Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

prologue - the promise

I.

His story starts at sunset the night after he left Olympus.

Quest completed, all the I's dotted and almost time to go back to Camp Half-Blood.

Percy is staring at the candy bars in a bodega, trying to decide between a Snickers or M+Ms, when he hears something fall behind him. 

He spins around, hand at his pocket itching to release Riptide.

Apollo stands next to the candy bars, a small mountain of Hershey's on the ground beside him. He gives a wry smile and raises an eyebrow. "Not the entrance I was planning."

It totally was.

Percy relaxes and snatches up the Snickers bar. Steps past Apollo towards the counter. "It's nice to see you but I have to go."

Haven't the gods gained enough?

Haven't I done enough?

Apollo places a hand on Percy's shoulder and towers over him in a totally serious way like he never had before.

"Perseus," he starts, inclining his head. He looks like he might actually bow and Percy shrinks back. He's addressing Percy like he might have if he, the saviour of Olympus, had agreed to the gods' cursed offer.

Who would ever choose to be a god?

"I'm here to warn you, Percy."

Percy takes a dollar from his pocket, slams it on the corner and steps out of the store. There's no need to wonder what the mortals can see through the mist. 

Outside, he leans against a tree. "I'm listening."

"You turned down godhood. That's not something we like. It's an honour even to be asked and well..."

Percy waits for Apollo to launch into a haiku or make a joke.

"They offered you eternity and you turned it down. So really," Apollo lowers his sunglasses and drops his voice to a whisper, "you're living on borrowed time."

Percy laughs. "Really? I've seen so many campers die this week and you're here to give me a chat about my mortality. All I want is a chance to live my life. My mortal life. Kronos has been beaten and now I want to be free. There's two more years of high school and then I'm free. There's so much I want to do."

Apollo smiles. "That's what I want for you too. Live your mortal life, while you can."

"Have you been talking to Hades? Because that's ominous."

Percy can't understand what Apollo is trying to say yet, he's too young and too high on the miracle of his own survival to notice that the god of prophecy wasn't telling him that he's going to die. It was rather the opposite in fact.

Chapter Text

I.

Percy tries to ignore Apollo's warning. Nothing good can come from listening to the gods, the last decade of his life has proven that.

But what if he is being kind? If telling Percy to 'live his mortal life' is more than just fortune cookie advice then maybe he should listen. Stop and smell the roses before a Minotaur eats them, or whatever.

He starts by taking Annabeth on a date. When he asks her if she'll come out with him she pauses, hands in the washing up bowl, and laughs deeply. "We're living together Perce, what's more romantic than that?"

She's smiling though and he knows it's been way too long since he treated her like someone he loves, rather than just the girl he happens to be with. They've got so much history together that sometimes he worries that it's the glue holding them together and without it, without Camp Half Blood and the monsters, they won't know who the other is anymore.

Annabeth doesn't sense the worry in Percy's eyes. She thinks this is all a laugh. "So where are we going then?" she asks, looping her soapy hand in his.

He squeezes her hand tight in response. "I have no idea."

It takes all week but he finally comes up with the right place.

II.

An amusement arcade on Coney Island. Candy floss and corn dogs. His beautiful girlfriend carrying a huge stuffed Pikachu down the pier before offloading it on a crying little girl and turning to Percy with a smile. "She looks like she could need it. Besides, I never understood the mortal obsession with those creatures. They look like monsters."

This is what he loves about her. The way to pull together their two worlds so well.

They go to a cafe right by the water, the waves pulsing like a heartbeat as the sound echos in Percy's head. He feels much closer to the water now than he used to but he hasn't thought to question it yet. Most children of the Big Three don't make it to adulthood so maybe this is normal.

Annabeth leans forward and kisses Percy on the cheek. "I'll go get us some ice creams. Blue for you, right?"

She leaves before he can protest that no matter how much he loves blue food, there's something seriously gross about bubblegum ice cream.

