Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In hindsight, maybe sneaking into the trunk of David’s car without Nikki and Neil wasn’t a good idea. Without someone to keep an eye on where David was… well, to put it simply, the car was gone.

“How the fuck did that loser finish shopping that fast?” Max scowled at the empty parking space and angrily kicked the curb. While David had walked into a camping supply store, he’d gone to a local backstreet farmer’s market. He’d been so confident that David would take forever looking at the different fiber quality of rope or something equally stupid that he’d get back long before the counselor even got into the line for checkout.

In the meanwhile, Max could nick treats off random stands. If he got caught, who cares? Child privilege. No one’s going to fault the ten year old for grabbing candy. They’d blame whoever was supposed to be in charge of him– so, David.

And yet, his flawless plan had backfired. All thanks to the same person that was supposed to take the fall. Well deserved, perhaps, but what was he supposed to do now? Call Gwen with David’s phone? The drive up to the city had taken hours, and David wouldn’t know to turn back for him until Gwen could tell him, which would be when David got back to camp. It would already be dark by then. He could try finding the way back by himself, but that would require hitchhiking of some sort, and who knows what kind of sickos there were around here. David’s phone had a map he could navigate with, and it would give him bus numbers, but he didn’t exactly have a way to pay. Plus, the phone had less than twenty percent left, no way would that last long enough. He’d just get stranded somewhere obscure and be even more screwed. He could also try finding a police station, but this was New York and Max had the feeling the cops here had better things to do than help one lost child.

Whatever he decided, he had to figure it out fast, before he got stuck here overnight.

Max could already see someone staring at him in his peripherals. A teenager, probably around Ered’s age, if he had to guess. Dark hair, tan skin, orange t-shirt, not anything too out of the ordinary. Nothing that screamed cult leader or kidnapper, and there were plenty of people around, so if this kid wanted a piece of him he’d have to wait until Max went somewhere quieter, which wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

The guy looked off to the right of where Max was sitting with wide eyes, and then sprinted full speed towards him. That had to be a coincidence. He wouldn’t do anything. He’d have to be stupid to try kidnapping or hitting Max in full view of a busy street.

The guy closed the distance with what felt like impossible speed, and without hesitation scooped up Max like a misbehaving cat and continued running with the boy under his arm.

The nearby pedestrians hardly gave either of them a second glance.

Fuck. Right. Bystander effect. This was New York. People didn’t give a shit.

Max started thrashing, and bit down hard on the bare arm holding him. The guy tasted like a mixture of seasalt and the grime that floated on top of the lake at camp. Gross. The teen, surprisingly, did not drop Max with a startled scream or fling him away like David would’ve. He just kept on running, not even sparing a glance down at the aggressive child he was hauling. He pulled something small out of his back pocket. It was hard to see what it was at the angle Max was at, but it looked like he flicked something off it and then chucked it behind them. There was a loud bang, followed by the unpleasant screech of something heavy colliding with metal.

Holy shit, had that been a grenade?

That wasn’t good. People with access to weaponry were automatically a bit more dangerous. After all, from what Max had experienced, it was pretty hard to get your hands on something like a grenade easily, let alone legally. Okay, it’d be fine, he’d been kidnapped by dangerous unstable individuals before, this wouldn’t be any different. If anything, it should, in theory, be easier than previous experiences. This rando didn’t know anything about him or his weaknesses, and was a teenager, aka emotionally unstable. And if there was anything Max was good at, it was pulling at people’s insecurities until they crumbled.

But for now, he’d have to settle for trying to wiggle his way out of this. Curse his tinier-than-average limbs and weak child muscles.

Just as he was making some leeway— the teen’s scarily strong grip had slackened a bit after throwing the grenade— the guy set him down. On a grassy hill. With trees. When they were supposed to be in the middle of New York City.

What.

Seriously, this wasn’t even Central Park, what the hell? How had this guy gotten them so far so fast?

“Hey, sorry about grabbing you like that, you okay?” The teen did that horrible thing all tall people felt obligated to do when talking to kids. Squatting down to their level to make eye contact or some shit. Fucking arrogant assholes, all of them. If Max wanted to make eye contact he’d find a way up, not the other way around.

The teen’s eyes were scrunched against the sun, which was conveniently positioned behind Max.

Opportunity. Bad move, dumbass.

Max punched the idiot’s eye-level face as hard as he could, and then made a mad dash for the closest tall building he could see.

And was immediately scooped up by the scruff of his hoodie.

“Hey now, that was unnecessary.” The teen grumbled, setting him down again. His face looked totally fine. Lame. He kept both of Max’s arms locked at his side this time, which was moderately more intelligent. At least he learned from his mistakes. “Look, I know this is weird, and scary. I get it, I promise.”

Max scowled up at him. The teen’s eyes, no longer squinted, reflected Max’s own eye color back at him. Well, Max’s eye color minus the toxic glow that came from regularly consuming whatever chemicals were in school lunches.

He’d been told by quite a few of his peers growing up that his eyes were an oddity, they were too bright to be green, and too green to be blue. His parents, who both had the usual brown, shrugged it off as a recessive trait and told him to stop bothering them with such trivial matters. (His father had shot a sharp look at his mother, who shook her head angrily).

Take that, stupid classmates, his eye color wasn’t that weird if someone else also had it.

“My name is Percy.” The teen must’ve taken Max’s silence as discomfort, because now he was doing a borderline baby voice, raised to a pitch that definitely wore on his vocal cords in a misplaced attempt to sound friendlier. “What’s your name?”

“Ugh.” Max scoffed, turning as far away as he could with both arms restrained, “I don’t tell shit to assholes who kidnap me.”

‘Percy’ blinked incredulously down at him, “Sorry, but uh, aren’t you like, five? Who taught you that?”

Max’s scowl deepened, “Do I look five?!”

“Yeah, you do.” Percy’s voice had fallen back to his natural register, “I’m morally obligated to tell you: language.”

“Fuck you.”

Percy sighed, “Ok, you know what? That conversation can be saved for later. For now, just know that I’m bringing you to a camp where you’ll be safe.”

Oh hell no.

Chapter Text

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood!” Why in the fuck did they name it that. What the hell did that even mean? Was this meant to be some messed up supremacy camp for mixed kids?

Whatever it was, it was a nightmare. Actual worst case scenario. Not only had Max’s original plan to grab the luxuries of the outside world failed, he’d managed to find himself in another abnormal camp. Except the people here were possibly even more delusional than the ones back at Camp Campbell. 

Everyone here talked like Nerris. “Fight monsters” this and “who will the next prophecy include” that. This was either one of the craziest DnD camps Max had ever seen, or these were some insane fucking cultists. Or a camp for the children of cultists. Maybe Daniel went here at some point. He’d have to keep an ear open for the word Xemug, just in case.

Campers were waving sticks and baseball bats at training dummies like they were swords. Max was pretty sure he’d even seen a kid wielding a balloon hot dog somewhere along the trek up to the main office, or as Percy liked to call it, the “Big House”.

Speaking of which, the tall asshole had yet to leave his side, which was frustrating. He’d managed to get Max’s name after addressing him by increasingly ridiculous nicknames, but not much else. Percy also seemed to know that Max would make a break for it once the older boy looked away, and made it his personal mission to keep a close eye on him. 

The outside of the Big House looked like… well, a big house. Kind of old school, light colors, looks like it should have a white picket fence with tall shrubs lining a large grass lawn. The inside was similar– the stereotypical granny’s home if you ignored the ridiculous weapon substitutes hanging on the walls. Seriously, that one was definitely a cheap plastic Captain America shield that only tourist parents with three year olds bought. Max couldn’t tell if he thought the choice of decor was unbelievably bold or even more unbelievably tacky.

“Hey Chiron! New camper!” Percy guided Max by the shoulder, and shoved him (lightly) in front of a balding middle aged man in a wheelchair. 

The man looked down his nose at Max, and paused when making eye contact.

“Ah, I see. Must be exciting for you, Percy. You’ll finally have someone else to share cabin three with.”

Percy grinned toothily, “Yeah! His name is Max. Max, this is Chiron, our resident activities director, and, as you can see, a centaur.”

Max eyed the wheelchair Chiron was sitting in dubiously. “… Right. Sure. Centaur.”

“How old are you, boy?” Chiron sniffed lightly, leaning down. What was with these people and their need to be at eye level? He wasn’t that short. Just look down at him like a normal person.

Max drew his mouth into a thin line, scoffed in his face, and narrowed his eyes into a glare.

“He didn’t tell me either,” Percy oh-so-helpfully contributed, shrugging, “I’d guess six or seven. Eight at most.”

Ugh. He wasn’t that short, goddammit!

But he’s also not about to give these people his real age. At least if they assumed he was younger, they’d underestimate him. It’d make it easier to escape.

Chiron nodded, “And monsters are already coming after him. He’ll be powerful, indeed.”

Percy grimaced slightly, face drawn up in a pitying expression. Yet a glint of— was that pride—? shone in his eyes. The fuck did this jerk have to be proud of? Capturing him like a stray dog?

“Well Max, let’s get you acquainted with the camp. You’ll be spending a good amount of time here, assuming you live long enough.” Percy waggled his eyebrows teasingly, and without waiting for a response, scooped him up again and practically skipped outside. 

“Oh fuck off!” Max smacked his hands as hard as he could against the arm wrapped around his stomach, “I’m not interested in your stupid ass camp!”

“Not yet you aren’t.” Percy lifted him up, keeping him an arms length away. It was, well, not more acceptable than the crouching thing. About equal, actually. Maybe even worse. At least Max could kick people’s ankles when he was on the ground. Feel his razor scooter wrath. That shit hurt like a bitch every time you thought you were tough enough to lift them off the ground by the handles. “You’ll get that this is necessary pretty soon. You’re not quite ready for what’s out there. For what’s going to be coming after you.”

“What, serial killers? Psychopaths? Pedophiles? Child pornographers? I already know they exist, you stupid moron. You aren’t protecting me from jack shit. You literally kidnapped me!”

Percy gave an exasperated huff, “Ok, no, those aren’t what I was talking about. Though watch out for that too. And not protecting you? What, exactly, would you have done to that harpy earlier?”

Harpy? Wasn’t that slang for like, really loud and annoying Karens? Why would Max give a shit about some random woman trying to pester him? Just leave. Walk away. Ooh, what’s she gonna do, scream at him? Scary.

Worst case, he’d just pull out crocodile tears or bury his head in his hoodie and pretend to cry. Loudly. He’d get that woman in trouble faster than she could ask for a manager.

Max voiced as much to Percy, who gave him a bit of a worried look. “I wasn’t talking about a human, didn’t you see the harpy on the street earlier? Huge wings, gross feathers everywhere? Flew straight at you? If I hadn’t gotten to you first, you’d probably already be bird feed.”

What? There wasn’t– Oh. Fuck, right. Camp filled with delusional crazies and brains geared towards fantasy creatures like centaurs. Harpies were also a myth, weren’t they? The insulting phrase had to originate from somewhere. This guy might actually think he saved Max from a monster. 

Now, to play along, or to not play along? That was the question. On one hand, this could prove to be an effective way to escape Camp Campbell. Counter point, this was a camp ok with kidnapping. Though, so were the Wood Scouts, and they’d proved to be… well, not very good people, but not absolutely terrible, either. They’d only tied him to a chair and tortured him into joining them once, and this camp had yet to do that. He’d have to establish his place among the social hierarchy, which was time consuming and annoying, but doable. No, he wouldn’t miss the Camp Campbell campers. Or Gwen. And he definitely wouldn’t miss David. (Or would he? Of course he wouldn’t. Shut up.) On the other hand, this camp was probably just as bad as Camp Campbell. They a) all appeared to have eighth grade syndrome, and b) really enjoyed physical activity, if the various stuff they’d passed on the way here was anything to go by. Counter point, there were definitely a lot more campers here, and the only adult he’d seen the entire time was Chiron, who was wheelchair bound. That meant a lack of individual supervision, and could mean a lot more freedom to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

“Besides, this place isn’t so bad. Most of the campers are pretty nice. We have good times, you know. Make memories and stuff,” he waved his hand vaguely in the air in an aborted hand gesture. 

God, more sentimental shit. Max got enough of that at Camp Campbell with David. He didn’t need more of it, thank you very much. 

“Plus, the food’s pretty good.”

Sold.

Chapter Text

David was in a great mood. The camping store in the city had a lot more supplies than the one near camp, which was always a good thing! There was even a new type of string, with a fancy name he didn’t bother trying to pronounce. Not to mention they had the most recent “Farmer’s Almanac” tape, which was just the cherry on top.

He pulled the camp mobile onto the dirt road leading up to camp and parked it a little ways away, stacked all the goods in his arms, and made his way over to the counselor cabin. 

