Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I'm reaching out with every note I sing

And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind

Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear

Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here,”

—Apollo’s second album, Can you hear me?

—

Jeff had moved to Alaska at the same time Percy did, roughly a year after the gods had first revealed themselves. They were both lucky enough to find a job as deckhands for a salmon fishing boat, mainly because the ocean had grown upset and violent—likely literally as it was know public knowledge that the ocean was a god with feelings—and many of the workers took time off until it calmed down. 

It was within the first week at the job that Jeff slipped over the side of the boat during a sudden storm, and Percy jumped after him without any hesitation, saving his life. The storm was revealed to be part of a larger system of ocean storms happening at the same time all over the world, the largest of which was a category five hurricane named Perseus that struck the entire Atlantic coast of the United States. Percy’s ease at swimming in the stormy waters even with Jeff in his arms combined with the name of the hurricane told Jeff all he needed to know about why Percy had fled for Alaska. He never asked about it though, which Percy seemed to appreciate. Jeff bought him coffee the next day, and they had been inseparable ever since.

It wasn’t long before it came out that Percy was pregnant, and he refused to ever talk about the child’s other parent or how he—as someone who was a cisgender male—had even gotten pregnant in the first place. Jeff certainly had his suspicions about what the child’s other parent was, but once again, he decided it was none of his business. It was Alaska after all, the land beyond the gods. People moved here for a reason, and it was impolite to ask what that reason was.

He and Percy ended up rooming together for years to help afford the drastic increase in renting costs when so many people migrated to Alaska. Jeff didn’t even mind living with Percy’s kid, little Andy. He was a cute kid with bright blonde hair and big, goofy smiles. Jeff had never been married or had any kids of his own, so Andy was the closest he had to a grandson, and he liked to spoil him. He bought him a guitar for his ninth birthday and did his best to teach him how to play. The kid was a natural, playing the guitar better than Jeff ever had. Percy had a pained look in his eye every time he saw them playing together.

The years seemed to fly by, little Andy becoming not-so-little, and his talent at the guitar spreading to a more general musical talent as he learned other instruments and began writing his own music. His songs were great but sad, tinged with an unspeakable grief, and Jeff wondered how such a young man could hold such tragedy. That didn’t stop him from encouraging him to write and practice more, a direct contrast to Percy’s silence on the matter. 

“I’m going to become a musician when I get older, like Bob Dylan,” Andy said one day. 

“That’s great. I think you’ll give him a run for his money!” Jeff was excited for the boy, and he certainly believed in his musical talent. 

“Like, you want to work in the music industry, or do you just want to play at local venues?” Percy asked, fidgeting in his chair, nervous like he always was when it came to Andy's music.

Andy looked confused at Percy’s lack of excitement. “Yeah, I want to get a record deal. Go on tour. That kind of stuff.”

Percy pursed his lips, growing still, “you’ll have to leave Alaska for that.”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to stay in Alaska forever, dad.” Andy rolled his eyes, like this was obvious.

Percy just looked at Andy, a deep sadness in his eyes. “We’ll discuss this more later.” Percy got up from the table and left.

Andy looked devastated at his dad’s lack of enthusiasm, and Jeff didn’t know what to do. He had long since had his theories about both Percy’s and Andy’s parentage, but Percy had never actually confirmed anything to him, much less told Andy. His fear seemed to stop him from talking about it, and Jeff didn’t think it was his place when he didn’t know the full story. Instead, he asked Andy to play his latest song for him, and Andy lit up before tuning his guitar and starting to play. Singing a song about experiencing a deep loss Jeff was fairly sure Andy had no experience with.

Jeff listened with a smile. If the kid wanted to be a famous musician, he didn’t doubt he could do it.

Their lives were peaceful, more or less. Bills stressed them out; their pay not keeping up with the rising cost-of-living in Alaska as the government, now in the pocket of the gods, seemed to punish them for being out of the gods’ reach with high tariffs and taxes. 

Every night, Jeff watched the news and heard dazzling tales of the latest demigod stunts, monster attacks, and the most recent tropical storms. It seemed someone got smited by the gods everyday, and the ocean never seemed peaceful anymore. Jeff found himself very grateful that he worked with a probably-demigod on his boat. 

He was pretty sure he sailed with a son of Poseidon and got to listen to the music of a son of Apollo or maybe one of his muses. He was positively spoiled in the world of the renaissance of Greek gods.

Then of course, everything went to shit because nothing good ever lasts. It was his and Percy’s day off, and Andy was at rehearsal for his school’s musical. (He played the charismatic and talented male lead, of course.) Jeff went to go grab groceries, and when he came back his apartment building was on fire, four firetrucks lingering outside trying to douse the flames. Alaska was almost always dark in December with the sun never rising, but the flames were so large and bright they lit up the sky, like the sun itself had descended upon them.

Percy was nowhere to be seen.

—

It had been a long month since they lost their apartment to the fire, and Andy’s dad disappeared. Luckily the social workers let him stay with Jeff instead of a foster home because apparently his dad put in his will that he wanted Jeff to take care of him, and that he didn’t want him to leave Alaska—ever.

Jeff had given him a pitying look when they heard the will being read out. Everyone knew what that meant. His dad was running from a god.

When the gods had revealed themselves eighteen years ago, a lot of people fled to Alaska—where they thought the gods couldn’t reach them. They didn’t account for the gods having monsters in their pockets. And more recently, demigods had even started to take the quests of tracking people who escaped the gods’ wrath. Even in Alaska you would be hunted down.

Andy knew that Jeff thought someone had finally gotten to Percy, seventeen years after he first hid in Alaska. He was careful not to directly say this to Andy, but his face and the way he treated him like glass said everything. 

Andy didn’t believe that though. His dad was strong. They had been targeted by monsters for his whole life, and his dad had never had any trouble fighting them off. He was a beast with a sword. Andy just couldn’t imagine someone getting one up on him in a fight, even if he was only mortal compared to the monsters and demigods. 

Not his dad.

Besides, what could his dad have even done to piss off a god? He was the nicest person ever, always willing to help anyone who asked for it. The week before the fire, they had pulled off the side of the road on their way home from the movies to help someone with a flat tire! (Andy willingly ignored all of the lessons and news stories of the unjust cruelty of the gods. That couldn’t have happened to his dad. It just… couldn’t.)

Anytime someone tried to give their condolences, Andy waved them off, saying it was only a matter of time before his dad came back for him. He was getting sick of the worried looks people would give him in response. He wasn't stupid, and he wasn't in denial!

One night, Jeff sat him down on the old, beat-up couch they had gotten for free from Facebook Marketplace three days after the fire.

“I wanted to talk to you about your dad,” Jeff began. Andy felt himself tense up. “Percy and I were really good friends. He was like a son to me. He saved me from drowning in his first week on the job as a deckhand.” Andy knew this already. Jeff had told him this story dozens of times growing up. “I don’t want to think he’s… gone, but I think it’s time that we should both accept that.”

Andy’s hands began to shake. He put them in between his knees to hide it. “We don’t know he’s dead.” Andy said. “There’s no evidence of that. No body.”

“There usually isn’t when the gods capture someone.” A runaway , Andy could hear Jeff not saying it. The words hung in the air like a ghost. “You know as well as I do that sometimes people here just… disappear, and they leave behind loved ones who have to learn to live with that.”

“Why are you telling me this? Is it really that bad for me to hold out hope? To still think my dad will come home?” Andy felt his eyes water up. He turned to watch the muted TV to avoid looking at Jeff. It was on the news channel, and a banner at the bottom read Lord Apollo skins mortal who claimed to be a better musician than him . He reached for the remote and turned the TV off. Jeff didn’t need another news story to confirm his theory that his dad was dead.

“Of course not, Andy. I just worry that if your dad upset one of the gods… Well, I worry that they might come for you, too.”

Andy’s face shot up staring at Jeff in horror. It was nothing he himself hadn’t already thought, but to hear Jeff acknowledge it was something else. Was he going to kick him out? Had he decided the threat Andy brought to him wasn’t worth it?

Almost as if he heard Andy’s thoughts, Jeff continued, “I’m not going to get rid of you, don’t worry. I just think maybe you should start training. You know, get ready for things to go south. Learn to protect yourself.”

Andy didn’t say anything for a long moment. For whatever reason, his dad had always been very hush-hush about his capability with celestial bronze weapons, even with his best friend, but he had trained Andy. He made sure he could defend himself if he was ever alone when a monster attacked. He even sent him to school with a dagger. But if the monster, or demigod he reminded himself with disgust, was powerful enough to overpower his dad, what chance did he have?

“Yeah,” he said, “I’ll start practicing, I guess.”

“That’s all I’m asking for!” Jeff patted his knee, “You know I’ve been practicing with a crossbow myself. Percy left behind some money for you, and while I certainly don’t think you should spend it all, I think you should look into buying a celestial bronze dagger.”

I don’t need it, Andy didn’t say, my dad already gave me a ton of celestial bronze weapons and an imperial gold dagger.

That night Andy laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. His bedroom at their old, now burnt down apartment had those little glow-in-the-dark stars on them, but the new apartment just had plain white ceilings. Andy started to cry. 

He let the tears fall for what felt like forever, and once they dried, he got out of bed and pulled out his backpack. Bare essentials , he thought. He had to pack light. But what would he need? He had never even left his hometown before. In the end he packed some extra clothes, cash, granola bars, a water bottle, his anxiety meds, and his imperial gold dagger. He made sure he had his dad’s weird pen-sword in his pocket before he went into the living room to dig out a pen and a piece of paper. Jeff had been looking after him for the past month while fully believing he was going to be attacked and killed by a monster or a demigod who decided innocent human lives were worth the glory of a completed quest. The least he deserved was a note explaining where he was going. Not that Andy even really knew where he was going, but it was the thought that counts. At the last minute he grabbed a picture of him and his dad together at his first music recital.

He left the apartment building and turned around to look at it for a long moment. “Thanks for everything, Jeff,” he said, “but I’ve got to find my dad.”

Chapter Text

"Even when the cold comes crashing through,

I'm putting all my bets on you.

I hope they never understand us.

I put my heart inside your palms,

My home in your arms,

Now we know nothing matters"

—

When Jeff thought about his life, many of his younger years came back splotchy, some faded, some completely gone, like the year he lost his little brother and his resulting turn towards the bottle. 

His 49th and 50th years on earth, respectively, had a bright, piercing clarity to them. He thought he must’ve remembered every moment of those two years, locking them away in the safety of his heart. Something about the gods revealing themselves forced one to evaluate their day-to-day life in a completely new way. He comforted his sister over the phone as she sobbed about what kind of world she would have to raise her children in after seeing a monster roaming the streets. He went to his doctor appointment that had been scheduled since before the reveal. He was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis, and he was prescribed medication. He went to a baptist church service for the first time in years before immediately going to a newly constructed temple for Zeus and praying. He decided religion of any kind wasn’t really for him. 

Then he quit his job and dropped everything to get away from it all. He stopped taking his medication because he no longer had health insurance. The chronic pain came back stronger than ever, and with a wave of other people, he moved to Alaska. Unlike everyone, his past as a lobster fisherman in Portland, Maine gave him a leg up at job hunting in Alaska. A wave of fishermen were refusing to work due to the unpredictable sudden violence of the ocean, and Jeff, never one to turn down an opportunity, took the job. 

He remembered meeting the other deckhand, a twenty-one year-old who had no past experience working on boats, despite claiming to have a hobby of driving them. Jeff remembered wondering why he was even hired. 

Then, he remembered the pain of his knees being worse than ever as a storm appeared out of nowhere, not having previously been anywhere on the storm watch they used. He remembered the slippery deck, and the railings being just too short to stop him from toppling over the side.

He remembers the freezing water, the way he couldn’t feel his hands or move his legs when, like a miracle, the twenty-one year old appeared before him, his hand extended like the hand of God from The Creation of Adam on the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling . He remembered the man’s arms wrapping around his frozen body as he fell victim to the frigid temperatures. He remembered thinking I thought Alaska was out of the gods’ reach .

He woke up in the hospital, with the boating company paying his bills with hardly any fuss, not wanting a legal battle. He remembered learning that the other man hadn’t been to the hospital at all. That he not only managed to pull Jeff out of the violent waters mid-storm, but that he also came out of the frigid waters without any shock to his system or threat of hypothermia. 

The first thing he did when he left the hospital was to track the man, Percy Jackson he learned, down and buy him coffee. Sitting across from him, he reevaluated his view of the young man. He wasn’t a god, but he was close. Jeff noticed how, when asked about himself, he spoke of a childhood with his mother and an absent father. He remembered all those stories of demigods of old. 

He remembered thinking there must be demigods of new.

They talked about the cost of living crisis and the housing crisis and how apartment hunting was just terrible. He remembered how they agreed to rent a one bedroom shithole together. Jeff saying that he would take the pull-out-sofa in the living room only for Percy to deny, arguing his younger age and lack of arthritis made him the better candidate for the sofa. Jeff let him get away with it for a little bit until the symptoms started and his stomach grew. Jeff recognized the signs from the summer when he was fourteen and held his seventeen year old sister’s hair back every morning and comforted her when she cried about being too scared to tell their parents.

Percy bit out his confession—that he was pregnant—and when Jeff didn’t ask any follow up questions about how or who the father was, his shoulders fell in sharp relief. 

