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idksmtms · 24 days

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You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 8

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Part 7 << PART8 >> Part 9

AN: These are just getting longer and longer… Enjoy! I’m gonna try and end this at 10 parts so only two more to go!

Summary: Everything in Percy’s life is turning upside down. First he finds out he’s a demigod and ends up at a camp for people like him. But one thing always stays the same: bullies.

Word count: 11,466

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), personal insecurity, insecurity about one’s parenting, absentee parents technically, abandonment issues, angst, supposed major character death (but it’s acc not), Percy believing there is something wrong with him, negative view of one’s own ADHD and dyslexia, way too heavy use of dramatic irony, any warnings associated with Percy’s adventures, (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. (I do use some scenes from the show verbatim but I did not write the dialogue for those scenes, only the descriptions attached.)

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Though Percy wasn’t often excited by anything related to school, he had been looking forward to the Museum trip. It was a change of scenery from the drab halls of Yancy, and it was a chance to have fun with Grover. He didn’t even mind the learning part. This mythology unit they were currently in was his favourite of anything he had learned thus far. It was interesting, exciting, and weirdly comforting, like he was connected to it somehow but not in any way that made sense yet.

As Mr. Brunner took them around and explained some of the stories behind the statues, his mind began to wander (along with his gaze). The circular hall was a hodgepodge of statues from a variety of cultures depicting all sorts of mythological heroes, gods, and monsters. Mr. Brunner was currently parked in front of a statue of Apollo and Artemis, telling the story of how they were born, but Percy was looking to the right of it, a smaller statue carved out of wood. It was only a third of the size of the marble depiction of the twin deities, but it was just as beautiful, some argued even more so simply due to its rarity.

The plaque boasted that it was the only statue made during the Viking period that survived the mass burning post-Christianisation. A woman was laying down in a bed of flowers, each petal around her head and body painstakingly chipped into the wood. Her dress was long and airy, flowing into the wood at the bottom of the carving. Her eyes were closed and a sword was resting on her stomach, the hilt pulled up close to her chest and gripped tightly with both her hands. The sword itself was pitch-black from the hilt to the tip and the plaque explained that the statue was once coloured. Natural paints made of fruit and vegetable pastes had most likely been used and washed or faded away over time, but the sword had been made using burnt wood so it retained its colour. Her hair was loose and billowing around her head and there were faded black stains in different places. Her hair had most likely been coloured with some type of blue paint, the restorers speculated, some paste made with a blue mineral and crushed blueberries. Though all of this was only a guess supported by stories of the goddess’s appearance.

Percy remembered the statue from his trip to the museum with Aunt Sally when he was seven. She had stood in front of the statue for some time with a wistful smile on her face. He had tugged at her hand, asked her to tell him the story of this one, and she had ruffled his hair before bending down to press a kiss to his cheek.

“This is the goddess of love and war, from the Vikings.” He had stuck out his tongue at that, frowning and tilting his head.

“How is she the goddess of love and war? That doesn’t make any sense.” But Aunt Sally just smiled and shook her head.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you’d be surprised how similar love and war are, how much they intertwine with each other,” she answered simply, looking between him and the statue as if she could see something he couldn’t. “The stories say she was a heroine for the Vikings, their protector from the creatures they couldn’t see. At their height, they often claimed she was on the battlefield with them, that she was in each of their victories.” Percy was looking up at Sally with big, intrigued eyes, lips slightly parted as he breathed slowly. “I think she tended to lean on the love side of her duties more though,” Sally added, holding Percy’s hand a little tighter. She spoke as if she knew the goddess personally, and back then Percy honestly believed it. Aunt Sally was his entire world, she was amazing. It wouldn’t surprise him if she managed to befriend a goddess too.

“What else?” Percy asked quietly, pressing himself to Aunt Sally’s legs and gazing up at the carving.

“Well, she had blue hair, bright blue like the ocean.” And Percy smiled at that, whispering ‘that’s my favourite colour’ almost dazedly, enraptured with the statue and its story. “I know, I think you’d like her,” Sally whispered, closing her eyes for a moment as if she was in pain, and Percy saw her trying to wipe at them discreetly.

“Tell me more,” he demanded, and Sally only nodded before staying silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice sounded a little clogged and she didn’t look down at Percy.

“She was kind, and sweet, a good friend,” Sally cleared her throat, pushing some hair off her face and finally smiling down at Percy again, “at least that’s what the stories say!”

And then she was walking again, taking him to the next statue, and the one after, reading him what the plaques said. It was on the third statue that she paused again, gently placing a hand on Percy’s back as she pointed out the name for him.

“Perseus. That’s me,” and he smiled the innocent smile of a child, and Sally nodded enthusiastically.

“Mhm, that’s who you were named after.”

“Am I named after him because he’s a hero?” He asked innocently, and Sally only smirked.

“What makes you think he was a hero?”

“Because he killed monsters?” He scrunched up his nose as if it was obvious, but Sally only raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think she was a monster?”

“Aunt Sally,” he whined, pulling on her hand a little, and she just smiled, squeezing his hand in return and calling off the teasing.

“Not everyone who looks like a hero is a hero, and not everyone who looks like a monster is a monster. You were named after him because, against all odds, he found his way to a happy ending.” She gripped both of his cheeks and pressed a long kiss to his forehead. Percy just giggled, pushing her away before grabbing her hand and moving onto the next statue.

Percy hadn’t thought about that trip in a long time. It had been such a fun day, with blue ice cream and no homework. But he could still remember how wistful Aunt Sally seemed, as if it wasn’t the Met but a museum of her life that she was being forced to walk through.

“...Now, on your worksheets, I want you to choose one of the subjects you see here, and describe it. Not just how it looks, but how it makes you feel. Okay? Come on.” And Mr. Brunner clapped his hands to get them all moving.

Percy stared down at the clipboard, at the letters jumping around and shuffling themselves, and looked away almost instantly, heading to stand directly in front of the statue of Perseus profering Medusa’s head.

“Move, nerd,” Nancy spat out as she shoved past him. Percy gripped his clipboard tightly as he almost fell back before raising his hands in the air in shock. Nancy simply jerked her head at him and he scoffed.

“Mr. Jackson, you will learn to control yourself, do you understand me?” Percy felt his eyebrows leave his forehead.

“Me?” He asked in surprise, pointing at his own chest as if he couldn’t quite believe Mrs. Dodds was speaking to him.

“Do you understand me?” Her face didn’t move when she spoke, just that same stoic look of loathing that was probably there while she slept.

“He can’t help it, Mrs. Dodds. Percy’s special,” Nancy chimed in, emphasising ‘special’ with her lips in a way that made Percy want to walk over and shove her back.

“That’s enough.” Mr. Brunner interjected harshly, frowning as he rolled his wheelchair to Percy. “Pay them no mind. When you’re ready to hear what the gods have in store for you, they’ll tell you. I believe in you.” And he said it with such conviction, in that weird cryptic but sincere way that Aunt Sally always said that there was a bigger world out there for him. “And I believe you’ll be needing this,” he added, pulling a pen out of his coat pocket and profering it to him with a little ‘hm?’. Percy hadn’t even realised he had broken the tip of his pencil when Nancy shoved past, and he gave Mr. Brunner a pursed-lip smile as he took it from him. “Hang on to that,” Mr. Brunner gestured to the pen, “‘tis a mighty instrument.” And with a knowing and kind smile, he wheeled himself away.

Percy looked back up to the statue of Perseus and sighed.

A couple hours later, he sat down next to Grover by the fountain with a despondent sigh as they simultaneously unwrapped their sandwiches and switched fillings. Grover was trying to make him feel better, pointing out that there were many reasons as to why someone chose to bully someone else, but Percy just frowned and shook his head.

“I get that Nancy probably has a mountain of unresolved issues hiding in that hair of hers, I’m just tired of her taking it out on me.” Percy sighed, putting the top piece of bread back onto the sandwich and bringing it close to his mouth. “I feel like… maybe it’s time to do something about it,” he shrugged.

“You could make an appointment to talk to Mr. Kane! He’s really good at talking-”

“I was thinking more like shoving Nancy into a dumpster,” Percy interjected, a small mischievous smile on his face.

“Oh.” Grover stared at him. Then he began shaking his head vigorously, “No, no, no. If there’s one thing I know about bullies, it’s that you never stand up to them.” Percy frowned.

“That doesn’t sound right…”

“Look, we’re not gonna be here forever. I know this place is hard for us right now, but there are better places out there.” Grover’s sincerity, his bright little smile of hope and positivity, was infectious. Percy nodded, a smile appearing involuntarily. And then a slice of cheese came flying into the side of Grover’s face, and Nancy stood there smiling, letting out a little ‘oops’.

Percy couldn’t take it anymore. His chest was tight and the back of his throat felt like it was full of fire and he stood up, marching over to Nancy with his arms out, ready to push her into the fountain in his rage. He didn’t even touch her, not even a graze of her shoulder, and she went flying into the fountain. Like something had pulled her body from behind and dropped her into the water.

Percy stopped short. He stared at the space in front of him that Nancy had occupied up until about a second before. His hands were tingling and something had pulled deep inside his gut, but it was gone now. He could hear Nancy spluttering and squealing like a stuck pig. And then she began to scream “Percy pushed me! He pushed me!”

Someone asked if Nancy was ok, another person took up the cry that Percy had pushed her, and all he could do was stand there and stare between the fountain and his hands, and the feeling that somehow the water had listened to his urge and acted on his behalf. That something in the world had shifted all of a sudden, like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

The pen Mr. Brunner had given him was vibrating in his back pocket, shaking like crazy, and he pulled it out, staring at it as it seemed to flicker in and out of focus in his palm.

