Chapter Text
Percy isn’t quite sure how he got here. One second he is laying down to sleep on the floor of the overcrowded Hermes cabin, the next he opens his eyes and he’s standing on a beach, the sea spread out before him, a blue tablecloth stitched with white waves. He barely has a second to process where he is before the sounds of fighting reach his ears.
Percy turns around in time to see an older boy come into view. The other boy looks about the same age as Luke, maybe a year or two younger despite the streak of grey in his dark hair, dressed in casual clothes with a bronze sword in one hand and a determined look on his face.
Three other people follow him, with unfamiliar armor and golden swords pointing at the boy. “Die, Graecus!”
Percy blinks. Is Graecus the other boy’s name? Kind of a weird name, but then Perseus isn’t one to talk.
“Come on, guys,” the older boy says, backing up towards the sea - towards Percy, and he abruptly starts looking for somewhere to go, out of the way of the incoming fight. He doesn’t even have a sword in this dream - assuming this is a dream - never mind the fact that no sword balances right for him. Guess that’s too much of a stretch for a dream. But honestly, right now he’d take anything - instead he’s left empty handed.
The older boy is still backing towards him, still talking. “You don’t want a war, and neither do we. Can we just, put down our swords and talk about this?” He glances back towards Percy, and this time seems to realize he’s there. The boy freezes for a second, his attention on Percy instead of his opponents. “Schist,” the boy mutters, his gaze flicking down to Percy’s t-shirt, a bright orange thing Chiron had given Percy to wear the other day. The boy’s gaze flicks back up to meet Percy’s eyes, and suddenly the boy’s dark eyes widen. “Fuck,” he swears before rapidly turning back to face his opponents. “Guys, seriously, give me two minutes to talk about this.”
“No chance,” one of them snarls.
“We trusted you,” a different one says sadly.
“You still can,” the boy says, his tone pleading. That opponent hesitates, but the other two attack.
Percy flinches backwards, away from the clashing of swords, but he needn’t have worried. The older boy whirls into motion, his blade almost a blur in the air as he blocks and deflects and parries and strikes. Percy feels sea spray brush against his cheek, and abruptly realizes there’s water following the path of the boy’s sword. He’s a demigod. Which maybe should have been obvious from the get-go, but the whole children of divine beings thing is still a little new for him.
He watches in awe as the boy disarms his opponents in a matter of what feels like seconds, knocking them to the ground one by one. “Little tip for you,” the boy says to the last opponent standing, a dagger to replace the sword the boy has already knocked out of his hand. “Next time you want to fight a son of Poseidon, don’t do it two feet from the ocean.”
The opponent snarls and darts forward, but the boy side steps with an ease Percy has only seen in Luke’s movements, slamming the hilt of his sword into his opponent’s helmet. The other fighter crumples to the ground with his companions, and the boy finally turns to Percy.
Percy’s initial step back is mostly due to the look on the other boy’s face - in his dark eyes, because for a split second it reminds Percy of the wolves in the documentaries his biology teachers keep making him watch. This look is wild, makes the hairs on the back of Percy’s neck stand up, because demigod or not, not even Clarisse invokes this much fear with just a look.
But almost in time with Percy’s step backwards, the wild look vanishes to be replaced with one of concern - much more human, and the little hairs on the back of Percy’s neck calm down. “Hey, it’s okay,” the older boy tells him, his voice gentler than it had been in the fight, his hands going up in the universal gesture for I come in peace - though one part of Percy’s brain notes he does not put his sword away. “I-I won’t hurt you.”
“Who are you?” Percy didn’t mean to ask that question, but once he does it’s like a dam has broken, and more questions spill out. “Where are we? Who are they?” Percy points at the three guys on the ground behind the boy, then his brain snags on something he said earlier and spouts one last question. “Are you really the son of Poseidon?”
The older boy blinks, and Percy is all set to wince and apologize when he chuckles. “Gods, I forgot what I was like at twelve,” Percy hears him mutter. The older boy steadies himself and seems about to answer Percy’s questions, when a shout makes both of them tense.
“Percy!” Percy looks over in the direction of the voice, but for all that the owner said his name, Percy doesn’t recognize him. It’s another boy, about the same age as Wolf Boy, maybe a year younger, with blond hair, a purple t-shirt, and a gold sword held in one hand - the same color as the guys Wolf Boy was fighting earlier, and Percy wonders what’s up with all the gold. But Blondie isn’t looking at Percy - he’s looking at Wolf Boy. Figures this dream would be confusing.
“You need to come back to the Argo II. Annabeth says we-” Blondie’s eyes land on Percy, and Percy is surprised to see they are literally electric blue. He didn’t think anyone actually had eyes that color. “Um.” Blondie glances over at Wolf Boy. “Is that-?”
“Yep,” Wolf Boy confirms.