They emptied a drawer of Jeff’s old chest and put it on the ground with a pillow and a soft blanket in it, and when Percy confessed to feeling particularly weird about the pregnancy saying he felt like his skin wasn’t his own and like his body had been hijacked, Jeff rented two books from the library about gender dysphoria and pregnancy, respectively. He took the liberty of painting seahorses around the edge of the drawer, which Percy seemed to appreciate if the way he laughed said anything.

He remembered suspecting who the father was for the first time. They were sitting in Percy’s car, which he had apparently driven all the way from New York City to Alaska when he moved. The radio was on and they were laughing listening to Monster by Lady Gaga.

“I went to one of her concerts with my niece.” Jeff said as the song ended and the next one came on.

“Really?”

“Yes, my niece had just came out to us, and she talked about how much she loved her, so I bought her two tickets for Christmas. I thought her mom would go with her, but she invited me instead. I have to say, Lady Gaga can put on a show.”

“I’m sure she can,” Percy said before they settled into silence at a red light. The song playing now was one Jeff recognized—HOT TO GO!—a song released by Apollo just months after the gods revealed themselves. People went crazy over it. The line, “And baby, don't you like this beat? I made it, so you'd sleep with me. It's like a hundred ninety-nine degrees, when you're doing it with me, doing it with me,” just played, and Jeff started to crack a joke when he saw Percy’s face.

He looked disgusted, and with a speed Jeff had only seen when he pulled him from the icy waters, Percy reached over and turned the radio off. They sat in silence for the rest of the car ride. Jeff made sure not to bring up or listen to Apollo around Percy after that.

Jeff wasn’t there for the birth, away at work, and even if he had been home, Percy was very insistent that he didn’t get to see him in labor. He said he didn’t want anyone to see him like that, choosing to sequester himself in the bathroom instead of going to the hospital. Jeff thought it was fair, he didn’t know how the hospital would react after all, and he didn’t even like being pregnant in the first place. When he came home from work that night, he found Percy exhausted and holding a newborn—the newly named Andy.

“He’s my little lighthouse,” Percy told him. “I feel like I’m in the dark trying to navigate treacherous waters, and now that he’s here I can. My guiding light.” Percy kissed Andy’s head before passing him over to Jeff. Jeff felt the exact same way he did when he first held his niece when he was fifteen, with his sister half-asleep in the hospital bed.

He remembered worrying that he would be lonely in Alaska, with none of his remaining family choosing to move with him. He looked down at Andy’s face and around at the apartment before smiling. He didn’t have to worry about that anymore. 

—

Little did fifty year old Jeff know that with a new found family came a new host of worries. Like when your quasi-adopted grandson runs off on a suicide mission to track down his father, who was probably either dead or suffering eternal punishment from a god right this second. Sixty-six year old Jeff was so tired. He remembered growing up hearing the myth of retirement and the vacationing that was supposed to happen at sixty-five. He shook his head, not in this economy, and not in the world of the Greek gods. 

He called his boss, only vaguely explaining the situation as a family emergency before he packed and headed to the shore. Andy didn’t have a passport, so the Alaska Marine Highway System was the only way he could get to Washington, and from there, to New York City—the gods current seat of power. Their town had one of the largest ferries traveling from Alaska to Bellingham, Washington. If he wasn’t able to catch Andy on the ferry or in Bellingham, he would have to figure out where to go from there. 

Percy, wherever he was, was counting on him to keep Andy safe.

Once he reached the pier, he went to the ticket booth and pulled up a picture of Andy on his phone. Not waiting in line, instead jumping to the front with excuses of a family emergency, he flagged the lady working down. 

“Excuse me,” he said, knees aching something fierce in the frigid December air, “I need you to look in your records and see if you sold a ticket to an Andy Lucas Jackson? I’m his guardian and he’s only a minor,” Jeff made sure to emphasize the last word. While it wasn’t illegal to sell ferry tickets to minors, it was still helpful in making sure they would listen to him. The woman agreed without any further argument and looked the name up in her system.

“Andy Lucas Jackson, you said?”

“Yes, yes.” Jeff tapped his finger on the wooden stall as someone behind him complained about the wait. He gave them a dirty look.

“He left on the first ferry this morning to Bellingham. I can get you a ticket on the next ferry and contact the Bellingham workers and tell them to stop him before he leaves?” Jeff felt the relief roll through his body, his heartbeat slowing and his hands steadying. He could still catch Andy before he did something stupid.

“That’d be great,” he said, handing over the money for the ticket and getting out of line. 

“Finally,” the lady behind him muttered. 

The wait for the next ferry and the ferry ride itself seemed to last ages. Once they left Alaska waters, Jeff could almost feel a physical change in the waves. Poseidon’s wrathful storms might be able to reach Alaska but his presence couldn’t, and Jeff felt it in a way he never had before. This is Percy’s father , he thought. Something about it was both deeply humbling and incredibly terrifying. Jeff wondered if it was Poseidon that had taken Percy. 

He didn’t have the time or mental bandwidth to focus on that though. Percy was out of his hands, he knew. The best he could do for him was to find his son. So that’s what he focused on, planning what he would say to Andy once he found him. 

He stepped off the ferry and found the nearest worker, a middle-aged man wearing a nametag reading Andy . Jeff felt his eyes water up briefly when he read that, but he refocused himself before explaining the situation to the worker. 

The man turned pale. “Um, well, you see sir, we had police officers check all of the passengers on the ferry once it docked in Bellingham, and he wasn’t there, so, we, um… don’t know where he is.”

For fuck’s sake, Jeff thought, all tears now exchanged for exasperation, I’m going to have to hunt him down.

—

Andy’s self-appointed quest was already a shit show. The ferry ride itself was fine, but once the ship docked, there were police crawling all over the place, and they were holding a picture of him.

Andy was panicking. He went to hide in between the cars on the ferry. There was still a crowd in front of him, meaning none of the police officers had spotted him yet, but they were stationed at all of the exits examining everyone’s IDs. Did the god who took his dad know about him? Had they sent the police to capture him? How was he supposed to get off the boat with all the exits blocked?

Well , Andy thought to himself as he eyed the open ocean behind him, not all the exits .

Andy had never swam in the ocean before, but his dad had taught him to swim in their local gym’s swimming pool, and according to him, he was a strong swimmer. Still, the gym’s swimming pool was very different from the ocean, and he remembered all those lessons about the danger of swimming in the ocean and getting trapped in a riptide. His teacher had said they were three times faster than an Olympic swimmer. He looked back at the exits and the police officers scanning everyone that passed by. 

He just had to hope he didn’t get caught in a riptide. Without giving himself the chance to doubt his plan, he jumped over the edge and swam out into the ocean.

It turns out swimming in the ocean was easier than expected. Andy really wasn’t sure why his teacher had made such a big deal out of it. He made sure to come up for air every couple of strokes and to make sure he could still see shore. I need somewhere that’s close to a highway , he thought. 

Somehow, he knew there was a highway close to shore two miles ahead, so he dutifully swam on until he reached the beach. As he swam closer to shore, the water became notably harder to swim through. The water pushed against him fast, but he was still able to keep up and he reached the shore in no time. He barely even felt tired.

As he stepped out of the water, he could feel everyone on the beach staring at him. He grimaced, he was fully clothed and still wearing his backpack, and his hair was dripping wet, clinging to his forehead. He must’ve looked ridiculous coming out of the water. He kept his head up and marched forward towards the highway anyway, pretending he couldn’t see the people muttering and pointing at him. 

By the time he reached the highway, he was completely dry. He idly wondered if it was because of the gods’ presence here; if that made Apollo’s sun so much more powerful that it dried him off that quickly. 

He took his backpack off and noticed the zipper was slightly open. He felt himself freak out, and he checked his backpack quickly, making sure he hadn’t lost anything to the Pacific—to Poseidon. 

He didn’t immediately notice anything missing, so he let out a sigh of relief before putting his backpack on the ground and making the hitchhiker sign, thumb extended out.

It took probably five minutes for a pickup truck to pull over. A man, probably a couple years younger than Jeff, rolled down the window. “Where you going, kid?” he asked, voice gruff. He was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“South,” he responded, not having any directions more specific than that. All he knew was that he had to get out of town because the police were still probably looking for him.

“You’re in luck, I have another hitchhiker in the back already going south,” he gestured to the truck of the pickup, where there was indeed a teenage girl laying down. She looked like she was asleep.

“Thanks,” Andy said, moving to climb in beside the girl. She cracked one eye open to look him up and down. Andy took the invitation to look at her in turn. She was about his age and wearing baggy jeans and an oversized t-shirt advertising a brewery. She had a certain air about her that Andy couldn’t put words to, but it kind of reminded him of his dad. 

She was also probably the prettiest girl Andy had ever seen in real life. He felt his tongue dry. “Hi, I’m Andy,” he greeted. She just closed her eyes and turned away from him, waiting for the driver to start the car. He settled down and closed his eyes too, figuring if his company didn’t want to talk, he might as well get some sleep. He hadn’t gotten any last night, anyway. 

Once, they were on the highway and the wind was passing loudly by, he felt a poke in his side. He opened his eyes to see the girl staring at him out of the corner of her eyes. She motioned her head in the direction of the driver. “He’s a monster. You got any weapons?” She asked. 

Andy whipped around to look at the driver. He looked like a regular mortal to him. “How do you know?” 

“I’m used to monsters,” the girl replied. “Trust me, he’ll pull over soon and try to kill us, so, you got any weapons? Cause I do, but I need to know if I need to defend you too.”

“Uh, yeah, I have a, uh, dagger,” Andy said, intelligently. He honestly wasn’t sure if he was more scared of the apparently monster driver or the girl beside him who was able to sniff the monster out. It was really impressive, almost like… “wait a minute, are you a demigod?” Andy whispered the last word, which was stupid because she probably couldn’t even hear him over the wind.

Regardless, she seemed to know what he had asked. She rolled her eyes and said, “obviously. And get your dagger out. It’s best to have it on hand.” Andy dug the dagger out of his bag, and they waited in silence for what felt like hours.

Eventually, the man pulled off onto a side road in a wooded area. The girl tracked the driver with her eyes, keeping her hand on Andy’s arm as she did so. 

“My name’s Vinyet,” the girl, apparently Vinyet, said from beside him, “just in case you die.” She patted his shoulder and fiddled with her ring before grabbing her own bag and getting out of the truck and asking, “Why’d you drop us off here? Can’t you drop us off in a town? Maybe a McDonald’s?” Andy followed her, trying to keep his knife hidden.

“There’s a restaurant just a bit further in the trees. It’s locally owned.” The man said. Andy had never caught his name. He moved behind Andrew and Vinyet, placing a hand on each of their backs to guide them further in the woods. Andy wanted to use his dagger already, but Vinyet was a demigod. She knew what she was doing, so he waited for some sort of cue from her. 

Once they were further in the woods, the man’s hand vanished from Andy’s back and was replaced with something hard—a gun. In the back of his mind, Andy wondered what kind of monster had to use a gun. The rest of his mind was freaking out.

“Alright kiddos,” the driver said, “get down on the ground and let me tie you up, and no one will get hurt. And, you boy, drop your dagger.” Andy had no idea what to do. The man could shoot his gun faster than Andy could use his dagger. He got on the ground, placing the dagger in front of him just out of easy reach. He could see Vinyet get on the ground too, but she didn’t drop any weapon. In fact, it didn’t even look like she had a weapon. The man kept his gun pointed at him, apparently deciding since he had the dagger, he was the bigger threat than Vinyet, which was stupid. Vinyet was the demigod, but then again, if he knew Vinyet was a demigod, he probably wouldn’t be trying to kill her. That was a one way ticket to ending up with a wrathful god chasing you. 

The man dug through his bag and pulled out some rope, tying him up with one hand before doing the same to Vinyet. Once they were tied up, he put down his gun to dig more in his bag. Vinyet took the opportunity to strike, only she didn’t actually move to strike. Instead, behind the man grew a handful of large grapevines, reaching twice his height. 

He didn’t even see them before they struck like a python, wrapping around him in a vice like grip. One went for the throat, strangling him, and another went for the eyes, digging deep into his skull. Instead of turning to dust, like all monsters did, red dripped down his face and onto the ground. He was dead in seconds. Andy watched the whole thing in horror. 

He had always heard that demigods were dangerous, but to see it firsthand…

“Huh, I thought for sure he was a monster.” Vinyet muttered, still tied up and eyeing the blood on the man’s face. “Though, even if he was human, he was kind of still a monster, I guess.” There was silence for a long moment as Andy reached for his dagger to cut the rope around Vinyet’s hands so she could do the same for him

“So,” Andy awkwardly began once they were free, wanting to talk about something, anything other than what just happened. “I’m guessing your dad is the wine god, then?”

Vinyet nodded, keeping quiet. She was staring at the dead driver again. A part of Andy was freaking out over being both an almost-victim of murder and an accomplice in murder within minutes of each other, but a larger part of him just wanted to distract himself. 

“Why are you wearing a brewery shirt then? Shouldn’t it be a winery?” 

Vinyet huffed, like this was a question she got a lot, “my mom already named me after a vine, is that not enough? Must my whole life revolve around wine?” She threw her hands in the air, exasperated, “and besides,” she continued, “I’m not my dad. I like beer!”

