Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

New York City alleyways weren’t Apollo’s scene. He much preferred the Bahamas or that one club on Olympus with the great view.

Today though, he had a favor for a friend. Well, ‘friend’— family. Artemis lost a monster she’d been tracking and some of her girls had family in the city; Apollo chuckled at the thought. A monster on the loose in NYC… awfully cliche, no?

Still, he owed her one.

He could definitely sense something at the end of the alley. A buzzing sense, the scent of salt water, the color of the sky during a hurricane. He shot a smile to a passerby mortal, who instantly turned the same bright red as his sun chariot’s car mode, and took some steps in.

He didn’t bother taking out his bow. Say what you will, but he wasn’t in a hunting mood that day. He was feeling too laid back to actively look for a fight. Any creature that dared oppose him would be turned into a plant. Maybe a cactus? Apollo wasn’t sure. It was an art, turning people into plants. You had to pick up on the subtleties of their personality, combined with their outer appearance, and create a clever plant rendition.

With every step, he can feel the aura becoming stronger. It felt… familiar. Almost godly.

Apollo shook his head. He swears to his father if this was Hermes playing a prank…

“Show yourself, for it is I, the lord Apollo!” He proclaimed, waving his hands with a flourish. The alleyway shone with his power, illuminating ripped trash bags and graffitied brick in a golden glow.

The alleyway did not respond.

Annoyance flared up. If there’s anything that turned Apollo’s mood sour quickly, it’s being ignored.

He swiped a hand through the air, and the alleyway exploded into a spray of garbage. It went everywhere, on the walls, on the disgusting ground— everywhere except where Apollo stood.

There, standing in the corner of the alley, previously hidden behind some trash cans, was a shivering, trash-covered demigod. It clutched a pair of scissors, pointing them at Apollo like a sword.

Apollo glanced down at the scissors for less than a second, before looking at the demigod. He was filthy, he had dirt marring his face, and the trash rain hadn’t helped. His big green eyes were wide and terrified, just like someone should be upon earning Apollo’s ire. Even so, his pitiful scissors were not lowered in fear.

Apollo scoffed. “Just a demigod.” Not even a civilized demigod by the looks of it. A feral demigod.

He does feel a smidge of pity for the pathetic creature and whips out his phone.

Without a care, he approaches the demigod. The half-blood may be powerful enough to catch his attention, but not powerful enough to hurt, much less land a hit on him. The demigod flinches back, his hands clutching his scissors so hard his knuckles turn white.

If possible, the demigod looked even more startled when he brought out his phone.

“Right,” Apollo mumbled. “Demigods are scared of phones.” Why was that again? He couldn’t remember. Something about a child of Hecate?

The demigod pressed itself into a wall, flinching when the camera clicked.

Apollo chuckled at the fear. Demigods were so little— so scared. He imagined it would be quite tiring to live like that.

Apollo☀️ 🔵
@TheApollo

Come get ur kid 😂

[attached image]

He hit the post button without a second thought. The demigod does not move.

“Well, have fun in your dirty alleyway, mortal!” Apollo glanced over his shoulder, an easy smile resting on his face. “Hope you survive a few more days!”

He strode out the entrance, running a hand through his hair. Maybe it was a little mean for him to say the last part, but the demigod had pointed scissors at him. The only reason he didn’t zap him on the spot was that he had a powerful aura, which likely meant he was an Olympian god’s kid… and it got awkward when you enacted godly punishment on them.

Besides, Apollo was on pretty good terms with everyone lately and wasn’t looking to step on anyone’s toes. Hence the favor for his sister.

Speaking of said favor, he had work to do.

——

Apollo collapsed into his fluffy bed, sending a pillow mint bouncing towards the ceiling. He didn’t normally sleep and wasn’t planning to, but the hotel had looked so welcoming, and it had started to rain. In the middle of winter! He huffed, aggravated. The sunset was going to be so pretty tonight, too. He should go have some words with Zeus.

The hotel was five stars, of course. Apollo did not settle for less. With that, came an amazing view of the city.

Lights of skyscrapers twinkled through the fog and rain. The rain, despite blocking out Apollo’s gorgeous sunset, was comforting background noise.

Apollo lets out a sigh of contentment, pulling his phone out.

He’s not surprised to see his lock screen dominated by notifications. People wanted to talk to him all the time, it was a universal fact. He scrolled through his text messages, glancing over the unimportant ones begging for his attention. A blue notification popped up, accompanied by the chime he assigned to fellow council members. Apollo felt a grin returning. Finally something worth his time.

Dionysus: your kid is here

Dionysus: thats the second one this year

Apollo smiled. Was that all of them now?

Apollo: name?

Dionysus: barking up wrong tree

Apollo furrowed his brow, hoping that for Dionysus’ sake he wasn’t making the joke Apollo thought he was.

Dionysus: aaron maybe? can’t keep track of all the little brats.

Apollo frowned at the phone. Dionysus had been kind of a downer lately since he’d been stuck at that camp. He used to love the demigods— or at the very least, tolerate them, more than the other Olympians. He’d been one himself, after all.

Apollo: austin?

Dionysus: yeah

The frown dissipated. He knew that one. His mother was the music theory teacher. Incredible woman, he can still remember the exact color her brown eyes shone in the sunlight. He should stop by— she might be lonely after Austin’s move to Camp.

The train of thought brought him to Austin, and then to his other children. Admittedly, some of their names were a bit fuzzy, and Apollo sometimes mixed them up with his long-dead children.

He wasn’t a bad father, demigods just didn’t need parents as mortals did. They were built to be capable, resilient creatures. Apollo looked out at the city light, the comfort of the hotel bed cushioning him. The rain made a pitter-patter noise against his window. His mind wandered to the demigod in the alleyway.

Hypothermia was a cause of death for demigods. Apollo had always found it so ridiculous. Imagine dying because the temperature was off. Ridiculous. Shouldn’t godly blood protect them from such a stupid death?

Would rain on a cold night do that demigod in?

Apollo shook his head and directed himself to a different app.

Hundreds of new notifications lay in front of him.

Greenie
@dryyeahd

Bleck why does it look so dirty

1K❤️ 190💬

Penelope
@hehehe3

Guys cmon don’t do this to your kids.

234❤️ 21💬

Ganymede🏳️🌈🔵
@ganymede

If I was the parent I would’ve brought it to CHB myself

2K❤️ 322💬

Cassie
@naiadss_s

Aww 💔 someone get that poor kid a bath

140❤️13💬

Beauty Queen 🕊🔵
@Aphrodite

It’s so cute… poor dear. Hope it gets to camp 💖

59K❤️ 804💬

Now that was a surprise. Aphrodite herself had commented. She hardly ever commented unless it was relationship updates or celebrity drama— maybe the odd fashion post here and there. The post had stirred up some controversy, it seemed. Apollo had originally thought it would be a few jokes over some godly forgetfulness, not a full-on social media battlefield.

Apollo agreed with most of the comments he found. If it had been his child, he would’ve taken them to camp half-blood himself after seeing them in such a state. He also agreed that the demigod was gross and needed a bath.

Some of the comments kept calling the half-blood ‘cute’. Which was a little ridiculous. Apollo wasn’t sure anyone had ever given so much affection to a subject that wasn’t him on his own social media account. It was a little annoying.

He bit back a sneer and flipped to the trending page.

1. Winter Solstice meeting

2. THANK YOU HERMES

3. party favors

4. community service

5. sculpture

6. Hercules busts heads season 4

Apollo’s eyes widened. Winter solstice meeting? Was that soon? He hadn’t even realized. It seems like it sneaks up on him quicker and quicker every year.

Whatever. He’d wanted to rehash the glass argument anyways.

Just as he was beginning to think of ideas for his talk segments and ways to disrupt Artemis’ segments, a ping sounded.

Gotta go fast🔵
@Hermesco

Are you taking that kid to chb?

DM from Hermes asking about the kid? Check. Apollo really should’ve seen that one coming. He was sure that half the demigods in the world must be Hermes’.

‘I had a feeling it was yours lol’ he typed back.

‘I’m not sure’ Hermes responded quickly, almost as soon as Apollo pressed send. ‘But I’ve got quite a few running around so not impossible.’ Apollo rolled his eyes. Hermes was his best friend, but sometimes he needed to relax his workload. Maybe then he’d be able to recognize his spawn.

‘We’ll see.’ Apollo closed the app.

Dammit. He had wanted to go to Hawaii after this.

——

Had it come down to this? Demigods were far too lucky these days. When Apollo was young, if a demigod wanted to get somewhere quick they’d run.

Apollo sighed. Maybe gods were coddling them too much. Perhaps less godly contact could help them become more capable? He should suggest that at the Winter Solstice meeting. It might help with the dependence being built up.

He couldn’t believe the outcry on his post. Demigods were meant to serve gods— not the other way around. He understood Hermes’ request, he might’ve done the same thing if it belonged to him, but random godlings and minor gods telling him to do so? What was the world coming to…

Just Apollo’s luck, when he visited the alleyway, the demigod wasn’t even there anymore. He supposed it was rational to move around when last night had been so dreary.

He threw up his hands in surrender. “At least I tried.” He stomped out of the alleyway, which still had rotting garbage strewn everywhere. “What a waste of time.”
——

Finally, after a whole two days of searching for Artemis’ beast, Apollo’s got the trail. The monster was close. He grinned to himself, pulling out his bow. He’s changed his mind since last time. He was in a hunting mood.

He sprinted down the street, vaulting off a parked taxicab, onto an Italian restaurant’s striped awning. Despite the late hour of the night, no one bats an eye at his chase. The Mist was an effective mortal annoyance repellent.

He kept up the chase until he ended up in a small park. He relaxed his shoulders, tilting his head back.

“Got it.” He told the moon.

He shot forward, bursting through a blockade of evergreen hedges. The light of the moon gave the dark world a silver hem, glittering and subtle— the opposite of his shining and attention-catching style.

His bow is drawn back and an arrow was notched before the monster can even react. It was just a gorgon, Apollo couldn't believe she had evaded him for so long.

“Farewell!” He said joyfully with a dramatic smile, letting his arrow loose.

She made a gurgling noise, maybe a plea, before the arrow embedded itself into her skull. The light from her yellow eyes dimmed. She fell to her knees(or the snake woman equivalent) and crumbled into dust, leaving only red stained talons behind.

Apollo looked at the talons, lip curling in disgust.

‘Gross.’

He would’ve continued off to somewhere with nicer weather and a better view of the upcoming sunrise, if not for a little squeaking noise.

His back was turned, but he could already tell who was behind him.