“Good morning, Gwen!” He greeted the co-counselor cheerily, chucking the mound of stuff on the ground with a loud clatter.

“David, it’s 10PM. That is about as far from morning as you can get.” Gwen didn’t even bother to look up from the magazine she had in her hands. “Have you already scolded Max or…?”

“Good evening, then.” David amended, “Wait, scolded Max? Whatever for?”

Gwen glanced up at him, confused, “Uh, for sneaking into the car again?”

“Sneaking into the—?” David eyebrows furrowed, “What are you talking about? Max wasn’t in the car.”

“Well he wasn’t here. So he must’ve been. It’s either that or he got taken into the woods by a murderous psychopath. That’s also a possibility.”

“What?!”

“Chill, that’s not as likely as him sneaking out. If he’d been kidnapped, he’d have found a way out by now.” She put the magazine face up on the table next to her, “We’d probably have a formerly murderous psychopath on our porch begging for mercy. Or in need of hospitalization.”

She pulled out her phone from her back pocket, tapping a few times. “Shit, that’s not good.”

David was starting to feel a little nervous. He would’ve noticed if Max was with him, right? Gosh, he hadn’t left Max by himself in New York City, did he? 

“You left Max by himself in New York.” Gwen deadpanned, turning her phone to face David. A dot was blinking a little ways inland of the westernmost shore of Long Island. 

Heck.

David sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Another five and a half hour drive, here I come.”

Gwen chuckled humorlessly, and threw her phone at his face. “Take a cup of coffee or something. Last thing we need is for you to get into an accident ‘cause you fell asleep at the wheel.”

David nodded his thanks, and started boiling water. Coffee this late was probably a bad idea, but he really did need to be awake for this journey. He had to get to Max as soon as possible– who knew what kind of danger he had already gotten himself into?

He was going to steal all their food.

It looked too good not to. They wouldn’t mind him taking a bunch of this with him, would they? They had so much. Actually, who cared if they minded or not, they’d just never notice he had anything on him. 

Oh, some food’s missing? Couldn’t be the new kid, look at him, he’s tiny and can’t carry shit. Where would he put it? Well, that was the advantage of wearing a large hoodie everywhere. People always severely underestimated just how much could be shoved between the folds of loose fabric while still looking completely natural.

The dinner etiquette was kind of funny. The tables were clearly split by cabin, which made some degree of sense, but some cabins were overly full and others had nobody. Like the one in the dead center of the room. It was probably the most extravagant one, yet no one even came close to sitting there. Meanwhile, one of the normal-looking tables off to side had people of all ages practically spilling off it. The table Percy had pulled him over to had just them, which Max appreciated, but also, what was the logic of the divide here?

Whatever, didn’t really matter. Not his problem.

What was his problem was the delicious smelling plate of food sitting in front of him. Jesus Christ, who knew camp food could actually be appetizing? The bread was golden and evenly cooked, with crisp edges. The potatoes weren’t shitty, and had seasoned gravy trailing off the side. Even the vegetables managed to make themselves look decent, a delightful gleam shining off the oiled leaves. He hadn’t had good food in, well, forever.

Max’s mouth watered.

He reached for the plate.

“Hold on, kid.” Percy cut off his view of the food with an arm, “We’ve gotta do the tribute.”

What the fuck, get out of the way. If Percy wasn’t careful, Max was going to pull a Nikki and just eat Percy’s arm along with dinner.

Percy dragged him over to the fire. Max dug his heels into the wooden floor, which didn’t slow him down at all. They stopped in front of the fire blazing at the front center of the room. And then Percy, the absolute heathen, proceeded to scrape half his plate into the fire, and loudly announce some thanks to Poseidon.

What the fuck. Why in the hell would he waste food like that. Poseidon? The mythological god? This was a cult. He knew it. 

That meant he had to get the fuck out of here. After eating. 

Percy looked at him expectantly. Max stared blankly back. He… didn’t expect Max to do that too, did he?

Percy gestured at the fire. Shit, he totally did.

Ok, Max would play along long enough to get his hands on some other stuff. Max copied Percy’s actions, scraping the food into the fire. Percy continued staring, and there was an awkward pause. Percy made the “and…?” Motion with his hand. Max shrugged, giving him the most pitifully confused expression he could. Percy huffed, and after a moment of deliberation, seemed to decide that was good enough, and led Max back over to the table.

Max’s food was in his mouth before he’d even sat down. He scarfed it down like he’d been starved for years, which, considering the food options at Camp Campbell, he may as well have been. 

Percy looked at the boy incredulously. 

“The fuck are you looking at?” Max hissed between bites.

Percy put his hands up placatingly, “Nothing, nothing. Just– you’re really hungry.”

“Uh, no duh.” Max pointed his fork accusingly at Percy, “I’ve had a pretty terrible day. Had to sit in a car for hours, got lost, then got kidnapped by a delusional maniac named Percy, who brought me to some cult-camp.”

“What?” Percy sputtered indignantly, “Cult?! This isn’t a cult. I mean, sure, we fight monsters and deal with things normal people believe don’t exist, but that doesn’t make us a cult.”

Max paused his chewing, and then very pointedly looked at the fire, where a few other kids were dumping food.

Percy grimaced. “Ok, but those are tributes to the gods. They’ll like, I dunno, smite us or something if we don’t.” Max continued chewing, slower this time, and gave Percy a look full of contempt. Percy backpedaled, “Wait, no, they won’t. It’s just for blessings and stuff. You know, to show thanks.”

“So,” Max swallowed the food that was in him mouth, and leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “You’re in a non-cult camp that kidnaps and teaches children to fight imaginary monsters from old myths and praise gods for not smiting you by sacrificing perfectly good food to a fire.”

Percy winced. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds incriminating.”

Max snorted, “That’s because it is.”

He eyed one of the bread rolls on Percy’s plate. Percy was looking off to the side, eyes glassy. His face was screwed up into an expression of confusion. Opportunity. Max could definitely snatch one and shove it in his hoodie. 

Just as he was about to do just that, a blond boy crashed in, literally. Nearly overturned one of the side tables in his haste, “Minotaur at the border!” He hollered.

Percy snapped out of whatever funk he was in, eyes lighting up. He grinned at Max, who had a hand placed on Percy’s bread roll.

“You could’ve just asked for another one.” Percy said flatly, “But whatever. Look, this is perfect. You said you don’t believe in monsters, right?”

Chapter Text

“That’s a cow.” 

Percy clicked his tongue, looking rather smug. “I don’t disagree.”

And it was. A cow, that is. A perfectly normal looking cow that was ramming its head into what seemed to be an invisible wall. It was thrashing about wildly, like it was fighting something that wasn’t there. Certainly not a monster. Or whatever the kid from earlier had called it. Minotaur? Max wasn’t super into mythology, but he was pretty sure that the minotaur was supposed to be a huge bull man. To give Percy credit, it was a pretty vicious looking cow. 

But seriously, Percy really dragged him all the way over here to show him a rabid cow? 

Max side-eyed the older boy, who had pulled a pen out of his back pocket and started twirling it in between his fingers. Nervous habit, maybe? Max would have to steal that thing later and see if it actually mattered to Percy or not. The teen uncapped the pen, which extended like a radio antennae. Literally. It just… elongated. It became a thin pole with little bronze rungs leading to a thin point with a rounded top. Like one of those dorky extendable pointers they always tried to sell to suckers on the internet who wouldn’t settle for a laser pointer like everyone else. What a loser. 

Percy didn’t seem to view himself as such though, because he even gave a fancy little flick with his wrist to make the transformation more dramatic. 

“Tada!” He waved the pointer, “Pretty cool, right? This is Anaklusmos, or Riptide.”

The thing even had a name. Max coughed into his hand, covering his snort. This reminded him of that time Ered had sprained her ankle and everyone in camp had attempted to be cool. Percy would’ve fit right in. 

“Totally,” Max bit down hard on his lower lip, keeping a straight face, “So, what? You gonna go poke the cow?”

“Yup.” Percy looked so proud of himself, too. Would be a shame if someone were to… burst his bubble. Not that Max would do that, of course. That would be mean, and Max certainly was never mean.

He’d get Neil to do it instead. The science kid would definitely have something to say about all the wild shit that was going on at this place. Like that lava wall they’d passed earlier.

Or maybe Harrison? That kid had proved he had some actual powers. In a rather mean way, too. Though he wasn’t as much of a troublemaker, so he might not agree to it. Not without some motivation, at least. It’d certainly be fun to watch, so it might be worth finding some candy to bribe the other boy with. Or maybe his rivalry with Nerris would extend to this place? He might be spiteful enough. He might even be able to magic the cow into a real monster. 

Speaking of the cow, Percy was striding confidently over to the violent farm animal, pointer held ready at his side.

“Hey, ugly, long time no see. You remember me?” He taunted. The cow seemed to glare directly at the boy, mouth drawn up into a snarl that bared surprisingly sharp teeth for an herbivore.

Weren’t rabid animals actually pretty dangerous? Cows were already really heavy creatures, and Max didn’t doubt that getting slammed by those hooves would hurt. A lot. And what was probably rabies on top of it? Wasn’t that shit almost guaranteed to kill whoever got bit? He wasn’t about to witness Percy actually die, was he?

Fuck. He should’ve paid more attention to first aid camp.

Where was everybody? Where was Chiron? Oh, right, wheelchair bound. Of course he wouldn’t be here. There had to be another counselor, right?

Someone would stop him.

Percy was getting closer to the cow, swinging his pointer stick and tossing it back and forth between his hands cockily. 

Seriously, any time now. Someone would step in.

The cow was getting visibly angrier, slamming hard into whatever invisible barrier its disease tricked it into thinking it was stuck behind. 

Holy shit, he was totally about to watch Percy die.

He should… do something. He should stop this. He should stop Percy from getting himself pointlessly killed. But what would he do? Percy was clearly fully convinced that not only was the animal a mythological monster, but also that he was fully equipped to handle it. It wasn’t like Max could wrestle Percy away, he was much to small for that– he eyed the pointer in Percy’s hand– maybe? 

Max’s hand brushed against a lanyard in his pocket, the unwoven parts of the plastic rubbing a little harshly on his skin. Percy was practically close enough to touch the animal, and the pointer had settled itself firmly into Percy’s right hand. 

Now or never.

Max dashed forward as quickly as he could, and speedily wrapped the loose plastic strings around the pointer, right above where Percy’s grip was, and then wrenched the lanyard as hard as he could. Percy’s hand was yanked back harshly, forcing him to let go of the pointer. It fell to ground with a rather loud clang against some rocks, and Max, with the lanyard still wrapped tightly around it, grabbed it and ran before Percy could figure out what happened. 

Max chanced a glance over his shoulder to see if Percy was pursuing him or not. He wasn’t. He was just standing there. Looking at him. The cow raged on behind the boy.

Even from afar, the teen’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the sunset, greens and blues reflecting in a way that felt wrong– inhuman, almost. For a second, Max’s mind screamed at him, fear choking up his body in a way that made his muscles seize up, no longer obeying Max’s wishes. His legs crumbled under him, unable to support his weight, and the pointer rolled out of his hands, the bronze gleam oddly harsh on Max’s eyes.

Then it disappeared. Vanished into nothing. Like it had never been there in the first place. The lanyard lay on the dirt, parts of the string sliced off where they’d been wrapped around the thing. Max looked back over at Percy, who had the pointer raised over the cow’s head. He brought it down decisively, and it cleaved clean through the animal’s skull. The cow screeched, animalistic and loud, its cries echoing despite the lack of anything to echo against, angry even in its last moments. 

It crumbled, like its flesh was made of sand. Bits of it fell off in disgusting chunks, leaving nothing but dust behind. 

What… was this place?

Chapter Text

David was lost.

It was confusing, to say the least. He’d gotten out of the car on the road nearest to where Gwen’s phone pointed him to, and had just started walking in the general direction. After a while, he’d managed to get absolutely nowhere. He swore up and down he’d passed that exact same rock five times now— but that couldn’t be right, he’d been walking in the same direction for the last hour. Never made a turn.

But then again, there could only be so many rocks shaped like butterflies. Which that one was. Oddly. Very detailed wings and everything. There was no way it was naturally formed. If it was, it was possibly the coolest rock he’d ever seen in nature. 

He glanced down at Gwen’s phone again. No… he was still going the right way. The walk shouldn’t have taken this long, and he wasn’t even there yet! Either Gwen’s GPS was busted, or somehow, David was missing something. Wherever Max was, it was messing with the map. Or Max was intentionally messing with David. Also very possible.

He looked around again, trying to spot a better landmark than the butterfly rock. Maybe try using the trees to navigate instead of relying on what was clearly an unreliable data plan. 

The air around him seemed to shimmer, giving the entire area a dreamy sheen. The grass of the hill he was on waved mockingly in the wind, and for a second, David swore he could hear laughter. 

