Chapter Text
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Artemis sat and watched as her radiant brother Phoebus rushed around her room as if Python had bitten his divine posterior. And this, combined with the fact that her head, despite Apollo's elixir, still hadn't stopped aching and was simply splitting, was abhorrent. He darted across the firmament like the sun itself, and even closing her eyes didn't help, for Apollo, in all his fury, blazed like a supernova and had no intention of stopping.
Even though she had lived with her brother her entire life, from the very moment they emerged from the womb of their mother Leto, who died in childbirth, giving her life for the lives of her children... But even despite their mother's sacrifice, they were still near death until the Titans Helios and Selene gave them their spheres of influence over the earthly luminaries and bestowed upon them their chariots before perishing. And so they became the youthful goddess of the moon and the god of light, and though over time they gained even more spheres of influence—Artemis received dominion over the hunt, wild beasts, patronage of young girls, as well as mountains and forests, and, as if in jest, patronage over assistance in childbirth—the ever-virgin and ever-youthful goddess found her solace in the nymphs and mortals she took under her wing as her daughters. Her dear Hunters, beautiful, independent, and exquisite Huntresses, whom she raised and loved. Oh, and she had even begged their father to grant her the right to make her Hunters as immortal as she was.
Her sunlit brother, on the other hand, received control over the sphere of arts, patronage of healers, soothsayers, and became the leader of the Muses. His spheres of influence also encompassed harmony, poetry, as well as archery, healing, the increase of flocks, the protection of emigrants, the embodiment of male beauty as such, and control over the sphere of music, power over which he received with the help of the newborn Hermes, who gave him the lyre as an apology for the fact that he had stolen Apollo's cows. Speaking of Hermes... It seemed only this scamp, who had once again enraged her twin, possessed this incredible ability to drive the sun god to white-hot fury, each time leaving him so incensed that he could barely explain what in Chaos had just transpired, causing Phoebus to curse and pace circles in the room like one of Hephaestus's little birds. Although during these times, Apollo looked slightly dimmer than usual, and he had shed the raven feathers from his head and body, becoming more... mortal, perhaps? To be honest, she had no right to complain about that, for she too had lost her animalistic features, though she could still transform into a doe. Which was pleasing. She could even allow herself a small smile. However, her brother's flickering presence in the background was starting to grate on her nerves.
"Stop flickering about," Artemis snapped at her twin, who was pacing his hundredth circle around the loggia of their shared quarters. "You're starting to annoy me. What in Tartarus happened?"
"My dear sister? We have been thrust several millennia forward in time," he waved dismissively at his sighing, displeased sister, "or, as you suggested, we have simply forgotten several millennia—which, by the way, I highly doubt. Even though I cannot contact Mnemosyne, I am more than certain this is not her doing. Oh, and I am more than certain we did not collectively decide to drink from the Lethe—that would simply be foolishness!" Apollo finally stopped in one spot, finishing his tirade. "My dear sister, I have ample reason for nerves, not least because I am a medic here, and now I cannot find that little viper!"
Apollo slammed his fist against a column, causing marble dust to shower his hair. Oh, how furious he was. His face was twisted in an incredibly bitter grimace.
"So, it was Hermes after all," the moon goddess sighed, approached her brother, placed a hand on his head, covering his laurels with her palm, and turned his face towards her in an attempt to re-establish eye contact.
"Of course, it is that very ὄφις (Ophis, meaning 'vile creature, snake, cunning low person') who decided that now is the perfect moment to play Χαλκὴ μυῖα (Chalke myia, a game where someone hiding is sought by the melodic sound of a bronze bowl)." Apollo placed his hand over his sister's, pressed his cheek against it, and whimpered softly. "Sister, do you have any idea how tired I am?"
"That's it, I've had enough. Go to sleep," Artemis pulled him towards the nearest couch, intending to stop his outrageous behavior, almost voluntarily planting her sunlit brother's head into the feather bolster of the sofa.
