Chapter Text
“Was that better?” The child of Aphrodite asked as he finished the sword trick Percy had been teaching him; the exact one Percy had first tried with Luke when he got to camp.
“It wasn’t not better? But it wasn’t exactly what I was aiming for,” Percy drummed his finger against the hilt of his sword. “Try it one more time?”
The beginner’s swords class was one of Percy’s favorite to teach. All the kids were excited and eager to learn, and they all listened to him. He had accidentally got cut open by flying swords a couple of times, though.
“Okay, I think I figured out what’s happening,” Percy said as he walked over to the kid and gently directed his arm through the movement.
Once he was done helping, his stomach suddenly felt like it had become a bottomless pit, empty and dull. Percy looked around before he brushed the feeling of impending doom off, assuming it was just paranoia.
As he wrapped up the lesson and started cleaning up after the kids, footsteps were behind him. A hand touched his shoulder and Percy whirled around, forced the person to their knees, and had Riptide at their throat in less than 2 seconds. He had extremely fast reflexes (some may call it trauma but, oh well.)
Hermes cleared his throat and leaned away from the blade. “Hello.”
“Oh! Hermes! Hi! Sorry, you startled me,” Percy said awkwardly, putting Riptide away as he took a few steps backward from the god.
“That’s my bad,” Hermes stood up and brushed his shorts off, looking grim and slightly nervous, which was a weird expression for a god.
As Percy took in Hermes’s demeanor, he immediately tensed and matched the god’s expression. “What happened?”
“It’s about your mother. I figured you should hear it firsthand.”
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Percy was reminded of Silena’s helmet as he struggled with the door, the material having been melted together. Whether by lightning, the heat, or divine intervention, Percy didn’t care. When he first stepped over the threshold into his mother’s apartment, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. The inside of the home was black and ashy. The bodies and faces of his family were charred beyond recognition.
A weird feeling filled Percy. A mix of rage, bitterness, and indescribable grief flooded through him, eventually giving way to a dull, numb pain. He was vaguely aware of Hermes flashing away before his head started pounding.
His stomach twisted and turned, before developing a sharp pain like he was being stabbed in the abdomen. The pipes exploded, and his headache got worse and worse until he finally blacked out.
It wasn’t until he was back at camp, washing soot from his hands and hair, that he even knew the apartment had been destroyed; destroyed by an earthquake he created.
He hated his life. He didn’t even know why he was still trying. Nothing was ever going to change.
He was a mistake, and the gods were going to constantly punish him for his father’s wrongdoing. After all, that’s all he was.
He ended up falling asleep, his subconscious being tortured with dreams of past friends and family, and how much he failed everyone who was ever important.
Screaming acted as an alarm and woke Percy up. He shot straight up and hit his head on the bunk above him. He hissed in pain and attempted to stand up. Keyword being attempted. He stood up way too quickly and ended up almost fainting from a lack of food and a rush of blood.
Eventually, Percy got halfway outside when he was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of nausea and lightheadedness. Rain was coming down in sheets, making it hard to see anything 3 feet forward.
Lightning flashed in multiple different places simultaneously, charging the air with electricity.
“Annabeth!” Percy yelled but his voice was lost to the rain.
The feeling got worse. Percy tried to step forward and slipped. His head hit something hard, and he passed out.
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He came to in the infirmary, where it was surprisingly dark. The usual warm light that flooded the room was missing, and the smell of almonds and vanilla that usually filled the air was lacking as well.
Percy sat up slowly and looked around. Kayla, Austin, and one of the younger campers were rushing about lighting candles, picking up bottles, and trying to deal with a multitude of injuries.
He had no clue where Will was, or why it was so dark. His head was pounding and his vision kept fading in and out.
The door opened and Apollo walked in, which caused Percy’s head to start spinning even more than it was.
“How is he?” Kayla rushed over and crowded around her dad, immediately followed by Austin.
“Not good,” Apollo said and sat down in a chair before looking around. His eyes landed on Percy, and his expression of grief got 10 times worse. “Hey, Percy.”
“What happened?” Percy swung his legs over and stood up, only to fall into the wall next to him.
Apollo stood up and steadied Percy with his arm, “Sit down. It will help your headache. I can get you some food in a second. You’re probably starved.”
Percy brushed him off and continued standing. “ What happened? ”
Kayla and Austin shared a look. They looked scared, and a little nervous. Percy wondered what they were scared of.
“There was an accident,” Kayla said, uncharacteristically quiet. She was furiously braiding and unbraiding her hair.
Percy looked around again. Everyone was quiet now, all of them looking at him cautiously and slightly afraid. It dawned on him who they were afraid of. Him.
The look in their eyes reminded him of Annabeth in Tartarus. His head started pounding even more, forcing him to close his eyes for a second.
“Where’s Annabeth? Where’s Will? He’s always in the infirmary.” Percy put a hand to his head and rubbed his mouth. His fingers came away with dried blood on them. “What. The. Fuck ?”
“Will is in our cabin. He’s…tired,” Austin was also nervously glancing between him and Apollo, fiddling with a harmonica in his hands.
“Annabeth.”
Apollo sighed. “You need to sit down.”
“No,” Percy said stubbornly and continued rubbing at his face, trying to get the dried blood off. He assumed it was his, but based on the lack of any of his friends, he was second-guessing that assumption. Wait.
Percy looked around once again, more frantically this time. Checking every single face and every bed. “No. No. ”
“Percy. Sit down,” Apollo pleaded.
Percy turned on his heel and walked out the door. It was still raining. How long had it been? Why wouldn’t anyone tell him what the fuck happened?!
He remembered teaching his beginner’s swords fighting lesson. And Hermes appeared with news about…his mom. Their apartment. Singed to pieces. An earthquake. Rain. Lightning.