“You again?” He chuckled. “Good, I thought our mutual friend here might have killed you.” He turned, expecting some gratitude from the half-blood for saving his measly life.

The demigod stared at him, mouth slightly ajar, but eyes narrowed. He was still clutching those ridiculous scissors.

Apollo’s gaze hardened. “It is customary to give thanks upon having your diminutive life saved.” Diminutive was a great word. If Apollo was ever to write a poem about this half-blood, diminutive would be included. It seemed to describe everything about him— from his small stature to his life span— probably his brain too, judging by the way he still hadn't thanked Apollo.

The demigod took a step backward. The only thing keeping him from scoffing was that it was almost funny that the half-blood thought he could run.

“Well, whatever.” Apollo dismissed, pushing away his irritation. Do it for Hermes, do it for Hermes, do it for—“I got orders from your old man to bring you somewhere safe, capiche?”

The demigod shifted his weight, green eyes darting from side to side. “My… my father?” The half-blood’s voice was higher pitched than Apollo would have thought, and it shook like a leaf in the wind.

“Yes, your father. Try not to be slow.” Apollo clapped a hand down on his thin shoulder, ignoring the violent flinch. “The sooner we get out of here and get you to camp, the sooner I can do my important duties.” Such duties included flirting with that sunflower nymph that had caught his eye, but the demigod didn’t need to know that.

“Wait-“ the demigod tried.

Apollo whistled, pulling his phone and keys out of his pocket.

‘Got your stupid kid’ He quickly sent off to Hermes.

Like always, the response was instantaneous. ‘I’m not sure it’s mine.’ Followed directly by: ‘is it ok?’

‘Yeah he’s fine’ Apollo responded automatically, then paused.

He threw a glance down at the half-blood stuck in his other hand’s grip. He was shivering from the cold, and there were long straight cuts smudged with dirt along his left arm and thigh, probably from gorgon claws. Through a hole in his shirt, Apollo could make out dark purple bruises on his stomach. He had cuts all over his face, and dark red blood leaking from his nose. The fact that he was covered in dirt probably wouldn’t help fight infection either. His eyes were wide and his breath uneven, and he kept trying to pull away from the hand on his shoulder. Apollo gripped him tighter.

He was fine. He’d seen demigods with worse get up and walk away just fine.

A sparkle of red appeared in the sky, a bright speckle in the dark.

“Finally.” He remarked, holding the demigod with one hand and his keys in the other.

His flaming chariot, now in car mode, landed next to them. If the demigod had been struggling earlier, when he saw the car he became desperate, his heels digging into the ground to keep himself away.

He took those stupid scissors and stabbed them into Apollo’s wrist—only for them to bounce off his skin like he was made of steel. The demigod lets out a shuddering breath, green eyes slowly moving to meet his own. To Apollo’s exasperation, tears were beginning to form in the mortal’s eyes.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid. I just gotta get you somewhere safe.” He said, shaking his head in aggravation. “You understand me?” He gives the kid a gentle shake with the hand on his shoulder.

The demigod looked at him with wide teary eyes, before his face hardened with a suspicious glare.

“Whatever.” Apollo decided, pushing the demigod towards the red sports car. The demigod struggled, but Apollo couldn’t bring himself to care too much. Apollo threw him into the backseat, avoiding a knee to the crotch expertly. He was almost proud for not throwing the brat into the trunk after the way he acted.

The half-blood scrambled away from him desperately, lunging at the door on the other side. Apollo scoffed, slamming the door on his side. “It’s locked!” He told the boy, hopping into his seat.

After adjusting his seat, making sure the radio was on, and turning the seat heater on, he adjusted the rearview mirror to get a better look at the kid.

His face was hidden behind his hair. He hugged his legs and curled into a ball. In the mirror, the demigod looked tiny—no, diminutive– that was the word Apollo had used, on the leather seats.

He looked so pathetic that Apollo couldn’t help but echo Aphrodite’s statement. ‘Poor thing…’

“Hey, kid,” Apollo said, making sure his voice sounded a little softer. “It’s for your own good. Camp has all sorts of people that are just like you. You’ll make good friends, meet your siblings… maybe you’ll even get to go on a quest.”

The demigod tilted his head upwards, revealing one green eye, visible underneath his dark hair.

“O…okay.” He said nervously, and Apollo was taken aback at how squeaky his voice was.

“How old are you?” He asked, tilting his rearview mirror for a better view of the half-blood.

After a long moment, Apollo thought the demigod wouldn't respond, which would've been very irritating. Irritating enough to send a prerequisite sorry for turning Hermes’ probably son into a salamander.

“Twelve.” The demigod answered, sniffling.

“And your name?”

The demigod paused again, and Apollo wanted to tell him that he didn’t have all day. “Sal.” He said, glancing away.

Apollo registered the lie, narrowing his eyes at the creature that would dare lie to the god of truths. Still… he supposed if he was a child of lies, it would make sense for him to do just that.

“Alright, ‘Sal’. I’ll get your real name out of you soon enough.”

Chapter Text

If Apollo’s day wasn’t already perfect enough, the chariot of the sun being attacked by harpies was the icing on the cake.

“Are you insane?!” He yelled out of his rolled-down window. “You dare attack the sun chariot?!” The harpies cawed at him, one unlucky one slamming into his front window, swept away by his windshield wipers.

He whirled his head around to glare at the demigod. “You.” He spat. “Make yourself useful and take care of them!”

The demigod squinted at him like he was a particularly difficult text to read.

Apollo resisted the urge to tear at his beautiful hair. He had been trying a new shampoo lately, and it made his hair nice and shiny.

“Demigod.” He forced out, pointing a finger at ‘Sal’. “Monster. Take. care. of it .” His hands were white-knuckled on his steering wheel. The great Apollo, how far he’d fallen. He’d surely be writing Hermes a cross haiku after this whole fiasco.

The half-blood made a noise in the back, and then there were shuffling noises. He let out a little yelp when Apollo veered sharply to the right, avoiding a flying cluster of harpies.

The wind whipped in from the back when the demigod slid open the window.

Apollo expected an epic battle to ensue. Perhaps a grand show of divine speed— the demigod hopping onto a harpy’s back and using it to kill its sisters. Instead, the kid stuck his head out the window, still holding his scissors (Apollo was beginning to think they were more like a security blanket than a weapon).

“Uh… go away!” The demigod called uncertainly.

Apollo resisted the urge to face plant on his steering wheel.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled back, the wind obscuring his voice.

The demigod threw his arms out wide. “What am I supposed to do!?” He yelled back, a smidge of irritation in his voice.

“Do not take that tone of voice with me—“ Apollo stopped himself, for he had started to sound disturbingly like his father. “ Kill them! ”

“ How ?!” The demigod demanded, voice pitching.

“For the love of -“ Apollo is interrupted when the fattest harpy he’d ever seen rams the back of the car.

The demigod went flying forward, colliding with the front passenger’s seat with a squeak. Apollo slammed on the brakes to avoid flying out of control. The car spun, out of control in a downward spiral. The trunk smoked, signifying an expensive injury.

Needless to say, the landing was not pleasant. A small grove of trees in upstate New York was leveled, and the formerly brown grass from not enough snow was turned black and ash covered.

Apollo stared ahead blankly, in his smoke-filled deluxe sports car. Had that just happened? Not even the sound of the demigod coughing could rip him from his trance.

His reflection stared back at him, split into pieces by the cracks on his windshield. His eyes were golden and wide, blonde hair disheveled. There was a thin line of ichor running from his cheek. Apollo watched, watched as his reflection’s lips curled into an ugly sneer. His hands shook with divine rage.

He slammed the car door shut, stomping over to the backseat entrance. He felt his ichor pumping in his ears, anger making his blood run hot.

The stupid kid— the kid that had gotten him into this whole mess— coughed pathetically. His eyes were closed, squeezed shut to protect against the smoke.

“Mama?” He whispered, completely delirious.

“Guess again.” Apollo sneered, metaphorical steam coming out of his ears.

Once he’d successfully dragged the kid out of the car by his ruined shirt, the kid shook himself back to awareness.

“What’s going on?” He dared to ask.

“What’s going on?” Apollo repeated hollowly. “What’s going on, is that you didn’t take care of the harpies, so my car has to get taken to the shop! Do you even know how much Hephaestus charges for sun chariot repairs? Do you?!” Apollo felt like a rabid dog. He wanted this idiot demigod torn to shreds.

The demigod, instead of pleading for forgiveness like anyone with a brain larger than a pea, just glared back at him. “What was I sposed’ to do?” He asked.

“You were supposed to kill the harpies!”

“How?”

“With your- with…” Apollo paused. Did the demigod have a weapon that could kill harpies? He shook his head. It didn’t matter either way. The boy was a demigod, demigods were meant to kill monsters. “You should’ve been able to kill them.” He said instead.

The demigod averted his eyes and began to glare at the ground, saying nothing. Thinking.

“If you wanted them gone…” the half-blood said, voice low. “Why didn’t you just kill them yourself ?” The demigod’s face had flushed at his announcement, and his eyes had narrowed. The words rang through the air, his blame pointing at Apollo like a bright neon sign.

Silence.

Apollo must have heard the half-blood incorrectly. There’s no way that a demigod, who knew his identity, would speak to him in such a manner. But no matter how many times he repeated the words in his head, the more the meaning becomes clear. And the angrier Apollo became.

Apollo felt his face contort, staring at the suicidal demigod with glowing gold eyes. Then the clearing exploded.

“ You must have lost your mind, halfling! ” Apollo laughed, the clearing glowing with his divine power. Leaves and chunks of grass whipped by him, forcing the young demigod to shield his face.

The half-blood stumbled back, blinded in the wind.

He didn’t make it far before Apollo grasped the front of his shirt and lifted him into the air by the front of his collar.

“ Oh, don’t worry… ” he said with false kindness. He can see terror coursing through those big green eyes. Good. “ I’ll make sure you're a good flower. ”

He lifted a glowing hand, reveling in the way the demigod squirmed and cried out.

~

Here comes the sun ~ doo doo doo ~ here comes the sun ~ and I say ~

Apollo stopped his hand right in front of the twitching demigod. Apollo groaned, digging into his pocket with his free hand. Always the worst timing. He tugged his phone out and swung it open. He didn’t bother checking the ID. Anyone who knew this number wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.

“Hey, it’s Apollo, the sun god.” He answered amicably. The demigod yanked at the arm holding him, trying to wrench it away. He must have dropped his scissors somewhere.

“Sup’ how’s it going?” Hermes responded from the other line. Apollo bit down on his lip. He hoped for his own sake that the call wasn’t about—“Mind if I talk to the kid?” Apollo inwardly groaned.

