Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CW: Referenced Past Sexual Harassment, Internalized Ableism, Referenced Ableism, Mental Breakdown

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

I: Beauty Bites

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

June 3rd, 2005

Yancy Academy

“...I’m sorry, Percy.”

Percy fought the urge to grimace and just pursed his lips. Once again, he was being kicked out of a school.

Once again, it wasn't his fault.

“All I did was tell her to go away,” Percy insisted. “Why is it somehow my fault that Nancy went missing?”

“You were the last person to see Miss Bobofit, Percy,” Principal Armand said as he removed his glasses. “And she said it was you who separated her from the group when we found her.”

“Nancy’s a liar! She's never told an adult the truth a day in her life!” Percy objected. He needed this to work. He desperately needed this to work. Mom had worked so hard to get him into a nice school like this in America. He had to try.

He already had grades that were only just barely passing. If he got expelled…

“Percy… You should tell the truth for once, yourself,” said Grover by his side.

Percy gave him a betrayed look. “Grover?! I didn't do anything to Nancy! I didn't even touch her! She ran away!” He repeated, feeling hurt at Grover’s betrayal. He'd watched what happened! Percy knew he'd seen Nancy just walk away.

He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes for a moment before sighing. “...Okay,” he said miserably. “Fine. I'm not going to pretend I hurt Nancy - because I didn't,” he told them, saying the word with as much acid as he could muster while glaring at Grover, who seemed unfazed. “But… If you want to expel me, then… Fine.”

Percy stood up, brushing himself off. He'd dressed nicely, too… Well, what counted as nice for his wardrobe. A baggy sweater and loose jeans. They hid his figure, and that's what he cared about.

He ignored what they had to say - it was just false apologies anyway - and exited the office, slamming the wooden door shut behind him before stalking off.

When he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the windows, he glared at it with open disgust.

Pretty. He was pretty.

In terms of masculine or feminine, Percy certainly preferred to present and act feminine. Or… He had, until that started to prove problematic.

It started with bullying. Girls who were jealous of his pretty face that boys liked looking at more than the girls’. They'd tug on his soft and well-cared for curls, so he started to tie it back into tight, unattractive buns. Or they'd throw wadded up papers, trying to hit his eyes that seemed to be several colors at once. That was when he had his Mom buy thick glasses with ugly square frames.

Then the boys started leering at his body, so he started to sit out of gym class. He took the poor grades because the idea of seeing his body and having his body be seen was just plain unsettling and gross.

And then he was kicked out of school in fifth grade after a boy tried to tear his clothes off him to make fun of him. Percy was punished for ‘instigating’ him into doing it. Percy had just made a joke about ‘go away or do something’ and the boy attacked. He didn't understand why.

Mom didn't get mad, but… He was. He was mad at himself for his face. For his body. For his everything.

It was worse last year, when they first moved to Manhattan. When boys assumed he was a girl and tried to lift his shirt or grope his chest. He'd had to change schools twice for reasons like that. It didn't help that nobody seemed to listen to him, acting like he was at fault because he was… Instigating. Asking for it.

“How am I asking for it?!” He'd asked. He was wearing the ugliest, baggiest clothes he could find. He'd put his hair into a bun that hurt from how it tugged on his scalp. He'd worn glasses that made his face look even less attractive, from their shape and how they hid his eyes.

But no. Percy Jackson was always asking for it. Because he was pretty and that meant he deserved what happened to him.

Sometimes girls would show him pity or be friendly because they ‘understood’. But then they got jealous. They started to bully him again, especially after their boyfriends started making eyes at Percy.

Nancy Bobofit was one of those girls.

At the start of the year, Percy was a new student at Yancy. His first private school. He'd had high hopes, and actually made friends. Even in spite of the ways he made himself ‘ugly’, Nancy and her friends brought him into the fold. Complimenting him, relating to his struggles, and being friendly. They just… got it.

And then Nancy started dating Milo Hunt. And she was on cloud nine. Percy was happy for her, even though he had felt a bit nervous since Milo had given him looks before. But he hoped that Milo had asked Nancy out because he genuinely liked her.

It seemed like it… Until they were introduced. Percy knew from the moment he shook Milo’s uncomfortably damp hand that everything was going to fall apart. And then it did.

Nancy started to get colder. Nasty. She and the others cut Percy out and called him ‘toxic’, ‘slut’, and all sorts of other horrible words.

Frankly, when Grover Underwood approached him, Percy had been convinced he was just another awkward nerd that wanted to shoot his shot with the ‘boy so hot he was a girl’. The boy everyone thought was going to be giving favors in bathroom stalls one day.

But no. Grover was… Nice. He was friendly and cajoling, and never once did Percy catch him staring. His eyes seemed… Unfazed. Uninterested. Percy actually had hope.

And then while they were on a field trip, Nancy threw her sandwich at Grover. Percy had seen red, but kept his mouth shut since he knew Nancy was just getting back at him.

Then Nancy met him in a private spot to bitch him out, and he'd told her to ‘go far away’.

It wasn't his fault she took it literally. At least she'd been found by police before she could get much farther than West Virginia, or before she got hurt. But Percy failed to see how it was his fault that Nancy had a psychotic break and decided to both do as Percy said and also try to hitchhike across the freaking country.

He got to his room and unlocked it. He had a private one since he'd asked nicely due to not trusting the other boys. He didn't know why he'd been accomodated, but he had and nobody questioned it.

Percy just liked having a second bed to throw his stuff on.

He packed his bags easily and quickly. It wasn't hard - he had a lot, but he usually kept it all together in case he had to leave at a moment’s notice.

He looked in the mirror again.

His hair had come a bit loose, stray curls like corkscrews bouncing on his forehead and cheeks. His glasses had slid down his nose, showing just the slightest glimpse of a clear look at his eyes that seemed to shift between black, brown, and green if he looked too long. Sometimes he even saw hazel, blue, or gray.

Warm brown skin, some faint beauty marks, flawless and full eyebrows and eyelashes… His nose was soft and round, and his lips were fuller and softer with a natural pout to round out the look. Add in the fact his face was pretty much heart shaped and he'd never had acne a day in his life and yeah, he could see why girls would be jealous.

But why did they have to take it out on Percy?

He sifted through his bags and found his bus card. He tucked it into a pocket, shouldered his duffel, and grabbed the handles of the two rolling suitcases. Just like that, everything he owned was packed away.

Just like that, he was leaving yet another school.

Percy pushed the door open and left, leaving the keys on the desk.

“Hello, Percy.”

“Oh… Hey, Mr. Brunner,” Percy said to the bearded man as he rolled up. Brunner used a wheelchair, and was one of the only teachers who hadn't ever given Percy grief. Or, at least, too much grief.

“I'm sorry that you have to leave,” Brunner said gently as he parked himself next to the bus stop bench. “For what it's worth, though… It may be for the best.”

Percy bristled. “What, because I cause trouble wherever I go?” He snapped. He regretted it immediately because of the stern look Brunner gave him.

“No, Percy. Because you don't fit in with your peers,” Brunner chastised. “You… Have different qualities that separate you from the pack.”

Percy sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Autism and ADHD. I know,” he said, exasperated. “‘Special ed’, and I get to avoid being grouped with the others all because I asked nicely.”

Brunner frowned at him. “Is it truly so bad to be with people like yourself?” He asked.

“Oh for…” Percy sighed. “Look, I don't care if I'm with the other special ed kids. But I don't want to be different. I want to be normal.”

“Yet you aren't normal,” Brunner observed. “I would say you're the least normal student in your year.”

Percy was starting to think he preferred the teachers who gave him preferential treatment. Brunner was only serving to irritate him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you suck at pep talks?” Percy snarked.

“No, why?” Brunner asked mildly.

Percy rolled his eyes and went back to staring out at the street, waiting for the bus. “I… Look. I know I'm weird. Pretty boy with mental disabilities and no idea who his Dad is. Just… I wanted to have friends. Friends who see me for… me. Percy. Not…”

“Not for your appearance?” Brunner completed. Percy nodded. “You realize that those from the special ed course would probably have been different, yes?”

“In what ways?” Percy asked tiredly. “Do they not care about appearances? Mr Brunner, everyone cares about appearances. They're literally a core part of your first impression.”

“Well, those who are visually impaired—”

“Still listen to voices,” Percy said grimly. “And yes, I am very aware of how ‘pretty’ my voice is, too. It's all… ‘pretty’. And people pay attention to that.”

“I had thought being pretty was a good thing? Even if your looks may be more, ah, feminine in nature…”

Percy snorted. “Yeah, and that just makes it worse,” he grumbled. “Girls get jealous, guys get creepy… Grover was the only person my age who didn't get weird about it.”

“Ah. Well, puberty can make hormones run rampant,” Brunner said, seeming a little melancholic. “It's normal for children your age to be emotional and… Well, jealous. Or easily attracted. And you're—”

“Asking for it, being this pretty?” Percy snapped. He'd heard it so many times he was sick of it.

The bus arrived before Brunner could reply and Percy stood, grabbing his suitcases by their handles. “Thanks for the talk, I guess. Can't say I'll be seeing you again,” he shot over his shoulder, not waiting for Brunner’s last words before he wordlessly swiped his bus card and made his way to a seat.

As always, he chose one with an empty window seat that he put his bags on while he sat on the aisle-side seat. So that nobody could push his bags out and sit next to him, which he'd experienced the hard way.

Creepy. Everyone was just creepy.

“Well… Not everyone,” he begrudged as he settled in for the long ride home.

Percy knocked on the door.

“Coming!” A familiar voice said.

Moments later, the door to the apartment that was Percy’s home opened up to reveal Sally Jackson. A pretty woman with black hair about as curly as Percy’s, though she left hers free and loose.

“Hi Percy,” Mom said with a sad smile as she wrapped her arms around him.

He let go of the suitcases and hugged her back. She smelled like cookies. “Hey, Mom,” he said hoarsely. “I… I'm home.”

Mom smiled, her eyes crinkling as she patted his shoulders. “Come on in, I just finished making some of your favorites.”

“Oatmeal with blueberries?” Percy asked hopefully. It was a weird cookie to like, he knew, but it just tasted good.

“You know it.”

Sally Jackson was proof in Percy’s opinion that the best people had the absolute worst luck. When he shut and locked the door, he saw a picture of two people he knew were his grandparents - they'd died in a plane crash while Mom was in college, so she'd had to drop out since her parents weren't alive to pay tuition for her anymore.

Then she met ‘the person of her dreams’ not long after. Percy’s Dad, who was apparently the ‘most beautiful person’ Mom had ever laid eyes on, ‘in heart and soul’.

Percy was pretty sure that was a load of bull, considering dear old Dad had gotten Mom pregnant with Percy and left maybe a week after he was born. Real father of the year material, that one.

He guessed it worked out in the end, seeing as Mom told Percy she was a lesbian about three years ago. So if he did still have a present Dad, there would've been a divorce not long after that.

Silver linings…?

He dropped his bags off in his room. His kind of girly room.

There was makeup he only ever used when he wanted to look nice at home, an actually decent selection of hair care products, clothes that weren't all a size too big or otherwise ‘ugly’, and of course the furniture was bright colored wood and the sheets and other accents were all pastel pink. He liked pink, even if it was a ‘girly’ color.

After leaving his unopened bags next to his bed, Percy walked on leaden feet into the kitchen/dining room combo their apartment had and practically sank into the chair he always sat in. One of four.

“How was the trip home, meu docinho?”

“It was okay, mãe,” Percy said honestly.

“Nobody bothered you?” Mom asked, her demeanor going from gentle and caring to a bit firmer.

Percy winced. “Nobody,” he promised. “Just stares. That's it.”

Mom sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Well… That's good,” she begrudged. “If they'd given me more notice I'd have picked you up, but they should've sent you home with a chaperone - they're a private school for Pete’s sake!”

Percy hummed, nonplussed as he thanked Mom for the plate of four cookies she gave him. He bit into one. Perfect. “Well, maybe they wanted me to go missing,” he said bitterly. “Thought it'd be karma for Nancy.” He sighed. “Mom, I—”

“I know you didn't, Percy,” Mom said with a sad smile. She had a bit of a resigned look to her eyes as she washed her hands and dried them off. “It's just… What happens. People blame you.”

Percy grimaced. “And then they say you're spoiling me,” he said bitterly. He stared at the cookies, wishing they'd have an answer. Being cookies, all they could do was be tasty. Well, not the worst they could have offered. He took another bite, enjoying the warm and sweet dessert.

Mom sighed. “In a lot of cases like this… Maybe that wouldn't be off,” she said as she sat down across from him with her own plate. “A lot of good-looking people use their looks to do bad things.”

“I don't,” Percy said fiercely. “I… I won't. Never. I… I'm not like that. I…”

“I know, Percy,” Mom said gently as she put a hand over one of Percy’s, gently rubbing the knuckles with her thumb. “You're not like that. I've seen what you're like. I know you. You're a lot like Di…”

Di. His Father, whose full name he and Mom didn't know. Mom didn't usually talk about him…

“What, people blamed him for things all because he was good-looking?” Percy asked, confused.

Mom nodded sadly. “Yes… Di was sweet, gentle, funny… and a lot more honest than most people thought. I could see how caring Di was, but… Also sad. Like you,” she said sweetly, gently caressing Percy’s face. “People always think you're in the wrong. That you need to be the one to take responsibility when others hurt you.”

Percy grimaced. Well… If that was the case, maybe Dad could get a bit of slack. Percy hated it when people blamed him for the things other people did or tried to do to him. It wasn't fair. It was wrong. But they did it anyway.

“Grover turned on me,” Percy said with a sigh of bitter acceptance. “Just… Said I was lying about what I told Nancy. But I wasn't. I really just told her to ‘go far away’ and she… Lost it. I don't know. And now everyone blames me. As if somehow I forced her.”

Mom patted his cheek. “Well, I have an idea. How about you try a getaway this summer?”

“A getaway?” Percy asked skeptically.

Mom nodded. “A camp. I'll tell you about it on the drive, but it's in Long Island. I can take you tomorrow, if you want?”

Percy grimaced. “Do… Do you not want me around?” He asked weakly.

Mom chuckled. “Percy, I'll always love having you at home,” she reassured him. “But I've been looking at this Camp ever since you told me that Nancy turned on you. I think you can make some real friends here. It's full of people a lot like you.”

Percy stiffened. “...Special ed kids?” He asked. “Mãe… I want to be normal.”

Mom winced. “I… I know, Percy. And I'm sorry, but it's… It's not working out, so I just… I wanted to try something that might. You've been really hesitant, but you… Well, you're really harsh on yourself for your disabilities, and I think it's made you reject the idea of making friends who have them.”

Percy opened his mouth to deny it, but the words didn't come out. As always, he couldn't make himself lie to Mom.

…Yeah, he didn't want to make friends with disabled kids. For a lot of reasons. Him wanting to be seen as normal was just one of them - he also really didn't want to be grouped together with disabled kids since… Since it meant there'd be something else to mock him for.

That, and people inevitably said the same things.

‘You’re too pretty to be autistic.’

‘You’re so organized, you can't have ADHD.’

‘You’re too smart to have autism.’

And so on. Even a couple of the other disabled kids had given him dubious looks whenever he was in the same room as them after he got overstimulated or had a panic attack. The kinds of issues he couldn't just bottle up and pretend he didn't have, because they caused him to have a literal meltdown.

It was annoying and made him feel so pathetic and completely invalidated. At this point he was starting to wonder how he'd gotten the diagnoses in the first place, because besides his Mom and the man who'd tested him, it was like nobody in the world believed him when he said he struggled with things.

Even his teachers - down to Mr. Brunner - said he needed to ‘apply himself’ and ‘stop having his head in the clouds’.

“...Fine,” he conceded. “I'll try it out.”

Mom squeezed his hands. “Thank you, Percy,” she said gratefully. “You know… How about I go get us some ice cream? Do you still like black raspberry flavor?”

Percy grinned. “Of course,” he answered.

“Sounds like a plan. I'll grab you a tub,” Mom said cheerily as she got up and ruffled his hair. “Don't eat all the cookies while I'm out!”

“No promises!” Percy shot back while Mom laughed and headed out to the hallway to get her keys and go pick up the ice cream.

After he heard the door close, Percy sighed and deflated a bit.

Camp. He was going to a Camp. Specifically, a Camp for special ed kids.

Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. He doubted he'd make friends - honestly he sincerely doubted it - but if it made Mom feel better then he could give it a shot.

He was kind of over worrying about his own happiness by now. He'd come to accept he just… didn't get that. He had to pretend to be happy so that people wouldn't just mock and invalidate him and tell him he was ‘looking for attention’ or ‘being out of order’ or whatever.

He slipped a hand in the front pocket of his sweater, gently rubbing the cool metal item inside. Pepper spray. Mom made him keep some on him ever since he'd started to be harassed and groped.

It had felt ridiculous and shameful at first, but then he took solace in it after using it to stop a boy who was trying to pull his shirt off. And then he started training in self defense - which went okay for about six months before it became overwhelming and the gossip made him start to cry when nobody was looking.

That was when he started keeping the other item in his pocket. Earbuds. They didn't connect to anything, but if he put them in then the whispering voices around him were harder to hear. It helped make it easier to ignore them, even though then people started to act like he was being rude and started regularly gesturing for him to take his earbuds out so they could belittle him for that.

Eventually, he stopped taking his earbuds out.

It was like no matter what he did or didn't do, he was going to get blamed. He was the problem. He was in the wrong. It drove him crazy.

Percy sighed and took a few more cookies from the wire rack on the stovetop and headed to his room, sitting on his bed and focusing on eating.

Whatever this Camp had in store, he really hoped Mom was right this time. That things would actually be different, unlike how it had been with each new school ever since Percy’s appearance had become an issue.

Maybe if he was lucky there would be an ‘unfortunate accident’ and he'd get a big scar on his face that'd ‘ruin his beauty forever’. Would that stop people from staring? From judging? From harassing him?

He felt his stomach sour.

Or would they say he asked for it? That he let it happen so he could get more attention? That he did it to mock ‘the uglies’?

Percy cursed when he crushed a cookie in his hand. He sighed and used the paper towels he kept in his room to wipe his hand off and clean up the mess, salvaging what he could and tossing the soiled paper towel in the little garbage can by his bed.

Bitterly, he couldn't help thinking they were right to hate him. To want to place the blame on him. To throw him under the bus.

Privileged. He was privileged, and immensely so. He knew that… He did. He was a boy, and he was pretty. And that meant he was ‘luckier’, so he should be happy because people always wanted to give him things and make him happy.

In exchange for something, his thoughts told him acidly. There's always a catch. Always something they want to take from you. They feel like they're owed something in exchange for their kindness and gifts.

“Aren't they?” He said weakly as a tear fell onto his plate. “If all I have are my looks.”

You have more than that, his thoughts said sharply. You're smart. You're hard-working. You're kind.

“I’m lucky,” he said aloud, voice shaking as more tears fell. “That's it. Lucky. They're probably fudging my grades so I'll pass, and… And I'm supposed to be kind. Because if I'm mean, I'm just a bitch.”

Why not be the bitch? Better than being mocked and targeted for something that isn't your fault.

“Shut up,” he told his thoughts miserably as he munched on a piece of the broken cookie. It was salty from where a tear had landed on it. It was hard to swallow. “I… I deserve it. I do. I have to.”

You don't.

“I do,” he said firmly. “That's why I do this… Dress like this,” he said disgustedly as he pushed the plate aside and got up to glare hatefully at his reflection in the tall mirror on the inside of his door. At the baggy, ugly clothes. “In clothes I hate. So they can't say I'm asking for it.”

They say it anyway. The clothes have nothing to do with it.

“I wear these… stupid glasses,” Percy sobbed, tearing them off his face and angrily throwing them at the bed. They bounced off and landed on the floor with a soft thud. “I keep pepper spray and wear earbuds… I do everything right, don't I? So… So it's…” He sobbed.

It was him. His personality. His face. They were the problem. They were the reasons people hated him. The reasons they hurt him.

“It's all my fault,” he sobbed to his reflection. His hair was coming loose, curls now truly framing his face. Even with tears streaming down his face and the way the pain he felt was contorting his expression…

He was pretty. Beautiful.

“I hate you,” he sobbed to the reflection that offered no response. “I hate you so much… Why… Why did you have to look like this… why couldn't I just be normal?”

Half an hour later, when Sally Jackson returned, she found her son on his bed, fast asleep. His eyes were swollen and red, and his hair tie was lying on the floor against the door, as if thrown there. His glasses were lying at the foot of his bed.

The floor was damp near the entrance… He'd definitely been crying.

She pursed her lips as she felt for her son, and she placed the small bag of pink candy on his nightstand.

“It's okay, meu docinho… I promise you'll find people that believe in you at Camp,” she said hoarsely as she gently brushed Percy’s curls away from his face. “People who understand you… I promise.”

She just hoped Percy could forgive her for keeping secrets… And for being unable to ease his pain.

Chapter Text

CW: Disturbing Imagery

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

II: Camp Half-Blood

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

June 4th, 2005

In Transit

“Mngh?!”

“You awake, sleepyhead?” Mom asked, chuckling.

Percy groaned as he pinched at the bridge of his nose. He always nodded off in car rides. It drove him mad, since usually it was just nice to watch the scenery go by - even if the scenery was just a bunch of buildings and water and stuff.

Heck, he'd even taken a shower to wake himself up when he got out of bed. But the at-dawn wakeup and everything had left him exhausted.

“How much longer?” He asked, yawning.

“Not too long,” Mom said. She gave Percy a brief glance, concern on her face. She focused on driving, of course, but evidently Percy was still a concern for her.

“Mmm… You said you wanted to talk about stuff?” Percy asked, reaching down and pulling an apple out of the snack bag they'd prepared. Maybe munching on it would keep him awake. He grimaced at the sour taste, but it looked like a Granny Smith was just what the doctor ordered.

Mom sighed. “Yes,” she said. “About the Camp… And you.”

“Okay…”

“Well… While a lot of the kids there have ADHD, that's not what I was talking about for what you'd have in common,” she said carefully as she flipped a blinker and they merged left.

“What, do we all wear ugly clothes?” Percy asked sarcastically.

Mom rolled her eyes. “No, Percy… But they are demigods.”

He blinked. “Demi what?”

“Demigods,” Mom said. “Sorry, just… Ripping off the bandaid. But, uh… Di wasn't… Human. Di was a god. Er, well… A goddess.”

Percy blinked. “I… Wait, so I don't have a Dad? Di was a woman the whole time?” Mom nodded. “Why not tell me?”

Mom sighed. “Because… Well, she's still your biological… Father… Ish. It's weird. The gods are strange,” she admitted.

“Gods. Plural. So… So there's more. Di isn't, like, capital ‘G’ God?”

Mom shook her head. “No. Di is a Greek goddess,” Mom answered. “Or… Maybe a god. They can take whatever form they like. All I know is that she called herself Di and that she was a goddess.”

“Oh, well that's not secretive of her at all,” Percy snarked.

Mom chuckled. “Maybe… But she isn't a transgender woman, and I didn't ever want to lie about you. That's why I never called her your father.”

“I'd thought that was weird,” he muttered. “But… So, this Camp… They're all her kids? My… Siblings?” He asked, struggling to wrap his head around the idea of having a bunch of brothers and sisters he'd never met.