Singed. Lightning.
Lightning.
Zeus.
Percy took a shaky breath.
Someone grabbed his arm as Percy reached the middle of camp. He whirled around, ready to tell them off. Dionysus stood directly behind him, letting go of his arm almost immediately.
“You need to calm down.”
“Go away.” Percy struggled to keep his voice even, he felt a combining mix of emotions. Mainly anger.
“I know you’re struggling, and I know you’re angry, but you need to clear your mind or else you are going to destroy a lot more than you mean to.”
His words only made Percy angrier. What did he know? He was just like the rest of them. It was supposed to be different. They were supposed to change. He said he would change things. What did all of those children die for?
He felt naive. He felt tired. Worst of all, he didn’t even feel surprised. Of course, they didn’t change. They were incapable of real change. Sure, they’ll understand for a little bit. They’ll become more attentive and act like they care. Then, they’ll turn around and go back to their old ways the second they lose someone, or they see a face just too pretty to pass up.
He couldn’t even blame them. Humans created the idea of gods being perfect, but that perfection lacked anything real. They weren’t substantial, they didn’t have normal feelings; they weren’t anything but selfish, and cruel, and proud. They were used to taking what they wanted when they wanted it, with no consequences.
Well, it was about time they faced some consequences.
The rain came pouring down harder and harder with each thought racing through Percy’s head.
“Look, I don’t care what you say, you’re not going to change my mind. You’re all the same. I see him in every single one of you. Zeus knew what would happen, and apparently, he didn’t care. I'm fulfilling the prophecy, and none of you will stop me.” Percy walked away building up more and more water between him and Dionysus, barely turning back over his shoulder to say, “Tell Zeus that he brought this on himself. You made me this way, so don’t even think about complaining.”
He had practice with compartmentalizing. Lots of practice. Some might call it ‘avoiding’ at this point, but he preferred to call it ‘dealing with one thing at a time.’
He pushed his thoughts away and focused on not making the island capsize. Somehow (probably divine intervention), he found himself in Central Park.
The underworld. He could go to Hades and negotiate. Bargain. Force. He would do anything.
The journey to the palace was eerily quiet and undisturbed. He walked straight through the gates, under Cerberus, and past Asphodel and Punishment. No one even looked at him funny.
The doors opened immediately as he reached the palace. He was too preoccupied to notice the lack of guards.
“If you are here about your friends, there is nothing I can do about it.”
“That’s bullshit. You have her soul and I want it back. I want her back.” Percy looked up defiantly at where Hades was sitting on his throne. If Percy wasn’t as observant as he was, he might have missed the stiffness in Hades’s shoulders and the way his eyes wouldn’t quite focus on Percy.
“Their souls are in the Fates’ hands. I have no jurisdiction over them. If I could help you, Perseus, I would. I’ve told you before that I do not enjoy war. And the only thing that will come from this is that very thing.”
Percy was caught at the beginning of his statement. ‘ Their. ’ He had forgotten about his mother. How could he? What kind of terrible son was he to just forget about his mother’s gruesome death?
“What do the Fates want with my mother?” Percy asked. What did the Fates want with any of them?
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about your mother. I was talking about your friends.”
Friends. Plural. There were multiple flashes of lightning, Percy remembered suddenly. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair.
How much had he sacrificed for the gods already? How much more could they take from him?
Not for the first time, he thought about how much Luke understood how the gods acted. They would never be satisfied. He could give everything—his body, his mind, his bones, his soul, his whole life—and he would still be begged and forced to give more. Luke was right. They needed to be stopped. Not just for Percy, but for all the demigods. His friends.
The feeling he felt earlier? Most likely the empathy link. Grover. His first friend. Grover worked so hard to become Lord of the Wild and he barely had any time to enjoy it. Time that was ripped away by Zeus.
Wait, did his friends include…Nico? Will wasn’t in the infirmary, but Apollo would have been raging if Will had died. Will lost someone, he was grieving. He lost Nico .
But Nico was barely that close with Percy? What was the point? What did he ever do to Zeus? He wasn’t that disrespectful. Why didn’t Hades care more? Why didn’t any of the gods care?!
“Look, you seem to be having some inner turmoil. Maybe you should leave. Go relax by a riverbed and rest with your thoughts. Come to terms with your life. And we can have this conversation years later after you have processed everything.” Hades shrunk down to human size and turned Percy around by his shoulders, eager to get the demigod to leave. Percy was so caught up in his thoughts, and his bitterness, that he didn’t even realize he was walking back until he was near the Styx.
He wanted to destroy the gods. He wanted to make them realize their mistake. They needed to realize that demigods were powerful, and they would only take so much. They deserved better. They deserved life. They deserved justice.
In a split-second decision, he closed the short gap between him and the river. He didn’t even give time for Achilles to appear and warn him.
He remembered the pain being…worse. It felt dull this time. More like a persistent nagging and a bunch of dull knives poking and destroying his skin instead of a thousand hot needles destroying his skin. He didn’t see his family waving from the shore this time. He seemed to just have turned numb.
About time , he thought bitterly. He’d rather be numb than have to feel everything, all the time.
The river popped him out, leaving him feeling like little insects were crawling all over his body. Did it work? Was it defective? Was he defective? Probably.
Whispering and chattering sounded around him. It was like the Fields of Asphodel were growing around him, enclosing him in an environment of ghosts.
Percy decided he should leave.
He got 5 steps into Central Park. A ghostly hand reached out and tapped his shoulder.
“Percy,” a voice said.
Everything about the ghost was familiar. His voice, his calloused hands, his blonde hair, his blue eyes. The scar that ran down the side of his face.
“Luke?”