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    Summary

    “Oh my gods, Percy. It’s you.” Grover’s hands started patting him down and Percy squirmed in pain and annoyance. “What happened? Percy, what happened?”

    “Hold the questions, Grover,” another voice said, as smaller hands gripped his shirt and started dragging him past the invisible line drawn by the pine tree. Right, Percy thought, the weird cult kids. “We have to get him into camp.”

    Another set of hands joined him and with the extra support he made it into the valley, spotting lights on in a farmhouse in the distance. A small part of Percy registered that he wasn’t getting rained on anymore even though he could still hear the storm raging in the distance. Instead, his gaze locked with a pair of cool grey eyes framed by pieces of blonde curls. “How did you get here? Who is your godly parent?”

    He could hear his mother’s voice echoing in his ears, months and months ago: no one can know, Percy. Even the gods.

    “I don’t know.”

    or

    AU where there is no Lightning Thief and 13 year old Percy Jackson stumbles across Camp Half Blood determined to hide his status as a Big Three kid.

    (Part 1 now complete)

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