Chapter Text
It starts with a scream and a clash of thunder.
Sally startles awake at the sound, checking next to her to see Gabriel still fast asleep, ‘typical.’ She carefully rolls out of bed and into Percy’s room. She opens the door and finds her seven-year-old thrashing and whimpering—“Percy, Percy baby,” Sally calls out, going to the bed to shake him out of his nightmare, but he keeps screaming .
This isn’t the first time, and Sally doubts it will be the last.
“Percy, come on, Percy, wake up, baby,” Sally says, really starting to get worried. It doesn’t usually take this long. Percy’s always been a light sleeper, waking as soon as he’s touched. This isn’t normal. She can feel it in her gut.
All of a sudden, Percy springs up, his screaming turns to sobs, vomit escaping and collecting onto his shirt, “Mama! Mama!” Percy retches again.
“Get it out, baby. It’s okay. I’m here,” Sally tries to comfort. You have to calm down. It’s okay. It was only a dream, baby.”
“It’s not,” Percy sobs. The puking has stopped. “They got her. They got her.”
“Percy, got who? Hun–”
“The bigger girl, they got her,” Percy says, clutching her shirt. “They got Thalia. She’s dead! Mama, she’s dead!” The past few months, that’s all he’s dreamed about—a group of children backpacking across the US. At first, it was just a dark-haired girl, Thalia, then an older boy, Luke, a goat person called Grover, and lastly a girl about his age.
“Percy, what have I told you about watching Scooby-Doo before bed?” Sally sighs, standing up. She’s gonna have to strip the sheets again. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I didn’t watch Scooby,” Percy snubs. “Mama, I’m telling you it was real . They got her– and- and she became a tree.”
“A tree?”
“She was just lying there– there was blood, so much– they were gonna eat her, and then lightning came down. She became a Christmas tree,” Percy insists with a ferocity she’s never seen before.
“Who was going to eat her?” Sally asks, a pit dropping in her stomach.
“One-eyed people. The bat ladies were gonna let them,” Percy says, wiping tears off his face.
Sally was told what to expect with Percy, but it was nothing like this. “Let’s get you showered, okay? We can talk about it in the morning.”
Percy looks out his window, “But it’s storming. You never let me–”
“You’ll just have to be quick, go on, Percy,” Sally insists. She waits until Percy leaves the room and prays, ‘Poseidon, you better explain why our son dreams of monsters. You never said anything like this– you said dreams, Po, but he’s claiming he just saw a girl, Thalia, die and become a Christmas tree. I–I don’t know what to do. I can’t save him from his dreams, Po. Send something– anything, this can’t keep happening. You didn’t see him. Help me help our kid.’
✴❀✿❅✿❀✴
Percy got to stay home the next day, not that he’s complaining. He doesn’t get a lot of time with his Mama these days, especially without Gabe. His dirty, rotten stepfather that smells like moldy pizza wrapped in used underwear. He’s not sure why his Mama decided she liked him; he wishes she didn’t.
He can’t get that dream out of his head. It’s on repeat, a constant rerun, ‘Why? Just why won’t it stop?’ Percy can’t help but wonder. He’s tried all his usual methods, music, TV, reading– but nothing.
Percy’s just happy he gets to spend the day with his Mama. They’re waiting on a batch of cookies to be done when someone knocks on the front door. “Huh,” he looks at the time. It’s too early for it to be Gabe– he misplaces his key a lot– and they’re not expecting anyone. He answers the door to find two women. Tall, slim, tanned, with matching green eyes. “Uh.. One second,” he closes the door. “Mama! The twins from the shining are here.” Percy can hear laughing coming from the other side.
“What?” Sally asks, amused, “Thanks, baby.” She reopens the door and feels herself go cold. Those eyes. Only his family has those eyes. “Baby, go to your room, we’ve got grown-up things to talk about.”
Percy looks between them, the tension tangible, “O-okay, Mama.”
“I’ll come get you in a bit, okay,” Sally says, watching the goddesses. Once she hears Percy’s door close, she asks,” My ladies, how may I help you?”
“Dad sent us,” says one of them, “said there’s something wrong with our youngest, not that we knew we have a new youngest till he called for us this morning. May we come in?”
Sally’s eyes widen, “Oh– of course– sorry, my ladies,” stepping aside. “Could I offer any refreshments– all I have right now is water– we have some cookies–”
“We’re fine,” the other one says. “Where are our manners? I’m Herophile.”
“Benthesikyme– you can call me Benny,” she smiles, “and you’re Sally, correct?”
“Yes, I’m Percy’s– Perseus’s– mother.”
“Dad spoke highly of you,” Benthesikyme says, “he was surprised when you prayed to him. Said you don’t do it often.” They go to sit in the kitchen, which is the cleanest area.
