Chapter Text
“Die, Graecus!”
Percy would roll his eyes, but he’s a little busy staying ahead of the Romans behind him. He’s working as a diversion - if they’re going after him, they’re not going after the ship - they’re not going after Annabeth. Piper, Hazel, and Coach can defend the ship while he’s gone - this should only take another minute or so. Percy has already thrown a bunch of them in the harbor, with just the three stragglers behind him. His path leads him closer to the sea, enough that the surf is a comforting roar in his bones, and Percy relaxes. I can work with this.
He turns and brings Riptide up to a guard position, and his three pursuers come to a halt, their Imperial Gold weapons glinting in the sunlight. “Come on, guys,” Percy says, trying words first. See Annabeth? I do think sometimes. Not often, but it does happen. “You don’t want a war, and neither do we. Can we just, put down our swords and talk about this?”
Percy risks a quick glance over his shoulder to gauge how far he is from the sea, how much space he has to back up. He can sense all of that, of course, but knowing how far he is linearly from water tells him absolutely nothing about vertical drops. Luckily, Percy sees nothing of that sort - instead, his eyes catch on a small figure. A boy, not even a teenager, with messy black hair, tanned skin, and an orange t-shirt. “Schist,” he mutters. What’s a kid, even a demigod kid, doing here?
Then sea green eyes meet sea green eyes, and Percy’s eyes widen. “Fuck.” How in Olympus did this happen? Percy turns to the Romans, suddenly desperate to avoid a fight. “Guys, seriously, give me two minutes to talk about this.” He doesn’t know what would happen if his younger self dies here, but he already tempts the Fates often enough as it is.
“No chance,” one of the Romans bites back.
“We trusted you,” another says, and Percy senses a possible ally and tries again.
“You still can.”
That Roman hesitates, but the other two choose that moment to attack and force Percy into action. He calls on the ocean, bending the lingering spray in the air into his opponents’ eyes to blind them, onto their swords to loosen their grip. He can’t let this fight go on for too long - the longer he fights, the greater the chance there is that one of the Romans will get in a lucky hit on the kid behind him.
In less than a minute Percy has disarmed and knocked out two of his opponents and is left with just the leader standing in front of him, a dagger held in one hand and a defiant look on his face. Percy twirls Riptide in one hand and smirks. “Little tip for you,” he offers, moving forward a step, his opponent giving ground almost reflexively. “Next time you want to fight a son of Poseidon, don’t do it two feet from the ocean.” More spray in the guy’s eyes, and Percy slams the hilt of his sword into the Roman’s helmet. He drops to the ground, out cold. Okay. That’s done.
Percy turns to deal with the problem behind him, and does not miss the fearful step back the kid takes. He tries not to be offended by it - he knows from Rachel’s drawings that he looks scary when he fights, and that was before he ended up at a Roman camp and trained with literal wolves.
He holds up both hands in a calming gesture - or, well, as calming as he can get holding a sword. He would drop Riptide, but he doesn’t want to be caught off-guard by more Romans. “Hey, it’s okay,” he tells the kid, doing his best to gentle his tone from the battle growl he’d used earlier. “I-I won’t hurt you.” Percy watches as the fear partially clears from his younger self’s eyes, though some of the wariness still remains.
“Who are you?”
Percy hesitates on his answer to that question, then more questions follow it and he thankfully doesn’t have to find an answer. “Where are we? Who are they? Are you really the son of Poseidon?”
Percy blinks, because wow. “Gods, I forgot what I was like at twelve,” he chuckles. There is so much innocence in those questions, enough for Percy to feel fairly confident in his estimate of age - that plus the past bunch of years working with younger campers has made him better at guessing general ages. Because there’s something in his younger self’s gaze, his words, how he carries himself, that makes Percy think this is before he was claimed. He can’t name what that something is exactly, but it’s there.
Before Percy can even consider answering any of the kid’s questions - or asking any of his own - the wind shifts and the son of Jupiter runs up to them. “Percy! You need to come back to the Argo II - Annabeth says we-”
Percy feels every nerve sharpen at the mention of his girlfriend, then Jason cuts himself off, the blond’s gaze fixed on something behind Percy. Percy’s about to either check to see what the heck Jason is staring at or ask what he was going to say about Annabeth when he realizes Jason’s eyes are wide with surprise.
“Um. Is that-?”
Right. Percy suddenly remembers what - or rather who - is behind him. “Yep.”
Jason’s electric blue eyes lock on him, eyebrows coming up in time with a question. “How?”
“No idea,” Percy replies honestly. But there are bigger problems to worry about right now. “But you’re right, we need to get back to the ship.” He’s been away from it longer than he thought, if Jason had time to make it back and then come find him. Sure it’s a warship, but now that the Romans have tracked them here it doesn’t matter how many toys Leo has packed below deck.
Jason’s voice cuts through Percy’s thoughts to present a new problem. “We need to do it fast. But I don’t think I can carry both of you.”