“Well, some of them might be,” Mom confessed. “I don't know. It depends on how often Di consorts with mortals. The gods can split their essence, so you might even have some close in age. But… Well, it'll be a while before you know. The director told me that the gods often take time to Claim their children.”

“Uh… Huh,” Percy said, blinking. “Well, goddess or not, she sounds great.”

Mom sighed. “Percy… I know you don't have the best opinion of Di,” she said. He winced, feeling guilty. “And… And I don't wholly blame you. But she was sweet. Kind. Gentle. And she really did go through a lot of the same struggles as you,” she told Percy. “She was a beautiful woman… unspeakably beautiful. The gods are just like that, apparently. And she passed a lot of that beauty onto you.”

Percy glared at his apple core before dropping it in the little garbage bag they kept between the seats and retrieving a wet wipe for his sticky hands. “So it's Di’s fault I’m…” He looked at his reflection in the mirror and sighed.

It's her fault I’ve got this evil face, he thought to himself.

“So… What is this Camp really for?” He asked to distract himself.

“To train you to protect yourself,” Mom explained. “Against monsters.”

“Monsters… Like what, Medu—”

“Don't say the name,” Mom warned. He gave her an incredulous look. “I'm sorry, Percy, but in this world names have power.”

“Uh… But I said it before and there were no issues,” Percy pointed out.

“Before now you didn't know you were a demigod,” Mom said in kind. “That changes things. Your unawareness protected you, and while you're powerful, you're not strong enough that Monsters can easily sense you when you're around regular mortals like me and your classmates.”

“Ah… Okay,” Percy said, slowly catching on. It was like he'd been in tutorial mode for a video game, then. “So… What, I've not seen any monsters?”

Mom shook her head a little. “There was one,” she said, her voice low. “Most Mortals can't see monsters or anything else from the mythical world - an invisible veil called the Mist hides it from us. But… But some are like me, and we can't be fooled by it. Actually, that's part of what drew Di to me.”

“Huh… Who was the monster?”

Mom went silent for a long moment. “...The subway, when we first came to Manhattan,” she said quietly. “Do you remember?”

Percy stilled.

…A raspy voice, beckoning him over while Mom read a paper…

…A leathery and wrinkled hand that seemed strangely gray, and fingernails like black talons…

…A mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, a jaw that opened just a bit too wide…

…A dark, cruel laugh that turned into a snarl of distaste when Mom snatched him back…

…Learning he’d been missing for two hours, but feeling as if he'd walked away for only a couple minutes…

“...Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Yeah, I remember. And I'll never forget that.”

Mom gave him a sad look before she nodded. “Camp will teach you how to detect monsters - how to protect yourself from them,” she told Percy. “It isn't easy, but they'll make sure that when you're an adult and your power’s grown you'll be able to handle yourself.”

Percy hummed. “Power… What can I even do?” He asked.

“I don't know,” Mom admitted. “Every demigod is different, even among their siblings. Since mortals can't pass the protective barrier on the Campgrounds, I’ve never had the chance to meet a demigod other than yourself.”

“How… How do you know so much about this place, then?” Percy asked. “Did Di tell you?”

“A little,” Mom agreed. “But most of it I learned from Grover and Mr. Brunner.”

Percy blinked. Brunner and Grover? What did they have to do with this? “Are… Wait, you've never met… What are they then?” He asked.

“You'll see when you get there. There's a lot to all of this, Percy,” she explained as they slowly wound through a road surrounded by forest. “Hm… I think we're almost there.”

Percy didn't see anything that was tipping him off about the presence of a magic demigod Camp, but he figured Mom would know better. Honestly he was still reeling from the fact Grover and Brunner knew about this ‘Camp’ place. He frowned.

“Did… Did Grover only become friends with me because I’m a demigod?” Mom’s hands tightened their grip on the wheel. “Oh, well. That's just great then,” he scathed, not upset at Mom so much as Grover. Mom had her reasons. Grover…

Grover was starting to feel like someone he really didn't want to talk to anymore.

“They'll explain everything to you when we get there, meu docinho,” Mom said, sounding earnest in a way that Percy couldn't fault her for. Like he always said, his Mom was one of the best. It was the people around her who sucked. He smiled when she squeezed his shoulder briefly before returning her focus to driving.

“Are there any options like… other than Camp?” Percy asked. “Not gonna knock it before I try it,” he added hastily at Mom’s questioning look, “just… Well, if things don't go well… If I need to be able to protect myself…”

Mom’s expression became pensive as she stared at the road. Percy knew not to interrupt her. This was her ‘I’m thinking’ face.

After a few moments, they started to approach a really big hill. “There's the Camp,” Mom said. “See that tree at the top? That's the boundary.”

“Huh… Not very big.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “It's a magic boundary, Percy. Invisible to our eyes, but to monsters it may as well be an opaque wall,” she explained. “They can’t break it down no matter what they throw at it.”

“Huh…”

“It's also part of what separates Camp from the other options,” Mom said, sighing. “I don't know all of them, but Artemis has her Hunters. Of course, I don't know that she’d accept you, since you're a boy. But who knows? Hippolytus was a Hunter.”

“Hmm… Maybe,” Percy begrudged. “But I still want to date and… You know, have girlfriends,” he mumbled, feeling his cheeks warm. Mom laughed and poked his cheek, causing him to huff. “So, probably not that.”

“Fair enough,” Mom conceded.

They pulled to a stop about ten feet from the pine tree.

“Here we are,” Mom said, her voice sounding thick with emotion.

“Here we are,” Percy agreed in a quiet voice.

They both got out and Mom helped Percy get his suitcases and duffel bag out of the trunk. Thankfully, he hadn't unpacked from yesterday, so the late night and early morning had been easy to prep for.

Mom gave him a tight hug. “Be safe, alright?” She murmured into his shoulder.

“I will,” Percy promised.

Mom hummed and pulled away, gently tucking a loose curl behind his ear. “I really hope you find people that understand, Percy,” she said softly. “There are people who will respect you. Who will treat you right and not betray you.”

Percy smiled, unable to help feeling a bit hopeful thanks to Mom’s own hope. “Yeah… Yeah, maybe,” he agreed.

“Have a good time. If you need to leave, ask the directors… I'll pick you up if it's not working out, and we'll look into our options. Okay?” Mom said softly. She grimaced, looking pained. “Though, not sure how many places offer self-defense against monsters…”

Percy grinned. “I think I saw some courses like that at Yancy,” he remarked cheekily.

Mom laughed and patted his cheek before hugging him again. “Alright… Bye, Percy. Eu te amo,” she said.

“Te amo também, mãe,” Percy murmured into her shoulder, feeling tears prick at his eyes while his chest contracted painfully. He hugged her as tightly as he could before they separated and he grabbed hold of the suitcase handles.

“Have a good time, Percy,” Mom said just before he turned and headed to the tree.

Percy was hesitant at first, but after a moment he passed the tree and his eyes widened.

The previous sight of nothing but greenery was replaced by various buildings that all seemed to be Ancient Greek architecture. There was a large farmhouse, a huge farming field, what looked like a stadium, tents…

“Woah…”

“Huh. New camper?” Said a surprised voice. Percy started and turned to the source - a tanned girl with blonde curls. Her features weren't easy to pay attention to since her gray eyes felt as piercing as a knife.

“Um… I think so?” Percy asked, shrugging weakly. “My Mom just dropped me off…”

The girl looked him up and down, causing Percy to feel apprehensive. Was she sizing him up?

“No monsters followed… Guess you're not the one I'm waiting for,” she said, seeming disappointed and resigned.

“Uh… Sorry?”

She shrugged. “It's whatever. Come on, let's get you introduced to the Camp director and activities director,” she told Percy, gesturing for him to follow as she turned and began walking toward the big farmhouse.

Percy gave one last backward glance to where the car was slowly receding and sighed before heading after the blonde girl.

The farmhouse was big and smelled like grapes. It was odd.

At the table on the porch was a man with black, curly hair and an equally unruly beard. He had sunglasses, a Hawaiian shirt, and sandals on… But somehow, Percy felt like his nerves were on high alert. This guy was… Dangerous?

Sitting across from him was Mr. Brunner. Well, Mom did say he would be here.

“Chiron, Mr. D, we have a new Camper,” the blonde girl told them.

The guy in the Hawaiian shirt seemed to glance at Percy before deciding he wanted to go back to what he was doing - playing cards.

Mr. Brunner looked up and seemed a bit surprised. “Why hello, Percy,” he said politely.

“Mr. Brunner,” Percy greeted as he let go of the handles of his suitcases. He was on the porch, now, and felt a very… odd energy around him. It was kind of unsettling.

“You two know each other?” The blonde girl asked.

Brunner smiled at her. “Percy was a student of mine while I was undercover at Yancy,” he explained before turning to Percy. “You can call me Chiron from now on, Percy.”

Chiron… Percy frowned as his memory of the legendary teacher of heroes came to mind.

“Aren't you missing, like… An entire horse?” He asked.

Chiron smirked. “It's magically concealed in this wheelchair,” he said, patting the side of the wheelchair. “Convenient for a mortal disguise. Thank you for bringing Percy up to us, Annabeth.”

The blonde - Annabeth - nodded. She gave Percy a curious look. “Don't suppose you know who your divine parent is?” She asked.

Percy flushed and tensed. “Well… No, I don't,” he admitted.

“That's not surprising,” Chiron said sadly. “The gods tend to keep their identities private from their mortal partners.”

Percy hummed, feeling a bit relieved that he wasn't the only one. “How does anyone ever know, then? Mom told me the gods are still kicking and continue to have demigod kids, but didn't say how people learn who their godly parent is.”

“They claim you,” Annabeth said simply. She patted his shoulder. “You’ll want to get comfortable in Cabin Eleven, Pretty Boy.”

Percy bristled. “Don't call me that,” he snapped.

Annabeth's eyes rose. “Alright then,” she muttered. “Why are the new ones always so moody?”

“And you weren't?” Chiron asked mildly. Annabeth scowled while he chuckled.

Percy sighed. “Cabin… Eleven?” He asked.

“One Cabin for each of the twelve Olympians,” Chiron explained.

Percy frowned. “Uh… Hm. Wouldn't that make, like… what, three or four of them obsolete? Her… Uh, wait. Mom said names have power. Should I not…?”

The man who Percy guessed was Mr. D gave him an appraising look. “Quick thinking, kid. Best not to say them lightly, but with the gods it just means they'll give you a glance at best,” he said boredly.

Percy frowned. Grapes… Mr. D… Wait…

He blinked. “Huh… you're Di— the god of wine and revelry,” he corrected himself.

Annabeth whistled. “You're quick. Catching on like that, if your divine parent was your Mom I’d think you're one of my siblings,” she said thoughtfully. Percy gave her a bewildered look. “Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena.”

Percy slowly shook her outstretched hand. “Percy Jackson… and it still might be. Mom’s lesbian,” he added, blushing.

“Doesn't mean much with us gods,” Mr. D said, though he seemed to be in an oddly cheerful mood. “Dear old Dad has taken the form of animals to have children.”

Percy grimaced. “That's a mental image and a half…”

Annabeth patted his back. “Welcome to the mythical world,” she said brightly. “Anyway… Some of the cabins don't mean much, yeah. Cabins one, two, three, and eight are all mostly honorary.”

Percy frowned. “Okay… But, uh… Seeing as you said your Mom’s Athena…”

“We sprout from her head just like she did from Zeus’,” Annabeth explained.

Percy tilted his head. “I… Yeah, okay. Sure,” he said, sighing. That felt like a headache and a half. Literally. “I'm guessing one of the honorary cabins is for Hera…?”

“Correct,” Chiron agreed. “The others are for Zeus, Poseidon, and Artemis,” he said politely.

Percy rubbed his temples. “Okay… Wait. I thought Zeus had, like. A bunch of kids. Did Hera finally convince him to… Uh… Be more conservative?” He asked, trying to not get zapped by the King of the Gods.

Mr. D laughed, seeming very much amused. “That's golden. If only - there's bets on that happening every century,” he said jovially. “Unfortunately, no - Father was made to stop for different reasons.”

“The children of the sons of Kronos - the ‘Big Three’ - are too powerful,” Chiron explained, subduing his own smile. “The brothers came to an agreement and formed a pact on the River Styx to never have demigod children again, some sixty years ago.”

Percy hummed. “World War Two… Why do I have a feeling the gods are a lot more involved in that than anyone knows?” He groused.

“You sure you're not an Athena kid?” Annabeth asked. “Haven't had someone catch on this quick in months.”

“Uh… I don't know?” Percy shrugged weakly. “I've just… I dunno…” He sighed. “It's complicated. Mom didn't have a lot to say about… Uh, my other Mom. All I know is that she called herself ‘Di’.”

Chiron glanced at Mr. D. “Any… Escapades to speak of?”

Mr. D scoffed. “I don't take the form of a woman when I'm interested in a mortal,” he said, sounding affronted. “And besides, I feel no pull from the boy. He's not mine.”

Percy grimaced. “Well, guess that leaves it to one out of…” He frowned. “No, not seven. Can the other gods have kids? Like… The ones who aren't Olympians.”

“Minor gods indeed consort with mortals from time to time,” Chiron agreed. “Most of their demigod children don't gather enough power to be at risk, however.”

Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd have mussed up his hair if it wouldn't make his looks stand out even more. “I'm getting a migraine. This is too much,” he groaned. “How do you even keep track of all this?” He asked.

“Sometimes you just don't question it,” Annabeth said sagely. “Or pick it up along the way. Come on, I'll get you settled in at Cabin Eleven, and then we can do a tour.”

“Yippee, a tour,” Percy said, feigning excitement. Annabeth clapped his shoulder and he huffed, but before he could grab his suitcases she'd pushed the handles down, picked them up, and started walking. “Hey!”

Percy stumbled after her, not having time to excuse himself as he struggled to keep up. “Holy… How do you carry those like that?” He asked, shocked.

“My Mom’s a war goddess. I have enhanced strength. Plus, I train,” Annabeth said simply.

Percy huffed as he followed her, having to do a brisk walk to keep up with her casual stride. “So… What do we do here?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Train, mostly. There's a lot of activities that are more recreational, but most of them help you learn how to protect yourself,” she explained.

As Percy looked around, he noticed everyone was wearing orange shirts and jeans or shorts.

“...Please tell me there isn't a uniform,” he asked.

“Yep! You can use sweaters instead, but an orange Camp top is the way to go,” Annabeth said cheerfully. “Lots of us stay year-round, so they have more than just summer wear.”

Percy grimaced. “I'm definitely getting a sweater,” he said firmly. He was not going to show off his body in a new place. Even if it meant he cooked himself like he was on a grill. “So… Why year-round?”

Annabeth winced. “Not… Not all of us have family to go home to. Or they're too far away,” she said evasively.

Percy nodded. “That's fair,” he mused. Annabeth seemed to relax pretty visibly. “I don't see a lot of adults… Do we leave when we’re eighteen or something?”

Annabeth tilted her head back and forth. “Closer to nineteen or twenty,” she said. “It can vary. My friend Luke - he's the Counselor for Cabin Eleven, which is Hermes by the way - this or the next summer is his last.”

“Huh… Wait, why would I be going in the Hermes Cabin if we don't know my divine parent?” He asked, lost.

“God of travelers and wayfarers,” Annabeth explained. “He takes everyone who doesn't have a home until they do - including the Unclaimed.”

Percy blinked. “Why… Why not just have a thirteenth Cabin for the Unclaimed specifically?” He asked, confused.

Annabeth slowed until she stopped, staring at Percy.

“...Did I say something stupid?”

“...No,” she said after a long moment. He scrambled to keep up when she started walking for a moment. “That just… Well, nobody ever suggested that before.”

“What? Why?”

“Because they're afraid of making demands of the gods,” Annabeth explained. She seemed… Odd. Almost excited? They were rapidly approaching a rather plain looking brown and yellow cabin. “But maybe I can ask Chiron…”

“You seem weirdly excited.”

“Ah… Well, I like architecture,” Annabeth confessed. “So… If I can help build it…”

Percy smirked. “Alright, fair enough. Make sure it's extra snazzy, then,” he joked.

Annabeth snorted. “Deal,” she said with a matching grin. She sighed when they reached the Cabin. “Alright… Here goes nothing.”

“Wait, what are you—”

Percy jumped when she kicked the door open. “Look alive, Cabin Eleven! You got a newbie!”

Percy felt his face burn. “Oh, you bitch,” he hissed under his breath as he sheepishly followed after her. “I hate you.”

Annabeth just grinned at him, clearly unashamed.

“Huh… Newbie?” Said an older boy with a large scar on his right cheek. “Hey there. I'm Luke Castellan, Cabin Counselor.”

“Uh… Percy Jackson,” Percy replied, shaking Luke’s hand. It was big - then again, Luke was tall and an adult. It shouldn't have been so surprising.

“Well, Percy - girls are on the left, and I think there's even a spare bed for you,” Luke said brightly.

Percy felt his face burn and Annabeth fell into a fit of giggles as she set his suitcases down and covered her mouth, bent double.

“Uh… Did I say something funny?” Luke asked, nervously looking between Percy and Annabeth.

Percy pursed his lips. He decided it was really just not worth it to get snappy on his first day. “I'm not a girl,” he said stiffly. “I'm a boy. Percy is short for ‘Perseus’.”

Luke blinked. “I– oh, uh– shit, uh–” He rubbed the back of his head, seeming embarrassed.

“You're a boy?” Asked a girl from a nearby bed on the left. She had the same sharp features as Luke. “Yeah, right.”

Percy’s cheeks felt even hotter. “I am,” he said firmly. “I just… look… like this,” he muttered, his brief temper petering out. He sighed. “Look, can I just… Where do I put my things?” He asked helplessly.

“Uh… Here, just follow me,” Luke said as he turned and went further into the Cabin. Percy and Annabeth followed, the former easily lifting his suitcases again.

Percy felt more than a little disgruntled when Luke gestured to an open patch of floor against a wall on the right side of the Cabin. But considering all the bags he saw around the Cabin, he guessed they were overrun.

While they set his bags down, Percy shot Annabeth a significant look and she nodded, clearly getting his meaning that he was now desperate for a proper Cabin for the Unclaimed. This was just… Not okay. It would be uncomfortable and unsanitary, and Percy was not up for that.

“Be careful, by the way,” Annabeth said warningly under her breath. “Hermes is also the god of thieves.”

Percy grimaced as he took a glance around. He definitely didn't like how some kids were looking at his bags. “Well… We’ll see how that goes,” he muttered.

Worst case scenario, he'd make them give his stuff back. He just really hoped it didn't come to that.

“So… Now what?” Percy asked, looking between Luke and Annabeth.

“Luke here—”

“Annabeth will give you a tour,” Luke said, cutting the daughter of Athena off.

“What? But I’m busy!”

“With?”

“Border patrol,” Annabeth sniffed.

“Connor, Travis!” Luke called out. Two identical heads poked out of a bed. “Take border patrol duty for Annabeth.”

“Deal!” Both boys said without complaint as they got wicked grins and booked it.

“Uhh, what—”

“They're probably gonna sneak out and smuggle stuff in,” Annabeth said dismissively. Percy blinked, surprised at how nonchalant she was about it.

“Alright then…”

“So, newbie! Where to start?”

Percy frowned. “Um… I don't know, honestly,” he mumbled.

Annabeth gently punched his shoulder. “I know. I'm just teasing you,” she said lightly. “Come on, it's almost lunch time. We can check out the other Cabins and then make our way to the Mess Hall.”

Percy relaxed and followed.

“See you later, Percy,” Luke said brightly.

“Uh… Yeah! Later,” Percy replied in kind. Luke was nice, he decided. Hopefully he'd stay nice, but that remained to be seen.

He almost tripped on his way out and frowned at the creaking stair that had shaken him up. Upon second glance, Cabin Eleven was… Well, it was in really rough shape. The paint was peeling, the caduceus on the front was missing a snake, and the wood was cracked all over the place.

“That's… Ah, um…”

“Beaten up? It happens. Come on, we'll circle it,” Annabeth said.

Percy followed, thankfully able to keep up a lot easier since he wasn't bogged down by his duffel bag. They pretty quickly saw the next Cabin on their left - Cabin Nine.

Annabeth went over each Cabin in a way that was clear and fairly easy to understand. Nine was for Hephaestus, hence why it had gray paint and had a lot of metal, though the kids apparently spent most of their time either in the Camp forge or messing with woodcarving in the forest. Odd, but fair enough in Percy’s mind.

Seven was bright yellow and kind of painful to look at. The lyre symbol was a dead giveaway that it was for Apollo’s children, at least. Apparently they were all really good at medicine, archery, poetry, music, or really any one of the numerous things that he held a domain over. Archery was the most common, though, which he supposed made sense.

Cabin Five looked terrifying. All spikes and rusty red smears that were so dark he wasn't sure if they were paint or blood. When Annabeth warned him about the possibility of mines, Percy nearly had a heart attack and gave the Cabin a very wide berth. Inwardly, he wondered why anyone would ever want to have a kid with Ares if their children would end up in a literal deathtrap.

Cabins Three, One, and Two were all passed over pretty quickly. They looked grand, but foreboding, which he could accept made sense considering they were for Poseidon, Zeus, and Hera. Annabeth passed over Zeus’ fairly quickly, which Percy found curious, but not curious enough to badger her over.

Cabin Four was nice, at least. Really earthy and green, and the roof looked like it had a tree sprouting out of it. When Annabeth told him the tree was inside the Cabin and supported the roof, he couldn't help thinking that it had to look gorgeous and was honestly quite fitting for children of Demeter.

The very gray and bronze Cabin Six was for Athena, so of course Annabeth was exceptionally proud as she told him about the SMART board inside, the tricked out desks, and the holographic table in the center. She promised to show him one day, because Percy couldn't help admiring how cool that sounded. Evidently he'd egged her on or something, based on the stunning and dazzling smile she gave him. It really brought out her beauty.

Cabin Eight was also only seen briefly, but Artemis’ honorary Cabin - which evidently housed her Hunters if they ever visited - was gorgeous. It was a silver so brilliant it was practically white in the daytime, and he couldn't help thinking that under moonlight it would look perfect.

Cabin Ten was just his style, he thought. Pastel yet demure, both beautiful and warm in ways he couldn't describe. He felt curiosity surge inside of him and couldn't help wondering what the children of Aphrodite were like? Annabeth seemed to have complicated feelings about the love goddess, but Percy just found himself wanting to get to know the demigods who lived there.

Lastly was Cabin Twelve - Dionysus, and the wine red and deep purple colors of the Cabin were quite fitting. Evidently he only had two demigod sons - full-brothers named Castor and Pollux. It made Cabin Twelve the least occupied of them all, excluding the honorary ones. Percy wasn't sure if that was sad because of the loneliness or nice because they at least had their godly parent at Camp.

After that, it was time to go to the Mess Hall. If only they weren't waylaid by a very aggressive looking brunette.

Chapter Text

CW: Bullying

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

III: Diets and Details

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

June 4th, 2005

Camp Half-Blood

“What do you want, Clarisse?” Annabeth asked testily.

Clarisse was a very tall, broad-shouldered girl with a chipped tooth, scars, tanned skin, and short brown hair that looked like it desperately needed to be cleaned up. She also had a black denim vest over her Camp-mandated tank top, which really kind of contrasted with her blue denim jeans.