“Don’t you have to be twenty-one to drink?”

“Uh, no? What, are you from Alaska? That law got dropped to honor my dad.”

“Ok,” he said, not wanting to admit that he was from Alaska, where the drinking age was still twenty-one. He looked back at the body. The vines were still crushing him, and various other plants had grown on the man, rapidly decomposing his body. “Should we, um, call the police? Are we going to get arrested?”

Vinyet eyed him strangely, like he just said something stupid. “No, my dad’s Dionysis, remember?” 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

She laughed, “demigods never get charged with anything unless it’s by the gods themselves, and they won’t care about this.” Right, Andy had heard about the demigods’ legal immunity before, but to think that it applied to murder… It was self-defense , he reminded himself. He was going to kill you and Vinyet. 

Vinyet reached into the man’s pocket and pulled out the truck’s key. “Do you want to drive or do you want me to?” Vinyet asked, waving the key in the air.

Chapter Text

“The same kind of music

Haunts her bedroom

I'm almost me again

She's almost you”

—Apollo’s third album, Ghosts and Phantoms

—

Andy jumped at the opportunity to drive like any sixteen year old boy would. He told Vinyet that he technically only had a learning permit and not a license, but she waved him off saying, “demigod, remember? Not getting tickets is part of the deal.”

Once they were back on the highway, Vinyet started messing around on her phone. Andy couldn’t quite see what she was doing while driving. He tapped his fingers on the wheel to the rhythm of a song he was writing.

“Where are you going anyway?” Vinyet eventually asked. “I know you said south before, but do you have anywhere more specific than that in mind?”

Andy’s mind blanked. Where was he going? The police weren’t chasing him anymore, so now he had to focus on finding his dad, but he didn’t even know where to start. 

He had no idea who had taken him or even where he had been taken outside of leaving Alaska. He was stupid, he knew. He should have thought of this before he left Alaska. Had he even packed enough stuff for him to survive on his own for however long this would take? And Jeff was probably so worried—

He felt himself start to hyperventilate as his thoughts spiraled. And Jeff, his dad, and his best friend from home— a goth girl named Amanda—weren’t around to calm him down. To tell him to count to ten and the five senses and all that bullshit.

“Woah!” Vinyet exclaimed, grabbing the wheel. Without Andy noticing, he had swerved into the other lane, almost hitting another car going seventy-five miles an hour. Vinyet placed her hand on Andy’s forehead, like she was taking his temperature, and his breathing turned back to normal almost immediately. He felt himself shiver at the sudden difference.

“Your medicine isn’t strong enough,” Vinyet said, pulling her hand away.

“What?”

“Your anxiety medicine? 100mg Sertraline every night? It isn’t strong enough. You should try a higher dose. Or try a different medicine altogether. Vilazodone might work for you.”

Andy briefly looked at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering how she knew what medicine he took.

“Daughter of Dionysis, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Andy said. He wasn’t sure he liked the implication that he was insane, but he decided to ignore that for right now. “I’ve never actually met a demigod before, so I guess I’m just forgetting how different your life must be.” Vinyet hummed in reply. 

Andy waited a moment to see if she would say anything else, and when he realized she wouldn’t, he reached over to turn the radio on. He fiddled briefly with the stations until he found one that wasn’t on a commercial break or a talk show. Apollo was playing, so he turned it up. 

His dad always hated when he listened to Apollo’s music, but he couldn’t help it. He was the god of music, and his albums showed it. Andy hoped he could write music that was half as good one day. 

“ My heart so poor / That I could / Wait for your hands in my pockets / My heart so broke / That I could / Beg for affection, beg for affection / And I only have eyes for you / You are the apple, you are the apple, ” Apollo sang, and Andy sang along with him. He was able to keep up pretty well, if he said so himself.

“Did you hear about the latest drama with this song?” Vinyet interrupted.

“Hmm, no, what is it?”

“So, he wrote this about one of his old lovers that he’s apparently still not over..”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so, this guy—a mortal—insulted this song on TikTok, saying that the sun god couldn’t even write a good breakup song, and that he could do better.”

“What a dumbass,” Andy said. Did he not have to take those interacting-with-the-gods safety classes Andy had to take in school? Did this guy not know the stories? Where did he think spiders came from?

“I know! So anyway, the sun god heard about it, because of course he did, and he skinned the guy on his own TikTok page’s live.”

“Fuck,” Andy said, “I think I heard about the last part, but I didn’t know the whole background.”

“Yeah, the sun god is very sensitive about insults to his music.” Vinyet laughed, like she wasn’t phased at all by the mortal being skinned alive. Like Andy’s dad wasn’t possibly in the exact same situation right now.

Apollo was still singing in the background, now at the part of the song where he sang, “ I still need your teeth round my organs ,” in what felt like an endless refrain. Andy remembered that for all Apollo seemed charismatic and talented in his concerts and interviews, he wasn’t human.

He wasn’t kind. None of the gods were, and he was at their mercy. More importantly, his dad was at their mercy.

“I like his music,” Andy said, just to change the subject. “I want to write music like his one day.”

“You’re a musician?” Vinyet asked, looking up from her phone and squinting at him as if trying to see if he was hiding a guitar somewhere on him.

“Yeah! I love playing and writing music. I was in my school’s musical, but I guess I won’t be there for it at this rate… Hopefully the understudy is good. He seemed a bit shaky in our rehearsals, but maybe he’ll shape up.”

Vinyet was still looking at him. “What?” Andy asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

“I’m just looking at you,” she said. “I feel like I’ve seen your face before.”

“Really? Where?”

Vinyet didn’t reply right away, and when she did, she said,  “There’s a shake shack up ahead, pull into the parking lot. We’ll talk while we eat.” Andy did as she directed, parking like a sixteen year old boy—that is to say badly—and they went inside to order food. 

Once they were seated, Vinyet crossed her arms and said, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a demigod?”

It was a good thing they were still waiting on their food because if Andy had been eating something he would have choked. “What? I’m not a demigod. Where’d you get that idea from?

“Have you ever looked in the mirror before?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“And you still don’t think you’re a demigod?”

“What does me looking in the mirror have to do with being a demigod?”

Vinyet unlocked her phone and pulled up Twitter. She turned her phone around and handed it to him. Andy noticed she was on a twitter page that posted about the latest Apollo appearances, and the picture on the latest Tweet was of him stepping out of the ocean in Washington. The accompanying tweet said, Lord Apollo spotted stepping out of the shore in Bellingham, WA, looking beautiful as always!

“What the fuck,” Andy said under his breath. “I don’t look that much like him.”

Vinyet took back her phone and opened safari. She looked up “the god Apollo,” and handed the phone back to him. It was on the images page, showing photo after photo of Apollo. Sure, Andy thought, they had the same blond hair and large, white teeth, but they weren’t similar enough that they would be confused for each other. Andy was nowhere near as attractive as Apollo was. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Andy denied. “I know who my dad is, and he isn’t a god.”

“Do you know who your mom is?” Vinyet asked. Andy remembered belatedly that gods didn’t have to have kids the normal way. He could practically hear his theater club yelling MPREG! at the top of their lungs like it was the funniest thing.

“No,” he said, “but that doesn’t prove it.”

“Listen,” Vinyet started to say before their order was called, “I’ll be right back.” She got up to grab the food.

Andy stared down at her phone, where Apollo’s face still looked up at him, wearing a bright smile that seemed to ask him why his dad never talked about his mom. 

Vinyet sat back down and passed Andy’s food over to him. He sipped his chocolate shake morosely. 

“I’ve met a lot of his kids at Camp Half-Blood,” Vinyet began, “You’re a musician, you look like that ,” she gestured vaguely to all of him, “and you don’t know who your other parent is? It adds up to one thing.”

Andy shook his head in denial.

Vinyet huffed and grabbed a fry, “Anyone but you would love to be a demigod, you know.” The thing was, Andy would have agreed with her before his father disappeared. Especially if he was a child of Apollo; that was like a one way ticket to signing a good music deal and making it big. But demigods got up to so much shit, he didn’t need that in his life in addition to his dad being missing.

And besides, if his other father was a literal god his dad would have told him. They don’t keep secrets in their family. He didn’t want to even think about the possibility of it.

“Why don't you ask your dad then? Settle it once and for all.”

“I can’t,” Andy muttered, “I don’t know where he is.”

Vinyet stopped eating her fries to look at him with worry, “what do you mean?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Andy confessed. “You asked earlier if I’m from Alaska. Well, I am. Born and raised. A month ago, my apartment caught on fire and my dad was gone. When people go missing in Alaska it means one thing,” Andy looked up at Vinyet. Her lips were pursed, and she was focused completely on him, food forgotten.

“He upset a god,” Vinyet said.

“Probably, and I need to find him before he gets skinned alive like that TikToker. The problem is, I don’t know what god he upset, or where he is.” He grabbed a napkin and started tearing it to pieces.

“Do you think he upset your… maybe father?” Vinyet whispered, mindful of their surroundings. “He’s pretty known for being protective and possessive of his kids. Taking you out of his reach must’ve pissed him off.”

Andy grabbed his shake. It was completely melted despite still being frozen seconds ago. He eyed Vinyet’s shake which still had an ice cream consistency. He thought back to learning in his Greek classes that Apollo and his demigod children tended to run hot. Vinyet’s voice echoed in his head, why didn’t you tell me you’re a demigod?

He remembered wondering what his dad had possibly done to piss off a god. Running off to Alaska with Apollo’s kid would qualify. But then why hadn’t he been kidnapped too? If Apollo was apparently so possessive and protective of his kids, why didn’t he take him?

“It’s better than any of my theories, I suppose.” Andy said through gritted teeth. “As much as I hate to even think about the possibility, it gives me a starting point. If it was the sun god that took him, where would he take him?”

Vinyet gave him a worried look before unwrapping her burger and taking a bite. She used the time it took to chew to contemplate her answer. “Are you really going to try to rescue your dad from the sun god if he is the one who took him?”

Andy straightened his shoulders. “I have to. He’s my dad .” 

Vinyet took another bite of her burger. “I’m not very close to my family,” she began. “When the renaissance of the gods first started, my father was let off the hook for his punishment to show a united force for the mortals or whatever, and the first thing he did was tour all of the wineries in North California. My family has owned one for generations, and apparently, he thought ours was the best. It’s hard to say if that’s because we actually had the best wine or if it’s just because he thought my mom was hot. Probably both to be honest.” She grabbed the pieces of napkin Andy had torn earlier, placing them in the empty burger bag. “Either way, he stuck around for a while, and my grandparents pushed my mom onto him. Then, I was born.” 

She made the most unenthusiastic jazz hands Andy had ever seen here, and believe him, he had seen a lot of unenthusiastic jazz hands over his years in musical theater. “My family started advertising the winery as the home of a demigod daughter of the wine god. It was annoying as hell. It was like they didn’t see me as an actual person, just a way to make money. It’s not an uncommon story for demigods.” She took a deep breath and Andy tried to give her a supportive look, but she made a point of staring off to the side instead of looking at him. “Long story short, if your dad is important enough to you that you’d piss off a god to save him, I’ll help you. Good families like that are hard to come by.” She gave him a broken smile. 

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, leaning over the table, “we killed someone together. That means we’re friends now.” 

Andy gave her his brightest smile. 

She grimaced, “definitely cabin seven,” she said, and Andy’s smile dropped.

“If he took my dad, where would he have taken him?” 

“New Delos, it’s where his mansion is. If he’s not on Olympus, touring, or seducing some random mortal, he’s in New Delos.”

“Where is that?” 

Vinyet mouthed Alaska to herself before shaking her head and saying, “It’s in South Carolina. Before the gods revealed themselves, it was called Hilton Head Island.” Vinyet finished off her burger. “Are you going to eat those?” She gestured towards his fries. Andy pushed them towards her. She was going to help find his dad, even if it meant going against one of the Olympians. The least he could do for her was let her have his fries.

“How are we going to get there?”

Vinyet leaned back against the booth, a thoughtful expression on her face as she tapped her fingers on her arms. Andy started tearing another napkin. “Getting to South Carolina is the easy part. Getting into New Delos is harder. Normally, you have to apply for permission to visit the island, but fortunately for us, his children have an open invitation, and the border will let you in without any problem.”

“And what about you?”

“Any other time of the year, you would have to declare any visitors that arrive with you. It’s the sun god’s way of making sure none of his kids bring their mortal parents—he’s kind of the one-night stand type. He doesn’t like to see the mortal parents after his kids are born. Luckily for us, the annual trip where all of his children visit him at once is next week, and he gives his kids a free plus one.” She gestured to herself.

“Won’t he notice that he’s never met me before?”

Vinyet waved him off, “nah, he’s got a ton of kids. Camp recently had to upgrade his cabin to an apartment building.”

Yikes , Andy thought to himself. No wonder his dad fled to Alaska.

“Ok, so we just need to focus on getting to South Carolina by next week.” 

Vinyet grabbed another fry and pointed it at him, “sounds like a plan.” 

This time, Andy couldn’t stop his grin even if he tried.

—

Soon enough they were back on the highway, with Vinyet driving this time. Andy borrowed her phone to both play music (he shied away from Apollo’s music this time, preferring other artists) and look up what it meant to be a demigod on reddit. Reddit always had answers.