“Hermes! Great to hear ya, buddy.” Apollo said merrily, accidentally bouncing the demigod with his gesturing. “Unfortunately, looks like junior is asleep right now… too bad.” He glared at the demigod, willing him to stay quiet.

No luck.

“He tried to turn me into a flower!” ‘Sal’ yelled, sounding distinctly pathetic.

Shit. Apollo shook the demigod up and down for some minor revenge and laughed into the phone. “Aww, so cute! Sleep talking!”

Hermes was silent on the other line, but Apollo got the impression he was making that unimpressed face he made when spirits delivered packages wrong.

“…Apollo.” He said. He had the same voice his father used on him and Artemis when they had broken a fancy vase a few thousand years ago.

“Okay, gods. I’m sorry, but he’s…” he glanced at the demigod and abruptly dropped him. The demigod landed with a small noise. “Really annoying.” Apollo finished, ignoring the half-blood glaring at him.

“Is that my dad?” ‘Sal’ asked.

Hermes laughed on the other line. “Just because my kids are more fun than yours doesn’t mean they’re annoying.” Apollo curled his lip. Sure, Hermes, sure. “Let me speak to him.”

Apollo frowned. “Hermes-“ he started.

“I know, I know. But I don’t know for sure so it’s okay.” Hermes reasoned. Apollo’s frown didn’t drop, but he supposed it would be Hermes in trouble and not him if they were discovered so he let it be.

He held out his phone, then yanked it away from the demigod’s hands. “Don’t. Break it.” He snapped.

The demigod’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t respond. Apollo gave him the phone with a sigh.

“Are you my dad?” The demigod asked right off the bat. Apollo huffed. So much for tact. To be fair, most demigods weren’t the bantering type.

He heard muffled laughter from the phone. “Slow down there, champ.” Hermes was so well-natured with the half-blood. Apollo couldn’t stand the impertinence.

Hm. Impertinent . That was another good word for the demigod.

“Why don’t we start with names, okay?”

The demigod froze, giving Apollo a suspicious side-eye.

“Okay…” he whispered to the phone.

“I’m Hermes, god of travelers and thieves. I run the postal service.” He said, and Apollo could hear his warm smile through his phone.

The demigod clutched the phone close to his face. “I’m Percy… I like the color blue.” The demigod—Percy, whispered to the phone.

The sun god scoffed, an ugly feeling rearing inside him.

“I’m sorry, Percy, I’m not sure I recognize you.” Hermes’ electronic voice fizzled through the phone. Percy’s face split. He looked miserable—like Hermes had appeared in front of him and kicked his puppy.

Confusion battled his anger. What’s the big deal? He tried to rationalize it to himself. If Zeus didn’t recognize him… he supposed that would feel shitty.

“It’s… okay,” Percy said.

It looked like Percy was not okay, in Apollo’s professional opinion.

“Good, I’m glad!” Hermes said. Apollo wanted to shake his friend. For the god of lies, he sure sucked at detecting them.

“I know you’re probably confused. I asked Apollo to take you to camp. He’s a good friend of mine. He might be a little scary, but he won’t harm you.” Hermes’ voice sounded tinny through the phone speakers. “Right, Apollo?” There was a hint of accusation in the tone that Apollo wasn’t fond of.

He nodded — then realized Hermes couldn’t see him nod, grunted a simple yes. Percy looked at him critically, not dissimilar to the way Asclepius would look at mortals needing surgery. Calculating, analyzing. He’s not sure why such a young boy would’ve developed such a skill.

“What is camp..?” Percy’s voice did not match his expression. His face was still critical, not taking his eyes off Apollo. His voice sounded lost and small like he had just been told something horrible and he was struggling to find a response.

“Camp is where demigods can go to learn how to be civilized and defend themselves,” Hermes explained. “Don’t worry, you’ll love it. All demigods love it there. It’s their home.”

Percy didn’t look convinced.

“You’ll live with your siblings, eat good food, sing at the campfire. My son—your brother, well, one of them, can help you out. He’s the camp counselor of my cabin. He’ll make sure you’re well adjusted.” Apollo can hear Hermes’ soft smile through his words.

“Father… did you… did you see where I was before?” Percy clutched the phone tight enough to make Apollo wince. His car was already wrecked, please not his phone.

Hermes was quiet for a long moment. “What do you mean?” He said finally.

“Did you see, what… what happened to me? Before I met Apollo?” Percy asked desperately. Apollo felt his eye twitch at the casual ‘Apollo’. What was the demigod prattling about now? Did he seriously expect a god to watch his dirty alley exploits? Apollo thinks not.

“I’m sorry, kid. I don’t know.” Percy bit down on his lip, making a confusing expression. Apollo couldn’t make out if he was relieved or hurt by that information. “It’s not because of you,” Hermes assured. “It’s because I’m so busy, I can’t find time to check up on everyone.”

The excuse sounded hollow, even to Apollo.

Percy made a muffled choking noise, hiding his eyes behind his hair again. “It’s okay.” He said again.

Apollo rolled his eyes, looking away. The ugly feeling in his chest roared. He didn’t treat his children like this, did he? No, he was sure he didn’t. He couldn’t have done something like this, Hermes was just too busy to connect with his children. All his kids loved him, he was sure.

He couldn’t take any more of this conversation.

He took the phone from Percy, who let it go without a fight.

“—But anyway, some things you may encounter with—“ Hermes was saying.

“Hermes! I am leaving with the kid!” Apollo announced and pressed the red button before Hermes could even respond. He normally had a soft spot for his best friend but watching the interaction between him and his kid drained him of some of his tolerance.

He glanced back at the kid, who seemed to be having a staring contest with his beat-up sneakers.

“Come on,” Apollo ordered. Normally his speech was less brutish, but the night had been draining. Maybe Hermes will treat him to a spa day after this chore.

Percy followed him with his eyes but did not follow him with his feet. Apollo wanted to tear at his hair.

“What is it now?” He couldn’t even find the energy to truly be annoyed. Mild exasperation maybe. The boy had worn him down. He’d begun to expect resistance from him.

“Are you gonna turn me into a flower?” Percy asked, green eyes staring into his soul. Where had he gotten those big green eyes from? Not from Hermes, that’s for sure. Apollo would remember a look like that.

He wonders what the mortal parent of the demigod had been like, for their child to come out like this. Diminutive, impertinent…

Apollo ran a hand down his face, almost too worn to make sure his golden hair was tousled stylishly by it. Almost. “No.” He decided. “I’d like to avoid an earful from your old man if I can help it. Let’s just get you to be camp and be done with this.”

Percy narrowed his eyes for a second longer but nodded after a minute. It occurred to Apollo that Percy wanted to be rid of him as much as Apollo wanted him. A tiny bit offensive, but at this point, he shook it off. He was uncivilized after all. He’d learn.

He clapped a hand on Percy’s shoulder, politely ignoring his violent flinch.

He flashed them away in a spray of golden light.

Chapter Text

The second his grip loosened, Percy darted away.

“This is it?” Percy spun, getting a full view of his surroundings.

“Yes, and I must say, it hasn’t been a pleasure, but I, the gracious Apollo will not smite you for your actions,” Apollo said, in what he thought was an incredibly forgiving manner. He even managed a signature smile. He was just so glad to finally be done with—

“Where?” Percy ignored his grand gesture of goodwill, still trouncing about like the little vagabond he was.

Apollo gritted his teeth. Did this foolish boy need help with everything? How had he survived twelve years without divine intervention? He knew Hermes wasn’t a present father.

“It’s right th —“ Apollo pointed, only to see it was not, in fact, right there. “Is this Maine?” He scratched his head. Whoops. He’d meant to go to Long Island. Must’ve gotten sidetracked. “Once more.” He grabbed Percy again, to the demigod’s displeasure.

As much as Apollo hated to admit it, his powers had been on the fritz for the last decade or so. It certainly didn’t help that he hadn’t teleported with another person in centuries— it tended to be a little more difficult than turning into light and willing himself to be somewhere.

“There!” Apollo announced. “We are here— oh wait. This is Massachusetts.”

“What tipped you off?” The demigod snarked, standing directly under a ‘Welcome to Massachusetts!’ sign.

That was odd. He hadn’t been thinking of Massachusetts. He certainly didn’t want to go to Massachusetts.

He… could still teleport the demigod there… hopefully.

Again.

“New Hampshire?”

“Maine, again.”

“I think this is Connecticut…”

Apollo stared at the skyline blankly. Surely, his powers weren’t that rusty? What was going on?

Percy wrinkled his nose judgmentally.

Weirdly enough, he heard the demigod starting to sniff at the air. Apollo had half a mind to ask if he wanted a dog treat.

Percy stopped his sniffing with a sharp intake. “Are we by the ocean?”

Apollo furrowed his brow. Curiously, he sniffed the air as well. He didn’t smell anything.

“I believe… we are in Nova Scotia.” He answered. “How did you know that?”

Percy shrugged. “It smells like salt.” He said simply.

Apollo looked over the demigod. He didn’t look like Hermes, not really anyway. He wondered if it was possible… that Percy belonged to someone different. He shook the thought from his mind. He didn’t like the implications of that, so he ignored them.

“Once more.” Apollo decided, nabbing the demigod who’d begun to inch away.

The demigod did not seem surprised that they ended up in Maine yet again. To Percy’s credit, he didn’t seem displeased, tilting his head to drink in his surroundings.

“We’re by the coast,” Percy said.

How Percy could tell, Apollo did not know. They stood in a pine forest clearing, the ground muddy from melted snow runoff. The wind carried a rather chilly breeze that had Percy draw his arms across himself. Nothing about the area signified anything relating to the ocean.

Apollo stared at Percy, looking right into his green eyes. Green like the waters of the ocean.

Percy frowned at him. “Ow.” He said slowly.

Apollo abruptly realized he was squeezing Percy’s wrist tight enough to leave marks. He let go hastily, wrenching his hand back with a scoff.

“I cannot bring you to camp,” Apollo announced, turning on his heel and showing the half-blood his back.

He heard an odd shuffling noise and some rustling but no response.

“…because,” he began, his brain bouncing around ideas like a game of pong. He couldn’t admit to Percy that he couldn’t figure out how to. To have to tell a lower life form such a thing…. Mortifying. “It is not worth my time.” He decided.

The demigod snorted. Apollo whipped his head around, face curled into a snarl.

“You dare—“

“Because you can’t, more like,” Percy said, watching him with defiant eyes. There was a hint of something in his expression— something unidentifiable to Apollo.

