Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I looked over at Grover as he held the dead tortoise-lyre. Apollo wanted us to capture the Celedon using THAT? I wanted to say no to the quest, but you can’t really do that to a god. They might turn you into a dolphin or just vaporize you. I’d been threatened with both often enough.

Apollo either didn’t notice the look of incredulity on my face or more likely, didn’t care. He clapped me on the shoulder, as if everything was settled and agreed to, which in his mind, I suppose it was. “Excellent!” he said, beaming. “I’ll meet you at the Empire State Building at sunset. Bring me the Celedon. One way or another, I’ll convince Hephaestus to fix her. Just don’t be late! I can’t keep my audience waiting. And remember, not a scratch on-”

 *CRAAACK*

The air a few meters away from us seemed to twist somehow, turning weird, glimmering shades of green, before expelling two figures onto the ground, and then fading into nothingness.

One figure seemed larger than the other. The figure groaned and raised his head, revealing a teenage boy not much older than me, wearing an orange hoodie. His face seemed almost green, and I hastily retreated a few more steps, which turned out to be a wise decision. He vomited on the ground, groaning.

 The other figure wasn’t doing much better. She sat up, revealing a pre-teen girl with short black hair, rhinestone glasses askew on her face, and wearing a green dress. I frowned at that dress. It seemed vaguely familiar. 

The girl’s face was also tinged green, but she didn’t hurl. Her eyes darted around, scanning for threats. Her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw Apollo, and I saw her hands twitch slightly, as if getting ready to attack, if it came to a fight. Good instincts for a demigod, but I hoped she wouldn’t suddenly attack the greek god. He’d just threatened to incinerate Grover if he scratched his lyre. I was pretty sure he’d vaporize the girl on the spot if she tried to hurt him.

Then her eyes fell on me and Grover. They widened slightly, and she seemed to relax. At least her hands had stopped twitching. “Percy? Grover?” she asked, sounding confused. “Where are we? What happened? Who’s this guy?” she asked, gesturing towards Apollo.

“Uuuuh…” I said. I had no idea who either of these people were, but the girl at least seemed to know me. And she didn’t recognize Apollo, which surprised me. He looked pretty similar to his most common portrayals, with his golden hair and perfect teeth. 

She looked over at her companion as he groaned and sat up. He glanced around, a look of recognition passing over his face as he looked at Grover and I. Then he noticed Apollo, and his jaw dropped.

Apollo meanwhile was looking at the arrivals curiously, seemingly unsure what to make of them. He didn’t appear particularly worried, but I supposed he’d seen much stranger things than kids appearing out of thin air. He grinned when he saw Hoodie Boy staring at him, his jaw slack and eyes bulging. “Ah! An adoring fan!” Apollo cried. “I’m afraid that I don’t have time to talk, I have to practice for the concert tonight. I don’t know who you got to teleport you here, but you’ll simply have to buy a ticket like everyone else if you want to come.”

The boy continued to stare for a moment, then started making choking noises. Moments later, they graduated to full-on deranged laughter, tears streaming down Hoodie Boy’s face as he gave up on trying to get up and simply rolled onto his back. 

The girl looked at him, concerned, as the boy giggled as if his mind had snapped. “Apollo!” she cried, alarmed. Weirdly enough, she seemed to be talking to her companion, not to the god standing next to me. “APOLLO,” she shouted, this time more firmly, “Tell me what’s going on.”

Apollo looked affronted at the implication that a girl was trying to tell him what to do, but I could also see a trace of fear in his face. She still seemed to be talking to Hoodie Boy, not actually TO Apollo, though she’d used his name twice.

Hoodie Boy slowed down his laughter, regaining enough breath to speak. “This… this HAS to be an illusion. A nightmare. It CAN’T be real.”

The girl frowned and closed her eyes. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on something. A moment later she opened her eyes. “Feels real to me. I can sense Grover and a bunch of dryads. Also a lot of trees, grass, and flowers. It feels nice.”

I wasn’t sure how this girl could sense all that. It sounded like she could sense nature, which made me think she was a daughter of Demeter, but I’d never heard of Demeter’s kids being able to sense satyrs.

“But this CAN’T be real!” Hoodie Boy repeated himself hysterically. 

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because that’s ME!” Hoodie Boy pointed at Apollo, who looked more and more uncertain about his supposed fan.

Apollo looked somewhat panicked at that, but tried to downplay it. “You AREN’T me. Now I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I need to start practicing, and these two need to capture my rogue backup singer,” he said, nodding in my and Grover’s direction.

“Rogue backup singer?” Meg asked, arching an eyebrow. 

Hoodie Boy nodded. “Those golden women are my backup singers. But one of them malfunctioned and ran off. I guess I sent Grover and Percy to retrieve them?” he looked at me questioningly, as if asking for my confirmation. I nodded, though I thought that Apollo saying that I needed to retrieve them a minute ago should have been confirmation enough.

Apollo interjected, “HEY, they’re MY backup singers, not YOURS! I don’t know WHY you think you’re me, but you’re NOT!” His words were firm, but his expression was uncertain.

The girl (I really had to ask for her name at some point) snorted. “Yep, I can tell he’s you.” 

It didn’t sound like a compliment.

“Why don’t you get the backup singers back yourself?” she asked Apollo, addressing him for the first time.

“That’s what heroes are for, doing things we don’t want to be bothered with. Plus, like I said, I need to prepare for my concert.”

The girl stared at him for a moment, then firmly declared, “You’re stupid.”

I gaped at her. I thought I was the only one who would so blatantly insult gods to their face!

Grover let out a whimper, looking at Apollo. His face had hardened, and he began glowing. I edged towards the girl, hoping to somehow protect her from the god’s wrath. What she just did was dumb, but she didn’t deserve to die for it.

The girl, who previously had been completely relaxed, started showing signs of fear and uncertainty in her face. Before she could say anything else, Hoodie Boy surged to his feet. 

His knees shook, and I was sure he was about to fall over, but he somehow stayed standing. His expression made me freeze. Apollo looked irritated, even mad, but Hoodie Boy’s expression was absolutely livid. His hands shook. For a second I thought it was because he was still shaky from the teleportation, but then I realized it was in anger. But… there was MORE than just anger in his eyes. 

“Do not harm her,” he hissed. He might as well have been shouting. “Don’t you dare harm ANY of them.” 

“You’re not-” Apollo cut in, trying to appear intimidating. But it was clear he was terrified. I wasn’t sure why - there was no way this kid could kill him, and probably not even harm him. But his voice shook anyway.

“LOOK AT ME!” Hoodie Boy shouted. “REALLY LOOK AT ME, DON’T JUST STARE THROUGH ME LIKE WE ALWAYS DID, DON’T PRETEND PEOPLE FEEL THE WAY THAT’S CONVENIENT FOR US, FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, TRY TO UNDERSTAND!”

And Apollo LOOKED.

His expression morphed from uncertainty to pure horror.

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!” He cried.

“Yep,” Hoodie Boy said, popping the ‘p’.

“What’s going on?” I asked, feeling like I’d missed something.

Apollo just continued saying “No no no,” pacing around, looking like he was about to have a panic attack.

“He just realized that I was telling the truth.” Hoodie Boy said calmly.

Wait, so that meant…

“You’re Apollo?”

I took a closer look at him. He looked nothing like the god, though that didn’t mean much. Gods are shapeshifters, they can look however they like. It was weird for Apollo to choose such a normal-looking form, however. With his brown curly hair, average muscle tone, and acne-ridden skin, he just looked like a typical teenager. I wouldn’t have given him a second glance if I had passed by him on the street. Great for going incognito, but if he was trying to stay hidden, then why was he going by his real name? And why hadn’t he just changed form in front of Apollo, if he wanted to prove it was him? Also, why were there two Apollos? 

Hoodie!Apollo looked closely at me, as if searching for something. It felt like he was actually listening to what I said, unlike with the other Apollo, who had brushed off my objections to his quest.

Whatever it was, I guess he found it, because he began speaking. “I AM Apollo. But I’m not a god right now. My father stripped me of my divinity and sent me down to earth, because he needed a scapegoat for how poorly the last war went. I was convenient. I made some bad decisions, but most of the things he blamed me for were NOT my fault. He sent me down to earth in this mortal form, with no powers, no equipment, and a faulty memory. I couldn’t even remember what he wanted me to do in order to regain his favor. To make matters worse, that’s when some mortal thugs showed up and beat me up.”

“I sent fruit after them and they ran off,” the girl added.

I was tired of calling her ‘the girl’ in my head all the time. “What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Meg,” she replied, though her gaze had wandered from me towards the still-pacing god. “Hey, how long is he gonna freak out?”

“Give it a few more minutes,” he replied, sounding resigned and a bit annoyed.

“So, uh… how are there two of you? And are you talking about the war with Kronos?” I asked, trying to get things back on track.

He regarded me thoughtfully for a moment. “If this isn’t an illusion, then it looks like we either traveled to another universe, or back in time somehow-”

His eyes widened and he jolted. Back-in-time, he mouthed.

“Jason,” he whispered. “Crest.” 

I didn’t know who they were, but Meg did. 

“Can we help them?” she asked urgently.

“We have to try.”

Frantically, words spilled out of him. “Jason Grace, he’s Thalia’s little brother, he went on a quest with us that he KNEW he’d die on, because the prophecy said that if he helped us, either he or Piper would die, and he couldn’t let Piper die. A-and Crest, he’s a Pandos, he’s with his uncle and other Pandai, but he wants to be a musician. He- he just wanted to play the ukulele. He- he-” Apollo started sobbing, grief twisting his expression.

I slowly approached the teen, and reached my arm around him. I watched him carefully, ready to withdraw if he didn’t want to be touched. Instead he leaned into me and cried into my arms. 

I still wasn’t 100% sure that this guy WAS Apollo - he certainly didn’t act like the deity. But he needed help, and a hug. I knew what he was feeling. It was the same as when Bianca had died. And if this kid Jason WAS actually Thalia’s brother, and he had died… well I still remembered telling Nico that his sister was dead. I didn’t want to think what Thalia’s reaction to being told that her brother  was dead would be like.

We just stood there for a few more moments. Then I heard a soft coughing from Grover.

I looked over at him. “What?”

“Uh, Percy? What about the Celedon?”

OH NO.

“We’ve gotta GO!” I shouted in alarm, dread trickling down my neck. If anyone had gotten hurt because we’d been distracted…

“Why?” Meg asked.

“Apollo’s backup singer can enchant people, make them angry, or sleepy, or a bunch of things. In a city like New York, she could EASILY cause a bunch of major traffic accidents,” I said.

Meg and Apollo looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Meg broke away first.

 “We’re coming with you,” she announced. “We want to help.”

Apollo nodded, looking nervous, but determined. “I should have done it the first time around. But at least I’ll help this time. I should be resistant to her music, I might be able to help.”

I looked at them and nodded. I wasn’t sure what they could do, but I wasn’t going to turn down more help. “Okay, let’s go.”

As we left the park, I spared one more look at the god Apollo, muttering to himself wildly, and then ran off with my new friends.

Chapter Text

I studied Hoodie Apollo’s face as we all ran out of Central Park. He looked guilty and bitter, though I wasn’t sure why. Because he sent us on this quest alone last time? At least, assuming he was right about being a mortal Apollo sent back in time by some method (note to self: ask how that happened). I didn’t think he was lying. The emotions he showed were too raw and genuine for that, plus there was God Apollo’s reaction to consider. But I still had a hard time believing it. A lot of strange things had happened to me since I became a demigod, but this would DEFINITELY go in my top ten.

“So where’s the Celedon?” Meg asked as we exited. Apollo thought for a moment, slowing down as a look of embarrassment swept over his face. 

“I… uh… I… don’t know,” he admitted sheepishly. “Percy and Grover found her last time, I didn’t care enough to ask about it.” A bitter tone tinged the last part of that sentence. I was beginning to worry about this guy, whoever he was. He really seemed to hate his past self, or at least who he believed was his past self.  “But they found, stopped her, and brought her back to Central Park by sundown, so it can’t have taken TOO long. So, uh…? Percy, Grover… where do you think we should look?”

I blinked, caught off-guard. I’d been looking forwards to not having to lead the quest. Oh well. At least I had more help than I originally thought I would.

A diva who wanted to make a name for herself singing to the largest crowd she could…

“Times Square,” I said after a minute. “It’s in the theater district and is full of tourists just walking around, able to hear her singing.”