There weren’t actually that many reddit pages about being a demigod, but there were a lot on dating the gods, which was, admittedly, pretty weird. Andy couldn’t help but briefly picture a god finding their mortal lover’s reddit history. The horror.

There seemed to be a pretty active subreddit about dating Apollo, and after a brief moment of hesitation, he decided to scroll through it—just to see what his dad might’ve gotten himself into. There were a lot of active posts about Apollo ghosting people, leaving them pregnant and alone. The comments on these posts were full of bitterness, saying the same thing happened to them and asking if the redditor really thought they would be the exception.

r/LoversOfApollo

u/Demigod_mother_45:

So, I went on a couple of dates with Apollo, and I thought it was going pretty well. But once he sensed I was pregnant, he cut all contact and told me to send the kid to camp if I couldn’t take care of them? Is this normal? Is there any way to get in contact with him again? 

u/Dreamingadream69:

No. (1289 upvotes)

u/Apollo-is-h0t:

Yeah, unfortunately dreamingadream is right, once he cuts contact it’s over and generally best to start focusing on your baby. Congrats by the way! Having a demigod child of Apollo is like having your own personal ray of sunlight! I love my son so much! (200 upvotes)

u/Roman_Empress123:

Did you really think he would stay in contact with you (-10 upvotes)

    —>  u/Apollo-is-h0t:

    There’s no need to be mean, we all went through it. (35 upvotes)

He couldn’t believe his dad would ever date someone like that. He deserved so much better than being ghosted and left with a baby—with Andy . (Andy was viewing his childhood in a new light now. Everytime his dad left the room while he played guitar… Was he seeing the ghost of Apollo instead of Andy?)

There were also a few posts asking who Apollo’s heartbroken music was about, and no one seemed to have an answer for it, despite multiple people claiming it was about them. No one actually believed them. 

u/Roman_Empress123:

Guys I’m pretty sure Apollo’s latest song You are the Apple is about me! See, we went on a flight together and… (-200 upvotes)

u/The.Gods.are.Gay:

Nice try, we all know Apollo’s music isn’t about anyone who lurks on this subreddit. (700 upvotes)

It only got more depressing after that, so Andy left the subreddit.

He thought of maybe having half siblings out there, and he wondered what they thought about their father. He looked over at Vinyet. Hadn’t she mentioned earlier that she knew a ton of children of Apollo?

“So,” he said, dragging out the word, “you said you knew a lot of children of the sun god?”

Vinyet nodded in affirmation.

“What are they like?”

She glanced over at him before turning her eyes back to the road. “They’re honestly pretty annoying.” At least she’s honest , Andy thought to himself. “Apollo is really a fairly good parent for a god, but he has so many kids, they’re always fighting each other for his attention. All they ever want is a quest,” she huffed. “I hate quests. And I hate the demigods who agree to go on quests.”

There seemed to be a lot to unpack in that statement, but Andy didn’t really feel like going into it when he already had one major revelation today. “Oh,” Andy said instead. He hoped Vinyet didn’t find him annoying. 

“You seem pretty chill, though,” she said, as if reading his mind. Or maybe she just sensed his anxiety again.

Suddenly, someone jumped out in front of their car. Vinyet swerved and hit the brakes as hard as she could. Andy was thrown forward, the seatbelt's grip bruising tight against his chest.

Without giving him a moment to breathe, Vinyet parked the car and got out. “Holy shit!” She yelled. “Aspen, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” the boy, apparently Aspen, responded. Andy got out of the car to approach them. Once he got closer, he realized Aspen was a satyr, and that he wasn’t wearing pants. He stared at his hooves in astonishment. Andy had never met a satyr before. 

Aspen seemed to notice him staring and said, “What are you looking at?” His voice was full of venom. Andy had always thought satyrs were kind of passive, but apparently not this one.

“Aspen,” Vinyet chastised, “This is Andy. He’s from Alaska.” She emphasized the last word, and a look of understanding passed Aspen’s face. 

“Oh, you poor thing.” He looked Andy up and down before sniffing, his nose shaking minutely in Andy’s direction, “Are you a demigod?” he asked.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Andy looked at Vinyet for support. 

“Probably,” Vinyet elaborated, “he only knows one of his parents and looks like that.” She pointed at Andy’s face, and Andy fought the urge to look away as he felt himself blush. Normally, he liked attention—hello? Musical theater nerd?—but not right now. He felt raw from the day’s earlier revelations. 

“You’re a bit of a funky age for a child of the sun god. How old are you? Sixteen, seventeen? I thought he was still dating the son of Poseidon then.”

“Who are you talking about?”

Aspen gave him a weird look. “The son of Poseidon? Do you not know who he is? Wait, nevermind don’t answer that. Raised in Alaska, unaware of your heritage, of course you don’t know who he is. He didn’t want the mortals to know about him, so the gods honored his wish. He’s really popular in demigod circles though. You’ll probably hear all about him at camp, so I won’t spoil it for you.”

“Andy and I aren’t going to camp,” Vinyet said, her voice was higher than normal. 

“Oh,” Aspen said, looking down at the ground. He shuffled his hooves in anxiety. “Okay.” 

Vinyet looked at Andy before turning back around to face Aspen again. “What are you doing here? Why did you jump in front of our car? I could’ve killed you!”

“But you didn’t,” Aspen gave a lopsided smile to Vinyet. There was a dreamy look in his eyes, and Andy wondered if he had a crush on Vinyet. “And I was looking for you.”

Vinyet grit her teeth in a snarl. “My dad sent you, didn’t he?”

“No, no! Um, well, yes actually. But I would’ve looked for you anyway! You left in such a hurry without telling anyone where you were going. Your dad called your mom, but she said you hadn’t been home. We were all really worried about you.” Aspen gave Vinyet the most pathetic look Andy had ever seen. Despite being a Satyr, his eyes looked more like a puppy dog’s eyes.

“Let me guess,” Vinyet said, “now that you found me, you’re going to drag me right back to my dad, just like you did a year ago.” Andy wanted to ask what happened a year ago, but he figured now wasn’t the time. Vinyet looked even more pissed than she had when she was tied up by the mortal driver. Andy hadn’t known it was possible for a teenager to convey that much rage in a single look.

Aspen kicked his cloven hoof in the dirt. “Not if you don’t want to,” he said. “And I am really sorry about what happened.”

Vinyet studied Aspen’s face, looking for a lie. Eventually, she must’ve found what she was looking for, and she said, “Andy and I are going to Olympus to try and save his mortal dad.” Andy was about to correct her, when she shot him a look, telling him to shut up. 

Oh , Andy thought, she’s testing Aspen . 

Andy felt incredibly grateful that he ended up in the same truck as Vinyet. He didn’t know what he would be doing right now without her. 

“I’ll help!” Aspen exclaimed. Andy thought his earlier comparison of Aspen to a puppy was, once again, accurate. Then again, he thought, maybe goats were like that. He had never actually met a goat in real life before.

Vinyet grabbed Aspen’s hand and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, “great,” she said, “let’s get back on the highway then.” She walked back to the truck with Aspen trailing behind her. “There’s only two seats in the front. Aspen, would you mind riding in the cargo bed?” Aspen agreed without a second thought. He seemed very eager to please the daughter of Dionysis. 

Andy and Vinyet piled in the front, Vinyet once again on the driver’s side. Once the car was started and Andy knew Aspen couldn’t hear them, Vinyet said, “Play some rock music, would you? I’m in a bit of an angry mood now.”

Andy complied, pulling up a rock playlist on Vinyet’s Spotify. “Is it because of him?” Andy asked.

“If you’re talking about Aspen, they use they/them pronouns.” Vinyet corrected. “But yes, it’s because of Aspen.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to misgender them.” 

“It’s fine. Just don’t do it again, and don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Of course,” Andy agreed. “Why did seeing them make you upset?”

Vinyet let out a loud sigh. “We used to date,” she began. “But satyrs follow my father, you know?”

Andy thought that was a rhetorical question, but she looked at him as if to ask if he did know that. He wondered what all of these demigods thought of Alaska. Did they think he wasn’t taught anything about the gods? Regardless, he nodded so Vinyet would continue. 

“Well, my dad didn’t like us dating, so he told Aspen to break up with me, and they did.” Vinyet knuckles tightened on the wheel, turning white. “So, I ran away from camp. Aspen followed me—on my dad’s orders, I would later learn. They talked me into coming back to camp. Said they missed me, and that we could date again without my dad knowing. It was bullshit, of course. They would never go against my father like that.”

“So you’re giving them a second chance now?” Andy asked. “If they don’t tell your dad we’re going to Olympus, you’ll trust them again, but if they do…”

“Then Aspen better hope that you inherited some healing abilities from your father because they’re going to need it.”

—

They made it all the way to Montana before they had to stop for gas—and snacks their rumbling stomachs reminded them. They pulled off of I-90 into the first gas station they saw. 

The gas station was on the edge of a small town, and they were the only ones outside—it looked almost looked abandoned in the eerie twilight of the night. Vinyet went to fill the car with Aspen following her lead, while Andy went towards the building to buy some water and snacks for the group. 

Despite the “we’re open!” sign, the door was locked. Andy put his hands on the glass and peered into the gas station. Half the lights were off, and it didn’t look like anyone was in there. He went to walk back to the car, where Aspen was peering longingly at Vinyet, while Vinyet appeared to be doing her best to ignore them. 

“Gas station is closed,” Andy said. “We’ll have to find somewhere else to get supplies.”

Vinyet hummed, taking the pump out of the car and placing it back in the machine. “It’s getting late, and we don’t have enough money for a motel. Maybe we should find a dollar tree or a Walmart and buy some blankets. They’ll have water and snacks, too. Then we can find somewhere to park for the night and rest.”

Aspen perked up, “I can smell a Cracker Barrel nearby. They let people park overnight.” They looked love sick at the idea of a Cracker Barrel, and Andy couldn’t blame them. Pancakes did sound really good.

Before they could put their new plan in action, they heard a loud thump-thump-thump , like heavy footsteps, and a horrified bleat rang through the darkness. Andy looked to Aspen, sure the sound had come from them, but they just looked back at Andy, speechless.

“That wasn’t me,” they whispered.

“Guys,” Vinyet said, voice shaking as she took a slow step towards the treeline and grabbed her ring from her hand.

There, through the foliage, Andy could see what had scared Vinyet. There was a large animal standing on its hind legs, covered in thick, brown fur, making it partially camouflage with the trees, but it was easy to see in the light of the gas station because its entire front half was covered in bright red blood. It held a mangled deer in its large hands as it bit into its meaty side, spilling even more blood down its front.

This, Andy knew, was no normal animal. It was a monster.

More specifically, it was the Minotaur. A monster born from godly rage—from broken promises.

He inhaled sharply in horror, and it seemed like everything was holding its breath. The only sounds were the ripping of flesh and the buzz of the gas station lights. 

Aspen backed swiftly into the truck, hitting their head on the window, and something about the car must’ve been faulty because the small bump managed to set off the car alarm. The loud screeching pierced through the night, and the monster looked up from its dinner to its dessert—them.

Andy could see its pupils dilate as it looked at the three of them standing in the light of the gas station. It dropped the remains of the deer onto the ground as it straightened up and stepped towards them. Vinyet must’ve done something with her ring because she was now holding a long sword. The Minotaur kicked its foot back, like a bull getting ready to charge, but Vinyet didn’t give it the time to make the first move, instead rushing towards it, sword at the ready. 

Taking her cue, Andy reached into his backpack to find his dad’s weird pen-sword, clicking it open. The sword felt clunky in his hands, like it knew he wasn’t his dad and was upset about it, but Andy paid it no mind as he stood back and looked for the best place to enter the fight. At his side, Aspen picked up a loose brick.

Vinyet slashed viciously at the beast, barely missing its furry chest, and it roared its anger. She slashed again, and this time, she managed to graze its arm. 

In response, it flung out its injured arm with so much strength and power, it hit Vinyet and pushed her into a nearby tree like a ragdoll. She fell to the ground, dropping her sword.

The Minotaur looked like it was going to charge at her, and Andy knew he couldn’t allow that. With Vinyet no longer in their range, Aspen threw the brick at the Minotaur, which it batted aside quickly, but it managed to distract the bull-man just long enough for Andy to do a charge of his own, sword extended with a bravery he didn’t know he had. 

At the last moment, the Minotaur used its own horns to block his attack, and Andy had to jump back to avoid being impaled. The Minotaur extended its hands to grab him and Andy swiped at them, forcing it to take a step back or risk losing a limb. 

Aspen threw another brick, though this one missed by a good two feet. It charged at Andy, and he jumped aside at the last moment, barely making it out of the beast’s way.

Still on the ground, Vinyet yelled at him, “You can sing, can’t you? So sing, force it to sleep!”

The adrenaline pumping through his veins allowed him to understand what Vinyet was saying. Andy was apparently a son of Apollo, who had inherited his musical gifts, and it was well publicized that many musical talented children of Apollo could use their singing in a fight—forcing their opponents back, making them weep with joy, cry in sorrow, or even fall asleep after a particularly strong lullaby. 