He leans back in his chair, watching the families enjoying their day out. A dad lifts his little boy onto his shoulders and Percy's stomach flips. Maybe one day--

Percy stops himself. The kid of two half-bloods as unlucky as he and Annabeth would never have a happy life. Better they focus on each other. On building a life beyond the monsters.

Annabeth seems to be taking a really long time, but eventually Percy hears someone sit down opposite him.

Without looking away from the family he's been watching, Percy holds out a hand for his ice cream. "Thanks darling."

There's no reply.

And then a tiny, almost embarrassed cough. "It's me, Percy."

His eyes snap up to meet his fathers' and it's like time stands still. When a god comes to visit, even if it is your own dad, nothing good will ever come to pass.

Poseidon smiles at his son. "Tell me, how's Annabeth?"

Oh no. Poseidon is here because something terrible is about to happen to Percy's girlfriend and he wants to make him feel better, even though they both know that once the Fates have cut the string there's not much anyone can do.

Percy replies, his voice shaking. "Annabeth's fine. She's going to be a real architect building things down here, not just on Olympus, and she's even designed a house for us both. Maybe one day we'll build it, it's got a swimming pool out back and a huge log fire with a reading nook for Annabeth's books. It wouldn't work in Manhattan but maybe-"

He narrows his eyes. "But you're not here to talk about Annabeth, are you? You want something from me."

Poseidon places his hand in the middle of the table like he wants Percy to take it. Wants to feel that his son is alive and well. Right before sending him into the monster's den.

"Nothing like that, Perseus. I don't need anything from you. Well, that's not exactly true. What I need, is an answer."

Poseidon's eyes drift over to the family playing behind them too. There's a little girl sitting on the sand with her Mom, building a sand castle while her Dad pretends to make her brother fly.

"And what's the question?"

"Most powerful half-bloods die young, you know that Percy." It's not a question.

The way Poseidon won't look him in the eye, how he keeps on staring at the little kids like there's something he misses even though he never got to watch Percy grow up. Something is going on here and none of it good.

Maybe the gods have decided that Percy is too strong, too powerful, to be allowed to keep going. It was only last week that he flooded a lecture hall just because Annabeth sent him a slightly flirty text. It wasn't his fault that the plumbing was terrible at NYU, but he should have had more control than that. It was going to take weeks for all the water to be pumped out and the space cleaned.

"Right." He half expects his father to pull out a blade and apologise before putting down his own son, like the gods have become scared that the half-bloods are going to pull a Zeus on them and take Olympus for themselves. It isn't like that though, the half-bloods know something the gods never worked out: ruling the universe isn't what it's cracked up to be.

"And those that don't might be given a gift. The chance to live forever amongst the gods they helped protect."

"Yes."

Percy didn't want that. Without Annabeth that could never be a gift. "Dad, you said that you had a question for me."

He doesn't answer straight away. "Zeus is letting me do this. I'll owe him for this but it isn't every day that you have to tell your son..."

Poseidon takes a deep breath and continues, flexing his hands in his lap awkwardly. He looks way too nervous, the colours seeming to leach out of his Hawaiian shirt and his beard growing grayer by the second.

"Please, just tell me whatever you have to say before Annabeth gets back. I don't want her to have to see us fight," he says it with a sad smile because he knows that even he can't best his father.

"I wish we could fight, Percy. That might be easier, if you were able to tell her that you tried everything in your power. Right. You turned down immortality but it wasn't a question, when Zeus asks -- it's not a multiple choice question. Your choice was whether you chose immortality or it was forced upon you."

Percy bursts out laughing. "I've cut myself shaving and my blood definitely isn't ichor."

"You've forgotten the cruelty of the gods, Percy. It was never going to be as subtle as that. Zeus wants to teach you a lesson and he's let me warn you. He would have rather you start suffocating on dry land without knowing what's happening but here it is: you're going to find yourself unable to breath outside the water. You're going to find yourself trapped at sea and the only way to lose the gills will be to agree to become a god."

"I'm your son, I've always been able to breathe underwater."

"And you're also your mother's son. You can breathe up here just the same. For now."