“I hear we've got a newbie,” Clarisse said, smirking. Behind her were a few other kids who seemed just as brutish and admittedly buff. Not athletic and lithe like Annabeth and Luke - buff. Like all they ever did was fight and cause trouble.

“Uh… Hi, that's me,” Percy said a little awkwardly. “Percy Jackson, nice to meet you?” He said, offering a hand.

He relaxed when Clarisse first took it, all smiles. But then she squeezed hard and he yelped in pain. He tried to yank his hand back but she didn't let go. “Ow! Y-you’re hurting me!” He objected, feeling tears prick at his eyes as he pulled helplessly, unable to budge his hand from her grip. He felt so… defenseless.

“Knock it off, Clarisse!” Annabeth snapped, shoving the brutish girl. Clarisse scowled as she let go when she was pushed backwards, but Percy’s hand was free. He winced, cradling it close.

“What did I do to you?!” He asked, slowly flexing his hand and gasping a bit at how his hand stung. He didn't think anything was broken, per se, but it still hurt. Maybe a fracture at worse? Or just heavily bruised. Clarisse’s hand had been like an iron vice.

“You won't last long, Prissy,” Clarisse growled. Her smile was taunting as she leaned a bit closer. “You've got a weak handshake.”

“Clarisse!” Annabeth shouted. She tried to shove the daughter of Ares back again, but no dice.

Percy glared at her over his crooked glasses. “Leave me alone,” he told her, putting as much emotion into his voice as he could.

Clarisse blinked. “...Whatever,” she muttered, turning around. “Come on. Let's go practice,” she told her siblings. They looked confused for a bit before slowly following after her, leaving Annabeth and Percy to tend to the latter’s very sore hand.

“Huh… Guess she's really busy,” Annabeth said distractedly. “Usually she'd go a lot further. Shove your head into a toilet or something.”

“Daughter of Ares?” Percy guessed. Annabeth gave him an apologetic look and he sighed. “Whatever. Just… can we do something about my hand? This hurts like crazy,” he said, holding up his aching right hand.

“Ah, yeah. Here,” Annabeth said, pulling a little vial full of gold liquid off of her belt. “Nectar - can't have too much at once, but if a demigod drinks it they'll heal up.”

Percy was dubious, but he accepted the vial and uncorked it before downing it. He flinched at the taste. “That… That's my Mom’s blueberry oatmeal cookies,” he said, disbelieving.

“Blueberry oatmeal? Alright then,” Annabeth said, giving him a weird look as she accepted the returned vial. “It always tastes like your favorite food or drink. Usually we have ambrosia in the infirmary - they look like brownies - but nectar doesn't take up space in the stomach, and it’s time for lunch.”

Percy felt how hollow his stomach was and couldn't help agreeing that lunch was a good idea. After admiring the way his hand didn't so much as throb anymore, he followed Annabeth through the Camp.

“There's some of the activities,” Annabeth said, gesturing to their left. “Archery, extreme rock climbing, foot races on the track - by the way, don't challenge a dryad to one. They're fast,” she warned, shaking her head a bit. “Menaces, those trees. Anyway, the strawberry fields are off that way. We sell them to keep up our finances for clothes, food, stuff like that. The Demeter kids and Mr. D’s sons both keep it in good shape.”

“Huh… What's that for?” Percy asked, gesturing to a sort of dilapidated looking track with broken down stands.

“Oh, that's the old chariot track,” Annabeth explained. “It was shut down before I came here, though. It was, uh… Well, someone died, so…”

“Yikes.”

“Very,” Annabeth agreed as they neared a large pavilion. “By the way, normally it doesn't matter where you sit, but during dinner you need to eat with your Cabin. So for now that means Cabin 11.”

“Will there be enough room?” Percy asked skeptically. “There wasn't even enough in the Cabin.”

Annabeth winced. “Well… Probably?” She said. “Honestly it isn't too big a deal. The main thing you wanna focus on tonight's the campfire.”

“The campfire? What, is it magic?”

“A little. But mostly it's nice for the sing-along and the s’mores… And the higher chance of being claimed,” Annabeth said with a grin that might've been meant to be inspiring.

“Why at the campfire?”

“Drama.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Percy grumbled as they went over to where a sort of… Buffet line was set up. It was kind of nice, actually.

He followed Annabeth’s suit and took a plate, following her down the line. For his plate, he took some of the salad blend, grilled chicken, apple chunks, and baby carrots. Annabeth gave him a bit of a weird look for getting a salad but didn't say anything about it as she had a much more hefty plate of spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread.

The strange part was when - after grabbing empty glasses - they didn't go to any kind of soda fountain, but a campfire.

“Uh… And why did you toss a perfectly good meatball into the fire?” Percy asked.

“It's an offering,” Annabeth explained. “You aren't expected to do it outside of dinner meals, but I usually send something up with my lunch. They just… The gods like the smell,” she said, shrugging.

“They like… The smell.”

Annabeth blushed. “Hey, I don't get it either, but Mr. D says it's something mortals and demigods just can't properly comprehend,” she said defensively. “And… Hey, maybe offering something to your divine parent might make them want to claim you sooner.”

Percy grumbled a bit about how moody the gods seemed to be before he sighed and stood there for a moment. After he sorted his thoughts out, he approached and dropped the grapefruit he'd grabbed into the fire.

Whoever you are, Di… Let me know soon? I've been curious to know about you all my life, even if I didn't like you. And now there's a lot more I don't know. I just… I just want answers.

After he watched a billow of almost pinkish smoke curl up into the air, he followed Annabeth to a picnic table that had a large gray ‘VI’ painted in the middle. Presumably the Athena table.

“Come on,” Annabeth said as she sat, patting the spot next to her. Tentatively, Percy complied.

“So… Why the empty glasses?”

Annabeth giggled. “Just ask for what you want. Watch,” she said before turning to her glass. “Sprite.”

A moment later, her cup filled with a clear fizzy drink that Percy could only assume was Sprite.

“Okay, that's pretty cool,” he admitted, grinning as he shook his head. The mythical world had magic. Fair enough. “Hmm… Apple juice,” he said decidedly. After a moment, his glass filled with a bright yellow liquid. He gave it a taste and smiled. “Nice. Perfect - and chilled, too!”

Annabeth nodded. “The glasses are magically chilled, and the mugs are magically heated,” she told him. After they each tucked into a few bites, she waved her fork at the salad. “So, I gotta ask. What's with the salad? You like. Just got here. Why not have a cheat day?”

Percy shrugged as he took another bite. “I have celiac,” he explained. “Usually I can have a little bit here and there? But unless it’s gluten-free, something like a plate of pasta would leave me nauseous, bloated, and even give me a rash.”

“Oh, wow. That's rough,” Annabeth said sympathetically. “I think if I had to stop eating gluten I'd die.”

Percy giggled. “I mean, it isn't so bad? The oatmeal cookies my Mom makes are the bomb, and she even figured out how to make gluten-free pizza dough when I was having a rough time. I've got all her recipes in here,” he said, tapping his temple.

Annabeth nodded. “Sounds good. Maybe I'll give it a shot someday,” she said thoughtfully.

Percy grinned. As they continued eating lunch, something came to mind. “So… got a question of my own.” Annabeth looked up and he had to fight to suppress a smirk when he saw her with spaghetti hanging out of her mouth. “Um- hm. Uh, well. You seem a bit distracted. Is everything okay?” He asked.

Annabeth sighed. “I… Guess?” She tapped her fork on the edge of her plate before taking a big drink of soda. She grimaced and coughed a bit.

“You guess?”

Annabeth scowled at his sarcasm. “Okay, sorry. Had a really bad night yesterday. Lost Capture the Flag to Clarisse,” she explained. At Percy's questioning look she elaborated. “It's not quite like regular Capture the Flag. We make new alliances over the week and play every Friday night. Usually it’s the same groups, but last time the Hephaestus kids switched sides. We got destroyed.”

“Ouch…”

“Yeah. You'll probably work with me a lot until you're claimed,” she continued. “The Hermes and Athena Cabins have had a longstanding alliance ever since Luke and I became Cabin counselors.”

“Hm… How long have you been here?” Percy asked curiously.

“About three years,” Annabeth answered, holding up her necklace. There were three distinct beads on it. A pine tree, a golden apple with a bite missing, and a pair of winged sandals. “The beads are given at the end of summer based on the biggest thing. My first was when the tree at the boundary appeared - it's… A personal story, though.”

Percy nodded. “Yeah, no worries,” he said, gently waving his hand. He took a sip of apple juice and thought about the other two beads. “An apple of discord?” He guessed. “And… Hermes’ sandals?”

“Good eye,” Annabeth said approvingly. “But only half marks. The apple is from the garden of the Hesperides. It was a quest given to Luke. But, uh. The quest failed - so don't ask him about it. The sandals are from the Stoll brothers, Connor and Travis. You saw them earlier. They're the first set of demigod twins Camp’s had in years.”

“Oh, dang,” Percy said, wide-eyed. “Guess they're rare for the gods?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Rare to get to Camp, really. Twice the demigod power in one household? Tends to make monsters swarm,” she said with a grimace. “They got lucky.”

Percy hummed. “Well… This summer hasn't even started yet, technically, so I guess we've got a ways to go?” He assumed.

“To figure out the bead?” He nodded. “Yeah, definitely. Though… There's a guess what it'll be.”

“What happened?”

Annabeth sighed, pushing her empty plate next to Percy’s. They both refilled their drinks - Percy after her once he realized there was a story to be had. “So… Look, there's a lot you don't know, so I'll start with simple stuff. First, we go to Olympus on the winter solstice,” Annabeth explained. “It's like… A mingling. Maybe some kids might even get claimed there if they're lucky. But this time, something happened. Zeus’ Master Bolt went missing.”

“His… What?” Percy was imagining a little zigzag of electricity, but had a feeling he was way off the mark.

“It's the symbol of his power,” Annabeth explained. “And the weapon he used way back in the Titanomachy and the Gigantomachy.”

“And it went… Missing. What the—”

Annabeth pushed a finger to Percy’s lips. “Shhh. Not too loud,” she warned. “Reminding the gods of it doesn't go well. They've been squabbling for months about it. It's just a good thing he isn't blaming Poseidon or Hades.”

“I… Okay. But why wouldn't he? Like, no offense to them, but the myths said they were at odds a lot,” he pointed out. “Not to mention, if they were involved on opposing sides in World War Two… Sounds like things haven't changed.”

“Because a god can't directly steal another god’s symbol of power,” Annabeth explained. “If Poseidon tried to take the bolt, he'd lose all his power and be no stronger than a mortal for half a century. The risk just wouldn't be worth it. They'd have to get a demigod child to steal it.”

“And they don't have any because of the pact,” Percy said as realization dawned. He nodded. “Alright. So… Who does Zeus suspect?”

“Right now? Either Ares or Hermes,” Annabeth admitted.

“His own sons?”

“He swallowed Metis - who was pregnant with my Mom - because he was afraid he'd be unseated like Kronos and Ouranos before him,” Annabeth pointed out. “Is it really that strange?”

“Well… No, I guess not,” Percy admitted. “But why specifically Ares or Hermes? What about Apollo or Dionysus?”

Annabeth arched an eyebrow. “Who would you first suspect of stealing your symbol of power? The god of war and god of thieves, or the god of music and god of wine?”

“...Touché.”

Annabeth smirked. “Well, still. It's caused tensions. Athena and Hera are trying to keep things civil, but there's only so much they can do until things boil over. Zeus has given them until the summer solstice to return it. If not… It's war.”

“That's… That's only, what, seventeen days?” Percy said, feeling queasy.

Annabeth nodded. “Exactly,” she said grimly. She sighed and sipped at her soda. “Sides are being taken… Hermes and Ares have made their own sides, too. Hera, Artemis, Apollo, and Athena side with Zeus, but Poseidon, Demeter, and Aphrodite are siding with Ares while Hephaestus and Dionysus have sided with Hermes. Hermes blames Ares and Ares blames Hermes and Zeus blames both of them. It's a fiasco.”

“It's giving me a headache,” Percy grumbled.

“Join the club.”

“So… what are they going to do?”

“The only thing they can… call for a quest,” Annabeth said plainly. “I kind of want to join so I can prove myself… Hey, if you get claimed and sent on it, take me with you?” She said, seeming like she was half-joking.

“Just make sure I get credit for the Unclaimed Cabin,” Percy said in kind. Annabeth grinned and gently punched his shoulder.

“You're not half bad, Jackson,” she said approvingly.

“Not half bad? Careful, you'll inflate my ego,” he teased.

“Oooh, true,” Annabeth said with a laugh. “Come on, I wanna show you the training grounds.”

Percy obliged, following her to the dropoff for their dishes and silverware before they started walking.

The training grounds were… Interesting.

There was a large set of two dirt fields that were each the size of a tennis court. Inside them were some pairs of kids dueling with what looked like real weapons. Maybe five groups total?

“Wanna give it a go?” Annabeth had teased.

“With what weapon?” Percy had asked. That was what led them to the equally interesting weapons shed.

“Hm… Not a whole lot of magic weapons,” Annabeth admitted. “I use a dagger, by the way, but you can use whatever suits you. I recommend something light, since uh. Seems you don't have a lot of muscle… I think? Hard to tell under all those layers— speaking of which, how are you not dying?”

Percy grinned and lifted the back of his sweater. “Cold pack,” he said triumphantly before lowering it back down. “I keep one on whenever it's too hot,” he explained as he began looking at the various assembled weapons. He tried to lift a spear off the rack, but immediately put it back when he felt his arms tremble.

“Huh… And why not just wear less layers? It's summer,” Annabeth said. “Plus it'd probably ease the confusion on your gender.”

Percy stopped for a moment before he started examining some daggers, facing away from Annabeth. “It really wouldn't,” he muttered under his breath before speaking up. “I just don't like showing off my body - uh, not that there's anything wrong with that,” he added hastily, turning around. “Just… I don't like… Being seen.”

“Huh… Fair enough,” Annabeth conceded. “What do you have there?”

“Oh! Uh… I think they're hunting knives?” He said uncertainly, holding up two long knives with ivory hilts that were in brown leather sheaths.

“How did those get left here?” Annabeth asked in surprise. She pulled one out, and the blade was silver instead of bronze like all the other weapons. “They're hunting knives - ones used by Hunters of Artemis. They leave weapons behind for us sometimes, but almost never something this good…”

“Should… I not use them? Since they're for Hunters… And I'm a guy…”

Annabeth shrugged, putting the blade away. “I say use them. They're just weapons, and if we ever meet the Hunters they can say something then,” she said firmly.

Percy chuckled, feeling a bit amused at her gung-ho attitude. “Well… Where do I, uh…”

Annabeth pulled a belt off a nearby table and threw it at him. Percy yelped and barely caught it. “That’s adjustable. Should do the trick,” she said cheerfully.

Percy huffed but easily put the belt on and attached the knives’ sheaths in a way that they held tight. “Uh… Yeah?”

Annabeth tugged on the belt, causing him to blush. “You're good,” she said approvingly. “Anything else?”

Percy shook his head. “Maybe that spear if I had any strength, but nothing,” he said with a sigh. “Not Clarisse level, though. That's something else.”

“Right?” Annabeth said as they exited the shed and started to wander a little. “Like, I know they have a reputation as Ares kids, but there's got to be a point it's a little ridiculous.”

Percy snorted. “How much do you wanna bet it's a rule? ‘Must be this buff to live’ is just carved into the wall,” he said, waving his hands as if making a sign.

Annabeth cackled. “Oh, gods. I can see it,” she said, a massive smile on her face. “They-they just have an entire weightlifting set blocking the door, and you can't get in without deadlifting it.”

Percy burst into laughter at the mental image. “Pfff oh my gods, that's gold. And-and their beds have these just. Metal curtains blocking them off.”

“Beds of nails, of course,” Annabeth said sagely.

“Nah, can't have them eating it for breakfast,” Percy said dismissively.

They both stared at one another before they burst into laughter, doubling over and landing on their rears, clutching at their stomachs as they imagined the Ares kids as super hardass marines who ate literal nails for breakfast.

“Percy?” Said a familiar voice.

Their laughter stopped and Percy sat up immediately. He grimaced at the person who'd approached. “Hey, Grover.”

“You know each other?” Annabeth asked curiously.

“Uh… Yeah. I was Percy’s Protector,” Grover said sheepishly.

“Which you did such a great job of,” Percy muttered.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Oh, drama. Alright then. Uh… Everything okay?”

Percy looked at Grover. “That's a great question! Are you going to apologize for lying?” He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ah, well…” Grover shifted. Percy noticed then that he had furred legs and hooves. So he was a satyr… He decided to ignore that. If Brunner was actually Chiron the centaur, then yeah. Grover could be a satyr.

“Look, Percy, I just… Well, it wasn't safe for you to be there anymore!” He blurted out.

Percy deadpanned at him. “Ah, yes. It wasn't safe then. Not when I was being literally attacked at least twice a week,” he scathed sharply. “Not when Nancy was dumping water on me and Milo was tripping me in the halls. Nope! It was dangerous because Nancy lost her freakin’ mind. Sure!”

Annabeth shot an alarmed look at Percy before she then turned toward Grover. “Okay… what happened?”

Grover shifted his feet. “Well… This mortal girl was giving me a hard time, and Percy stood up for me. But, uh… Then Nancy cornered him, Percy said something, and she just… Ran. Like. Ran all the way to West Virginia.”

Annabeth’s eyes went wide. “She what?”

“She had a psychotic break,” Percy said dismissively. “Nancy’s always been a little psychopath, but the waterboarding and literal running away didn't tip the school off to that,” he groused.

“Percy… You told her to go far away,” Grover said anxiously.

“What, and I should've expected her to listen? And how's it my fault that she interprets halfway across the country as far away?” He snapped.

Both of them were looking at Percy now. Annabeth with newfound curiosity and Grover with apprehension.

“Percy, I—”

“Look, Grover. If you're not going to apologize, save it,” Percy said, not wanting to talk to Grover anymore.

Grover slumped and sat down, head in his hands. “...I’m sorry,” he said. “I really did have your best interests at heart.”

Percy made an unconvinced sound. “Well… Fine, that works,” he said, sighing.

Annabeth hummed. “Well, uh… In good news, no monsters followed Percy here?”

Grover frowned. “Really? Not even one?” Percy shook his head. “That's… Strange.”

“That I had a safe trip?” Percy asked. “Wait… No, wait. Annabeth, you said it was odd that no monsters followed me, too. Why is that weird? Wouldn't it be best if demigods got here unhurt?”

“Oh, of course!” Annabeth said hastily. “It just… Well, stronger demigods are more at risk. But even weaker ones usually have a run-in with a monster of some kind on the way.”

Percy frowned. “I… Uh, no. There…” He felt a chill run down his back at the memory. “...There’s only one time I can say I probably met a monster, and that was ages ago.”

Grover looked worried, tapping his knee. “That… I guess isn't too surprising,” he muttered. “You're around a lot of mortals. But… But I could've sworn you were… Well…”

“You could've sworn I was what?”

Grover shrugged helplessly. “Powerful.”

Dinner wasn't too complicated, much to Percy’s relief. Since he kind of knew what to do, and asked the dryads a question about their bread options, he was able to get a nice dinner of rice with sliced grilled pork, cucumbers, carrot slices, and some cabbage for something just shy of a katsudon. And after sacrificing a spoonful of rice and the best slice of pork along with a mental prayer, he ate dinner at Table 11 with the other Hermes kids.

It was, thankfully, not nearly as tight a fit as he'd worried. Luke had Percy sit next to him and introduced him to some of the kids who were either unclaimed or not the children of Olympians. Lou-Ellen was a daughter of Hecate and Ethan was a son of Nemesis, but Butch and Clovis had no clue who their godly parents were. Butch seemed a lot more upset about that than Clovis, who Percy was 90% sure had narcolepsy considering he was nodding off into his mashed potatoes.

He got a couple weird looks for his choice of dinner, but nobody asked questions. Considering the patch on Lou-Ellen’s shoulder implied she had diabetes, they were probably used to people having dietary restraints. A couple of kids asked him if he was really a boy, but Luke told them off and said to leave Percy be, which he appreciated. If it would be a while before he was claimed, he felt he'd be fine since Luke seemed pretty trustworthy.

The campfire wasn't too bad. Everyone seemed to just sit wherever they liked, and since Annabeth waved him over, Percy obliged and got to greet her brother Malcolm as a result. Like Annabeth, he had intense gray eyes, though his hair was straight, short, and brown.

Percy noticed a girl with long black curls was giving him a curious look. Her eyes were… Blue? Maybe green? He couldn't tell, but he felt a chill run down his spine when he realized she was beautiful. Insanely beautiful. Maybe even to the degree people might mistreat her for it…

She was sitting next to a burly guy with jet black curls and dark skin, arm in arm with him. Based on the large leather apron he wore, Percy guessed he was maybe a son of Hephaestus? He hadn't been at the Cabin Eleven table, after all, but he didn't seem to have the sort of aggressive demeanor of Clarisse and her siblings, who of course shot Percy hateful looks. Because why wouldn't they?

First were the s’mores. Percy however just had a regular marshmallow toasted to a perfect golden brown paired with a couple pieces of chocolate, since Annabeth warned him the graham crackers had gluten in them. It was actually a little frustrating, since Mom used to be able to get gluten-free ones pretty easily, but it felt like they were being phased out more and more. He just waved off Annabeth's apologies and enjoyed his marshmallow and chocolate, though. No use in complaining when he could still have most of the ingredients, he supposed.

The sing-along was… Fun. Awkward, silly, and… Fun. Chiron busted out a guitar of all things (his horse half was white, apparently), one kid had a lyre, and someone had bongos of all things. For the most part, Percy kind of just listened, though. He didn't really know many songs, but…

A long, long time ago

Those lyrics he knew.

I can still remember how that music

Used to make me smile

Percy smiled and slowly began humming along.

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

But February made me shiver

Percy felt a shiver run down his own spine. He began to sing, softly and under his breath.

With every paper I'd deliver

Bad news on the doorstep

I couldn't take one more step

I can't remember if I cried

When I read about his widowed bride

He closed his eyes and began to slowly increase in volume, though he wasn't as loud as the others yet.

But something touched me deep inside

The day the music died

His smile broadened.

So bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

And them good ol’ boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye

Singin’, “This’ll be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die”

He approached the same volume as the others slowly moving his head along to the music. He felt weirdly warm, but giddy. This was fun!

Did you write the book of love?

And do you have faith in God above

If the Bible tells you so?

Do you believe in rock’n roll?

Can music save your mortal soul?

And can you teach me to dance real slow?

His heart was beating strangely fast as he continued to sing. It felt quieter around him. Maybe he'd gotten louder than the others?

Well I know that you're in love with him

‘Cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym

You both kicked off your shoes

Man I dig those rhythmic blues

I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck

With a pink carnation and a pickup truck

But I knew I was out of luck

The day the music died

The music felt both silent and deafening. His arms felt cool, but his heart was beating so fast he felt like he was overheating. He wasn't sweating, though. Still… Percy kept singing.