Percy holds back a curse, because figures. Of course his little diversion attempt went both ways. He wonders at the problem for a long moment, because he can’t leave his younger self in the middle of Fort Sumter - there are Romans running around, kid could get himself killed. Then the crashing of waves filters past the thoughts chasing each other around his head, and Percy could smack himself. “You don’t have to,” he tells Jason with a grin. “You ride the winds - we’ll ride the waves.”
He puts the hand not holding Riptide on his younger self’s shoulder and - nothing happens. Thunder doesn’t boom, the earth doesn’t shake. It’s just Percy with his hand resting on the kid’s shoulder, like this is just another newcomer at camp. Okay. Then that’s what he is. “C’mon kid, you’ll like this.”
Percy summons the sea, and just like he knew it would, his younger self is entranced by the spray. There are expected exclamations of awe as they ride along the coast, then the kid looks up at Jason flying on the winds above them and says exactly what Percy is thinking. “He looks like a blond Superman.”
And Percy laughs, because how could he not? Some things never change. “He does, doesn’t he?”
Then they round a curve in the coastline, and all laughter dies in Percy’s throat.
“Are those giant eagles?”
Ahead of them is the Argo II - and surrounding it are dozens of Roman legionaries. Too many of them. A Greek swear slips out from between Percy’s lips at the sight. “There were not this many when I left.”
“We need to leave, now.” Jason’s voice above him is laced through with the same stress and worry Percy is feeling, and the both of them make short work of the remaining distance to their ship.
The waves deposit Percy and his younger self on deck, Jason slides off the winds and back onto his feet, and Percy watches Leo turn towards them from where he’s been frantically pushing buttons and levers on his control panel. “Finally! What took-”
Percy can tell the exact moment Leo registers there’s a third person on deck, as the son of Hephaestus cuts himself off, eyes darting between Percy and the kid so fast Percy’s sure he’s giving himself whiplash. But before Leo can say anything, a small, indignant voice pipes up from next to Percy. “Do I have something on my face?”
It takes every last bit of Percy’s self control not to burst out laughing, because wow. Out of everything he was vaguely expecting to hear, that was not anywhere on the list. From the small movements of Jason’s shoulders, it appears Percy is not the only one holding back laughter. Leo just looks between Percy and the kid one last time before focusing on Percy. “Dude. What the Hades?”
“I know, I know,” Percy says, waving off the questions he knows his fellow demigod has. He’ll have time to answer them later. For now- “Do we have everyone?”
“Everyone except Annabeth.”
Percy tenses, his attention snapping back to the fort as he searches for a sign, any sign, of familiar blond hair. But all he sees are Roman soldiers, their numbers massing as they prepare for a full assault. Percy feels a hand clap him on the shoulder and hears Jason’s calm voice next to him. “She’ll make it back. We just have to buy her time.”
Percy wars with the part of himself that wants to do nothing more than wade into the sea of Romans before him, to tear apart the fort until he finds his Wise Girl. But a glimpse of black hair out of the corner of his eye forces him to pull back that storm. His past self is twelve - twelve. If he leaves the ship, the kid will follow him, and Percy knows he has no way to guarantee he’ll be able to protect him. But Annabeth…
Annabeth is the most powerful demigod he knows. She’ll come back to him, he knows she will. He just needs to make sure she has a ship to come back to. “You’re right,” he tells Jason, acknowledging the blond’s hand with one of his own before turning to Leo.
“Leo, we need to be ready to leave as soon as Annabeth gets back. Hedge, Piper, Frank, Hazel…” Percy finally takes in the rest of the ship beyond Leo at the controls, and registers Coach Hedge on one of the mounted crossbows, the other demigods in various defensive positions along the rail. Good. Nothing needs to change there. “Okay. Then-” Here he turns to his younger self, because Percy remembers exactly how distractible and accident prone he was at twelve. “Try not to wander off, okay?”
Percy is surprised to see the kid tense, an indignant look on his face. “If you give me a sword, I could help.” Percy just blinks, because that is not what he thought he was going to say. The kid shrinks back down a little when Percy doesn't say anything, though the frustration is still visible in his eyes. “Sort of. I mean, I could try.”
Hestia, I really am twelve. Because Percy remembers feeling useless in a fight, remembers hating feeling like he can’t contribute anything - which has lessened as he’s gotten older, but he still has his moments. So Percy forces a grin, because the kid doesn’t need doubt from him right now, he needs confidence. “Oh, we’re not going to be using swords.” He looks over at Jason, who reflects Percy’s troublemaking grin with one of his own.
“Kansas?” the son of Jupiter asks.
“Kansas,” the son of Poseidon confirms.
Celestial bronze crosses Imperial Gold as Jason pulls out his own sword, and Percy closes his eyes, blocking out the world as he focuses on the water. He calls it to him, whipping it up into the air, curving it in circles around him and Jason, faster and faster - the same way he does when he creates a personal hurricane. This is the exact same thing, just on a much bigger and more destructive scale.