Apollo glared and then faked lunging forward. It was a little gratifying seeing the demigod squeak back but not enough to quell his irritation.

“I could take you!” Apollo insisted, crossing his arms. “I could take you whenever I want. But you have been nothing but rude to me, so I refuse!” Apollo sniffed, turning his head up.

Percy muttered something Apollo couldn’t hear.

“Speak up!” He ordered.

“So what now?” Percy asked, and Apollo knew that definitely wasn’t what he had said by the fake innocent face.

Apollo furrowed his brow.

“Where do we go now?” Percy asked slower. He was gaining a new sort of air to him. A sort of fidgetiness.

Apollo put a hand to his chin. “I suppose… I go back to Olympus.” He said.

There was a moment of silence. Percy’s eyes were wide, not unlike when Apollo uncovered him in the alley (and just as pungent).

“With—with me?” Percy asked, deciding to have a staring contest with his shoes.

Apollo frowned at him, flicking his view over Percy’s filthy appearance. He imagined the pristinely painted statues and ornate carvings at Olympus— the flowing robes and the perfect smiling faces of the divine. He thought about Percy’s crusty rags and tousled hair, smeared with dried mud, monster dust, and the red blood of mortality.

“I don’t think so,” Apollo cringed.

Percy’s eyes go even wider, reminding Apollo of the full moon. His lip upturned, and his eyes turned glassy. His recovered scissors were clutched in his hands like a teddy bear.

Then, a dark expression flickered over his face. Apollo had no warning before he lunged.

Percy pounded his fist on Apollo’s stomach. It did not hurt.

“You can’t! You big jerk! How could you just kidnap me and leave me in the middle of—“ Percy’s eyes, full of tears, dart around the area. “I don’t even know where!” A deep sob wracked his body as he pounded another fist down. Apollo watched him, mouth slightly ajar.

“Percy,” he managed, not quite sure what to say. Discomfort settled in his shoulder, especially at the sight of the demigod touching him. It was kind of gross. “Calm yourself!” He demanded, trying to regain some composure.

Percy looked even more emotional at his words, his tears free-flowing and his chest heaving. He tried to back away but slipped in the mud, face-planting onto Apollo’s shirt.

Apollo gasped, half in disgust half in annoyance. Percy shoved himself off of Apollo, and Apollo watched in horror as he wiped his face.

He looked down at his shirt, looking at the snotty, tear-stained mess Percy had left.

“Percy!” He yelled, certain his face was as red as his totaled car.

Percy paid him no mind, stomping away.

“Where are you going, you moronic creature?” Apollo bit back an undignified groan. This demigod’s antics were just too much to keep up with.

“I guess I’m gonna go live in the woods with all the other creatures!” Percy’s hands went up with his exclamation as he continued to stomp away.

“You are being absolutely ridiculous.” Apollo sneered, stalking after him.

Percy picked up a large stick and propped it against a tree.

“What is this?” Apollo gestured to the stick and tree. It sort of reminded him of a modern art exhibition he’d gone to a few years ago.

“My new home,” Percy said through gritted teeth.

Apollo ran a hand down his face. “You’re not serious.”

Percy glared at him, and propped another stick against the tree.

“You’re going to live out in the woods because of what, a stubbornness issue?” Apollo scoffed.

“Stubborn— You dropped me in the middle of nowhere! You are the textbook definition of a kidnapper! What am I supposed to do!?” Percy shouted, his little hands clenched into fists. It would’ve been a little more intimidating if Percy wasn’t still crying his eyes out. “Just go away!”

Apollo stared at the sorry state the demigod was in, pity forming. “I told your father—“

“Told him what? You were gonna leave me and go back to buttwad land or wherever you came from?” Percy cried.

Apollo repeated the words ‘buttwad land’ in his head. “…No,” he clenched his teeth, holding his hands in tight fists to keep himself from atomizing the half-blood. “That I…” he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “That I’d take you to camp.” He admitted.

“Yeah,” Percy grunted. “I was there.”

There was a beat of silence.

“So I will…” Apollo inwardly groaned. “Bring you to camp.”

He reached for Percy, who darted backward, into the pine.

“No!” Percy squeaked, now a safe ten feet away. At least he wouldn’t fall on Apollo’s shirt again.

“I don’t understand. I’m doing what you want me to do!” Apollo growled in frustration.

“How do I know you aren’t gonna just teleport me somewhere and leave me?” The half-blood spat.

Apollo rolled his eyes. “Because I won’t.”

The demigod crossed his arms.

“I am the god of truths, boy. I am not lying to you.”

“How do I know you’re not lying about being the god of truths?” The demigod retorted.

“Because—“ Apollo started. He trailed off. He… didn’t have a good argument against that. “You. Are infuriating.” He said instead.

Percy shrugged. It probably wasn’t the first time he’d been told that.

“Fine!” Apollo threw his hands up in surrender. “You win! We’ll take a stupid, inferior, mortal car! Is that okay, your royal half-highness?” He said, his voice soaked with sarcasm.

Percy regarded him like he was gum beneath his shoe.

Apollo glared up at the sky, wondering if someone had cursed his week to be full of misery. He whipped out his phone, startling at his bedraggled expression in the reflection. This would not do. He smoothed over his face with his hand and willed his hair to become shiny once more. After that was taken care of, he opened up his messaging app.

‘ gonna take your kid for a little longer, ’ He sent Hermes.

‘ wdym? ’ Hermes responded almost as soon as his finger pressed the send button. Gotta love the response time.

Apollo let the phone send the read receipt but did not respond. It’s a fun thing he liked to do sometimes. Mostly to Athena, because it made her livid at the council meetings.

It was wet and gross and muddy, half-melted snow soaked with mud— Apollo would rather be in the Bahamas, would rather be in Hawaii. He still turned around and waved his arm for the kid to follow.

He glowered at Apollo, and for a second glanced back at his ‘house’(read: two sticks leaning on a tree). After a moment, he trudged after the god, maintaining a safe distance.

Apollo stomped towards where he hoped a town was. “This is going to be the longest road trip of my life.”

Chapter Text

Olympus was bustling, even busier than it normally was. With the solstice coming soon, everyone was rushing to get last-minute tasks done. Including Apollo. He had to finish his proposals, consult with the muses, and coordinate with Dionysus about the after-party.

So, of course, he was interrupted by one of the few people he couldn’t easily dismiss. Why wouldn’t he be? Gods, he wished he could catch a break.

“Apollo,” the King of the Sea greeted him. His expression seemed rather dull, and even his smile lines appeared less prominent.

Normally, Apollo would stay and chat, but the portion of his consciousness that Poseidon was trying to talk to was busy with godly business. He was supposed to meet the muses in twenty and they would annoy the hades out of him if he was even a moment late.

Poseidon had positioned himself directly in front of him, right in the direction Apollo needed to go. Apollo’s eye twitched.

“Heya, Uncle P!” He greeted, forcing his easygoing nature to resurface.

Something pinged in his mind, and he felt some of his concentration leave him.

Back in Maine, Percy bolted away, into an open house at some small middle school. This was followed by Apollo swearing and stumbling after him. Him. Stumbling. What was the world coming to? It must have been a side effect of using two different parts of his consciousness. That was what he got for putting in the work.

Poseidon looked him up and down, eyes critical in a way that seemed very familiar.

Apollo glanced from side to side. A few nymphs chittered, dancing around them curiously. The street formed a wide berth around them, outsiders outright staring at the impromptu conversation.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I am kind of doing something right now—“ Apollo tried, speaking quickly.

Poseidon put a hand on his shoulder, steering him away from the crowd. “Let’s talk.” He said, voice a low monotone.

He caught sight of Percy’s ratty sneakers disappearing into a classroom with the name plaque labeled Miss Matsuda. Apollo felt a multi-conscious headache coming on.

Poseidon led him to an empty fountain area, the vibrant greenery creating an effective privacy screen. Apollo pinched the bridge of his nose. The one time he was actually working Poseidon was gonna try and kill him.

“I was wondering if you’d found anything belonging to me?” Poseidon asked, eyes cold as the northern sea.

“Sir!” Miss Matsuda admonished. “Please do not grab your child in that way!”

Apollo dropped Percy’s arm, from where he’d been trying to wrench him out of the doorway.

“I am so sorry.” Apollo carefully enunciated, pointedly not glaring at where Percy had run over to the complimentary snacks table. “He’s not normally like this, we’re just having a rough day.” He assured, doing his best to look like he was a disgruntled father. He subtly altered his appearance to one he’d take more with his demigod children.

Miss Matsuda did not look impressed.

Poseidon mirrored that expression the longer Apollo stayed silent. Have you ever had two in-person conversations simultaneously? It wasn’t impossible, especially for someone as talented as Apollo, but it was hard to focus on one line of thought.

“What did you lose?” Apollo asked, massaging his temples.

Poseidon hesitated, shifting his weight uncertainly. It was odd to see someone as old as Poseidon look so unsure. “A… sacred beast of mine. Perhaps you can sympathize?”

Apollo smiled, the urge to cuss out the King of the sea rising as fast as the ocean levels. The dig at his sacred cows was expected, but nonetheless unwelcome.

“I haven’t seen any sea monsters around, uncle. Sorry. Now, if there isn’t anything else I really must be going.” Apollo stressed, stepping away from the fountain.

Miss Matsuda stepped in front of him on his way to throttle the idiot demigod. Perhaps she could sense his murderous intent.

“What class is your son in?” Her face was sharp. “Maybe I can help you find your way.”

Apollo’s mind whirled trying to remember any of the colorful nameplates outside the classroom doors.

“I believe he’s in Mrs. Fox’s class,” Apollo said. He hadn’t looked at anyone else’s name tag. That particular teacher had some eye-catching illustrations plastered on her door. Apollo had wondered if she’d drawn them herself or bought them off a local artist.

Miss. Matsuda’s eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between him and Percy. “Mrs. Fox… the kindergarten class?”

‘Oh shit,’ Apollo thought. ‘She got me.’

Percy decided to spontaneously reappear at that moment. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I know my ABCs and everything.” He said helpfully.

Apollo smiled lovingly at Percy. He was going to murder him.

Miss Matsuda continued to frown. “Young man, you are not in the kindergarten class.”

Percy shook his head. “Just transferred in. I just got adopted and moved here.”

Apollo subtly glared at Percy. ‘Stop talking’ he tried to say with his facial expression. Percy smiled at him, the glint in his eyes wicked.

Miss Matsuda blinked, looking off-put. “Adopted?” She repeated, examining Apollo’s features. Apollo turned just so, so she’d get his good side(not that he had a bad side, mind you).