I started singin’, “Bye-bye Miss American Pie”

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good ol’ boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye

And singin’, “This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die”

Now for ten years we've been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone

But that's not how it used to be

When the jester sang for the king and queen

In a coat he borrowed from James Dean

And a voice that came from you and me

His eyes fluttered open and the song died in his throat. Everyone was staring. At him.

Nobody was playing music anymore. They were staring transfixed at Percy, who felt his face slowly redden as the embarrassment took over. “I… Uh, s-sorry?” He said, seeming confused. He looked at Annabeth, but was surprised by the coral pink glow on her. “Uh… You're glowing.”

“No… you're glowing.”

“What?” Percy looked down at himself and wasn't sure how to react to the very literal glow coming off of him, just like she said.

What he did know how to react to was the fact his glasses and clothes (and cooling pack) were gone, replaced by a dress.

“What the f—” His swear was cut off by Chiron.

“Hail Perseus Jackson. Son of Aphrodite, Lady of the Doves, Goddess of Love.”

Chapter Text

CW: Panic Attack, Mental Breakdown, Referenced Sexual Harassment

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

IV: Son of Aphrodite

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

“Hail Perseus Jackson. Son of Aphrodite, Lady of the Doves, Goddess of Love.”

“What.”

“Percy… Your uh… Your godly parent is Aphrodite,” Annabeth said softly by his side.

Aphrodite. Goddess of love, beauty, and… More mature things…

Percy looked down at himself and felt a wrench of fear grip his insides. His hands looked like they'd gone through a full manicure. Every flaw down to the tiniest of scars were all just… gone. His nails had also been rounded and painted a coral pink. His arms were admittedly rather tastefully decorated with two thick golden bangles around his biceps and a not-too-modest array of thinner bangles on his forearms.

His legs had been made perfectly smooth, not a single hair in sight. His feet, like his hands, had been perfectly done up. They felt smooth and well cared for, and he saw the same color polish on his perfectly trimmed toenails. The sandals he now had on looked… Well, Greek in origin, with straps and going halfway up his calves.

And then there was the dress. Gods, the dress.

It was a greek chiton dress that was soft pink in color, a shade that matched the polish well. The collar dipped - not enough that it felt disturbing, but enough to show the gold pendant he'd been given that was fitted with a pink gem of some kind - the gold chain it was on was accompanied by a couple thinner gold chain necklaces. The dress was loose and flowy with no sleeves and slits starting from the lower thighs that bared each leg, it was clasped on his shoulders with golden brooches in the form of doves, and he even had a new belt replacing the one he'd worn before, one with much nicer leather as well as gold buckles and trim. The dagger hilts looked new as well, and so did their sheathes.

“What did she do to me?” Percy asked, horrified.

“She made you gorgeous,” a voice said. Percy snapped his head up, but couldn't figure out who the source was.

“I'm a boy, what in the…”

“Certainly don't look like one,” said Clarisse, who was smirking openly. He glared at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Percy… Uh, you should see your face. That glare’s not very scary,” Annabeth said apologetically.

“My… My face? What did she do?” He asked apprehensively. The warmth he felt wasn't from Aphrodite’s claiming anymore, but instead his building upset.

A couple giggles were exchanged and someone tossed something at him. He caught it deftly and sighed. It was a compact mirror. He opened it and wanted to scream at what he saw.

His hair. His hair. She'd made it soft and glossy, with a braid just behind his trimmed bangs that went from ear to ear. The rest was put into a braided bun with a pink rose comb tucked into it, save some loose curls left underneath to fall down to his shoulders in a soft cascade. He also had a couple gold earrings - hoop earrings that admittedly looked really pretty.

The makeup, somehow, was worse. Pink lipstick, blush, eyeliner, mascara, gold and pink eyeshadow, his eyebrows… Everything. It wasn't overpowering, but it wasn't ‘day-to-day’, either. It was a combination of pinks and golds that drew out the warm browns of his eyes. Not to mention the bits of gold glitter…

Percy felt sick.

“Why…” He whispered. “Why?” He repeated more loudly, demanding an answer. “Why is this what claiming— I– no, this— this is—”

“Breathe, Percy,” said the pretty girl he'd noticed earlier. She was slowly approaching, an apologetic smile on her face. Her and the boy on her arm earlier had been among the few that didn't stare. “This… This is just how Mom claims. Most gods are, uh… Not quite so extreme.”

Percy let out a hollow laugh. “What, not so extreme as to… Completely embarrass me?” He half-shrieked. He didn't care how feminine he looked, he was angry.

“Percy… You look good. You look beautiful, honestly—”

“I know I’m beautiful,” Percy snapped, cutting Annabeth off. “That's the problem.”

Everyone seemed confused, but Percy was just angry. He took a deep breath, but it came shaky. He gritted his teeth, turned, and stormed off. He couldn't do this. Be around people like this. No. Absolutely not.

He refused to be seen this way. Seen as beautiful. He didn't want this, and if Aphrodite seriously thought he did, she was clearly out of her mind.

“Percy!” A voice called out, but he ignored them. “Percy wait, that's—”

He jolted when he saw a flurry of feathers and talons.

Harpies.

“Shit, Percy, run!”

He snapped.

“GET DOWN!” He roared at the harpies.

They immediately fell to the ground, kneeling while Percy breathed heavily, fury filling his body. His blood felt like it was boiling. He glared at the maybe five or six harpies.

“Leave me alone,” he hissed. The bird-women wasted no time flying away, leaving a shaking, angry Percy to slowly gather his breath. His hands were shaking badly.

He couldn't think. He tried to focus on breathing, but he couldn't. His breath kept coming in short, rapid bursts as he clutched at his chest.

“Percy, that was…” The black-haired girl said as she gently placed an arm on his back. He flinched and turned so he could back away from her.

A lot of people were gathered and looking at him… With concern, yes. But they were still looking at him.

“Please just stop looking at me,” he begged as he felt tears slide down his face. To his surprise, two of the people didn't obey. Chiron and the black-haired girl.

“Percy… Please stop using charmspeak,” the girl said softly. “I can take you to the Cabin. It'll be private and you'll have time to gather yourself.”

“C-Cabin Eleven isn't pr-private,” he said hollowly, thinking of the spot of floor he'd been assigned.

“Not Cabin Eleven… our Cabin, Percy. Cabin Ten,” the girl said with a gentle smile. “I'm Silena… Your older sister.”

Percy felt himself slowly breaking down. His shoulders began to shake. “...Why?” He whispered. “Why would… I… I tried to hide— to be—”

“I know,” Silena said in a voice that said she really did understand. That she knew how it felt. To be seen. To be watched.

More and more tears fell down his face. “I… I don't– I don't kn-know how t-to st-stop, I…”

Silena gently took his hand. “Just breathe. Breathe in… And out…”

He slowly followed her instructions. Breathing in, then out. In, then out. In, then out. As he did, he felt his anger dissipate. It was slowly being replaced with… Pain, and sadness. Fear and sorrow.

Silena slowly pulled him into her arms, holding him close while she rubbed his back and he sobbed into her chest.

“I'm sorry, Percy,” Silena said in a way that sounded painfully genuine. She squeezed her arms around him. He couldn't really return the hug like this because his hands were clutching her shirt. “I'm sorry.”

Silena turned her head. “Drew, Mitchell - go get Percy’s things from Cabin Eleven,” she ordered. “If it looks like something’s missing, tell me.”

“I'll go with them, I know which bags are his,” Annabeth said hastily as she followed after two boys, one with black hair and one with brown.

“Silena—”

“Chiron, it’s okay. I've got Percy,” Silena said tensely. “He just… He needs a moment. Can you have a Camp sweatshirt sent to Cabin Ten?”

“Absolutely,” Chiron said. Percy didn't hear him recede just yet, though. “That just now…”

“Later, Chiron,” Silena warned.

“Of course…” The sound of heavy footsteps - hoofsteps? - followed, slowly receding.

“Lacey, can we borrow your jacket?” Silena asked.

“All yours.”

Percy felt Silena slowly let go only to wrap a thick jacket around him. She gave him a tiny smile. “This help?”

He nodded weakly. “I… Yeah,” he rasped, his throat feeling sore and his eyes aching. “Uh… S-sorry for… Your shirt,” he mumbled, gesturing to the wet spot on Silena's shirt from where he'd cried.

She waved him off. “It's fine,” she said. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and stood next to him. “You good to walk to the Cabin?”

“Uh… Yeah,” he said. His legs felt wobbly, but steady enough to walk. He sighed a little and winced when he saw the gathered faces. “...Sorry.”

“Don't be,” said a blonde girl a little younger than him. “Mom can be… Uh… A lot.”

“You can say that again,” grumbled a girl with ruby-red curls (dyed, probably) in a short ponytail, one a little older than Percy. “Still… Guess you're a favorite.”

“A… favorite?” Percy asked, incredulous.

Silena smiled as the four of them and a few others slowly began walking. The others had evidently been herded back to the campfire.

“The gods get to decide how much power their children have,” Silena explained. “Mom doesn't give charmspeak out easily. Me, you, and Drew - we're the only three out of all of Cabin Ten who can use it.”

“That… That's when…” Percy grimaced. “...That’s what it is when people do what I say, huh?”

“That's the one,” Silena agreed. “We… Try not to use it if we can, since it tends to make people, ah. Not trust us.”

Percy snorted. “They don't trust me anyway,” he said bitterly. “I was kicked out of my friend group and school all because people didn't trust me.”

“What happened?” A boy with short blond hair asked.

Percy sighed. “I… I was being harassed by someone who used to be a friend. I… I snapped and said ‘go far away’.”

“What, did she get lost in the school?” The boy asked.

“No. She got on a bus and went to West Virginia,” Percy said miserably. “At least, until the police found her.”

A low whistle came from the girl with red curls. “And you live…?”

“In Manhattan.”

“Nice,” she said approvingly.

“Not nice. She could've gotten hurt,” Percy said. “I… I just wanted her to leave me be. Why'd she take it so… Extremely?”

Silena rubbed his shoulder. “Power,” she said simply. “A lot of Charmspeak is wording, intent, and emotion… But the fourth is power. The stronger you are, the more effective it is. You're probably the strongest Charmspeaker in the cabin, if you can control monsters that easily.”

Percy felt sick to his stomach. “Lovely.”

“It also means you can protect yourself,” the blonde girl said firmly. “That’s why Drew uses it.”

Percy was about to counter that Drew was probably a better person when they stopped. He looked up and felt a renewed pit in his stomach at what he saw.

Cabin Ten.

“Ready?”

“I… Guess?” Percy said in response to Silena’s question. She smiled and pushed the door open before taking him inside.

It was pink.

The walls were painted pink, with the baseboard being white and resembling seafoam, with bubbles (pearls?) and clams and doves mixed in.

It was split into two sides by way of curtains, he saw. Though both sides were equally neat, the left side’s beds had more posters of actresses and other pretty women on the walls while the right side had more posters of actors and pretty men. By his guess, the left was for boys and the right was for girls.

The inside smelled of perfume - just shy of cloyingly. It was… “Peaches?” He said, confused.

“Sorry, I think I overdid it,” apologized the girl with red curls. “I'm Maya, nice to meet you Percy.”

“Uh… Y-yeah,” he said a bit distractedly. “Why peaches?”

“The boy she likes is from Georgia,” the blond boy teased. He laughed when Maya swatted his shoulder. “I'm Max - short for Maxwell.”

“Ah, mm.” Percy nodded. He was feeling a little out of his depth. “Uh… Can, er… I use the bathroom? I want to just… Have all this gone,” he said tiredly.

Everyone winced.

“What…?”

“There's… One snag about Mom’s blessing,” Silena admitted. “It doesn't go away easy. You can change clothes! But, uh… Your hair and makeup? Even if you try to ruin it or shower, it just… Pops back into place.”

Percy pursed his lips and closed his eyes. “And this lasts for…?”

“Anywhere from two days to… Uh…” Silena winced again.

“The longest is a month,” Max said.

“A month?” Percy shrieked. He didn't care how girly that sounded. “I… How am I supposed to hide?” He asked desperately.

“The, er… Point is for you to not hide,” said a girl with long black hair left loose. “Valentina Diaz, uh. Hi.”

Percy gave a weak whimper of acknowledgement. “I need to sit down…”

Silena pushed the curtain back and then gestured to a red bean bag chair.

Percy barely resisted the urge to faceplant and instead sank into it and groaned. “Whyyyyyyyy?”

“The gods are dramatic. Mom is… extra,” said a boy with red - ginger red, not ruby like Maya - hair that was shaved on the sides, leaving longer hair on top that was tied in a bun. “Arthur Beauchamp, hey.”

“Extra…” Percy huffed. “Would've been nice for Mom to warn me.”

“She doesn't warn anyone,” said a smaller girl with red curls who looked a lot like Arthur. “I'm Colette.”

Percy shook his head. “No, uh. Not Aphrodite. My… My mortal Mom,” he explained. “She's lesbian.”

“Ohhhh. That makes more sense,” Lacey said. Percy noticed that she and the others had begun sitting down on what he now recognized was a very large white area rug on the floor. Though, a couple sat in chairs from desks or on other bean bag chairs.

“How many of us are there?” He asked distractedly, noticing the Cabin had quite a few inside of it.

“Counting you, eleven,” Silena said. She didn't even have to do a headcount. “We’re about middle of the pack for Cabin size. A bit more than Athena and Hephaestus, less than Apollo and Ares. Way less than Hermes. There's about the same number of Demeter kids as there are us, I think.”

“Huh…” Percy frowned. “How many Campers are there?”

“Maybe… A bit less than ninety?” Max guessed. He shrugged. “Hard to say. Not all of the summer-only campers have come back from school yet. We're only missing Fontaine.”

Percy looked at his feet. He felt his face warm when he saw the nail polish. “My favorite…”

“What was that?” Asked Lacey.

Percy’s face went from warm to scorching. “She… The, um…” He sighed and held out a hand, splaying his fingers. “It's my favorite color…”

There were a couple appreciative hums and thoughtful looks, but… They didn't seem uncomfortable, thankfully. Just… Observant.

“Mom uses everyone's favorite color,” Silena said with a smile. “Mine’s seafoam green, Maya’s is the same red as her hair… She just knows. She pays a lot more attention to us than, er. Some of the other gods do their kids. She makes the makeovers… Personal.”

Percy huffed. “Then why a dress?” He asked, still hung up on why Aphrodite would put him in one. He wouldn't deny that it looked good (though he'd absolutely avoid admitting it), and honestly he… Liked it… A little… But still. And the thigh slits were kind of overkill, even if they weren't quite disturbing.

“Ah, uh. Well…” Maya began before clamming up.

“Yeah, so… Uh…” Arthur very firmly avoided Percy’s eyes.

He turned to Silena, who had a brief moment of looking like a deer in headlights.

“Uh… That's… maybe she just couldn't find boy’s clothes that she liked on you…?” She suggested.

If children of Aphrodite were anything, it was definitely not good liars. But Percy could tell they were very averse to answering the question, so he dropped it.

A knock came on the door.

“Come in,” Silena said.

The door opened to reveal Annabeth with two boys Percy recognized from earlier - Drew and Mitchell, probably. The boys had his suitcases and Annabeth had his duffel.

“Hey, Percy,” Annabeth said with a nervous smile. “We checked over everything, and I'm… Pretty sure? They didn't steal anything.”

“That's reassuring,” he grumbled. The boys rather helpfully dropped his suitcases in front of him while Annabeth awkwardly handed the duffel to Drew who then added it to the lot.

“Hm…” Percy frowned at the duffel before unzipping the top pocket and rummaging inside a bit. “...I’m missing a green sweatshirt with a small tear on the left side, it’s got a giant crow on the back and the front says ‘Nevermore’ in cream lettering. It's too big on me - which is the point. I'm also missing… A toothbrush, two small bottles of cherry-scented hand sanitizer, and… A pocket knife with an ivory handle and the initials ‘S.J.’ etched on the hilt.”

He looked up and blinked at the various looks of surprise. “What? I inventory,” he said defensively.

He looked inside the suitcases but they seemed untouched. “Well, they're fine at least,” he said begrudgingly. “I don't care about the toothbrush, but I'd like the rest back. That sweater was my mortal Mom’s, the knife was her dad’s, and that sanitizer was expensive.”

“Uh… Shit, okay. I can do that,” Annabeth muttered. She shook her head. “Aphrodite kids, I swear,” she said almost good-naturedly. She gave Percy a backwards glance and a smirk before heading back out, and the asian boy of the two who'd come back with her followed her out.

“That's good. Drew can charmspeak them into giving your stuff back if he has to,” Maya mused. She shook her head and chuckled. “Still, that's some skill. How'd you know stuff was missing?”

“I could tell they wanted to steal,” Percy said simply. “Everyone was curious, but only a couple actually wanted to take stuff. I don't know how I knew, I just… Did.”

“That's Mom’s powers at work,” Arthur said as he sat on a bed with light green sheets. “Empathy. You can tell what people are feeling or planning to do. Most of us have it. It's uh. Good for being able to protect ourselves.”

Percy hummed. Belatedly, he realized he still had Lacey’s jacket on. “Oh, uh. Here,” he said, handing it back to her before rifling through his duffel. He pulled out a hoodie and pulled it over the top of his head, sighing in relief when it covered his torso. He tried not to be too disgruntled when he felt his hair shift back to how it was before his hoodie messed with it.

“No worries,” Lacey said as she put her jacket back on. It didn't escape Percy that she and a lot of the others besides Silena and Arthur - the two oldest - were dressed more warmly than they needed to be.

He wasn't sure if he felt relieved or saddened by how much they probably understood.

“So! Big question, Percy,” Silena said brightly. He blinked and looked at her, confused. “When's your birthday?”

“My bir— uh, August 18th,” he answered. “Why?”

“We celebrate all of our birthdays,” said Maya. “Also, we keep scrapbooks for everyone. Take candid pictures here and there. Nothing personal or uh, inappropriate, though.”

“We do usually take pictures of everyone's Claiming makeover,” Max said delicately. “But if you're not up to it…”

Percy sighed. “It's not… It's not like… Well, I don't…” He let out a frustrated sigh and fell backwards, covering his eyes with his arms. “...I don't dislike how I look. I know I look good, and… And it… I want… but…”

He thought of all those awful looks. The gazes that lingered. Even just at the campfire, he'd gotten some creepy looks. Looks that felt like hands on his skin, grabbing and touching.

“...I just don't want people to treat me differently, or to look at me like I'm just a piece of…” He felt bile rise in his throat and swallowed it. He didn't want to throw up right now.

After a moment of silence he sat up, but he kept his gaze focused on his feet. “Every day… If they're not staring, they're touching, and I just… It makes me sick. So I try— I try,” he sobbed, the word coming out raw and pained. “I wear the baggiest, least attractive clothes I can find. I wore those stupidly thick glasses. I put my hair in an ugly bun, I just - I don't know what I'm supposed to fucking do,” he sobbed, his voice breaking on the last word as his knuckles went white from where his fingers dug into the bean bag chair. “I just… I just wanted to be left alone.”

He stiffened when he felt arms around him, but the person was just… Hugging. He noticed the green flannel and realized it was Arthur.

“We get it,” he said gently. He slid forwards and sat next to Percy. He had tears sliding down his face. When Percy looked around, he saw varying expressions of sorrow and - in a couple cases - anger.

“Yeah… More than anyone, we get it,” Maya reassured him. “Being children of Aphrodite… We're destined to be beautiful, in body, face, voice… Everything. Because to Mom, beauty’s a weapon she had to use to defend herself. And it's the best weapon she can give us.”

“But it's a double-edged sword,” Max said sadly. He stared at the ceiling. “They judge us… Assume we're always happy.”

“Always asking for it,” Valentina whispered.

“Always responsible,” Silena finished. She was one of the ones who had looked angry. “We stick together to protect each other, so… At least here, even if the stares don't stop, you can make sure they don't touch you or any of us. If it comes to protecting any of us or yourself? Charmspeak.”

“But—”

“I know,” Silena said. “I know how it feels. To make them… Obey.” She said the word as if it was bitter when it passed her lips. “But when it comes to our safety? It doesn't matter, Percy. It's a gift. Use it. Use it wisely, but use it.”

He drew his legs close and wrapped his arms around them. “...Okay,” he said softly. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck a bit, feeling bad for bringing the mood down. “I, uh… I guess… A picture is… Okay,” he said, feeling his cheeks warm at how awkward he was being. “Just… Don't let too many people see it?”

Silena smiled, and the tension vanished as the other kids - his siblings, and boy would that take work to remember - relaxed. “Sounds like a plan. Hey, where's the camera?”

“Got it!” Valentina said triumphantly as she held up what looked like a polaroid camera.

Knock knock.

“Talk about timing,” Arthur huffed from Percy’s left.

“Come in!” Silena called out.

The door opened to reveal Annabeth and the Aphrodite kid who'd run after her - Drew, he was pretty sure.

“Sweatshirt, hand sanitizer, and knife,” Annabeth said triumphantly as she held up a plastic bag.

She tossed it and Percy caught it smoothly. He looked inside and smiled. “Thank you,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Annabeth blinked. “Uh, well- I mean- yeah, sure,” she said before turning to leave. “Bye!”

“Wait, wh—” Percy jolted when the door slammed shut. “Does… She not like me or something?” He asked dejectedly.

Drew covered his mouth, shaking as he seemed to be stifling laughter. Colette and Lacey giggled from where they were sitting together. Even Silena and Arthur seemed amused.

“What?”

Silena chuckled as she reached a hand out to pull him up. He accepted warily, his feet wobbling only a bit. “I don't know if you noticed earlier, but at the campfire? Everyone was listening to you, Percy,” she teased.

“Everyone?” He squeaked while she pulled the curtain out and positioned him. At her gesture he sheepishly removed the hoodie, handing it to Valentina while Max was setting up a lamp. Damn, his siblings took pictures seriously.

“Everyone,” Maya confirmed. She poked between his eyes. “Relax, and smile. It's just a photo.”

“Easy for you to say,” he groused.

“Oh, also, Annabeth was definitely checking you out,” Max added with a laugh. “But don't worry, it wasn't in the creepy way.”

“Uh… Is there… A non-creepy way?” Percy asked, lost.

“Oh, Percy…” Silena sighed and patted his arm before she took a few steps back and messed with the camera. “You've got a lot to learn, sweetie. But yes, there's absolutely a non-creepy way. Annabeth probably thinks you're cute. You two spent the day together, yeah?”

“Cu— uh, y-yeah. Wait. Cute?” Percy asked, cheeks pinking as he looked at Silena in surprise.

Flash!

“Ow!” Percy yelped, blinking spots out of his eyes. “Silena!”

“Sorry! That was just a really good pose,” she said, chuckling as she took the photo - a polaroid - and clipped it to a string with a tiny wooden clothespin so it could develop. “But yeah. That color and outfit? It's cute on you.”

“O-oh…”

Flash!

Percy wasn't quite as caught off-guard that time, but he still wound up blinking spots out of his eyes. “Gah. So not used to having my picture taken,” he huffed.

“Your mortal Mom didn't take pictures of you?” Lacey asked, seeming concerned.

“Oh, no. I mean… She did, just… Not after I turned ten,” he admitted.

“What happened when you were ten?” Lacey asked.

Percy stiffened. “Not talking about it,” he said firmly and immediately.