“There you are.” It felt like the voice was inside his skull, and it sounded just like Mrs. Dodds. Percy looked up, and through a gap in the crowd he could see her slowly walking toward him. She was too far away for it to have been her who spoke to him in that low tone, but the voice came again. “We’re not fools, Percy Jackson.” Percy watched her come closer, one step at a time and an almost smug tinge to that never-changing face of hers.

“Uh, Mrs. Dodds? You ok?” He asked, brows pulled together in a frown.

“It was only a matter of time before we found you.” Her lips weren’t moving but he could hear her so clearly, and he gulped, a hot and slimy fear snaking down his spine. Then one side of her coat began to lift up and over her head before it peeled back and unfolded into a grey-black wing. The other followed, morphing as it moved and unfolding to reveal a monstrous creature covered in leathery spikes and folds, hints of red in the crevices and over her slowly disappearing face. Her shoes had morphed into talons like bird feet, and she kept walking toward him.

Percy felt like he couldn’t breathe, blinking over and over again, hoping whatever episode this was would end quickly. But she kept coming. One of her wings pushed a person but they simply fell forward, looking back but not seeing anything noteworthy. Percy stared at them then back to Mrs. Dodds.

“Where is it, Half-Blood?” Her voice slithered in his mind. He began backing away, that fear coiling tighter and tighter around his spine. But the creature only walked onto the top of the water feature before spreading its wings and flying straight for him. In his rush to back away he fell flat onto the floor, hitting his head so hard it began to ring. He clutched the pen in his hand so tight he could no longer feel his fingers.The creature fell over him, crawling up so their faces were level and all he could smell was sulphur. “Where is it?” She raised one of her claws to his face and he simply clenched his eyes shut.

But the touch never came. A golden-orange light peaked at the crease of his eyelids and something was crumbling around his hands. He creaked one eye open, then the other. Mrs. Dodds was staring down at the space between them, at the sharp, bright, line of orange that seemed to emanate from the weapon in his hands, a glowing bronze sword. Her body was crumbling into dust, and when she looked back up at him her face contorted into rage. She reared back, as if she was about to come back down for the kill, but her face disappeared into a crush of dust that floated away into the wind. The ringing in Percy’s head turned into a white light in his eyes and everything- stopped.

As Percy walked through the hallway from the elevator to the adjoining hallway that would lead to the apartment door, he thought about the last words he had said to Mr. Brunner. “I don’t need any more stories about how special I don’t realise I am.” And he meant it. All that those stories had done was lead him to getting expelled from another school, getting betrayed by someone who he thought was his closest friend, and disappointing Aunt Sally all over again. Mr. Brunner had looked so downcast when he had said it, like Percy had personally hurt his feelings, but Percy was tired.

He was sick of this talk of potential waiting to happen, because the truth was there wasn’t any potential. He had nothing else to give. He tried and tried and the world never seemed to try back. Even if things were alright for a while, he always ended up back here, tail between his legs wondering why he simply wasn’t good enough for anything.

He could hear Gabe yelling already, and he tightened his grip on his bag. Eddie the handyman closed the door behind him and stood still for a second on the welcome mat. Percy could see the deep breath he took, could feel the exasperation and worn-thin patience that he experienced every minute he spent in Ugly Gabe’s presence. When Eddie turned around, he smiled sadly.

“Oh! Hello Percy.” Eddie always smiled when he saw Percy but this time it was only a tight pursed-lip one.

“Hey Eddie,” Percy sighed, “I’m sorry about that,” and Percy gestured to the door. Eddie looked at it then shook his head.

“I’m walking out, you’re walking in. I should be apologising to you,” and Eddie squinted in sympathy before walking off down the hallway.

When Percy entered the house, he was hit with the comforting smell of Aunt Sally’s many ocean-scented candles and air-fresheners, and the less comforting stink of body odour, cheap beer, and hair oil that Gabe seemed to drag into any room with him.

Speaking of Gabe, the man was sitting in his easy-chair directly in front of the tv, legs up and laptop resting on his thighs as he cracked another beer open right as Percy entered the house.

“Welcome home, genius!” He called, sneering at Percy as he stood in the hallway looking down at the train-wreck of a man.

“Is Aunt Sally home from work?” Percy asked tiredly, not interested in engaging in a conversation with the greaseball.

“Oh, is that all you got to say to me? Huh?” Gabe asked angrily, nodding his head as if Percy was proving whatever point he had concocted in his head. Percy could almost see the invisible high horse Gabe believed he sat on. “After failing out of school?”

“I didn’t fail out of school.” Percy scrunched up his face, shaking his head a little at the stupidity.

“Your principal called, and that’s what he said. He said you got kicked out.” Gabe moved back and forth a little as he spoke, and Percy watched the chair move rather than look at the man’s ratty little face. Then he paused for a moment, frowning as he took in the words Gabe said.

“They called Aunt Sally’s cell. You answer Aunt Sally’s cell?” He asked angrily, turning from his place in the hallway to look at Gabe, ready to argue.

“I answer whatever’s ringing,” Gabe argued back, shaking his head as if it was no big deal. “So what did you get kicked out for, hm?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer and looking at Percy with wide curious eyes. Percy could see the man was getting a kick out of it.

“He said I attacked a kid on a field trip,” Percy mumbled, looking at the carpet as he scuffed at it with his shoe. Gabe raised his eyebrows and seemed to nod in surprise. He almost looked like he respected Percy in that moment, and it made Percy’s frown deepen.

“Ok. Alright, if… but still, if you’re gonna live under my roof, you gotta live by my rules,” and Percy’s face scrunched up, turning to Gabe and shaking his head as if none of what he said made sense.

“Your roof? Aunt Sally is the only one employed here.”

“Excuse me?” Gabe was offended, eyebrows raising. “I have a job. What does it look like I’m doing right now?” Gabe gestured to the tv and laptop but Percy’s expression didn’t change.

“Losing at imaginary poker,” he answered simply, gesturing at the laptop as well.

“You would think that because you’re a child, and you don’t understand things like-”

“Where’s Aunt Sally?” He interrupted, looking down the hall. He was already tired, he didn’t need interactions with Gabe today.

“I don’t know. I don’t know where your aunt is. I’m not Nostradamus. What are we doing Percy? Every time!” But Percy just walked away, listening to Gabe’s distant and exasperated ‘wow! Wow!’.

As Percy walked farther into the apartment, he could hear the rain and realised the window in the other small den area was open. He could see Aunt Sally sitting on the fire escape, soaking in the rain. Her hair was damp and curling slightly, and her cardigan was becoming wet. Music was playing loudly from the corner and everything suddenly felt like it was crashing down on him all over again. His lip began to quiver and he wanted to cry.

“Aunt Sally…” he whimpered, screwing his eyes shut as she turned back and realised he was standing there. She quickly clambered in from the window but Percy was already speaking again. “I’m really sorry. I tried this time. You know how hard I’ve been trying. But this time it really wasn’t my fault. It really wasn’t my fault.” His words trailed off as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his head. Her hair dripped all over him and her damp shirt stuck to his face but it felt so good to be hugged, so he let her just embrace him. “I’m all wet,” he mumbled against her shoulder.

She pulled back but kept her hands on his shoulders, tilting her head so she could properly look at his face. She cupped his face in one hand and stroked his cheek as she smiled lovingly down at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just really glad to see you.” She grabbed the towel on the ironing table to her right and began scrunching the ends of her hair as she spoke. “I found Gabe on the phone with the headmaster and he told me what he thinks happened with Nancy Bobofit. I told him I believed my kid, it was a real short call.” She shrugged simply, pursing her lips and clutching the towel in her hands as she looked at Percy. He was staring at the floor, head downcast, and he only offered her a small smile in response. “Hey, all that matters is that you’re here, ok?” She asked, hoping to lift his mood a little, “and that I had time to get your welcome home gift,” she sang, reaching into a tote bag on one of the chairs and pulling out a little plastic pouch of blue jelly beans. He smiled a little more this time, watching her shake it just in front of him before grabbing it and putting it into his coat pocket.

Then Sally smiled sympathetically, crossing her arms over her stomach and waiting for Percy to look back up again before speaking. “Mr. Brunner called me too. He told me about Grover.” Percy began blinking again, feeling the tears burn the backs of his eyes and his mouth scrunched up a little. “Do you wanna talk about it?” His blinking slowed down again but he stared at the carpet a little harder, letting out a long breath. Sally straightened up a little. “Is there something else you wanna talk about?” She asked, concern dropping her voice a little lower. Percy looked up and met her eyes for a second before dropping his gaze back down. He took a deep breath in and began toying with the hem of his coat.

“Something happened to me. Something has been happening to me. More than just my mind wandering, and it got worse, and…” he trailed off. They both listened to the rain as she waited for him to speak and he gathered his words. “I’m scared.” He looked up finally, staring straight into her eyes as he said the words. They just looked at each other for a moment, Sally’s lower lip pulled slightly into her mouth. Then she simply looked past Percy and yelled,

“Gabe!”

“Aunt Sally?” Percy asked, staring at her, suddenly worried she was going to tell Gabe everything he had just said, but she simply waited for Gabe to appear in the hallway. He grumbled as he got up and came down the hallway, adjusting his pants higher onto his hips and pointed back to the living room as he spoke.

“I don’t know how anyone expects me to get any work done-”

“Percy and I are leaving for Montauk.”

Percy didn’t realise he had fallen asleep in the car until after he woke up from the bone-chilling nightmare. After witnessing Aunt Sally put Gabe in his place and hurriedly packing a bag for the weekend, he had simply fallen into the passenger seat and passed out when they hit the road outside the city.