“H—it’s not a sea monster.” Poseidon stopped him in his tracks. He held his trident now. Apollo hadn’t seen him pull it out.

“Yeah!” Percy smiled at Apollo, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “He took me from New York City, put me in his car, and brought me here!”

“It’s little…” Poseidon’s face softened, his grip on his trident relaxing. He made a curled motion with his hand like the sacred beast could fit in his hand. “Harmless.”

Miss Matsuda’s frown deepened. “Took… you?” She repeated.

“I was just walking around one day,” Percy gestured with his hands like the overexcited twelve-year-old he was. “—and Apollo came and shoved me in his car and drove me to Maine! He said he’s gonna take me to a camp with a lot more kids.”

The teacher’s mouth dropped open. Apollo’s heart leaped to his throat. He laughed nervously. “He’s joking around, Miss. That… didn’t… happen.” His fingers twitched at the lie, and it must have shown in his face because Miss Matsuda’s went carefully blank.

“Just a little thing,” Poseidon repeated, and Apollo almost felt bad for him. It sounded like he cared about the beast, whatever it was. The only thing that kept him from feeling bad was that he knew Poseidon would take it out on everyone else. When stuff he was protective of went missing or got hurt, he tended to react harshly.

(No one say Polyphemus, no one say Hallirhothios, no one—)

“Maybe Hermes stole it,” Apollo suggested, throwing his friend under the bus. He deserved it, after this whole ordeal. “He does have a thing for stealing sacred beasts.”

Poseidon stiffened at the word ‘stole’, and then further at ‘Hermes’. “You’re… right. He- it could’ve been stolen. I didn’t even…” Poseidon trailed off. Apollo suddenly felt nauseous, like he had said something he shouldn’t have.

Back in Maine, Apollo reached out, grabbed Percy’s arm, and sprinted out the classroom door. He nearly kicked three small children, and almost kneed a little girl in the face, but he kept running. Running further and further away from Miss Matsuda screaming for someone to call the police.

They raced past a bake sale table, swamped by eleven-year-old girls. They scream and giggle as the two of them dashed by. Percy somehow snatched a chocolate chip cookie with his one free hand.

A quartet of fourth graders wheezed on their plastic recorders, making Apollo’s splitting headache intensify. He snapped his fingers and they began to perfectly play Ode to Joy, a stark contrast to the hot crossed buns song they had been attempting pathetically. Several parents gasped, holding their hands to their mouths in shock.

“That’s my kid!” A parent pointed to a ginger girl doing an advanced sub-melody.

Apollo ducked by the newly forming crowd of parents and winked at the flustered music teacher. He wasn’t too bad on the eyes… maybe Apollo should visit him after all this.

Apollo and Percy practically flew out the back door, dashing into the woods behind the playground. Percy, the little monster, giggled when a tree branch smacked Apollo on the nose.

Poseidon’s face was thoughtful and stormy simultaneously. “You said you think Hermes took it?”

Apollo hit the mental brakes. “Woah, woah! I didn’t imply anyone ‘did it’. Did you check the Bermuda Triangle? Maybe it got lost there.” He reasoned. He really didn’t want a throwaway comment to be the start of a war.

Poseidon’s sent him a puzzled expression. “The Bermuda Triangle?”

“Yes,” Apollo’s mind raced. “All of your creations seem to end up there at one point or another, check there before you accuse anyone. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if your dolphin— or whatever it is— is just swimming around!”

Poseidon looked unconvinced, but Apollo knew he’d take his advice to heart. Whenever his pride was at stake Poseidon listened.

“Alright then,” Poseidon nodded, his usual smile reappearing on his face. It looked real, but Apollo knew it wasn’t. He clapped a hand down on Apollo’s shoulder. “Thanks for the help.” He leaned in closer. “And if I find out you’re hiding anything…” he let the sentence die naturally, his low voice sending chills up his spine.

Apollo nodded quickly, making a hurried thumbs up. “Nothing to hide here Uncle!” He assured.

Percy stood in front of him, pulling at Apollo’s disgusting shirt, still stained with half-blood snot. Being in another body put your own in perspective.

Apollo blinked at him. “Why are you crying?” The demigod wasn’t actually crying but did look remarkably distressed for someone with chocolate chip cookie on their cheeks. What the hell had he missed? He didn’t pay attention for two seconds and the demigod somehow gets into more trouble.

“You… you weren’t answering. I thought you...” Percy said, his face crumpled like a poorly made scone.

Apollo rolled his eyes. “I was focused on something else, I didn’t... whatever you think happened to me. Don’t be ridiculous.” A wave of anger came over him. “And don’t you pretend to be concerned over me— You tried to send me to jail for kidnapping!”

Percy’s face went blank. “You did kidnap me though.”

Apollo sputtered. “That’s beside the point. And no, I didn’t!”

Percy’s face broke again, this time in amusement. The little shit was laughing at him! Again!

“I got you a recorder.” Percy offered, still smiling. He had a gap between his two front teeth.

Apollo's mind skittered to a halt. “You,” he said. “You what?”

Percy looked up at him shyly, presenting him with a blue plastic recorder. “Hermes is the god of thieves, so I just.” He gestured to the recorder. “And you’re the god of music.” He told Apollo.

‘Wow, really?’ Apollo thought sarcastically.

Percy shook the recorder motioning for him to take it. Apollo reached out and closed his hand around it. It was oddly touching that Percy had thought of him while robbing a middle school.

“You stole this?” Apollo traced the offering with his finger.

Percy frowned at it. “I got caught.” He said morosely. “A lady yelled at me and I ran away. I wasn’t good at stealing.”

Apollo nodded. “Well, not all Hermes kids are good at stealing, just like not all my children are good at archery.” He had so many divine talents that his mortal children normally inherited only one or two.

Percy’s frown deepened further. “You have kids?”

Right. He supposed it might be a little odd to Percy that he’d also fathered demigods.

“I’ve had many children.” Apollo tried to find the best way to explain it.

“That means someone had to kiss you.” Percy’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

Apollo recoiled. “E—excuse me?” His voice turned shrill.

“Bleh,” Percy stuck his tongue out.

Apollo stared at the sky.

‘Find your happy place find your happy place find your happy place.’ He took a deep, steadying breath.

“We are finding a hotel,” Apollo announced. “We are going to stay there. Tomorrow, we are finding the nearest bus and you are riding it to Long Island. Got it?” His tone was short and choppy.

Percy stared at him, pinching his lips closed to keep himself from smiling.

“Great!” Apollo said with faux enthusiasm. He threw his hands up in the air, still holding the stolen blue recorder.

Chapter Text

Apollo stared at the ugly popcorn ceiling in dismay. The hotel was not only not five stars, it wasn’t even four stars. How the mighty had fallen.

He yawned, stretching his back on his lumpy bed. He shifted around uncomfortably until his eyes landed on the gleaming blue recorder. He traced the recorder up and down, lightly blowing air through the nozzle. A single pure note played.

Something moved in his peripheral. He saw the demigod perk up from his spot in the corner, watching him play. He felt a smug sensation at the acknowledgment of his talent.

“Can you play Thunderstruck?” Percy asked, souring his satisfaction.

He drummed his fingers on the side of the recorder, considering.

Apollo sighed into the first note. It’s an easy song to play for him at this point— he must’ve been requested to play Thunderstruck a million times. Mostly on the guitar, sometimes on the bass. A few times on the piano. One memorable time on the saxophone.

The beat was fast-paced, forcing his fingers to quickly hop from one position to another. It was honestly… kind of challenging.

Percy stood as he blew the last note, clapping enthusiastically. Apollo felt a rush of euphoria at the encouragement.

‘Even the most idiotic can acknowledge my talent.’ He thought smugly.

“How’d you do that?” Percy asked, kneeling on the ground beside Apollo’s bed.

“I’m that good— Get your disgusting little fingers off my blankets,” Apollo growled, swiping his hands at Percy’s, who’d rested his grimy hands on the edge of Apollo’s mattress.

Percy put his hands up in surrender. Apollo could see his grime-covered arms were covered with scratches and cuts.

‘Hera‘s tits… aren’t demigods supposed to be fast healers or something?’ He thought spitefully. ‘I think this one is defective.’

“Go wash your hands and arms before you get yourself an infection,” Apollo ordered, throwing an arm over his eyes. His recorder sat on his left side. “If you don’t already have one…” he groaned.

“….”

“Now, Percy.”

There’s some muffled grumbling but the demigod shuffled away. The bathroom door squeaked shut and the muted burble of a faucet sounded.

Now he was alone.

He could think.

Demigods don’t always take after their parents. Most of them don’t receive all the abilities of their divine progenitor. Percy was nothing like Hermes, aside from his (unsuccessful) impromptu running away, he’d shown no sign he could be related.

The eyes were another thing. The sparkling green color, like sunlight on the ocean. They reminded Apollo of a certain someone.

That’s right… Rhea.

He supposed it was possible he could have inherited them from his great-grandma… but again, Apollo had never seen such a thing from demigods.

Leading into two from one, the demigod was utterly useless.

He wasn’t powerful demigod material. His powerful aura threw Apollo off for a moment, but the harpy battle showed his true abilities. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

Just Apollo’s luck to get stuck with a demigod who didn’t know how to demigod.

With that thought, the door to the bathroom swung open. Percy trotted to the bed, putting out his arms for inspection.

Apollo let out a long-suffering sigh, sitting up and stretching. He summoned a dab of rubbing alcohol and pulled Percy closer to apply it to his scratches.

Strangely, Percy’s left arm was bare. Apollo furrowed his brow. He grabbed Percy’s right and surmised that it was also empty of talon marks and bruises.

“Did you… heal your scratches?” Apollo asked incredulously, loosening his grip on Percy’s forearm. Percy tilted his head slightly. Even when Apollo was sitting down on the bed the demigod only came up to below his chin.

“What scratches?” Percy asked innocently.

Apollo studied his face for a moment longer, not finding any sense of deception. Perhaps the scratches had just been streaks of dirt? Or maybe demigods did heal quickly at random intervals?

Weird.

Percy picked up the recorder, spinning it in his hands. “Can we go out?”

“Absolutely not,” Apollo replied instantaneously. “You are not leaving this room until tomorrow morning. You’ll break into another elementary school and frame me for murder.”

Percy pouted, twirling the recorder in his fingers. Apollo glanced down at the plastic instrument and up at him.

“Stop fidgeting. You’re making me uncomfortable.” He ordered.

Percy glared at the ground. “I don’t have anything to do. I can’t even go to sleep. I don’t have a bed.”