“Oh, uh…”

“No worries,” Silena said breezily, though she shot Lacey a significant look. “Just means we can take them here. And don't worry - we don't use the flash when it's bright enough out.”

“Alright,” Percy said, relaxing.

Flash!

“Gah! Warn me, would you?!”

“Heh, nope,” Silena said cheerfully as she put up the third picture. “That should do it, at least. Max, put this away? Thank you. Percy, there's a few empty bunks on the boy’s side - go ahead and pick one and you can keep your things in the wooden chest. Don't worry, they lock, and even the Hermes kids can't bust into them.”

“Wait, but the dress…” Drew said, faltering.

“Uh… I'm definitely a boy,” Percy said, blushing. “I know the dress is… Whatever it is… But yeah, I'm a boy.”

Drew frowned but a sharp look from Silena had him pursing his lips and dropping the subject.

“Go ahead and change in the bathroom over there, Percy,” Silena said. “By the way, all the clothes and jewelry Mom gave you won't vanish with the rest of the blessing. So… Congrats on your first present from her.”

Percy froze on his way to his bag. “First…?”

“Mom loves giving gifts,” Silena said cheerfully. “It's like, her way of showing affection to us, I guess? Everyone here's gotten at least one gift after their makeover.”

“Mom even gives us birthday presents every year after we're claimed,” Colette piped up from where Lacey was undoing her two long braids.

“Aphrodite's one of the better godly parents,” Arthur said. “She… Cares. She wants us to know she cares. And I mean, with her being the goddess of love, is it really a surprise?”

Percy thought about it while he pulled a tank top, some sweatpants, and clean underwear (that he hid from view) out of his duffel. He just took the Nevermore sweater out of the plastic bag Annabeth had put it in for something to wear over the tank top. “I… Guess not,” he begrudged.

Frankly, he was struggling to reconcile the image they were painting of ‘Aphrodite the literal goddess of love’ with the one of ‘Di the deadbeat’ he'd had for years. It wouldn't be easy, he felt. But…

Well, having a bunch of siblings wasn't too bad. He moved his bags onto a bunk that had white sheets and no posters (and a wooden chest with no name on it) before heading to the bathroom, and as he went inside, he couldn't help smiling a little to himself.

“You were right, Mom… I found people who understand.”

Chapter Text

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

V: Flirting 101

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

June 5th, 2005

Aphrodite Cabin - Camp Half-Blood

Percy groaned and sat up, shaking his head. “Ow.”

“Uh… You good?” Said Arthur, who upon opening his eyes Percy saw was putting on a wristwatch. He was dressed and ready for the day in jeans and a Camp t-shirt.

“I'll live,” Percy groused. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “What time is it?”

“Uhhh… Six,” Arthur said.

“Blegh.” Percy flopped back against his pillow. “Too early.”

Arthur laughed and poked his cheek, earning a groan of protest. “Should get used to being up early. Gives you time to get ready,” he teased.

“I don't want to get ready,” Percy groused. “I usually just take a shower and get dressed.”

“Uh-huh. And is that what you like doing?”

“...No.”

“That’s what I thought,” Arthur said with a laugh. He tugged Percy’s arm and pulled his grumbling sibling into a sitting position. “Sorry to say, Percy, but you'll want to actually do what you like while you're here.”

Percy frowned. “Why?” He asked, swinging his legs to hang over the side of the bed. He saw that Drew was also up, but Mitchell and Max were still out cold.

“Aphrodite kids aren't taken very seriously,” Drew said as he strode over. He was in jeans and an orange tank top. “We're considered a bunch of ditzy gossipmongers.”

“Well, I mean. We do gossip,” Arthur admitted. “The thing is that because Mom was considered ‘a problem’ during Ancient Greek times, there's been a lot of prejudice against her - and us - ever since.”

“That's…” Percy deflated, his anger dissipating immediately as he realized something. “Exactly how it was at school, so… I guess it's nothing new.”

Drew patted his back. “Honestly, we all definitely like what they stereotype us as liking. Makeup, fashion, gossip…” He grimaced then, looking more than a little frustrated. “But we also like knowing how to protect ourselves.”

“How… Do… Do they not teach us swordfighting? Why would Chiron be like that?” Percy asked, appalled.

“Chiron isn't the one who decides that,” Arthur said, annoyed. “It's the other Campers. See, as long as we do some activities every day, we're good. They just don't let us learn from actually decent teachers. The Apollo kids don't teach us archery, the Ares and Athena kids don't teach us swordfighting, the list goes on.”

“Unless it's something traditionally ‘feminine’ like gardening with the Demeter kids? We're told to screw off,” Drew said with a resigned shrug.

Percy wanted to say something. About how… unfair that was. How cruel and unkind and othering. But… But the words died in his throat. Because it was nothing new - to him or them.

“So… What do we do?” He asked. “We're supposed to be learning that stuff here, right?”

Arthur nodded, checking himself in a mirror. “Yeah. That's why we make use of what Mom gave us,” he said, turning to grin at Percy. “We flirt.”

“What.”

“We flirt,” Arthur repeated. “Silena’s got it easy since Charlie - that's her boyfriend - he’ll teach her whatever she wants. The rest of us gotta work for it, but it's fine.”

“I don't… No, I can just—”

“Ask?” Interrupted Drew. Percy nodded. “You can try. I'm sorry, Percy, but the moment Mom claimed you, they put you in the same box they did the rest of us.”

“You're one of the bimbos now,” Mitchell said sleepily from his bed. “Woohoo.”

“Go back to sleep, Mitchell.”

“Bite me, Drew.”

Percy sighed. Then he frowned. “Hey, uh… Wait. Aren't, like… Aren’t we all related in Camp? Why does anyone date?”

Arthur winced. “Uh… Well, godly stuff works out funky. I mean, hey. Zeus and Hera are technically siblings. So we just don't date other kids with the same godly parent,” he said, shrugging. “So yeah. Try not to think about it too hard.”

“Uh… huh. Okay,” Percy said, sighing. He reached up and tugged at one of the curls that wasn't part of the updo while looking at his other hand’s nails. “You said up to a month?”

“Yep! Best to make use of it while it lasts,” Drew said cheerily. He stretched a bit. “I'm gonna shower.” He then turned and headed off to the bathroom that was on their side of the Cabin.

Arthur chuckled at the face Percy made. “Still that hung up about it?”

“No… Well, yeah… But, uh… I don't…” Percy winced. “I've never flirted before. Frankly I don't know how to… Do anything with that… Kind of stuff. I tried not to, so I wouldn't do something stupid and steal a boyfriend or girlfriend by accident,” he said glumly before scowling. “Though, it seems like I didn't have to try, what with how people were all over me.”

Arthur chuckled. “That'll happen, but don't worry. We'll… Well, actually, maybe one of the girls should teach you?” He said thoughtfully. “You'd be better off learning their techniques than ours.”

“But… I'm a boy.”

“And?” Arthur said, smirking. He tapped Percy’s nose with a knuckle. “You look like a girl, so flirt like one. A lot of the initial attraction someone feels is aesthetic. They don't think about your gender identity - they think about what you look like.”

“This… Uh… Okay,” Percy said, though he was struggling to wrap his head around it. “But… What if they… T-touch me?”

“Don't let them if you don't want them to,” Arthur said simply. “It's not too easy for most of us, but you have Charmspeak.”

“Which Silena said to use only for protection,” Percy pointed out.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Not good at reading between the lines?” He said, though there wasn't any judgment in his voice. “It's all good. Look, Silena and Drew both use Charmspeak more than they say they do. They use it to cut ahead in line, to get what they want, etcetera. What matters is that you don't use it to hurt others, okay? Sure, don't use it in excess, but don't be afraid to use it either.”

“A-ah…”

“Don’t worry, Percy. It takes everyone a while to learn the ropes,” Arthur said reassuringly. He spun in his seat and reached over to the wooden chest at the foot of Percy’s bed, lifting an orange sweater off of it. “Your first piece of Camp-issue clothing.”

“Ah…”

“I know, they're not the nicest clothes, but at least it's good quality,” Arthur said, shrugging. “Anyway. Once Drew is out of the shower, I suggest you get in there fast. Mitchell and Max take forever.”

After taking Arthur’s advice and beating his other brothers to the shower, Percy glared at his appearance in the compact he still had. Despite all the makeup washing off and his hair getting undone and everything, once he'd dried off it had all just… Reappeared. Just as flawless as before. He'd been able to remove the hoop earrings and the comb, at least, and was given a couple gold studs fitted with pink gems to take the former's place (he liked the free pierced ears, admittedly). He even got a spare jewelry box for his sudden new supply.

He also realized that his scars and beauty marks and so on hadn't in fact magically vanished last night. They'd been covered up by makeup. He had to admit it relieved him a little, considering his Mom always said that scars were memories and reminders.

His clothes, at least, had been changed to a pair of his nicer, more form-fitting jeans (after Silena vetoed his initial baggy ones) and the orange sweater, which wasn't nearly as baggy as he liked. With some socks and sneakers, he was all set.

Not that he was happy about it.

“You look like someone spit in your oatmeal,” Silena observed while Percy poked at the bowl with an annoyed face.

He sighed and closed the compact. “It's… Fine, I guess. Just… Arthur told me about, you know… how everyone treats us,” he said, waving his spoon around before letting it fall back into the warm breakfast with a soft plop.

“Ahhh. The initiation speech,” Silena said sagely. She grinned when Percy gave his oatmeal another morose glare. “Relax, Percy. We find ways to manage. Just play into the role. Let them think you're harmless. It's their mistake.”

“And how,” Charlie said with a chuckle. It being breakfast, he was sitting next to Silena and had mostly been silently munching on some sausages and eggs. He was a pretty quiet guy.

Percy huffed and focused on trying to get some oatmeal down.

“By the way, there are some rules about flirting to get what you want,” Silena warned. Percy raised an eyebrow at her and she elaborated. “First, no flirting with the partner or crush of one of your siblings.”

Percy blinked. “But… What if there's like. A Demeter and Hermes kid together or whatever. Wouldn't they also be off limits?” He asked, confused.

Silena shrugged. “Only if you want to leave them be. It's fend for yourself out here, Percy - and besides, as long as you don't use charmspeak, if they can be swayed then that's their own problem,” she said firmly.

“That feels… Wrong.”

Silena smiled sadly. “It's what we have to do to learn the skills we need,” she said simply. “What if everyone in camp was taken, except for us? Then we're just screwed. If they were willing to take us seriously, I'd be willing to have us be more ethical. But as it stands, they aren't - so we play hardball.”

“A-ah…” Percy frowned at his oatmeal. It couldn't be that bad, could it? Wouldn't… Wouldn't some of them still be nice? “What about Annabeth?” He said hopefully.

Charlie snorted. “Annabeth is a bi freakin’ disaster,” he said with a clearly amused grin.

“She's also chivalrous to a fault,” Drew grumbled. “She's crushed on all of us, at least briefly. Nice for like… A test run on flirting. She's easy - hey! Not like that!” He said when Percy gave him a cross look. “I mean she's easily flustered and she'll teach you what you want her to with only a little pressure.”

Percy huffed. “That's not nice to do to someone who's crushing on you,” he grumbled.

“Well, asking nicely hasn't worked,” Silena said plainly. “She's good - the best, even. But if you ask her to teach you how to use those knives of yours? Good luck. She'll find every excuse in the book to politely decline.”

“I… But… Well, then… Am I supposed to date her…?” He asked, confused.

“Gods no, not unless you actually want to,” Drew said. “People aren't owed a date just because you're a little flirty. It's like Arthur said, just don't overdo it and you're fine. You'll be considered a bitch, but not a bitch. You feel me?”

“No. No, I don't,” Percy said flatly.

Drew frowned. “What?”

“Percy… don't take this the wrong way, but you… Are you autistic?” Silena asked gently.

He bristled. “...Yes, why?”

She held up her hands. “Hey, it's okay. Relax. Nothing wrong with that. We're just used to making use of double meanings and stuff,” she said reassuringly. “What Drew was trying to say is that there's a fine line between a hard to get flirt and a total sleaze.”

“Oh…”

“Don't worry, Percy. I had a rough time with that kind of thing, too,” Charlie said empathetically. “Can't read someone’s tone worth my life. Wasn't until I started dating Silena that I realized people look down on you all.”

“Wait… You're autistic?” Percy said, surprised.

“Sure am. It's actually pretty common in Hephaestus kids,” Charlie said, chuckling and taking a sip of coffee. “Actually, Hephaestus kids and Aphrodite kids have a lot of ‘two sides’ stuff going on. It's kinda interesting, because—”

“Charlie?”

“Hm? Yeah babe?”

“It's a little early in the morning for demigod theory,” Silena said placatingly as she patted his arm. “And it’s Percy’s first day.”

“Oh, right. Sor— uh, maybe later?” He said, stopping his apology when Silena gave him a firm look.

“Um… Yeah, sure,” Percy said, confused. Drew shook his head when Percy gave him a questioning look and mouthed ‘long story’, which he decided probably meant it was none of his business.

“Uh… So, er. Back to the… Flirting… Thing,” Percy said, still having a bad taste in his mouth about the idea of using flirting to get what he wanted. “I… I seriously don't know how. I don't know what's too much, what to do, say, I…” His shoulders slumped and he sighed. “And Arthur says I should flirt like a girl, which… I just… I'm a boy. I should flirt like one, right?”

“Do you want to flirt like a boy? Because it's a bit more overt and tactile,” Silena said cautiously. “Meaning you’re more likely to need to touch the people you're flirting with.”

Percy paused before huffing. He dropped his spoon in the empty bowl of oatmeal and wished desperately he could hide in his baggy, ugly clothes again. “No, I don't. I don't want to… Touch… If I can help it. And being overt, I…”

“Then flirt like a girl,” Silena said simply. “Percy, it's not about identity or anything with this. It's about looks and words. And frankly, you look and sound like a girl, plain and simple. You're cute enough that it won't take much effort, either. We'll teach you the basics, and… Well, just like ADHD for demigods helps with picking up on combat skills and reflexes, being a child of Aphrodite makes it easy to become a very effective flirt.”

Percy smiled weakly. “...Thanks, for the compliments,” he said softly. “I'm… Not used to them, honestly. Mom - uh, my mortal one - she compliments me a lot, but… whenever I had friends before, they were kind of…”

“Backhanded?” Charlie guessed.

“Fake?” Drew said.

“Empty?” Silena offered.

“All of the above,” Percy said glumly.

“That'll happen,” Silena said. “When you're pretty, people don't compliment you on it because they assume you already hear so much about it. Or because they're jealous. Or… Any number of reasons, honestly. And it hurts. We get it.”

“But,” Drew cut in. “Compliments are nice. And once you get more real ones it makes it easier to like yourself. Your looks, your voice, the whole deal.”

“Exactly,” Silena agreed. “Now, it's about time to try for an activity. Let's look for Annabeth.”

“Oh boy,” Percy muttered under his breath as he got up and followed his siblings after Charlie pecked Silena’s cheek and headed off to his own siblings. Percy smiled a little, feeling… Warmth. “You two are really sweet together,” he told Silena, without thinking. He felt his cheeks warm a bit after he realized what he'd said.

“Thanks!” Silena said brightly. “Charlie’s a good guy. Better than anyone else I've dated, I'll be honest.”

Percy hummed. “He really loves you,” he said.

“Ahhh, you can sense it?”

“Huh?”

“Our bond,” Silena said. “Aphrodite kids have the ability to sense emotional bonds. Familial, platonic, romantic, sexual… You'll get more in-tune with it over time, but yeah. Charlie and I have a strong romantic link since we've been together for a decent while. Seven months.”

“Oh, wow…”

“Right?” Drew said, grinning. “I was worried at first, but they really go well together,” he said with a dry chuckle. He then looked up and beamed. “Twelve o’clock.”

“Huh?”

“Look forward, Percy,” Drew said, rolling his eyes.

Percy looked forward and saw that they were approaching a set of wooden training dummies. Annabeth was training with them, wearing a camp tank top and shorts with a jacket tied around her waist by the arms. He felt his face warm when he realized he could see the tan bra she wore underneath the loose tank top.

He also noticed that her hair was tied up, and she was really focused. He and the others got a good hundred paces away and she didn't even seem to notice they were there.

“So… How do I…?” Percy asked Silena helplessly.

Silena patted his back. “Just relax, okay? Relax,” she said, squeezing his shoulders. Percy sighed and begrudgingly let the tension out of his shoulders. “There you go. Look, don't push yourself - don't try to think of really special lines or anything. That's just corny.”

“She's right,” Drew said. “You want to try to be, like… Effortless.”

“How?”

Silena sighed and shot Drew a glare. He shrugged. “What we mean is that you don't want to come across as stiff or as if it's obvious you're flirting. You want something - which is training, yes?”

“Well, yeah,” Percy admitted. “Even just some basics…”

“Okay. So, compliment her.”

“Huh?”

“On her skills,” Silena explained. “Find out what she's proud of in herself. Maybe it's her brains, her skills, her face - could be anything. I'm not telling you what, but you'll be able to tell. Start by talking and complimenting - we can get into more advanced techniques later on.”

“Tech-techniques?” Percy stammered. “Holy… Why is this so complicated?” He grumbled.

“Because that's emotions for you, my dear,” Silena said with a smirk. “And hey - if all else fails? Pout.”

“Pout?”

“Pout,” Silena confirmed. “It works best when you're one of the ‘cute’ types, and you're definitely in that category. Trust me, if she resists? Pouting is definitely going to work.”

“Uh… O-okay…”

“Go get ‘em!” Silena said encouragingly as she pushed Percy forward.

He yelped and stumbled. He turned back to glare after regaining his footing, but somehow his siblings were gone. Were they hiding behind something?

“Percy?”

Percy started and turned to see Annabeth looking at him with surprise. Her face was flushed and she was sweating a little.

“Uh, hi! What's up?” Percy asked, feeling both incredibly awkward and stupid at the same time.

“Oh! Uh, n-nothing, just… Training,” Annabeth said, shrugging. “I, ah. See you've still got the blessing.”

Percy pursed his lips a bit. “Yeah,” he admitted. For some reason it looked like Annabeth was staring at his… Mouth? “Um… Annabeth?”

“Hm?! Oh! Uh, sorry. Lost in thought,” Annabeth said distractedly as she began stiffly walking over to a bag. She pulled a water bottle out of it and drank about a third of it in one go.

Percy giggled. “That thirsty?”

“Hm? What? N-no! Uh, wait. No, yes. I mean… Ugh,” Annabeth groaned. She shook her head. “Sorry,” she muttered, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat off her brow. “Not, er. Thinking straight.”

Percy found himself smirking a little as he suppressed his giggles. This was kind of… Fun?

“So, uh… Is there anything else you have planned today?” Percy asked curiously.

“Oh, uh. No! Nope, I'm… All free,” Annabeth said, tugging on her ponytail a bit while she very clearly looked away from Percy.

“Annabeth, I'm over here,” he said, grinning.

“Hm? Oh! Sorry,” Annabeth said when she looked back at Percy, her face turning bright red. He felt that same sort of warmth again. Were these her emotions? He was pretty sure she was flustered, but happy. Maybe he was doing it right?

“I saw you training. You're really good,” Percy said thoughtfully, wanting to see how good he was at complimenting.

“O-oh. You think so? I just… Well, I've been doing it for a couple years, and… Y-you were… Watching me…?” She asked, suddenly seeming even more red-faced.

“Just for a little bit,” Percy confessed. “Sorry. Does that bother you?” He asked. He clasped his hands behind his back almost without thinking, casually leaning a bit closer.

“A-ah, I mean. No! Nope, not at all,” Annabeth replied. “Just… Um… You didn't see anything… Embarrassing, did you…?” She asked, her eyes looking a little shifty.

Oh? “Embarrassing like… What?” Percy asked, his grin broadening as his curiosity grew. What was she hiding?

“N-nothing! Nothing at all,” Annabeth stammered. “Oh, wow. It's getting crowded around here. Uh, maybe I should, uh…”

It was just the two of them. Now Percy knew she was flustered.

“Actually, hang on,” he said. He didn't reach out, but he did tilt his head to have his face follow her gaze. “I actually wanted your help with something. Since you're so skilled, I figured you were the best one to ask.”

“Oh! Sk-skilled? I mean, well, only… A little… But I mean, yeah! Sure, anything!” Annabeth agreed, a really silly grin on her face.

“I actually have no idea how to use these knives,” he said, putting on a tone like he was just… Well. Helpless and ditzy. Like Silena and literally all his other siblings advised.

“A-ah…” Annabeth looked away as a pained expression appeared on her face. “About that…”

“Is something wrong?” Percy asked innocently.

“Well, it's just…”

“Shouldn't I be able to protect myself?”

“I-I mean, well. Of course, it's just…”

“It's just…?”

“Well, I mean. I don't want to hurt you.”

“What? Surely someone as skilled as you can take it easy and make sure I don't get hurt, right?”

“W-well, I mean… Am I that… Good? Wait, no. I just— gah, I-I said no.”

“Annabeth…”

“I-I said no, I can't. I'm sorry,” she apologized.

Well, now or never.

Percy gently grabbed her wrist and pushed his lips into a slight pout while looking up at her. “Please?”

Annabeth’s face went full-on crimson as she stammered incoherently for a solid few seconds before she groaned and hung her head. “...Okay,” she said defeatedly.

Percy beamed as he let go of her wrist. “Woo! Thank you!”

“Ah, um. Y-yeah, of course,” Annabeth said, seeming pleasantly surprised at his cheery mood. It was nice that he could feel that she genuinely was happy to help him. He didn't know what her hangups were besides hurting him - if any - but it didn't seem like she had reservations anymore.

And even better, he didn't have to use a lick of Charmspeak.

“So where do we start?” He said cheerily, now satisfied that he'd gotten what he wanted. He'd make sure to ease up on the flirting now… Er, the intentional flirting. Hopefully he'd not do anything unintentionally…

“Ah, hm. Well… exercise,” Annabeth said after a moment. “Sorry, but you're uh. Not very strong, are you?”

“I… Don't know,” Percy admitted. “But I usually sat out of gym class so I wouldn't be stared at, so…”

“Fair enough. We can start small - stretches. If you can incorporate stuff like this into your daily routine, you'll gain more flexibility and strengthen your muscles a little. We can go from there, but this stuff will be important. Being a child of Aphrodite, you're not going to have the level of physical enhancement other demigods do,” Annabeth said with an apologetic look.

“Physical enhancement?”

Rather than answer, Annabeth turned around and ripped an arm off of one of the dummies without so much as a grunt. She then turned and crushed the elbow in her hand, leaving the two parts to fall to the ground and splinters to fall from her hand when she opened it.

“Holy sh—”

“I'm on the higher end since I'm a child of Athena - a war god,” Annabeth explained. “Ares kids are even stronger - without even trying. Aphrodite kids…” She winced. “You're among the weakest.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah… Maybe it would've been different when Aphrodite was a war goddess…?”

“She… Mom was a war goddess?”

Annabeth nodded. She gestured for Percy to follow her and then laid out a towel - one she hadn't been using. “Go ahead and sit down, I’ll have you do some basic stretches while I talk,” she said.

Percy rather awkwardly sat down, not sure what the plan was.

“Next time you should wear something a bit easier to exercise in,” Annabeth pointed out. “Jeans aren't very flexible.” Percy gave a noncommittal grumble, as he was very unhappy with the idea of baring his legs in shorts. Hopefully sweatpants would do the trick.