Because Percy can feel the wind whistling by them, following the curves set by Percy’s water, widening them and making their own, both elements working together to form this storm. Percy can sense the sea and the sky wanting to fight each other, can feel the sea wanting to spiral out of his control, to rage against the coastline and destroy everything it touches. And Percy bends his element to his will and tells it no. You obey us, and you will listen.
Peripherally, a part of Percy is aware of the crashing of waves coupled with the howling of the wind, of distant screaming Romans interspersed with awed comments from his younger self. But Percy’s focus remains on the storm, urging it to give him more in its defense of their ship, their people - his self.
So Percy senses it when a new person enters their storm - because he recognizes her. The girl who took a knife for him, who has saved his life more times than he could ever count. The storm rages around her, but Percy growls back at it. You do not touch her. And it doesn’t. Waves curl away from her, wind clears a path before her, and Percy finally feels her footsteps pound across the deck, hears her voice call out, “Leo, take off!” And he knows the Seven are indeed seven once more.
Percy opens his eyes, sees Jason open his barely a second later, and across their swords the boys exchange the plan in a glance. Celestial bronze slides past Imperial Gold as both blades point at the shore, and the storm pushes - pushes the Romans back from the coast, and pushes the Argo II out to sea. Percy isn’t sure how long he and Jason keep the storm up after they leave the shore, but without warning his vision starts going fuzzy around the edges and his body feels heavy, the same way it does before he-
Percy blacks out, and comes to in what he knows are his girlfriend’s arms. “Fuck,” he mutters without opening his eyes, dragging one hand up to rub at his temples. “That’s draining.”
“I’ll bet.”
Annabeth. At the sound of her voice Percy blinks his eyes open and smiles at her, then movement registers and Percy squints over at his younger self, the kid standing off to one side like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself. Time to fix that. “What’d you think, kid?” Percy asks with a grin.
The kid in question comes closer and returns Percy’s grin. “Awesome. I wish I could do something like that.”
Percy’s grin falters for a second, because he’d suspected the kid wasn’t claimed yet, but this cements it and fuck his self-esteem used to be so very nonexistent. He’s drawn out of his thoughts by Annabeth smacking his shoulder, and he shoots her an indignant look. “Something you forgot to mention to me, Seaweed Brain?”
Percy squints at her for a long moment, trying to figure out what he was supposed to mention to his girlfriend. She cuts her gaze from him to the kid a couple times, then it clicks. Right. Younger self, definite time travel going on, he’s the older one in this equation so he should have known this would happen. Except- “Honestly,” Percy says, groaning a little as he moves himself into a sitting position, or as close as he can get. “I have no memory of this. If this happened to me, I forgot it.”
“How do you forget something like this?” Piper, and Percy hadn’t realized the daughter of Aphrodite was next to him. She’s supporting a Jason who looks as coherent as Percy is right now - which is barely.
“It’s a talent,” Annabeth answers for him, and Percy would shove at her if she wasn’t the only thing keeping him upright. He’s debating risking passing out again to summon just a bit of water to splash her when a small voice interrupts his thoughts.
“Um. Why would you remember this happening?”
Percy just stares at his younger self for a long moment. I still haven’t figured it out? The moment Percy has that thought Jason voices it, and Percy suddenly realizes it’s not surprising he hasn’t connected the dots yet. It did take him the better part of a day to realize he was a demigod. “Cut me some slack, Grace,” Percy calls sideways at his friends. “I’m twelve.”
“You don’t look twelve.”
Percy raises an eyebrow at his younger self. “I’m not twelve. You are.”
“I know.”
The two black haired boys blink at each other, and Percy waits for even a hint of understanding in the sea green eyes in front of him. But there is nothing, and Percy lets out a long sigh and lets his head tilt back. “Gods, Annabeth, I was hopeless as a kid. How did I survive?”
He knows the answer - it’s because he had her. But Annabeth’s reply surprises him somewhat. “Give yourself some credit. He’s figuring it out. He just needs to look closer.”
Percy isn’t so sure, but as he watches the kid’s eyes narrow, scanning him up and down. The kid meets Percy’s eyes, still confused, and Percy smirks. Come on, kid. Get there. Less than a second later Percy sees understanding light in his younger self’s eyes, and he watches as a myriad of emotions cross the kid’s face. Percy waits for the first question to be asked, because he knows there’s a lot, and he isn’t surprised by the first one out of the kid’s mouth.
“My dad's Poseidon?”
Percy grins, remembering those first few days at Camp Half-Blood, and how Clarisse and he have a rivalry for a good reason. “You’re going to enjoy Capture the Flag, Percy.” He gets a relieved smile in return, then before his eyes the kid fades, leaving no sign that he was ever there.
Except…Percy remembers now.
“Di immortales,” he breathes. “I thought it was a dream.”
“You have the weirdest dreams, Seaweed Brain, I swear,” Annabeth says, shaking her head at him.
Percy remembers satyrs in wedding dresses, twin giants dressed in matching outfits arguing about explosions, and faces in mountains telling him he will be a pawn in his own destruction.
“Some things don’t change,” Percy replies, then his world fades out once more.