Apollo smiled at me and nodded appreciatively. “That makes a lot of sense. It’s where I’d go, if I was a Celedon. To Times Square it is!” He walked authoritatively for a few yards in one direction, then stopped. “Er… how do we get there again? Normally I’d just fly over there in my Sun Chariot, but right now…”

Meg sniggered. “Come on, Oh Great God of Getting Lost. I’ll show you how to use the subway.”

Apollo shot Meg a slightly annoyed look, which she ignored. He huffed and started after her, Grover and myself close behind.

As we rode the subway, I glanced at the dead-turtle-lyre God Apollo had forced onto Grover. “Hey, Grover? Do you know how to use that thing?”

“Well, uh… kind of? I learned the basics, and us satyrs have a natural affinity for music, so hopefully that’ll be enough?”

“I can play it,” Apollo chimed in.

I nearly smacked myself. OF COURSE Apollo could play his own lyre, mortal or not. Though if he was mortal…

“Hey Apollo?” I asked. “Does the lyre have any powers of its own? Will it still work if the musician is mortal?”

“Oh yes,” he said, looking like Annabeth does when someone brings up architecture around her. “This is the lyre I used the first time I was turned mortal, in fact. I helped build the walls of Troy using this lyre.”

Huh?

Did he use the lyre as some sort of divine brick-laying tool?

I mean, I’d seen stranger improvisations (I will always savor Rachel hitting Kronos in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush), but it still seemed weird.

My confusion must have been evident on my face because Apollo continued explaining. “This lyre conjures up items based on the music you play. Back then, that meant bricks. Lots and lots of bricks. But it can summon other things too.”

“Like a cage for the Celedon?”

“Yes, like that,” he agreed.

Grover handed the lyre over to Apollo, but he hesitated a bit as he slowly held it out to Apollo, as if struck by a nervous thought.

“Er… Apollo?” he asked nervously, starting to chew his shirt in his anxiety. (He’s a satyr, he does things like that. One time he got so nervous and hungry he had eaten massive holes in his shirt before he’d realized it was even in his mouth. It couldn’t be salvaged, so he took it off and ate the rest of it.)

“Just… be careful not to scratch it, okay? Please? Apollo - er-  the OTHER Apollo said he’d incinerate me if I did, and he’s really freaked out right now so I don’t know WHAT he’d do if it was damaged.”

“Incinerate..?” he said disbelievingly, his voice squeaking at the end. “I… said that?”

“if you damage it, I’ll incinerate you,” I recalled. “That’s what he said.”

“I…” the guy looked close to tears. “I… I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have even considered it. Your lives are worth more than a musical instrument. Plus you were doing a favor for ME. It was WRONG.”

He took in a shaky breath. “Grover, I know you’re not friends with me now, in this timeline. And considering how I acted, I’m surprised your counterpart is friends with ME in my timeline,” he said with a wry smile. “But I still consider you to be one of my friends, and I wouldn’t hurt you no matter HOW annoyed I was at you, even if you DO like Walt Whitman.” (I was confused at this, but Grover seemed to recognize the name at least). “I won’t allow you to be hurt either, not while I have the power to stop it.” his eyes gleamed softly, and for a moment I thought they were glowing. It was gone so quickly, I wasn’t sure whether it was a trick of the light. “If my past self gives you trouble, I’ll handle him.”

“Thanks,” Grover replied. “I thought with this quest that this would be a pretty bad birthday, but meeting you had made it less-bad than I thought.”

“It’s your birthday?” Apollo asked, looking surprised.

“Really, Apollo? You did this on Grover’s birthday?” Meg chimed in, sounding annoyed.

“I didn’t…” he closed his eyes for his moments and furrowed his brow. “I… thought it was Percy’s birthday?” he muttered to himself, eyes still closed. “Wait, but Percy’s next birthday he was turning sixteen, the Great Prophecy hinged on that, I KNEW this wasn’t his birthday…” he trailed off and opened his eyes.

He took in a deep breath and left it out, then took turns looking Grover and I each in the eyes.

“I didn’t care,” he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness and self-hatred. “It didn’t matter to me whose birthday it was, or what you were already doing. Because I was a god, I was more important, my needs were more important than yours. So why should I bother remembering that it was Grover’s birthday? It had no effect on me, and I was the only one who mattered.”

“Then I was turned mortal again, and had to live with you, amongst you, as one of you, AS EQUALS. And I cared.”

“I don’t know what made the difference this time, exactly. I didn’t care the last two times I was turned mortal. But then again, those times, I stayed separate from most mortals and their struggles. I didn’t experience what they did. And I was still partially divine, I still looked like myself, I still had ichor in my veins. Or maybe because this time, I was with people who needed me. Not because I was a god, but for who I was.”

His eyes shimmered with unreleased tears. “My children…” he whispered. “I barely knew them, but they did everything they could to make me comfortable at Camp Half-Blood, even though I just wanted to sulk. They embraced me as family. I’d only appeared in their dreams every now-and-then. They acted more like family towards me in those few days I spent at Camp Half-Blood, than I had towards them in their entire lives. I couldn’t even REMEMBER the last time anyone had cared about me that much, AS A PERSON. I didn’t deserve them. I DON’T deserve them. I’m their father, and yet THEY took care of ME. I can’t… I can’t think of myself as their father. Not really. I haven’t earned the title. But they’re my family, and I will protect… them…”

His eyes grew wide. “MICHAEL!” he shouted, startling the other passengers.

“Huh?” I said, confused. A nauseous feeling broiled in my stomach. Why would Apollo look so frantic about his oldest son? At least the oldest one at Camp.

“He… he died. In the Battle of New York City. I… I don’t know how. I and the other gods were busy fighting Typhon at the time. I don’t know if you can change anything. I don’t know if anything that happens now can change fate. But… still, please. Look after him?”

I looked at his pleading face, remembering the last time someone had asked me to look after their family. She had died a few days later. But…

“I’ll try,” I promised. I hesitated. “You know that I don’t have a great track record with keeping people from dying though, right? I promised Nico that I’d try to keep Bianca safe. I failed.”

“I don’t have the best track record with keeping people safe either,” he admitted. “I promised Thalia I’d check in on Jason, on her little brother. He went on a quest with me to help defeat one of the emperors, Caligula. He’d gotten a prophecy a few months before that said that if he and Piper helped me, one of them would die. He could have refused to help. No one could have stopped him. I certainly couldn’t compel him too, the way I am now. But he helped anyway, because more people would die if we didn’t help take Caligula down.”

He took a shaky breath as the tears ran down his face, unable to hold them in anymore. “The… the prophecy said that it could’ve been either of them. He decided that he would be the one to die. He couldn’t bear the thought of Piper dying. I… I said that we’d succeed without either of them dying. He just smiled and made a joke. But he… he asked me to make a promise. To.. to take the designs for some shrines he’d been working on back to Camp after he died, and… and  to remember… to remember what it’s like to be human.” He let out a choking sob. 

“Even then, even as he was about to march to his death, he was worried about his fellow demigods, OUR FAMILY, who we’ve mistreated so, SO badly. Because they were more important to him than his own life. He was a hero.”

His puffy and bloodshot eyes took on a steely glint. “I’m keeping that promise. I WILL remember this if I survive, if I regain my godhood. And I WILL make things better. I promise.”

This guy… he’d been through so much. He had so much self-loathing and self-hatred for what he’d done, and for what he’d failed to do. He recognized his mistakes and was trying to fix them. Because he CARED. 

I pulled Apollo into another hug. He stopped holding back his tears, letting out huge sobs.

“He would be proud of you,” I told him. “You’re trying. That’s enough. He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up endlessly.” I didn’t KNOW Jason, but based on what he’d told me, I was fairly confident I was right. “Just try. That’s the best any of us humans can do.”

Apollo smiled as he pulled away, breaking my hug. “Thanks.”

As we pulled into our stop, I took another look at Apollo. He looked nothing like the god I had seen earlier. He didn’t glow when upset. Yet right now, as he stared determinedly at the doors, ready to help capture the Celedon, to make sure she didn’t harm any innocent mortals, I thought that he’d never shone brighter.

Chapter Text

Apollo’s POV

We arrived in Times Square. Hopefully we could find the Celedon BEFORE she started causing havoc.

I wasn’t optimistic.

But that did remind me of something…

“Percy, Meg, do you two need something to stuff your ears with? Grover and I should be resistant to the Celedon’s music, but I’m concerned about you two.

Meg split open a seed packet and poured a few seeds into each of her ears. “I’m fine.”

Grover dug out a small ball of warm wax from… somewhere (I did NOT want to know where, or how long it’d been there) and held it out to Percy. “I always keep wax handy. Like chewing gum!”

Percy looked at the wax with disgust, but he took it. “Gee, thanks Grover.” 

We wandered around the area searching for the Celedon. I wasn’t too concerned about not being able to find her. She wasn’t here to hide, after all. Finding her before she could cause harm though… I was less certain of that.

As the four of us walked around looking for the golden woman, my mind went over the events of the past hour.

I’d known I could be callous as a god. I knew that I hadn’t put much weight on mortal lives, or mortals’ feelings. But to actually seriously threaten a young girl, just for insulting me…?

Actually, that sounded exactly like something I would’ve done before all this.

The thought wasn’t comforting.

Threatening Meg, threatening Grover. Even if I couldn’t say for sure that I’d have gone through with those threats, I wasn’t sure that I WOULDN’T have, either. And even if I could say for sure that those WERE empty threats, THEY didn’t know that. 

‘It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both.’

I’d always felt weirdly about line, and I couldn’t figure out why. Everyone loved me! I could instill fear when I needed to, but I didn’t have to choose.

That had sounded hollow and false even in my head, but I’d ignored it, like I’d ignored so many other uncomfortable truths throughout the millennia.

Subconsciously I always knew I wasn’t as beloved as I liked to tell myself. So whenever I felt like I might not be getting as much deference as I deserved, I compensated with fear. That’s why I’d stoked that rumor that I’d skinned Marsyas alive, so that no one would DARE to claim that they were better than me.

I didn’t care about the negative effects it had on the people around me. Why should I care about some random kid’s feelings?

Being down on Earth, truly being a part of the mortal’s world, and not simply a visitor… I couldn’t help but care.

I glanced over at Percy. This was only two years in the past, yet this version of -Percy seemed so much lighter. Softer. Less disillusioned. But he’d already been through so much.

At twelve years old, only a couple weeks after discovering he was a demigod, he’d been framed for a crime he did not commit, and forced to prove his innocence and return Zeus’s Masterbolt, or else suffer his wrath.

I remembered Zeus’s thundering around when he discovered that his Symbol of Power was missing, his certainty that Poseidon MUST have gotten his son to steal it for him. This despite there being no evidence that Percy had even known the mythological world existed. And being only twelve years old. And not being on Olympus at the time.

All us gods knew that Percy was innocent. That Zeus was taking his anger out on him as a way of getting back at Poseidon, who he also didn’t have sufficient evidence to suspect. But when had he ever cared about such things? He’d decided that Percy must be involved with the theft in some way, and even if he wasn’t, Poseidon surely was, and hurting Percy would hurt Poseidon. 

He never stopped to think about Percy as a person. As a kid who was dragged into this through no fault of his own. He was just a tool, one he wouldn’t mind breaking in a sibling spat.

All demigods were disposable tools, acknowledged when useful, ignored when they were not. 

I wish I could say that I had thought better of demigods than that. And I suppose I had - of some of them. Of my own children certainly. But as for other gods’ children? It was more hit-or-miss. I’d help them sometimes, but I rarely considered their thoughts and feelings important, unless I had a crush on them. Aside from that? Not really. Not until now.

When Thalia’s tree had fallen ill, all of us were concerned about the Camp’s waning defenses. Yet Hermes was the only one who had DONE something about it, who had gone down and helped, despite not having a child involved in the quest itself. He’d encouraged Percy to go on the quest, even though he hadn’t been chosen for it. He’d even given him tools to help on the journey.

I smiled a little. My younger brother was a rebel. Always had been.  He’d had the guts to go against Zeus’s general directive to not interfere with demigod quests, to help someone he barely knew, on the off chance that he could bring his son around.

My smile faded. Luke… his methods may have been bad, but he had reason to hate the gods. We’d wronged the demigods - wronged our children - wronged the children of others’ - so many times. We hadn’t cared about the destruction we left behind.