Apollo scoffed. “You don’t need a bed. You can sleep on the floor. You probably slept in cardboard boxes before I got here. Isn’t this an upgrade?” He gestured to the crappy hotel and felt both smugness and pity.

Percy’s glare intensified. The poor carpet was shaking in its nonexistent boots. “I did have a bed.” He insisted. “You don’t even need to sleep. Can’t I just have this one?”

“The audacity you have surprises me every time.” He said in a low voice. A warning voice. “You’ll sleep on the floor like the good little beast you are, and I, the god, will take the bed. Do you understand me?”

Percy’s eyes flashed. After a moment he nodded.

Apollo smiled, satisfaction settling in his chest. “Good.”

Percy hovered there a moment longer.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” He announced loudly, backing up towards the bathroom door. His eyes didn’t leave Apollo.

“Okay? Thanks for letting me know.” Apollo said sarcastically.

Percy quietly slid into the bathroom.

Demigods. What happened to all the polite demigods that knew their place? He hoped to Olympus and beyond that his children didn’t act like that. He’s sure they’d be piles of ash if they acted as Percy did with other gods.

The sloshing noise of the shower sounded.

‘Good.’ Apollo thought. ‘Might look like I have a normal kid with me instead of a homeless street rat.’

He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was in Olympus.

He sighed, letting the clean air fill his lungs. Gods, that hotel was musty. It was about midday, so the sun shone down on him, creating a delicate halo around his golden locks.

Would it be too late to hit a Starbucks? Probably not. He could do whatever he wanted anyway.

He slid through the gardens, not pausing to admire the new selection of flowers the Anthousai had planted in the public gardens.

Eventually, the verdure of the gardens made way to a bustling market street. Apollo sighed as he stepped into the masses of people. He had such a love-hate relationship with crowds. On one hand, it was annoying to walk among the masses. On the other, he loved to see the wonder and worship that radiated from Olympian crowds.

He smiled at a random nymph when they made eye contact. She smiles back, fanning herself dramatically. He held back his laughter.

He felt his mood lift considerably. Yes, this was good. It was good for him to get away from his current… situation. He could—

Before he could finish the thought, something small toppled into his legs with extreme force.

“Ah!” Apollo cried, taken completely off guard.

“Sorry, sorry!!!” Said a little yellow blur, trying to stumble past him in the crowd.

“You get back here, you stupid half-breed!!” A woman’s voice shouted.

A nebulae bursted through the crowd, her eyes narrowed at the little blur. She rose her hand above her head. The little thing panicked, trying the sidestep him and run into the crowd.

“You little— Don’t you try and—!!!” He stopped himself, mouth hanging slightly open. There was no way. It couldn’t be. “Will?” He breathed, shock spiking to his core. Of all people…

“Dad!” Will, his youngest, cried. The corners of his eyes prickled with relieved tears.

His eyes flashed to the nebulae who had her hand raised over Will’s head. The shock died, replaced with cold rage.

She shrunk back, her expression widened with terror.

“My—my lord, I did not know he was yours.” She stammered, stepping back.

“Why do you raise your hand against my own?” Apollo snarled, stomping forward.

Will stumbled away from the unfortunate nebulae, rushing towards him.

“Dad, it was a mistake. I’m sorry, it was my fault. I thought she was the tour guide and…” Will trailed off, embarrassed.

“The little brat touched me!” The nebulae shrieked, fear forgotten. Her face curled with disgust when her eyes laid upon Will.

‘Touched her?’ Apollo repeated in his head. “What do you mean?”

If possible, Will’s face turned even more red. “On the arm! I was just trying to get her attention because I couldn’t find my group!” He insisted, flustered.

Apollo resisted the urge to stare open-mouthed at the nebulae. All this ruckus… because someone had grazed her arm.

The nebulae sniffed, shifting uncomfortably. “…He smells of mortal. I don’t want to catch anything from him. I’m going to have to take a bath after this to wash off the stink.”

Apollo felt something inside him snap. He made sure his face looked entirely blank. “If you didn’t want mortal… germs…” and gods, the medical inaccuracy of that statement hurt Apollo’s soul. “Why did you try to hit him?”

She flushed. “Well… well, my lord… I just…”

Apollo couldn’t believe his ears. What kind of idiot would hit a child in an orange shirt? That was asking for godly payback. People typically don’t take kindly to their children being abused. The gods, however absent they were, weren’t the exception.

Honestly, if he murdered her now… would it even count as murder? Apollo should think it would count as natural selection.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Apollo let a smile cover up the bubbling anger that threatened to erupt. Will flinched, sending him a heartbroken look. Apollo tried to calm himself. ‘Please don’t look at me like that, kid.’ He thought, guilt and rage and confusion swirling in a tornado, tearing at his stomach.

The nebulae blinked quickly, fluttering her eyelashes. Now she was flustered for a different reason. “Lois, my lord.”

She was kind of hot, but all attraction had seeped out the window the moment she’d raised a hand against his offspring.

“Where can I find you?” Apollo asked sweetly. Will started to discretely back away, his face still crumpled with that damned heartbroken expression. Apollo grabbed his arm without looking back, Will’s little flinch sending shame coursing through his body like ichor.

As the nebulae stammered out her address Apollo curled his free hand into a fist. He gripped it so hard a drop of golden blood fell to the ground. A tiny hydrangea sprout grew from the droplet. Neither Will nor Lois noticed.

“I’ll see you soon then!” Apollo felt like his smile was more teeth than smile but Lois seemed encouraged by it.

“Yes, of course, my lord!” Lois exclaimed, a relieved smile stretching her face. She hurriedly rushed away. Apollo watched her whip out her phone, probably to text her friends: ‘You’d never guess what just happened!!’.

He let out a long suffered sigh, letting his smile wash off his face like water. He loosened his grip on Will’s arm.

Will looked up at him with big blue eyes. Apollo’s eyes.

“Hey, kid. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want you to see me kill her.” Apollo explained.

Will’s mouth dropped open comically. “What?? No, Dad, it’s okay! You really, really don’t have to do that!” He sputtered.

Apollo smiled. This time a genuine one. “Come on. Let’s get some coffee.”

——

The dryad barista tilted her head respectfully at him, the closest she could get to a bow behind her cramped bar. Apollo nodded back.

“Medium caramel latte with heavy nectar and ambrosia cream. With vanilla bean.” Apollo decided.

The woman nodded, already rushing to create it.

“One moment.” He gestured to Will, who straightened himself anxiously. “My kid needs to order too.”

“Apologies my lord.” The dryad dipped her head.

Apollo smiled softly. Finally, someone with respect.

“Uh, um…” Will stammered.

Apollo waited patiently. He had all the time in the world. This was important.

The menu had the classics, as well as some Olympian-themed drinks. The Poseidon refresher and the Dionysus Irish coffee. Ridiculous. His drink was clearly the superior.

Will must’ve seen him staring at the Dionysus drink because he pointed to it. “That one.” He decided a determined expression on his face.

The dryad startled and looked at him with wide eyes.

Apollo chuckled. “You’re a little young for that one.” He patted Will’s head, rustling his gold curls.

“…I… I’m…” Will mumbled something.

“What?” Apollo said, leaning down to better hear him. Will only came up to his waist.

“I’m not allowed to drink coffee,” Will admitted, eyes flickering to the wooden floor. “Lee says it’ll give me anxiety.”

Apollo blinked. “Oh.” He said, not sure what else to say. “How about hot chocolate? Or milk? Are you allowed that?”

Will nodded hesitantly.

“You heard him. One small hot chocolate.” Apollo told the barista.

She nodded, hurrying to get the order ready.

“Come on.” Apollo took Will by the shoulders and sat him in his favorite booth. His favorite part of the little café was the view.

Will seemed to enjoy it too, judging by the way he pressed his hands against the window. The mortal world stretched on below them, buses full of people and skyscrapers full of workers. Above them, the gods went about their days, blessing and cursing. The marble of Olympus stood proud above even the tallest of the mortal’s skyscrapers.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Apollo asked, sliding into his seat.

“Yeah. I can see the Statue of Liberty.” Will pointed to something in the distance.

A silence came up at the table.

“How old are you now?”

Will shifted. “I’m nine this year, father.”

Apollo frowned at the use of ‘father’. He much preferred Will calling him dad. Father felt so formal.

“Here you go, my lord.” The dryad held their drinks, clearing space at the table. She spared a glance at Will, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. She set the drinks down and scurried back behind the counter.

Normally they call out names and you go to get your drink. Not for Apollo. He was kind of a big deal around here.

He sipped on his coffee. Hm. Needed more nectar. Fortunately, there was a little half and half cup full of nectar. As he poured in some extra to his drink, he watched Will drink his hot chocolate. The cup seemed gigantic in his hands. He had to hold it with two hands to put it up to his lips. It’s fascinating. Even when Apollo was just born, he doesn’t remember being so little and harmless. He couldn’t imagine Will trying to fight a cloud of harpies like Percy had (forcibly)attempted to.

Twelve and nine weren’t that far away, were they…?

He shook the thought from his head.

“You want some?” He gestured with the nectar.

Will seemed to consider it before he shook his head. “Mm not allowed.” He said through his cup. There was whipped cream on his top lip.

Apollo suppressed a smile. “And why’s that?” He asked playfully.

“Lee says we have to save it.”

That Lee… was he even Apollo’s kid? So responsible. Apollo chuckled at the thought. There was no doubt in his mind that Lee was his, of course. No one else but Asclepius could create a demigod that was as skilled with medicine. He was proud of the kid.

“Well,” Apollo reached out and ruffled Will’s hair again. “Lee’s not here, is he? This isn’t camp. We have tons of the stuff.”

Will, instead of looking happy at this, looked perturbed.

“Why doesn’t Camp Half-Blood have more then?” He asked.

Apollo paused. That… was an unfair question. Will seemed to notice his awkward pause and set his drink down.

“A-And also, I- um, can’t drink too much or I’ll… like, die…” he said, strangely ominous with his squeaky nine-year-old voice.

“You’ll what?” Apollo said blankly.

“If we drink too much nectar, demigods explode or something. Lee told me.” Will hurriedly explained, fiddling with a napkin.

He… he didn’t know that. That sounded horrible. Ambrosia and nectar, only medicinal? Ghastly.

“Being a demigod… sounds like it kind of sucks.” Apollo joked.

Will tore a shred of the napkin. “Yeah. And if we stay up late we get eaten by the camp night harpies.”

Apollo scrunched his nose, confused. “You what?”

“The night harpies,” Will said again. “They eat you if you stay up past curfew. They took a chunk outta Kayla’s arm because she forgot her furby at the arena.”

Apollo’s jaw dropped. “They did what?”