But there was nothing around him. 

He shrugged, and continued forward. If he walked in a straight line, he’d eventually get somewhere.

After the… incident… Max had stubbornly refused to speak with Percy. Something about the teen’s gaze freaked Max out, and it was pissing him off. Why the fuck did Percy do that? How the fuck did Percy do that? 

And why couldn’t Max look him in the eyes?

Percy was still trying at conversation every five or so minutes, having led Max back to the camp a little while ago. The moon was high overhead at this point, past what David would’ve considered bedtime. Now they were sitting by a lake, with Max as far from the older boy as Percy allowed without scooting closer.

In his peripherals, Max could see Percy shifting his weight from side to side, like he couldn’t sit still. The teen would glance over at him, and then at the lake, and then at something in the distance, and then back, and frankly it was getting weird. Max wished he’d just pick somewhere to stare and stick with it. Ideally not at him.

Percy inhaled slowly through his teeth, the slight hiss breaking the silence, and opened his mouth. Great, here comes another attempt. 

“Look, Max. I’m sorry. I’m not super sure what just happened, but I know I freaked you out. I wasn’t trying to, and I’m sorry. Again.” He finished awkwardly.

Max stared at him from the corner of his eye, scowled, and turned his head the other direction.

“Was it because of Riptide? It’s enchanted to return to my pocket when it gets far enough away.” Percy sighed, “Gods, whatever it was I did, I won’t do it again. But I need to know what it was so I can avoid it.”

Oh my god just shut up. Did Percy really not realize that Max just didn’t want to talk right now?

Suddenly, there was a hand on his head. Max flinched violently, head jolting painfully sideways.

What. The hell. When did Percy move. How did Max not see him move.

Percy’s hand pat his head, and there was warmth pressed along the left side of his body. In the space of about five seconds, Percy had managed to curl himself into a non-threatening ball resting on Max’s side, while putting practically no weight on the boy. He placed his head on top of Max’s hair, replacing his hand. His breathing was rocking both of them gently. The water of the lake lapped at the shore with the same rhythm, back and forth, slow and steady.

… This guy. He really had no sense of personal space. Max dragged his hands up in preparation to shove him into the water.

Percy seemed to sense the imminent danger and drew back just in time to avoid his watery grave.

“I got turned into a guinea pig, once.” Percy said casually, like that wasn’t the weirdest sentence Max had heard him say the entire time he’d been with him. 

It was meant to be a conversation starter, obviously. Turned into a guinea pig? What did that even mean? Did he mean it literally? It was something so ridiculous that anyone would ask what the fuck he was talking about. Max, however, wasn’t just anyone. He wouldn’t deny that it made him curious, though. Did Percy mean that literally? After the whole cow thing, Max wasn’t sure what to think of the other boy. He could be telling to complete and utter truth, or a bold-faced lie, and Max no longer trusted himself to decipher which it was.

“And I’ve vomited up a live rabbit.” Max said, instead of giving in and asking about it.

Boom. Now the ball was in Percy’s court. Your move, fucker. 

Percy either had less of a poker face than Max, or he really did not expect that, because his face was comical. He gathered himself together pretty quick, though, smoothing his expression over into polite curiosity. “Sounds like there’s an interesting story there.”

“Not really.” Max sniffed. Percy waited in silence for a few moments. The teen was trying to get him to talk. He wasn’t going to.

Percy groaned, exasperated, “Come on! I’m actually trying here! At least meet me in the middle. I won’t talk about the minotaur if you don’t want to. I’ll even take small talk, at this point. You like the weather today? Read any cool books recently? Watch any good shows?”

Max stayed resolutely silent.

“Ok, ok, fine. You win.” Percy grabbed him, supporting the grouchy ten year old’s weight under one arm, “Let’s just head back to the cabin. I think sleep will do both of us some good.”

Just to be spiteful, Max dug his nails hard into Percy’s arm, right where he’d bit him earlier. 

David tripped and fell hard on a rock. The curvature of the stone dug awkwardly into his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. Thankfully, it didn’t feel like anything was punctured. 

“Stupid—” He looked down at it, “Butterfly rock—? Again? What the heck?”

Chapter Text

Max hated to admit it, but this camp’s cabins were gorgeous. For one, they weren’t grimy, disgusting tents that looked like they’d fly away with the slightest breeze. The exterior was kind of ugly and plain— just blueish-white columns with some non-english characters carved above the door and a “III”, but the inside… damn. Assuming all of them looked like this, that is.

There was literally a marble fountain in the middle of the room. Saltwater too, if the smell was anything to go by. The entire cabin was dimly lit, blue light reflecting off the lightly churning water of the fountain, giving the illusion of being underwater. There was a singular bunk bed propped against the wall on the opposite side of the door, with a widely curved ladder leading up the the top bunk. Temperature-wise, it was on the cooler side by only a small margin, but the place felt cold. Empty. Lonely.

Overall, very pretty. Nice aesthetic. Max gave it a solid seven out of ten. Minus three points for being ocean themed— he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to sleep in here without feeling like he was drowning the entire time. If he managed to fall asleep somehow and got woken up in the middle of the night, he’d probably start flailing instinctively. Maybe experience some placebo choking-on-water.

Percy swung himself down onto the lower bunk, “Welcome to cabin three. The Poseidon cabin.”

“Is it called that because it’s ocean-y?”

Percy chuckled lightly, “Well, no. It’s called that because Poseidon’s kids stay here. Every god has a different themed cabin, so the ocean theme is because it’s Poseidon, not the other way around."

“Poseidon’s… kids?” Max narrowed his eyes at Percy, “Holy shit, you people think you’re gods?”

“What?” Percy flopped back, leaning against the wall, and gave Max a lopsided grin, “Nah, of course not. We’re demigods. The gods cheat on their partners all the time, and we’re the result.”

Max took back any fear he’d previously had of Percy. This guy was delusional. Delusional with some magic tricks up his sleeves. The pointer thing must’ve been a fluke. A trick of light or something. The pointer was pretty thin… And the cow could’ve been special effects. Like the trick Max himself had pulled on Daniel with a fake Xemug. 

Totally possible with the right materials. 

“Ok, but I’m not.” Max gestured to himself pointedly, “So why the fuck am I here.”

“Unclaimed demigods do usually stay in the Hermes cabin.” Percy said, like that meant anything to him, “But… I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be here. Just a hunch.”

“Your hunch is shit, man.” Max scowled, poking at the water in the fountain. Definitely seawater. Kind of disgusting, honestly. Was it even filtered? “I’m not even a demigod. Let alone the son of some old sea god.”

“Not a demigod?” Percy’s tone was teasing and playful, clearly happy that Max was talking to him again. “Really? But you wouldn’t be able to see through the mist if you weren’t, and you definitely wouldn’t be pursued by monsters.”

“See through the what?” Max turned to look at the teen, “You mean fog? Everyone can see through fog to some extent, dumbass. You ain’t special.”

Percy snorted unattractively, “Not fog. The mist. It’s what makes mortals unable to see our world. It covers up anything unnatural: they’ll see a fury as a really big vulture, a sword as a baseball bat, or a pegasus as a normal horse.” 

That… uh. Huh.

Max glanced off to the side. That sounded exactly like what he was seeing. So, there were a couple options here. The first was that everyone here really was just delusional, like he’d been thinking all along. The second was that Percy had been telling the truth the entire time, and a lot of what Max had thought he’d known about the world was untrue. Unfortunately, that theory was starting to sound more and more plausible, and it would explain just about everything he’d witnessed.

Both theories would end in a similar way; he’d be found out, and likely either be “gotten rid of” for lying, or if they weren’t feeling very murderous, kept hostage for knowing too much. Or maybe fed to a mythological monster.

He looked back at Percy, who tilted his head to the side curiously. The light reflections of the water made it look like his hair was moving without wind. His eyes were the same bright shade as ever, stormy seas and crashing waves pulsing in his irises.

Son of Poseidon, god of the ocean.

The fear from earlier curled somewhere between Max’s lungs and his stomach, making his chest feel tight.

Shit. He really had to get out of here. Fast.

Somehow, this… being… had mistaken Max for some messed up form of family. His eyes. Max had a similar eye color. Percy must’ve thought that meant Max was like him. That wouldn’t last long, probably.

Percy placed a hand on the bed and pat it invitingly. “You’re thinking too hard. Relax. It’ll be just like a sleepover! Without the staying-up-until-the-crack-of-dawn thing. Get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

Max forced a smile onto his face, “Sure, I’d love to! Goodnight!”

Percy immediately looked concerned, “Uh… that was a quick turn around. You ok?”

“Perfectly fine,” Max chirped with false cheer, doing that stupid little arm wave David always did when he was excited for something, “I can’t wait for tomorrow!”

“Are you sure?” Percy eyed him hesitantly, “I haven’t known you that long but I’m pretty sure this is you acting weird.”

“Just a little tired.” Max’s smile grew stiffer on his face, and he practically shoved Percy off the bed, “Sleep now.”

Percy climbed up onto the top bunk, “Ok then. See you in the morning.”

Max would make a break for it once the guy fell asleep.

Fuck. Max had been laying in the bed for at least twenty minutes, and he had no idea whether or not Percy was awake. His breath had been even the entire time, so the teen either immediately fell asleep, or was still awake.

Should he risk it? Or play it safe and wait an hour?

Lethargy was starting to creep in, the stress of the day tugging on Max’s limbs, begging him to stay where he was, to rest his tired body. He’d usually stave it off with coffee, but that wasn’t an option at the moment.

He couldn’t stay here. He wouldn’t.

If Percy was awake, he’d just have to be quiet. What were the chances that Percy was keeping an eye on him? Laying in bed for an hour would just make him fall asleep. Then he’d really be screwed. 

He slid the blanket off slowly, the blue fabric giving way with little resistance. The sound of ruffling the blanket— despite being rather quiet— made Max cringe a bit, pausing every few seconds to listen to the noises of the room. 

Percy didn’t move.

Max continued moving. 

The floor was cold tile. No risk of creaking floorboards like the ones at his house. He padded silently across the room, keeping to the parts of the walls where the light reflections of the fountain didn’t reach.

The doorknob gleamed bronze in the light, like Percy’s pointer. He wrapped his hand around it, twisted and pushed, as slowly as he could. 

The hinges creaked ominously.

He froze.

Nothing. No Percy snatching him by the collar or loud splashing.

He pushed the door open fully, slipped his shoes on, and ran.

Chapter Text

David was ready to give up. All these years of wilderness adventuring, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure this out. The vibes of the city must’ve gotten to this nature already, and it was messing with him.

Yeah, that sounded about right. Which meant that logically, he’d have to find someone from the city to help him. Nature person plus city person would mean assured victory! For navigation, that is. Historically speaking, the nearest person brandishing a knife was a solid choice. Or someone driving an unmarked white van and offering free candy. Now he just had to find the way back to his car. Hopefully he hadn’t lost that, too.

He sighed, and turned around. His car sat right over the hill he’d just been on.

“What?!” David ran a hand aggressively through his hair, tugging at the strands in a way that was borderline painful, “but—! No! How?!”

A loud crack snapped him out of it. On top of the hill he’d just gone over, stood a short silhouette with poofy hair. 

“David?!”

“Max?!”

David felt like crying. He might’ve messed up along the way, but the goal was achieved! Max found! Now to convince him to come back to the camp with David…

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Max dashed down the hill and practically threw himself at David, latching on the the bottom of the counselor’s shirt.

“Language. Max, what—?”

“Shut the hell up David, let’s go!” He tugged David towards the car, and David went along with it patiently. He lifted Max up, and the ten year old didn’t even try to fight him, settling on just glaring up at the counselor. He continued to cling onto David’s shirt. 

David carried him over to the car, putting him in the backseat, before hopping into the driver’s seat. Max slouched down in the backseat like something would spot him through the car window and come after him. What law had Max broken this time? Who had he ticked off? 

What had scared Max so bad that he was willingly going back to camp?

David hesitated, gripping the wheel tightly. He stared at the dark road in front of them. The sun had long since set, and there weren’t any streetlights out where they were. One of the headlights on the car was busted, too. Maybe there was somebody chasing after Max, but with the condition of the road it might’ve still been statistically safer to–

“PUNCH IT!” Max suddenly yelled from the backseat, kicking the back of David’s seat aggressively. 

David flinched and did just that, his foot slamming down on the gas pedal in surprise. The car lurched forward with a worrying screech, the smell of burning rubber sharp and jarring. David loosened up on the gas, and the engine sputtered in complaint, before obediently rolling down the road. 

They drove in silence for a bit. Eventually, David looked at the rearview mirror to find Max without his seatbelt on, perched precariously on top of the headrest of the backseat. He was peering through the back window of the car, staring out into the darkness behind them.

