Chapter Text
The thing about being at Camp Half-Blood for years upon years is that there comes a point where it becomes really, really boring. Everything within the boundaries of Camp stays the same: the weather, the activities, the immortals. Sure, the people change and there’s the occasional new class or something, but by and large things stay the same. It’s reliable, yes, but also so boring for any demigod… or anybody really.
All that to say, Connor Stoll is getting bored. All the quests and Big Three kids stuff had been interesting, don’t get him wrong. Too interesting. There’s this balance of things that he needs that’s easy to upset, a constant push and pull between new things and not too much change. His ADHD and autism are always warring for some semblance of peace. But things are over now and there's no more prophecies, so things are back to normal.
Normal means boring, just to clarify. He's complained about it plenty to Travis, Pollux, and Will— all of which get where he's coming from… to an extent. Travis is off to college now, Will's all enamored with Nico, and Pollux, with all love to him, has the privilege to leave for a good 3-ish months every year. They have something outside of Camp.
But Connor? He's been here. He’d rather do a quest before he goes to college… and he hates the idea of a quest. He has no love life. He only leaves for supply runs to the same handful of stores around the area. See? Nothing changes. It gets boring.
Connor's never been too fond of school— mortal or Greek. He either can't sit through it because he’s so antsy or he gets so worked up he feels like he's about to have a meltdown. Does he get good grades? Always. Does it destroy him? Always. That to say, as soon as he finished the minimum requirements for his high school diploma and Greek stuff he opted the fuck out of school in favor of teaching and taking on more leadership roles.
New things, not new enough to fix it. Talking about his special interests is nice, doing his special interests for work is nice, getting closer with some of the senior campers is nice, but nothing hits quite right. Nothing makes him feel alive in the ways that he wants to be.
When he brought this up in therapy, Mr. D said he was depressed. No shit Sherlock, he has depression. He could recognize the lack of interest with activities and low mood, the way that nothing really seemed worthwhile anymore. Classic symptoms of depression, to the tee of the DSM or whatever book Will has in the infirmary. Doesn't fix it, though.
Then things start to change. And gods, does it change for the better.
It’s Fall Break for Camp when things change. Thanksgiving-ish. Connor’s family has never had the money to get him back home or to come to him for the break. West Virginia is far from New York, especially with how rural they live. Every few years, Camp sponsors him and Travis some tickets back home for a week around Christmas but that's it. They love them both, write and call and send what they can, but life in Appalachia is hard. It's nearly impossible to get out. He understands.
Long story short, he’s spending Fall Break just like he spent every other: at Camp doing nothing because everyone's gone. To add insult to injury, most of his supply runs were cancelled because everything's closed for the holiday or would've been too crowded for him to handle. So Connor’s really, really bored. He does actually like going on the supply runs, it's a nice routine, even if he complains sometimes.
That's when Chiron comes to his cabin, which he doesn't do very often. Only Connor’s there right now though, so it's clear it’s just for him.
He knocks on the door, “Mr. Stoll? It's Chiron,” as if anybody else clops up the steps.
“Come in!” Connor shouts back, he's laying on the floor reading a book about the geographical history of the Americas while listening to some records.
“How are you?” Chiron asks, looking down over him.
Connor sits up and shrugs, “Eh, fine. Bored. Nothing to do in the infirmary if nobody's here, yanno?”
“Dare not say the Q word though, as Mr. Solace preaches,” Chiron chuckles.
“Of course not,” Connor smiles back, “Did Mr. D send you? I'm not like… gonna lose my shit or anything, I'm just meh right now.”
“No, no. I came because something you could do arose. There's some prescriptions that can only be picked up at Mt. Sinai Hospital’s main campus in Manhattan, since it’s on backorder everywhere else,” Chiron explains.
Great, a million hour drive into the city alone and in the dead of holiday traffic. Thrilling. As much as he can command the roads, it's not like Connor's his dad and can just poof away traffic entirely. Bumper to bumper traffic is hard to influence. Supply runs aren’t fun when most of it’s in gridlock.
The immortal continues, “Mr. Jackson lives nearby and the campers staying with him for the break could use a ride back, if that interests you? Perhaps a stop at a shop or two is in the cards too, time allowing. It'll be tomorrow afternoon, getting back by 5pm.”
“Sure,” Connor shrugs, it's better than doing nothing he supposes. Even if the sudden change in plans slightly stresses him out.
“Splendid! Here's the keys, placard, card, and cash,” Chiron hands him everything, then turns towards the door, “And Mr. Stoll? I truly do wish you find what you are looking for.”