I’d only been mortal for a few months, yet I already felt some stirrings of resentment at the lack of help I and the other mortals had received. I understood why most of the gods couldn’t help me. But couldn’t they do more to help the others?

I hoped I was wrong. I hoped that the divine side of my family had helped Leo get to Camp Jupiter. That they’d helped to repel Caligula’s attack.

Somehow, I doubted it.

Percy’d snuck out to go on a quest AGAIN when my sister and Annabeth were kidnapped.

I tightened my grip on my lyre and grit my teeth thinking about it. I remembered the moment our bond had clouded over. I’d tried to tell myself that she was fine. She was my sister! She wouldn’t be taken down easily.

But I couldn’t help but remember that time Ares had been trapped in a jar for months. How lifeless he’d looked. How he’d nearly faded away…

When I’d heard that a quest had been sent out to find Artemis, I’d been relieved. Moreso when I found out that one of the participants was Percy Jackson, and another was Zoe Nightshade. I’d been impressed with Percy’s previous exploits. Not just anyone could traipse out of the Underworld and immediately defeat Ares, especially after only having had a week of training, nor could they enter the Sea of Monsters and escape with the Golden Fleece, WITHOUT losing anyone along the way.

As for Zoe, she was one of my sister’s oldest hunters, her most trusted lieutenant, and her best friend. She’d had my sis’s back on many, MANY hunts over the millennia. She must have been as desperate to get Artemis back as I was.

Still… I had to help. Even though Zeus had told me not to. Even though he’d threatened to hurt me if he caught me interfering. 

It would hurt to be incinerated with lightning, again and again, until I had trouble reforming.

Losing my sister would hurt more.

I’d helped in what little way I could, providing transportation to the group so they could get to Atlas - and my sister - faster.

I remembered seeing sis again just after they’d freed her from her imprisonment. After Percy had freed her.

She tore into Olympus as fast as she could, flickering silver. 

I understood what that meant. My sister didn’t cry often. But her aura’s flickers betrayed her distress. As soon as I saw her, I enveloped her in a hug, determined not to let her go. 

She hugged back.

“Zoe…” she’d murmured, her voice cracking.

I understood what must have happened.

I held her even tighter.

My sister may have been safe.  But she’d lost someone close to her.

I knew how that felt.

After things had calmed down, I asked her how Atlas had persuaded her to take the sky in the first place. She’d told me that Annabeth, a young maiden, had been trapped under the weight of the sky, and would have died if she had carried the burden much longer. Taking it from her was the only way to save her life. It may have meant trapping herself, but she had had no other choice.

I’d always known how far my sister would go to help girls in trouble, so I wasn’t surprised. But I’d never understood why she’d go so far to help mortals she barely even knew.

I understood now. The lessons I’d been learning the past few months, of the value of mortals, she’d learned long ago. Or perhaps she’d always known them. 

I smirked, remembering my encounter with Ares a few months later. He’d mentioned cursing Percy to drop his sword in retaliation for Percy kicking his butt during the lightning-bolt-stealing incident. (Not in those words of course, but we all knew what’d happened.) I’d given him a tight smile and left as quickly as possible, not trusting myself to speak.

I’d headed straight to Artemis, relishing how easily our bond let me find her. I’d insisted on checking in on her every other day for months after her capture. She hadn’t protested.

I told her what Ares had done. How he’d cursed Percy to drop his sword when he needed it most. Cold fury filled her eyes. She’d made arrangements with her Hunters and left with me to track down Ares.

We’d found him less than an hour later. He’d made for good target practice.

About eight months after Artemis’ kidnapping, while we were hunting down monsters that might be turned to Kronos’s cause, I’d heard that Kronos’s forces had invaded Camp Half-Blood.

And that they’d killed one of my sons.

Lee…

I hadn’t gotten to know him as well as I wanted to. 

I’d visited him in his dreams, of course, like I did with all my children. But I’d only seen him in-person a handful of times. And I REALLY hadn’t seen him - or any of my kids - much since Kronos started stirring.

I didn’t have much time to mourn. So I shoved the thoughts away, buried them under the need to party. To have the adoration of a crowd.

I’d lost many, many children over the millennia. I’d gotten good at coping with it.

Hopefully with Percy’s help, this universe’s version of me wouldn’t have to cope with Michael’s loss as well.

“THERE SHE IS!”

My head snapped upwards at Percy’s yell.

A gleaming golden woman was walking across a nearby stage to the center microphone.

We rushed over, elbowing people out of the way. Truthfully, Grover and I mostly just followed in Percy’s and Meg’s wake. Percy could have a pretty intimidating presence when he needed to, which was helping him get the crowd to move apart, and Meg was… well, Meg. I winced slightly as I heard another swear from one of the poor pedestrians Meg had elbowed out of the way. 

Just as the Celedon reached the microphone, the four of us reached the stage.

Percy and Meg summoned their blades.

Grover fumbled for his pan-pipes. 

I moved my lyre into playing position.

The Celedon opened her mouth and sang.

It was only one note, but the sorrow in it caused the mortals to drop to the ground, weeping uncontrollably. 

Meg and Percy were only a little better off. Both froze as the note rang out, though at least they remained standing.

Oh. They’d both forgotten to put in their hearing protection. Crap.

Grover frantically started playing on his pipes, trying to drown out the Celedon’s song. He didn’t entirely succeed, but he did disrupt it enough that the mortals - and our friends - began to stir.

“PERCY, MEG!” I shouted. “YOUR HEARING PROTECTION!”

Percy quickly stuffed wax in his ears, while Meg closed her eyes. Moments later, bluebonnets sprouted from her ears. 

Now that my friends hearing situation was fixed, I turned my attention to my lyre. I needed to trap her, obviously. Now how could I do that…?

My fingers started moving before I could finish that thought, weaving a familiar melody on the lyre. Walls rose up around the Celedon, twenty feet high. surrounding her - and Percy and Meg - in a nearly impenetrable cage.

Then she turned into a bird and flew out, leaving my friends trapped in a now-quite-unfortunately nearly impenetrable cage - so long as you couldn’t get out the top somehow.

Right. I forgot my Celedons could do that.

“APOLLO!” I heard Meg’s muffled shout from the other side of the wall. “LET US OUT!”

“Well, uh, you see,” I stammered, embarrassed. “I… can’t exactly do that. The lyre creates. It doesn’t destroy.”

I could practically feel Meg’s unimpressed stare. “You can’t…? Never mind. Just make a ladder or something so we can get out.”

I strummed on the lyre a melody about climbing out of deep holes. A rope manifested. I threw it over the wall and quickly secured the other end to a lightpole.

A minute later, Percy and Meg climbed out of my open-air cage. I noticed that the flowers were gone from Meg’s ears, which explained how she could hear me before.

Meg set her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “You never said she could turn into a bird.”

“I forgot.”

She grunted, looking annoyed. “Well is there anything else we should know about the Celedon that you forgot?”

I wracked my brain, trying to think of anything. I’d been getting a feeling I was forgetting something about the Celedons, but what? I mean, I used them as my back-up singers for concerts, but they could also amplify my singing for other… things…

Oooooh. That wasn’t good.

Percy noticed the look on my face. “I don’t like that expression. What else can she do?” he asked, clearly dreading my answer.

I licked my lips nervously. “Well, you see, the Celedons are my backup singers. But they don’t just back me up at concerts. They can back me up when singing anything. Healing songs, plague songs, burn-everything-with-fire songs…”

Percy’s face twisted into an expression I had dubbed the “Oh Crap” expression. I’d worn it often over the past few months.

“Great,” Meg grumbled. “More fiery charmspeakers.”

“Technically, the Celedons don’t charmspeak-”

“They make people want to do what they say. Close enough.”

Percy cut in urgently. “She could burn New York to the ground, or start an epidemic?!’

“Well they’d be a fraction of the strength of what I’m normally capable of, so she could hardly affect ALL of New York. A block at most.”

Percy paled. “We have GOT to stop her. NOW.”

I nodded. “That’s great, but we need to FIND her first.”

“She went over that way,” Grover said, pointing to a tower.

We all turned to look at him. He looked back at us, annoyed. “What? I needed to do something to help while Apollo was getting you two out of that cage, so I kept my eyes on her, so we could find her later.”

I blinked. That made sense.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Meg asked. “Let’s go.”

We took an elevator to the top floor. Luckily the Celedon had chosen a public building to perch on. I wouldn’t have wanted to explain to some secretary why four teens urgently needed to get to the roof of some private business building.

We found her standing on to rooftop, singing “New York, New York” to the enraptured crowd in Times Square. Her voice REALLY carried.

At least this song only compelled people to dance.

“So what’s the plan?” I whispered to my friends.

Percy gauged the situation. He whispered back, “We need to shut her up and trap her, this time in something that she CAN’T fly out of. Apollo, can you make a birdcage? Out of Celestial Bronze, preferably?” 

I nodded. I could see where this was going.

“You’re going to force her into bird form and then stuff her into the birdcage. How’re you planning to get her to change form?”

“Gag her, then wrestle her until she changes form, and stuff her into the cage.”

Simple plan. I respected that.

Percy turned to Grover. “You still have that blindfold from Pin-the-tail-on-the-human?”

Grover handed over a small strip of cloth.

Percy looked at Meg, “Ready?”

She nodded.

Meg and Percy reinserted their seeds and wax, respectively. They weren’t about to make the same mistake as last time.

They snuck up behind the oblivious Celedon just as she was belting out the final lyrics of ”New York, New York”.

Percy clamped the make-shift gag around her mouth as he and Meg wrestled with her.

I got to work making the birdcage, singing about strong, gilded cages. It manifested within seconds.

I looked over at the demigods. The Celedon was bucking and kicking, trying desperately to throw them off, but the two of them stubbornly clung onto her. 

She edged closer to the edge of the building and spun quickly, breaking Meg’s grip. 

Percy acted quickly, releasing his hold on the Celedon - and subsequently releasing the gag he’d been using to silence her - and dove quickly to Meg, catching her just as she started falling off the building.

I breathed a sigh of relief, my heart still hammering.

Then the Celedon began singing an ode to me.

Now you might be thinking, “Why would you mind her singing a song about how great you are, Apollo, and all of the awesome things you can do?”

The answer to that, dear reader, is that I prefer when the song about my awesomeness DOESN’T SUMMON A FIERY INFERNO TO TRY TO SCORCH MY AWESOME SELF OUT OF EXISTENCE.

I dove for cover, dropping the lyre in my haste. I quickly picked it up again, strumming a tune about raindrops, rain, and storms. Stormclouds quickly gathered and let loose, putting out the fire.

Then Percy rammed into the Celedon like a freight train.

Oh yeah. Son of Poseidon. Well this just became very one-sided.

Percy held onto her with a vice-like grip. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t shake him. She opened her mouth in an attempt to sing, but Percy just shoved water in her mouth, gagging her. Thankfully she didn’t actually NEED to breathe, so he didn’t have to worry about choking her.

As a last ditch effort to escape, she turned into a bird and attempted to fly away before Percy could adjust his grip. Since Percy had been TRYING to get her into bird form, this didn’t happen. He captured the bird-Celedon in a water bubble and threw her into my Celestial Bronze birdcage. It clicked shut, locking the squacking Celedon in.

Percy picked up the birdcage, carrying it over to me and Grover. Meg walked over to me, scowling, her hair and dress completely soaked from the rainstorm I’d summoned. Belatedly I realized I was also completely drenched, and that Grover smelled badly of Wet Goat. 

Looking at the three of us (Percy was completely dry and looked like he could run three marathons in a row. Cheater.) I asked, “So… what size clothes do you two wear?”

We walked out of the building wearing (in my opinion) incredibly stylish new outfits, courtesy of my magical lyre. Well, except for Percy. He’d declined for some reason. His loss.

I admired my sparkly golden tight pants and white shirt festooned with rhinestones and glitter. It felt good to be able to strut around for once. Maybe I didn’t have my usual good looks, but I could still pull off the glitz and glam!

Meg and Grover, sadly, had opted for far less extravagant outfits. I pouted a bit - I was sure I could make them outfits that would make them look FABULOUS - but complied. I summoned a simple tie-dye t-shirt for Grover, and a plain black shirt and denim jeans for Meg. Apparently they were really paranoid about me going overboard after seeing what I’d made for myself.