"Aw, Artemis~" Apollo sang out, evidently preparing to launch into another mournful tragedy. One of those serenades about how sad and unbearable it is for him, the wonderful and marvelous Phoebus Apollo. In her brother's rendition, they were simply atrocious, and when Apollo began whining and complaining to his "beloved sister" about his unrequited or "requited-but-still-something's-wrong" love, Artemis sometimes literally felt like climbing the walls. Once, Aphrodite, observing one such scene, voiced her assumption that precisely this kind of behavior from the god of music was the main reason Artemis became an eternal virgin. Undoubtedly, the goddess adored her brother and was ready to do anything required to ensure his well-being. However, the insignificant fact that every time Apollo started talking about his amorous adventures, Artemis desperately wanted to find a way to shoot herself with her own bow, remained unchanged.
"My beautiful brother..." she offered a semblance of a smile, leaning right over Apollo. "I am not Sister Athena, but I daresay I advise you a tactic: surrender yourself to the domain of our Uncle Hypnos before I send you there forcibly."
Apollo began to protest.
"And I more than guarantee you won't like it," she grabbed the silk coverlet from the foot of the couch and pulled it over her brother, right up to the top of his head. To which Apollo, slightly provoked, laughingly pulled his sister down next to him, laying her beside him and covering them both with the blanket.
"Only with you, my dearest callous sister," he said cheerfully.
"Right back at you," the goddess of the hunt replied with a half-smile. She had once again managed to disrupt her brother's focus and prevent minor mishaps that could have arisen from it in the future. That was good enough. One way or another, Ester, the "minor mishaps" had been successfully averted, and they both truly needed to regain their strength, even despite the fact that they clearly had more strength now, and the chronic pains and other unpleasant side effects had disappeared entirely. It was wonderful. She hadn't slept next to her brother like this since childhood.
Yes... she was definitely tired...
And this strange feeling, as if she sensed her half-mortal sister among the Hunters, was definitely another foul delusion.
The last son of her father and the only demigod survivor, preserved by the efforts of all the elder Olympians, ceased to be a demigod within the first day of his existence. Oh, she definitely couldn't have a sister.
And even if she did...
What could that girl possibly be doing under her command?
That child would certainly never have left the sight of their sometimes overly protective father.
What nonsense.
They definitely needed to sleep it off.
---
Holy shit. That was the first thing Travis Stoll thought when he finally opened the door to his new apartment.
"Connor would appreciate this..." he thought as he surveyed his new digs. They were indeed convenient: two identical bedrooms with small walk-in closets, a bathroom, a kitchen-living room with panoramic windows, and a small hallway. The only furniture in the apartment was the kitchen cabinets, a fully furnished bathroom, shelves in the closets screwed to the walls, an electrical panel in the hallway, and in the living room, right under where a TV would be mounted, sitting directly on the wooden parquet floor, was a router that seemed to even be working.
He definitely needed to invite Connor here. After all, this was THEIR apartment now, according to Mr. Hermes. He should somehow contact Connor and the other head counselors. Something shady was definitely going on with Olympus, and it would be good to let them know. So Travis went to the kitchen cabinets and started checking all the drawers in search of... Ah, there was a cup. He filled the cup with tap water and hurried to the staircase leading to the roof access. Faster, before the sun disappeared completely. He needed to make a rainbow before the sun fully set. With a practiced motion, the former head counselor flicked the cup, creating an arc of water, tossed a golden drachma into the resulting rainbow, and shouted, "O, Goddess Iris, accept my offering! And show me Connor Stoll... please."
In the light mist that soon took the form of a mirror framed by rainbow haze, he saw the top of his younger brother's head. The main hall of the Big House was completely packed with demigods, which was a bit unnerving, as it reminded him of all those war councils during the war with Kronos and that misunderstanding with the Romans. His Connor looked excessively tense, and even Clovis, the perpetually drowsy head counselor of the Hypnos cabin, was present at the meeting in full consciousness, showing practically no signs of drifting off to the land of dreams. And then he heard the powerful and serious voice of Thalia Grace, who was saying something about the Hunters and their lodging... and that they couldn't contact the Amazons. Oh, wonderful. The Hunters were there too. Uh, well, that certainly didn't inspire any sense of calm or confidence in the future.
