Chapter Text
Gabe Ugliano did not consider himself a cowardly man.
He worked an honest job, a real godforsaken nine to five, that had him dealing with more than a few seedy bastards. He had a group of buddies that knew he wasn’t afraid to punch their lights out if they caused him any trouble. He had a wife who kept to herself and made good food, and a stepson he could easily keep in line.
No, Gabe was no coward. He was a strong man and wielded that strength as he saw fit.
But the kid—man—sitting next to him in the cab made him question that strength.
The kid claimed he was Percy, his punk stepson, but Gabe knew better than to believe that bullshit. It was some sort of set up, probably a prank the troublemaker concocted while he should’ve been focusing on school. How that boy hadn’t ended up in juvie yet, Gabe had no idea. He had it coming eventually. Kid caused enough trouble.
Not-Percy kept a vice grip on his arm. Gabe knew better than to complain about it while they were in close quarters. The kid packed a mean right hook and would probably lay Gabe out in a matter of seconds. He needed to wait for the cab to stop and then make his move.
Wherever they took him was pretty far out of Manhattan, though. Somewhere out in the Sound, where the stars shone bright. Hopefully there was a gas station nearby, somewhere he could call the police and get them to arrest the crazy asshole who kidnapped him.
The girl was weird, though. She didn’t say much, just kept passing Gabe withering glances every time he so much as twitched. Clearly Not-Percy’s girlfriend, or something like that, by the way she gripped his hand. She was a pretty one, all long limbs and curly blonde hair. Too young for Gabe, probably, and he was a married man.
Let no one say Gabe Ugliano was an unfaithful husband.
The cab sped along the dark road, past gas stations and convenience stores. Gabe ran his tongue over his teeth. Would they really go so far out that there was nowhere to call? Did the kid intend to kill him? That sword looked wicked enough to do some damage. Why the hell he had a sword, Gabe had no idea, but he knew better than to question the crazy person with a weapon.
Finally, the cab pulled to a stop at the bottom of a hill. The blonde girl pressed a wad of cash into the cabbie’s hand as Not-Percy hauled him out of the backseat.
As soon as the cab sped off, Gabe rounded on the kid, swinging for his jaw.
The kid just sidestepped his swing like it was nothing, eyebrow raised. Gabe growled and swung again, and again Not-Percy side stepped.
Huffing, Gabe tried one last time, coming from another direction, but the kid just caught his fist as if it meant nothing at all. “If you’re done, we need to go up there.” He pointed to the top of the hill.
Gabe turned and tried to run.
The girl swept her foot out and sent him crashing to the dirt. His head swam as it cracked against the ground, and he groaned.
With a sigh, Not-Percy hauled him up. Gabe spat grass at him.
Not-Percy dragged him up the hill as Gabe kicked and fought, to no avail. The kid was stronger than he looked. At first glance he was all lanky and thin, but as soon as his arms flexed to half-drag Gabe through the dirt, that assumption was discarded. Not-Percy was ripped.
At the top of the hill, the girl said, “I, Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, allow Gabe Ugliano into Camp Half-Blood.”
Before Gabe could ask what the hell kinda crazy talk she was saying now, the air shimmered, and suddenly he was staring down at… well, something.
A large farmhouse waited in the distance, and beyond that it looked like a summer camp, if summer camps had weird architecture and giant arenas. He’d been to Washington D.C. once, years ago, and the architecture kind of looked like that, except not. Older. What, some kind of political themed summer camp?
Not-Percy dragged him toward the farmhouse, muttering something under his breath. The girl raced ahead.
Just as they approached the porch, Not-Percy positioned Gabe on his feet. Gabe tried again to deck the kid, but he just dodged it, unimpressed. “Chrion’s going to come talk to us. Don’t think about doing anything stupid.”
“Who’s—” Gabe’s mouth dropped open as an honest-to-god horse man walked out of the farmhouse doors. Like, an actual fucking horse man, straight outta the fantasy books, dressed in a tweed jacket and button-down shirt.
“Gabriel, I presume,” the horse man said, peering down his nose at him.
Not-Percy, still gripping Gabe’s shirt, shook him roughly. “I have no idea why he’s here,” the kid said. “I literally saw his statue last week!”