"The ocean is your domain, if what you're saying was happening, you'd be the one making it--"

Ah. Poseidon nods, the waves growing choppier behind them. "I haven't a choice in what happens to you. There's powers at play here you can't understand."

It sounds unbelievable, like this is all some prank, but his father was never one for joking. From the little he has seen of them, a lot of the non-cruelty based humour the gods laid claim to had sunk with Atlantis.

"How long?"

"What?"

"Apollo came first. He's the god of prophecy but if you're here, that means this is soon. Not even going to let me reach legal drinking age, marry Annabeth, be a marine biologist before you all force me to do your bidding? I said no."

"A few days son, to put your affairs in order. You'll start noticing the sea calling you and soon it'll be impossible to resist. As a god, you'll be able to resist the waves."

"And leave her behind. No."

Percy stands, his chair screeching against the sand. "It was nice to see you, Dad."

"Shake my hand at least, Percy." Poseidon holds his hand out and Percy knows there's something sinister in that gesture so he shies back and shakes his head. Funny, years ago he would have loved his father to recognise him and show even that small hint of affection. Now it doesn't even register.

Poseidon disappears between one breath and the next and Percy slumps back into his seat. It has to be a lie. It has to be.

III.

Five minutes later, Annabeth returns.

She's holding two bright pink ice cream cones and her face is bright red. "Sorry I was so long. The queue was really long and they didn't have blue ice cream so ta-da! I got us these instead."

Annabeth hands him one of the cones and he takes it without saying a word. Maybe he's been hallucinating.

Annabeth takes a lick of the ice cream and then faces him, eyebrow raised. "It's funny, the waves look really angry now. Are you alright?"

It's cute that she thinks he could control the ocean enough to do that (or maybe he can).

He laughs, the sound way too fake. "Of course I'm fine. I'm always fine. Everything's great."

Percy eats the ice cream cone like he believes it and he looks at his beautiful girlfriend and tries to memorise the curve of her face and the sound of her laugh and the way she looks at him when she's scared.

Nothing happens immediately, so he tries to pretend it's all been a waking nightmare, even though there's a seashell on the table that definitely wasn't there before. And the smell of the ocean is way stronger than before.

IV.

They stay on the beach for hours, paying for sun loungers and watching the waves together. When the sun starts to set, they're curled up together under an umbrella watching the gulls overhead.

"I'm really glad you're here, Percy," Annabeth whispers, head resting on his shoulder.

And of course, because the universe really is that unfair, that's when it starts.

Percy can't breathe. The air is being squeezed from his lungs. It's like holding the weight of the world and drowning and the terror of being high in the sky where he could be struck down and all of the awful things he's ever experienced all at once -

He can't breathe.

He can't breathe.

He can't think.

The sea. The water. The cooling lull of the ocean calling out to him.

"I'm sorry, Annabeth," he chokes out and then stands up, her hand falling from his and rushes out towards the water.

He barely hears her shout his name before he's under the waves and all thoughts fade from his mind.

Percy Jackson, who was he?

Chapter Text

I. For five days Percy drifts in the Atlantic ocean. He bobs up and down under the water, letting the current carry him wherever it may.

The water looks clear to him now and every so often a school of fish swim by his feet as if they're waiting to bow before him.

His mind is empty, his smile an empty-hearted grin. Percy knows that he used to live on land but he doesn't understand how that would work, there's not enough water there.

The moon is high in the sky above when he snaps back to awareness as if only a second had passed. His eyes fly open and he kicks for the surface, forcing his way up with a splash.

Percy tries to suck in a breath but finds the air does nothing for him now. He dives back under, then surfaces again. Looks around with vision that seems a little blurrier above the waves.

Where is he? There's only water as far as the eye can see.

How long has it been?

Annabeth. He took Annabeth for an evening out and abandoned her without a word.

She might think he's left her forever. The curse. It can't be real.

The edges of his vision start to go black so he dives under the water again, testing how long he can stay above water.

Not long enough for a life up on the surface with the love of his life.