Andy had never done it before, but it was obvious his sword skills weren’t up to par with the Minotaur.  His breathing was ragged from the fight, and his arms felt weak—his hands shaking, so he decided to give it a shot. I need to force it back—force it to sleep, something, anything, he thought to himself. He took a large breath and reached deep into some part of him he didn’t know he had and started to sing.

Only, it wasn’t a song. Instead the loudest, deepest sound Andy had ever heard came out of his mouth. It was a blaring ring, the vibrations cutting sharply through the night. In the back of his mind, Andy knew the car alarm was still going off, but the sound coming from his mouth drowned it out completely.

The Minotaur went down almost immediately.

Andy laughed in glee. He didn’t know how that had worked, but it did. He looked over at Vinyet and Aspen ready to revel in the feeling of victory, and he felt his smile drop. They, like the Minotaur, were on the ground, hands clutched over their ears. He saw Vinyet pull one of her hands away from her ear and pull it towards her face to look at it. In the artificial light, he could just make out the blood and pus coating her palm. Horror bubbled up in his chest.

The Minotaur was trying to get up, but once it managed to get its feet under it, it just fell to the ground again, unable to stand. Andy forced himself to look away from Vinyet and Aspen. With his dad’s sword in hand, he walked slowly towards the Minotaur and slashed its head clean off. It vanished in an explosion of gold.

Not looking back, Andy ran over towards Vinyet and Aspen and helped them get up. They were both dizzy and unable to walk without assistance. 

Suddenly, the door to the gas station opened and a man in his late twenties stepped out. “You killed it!” He exclaimed, hands raised to his head in a gesture Andy couldn’t help but compare to Vinyet and Aspen clutching their ears in pain.

Vinyet and Aspen made no sign they had heard the man. That wasn’t good. Andy got them both settled in the bed of the truck, and his worry only increased when he realized they both seemed really out of it. 

The gas station employee approached him. “That was crazy,” he began, “I mean, I couldn’t see the whole fight or anything, but from what I did see! And what I heard! And your swords! You and the girl! You’re demigods aren’t you?”

Andy could practically see stars in the man’s eyes. “Um, she is. I might be?” 

Luckily, the man seemed to pay no attention to how awkward Andy was being. “Wow,” he drawled in what Andy could only guess was a rural Montana accent, “We never get any demigods out here. Course, we never usually get any monsters either so maybe it’s a fair trade.” He huffed a small laugh. Andy, worried for his friends, couldn't bring himself to smile at the man.

“Um, do you know where the nearest clinic is? My friends got hurt in the fight.” I hurt my friends in the fight , Andy didn’t say, but he certainly thought it. His stomach felt heavy with guilt. The idea of late night snacks, which was half the reason they had even stopped at this gas station, was far from his mind now.

The man blinked slowly at him. “Do you not have any ambrosia and nectar? I heard demigods always carry that around.”

“Oh, uh,” Andy had completely forgotten that was a thing, and he went to dig through Vinyet’s bag, hoping she wouldn’t mind the invasion of privacy. He came away with what looked like a lemon bar, but given the context clues, he really hoped was ambrosia. He pulled it out triumphantly and handed it to Vinyet. She extended her hand to grab it and missed by a good couple of inches, so he grabbed her hand and placed the unwrapped lemon bar in it.

Turning his attention back to the gas station employee, who was watching the whole scene like he just saw his favorite celebrity, he asked, “My other friend isn’t a demigod. We’ll still have to find a clinic or ER or something. Do you know where the closest one is?”

The man gave them directions before reaching out and shaking Andy’s hand very enthusiastically before saying, “Tell your father thanks for everything he does!” 

Andy didn’t like the fact that apparently strangers could guess who his father was. On the drive over to the clinic, he thought about his golden blond hair and his bright smile. He thought about how every child of Apollo he saw on TV or Instagram shared those same features. 

He thought about how all of those children of Apollo could’ve healed his friends.

He thought about how he couldn't.

Chapter Text

“Don't touch the sleeping pills, they mess with my head

Dredging of great white sharks, swimming in the bed

And here comes a killer whale, to sing me to sleep

Thrashing the covers off, has me by its teeth” 

—Apollo’s third album, Ghosts and Phantoms

—

It was as Jeff sat in the local library looking at flights that it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t book the first flight to New York. After all, Andy had a phobia of planes and a lack of funding, meaning he would likely try to drive to Olympus. He needed someone to track him down so he could intercept before Andy did something stupid.

And he knew just who could do it.

He pulled his phone out and went into his contacts, scrolling past various coworkers and members of his family, including both his sisters, until he got to his oldest niece. Clicking her name, he waited for her to answer while already booking his flight to Boston.

—-

“Uncle Jeff,” a middle aged woman with bright green hair greets him as he exits the airport, adrenaline finally crashing as he puts his luggage in her car and collapses in the front seat. He had gotten in much later than expected, flights delayed due to insider info from Olympus that Zeus was upset about something. 

Even the busy Boston streets were dead this late at night, only their own headlights and a light dust of snow to be seen on the roads.

“Maddie,” he mustered a smile to send her way. He hadn’t smiled much recently. “Thank you for picking me up from the airport. I know this is all very last minute.”

“Hey, we’re a family.” She smiled back at him like it was the easiest thing in the world. “I know if I ever piss off a god, you’d be willing to let me crash in your place in Alaska for a while.”

Jeff thought of his apartment on fire, his best friend of almost two decades missing. “Don’t even joke about that.”

He had to give her credit, even without explaining the whole situation Maddie seemed to know what he meant and quieted down. Maddie, the baby he had first held as a fourteen year old had grown into a beautiful young woman, an acolyte of Hecate. She lived full time in Salem educating visitors about her patron goddess and magic more generally. She had even worked on researching the mist years ago at the local university when people still wondered why it disappeared so abruptly and wanted to know if it would come back.

Long story short, she was his best bet for tracking Andy down, as much as he would like for this visit to just be family catching up. 

They drove out of Boston into the quiet, historic suburb of Salem, Apollo’s melodic voice turned low on the radio, crying about his broken heart. Jeff was thankful Andy hadn’t run away in October. He didn’t think he could handle the Halloween crowd.

Though still, Maddie talked about how Salem was expecting to get more crowded as people prepared for the Winter Solstice. Salem, a relatively small town, had something not many cities could claim: a patron goddess. This meant it, like New York, New Rome, Los Angeles, Dionysia, Atlanta, and New Delos—all having their own godly presence—grew exponentially in popularity this time of year for both pilgrims and tourists.

Jeff needed to find Andy before that mess arrived. 

Maddie turned the car into an alleyway behind her townhome, and Jeff was struck by the realization that his little niece was a homeowner. Even in his sixties, being a homeowner had never become a reality for Jeff; not with the housing crisis, which was leagues worse in Alaska than the rest of the United States. 

The gods must pay their employees well, he mused.

Maddie parked the car and had Jeff’s luggage out of the trunk before Jeff even fully got out of the passenger seat. 

“I could’ve gotten that,” he said, grabbing the side of the door to pull himself out.

“You walk just like my mom. She’s got knee troubles. I figured you do, too. Don’t want to make you lift extra weight if you don’t have to,” Maddie walked slowly up to the back door, making sure to keep pace with Jeff. He had grown so used to Andy just running ahead like the hyperactive teenager he was. It was a strange change, but he appreciated it.

It was already late by the time they got settled inside, so Jeff decided to cut his losses and go to bed. 

Hopefully, Andy won't do anything stupid tonight.

—

Jeff rose with the sun, which was about two hours later than he normally got up on fishing days, needing to be on the boat by the time the sun came up. Despite the extra sleep, he still felt exhausted, stress and worry falling heavy on his shoulders. Maddie must’ve been tired too, the area under her eyes dark as she shuffled around to make coffee for the two of them. 

She passed over a mug with a cartoon cat on it, along with sugar and cream. Jeff always drank his coffee black. That was the price of living in Alaska. Even now, with cellphones and computers, you were so separated from your loved ones. 

Maddie loaded her coffee with cream, but no sugar. She took a long sip before finally breaking the silence and asking, “So you want me to find your friend? How’d he get caught up in a mess with the gods, anyway?”

Jeff sighed. He hadn’t told Maddie the whole story, or really, any of the story. 

“He’s just a kid, Maddie.” Jeff’s voice was gruff, a leftover effect from when he used to smoke a pack of cigarettes a day. He ignored how it sounded like he was about to cry. “He’s not really my friend, more so my grandson. I’ve raised him with his father, my friend, since he was little.”

Maddie held her coffee mug with both hands, looking concerned. No one liked it when innocent kids got involved in the gods' messes, but it undeniably happened. Sometimes, the gods would even punish kids for their parents' mistake, like Jeff feared Andy would be if he managed to track down who took his dad. 

He couldn’t deal with a Niobe situation. Jeff couldn’t let Andy become the next in a long line of tragedies. 

“I don’t know what his father got mixed into, but I think he’s the one who pissed off a god.” Jeff paused, he had never voiced this suspicion out loud before, but if Maddie was going to help, she needed to know what she was getting into. It was only fair. “I think he’s a demigod.”

“Andy or his father?”

Jeff grimaced. “Both.”

“Jesus Christ,” Maddie said. Nowadays most people used Greek curses, but having been raised in a Christian family, Jeff always appreciated curses that used the Lord’s name in vain. Felt more emotional to him. “Amen,” he said emphatically, but Maddie didn’t even smile, too busy worrying over what her old uncle had gotten into, probably. 

“Who?” She asked.

Jeff finished his coffee, gladly taking the excuse to put off answering his niece’s question. It was considered very poor taste for mortals to speculate on demigods’ parentage. That was a privilege only those in the divine world had.

“I don’t know,” he finally settled on. It was the truth after all. He had his suspicions, but that was all they were. “But his father definitely has the ocean in his veins.” It was a safe enough answer, not saying any god specifically. Not invoking either names or titles.

Maddie still hadn’t finished her coffee, but she asked Jeff if he was hungry, anyway. Despite saying no, she started bustling around the kitchen to fry some eggs.

“So what kind of help are you asking for?”

“I just want some help tracking the kid down. I don’t think he has managed to get into any trouble or anything, he can’t fly, so he definitely isn’t anywhere close to Olympus yet. Plenty of time to intercept him and calm him down. Make him see reason.”

Maddie nodded, and Jeff offered to finish cooking for her as she changed direction to gather supplies from her home office for a tracking spell. 

“Do you have anything of his?” 

Jeff patted his pocket before pulling out Andy’s most recent school picture. Before this whole ordeal it had been under a rainbow trout magnet on the fridge—Percy’s idea. Andy hated it, saying he looked terrible in that photo. “Will this work?”

“It’s perfect!”

Maddie stroked the picture for a moment. “Cute kid, he certainly looks like a demigod.” 

He looks like a certain Olympian. The unsaid words hung heavy in the air. Jeff could barely breathe, waiting to see if Maddie would say it out loud.

Then the moment was over, and Maddie directed Jeff to the living room, where she had the stuff laid out.

“I was going to do it in my home office,” Maddie began, “but the map was too big for my desk!”

And the map was huge. It featured the entirety of the continental US, with squares on the side of the map featuring Alaska and Hawaii. Jeff knew from experience the square photo of Alaska was not to scale with the rest of the US. 

Maddie had placed the map on the floor, and it took up all the space from the TV to the couch. 

There were various gems, figurines, and crystals scattered about the room that Jeff could never even begin to name. Except for one. There, in the corner of the TV stand, right by a cat tree housing Maddie’s mean orange cat, was a three foot concrete statue of Hecate, which seemed abnormally large for the space. Jeff didn’t say anything about it though. He knew how serious Maddie was about Hecate, and he knew Hecate had in turn provided Maddie with the magic she was going to use to find Andy.

In one hand, Maddie held a long pendulum, and in the other, she held Andy’s picture. She muttered something under her breath as the pendulum swung around the map in large circles before its pattern abruptly changed, forming a slow path from Washington through Idaho, Montana, and South Dakota before settling in Nebraska, a little north of Omaha. 

He huffed; the kid got further than he thought.

Maddie grabbed an iPad from on top of the sofa and googled a map of Nebraska. She zoomed in on the area surrounding Omaha before doing her pendulum spell again. 

“It looks like he’s in Decatur, Nebraska.”

Jeff had never even heard of the town before. “Can you tell if he’s going to stay there?”

Maddie shook her head. “No, people can change their minds too quickly. Maybe someone more powerful than me, a child of Hecate or someone similar could, but this is about as far as I can help you with that. I’m sorry I can’t give you a more definitive answer. You can—”

Whatever Maddie was about to say was cut off by an aggressive knocking at the door. 

“Were you expecting someone?”

“No.”

Maddie walked slowly to the door. Jeff’s heart was pounding hard and fast in his chest. It felt silly to worry about a knock at the door, but what if Andy had already gotten into trouble? And now the gods were banging on his niece’s door because of her spell? 

Had Apollo— 

Jeff cut that thought before it could even start. Apollo, or whoever Andys other parent was , hadn’t cared about him the whole time he was in Alaska. He wouldn’t care now either. Certainly not before even a week had passed with Andy in his reach. Gods didn’t keep that close of an eye on their children.

Maddie turned around after looking through the peephole and mouthed for Jeff to turn the TV on and clear up the map. He quickly folded it up, turned the TV on the news channel, and sat on the sofa, lounging like he had been there all morning.