“Max,” David started, “I’ll tell you if there’s anyone following us. Can you please put your seatbelt back on?”

Max whipped around, a scowl set firmly on his childish features, “David, you wouldn’t notice someone following you if they walked a foot behind you and stabbed you with a pointer stick every couple minutes.”

Well… that was an oddly specific example. But David was pretty sure he’d remember Max doing that to him. Or just getting poked in general. Or stabbed, for that matter. Like Nurf. David definitely remembered that.

“I have three different mirrors I can look at, Max.” David countered calmly, “I’ll notice, I promise.”

Max huffed indignantly, but sat down. Didn’t put on a seatbelt though. David stopped the car and turned around to make eye contact with the boy. Max visibly panicked, giving another quick glance out the window, and pulled on his seatbelt.

“That’s better.” David put his foot back on the gas, and reached into the shopping bag sitting in the passenger’s seat. “So… good news, I have a new Farmer’s Almanac tape for us to listen to on the way back!”

It was the middle of the night, and Percy woke up stiff. Adrenaline rushed through his limbs with no real outlet, and the muscles in his back were locked up in a way that made a horrible imitation of sleep paralysis. He forced his body on its side, and it relaxed some, enabling him to move without pain. 

He exhaled softly, watching the flow of water on the walls of the cabin. In. Out. In. Out.  

It was calming, but also incredibly boring. Percy never really got meditation. He did get that it felt good and stuff, but how in Hades did people sit still long enough to get anything out of it? “Focus on you breath, empty your mind” was completely and utterly impossible. Just– not think? It sounded ridiculous. Demigod-given ADHD or not, there was no way anyone could do that. He’d said as much to Annabeth once, who’d made a quip about how he didn’t usually think anyways, so it should come naturally for him.

Very rude. But he had sort of walked into that one.

He flipped his body upright, stretching his arms above his head. 

He smacked his lips a little noisily. Anyways, why had he woken up? Usually it was nightmares or something, but he didn’t recall having a nightmare just now. And before you say anything, yes, Percy remembered his nightmares. Ever since… well, actually, he wasn’t entirely sure when exactly… but every nightmare he had he could remember vividly after he woke up. He swore it was some sort of curse, but everyone had assured him it wasn’t.

Total B.S., but who was he to say? Maybe he was just really unlucky. Actually, scratch that, he knew for a fact he was really unlucky, so it totally could just be that.

Now… where was he again? 

The bed creaked as he shifted. His eyes fell to the blankets covering his legs. 

Max.

Right! New sibling! 

… Who was probably sleeping soundly right now and would be pretty mad if Percy woke him up because he was feeling lonely in the middle of the night. He had to be pretty tired from the events of the day. The kid was probably out like a light the second his head hit the pillow.

But… It wouldn’t hurt to check… would it?

He peered over the side of the bunk. The sheets were skewed off to the side, no lump of tiny child in sight. 

Percy looked at the door, which was ever-so-slightly open.

Ah, so that was why he woke up. 

He leapt off the bed, not bothering to use the ladder, and poked his head out the cabin door. Max’s shoes were predictably gone, and a small trail of footprints in the mud led away from the cabin. 

That sneaky little– no wonder he’d been so eager to “go to sleep”. 

How did the kid not understand that it was dangerous out there? He didn’t even bother to grab a weapon before he left. He was going to get himself killed. 

Percy shoved his shoes on, and followed the tracks. Well, he couldn't have gone far. Time to hunt down his half-brother. 

Max’s footprints ended at the bottom of a hill, meeting larger footprints. A little ways away, there were tire tracks. Someone took him.

Percy stared down the road. A small trail of water led the same way, likely from the exhaust pipe. His eyes narrowed. Whoever it was, he would make them regret taking Max.

Chapter Text

Max drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the entire beginning of the ride, paranoia keeping him from outright passing out. David’s reassurances had somewhat placated him, but as he’d stated earlier, he wasn’t sure how much he trusted David’s awareness. 

The gentle rumbling of the motor felt like the purr of a really large cat. The Farmer’s Almanac tape droned on in the background, the content so boring and said in such a bland way that it managed to make Max feel even more exhausted. David, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of his life. He was humming along to a non-existent tune and occasionally providing commentary on the tape. He did, however, keep his promise, intermittently glancing at the rear view and side view mirror.

And then, right as Max was certain he wasn’t going to be able to keep himself awake any longer, the car stopped.

Max’s car door opened, and David peered into where Max was slouched on the seat, half asleep. “Hey Max, sorry to disturb you. What do you want to eat?”

“Huh?” Max’s voice was scratchy, his grogginess leaking into his tone, “Wha—? Camp? Where?”

“McDonald’s.” David’s voice was low, soft enough to not rouse Max fully awake. “You were gone for dinner at camp, so I figured we should stop to get you something on the way back.”

“Alrea’y ate.” Max rolled his head away from David.

“You did? Ok then. I’ll buy some chicken nuggets just in case. Are you okay with that?”

“Wha’ever.” Max curled, his seatbelt digging uncomfortably into his neck with the way he was positioned. Darn these non-short-people-friendly car designs. Not everyone was over five feet tall, assholes. 

And car companies wondered why there were so many deaths caused by people not wearing seatbelts. Well no shit, you wanna get comfy in the car? First thing coming off is the seatbelt. Even those third-party cushion attachment things didn’t help much. Oh, risk of death you say? Perhaps, but comfort always comes first. And seatbelts weren’t comfortable. Case in point.

David shut the car door quietly, and Max heard his shoes crunch against gravel, heading away from the car. Crickets chirped from the plants lining the side of the parking lot, filling in the space the lack of Farmer’s Almanac had left. The lot was well illuminated by streetlights, and David had parked the car in clear view of the front window of the McDonalds. 

There was no one in sight, and the streets were deserted. Nobody could snatch him here without David seeing.

Not even Percy.

Max let himself fall asleep.

Percy found himself awkwardly idling by where the road was. He knew the direction the kidnapper had driven off in, but should he go get someone else to go with him? Getting lost was unfortunately likely for him, and accidentally losing the trail would be devastating. He might never find Max again.

But… the water was starting to dry. If he waited any longer, there might not be a trail to lose. Well, there was no time like the present. He’d just have to IM Annabeth as soon as he got the opportunity to.

He followed the trail of water into the dark.

After about three minutes of following the slight tug in his naval that told him where the bits of water were, Percy was seriously considering turning around. This was ridiculous. He remembered the ride here in his Mom’s car, and the camp wasn’t exactly close to anything. Even if the car had left just five minutes before Percy, there was no way he was going to catch up before it evaporated. Even with Blackjack, they wouldn’t be able to fly that high, and it was just too dark, the Pegasus would likely crash into something before they could get anywhere.

Unless… Please let him have not left it in the cabin… there! He pulled it out of the pocket that didn’t contain Riptide. The cold whistle visibly gleamed even in the dim light of the moon, even though the material was so dark it was almost black. It’d been awhile. He blew on the whistle, and in just a few seconds, a huge hellhound bound out of the shadows, immediately covering his face in slobber.

“Mrs. O’Leary!” Percy ruffled his hands through the thick fur on her neck playfully. She gave a tremendous “woof!” in response, her tail swooshing loudly as it wagged.

“I missed you too! But there’s no time; I need your help, a friend of mine has been taken. Can you follow this?” He pointed down at the ground, where the water and faint tire marks were. The massive dog leaned her head over, snuffling at the trail, she looked back at Percy and lay on her stomach. He pulled himself onto her back, and they took off into the night.

Sometime between David leaving him in the car and picking up the food from the take-out counter, Max had fallen asleep. The boy didn’t stir as David closed the car door behind him, or at the greasy smell of fried food. 

David pulled out Gwen’s phone, ready to pull up the gps for the drive back. A battery symbol flashed mockingly on the screen, the red bar so low it hardly took up more than a few pixels. 

Gosh darn it. He didn’t carry a charger with him. 

Max looked so peaceful in the back, too. His face was the most relaxed David had ever seen it, and he was all hunched over on himself, curled in a comfortable little ball against the car door. The seatbelt looked a little painful, though. 

Waking him up to get his phone back wasn’t an option.

Well, it wasn’t like they could stay here. Time test his memory! And maybe pick up a map somewhere. 

He pulled out out of the parking space, drove onto one of the nearly-deserted roads, and up a ramp to the freeway. The lights of the city that never slept shone in the distance, shining like the stars that couldn’t be seen because of them. There were no headlights behind him at any point during the trip. No suspicious individuals lurking in the dark that he could see. Nothing that suggested there was anyone following them. So why was Max so certain there was? Maybe it had been a fluke? After all, Max did fall asleep, and David was decently certain that Max was much too cautious to fall asleep if he thought he was in any danger. Perhaps somebody had been pursuing the kid on foot. Once they were far enough way, Max knew there was no way anyone could catch up with the car and viewed it as safe.

David shrugged to himself, pulled out a small packet of McDonald’s apple slices to snack on, and turned up the volume of the stereo just loud enough to hear the voice of the narrator. Well, whatever or whoever it was, they were long gone now. 

Mrs. O’Leary stopped at a McDonalds, for whatever reason. She snuffled around the parking lot for a bit, grunting at random spots. Percy sighed from her back, “Is this your way of telling me you’re hungry?”

Chapter Text

The camp’s reaction to David and Max’s return was unsurprisingly lukewarm. Some of the campers thought Max had just wandered off at some point like usual and even fewer realized David had ever left. They didn’t even bother sticking around to ask them questions.

Neil and Nikki were glad to see them, at least.

Nikki bound up to Max like a dog who’d waited all day at the door for their owner to come back from work, practically glomping on him. He caught her to the best of his ability, which meant they fell over and David had to catch both of them. Neil made his way over after, but wrapped his arms around them nonetheless.

Ah… he’d… kind of missed this. Well, not the camp. Or the people. Just, well, shut up. He didn’t miss it. He didn’t. 

David swept all three of them up in a hug and carried them over to where Gwen was lounging outside the mess hall. 

“Welcome back, Satan. How’d the city treat you?” Gwen was smiling, almost. 

“Nice to see you too, bitch. The city was fine. I had good food for once, while you got stuck eating this garbage. Anything interesting happen?”

“Please, you’re the cause of everything around here and you know it.” Max smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes, “The last two days have been quiet by this place’s standards. The only thing you missed was Space Kid somehow ending up at the bottom of the lake. It took, like, two hours to fish him out. It wasn’t even that funny. More annoying.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though that may have been because I was actually the one that had to fish him out this time. Thought he was gonna drown after a half hour; that kid can really hold his breath, goddamn.”

Ok, so he hadn’t missed anything. Good. 

“Where’re the kids?” David questioned.

“In the hall. Started a food fight and I didn’t want to get involved. This is my last semi-clean shirt.”

Max glanced back at Nikki, who grinned back sharkily. Neil looked done with life. Poor guy didn’t understand the simple joy of throwing nasty food at someone else’s face. 

Max kicked the door of the mess hall in, unleashing Nikki on the oblivious fools inside. He walked in after a few seconds, hands in his pockets.

Sweet merciless chaos. It was good to be back.

Gwen was glad Max was okay. Look, she wasn’t David levels of affection for the kid or anything, but he did single-handedly make the camp experience more entertaining. Besides, he was practically her insurance that the camp wouldn’t shut down— he wouldn’t let it. Which meant she could keep her job, even if the pay was shitty and the hours were unreasonable. 

… She still had yet to find a different workplace that would accept her application.

Overall though, Max being safe meant her having a bit more financial stability, so it was win-win that David found him. Her co-counselor got his favorite camper back, Max got to stay at camp and experience love he probably didn’t get at home, and she got to suffer from mediocre success. Better than nothing, at least. 

Besides, she could usually swindle David into doing the hard work and just sit on the sidelines. Make some excuse about watching over for safety or something.

Like right now. David got to take the kids on a hike up to the currently inactive volcano, and she got to sit in the counselor’s cabin watching rom-coms with the flimsy excuse of, “someone has to watch out for those loan sharks, David.”

Ha! Now she was glad she took care of the camp bills instead of him, otherwise he’d know those loans had been paid off after the whole fundraiser incident.

Max’s devious little plot had actually earned them over the amount they needed, and he’d graciously agreed to hand over half the profits— for a price, of course. Double dessert for a week, ten candy bars of his choice, and a get out of a camp activity free card (and no David, it can’t be overruled). 

Which, Gwen thought, as she watched the two protagonists of the movie yell accusations of cheating at one another, was totally worth it.

This was perfect. What could go wrong?

There were a few sharp knocks at the door.

Fuck, she just had to go and think that, didn’t she. Maybe it was just a camper that got left behind, please just let that be Ered or something.

Another quick series of knocks, in a funny little nonsensical pattern.