Meg carefully tucked her sopping green dress away. I smiled a little. She cared for that dress, that present, so much. It’d gotten burned, covered with mud, and torn again and again, but she insisted on mending it each time.

Together the four of us (plus one feathery Celedon) entered the subway again.

Chapter Text

Percy’s POV

We caught the subway to the Empire State Building.

I know, I know. We could’ve just walked, it wasn’t THAT far. But none of us felt like hauling an upset metal bird around farther than we had to. Plus, while I felt great (that rain did wonders for my energy), and Grover and Meg looked reasonably energetic, Apollo was BEAT. He’d been so excited about the new clothes he’d crafted… and had crashed a few minutes later. I’d thought I’d have to carry him to the subway, which would’ve been hard since I was already carrying the birdcage. I guess summoning all those things took a lot out of him.

Some other passengers looked at us disapprovingly as we hauled our bird cage around. I guess they didn’t like how rough we were being with our ‘pet’, but after what the Celedon had put us through, I REALLY didn’t care.

Apollo collapsed on a nearby seat, breathing hard. He didn’t look sleepy at least, just exhausted.

Was all of this tiredness just from playing the lyre?

Then again, I didn’t know what he’d been doing BEFORE he materialized in the park…

Now seemed as good a time as any to find out.

“Hey Apollo?”

He looked up at me wearily. “Yeah?”

“How DID you wind up time traveling anyways?”

He let out a long sigh. “Meg and I were looking through Tarquin’s Tomb-”

“Who’s Tarquin?”

“The last Roman Emperor. He was SO bad, he was overthrown and the Roman Republic was instated.”

Apollo continued, “Anyways, we were looking through his tomb for the Sibylline books, which contain a lot of ancient prophecies. I always thought they’d been burned, but apparently not. At least, not all of them. We didn’t really know where to look, so Meg and I just kinda wandered around trying not to die.”

I nodded sagely. “Always the best plan. Dying sucks. No blue food in Elysium.”

Ok, so I didn’t actually know whether that last one was true. But considering how happy the dead were with simple Happy Meals, I figured that they didn’t have very good food down there.

Apollo laughed, a bit more life returning to his face. I grinned back at him. Was this really the same person who’d proclaimed that heroes were for running the god’s errands? He just seemed like another kid, like another demigod, fighting beside us and trying not to let anyone he cared about die, or die himself.

I still didn’t get how a god could change so drastically, but maybe… maybe they really weren’t that different?

This kind, dorky teen… maybe this side of Apollo was hidden away in the present Apollo too.

I hoped so.

Apollo chuckled, “Well, I don’t know about THAT, but I agree about dying. Pretty sure my sister would charge into the Underworld herself, drag me back, then kill me again for dying on her.”

Yes, that did sound like Artemis.

“ANYWAY, getting back on track here, we searched the tomb for awhile with no success.”

“Unless you call ‘getting chased by your nose moss’ a success,” Meg cut in.

“Eurynomos,” Apollo corrected.

“Whatever.”

“So I asked my magic prophetic arrow where I needed to go-”

I knew I shouldn’t interrupt, but I HAD to ask. “Magic prophetic arrow?”

“The Arrow of Dodona. It talks in a fake Shakespearean accent and insults me constantly. It’s quite annoying. Plus I’m the only one who can hear it, so I look like a crazy person when I consult it.”

Well, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of. Heck, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of TODAY.

“The arrow told me to go to a particular room and find a cloth woven from Fate’s threads. We searched around for awhile and found it tucked away in a chest. Then SOMEONE-” Apollo glared at Meg, who looked back, completely unperturbed, “-thought it was a brilliant idea to grab hold of something woven by the Fates themselves. I grabbed onto Meg, we vanished, then fell onto the ground with a bad case of motion sickness. And, well, you know the rest.”

I frowned. “Do you know how to get back to your time? WHETHER you can get back?”

Apollo closed his eyes, his brows furrowing. “I- I hope we can get back. No, we MUST get back. Our friends need us! I have to believe that the Arrow set us on this path for a reason.”

“Wow, you have a lot of faith in that Arrow,” I observed.

Apollo laughed wryly. “Nope. But if I allow myself to believe that we’ll never get home and that all our friends and family will die, I’m going to panic.”

Oh. Fair enough.

I decided to change subjects.

“So anything you can tell me about what’s gonna happen? Anything that will help?”

Apollo was quiet for a moment, thinking. Finally he spoke.

“First of all, you should know that I’m only from two years into the future. It’s going to be a BUSY two years. And I don’t remember that much. I wasn’t paying much attention to the world around me all of the time. Also, shoving four thousand years of memories into a mortal brain REALLY doesn’t work well. I’ve forgotten a lot, and what I DO remember isn’t always useful. But I’ll try to help.”

“Typhon was freed, and we gods left to fight him - well most of us, anyway. We didn’t succeed against him until Poseidon joined the fight.”

Apollo looked at me thoughtfully. “I believe that you were the one to convince him to intervene. I don’t remember how you persuaded him, unfortunately.”

He continued while I mulled that over, “Typhon was a distraction. While he kept us gods busy, you demigods defended Mount Olympus from Kronos’s forces.” 

He frowned, looking at me, “I don’t remember a lot of details, but I remember this much: the fight started a few days before your birthday, and ended ON your birthday. You’re the child who reached sixteen, but NOT the Hero of the Prophecy. LUKE was the hero. He chose to save Olympus at the last second.”

Wait, what? “Uh, Apollo, you realize that I’ve never actually heard the full prophecy, right?”

He blinked.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You should probably learn it then. If I remember right, it goes:

A half-blood of the Eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen, against all odds.

And see the world in endless sleep.

Hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.

A single choice shall end his days,

Olympus to preserve or raze.

Well that didn’t sound great. Then again, prophecies rarely did. 

I pressed Apollo for details, wanting every bit of foreknowledge I could get. “What choice did Luke make? What endless sleep? What’s the cursed blade?”

Apollo shook his head. “I’m sorry Percy. I don’t remember.”

Looking at his mournful face, I believed him.

“So what else CAN you tell me?”

He hesitated for a moment. Carefully, he asked, “Percy? Do you remember how I mentioned Thalia’s brother?”

I nodded. How could I forget?

“Well, the reason he and Thalia were separated, the reason she was led to believe he was dead… is because he’s ROMAN, not Greek.”

What?

The confusion must have been clear on my face. Apollo elaborated, “We gods change to fit the culture we’re in. The longer and deeper the impact of that culture on us and the more different that image is, the more we differ. For most of us gods we default to Greek as our sort of ‘base’ form, but we have Roman forms as well who can look act differently. We sometimes have kids while we’re in Roman form. Those kids don’t go to Camp Half-Blood. Instead they travel to the Wolf House, where Lupa decides whether they’re strong enough to train. If she accepts them, then she’ll train them off and send them towards Camp Jupiter. If not… well… let’s just say that Lupa isn’t kind to the weak. And she doesn’t mind the taste of demigod flesh.”

I felt slightly ill. “How many does she… erm… usually fail?”

Apollo thought for a moment. “You know, I can’t actually remember her failing anyone in recent decades. I wasn’t paying much attention to Camp Jupiter though, so I can’t say for sure.”

Well that was comforting.

“Anyway, Hera was FURIOUS when Jason was born. Bad enough Zeus cheated on her with that mortal, but to then go back a few years later and have ANOTHER child with the same woman? He went too far. Jupiter, Zeus’s Roman form, gave Hera - or rather Juno - Jason’s life, even naming him after her favorite mortal as an attempt to appease her. Because naming one of his kids in her honor went SO WELL with Heracles. Luckily she took a liking to Jason. By ‘taking a liking’ I mean that she told his mother to hand him over to the wolves when he was two years old. Both she and Thalia assumed the wolves had killed him. No one corrected them. Greek and Roman demigods were supposed to be kept separate.

“But why?” I asked. “Wouldn’t we be stronger together?”

He tilted his head towards me, giving me a small smile. “Indeed you would be - if you could stop fighting.”

I frowned. “Why would we fight each other?”

“Greeks and Romans have a long-standing grudge against each other,” Apollo explained. “It didn’t help that some gods and goddesses did NOT take the Greek-to-Roman transition well. Most notably Athena.”

Annabeth’s mom?

I leaned forwards slightly. Annabeth would DEFINITELY want to know about this, if she didn’t already. “What happened to Athena?”

“The Romans stripped her of her status as a war goddess, reduced her to a goddess of crafts and wisdom, and stole her most sacred statue. They tried to break Greece’s spirit by stealing the Athena Parthenos. They succeeded, but they made a powerful enemy. Athena has NEVER forgiven the Romans for disrespecting her like that. She’s pushed the two sides to fight ever since, hoping that the Greeks would crush the Romans. There’s already a natural animosity between the two sides, it doesn’t take much of a push to get them fighting. After the Civil War, which had Greeks and Romans fighting and killing each other, we gods decided to interfere to stop our children from murdering each other. Athena disapproved of course, but she was outvoted. We increased the level of Mist around your groups, erasing all memories of the others existence from your minds. We kept an eye on any quests where you guy were likely to pass close by, increasing the Mist whenever you almost stumbled across each other. It worked! … For a while.”

“What changed?”

Apollo grimaced. “Great-grandma started waking up.”

“Who?”

Apollo shook his head. “I don’t want to say her name. Best not to attract her attention. Ask Annabeth. She should know.”

I filed that info away for later. “What’s so terrible about your great-grandmother waking up?”

“She wants to destroy all of humanity and all the Olympian gods. She actually had some kids, the Giants, who she made for the sole purpose of destroying each of the Olympians.”

“She had kids JUST to use as an army?”

“Yep.”

“That’s messed up.”

“I’m not going to disagree with that.”

“Anything special about these Giants? Are they just like the Titans, but bigger?”

Apollo looked pained and… guilty? “It’s worse than that. The Giants can’t be defeated by a mortal or a god working alone. They can only be killed by a god and a mortal working together.”

My heart sank. “So the gods obviously teamed up with all of us demigods and helped us send them packing, right?”

“Well…” Apollo rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed and ashamed. “You see… Father thought that maybe if we gods holed up and didn’t interact with the mortal world, that great-grandma might settle down. She didn’t.”

“Gods disobey Z- your father all the time, though! They helped, right?”

“I… guess so?”

“You guess?”

“I was kinda hiding for most of the war, so I was out of the loop.”

I frowned. “Why were you hiding? Shouldn’t you have been helping fight the Giants?”

Now he REALLY looked ashamed. “I… may have had a role in making things more difficult. Unintentionally, of course.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. After a moment, he did. “One of the Campers at Camp Jupiter was a descendant of mine named Octavian. He told me that he’d make Rome strong, like it was back in the old days. That he’d make sure I was honored as one of the most important gods, above even Zeus! I liked the sound of that. I gave him my blessing. I ignored his hatred of the Greeks and his growing instability. He told me what I wanted to hear, so I ignored the warning signs.”

Apollo avoided my eyes, but kept on talking. “When Camp Half-Blood sent an envoy to Camp Jupiter, it looked like things would go well… at first. Then an Eidolon, a spirit, possessed one of the Greek demigods and forced him to fire on the Camp. The Romans assumed that the diplomatic envoy was a trick and promptly declared war on the Greeks. Luckily they didn’t know exactly where Camp Half-blood was. All of the Seven had to get out of there in a hurry.”

I frowned. “The Seven?”

Apollo blinked. “Oh yeah. You guys don’t have that prophecy yet. It went like this:

Seven half-bloods shall answer the call,

To storm or fire, the world must fall,

An oath to keep with a final breath,

And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death

“The ‘world falling’ sounds pretty bad,” I observed.

Apollo rolled his eyes. “It’s not, actually. This is one of those cases where the prophecy is PURPOSELY deceptive. ‘The world’ is great-grandma, it’s foretelling her defeat. As for the Seven, they are you, Annabeth Chase, Piper McLean, Leo Valdez, Frank Zhang, Hazel Lavesque, and Jason Grace. Frank, Hazel, and Jason are Roman.”

I wasn’t thrilled about being part of ANOTHER prophecy, but at least I’d survive past sixteen. 

Apollo continued his story. “We gods are reflections of the culture we come from. When our two groups of children started fighting, the Greek and Roman sides of ourselves started fighting too. Gave most of us SPLITTING headaches, incapacitating us. Well, except for those of us who were either exclusively Greek or Roman, or who were pretty much the same in both forms. So most of us couldn’t help even if we wanted to. But I had an additional problem.”