“Hello?” He heard Maddie ask.

“Maddie Sullivan? I’m Annabeth Grace,” the stranger at the door began. 

It was all Jeff could do to turn around slowly, calmly. Annabeth Grace? He knew that name. Possibly everyone in the United States, if not the whole world, knows that name. Annabeth Grace née Chase, diplomat of Olympus, demigod daughter of Athena.

Jeff had read her memoir, Andy had read her memoir, and Percy had read her memoir. Hell, Percy even owned a copy of her book, which, before the fire, had sat in a place of honor on top of his nightstand. 

A powerful demigod, a famous war veteran, a known diplomat, what was she doing here?

Maddie seemed to think similarly, “How can I help you?”

“I’m here regarding some of your past research from your time at Salem State University. You focused on the mist, correct?”

Maddie gave a stiff nod. From the couch, Jeff slowly turned back to the TV, glad to see the turn the conversation had taken. It didn’t seem like she was here because of Andy, meaning he hadn’t dragged his niece into trouble. His worry evaporated. 

He kept the TV turned down anyway, though, just in case.

The banner at the bottom of the news station read “UNNAMED DEMIGODS SLAY MINOTAUR IN SMALL MONTANA TOWN.”

Maddie had the subtitles on the TV turned on, and Jeff was just able to catch, “the teens left before they could claim any glory, driving East along I-90.” 

At first, Jeff thought nothing of it. It was strange, sure. Usually demigods loved to claim fame and glory from killing monsters, especially famous ones like the Minotaur, but it was nothing that he really cared about.

Then a horrible thought occurred to him, and he unfolded the map. There, right along where the pendulum had told them Andy went, was the I-90 E going through Montana. 

He’s so struck with mounting horror, Jeff barely even hears Diplomat Grace asking if Maddie has time to speak in a more private location. All he knows is he looks around, and the demigod celebrity/politician/veteran and his niece are both gone from the doorway, Maddie’s office door closed. 

Jeff is left alone in the living room with the feeling that he is in way over his head.

—

Annabeth’s life could best be characterized as a series of incredibly stressful events one after another. Sometimes, the stressful events even overlapped. From the Titan War to the Giants to her best friend cutting—almost—all contact and her being thrown into a diplomatic position to ease the terror of the masses at the revelation of the Greek gods being real. 

It felt like she never really got a break, which is why she probably should’ve expected the letter from Percy. It came via snail mail, through the secondary delivery service, the one not controlled by Hermes. Just a small postcard with a drawing of two bears and a “Greetings from Alaska!” on the front. It was postmarked a little over a month ago.

It was the back that was much more interesting of course, as it was the second note Percy had ever sent her since he disappeared to Alaska. Unlike the first note, which was full of apologies but no explanations, this was hurried, as if he was on a time crunch.

Hey Wise Girl, the postcard said in Percy’s scratchy handwriting. Guess who did something stupid. I can’t write it down for reasons I can’t explain right now, but I need you to do me a huge favor. Find Maddie Sullivan, an acolyte of Hecate who lives in Salem, MA. Ask about her research. I know her uncle. 

And watch out for lighthouses.

I think of you all the time. Congratulations on your marriage, I always thought you two would be a good match.

With love,

Seaweed Brain

By the time Annabeth finished reading it, there were tears in her eyes. The letter had reminded her that Percy had been following her public life, but she still didn’t know anything about what he had been up to.

What was even worse was her marriage to Jason was a bit of a sore point. She had cried the night before her wedding, wishing her best friend had been there to be her best man, but he was off doing Styx knows what in Alaska. 

He hadn’t even said goodbye, only sent a short letter once he was already gone.

And now her and Jason barely even talked, both pulled separate directions by the gods’ demands. They wanted Annabeth to constantly be in New York to act as a gateway between Olympus and the US government, and they made Jason stay in New Rome to act as a leader there. They only ever saw each other anymore on the rare occasions they went to Washington D.C. for diplomatic purposes. 

Needless to say, that doesn’t make for a strong marriage, but Hera wouldn’t hear about her champion getting a divorce. It was fortunate that Annabeth and Jason still got along, even if they were no longer in love.

She would have liked to talk about this with her best friend, but she couldn’t even do that because he wasn’t there . 

It would be a lie to say she didn’t resent Percy just a little bit. A part of her thinks if he had asked, she would have gone to Alaska with him.

But it was too late for thoughts like that now. Percy needed her, and despite everything, all the years since they had last talked, she was going to help him. Maybe the gods got it messed up, and loyalty was her fatal flaw.

She tracked down Maddie Sullivan to a small townhouse in Salem, and before thinking twice, she knocked on her door.

“Maddie Sullivan? I’m Annabeth Grace, I’m here regarding some of your past research from your time at Salem State University. You focused on the mist, correct?” Waiting for Dr. Sullivan to nod an affirmative, Annabeth continued, “Have you noticed anything abnormal about it recently?”

Dr. Sullivan hesitated, “I’ve noticed some minor things, but I don’t actively research it anymore. I focus more on my own magic now.”

That wasn’t quite the answer Annabeth wanted, but spying a man sitting on the couch staring at a map, she asked to speak in private. Dr. Sullivan gestured for her to enter what must’ve been her office.

Once the door closed behind them, Annabeth asked for more details about what Dr. Sullivan had noticed. 

“Well, I’ve just noticed some people reporting spikes of the mist working how it used to. People have reported forgetting the gods exist until a monster attacks them. This is, of course, incredibly dangerous, so some of my old coworkers have been investigating it. They suspect it is something psychiatric, like a type of psychosis…”

Dr. Sullivan trailed off at the end, sounding unsure of what she was saying.

“You don’t sound like you believe that though,” Annabeth noted.

Dr. Sullivan bit her lip. “Like I said, I don’t actively research this anymore, but I just don’t think we should brush this off as psychosis. I mean, before the mist stopped hiding the gods, we all thought people who could see monsters were having hallucinations.”

“So what do you think it is?”

There was a long moment where Dr. Sullivan appeared to be gathering her thoughts. “I think the mist is working in small spikes right now. Affecting small groups of people at a time before disappearing again, but I have no idea why it is doing this. Perhaps you could ask Lady Hecate? I’m sure she will know more than me.”

Annabeth had to stop herself from physically quieting Dr. Sullivan, her hands spasming at her side. She knew Hecate was the professor’s patron, but why did she have to say her name? Annabeth didn’t want any gods or goddesses listening into this conversation. Speaking of listeners…

“Who was that man in the living room? Do you trust him?”

Dr. Sullivan blinked, taken aback. “Oh, that’s my uncle. He’s trustworthy, and he wasn’t listening anyway. Don’t worry about him.”

But Annabeth barely heard her, not registering anything she said after the word “uncle” left her mouth. She threw open the door, which banged against the wall, probably leaving a hole behind. This old townhouse was not built with demigods in mind. 

“How do you know Percy Jackson?” Annabeth asked the startled man. He must’ve been in his late sixties, and she felt a little bad for making him jump. He almost looked like he had a mini heart attack.

“I—we’re friends. We worked together.” The man’s hands were shaking, terrified to be faced with an angry demigod, probably. Annabeth tried to reign herself in, but then she realized—

“What do you mean ‘worked.’”

“He disappeared about a month ago.”

Suddenly, Annabeth was sixteen again, her best friend out of her reach for the first time (not counting Mount St. Helen—that was nothing compared to Hera kidnapping him, to him running away to Alaska), and she was scared to death about what could be happening to him.

Chapter Text

“I remember the view

Streetlights in the dark blue 

The moment I knew 

I'd no choice but to love you,” 

—Apollo’s second album, Can you hear me?

—

After his friends had been tended to at the local urgent care, with a physician’s assistant telling them to avoid loud noises and wearing headphones for a couple of weeks, they decided to get back on the road. 

Not before word about the Minotaur spread throughout the tiny town, though. An old looking lady waiting at the urgent care center walked slowly towards them, looking like a swift wind could blow her over. 

“I’m so grateful that you took out that horrible monster for us. We were told help was on the way, but they were so far out, none of us knew what to do. I was terrified of going home—I live alone!” Her voice was rough, like she didn’t talk much, possibly like she didn’t have many people to talk to anymore.

Andy made a point of smiling brightly at her. Jeff always told him how lonely growing old could be. No high school friend groups, he would say. 

“It was no problem,” he said. “We’re glad we could help you.”

The lady muttered something about how he was such a cute boy and passed a twenty dollar bill into his hand. Andy felt kind of strange about being paid for hurting his friends and killing a monster.

Was this how people treated demigods? 

Despite his feelings, he stuffed the twenty dollar bill in his pocket. He needed all the money he could get for food and gas on this trip. Thank the gods healthcare had been made free by Apollo and Asclepdius’s decree. Who knew what they would have done with an urgent care bill. His dad used to tell him he didn’t go to the doctor much as a kid because there just wasn’t enough money to spare. Andy couldn’t imagine how much worse his guilt would be if he couldn’t get his friends medical help.

They got on the road, Andy volunteering to take the truck bed, since sounds were especially  loud in the back, and they drove for hours straight, through the night, only stopping for gas and snacks. Finally, once the sun started to set the next night, they pulled over to rent a motel room.

The room was small and cramped, but it had two full sized beds. Vinyet, Aspen, and Andy all looked at each other.

Vinyet crossed her arms, “I’m not sharing a bed with my ex.” 

Harsh. Andy winced on Aspen’s behalf. He looked over and saw Aspen chewing on their lip.

“It’s okay, Aspen and I can share a bed.” Andy said, and that was that. Three teenagers able to share a motel room with minimal fighting and aggressiveness. It’s a miracle.

—

That night Andy dreamed of a familiar face—one he had seen plastered everywhere on the news, social media, and Spotify. 

Apollo, blonde, youthful, and beautiful sat inside an ornate room strumming a guitar and humming a tune. The sun streamed in through an open window, highlighting cheekbones Andy now realized he saw everyday when he looked in the mirror, though his were still chubby with baby fat. Despite himself, Andy stepped forward, his music-loving heart winning over the horror of learning this might be his father. 

Well, his other father.

A variety of musical instruments were scattered around the room, and leaning up against a piano was a golden lyre Andy knew was Apollo’s sacred symbol. Apollo had brought it on his most recent tour, to his fans’ delight. Andy remembered watching TikToks of him playing it.

Apollo was staring at a poorly done still life painting on the wall. It, in contrast with all of the other art in the room, was clearly done by a beginner. The blending and brushstrokes reminded Andy of his bad middle school art his dad proudly hung up on their apartment’s wall. 

Andy wondered if one of his siblings had painted it, and Apollo had done the same.

The moment was peaceful, beautiful, like a picturesque scene, so of course it didn’t last. The room began to smell of sea salt, and Apollo sat up from his slouched position, placing his guitar to the side. 

A booming voice filled the air, but it wasn’t speaking English, or even the version of Greek and Latin they teach in schools, instead it was something older. In place of human sounds, were animalistic screeches and deep humming. Andy shouldn’t have understood it, but, somehow, he did. 

“Apollo,” the voice began, like violent waves crashing on the shore. “Still pretending to mourn my son?”

And there, in the middle of the room, was a new god. They weren’t wearing human form, so Andy couldn’t place who it was from his Greek classes. Though based on the smell and the sound of their voice, they were likely a sea god. 

It was hard to look at them, their very essence seemed to drain the sunlight from the room, like they were from the depths of the ocean, where the sun couldn’t reach. Andy wondered if that form was on purpose—a power play with the sun god. 

He imagined this was what a black hole looks like. There was something terrifying about the image in front of him. Not necessarily the god’s form, but that Andy could even look at the god in this form at all. Humans weren’t meant to perceive the divine, even in dreams. 

Luckily, Apollo didn’t change his form to match. Instead, he lounged back on his velvet sofa without a care in the world, the perfect picture of a nonchalant frat boy. 

“Uncle,” Apollo greeted. Like the other god, Poseidon based on Apollo’s address, Apollo didn’t speak any language Andy knew, but he understood it anyway. His voice was an endless song, music from instruments either lost to time or not yet invented. Andy wanted to hear him speak more. He briefly wondered what it would be like to be raised by him, lulled to sleep with this old language in his musical voice every night. “There is nothing fake or pretend about my feelings for your son.”

“And yet you hurt him,” the other god replied. “He would not have left if you hadn’t.”

Apollo sat up quicker than Andy’s eyes could follow, and his skin glowed ever so slightly. “Do not speak about what you do not know. It was your son who hurt me.”

The god laughed, and it sounded like an earthquake. “Did my mortal son manage to hurt a god? Good.”

And just like that, Apollo’s mortal form was gone. He took on the form of a thousand plagues, germs and illness filling the air where his human body used to be. Had this not been a dream, Andy thinks he wouldn’t have been able to track his godly father, but something about it allowed him to know where he was anyway. His form spread out to surround the room, as if telling Poseidon this was his home, and he was everywhere in it. 

“I’m not so sure it wasn’t you who scared him off. Perhaps he found out about your plot to turn him immortal.” Apollo hissed. His musical melody of a voice was gone, replaced with sounds of death and screams of pain. 