He looked to the left slowly, shifting a little further up in his seat, watching Aunt Sally hurriedly wipe tears off her cheeks when she realised he was still awake. She smiled at him, mumbling out a ‘we’re here’ as she watched him fully sit up straight.

“On three?” He asked quietly, and she smiled, nodding as she looked ahead and began counting. On two he bolted out of the door, smiling widely as she squealed and struggled out of her seat.

After they had settled everything into their rooms and Sally started the fire in the living room, he went to the bathroom to change his clothes and have a quick wash up before dinner. He washed his hands and splashed his face, then stood in front of the sink staring at the mirror. He couldn’t keep pushing it off anymore. He had to tell Aunt Sally about what happened and how something needed to change because nothing was right anymore.

By the time he came back out, Aunt Sally was standing at one of the kitchen counters with a pack of marshmallows. The table hadn’t been cleared from dinner but more candles had been lit and placed around the cabin, only one or two lamps flicked on here and there. He tapped her on the opposite shoulder and smiled when she looked there then back to the other side where he stood.

“I found the good marshmallows, the ones that don’t burn so easy.” She sounded so proud and happy, but Percy could only nod.

“I don’t think it was ever the marshmallow’s fault that I wasn’t paying attention,” he sighed, and she paused. She put down the marshmallow she had been holding and turned to look at Percy. The serious look on his face made her fully turn and lean her hip against the counter. She waited for him to say whatever he clearly wanted to say, crossing her arms loosely.

“Aunt Sally… I need to talk to you about something.” She simply watched him for a moment, then nodded, standing up fully again and telling him to head to the couch and get cosy by the fire. They would talk there.

Sally curled up on one end of the couch and Percy sat down on the other. He leaned his elbows on his knees and stared into the fire. “I’m used to feeling weird. I’m used to the world feeling weird to me. Like a puzzle with half the wrong pieces. I try to pay attention, I really try,” and he looked at her as he said this, his face so earnest, “but then I’m daydreaming. I can’t help it. But lately it hasn’t felt like daydreaming. It’s felt…” he paused, looking back down at his hands. “I don’t know. More real, maybe?” He took a deep breath in, and Sally averted her eyes to her lap. “And then we were at the museum, and…”

“You saw something,” she said quietly, knowingly. He nodded, stilted and slow, but a nod nonetheless. “Something that felt real to you, but no one else could see?” Again, he nodded, lips pursed. She tilted her head down a little to look at his face, then put her hand on his back and rubbed it softly. “What did she say to you?” Sally asked apprehensively. Percy’s head snapped up to look at her, and he frowned in confusion.

“She? How did you know it was a she?”

Sally paused, and he could see the millions of thoughts running around behind her eyes. She leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling before clenching her eyes shut tightly, as if fighting with her lips. She pushed her lips out and shook her head, like the fight was raging and she was in pain. Then, with her eyes still closed, she asked,

“Do you know why we come to this cabin every year?” Her head came back down but now she was the one looking into the fire and avoiding his gaze.

“Because it’s near the septic tanks so it’s cheap,” Percy answered quickly, still bewildered and shaking his head a little as he spoke. “Aunt Sally, how do you know about the thing I saw?”

“We come to this place every year, because this is the place I met your parents,” she spoke quickly, only turning to look at him with her face set firmly as the last words left her lips. He stared at her.

“My parents? What do my parents have to do with this? And what do you mean ‘met them’?”

She smiled a little, a sad little thing that said ‘there’s so much you don’t know’ then gently cupped the side of his head, pushing some of his curls back.

“A long time ago, I met a woman, here, on the beach. She was kind, and brave, and sweet, and… noble. And she introduced me to her husband, and he was just like her. He was wise, and caring, and they loved each other like no love I had ever witnessed before. And… ugh, look Percy, I can’t tell you about your mom, but your father? He was a god.” Sally paused, gulping then letting out a whooshing breath. She looked at Percy and he was just staring at her like her head had popped off.

“God? Like Jesus? Like you met some woman who said she married Jesus and you believe her?” He asked, one eyebrow curling up slightly with his sceptical tone.

“Not God, Percy,” she sighed, “a god.” She turned to sit facing him and gently held his hands in hers. “Look, Percy, the stories that I have told you, about Greek gods and monsters? About Norse mythology? They are real.” Percy began shaking his head.

“Aunt Sally-”

“In those stories, I have told you about how gods fight, and get married, and sometimes they have children with mortals…”

“Aunt Sally, please, stop.”

“How they can have demigod children…”

“Aunt Sally!”

“And sometimes they are known as half-bloods.” Percy paused, slowly turning his head to look at his Aunt Sally, at the desperate look on her face as if she needed him to believe her.

“That’s what the monster called me. Aunt Sally, what’s happening?”

“You are a half-blood.” She breathed out, eyes roaming over his face for any sign of belief. “And half-bloods are not safe in the world. Once they reach a certain age and they begin… to understand what they are, terrible forces are drawn to them, driven to harm them before they can become strong enough to fight back. That is what you have been feeling.” She gripped his shoulder tightly, shaking him just a little as if it would make him believe it any more. “It has always been a part of who you are, it was always coming,” her words were beginning to become frantic, “I just-”

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked angrily, shaking his head and staring at her as she moved even closer to him.

“Percy, I know this is hard to understand, but you have to believe me that this is real,” she pressed.

“No, this is crazy, ok? I am not a god. There is something wrong with my brain.” She clenched her eyes shut, tears leaking down her cheeks and sweat collecting on her upper lip as she leaned back to look at his face, slowly shaking her head like she was flexing her neck. “I understand that I’m weird, believe me, I get it,” and she smiled in pain at that, her face saying that it hurt her that he believed that, that it simply wasn’t true, tilting her head to the side and huffing out a breath as he continued. “But I’m afraid something may be really broken now!”

“Oh, honey, no-”

“And-and now you’re telling me stories, like it’s gonna make it ok?” She pursed her lips and looked down. “Well I’m not a baby! I know there’s no such thing as monsters, I know there’s no such things as gods, and I know for certain that there is no such thing as demi-gods.” His words were final, and he only got to stare into her eyes for a moment before there was suddenly a knock at the door, and Grover was calling out for Aunt Sally.

And it was only moments later that Grover was standing in the hallway with goat legs.

When Grover pulled his beanie off as they drove down the highway, Percy felt for the first time that Aunt Sally had been telling the truth. The little horns poking through his curls were so… real. And then the explanation for Grover’s betrayal was so crazy that he was angry again, and this concept of ‘the Mist’ was so confusing that he felt lost all over again.

“The sooner we get you to camp, the better of you’re…” Percy snapped his head back to look at Grover. He paused, mouth open, staring at Percy then turning to look at the back of Sally’s head. “You told him about camp, right?”

“Not yet, no,” she answered, exasperated, and Percy just sat back in his seat and looked at her. She glanced at him, just a moment, and he frowned.

“Camp is a sanctuary for half-bloods. A safe space where you can learn who you are and what the world is like on the other side of the Mist.” Grover leaned back a little and looked out the windshield before tapping on the shoulder of Sally’s seat. “Uh, it’s not far, actually, just a little ways past the bend up there,” and he pointed to somewhere in the rain in front of the car. But Percy didn’t look, he kept staring at his Aunt Sally and frowning.

“Aunt Sally, what else haven’t we talked about? What else haven’t you told me?” He paused for a second, settling further into his seat. “Why can’t you tell me about my mom? What’s so dangerous that you can’t tell me about her?”

Just as Sally opened her mouth to respond, to say anything about all the secrets that had suddenly opened up between them, the road under them shuddered, and something roared in the distance behind the car. There was a flash of light, and Percy watched as the silhouette of something huge dropped down onto the road.

“Is that the Minotaur?!”

In the yellow glow of the totaled car’s headlights, Percy watched as the only parent he had ever known was crushed in the hands of a monster. He watched his mother disappear in a flash, watched the woman who had tried to fill the role of a father disappear into dust. His chest filled with rage like a gallon of water being poured into a shot glass. His mind suddenly quieted, only the rush of his blood pounding in his ears. Aunt Sally’s face flashed before his eyes, glowing in the yellow lights, dripping with rain. Her hands gripping his face as she tried not to cry, biting at her lips as she pressed out the words. “You… are not not broken. You are singular. You’re a miracle. And you are my kid. Hold fast. Brave the storm.” She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs and smiled, sad yet hopeful, sweet yet resigned. “I love you.” Her watery voice. He saw her reaching for him before the crush. He uncapped the pen and watched it grow into a sword in his hands. And then he charged.

Percy was hoping he had dreamed everything from the conversation with Aunt Sally to the creepy girl standing over his bed. But when he woke up and the first thing he saw was Grover with his little horns poking out of his head, he knew he had really killed the Minotaur, and that Aunt Sally was gone…

Grover tried to talk to him about it, desperately wanted to talk to him about it, but he wasn’t ready. His mind was already playing everything on loop for him and he didn’t want to talk about it too.

“Your job is done,” he told Grover, and it hurt. Because it had all been a job. Every laugh, every moment of their friendship had been a cover. And he didn’t want to talk about that either.

As he headed for the door, Grover asked where he was going. Percy clenched his jaw and turned back to look at him, his mind set on one thing and one thing only. “It was so important I get here ‘cause my father is a god. So I’m gonna go find him.” The words were so simple but he spoke so gravely.

“It’s not that…” Percy was already out the door, “simple.”