Not even long enough to tell visitors to the seal sanctuary he had volunteered at about the little pup they'd nicknamed Mabel.

Or to tell his Mom and Paul about the latest blue food trend he'd seen in a tourist hotspot. He reaches into his pocket for the emergency mobile Annabeth had convinced him to buy.

It was always switched off to prevent unnecessary monster attention, but it still had the potential to be useful It's dead of course.

Too much water. He treads water, trying to think of a plan. There has to be something he can do other than just submit to the will of the gods.

II.

Up on the surface, Annabeth is trying to come to terms with her abandonment.

She's spent long enough feeling unloved and betrayed and she tells herself that Percy would never do something like that.

There has to be an explanation for why he would take her out to the beach and then run off into the ocean. To her daughter of Athena brain though, the date looks like a goodbye. Every aspect of it was too perfect to be anything other than Percy letting her know that he still loved her, even if he was too chicken to stay.

She stands at the kitchen countertop and shakes her head from side to side rapidly. No, that’s not right. Percy’s not a coward. She’s about to start brainstorming ways to find him when the phone rings. Annabeth darts across the kitchen so quick she skids across the hardwood floor and almost lands flat on her face. She catches the phone on the last ring. “Yeah?” She dispensed with the whole ‘Chase/Jackson residence’ thing round about the time that she realised that the only people who bother calling a millennials' house phone are either telephone salesmen or old people who already know you.

“Annabeth, how are you doing?” asks the caller, her tone warm and cheerful.

In the background Annabeth can hear a little girl ask if they’ll be making cookies tonight. It’s been a long time since she and Percy have seen Estelle.

Annabeth swallows. “Hi, Sally. I’m okay, thank you, there’s something I have to tell you –”

There’s a totally uncharacteristic squeal from the other end of the phone. “Percy asked you?”

“What?”

“Gods, you said yes, didn’t you? This isn’t you telling me that my future daughter-in-law isn’t… I’m sorry, Annabeth. I should let you tell me!”

She can hear Sally shushing Estelle in the background and Annabeth tries to swallow down the nausea that is rising quickly.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” She throws the phone onto the sofa and darts to the sink. When she’s done she fills a glass of water and takes desperate gulps before returning to the phone. This time she doesn’t try and be polite, there isn’t time for that. “Sally, Percy’s not here.”

“Where is he then? Out buying cake for your engagement party?” there’s an edge to Sally’s voice that wasn’t there before.

“I haven’t seen Percy for almost a week. We were on a date and he literally ran into the sea. If he wanted to get away from me, there’s easier ways.”

A bitter laugh erupts from Annabeth’s lips before she’s able to stop it.

“Darling, Percy wouldn’t leave you like that. Are you sure there’s no other explanation? Was there a monster? A quest?”

It’s been years since the hero of Olympus went on a quest. In their twenties now they’re both kind of considered to be old and past it, but now’s not the time for dwelling on the life of past-it halfbloods. "Maybe. There has to be an explanation other than him deciding to leave me, right Sally?"

"I'm coming over, Annabeth. Estelle, put on your coat." The line goes dead before Annabeth can tell Sally not to bother. There's no mystery to be solved. Any girl can be dumped and they don't need their ex-boyfriend's Mom to help them understand. Annabeth hugs a pillow as she lies on the sofa waiting for Sally. Sally had said Percy was going to ask Annabeth to marry him. And Annabeth would have said yes, that's the worst thing.

Percy, where are you?

Chapter Text

Percy clung to the side of the marina, hating every dumb decision that he’d ever made to get himself here. He could have said yes when he’d been offered godhood and then he’d be rocking it up on Mount Olympus… no closer at all to where he actually wanted to be.

“Hey, man, do you think I could borrow your phone?” he called out to a passing mortal who, seeing some guy neck deep in one of the grossest rivers mankind had ever polluted, snorted and walked away.

Annabeth would be wondering where he’d got to by now. It’d been five days since he’d set foot on land. Percy was determined not to head to Atlantis or seek help from any gods. Instead, he’d been bobbing up and down

As long as his new gills were submerged in the water, he could breathe just fine. Every time he’d tried to climb out of the water, though, black spots had filled his vision and he’d done a belly flop straight back into the Hudson.