The horse man pursed his lips. “I haven’t heard of any other curses breaking. By all means, those souls are already in the Underworld.”
Curses? Underworld? What the ever-loving fuck was going on here?
The blonde girl reappeared through the door of the farmhouse, holding a water bottle. She tossed it to Not-Percy, who took a drink. “Is Nico around?”
“He’s getting here tomorrow,” horse man said. “He might have an idea. It’s nearly unheard of for a soul to return out of the Underworld. Perhaps he can tell us why.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” blondie said. She pursed her lips, gray eyes boring into Gabe. He felt like she was picking apart his soul.
All of Gabe’s plans of escape flew out the window the moment horse man appeared, but he still tried to look dignified. No way was he going to let these crazy people, magic or not, kidnap and kill him. “Is anyone going to tell me what the fuck is going on here?”
Not-Percy growled at him. Like, actually fucking growled, like an animal, in the back of his throat. Gabe turned wide eyes on the freak.
Horse man sighed. “Let us go inside.” He turned on his hooves (holy fuck) and made his way back through the doors. Not-Percy shrugged and followed the horse man, dragging Gabe with him.
Once inside the sitting room, Not-Percy shoved him roughly into a wooden chair. He didn’t tie him to it, which Gabe thought he was stupid for, until he saw the kid take up post between him and the door. Damn.
Horse man stepped into a—was that a wheelchair? —and suddenly shrunk down until his was the size of a regular ass man, sitting in, yep, a wheelchair. No-longer-horse man repositioned his glasses. “What is the last thing you remember?”
Gabe pursed his lips. Things were a little fuzzy, but he was sure he was home, waiting on something. He said as much aloud. “Sally, my wife, was going to make dinner. I had my boys coming over for poker night. The punk was off at some… camp…” he trailed off, swallowing, feeling a sudden sense of unease. Not-Percy shifted next to him, so Gabe continued. “Sally said she had something for me to see. Brought out some kind of box and—” he cut off, screwing up his eyes as he thought. “And…”
Nothing came back to him. Sally brought out the box, and that was where his memory ended. He blinked. “Did that bi—” he cut himself off as Not-Percy suddenly gripped his shoulder, nails digging in. “Did she poison me?”
Blondie and Not-Percy shared a look that Gabe couldn’t decipher.
Horse man nodded like everything Gabe said made sense. “Yes, you see, you were faced with the head of Medusa and turned to stone.” He leaned forward, bracing elbows on his knees. “You should be dead.”
Gabe blinked. “Medusa? Like, snake lady Medusa?”
Horse man nodded.
Gabe barked a laugh. “Now you’re really crazy. You’re saying that I saw fucking Medusa? Like that’s real? You’re going to have to try harder than that if you want to convince me I’m going insane.”
“I am a centaur,” horse man said, as if that made everything make sense.
“Yeah, but that’s one thing. I could see that happening. Someone fucks a horse, badda bing badda boom, you get you.”
Blondie grimaced.
Horse man pursed his lips but didn’t acknowledge Gabe’s comment, which Gabe took as a win. Strike one for the freaks.
“Gabriel,” horse man began after a few moments of silence. “How much do you know about Greek mythology?”
Gabe frowned. “Like the gods and shit, Zeus and them? I know what they are. Medusa’s part of that, too, yeah?”
Horse man nodded. “Yes. They are all very real and very alive today.”
Gabe laughed. This shit again. “Uhuh, sure.”
Not-Percy sighed. “You’re being dense.”
Gabe turned a withering glare on him, and a spark of satisfaction went through him when the kid flinched. “You expect me to believe you crazy people? That gods and shit exist? I don’t even believe in Jesus.”
Not-Percy flicked his wrist. Next to him, his water bottle exploded.
Gabe flinched back but couldn’t avoid getting sprayed with water. The kid stayed dry.
Horse man cleared his throat. “What Percy here is trying to demonstrate, I believe, is that magic very much does exist.”
Gabe was still staring, wide-eyed, at not Percy. Had he just—had he really just blown up that thing with a wave of his hand? No, no shot. This wasn’t real, he was on some sort of acid trip. A bad one.
