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Percy is frustrated. He’d just used his last twenty bucks to get some gas, and before the nozzle even touched his car, the pump glitched and reset the transaction, taking his money but not giving him a drop.
“Sorry man,” The cashier shrugs when Percy tries to get a refund. “First time I’ve heard that happen, there’s no way to prove you didn’t fill up. I'd just go to another pump. Next!”
So Percy stomps outside, trying to convince himself he can make it home with his tank empty. He reaches his car, and something is sticking out from his wiper. Great , he thinks, I’m the first person on earth to get a ticket at a gas station . He snatches the paper, grumbling to himself before he reads it.
Hey man, I saw what happened, that sucks. Hopefully this will cover it. Have a great day!
Attached to the note, Percy gapes at the fifty dollar bill someone left him. He whips his head around, almost giving himself whiplash, but finds the gas station empty. Percy sends a quick prayer of thanks to whoever is watching out for him, and he fills his tank.
Percy climbs back into his car, and he decides the only way to spend his extra thirty bucks is with chicken nuggets and large fries. He pulls into the drive thru, and when he grabs his cash to pay, the worker tells him that the car in front of him paid for his order.
“Is there anyone behind me I can pay for?” Percy asks.
“That's very kind of you sir, but it's just you here,” the employee says. She smiles, “maybe you just deserve some good karma.”
For Percy, this lucky streak continues for weeks . He goes to the mall to buy new shoes – the last pair they have fit him perfectly, and are 75% off. He's running late to pick up Estelle from school – every traffic light is green, and he arrives with two minutes to spare.
“Maybe the Gods are paying you back, little by little?” Annabeth muses. She pops a grape into her mouth and throws one from the bunch towards Percy, of which he catches in his mouth. She softly applauds, and he takes a bow.
Percy is skeptical. “By having someone buy my mcdonalds? I don't think so.”
“I don’t know…” Annabeth shrugs and kicks her feet onto the coffee table. “It seems like the kind of thing they would do. Just subtle enough to improve your day, and not draw any suspicion from other half-bloods.”
“I think saving the world twice is worth more than some minor conveniences.”
“It is, but it adds up. Babe, it’s either small favours here and there, or a brand new private jet and a temple in Greece dedicated to you.” Annabeth stares directly in his eyes, conveying her seriousness. “I wouldn't think too much into it, lest you offend the God
giving
you the good fortune.”
This stumps Percy, and he gives a half nod to acknowledge Annabeth. “But who would do that? Poseidon can’t because it would show favouritism. Zeus and Hera hate me, so do Ares and your mom, and I’m not sure any of the Olympians even
control
luck.”
“Just stop questioning it, Percy. If they want to reveal themselves, they will. Enjoy your perfect life while it lasts.”
So Percy does. The Mets tickets he bought his mom and Paul were extraordinarily cheap, and right above home base. His shampoo always has the perfect amount left before it’s finished. He always has the right amount of eggs for whatever he’s cooking.
It all comes to a head when he visits camp, sitting on the beach outlooking Long Island Sound. He hears a woosh sound, but he knows better than to look over until he feels a presence beside him.
A woman stands, her strawberry blonde hair flowing behind her in the wind. Her head is tilted down towards him, though she isn't looking at him – a blindfold covers her eyes, though she regards Percy as if she can see through it. She tilts her head, “Perseus Jackson. I see you’ve received my gifts.”
Percy gapes at her, but he quickly changes his expression into one of gratitude. “I have, thank you. What did I do to deserve your good fortune?”
“Silly boy,” She says, in a tone similar to someone talking to a puppy. “I am Tyche, goddess of good luck and fortune, among other things. Do you believe you
don’t
deserve anything I have granted you?”
“No!” Percy amends. “It just… came as a surprise, is all.”
“Child,” Tyche says. She smiles, and though Percy can't see them, he knows it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Not only have I seen everything you’ve done for camp, Olympus, and the world, but my children in cabin 19 are quite the gossips. I know every good and bad thing you have done, and I find you deserving of much more than what I am able to grant you.”
Percy feels a tear roll down his cheek, though he’s unsure if it’s a side effect from the goddess’ presence, or because someone has acknowledged just how hard he’s fought for everyone but himself.
Tyche reaches out and brushes the tear away, cupping his jaw. “You are worthy of all good fortune sent your way, Perseus. I hope one day you may feel the same.”
Percy watches her turn away, walking the length of the shore as her white robes billow in the wind. “Tyche!”
She faces him but doesn't speak. Percy clears his throat. “Thank you, for everything.”
She smiles again, and this time Percy can tell it's genuine. “You are more than welcome, my child. Go forth and live your life to its fullest potential. I will be with you every step of the way, as will the rest of the Gods. Perhaps you will soon understand just how indebted we are to you.”
With that, she begins to glow, and Percy covers his eyes until the flash of light is gone. He takes a deep breath, his heart feeling just as full as it feels empty. He's known for a while that as much as some Gods don’t care for him, they feel obligated to protect him in some sort of way – killing the hero of Olympus doesn’t tend to bode well with non-mortals.
He finds that knowing, however…
knowing
means having an all powerful being in his corner at all times. Maybe, Percy thinks, he can get used to having good luck.