So rule one: stay in the water. The apartment he shared with Annabeth was set back from the waterfront by at least a mile, so there was no way of getting a message to her that way.

Instead, he’d been stuck trying to get the attention of anybody passing by. Half the time the Mist didn’t even let them see him. The rest had just laughed.

It was getting late on day five of his watery imprisonment when Percy received his first visitor.

Apollo arrived with a pop. He appeared as Lester, the youthful appearance like a peace offering. He stood on the edge of the jetty, looking down at Percy. Then, slowly, he got down on his knees so that they were almost at eye level.

“How’s the rebellion?”

“I’m going for a swim,” Percy replied through gritted teeth.

“Fully dressed surrounded by all of the noise of the city, you just decided to go for a swim?”

“Yeah.”

“I am a god, you know. I know why you’re here and since I’m the god of prophecy, I know how you’ll be getting out.”

Apollo’s smile is less than human. Cruel, but without the knowledge of that cruelty. Percy’s response is as human as it comes: he reaches out a hand and splashes Apollo with river water.

The god’s eyes blaze gold. His inhuman smile fades. “Do you know how many mortals I’d burn for less than that? Flying too close to the sun is a terrible thing.”

Percy didn’t reply. He wasn’t trying to fly, di immortales he never planned to go anywhere near the sky or planes, lest Zeus strike him down. Besides, hanging out here wasn’t part of any plan he’d made.

Apollo sat down, letting his feet dangle in the water. He hummed under his breath, then let his appearance shift. Growing taller and taller, he kept a careful eye on Percy.

Who didn’t look away, as the god’s appearance grew less and less familiar.

“Mortals burn, Percy. Demigods too.”

“I’m a demigod.”

“Yet you look at my true face.”

Percy didn’t look away. “But that’s not what you really look like, Apollo.” Apollo was maybe ten foot tall now, his American street clothes replaced with Grecian dress. The gold within his veins shone bright.

“What do I look like, Percy Jackson?”

Percy stared back at the god and laughed. “You look like you’re trying too hard. If you showed me what you look like at full power, then I’d be a little sprinkling of dust. Do whatever you came here to do, then you can go.”

Apollo grew a little more. Waves appeared on the usually still river.

“A demigod telling a god where they can and can’t go, that’s really cute,” Apollo delivered the line flatly, with no hint of flirtation. Nor was there any malice to it. Percy frowned, not sure where this was going.

“Please go. It’s embarrassing being stuck here and it’s not like there’s much to do. I can’t even try and depollute the river because I’m trying really hard to keep a low profile and-”

Apollo raised a hand. “Demigods don’t depollute rivers. Demigods don’t tell gods what to do. Can we just skip to the end? Take my hand, get out of the water, and come home.”

Percy leaned forward, holding onto the rotting wood of the pier. Built by human hands, he ran his fingers over each of the nails holding the piece in place and daydreamed about summoning a wave big enough to yank it apart and send Apollo falling into the river.

“I can make the water cleaner, it’s no big deal. Really, I’d show you but you’ve got better things to do, Apollo.”

The waves started to grow more violent.

“You saw the Fates cutting a thread, Percy. Are you so sure it was Luke Castellan’s?”

“Go. Leave me, leave this river, leave this city. Just go!” Percy jabbed a finger out across the water. The waves swirled angrily and in the distance, a hurricane was beginning to form. Extremely rare for New York, previously seen only when an angry sea god was unable to tame his emotions.

“I don’t take orders from demigods.”

The wording was pointed but Percy didn’t bite. “You’re still pretending, Apollo. I haven’t burned because that’s not your real face. I’m not scared of you. You know I’m not scared of you. So please, just leave me to my misery. Or if you want to help, tell Annabeth where I am. You can’t scare me.”

Apollo clicked his fingers and snapped back to his Lester appearance. “Right, you’re not scared of gods, you’re scared of what we’d make you do. But you’ve shown me.”

