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Percy was different after Tartarus. He tried to hide it, and he did pretty well all things considered. They beat Gaea, they made peace with the Roman camp. Things were back to normal.
Or they should have been. But Percy couldn’t ignore the feeling, the sense, the power that had manifested deep in the depths of Tartarus. Water was liquid and so was poison, and so were so many other things. So many things to sense, it was almost debilitating if he let himself reach out with his senses.
And it was getting worse.
Or maybe not worse, but stronger.
He couldn’t tell anyone though. Not after how Annabeth had reacted in the Pit.
He tried ignoring his new abilities at first, but suppressing led to nearly being discovered when during a fight with some monsters at the border of camp he was able to deflect a dagger thrust at him by an empousa that was coated in poison. Annabeth had looked at him strangely afterward and Percy had made a comment about how he was able to manipulate the water in the air to avoid the dagger. (that hadn’t made her any happier)
So now he went into the woods to fight monsters using poison he carried with him or using their blood against them.
He’d through the ocean sometimes to Alaska, despite the memories, because it was the only place he could really be alone. He tried to ignore how quickly he could travel through the ocean now. He’d make it rain, or storm, or make the ground shake and lava rise.
He’d thought he’d been doing pretty good at staying under the radar. But the gods had always paid close attention to him. He was the twice savior of Olympus after all. It didn’t matter that he’d saved them, there were always some that wanted him dead.
But Percy had believed that at least the campers would always have his back. He had saved them too after all. He had led them into battle, had fought with them.
But, well… when the other well known savior of Olympus starts looking at you with suspicion it doesn’t take long for others to follow.
For godly parents to whisper in their children' s ears, in their dreams, that powerful people with unnatural powers are only a step away from monsters. Afterall, Perseus means destroyer.
So, really, he should have expected it.
—---
The celestial bronze chains keep him kneeling on the floor before the throne of the gods, his friends the demigods that captured him standing off to the side. Annabeth is here, refusing to look at him.
He knows he should have expected this, but has he not just saved them all? Typhon had attacked the camp, breaking through the magical barrier. Percy had used all of his powers to defeat him. He didn’t regret it. Thanks to him, no demigods had lost their lives. What did it matter how he had defeated the monster? Why did it matter that he had manipulated poison and the monster’s own blood? He had done by himself what it had taken most of the Olympians to do years prior.
He had saved them. He had saved the demigods who would have died trying to hold him back, and he had saved countless mortals who would have died as Typhon made his way to Olympus. He had aided the gods, for without him they would all have had to battle Typhon together.
And yet this is what they do to him?
Percy can feel rage curling in his stomach.
“Percy Jackson, once more you are brought before us. Once more we are to decide your fate. We have granted you leniency in the past because of your achievements. But I am sure we are all in agreement now that a demigod with powers like yours is unnatural and must not be allowed to live.” Zeus starts and Percy bristles..
He would speak, but they have gagged him.
He turns instead to his fellow demigods, but no one will look at him.
“Too long have we ignored your potential. Too long we have spared your life for your paltry accomplishments.” Athena continues.
Godkiller, they had whispered. That’s what they were all afraid of, what they had always been afraid of. He had been too young at first to understand when the first prophecy was hanging over him. He had been too busy trying to survive, trying to learn his place in this new world he found himself in. They had argued then if they should kill him before he reached sixteen.
“You have never shown us the respect we deserve.” Ares says next, and Percy ignores him.
It was the same argument now. Should they kill him because of his potential to destroy them? Had Athen herself not pointed out his fatal flaw was loyalty? Shouldn’t the goddess of wisdom realize that it would be better to gain his loyalty? For if the gods had his loyalty, wouldn’t he always fight for them.
But perhaps she knew even back then, that the gods would never have his true loyalty. They were too fickle, too prideful, too narcissistic. They had lost their ability to truly care for mortals, for their children, long ago.