Apollo stared at his feet. “One of the Praetors, Reyna, was pretty reasonable. She tried to rein in the Legion. But then she had to leave, and OCTAVIAN took control of the Legion. He took my blessing as a sign that whatever he had planned had my full support. He thought that the best way to ‘solve’ the gods’ headache problem and ‘save’ New Rome, was to wipe out the Greeks entirely. Father blamed me for Octavian’s poor decision, and decided to blame me for basically the entire war.”

He smiled bitterly. “I think he just wanted to scapegoat someone, pin the blame on anyone who wasn’t him. Him sticking his head in the sand had made things way more difficult than they needed to be, and he didn’t want to look weak or stupid. Not after the embarrassment of the Second Titan War. He was SO angry with me. But he couldn’t harm me on Delos, mine and Artemis’s birthplace. Being on Delos also protected Artemis and I from the incapacitating headaches. We sat out the whole war there, until the Greeks and Romans made up. That united us gods’ essences, allowing us to FINALLY recover enough to fight back. All of us gods rushed in to fight off the Giants with you Seven, defeating them easily. Then Father called me forwards, blamed me for the war, and sent me to Olympus. I can’t remember anything else until six months later, when I awoke, mortal, hurtling out of the sky, and landed in a dumpster.”

I winced. Sounded like gods weren’t necessarily any more caring towards their divine children than their demigod ones. 

Apollo’s voice cracked, self-loathing seeping in. “I discovered just how BLIND we gods had been! Some Roman Emperors managed to make themselves immortal. They’ve been plotting their takeover for MILLENNIA. They helped fund Kronos’s army and Octavian’s attack on Camp Half-blood. They’ve been kidnapping young demigods and raising them to serve in their army.”

The subway started to slow down. “What do I need to know?” I asked hurriedly. I had a nagging sensation that I wouldn’t get to talk to Apollo much longer after this.

Evidently Apollo felt the same way, as he spoke hurriedly while the four of us (plus the bird) departed the subway and headed towards our rendevous with the current Apollo.

“If campers start to go missing a few months after the Second Giant War ends, it’s probably due to the Grove of Dodona regrowing itself in Camp Half-blood and calling for help. Nero tries to burn the grove and attacks Camp Half-Blood with the Colossus Nero. The Cave of Trophonious is in Indianapolis. Georgina was being held prisoner by Commodus. If that happens in this timeline as well, you’ll need to break into Commodus’s palace to rescue her. She also might be my daughter, not sure on that one. And- and then there’s-”

His voice cracked, ”There’s Caligula. His forces attacked Camp Jupiter shortly after I consulted Trophonious. Leo flew away to warn them. Meanwhile, Meg, Grover, and I left to rescue Herophile, another one of my Oracles, who Caligula had locked up. But we needed to retrieve his sandals in order to navigate the Labyrinth - that’s where she was being kept, yes it came back, no, I don’t know how. That’s when everything went wrong.”

A small sob escaped Apollo’s throat. “Jason, he- he’d gotten a prophecy MONTHS ago, saying that we’d only succeed if he and Piper came with Meg and I on our quest, but that either he or Piper would die. He decided right then that it WOULDN’T be Piper. He fought off Caligula long enough for us to get away, but died in the process. Crest - he’s a Pandos - he helped us get away. He helped us the next day too. He held off Medea, stopped her from destroying me, at the cost of his own life. We would’ve been finished if not for-”

Apollo startled, wide-eyed. “The Silver Wives! The Meliai! If we had just waited until they’d woken up, Crest would still be alive!”

He grabbed me urgently. “Percy. There are several special seeds that Meg’s family had been working on for MILLENNIA. They’re at her childhood home, Aeithales. Meg MUST be the one to plant them. Only she can make them grow. Wait to attack until those dryads are awake if possible. They’ll be invaluable.”

I nodded. “I will.”

Apollo let out a breath of relief and let go. 

The four of us rounded the corner. I saw the god Apollo pacing around by the Empire State Building, waiting for us. And beside him…

Mortal Apollo stood still for a moment, slack-jawed. Then he came to his senses and surged towards the second figure desperately, the three of us following in his wake.

Chapter Text

God!Apollo’s POV

NO

NO NO NO

NO NO NO NO NO

NO

This was NOT possible.

What I felt - what I’d sensed - it HAD to be wrong.

There was no other option.

But you know you aren’t wrong.

Shut up, I told myself. I have to be wrong. I HAVE to be. Because otherwise… otherwise...

Otherwise you get turned mortal again, but this time trapped in THAT awful body, with acne and flab?

Yes! It’s horrible and awful! I had flab. FLAB!!! I always have at least a six-pack. ALWAYS.

That’s not what you’re most upset about. That’s not why you’ve been pacing and muttering to yourself for the last hour.

SHUT. UP. ME.

What you saw - what we saw - when we looked at him.

SHUT UP

The memory came back to me. I tried desperately to stop it, but since when did my memory listen to what I wanted?

I’d been annoyed at that demigod girl calling me stupid. Seriously, no respect!

I’d been about to scare her - maybe just a little incineration, just a really bad sunburn really - when that boy had hurled himself to his feet, planting himself between me and the girl.

The way he was GLARING at me… 

I KNEW I was a god. I knew he couldn’t harm me. I knew that I could destroy him so thoroughly that not even a body remained.

It didn’t matter.

When he glared at me with those eyes, with that expression on his face, I froze.

I’d feebly tried to protest that he was wrong. That he wasn’t me.

But that look…

I’d worn it before.

When I’d found out that Zeus had murdered Asclepius.

That… that was my protective, angry look.

And - and betrayal. 

When someone who should have been on my side - when someone who should have been helping me - was the cause of the harm in the first place.

The dam broke.

I couldn’t fool myself any longer.

The reason I’d walking around muttering, trapped in my own thoughts, WASN’T because I’d apparently be trapped in a hideous - AVERAGE - meat sack in the future, though it didn’t HELP…

The reason I was so distressed… was because my FATHER had been responsible.

Oh yes. I knew it was Father. That was his *favorite* punishment for me, after all. Plus, I could feel that master-slave enchantment on the boy - on my future self. I knew Father’s handiwork.

At least Meg seemed to be a tolerable master. My future self wouldn’t have been so protective of her otherwise. That spell forced actions, not emotions.

Remember what you screamed to yourself-

NOPE

I was NOT doing that.

Not by myself.

I needed…

Before I consciously knew what I was doing, I was already on my way.

She’d been close by.

Thankfully she hadn’t gone far since I last saw her.

I materialized in my sister’s camp.

Artemis’s POV

I was helping teach a new recruit how to shoot when I felt him.

I sighed. Really? Shouldn’t he be off hunting some monsters? Or more likely, seducing some mortal somewhere. He’d visited only a few days ago, he usually waited longer between visits. 

Well… until I was kidnapped.

I shuddered a little. Thankfully, my newest Hunter didn’t notice.

I KNEW I would be rescued. Between my Hunters and my brother, there was no WAY I’d be abandoned.

But the price for my rescue…

I fought the urge to look at the sky. It was silly. It was still daytime, it’s not like the stars would be visible.

Yet I could feel the Huntress - could feel Zoe - glaring at me.

Which is how I knew it was DEFINITELY in my head. Zoe would never blame me for her death. 

But I blamed me.

And my newest Hunter too - Bianca - I’d never gotten a chance to know her. Not really.

I hoped that Elysium was treating her well.

I- I should have been able to save them. I was a goddess!

But I knew, more than most other gods, how little that meant. 

How close we were to mortals.

I’d always surrounded myself with my Hunters, with my girls. 

They were immortal, to an extent. They would never die of old age. As for illnesses, well, sometimes it came in handy to be the twin of the god of healing. Yet they were still mortal enough to retain a mortal perspective, to be connected to the world and the people in it, instead of growing conceited and distant. 

It was one reason why I didn’t much enjoy most other immortals’ company. Few of them considered mortals to be valuable, and fewer still thought of them as actual people unless they were either romantically attracted to them or were related to them. Even deities who used to BE mortal, such as Dionysus or even one of my own followers, Britomartis, considered mortals to be equal to gods in any way. 

Apollo was better than most in that regard… but that wasn’t saying much. He rarely considered others’ feelings, and he happily used mortals deaths as entertainment. He’d rarely outright harm others at least, and would even help demigods without much fuss. He just… might not stop others from harming others either.

The sunlight increased in intensity, breaking me out of my reverie.

I turned to my newest recruit. “That would be my brother. I’ll talk to him, see what he wants. In the meantime, I recommend asking one of the other Hunters for help practicing.”

The girl nodded and headed off to rejoin the others.

I turned around. “Brother, what is this about?”

He smiled at me widely. “Can’t I just visit my favorite sister?”

I raised an eyebrow. Maybe he could fool his various lovers with that smile. But he couldn’t fool me. I knew him too well. That was his I’m-covering-up-my-feelings smile. 

I poked at our bond. We could shield our emotions from each other if we wanted to. The fact that he hadn’t tried to and had deliberately sought me out meant that he needed my help. Or at least a shoulder to cry on.

I concentrated. I expected to find heartbreak from a lover breaking up with him, or perhaps grief from one of his kids dying. 

Instead I got… confusion? A bit of panic? Betrayal? And something deeply repressed, roiling beneath the surface.

I frowned. What on Earth had happened?

“Apollo.” I looked him in the eyes. “Tell me what happened.”

He let his mask fall, just a little. A flicker of fear crossed his face. “Sister? Can we speak privately? Please?”

I studied his face. I was reluctant to leave my Hunters, but…

“Alright. Just let me tell Thalia, and you can tell me what’s going on.”

I made arrangements with my Lieutenant, telling her that I needed to speak with Apollo about something, but that I expected to be back later that day.

I walked back to my brother. He fidgeted slightly.

“So, Delos?” I proposed. No other god could harm or spy on us there. Not even Zeus. 

He nodded mutely. 

We turned into glitter, spiriting ourselves back to our birthplace.

We rematerialized a few minutes later. Normally it would take longer to travel halfway around the world, but we had a special connection with Delos. It never took long to travel there.

I grimaced. Getting BACK would take considerably longer. I hoped he had a good reason for insisting on the privacy. I hated leaving my girls so vulnerable. They could take care of themselves, but still I worried.

I turned to my brother. He took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself for what he was about to say. “Look, I know this sounds crazy-”

My heart sank. Either someone (probably Hermes) had pranked Apollo and unwittingly dragged me into it (in which case, that someone was going to be turned into a pincushion) or something really crazy HAD happened. Crazy was rarely good.

“-but my future self was turned mortal again and assigned a young girl as his master. The two of them dropped out of thin air right in front of me!”

I stared at my brother. Looks like the ‘prank’ option was correct. My newest Hunter would be getting live target practice earlier than expected it seemed.

“He had flab, Artemis! FLAB! And ACNE!”

I sighed, shooting Apollo an annoyed look.

“You’re being pranked, brother.”

“Look, I KNOW how insane this sounds-”

“Very insane.”

“I thought so too! But… but…”

His fists clenched. “He- he had this look on his face. And- and he said something. Something that’s stuck in my head. I just- I KNOW how insane, how impossible this sounds. But I think it’s real.”

I looked at my brother. His bowed head, the hurt on his face, the hint of guilt. Whatever this apparition said, it had cut Apollo to the core.

Maybe this was a prank. But its effect on my brother was very, very real.

“What did he say?”

Apollo took a shaky breath. “His young companion had just insulted me. I was angry. I glowed. I wasn’t going to kill her, just you know - singe her a little.”

I glared at him. He put up his hands. “Look, I know it was wrong and a bad idea. I got yelled at about it. That’s what I was talking about. My mortal self leapt to his feet and screamed at me. What he said…”

Apollo closed his eyes and started quoting, “Do not harm her.  Don’t you dare harm ANY of them.  LOOK AT ME!  REALLY LOOK AT ME, DON’T JUST STARE THROUGH ME LIKE WE ALWAYS DID, DON’T PRETEND PEOPLE FEEL THE WAY THAT’S CONVENIENT FOR US, FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, TRY TO UNDERSTAND! “

What?

I stared at my twin. At his trembling hands, the barely repressed tears.