Blondie blinks, glancing over at Percy before asking Wolf Boy another question, like Percy isn’t even there. “How?”
“No idea.” Wolf Boy blows out a breath and moves on before Percy can demand to know what the heck they’re talking about, because it involves him somehow. “But you’re right, we need to get back to the ship.”
“We need to do it fast. But I don’t think I can carry both of you,” Blondie says, and Percy’s missing something. He’s younger than them, okay, but he can still walk. And Wolf Boy is more than capable of moving on his own - Percy’s not even sure Blondie can lift him.
Wolf Boy grins - and where has Percy seen that grin before, because that’s a human grin that promises trouble, but promises fun too. “You don’t have to. You ride the winds, we’ll ride the waves.” Percy’s brain short circuits for a second, because he can’t possibly have heard that right. Wolf Boy puts a hand on Percy’s shoulder, and Percy looks up to see the older boy’s grin has softened into something a little fonder, though why it’s directed at Percy he has no idea. “C’mon, kid. You’ll like this.”
Next thing Percy knows they’re in the water, but they aren’t sinking. They are literally riding the waves, feet at the top of an ever-swelling crest like they’re surfing, spray misting in Percy’s face, and he’s never felt so alive. He spares a glance up at Blondie in the air above them, arms stretched forward like- “He looks like a blond Superman.”
That gets Percy a laugh out of Wolf Boy. “Yes he does, doesn’t he?”
Shortly after that comment, a ship comes into view. It’s one of those old-fashioned masted ships, with a bronze dragon figurehead that’s…spitting fire? At… “Are those giant eagles?”
Percy’s question goes unanswered as Wolf Boy swears. “There were not this many when I left.”
Huh. Guess the ship is where they’re heading, and guess it’s not too weird for giant freaking eagles to be attacking it.
“We need to leave, now,” Blondie says above them.
Percy’s a little too busy focused on the fire-breathing dragon to notice how they end up on the deck, he just knows it seems one second his sneakers are in the waves, the next they’re on the wood of this ship.
“Finally!” A curly-haired kid in a bright orange t-shirt with a tool belt around his waist is standing at the weirdest-looking control panel Percy’s ever seen. He turns towards them, an aggrieved look on his face, and gets two words into complaining before his eyes meet Percy’s and Tool Belt cuts himself off, eyes going wide. This is getting old fast.
Percy wonders if he has something on his face and asks as much, only for Tool Belt to glance over at Wolf Boy instead of answering him. “Dude. What the Hades?”
“I know, I know,” Wolf Boy says, stepping forward - and Percy can’t help but notice that the movement puts Wolf Boy between him and Tool Belt. “Look, do we have everyone?”
“Everyone except Annabeth.” Percy blinks, even as Wolf Boy seems to almost freeze before his gaze snaps towards the fort Percy can see not too far off. Because that’s the second time someone has mentioned Annabeth, except it can’t be the girl who’s been tutoring him in Greek. For one, she’s his age, no way is she off on her own - except, Tool Belt looks only two or three years older than him and he seems to be in charge of the ship. It just has to be someone with the same name. Surely Annabeth is a common enough name. Right?
“She’ll make it back. We just have to buy her time.” Percy looks up to see Wolf Boy is still staring at the docks, one of Blondie’s hands on his shoulder.
For a long moment Wolf Boy doesn’t move, nor does Tool Belt behind them, then finally Wolf Boy rolls his shoulders with a huff and turns to Tool Belt. “You’re right. Leo, we need to be ready to leave as soon as Annabeth gets back. Hedge, Piper, Frank, Hazel…” He trails off and glances around, and whatever he sees happening must not require comment. “Okay. Then-” Wolf Boy’s attention is on Percy all of a sudden, and part of Percy’s brain notes that his eyes are the same shade of green as the sea in a storm. “Try not to wander off, okay?”
That is not what Percy thought he was going to say, and against his better judgement he bristles. “If you gave me a sword, I could help.” Wolf Boy just looks at him, and Percy shrinks back a little. “Sort of. I mean, I could try.” Because no sword balances right for him, and Luke’s been trying, but that one minor detail affects a lot more than you think it would in a fight. He just feels useless, and he hates that feeling.
An expression swiftly crosses Wolf Boy’s face, one that Percy can’t decipher, then as swiftly as it came it’s gone and the older boy is grinning at him. “Oh, we’re not going to be using swords.”
Percy frowns, because huh? How the heck does that work? Wolf Boy looks past him to Blondie, who has a very similar grin on his face.
“Kansas?”
“Kansas.”