“He would have achieved immortality either way. I merely wanted to make sure it was as painless as I could make it. I certainly didn’t want him to achieve immortality like Heracles.”

There was a moment of silence. Andy had the horrible feeling that the two gods in front of him had had this conversation many times before and that they would have it again. History repeats after all, and when you're immortal, what else is there to do with all the time in the world?

“Now, he will never achieve immortality. Not with him beyond both of our reaches.”

“You must have done something to scare him off. Surely, you could send a demigod to relay your apology. Perhaps one of Hermes’ lot.”

“None of the demigods will take a quest to find him, and he will kill any monster I send before they can share a message. No, I send my messages to him through my music and hope he hears it.”

Poseidon scoffed, sounding like the sinking of a ship, “And how well has that worked?”

Andy could see one of the plagues around the room lash out, like a striking dog. Apollo wasn’t happy. 

“Well, what have you done to try and bring your child home? Caused anymore mass casualties recently? I’m sure he loves those.”

“I want him to see how I mourn him every time he looks out to the sea. He will see the tsunamis and the earthquakes and the hurricanes, and know I am not at peace with him out of my reach.”

The gods were at an impasse over some mystical man Andy hadn’t heard of before, a son of Poseidon. His father’s infamous songs of pining and loss about the demigod, and the oceans' rabid storms were because of him as well.

Andy kind of wanted to meet him, but as the dream faded out of focus and Andy was pulled to the waking world, he felt anger flood him. Fuck Morpheus! He knew that dream was real. He had heard of demigod dreams before, and his first one wasn’t even useful. 

Could he not have seen another scene? Where Apollo was talking about his father? The demigod or monster who took him from Alaska? Where he was being kept? Could he not even know through a dream that his father was safe? 

Andy punched the shitty pillow on his motel bed three times before his anger abruptly turned to sadness, and he felt his eyes start to water. The next thing to hit the pillow was his face. He felt shuffling on the bed beside him.

“Hey are you okay?” Aspen asked. 

Right, satyrs could feel emotions. In addition to watching the pathetic scene Andy was making, Aspen probably knew way too much about his mental state right now. Like they were his therapist from back home. 

Oh well, no use playing pretend now.

“I’m worried about my dad,” Andy said, his voice wobbling. 

“It’s okay to be worried about him. It’d be concerning if you weren’t. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Andy looked over and saw Vinyet rustling around on the other bed. If they weren’t careful, they would wake her up. He didn’t want Miss You-should-change-your-meds to join this conversation too.

“Yeah, I know.” They sat in silence, neither of them knowing what else to say.

Andy laid back down, before saying a delayed, “thanks.”

Aspen didn’t respond verbally, instead reaching over to squeeze Andy’s hand.

Andy stared at the ceiling, trying to distract himself from his frustration, which ended up being unhelpful as his attention turned back to the eldritch forms of the two gods. Awake, he was unable to picture what they had looked like or even articulate the experience, but the horror of seeing the gods' non-human forms stuck in his mind. 

For a moment, he had seen something mortals weren’t supposed to see, and he had survived it.

The world around him seemed frightening in a new way now. He heard the creek of the trees and the rustling of animals and couldn’t help but wonder if the gods were whispering in their ancient language just outside his window. If Apollo and Poseidon had found out he eavesdropped on them and were planning their revenge right now. 

It was finally, truly hitting him that he was mortal, temporary, and he was planning to fight the gods to get his dad back. He was like an ant to them, and he remembered all of the times he had squashed ants as a kid.

He didn’t go back to sleep that night.

—

The next morning was a new day, and Andy was determined to not think about his dream from last night. Aspen sat on the motel bed and counted their leftover money before looking up and shaking their head, but Vinyet paid them no mind, hustling them into the car for “breakfast” anyway.

“Vinyet,” Aspen began, “the motel cost a lot of money. Where are we going to get a really cheap breakfast.”

“We’re going to a winery near here, and they’re going to give us free food.”

“And why would they do that?” Andy asked.

Vinyet pointed to herself, as if that explained everything. Oh gods, was Vinyet going to be a Karen about being a daughter of Dionysis?

It turns out that was exactly Vinyet’s plan. They pulled up outside of a vineyard. Vinyet stared in shock. “Holy Styx,” she said. “This isn’t a winery. It’s a meadery! I fucking love mead.”

Vinyet literally ran towards the entrance, leaving Andy and Aspen to look at each other in shock. Aspen shrugged and followed Vinyet to the entrance, albeit at a much slower pace.

Inside, the building was situated like a standard bar. Vinyet had already grabbed a table, and Andy and Aspen joined her.

Vinyet tapped her fingers repeatedly against the beat-up table to a rhythm he recognized as a famous song by a child of Apollo.

He was hit with the sudden realization that he had a lot of famous siblings. He remembered being back in high school having a school lunch conversation with his friends about how every famous musician either slept with Apollo, was his kid, or was Apollo, himself. They had teased him that he better learn how to seduce a god.

Jokes on them, though. He already has one of the three options done. One step closer to that music deal.

Before that train of thought can take him somewhere he wouldn’t like, a waiter comes over. He’s probably 25 and heavily tattooed. He also seems completely done with his job, which is fair. Andy had been working at an ice cream shop ever since he turned 16 a couple months ago, and he always felt done with everything at work. 

“I’ll be your waiter today, can I get you started with drinks?” The man asks with a flat tone.

“What type of mead do you have? What’s your personal favorite? My father is the Wine God, you see, and I was really hoping to be impressed.”

And with that the waiter stuttered about their best selling meads. Andy tried his best to drown him out. He didn’t know anything about what he was saying after all, but then, “And right now we have our all time bestselling mythical creatures mead series, which includes our famous Minotaur’s Malice which is made with prickly pear and peaches as well as local wildflower honey.”

At the mention of the Minotaur, Andy felt his hunger evaporate, but Vinyet only seemed to get more excited. “We’ll share that one!” She said.

Just when Andy was about to point out that the mead here looked expensive, the waiter said, “Of course! I’ll bring it right out along with some free breakfast platters. It’ll all be on the house, and if you like it, maybe you can mention us to your father?”

“For sure,” Vinyet smiled. Once the waiter left Vinyet turned to him and Aspen, and her smile turned noticeably more smug.

Andy banged his head against the table. Demigods.

“Okay,” Aspen interrupted Andy’s pity party. “So where exactly are we, Vinyet? And what’s the game plan from here?”

Vinyet straightened up from where she was leaning against the booth. “We’re just outside of Kansas City, and it just so happens my brother is on tour there right now.”

Andy pulled his face away from the table. “Your brother’s a musician?”

“No. He’s a performer with Cirque Du Soleil, which is on tour right now in Kansas City. I figured we could ask him for help with restocking food and supplies. I’ll figure out a way to pay him back later.” 

“What’s your brother’s name?” Andy asked.

“Pollux.”

Chapter Text

And he swims on, turning back to shore again

Above the outer atmosphere of a world he's never seen

And looking down to his new home, he feels the rising of a wave

And knows, at once, he will not weather it

Like that man, I looked down into the depths when I met you

I couldn't measure it

—Apollo’s first album, Paper Rings

—

They spend the ride to Kansas City dodging toll booths, and when they finally arrive downtown, Vinyet directs them to a Hilton Head hotel. “I Iris messaged my brother last night, and he said it was okay for us to stay with him here. Free lodging,” she smiles.

Andy is startled at the casual mention of Iris Messaging. He knows from class that it’s only available to gods, demigods, and other mythical creatures. He supposes he could Iris Message now, too, but something about it feels vaguely sacrilegious. Like he isn’t meant to.

They pile out of the car and head into the hotel. The concierge looks at them questioningly—they don’t look super put together, and they’re all minors—but he doesn’t stop them. And before they know it, they’re on the seventh floor, knocking on Pollux’s door. 

A man who looks vaguely similar to Vinyet opens the door. His eyes rove over Aspen and Andy, but when they hit Vinyet, he breaks out into a bright smile. “Vinyet,” he greets. “Come in, come in.” 

Vinyet walks in like she owns the place, while Aspen and Andy shuffle in awkwardly after here. 

“How are you?” Pollux asks his sister. 

“We’re fine,” she says briskly. “I’m on the outs with dad again, though, so don’t tell him you saw me.”

Pollux eyes her with a gleam in his eyes. “I think you overestimate how much I talk with our father.”

This is the second demigod Andy has ever met, and something about this comment peaks his interest. Andy wants to know more about what it’s like to have a god for a father. He wants to know what he can expect of Apollo. 

“You don’t get along with him?” 

For the first time, Pollux truly studies him, and Andy just knows he’s clocking him a child of Apollo. That’s probably all any demigod will see him as. “You look vaguely familiar,” Pollux says, instead of answering his question.

Vinyet rolls her eyes. “Yeah, he looks just like the music god.” 

“No. I mean, yes, he does, but it’s something else. I can’t put my finger on it.” His eyes weigh on Andy, and he’s suddenly reminded of how Dionysis can drive people mad with just his gaze. 

“Pollux!” Vinyet interrupts his musing. 

Pollux seems to shake himself out of his thoughts. “Sorry,” he says. “Anyway, I get along fine with my dad, but when the mist fell and the gods started being worshiped again, I didn’t want to publicly claim myself as a child of Dionysis. I think that offended him a little, and things have been strange between us ever since.”

“Oh,” Andy says, feeling awkward. He’s not sure how he feels about publicly claiming Apollo as his father, and the idea that he might be offended if he doesn’t…

Andy’s been trying to avoid thinking about it, but he can’t help but picture how the kids in his class will react when they learn the news. Not well, he imagines. People didn’t move to Alaska because they liked the gods. And they didn’t teach their kids to like the gods either.

“Anyway,” Pollux says, wanting to change the subject. “Guess what I got you all.”

He doesn’t give them time to actually guess before he’s thrusting three tickets at them for his Cirque Du Soleil show tonight. Andy’s torn, they’re kind of in a rush, but Pollux is going to help them, so they can’t really say no.

Plus, his inner theater kid is squealing at the idea of watching a professional show.

Aspen is the one to decide for them. “Thanks!” They say, excited. “I can’t wait to see a show with an actual son of Dionysis in it!”

Pollux seems to deflate at Aspen’s words, and Andy suspects that must be the reason he never publicly claimed his parentage. Andy can imagine that demigods never really escape their parents' shadow.

Regardless, Pollux heads off to get ready for the show an hour and a half before curtains with a pep in his step, and they follow an hour after. 

Their money is still limited, but Vinyet buys a frozen margarita anyway. It’s such a stereotypical Dionysis thing to do, Andy almost laughs. When she finishes her drink fast enough to give anyone else brain freeze, Aspen eats the cup. The move is so practiced, Andy can tell they used to date.

And finally, the show starts, and it’s breathtaking. At one point, there’s a stack of four men on each other's shoulders, with Pollux at the bottom. Acknowledging his parentage or not, his demigod strength comes in handy. And while Andy feels bad thinking it, Aspen was right to say that they were excited to see a child of Dionysis perform. Every time Pollux is on stage, everyone’s eyes seem to gravitate towards him. He was made to perform; there’s no doubt about it. 

They stick around afterwards to wait to head back to the hotel with Pollux, and Pollux stays behind to meet fans. Andy watches him get swarmed all while wondering how much worse it would be if his parentage was known. 

Andy wonders how bad it’ll be when he’s releasing music as a son of Apollo.

But he’s getting ahead of himself. He’s not even sure if he wants a music career anymore. Not if it’ll just be seen as an extension of his godly father. He wants to stand on his own two feet. In that way, he understands Pollux. 

When they’re finally all locked away in the hotel room later that night, they finally ask Pollux what they’ve been wanting to ask—the whole reason they’ve stopped in Kansas City to talk to him. 

“Andy’s dad has been kidnapped—the mortal one—and we think it might’ve been the sun god’s doing. We’re trying to sneak into New Delos to save him, but we need your advice on how to pull it off.”

Pollux scratches at his beard before saying. “I need a drink,” Andy watches, expecting him to pull out some nice wine only to see him bring out a bottle of Josh . He offers all of them a glass, and Andy expects Vinyet to turn him down with a cutting remark about wine being terrible, but she accepts with a quiet thanks. She drinks half the glass in one go. 

“Are you sure the sun god kidnapped him? That doesn’t really seem like his M.O. If your dad pissed him off, he’d probably just curse him, and to be honest, he hasn’t cared much about most of his exes recently. You might have more luck coming clean and asking for his help.”

Aspen, Andy, and Vinyet all stare at him blankly. “Well, we’re not going to do that.” Vinyet says, quite rudely. Aspen hits her shoulder.

Pollux looks to Andy for confirmation, though. “I can’t see anyone but my father being the one to do it though. My dad moved to Alaska for a reason, though he never told me why, and when he disappeared our whole apartment complex was set on fire. I don’t know, I just thought it screamed godly wrath.”

Pollux hums, tapping his finger on his thigh. “Aspen, Vinyet, would you mind heading down to the lobby? I want to talk with Andy. Alone.”

Aspen agrees readily, and Vinyet looks vaguely annoyed, but with only a little grumbling, they listen, heading out the door. When the door closes behind them, Pollux asks in a low voice with a gravity Andy wasn’t expecting. “What’s your father’s name Andy?”

Surprised at the question, Andy doesn’t think twice about responding, “Perseus Jackson, but he goes by Percy.”