Sally takes the cookies out of the oven. “Yes, I’m aware of the… laws? I believe that’s what he called them? That he’d be unable to be a stable presence. I give offerings and updates when I can. Nothing more. But last night, it was too much.”
Herophile nods, “Dad said he– seven words, past tense, happens when asleep?”
“Dreamed,” Benthesikyme answers, this being a common occurrence.
“Yes, dreamed,” Herophile nods. “Said Percy dreamed things he shouldn’t. Things beyond the occasional demigod dream.”
Sally rubs her eyes, “The past couple of months, he’s been dreaming of a group of kids. At first, I thought it was just his imagination, but he started to give me details of places he’s never been. So I thought it was the demigod dreams, but last night, I couldn’t wake him. He got so worked up, he puked. He said he saw a girl die . Turned into a tree.” Herophile and Benthesikyme exchange glances.
Herophile sighs, “he saw the hill.”
Sally looks at them and asks quietly, “What?”
“Last night, Thalia, daughter of Uncle Z,” Benthesikyme says wearily, “died protecting–”
“Luke, Grover, and Annabeth,” Sally finishes softly.
“... He shouldn’t have seen something like that, we’re sorry,” Benthesikyme says.
“Following the same group for months, that goes beyond normal dreams,” Herophile confirms. She looks at her sister, “he could be…”
“Could we speak with Perseus?” Benthesikyme asks, “We need to know what exactly he’s seen.”
Sally refuses, “he doesn’t know about any of this. I want him safe. He doesn’t need to know, not yet.”
“He’s already seen things, he needs to know–not everything. Ignorance is its own type of protection,” Benthesikyme says. “Not knowing at least the bare minimum? It’s going to hurt him.”
“What do you propose?” Sally asks.
“What we are, but not who we are,” Herophile says.
“The monsters will know regardless. Sally, gaining context won’t change much. We know you want to protect him, and so do we. You wanted Dad to send help– we’re the help,” Benthesikyme says, reaching out for Sally, putting a hand on her arm.
Sally’s breath shudders, and she hollers, “Percy! Honey, can you come here, please?”
“Mama? Are they gone?” Percy asks, peering out his door– but then he spots them. “Oh,” his cheeks redden. He joins them at the table, sitting next to Sally. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You as well,” Herophile says with a smile.
“Not to be rude, but did you need me for something?” Percy asks.
“Percy, baby, this is going to be hard for you to believe– but I need you to keep an open mind,” Sally says seriously.
Percy glances at the women across from him, “... does this have anything to do with our eyes?”
Benthesikyme sits up, “Our eyes?”
“They’re the same,” Percy says, looking back and forth between her and Herophile. “... swirling– mixing, never settling, like a whirlpool. Are we... Are you from my dad’s side?”
The room goes quiet until all of a sudden laughter bubbles out of Herophile, “Oh yes, he’s got the– the.. five letters–”
“Sight,” Benthesikyme finishes. Giving Percy a good look over. “We are related, yes, how, however, we cannot tell you. At least, not now, not for a while. Sally, your mother, reached out to us about your dreams.”
Percy’s face goes a bit pink, eyes wide, “mama–”
“It runs in the family,” Herophile says, smiling. “It’s extremely rare, but not unheard of.”
“Your grandmother has a version of it, along with a few more,” Benthesikyme says, fighting the urge to look at Herophile.
“We need to know what you saw,” Herophile says. “This is important.”
“Sometimes, I’ll see people–things I shouldn’t have,” Percy admits, nodding slowly. “I…” he bites his lip. “There are things– people, that don’t look like people. Scales, feathers, fangs. Some of ’em are nice, some aren’t. I’ve been dreaming of kids, groups of kids.. silver jackets, some in purple, others in orange, but for a while I was only following four of them.”
The women exchange glances, frowning slightly. “What happened?” Benthesikyme asks.
Percy’s gaze doesn’t leave the table, “two girls, Thalia, Annabeth, a boy, Luke, and... a goat boy, person? They called him Grover. I don’t know where they started from, but they were headed here, to New York. I saw them make forts. They ran into a lot of One-Eyed people. They called them... Cyclops? There were other things too. Last night they caught up– t here were so many . They got her,” his breath hitches, tears fill his eyes. “They got Thalia. Blood. There was so much blood . There were these demon Grandma ladies– they had bat wings– they did it. The others wanted to eat her, but before they could, there was lightning. It hit her. The blood turned to roots, and her body turned into a tree. A tree .”
“So we’ve heard,” Benthesikyme says. “Last night, Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus, was killed.”
Sally glares at her, “Percy–”
“A kid of a god– a demigod. That’s what those things called her,” Percy cuts her off, “Mama… is, is my dad, really lost at sea. I…”
“He walked out of the surf, completely dry,” Sally says softly. “He was kind, but couldn’t stay for long. When he left, he gave me the greatest gift. You.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Does Gabe know?”