As Percy stepped out and onto a porch, he couldn’t help but look around in wonder. The house had been built on the banks of a beautiful lake with turquoise green water and a pebble beach. Orange kayaks and rowing boats were sitting near the treeline with people in equally orange shirts milling about around them. On his other side, a type of orangery was jutting from the house, made of pristine white-painted wood and huge panes of painted glass windows.

Inside the orangery, a man was sitting reclined in a chair, sunglasses over his eyes and face tipped up to the ceiling. Even from the distance he was stood at, Percy could see the man was wearing an absolutely abominable Hawaiian shirt and had quite a long salt-and-pepper beard. Percy walked closer, pausing in the doorway to observe the scene. A wheelchair with a blanket draped over the seat was placed next to the man and both seats were placed around a pink marble table. The doors on each of the walls had all been thrown open and the natural light of the sun painted the window patterns on the hardwood floor. A small candle chandelier hung from the ceiling and there were even huge candelabras on the floor, flanking even bigger ornate white pots of flowers and small trees.

“Excuse me?” Percy began quietly, “I’m Percy Jackson, I’m new here.” The man didn’t budge from his seat. He simply took a long breath in, twisted his head slightly to the left and yelled,

“Peter Johnson is here!”

“‘Kay. That isn’t… really my name,” Percy responded awkwardly, holding up one of his hands, “I guess I’m looking for the office? Or whoever’s in charge, so…” The man began sitting up a little and removed his sunglasses to look at Percy. A faint ‘wait, wait, wait, wait’ reached Percy’s ears and Grover came running into the room, stopping just beside Percy and quickly touching him on the arm.

“Um, Percy,” then he gestured to the man at the table, “Mr. D, Camp Director.” Then he gestured back to Percy while looking at the man, “Mr. D, this is, uh, Percy Jackson.”

“Yeah, Grover, I heard him the first time,” the man responded breezily, frowning at the satyr as he threw his sunglasses onto the table.

“Yeah. But did you?” Percy added, tilting his head as he looked at Mr. D.

“Ok,” Grover breathed out, pulling on Percy’s shoulder and turning him back so he could lean in closer. “You really don’t wanna start with this guy.”

“He’s starting with me,” Percy argued back, gesturing to Mr. D with his arm.

“Percy, the D is for Dionysus. That’s Dionysus.” Grover urged, glancing to Mr. D then back to Percy who was squinting at him.

“What do you mean, Dionysus? The- like the god, Dionysus?” He asked, staring at Grover.

“Yes.”

“No way.”

“Yes.”

Percy looked around then simply gave Grover a little nod before they both turned back to face Mr. D who was looking up at them with a bored face.

“Excuse me, Your Highness?” And Mr. D grimaced, shaking his head and letting out a little ’oh’ that was part exasperation, part annoyance, and part disappointment, but Percy simply continued. “I think my dad may be around here somewhere. I don’t know how to ask for him,” and Percy looked around because he didn’t have a single clue about who he was looking for or how to find him, and it all sounded kind of delusional and crazy when the thoughts became words that came out of his mouth. “I don’t-I don’t even know his name. But I think I should see him. I just…” Percy sighed, “I think I really need that right now. Can you help me?”

Mr. D slowly sat up with a dignified smile on his face, depositing his drink on the table as he nodded.

“Actually… I think I can.” He spoke slowly, and Percy’s eyes began to fill with hope. “Son.” He stared at Mr. D. The man was smiling in a self-satisfied way and simply watching Percy.

“Dad?” He questioned.

“Yes, Peter,” Mr. D answered, folding his hands in his lap.

“It’s Percy,” he mumbled, not being able to tear his eyes away from Dionysus’s face.

“Exactly,” the man brushed off. “Now, before we get to know each other, there’s something very important I want you to do for me, okay?” Mr. D gestured with his hands as he spoke, a grave look falling onto his face. Percy only nodded in reply, hesitant shakes of the head. Mr. D smiled and leaned back a little in his chair.

“In the galley,” he pointed out one of the doors, “there is a bottle of 1985 Chateau Haut-Brion.” He spoke with such reverence, gesturing with pinched fingers in front of his face as a giddy look crossed his face. “Will you go fetch that for me?” Percy stood still for a moment.

“Is that really all you have to say to me?” He asked, everything inside him suddenly agitated.

“Hey, um, Mr. D, even if Percy was-”

“Uh, uh, uh, bup!” Mr. D made a pinching motion in the direction of Grover’s mouth. “Grover, quiet, please. This is a nice moment, don’t ruin it. The galley is right down that path,” he pointed out the door to his right again, “grab that bottle and I’ll talk to you about whatever you want. You know, uh…” he moved his head around as he tried to come up with something, “you, uh… me, who cares?” He batted his hand around in the air and frowned.

Just as Percy stepped toward the door, he stopped again and stared at Mr. Brunner as he came walking up the dirt path to the orangery. With a horse attached to his body. Or… the body of a horse attached to his… body. The centaur walked up to the entrance of the orangery and stood in front of Percy. Everyone was silent for a moment.

“Percy.”

“Mr. Brunner?” He asked, staring up from the horse legs to the old-man cardigan and grey blazer.

“Uh, Mr. Brunner’s real name is Chiron. Camp activities director, immortal trainer of heroes, he is-”

“Grover, thank you. I’ll take it from here,” he politely interrupted, smiling at the excitable satyr who simply pursed his lips and nodded, swinging his arms back and forth. “Oh, Percy, this must be a lot for you to process,” he said kindly.

“Oh, no. It’s-it’s fine. I mean, you’re a horse,” he gestured to Mr. Brunner’s lower body, “my father won’t talk to me unless I get him a drink.” He pointed at Mr. D who simply gulped from his can then brought it down again when he noticed they were all looking at him. Chiron looked between Mr. D and Percy, a look of surprise slowly widening his face. “Well, this all seems totally normal and reasonable.”

“Oh, no, no, no. No,” Mr. Brunner began shaking his head, “Mr. D is not your father.” Percy and Grover simultaneously turned to look at Mr. D. He simply shrugged and held out his hand as he looked at Chiron.

“I could be.”

“Yes, but are you?” Chiron asked, hands holding the lapels of his blazer.

“Why must you ruin everything?” Mr. D answered petulantly, but Chiron ignored him and turned back to Percy.

“Mr. D knows that Zeus has forbidden him from consuming alcohol. And that demigods are able to do things for gods that gods are forbidden to do themselves,” and Mr. D sighed in the background, reaching for his can and bringing it to his lips again. “Mr. D was taking advantage of that, hm?” Percy turned to look at Mr. D with a frown and the man simply let out an ‘eh’ and shrugged. “Percy?” He turned back to Mr. Brunner - uh, Chiron - and the man smiled comfortingly down at him. “Walk with me and we’ll start again, hm?” He only shot one last look at Mr. D before walking out of the room. Grover went to follow but Chiron held up a finger. “Uh, Grover, please give us a moment.” And with an approving smile, he followed after Percy.

Grover stumbled backward into the room then walked to the other door to watch Chiron and Percy walk along the path down to the lake.

“This doesn’t feel right,” he murmured.

“What, success?” Mr. D answered from behind him. “You got the boy to camp alive. Don’t overthink it.” Grover nodded a little and turned back to look at Mr. D.

“Yeah, but it’s…” Mr. D shot him a look, head tilted forward and eyes saying, ‘really?’. Grover turned back to the door and watched the centaur and the boy walk farther and farther away.

Percy stood in front of the rolled up sleeping bag and his backpack set on the floor of the Hermes cabin. He stared at it for a moment before getting onto his knees and opening the flap of his bag. Right at the top was the little plastic pouch of blue jelly beans Aunt Sally had given him before all the craziness had occurred and he held it gently in his hand, tears burning at the backs of his eyes all over again. He could see the happy little smile she had given him as she shook the bag in front of his face, the damp hug she had pulled him into.

A little group of campers was gathered to his right and he could see one of them begin to approach. He sighed, a sense of despair filling his limbs with exhaustion. He couldn’t do this today.

“Look, if you want to give me a hard time, just do it tomorrow. I can’t do anymore today,” he sighed as he got back onto his feet, looking at the boy in front of him. He had a scar on his face running down his cheek from under his eye and he simply brushed off Percy’s words.

“Heard what happened to you on the hill. And I just… wanted to say I’m really sorry.” Percy nodded, looking away from the boy’s face. “I know what you’re going through. Believe me. Losing your mom is…” The boy gave a rueful little smile but Percy just began shaking his head.

“Oh, she wasn’t… she wasn’t my mom.” It felt wrong to say that though, because Sally had been Percy’s mom all these years. She was the one that did everything mothers do while his real one was gods know where. “She was my aunt, Aunt Sally,” he told the kid, pursing his lips.

“Oh,” the kid reared back a little in surprise, tilting his head in question but not choosing to ask anything further. He simply nodded then held out his hand. “I’m Luke.” Percy reached out and shook his hand.

When Percy jumped awake, Luke was already standing near the end of his make-shift bed. He smiled at him in commiseration.

“Intense, recurring nightmares. That’s normal here.” Percy stood up and stretched his back a little, feeling the stiffness and soreness in his muscles slowly began to dissipate. “And the daydreams, and the ADHD, and dyslexia. Demigods just process reality differently than humans do.” Then Luke smiled and gestured to the cabin. “For the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.” Percy squinted at Luke in question.

“So are you also… Do you not know who your-”

“Am I unclaimed? No. Hermes is my father.” For a moment Luke’s face was stormy but the look was gone so quickly Percy didn’t question it. “That doesn’t matter,” Luke shook off, “we’re all on the same team here.” But Percy couldn’t let it go. He frowned at Luke as petulance brewed in his expression.