He stood, smiling sadly at Percy. “I can’t make you do anything. It’d be easier if I could, Percy. This would all be so much better if you just gave up this pretence of mortality. But everything that happens from now on, you made it happen, okay. You did this, not us. The gods are cruel but, hey, so are you.”

Percy frowned. “What are you talking about, Apollo?”

Apollo stepped back. “I can’t interfere any more. I’m sorry, Percy.”

Percy sank below the waves and stifled a scream.

On the other side of New York, four people sit huddled on a sofa. A mortal man with his arms around a mortal woman. A young mortal girl in the arms of a demigod woman, who held a bowl of blue ice cream just out of her reach.

There’s a television screen in front of them. HURRICANE WARNING. DANGER TO LIFE.

“What did you do, Percy?” Annabeth whispers, as the electricity cuts out.

Chapter Text

The thing with monster attacks is that there’s always going to be another monster attack.The other thing about monster attacks is that you can never really anticipate exactly where they’re going to happen. There is one exception to that rule though. If there’s an overpowered demigod causing a huge storm that’s threatening to cause utter devastation across the entire city and the only place where the storm clouds are completely absent is the area in a five block radius around the apartments of Sally Jackson and Annabeth Chase…

Well, it’s hardly surprising that monsters and people would start to flock to those areas. News cameras too, if you care for all of that mortal noise. Complete freak of nature, that kind of weather pattern, apparently.

But for Percy Jackson, sitting underwater in the Hudson, didn’t know all of that yet. He was too busy trying to get the storm to stop.

Usually after using his demigod powers, there was a recharge period. He couldn’t just keep on manipulating water non-stop without a break.

Everything he’d usually try to make himself feel calmer wasn’t working. There was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that there was a very bad reason for that but he pushed it back.

The sea mightn’t like to be restrained, but Percy Jackson isn’t the sea. He’s a college kid with a great girlfriend and the best family and he’s definitely not about to cause utter havoc.

Percy kicked back up to the surface and called out to the sun god who he knew was till listening.

“Hey, Apollo, what do you do when the sun gets too bright?”

Apollo reappeared with a pop.

“Usually, I just turn it off and on again.”

Percy blinks rapidly, way too frazzled to know how to take that.

“Course not,” Apollo adds, “I just calm down and relax. Ride my chariot on and try not to worry about a little bit extra heat. It’ll all come right in the end.”

“Global warming isn’t a joke,” Percy mutters, as the water grows more and more choppy.

“You’re right about that but there’s not much we can do from here. Why don’t we do something to distract us from that really nasty storm? Like we could arm wrestle! Winner gets to fly the chariot tomorrow.”

“Have you got a bet with Ares or something? I thought you said you weren’t allowed to interfere.”

Because Ares would love to see Percy pulverised in a fistfight with a god. Besides, there was no way that Percy was getting in the sky.

Apollo dropped the Lester disguise and appeared, for a split second, totally as himself. Then he flickered back to the nerdy teenager he’d briefly been for real. “I’m being genuine, Perc. Get out all of your anger on someone you can’t actually hurt and then we can deal with this like adults. I can’t yank you out of the water or make you stay there, but I can talk to you.”

It seemed like Apollo had made some kind of decision of his own right then.

“I’m not allowed to punch a god,” Percy scoffed, even as he imagined what he might have done during all of his time at camp if he’d been as powerful as the gods.

“I never said to punch me, I said we could arm wrestle. But if you’d rather punch me, you can.”

“I don’t think that’ll help, somehow,” Percy replied, “but thanks.”

“One time offer, you sure you don’t want to do something fun like that?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I kind of need this storm to—”

Percy cocked his head to the side, a strange muttering sound overrunning everything. He could hear a woman talking but he had no idea where it was coming from.

“Do you hear that, Apollo?”

“A petulant kid turning down a gift from a god? Yeah, I hear that.”

“No, it sounded like Annabeth.”

He listened closer.