Percy is about to ask what Kansas means, but before he can Wolf Boy and Blondie cross their swords and close their eyes, their expressions looking like they’re focusing on something. At first nothing seems to happen, not that Percy even knows what to look for. Then the wind starts gusting a little louder and the waves start crashing a little harder, and he abruptly realizes they’re in the center of a storm that came from nowhere. No, he thinks, looking at Wolf Boy and Blondie, remembers how one rode the waves and one flew to get here. Not from nowhere. From them. Percy still isn’t totally familiar with the Olympians, but he’s not sure any of the options Annabeth mentioned would result in something like this.
“Uh, Leo?” Yet another unfamiliar voice, and Percy looks over to see Tool Belt isn’t the only other person on this ship. An older guy is manning what looks like a huge crossbow, a baseball cap over his head and the same furry hindquarters as Grover. A satyr.
The other three are human - or more likely demigods, given Wolf Boy and Blondie are definitely not just human. One of them is a big guy Percy would stick with Clarisse and all her siblings, except he’s got a quiver of arrows slung across his back and a bow in one hand, sending arrows into the massing force on the docks. One is a girl with dark curly hair and eyes like gold coins, a gold sword in one hand and her attention focused somewhere beyond the docks, while the last girl has short choppy hair and a dagger at her hip. She’s the one who spoke from her position by the railing, and it’s apparently to her Tool Belt replies. And okay, maybe Percy’s gotten names, but no one’s introduced him yet. He might be being a little petty. Maybe.
“I know, Beauty Queen. Look, I didn’t get an explanation, and I need you focused on the Romans. We’re leaving as soon as-”
“Annabeth!” Gold Eyes says, her eyes somehow getting brighter.
Percy turns to follow her gaze and freezes. What is going on? Because there on the pier is a familiar-looking blonde. Well, as familiar as she can look from a distance, and Percy doesn’t have too much hope that he’ll get a closer look. Between her and the ship are a whole bunch of people with armor and swords, plus the storm that gets worse with every passing second.
But as Percy watches, she runs right through the storm, untouched by the wind or the waves that are buffeting the soldiers around her. And the closer she gets, the more familiar she looks, though something is a little off still. She sprints onto the deck and calls out, “Leo, take off!”
Percy finds his attention drawn back to Wolf Boy and Blondie in time to see both boys open their eyes. He steps back, just a little, because Wolf Boy’s nickname is accurate again - but Blondie has the same expression on his face. They slide their swords past each other and point them at the coast, and the sea and sky collide, pushing them away from the docks even as it pushes their opponents back.
“Whoa.” Percy’s small expression of awe is enough to get the attention of the girl who looks an awful lot like Annabeth, but can’t be. Annabeth isn’t this tall or this old - this girl has a streak of grey in her hair, a match to the one in Wolf Boy’s dark hair.
Definitely-not-Annabeth glances down at him and does a double-take, her head whipping from him to Wolf Boy and back in seconds. “Oh. Wow. He’s never mentioned this.”
Percy has no idea what she’s talking about, but that’s fine - he has a more important question to ask her. “Why do you look like Annabeth?” Maybe Annabeth has an older sister? Half-sister?
The girl looks at him for a long moment before she snorts. “Seaweed Brain, I am Annabeth.”
Percy frowns, because two Athena kids named Annabeth? Surely the name isn’t that common. “No, you’re not,” he says, hazarding a guess.
“Yes I am,” she replies, not offering anything else other than that as she turns back towards Wolf Boy and Blondie, the storm they summoned starting to die down. “You still drool in your sleep, by the way.”
Percy does his own double take at that comment, because that is one of the first things Annabeth said to him after he woke up. How on earth- Another thought floats across Percy’s mind - it’s a dream, Jackson. Though Percy’s not totally convinced this is a dream. The Minotaur and…and his mom wasn’t a dream, and this isn’t much stranger than that. Except, Percy’s pretty sure he remembers falling asleep in the Hermes Cabin. So he has no idea what to think.
He moves on from the comment to the two boys, returning to his train of thought from earlier. “How are they able to do that?”
For a moment Percy thinks Probably-not-Annabeth is going to ignore him, then she glances down at him so he can see her eyebrows coming together in slight confusion. “Well, Jason’s the son of Jupiter, and you know who your dad is.”
“No, I don’t,” Percy shoots back - and okay, maybe he’s a little touchy about that, but Luke’s reassured him he’s entitled to a grudge. Did he not want me, or did he not want to deal with the stress? Percy shoves that thought away and moves on. “I’m unclaimed, and I stink at everything Luke and Chiron had me try so far - except canoe racing. I’m slower than trees - I doubt my dad wants anything to do with me.” Percy bites his lip at that last statement, because he kind of didn’t mean to say that - it just slipped out.
It earns him a weird look from Can’t-possibly-be-Annabeth. “Have you played Capture the Flag? At camp?”
Percy shrugs. “Not yet. Luke keeps saying the next game is Friday - and I’m pretty sure I’ll die, because Clarisse is out for my head.”
