers. He’d realized it too late.
They were on a nice holiday in Montauk. Just him and his wise girl in the little cabin from his childhood. A place where only good memories existed. Not anymore though, he thought grimly. Annabeth’s stormy eyes flashing in regret. Percy’s own heart struggled to comprehend what was going on. She’d looked at him with more understanding and companionship than anyone ever could, asking him to let her go. In a sort of sick irony, mostly from indignation, he’d thought to himself, ‘What am I gonna say? No?’
But he hadn’t said it out-loud—merely shaking his head with a genuine smile mirroring her own. He’d called her his best friend—and she was without a doubt. Would continue being so till the end of time. Though, all in all, even with Percy never being the sharpest blade in the shed, he could see that what they were doing, really wasn’t meant to work out.
Aphrodite was truly determined to make his love life interesting, wasn’t she?
Dusting the sand off his pants with a sigh, he got up from his spot by the sea. Annabeth had left hours ago, saying she needed to start planning and packing for New Rome. The sun was setting, a thin sliver of light dipping into the water and painting it gold. Percy took a deep breath. Shaking his head to throw off the clingy melancholy in his chest, he stretched with a groan.
Despite everything and despite having just broken up with his amazing girlfriend and even despite the feeling that he really wasn’t cut out for a quiet, happily ever after, Percy had a good tingling in his bones. Embracing the dread was a warmth. Like a candle light during a power outage or a hug from a friend on the battlefield. Something bad was going to happen, but all would be well.
—
“Damn it! Just cause I had a feeling doesn’t mean you have to go and prove me right!” Percy could only shout into the cold, dark void he was currently floating in. There was an eerie emptiness all around in such a consuming manner, he couldn’t tell where he ended or began. The only thing indicating that he hadn’t somehow lost it—because even death couldn’t be anything like this—was his own heartbeat and blood rushing in his ears. Blood he desperately tried to ignore the odd connection to. The water flowing through his veins.
He couldn’t even feel himself shaking his head for gods’ sake! He really had been craving some blue pancakes this morning which obviously had him trudging off to his mom’s. He’d never made it. A weird bobbing monster decided to be present in an alley he’d taken as a short cut. It was made of nothing but water with the strangest clocks floating inside. The peculiarity of it should’ve probably been off putting but he clearly was no child of Athena nor anything other than do it on the fly kinda guy.
He’d swung riptide merrily—carelessly— and with his rotten luck, caught the only clock that wasn’t ticking in the process. Now suddenly he’d come into consciousness in this endless darkness. He tried to calm down. It really wasn’t working though.
Yea, he’d lost it. Percy was certain of that—hey it wasn’t even that farfetched. Worst case scenario, someone would convince Mr. D that he deserved to keep his sanity. Just your typical, random Tuesday because there definitely was no “light at the end of the tunnel” or else Annabeth would kill him for dying. He promptly ignored the approaching crack of light. Yup. Perfectly fine, driven–mad behavior.
It was confusing really; how he thought he had his eyes closed and yet could see perfectly as a flash of light swallowed him. Black vision turning a blinding white. He grunted in pain as he was suddenly flung at a rough surface. Dimly noting scraping his knees against rocks and then soothing cold water seeping into the wounds. Blinking hard, Percy tried to take notice of his surroundings.
It worked this time.
The sea in front of him was a beautiful sheet of blues that took his breath away. Moonlight casting a soft sheen over the surface, making it look almost otherworldly. He trailed his hand through the water. It was clear like no beach he’d ever been to—only perhaps Calypso’s Island. That made alarms go off in his head. He immediately turned to look around and let out a sigh of relief.
This definitely wasn’t Ogygia. Actually, why was he even relieved?; the sight in front of him was a thousand times more confusing. There were buildings a little farther back from the spotless sand. They weren’t like the cabins he was used to seeing at Montauk. What he could roughly make out were flat roofed groups of houses made of whitewashed stones. They were scattered around a gentle hillside but no other details were visible.
A groan rose from his left. Immediately his defenses came up as he swiveled in the direction of the sound. Realizing with a start, he saw boats around, small ones with a lantern or two hanging about. But they weren’t the source of the noise. Squinting, he saw a figure in the distance rising from the shoreline.
Percy by all means could hear the Annabeth voice of reason in his mind telling him to lie low; avoid the person at all costs. You know, in case it was someone evil or malicious. Annabeth wasn’t here though so he got up to his feet. The finely grained sand made him register he was bare foot. And also naked.
Well not exactly but he might as well have been with the loose piece of fabric thrown over him. It looked a little like the bedsheet he’d worn in Camp Jupiter or the chiton he saw on Greek statues. He didn't have any underwear on.
He fought back the flush of embarrassment. Thankfully, riptide was in his hand as a pen but now he was certain he’d lose it.
Still, too busy with trying to adjust the leather belt on his waist so that the bedsheet covered his other shoulder too, he almost forgot the other person on the beach with him. A choking sound was followed by coughing. He snapped back into focus—cursing his ADHD in the process—and quickly reached this foe or ally. Of course with a prayer to his father to make him look less naked.
The full moon seemed, mockingly, extra bright today. Hopefully they’d think he was cosplaying or something.
Except he didn’t really have to worry much about it because the person quivering on the sand was a boy dressed similarly to him. His was much fancier with embroidered edges and consisted of two, different colored pieces. Plus, seemingly golden (he couldn’t really tell in the dark) accessories in his long, light coloured hair and on his arms. Unlike Percy, he was also wearing some sort of ribboned sandals that wrapped around his calves.
He had a smaller frame, more lithe. His quivering back shook with the force of his rough breathing which made visible he was at least lean. Tentatively approaching, Percy leaned down, concern pinching his eyebrows, “Hey man you alright there?”