“Why is that ok? Why do they get to bring us here to just ignore some of us?”

“Spend too much time trying to figure out why the gods do whatever it is they do, you’ll drive yourself crazy,” and the way Luke said it made Percy think he was speaking from experience. “Sooner you stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer,” Luke smiled.

“And what’s that?”

“Glory.”

As Luke went about explaining what exactly glory was and why in the world it was so important at Camp, Percy listened intently. He liked the way Luke spoke, the way he was so comforting and treated him like he was his little brother who he wanted to teach things to, to spend time with.

Percy had always thought it was great with just him and Aunt Sally. They didn’t need anyone else. Even when Gabe came to live with them it didn’t feel like he was actually joining the family, just hanging around. But it felt nice to have someone treat him like a sibling would. He wouldn’t have minded having a brother if it was Luke.

Just as they followed the curve of the path around a little grass nole in the middle of the circle of cabins, someone shoved past him, sending him into Luke’s side. He turned to look at them, a loud ‘hey!’ leaving his lips as he frowned at the girl standing just there. She only stepped forward and shoved him in the chest so hard he went straight into the dirt onto his back. She was glaring down at him, a look of annoyance and superiority on her face as Luke came to stand between them.

“Hey. Know it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke glanced at Percy to make sure he was alright as one of the other Hermes kids helped him up, before turning back to stare at Clarisse with a hard look in his eyes. She only smiled, a cruel smile as she gestured to Percy.

“Wait, so this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” She turned to look at Percy properly and he only frowned, looking at her warily like she would shove him again.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll bet.” But she didn’t look impressed with what she saw. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for when it comes.” Then she pressed forward like she was going to attack him and he stumbled back, but she was already walking away with a gleeful smile, the people following her laughing together as they glanced at him in all his scrawny glory.

Percy stood there for a moment, watching her walk away.

“Well, she seems nice,” he said sarcastically.

“Ares kids.” Luke said it like it was all the explanation he needed but Percy just looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged, “they come by it honestly.”

“Why don’t they mess with you?”

“They know better,” Luke answered with a smirk, hands on his hips.

“Luke’s the strongest swordsman at camp,” Chris chimed in. Percy looked up at him and began connecting dots in his head.

“So, they leave you alone because ‘glory’?” Luke just nodded. “So if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”

“Exactly,” Luke nodded again, clapping him on the back, and Percy finally felt like he was beginning to understand how things worked around this place.

“And people think I’m a big deal?”

“Well, sorta, but-” Luke tilted his head to the side, a very simple gesture that said ‘I wouldn’t choose those words yet’.

“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me,” Percy added, finally feeling like he had a solution, but Luke just frowned a little bit.

“You can’t force the gods to do anything.”

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?” It all sounded so simple when he said it like that.

“Maybe,” Luke answered quietly, nodding in thought.

“Well, great! Where do we start?” And Percy smiled properly for the first time since he had arrived at Camp.

As Percy sat down at the pavilion table with Chris and Luke after a dismal afternoon, he let out a long sigh.

“Is there a Greek god of disappointment?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in exasperation, “maybe someone should ask him if he’s missing a kid.” Luke looked up in thought, squinting and tilting his head.

“Oizys… but she’s a goddess. And her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s more like failure.” Chris answered, fiddling with his fork. Percy sighed and gestured at himself.

��Well, that works too. Maybe she’s my mom,” he shrugged, looking down at his plate.

“We’re gonna find the thing that you’re good at. I know it.” Luke leaned forward so Percy was forced to look at him and he smiled in that soft, brotherly, way. They were quiet for a moment and Percy continued picking at his food when Luke brought his elbows to rest on the table and folded his hands under his chin. “So you don’t know either of your parents?” He asked, frowning at Percy.

“No, my Aunt Sally raised me. At least, that’s what I’ve called her my entire life. She’s the one who told me about my dad, that he’s a god…” Percy paused, staring at the table. “She didn’t tell me anything about my mom though. I was asking her about it before… everything.” Luke nodded in understanding but Percy didn’t look up from his plate until a gong sounded throughout the pavilion and Luke sighed.

“Our turn,” he told Percy, smirking in exasperation before grabbing his plate and standing up.

“Our turn for what?”

“Burnt offerings,” Luke and Chris answered simultaneously. “The gods like the smell, so it gets their attention before you say a prayer,” Luke added. Percy just stared up at them in confusion.

“They like the smell of burnt mac & cheese?” He asked.

“They like the smell of begging,” Chris answered, smirking sarcastically. Luke just chuckled quietly as Chris walked off with his plate.

“You burn what you’ll miss the most. Then they know you really mean what you’re about to say, so they listen.” And Luke walked away with a shake of his head.

But an idea was brewing in Percy’s mind and he needed his jelly beans for it.

Percy went as deep in the woods as he wanted to risk, and built a fire in an old can he had found in the trash. Aunt Sally had taught him how to build fires on a camping trip a couple years ago and the dry sticks and leaves on the floor were perfect kindling. He stared into the little pot of flames and held tightly onto the pouch of blue jelly beans. Slowly, he picked one out of the pouch and dropped it into the flames. It began to melt and he could hear the sugar sizzling at the bottom of the can.

“Hi, Aunt Sally. I don’t know if I’m doing this right. I hope you can hear me.” He paused, gathering his words. “I think you used to hate this. When the phone would ring the night after you left me at a new school. I’d tell you that the people are awful. That I wanted to come home.” His voice felt so heavy, and he cleared his throat but the feeling didn’t go away. “Well… the good news is… this isn’t that call.” He smiled a little. “I hope you’re sitting down, but… I think I’ve made some friends here. Like, real friends.” He stared into the fire like soon the flames would form her face. “I think they might really like me. Imagine that.” A huff-laugh left his lips and he looked away from the fire. “He isn’t here. My father, he just… didn’t show. I mean, ignoring me is one thing, but he doesn’t get to ignore you.” He clenched his jaw, face twitching in anger. “I’m gonna make him come down here. I’m gonna make him see me. I’m gonna make him see us both.”

Percy flexed his jaw and closed his eyes. He was angry, and scared, and disappointed, and hopeful, and determined. He was going to do it. Whatever it took. And then, slowly, he picked another jelly bean out of the pouch and dropped it into the fire. He thought of someone he didn’t know, someone who could look like anyone, sound like anyone, be like anyone.

“Hey, uh, mom?” The word felt so awkward coming out of his mouth. “Long time, no speak,” he chuckled awkwardly and winced at himself, pressing his face into his knees and rubbing his hair aggressively. “Uh, sorry. Look, I don’t really know who you are, or what you look like, or anything, so, sorry about that I guess. I mean, it’s not really my fault, ya know?

“Anyway, I don’t even know why I’m talking to you right now. It’s not like you’ve ever been around either. But I guess with everything changing, now’s the time to try and talk to you.” Suddenly tears collected in his eyes and his hands began to shake and he turned to stare into the fire as pain filled his chest and a lump grew in his throat.

“Where are you? Why haven’t you been here? Aunt Sally once said she thinks you’re the one sending all those birthday gifts, and-” he took a shuddering breath in, lips quivering as he tried to control the urge to sob. “Why aren’t you here to explain them all to me? Why aren’t you here to explain this entire world and tell me what I should do? Why aren’t you here to tell me who my father is, and why in the world you loved him?” Percy paused, wiping haphazardly at his nose. “Why don’t you love me?” He breathed out.

Far away, a woman sat dazed on one of the roots of Yggdrasil. You were staring into a pool of water that had collected between the roots of the tree of life, willing it to show you something, anything other than your own reflection, willing it to listen to the power you had that no longer seemed to work. Your knees hurt from pressing on the unforgiving branch but you didn’t move. The edges of your white dress were turning grey and brown with the grime and water, and your bare arms and shoulders were beginning to get cold.

Then, as if by the very magic that was threaded into the air of Asgard, the smell of burning sugar reached your nose. It was soft, barely a hint at first, and it mixed with the smell of food colouring and gelatin being burned as well. You frowned, closing your eyes and sniffing the air. And slowly, like someone was moving one side of a pair of headphones closer then farther away from your ear, a voice began to reach you. You tried to follow it with your head, to find it and bring it closer, but it faded in and out.

The voice was full of pain, and you felt that pain within yourself, now. It filled up your throat and made your fingertips hurt. Your eyes began to burn behind your eyelids and tears slipped past the cracks. You could hear some of the words now, “where are you…” a child’s voice, desperate. “Why aren’t you here…” through shuddering breaths and a cracking voice. A voice you would know like a song from your childhood. You smiled through the pain, the tears streaming down your face like unstoppable rivers now, dripping into the puddle before you. And suddenly the voice was clearer, coming from right in front of you, and you opened your eyes hurriedly, breathing in big gulps of air as you saw your son’s face right in front of you.

His eyes were red, big and blue just like his father’s. And you couldn’t help the little laugh that left you, a watery, relieved, sound that mingled pain and joy so perfectly. His hair was curly and blond and unkempt and you reached out, hoping you could brush your fingers through it, but your fingertips only met water and rippled the image of his face. His cheeks were wet with tears and he was almost glaring into the fire.

“Why don’t you love me?” He whispered, and you shook your head, entire body shaking as you sobbed out, ‘no, no, that’s not true.’ Your voice crackled and your face was scrunched up as if someone was stabbing you in the chest and twisting the knife. Your very organs were in turmoil.

“Perseus,” you whispered, reaching out to the puddle again. He looked up and then around himself, as if someone had spoken behind him, and this time when your fingers touched the water, the image dissolved with the ripples. You cried out, your hand fully immersed in the water and sat there, shaking with sobs. Then a frenzy overtook you.