Even now, Poseidon refuses to look at him. So much for being his favorite son.
So no. She would have realized it would be no use trying to gain his loyalty.
But the demigods… he was loyal to them. Most of them were younger. He wanted to protect them. Everything he had ever done was to protect them. And this is how they returned the favor?
Did they too fear he would kill the gods? Or did they fear he would turn on them?
It doesn’t really matter does it?
Right now he is standing trial before the gods.
And he can feel the ichor flowing in their veins, can feel the ichor starting to flow in his.
“So, Perseus Jackson, we have deemed it a necessity to end the threat you pose before you gain more power.” Athena says.
“But because of your great service,” she says with disdain, “you have two choices.” she looks down at him. “You can either accept your death as necessary, or,” she pauses for a moment, “if you beg for forgiveness for your arrogance you will be allowed to swear an oath on the River Styx to always obey Zeus. You will spend the rest of your days doing as he says, going where he wants you to go.” Athena’s expression makes it clear which option she prefers.
Annabeth turns to him. “Percy, please, I don’t want you to die.” There are tears in her eyes, but there’s also the steel that she carried with her on every quest. She’s made up her mind about him. She might not want him dead, but all she sees is who Tartarus turned him into. And she doesn’t like it.
But he still cares for her.
“Well, demigod, what will it be?” Zeus asks and the gag disappears from Percy’s mouth.
They always told him his fatal flaw was loyalty. But what is he supposed to do, when those he was loyal to turn against him?
He turns away from Annabeth, from the demigods.
“I wonder,” he says, “why are you doing this now? You had plenty of chances before. Why finally decide to kill me now?”
The gods don’t answer. He turns toward the demigods, towards Annabeth. “And you all. Do you think I’ll turn against you? Haven’t I saved you many times before?”
“Percy.” Annabeth says, stepping forward. “Tartarus changed you. A demigod isn’t supposed to be this powerful. It’s dangerous. Someone like Kronos or Gaea might try to manipulate you, turn you against the gods,” she pauses, “turn you against us.”
Percy closes his eyes. That was really all it was, wasn’t it? He was too strong, too powerful, and apparently too weak willed despite the fact that he had denied both Kronos and Gaea before. They loved to remind him that loyalty was his fatal flaw, but apparently it didn’t apply anymore.
He should have known this would happen. It had happened all throughout his childhood, at every school. He thought he had a good thing, he thought he might have friends, only for it all to be ripped away from him. It was happening again now.
But there was one difference. This time he could fight back.
He opened his eyes. “I will not beg forgiveness for my strength.”
“Then you chose death.” Athena says with a smile.
“No.” Percy says. “I choose freedom from the gods.”
He pulls on the gods’ ichor, feels them trying to fight him, but he makes the ground shake, and the skies fill with rain, he freezes the ichor in their veins and they collapse, not dead because you can never really kill a god, but they are out of the picture for now. Later he can chain them and throw them in Tartarus.
Now he stands, breaking the chains that held him, and turns to face the demigods that have collapsed because of the earthquake.
What do you do when those you are loyal to turn their backs on you? Do you still fight for them? Percy doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants right now.
But then Annabeth stands, holding out her dagger. There are tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry Percy. I can’t let you kill the gods. You were never supposed to have those powers. It’s wrong, unnatural. I–” she cuts off as Percy freezes the water in the air around her, keeping her still and her mouth closed. He does the same for the other demigods.
The rage inside him boils. He doesn’t know why it surprises him. Poseidon was known to destroy boats and villages in a fit of temper.
He manipulates the earth to form a cage around them. He’ll decide later what do. For now he turns back to the gods. It’s their fault after all. They’re the ones who turned the demigods against him.
Despite everything, he still cares for the demigods, is still loyal to them in some way. What does it matter if they hate him? He’s used to being hated.
Let them make him their villain.
He would keep them safe from monsters, from gods. He would build a better world for them.
No matter what it took.