She groaned, gave herself a quick mental pep talk, and threw open the door. There was a teen standing outside, hand raised to knock again. Dark hair, tan, bright orange t-shirt with what looked like the silhouette of a Pegasus, and unnaturally blue eyes that reminded her a bit of Max. Not a camper, then. They only had one teen, and that was Ered. This was clearly not Ered.

She picked carelessly at a nail, feigning complete disinterest. “Look man, these are private grounds, and you don’t look like a dangerous psycho, but we haven’t actually run the kids through a drill on evacuations in the case of an emergency. So unless you’re willing to be put through some Home Alone shit, I’d highly recommend leaving.”

The teen blinked a little incredulously at her, silently mouthing “home alone?”, before shaking his head lightly. Had this kid never heard of Home Alone before? How old were those movies, again? Was that normal nowadays? Fuck, was Gwen getting old?

… Nah, what was she thinking? She wasn’t old yet. This guy was just uncultured.

“Hardcore pranked. Like, having a hot iron dropped on you from a story up. Actual painful shit you don’t wanna go through.”

“Oh.” The teen smiled politely, “No, I’m not here to intrude or anything. Not staying long enough for… uh… that. Just a little lost. I’m looking for my brother? Kinda looks like me? If I were five, that is. His name is Max.”

Now Gwen was no expert on Max’s home life, but she was pretty fucking sure he didn’t have a brother. And she was definitely sure he didn’t have one that would come looking for him at camp. Ooh, someone got into some deep shit. “City was fine” her ass. Something happened, obviously. 

“Hold please.” She slammed the door in his face and grabbed a random file from the cabinet. She opened the door again and very loudly rifled through the papers, mimicking that condescending clicking noise the secretaries of rich fucks made when dealing with someone that wasn’t part of the top two percent.

She snapped the file shut. That little shit probably deserved what was coming to him, but… “No, sorry. You must’ve got the wrong address. No Max here.” Gwen wasn’t nearly cruel enough to do what Max wouldn’t hesitate to do to her.

Besides, Max would’ve squirmed his way out to pay her back tenfold. And, as she said before, he was her insurance. 

“Really?” The kid deflated, groaning, “Gods dang it. C’mon Mrs. O’Leary, we gotta keep going.”

He waved at something (someone? Who was Mrs. O’Leary?) behind him, and from the side of the camp car, out leapt a giant poodle. 

“Cute dog.” Max liked dogs, didn’t he? Maybe he tried to steal this guy’s pet and that was why this kid was pursuing him.

The teen gave her a secretive little smile, seemingly amused at some joke she wasn’t in on. “Yeah, she’s quite adorable, isn’t she?”

“Mhm.” Gwen grunted, and yawned, “So, you need anything else or…?”

“Nope. Sorry for bothering you.” He gave a few short whistles at his poodle, which growled and barked back. The bark didn’t sound at all like a poodle, but then again, with genetic modification nowadays, who knew? He frowned at the dog, giving a few sharper whistles, and even started gesturing wildly with his arms. The dog ignored him, snuck its snout into the ground, and wandered around the area for a bit, before plopping down beside the flagpole. The giant poodle yawned, seemed to decide that’d be a great place to take a nap, curled up, and started sleeping. 

The teen looked as incredulous as Gwen felt.

“Mrs. O’Leary!” The kid huffed, “Come on! I know you’re tired, I am too, but this is important! We have to catch up with him! He could be dying right now!”

… ok, what the actual fuck was happening right now? Max? Dying? The kid had seemed fine earlier?

“Dying?” Gwen prodded, definitely not because she cared.

“Oh,” the teen suddenly looked nervous, shifting on his feet. He scratched the back of his neck with one hand, “yeah… my brother has… a condition… that um, creates illusions? That feel really real to him and like it could actually hurt him.” He nodded to himself, seemingly pleased with his absolutely horrendous lie, “It’s passed down. From our dad, that is. Genetic. I’ve dealt with it too, which is why I’m trying to find him now. He could really be in danger.”

Ok, that was total B.S. he made up on the spot. This kid was a terrible liar. But the last sentence hadn’t felt like a lie, which meant the teen really truly believed Max was at risk of dying at the moment.

Which was concerning, to say the least. But Max would say something if he was in danger, wouldn’t he? He hadn’t hesitated to voice his opinions in the past.

… yeah. Max was fine. She wouldn’t have to worry about her favorite camper dying. She wouldn’t have to fill out the lengthy paperwork for a dead camper. There must’ve been some misunderstanding on this kid’s part at some point. 

Now, to get him and his oversized dog out of here before the group came back. Ideally with enough time to finish up the last episode so she could finally find out if Jake and Lola got back together. She did not wait an entire year for the release of the last season to have it ruined by some lost and confused teenager and the over-complicated, likely sadistic plot of a nihilistic ten year old.

Chapter Text

He wouldn’t budge. Well, not the kid, she supposed. Mainly the dog. Who was still happily curled up by the flagpole. And was unreasonably heavy for its size. Trying to move it reminded Gwen of trying to tip a truck up without a carjack— it just wasn’t going to happen. Seriously, where was this weight coming from? It was a big dog, but it certainly wasn’t that big.

It didn’t help that the teen had started poking around the camp curiously. He hadn’t gone into any of the tents or buildings yet, thank fuck, but based on the look on his face, he was getting pretty close to it.

Gwen started lightly smacking the snout of the poodle, who just chuffed at her, making her hair feel sticky and gross. She grimaced, wiping a hand down her face despite the lack of liquid.

Yeah, she was not paid enough for this.

A rustling in the bushes caught her attention, and she eyed the suspiciously shaking shrubbery for a second before shrugging it off. Probably those insane squirrels again. 

The teen didn’t seem to think so. He’d jogged over quickly after the initial noises, hand drifting towards his back pocket. His eyes were narrowed at the greenery, trying to spot whatever was making the noises.

“Don’t camp often?” Gwen asked dryly, with one hand stuck under the giant poodle’s head.

“Not… exactly. No. Why?” He asked, tone flat and not sounding at all interested in the answer. His eyes remained steadily on the bushes.

“You’d be used to weird forest noises by now.” 

“Ah. That makes sense, I guess.”

The shrubs rumbled threateningly again and he immediately tensed. He was now close enough that Gwen could make out his hand wrapping around something thin and brownish, a pen, maybe?

Something red and gray leapt out with a fierce roar, tearing towards the teen, who now somehow had a baseball bat (Where the actual fuck did that come from?) And was swinging it hard at the figure.

David was once more on track to having a great time. Sure, the campers were a little less than enthusiastic to get up early to go hiking, but they were still doing it!

Max included.

Nikki had taken the charge— she knew the path pretty well at this point, and Neil was up there with her to keep her from going off road. Nerris and Harrison seemed to be having some argument about… mysterious arcane forces? Harrison was insisting that there was something present at the campsite and that it’d be dangerous to go back. Nerris agreed on the first part, but wanted to go check it out. (“Relax, Harrison. I rolled a twenty for stealth. All we gotta do is just sneak in, see what’s going on, and report back!” “That is possibly the worst idea I’ve heard all summer, and that’s saying something.”) The cool kids were lagged a little ways behind the magic duo, and Space Kid was tagging along beside them, stop at every little thing that interested him on the way.

Max was predictably last. The kid was walking along a little ways behind the cool kids, kicking at anything loose on the path. His face was carefully neutral, but there were small wrinkles around his eyes, betraying his stress.

David slowed his pace to Max’s, shortening his steps so as to not immediately walk past the short boy. The kid glared up at him.

“The fuck do you want? Aren’t you supposed to be making sure we don’t walk off a cliff or something?”

David smiled fondly, “Max, look, I’d say we’re out of the woods, but really we’re much deeper in them now—” he laughed awkwardly at his joke, and Max scowled harder, “— but seriously. Whatever was after you back there is long gone. Do you wanna tell me about what happened? It might make you feel better.”

Max scoffed, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, “Fuck off, David. Nothing happened. Whatever you think is going on, isn’t. And even if it was, it’s none of your business. Got it?”

“Ok Max.” David sighed, and continued at the speed Max was walking, “but if you change your mind…”

“Fuck. Off. How many times do I gotta say it? Take a hint, dumbass.”

David held his hands up in surrender. Clearly, Max was still scared of something. Or was embarrassed. Either way, it didn’t seem like the kid was going to open up at the moment. He’d have to try again later. 

Well, tomorrow. The sun was already starting to set.

“Nikki! Neil!” David hollered so the kids at the front could hear, “It’s getting dark, so we’re gonna double back, okay?”

“Okay!” He heard Nikki call back, “We were about to walk off a cliff so you’ve got great timing!”

…

Well, so much for trusting Neil to stop Nikki’s crazy ideas— her wildness must’ve been too much for the science kid to handle. 

Max snorted, “Would you look at that, Camp Man. You managed to accomplish something. Not letting us young campers accidentally kill ourselves. Congrats!”

“Max,” David’s voice held a backless warning, “I know you’ve had a rough couple days, but that doesn’t mean you have to be so negative. Have you ever tried being nice? Maybe you’ll enjoy it.”

The ten year old gave him a flat look, “Being nice would mean getting trampled all over—you know, like you. I don’t see how anyone could like that. I ain’t a fucking doormat. If anything, I'm a Lego. You try to step on me, all you get is pain.”

“Being nice doesn’t have to mean being a doormat. Or, an, uh… Lego? You don’t have to go out of your way to accommodate people. You just need manners. Common courtesy can go a long way. Like holding a door open for someone. Giving up your seat for elderly on public transport. Even something as simple as saying please and thank you can light up someone’s day!”

Max’s lip curled in distaste, “Please. That’s fuckin’ dumb. Nobody holds the door open for me, so why would I hold it for them? And I never take public transport. This is the U.S., I take a car like everyone else to do my part in destroying the environment. And I do say please and thank you. That doesn’t make me nice.”

“You’re missing the point.” The camp was nearly in view, now, and David couldn’t wait to sink into bed with his thoughts. Organize some of the recent events, and maybe try to figure out what happened by himself. Or at least get some ideas he could hint to Max later. “It’s not about—”

Max tensed suddenly, and not-so-subtly ducked behind David’s legs. His eyes were wide, staring at something on the campground. David followed his gaze, and found what looked like… a teenager? Sword fighting the quartermaster?

What?

Chapter Text

Holy Hera, this one was one tough hobo. At first, when the guy leapt out of the bushes snarling and growling like a rabid dog that saw a sausage stand, Percy— like any sane individual who could see through the mist— assumed it was a monster. And even after a few seconds of clashing, still did. The stereotypically crotchety old man was clearly reacting to Riptide like a sword, slashing and blocking Percy’s strikes with a… hook… hand? 

Wow, did people really get prosthetics like that nowadays? Percy was pretty sure that only happened in pirate movies. This was one very poorly disguised monster, that was for sure. 

I mean seriously, a hook hand? That’s clearly just an excuse to have a weapon. It wasn’t practical in any way, how in Hades could you pick up anything without stabbing it?!

The woman from earlier was standing off to the side, wide-eyed, mouth gaped open in obvious confusion. She was eyeing the old guy with a bit of concern, but mainly exasperation. He must’ve already integrated himself here, gaining the friendships of the innocent people in the area, because based on her behavior, she was mortal. He had no idea what she was seeing right now, but it probably wasn’t the fight to the death Percy currently found himself in.

“Hey! I do not wanna deal with a dead body, or the paperwork that comes with it, got it?”

… or this guy regularly attacked people and the mist was really good at fooling them into thinking that was normal behavior. 

A downward slash from his opponent forced Percy’s lackluster attention span back onto the old guy. He parried with Riptide, the metallic ring of celestial bronze against iron was screechy and unpleasant, even to someone who was used to sparring. Old man crazy saw an opportunity that Percy saw just a second later. A second to late, as he could only watch in dismay as Riptide was, well, ripped out of his hand.

See, a hook happens to be curved, meaning that while it was absolutely terrible at picking things up in the same way a limb with an opposable thumb can, it unfortunately had a better grabbing ability than a straight sword. Disarming someone who was using a sword with your own sword was simple, all you had to twist your blade around theirs in a way that forced their wrist in an uncomfortable angle, usually backwards, and/or the opposite direction of the hand they were using, and human nature would demand them to not risk breaking their wrist and they’d let go. The main thing about that method was that any good swordsman would see it coming from a mile away and would have a counter.

Percy, while being a decent swordsman, did not regularly fight monsters that used a sword. Or, in this case, a hook hand, and was just a tad unprepared.

When Percy parried, he left Riptide in the curve on the hook for a brief moment to stop the swing, and in the process, left the old guy with a tiny window to flick his arm at an angle and easily force Percy’s sword out of his grip.

And so Percy was left unarmed in the face of what was likely a monster still in a disguise, with a weapon out of a 90’s American country horror film about a farmer. 

Not ideal.