Weird, but Connor dismisses it because Chiron’s always saying weird shit like that when he's trying to be comforting or whatever. Not like it's amazing, but compared to how Chiron used to be this is a major upgrade. The old horse has come a long way, all things considered. Even if it took Mr. D laying it into him more than a handful of times.
The rest of the day passes like every other, the Hermes Cabin hauntingly quiet with its emptiness. It's times like this where his mind wanders to his siblings. Travis, yes, but more and more he finds his mind wandering back to Luke. Connor feels like he's more like him everyday— their roles at Camp, no educational future, can basically never go home.
It's not that he would ever do that shit, it's just he's more able to empathize with feeling stuck. Of wanting more out of life than this.
The next day, Connor leaves mid-morning after letting Annabeth know he'll get there around 3. She's quiet on the phone, but he can hear Percy in the background. Not that he's awake, but because his breathing is pretty loud. Genuinely, he has no clue how Annabeth or Percy can sleep in those conditions. Guess they don’t have much of a choice.
The drive isn't the worst ever. Definitely an annoying amount of traffic, but tolerable enough. He's got some old CDs in the van that Will and Cecil made a while back. It's a mix of old songs that they used to play in the cabin and whatever Will decided he likes the most because the rhythm feels the best. Admittedly it's a bit of a clusterfuck, but it's a good clusterfuck.
Mid-drive, she shoots him a text that they'll be in the same apartment building but a different unit— a mortal friend of Percy who’s been told about the Greek world. She also says, and he quotes, “Please for the love of every god in every pantheon don't break into the building and just use the buzzer like a normal person.”
Tall order. One that Connor's not planning to follow.
He stops at the hospital first to pick up what he needs. With the extra time, he goes to a couple shops and walks around Central Park. Connor doesn't usually, but it's nice to feel like he's just a normal guy. It's a nice break from routine. Before he knows it, it's nearly 3 and he heads over to Percy's place. He parks in this funky spot in the alley, but he trusts the Mist and the placard should take care of it.
Not listening to Annabeth’s pleas at all whatsoever, he places his hand on the door and it instantly unlocks. He fakes holding a fob to the reader just in case the desk guy is watching, but then enters and makes his way to the apartment. A man he doesn't recognize at all answers the door. He sees Mrs. Jackson though and knows he's in the right place.
“Hi, I'm Connor. I'm picking up Will, Nico, and Annabeth?” he waves politely, carefully weaving in his divinity to come off the right way.
“Of course! Come in, I'm Mr. Latu, a family friend of Percy. Are you hungry? Want water?” the man warmly greets.
“Thank you for the offer, but I'm okay. Where are they? We've got some time, but they want us back by 5pm,” Connor replies.
“In my son's room. Down that hall, second door on the right,” Mr. Latu points down a hallway, “But wash your hands first, use the orange soap next to the kitchen sink.”
Connor follows the instructions, then finds the room and greets the demigods, “Hey guys! I'm parked in the alley, we got some Mist wrapped around it so no rush. What's up?”
That’s when he processes the other person in front of him in the bed and Connor’s so taken aback he forgets all his words. He’s so godsdamn cute. The guy looks like he’s around Connor’s age. His hair is long and wavy, going past his shoulders and his face is angular, yet soft and inviting at the same time. And to get even more hot, his ears have little piercings cascading up the lobe and he’s got some pretty bracelets on.
He pushes himself to sit up a little more and smiles, “Hi! I'm Reid, he/him, Percy's token mortal friend. I'd be more welcoming, but I'm not moving all that great today. Do you wanna sit? Stay for a bit?”
Gods, and his smile is great too. Connor happily sits down. He quickly glances around the room looking for any hints about what Reid likes. From the scan, he gets that he’s probably Tongan and Marshallese, not straight, and likes reading a lot of sci-fi and non-fiction. Also that he’s probably born and raised in New York, judging by the pictures of a littler version of him in Central Park.
Oh shit, I still need to introduce myself.
“I'm Connor, son of Hermes and Camp's all-but-official errand runner. It's nice to meet you, it was Reid, yeah?” he greets, sticking his hand out for a handshake.
That’s polite, right? Masking mode, be normal for the pretty boy.
They end up having a really nice conversation where they talk about their shared geography special interest, so much for masking. It feels so perfect, like just fitting so nicely together. Not to mention, Reid’s into the same nerdy comics and stuff that he likes too. Connor tries to hide how upset he is when he gets a text from Chiron reminding him that they need to leave now to get back in time.