Those words hit him hard.

There was truth in them.

And he knew it.

Was this what I’d felt him repressing?

I still didn’t believe that my brother had REALLY met his future self. Something like that had never happened before.

But still…

What he’d heard…

And his reaction…

The only person I could think of who could target his repressed feelings, emotions hidden so deeply that even Apollo didn’t fully realize their depth…

Was himself.

“What happened to this ‘future self’ of yours?”

Apollo looked at me hopefully. “Do you believe me now?”

I hummed. “I never thought you were lying. You wouldn’t do that. I still think someone might be tricking you. Even if they are though, your distress is very real. I want to see them for myself. See what they meant by those words.”

Apollo face lit up - literally. I smiled at the soft glow. “You’d come and see? Really?!”

Did he really think I wouldn’t? “Yes, of course. Where can we meet these supposed time travelers?”

He coughed, looking a little sheepish. “Well you see, they interrupted me as I was sending Percy and his satyr friend to retrieve this rogue Celedon of mine. I was busy freaking out about all of this, but I THINK they left to capture the Celedon together.”

I shot him a disapproving look. “Brother, a rogue Celedon could cause a lot of damage to mortals. She’s your responsibility, you should have retrieved her yourself.”

“Hey, I was busy!”

I looked at him.

“I had to practice for a concert!”

“And that’s more important than stopping one of YOUR backup singers from causing chaos?”

“Yes!”

I sighed, but dropped the subject. At least he’d chosen people he’d KNOWN were up to the task.

“So when and where do we go?”

“Empire State Building. I told them they had to be back by sunset so I could get to my concert on time.”

Made sense.

I stood up and looked at the sun, calculating how far along and adjusting for the time difference. “Looks like we have about an hour before the sun sets in New York. Just enough time to get back. You ready to go?”

He grinned. “Of course!”

We turned into silver and gold glitter, shooting towards New York City.

Chapter Text

Lester/Mortal Apollo’s POV

SHE WAS HERE.

My memory loss had taken SO MUCH from me - my memory of Mother’s face, my first meeting with Hermes, even my birth was lost to me now. But worst of all was forgetting my sister.

I’d been forgetting more and more. After being flayed - after having my essence disrupted and torn apart, ready to be consumed - many more of my memories had left me. While I had once only occasionally, momentarily forgot my sister’s face, I couldn’t remember it at all now. Sometimes... sometimes I even forgot her name.

That was bad. 

Forgetting that I HAD a twin was worse.

I’d woken up like on any other day in Camp Jupiter. Got up, got dressed, ate breakfast, trained (I’d long since abandoned the notion that since I couldn’t be divinely excellent at something, it wasn’t worth trying to improve), and washed up. Over the course of the day I’d had a weird nagging sensation. I knew SOMETHING was wrong, but couldn’t think of what.

I met with Reyna to discuss the plans for the new temples that Jason had entrusted me with.

I’d been idly looking at his diorama as Reyna talked about what order and what materials to build the temples with, when she asked me something.

“Hey, Apollo? What do you think of this design for Diana’s shrine? I know Jason did his best and most of his designs are pretty good, but you’d be a better judge of what she’d like.”

I startled slightly, the nagging sensation growing until it practically pounded against my skull. Did I get a baby god stuck in there somehow? Oh gods, I hoped not. Cracking open my skull would NOT turn out well right now.

“-pollo. APOLLO!”

Reyna was in my face, yelling. I focused on her, bringing myself back to reality.

“Y-yes?” I asked.

Reyna looked concerned. “I asked you about Diana and your face contorted. It looked like you were in pain and you stopped responding. Are you alright?”

I grimaced when she said ‘Diana’ again. I should know who that is, shouldn’t I?

My expression was enough of an answer for Reyna. She leaned forwards, “Apollo, you can tell me whatever’s wrong, okay? I’m your friend. And I KNOW about hiding things, about needing to seem strong and invulnerable. But you don’t have to put up a front with me.”

I hesitated. I hated worrying my friends. I still hadn’t told Meg, or anyone else for that matter, just how bad the memory loss had gotten. It’s not like they could do anything about it and they had enough on their plates already. But I really, REALLY needed to talk to someone.

I caved.

“I- I don’t remember who Diana is. I did know, I SHOULD know, but I- I don’t remember. I sh-should know who she is. I- I- I- NEED to know who she is!”

I didn’t know why I was yelling, or why tears had welled up in my eyes.

Reyna looked horrified. “You’ve lost- you’ve forgotten - that much?” she rasped.

“Apollo... Diana’s your twin sister.”

It all came crashing back.

My sister - my twin - one of the people most dear to me - 

I’d forgotten she even existed.

I broke down in Reyna’s arms. I didn’t remember much of the next few minutes, just Reyna hugging me close, stroking my hair, telling me that everything would be alright.

But it WASN’T alright. How could it be?

I started keeping a small diary after that. I wrote down everything I could remember, everything that was too precious to lose. I’d already lost so much. 

The first sentences: Artemis is your twin sister. Leto is your wonderful mother. Never forget.

I left off Zeus. I didn’t mind forgetting that he was my father for a little while. Sadly that fact seemed to be ingrained in my brain.

But now I needed no reminders. 

Artemis, my sister, my twin, was only a few hundred feet away.

I sprinted towards her, exhaustion forgotten.

She looked up at me, no doubt trying to figure out why some random (though fabulously dressed) sixteen-year-old boy was charging at her like the Cretan Bull. Her brow furrowed slightly and she pursed her lips, studying me closely.

I could tell the moment that she checked for my essence. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping open.

Then I barreled into her like a freight train.

A normal twelve-year-old girl would’ve been sent skidding across the sidewalk. Since my sister was NOT a normal twelve-year-old girl, she stayed rooted to the ground. I, however, had just done the equivalent of running full tilt into a slightly squishy lightpole.

The impact of my very movable self into my immovable sister was NOT pretty.

“OOF!”

 I fell backwards, the wind knocked out of me. 

“APOLLO!”

Artemis pulled me to my feet, looking me over worriedly. I concentrated on staying upright.

“What- how- why-” she babbled, eyes wide in shock. 

I pulled her into a hug. “I- I missed you. I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered hoarsely, tears running down my cheeks.

“Brother...” she murmured. She returned my embrace. 

I felt her send a soothing pulse of her power over my body, checking for injuries. I smiled for a moment. I had taught her how to do that. Tough to heal injuries if you don’t know what the injuries are. Most deities don’t need to know much first aid. Most deities don’t fight alongside a pack of badass, eternally young, and most importantly, KILLABLE maidens. My sister may not have been a healer god, but she was no slouch at it either.

I relaxed into her familiar presence... then my mind helpfully reminded me that I HAD had a grievous injury only a few weeks ago. An injury so terrible that it had left a permanent scar on my chest. A scar that the scanning spell would have uncovered.

Artemis let out a strangled gasp. “Apollo...” she forced out. “What... what happened to you?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Artemis’s POV

Apollo and I arrived at the Empire State Building shortly before sunset. I wove a compulsion into the Mist, ensuring that no ordinary mortals would be able to see us or approach us. I didn’t want them to be caught up in whatever this was.

 I reached out with my divine senses, trying to detect any godly presence. I had no doubt that my brother would also have checked for interference, but as the Goddess of the Hunt, I had far more experience in detecting elusive adversaries. I might have found something that he’d missed.

But there was nothing.

I frowned. Maybe whoever’d pranked Apollo had figured out that he’d gone to see me and had (quite sensibly) decided to cut their losses and flee? I had a bit of a reputation. Few gods messed with me or my followers. Those that DID soon learned better.

That would make sense, but... something about it didn’t sit right with me. I had a nagging feeling that there was more to this than that.

When you hunt dangerous monsters for millennia, you learn to trust your instincts. 

It happened a few minutes after we’d arrived. Apollo’d taken to pacing around (he HATES staying still. I should know. I had to share a womb with him) while I stayed perfectly still, keeping careful track of my surroundings.

Honestly I needn’t have bothered. If there was one thing Apollo WASN’T, it was subtle.

The glimmer of a rhinestone caught my eyes. Then the REST of the outfit caught my eye.

Well whoever or whatever this person was, they sure had Apollo’s fashion sense down.  Sparkly, golden, and impossible to ignore.

As sparkly boy charged at me, I reached out my essence slightly, examining him as closely as I could.

I felt Him.

My jaw dropped open. No WONDER Apollo had been so certain. I knew of no force in Heaven or Earth that could fake the feeling of my brother’s essence to this degree. 

As impossible as it seemed, this boy was...

And then he hit me.

“OOF!” 

“APOLLO!” I cried, wincing.

I should probably have tried to cushion his impact, but I was in shock and wasn’t really thinking of the consequences of an apparently mortal Apollo attempting to tackle me. Every other time Apollo’d tried to run me over we’d both been gods, so we’d been on more even footing. Plus that kind of impact wouldn’t even faze a god.

Wait.

He WASN’T A GOD.

He could get hurt EASILY.

I pulled my brother to his feet.

“How- what- why-” I babbled, unable to properly phrase any of my questions. How did this happen? What are you doing here? Why would Zeus do this to you?

Apollo - this was my brother, but HOW - pulled me into a hug. “ I- I missed you. I’ve missed you so much,” he murmured brokenly. I felt the wetness of his tears on my shoulders. “Brother,” I murmured back, wrapping my arms around him.

This- this was beyond Apollo simply not being allowed to see me for a year or so. Sure, the last two times he was banished we weren’t allowed to communicate and it sucked, but he’d never reacted like THIS. There must be something more to it for Apollo to sound so relieved, like he’d thought he’d never see me again.

My blood chilled. Apollo had been turned mortal before, which meant he COULD die, but he hadn’t been placed in dangerous circumstances the last two times this had happened, so he’d never really had to confront what being mortal MEANT.

But this time was different. Even from my quick scan of his core, I could tell that Apollo had barely any godly essence inside that mortal body, less even than most Legacies. His mortal form didn’t look like anything Apollo would choose for himself if he could help it, meaning Zeus probably forced it on him.

All of which led me to wonder; what else was different? How much more vulnerable was my little brother this time?

I pulsed my power through my brother, checking for injuries, both any new ones from colliding with me and fighting the Celedon and any old ones that hadn’t completely healed.

What I found shocked me.

The Celedon didn’t appear to have hurt him at all, and his collision with me didn’t do much more than knock the breath out of him.

But the older injury I sensed more than made up for his lack of current pains.

This- this must have nearly killed him. I nearly choked on my own gasp. At last I was able to form words. “Apollo... what... what HAPPENED to you?”

My brother - my little brother, my baby brother, Zeus, how could you DO this - winced and looked down, refusing to meet my eyes. 

“Apollo,” I said firmly, “tell me why there’s scarring from a puncture wound in your abdomen that just BARELY missed your internal organs.” 

Whoever did this to my brother would PAY.

“It’s- it’s my fault,” he mumbled. “Caligula captured Meg, Piper, Jason, and myself. He- he was gloating and threatening them. He would have killed them. But - Caligula - he needed me alive. At least right then.”

Apollo raised his face to look at me. I wasn’t surprised to see the tears in his eyes. I had a feeling that there would be a lot more crying from both of us before the evening was over. 

Apollo gave a short, wry bark of a laugh, “You know, Caligula’s goal hasn’t changed from the old days. He still wanted to make himself a god, a MAJOR god. He wanted to be the new Apollo.”

I could think of a few ways Caligula could do that. NONE of them ended well for my little brother. 

“How...?” I asked, unsure whether I wanted to know the answer.

“He allied himself with Medea. She called back Helios’s essence from his rest, bit by bit. Then she turned her sights on me.”

He took in a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady his nerves. I tried to keep outwardly calm. Freaking out now wouldn’t do much good. I needed to hold it together long enough to find out who had hurt my brother. THEN I could lose it.

“Medea needed what little essence I have left. She planned to mix my essence with Helios’s and infuse it into Caligula, making him the new God of the Sun.”

WHAT. 

That... that would work. But what it would do to Apollo...

“How was she going to...?” I asked, CERTAIN that I didn’t want to know.

“She tried to flay me alive. She captured me in molten hot chains. Then she started chanting.”

My brother started openly sobbing, what little control he had slipping away. “Sh-She tried to rearrange me, t-take me apart. Destroy everything that made me, ME, until only my power remained. I- I wasn’t needed, wasn’t WANTED. I- I forgot who I was, why I was fighting.”