“I’m going to sleep,” Gabe declared. “I’ve been drugged and I’m going to sleep it off.”
Horse man frowned. “You have not been drugged.”
“I’ve been drugged,” Gabe repeated, feeling more sure of himself. “I’m going to go sleep it off.”
Horse man and blondie shared a look that seemed to convey an entire conversation. Finally, horse man sighed. “Very well. I will arrange for a room for you.”
He led Gabe to a side room with no windows. It had a bed, at least, and Gabe was content to sleep off whatever crazy trip he was on in it. Sucked that Not-Percy decided to post up guard outside the door, but Gabe didn’t want to deal with the crazy kid until he was sober again.
With that, he flopped into the bed and went right to sleep.
-0-
Percy sat outside the locked bedroom door, one knee propped up so he could rest Riptide on it. He tapped on the wood floor, some kind of rhythm he made up as he went. If he had to guess, he still had a few more hours to go until sunrise.
“You need to sleep, Seaweed Brain,” a familiar voice piped up.
Percy sighed, looking up to meet Annabeth’s eyes. “I don’t want him trying to run off.”
She settled next to him on the floor and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into her touch. “I don’t think he will. And if he does, the cleaning harpies will get him.”
Percy snorted at that mental image. Gabe, running for his life from some admittedly terrifying feathered ladies. It would be a sight to see. But he shook his head. “No, I don’t trust anyone else to keep an eye on him.”
Annabeth pursed her lips but didn’t say anything.
Percy ran a finger along the length of Riptide. It couldn’t hurt Gabe, but he didn’t know that. It clearly intimidated him enough to keep him in line.
Why he was back, Percy couldn’t fathom. He was dead, forever, point blank period. Percy spat on his corpse at least once a year. Dead. But no, the Fates couldn’t just let dead dogs lie (literally), they had to bring him back for some reason. And with the ability to see through the Mist to boot. Fucking hell.
Percy let out a long breath through his nose. Annabeth rubbed his shoulder, fingers finding a knot of tension and working it out. He sighed as she deftly massaged the knot. “If some monster doesn’t kill him, I will.”
Annabeth’s hands froze for a fraction of a second before they started moving again. Percy noted it.
She was silent for a while. He knew better than to interrupt her thinking time. Might as well take advantage of her massage prowess.
Finally, she said, “are you sure?”
He frowned.
She continued to work, moving on to his other shoulder. “You’re angry, I understand that. But I need you to consider how that will affect you.” She pressed into the knot, earning a hiss of pain from him. “He’s not a monster.”
Percy scowled. “He is definitely a monster.”
Annabeth let out a soft chuckle. “You know what I meant, Perce. He’s not a turn-to-dust-and-reform monster.” She pressed her hands flat to his back. “You’d be killing a mortal.”
“A mortal who deserves it,” he pointed out.
“I’m not denying that,” she said. “I just want you to think how that will affect you.”
Percy opened his mouth to argue, considered her words, and closed it again.
How would it affect him? He had killed before, of course, during both wars. Luke had finished himself off, but Percy had handed him the knife. And he’d collapsed that bridge in Manhattan, taking demigods with it.
But that was war, and those were demigods, not mortal humans.
Children, part of his brain reminded him. Some of those demigods were children.
They were, and gods does that guilt eat him alive at night. They were manipulated by Kronos, willing to kill fellow demigods themselves, but they were still children. War makes monsters out of men, and Percy had let it turn him into one.
But Gabe was no child. Gabe wasn’t a war veteran, forced to do terrible things to survive. Gabe hadn’t faced down other teenagers and been forced to make the decision to kill some to save more.
Gabe was just a human piece of shit who abused his wife and stepson. Simple as that.
Percy sighed. “Maybe I’ll get my dad’s help but… I’m sure.” He swallowed and turned to face Annabeth, meeting her gray eyes. Where he expected judgement, he only saw love and understanding, and beneath that, rage. Not towards Percy, but towards Gabe. “I won’t let him hurt anyone ever again.”
Annabeth nodded, once, and wrapped her arm back around him. “I’ll take next watch. Sleep, love.”
He wanted to protest, but Morpheus’s realm called to him, and he shut his eyes, falling into dreamless sleep.