You had to find him. You had to get to your son. Something had happened, you were sure of it. If he knew how to make a sacrifice now, he had entered your world. And if he had entered your world, then something had happened. And if something had happened… He needed you now. You stood up and clambered your way back to the feast hall. No one else was there yet and you hurried past the head table where you would be expected to take your place in the evening. If everything worked out, you wouldn’t be there to hear the questions about where you had gone.

Just as you got to the centre of the table, a raven flapped down onto the back of Odin’s throne. You paused, where you stood opposite it, watching another raven circle down then hop onto the opposite end. Another raven squawked from somewhere behind you and you turned to look for it, dread creeping up your spine. When you turned back around to look at the two ravens on the throne, you gasped and jumped back.

Odin was sitting on his throne and watching you with pursed lips. His eyes were pained when they met yours and you stepped closer to the feast table, wanting to reach out to your father and soothe whatever ache was ailing him.

“Where are you going?” He asked simply, watching you clench both your hands in the skirts of your dress.

“My son, he… Father, he needs me,” your lower lip wobbled as the tears returned with your force.

“You know you cannot go to him. For his sake, and your own,” his voice was low, a tone you had not heard before. “You would be risking his life.” “It is already at risk!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air. “Something has happened, and he is aware of the world he comes from. He has always needed me but I was too much of a coward to stay with him and risk the fight. I reasoned that he needed to be hidden,” you clenched your eyes shut at the pain of the years missed, the time lost. “But now… he has entered a world that he knows nothing about. He still doesn’t know even the extent of himself. And-and… he needs his mother.” You were resolute, clenching your hands into fists and staring at your father.

Odin stayed silent. He watched you straighten your back and press your fists into the sides of your legs. He could feel the power you exuded, could see the little waves of sparkling particles that emanated from your skin, the raw magic only he was capable of seeing. He sighed, rubbing his forehead for a moment. Your own face seemed to draw downward as you saw the look on his face, a bone-deep sadness, a raw despair that added lines and wrinkles before your eyes. Then he looked up and directly into your eyes. Into your soul.

“I have been protecting you from yourself, for so long,” he sighed, and you watched him slowly peel his eyepatch off and set it on his knee. His eye socket was a gaping black hole, the red scarred flesh at the edges had healed long ago and was just threads of red blood vessels under thin skin. “You have always been my favourite child,” he told you with a soft smile, and you returned it, suddenly feeling like you had only just been a little child the day before and Odin had been leading you around the halls of Asgard. “And I only do what I do, what I have already done, out of love.” You frowned, mouth parting to speak. “You would understand, I hope, the inherent need of a parent to protect their child.”

“Father, what are you-”

You glanced back into the socket of his eye and suddenly your limbs could no longer move. Images assaulted your mind, flashing one after the other as the sound of ravens screeching and squawking and calling hit your ears. You tried to bring your hands up to cover them but you couldn’t. Every muscle felt like it was stuck in syrup and you couldn’t even lift your fingers up let alone try and swim out of it. And then the images, your little Percy’s eyes flashing in front of your eyes. Every moment you had missed, every little word he said and every movement he made.

You watched him wail in Sally’s arms as she desperately tried to soothe whatever was bothering him, walking around in the living room of a small apartment at one in the morning. You saw him carefully pull himself up onto his chubby toddler legs and begin precariously waddling his way to Sally as she clapped and teared up, reaching out for him and pressing kisses to his cheeks. You watched him on his first day of school, hands shaking and eyes tearing up as he tried to read what was on the paper and couldn’t get the letters to stay still. You saw his downcast face as the principal told Sally the school couldn’t support his needs. You saw him run up the dank stairwell of a school building, desperate to get to the roof and see the Pegasus before it left. You watched him lay in bed at night and whisper goodnight to a mother and father who weren’t there. And you watched him grow, and grow, and become a sassy teenage boy who was kind and loyal, even to a fault. You saw him smile happily when Grover found him and struck up a game of mythomagic cards. You smiled and laughed and cried without moving a single muscle.

And then you saw the minotaur chase the car. You saw Sally push Percy away in the rain and begin screaming at the monster to come for her. You saw the creature pick her up, the flash of her disappearance, and a soundless scream parted your lips slightly. But nothing else moved. Not an eyelash. A constant stream of Percy’s life played before you until it disappeared in a flash. You stared at Odin, unmoving as a tear slipped from the corner of your eye and slowly tracked down your cheek. He watched its trajectory until it dripped off your jaw. You wanted to open your mouth, to scream at him to let you go. You wanted to ask why, why did he hide everything, why would he do this? You wanted to go to your son. But he just looked at you with that never-ending pain in his eyes and whispered,

“I’m sorry.”

A flock of ravens descended on you. Pitch black wings hit you and flapped in your face until you were lost in the flurry and didn’t know if you were awake anymore…

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord, @turtleshavesoulmates, @wolfgirl294, @stanswifties, @mrsinclaire, @homanoid, @bellamysnatblida, @mooncleaver

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umbran6 · 1 month

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An Error In Divine Bureaucracy

It all starts when Odin's scheme backfires. There are disadvantages to going incognito, after all. Taking the role of 'X' (which personally speaking, sounds foul considering Twitter's still trying to fall into that brand) means that although the King of the Gods can view the workings of Hotel Valhalla, he cannot influence how his hotel is run. Sometimes, that makes the battles a bit too bloody. Sometimes, the thanes decide to overreach their authority. And there was one time they all decided to break convention and make a mock high-school Prom (to the death).

One of these slip-ups is more unconventional: Gunilla decides to patrol Long Island when rumors of a deadly conflict behind the shadows spread to Hotel Valhalla. If Odin was, well, Odin, he could've stopped it. However, Odin, acting as X, cannot keep his lone eye on his Valkyrie Captain.

Thanatos is overworked. He needs to catch up on hunting down all the souls that escaped the Greek Underworld. So, despite his best efforts to keep all the Giants and monsters dead, he can't be perfect. He can't be there when Leo is burning to ashes as he and Festus soar ever higher.

Octavian is a bit slower and more hesitant. Maybe Will's words get to the legacy's head for a few precious seconds, or maybe Nico's aura of death puts fear inside his soul before he steels his nerves. So when he fires himself at Leo and Gaea, it is far too late. Leo has enough time to finish the job.

So when Gunilla spots a boy with flames so bright they mimic a second sun riding a bronze dragon and fighting a monstrous earthly hag, Gunilla doesn't hesitate. The second Leo's body crumbles to ashes, she flies his soul to Hotel Valhalla with Festus as both his luggage and the weapon he died holding. Olympus doesn't catch on to what's happening, which is for the better.

Leo, of course, is extremely bewildered. He's heard Percy and Annabeth's story of how they went to the Underworld—the lines of dead waiting to be judged, Cerberus waiting to chew any and all trespassers into his next meal, and Charon's desire for garish Italian suits. He did not expect to be handed a rune stone, given a mini-bar key, and shuffled into a luxury suite that would make his section of the Argo II look like a shady motel room while his body suddenly looked fit AF. If it weren't for the fact that he had read up on some Norse mythology during his time in the streets, he would've been completely clueless. For fun and convenience's sake, I'll put him on Floor 19.

Like Magnus, Leo thinks he's hallucinating. His room is like a mix of Bunker Nine, Charles Beckendorf's room in the Hephaestus Cabin, and his old room in the apartment he and his mom lived in, all smashed together. For a second, he grounds himself in the familiar — playing with the inventions in his tool belt, petting Festus, and cooking himself some food. Only when he inspects Festus and finds the physician's cure fully intact does he realize something has gone horribly wrong.

Odin, of course, is aware of Leo's arrival at Hotel Valhalla. He only really understands the nature of the hotel's newest guest once Leo's heroic feat is displayed in front of everyone. The thanes, Helgi, and Valhalla's warriors cheer Leo's name. Only the Norns and Odin are silent, both realizing just how exactly things have gone FUBAR.

See, here's the thing about pantheons worldwide when they interact with their divine neighbors: They don't. We're talking about beings functioning under several different rules of reality and their own brands of magic and godly firepower that could tear apart continents and perhaps even the world if they get too sloppy. Syncretism and divine fist-fights have sprouted either differing degrees of bad blood and conflict. If a pantheon chooses to mess with another's favorites, you can be assured the rest of the divine mafia will be out to get them.

Though Leo did the feat with support, he single-handedly masterminded the death of a primordial being. In the Greek Pantheon's view, he should enjoy a peaceful life in Elysium or even join the ranks of Olympus. Leo being chosen as an einherjar is like your favorite athlete getting kidnapped and pressed into military service by another country. Though Leo is getting physical upgrades, the Olympians would see this as an attempt to subvert their sovereignty by kidnapping a hero under their noses. And Odin knows that he and the rest of the Norse gods will need as much einherjar as they can get- losing them in a possible war between pantheons would thin out their numbers.

So Odin decides to break the masquerade, albeit in a limited fashion. Using his ravens to summon Leo and Gunilla, he sheds the disguise of X and reveals why he hid himself from Hotel Valhalla and just how exactly things were screwed up. He apologizes to Leo for essentially kidnapping him, explains to Gunilla just why Leo's recruitment shouldn't have happened, and that touching another pantheon's demigods was a tremendous faux pas.

So he proposes two different possibilities - they can send Leo back to the mortal world and pretend nothing is wrong, or he can stay in Hotel Valhalla until they find a way to spin things so Olympus isn't sending out its best and brightest to do their best to merk the rest of Asgard.