Pollux leans back in his seat. “Yeah, that’s what I was scared you were going to say.”

His response throws Andy for a loop, but before he can ask what he means, Pollux continues. “Listen, I knew your dad,” he tells Andy. “Percy had a lot of enemies. But…” he trails off, “the sun god kidnapping him isn’t off the table.”

“What do you mean my dad had a lot of enemies?” Andy asks, shock rolling through his system like a bolt of lightning.

“Your dad was a demigod,” Pollux says, ripping the bandaid off. Andy’s mouth falls open in shock, but before he can ask anything, Pollux continues, “And he was heavily involved in the Titan and Giant Wars. He pissed a lot of people off, and even more, he pissed off his father and the sun god when he disappeared.”

“Who was his father?”

“The god of the sea.” 

With a foreboding feeling, Andy remembers his dream. Apollo and Poseidon arguing over Poseidon’s missing child. None of the demigods will take a quest to find him, and he will kill any monster I send before they can share a message. Apollo had said. Had someone finally accepted the quest to capture his dad? And if they were talking about his dad, why did no demigods want to take the quest. 

Andy’s always heard that demigods were desperate to prove themselves, taking on any quest the gods throw their way. But, thinking of it now, hadn’t his dad been the one to say that? Was he a biased source? Had he gone on quests and grew bitter with the process?

Or has someone else gone to Alaska to kidnap his dad—someone from his dad’s apparently long list of enemies? 

“The god of the sea,” Andy repeats under his voice. Had Poseidon finally forced his son to come back? All of the myths had said he was possessive and protective of his children, hadn’t they? And that he was quick to anger, which could explain the fire…

Andy has too many questions and no answers. A demigod, Andy knows, is hyper involved in godly politics, especially if they existed before the mist fell, when the community was much more tightly knit. His father could’ve pissed off any number of gods and monsters he was rubbing elbows with. 

“We have to move forward with the belief that my father did it,” Andy hardly hears his own voice like a distant echo, losing hope the more he thinks about it. “It’s our best lead.”

Pollux gives him a look of sad understanding. “I’m sorry,” he says uselessly. 

Andy tries to gather himself and send Pollux a weak smile. 

Pollux returns it, and finishes off his glass of wine, before saying, “Well, if you’re trying to get into New Delos, just make sure to time it so you’re arriving next,” Pollux pulls out his phone to check his calendar. “Oh, wow, three days from now. You better get on the road.”

“How do you know when the annual trip to New Delos for children of the sun god is?” Andy asks.

“I keep in touch with some of your siblings.” Andy tries not to think about how weird it is to have siblings—and enough to start a sports team and then some. “Anyway, just try to keep your head down, and—this is really important—if he notices you, make up a lie about your mortal parent. Do not tell him Percy is your dad.”

“Why?” 

Pollux winces. “He’s not very normal about your dad. Actually, most people actively involved with the gods aren’t, so don’t go mentioning it to anyone else either.”

The warning settles into Andy’s gut ominously. What had his dad done?

“Alright,” he says, taking the warning to heart. “I won’t.”

And as he falls asleep later that night, sleeping next to Aspen and Vinyet on the floor of Pollux’s hotel room, he thinks about his dad. More specifically, he thinks about how little he knows of his dad’s past.]

Why didn’t he ever tell me he was a demigod? Andy wonders. Despite himself, a sense of betrayal blooms in his gut.

—

Pollux walks them to the truck the next morning, and as Andy goes to climb into the passenger seat of the truck, Pollux stops him and hands him a rolled up ball of bills. “Oh, I can’t accept this,” Andy tells him, trying to give it back to him.

“Your dad saved my life. You can, and you will.” With an uneasy surety, Andy knows Pollux isn’t talking about Apollo. 

He climbs into the truck and glances down at the bills enough to see it’s a fat stack of 20s.

He’s staring out the window shell shocked as Vinyet starts up the truck. When they finally pull out of the parking lot, and Pollux is out of sight, Vinyet asks, faux-casually, “What the fuck do you mean you’re dad’s Percy Jackson? Why didn’t you tell me? I told you about my parents!” 

By the end, her voice is sharp and any calmness long gone. Andy is yet again left wondering who his dad is that Vinyet reacts like this. His reputation certainly seems to proceed him. 

“How do you know my dad?”

“How do I know—how do I know Percy Jackson? Percy Jackson! Because I’m a fucking demigod, that’s how I know him. He’s a legend! There’s a statue of him right at the entrance of Camp Half-Blood. He led an army into the Battle of Manhattan. He fought a giant specifically designed to kill his father and won. He survived Tartarus! Fuck, dude, some of the cabins literally pray to him. ”

Andy’s head swirls at his dad’s list of accomplishments, not fully comprehending what they mean. He grew up hearing about demigods on the news and in class and on social media, but to know that the whole time his dad was one of them? And an apparently accomplished one at that? He can’t wrap his head around it.

“He's just my dad,” Andy croaks out. He used tucked him into bed. He showed up to all of his shows and clapped obnoxiously loud at the end. He still bakes him a cake for his birthday every year.

Vinyet stares at him for a long moment before saying. “Our next stop is St. Louis, there’s something you need to see there.”

Instead of replying to that, Andy asks, “How did you know my dad was Percy Jackson, anyway?”

Vinyet blushes, “I, uh, was listening outside the door.”

Andy graciously decides not to comment on that. “Does Aspen know?”

“No, and we shouldn’t tell them. They have obligations bigger than their loyalty to either of us. It’s like how they’ve sold me out to my dad before.” Andy can’t help but feel this is a little unfair to Aspen who seems to be trying to redeem themselves, but he’s scared enough of his dad’s identity—and what it means—that he agrees to keep it a secret. 

It’s a four hour drive to St. Louis, but Vinyet puts the pedal to the metal and gets them there in three and a half hours, determined to show him… whatever it is she wants to show him.

Chapter Text

On some level, I think I always understood

That a ship could never really love an anchor

- Apollo’s second album, Can you hear me?

—

St. Louis appears over the horizon, covered in clouds and gloom. Vinyet doesn’t waste any time worrying about the poor weather. Pollux had reminded them before they left that they needed to get to New Delos in three days. It should be plenty of time, but only if they don’t run into any problems. Another run in with a monster could be enough to ensure they don’t make it. 

But she’s not worried about St. Louis. It’s a city strangely void of monsters thanks to Lord Poseidon. Years ago, Percy Jackson— Andy’s father , Vinyet screams internally, still baffled at that reveal—had almost died trying to escape Echidna and her Chimera, and the city had since become the stronghold for the gods in the midwest, almost perfectly halfway between Camp Half-Blood and New Rome. 

The gods cared about the city. They took care of it, and St. Louis had thrived under the attention.

The Gateway Arch Museum acted as a display of all the modern achievements of the divine and their half-divine offspring. Getting your name in the museum was a badge of honor. A lot of people back at Camp Half-Blood wanted to get their own plaque there one day. 

Percy Jackson had his own exhibit. Well, kind of, and that’s what Vinyet wanted to show Andy. 

The drive from Kansas City to St. Louis had them stay on I-70 almost the whole time, so it’s a relief when they pull off onto the smaller roads within St. Louis and heads towards the Missouri River. 

The Arch is positioned in downtown St. Louis, and Vinyet parks in a nearby parking garage before shaking Andy to wake him up. He had fallen asleep about halfway across the state. In the back, Aspen jumps out and practically kisses the ground. Vinyet rolls her eyes at how dramatic they are.

“We’re here!” She announces.

“Right.” Andy says, “And why are we here?”

“Well you clearly need some education on the gods, and this is the best place to do it! Well, the best place that was on route to our destination, at least.”

“What a glowing review,” Andy mutters. Vinyet pretends not to hear him.

She marches forward to the arch, and her friends fall in line behind her. 

Admission to the museum is free, and when the attendant cheerfully informs her donations are encouraged to keep the museum running, Vinyet gives her a glare scary enough to get her to leave them alone. She has no intention of paying tithes while she’s still on the outs with her dad and donating to the museum feels a bit too close to it.

It might not be a temple, but this museum is made for worship.

The museum is huge and absolutely packed. She has half a mind to grab Aspen and Andy’s hand in a pseudo pre-schooler line to make sure none of them get lost. She doesn’t though. She doesn’t like touching people.

“Okay, so, like, how long do we have to stay here?”

Vinyet shoots Andy a side-eye, and he frowns back at her. 

“In case I need to remind you, we’re on a deadline,” he says, defending himself. “The longer we’re here, the longer my dad is… wherever he is.”

Vinyet almost responds that this museum might actually help them brainstorm where he is before remembering Aspen and thinking better of it. Gods, how is she supposed to show Andy all the stuff about his dad while hiding from Aspen that Andy’s dad is the guy they’re talking about?

Aspen, like all satyrs—and most people involved in the godly world—knows all about Percy Jackson. Grover, the lord of the wild, had been his best friend ever since they were kids and talked about him a lot apparently. Stories about Percy Jackson were plentiful amongst the satyrs.

Almost as plentiful as they were amongst the demigods. 

So she shouldn’t be surprised when Aspen immediately heads towards the unnamed “hero” exhibit without prompting from her or Andy. 

When Annabeth Grace had written her autobiography, she had needed to take delicate care when discussing Percy Jackson. When the mist had first started to fall, Percy had requested the gods not mention his name in any of their announcements or speeches, and they hadn’t. And when he disappeared, the gods swore their demigod children to do the same. 

(Not like they needed to, they already were. No one respected Percy Jackson more than the demigods he led in the wars did.)

All this meant that Annabeth Grace’s book has multiple entries about an unnamed demigod she appropriately nicknamed “the hero.” The phrase had stuck, and now anytime the gods, demigods, nature spirits, or anyone else in the know needed to talk about Percy Jackson in public they used it. 

And the phrase hangs now over the entrance to Percy Jackson’s exhibit in the Gateway Arch Museum. 

Vinyet comes to a stop and gestures for Andy to walk ahead of her. He needs to see this far more than Vinyet or Aspen do. They already know all the stories.

Andy’s hands shake as he walks into the large room, and he crosses his arms in front of him to hide it. Not before they notice, though. 

Aspen shoots Vinyet a questioning look, but she doesn’t acknowledge it. “C’mon,” she says instead, trying to distract them. “Wouldn’t you like to see this exhibit?”

Aspen shrugs and they walk into the room together. They stand side-by-side, reading about Percy Jackson being raised on the shield in New Rome, becoming praetor after less than a week at Camp Jupiter. It was crazy impressive but everything about him was.

Vinyet doesn’t actually take any of it in. She’s heard the story before, and Aspen is standing close enough to her that she can feel their body heat if she focuses. She slides an inch over, closer to Aspen, and Aspen notices immediately. They smile at her, and maybe it’s stupid when she’s been so mad at them the whole trip, but Vinyet smiles back.

They stand in front of the plaque like that for a little bit, neither of them actually paying any attention to the exhibit. Finally, Vinyet decides to look around for Andy, wanting to check on him. 

She spots him almost immediately. He’s standing in front of a large painting of the Minotaur, which Vinyet now knows is surprisingly inaccurate. She walks over towards him, and Aspen tags along behind her.

It’s not until they get closer that Vinyet can see Andy is crying silently right in front of the Minotaur's plaque. He’s standing still as a statue, but his tears shine under the bright fluorescent light. She gestures for Aspen to stay back, telling them to meet her at the Apollo exhibit later—the other exhibit they needed to check out today for clues.

Aspen wanders away, and Vinyet slides up to Andy’s side.

“Hey are you okay?” She asks.

Andy licks his lips to get rid of some of the tears, and Vinyet notices the tear tracks have gone all the way down to his neck to disappear into the collar of his shirt. He must’ve been crying for a while. 

She tries to remember what she knows about the Minotaur story, and abruptly recalls that Sally Jackson—Percy Jackson’s mother and Andy’s grandmother—was originally thought to have died. 

“You’re grandmother’s still alive if you want to meet her,” she whispers, thinking that’s what Andy’s worried about.

Andy just shakes his head. “I just don’t understand,” he says. “Why wouldn’t my dad tell me about this? Even just to warn me. I mean—he fought it too! I just… I feel like I don’t know him at all.”

Vinyet fiddles with her hands, not sure what to say. She wasn’t particularly close with either of her parents, and her relationship with her mother was actively terrible, and her relationship with her father was a distant, controlling thing. Besides, she isn’t that great at comforting people normally.

“I’m sorry,” she settles on finally.

“Not your fault.” Andy mutters. “And that’s not even the only reason this exhibit is depressing.”

“What’s the other reason?”

Andy takes in a deep, heaving breath. “Your brother was right. My dad had a lot of enemies.”

Silence settles between them. Vinyet knows what this means—they just got a lot of new suspects.

She reaches out to Andy before lowering it. She hated touching people, but Andy looks like he needs it now. Swallowing her desire to take a step away, she puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes. “And you were right when you said your father is our best lead. We’ll find him. He’ll be at New Delos or there’ll be a clue there of where we should go next.” 

Andy wipes his face and sniffs, and Vinyet gestures for them to leave. “C’mon,” she says, “I went ahead and sent Aspen to the Sun God exhibit. We need to learn as much about him as we can.”