The guy snapped his head and for a hiccup, both of them stood there a little bit stunned. Even though he looked nothing like anyone he’d ever seen before; with cold dark brown skin, golden marks under his eyes like sun rays and beautiful features, he’d easily recognise eyes like that anywhere. Apollo’s striking blue gaze was wide as he stared at him, the young, unfamiliar face he adorned frowned in confusion, “Percy? What are—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Percy abruptly shoved him backwards. Apollo was sent rolling in the sand before he swayed up to his feet.
“You.” The moonlight wouldn’t have been necessary to see the anger in Percy’s body.
Apollo messily pushed away the, now Percy noticed really really long, curls from his face with guilt twisting his features. “Percy—”
“He died because of you!” He stalked up to the sun god and shoved him by the shoulders. Apollo stumbled to the ground and didn’t get up this time as he gazed up at him. Ignoring the fact that it was literally god Apollo—no matter how strange and different he looked—and not mortal Apollo and could as well as strike him down for his ‘disrespect’, Percy continued. “Jason died; he’s dead because of you!” There were no tears left to shed as he pointed an accusing finger, “No college, no family, no future because of you. Do you not—”
“I know!” Apollo cut in, “I know… I'm sorry. I’m so so sorry, I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve—” Percy didn’t hear the rest of what he was babbling, too shocked by the two words. I’m sorry. Also, now that he looked closely Apollo was crying. Full on sobbing in a way he hadn’t seen on anyone’s warhardened face in a long time. Actually on second thought, he was hyperventilating.
Percy stared awkwardly, anger suddenly drained. Especially as he realised the sun god—if he currently was, now he had doubts—was still mumbling, “I know I'm so selfish and horrible and disgusting. He was so young. Had so much to live for and yet I killed him. I should’ve died instead of him back then!”
Percy grimaced at that, trying to remind himself. Apollo was a thousands of-years-old god and not the small, grieving boy in front of him. Who was currently having a panic attack. “Ohmygods, I died! Jason, Jason I need to apologise to him ASAP.” He gasped in shock, “Percy, what are you doing here???” His shrieking was starting to mildly annoy Percy.
“Apollo, you’re a god. You can’t die.” He responded like he was soothing a child.
To which Apollo shook his head and sprung to his feet, “Percy, I’m Lester did you forget? I died.”
“Well, unfortunately, I did not.” Or he thought so. “You look alive to me. And not at all like Lester.” Remembering the awkward kid with acne. Apollo still looked like a twink but definitely not Lester.
Apollo was looking at him all confused, rapidly blinking the tears out of his pale lashes. “Percy, I think I would, you know, feel like a god if I was one—what are you wearing.”
Percy closed his eyes with a sigh, “My question exactly.” He was feeling the age old resentment rise again, “I just want a little dash of normal in my life but NO! You and your godly dicks have to go making life for us poor puny demigods even without a fucking war.” The waves crashed more forcefully against the shore, “Ya’ll are such—”
“By Poseidon’s Beard, who goes there!?” Percy and Apollo both jumped at the rough voice coming from the distance. At the very greek voice in the distance.
“Um, that doesn’t sound like Charon.”
“No shit Sherlock!” Percy couldn’t help himself from hissing back. “Why’s he speaking in Greek?!”
“How should I know!?” Was the shrieking response.
“You’re the god!”
“For the umpteenth time, I’m not now! I’m supposed to be dead!”
In their futile bickering, they’d gotten distracted as the man approached them.
Percy dragged a hand through his hair, leaning down a little to be more eye level with the Sun god, “Apollo, you’re clearly not!”
“Well, I’m definitely not god either! I don't feel any of my divine connections—”
“Hello?”
Apollo was immediately smiling at the now-in-front-of-them man, squinting at the light, “Good morning.”
Percy was sure it was midnight.
The heavily bearded man looked them both up and down, his strange, brown and sacklike clothes lifting beyond his knees as he brought the light higher, “Who an’ what are ye doin here so late?”
Percy couldn’t really understand the words behind the accent in his Greek; he was quite out of practice anyways even as the language made itself familiar like muscle memory. He glanced at Apollo and decisively stepped in front of him, blocking him from view. “We don’t know either I’m afraid.” His Greek was a little off, but not too bad in his opinion.
The man scrutinized him in return but thankfully didn’t bother with peaking around him to see Apollo better, “Ya don’ look from aroun’ yere.”
With a divine sort of luck, he suddenly remembered Annabeth once telling him—the typical monologues she’d usually have—that the Greeks were quite hospitable to foreigners, so he nodded, “No, we’re not,” with a quick glance to the sea, he exhaled, “Our ship crashed and my…master and I were washed up here.” Percy pointedly ignored the coughing from behind him.
This seemed to make sense to the man because he quickly grinned and walked closer to place a hand on his shoulder, “Ah! Poseidon must've sent ya to us, I tell ya. Come, come inside. Mi wife’s awake, she’ll know what ta do with ya!”
Percy flashed him a smile, trying not to wrinkle his nose at the intense fish smell emitting from him.
Apollo grabbed his arm as he was about to follow, “Smart move, but what the hell’s going on?”
Percy shook him off with a scowl, “I don’t know, okay? Just play along.” Then he motioned his hand up and down, “Also, chunk all that stuff you’re wearing somewhere.”
Apollo just seemed to realize that he was decorated with gold and winced, “Oh dear, where do I put them though? They could come in handy later.”
He didn’t wait for Percy’s reply though and swiftly buried them in the sand behind a boulder. The man shouted again, “Come on! It’s getting col’ out now!”
And they made it up to the fishy house. Percy internally cackled to himself. He was going crazy.