“Alright, now do as I do,” Annabeth said. She sat in front of him, not bothering with a towel. She placed the bottoms of her feet together and spread her knees apart, down to the ground, then pulled the heels to rest against her butt. “Don't force it and just try to get as close as you can until it starts to ache just a bit.”

“Um… Okay,” Percy said uncertainly. He put his feet together, spread his knees apart, and pulled. He grunted softly when he felt several aches across his legs when he got his heels about half a foot away, maybe a bit less. “Ow…”

“Hold it there. We'll do this for about twenty seconds,” Annabeth said. “Now, yes. Aphrodite was once a war goddess. In fact, it's believed her first ever incarnation was the Meosopotamian goddess Ishtar.”

Percy blinked. “So… She wasn't born from Ouranos’ remains merging with seafoam?” He asked, lost.

“Sort of,” Annabeth said. “We don't have a wall… Ah, here.” She got up and walked over to her bag, rummaging a bit before pulling out a foam block. She set it on one end of the towel Percy sat on. “Break that stretch - slowly - and put your feet against the block, legs straight.”

Percy obliged, and with Annabeth’s guidance he was reaching as far down his legs as he could while bending over. While she was touching her toes, he made it to a couple inches shy of his ankles.

“All myths come to be for a reason,” Annabeth explained. “And honestly, the only way to know the truth is to ask Aphrodite herself. But from a mortal standpoint, Aphrodite went through a lot of phases before getting to this point. One of them - when she went through a couple places, including Sparta - gave her the epithet ‘Areia’. Aphrodite the Warlike,” she said. “All gods have had several epithets, but Aphrodite's especially up there.”

“Wow… Didn't know she had that much to her,” Percy admitted, feeling ashamed.

“Most don't,” Annabeth said. “Don't feel bad. Now come on, flip over and copy me.”

He felt a bit awkward, on his hands and knees, trying to push his legs apart while they and his arms shook somewhat. He really didn't have much strength. Annabeth was right. She was also in what he could only assume was a perfect example of this stretch, not a twitch in sight.

“I mean, seriously. She had a lot. Apatouria - the deceiver. Despoina - the ruler. There were people who believed she should have been or was the queen of the gods, either because of how important love is to humans or because she was the eldest goddess by virtue of either predating Zeus and the other children of Kronos mythologically or literally,” Annabeth continued. “But there were also people who thought Hades’ domains were Poseidon’s and that Poseidon was chief god while Hades didn't even exist.”

“Wow… How can there be so much disagreement, but only one actual… Well, Olympus?” Percy asked, now genuinely curious about the history/mythology lesson even as his muscles were both groaning and relaxing when they switched to holding a lunge, which he was actually doing pretty well with.

“That's mortals for you,” Annabeth said with a shrug. “The Greek Dark Ages had a lot of records that went missing or were distorted. And with how much we mortals influence the gods, it wouldn't surprise me if there were some kernels of truth. The gods have been in some way affected by or influential in every major conflict in human history… Honestly, I've been wondering if maybe there's more than just the Greek gods.”

“What… like, Loki and Thor?” Percy asked.

Annabeth nodded before having him enter a sort of straddling position while sitting, trying to spread his legs as far as he could while his hands laid flat on the floor. He could feel a bit of sweat building up and it was becoming uncomfortable.

“But… Well, I don't worry about it much,” Annabeth admitted. “If they are real… The world’s survived whatever happens on their ends just as much as it has ours. If we need to meet them, we will.”

Percy hummed. “Fair enough,” he conceded. Still, their conversation had him thinking…

Just who was Aphrodite?

Chapter Text

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

VI: Family Drama

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

June 7th, 2005

Percy adjusted his outfit a bit, not bothering to look in the mirror. As much as the blessing was saving him from having to use hair products, it was still irritating to see the style.

He pushed the door open, yawning, and strode over to the hamper he'd been given. Hopefully his day would be relatively quiet. He was still sore from the last two days of stretching and exercise with Annabeth. She wasn't taking it easy on him now that he'd needled her into it, that was for sure.

“Mañana, Percy,” he heard. He almost replied by reflex before turning to his right and huffing.

“Very funny, Valentina. But I don't speak Spanish,” he lied. He did, but he wasn't nearly as fluent in it as he was in Portuguese or English.

“Mierda. What, then?”

“I don't wanna talk about it,” Percy said with a sigh. She'd asked him about it yesterday and he'd been a bit more… abrasive with his rebuttal, but it was her fault for prying.

“Why?”

Percy glanced around. Mitchell was still around, but out cold in bed. Everyone else was gone. He grimaced, stepping into his sandals. He had his camp sweater and some jeans on again. He'd gotten a few t-shirts, but wasn't keen on wearing them.

“It’s not the type of thing I've been treated well for in America, alright?” He said quietly.

“So you didn't grow up here?” Valentina asked, immediately looking excited.

Percy rolled his eyes. Honestly, he was grateful he'd had some practice in American schools on reining in his temper - or lacking that, at least shifting his reflexive responses and reactions to English swearing and insults. “No, I didn't. I only came to America the summer I turned eleven.”

“Nice. I was in Mexico until a couple years ago, myself,” Valentina said proudly. “Grew up in Puebla.”

“Big city,” Percy acknowledged. He grabbed his glasses, slipping them on. “I'm gonna go get some breakfast.”

“Wait! I… I wanted to talk more,” Valentina asked. She seemed hurt when Percy pulled his hand out of hers after she grabbed his. “Please? We're brother and sister, no?”

Percy winced, his heart aching. It… Hurt. Gods, it hurt him to be so brusque. But like everything else about himself, his background was something he tended to repress - at least in America. Though, for different reasons.

“...Some other time, irmã,” he whispered. He didn't look back. He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle the look on her face.

“You look like someone punched you in the gut,” Lacey said with a giggle.

Percy gave her a deadpan look as he set his plate down. He’d gotten sausage, eggs, and some apple slices, though he'd cracked and gotten a mug of coffee to go with it. Something to perk him up.

“What happened to the energy from two days ago?” Silena asked, teasing.

“Annabeth worked it out of me,” Percy said flatly before taking a sip of coffee and sighing in relief as the hot liquid woke him up. Caffeine, one of life’s greatest gifts. “I’m probably going to take it easy today. Draw or something.”

“You draw? Same!” Colette said brightly, perking up. “I'd love to show you sometime!”

“That'd be nice, Colette,” Percy said warmly before digging into his breakfast.

“By the way, Percy, we're making an alliance with Ares Cabin for Capture the Flag on Friday,” Silena chimed in. She grinned at him. “All we had to do was pick up washing dishes for the following week.”

Percy grimaced, remembering Clarisse. “Lovely.”

“Wow. That's unexpected,” Silena said, seeming a little perturbed. “What's your deal?”

“Clarisse harassed me on my first day,” he said with a shrug. “Before I was claimed, I mean.”

“Huh… That doesn't sound like her,” Silena muttered, frowning. “You sure…?”

Percy felt his chest heat up. Great. “Yes, I'm sure. No, I didn't hallucinate it. No, I'm not lying to you. Anything else or have I done enough to avoid an interrogation?” He asked irritably, whatever joy the coffee had brought had officially dissipated.

Silena blinked. She seemed a bit stunned at first. “I… Percy… I wasn't going to say any of that, okay? Just…”

“Just what, Silena? Spit it out,” Percy said, fighting hard not to snap at her. He didn't want to. She didn't deserve it. But at the same time her lack of forthcoming was aggravating.

…He really needed to take some lessons on anger management, jeez.

“Sorry, sorry… She's just a friend, that's all,” Silena said gently. “She's usually not so… Well… Mean.”

“Um… Well, not to us,” Colette said delicately.

“Okay, true,” Silena muttered. “Maybe it was just because she didn't know you were an Aphrodite kid?”

“I'm sure,” Percy said dryly.

Silena frowned. “I'm… Gonna go get her.” She was up and gone before Percy could stop her.

He sighed, pinching his brow. Of course.

“Dude, lighten up. Clarisse is her friend,” Maxwell muttered to his left. When Percy glanced at him, he noticed that a tired Mitchell and Valentina had joined the table. He gave them a tiny nod.

“Her friend nearly broke my hand in greeting when all I did was say hi,” Percy said acidly. He speared a sausage with his fork. “I'm not feeling the most amicable to a girl like that.”

Maxwell winced. “Okay… Fair point,” he said, squirming a bit. “But… Still. Doesn't mean you have to be a dick about it.”

Percy sighed. Maxwell… Was right. Unfortunately. Percy usually liked to think his anger was justified, but… Not always. “Alright… I'll apologize later,” he said, deflating a bit as he did his best to let his anger seep away.

“What happened?” Mitchell asked sleepily. He looked like he was about to fall asleep into his cereal any second.

“Nothing, Mitchell. Eat your breakfast,” Maxwell replied, poking his arm and earning some grumbles.

“So… Percy. Mind if we ask a bit about you?” Maya asked excitedly from his right.

Evidently Percy failed to realize that Valentina wasn't the only sibling curious to learn more. He warily finished his mouthful of sausage.

“Like…?”

“How many schools did you go through?” Maya asked brightly, catching him a little off-guard.

“Huh?”

“We all had a few kick us out. No shame in it,” Maya said with a wave of her hand. “The ADHD, dyslexia, or general Child of Aphrodite issues hit all of us.”

“I've got the record. Seven schools,” Arthur said proudly.

“Not something to boast about, Artie,” Colette said dryly. Arthur rolled his eyes and she scowled a bit at him.

“Let's see… Three,” Percy said, shrugging. “Two in– uh, in the last year or so, and I never got kicked out before I… Uh, before.”

Gods. He just had to be awkward about these questions. Clearly, he was no good at actual forethought. ‘Oh, sure, let’s just hide everything about myself and pretend I'm a regular American boy,’ he thought to himself sarcastically. ‘Fiz merda…’

“Not bad. On the low side, but that's a good thing,” Maya said approvingly. “I went through five, but I also joined Camp when I was older than you are. Now, another thing, what's your favorite food?”

“My Mom’s blueberry oatmeal cookies,” Percy replied instinctively. “She… She worked pretty hard after I was diagnosed with celiac to help me have food I liked. Those were one of the first things she got down - a lot simpler than our usual stuff, but… They taste like home, you know?”

“Awww.” Maya wrapped an arm around him and gave him a tight hug despite his exasperated protests, giggling when he squirmed. “No escaping. Your big sister thinks you're adorable.”

“My big sister is a menace,” Percy said dryly. She cackled and he rolled his eyes, but at least it didn't seem like anyone else was going to hug him. Probably.

“Maya’s right. That’s really sweet,” Maxwell said brightly. “Most of us have a bit more basic favorite foods, unless you're these three.” He pointed at Arthur, Colette, and Valentina.

“It's basic in Canada,” Arthur said, affronted. “Poutine. French fries with gravy and cheese curds. It's good!”

“It sounds violently American,” Maxwell said flatly. “I still can't believe Canada beat us to it.”

“You should try c– ah, well…” Percy grimaced.

“Try…?” Maxwell asked, raising an eyebrow.

Well… Maybe—

“Oh! Good, you're still here,” Silena said as she jogged up, an annoyed-looking Clarisse right behind her. Percy immediately tensed, feeling more than a little uncomfortable with her presence. He flexed his hand, remembering her painful handshake.

“Clarisse,” he said stiffly.

“Jackson,” she replied flatly. She glared at him a little. Clearly she wasn't about to be nice all because he was suddenly a child of Aphrodite. Shocker.

“So… Percy… Clarisse said you used Charmspeak on her,” Silena said delicately. Some of their siblings seemed surprised, looking between her and Percy. He felt his face warm with shame.

“To make her leave me alone, yeah,” Percy replied shortly. He felt… Unsettled. Uncomfortable. An unpleasantly familiar settled in, and he tried not to think about Nancy.

“Well… The thing is, Clarisse…” Silena squirmed. She looked visibly uncomfortable.

“I told her the truth,” Clarisse said sharply. “That you made me shake your hand. Of course I fought back.”

Percy stared at her in disbelief. “Are you… kidding me?”

“Percy, it's okay. She said there'd be no hard feelings. She just… Wants you to apologize, that's all,” Silena said carefully. She looked between them a bit nervously, as if a fight might break out any second.

“...I’m not doing this,” Percy muttered. He got up from the table, walking over the bench and marching away. He didn't have the bandwidth for this. Not now. Not today.

Why was he surprised? He shouldn't have been. Them suddenly being his siblings didn't mean they'd magically believe in and accept him. He was such an idiot. Why did he keep letting himself fall for that same stupid pitfall?

People didn't trust him. That's all there was to it. They didn't trust him, they didn't like him, and he was new. So even if he told the truth, if it didn't match up with what someone else said, he was lying. That's all there was to it.

If only he didn't have to share a damned Cabin with these people.

He made it all the way to the edge of the dining pavilion when he felt someone grab his wrist. Painfully grab it.

He didn't look back. “Let go, Clarisse.”

“What, no charmspeak this time?” Clarisse taunted under her breath. He felt her leaning over him. He clenched his hands into fists. “It's just an apology, and I don't think we should leave Silena all upset like that.”

What a manipulative bitch. And people apparently thought the Aphrodite kids were the catty bitches? Seriously?

“Let go,” Percy repeated. His voice was seething. He knew it was, because every part of him was seething. He was pissed, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. But he didn't want to start shit. He didn't want to start a fight, he didn't want to get in trouble, and honestly he didn't want to deal with the fallout of this bitch making his siblings hate him all because he decided he was sick of her shit.

“It's just an apology. Or are you too good for that, too?” Clarisse taunted. He could almost hear the laughter in her voice.

Percy felt his fury boiling. It was threatening to explode… But he couldn't have that. He needed… Well, he needed to stay calm. To just… Hold it together. Somehow. A little. Enough to get away and have his meltdown in peace.

Fuck, how pathetic was he? Couldn't even keep his cool under this small amount of pressure, so he was having a meltdown less than a week in. His second, actually, considering what had happened on his first night.

…Why did he bother, again? What was he looking for? To fit in? Why? Why did he want to fit in? Why did he even care? What, for his siblings? He'd done fine without them for twelve, almost thirteen years. He didn't need them. To make friends? How long would it be until Annabeth betrayed him? Until she decided he was some no-good skank, just like everyone else did?

How long until he'd realize the only thing he should do was shut the fuck up and avoid everyone?

“...Solte,” he hissed. Clarisse’s hand let go by his command. So it did work with Portuguese. Good to know.

He booked it. He didn't look back. He didn't listen to the people calling out to him. He barely even managed to avoid running into anything, what with how badly his tears had started to blur his vision.

He slipped between trees, jumped over a fallen log, and even slid down a couple steep inclines. He just needed to get away. Far, far away. So nobody would see him cry, so nobody would hear him sob, and so everybody would realize he got it now. That he was supposed to mind his place and not have any friends or anything.

Gods, why did he have to be so fucking stupid? Why did he have to take so long to understand? Why couldn't he just get it? Nobody liked him. Not really. He was clearly broken mentally, thinking he actually deserved anything. He was such an idiot.

He felt something get in the way of his foot, cursed, and fell. But he didn't get up. He just… Curled up into a ball on the forest floor. He didn't care that his clothes were getting dirty or that he'd probably never be able to get the grass stains out of his jeans.

He just wanted to cry, so he did. He screwed his eyes shut and sobbed weakly, stifling his whines as best as he could. He didn't want to be found. He just wanted to be left alone.

When would he learn? When would he finally get rid of that stupid desire to have friends and be liked and actually matter to someone other than his Mom?

“É isso que eu mereço. Fui um completo idiota,” he mumbled softly, feeling his tears slide across his face and drop onto the ground beneath him.

“I don't suppose you can translate for me?”

Percy whirled to a sitting position, his heart pounding in panic. The girl he was now face-to-face with held up her hands, smiling softly. She had verdant green eyes and chocolate brown curls that framed her round face and soft features. She looked to be about his age, and wore a camp t-shirt and shorts.

“Hey Beauty Queen,” she said lightly. “I'm Miranda.”

“...I’m a boy,” Percy mumbled. He pushed away a little, sniffling and drying his face with the sleeve that wasn't stained with dirt and grass.

“So? Boys can be queens. Haven't heard of drag queens before?” Miranda asked. She shrugged. “Then again, not too surprising. I only know about them because my uncle is one.”

“...Go away.”

“Uh. I was here first, actually. Don't blame you for not noticing, though. You seemed pretty upset,” Miranda said. She didn't seem bothered by Percy’s moodiness, which was a first. Then again, it was just a matter of time. “So, what's eating at you?”

“None of your business,” Percy said bitterly. Maybe if he was harsh with her now he wouldn't have to worry about her hating him later. Just cut out the middle man.

“Whatever.” Miranda went back to… Well, eating, apparently. She was relaxed on what looked like a wooden lounge chair with a plate of eggs and toast.

“Do you… Live here?” Percy asked, incredulous.

“What? No. This is my secret hideout. Or, well, formerly-secret hideout,” Miranda corrected. She shrugged a bit. “I'm in Cabin Four.”

“Demeter.”

“That's the one. And you're in Cabin Ten, right?” Percy grimaced but nodded. “Huh. Didn't know the Aphrodite kids could get to their own siblings. That's a new one.”

“They didn't get to me… I'm the problem.”

“Yes, I'm sure you came all the way out here and started crying in Spanish all because you bothered them,” Miranda said dryly.

“...Portuguese.”

“Huh?”

“It's Portuguese, not Spanish,” Percy croaked. He sighed. Fuck it. He had nothing else to lose. “I'm from Brazil.”

“Oh, shit! Nice!” Percy braced himself for the inevitable and insensitive comments and questions. “I grew up in L.A., myself. Not bad, but crazy expensive according to Dad.”

Percy blinked. That… Was new. “São Paulo, for me.”

“That's in Brazil, I take it?”

Percy nodded. “I don't know how expensive it was, exactly. Minha mãe - my mom - she handled the expenses, didn’t let me see the bills,” he explained. “I got some reals here and there for snacks, but that was all I ever did anything with.”

“Reals…? And that makes sense. My Dad handled everything, too. He just let me help so I could get some math practice,” Miranda said breezily. She shrugged, chewing and swallowing a bite of toast. “Not that I was good at it, but the big numbers were fun.”

“Reals are, uh, the currency in Brazil,” Percy said helpfully.

“Ohhh. Gotcha.” Miranda hummed a little, wiggling her feet. “So. The crying?”

Percy sighed. Well… “...Someone lied about me.”

“Ouch. I mean, not a surprise, everyone treats your siblings like crap, but still. Ouch.”

Percy snorted. “You're telling me. I’ve been… Ugh. It's just been… Porra, it's been awful to grow up with this face.”

Rather than mock him or say something sarcastic, Miranda actually sounded curious. “How so? Isn't being pretty, like, a good thing?”

“I wish. Everyone thinks I'm a girl when I'm not, or they say that I have it easy and shouldn't complain, or they blame me when their friends and boyfriends and girlfriends start looking at me. I've been trying so hard to avoid that!” Percy let out a frustrated groan. “But now this stupid… blessing is messing everything up.”

Miranda winced. She leaned back in her chair. “Can't say I envy that. My Mom just put a symbol over my head and called it a day,” she said, chuckling. She hummed, tilting her head as she looked up at the canopy. “But… Don't your siblings understand? They're the ones who'd get it, right?”

“I don't know,” Percy said glumly. He smothered the frustration in his chest, despite how angry he felt when he thought about them. “I thought they did, but… Well, they only met me a few days ago. What's that mean in the face of ‘Silena’s friend Clarisse’?” He muttered a few unkind words about Clarisse, the kind his Mom told him never to use to describe someone. Oops.

“Clarisse? Ugh, she's such a bitch,” Miranda groaned. Percy’s eyebrows rose and he gave her a surprised look. She noticed his gaze and shrugged. “It's true. She bullies all the newbies and then makes them apologize if they fight back. It's the Ares tactic.”

“The Ares tactic?”

“Start a fight and when you don't win go crying to someone who’ll win it for you,” Miranda explained. “He did it a few times in the myths, mostly to whine to Zeus or Hera or even his siblings so they'd fix his mistakes.”

“Oh…” Percy squirmed a little. “Well… It's too late. They believe her, not me.”

“Did you tell your side of the story?” Miranda asked, frowning. He nodded. “Damn. Anyone else there to back you up?”

“No, there…” He faltered. No. There was someone. But… “Annabeth, but… I don't think they'd believe her. Clarisse would probably say I used Charmspeak to make Annabeth do what I say?”

“Yeesh. That bites.” Miranda sighed, crossing her legs some. She tapped her fingers a little, humming. “Do you… Not want to stay at Camp, then?”

“Huh?”

“Well… Not like you've had a great first impression,” Miranda pointed out before snorting. “Not that most do. Get shoved into Cabin Eleven, pray your godly parent claims you, and when they do, hope they're an Olympian. If not? Nowhere to go. Not that it means much if they are.”

“Everyone's… Bitter,” Percy said softly.

“Just about,” Miranda agreed. She sighed. “I'm no exception. Can't tell you the amount of shit I get for being Jewish.”

“You're Jewish?” She nodded. “Um… Sorry if this is rude, but… How?”

“Being a demigod doesn't mean I'm forbidden from being Jewish,” Miranda said dryly. “Besides, I was raised by a Jewish Dad, as a Jew, with a friggin’ rabbi and everything. What do I do, just kick all that away? No! That's my life. My everything. And I don't care what that stick-up-her-butt Katie thinks, I'm allowed to be both.”

Percy blinked in surprise as he looked at Miranda. She… Well, fuck, she was saying things he wished he had the gall to say. Showing confidence he wished he had.

He turned, staring at his feet. “I wish I was like that…”

“What, you're Jewish?”

Percy shook his head. “N-no, no… I… I was, um. Made fun of. When I first came to America, I mean. Barely spoke any English, had a really thick accent… And, well, it didn't help that a bunch of people treated Brazil like some third-world-country or asked me stuff about Mexico or the Rainforest or to say something in Spanish - just all kinds of ignorant shit. It… It got tiring. I just…”

“Hid?” Percy nodded. “I'm sorry. I… I know I can't really… Uh, ‘get it’. But… nobody deserves that, you know? To… To feel like some kind of… Of…”

“Spectacle.”

“Yeah, that's right,” Miranda agreed. She sat up straight, smiling weakly. “Still… Thanks. For telling me and trusting me.”

Percy hummed. “Not sure why I did. I think I've lost my mind. You're practically a stranger,” he muttered, chuckling weakly.

“Gasp! And here I thought we might be friends!” Miranda said in a fake tone of affront. She chuckled little at her joke while Percy rolled his eyes.

“I… I don't… I don't think I want friends. Sorry, just… I don't deserve them,” he said quietly, trying to stop the tears from falling again.

“What? Don't be crazy. Everyone deserves friends,” Miranda said dismissively. “Especially cool friends who can do this!” She waved her hands and Percy watched in surprise as she apparently worked her magic. The dirt, mud, grass, and even grass stains were all pulled away from his clothes. He watched her use whatever her powers were to get him totally clean.

“H-how…?”

“Daughter of Demeter, remember?” Miranda grinned, sticking out a hand. “So… Friends?”