Fortunately, when it came to combat, Percy was excellent at improv and taunting. All villains liked to talk about themselves— many could literally monologue for hours. And Percy just so happened to have a magic sword that would return to him like a boomerang, minus the risk of head injuries, and with bonus surprise factor. 

So, all he had to do was stall until Riptide decided to deign Percy with its presence once more. Easy enough.

“So, you gonna tell me what your evil master plan is now, or…?”

Brilliant, Percy. My gods, who taught you these conversational skills?

Okay, so maybe a long day followed by an all-nighter consisting of tracking a car on Mrs. O’Leary’s back wasn’t great for Percy’s cognitive ability, you have to give him a bit of a break. 

Old dude’s eyes narrowed, and his hook gleamed dangerously in the orange light of the sunset. “I don’t know what you are, boy, but you ain’t supposed to be here.”

Well that was weird. This guy didn’t know what he was? 

“Who are you to tell me where I’m not supposed to be?” Percy asked, partially curious, and partially wondering why in Tartarus he hadn’t revealed his monstrous form and loudly declared his name and title yet.

“Don’t matter who I am,” the old man’s voice was low, a bit of growl tinting his words, “Leave. This is our land. I ain’t gonna tolerate something like you here. You’re trouble.”

“Woah, ok, let’s all relax, take a step back,” it was the woman from earlier, “Quartermaster, stop being… uh… species… ist? I'm a little confused about that part, sorry. And kid, please stop provoking the Quartermaster. I wasn’t joking earlier. I really do not want to deal with the paperwork that comes with someone dying on the campgrounds, capiche?”

The newly dubbed “Quartermaster” grunted, spit on the ground, nasty, and left back towards the woods where he’d jumped out. Just before reaching the trees, he turned his head nearly a hundred and eighty degrees and with the hand that wasn’t a hook, made the universal “I’m watchin’ you, boy” sign. 

“Well,” the woman clapped her hands together, “that wasn’t awkward at all. Look, kid—”

“Percy.” He provided helpfully.

“Look, Percy.” The woman corrected, “I get you’re here for a good reason and all, but, no offense, I think you should leave. Like, now. Or the Quartermaster might murder you in your sleep and like, I dunno, feed you to the squirrels or something.”

“Aren’t squirrels herbivores?”

“Not the ones around here. Pretty sure a couple of ‘em tried to roast David over a fire last time they took over the camp.”

What? Just, what? There was so much wrong with that sentence. Though, considering his life, Percy supposed he didn’t have much room to judge. 

The girl’s eyes drifted over Percy’s head, and she froze for a second, “Yeah okay, you need to leave. Grab your stupid-heavy dog, who is disgustingly cute for something so huge, and skedaddle on over to the next town, maybe you’ll find your brother over there, K?”

That wasn’t suspicious at all. Percy turned his head to look over his shoulder at whatever she spotted earlier. She grabbed his shoulders and forcefully led him forward, a tight grin settling on her face. 

“You need to go. Disappear, just be anywhere but here.” There was a bit of a manic gleam in her eyes, focused entirely on something behind him, “Go away before someone sees.” She did an awkward little jerking motion with her head.

Percy deadpanned, not that she saw it, considering she wasn’t even looking at him. 

He very subtly glanced over his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t see the Quartermaster looming over him with a hook raised. It wasn’t.

… well, that wasn’t what he expected.

Chapter Text

Fucking shit fuck motherfucking what the fuck was this guy doing here?!

Max tucked himself behind David’s suddenly very noticeably scrawny legs. 

Holy shit. If Percy looked over here he’d definitely see him. This was bad. How the actual fuck did he find him? Did the guy follow them here?! Did Percy have some magical tracking device on him? Could he hide somewhere? Campbell’s attic, maybe? Elevation usually threw off tracking devices, right? As long as Percy didn’t know there was an attic, he’d assume the tracker was off because it’d just lead him to the middle of the mess hall, right?

Max could practically feel David’s confusion. The idiot was staring blankly at where Percy was swinging his pointer stick at the Quartermaster, who was bravely fending off the teen with his hook hand. 

Go Quartermaster! Max had never rooted for that rabid psychopath as much as he was right now. Kick his ass out of camp! Take a chunk of his stupidly good looking hair while you’re at it!

The Quartermaster knocked Percy’s stick (maybe sword?) out of his hand. Which, from what Max remembered, didn’t last very long. Guy either had a backup somewhere or was really good at illusion magic. Or maybe just magic in general. Some ‘accio’-esque fuckery.

He should just throw Harrison at Percy and see what would happen. Maybe Percy would realize the magic kid was abnormal too and abscond with him. Ideally totally forgetting about Max’s existence in the process. 

Harrison wasn’t exactly the most expendable person at camp— someone had to keep Nerris distracted, after all— but they could live without him. Besides, Max had to get back at the jerk for the whole ‘vomit up shit that shouldn’t go in the human body to get back at Neil and Max wasn’t even involved in that argument, asshole’ thing. That was uncomfortable as hell. He still felt rabbit fur and dove feathers tickling the back of his throat, sometimes.

Ok, back to the present. Gwen had stepped into the fray like a fucking idiot. The way she had her hands splayed said she was trying to play peacemaker. The glares being exchanged between Percy and the Quartermaster said they didn’t care.

And then Gwen said something that made the Quartermaster back off. Bitch! He was the only hope! Who’s gonna get rid of Percy now? David?

Gwen was talking to the teen now, clapping her hands together with that grimace she had when introducing an activity to the campers she knew would end in disaster. She made eye contact with Max, and like the shit secret keeper she was, froze, which was absolutely the worst move possible. Max knew for a fact she was a better liar than this, what the hell? Percy’s head started to turn, and for once in the entire ordeal, Gwen made the correct choice, grabbing him by the shoulders and backpedaling. She made a jerky motion with her head, and Max took his cue.

He sprinted full speed to the nearest greenery, flinging his conveniently tiny body behind the trunk of a thicker tree. 

David was still standing there, the look on his face akin to a rather dumb goldfish. His eyes had drifted off of the teen and onto— ooh, was that a dog?! Adorable, and it looked so fluffy! He wanted— no. Absolutely not, he was not leaving the safety of this tree until Percy was far far away.

But… dog… cute…

NO! He stopped himself just short of slapping his cheek. That’d make noise, and he couldn’t afford that right now. 

Look at something else. Like David’s stupid face. Which, at the moment, was completely drained of color. His skin was somehow an even pastier shade of white, freckles Max had somehow never noticed now standing out.

What the? Why did David look so panicked? He hadn’t already met Percy, had he? 

That… wasn’t a dog.

The hellish canine had a monstrous head resting on its forelegs, blacker-than-black fur twisting the light around it unnaturally, making the shadows seem longer than they were. Drool dribbled down from exposed fangs, each tooth at least the length of David’s finger. The teeth were proportional to the rest of the hound, its figure huge against the wall of the mess hall. 

The rise and fall of its back was slow and steady. The beast was asleep.

The teen who’d fought the Quartermaster earlier was looking at him now, an exasperated expression on his face. Gwen, who was standing right behind the boy, had visible relief all over her face, miming a ‘phew, that was close’ at him with a hand on her forehead, before giving him a thumbs up.

Oh. Max. Right. This must’ve been the mysterious pursuer from the city. Thankfully, as Gwen had so helpfully gestured, the teen hadn’t seen the camper yet. 

He inched his way towards them, giving the monstrous dog as wide of a berth as he could without being too obvious.

“Hello there! That was quite the entrance you made! I’m David, Gwen’s co-counselor! And you are…?” He kept his voice quieter than he usually would've, sticking his hand out as he usually did.

The teen looked him over, accessing, before accepting the handshake with a surprisingly firm grip. Teenagers tended to keep handshakes as short and light as possible, but not this kid, it seemed.

“Percy Jackson, at your service.” His grin was wolfish, baring sharper than usual canines. Every survival instinct he had was screaming at him to run. That he had to get away. That this boy was dangerous. 

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Percy!” David said cheerfully, instead of acting on his reflexive response. “What brings you to our wonderful camp?”

“I’m looking for my brother.” Brother? But no one here had the last name— “His name is Max.”

Oh. Huh. Well that was… quite the claim. Now, David wouldn’t claim he knew everything about Max’s family. He could guess, sure, he could theorize all he wanted, but at the end of the day Max was not very open with any personal information. And his half-hearted paperwork didn’t help at all.

But… David was decently certain Max didn’t have a brother. Though Percy did kind of look like him… and Max had implied his parents didn’t have a great relationship… so, maybe?

“I already told him we didn’t have a Max here.” Gwen shrugged, face carefully blank, “Checked the records and everything just in case. You go into town more though; you know anywhere nearby kids might hang out?”

So that was the route she’d taken. Smart. Max would be glad to play along, and it would make it quick and easy to get this guy out of camp.

“Hmm,” David pretended to think for a few seconds, scrunching his eyes into a half-squint, “Honestly? Not really. The town’s kind of old school. Neil’s showed some interest in the old tech shop down there, but I don’t ever see any other kids. There’s another town an hour’s drive west, though. I heard they just opened a theme park. You might have more luck over there.”

Gwen’s eyes shone approvingly over Percy’s shoulder.

Percy sighed exaggeratedly loud, and his gaze drifted over to the monster. He whistled, the noise sharp, and the ears of the hound perked up. The dog rose to its feet, shaking off like it had just walked out of water. It bounded over, its steps almost shaking the ground. Somehow, the canine looked even larger standing. 

It lowered its head to ruffle Percy’s hair, and then turned its blood-red gaze onto David. The crimson pools of its eyes seemed to bore into David’s very soul, and it shuffled closer, fiery hot breath rolling over David’s face. The redheaded camp counselor stood still, afraid that any sudden movement would set the dog off.

It snuffled, yawned, and turned away. Percy grabbed its collar and hoisted himself onto its back.

“Well, sorry for bothering you guys. Thanks for the tip. I guess I’ll be off, then.”

And then, like some deity wanted them to suffer as much as possible, the rest of the campers came waltzing onto the campgrounds, Nikki and Neil in the lead. 

“David! Gwen! Where’s Max? I wanna show him this cool snake I found!”

Chapter Text

Nikki had her head tilted innocently to the side, not at all understanding the situation she’d just put them in. What was this, an over dramatic tension scene from a poorly-written found family fanfiction? Gwen, for one, could not believe it was possible for anyone to have timing as poor as Nikki did, and this camp wasn’t exactly known for being… um, tactful? There was a word for it, probably, but not one she could think of at the exact moment. Murphy’s Law? Did that work in this context?

And it had been going so well, too… David hadn’t even ruined it this time. He was surprisingly good at lying, actually. Almost a little worryingly so. That whole spiel was… actually kind of smooth. She would’ve believed him, if she didn’t know for a fact Max did, unfortunately, exist at the camp.

The teenager, who she now knew was named Percy, stopped his apparently-big-enough-to-ride poodle dead in its tracks, and had his eyes narrowed at Nikki. The girl looked straight back, a slight furrow between her brows. He turned his sharp gaze onto David.

“Not here, huh?” The boy’s voice was low, a bit of a growl, even.

Nikki’s eyes widened. Gwen started to panic. Shit. Shit shit shitshit shit! She could save this, she just… needed a moment to think–

“ImaginARY FRIEND!” David blurted out, loudly. 

She took back everything nice she ever said about his lying skills. They were shit. 

“Nikki has an imaginary friend,” he continued, seeing everyone dubious looks. He lowered his voice from his earlier panic, but still kept it noticeably louder, allowing the campers to hear what he was saying from the edge of camp. “Who uh, just so happens to be named Max?”

God damn it, David. If you’re gonna lie at least sound confident. 

“Right,” Percy drawled, obviously not buying it, “And this didn’t come up earlier, why, exactly?”

“Wasn’t relevant.” Gwen decided it was a good time to cut in, before the color of David’s face came any closer to matching his hair. “I mean, you’re clearly looking for a real kid. Nikki’s… imaginary friend Max isn’t, you know, real. So like, why would we bring it up?”

Gwen knew what David had been trying to do earlier, and honestly, it could work. She stressed that “imaginary friend Max” part a little much and a little too loudly, but she had to get the point across, and hopefully, it would–

“What? Max isn’t imaginary.”

Goddamnit Nikki, work with us! Thankfully, Nikki was meant to be the slightly delusional one in this situation, and Neil, despite not being all that great at social interactions, was still a very intelligent kid capable of picking up on conversation cues. 

He sighed, loudly, and rolled his eyes. “Come on, Nikki, not this again. I thought we went over this already! I don’t know if you have some deep-set trauma or something, but you really gotta stop. Seeing you talk to air is kind of depressing.”

The green-haired girl blinked at him in utter confusion. “Neil? What are you talking about? We’ve hung out with Max before! We go on adventures together all the time!”