Suave as ever (extremely awkwardly and autistically), Connor gets Reid's contact info with some line about making supply runs into the city and making a map together. The scrap of paper with shaky handwriting securely in his pocket, he drives back to Camp and tries not to burst with excitement. He's gotta keep his cool, Annabeth and Will are already making jabs at him for being “totally whipped.”
Bullshit. Reid's just nice. And cute. And has a ton in common with Connor.
Okay… so maybe he's a little bit totally smitten. Reid was flirting back! It's not just on Connor.
When they get back, Nico's not doing great and he has to put all his attention towards that for a bit. Then Leo and Jason come back and Leo's not doing great either, so Will needs more help with infirmary type stuff. Connor doesn't mind helping though, he likes helping out his friends.
It isn't until a few days later that he gets around to calling Reid. It's kinda late at night, Will's sleeping in his cabin for a bit of a break so Connor's with Nico to make sure disaster doesn't strike or anything. But Nico's asleep and Leo's at his own cabin, so it's quiet. He still has the piece of paper with him, although he may or may not have accidentally memorized it. Just don’t tell Will that, Connor will never live it down.
So he bites the bullet and dials the number on his cellphone. Which is definitely not against the rules for him to have. Connor would never break the rules. It's not like there's an actual threat of monsters inside of Camp, in his defense. Let him have this one.
It rings a handful of times before somebody picks up, “Hello?”
“Hi, this is Connor? Stoll. Like my full name is Connor Stoll. I didn't steal anything in the past tense. Well I have, but not the point. I'm Percy’s friend? From Camp. Gods I'm fucking this up. Is this Reid?” Connor nervously rambles, roughly drumming his fist against his leg.
The person on the other end laughs softly, “This is Reid, yeah. It's good to hear from you, I was worried you weren't gonna call. How are you?”
“I've been alright, yeah. Sorry, shit, I got real busy. Nico's been having a nasty flare, so I've been helping out,” Connor feels like he's totally fumbling this one, his father's domains about being cunning or whatever doing him no favors, and his legs start bouncing.
“Is he okay?” Reid asks, hopefully not catching onto Connor's anxiety.
“Relatively. He's in a lot of pain and he's blacking out a lot. But he's sleeping right now, how are you?” Connor remembers he's supposed to ask questions when he's talking to people.
Nico stirs and Connor realizes that his stimming is sorta loud, so he forces himself to redirect to quieter alternatives. Much to his own discomfort.
“I'm better talking to you now,” the smirk in Reid's voice is audible, but the tone is still so gentle and warm, “My body’s been freaking out from Friday still. I had a bad seizure after having a bunch of small ones. They take a toll on me, so my head’s been hurting a lot and I'm still all foggy.”
“Seizures?” asks Connor, concerned.
“Oh yeahhh,” Reid says as if he had a sudden realization, “I have epilepsy. That’s why I can’t really do screens or IMs, photosensitivity. Causes a bunch of other crap with me too.”
“Ah, gotcha. Sucks that your head hurts,” Connor hums understandingly, then resorts to his old, reliable talk about a special interest strategy, “Have you been to that antique store in Queens over on 37th and Main? It's my favorite, they always have a bunch of pre-colonial maps. I got a cool map of Bhutan there on Saturday.”
“Really?!” Reid excitedly gasps, “I haven't ever been, it's hard for me to make it out there since I can't take the subway. I'll have to ask my dad to take me. What else do they have there?”
The two talk for over 3 hours that night, up until Reid notices the time and realizes his dad's getting up for work soon and he needs to get some sleep. Even though he's not planning to do any school work that day so he doesn't have to wake up for anything. Connor feels like he could bask in the cadence of Reid's voice forever. It’s just so comfortable.
It doesn't take long for them to fall into a routine of talking basically everyday. Sometimes texts or emails, the rare video call, but mostly phone calls. Even with all that talking, they never run out of things to talk about. Connor could endlessly exchange questions with Reid, it feels so natural. He feels so himself when he talks to Reid— a way he hasn't gotten to feel really since Luke.
Chiron definitely has an idea of what's going on considering Connor's been more than eager to do supply runs into the city, which he would always complain about before. And Connor takes longer than expected. Definitely not because he swings by Reid's place. He would never stray off path. It's not Connor's fault that his supply runs often fall on Reid's good days where he's feeling up to visitors.
Needless to say, Connor found what Chiron saw he was looking for.