Percy hesitated. He… He wanted to, but what had he just been telling himself earlier? What had he just been struggling with? He knew better. He needed to know better.

“...Acquaintances,” he decided, accepting her hand. She raised an eyebrow and he squirmed. “I just… I don't… I'm not ready for friends, okay? I… I can't.”

Miranda sighed, but smiled as though it didn't surprise her. “Fine, fine,” she said, shrugging. “But we're gonna be friends eventually. I'll pull you around.”

Percy chuckled a bit, unable to help himself. It was weak, but… Well. Miranda was funny. And she didn't seem to care about his looks. ‘For now,’ warned the pained, hurting voice in his head. He agreed, but… At least if he kept her at arm’s length, it wouldn't hurt so much when she inevitably betrayed him.

“So… How’re you gonna handle being with your siblings again?” Miranda asked curiously as they let go of each other’s hands.

Percy winced. “I… I don't know,” he admitted shakily. He crossed his arms to hide the fact his hands were trembling. “I… I kind of really want to get along with them, but…” He grimaced. “I don't want to let Clarisse push me around either. It's just… She…”

He shivered. He thought about it, and… He had a bit of a guess as to why he didn't like Clarisse. It wasn't just that she treated him like crap and pushed him around, and it wasn't that she'd turned his siblings against him either. Those just served as catalysts for the real issue at hand.

She reminded him how useless he felt. She reminded him that he was… Lonely. That he didn't deserve friends or siblings or to ‘belong’. He was a nobody with a pretty face that brought nothing but trouble. She reminded him of all the horrible and awful feelings that kept plaguing his mind and heart. She…

“...She scares me.”

Chapter Text

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

VII: A Distorted Prophecy

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

June 10th, 2005

To say things were tense in Cabin Ten would be putting it very, very, very lightly.

Nobody seemed mad at Percy, per se, but they were definitely walking on eggshells around him. For Percy’s part, he was talking to and looking at absolutely none of them. Ever.

Was it uncomfortable? In every possible way. Did it make his skin crawl and feel absolutely awful? Yep. But… Well. One way or another, they were his siblings, so he had to put up with it. Unfortunately.

Still, none of them were talking to him either, so it worked out. He also wasn't terribly talkative when he trained with Annabeth on Wednesday and Thursday, but she seemed to be fine training in peace, even though they were on opposite sides of Capture the Flag. Which was strange, but then again, most Campers didn't seem to take it to heart.

Miranda, for example.

She kept Percy company here and there. He had official ‘acquaintance permission’ to share her secret hiding place. She'd said it with sarcasm, but her kindness and general positivity did a lot to help Percy relax, at least when it was just them.

Even better, Demeter and Apollo formed an alliance with Ares. So it was those three and Aphrodite against the Athena, Hermes, Hephaestus, and Dionysus Cabins. Not the most balanced in Percy’s opinion, but then again, considering what people thought of Aphrodite Cabin, they were… Probably not considered a threat.

Case in point, Percy was being assigned to the river. At a spot nowhere near the flags. He was basically being benched. Not that he was complaining, but it still stung a bit.

“Just… Stay safe, okay?” Silena had asked softly, looking a bit pained. The first words she'd said to him ever since he'd told everyone in Cabin Ten to leave him alone.

“...Sure,” he’d said weakly, not meeting her eyes.

At least he wasn't alone.

“Hey. I'm Mikayla, daughter of Apollo,” said a girl with short red hair streaked with green, bluebell eyes, and tanned skin. She grinned, shaking his hand. “Miranda calls you her new ‘acquaintance’.”

Percy rolled his eyes, taking his helmet off like she had. “I just… Don't want friends. But she didn't want to take no for an answer. So…” He shrugged.

“Don’t listen to him. He was begging to be my friend, but I had to play it all cool and start us off as ‘acquaintances’,” Miranda chimed in, grinning so broadly even someone as dense as Percy knew she was just poking fun.

“I'm sure,” Mikayla said dryly, showing that she hadn't fallen for it in the slightest. She sighed. “Well, us being the newbies in each of our Cabins, guess it's no surprise we got junk duty. Still sucks though.”

“You'd rather be in the middle of all that?” Miranda asked skeptically, gesturing towards the woods where they all heard a great deal of shouting and clanging metal. Nothing safe, that was for sure. Also nothing like regular mortal capture the flag.

“Nah, but it'd be nice to be able to do something. You know we can't even bow out? So lame,” Mikayla groused. She shook her crossbow agitatedly. “Why do I even have this frickin’ thing?!”

“Because your pae is Apollo?” Percy asked.

“My wh– oh is that Dad?” Percy nodded. “Ah. Well, I mean. I guess? Honestly, I can't use a regular bow because of my dyspraxia, so technically I have it because of that. But I was making a joke.”

“Ah. Gotcha,” Percy said, wincing. He was not at all good at catching jokes like that. He tried, but they often went over his head. “Sorry. I’m… dense.”

Mikayla shrugged. “We all have our issues,” she replied. She picked up a stone, bouncing it in her hand before flicking it across the river. It skipped six times and landed on the opposite shore. “Nice!”

“Showoff,” Miranda sniffed. She sighed, lying flat on her back on the riverbed and looking at her watch. “We have… one hour until Shabbat. Better hope whatever excitement we might get happens before then.”

“Shabbat?” Percy asked, frowning.

“It's the Jewish time of rest, observed every week starting from sunset on Friday until sunset on Saturday,” Miranda explained. She blew a raspberry. “And unfortunately, unless Capture the Flag starts before Shabbat, I gotta put up with basically being a bystander for most of it.”

“That's so… dumb,” Percy said, shaking his head. Miranda made a sound of resigned acceptance. “So… What do you normally do on Shabbat?”

“Relax?” Miranda giggled a bit at the deadpan look he gave her. “If it's absolutely necessary then my Dad and I make exceptions, but usually I just play games or whatever. No work or anything. It's just how it is. My siblings have gotten over it. They were annoyed at first, but for the most part they accept that it's just who I am. Like how that one Hephaestus kid wears a hijab.”

“Huh. Fair enough,” Percy said, shrugging. “Never really understood religion.”

“Your Dad’s not the religious type?” Mikayla asked, skipping her third stone to the opposite shore. This time she got it in five skips.

“My mãe,” Percy corrected. “She's lesbian. Guess Aphrodite's bi or something. But uh, anyway, no. Her parents were Roman Catholic, but she never bought into it.” He shrugged before carefully making his way down the bank. He tried to toss a stone and it instantly sank.

Mikayla grinned. “Find a smooth one that's sort of flat,” she suggested. Percy arched an eyebrow. “Which one of us made it to the other bank, again?”

“Toque,” Percy muttered, crouching and scanning the bank for a smooth and flat stone. “What about you…?”

“Oh, I'm atheist,” Mikayla said cheerily.

“But… Huh? How can you…?”

“I think the Olympians are like… mages? Wizards and witches?” Mikayla shrugged. She vetoed the first stone Percy held up for approval. “Too big. But yeah, magic I can believe in. Gods? Nice try.”

“Fair enough.” Percy shook his head, not sure what to think. He'd not really questioned it, but the gods existing had been… Surprising, but easy to accept? Then again, even if his Mom didn't raise him to believe in God, pretty much everyone else in the area did and that rubbed off a fair bit.

“Yep. That's a good one. Now hold it like I am - see?” Percy nodded, somewhat clumsily copying her grip. “And then just flick your wrist and let go.”

“Alright…” Percy flicked his wrist and let go. It skipped twice before sinking. “Oh!”

“Nice!” Mikayla said approvingly. She did the same and hers made its way across in four skips. Percy was pretty sure she was working on ‘power’ now, maybe. It was still making it the same distance, but going faster and making it in less skips. It just made sense.

“So does your dyspraxia not affect your wrists?” Percy asked curiously.

“Kind of?” Mikayla shrugged. “But not enough to be a huge issue. It's mostly my hand strength, coordination, and dexterity. That’s why I use the crossbow. It's magic, so all I have to do is load, aim, and fire.”

“Oh, nice. I've just got these,” Percy said, tapping the knives strapped to his belt. He paused. “And the makeover, I guess.”

“How long does it last?” Miranda asked, rolling over onto her belly and giving him a curious look. “You've had it for almost a week.”

Percy sighed. “Could last an entire month,” he said distastefully. Miranda made a sympathetic sound. “I swear…” He shook his head.

“I mean… You look pretty? Then again, it sounded like that was the problem the other night,” Mikayla observed. “Is it the fact you're a boy?”

Percy shrugged. He checked out another stone, frowning at it before tossing it aside. “Kind of? I… I dunno,” he admitted. He sighed and ruffled his hair, feeling a weird comfort in knowing it would revert on its own. “I… may have been pushing that too much. Before we… Got into a fight… My siblings told me to just do the things that I like, and… And I kind of… do like it. It's just…” He sighed again, tossing a stone he picked up. Two skips and a sink, again.

“Is it the inability to change it?” Mikayla asked innocently.

“No, no… I-I sort of… Don't like it. Being pretty, being… looked at,” Percy said, shuddering. He tried not to think of the creeps that had stared at his body or lifted his shirt. He did not need to think about that anymore.

“Sounds like there's a lot behind that,” Miranda said sympathetically. Percy shrugged weakly. She wasn't wrong, but he didn't want to talk about it more than necessary. “What did you usually do?”

“Tied my hair back real tight, no makeup or anything, baggy clothes, these glasses…” Percy shrugged. It felt silly, saying it out loud. Admitting that he was so pretty that he needed to intentionally hide his features and make himself ‘look ugly’. He felt ridiculous, and like it was an immensely pathetic problem to have.

“That's a lot,” Mikayla observed. She hummed thoughtfully, but didn't say anything positive or negative about it. Percy was confused, but… Somewhat comforted, he guessed. It… It sort of felt like she was acknowledging his hard work.

He tossed another stone. Another two skips and a sink. He wrinkled his nose, kind of annoyed. Alright, maybe skipping stones wasn't his thing.

He heard some thunder and looked up. He didn't smell like rain was coming, and didn't see any storm clouds…

“Zeus,” Miranda explained.

“What?”

“It's Zeus. He's probably still angry about his missing bolt.” Miranda sighed, pushing herself into a sitting position. She looked at her shield, tapping it a little. “Things are getting… Uh, heated. The sides are starting to squabble a lot. It's why the Hermes and Hephaestus kids don't talk to, like, anyone.”

“That's so…” Percy shook his head, sighing in frustration. “Ta de sacanagem, né? Why are we getting dragged into this?”

“Zeus thinks one of Ares or Hermes’ kids did it,” Mikayla explained as she patiently tossed a stone between her hands. She paused as they listened to the sounds of fighting start to abate. “Either it's almost over or they're moving deeper in. Anyway! Clarisse and Luke are the biggest and most likeliest culprits. Which, messed up, but also… Well…” She winced.

Percy blinked. “Nem fudendo. Nem fudendo! Caralho!” He grabbed a stone and hurled it across the river, not caring that it sank right away with a splash as he let out a frustrated half-shriek.

“Well then. That's… Um. Care to share with the class…?” Miranda asked tentatively.

Percy huffed, sinking to the ground. “Clarisse.”

“Yes…?”

“No, that's just it. Aphrodite is allied with Ares. Me getting into it with Clarisse is probably exactly what she doesn't want,” Percy explained. He groaned in frustration as he dropped to sit on the riverbank. “Gods, que idiota. I played right into her hands! Sure, she and Silena were already friends but! Agh!” He grabbed a stone and threw it hard, not intending for it to skip. It landed on the opposite shore and he scowled.

Miranda groaned. “Ugh. Of course. The only way you can make up with your siblings is if you let Clarisse win. What a bitch,” she muttered darkly.

“Why not talk to your siblings, then? Just explain and try to make peace,” Mikayla suggested.

Percy shook his head. “I can't. If I do, then it's not just a personal conflict. It's a cabin conflict,” he explained. He sighed, ruffling his hair. “I can't realistically fix anything until…” He threw his hands into the air. “Senhor Rosto Relâmpago up there gets his toy back.”

“Calling Zeus names. Bold,” Miranda said appreciatively. Percy shrugged. “Well, nothing to be done until there's a quest.”

“Of course.” Percy sighed. He leaned back before frowning and sitting up. “Do you guys… Hear that?”

“Hear… What?”

“Yeah, I don't hear anything.”

“...”

“Fuck.”

“Shit.”

“Yep, there it is.” Percy got to his feet. He looked at his knives and muttered a few choice words about the heritage of said knives before drawing them. Shining, perfectly polished silver. Hopefully he could do something with them before they got jumped, probably by Athena kids. The smart ones.

Well, better than Ares kids. They'd probably beat him black and blue. At least Annabeth had given him the reassuring(?) promise that she and her siblings would make it quick and painless.

As sweet and ditzy as she could be, Annabeth was kind of scary.

Miranda slowly rose to her feet with her shield, looking around as she carefully removed her trident from its place on her back. “Don’t suppose either of you feel confident taking on any demigods?”

“Define ‘confident’,” Percy muttered.

“Well, as long as it's not an Athena kid…” Mikayla carefully adjusted her grip on her crossbow, and pulled out a small box from her pocket. Whatever it was, Percy hoped it could stop a fellow demigod or four.

“Rrrr…”

“...Percy, Mikayla, please tell me that's your guys’ stomachs.”

“If only.”

“I wish.”

“Fuck.”

Percy registered a pair of glowing eyes in the underbrush before he yelped as their owner leapt out at him. Miranda slid between them, grunting as her shield clanged from the impact. She shoved hard with a shout and they got a good look at their intruder.

“...Is that a Rottweiler?”

Well, Mikayla was kind of right. It looked like a Rottweiler, at least. But the glowing eyes set it apart, it was way too big, its fur was too thick and shaggy, and its growls were deeper and had a strange quality to them. Like crackling flames.

“Hellhound,” Miranda hissed. “Don't let it bite you! Its fangs have venom!”

“But it's a dog! Why does it have venom?!” Percy asked incredulously. He yelped when the hellhound attacked Miranda’s shield again, but she bashed it with a shout, causing it to snarl and shake its head in displeasure before it began to slowly circle them.

“Got a clean shot?”

“Yep.”

“Take it.”

Miranda didn't have to ask twice. Mikayla pulled the trigger and the hellhound yelped as a bolt embedded itself into its side. It whined and stumbled, growling and gnashing its fangs as it tried to get closer.

Percy thought about what he'd been learning, and Mikayla’s earlier lesson came to mind. He didn't get a lot of practice using his knives the right way, but… He adjusted his grip on the knife in his right hand and threw, flicking his wrist as he did so. Miraculously, the knife actually hit the hellhound in its neck. It gave a weak whine, stumbling a little before it collapsed.

“Finish it!” Mikayla shouted. Miranda shoved the prongs of her trident in the hellhound’s head. Seconds later it dissolved into golden powder, leaving only Percy's knife and Mikayla’s arrow behind. She picked up both, nervously handing Percy the former. “That was…”

“Was that a hellhound?!” Demanded a voice. The trio looked up and saw Annabeth racing towards them. Loads of others were approaching, too - from both sides. Luke was holding a flag. They'd won, then.

“It was,” Mikayla said seriously. “It looked pretty angry, too.”

Annabeth cursed in what Percy assumed was Ancient Greek, considering her habits. “Within the border? This is not good…”

“What does this mean…?” Percy asked, troubled.

“Nothing good,” Annabeth said grimly. “You three need to come with me. We have to tell Chiron. Gods…” She didn't even give them a second glance as she brushed past them.

Percy, Miranda, and Mikayla traded looks of anxiety before following Annabeth to the Big House.

“I see…”

After they'd arrived, Chiron settled the four demigods down to stop their simultaneous attempts to tell the story. Eventually he got Percy to tell him, since he was the one who was least shaken up by the ordeal. Somehow.

Chiron tapped the table thoughtfully. He was in his wheelchair again. “The fact a monster appeared within our borders is… Not good. We need to act. I believe we must have a quest.”

“Wait, what? I don't follow,” Mikayla said, confused.

“Same,” Percy and Miranda chorused.

Chiron sighed. “Camp is no longer safe. Conflicts are erupting as a result of Zeus’ missing Master Bolt, sides are being chosen… If we speak to the Oracle, she may give us a quest. If she does, we can act and potentially prevent war.”

“O… Kay. I get that. But how does the hellhound tie into this?” Percy asked, still lost.

“The barrier runs on two things. Unity between the Olympians, and the life force of the pine tree,” the aged centaur explained, looking apologetic. “Sorry, Percy. I forgot you didn't watch the orientation film.”

“We have what now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Annabeth interrupted. She looked very impatient. “Chiron, who should lead the quest? Luke? Me? Clarisse?”

Chiron tapped his fingers some more. He seemed pensive. “...No, not Luke or Clarisse. That would be dicey, especially due to the fact… Well…”

Annabeth grit her teeth. “You don't trust them.” Chiron didn't refute her. “Fine. Then me. You know I've wanted to go on a quest, and that forbidden child we were expecting never got here. We can't keep waiting for someone we aren't even sure exists!”

“Forbidden child?”

“A demigod child of the big three,” Mikayla whispered to answer Percy.

“Oh… Oh! So that's what you meant when I arrived!” Percy said, snapping his fingers. “You thought– uh, well, hoped I was a forbidden child. But… Wait, why are you waiting for one?”

Annabeth winced. It looked like she'd forgotten the three of them were there. Hurtful. She looked to Chiron for help.

The centaur cleared his throat. “We were told that if a quest was to be led it must be by ‘a demigod most powerful’,” he explained. “We took that to mean a child born to one of the three brothers. They have always been beyond exceptional. Heracles, Theseus, Amelia Earhart…”

Amelia Earhart was a demigod. Percy filed that under ‘something that would probably cause him to have a lot more questions’. Instead of asking about Maria Quitéria or Pelé, he focused on something else.

“Okay, but what about the demigods we do have that are already powerful?” Percy asked. “I don't know how you'd decide that, but…” He shrugged.

Chiron stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Hm… Mikayla, Miranda? Do you think Lee or Katie might be up to the task?” He asked.

Mikayla frowned. “Um… Maybe? Lee’s a good archer, but Will’s our best healer, and Michael’s our best marksman…” She grimaced. “Honestly, not exactly our strong suit, being ‘powerful’. None of us have been exceptional ever since Asclepius.”

“Can't say much for my siblings, either,” Miranda muttered. She sighed. “We grow plants, Chiron, or talk to them. Maybe if someone had serviceable geokinesis, but…”

Chiron leaned back in his chair, brooding. “The Hephaestus Cabin’s greatest talent is Charlie… Mr. D won't allow his sons to risk their lives over a ‘petty family squabble’... Well, Annabeth, I believe–”

“Nope.”

Everyone turned to look at Mr. D as he closed the door to the Big House behind him. Annabeth looked especially betrayed. “Mr. D?”

“Annabeth isn't who dear old dad wants,” Mr. D informed them. He sank down into a chair, sighing and manifesting a glass of wine. The sky thundered and he winced. “Sorry! Force of habit!” He grumbled and snapped his fingers, switching it out for a diet coke. “Stupid forced sobriety…”

“Why?” Annabeth asked, agitated.

“You're too close to Luke, who’s a suspect.” The god’s words left her looking stricken as she tried and failed to refute that before slumping into her seat. “Besides, aren't you forgetting a certain Cabin, Chiron?”

Chiron frowned before realization dawned, and clearly he wasn't the only one. The three girls all looked at Percy, each seeming thoughtful, though he saw a bit of doubt on Annabeth’s face.

As much as it stung, he didn't exactly blame her. Even he hadn't thought about Aphrodite as an option. Cunning as his brothers and sisters were, they weren't fighters. Not really. Passing over them didn't feel like that big of a slight in this case.

“I don't know, Chiron…”

“Percy, you helped us take that hellhound down,” Mikayla said defensively. “And you all saw him use charmspeak on the harpies! Who else in Aphrodite Cabin has that?”

“Drew and Silena,” Percy said. He tilted his head as he double-checked his memory before nodding. “Just them and me. Don't know how ‘strong’ they are, but they've definitely got more practice and training than I do.”

Mr. D laughed and they all looked at him for the second time. He raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, boy, do you think just anyone can charmspeak monsters?”

“Wh-what?”

Mr. D rolled his eyes. “This is why rare gifts are so bothersome,” he groused. He crushed his empty can and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. “I'm sure your siblings didn't know this because none of them have been on a quest in years, but charmspeak usually only affects mortals and demigods who don't share the gift. But you could not only affect every demigod in this camp besides Sareena-”

“Silena.”

“Whatever, her, sure, but also the harpies. That's a lot of power, boy. ‘Most powerful’ type stuff.”

“...Oh.”

“So then…” Chiron gave Percy a thoughtful look. “It would appear you must lead the quest.”

“I… O-okay, but… What does that even mean?” Percy asked, frowning. “You mentioned an Oracle. What, is there a cell phone I can dial her up with?”

“No, demigods can't use phones. The low-level divine energy we radiate gets carried along with the signal,” Annabeth explained.

“You're kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Eca, puta merda,” Percy muttered. Chiron frowned at him and he rolled his eyes. “What do I do, then?”

“You go to the attic.”

“...Yeah, fine, whatever.” Percy shook his head, muttering to himself as he stood up. He frowned. “When would I go? And do I go alone?”

“You would leave as soon as possible, most likely tomorrow morning,” Chiron explained. “And all quests are three-person teams, chosen by the leader. It's a sacred number. Any more or less and the quest is doomed for misfortune.”

“...Didn’t, like, most of the Argonauts make it home?”

“Are you always this argumentative?” Mr. D snarked. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Children. Always so confident that they know best and can't ever be wrong.”

Percy bristled, but held himself back from snapping at Mr. D. If it was Chiron? Yeah, he'd have had a few choice words. But even his temper didn't get in the way of remembering that Dionysus had a reputation. One that involved driving people to literal insanity just for ticking him off.

While the existence of Percy’s sanity was a bit of a hung jury, he didn't exactly like the idea of forcing a verdict.

“Alright. Fine… The attic?” Chiron nodded and Percy sighed, pushing the door open and slipping inside.

The Big House was honestly super plain. It was kind of nice, actually, but small. Talk about misleading. In Percy's opinion it should've been made big enough for all the unclaimed, or at least those whose parents didn't have cabins. Something. Then again, maybe that was just him being a smartass child.

Oh well. If he couldn't rebuke Mr. D aloud, he'd do it in his thoughts. Those were still safe, right? After all, the bastard hadn't reacted to the absolute onslaught of profanities Percy had been mentally screaming. So, hey. There was that. Small victories.

He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror and rolled his eyes. Still perfect. Annoying makeup. If it actually lasted an entire month he was going to flip out.

“Attic, attic…” He glanced around upstairs, frowning. No staircase to speak of, all the doors led to… Was that a freaking jacuzzi? He shook his head in disgust and kept looking until something on the ceiling caught his eye. “Oh.”

He tried to get on his tiptoes, but no dice. Jumping didn't do it either. Curse his mother’s short genes, and curse Aphrodite for not giving him some backup in that department.

Eventually he found a stool and used it to yank down the fold up stairs, carefully testing them. They creaked, but held. Amazingly. If that wasn't a sure sign of god magic, he had no clue what was.