My baby brother clutched me tighter. I listened to his ragged breath, felt the beating of his heart, reassuring myself that yes, he DID survive. My little brother was still around.

“I- my memories - I - I forgot. I forgot SO MUCH sister!” he cried. “I couldn’t remember Mother’s face, or your face, or even my own NAME!”

My ichor froze. Names have power, ESPECIALLY for gods. For Apollo to forget his...

How close had he been to being lost forever?

And he WOULD have been lost forever, make no mistake on that. Kill a mortal and their soul still existed in the Underworld. Kill a monster and their essence went to Tartarus. Kill a Nature Spirit and their spirit would be reincarnated into a different piece of flora or fauna. Scatter a god’s essence and the possibility remained that they could reform one day. Even Fading didn’t completely destroy a monster or a god, as demonstrated my Medea’s ability to call back Helios’s essence, even if he was only a shadow of his former self.

But what Medea tried to do? Extracting the power from Apollo’s essence, ridding all traces of Apollo himself - of his personality, his memories, his desires, his SOUL - from them? There would have been nothing left of my twin. 

Oh, the essence of the sun god could’ve been reclaimed. But it wouldn’t have been Apollo, any more than a corpse was a loved one. It would only be the empty shell that had once held the most important person in my life.

“I- I w-was saved,” he choked out around his sobs, “I- I- regained some of my memories. But n-not all. I- I...!”

He trailed off mumbling.

I asked him softly, “You what?

“I- I- I forgot you, Artemis. I forgot you existed.”

WHAT.

The shock must have been evident on my face. Apollo’s expression crumpled. “I’m- I’m so sorry Artemis. I for-forgot you. I’m a horrible-”

“NO.”

Apollo choked on his words. It took me a moment to realize I’d spoken.

I didn’t regret it. This needed to be said.

“Apollo, you are NOT a horrible ANYTHING, least of all for something you have no control over. YES, I’m shocked and angry, but not at you. NEVER at you. At our Father, at Caligula, at Medea, yes. BUT NOT AT YOU.”

He collapsed into my arms completely. I conjured a thick, cushy rug beneath us and gently let him down until we were both sitting, his arms wrapped around my neck. We sat like this for several minutes as he cried, letting out all the fear, sadness, and guilt he’d been holding in for gods only knew so long. I stroked his hair, singing some of the lullabies that Mother had once sung for us.

After some time, Apollo calmed down, his tears running out. 

I didn’t want to ask this. I didn’t want to upset him again, but... I needed to know. And... I think Apollo needed to release all the emotions he’d been bottling up in order to function. 

“Apollo, that wound... was it from the flaying?” I asked, already knowing it wasn’t. That wound wasn’t magical, but physical.

He looked ready to break down crying again. I stroked his hair some more, hoping to calm him enough to finish his story.

He took in a deep, shuddering breath and let it out again. When he finally spoke it was with forced calmness. “No. It wasn’t. I did that to myself.”

My mind went blank. I must have heard wrong. That wound was nearly fatal. It WOULD have been fatal without swift medical attention. Did my brother try to...?

Apollo continued speaking while I had an internal meltdown. I think he was afraid that if he stopped, he’d never be able to start again. “When Caligula captured Meg, Jason, Piper, and myself, we were out of options. Piper had been beaten so badly she could barely move and Meg and Jason were being kept captive by venti. I was the only one who could do anything. The only leverage I had... was my own life.”

Of course. Medea couldn’t extract Apollo’s essence from a corpse, not in a way that would be useful. But... but he’d ACTUALLY stabbed himself, not just threatened it. Why...?

Apollo answered my unspoken question. “Caligula didn’t believe that I’d seriously try to kill myself if he didn’t let my friends go. Who would? Gods don’t DO the self-sacrificing thing. And... and I guess he was right. If I seriously, totally believed that I’d be killed when I stabbed myself, I don’t think I could’ve gone through with it. But I didn’t. I knew Medea would heal me. She needed me alive,  if only so she could extract my essence and annihilate my soul later. Medea had barely been able to put enough power into the venti to keep Meg and Jason confined. Healing me split her concentration enough that Jason was able to force his way out. B-but... but...!”

My baby brother started crying again. “But Jason... he was able to free Meg and hold off Caligula, but he- he died holding him off, so we could e-escape.”

He let out a sobbing laugh. “Jason... he’d received a prophecy MONTHS ago saying that it was too dangerous for he and Piper to go up against the Emperor alone, that they had to wait for Meg and I. But that if he and Piper sought out the Emperor, one of them would die. And he went with us anyway! He could have run away, refused to come with us. I had no power to compel him. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave the world to Caligula’s mercy. And he couldn’t let Piper die. He went with us KNOWING and ACCEPTING that he would die on that mission. Because the alternatives were unacceptable.”

My brother gave me a grief-stricken look. “He wasn’t the only one to willingly give up their life for someone else that week. There- there was this Pandos. Crest. Cute little guy. He- he just wanted some music lessons. To be a musician. That’s all. He betrayed Caligula, got Meg safely out of his reach in exchange for music lessons. He wanted ukulele lessons.”

Apollo laughed wryly, tears leaking out his eyes. “His hands were WAY too big for a ukulele, but he insisted on learning how to play it, because that’s what I played. He showed us a secret entrance into the Labyrinth, then insisted on standing guard over it. No one asked him to. None of us would have blamed him if he’d decided to just leave after showing us where the entrance was. He’d fulfilled his end of the bargain. We could ask nothing more of him. Yet- yet he stayed. When Medea came, he tried to hold her off. They broke his fingers, beat him up, chained him and dragged him across the Labyrinth, but he STILL refused to let go of that ukulele. If he’d let go... I wouldn’t be here anymore.”

“Remember when I said that I was saved from flaying? The only reason I was able to hold out that long was due to Grover and Crest disrupting Medea’s chanting. Crest especially. He played discordant chords, breaking Medea’s concentration. He could’ve run. He didn’t KNOW me. He was free. Medea had more important things to do than chase after a rogue Pandos. He didn’t owe me anything.”

“But he stayed, Artemis. He- he stayed. He kept on playing the ukulele. Medea warned him that she’d attack him if he plucked another note.”

He looked up at me pleadingly. What he was pleading for, I don’t think even HE knew. For comfort? Forgiveness for some perceived failure? “She stabbed him in the gut. But he kept on playing. His fingers were broken, his blood stained his fur red, but he DIDN’T. STOP.”

My brother clutched at me like a drowning man to the one thing keeping him afloat. “He didn’t stop, Artemis,” he muttered wildly. “He didn’t stop.”

I pet his hair while he mumbled, waiting for Apollo to collect himself enough to finish. He NEEDED this. He needed to mourn, to feel SAFE enough to mourn. 

Judging from what Apollo had told me, I doubted that he’d felt safe in a long time.

Apollo choked out the rest of the story. “I- I- promised him that I’d teach him every chord, that we’d play together with the Nine Muses for all of Mount Olympus... and then he crumpled to Dust in front of me.”

He fixed me with a resolute stare, his puffy and bloodshot eyes reflecting his sudden determination. “Jason asked me to make him a promise. To remember what it’s like to be human. And I will. Crest, Jason... they barely knew me. Yet they were willing to die trying to help me, to protect me. How many gods would do the same? They... they were heroes.”

He laughed bitterly. “How badly have we treated them, Artemis? How often have we sent them to their deaths, embroiled them in our own petty godly squabbles without caring about the consequences? After all, it’s not like they’re GODS,” he spat.

He seemed to calm down slightly then. “But you... you already knew that,” he stated quietly. “You’ve always known mortals’ worth. It just took all of this for me to catch up with you.”

I bit my lip. Apollo was right. I’d tried to talk to other gods about it in the past, but had given up. Even Apollo hadn’t understood my level of attachment and care for mortals, though he was a lot better than most other gods.

I’d always hoped he’d understand one day.

But not like this. Never like this.

I held my baby brother close as he dissolved into tears for the third time that day.

Chapter Text

God!Apollo’s POV

We arrived at the Empire State Building shortly before sunset. On the one hand, I was afraid that maybe the demigods (and satyr, and... me?) had already completed the quest, and my counterpart had fled. On the other hand, I was grateful I didn’t have to wait long for them to show up. I have a tendency to get lost in my own head when given the opportunity to think while stressed, and right then, I had nothing BUT time. Well I suppose I COULD have practiced for my concert (which at this rate I’d probably have to cancel, I didn’t think I could deal with performing at the moment) but there’s no way I could concentrate on it.

So I paced. 

I was grateful that Artemis believed me enough to come at least. My tale was absurd; I KNEW that. If I’D heard another god spouting about a time-traveling mortal version of themselves, I’d assumed they’d either been tricked or was crazy.

But I COULDN’T write off what I’d seen. I’d felt a vague sense of familiarity while looking at the boy, something that said ‘Look closely and THINK.’ But another, louder part of me had screamed ‘DON’T LOOK. Don’t listen. Not if you want to maintain your worldview. If you look too closely, even you won’t be able to hide from the truth of what you’ll see.’

So I tried to avoid looking. I invented a somewhat plausible-sounding reason for why they might have appeared out of thin air. I tried to maintain my careful facade.

Then my other self smashed it to pieces.

“Do not harm her.  Don’t you dare harm ANY of them.  LOOK AT ME!  REALLY LOOK AT ME, DON’T JUST STARE THROUGH ME LIKE WE ALWAYS DID, DON’T PRETEND PEOPLE FEEL THE WAY THAT’S CONVENIENT FOR US, FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, TRY TO UNDERSTAND! “

I couldn’t stop myself. I did as he asked and looked closer, into his essence, into his SOUL.

What I found shocked me. But I can’t say I was truly surprised. Part of me had already known what I’d find.

It was my own essence. My own self. Only a bare sliver, but undeniably there, and undeniably ME.

I’d freaked. I couldn’t help it. And I did what I always did when in emotional turmoil. I went to my family.

I glanced over at Artemis. She stood stock-still. To someone who didn’t know her, it might have looked like she wasn’t doing anything. I knew better. That was the look of a hunter waiting for their prey.

If my other self HAD been a trick, I would’ve felt sorry for them. Most gods knew better than to get on my sister’s bad side, myself included. We might mess with each other a little, but it was very, VERY rare for us to do something that would truly, deeply upset the other person. The times that’d happened... 

I shoved the thought away before it could fully manifest. I had enough going on with my current internal crisis. No sense picking at old wounds.

I heard the sound of rapid footsteps. I glanced up.

My mortal self charged towards my sister, a look of desperate NEED on his face. 

How long had he - had I - gone without seeing Artemis?

Was Zeus truly that cruel, to deny me from seeing my twin?

Who was I kidding. Of course he was.

My mortal self SMASHED into Artemis, sending him sprawling to the ground. I winced. That HAD to hurt.

He scrambled back up, winded. My sister - HIS sister - helped him up. 

I looked at Artemis’s face. The look of concern and shock in her eyes... clearly she’d realized that I hadn’t been tricked or mistaken. This boy was somehow, impossibly, ME.

He babbled brokenly into Artemis’s shoulder, tears running down his face and soaking Sis’s shirt. I watched silently. I was NOT about to get in the middle of this. For one thing, my other self NEEDED this. For another... well, who WOULD? Honestly if I could reasonably give them privacy I would, but we were in the middle of New York City right near the Empire State Building, and it didn’t seem like either of them were thinking about the location at the moment. I also hoped to hear more about what my future self went through. Maybe if I knew I could prevent it, or at least make it less traumatic.

Then Artemis checked him for injuries. And things got so much worse.

At some point along my journey, I’d been injured BADLY. Really, REALLY badly. And I seemed almost ASHAMED about it.

What my other self hinted he’d done - how he hinted about these other people being held captive, with his own life as the only bargaining chip he had - it chilled me to my core. Had he done what I thought he’d done? Nearly killed himself to help save a handful of demigods?

I didn’t quite know how to feel about that. I’d never had that level of resolve. I’d never been put in a situation where I’d had to choose between my own life and someone else’s.

If I was, could I make the choice my counterpart had?

Maybe... maybe if it was Artemis or Leto. But for a handful of demigods? They were disposable. I tried to help my own children at least, but even then I didn’t always realized that they’d died until years later. I’d been striving to get better on that front, but I still wouldn’t put myself in mortal danger for them.