“I’m pretty sure she’s talking to me…”

Percy’s stomach swooped and he put his hand to his mouth. “She’s asking me to help her.”

“What exactly can you hear?”

“She said, ‘Please, Percy, come home’. And then there was some other stuff and something about a monster and—”

His eyes were wild. “She needs me. I’ve got to go back.”

Apollo didn’t respond. He was totally forbidden to interfere in this.

Percy swam right up to the pier and hoisted himself up onto the boardwalk. Like every other time that he’d done the same, he struggled to breathe. But this time he could hear the echoes of Annabeth’s whispered plea and all of the words left unsaid that he could suddenly hear and and

something snapped inside him

burning like fire

falling like the descent into tartarus

And it didn’t hurt to breathe any more. And Percy was sprinting home faster than he’d ever ran before. And the people in his way felt insubstantial as ghosts.

And Riptide was already in his hand as he raced up the staircase to his mom’s apartment. And if he realised that he wasn’t breathing hard despite running a three minute mile, he didn’t question it.

The door to the apartment was already open. Right there, in the middle of Sally’s kitchen, was a monster. Huge and gross and oddly unspecific, like every time that his eyes were drawn to it it seemed to change shape. At each glance, it looked like a different creature he’d fought and killed before. There wasn’t time to question that though.

Pressed against the wall behind him were the people Percy loved more than anything in the world.

Something ugly pulsed within Percy’s veins, like some growing part of him was thrilled at the idea of destruction and pain.

He rushed forward, ready to be the hero his family needed.

Chapter Text

Annabeth was standing in front of the sofa, weapon drawn. His mom pressed against the wall to the left of the kitchen counter, shoulder bumping against the pastel blue fridge door as she held tight to Estelle.

“Doggy!” shouted Estelle, reaching out with grabby hands for the monster that was starting to look suspiciously like the Minotaur that had almost killed Sally like a decade ago.

Percy’s stomach swooped. So his sister really couldn’t see through the Mist, huh? Not the time to worry about that though, the less she saw of mythical Greek beings the better for her.

The air felt oddly thin and Percy inhaled deeply. The kitchen pipes started to rumble like they were about to explode.

Annabeth’s eyes snapped to his.

“Miss me, Wise Girl?” he asked, uncapping Riptide as he stepped forward to join her.

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a look that said everything.

I missed loyal, dependable Percy Jackson. I missed the guy who doesn’t run off and hide in contaminated water rather than have a fun date with his girlfriend. I missed you, but where were you Percy? Where were you?

Odd how the questions in her eyes sounded like they were being shouted directly at him.

The monster still isn’t attacking. Its form flickers and it’s suddenly Kelli the empousa. Making snarky comments that Percy can’t quite catch hold of. He surges forward and slices at her. She dodges quickly. He slices her arm but can’t get a handle on anything that would cause actual damage.

Annabeth stands on his other side and together they attack this strange, shape-shifting monster. This monster that just won’t die.

“You really need to learn, godling, it’s loyalty that kills them all in the end,” spat the monster, in a gravelly voice that sounded oddly familiar. Percy jabbed at it as it ran from the kitchen and onto the balcony, leaving a bloody trail behind it.

The tightening in his chest was growing stronger by the moment. His inability to breathe affecting his ability to fight. Jab, jab, jab. Cuts and tears to the monster’s skin but nothing that stops it taunting him. Nothing that makes it turn into monstrous dust and return to Tartarus where it belongs.

It starts to rain and the feel of rain on his face feels more restorative than air. Annabeth shoves past him. “Percy, what are you doing? We need to end this.”

In the other room, Estelle screams. His mom pleads with her to be quiet. They’re in danger. But it’s not immediate. He’s got to focus.

Percy’s mind isn’t caught in the present, though, it’s a minute in the future. He can see claws growing out of the monster’s hands, reaching out towards Annabeth as she — suddenly distracted by Estelle’s piercing cry — feints in the wrong direction. A claw, piercing the daughter of Athena’s chest, and stopping her heart forever.

The Isles of the Blest, rebirth, calling.