Will seemed to realize his change in mood and stammered about how it wasn’t actually that bad and that Kayla had fully recovered and that she thought the Furby was creepy anyways. Apollo wasn’t listening.

Camp Half-Blood was supposed to be a haven for his children. A place where they didn’t have to worry about monsters. Now he hears about these… these night harpies? What was Chiron thinking? He knows what he was thinking. Chiron would be receiving a very cross email later tonight, that’s for sure.

“Will, kid. Calm down.” Subtly, he lifted his finger, some useful divine magic allowing Will to relax. Shame it didn’t work on other god’s kids. Percy would’ve already been unconscious. As Will’s godly parent, he had a certain amount of control over him. He didn’t exercise this ability often, as he had no need to.

Will slumped in his seat, sluggishly sipping at his hot chocolate.

“Why’d you save me?” Will said softly, noticeably more steadier.

“You’re mine. I couldn’t allow her to hurt you. I love you, buddy.” Apollo said, beginning to tear at his napkin. This outing was just full of difficult conversations, wasn’t it?

“I love you too, Dad…” Tears formed at the edges of Will’s eyes. “I thought she was gonna hit me… because I’m a bastard.”

Apollo startled. “Where did you learn that word?” He demanded. “And you’re not. Don’t let anyone tell you that you are.”

The tears rolled down Will’s face. “I am a bastard. Everyone here says that’s what a demigod is.”

Apollo clenched his teeth, looking Will straight in his blue eyes. “Who. Who said that?”

Some demigods were bastards— but not his. He wasn’t even married!

Will shrugged. Tears still ran down his face. “I don’t want to be a demigod anymore Dad. Can you turn me into a mortal instead?”

Apollo dropped his drink.

It spilled to the ground. Apollo didn’t even look at it.

Will didn’t mean it, he told himself. It was just the calming magic. It was making him loopy. Horror filled his chest. Was his blood so horrible that his own babies wished to become lesser beings?

Will seemed to realize he was upset. “Mm sorry…” he slurred. “I hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t, sunshine. You didn’t.” Apollo said quickly. Had he? He didn’t know. Something uncomfortable sat in the pit of his stomach.

Will covered his eyes, freely crying. Apollo definitely used too much magic on him. “I don’t want to live like this anymore.” He sobbed quietly. No one else in the cafe even looked at Will. They were all glancing at Apollo. One pretty nymph smiled shyly at him.

Can you not see? He wanted to scream. This… my child is in distress. Leave me alone.

“Will,” He reached forward and took Will’s little hands into his own. “I want to fix things for you. I want to make things better. Okay?”

Will nodded shakily, letting in a breath that sounded like a sob. His eyes drooped, and he quietly slumped. Asleep.

Apollo leaned back, emotionally somewhere between shock and distress.

‘I can fix this.’ He thought. ‘I can fix this.’

He threw a couple of drachmas on the table and lifted Will out of his seat. Will snuggled into him, looping his arms around his neck automatically.

He hurried out of the building, ignoring the stares and flirty waves. Not today.

People seemed to ignore Will’s presence entirely, and call out for him anyway. It was like the little boy in his arms was a figment of his imagination. Had people always treated demigods like this? Had… he treated demigods like this?

No, he’s sure he’s a little more gracious than that… he wouldn’t. He’d never.

Eventually, he finds a frantic cloud nymph, eerily similar looking to Lois. She raced down the street calling Will’s name frantically.

“William!” She cried, startling several godlings drinking canned nectar. “Willia—“ She stopped as she saw him. Her hands went over her mouth, her face melting with relief.

“Oh thank the gods,” She said silently, but Apollo heard.

“Lose something?” Apollo said coldly, holding his son close to his chest.

She dropped to her knees, bowing. “Lord Apollo, I couldn’t take care of your charge, I will accept any punishment you deem fit.” She told him, eyes lowered to the ground in shame.

Apollo rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Kids wander. Especially half-bloods. Restless things they are. Don’t let it happen again.”

The nymph nodded so quickly that Apollo feared her head might pop off. “Yes, my lord.”

“What are you doing up here anyway?” Apollo asked, hefting Will into a more comfortable position.

“A short field trip to Asclepius’ research infirmary. You signed the permission slip… do you…” she paused, a hint of wariness betrayed in her expression. “Do you remember?”

Apollo frowned. Vaguely, he remembered something of the sort. He must’ve signed it after just skimming it. He kicked himself for the mistake.

“Yes, I believe I do.”

“Excellent, my lord.” The cloud nymph held her hands out.

Apollo stared at her. “What?”

The cloud nymph’s cheeks turned pink. “The… boy, sir.”

Apollo blinked. He didn’t want to hand her Will. He supposed he had to. Damn societal conventions. Damn his father.

“Thank you, sir.” The cloud nymph held him gently, like Will was made of the most precious jewels in existence. The only correct way to treat a demigod in front of their parent(looking at you Lois).

(It blew his mind the way that woman had acted. Like Will had been in the wrong for simply existing.)

“Goodbye, Lord Apollo.” The nymph bowed and then raced away. Will in her arms.

‘Wait,’ Apollo wanted to say. ‘Stop.’

But he said nothing. He watched her disappear around the corner, holding his youngest.

——————

He stood in the flooded hotel room, ignoring the furious knocking and yelling from hotel staff. The shower was empty, still running. Water flowed freely. He was ankle-deep in it. The bathroom window was wide open.

Apollo gritted his teeth, clutching the plastic blue recorder like a stress ball.

Percy had run away.

Again.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long to find the boy. Apollo could practically feel his divinity from the hotel. Only a few minutes into patrolling the street he caught movement in his peripheral.

There. At the edge of a building, peeking out of an alleyway. In all his half-divine glory, Percy stood holding a cardboard box. He scanned each side of the street, like a prey animal knowing it was being followed.

Apollo curled his hands into tight fists. Why did everyone want to try his patience today? He continued forward, Percy still blissfully unaware of his presence. At some point, the demigod tensed, sensing his presence. He looked straight at Apollo.

Rather than fear, like Apollo had been expecting, Percy’s face showed no discernible expression. He clutched his cardboard box close to his chest and stared.

“So? Nothing to say for yourself?” Apollo spat, a hysterical lilt to his tone.

Apparently, Percy did not, for he said nothing.

For some reason, Apollo began to find this hilarious. So hilarious, he began to laugh. He laughed so hard that he had to brace himself by putting his hands on his knees and bending down. Percy stepped back, his hold on his box becoming white-knuckled.

“You…” he gasped for air. “Think… you can…just run away from me?” It was funny. So funny.

Percy glanced to the side. There was a large reflective window beside them. The store lights were darkened, and the employees had long since locked up. No one could help him.

“I wasn’t running,” Percy said, his eyes boring into Apollo’s.

Apollo saw his eyes flash gold in the reflective glass. “Oh yeah?” He tilted his head, looking Percy up and down. Percy shifted uncomfortably. “Because I. Don’t. Believe. You.” He enunciated each word with a step, getting closer to Percy. His voice became low, threatening.

Percy shuffled back slowly in turn, but a haphazard glance behind him revealed a bricked-off wall. Dead end. Nowhere to run.

It became clear that the emotionless face was a farce. Now that Apollo was closer, he could see Percy shaking. His lip looked red from biting, and his cheeks matched the shade, flustered from panic. The box shook in his arms.

Apollo stood over him, feeling a sadistic sense of pleasure. It was good that the demigod was learning his place. He should be afraid.

The demigod darted to the side just as the thought crossed his mind. The sun god wasted not even a second grabbing the back of his torn shirt and throwing him to the ground. The demigod landed with a pained whimper.

“You’re pathetic.” Apollo groaned, running a hand over his face and trying to quell his anger.

“You’re horrible!” Percy yelled back, his teeth gritted into a snarl.

Apollo let that wash over him. A chuckle escaped his lips. “I am, aren’t I?”

“You’re…” Percy let out a choked breath. “The worst. I hate you.”

“You have anything else you want to say?” Apollo waited patiently.

Percy glared at him silently.

“Stand up.” He ordered.

Percy continued to glare at him and stood on wobbly legs, dropping the empty cardboard box.

Then Apollo grabbed Percy’s collar and raised his arm over his head. He saw Percy’s eyes widen a fraction and then squeeze shut in preparation for the oncoming blow.

He had it coming. It would be swift and eloquent, just enough so he would learn to obey his betters.

He caught his reflection in the glass.

Golden eyes stared back at him, a bigger body holding a smaller one. His arm was reared back, and Percy’s face was one of broken acceptance. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his reflection.

He was doing the same thing that Lois had done.

He dropped his arm. And then he dropped Percy’s collar.

Percy gasped, stepping away from Apollo and clutching his stomach. His big, scared green eyes flashed light blue for a moment. The images of Will and Percy overlapped.

Apollo took a step back too, horrified at what his mind was conjuring. He covered his mouth with his hands and angled his head down, blocking his face from view. He fell to his knees.

He kneeled there, gasping.

After a moment: “…Apollo?”

“Just… just go.” He heard himself say. “You wanted to run. Here’s your chance.”

He doesn’t pay attention after that. Too busy battling guilt and playing games with his conscience.

“I… I didn’t mean to run. I just wanted somewhere to sleep. I know it was stupid.”

Little Will, slapped around by some low-blooded nymph. How could he let that happen? He was his father. Will was nine. Nine.

“Were you going to hit me?”

He was about to emulate that woman. To bring suffering upon a child of a god. What if it was Hermes escorting one of his kids? Will, Lee, Kayla…

“Apollo, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

He heard sniffling.

“Can’t you just bring me home? I want to go home.”

Apollo closed his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy, and his whole body was unsteady—like he had vastly different weights for every limb. He stood. He uncovered his face.

Percy startled, jumping away. He scooped him up over his shoulder in a half-assed firefighter carry. Percy didn’t even get the chance to react besides a small noise at the sudden movement.

“Apollo?” Percy asked again, his voice muffled. He shifted in Apollo’s hold. Little fists clutched at the back of Apollo’s shirt.

“Still yourself. And be quiet. I’m thinking.” He wasn’t thinking. He just didn’t want to hear Percy speak. Every pathetic little word he uttered sent tremors through his being. Guilt wracked through him like a plague.

‘Why do I feel like this?’ He found himself thinking. ‘Why is the demigod having this effect on me?’

He thought about Will. About his children. He thought about a plastic blue recorder. A destroyed sun chariot.

He trudged back to the hotel, completely silent, the demigod awkwardly thrown over his shoulder.

“Sir!” A sniveling voice interrupted his thoughts. “I hope you intend to pay for the damage you’ve created!” A stout old man said, his mustache comically bristling as he spluttered.