And, well, Leo accepts the second choice. Mainly because he has a bit of an agenda. First, he knows he can't precisely break Calypso out of Ogygia in the state he's in. His master plan to simultaneously kill Gaea and help her relied on the fact that he was dead while Festus brought his body to Ogygia's airspace. He knows it's too much of a stretch, but perhaps the Norse pantheon will have a solution to bypass the magic surrounding Ogygia and allow him to free her.

Aside from that, Leo just wants some peace. He worked himself to the bone, building the Argo II and then maintaining it during the entire month and half-voyage. Most of it had been a thankless job with several near-death experiences. The least he could do was treat himself to a vacation despite the constant TO THE DEATH! experiences Hotel Valhalla had to offer. Heck, maybe he could make some friends here.

Thus begins Leo's stay at Hotel Valhalla. Of course, such a start involves him being impaled several times after the rest of the hotel's guests gang up on him after they make it through Festus during battle training. But he gets used to the constant bloodshed and conflict throughout the hotel, using it to sharpen himself in the ways of combat that Camp Half-Blood didn't entirely teach him. He also learns of the runes, which leads to him scheming. If he can learn how to wield the power of the runes, he can begin conjuring a magical solution to circumvent Ogygia's barriers.

So, for the months Leo is in Hotel Valhalla, he learns. He picks up knives as his primary weapon, second to the hammers; he refines his inventions and upgrades Festus. He low-key (lol) pesters Odin in his X form to teach him the runes. Odin, of course, is having none of it. He would have been willing to teach a knowledge seeker a few tricks in a different situation. But he knows that different pantheon's magics either work beautifully or have disastrous results. One need only look at the Serapis Incident.

Of course, he also makes his own friendships within Hotel Valhalla. We learn another side of Gunilla as Leo tries to get along with the Valkyrie Captain (which is expected because of all the pranks he pulls). He makes friends with TJ and Mallory while trying to get on Odin's good side by showing that he can keep up with the Valhallians (I'm punching myself for that pun).

Then, Sword of Summer comes along, and things get interesting because Mimir tells Odin about Magnus's role. He knows that Magnus will need all the help he can get, and though Blitz and Hearthstone are servants that Mimir trusts, he wants to reinforce any and all chances of winning. He can't help directly since he still wants to maintain the façade of X. However, Leo can. An einherjar demigod who has experience in fighting threats larger than him? Already saved the world once? Seems like the perfect candidate to help stop Ragnarok.

So he sends Leo in—of course, it's not without a price tag. Although Odin may be the king of the gods in Valhalla, he's still ordering a demigod from another pantheon to essentially act as his hand. One that could quickly turn tail if things went to crap or become a turncoat if someone tried to give him a strong enough bribe. Or, you know, alerting Olympus the second he steps on Midgard. Odin knows what Leo wants but not why he seeks it. So, he reluctantly offers to teach the demigod how to wield the runes if he aids Magnus Chase.

Leo is more than happy to accept the task, not only because of what he gets out of it but also because Odin is offering him a deal. He's not going about this like the prophecies that demanded attendance or the apocalypse would come about. He even gets a guaranteed reward once the mission is completed.

So Leo, with help from Gunilla, enters Midgard. He easily fits into the clique of homeless people Magnus is a part of—Leo lived on the streets for most of his life when he wasn't in the foster home system, after all. Festus is with him in his suitcase form, slyly hinting to Hearth and Blitz that he is in the know. Leo is essentially turned by Odin into his divine 007 if 007 lived on the streets as a homeless guy.

He does his best to gain Magnus's trust. He befriends him, proving himself reliable without betraying his awareness of the mystical cloaks and daggers behind the scenes. And, well, he connects with Magnus more than he expected. Maybe it's because he understands Magnus's bitterness and cynical outlook on the world - he went through the same thing when he was younger. Leo just hides it better with a smile. Part of him just wants to protect Magnus.

In the meantime, Magnus is a bit shocked that beyond Blitz and Hearth, another guy his age is willing to look out for him and be his friend. This is most likely something Magnus has never had since his mother died. The first thing that we notice is that during the beginning chapters of Sword of Summer, Magnus is alone. Hearth and Blitz have a few moments in which they show up, but Magnus himself has no one close to his age that he can connect with. This means that despite Leo being the one to do the attaching, Magnus is quite happy that they're attached to the hip.

You guys can probably guess the direction I want to take their relationship. I've read The Homeless Demigod Club. It's one of those fics that lowkey made me realize that crossover ships can be magnificent if you are willing to put in the work to make it work and show how two characters can connect. I would've added this as a spiritual successor to that fic. I will link it here so everyone can read it. (Link)

And then the promised day arrives. Annabeth Chase and her father set foot in Boston, and Leo does his best to hide from their presence while helping Magnus. He discourages Magnus from breaking into his uncle's house but is still willing to do so either way. He follows Magnus's decision because he believes that Magnus has been jerked around so many times that he deserves his own sense of agency. So when Magnus decides to follow Randolph, Leo follows Randolph even though the guy has enough red flags to rival the CCP.

Then Magnus calls forth Sumarbrander, Surt appears, and everything happens. Blitz and Hearth try to intervene and are just as quickly curbstomped like canon. Leo watches, forcing himself to stop and examine each action Surt takes. Then, when Surt entirely focuses on Magnus does he step up.

Magnus POV

"You know, Mr. Volcano, I thought you'd just go for the head. I wonder why you're wasting so much time." Leo stepped forward, suitcase in hand.

"Leo, go away. Get in there and get Hearth, but you don't need to get involved." I protested.

For a second, I was wondering just what all of my homeless friends were smoking because they were suddenly getting all these courageous ideas. Hearth had shot his arrows, Blitz had swung his watch out for ducklings sign. Now Leo - stick thin and somehow not fainting because of the heat - was apparently willing to go mano-a-mano with a guy who was taller than he was.

"Blitz was right, though. It was their mission to protect you. As for me, it's my duty." Leo dropped the suitcase.

I expected it to melt like the cars nearby and the asphalt beneath our feet. But then it grew. Parts started to jut out, panels began to unfold, and Leo's luggage grew despite the laws of physics that were screaming this shouldn't be happening. At first, it was a pure mess, but then a pair of wings sprouted out. A reptilian head somehow appeared from the chaos. Before I knew it, what was once a suitcase my friend dragged around was a bronze dragon that was as tall and wide as a semi truck.

It let out a roar into the sky that made the entire bridge vibrate. Right beneath it, Leo pulled out a pair of knives from that blasted tool belt with an ease that told me he'd done this before. Those brown eyes scanned the entire bridge, and I could feel the air near me dropping a few degrees. If anything, the area around Leo started to blur as if he was absorbing all the heat the 'Black One' radiated.

Surt's gaze turned severe as if satan had dissed one of his takes on fashion. "What are you?"

"You could say I'm a bit like Maggie here — a demigod from a slightly different brand." I was a bit too shocked at the fact that my friend had a mecha dragon to even snark at that.

Leo smiled, but the killing intent it radiated made me want to flinch. "But if you want my full name, you can have it."

Leo beckoned Surt with one of his knives. "I am Leo Valdez. You messed with my friend. Prepare to die."

End POV

The conflict nearly destroys the entire bridge. Leo and Festus's time in Hotel Valhalla has yielded fruit. Though it can be laconically described as a Jujutsu Kaisen-level gang-up, the demigod and his mechanical mount are in sync to the point they can rarely be matched. While Festus is physically stronger than Leo, Leo is faster and has more variety in his attacks, which combine to keep the King of Muspelheim off balance.

However, Leo is still a demigod. No matter the power upgrade being an einherjar and the combat experience he's earned at Hotel Valhalla, he doesn't have the physical might to permanently disable Surt, even with Festus. And although the Jotunn can't burn Leo, Leo can't overcome Surt's own fire and make it non-vice-versa. It is a stalemate until Leo cannot keep up, and Magnus can see that. He awakens Sumarbrander and intervenes, still cutting off Surt's nose. Surt still seizes the chance to kill Magnus, impaling the unknowing son of Freyr with his scimitar. It is only Leo's own reaction that prevents Surt from seizing the sword.

History repeats. Samirah chooses Magnus and brings him to Hotel Valhalla. Blitz and Hearth confer with Mimir on what to do next, while Gunilla returns Leo to the hotel so they can scheme with Odin. When Magnus is fully resurrected, Leo is the familiar face amongst a crowd of strangers, one Magnus can still rely on. Magnus's body is still recovered. Everything seems perfectly in line with canon.

Until it isn't.

Annabeth POV

I've seen my fair share of mortal panic. There was that time at the Gateway Arch during my first quest with Percy (and boy, did part of me want to go back to those days). Then there was the time Kronos and Morpheus broke the chronological sleep bubble that covered all of New York, leading to a human stampede.

So when Dad (I was still getting used to calling him that) got a call from the BPD stating that they found my uncle Randolph in a rabid panic close to ground zero of an explosion, I defied all convenient laws of mortal logic and ran toward the sirens. And the fire truck engines. And probably all emergency services that are known to man.

I will admit that part of me had a raging hatred for my uncle at the moment. It was bad enough that whatever he did had apparently led to the entire mortal side of my family imploding into what was described by my Dad as essentially a nuclear meltdown, with us being split into chunks. Then there was the fact that he somehow hid the death of the only aunt I liked and that the only cousin I trusted was now homeless for two years. And last but not least, the disgraced professor of Harvard called us at midnight saying Magnus was in danger, leading to us getting the closest red-eye flight to Boston.

