Chapter Text
Percy Jackson couldn't breathe.
The hot liquid encased him, forcing its way into his mouth, his eyes, his nose; contaminating him, sinking deeper than skin, deeper than bone. It was thick. Suffocating.
Blood.
It was the blood of everything he had ever killed. Monsters that dissolved into dust. Demigods who didn’t. Children who had never made it home. Friends whose names still clung to him.
Percy choked on it, gasping, but there was no air, only more blood flooding his lungs, dragging him under. He thrashed, reaching for something, anything, but there was nothing to grab onto. No current to fight. No water to command.
He couldn’t control it.
Percy Jackson had learned, a long time ago, that dreams were rarely just dreams.
His eyes snapped open, he gasped for air, confused at the polluted air entering his lungs, he looked around scanning his surroundings. It was clear he wasn't in camp anymore. He shifted his body weight and stood up. Perhaps he was still in a dream, perhaps he would wake up in a peaceful camp Half-Blood. The thought died the moment he saw the body.
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He distinctly remembered Rina Jones, Daughter of Hypnos. He met her when she first came to camp, wide eyed and awe-struck. He was there when she got claimed, he taught her Sword-fighting, how to swim and spent many days lying on the grass, telling Rina and the other campers about his quests.
Three years later her lifeless corpse lay in front of him.
No. This is a dream.
Percy Jackson distinctly felt his heart stutter before he dropped to his knees and checked her pulse. He sighed in relief at the heartbeat, it was slow but better than nothing. He lifted up Rina’s head and shuffled her to try and wake her up.
“Rina!” he yelled “C’mon wake up” Nothing.
“I need you to tell me where you are” he pleaded
The dark skinned girl gasped as she opened her eyes, her voice was thick, almost as if her throat was filled with liquid.
“P-percy,” she forced out.
“I’m here.” He brushed the hair from her face. Her skin felt unnaturally cold. “Where are we, Rina?”
“Gotham,” she whispered.
Rina’s eyes moved past him, widening at something over his shoulder.
“You can't come here, percy, promise m-!” her last words echoed in his mind as a sword swiped clean through his body, ending the connection.
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For the second time, Percy woke up. This time in his own bed.
Percy didn’t move.
For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling of Cabin Three, his chest rising and falling too fast, like he was still drowning. The phantom weight of blood clung to him, thick in his lungs, in his throat, in the back of his mind.
Gotham.
“No,” Percy muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “No, no, no—”
Dreams meant things. They always had. Ever since he was a kid, ever since monsters and gods and fate decided his life wasn’t allowed to be simple.
And Rina-
Percy shot upright.
He didn’t remember swinging his legs off the bed, didn’t remember grabbing his jacket or bursting out of the cabin, but suddenly he was outside, the cool night air biting against his skin. Camp Half-Blood was quiet, even the harpies settled and the forest stopped whispering.
“Chiron!” Percy called, already running.
The Big House lights flickered on before he reached the porch. The door opened, and Chiron stood there, eyes sharp despite the late hour.
“Percy?” he said. “What’s wrong?”
Percy stopped just short of the steps, breath uneven. “I–I had a dream.”
Chiron’s expression tightened. “Tell me.”
“It was Rina,” Percy said, the name coming out harsher than he intended. “She was hurt. No–worse than hurt. She was dying. She said she was in Gotham.”
Chiron frowned. “Gotham?”
“Yeah, New Jersey,” Percy said. “And something was there. Some monster? I didn’t see it, but–” He swallowed. “It was after Rina… whatever was happening, it cut the connection.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then Chiron sighed, deep and heavy. “Percy, you must understand, there are places in the world even we do not fully touch. Cities where the Mist behaves… differently. For some reason Gotham is a city closer to Hades, there is something…unexplained about it”
Percy’s jaw clenched. “She told me not to come.”
“And yet you intend to,” Chiron said quietly.
Percy didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”
Chiron studied him for a long moment, as if weighing something far bigger than Percy could see. Finally, he said, “Then you must be careful. If what you saw is true, Gotham is not like the places you’ve faced before.”
Percy let out a humorless breath. “When is it ever?”
“That is precisely the problem,” Chiron replied.
Percy turned toward the hill, toward the invisible boundary that marked the edge of camp. His pulse had steadied, but the urgency hadn’t faded. If anything, it burned hotter now.
Rina had been alive.
Barely.
And something in Gotham had been strong enough to sever a dream like that.
Percy flexed his fingers, half-expecting them to come away red again.
“I’m going,” he said.
Behind him, Chiron didn’t try to stop him.
That was how Percy knew this wasn’t just another nightmare.