"Travis? What happened?" Oh, great, someone had finally noticed him. And luckily for him, it wasn't Clarisse. They had argued before he left, so he wasn't too keen on testing her nervous system right now. He was incredibly glad to see Miranda Gardiner, who was now pointing at him, drawing the lion's share of everyone's attention. Even Drew Tanaka looked up from polishing her nails. She seemed unusually smug after Piper McLean had left her in charge and departed Camp Half-Blood with Mr. Superman to spend the rest of the summer in New Rome with Annabeth and Percy, accompanied by Percy's mom and her husband as "a pair of responsible adults." His musings were interrupted by Connor's cry, who spun sharply towards the Iris message.
"Travis!! What's wrong, are you okay?" Connor was unusually worried. Where had his cheeky, relaxed little brother gone? Unknown.
"I have two... no, wait, three interesting facts for you. Looks like I crashed a super-duper important meeting. Hello, Mr. Chiron," the ex-counselor nodded to the centaur sitting in his wheelchair. "One awesome and two weirdly strange pieces of news."
"You're starting to stress me out, snake-boy," came Clarisse's voice from somewhere outside the range of the Iris message, sparing Travis the need to look at the speaker.
"Clarisse, calm down a bit, he didn't say the news was outright BAD. I don't think extra information will hurt us," chimed in Will Solace, sitting to Chiron's left, right next to Nico di Angelo.
"Only because you say so, sunshine," Clarisse sighed, and the sound of a dagger clinked—she was likely polishing it throughout the meeting. "Start talking, viper."
"Which news do you want first?" Travis raised an eyebrow, surveying everyone present.
"Let's have something positive. Since we're having such a dreary discussion here, I think we need to hear something positive," Thalia Grace, who had been pacing during her report, plopped down between Nico and Lou Ellen, the head counselor of the Hecate cabin.
"Okay. The good news is that I did get into Brooklyn College." Travis was interrupted by cheers, congratulations, and sounds of admiration competing with applause. "Quiet, quiet, guys. Thanks for the support. I'm pretty proud of myself too."
"Well done, I'm incredibly proud of you!" Connor beamed at his brother, genuinely happy for him. "Have you sorted out housing yet?"
"That's the second piece of news. We now have a three-room apartment in Brooklyn. It's only got kitchen and bathroom furniture right now, but the place is nice," Travis grinned, stroking his chin smugly and glancing at a stunned Connor, whose jaw was racing to meet the floor.
"Whoa, no shit! Did you win the lottery or something?" interrupted Jake Mason, who had become head of the Hephaestus cabin again after Leo's death. Miranda, who barely managed to cover little Harley's ears, shushed his profanity. Harley had probably blown something up again and was now forced to sit through a boring adult council meeting under his counselor's watch.
"Interesting point. Thanks," Travis rubbed the bridge of his nose, regretting he'd used all the water for the Iris message, as his throat was indeed dry from nerves. "Let's just say the apartment is a gift from Connor's and my biological father."
"Hermes?!" chorused everyone in the room.
"Exactly. So, we met near the college... and, let's say, I mistook him for a monster and slightly stabbed him."
"You did WHAT?" came the chorus of voices again.
"Yeah..." he looked at his pale brother, "but as he told me, he wasn't too offended. Anyway, based on what he told me, the gods, apparently, have... hmm... I don't know how to put it, swapped consciousnesses? Lost their memories? I don't know, Mr. Hermes explained it very vaguely. However, for some unknown reason, he is absolutely certain that he either has no children or they're all dead, and it's connected to some curse... Um, from the time god?.."
Waves of fear, revulsion, fury, sadness, pain, and confusion physically swept through the living room on the other side of the Iris message. Kronos had brought them too much pain, too many deaths and tragedies. And Travis would have been more than happy never to mention or even allude to the time god. However, in this situation, that detail was definitely important.
"Ugh, Kronos again?" groaned the daughter of Zeus in fatigue and anger. "And now they've isolated themselves."
"You mean the gods?" asked the elder Stoll, and then it hit him. "They've isolated themselves again, haven't they?"
"For better or worse," answered the son of Hades, snuggling closer to Solace.
"I see..." Travis sighed. "Complicated situation. I'll have to stay in New York until the end of the week. I need to finish my paperwork stuff, and probably figure out the furniture situation after all. Otherwise, Connor and I will be sleeping and eating on the floor."