When we arrived at the scene, I did my best not to pay attention to the people who were hurt. The best I could describe them was that everyone was burnt—some easily mistaken for sunburns, others who would probably need a visit to the hospital. Medics nearby were doing their best to triage the scene while cops were doing their best to get statements out of people who were clearly still shell-shocked from what their eyes may have witnessed.

I quickly spotted Randolph and marched through the chaos, vaguely hearing Dad follow me. He looked physically spared, though a bit shaken up. Which part of me noted was bizarre since, according to Dad, BPD told him a couple of weirdly dressed homeless dudes had dragged him from the epicenter of the explosion.

I had no sympathy, so I got right down to business. "What happened?"

He kept rambling to himself, and I could barely hear his hushed words - sword, black, beast, machine, giant - before I grabbed his shoulder and pinched in a way Chiron taught me would make anyone scream.

"Focus. What the T-" My mind flipped into a Tartarus flashback before I caught myself. "Hell happened?"

Thankfully, Randolph didn't scream, which meant he was either brave or still drunk on adrenaline. But something must have happened because the man's wrinkled face focused on me. "I found Magnus in my home accompanied by another boy. I was bringing him over to you when the meteor struck the bridge-"

My mind was already poking several holes in his discussion - he could've called Dad if he had already found Magnus and the bridge where the explosion took place was farther away from us. Still, I pretended to follow along and nodded.

"What happened to Magnus?" I asked, and Randolph turned pale.

"He - he fell out of the bridge. The meteor hit us head-on. I somehow got lucky, but Magnus got launched out of my car and - "

"Randolph." My father's voice turned deadly serious. "I saw your car in a twenty-minute parking lot. Already ticketed. So if I may speak so frankly, let's cut the bullshit and tell us the truth."

I winced at that. Mainly because my father rarely cursed - he had been giving off an air of wholesomeness when I stayed with him. The fact that he was willing to start cursing showed just how far things had gone wrong.

Randolph surrendered at that and started talking — about Aunt Natalie's death and its supernatural causes and how he thought Magnus was the next in line to die. How he believed Magnus was the son of a Norse god and that his birthright was apparently an all-powerful sword. Then he stated he found Magnus in the Chase mansion with the other boy and how the boy had insisted on sticking with Magnus. He told us how he urged Magnus to claim his birthright and that my cousin had succeeded before a man claiming to be Surt appeared.

Then, I learned how some of Magnus's homeless friends had tried to defend him before the other boy stepped up. "Wait. This guy claimed to be a demigod?"

Randolph nodded at that. "Yes. I didn't believe it either - the kid was so thin I could've folded him into my drawers and still have space for my clothes."

"But he still stood up. He and that blasted suitcase-monster of his. He matched Surt, if only for a while. Then Magnus got involved and he was - and he was -"

Randolph shed a few tears, and I almost had to recoil at his words. Still, I soldiered on. Death had always been part of a demigod's life, whether they were victims, witnesses, or causes. I would have time to mourn for the cousin that my family had failed.

"Can you describe what this guy looked like? He may be able to tell us about his relationship with Magnus. And what he knows about the truth." I asked, doing my best to keep the conversation going.

Randolph vibrated, clearly still shaken up. Yet he kept talking. "Of course. Give me a second. Frederick?"

My dad pulled out a few tissues from the pocket of his suit jacket, which Randolph blew into so strongly it reminded me of an elephant. Disposing the tissues into a nearby trashcan, my uncle looked at us.

"Yes. Very recognizable fellow. He disabled all of the electronic alarms I put in there. Thin, of course. Kind of looked like - what do teenagers call pretty boys these days? Never mind. He looked like one of those. Light brown skin. Curly black hair, brown eyes. Magnus probably had a crush on him, considering how he looked at the boy."

I rolled my eyes. "Clothes?"

"Yes, yes. White shirt with a bit of a collar. A green jacket that was too big for him - probably a woman's? Blue jeans. He also had a tool belt."

Suddenly, I felt like I had taken a dip in the Boston River. I had been willing to dismiss the initial description because anybody could've had a similar face and hair. I would've ruined the search if I just looked for the most likely person. But the tool belt was too much out of left field to ignore.

I seized his jacket lapels, almost tempted to lift him up. I could do it, too. Because there was no way the person Randolph was describing to me could've been in Boston, much less alive.

"What was his name?" I whispered out.

"Pardon?"

"What was his name," I repeated myself, tempted to pull out my knife.

"Oh yes. Thankfully, he was upfront about it. Who the hell quotes The Princess Bride?" Randolph gave a small laugh about it before he looked at me straight in the eyes and flipped my world upside down. "His name was Leo Valdez."

End POV.

The Sword of Summer is also flipped upside down because it is no longer just a mission to stop Fenris Wolf from being unleashed upon the nine worlds. With Annabeth finding the truth about Leo's location, nearly all the members of the Argo II crew (Frank and Hazel can't drop their posts in New Rome after all) do their best to get to Boston ASAP. They had never heard any whispers or truths about Leo's circumstances - you know, because Odin needed to keep everything in the DL. Finding out a guy that they believed was dead for six months was actually chilling with homeless dudes in Boston is a recipe to make your friends both pissed and worried at the same time.

Unfortunately, this also puts a kibosh on any plans to follow canon because Leo is now being hunted by his friends in a situation where staying incognito is vital. Of course, they can't break into Asgard or Valhalla because they don't know how to get there. Any attempts at Iris-Messaging Leo go horribly wrong because Iris needs a cross-dimensional roaming plan for her services to work in this situation. When Leo returns to Midgard to help Magnus, the gloves come off on the search.

Leo's involvement doesn't just add spice; it force-feeds the plot enough Carolina reaper peppers to set its mouth on fire and cause diarrhea that needs its own fallout zone. The crew of the Argo II chases him down when Annabeth meets Magnus, leading them to accidentally stumble across the Nine Realms when Percy tracks Magnus and Sam after their encounter with Jormungand. They each end up getting scattered across the Nine Realms - Jason into Jotunnheim, Piper into Svartalfheim, Annabeth falling into Folkvanger, while Percy gets the short end of the stick and is stuck in Midgard.

The Seven think that Magnus and Co. are holding their friend against his will. Magnus believes it's people from Leo's past who want him dead. Leo can't get a single word about the truth as things erupt too easily into conflict, and Odin's mandate for secrecy stops him from giving the full story. Regardless, he tries to keep the peace as he, Magnus, and the rest of the crew run into each other through the realms.

It all accumulates at Lyngvi. Surt arrives. Fenris Wolf tries to break free. The warriors of Floor 19, alongside the Valkyries, actually join up with Magnus and co because Gunilla has been briefed by Odin as to what exactly is going on. And the crew of the Argo II makes landfall right in the middle of the fight. They're all quick to realize that the fire giants are their opponents, and the tide of battle is turned with the sudden influx of reinforcements, no matter their origin.

Having an additional four out of seven heroes who also had a hand in saving the world? One of them, you know, having powers over the ocean in the middle of a freaking island? That's no longer a battle; that's the opposing side being Amazon-delivered to the closest morgue with same-day shipping.

When things are settled, and everyone is tired from simultaneously kicking Surt to the curb and imprisoning Fenris Wolf, things finally get cleared up. Odin reveals himself early to explain to the Seven what happened to Leo on August 1. Of course, Odin does his best to spin things in the best possible light for the Norse Pantheon and portray himself as doing his best to help Leo recover from the post-death experience. Leo is always welcome to stay at Hotel Valhalla or return to Camp Half-Blood, but he urges the rest of the Seven that they will have to keep their experience secret.

The Seven think Leo will go back to Camp Half-Blood. After all, in their eyes, Camp is the place that Leo is most familiar with. It's the place that he should belong. This is his chance to take a clean break from his stay at Hotel Valhalla and return to Camp Half-Blood. Only Odin knows differently, while everyone on the 19th Floor, alongside Magnus and Co., is wondering if Leo really is going to drop them like a flaming bag of turd.

And Leo declines. In another lifetime, in another set of circumstances, he may have joined the Seven and returned to Camp Half-Blood. But now? Well... he would admit, he has grown to love Hotel Valhalla. Though he gets bodied daily, he feels included compared to the months he spent in Bunker Nine hammering away at the Argo II. He has friends with which he can actually be friends, compared to his time being the only person in a sea of couples. And maybe he's gotten attached to Magnus, but they didn't need to know that.

He doesn't say goodbye. With enough time, they can genuinely be friends instead of the coworker dynamic he always felt he had with the rest of the Argo II crew. So, instead, he hands Piper the last invention he made before his world was once again dominated by a quest to save the world. For a second, she thinks it's a remote. And in a way, it is. His name is written on it in ancient Greek. But it only has a single button, with a single rune.

ᛗ

Mannaz (For those more knowledgeable, please excuse me if I'm wrong and correct me) is the rune of humanity as a concept—of society, friendships, individuality, and a person's willingness to help one's fellow human. The intention is clear—he's always a button press away if they ever need help.

With that, the two pantheons go their separate ways. And hopefully, things should be at peace now. Right? Right? ... Right?

But as everyone knows, they aren't. The sun hasn't reached its final verse, Ragnarok still has many triggers, and people scheme to bring everything down behind the shadows. Peace is still a long way off. And Ragnarok will eventually eradicate the world. All everyone is doing is staving off the inevitable.

But then again, isn't that just part of being a demigod?

FIN

P.S. @pjowasmy1stfandom- I've cooked. Hope you enjoy the meal.

#leo valdez #heroes of olympus #pjo #pjo hoo toa #hoo #percy jackson #rick riordan #toa #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #magnus chase #jason grace #piper mclean #norse runes #crossover #possible au #maybe?

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