Neil looked at her consideringly, “Hmm, wow. You really believe that, don’t you? Maybe we should get you checked… Completely unrelated, Nikki, but do you know if anyone in your family had schizophrenia? Or anything similar?”

“What?” She looked even more lost now, the poor girl. Gwen would have to make sure she got some extra desert later or something. “Come on guys, you know Max.”

She turned to the other campers, who seemed to have caught on. Many, like Ered and Nurf, just shrugged at her. Others, like Nerris and Preston, had gone off on dramatic tangents about defending Nikki from the curse of her own mind or something. Space kid was off to the side, looking confused as well, but thankfully didn’t seem all that tempted to say anything.

Even Percy looked a little confused now. He was staring at the campers, obviously trying to decide whether or not they were telling the truth. David was hunched over a little suspiciously, but that was probably fine. He was weird enough that they could pass that off as a little quirk.

Nikki was growing more and more frantic, trying to convince her fellow campers of Max’s existence. 

Holy shit, they might actually pull this off.

“You know Max, right Wolf-Boy?! You’re looking for him or something?!”

Or it could backfire terribly. That could happen too. Well, it was good while it lasted. Maybe Max had made a clever retreat while they were talking and was now too deep in the woods for Percy to find. Like at that bomb shelter thing David told her about before. “If anyone’s ever missing or I’m acting weird, be sure to check the bomb shelter!” “The what?!”

Sounded like a legit place to hide out, dubiously legal existence or not. 

Or maybe they’d get lucky, and Percy would believe Nikki was crazy and just say, “No, sorry.” Like a sane individual.

“Yes, actually. I am looking for a Max. Mind describing him for me?”

Or he could ask something sensible like that and they were, in fact, shit out of luck.

“Well, you know,” Nikki waved a hand in the air, “He’s Max!”

… Come on come on come on this was still possible–

“What’s he look like?” Percy asked, gently, eyes rounded out and all innocent.

“He looks like Max!”

Percy’s eye twitched. Gwen felt a small bloom of hope unfurl in her chest for the first time since this lie started. This was unbelievable. Utterly insane. If you’d made Gwen watch a TV show that had an episode with a plot that had this exact dialogue– well, she would’ve watched it anyways, but she wouldn’t have found it believable, that’s for sure.

Thank god for Nikki’s obliviousness. And everyone else’s non-obliviousness.

Percy huffed, visibly a little impatient now, “I mean features. What color’s his hair, his eyes?”

Nikki rocked back and forth on her heels, a devious little smile making its way onto her face, “Mmm, I dunno. Max’s hair is the color of Max’s hair. Same for his eyes.”

Holy shit... she was messing with him. She figured it out. At some point in between her running over here and now, she’d gotten the hint and rolled with it, bless her wild little animalistic heart.

She “hmm”-ed thoughtfully, “I think he’s blond, though! Yeah! Like the sun! Or a banana. Very yellow hair. And his eyes are like the moon! Grey and sad looking.”

The teenager groaned, and seemingly finding it a lost cause, steered his canine steed back towards the entrance of the camp.

Holy fuck, they’d pulled it off.

She watched with a satisfied sort of trepidation as the large paws of the dog carried the boy along the dirt road and gradually out of sight. 

Nikki gripped the bottom of Gwen’s shorts, “So, what was that about?”

“Nothing much,” Max stepped out from a tree he’d been hiding behind, smirking like he'd already known how the situation would turn out. “Don’t worry about it Nikki. Just some loose end from the city.”

David smiled up at the kid tightly from where he was still a little hunched, “Some loose end. That thing scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“I’d say I think that’s the last we’ll see of him, but I’m not an idiot.” Gwen sniffed, “Guaranteed he’ll come back at some point. Don’t let your guard down yet.”

Chapter Text

David was… a little worried, to say the least. Now, he didn’t like vulgarities or looking at the negative side of things, but what the actual heck was that? 

They’d sent the kids off to their tents for the next couple hours, until QM had dinner prepared. The camp was simultaneously eerily still and abuzz with activity, the hushed murmurs of curious campers drifting out from their tents.

Ok, mental checklist, manage some things, figure out what takes priority: one, Max was safe, for now. Two, there was a high chance Percy had some way to track Max, considering he was one hundred percent sure they weren’t followed back to camp. He’d even taken some funky backroad shortcuts through the more lively areas, just in case. Three, this meant there was a high chance he’d come back, like Gwen said.

Was there anything else he was forgetting? 

Oh, right. The massive freaking monster he’d had with him.

That was in no way normal. David liked to think he had a pretty good grip on all things nature, and that included animals. He might not be able to give the exact scientific name of some obscure creature only seen once at the bottom of the Mariana Trench— but generally speaking, if you pointed at something, he’d be able to tell you what it was, along with a fun fact and whether or not it was okay to touch. Or in some cases, cough, Nikki, safe to put in your mouth. Not that he could really stop her, but at least he’d have the foreknowledge of some quick first-aid if needed.

And that thing? He’d never even heard of anything remotely similar, let alone seen. He knew for a fact that the mastiff was the largest breed of domesticated dog, and the monster Percy had been with was at least triple the size of the average mastiff, if not more.

“Hey,” Gwen’s neutral monotone broke him out of his internal monologue, “Jeez, you’re really worried about this, aren’t you? I mean come on, that kid was a little weird, but by our standards? Nothing out of the ordinary. At the end of the day, he’s just some kid. Worst case we call the cops or something.”

It was nice of her to try to reassure him. She might be nearly as callous as Max sometimes, but no matter how hard she tried to hide it, she was a big softie.

“I know, I know,” he leaned back against a wall, “I just… I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You really just contradicted yourself on knowing something I didn’t even ask you about.”

He chuckled, “Sorry. It’s not important. What is important is where we go from here. What do you think we should do?”

“Uh, nothing,” she rolled her eyes, the corner of her lip curling up sardonically, “just let the kid come try to take Max. The kids’ll give him a taste of what happens when you mess with Camp Campbell.”

David hummed in acknowledgement. It was honestly… kind of a valid plan. It was what they did for the rival camp across the lake. The persistent Wood Scouts really never did know when to give up and cut their losses. And, well, could the one time the Wood Scouts won even be considered much of a victory?

This time though… would it work? If it did it’d be really reassuring. They’d have a Percy-repellent on hand 24/7, and the kid would probably find it more of a hassle than it was worth and give up.

But all it would take was one mistake, and they’d lose Max. Losing a camper to the Wood Scouts wasn’t great, but they still saw Jermy more than most of the campers would like. Losing a camper to Percy could mean never seeing them again, and that wasn’t even considering the danger Max could be put in. Who knew what that rascal teenager would do with him? He might… tickle Max to death or something!

Or Max would verbally tear him to shreds first, it was a bit of a toss up.

“Oh fuck.” Gwen’s curse snapped him out of his thoughts.

“What is it?” David asked reflexively.

She grimaced up at him from her seat on the sofa. “Well, I’ve got… news. Bad news, mostly.”

And the spike of worry was back. “And that news is?”

“I found him. Percy, that is. Online. Some articles, some school records and stuff.” The grip she had on her phone visibly tightened, her knuckles white.

“That’s nice?” David tilted his head to one side, and seeing the tight line of Gwen’s lips, sighed, “that’s not the bad news though, is it?”

“Nope.” She popped the P and inhaled through her teeth. She held the phone up for him to read, “See for yourself.”

The image onscreen was a news article from a couple years ago, with an image the St. Louis Arch as the big banner at the top. It was titled “Adolescent Boy Suspected of Multiple Counts of Terrorism Blows Up St. Louis Arch, Full Story [REAL]”.

“Gwen, now I don’t mean to sound rude or at all judgemental about your ability to find valid information, but that looks like a tabloid article.”

She laughed, a bit of hysteria leaking in. “That’s what I thought, too, but check it out.” She swiped, and a video popped up. It was about half a minute long, and the audio was just the loud screeching of whoever was filming, but it depicted a grainy clip of the St. Louis Arch going up in flames, with a figure falling off the side and into the water below.

David frowned. “Well, yes, I heard about that. What does that have to do with anything?” He squinted harder at the small screen of the phone, “I mean, that could be anyone. Who says it’s Percy?”

Gwen kept a blank smile on her face as the video kept playing. Whoever was filming had mad-dashed over to the shore, where the person had fallen. A hand shot out of the water, gripping the mucky, polluted ground a few feet away from the cameraman. And out rose a surprisingly dry figure that looked exactly like Percy, if Percy were a few years younger. Black, wind-blown hair, tanner skin, exact same orange shirt. The kid in the video shook his head like a wet dog, despite seeming to have avoided getting wet like hydrophobic cloth.

The boy looked up towards the camera, the violent sea-green of his eyes glowing, piercing even through the grainy film. The video shorted out and ended abruptly, like it had run out of battery while filming.

David swallowed involuntarily, “Ah, that’s… not good.”

Chapter Text

Gas stations were the exact same no matter where you went in the US. Worn down inside and out, sketchy people either sitting in their cars or smoking right outside the doors, tight aisles filled with brightly colored junk food, sort of uncomfortably warm with the only cold area being near the refrigerators, and a middle-aged cashier propped carelessly in their chair behind the cash register with their head buried in their phone and/or a magazine.

Most importantly, a singular, rather disgusting, vandalized bathroom.

A large wad of toilet paper covered in who-knows-what was tossed against the wall near the toilet. Concerningly, rather than simply falling to the floor, it stuck to that wall. A small, rough heart with the initials S+M was carved into the corner of the mirror, and one of the handles of the faucet was gone.

Well, that shouldn’t stop him. The other handle probably still worked, right? And worst case… Percy eyed the closed lid of the toilet. 

… He’d have to go somewhere else.

He gave the handle a twist. Water came out. Thank the gods. With a little wave of his hand and a bit of a tug, the water fanned out into a fine mist.

Percy flicked a drachma into the little mist-made rainbow in the sink. 

“Oh Iris, goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offering. Show me Nico di Angelo.”

The water quaked in the air, forming a familiar face. Nico had apparently leaned back against one of the chairs in the infirmary at some point, and fallen asleep. 

“Nico. Hey. Hey Nico. Hey.” Percy droned. A blond head poked into the frame, blocking his view of the son of Hades. 

“Oh, hello Percy! Sorry about him. One of the newer campers fell off a ledge earlier and patching him up took longer than I thought.” Will gave a guilty glance behind him, “Nico was waiting for me. And then I felt bad waking him up. So, yeah. I can pass the message on to him when he wakes up, if you want.”

“Can you just tell him to call me ASAP? There’s a bit of a favor I need.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually. If Annabeth’s still there can you tell her I’ll call her later?”

Will nodded, “Can do. Have a great rest of your day, Percy!” He waved a hand through the rainbow, cutting the connection.

Well. Now he’d just have to wait for Nico. Knowing the little insomniac, it wouldn’t take long.

More importantly, he could finally get out of here. He walked out of the bathroom and squeezed past a guy in a trucker hat. Just as he was about the reach the door, he heard a light clearing of the throat.

The cashier, shockingly, had actually looked up from his magazine and was giving Percy a bit of a stink eye.

Percy smiled sheepishly back. The cashier’s eyes narrowed. Oh gods. Quick, what was the cheapest thing—

“Um. Could I. Could I have a…” Percy squinted at the list of prices behind the cashier, “Mega? Ball?”

It was two dollars, whatever, right? Besides, based on the name and price, it was likely one of those little rubber bouncy balls they usually put in gumball machines. Maybe he could give it to Max later. Kids still liked toys like that, right? 

He fumbled a bit before sliding two ones under the glass shield.

One of the cashier’s eyebrows rose. “Numbers?”

“No, the, whatever the MegaBall is.”

The top corner of the cashier’s lip was starting to curl up a bit in obvious disdain. “Random it is.”

The cashier pressed a few buttons behind the counter and the loud, obnoxious sound of a printer started up. A few seconds later the cashier handed him a small slip of paper with the words “Mega Millions” across the top and a line of numbers below.

Oh. That’s what he’d meant by numbers. Oops. That was a little embarrassing. He walked out of the gas station with as much dignity as he could muster. 

The guy from earlier was still smoking right outside the doors. The sharper, distinct smell of cigarette smoke permeated the air, making Percy feel a bit light headed as he walked through the cloud. He coughed once, and the dude gave him a bit of a nasty look.

Rude. Percy wasn’t the one polluting the air where people were walking. 

He turned the corner, walking back towards the back area of the parking lot where he’d left Mrs. O’Leary. 

"Holy Hades!"

Percy sputtered as a hose exploded. No, literally. One of those green snake hoses had been hanging in a neat little coil on the wall of the gas station, and it exploded outwards without warning. If Percy hadn’t had his handy abilities, he would’ve been drenched. Unfortunately, his powers didn't save him from the taste of the unfiltered water that ended up in his mouth, though.