He knows what he has to do. For some reason this monster just won’t die. But he can keep it from taking Annabeth. There’s no questioning the odd vision. He grabs Annabeth by the arm and pushes her through the balcony doors. The movement is too rough, she lands on the floor. Her sword flung away, back towards the hallway.

Annabeth has only just lifted her head from the floor when the monster’s talon finds its prize.

It stabs through Percy’s chest. Straight through his heart. His eyes widen and he falls to his knees.

Annabeth isn’t even back on her feet when the monsters shove him over the edge of the balcony then jumps after him with a cackle, as if the ten storey drop is a really funny joke.

***
In the ten seconds between starting his fall and coming to a halt an inch from the ground, Percy realises three things.

The first, he’s still alive. The second, he’s not breathing. The third, the monster is walking away. Styx, it’s skipping down the street.

Percy pulls himself to his feet, feeling remarkably fine for someone who has just received a mortal wound, and readies himself to go

He only makes it a single step before Apollo appears beside him, expression carefully blank. “I wouldn’t go up there yet.”

**
On the balcony above, Annabeth is sobbing. She rages against the gods, curses monsters and vows vengeance, but she never looks down.

In the kitchen Sally gently places Estelle into her high chair and walks into the bedroom, hands clinging to the walls for support.

In her most desperate moments lying awake late at night, she’d thought that if Percy were killed then Poseidon would raise a terrible storm. There’s nothing. Even the earlier rain has stopped. Perhaps there is reason to hope that Annabeth’s vow to kill that stupid fucking shape-shifting —

Sally enters the bedroom. She sees Annabeth’s face and they fall apart in each other’s arms.

**

I swear on the Styx, I’ll kill it for you Percy. I’ll drag it back down into Tartarus with my bare hands if I had to. The hero of Olympus dies and where were the gods? Where were you Poseidon?

Percy clutches his head. “I can hear her.”

Apollo nods. “I imagine that the god of the demigods would hear their prayers.”

“It’s not a prayer,” Percy said on autopilot, distracted by Annabeth raging and all but saying that she would throw down the gods.

God of the demigods.

The Fates cut a string and years later a boy hands another boy a knife.

You’re not the hero, Percy, it’ll change what you do.

You’re not the hero.

Gods aren’t heroes.

Gods can’t be heroes. Heroes live forever in their deeds and their words and the memory of the day they stood on Coney Island eating blue cotton candy with their girlfriend. Gods are steadfast, unchanging, cold. Can gods truly love?

Maybe it was an echo, his mortality only recently ripped from him, but Percy felt like he still loved his family as much as he ever had. He can feel the spin of the earth on its axis, can sense the worries and fears of demigods across the city, but he still loves Annabeth. He can go back. See her. Tell her it’ll all be okay.

“This was always going to happen, Percy. If not this monster, if not today, then soon,” Apollo said.

“You knew,” Percy whispered dully, “you knew and you didn’t warn me.”

“I said as much as I could.”

“I need to get back. None of this matters.”

The air remained still, water around the city no longer reacting to Percy’s anger. His ties to the sea had been lesser than his loyalty to those he loved, in the end.

“They think you’re dead, Percy. Annabeth saw a monster slice a hole in your chest. Your mortal blood will be all over that apartment.”

“I can explain.”

Five blocks away he can hear shouting and instinctively knows that the monster — the one that he can’t help but feel is his responsibility — is attacking a defenceless demigod.

Percy looks on the ground for Riptide then checks his pocket, nothing. It won’t come home to a god.

“You know that monster will make easy work of some poor unclaimed kid. I can’t interfere, but you… maybe you could still help. Or you could go back to Annabeth.”

Percy was beginning to suspect that the gods had brought this monster here, if it even was a monster at all.

His heart told him to run up the fire escape. Lessen his family’s pain and prevent Annabeth from swearing some oath of vengeance that she’d only regret.

Something bigger than that human reflex was all but commanding him to go save the kid.

Percy stared at Apollo, whose golden glow had never seemed as bright as it did in that moment or eyes so inhuman.