"Got it..." Connor nodded at him.
"Good. In that case, I'll say goodbye for now and won't disturb you further... Connor? Please don't take on too much," Travis smiled and swiped through the Iris message as the counselors said their goodbyes and wished him luck, laughing and joking about college life and the best position for eating on the floor.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Travis finally gathered his thoughts and, after reviewing the apartment documents—which was quite problematic given his dyslexia—managed to ascertain that the apartment was indeed his and fully under his control and ownership. So now he needed to acquire at least some household items to make the place livable.
Travis had been stuck in IKEA for an hour and a half. The last time he'd been in this store chain was when he was maybe five? Yes, exactly. It was for Travis's birthday. Their mother had driven them to the store and, handing Travis sixty bucks and his four-year-old brother, had left them there for the entire day. He and Connor had played shop all day, stuffed themselves with meatballs and ice cream, and he'd bought his brother a gray plush bunny. Which their mother had thrown away two years later for "bad" behavior. Travis's heart still broke remembering Connor's tear-stained face when Travis couldn't find the bunny in the trash can or the dumpster.
And now he was here again. He didn't need much. A light gray corner sofa, a bright yellow armchair and a white coffee table, two simple white sideboards, a kitchen island with drawers and a beautiful wooden countertop that could be used as a table, and bar stools—all white or predominantly gray. Kind of unfussy, you know, homey-homey, almost rustic, comfortable, bright. It would go great with that ridiculous red fridge. Two light wood beds and two matching green nightstands with wooden tops, good orthopedic mattresses, comfortable pillows, four sets of bed linen—two cream and two white, a large solid wood wardrobe, a bathroom cabinet, a coat rack for the hallway—also a wooden tripod, two work desks and swivel gray chairs. Dishes, toilet paper, rags, towels, mops, and other household sundries.
Despite the stress and monotony, it was somehow strange... Having something of his very own, heartwarming. And now he had his own apartment and his furniture (he hadn't dared use the card Hermes gave him). The furniture delivery guys dropped him off at his building and helped carry everything up. He even managed to assemble it all correctly(!) and even got the mattresses on and the bed linen put on. And now, sitting in the kitchen, he stared at the empty fridge. The empty fridge stared back at him. Eventually, their pathetic excuse for a dialogue was interrupted by the elder Stoll's stomach rumbling thunderously. So Travis now had to pull himself together and go downstairs to walk the third of a mile to the actual store. However, halfway there, his progress was halted by the presence of a "terrible force" that grabbed his ear, nearly ripping it off.
"AH-AH-ee-ee-AH-AH-AH!" Travis howled and grabbed the "terrible force" by the arm, trying to minimize the force with which he was being lifted up by his ear, cursing.
"You filthy viper, what in Chaos possessed you with such a cunning thought that you decided playing cat and mouse was permissible right now?!" Travis was literally hanging from Apollo's hand! Yes, this was definitely the sun god, enraged beyond belief. "Answer me now, and don't you dare try to pretend to be mortal again, you little brat!!!"
Apollo squeezed the ear of Hermes's son too hard, so that the ear, already red, began to bleed. At this, Apollo's nostrils flared, and he released the ear, causing the terrified Travis to fall to the ground, scraping his elbow, skinning both palms, and judging by the pain in his tailbone, he'd injured that too. And so, glaring at the slightly bewildered face of the god of music, Travis scooted backwards until he hit a tree. While Apollo leaned right over him and began cooing over him like a mother hen, something musical. He covered the injured ear with his hand, and the ear glowed with a bright golden light, went cold, and stopped hurting.
"What a wonderful child! You are the child of my brother Hermes, aren't you? Oh, I am so guilty, such a fool. How could I mistake my wayward brother for such a marvelous child? How could I allow this to happen?"
And Travis blacked out again. Once more. This was some kind of evil fate, wasn't it?