Nico’s face poked out of the water, smirking slightly at Percy's misfortune. “You called?”

“So was that guy like, actually your brother? You two do look pretty similar. Share quite a few gene-specific traits too, I mean like the skin and hair is whatever, plenty of people have that combo, but the eyes–”

Max snapped his head to the side, glaring at him. “Neil. Shut the fuck up.”

The science kid went silent behind him with affronted look.

Max was awkwardly angled under the window of the counselor’s cabin, trying his best to hear what Gwen and David were talking about inside. Neil was just off to the side, completely out of view of anyone in the building, as, well, he wasn't very concerned about listening in. 

“Goddamn it, why is their nonexistent soundproofing choosing now to start working?!” Max hissed and straightened up, grabbing Neil by the wrist and tugging away from the cabin. 

Neil rolled his eyes, “Wood’s not good at soundproofing, it’s actually pretty bad, the density’s too low and it’s too light of a material.”

“Yeah, no shit Neil. Except it is working. Right now. When I really don't want it to.” Max felt like throwing something. Ideally through the window. Bonus points if it hit David. 

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t eavesdrop. He’d just weasel it out of the counselors later. They were both shit at keeping secrets anyway. He trudged back over to their tent, Neil following closely behind. 

The dirty wooden floors and hard, lumpy cot had never looked so inviting. Max threw off his hoodie, flinging it onto the little rack near his pillows, and flopped headfirst onto the bed.  Neil sat a little more delicately on his, brushing a few gutsy insects off the sheets.

“Seriously, Max. Who was that?” That almost sounded like… concern. But that was impossible. Neil never cared about what Max did or what happened to anyone in general, as long as it didn’t interfere with the science kid’s strictly-scientific view on the world around them. The only person in this camp that gave a shit about anyone else was David, and very occasionally Gwen. Maybe Nikki, to an extent, but that was due to naivete. 

“Just some creep I ran into in New York. Not actually my brother. Drop it.” Max turned over, fully intent on passing the fuck out and forgetting about all this.

He was so out of it he didn’t see Neil’s eyes narrow at him, or the other boy sliding a box from under his cot. Or even the dim light of the screen reflecting off the tan of the tent.

Chapter Text

Dinner was suspiciously quiet. The campers were discussing amongst themselves, so the general volume was lower than usual. Gwen and David had been standing at the front of the room for just about the entire time, whispering to each other and intermittently glancing at Max. When he’d gone up to confront them, they’d brushed him off with the typical “don’t worry, it’s just some adult business” bullshit excuse that everyone over the age of twenty seemed to enjoy using. 

In other words, they were totally talking about him behind his back. Even worse, they weren’t even bothering to actually do it behind his back. They were right in front of him. 

And Max fucking hated it.

He hated when adults did this. The idiotic idea that just because he wasn’t over eighteen he wouldn’t understand the situation. That he would break down in tears when someone challenged his ideals. That he would throw a tantrum over something that didn’t go his way. That he wouldn’t be able to handle it. 

Fuck them. If there was anything they should’ve learned, it was that Max could do it. He could take whatever this shit excuse for existence called life threw at him, chew it up, and spit it out like a high-speed ball of nails at whatever had chucked it at him first.

“Max! Max check it out!” Nikki thrust a hand in face, holding something long and black in his face.

He swatted her hand back, scowling, “Nikki, keep your grubby paws out of my personal space!”

She giggled, and held up what Max could now identify as a snake. “I forgot, sorry! And look! This is the snake from earlier! He came back to find me, we’re friends now.”

Neil, who’d just walked up to their table, gave her a concerned look, “Nikki, isn’t that a cottonmouth? They’re not even native to the area! Plus, they’re super venomous.”

“Cool!” She held the snake worryingly close to her eyes, a smile stretched wide across her face, “You and I are gonna have quite a bit of fun scaring people later, aren’t we?”

Neil and Max both grimaced. “As long as you keep it away from me,” Neil sighed, “Also, Max, I needed to talk to you real quick. In private.”

“Ooooh~” Nikki taunted, “You gonna confess your undying love~?”

“Shut up, Nikki!” Neil hissed, much like the snake she was holding, “And no, of course not. It’s about… well… it’s about something private. That pertains to Max. Coincidentally. Well, not coincidentally… but you get the point!”

“Just spit it out Neil. There’s nothing you could say to me that’s private enough to pull me away from the bench.” Max poked at the lackluster potatoes on his plate. They almost looked like they were squirming, moving to some internal heartbeat Max would rather not think about. He hated to say it, but he kind of missed the Camp Half-Blood food, and he’d only had it once.

Neil grit his teeth, “It’s about your ‘visitor’.”

Oh. Well then.

“Why didn’t you just fucking say so?” Max stood up abruptly, swinging his legs over the bench. He grabbed Neil’s sleeve and pulled him out the front doors of the hall, Nikki’s loud laughter fading behind the closed doors, “What about him? And if you’re about to ask about my relation to him, don’t. There is none. Absolutely no relation. Not my brother, or my cousin, or whatever else.”

“He’s a war criminal.”

…

“What?”

“You heard me right.” Max had never seen so grim a face on his tent-mate, “Your fake brother or whatever? He’s bad news. And I don’t mean the usual bad news. Like, he’s like, worse than Daniel level bad news. This guy blew up the St. Louis Arch, derailed a train, got into a very public gunfight, fled the police, and has been suspected of murdering his step-father. Among other things! This is serious, Max!”

Shit. That did sound bad. But if time had taught him anything, showing weakness would just make problems worse.

“I dunno Neil,” Max forced his voice into a lower, nonchalant tone, “Sounds like the kinda shit we get into regularly.”

Neil gave him a bit of a side-eye, which, rude. It was kind of true, they weren’t exactly great at avoiding trouble. For fuck’s sake, they’d burned that entire goddamn haunted island in the middle of the lake! 

Or, wait, Neil hadn’t been there for that, had he? It was the other camp people. Snake-eyes from the Wood Scouts and the diva from the Flower Scouts. 

“Look, Neil. I appreciate the concern, really. But I’m fine. The fucker’s gone anyways, so don’t worry about it.” The look on Neil’s face didn’t change, and this was getting a little too gross-feely emotional– nobody at this camp was supposed to care. “We’ll figure something out if it comes down to it, alright? We can even start making a plan after lunch if you’re really so worried.”

Neil gnawed on his lip, “Max… I don’t know if–” 

The door to the hall banged open, and a slightly wild-looking David peeked his head through. His eyes landed on Max and he visibly relaxed, “Hey there you two! You aren’t supposed to be out here! Let’s get you back to where either Gwen or I can see you, yeah? Yeah!” He ushered them back into the hall, where the other camper were still whispering, watching them enter with unveiled curiosity. 

Max dug his shoes into the floor, preventing David from dragging him any further in, “I’ve gotta take a shit, so I’m gonna go.”

David looked a little panicked, “Take a buddy! Neil, go with him.”

What. The fuck. Why was David doing this. He’d had no issue in the past? Was he concerned about Percy too, or something? 

Max just scoffed and spun on his heel, marching out towards their tent.

“Max? This isn’t the way to the bathroom.”

“Yeah, Neil. I know. We’re not going to the bathroom. I’m gonna sit in the tent for awhile. Maybe take a nap or something, I don’t know.”

“But David–”

“Will think I’m taking a shit. And you’re gonna back me up.”

“Max—”

“Chill the hell out, we’re just going to our tent. The same one we’ll be going to later anyways.” He waved a hand carelessly in the direction of said tent. 

“I mean,” Neil’s face was still stuck in a bit of a grimace. “I guess… yeah. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Holy fucking shit Neil. You know better than to say that.”

“Oh please, jinxing things is scientifically impossible, a complete superstition. You can’t just change the probability of something occurring by talking about—”

“STOP TALKING.”

Chapter Text

Nico DiAngelo was a lot of things. Young enough to be coo-ed over and doted on by old ladies at the mall, but old enough to qualify for the senior discount at every restaurant that offered one. Lived only enough years to have gone through less than a fourth of his life, but been alive for multiple lives’ worth of struggle. The son of Hades, undeniably Greek. But also Hazel’s brother, undeniably Roman. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of what he was and what he wasn’t. 

He was pretty sure though that he was not, in fact, a kidnapper. He was, however, friends with Perseus Achilles Jackson, who had the unfortunate tendency to get himself and everyone around him into situations that could be framed as nothing else other than kidnapping. 

Like now. The situation he was stuck in. Stalking a random group of children a decent bit younger than him through the forest. Not suspicious and/or reportable to the police behavior at all.

He was officially supposed to be looking for a “Max”, but Percy had clarified that chances were he’d instead be searching for a kid around seven with sea-green eyes. Something about “those lying little jerks are probably forcing him to go by something else to throw us off his trail” which, really, Percy. By the gods. He always managed to make himself sound so guilty. No wonder people always blamed him for things.

So here he was. Looking for this random kid. Who had yet to reveal himself. I mean really there’s only what? Four people in the camp? A lanky redhead, who Nico assumed was the “David” character that Percy had ranted about for a solid couple minutes, a sort of tall buff kid(?) that Nico couldn’t pinpoint an age on, a little stout one that dressed like he was ready to sail the seven seas and challenge Scylla to hand-to-hand combat, and a kid who was somewhere in between but was just-

Said kid passed gas. Very loudly, he might add. And it dragged on for over fifteen seconds. Which was, admittedly, kind of impressive. But it was also incredibly gross. 

None of them had sea green eyes. The short one’s were blue, but it was just that. Blue. They did go by code names, which lined up with the fake name thing. Snake was definitely not a normal name. Petrol was kind of plausible, but it was also a type of gas, so not exactly a normal name either. Pikeman… well it could’ve been a normal last name, he guessed. And Germy Farts was just a flat out insult. Kids are cruel. Nico would have wondered what the kid had done to deserve it, but he supposed  the uh... tendency displayed earlier... kind of explained itself. 

“Um, I don’t mean to be a bother,” ‘Germy Farts’ drawled, “But, uh, my IBS is—”

“Ok, ok! Yeah. We got it.” Pikeman scowled and spun on his heel, doubling back on the path they’d been walking for the last forty minutes.

“Are you sure there isn’t a bathroom up here? It’s kind of urgent…”

Pikeman’s eye visibly twitched, which Nico could understand. He’d be pretty frustrated too. It was part of the reason he hardly ever volunteered to help out with new campers. He already wasn’t that social by nature, and combined with children that were mostly eleven or younger, asking questions about how their lives were changing and having to explain that their lives were harder than the average kid and that they might die young because the gods they'd thought were fictional were in fact real and were jerks? 

No thanks.

“Yes. I’m very sure.”

“Are you absolutely—"

“Yes.” The word was hissed out through the red head’s teeth, “There is not. A bathroom. Up here. On a mountain. In the middle of. The god damn. Woods.”

“But—”

“YES. Yes. I am ABSOLUTELY SURE. If it is such an emergency, you can go in a bush!”

“But Snake used the bathroom like, five minutes ago?”

“Snake went in a bush! And he had no problem with it!”

Snake held a hand up to his head in a typical salute. “Yes sir. Of course I had no problem.”

“See that, Jermy? If he can do it, so can you.”

“I really don’t think that'd be a good idea...”

Pikeman inhaled audibly through his nose. “Then you’ll have to hold it. There’s a bathroom at the base of the trail. I know a few shortcuts, so it'll take roughly fifteen minutes.”

Germy looked off to the side. “I suppose…”

“Great. Now that that’s settled—”

As entertaining as watching these idiots was, Nico really wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do here. Should he just grab Snake? The kid was the closest to the given description… though Nico was pretty sure the kid was around twelve or thirteen. Plausibly even fourteen, given the slightly sharper edges of his face. Maybe Percy was just worse than he thought at guessing ages?

Yeah. It was probably fine. If it was the wrong kid, Percy would just have to deal. Send Nico back with better information or something. 

The campers were starting to make their way down the hill, now. With Pikeman and Germy in the lead and Snake and Petrol lagging behind. Perfect. Now to wait until Petrol and Snake separated enough and snatch him up like the grim reaper. Thanatos. Whatever.

Petrol stopped dead in his tracks and whipped his head nearly a full 180 degrees, glaring directly into the shrubbery Nico was tucked into.

… What. He was. He was fully hidden. Blended into the darkness.

How—?!

Petrol leapt forward, and Nico found himself with a stomach full of metaphorical claws. If he were fully solid, at the moment, and not tucked into shadow.

Petrol blinked, and narrowed his eyes before hesitantly backing up. He kept his gaze directly on Nico, and backed up. He grabbed Snake by the shoulders and picked up the shorter boy like a sack of potatoes before following quickly after Pikeman and Germy, who’d long since disappeared.

What. In the name. Of Hades.