For some reason that makes Definitely-not-Annabeth laugh. “Yeah, you and Clarisse have that effect on each other.”
Percy’s about to ask her how she knows anything about him to say that, then movement in the corner of his eyes makes him realize Wolf Boy and Blondie are swaying on their feet, swords dangling from their hands. Probably-not-Annabeth’s eyes widen and she darts forward. “Piper! Catch Jason!”
The girl Tool Belt had called Beauty Queen looks up from where she was tying something down, and in a second she’s also darting over to the two boys. Blondie crumples first, then Wolf Boy, the two girls the only thing keeping either of them from face planting on the deck. Each girl lowers their catch so they’re laying on the deck, and as Percy wanders over for lack of anything else to do he hears Wolf Boy groan, one hand coming up slowly to rub at his forehead. “Fuck. That’s draining.”
“I’ll bet,” Shouldn’t-be-Annabeth says with a fond look.
Wolf Boy blinks his eyes open and smiles at the blonde holding him, then he squints over at Percy and the soft smile widens into a grin. “What’d you think, kid?”
Percy takes that as actual permission to join their conversation, and he matches Wolf Boy’s grin. “Awesome. I wish I could do something like that.”
Something almost like a shadow seems to cross Wolf Boy’s face, and Can’t-be-Annabeth smacks his shoulder. “Something you forgot to mention to me, Seaweed Brain?”
That’s the nickname she called Percy earlier, but now she’s looking at Wolf Boy when she says it, so Percy doesn't know what to think. Wolf Boy groans again and starts trying to sit up, his actions copied by Blondie next to him. “Honestly, I have no memory of this. If this happened to me, I forgot it.”
“How do you forget something like this?” Beauty Queen asks, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“It’s a talent,” Maybe-could-be-Annabeth says teasingly. She’s got a very similar personality anyway.
“Um, why would you remember this happening?” Percy asks. He knows he probably shouldn’t question what’s probably dream logic, but he’s never been big on doing what he’s supposed to do. All four of them just stare at him instead of saying anything, and he shifts uncomfortably. “What?” he asks defensively.
“It’s really taking you this long to figure it out?” Blondie says, wincing as soon as he’s finished asking the question.
“Cut me some slack, Grace,” Wolf Boy replies, “I’m twelve.”
“You don’t look twelve,” Percy blurts out. Definitely at least sixteen, probably older.
Wolf Boy raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m not. You are.”
“I know.” Percy resists the urge to say duh.
They stare at each other again, then Wolf Boy tilts his head back with a long-suffering sigh. “Gods, Annabeth, I was hopeless as a kid. How did I survive?”
“Give yourself some credit,” Might-actually-be-Annabeth says, her grey eyes on Percy with the same look the Annabeth at camp gives him when he’s working to translate some line of whatever it is they’re reading, Percy hasn’t bothered to translate the title yet. “He’s figuring it out. He just needs to look a little closer.”
It’s the look that says I know you know this. You can do it. Come on, get there. On Annabeth, that look frustrates him, though it usually forces his brain to connect whatever dot he was missing to get the right answer. On this girl, it doesn't make Percy feel frustrated. Instead it gives him confidence, and when Possibly-actually-is-Annabeth tilts her head towards Wolf Boy, Percy does step closer and narrows his eyes. There’s a puzzle here, and while Percy’s not the best at puzzles, he thinks he has enough of the pieces scattered around to solve this one. Or at least make an attempt.
His gaze sweeps across Wolf Boy’s face, noting again the black hair, windswept from the storm he’d summoned, and the eyes, a familiar shade of sea green. One glance over the railing proves they’re the same color as the water around them, which is interesting.
The clothes are no help - they’re casual, just a pair of jeans and a well-worn t-shirt. There isn’t even a scabbard for a sword - and speaking of which, the bronze sword he had a minute ago is nowhere to be seen. Percy ignores that and moves on. Come on, Jackson. Think it through.
You don’t look twelve. - I’m not. You are.
You and Clarisse have that effect on each other.
I have no memory of this.
You still drool in your sleep.
Percy.
And Percy suddenly knows why the grin Wolf Boy keeps throwing him is so familiar - it’s the same one Percy sees in the mirror.
“My dad’s Poseidon?” Which maybe shouldn't have been the first question - the grey streaks, the wicked sword skills, summoning a hurricane, and Percy’s pretty sure there’s a tattoo on this kid’s arm - but that’s what tumbles out of his mouth.
The smirk on his older self’s face turns into that grin Percy knows so very well. “You’re going to enjoy Capture the Flag, Percy.”
And that’s when Percy wakes up.
Hermes Cabin is silent, the sky still dark.
Percy rolls over and goes back to sleep, and by the time he wakes up the next morning he’s forgotten all about it.