Apollo blinked. He was in front of his hotel room, standing on a soggy carpet.

“Sir!” The short man said again, his wrinkled face beginning to turn red with indignation.

Apollo gently lifted Percy onto the ground. “Go into the room. You can have the bed. I don’t care.” He told him, ignoring the old man.

Percy’s eyes widened a fraction, but he gave a tiny nod and entered the room. He threw one cautionary glance back —maybe at the old man, maybe at Apollo— before he closed the door.

The old man, fully red in the face, now had hotel workers flanking on each side.

“You flood my hotel!” He began. “You disappear to who knows where! You—“

Apollo rolled his eyes and shoved a few hundred thousand dollars into the old man’s chest. It was worth it to avoid the lecture.

“We good?” He asked, already making his way into his hotel room.

The old man spluttered, staring at the money in disbelief. His two cronies watched with open mouths.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about a raise—“ One of them said as he shut the door.

He let out a deep, long-suffering sigh. He let his forehead rest against the closed door.

“Lord Apollo?” Percy chimed beside him. When he didn’t respond, Percy prodded at his side.

“It’s past your bedtime.” Apollo lifted his head off the door, lightly shoving Percy away.

Percy tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows.

He sighed again, feeling a deep heaviness in his shoulders. Time to clean this mess up.

He touched a hand to the ground. He willed the water away.

…or, he would’ve. If there was any water.

“What?” Apollo said aloud, straightening himself up from the ground. The room looked like things had been knocked over by water, that’s for sure. Lamps were overturned, some bottles from the bathroom had been relocated to the floor, and the wall was stained darker where the water levels had been.

There’s no way it could’ve dried that quickly. He scratched his head, befuddled at the oddness. Maybe the hotel cleaners somehow vacuumed it all up?

He looked at Percy, who was patting the dry bed. He hefted an equally dry pillow from the carpet to the bed.

A wave of deja vu passed over Apollo.

Weird.

Weird, weird, weird.

Chapter Text

The sound of fingers tapping made a thwapping noise against the laminated paper.

“As such, your sessions will take place between these two sessions.” Athena pointed to a spot on what felt like an ocean of squares. Apollo cursed the day she’d discovered Google Sheets.

Poseidon continued to tap at his sheet with his fingers. He glared out the window, staring down at New York City like he could see the mortal’s faces from up on Olympus.

“Hm.” Hermes flicked through his documents. “My sessions gonna be very quick— don’t think I need this much time. Got quite a few deadlines to crunch so I’d like for this meeting to go as smoothly as possible.”

Athena closed her eyes, leaning back. It was strangely expressive, coming from her. “I too, would like for this meeting to go smoothly.” She said.

The four of them sat in the Athens Owl— because of course they did, Athena had been in charge of picking the restaurant. The Athens Owl looked like a Barnes and Noble had merged with an Olive Garden, plus the addition of traditional Greek architecture. Athena had chosen a secluded booth with comfy velvet benches. Apollo reclined, trying to push away any anxiety about sitting next to the (clearly irritated) King of the Seas.

Hermes shot him a thumbs up. Apollo resisted the urge to shoot him the nastiest glare he’d ever seen. Instead, he looked at the menu’s drink options.

“Poseidon, can you please stop with the tapping? It’s distracting.” Athena reprimanded, putting passive-aggressive emphasis on please.

“I have more important things to be doing right now,” Poseidon said, not tearing his eyes away from the window.

Athena didn’t roll her eyes, but Apollo felt like she was on the inside.

“You’re saying that there’s something more important than the solstice meeting to you?” The wisdom goddess said, idly shifting through her documents.

Gods, Apollo hated it when she did that. She’d twist your words so that they turned into something entirely different. For example: ‘Nah, I’d rather not,’ turned into: ‘You have a fear of confrontation’.

Poseidon got a sharp look on his face— one that told Apollo that he also hated when she did that. Thankfully, just as Apollo was wondering if he was about to see the beginning of World War Three, their waiter arrived.

He bowed down, sticking his goat tail up to the sky. “Good morning Lord Poseidon, Lady Athena, Lord Apollo, Lord Hermes. What can I get you today?”

Athena sighed like the mere thought of food was an interruption. “Black coffee. With a nectar shot.”

Poseidon said nothing, gripping the side of the table like he wanted to break it in half.

“I’ll have plain nectar and fries. Please.” Apollo asked.

Hermes raised his eyebrows. He then proceeded to order the most sugar-filled, manic rush-inducing drink Apollo had ever heard of.

The waiter trotted away, looking slightly dizzy.

“Please?” Hermes repeated. “You’ve been in the mortal realm for too long.” He laughed.

Discomfort sat in the pit of Apollo’s stomach.

“What’s wrong with saying please?” Apollo shot back. His heart wasn’t really in it though, and Hermes seemed to notice from the way he slumped.

“I bet it’s the kid, isn’t it?” He chattered.

Athena and Poseidon both straightened. Apollo inwardly cringed. Great. Gossip mags loved demigods for a reason. The two gods may pride themselves as ‘serious’ gods, but they were as bad as everyone else when it came to drama.

“What kid?” Poseidon cut in, a strange flicker in his eyes setting off Apollo’s warning bells.

Hermes gave a half shrug. “One of my little tykes. Got itself turned around. Called in a favor from Apollo.”

Athena’s face was stone. “That is a direct violation of the ancient laws.”

Hermes’ lips twitched, gaining that sly smile that usually meant you were playing right into his hands. “It would be… if I was bringing it.”

Athena straightened her shoulders, fixing Hermes with a ‘look’. “I see.” She said, her voice not covering her disapproval. Still, she sighed in reluctant acceptance. “Well… I suppose if no rules are being broken.”

Hermes grinned, all teeth. He sent Apollo a thumbs up. Apollo crossed his arms, glaring into the spreadsheet.

“Sides’, Apollo hates the kid,” Hermes said, giving a half shrug. “Not like he’ll get attached.”

Apollo glared even harder at his spreadsheet.

‘I don’t hate him. He’s just annoying.’ Apollo thought, deciding against voicing it. ‘He makes me think about things I don’t want to think of.’ His second thought was quieter, but no less obtrusive.

“This kid…” Poseidon started, twirling a fork in his hand. Athena eyed the fork, gray eyes sparkling with some unknown thought. “What does he look like?”

Athena scoffed. “Who said it was a he? Best check your biases.”

Poseidon snapped his metal fork in two. “Just tell me.” He said, eye twitching.

Hermes shrugged, leaning so far back Apollo could only see that toothy grin of his.

“Black hair.” He laughed. “Green eyes. Why?”

Poseidon seemed to bluescreen for a second, staring at Hermes with pure shock. “What?” He managed.

Hermes’ grin faltered. “Black hair, green eyes. Why? That’s not a weird thing for mortals, is it?”

“It’s not,” Athena confirmed.

“Does he…” Poseidon closed his eyes. His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping the table. “…does he have freckles?”

Okay, now Apollo isn’t entirely sure what’s going on.

Hermes seemed equally confused by the look of it. Sometimes he just pretended to be confused though. Apollo couldn’t tell the difference between his genuine expressions and his fake ones. Not that he’d ever admit such a thing. His pride as the god of truth would be at stake!

“I don’t know. Maybe? Can’t say I got a good look at it.”

“Him.” Apollo and Poseidon said simultaneously.

Athena huffed. “Don’t make a mountain out of an anthill. It’s a creature, a beast.”

“Yeah?” Hermes said, grin gone. “How about your kids? They beasts too, Owlhead?”

Athena crossed her arms. “Demigods created by my hand are not like your bastards.”

Apollo slammed his fists down on the table. “They are not bastards! I’m not even married!”

The rest of the restaurant ceased the little chatter to stare at him. Hermes raised his eyebrows, and Athena turned up her nose. Even Poseidon looked alarmed by his sudden outburst. He sat back down, rubbing the back of his neck.

He might’ve overreacted… but it was true. His children weren’t bastards.

Athena cleared her throat. “Anyway, despite the mixing of mortal DNA with divine, I craft my demigods to be perfect creatures. It is only demigods created by the gods, and purely by us that they will not be considered lower creatures.”

Apollo felt a vein throb in his forehead.

‘She’s insufferable.’ He thought, biting his lip.

“Now who’s being biased… you’re the only one that creates demigods like that.” Hermes groaned halfheartedly.

The satyr waiter scurried over to their table with a platter full of drinks. With a small amount of amusement, Apollo noticed that the kitchen had sent Poseidon a glass of water. Poseidon stared down at it blankly.

Athena sipped her coffee. “That is why mine are the only acceptable demigods.”

Gods, Apollo wanted to wipe that calmness off her face. How dare she say such things?

“The boy, Hermes.” Poseidon cut in, strangely focused. “What’s his name?”

Hermes tilted his head, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

When Hermes said nothing after a minute, Apollo sighed and opened his mouth to tell the King of the Seas.

“P—“

“Sal.” Hermes interrupted. “His name is Sal. Cute, isn’t it?”

Poseidon’s eyes grew dark, his eyebrows drawing together. “Yes, very… cute.”

Had Hermes forgotten Percy’s name? Apollo shifted uncomfortably. What was going on here? How had Hermes even known that name? Apollo didn’t think he’d mentioned Percy’s fake name to him…

(Also, cute was not the word that came to mind when thinking of ‘Sal’. Just saying.)

Eventually, Athena interrupted the awkward silence to reaffirm the schedules, taking up Apollo’s precious time with boring lectures. He’d rather be with the brat than doing this.

“That will be all today. Please keep in mind your role in the upcoming meeting.” She clasped the documents together with a celestial bronze paper clip. “Thank you for coming.” She disappeared into a spray of owl feathers. One landed in Hermes’ hair.

“Bleh.” He groaned, picking it out. “Just me or does she have more of a stick up her ass than normal?”

When no one laughed he sighed, looking forlornly at the feather. “Tough crowd.”

Poseidon spared one more glance at them and disappeared without saying a word. His glass of water was untouched.

Apollo waited a moment. Then he kicked Hermes under the table. Hard.

“Ow! What the—“

“Why’d you lie about that stupid demigod?”

“What? Oh, that.” Hermes scratched his head. “He was being pretty weird, wasn’t he? I figured the less he knew the better.”

Apollo startled. That actually… made a lot of sense.

Hermes puffed out his chest at Apollo’s expression. “Should’ve made me the god of logic instead.”

Apollo shot him a withering look. “Bye, Hermes.”

“Aw, cmon—“

He turned into light and quickly flashed away.