The closest I’d come was with my favorite son, Asclepius. When Zeus struck him down, I’d been FURIOUS. But even then, I didn’t go up against Zeus directly for fear of being destroyed. I’d taken it out in the Elder Cyclopes instead. I was still punished, but it would’ve been MUCH worse if I’d outright attacked Zeus.

What had happened - what had he - what had I - been through, that had caused me to put the lives of a few demigods above my own? 

Why did he care so much?

I refocused on my other self. Maybe I could glean some answers from him.

I listened to his description of what Medea was going to do to him. What she HAD done.

I nearly threw up.

I stumbled to the nearest light pole and slid down it until I was sitting on the ground. 

I- I’d nearly been destroyed. COMPLETELY. 

Death was one thing, but THAT? That was MUCH worse.

And Zeus! He must have seen this. We weren’t omniscient - not by a long shot - but he would be watching me already, if only to laugh at my suffering.

He didn’t do anything.

Of course he didn’t. He didn’t even want me to help Artemis when she was captured, why would he intervene on MY behalf?

Because he would be partly responsible for your destruction, I answered myself. Because this goes beyond just sitting back and not helping. He would be the reason I was vulnerable in the first place. He would be responsible for it.

Oh who was I kidding. Zeus would just shove the blame onto someone else. Or maybe he’d just argue that I deserved it and it was my own fault I wasn’t tough enough to survive.

“I- I w-was saved. I- I- regained some of my memories. But n-not all. I- I...! ” 

Wait, WHAT?! I hadn’t regained all my memories afterwards? What did I forget...?

No.

PLEASE NO.

PLEASE ZEUS, PLEASE.

“I- I- I forgot you, Artemis. I forgot you existed.” 

Not seeing my sister was one thing. But forgetting her entirely?

That- that went beyond anything I could’ve imagined. 

I couldn’t - not without my sister - how - how had my other self even had the strength to CONTINUE? When something so fundamental to myself was ripped away? 

I could survive with being mortal. I’d done it twice before.

I didn’t know if I could survive without being able to even REMEMBER the person I was closest to.

Artemis knew me best - perhaps even better than my mother. She was my rock.

To have that swept away...

“I’m- I’m so sorry Artemis. I for-forgot you. I’m a horrible-” 

From my outside perspective, I knew it wasn’t his fault - MY fault - that he’d forgotten Artemis. 

But I also knew that in his shoes, I’d blame myself too.

Maybe we weren’t so different after all.

Artemis wasn’t having ANY of it.  “NO. Apollo, you are NOT a horrible ANYTHING, least of all for something you have no control over. YES, I’m shocked and angry, but not at you. NEVER at you. At our Father, at Caligula, at Medea, yes. BUT NOT AT YOU.”

Artemis... what had I done to deserve such a wonderful sister?

I teared up as my other self collapsed into my sister’s arms.

Artemis... she’d known just what to say. Of course. She always did.

After awhile, my other self calmed down enough to speak. 

I almost wished he wouldn’t. That I’d never have to learn what had caused him such pain. But I needed to know. I needed to UNDERSTAND.

My other self finally said how, EXACTLY, he’d gotten that wound.

So this... this was why he’d changed. Why I’d changed. Jason... he’d been willing to die without a complaint, because he couldn’t stand someone else dying in his place.

No gods had come to his aid. But a demigod HAD. 

Jason had been more willing to help, to put himself on the line, then any of my divine brethren. 

Of course that’s what heroes do, a voice whispered in my head. Jason is hardly unique in that way. But you never cared about that before. So why are you being affected now?

Because it’s me, I answered myself. It was always someone else before. It wasn’t me, so I wrote it off. I wrote off all those demigods and I HADN’T CARED.

My other self’s tale wasn’t done.

It got worse.

Jason at least was a demigod hero. I would at least EXPECT heroic actions from him, even if I hadn’t fully appreciated such heroics in the past. And from the sound of it, he hadn’t just sacrificed himself for me. It had mostly been for Piper.

But Crest?

It took me a moment to even remember what a Pandos WAS. I wouldn’t have expected much of anything from one of them. And from the sound of it, Crest was a child.

And yet...!

He’d... this kid... he’d not only gone against the orders of one of the cruelest people I’d ever known in the hope of getting some music lessons, but had continued to help my other self beyond ANYTHING he would have asked for.

He hadn’t stopped either. He’d sacrificed himself for me. He’d had SEVERAL chances to leave me to my fate, and yet he’d chosen to save me even if it killed him. Even though it killed his dream.

He didn’t even KNOW me.

Abruptly I realized that I’d stopped thinking of this as happening to some other version of me, and had started thinking of it happening to MYSELF.

I couldn’t help it. Hearing what had gone down, I connected more closely with this other version of myself. I saw how I’d gone from being me to being him.

We weren’t any different at our core. Of course we weren’t. We were the same person until very recently. It was only his recent experiences that distinguished him from myself, and hearing what he’d been through, I at least had a shadow of his experiences. 

I didn’t think I could ever become like this other version of myself entirely, never reach the sheer depth of his understanding and compassion for the mortals that I’d been neglecting for so long.

But I could try.

Maybe that would be enough?

Watching my other self collapse into my sister’s embrace for the third time, I decided that it would HAVE to be enough. I had to become someone worthy of the help my other self had been given. Someone worthy of those sacrifices.

I- I wanted to be a better person. A GOOD person. I didn’t know whether that was even possible. I’d done some horrible things in the past, and allowed others to occur in my ambivalence.  But I would TRY.

My other self calmed down enough to continue speaking again after a few minutes.

He turned to me, seeming to just remember I was here. I couldn’t blame him. With all he’d been through, with all he’d lost, I’d get tunnel vision too. 

He stared at me for a moment, seeming to search for words.

“Do you understand?” he asked at last, seeming to look into my soul. 

“I- I think so,” I replied, my mouth suddenly feeling dry.

He seemed to consider what I said for a moment, then nodded. “There are some things you need to know. I told Percy a lot of what happened, what’s GOING to happen, so you can ask him for more information later. But there’s some things I didn’t go into. Some things I wanted to tell you in person.”

I nodded, trying to hide my anxiety. 

“Our kids - ALL of them... try to be there for them more? When I went to Camp Half-blood, they- they tried to make me feel comfortable. Tried to help me feel like I belonged. Even though I barely knew them. Even though I’d only visited them in person a handful of times, spoken to them in dreams a dozen more. They still tried SO HARD to help me. They cared about me SO MUCH. They deserve better.”

Guilt twisted my stomach. I’d always felt that I should spend more time with my children. But I was afraid of what the other gods would say, ESPECIALLY Zeus. He preferred us to be hands-off if possible. I couldn’t do what he was asking...

Oh who was I kidding. It was true that Zeus didn’t like us spending too much time with our kids. He might notice if I vastly increased the amount of time I spent around them in-person, but he wouldn’t be paying as much attention to dreams, especially right now, when he had bigger things to worry about.

And I could probably sneak in a few more visits to Camp Half-blood than I did before. I’d just have to come up with some sort of excuse, like needing to talk to Chiron about something, or needing to drop off some stray demigod Artemis found who didn’t want or was unable to join the Hunt.

“I’ll try my best,” I said.

My other self sighed, “Good. Sometimes that’s the best we CAN do.”

He fell silent for a moment, his face twisting up a little. “There’s also the matter of one of my Legacies. Octavian.”

I tensed, glancing at Percy and Grover. He was talking about the Romans HERE? Now? In front of some Greeks? Sure he’d mentioned Jason before, but he hadn’t said anything to give away that he wasn’t Greek. Just MENTIONING the word ‘Legacy’ was a tip off that something was different about Octavian.

My other self noticed the look on my face and explained. “I already told Percy and Grover about the Romans. They’d need to know soon anyway, since Gaea is awakening and the Greeks and Romans will need to unite.”

I choked. Gaea was WHAT!

I opened my mouth to speak, but my other self cut me off. “I already told Percy most of what he needs to know, you can ask him for details later. I don’t know how much time I have and I don’t want to repeat myself too much.”

He took a breath and let it out. “So, Octavian. I think... he’s kind of like Commodus. I was enamored with Octavian’s promises, his vision of a future where I was head god of Rome. I fell for his flattery, ignoring any warning signs, just like I did all those years ago. Octavian, he... something’s wrong with him. I’m not sure what. Not exactly. But he REALLY hates the Greeks. I’m not sure why. You’ll have trouble forging peace between the camps if he’s in a position of power, at least as Octavian is now. Octavian... I think he’s ill somehow. After an unfortunate incident that led New Rome to believe the Greeks had attacked them - again, ask Percy - he went kind of crazy. Manic. He refused to listen to reason, and believed that anyone who questioned him would stab him in the back.”

“I don’t know whether he can be saved. I wasn’t able to save Commodus. But maybe... maybe if you catch him early, you can stop him from deteriorating too far. It’s worth a try. There’s no chance of success without TRYING.”

“Just make sure he’s not in a position of power or influence right now. He needs therapy, or medication, or SOMETHING. But if he’s able to retaliate... well, I don’t think he’d even believe ME telling him that he needs help. I can see him believing that I’m compromised or tricking him or something. And if he believes that there’s a threat, he’ll try to neutralize it. Probably fatally.”

“I don’t know whether you could get him the help he needs. Maybe there’s no saving him. Maybe there was no saving Commodus. But you HAVE to try.”

I flinched, thinking of Commodus. I HAD to kill him. The alternative was too horrible to withstand.

That didn’t make the guilt lessen.

If I could avoid having that situation again, I would. 

“I’ll try. I’ll look in on Octavian, try to find some sort of help for him. I think I’ll take a closer at the Romans in general, I haven’t spent much time with them lately. I think I’ll try to get to know Jason better as well. After what you’ve told me... well, I want a chance to know my little brother for more than a few hours. I’ll visit my children as often as I can get away with, considering Zeus and the War. And I’ll try to find Crest. Teach him to play the ukulele. Even if he’s never met me in this timeline, I still feel like I owe him for what he was willing to do in yours.”

My other self smiled at me, a bit of hope entering his eyes. “Thank you.”

I felt something snap into place, threads of destiny coming undone and reweaving themselves into a new tapestry. I could tell my other self felt it too.

He blurted out, “Find Meg! She was captured by Nero, She’s in-”

The air started twisting around them. My other self cut himself off, looking back at Meg in a panic. I had a distinct feeling he didn’t know WHERE Meg was, and he didn’t have time to ask.

Meg read his look. “Albany!” she blurted out.

CRAAAACK

The air untwisted, turning shimmering shades of green, then returned to normal.

There was silence for a moment.

“What just... happened?” my sister asked.

Oh yeah. She was the only who hadn’t seen this happen before.

“That’s what happened when they arrived. Except, you know, they appeared instead of vanished. Presumably they’re back in their own timeline now.”

I turned to Percy and Grover. “We need to talk. But it can wait until tomorrow. I need to hold this concert - can’t cancel without a lot of people wondering WHY, and I don’t want to divulge what happened to everyone just yet. Not before making plans. And I’m sure you two are tired after everything that’s happened.”

Percy smiled at me slightly. “Thanks. I’ll need to tell Annabeth, she can help.”

Grover suddenly looked nervous. “Um... Lord Apollo...” He gingerly returned my lyre. 

I looked it over, noticing the reason for his anxiety. A large scratch on the shell. Nothing that would impact the quality of its music, but I HAD said “not a scratch”.

That seemed like a lifetime ago. 

I gave him a small smile, hoping I looked comforting. “It’s fine Grover. I should have expected it to get a little banged up, with you bringing it into combat.” 

His face collapsed in relief. Percy gave me a weird look... awe? Understanding? I wasn’t sure. But he seemed happy with what I’d done.

As they walked away, I called out, ‘Oh, and Grover?”

The satyr looked back at me questioningly.

“Happy birthday.”

His face broke out in a smile. “It has been.”

I stood there for a moment, savoring this brief period of peace. Tomorrow I’d have to meet with Percy and Grover, find out what else my other self had to say about the future, what else should be changed. Tomorrow I could go looking for Meg and Crest.

But tonight, I had a concert to get to.

“You coming Artemis?” I asked my sister. 

“You have room for all my Hunters?”

“I think something could be arranged.”

“I’ll see you there then.”

I vanished as the sun set on one of the most important afternoons in Greco-Roman history.