“No,” Sally says vehemently. “And he never will. Percy, baby, knowing is dangerous–”
“But so is seeing,” Herophile says.
“I didn’t know you dreamed so much,” Sally says, continuing, feeling hollow. “How long…”
“The dreams? Always, not all the time, but..” Percy trails off, and clears his throat, “so, what now?”
“You’re taking this a lot easier than I thought you would,” Sally says.
Percy shrugs, “I’m just happy I’m not coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs– but, come on. There’s gotta be more. You never said who my dad is,” he turns to the women, “and you never said your names.”
“Little Pearl, one thing to remember is that a name holds power. You know more than enough for now,” Benthesikyme admonishes. “You will know more when the time is right, not before. Knowing you’re a demigod is one thing, knowing your parent is another.”
“It’s not that he doesn’t care,” Herophile says gently, “he just wants you safe. It’s too.. time of day that coincides with morning, five letters.”
“Uh, early?” Percy throws out, not sure why she’s done that, but he can read a room. It’s not time to ask.
Herophile continues, “It’s too early for you to interact. He– your family cares for you, know that, if anything, know that.” She pulls two items out of nowhere. An ornate dagger and a braided necklace. A shell in the middle with a pearl on each side. “For your protection. The blade is for those who dare come before you, and the necklace is a talisman for the mind. To lessen the effects of prophecy, to help you go unnoticed. It’s not much, but the best we can do for now.”
“Thank you,” Percy says, reaching for them. “But should I really have a knife? Mama doesn’t like me using the big ones.”
“It will only affect the mythological– yourself included,” Benthesikyme says, “so do be careful. Mortals, at least those who don’t know, won’t see anything. You don’t need to worry about it being seen.” She looks out the window at the ever-darkening sky. “I believe our time is up. It was wonderful to meet you, Sally, Percy.”
“If you ever need anything, a chat, or the dreams get too much, pray to me, I’ll do what I can,” Herophile says, as the sisters fade to ocean spray.
Neither giving Percy their names.
✴❀✿❅✿❀✴
“Calm down, brother,” Benthesikyme says for the umpteenth time. Tired of watching him swim in circles. When she and Herophile returned, Poseidon called for a family meeting. Triton’s not taking the news well.
“A new bastard! And we’re just finding out now. You and Herophile found out about this before me, his heir,” Triton says, throwing his hands up.
“Yeah, cause you should have known first,” Kymopoleia says, rolling her eyes, lounging on the couch. “He could have had dozens since that stupid oath.”
“I did not,” Poseidon pouts, “and son, sit down. Swimming in circles helps nothing.”
“Again! Father, again. I thought we were done with more upstarts–”
“Triton,” Amphitrite’s voice cuts through, soft but firm, “listen to your father.”
“Mother–”
“I knew,” Amphitrite says, “I always know, as of our agreement,” she looks towards Poseidon, grabs his hand. “He’s done well, decades have passed. Sally Jackson… she was captivating in a way neither of us has seen in millennia.” Their kids sit up straight at that.
“Mom, what are you implying?” Kymopoleia asks softly.
“Simply, I gave them my blessing,” Amphitrite says. “Perseus is ours, just as he is Sally’s.”
“Mother–” Triton pales, “you can’t possibly mean– how will that work with the prophecy–”
“It won’t remove him from the running,” Amphitrite says, “but hopefully, it will help. I’d prefer our child not die a horrible death.”
“But he’s a godling– more than half,” Triton frowns, “why wouldn’t he count?”
“A blessing, claiming Perseus doesn’t make him a third of Mom,” Benthesikyme’s eyes roll. “Mom’s just got a bit of a claim. 50% of Dad, maybe 10 to 15% of Mom, and the rest is his moral parent, Sally. It’s like a legacy situation. I always forget you don’t know stuff like that.”
“Excuse me for not adding to the population,” Triton says, finally sitting.
Herophile adds quietly, “There’s more than that. That ichor… It’s older. He’s prophetic, Dad– Father, is he yours?”
Poseidon flickers, teeth sharpening, eyes slitting– distorting. Posedawone. Poseidon quickly gains control and clears his voice, embarrassed. “I may not have been in control that evening….”
“Oh my Gods,” Kym opoleia says, a grin splitting her face.
“Uncle is not going to be happy about that,” Bentheskyme murmurs.
“Supersedes his rule,” Triton nods, “his reign– a child of old alive today– for grandmother’s sake, he has prophecy. You haven’t held that domain for a long time,” Triton says, browning, not seeing any way this Perseus will be anything but trouble.
“He will have to put up with it,” Poseidon says, a glimpse of Posedawone remaining. “Regardless of the version– Poseidon, Posedawone, or Neptune. Perseus, Percy Jackson, is mine. He is ours.”
“Only time can tell how much he’ll inherit of that aspect,” Amphitrite says, “only time can tell.”