---
He woke up again, ahem... ahem... in his apartment. Gods, his throat was so scratchy. He awoke to the sounds of clear and distinct arguing. The wounds on his hands were gone now. It was actually pleasant, as if Will had worked his magic. Damn it... Right, Apollo... And there was the god of music himself. Travis turned his head toward the noise and discovered quite an interesting scene. In the kitchen, behind the kitchen island, stood Apollo and his father Hermes... except Apollo didn't look angry like he had when he grabbed Travis's ear, but rather frightened and ashamed, while Hermes stood with his caduceus pressed against Apollo's chest, his face twisted in furious rage. And Travis decided to listen in on their conversation.
"And in what manner, Tartarus take you, did you dare to lay a hand on my son?" Hermes hissed in absolute fury. "You injured him and dared to render him unconscious. My child fainted because of your fault, and yours alone."
"I mistook this darling child for you, in the name of our shared father. What in Chaos made you think playing Χαλκὴ μυῖα with me in this situation was a good idea?"
"Don't change the subject. What made you think you could touch my chick in the first place?!" Both snakes of the caduceus coiled around the god of medicine's neck. "You attacked him, and if I didn't respect you as a brother and fear our father's wrath, I would strike you down on the spot. And the fact that you healed him doesn't work in your favor. It was in your interest not to cause the injury at all."
"I understand I am at fault, but let's not make a monster out of me. None of this would have happened if you hadn't left Olympus!" Apollo's tirade was cut off by a snake biting his neck, making him whimper in pain and try to pull the snakes away from his throat.
And just then, of course, Travis coughed, drawing attention to himself. The snakes instantly returned to their place, obediently coiling around the caduceus as Hermes rushed into his room. He came close, knelt by the bed, and took his son's face in his hands.
"May the Fates take him. My little chick, did Apollo wake you? How are you feeling?" He examined Travis's head and the rest of his body, paying particularly close attention to the ear, and gently smoothed his curls, murmuring: "Shh-shh... Everything is alright now. Daddy's here, and now everything will be very, very good. Daddy won't give you up to anyone."
Hermes pressed his son to his chest, kissing the top of his head and wrapping him in the blanket up to his neck.
"Can I get some water?" Travis coughed out. His throat was apparently very dry.
Hermes nodded vigorously and cast a displeased glare toward Apollo, who had already brought them a goblet. Hermes sniffed it, stirred it slightly without using his hands—just by moving the goblet itself—and brought it to Travis's lips. Travis, in turn, examined the contents of the cup. Water, just water. Odd, though, that it distinctly smelled like non-alcoholic mulled wine, but Travis decided not to dwell on it and drained the longed-for water in one gulp while Hermes gently stroked his back.
And then, staring at the goblet in his hands, it hit Travis...
"That was nectar, wasn't it?" Travis asked, examining the empty cup.
"Not at all, chick. It was ambrosia, albeit a small amount and in a very diluted state. I simply cannot allow you to burn up from an ambrosia overdose," he shook his head. "We cannot allow that under any circumstances."
"I ask your forgiveness, young demigod," Apollo added, taking the goblet from Travis's hands. "I truly did not mean to harm you."
"Umm... Okay?" the ex-counselor of Cabin Eleven nodded hesitantly. Although, judging by how Hermes's face fell and Apollo's relaxed, that wasn't quite the response his father had expected.
"My son, you don't have to forgive him. My elder brother has gravely wronged you, and I wouldn't mind if you were angry and shouted at him. You have every right to strike him," Hermes murmured, caressing Travis's face.
"It's not that I really want to... Can I ask how I ended up in the apartment? I think I passed out on the street?.."
"Oh, I carried you here," Apollo raised his hand. "Your father nearly killed me, so I had to use you as a human shield until he cooled down. You see, besides what I did, Hermes was also extremely vexed that you used Iris's services instead of his. It seems it upset him."
"Don't talk nonsense, Apollo," Hermes folded his arms across his chest. "While I was slightly surprised that my son didn't turn to me but used that rainbow chicken's services instead... It is absolutely not his fault. Apparently, I truly was a worthless father if my children cannot demand my help as a matter of course. This is in no way his fault."
"As you say, brother," Apollo sighed.
"Naturally... My chick, I think you should return to Hypnos's realm..." Travis's eyes began to grow heavy, and thereafter he only heard fragments of his father's phrases: "Ambrosia... ...immortality... ...causes drowsiness... ...you need... ...trust me... ...I love you... ...son..."
And Travis fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.