He clambered up, careful not to catch his sweater on anything, and soon saw that the attic was full of all kinds of knickknacks.

A horn of some kind, fangs, a snakeskin, and a disturbingly realistic metal leg that had been fashioned into a lamp. Percy sighed and stumbled past the oddities, looking for this Oracle lady.

“...Que porra é essa?”

A mummy. The Oracle was a mummy wearing a tie-dye shirt, a denim skirt, bead necklaces, and other things that brought American hippies to mind. Yep. Okay. It was official. The gods were lunatics.

“Uh… Como você está? Earth to the Oracle? ¿Está ahí?” Percy asked, trying Portuguese, English, and Spanish, unsure which if any language the Oracle would reply in. Next time he was going to ask for actual information ahead of time instead of just jumping in like some kind of idiot. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

Unfortunately, the Oracle didn't respond. Great.

Percy groaned. Well, it looked like an American hippie. Maybe try a bit more English? “Um… Look, I'm just trying to get a… Prophecy? I guess?” He shrugged. “I've got to go on a quest and– puta merda you're puking green mist, that's disgusting.”

Percy took a step back, but the Oracle wasn't stopping. The mist filled the air and began to coalesce. Suffice to say Percy was a bit stunned when it took the form of his mother.

“Mãe?”

“You shall find what you seek in the land of slumber,” his green-ghost-mother said in a voice that sounded oddly raspy and macabre. Well, that was… Unsettling.

Another green ghost formed, this time in the shape of Nancy Bobofit. Percy was proud of himself for refraining from hurling his sandal at her. “The lost item shall be seen to the hand of its master,” Nancy and his mother intoned at the same time, in the same voice. Okay, yeah. That was just the Oracle, wasn't it?

“Brave the storm, for its dangers shall soon subside,” said the third ghost, one that looked like their landlord. Percy forgot his name. Gary? Greg? Something like that.

“Make good use of the powers of your heart’s reside,” the three said at once. No more ghosts, at least.

Of course, Percy thought too soon.

The last two ghosts appeared at the same time, in the shapes of Clarisse and Silena. “The land shall rest only when the truth is spoken,” the two of them said at the same time. Ominous, but not too bad.

The last line, though, brought dread to Percy’s heart.

“Betrayal shall strike at last when the guard is broken.”

Chapter Text

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

VIII: An Unsettling Exit

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

June 11th, 2005

Percy double checked his bag.

Clothes, drachmas, cash, snacks, toiletries, ambrosia, nectar, a first aid kit, and… Well, he didn't need to pack it, but having the jewelry in there… It helped. It kept the strange knot he felt in his stomach from getting too tight, at least.

He sighed, looking at the mirror. Like it had been all week, perfect hair and makeup. He was so over it, but he also couldn't help continually checking the mirror. Whether it was because he just wanted it to be over or because he secretly kind of really liked the look, he didn't want to know. Hopefully there would be few mirrors on their path. That'd stop him from being such a diva. Probably.

West.

Nobody could make sense of any part of the prophecy beyond the second line, which implied success. Other than that, the closest they could come up with was that the first line suggested that they had to go to the Underworld. Why the Underworld’s entrance was in California of all places, Percy would never be able to guess.

He looked around the room. It was early. Way early. Dawn had barely broken. He'd not really wanted to answer any questions last night, but he told them he'd be going on a quest in the morning. That was about it. They'd still had questions, but…

He just couldn't. It was still painful to look at them. Every time he did he thought about how Clarisse had utterly ruined everything. She'd cut him off from his new family and enjoyed it. She was sick and awful, and honestly it gave Percy a lot of questions about Aphrodite’s taste in men.

Honestly, if anyone was going to be a thief, she'd suspect Clarisse. The bitch was cunning and heartless. Luke looked like a total teddy bear in comparison. Sure, he was a son of Hermes, but one thing Percy refused to do was judge a book by its cover. Luke was more than that, just like Percy was more than his face.

…Well, he wanted to be more than his face. If he was lucky, maybe Aphrodite Cabin’s reputation would improve from the quest. Or at least… Maybe he'd feel like he's capable of doing something. Anything.

He let out a small sigh and unsteadily rose to his feet, shouldering his backpack. He made sure his outfit was okay. He’d worn sneakers, jeans and, against his better judgment, a cream-colored t-shirt. It showed his soft arms and his slender figure more clearly than his usual sweaters and hoodies. He hated it, but it was also unbearably hot, and he didn't need to be collapsing from the heat if a monster found them.

Fingers crossed they'd all be as easy as the hellhound.

He carefully slipped out the door, but paused a few feet away. He glanced nervously at the Cabin.

‘...Mom, Di, whatever you prefer. I… I’m sorry. I didn't want to pick a fight with everyone, but I guess I can't help it. Monumental screwup I am, and all. But… I’m going to try and get this done right. Hopefully when I do, I can make things right. But… Take care of everyone. Please.’

He slowly opened his eyes and stiffened. Someone was standing in front of him.

Silena.

“Leaving without saying anything?” She said weakly, a pained smile on her face and her dark curls hidden within a black satin cap that matched her pajamas. Percy immediately looked away in shame.

“S-Silena, I–”

She shook her head. “It's… We can talk about it when you get back,” she said firmly. “And you have to get back. Big sister’s orders, okay?”

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. “...Okay,” he said weakly. He could barely force that one word out. His gaze was fixed on the ground.

She took a couple steps closer and wrapped her arms around him. Percy had to use every ounce of willpower he had not to burst into tears as he returned the hug, sobbing weakly. Silena gently rubbed his back, conveying way more with her silent comfort and support than she had with words all week. It meant a lot. A lot.

She slowly pulled away, giving him a pained smile. “Take care of yourself. And… Here.” She held up a smaller backpack. “We packed some things for you. All of us. We… We want you to stay safe, so… So we all pitched in.”

Percy couldn't speak as he took the backpack, tears streaming down his face. They had to have stayed up late just to pack this one bag for him. They were Aphrodite kids. If they were anything like him, every decision related to gifts took twice if not thrice as long as necessary. But they put this together. For him.

He shook a bit, slowly bringing the bag to his chest and clutching it tightly. His tears fell onto the bag while silent sobs shook his shoulders. Silena gave him one more gentle, comforting hug and a strained whisper of good luck before she turned around.

She barely got the door open before Percy dropped the bag and crashed into her. He hugged as tightly as he could, wanting to convey just as much with the gesture as she had. She didn't move beyond to reach down and squeeze his hands in comfort and reassurance.

He felt a bit comforted, knowing now that even if they weren't talking… They still cared. They wanted him to be safe. They cared.

It was a lot for him to handle and cope with. He'd assumed that because of the fight and Clarisse’s behavior that he might never get the chance to make up with them. He was certain they'd grow to hate him just like Nancy had. But they didn't. They'd packed a bag for him and Silena had hugged and reassured him and wished him luck.

It was different. And it was hard to stomach. But… Based on the way Silena’s hand squeezed his own, he had hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd get that chance and more.

Slowly and shakily, he pulled away. He needed to go. He desperately didn't want to, but he needed to, like it or not. Silena paused for a moment before slowly closing the door, not turning around. Probably because she knew if he saw her face he'd be unable to go through with it. So she'd closed the door to give him that little push.

Percy carefully turned away from his new home and family, picked up their parting gift, and made his way to the Big House.

“Did Chiron give you everything last night?” Mikayla asked nervously.

“Yep. Money, food, ambrosia, nectar, the whole nine,” Percy confirmed. He adjusted his hold on the two bags he had. His backpack he'd been able to wear normally, but only after putting on the shoulder bag Silena had given him. It was a bit awkward, but he was managing. Mostly.

“Where are your knives?” Mikayla then asked. Evidently she was the worrying one of their little group.

“In my bag. I didn't want anyone to see them and freak out,” Percy explained, patting the strap of his backpack.

“Is that… Smart?” Miranda asked, frowning. She had a pretty large duffel bag, herself, and her shield and trident were strapped to her back with belts. “The Mist hides mystical things from mortals, you know.”

“The… Mist?” Percy frowned. “Minha mãe mentioned that, but no details. What is it?”

Chiron walked up just then. Walked, as now Percy got to see his entire pure-white horse half. Well then.

“The Mist is the magical veil that separates the divine from the mortal,” Chiron explained. He seemed more than a little stressed. No wonder, he was sending three kids out into the world all by themselves. If he wasn't stressed Percy would assume he was a sociopath. “It fools their minds into thinking divine and mystical objects and beings are more… Believable. Miranda’s trident would look like a hockey stick, for example, and her shield like a giant frisbee.”

“O… Kay. And my knives?”

“Well… It’s hard to say, with blades. You keep them on your hips?” Percy nodded and the centaur hummed, crossing his arms. “It can… Vary. They're a bit long for firearms, but maybe nightsticks?”

Percy blinked. “Yeah I think I'll just. Keep them put away.”

“Fair point,” Chiron muttered. He sighed, looking down at the trio. The girls barely came up to the spot his human and horse halves met. Percy was almost half a foot shorter. “Percy… You're certain you're ready for this?”

To say Chiron had his doubts would be an obvious understatement. When Percy had asked Miranda and Mikayla to be his fellow questers, everyone had been shocked. Mr. D had looked at him like he was crazy, Annabeth had looked like he'd slapped her, and Chiron had looked at him like he'd signed his own death warrant. The girls at least had only looked nervous, but agreed.

“I am,” Percy said softly. “I… Well, I am. Are… Are you two sure…?”

Miranda shrugged. She had a long-sleeve shirt, a skirt, and sneakers on. Pretty normal clothes, honestly, and Percy had to admit it looked pretty mobile, even with the duffel bag. “I mean, I did say yes,” she pointed out. “Plus, my older siblings don't exactly, uh… respect Aphrodite Cabin, so…” She winced. “Better me than them.” She then grinned and gently bumped shoulders with him. “But hey… ‘Acquaintances’, right?”

Percy snorted, but couldn't deny her words reassured him. Not the ones about Aphrodite Cabin, but the reassurances that she was still on-board. Then again, they'd been acquaintances for a few days now. Mikayla…

She looked up from examining her crossbow. She had a sleeveless turtleneck, leggings, and sneakers on, and a belt around her waist and hips had what looked like a quiver attached to it. Probably full of bolts. “I mean… My big brothers are definitely better than I am. But also, Miranda’s a friend, and… It's like she said. You asked, I said yes. So…” She shrugged before holding out a fist with a wry smirk. “‘Acquaintances’?” She teased.

Percy grinned and bumped his fist against hers. “Yeah… Acquaintances,” he agreed, grateful that she'd started there instead of friends.

Chiron managed a sad smile. “Well… I'm glad you three are well prepared,” he said in a soft voice. “‘The land of slumber’... As we discussed, that is most likely the Underworld. There is an entrance in Los Angeles, in California. There… should be others, but we've never been able to locate them. I've given Mikayla a railroad map.” She nodded, patting her bag. “Argus will drive you out to the city, but… From there, you are on your own.”

“We have to find the Master Bolt and return it to Zeus on Olympus in… Ten days?” Percy said. He sighed, his breath shaking. “So no pressure.”

Chiron winced. “Indeed…” He sighed. “Please… Prioritize your safety. Important as this is, I… I cannot help questioning the gods, this time. There are older, more experienced campers… But…” His grip on his arms tightened and he looked really world-weary. “...There are paths. Some are satyr trails, some are dryad families, the like. Miranda, you can find them?”

Miranda nodded. “Yep. Katie made sure I knew,” she confirmed. She grimaced a bit. “So… You know, as long as they're amenable, they'll be able to help us hide from monsters. Which… There’ll probably be a lot of those. Since. Master Bolt quest. Big deal.”

“Great,” Percy muttered. He sighed, rubbing the side of his face. Monsters, unsure paths, and barely any help. Wonderful.

“Is… Is there anything else I need to know?” He asked tiredly. “Like… Basics-wise. You told me about the Mist, I know about names having power, so…?”

Chiron tapped his chin. “Hm… Did Annabeth explain Celestial Bronze to you?” At Percy’s blank expression, he chuckled a bit. “I see. Well, it's what your weapons are made of. They can harm the divine. Monsters, satyrs, dryads… Er, gods… but also demigods, like yourselves.”

Percy blinked. “So we're vulnerable to mortal and divine weapons?” He asked, disbelieving.

“Two-for-one special,” Mikayla said with fake cheer. She sighed, then frowned. “Wait, but Percy’s knives are silver.”

“Silver…? Ah, yes. Annabeth told me you had Hunter’s knives,” Chiron said as his expression cleared. “They are just as effective against monsters, but can also harm mortals. ‘Blessed silver’, it is called. I don't know all of its properties. Artemis is… Well, guarded.” He shrugged, unshaken. “That aside…”

Chiron took a couple steps back, knelt, and bowed. “Please, stay safe, fight well, and may the gods guide your path,” he said in a deep tone, one that made Percy shiver a little. It felt like a cool breeze washed over them.

“Thank you, Chiron,” Miranda said kindly. The older centaur nodded and managed to force a smile, but Percy knew none of them missed the way his expression dropped into what he could only describe as resigned grief.

He thought they were going to die. Talk about depressing. Percy felt his own heart drop as dread flooded him. That was… Well, it didn't feel good.

“So… Argus?” Mikayla asked weakly, sounding a bit choked up. Evidently she was just as shaken as he felt. Considering Miranda looked like she'd seen a ghost, the feeling was mutual all around.

“Argus,” Percy agreed grimly. The trio began to make their way up Half-Blood Hill, heading towards a van labeled with what Percy had recently learned was the Camp’s public name. Apparently they sold the strawberries that the Demeter kids, dryads, and satyrs grew. Well, they had to support the place somehow.

They made it about halfway without a word between them before they heard running and turned. But instead of maybe Chiron or something, the ones heading up to them were Luke, Annabeth, and Grover.

“Um… Hi?” Percy asked, confused.

“Hey,” Luke said with a small smile. He nodded to Miranda and Mikayla. “I see you three are all ready to go. Glad we caught up. Early risers, huh?”

Percy shrugged weakly. “We just wanted to make sure we didn't waste any time,” he replied. It was the truth. They knew they wouldn't have much time, so every hour they had was important.

“Yeah, right. Of course,” Luke said, making an expression Percy couldn't read. It seemed… Relaxed, maybe? Amused? He couldn't tell. “We just wanted to wish you luck, and give a hand if we could?” He held up a box and removed the cover.

“Sneakers?” Miranda asked, frowning as she looked at them.

“They let you fly,” Luke explained. “Maia.” At his command, the sneakers sprouted wings and began to flap. Before they got too far up he said it again and they dropped into the box while he beamed. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Well… Yes, but…” Mikayla winced.

“What? Do you have something against Luke?” Annabeth asked testily. Apparently she was still bitter. Alright then.

“No,” Mikayla said sharply, glaring right back at Annabeth. “But the shoes are too big for any of us to wear.” She gestured to their feet, and she was definitely right. Percy’s feet in particular were the smallest, a realization which filled his belly with an oddly warm sensation. Alright then.

“...Oh.” Annabeth’s cheeks pinked and she looked between them all and the sneakers, grimacing. “That's… Huh.”

“Them’s the breaks,” Luke said with a sigh, covering the box back up. He seemed pretty dejected. “Shoot. Was really hoping these could help you out, but yeah. Your feet are definitely too small.”

Grover squirmed a bit, stepping forwards. “Will you be alright, Percy?”

He looked at the satyr he'd once called a friend. The boy who had ironically asked him if he would be ‘alright’. Looking back, Grover’s reasons for betraying Percy made no sense. He’d said it wasn't safe. If he meant from mortals, that wasn't a surprise - Percy would likely never be safe from them. If he meant monsters, then it was.

Percy had never seen a single one in São Paulo, and Mom hadn't ever had them move either. He hadn't even had to change schools, much less addresses. Even when he came to Manhattan, after the first monster there was never another. Same apartment, with a couple different schools due to bullies, but… That was it.

Something about it made Percy uneasy. Very uneasy. Especially since Grover had supposedly spoken to his Mom. If he had, he'd know Percy had only ever faced one monster before, and even then it was but briefly. But he'd decided Percy was in danger… A mere two and a half weeks before Zeus’ deadline of returning the Master Bolt.

Something was wrong, and Percy felt like maybe he should find out what. Especially considering that last line of the prophecy. The one about betrayal when he finally let his guard down.

“...Yeah, I'll be okay,” he replied, lifting his chin a bit. “Besides. I can charmspeak, remember? I bet I can get the monsters to just lead us to the bolt.” It was a joke and a bluff, but based on how Grover, Annabeth, and Luke reacted, they bought into it.

It seemed he could do more than flirt with his acting skills. Good to know.

“Take care,” Luke said, holding out his hand. Percy shook it readily. His hand felt small in Luke’s, and considering the guy was a full-grown adult and a tall one at that, it should have been scary. But he felt relaxed. Relieved. Luke was a good guy, at least. Camp was in good hands.

“You know it… Hey, if anything big develops, let us know?” Percy asked softly. “And… If-if anything happens to my siblings…”

“You'll be my first call,” Luke reassured him. Percy relaxed and the older boy winked at him before letting go. “Alright, you three. Have a good quest - and hey, learn from me and don't let some monster scratch your faces up, okay?”

Miranda snorted. “I think a scratch on our faces would be the best-case scenario, Luke,” she replied dryly. He stuck his tongue out at her and she did the same before jerking her head in Argus’ direction. Percy and Mikayla nodded before following after her, saying hasty goodbyes as they made their way to their hundred-eyed chauffeur.

Percy sat between Miranda and Mikayla in the back seats. He really wanted to talk about what was eating at him, but didn't trust Argus not to spill the beans to Chiron. And frankly, considering Mom had also spoken to him, Percy’s trust of the centaur was negligible at best.

“¿Habla español? Fala português?” Percy asked softly. At their blank expressions he sighed. “Nevermind. We can talk when we're dropped off.”

“About what…?” Miranda asked, frowning. At Percy's significant look and then glance aimed at Argus, her confusion vanished. “No, yeah, no. No worry,” she said, grimacing.

Percy hummed. “...Sorry for pulling you into this during Shabbat.”

Miranda shrugged. “Honestly I just see it as a really long road trip with a few extra risks,” she admitted. “So… Not ‘work’, just…”

“A very dangerous vacation?” Mikayla asked dryly. Miranda wrinkled her nose at the redhead and she chuckled. “...Oh, right. Percy, I don't know about the makeup, but what if instead of ‘mess up’ your hair, you tried actively styling it differently? Would that work?”

“I…” Percy frowned, pondering the idea. None of his siblings had mentioned it, and honestly it hadn't even crossed his mind since even the slightest hair out of place was very, very quickly remedied. But if there was ever going to be a loophole, re-styling his hair sounded like a pretty plausible method - unfortunately, there was the snag that he had no idea which way to style it. “I don't know. Maybe we can try? Er… Do either of you think you can help me with it at all?”

Mikayla winced. “Okay, shoot. Didn't think that far,” she muttered.

“Um… Hrm…” Miranda tilted her head back and forth a bit. “The curls are tighter than mine, but… Maybe? I think? Um… Is it okay if I touch it…?”

“Ah… Maybe not in the car?” Percy suggested. “Just because the braid and bun are going to need a bit of time to undo. I've seen my Mom work with hers and her hair's the same as mine, and it can take her a little while to undo and style her hair. Plus, we’ve got to consider all the options - there’s a lot of ways to style it, you know? I need time to choose.”

“Fair enough,” Miranda conceded, though she was smiling at Percy’s obvious excitement at the prospect of actually styling his hair. Though, her smile slowly faded as she began to pat her lap rhythmically. “...My siblings, uh, gave me something by the way. Seeds.” She patted one of the outside pockets of her duffel, seeming a little self-conscious. “A few types. Flowers, bushes, vines, fruits, vegetables… I think they grabbed whatever they could find, honestly.” She let out a weak, shaky laugh, as if she both couldn't believe it and was choked up.

Mikayla smiled softly. “This quiver was our older sister Caroline’s before she left,” she murmured, holding up the one she'd had on her belt earlier. “It’s magically expanded, made by the Hephaestus kids. It can hold fifty bolts, no matter if they're normal or special. I think they were saving it for… For my birthday,” she said weakly, sounding a bit choked up. Considering the initials on the quiver said ‘M.K.’ without a ‘C’ in sight, Percy figured she was right.

He ran a hand across the firm leather of the bag Silena had given him. “I… Don't know what's in it, but… S-Silena gave it to me… Said everyone pitched in. I… I didn't…”

Miranda gently took his other hand and squeezed it. “You’re still their brother, at the end of the day,” she said softly. “I’ve fought with my siblings about a lot, but… Well, doesn't mean I stop caring about them. You know?”

“She’s right,” Mikayla murmured. She wrapped an arm around Percy’s shoulders and he hummed weakly. “My brothers and I… Gods, we fight all the time. I'm technically not talking to Will right now because he stole my chapstick. But I still love him. And… I think your siblings love you, too. Plus… You're leading a quest. A dangerous one. They're worried.”

Percy stopped running his hand across the leather. Worried. They were worried about him.

It had already shaken him a lot just to realize his siblings still cared. After all, it went against everything he knew and was familiar with. A fight meant the end, or so he'd thought. But no, not to the Aphrodite kids. They still cared.

And they were worried. They wanted him to come back safely, according to Silena. The bag was proof that they even wanted to help, as much as they could anyway. He had no idea what was inside, but…

Carefully, he unzipped it and opened it up. Immediately, tears began sliding down his face as one thing caught his eyes before anything else. A little post-it note in neat handwriting.

Do your best, Percy! You've got this

~xoxo Cabin Ten

He needed a moment to steady his breathing before he could put it back without bending it. His hand was shaking too much. He also felt Miranda press a handkerchief into his hands. He managed a smile in gratitude before drying his eyes so he could look at what else they'd packed him.

He saw all kinds of odds and ends. There were a couple knives, an unopened pack of chapstick, some nail polish, a small bag of metal beads the size of marbles, a pack of playing cards, some candy, drachmas, a crumpled wad of cash, a small thermos, some kind of worn-out novel… It was a bunch of random things. The kind of things you might expect to see in a miscellaneous drawer at home. But…

He slowly brought the bag to his chest, clutching it tightly. It smelled like the usual mixture of perfumes and colognes of Cabin Ten. Like… Well, home.

Home. He always thought the only home he'd have would be the one he had with his mom, whether it was their home in São Paulo or their tiny apartment in Manhattan. But now he felt like he wanted to think of Cabin Ten as… As a sort of second home. Nevermind that he was supposed to, even before things had gotten tense because of Clarisse, he'd liked it there.

He barely even knew anything about them, but he still liked them. Love… He didn't know. It would be nice to think they loved him and that he felt strongly enough to say he loved them back, but he couldn't be sure. He hadn't been there as long as Mikayla or Miranda had their own Cabins. Not at all.

But he did like them. And when he got back, he wanted to show them that. To make things right and… And try. Try to learn more about them, and maybe even tell them a bit about himself, like they wanted.

“...Let’s do this,” he whispered softly. “Let’s get this quest done so we can go home.”

Chapter Text

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

IX: The Old Ladies of Doom

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

“So… Why are we in a coffee shop?”

Percy looked up at Mikayla. He was kind of enjoying actually not repressing his desires to look nice, so he'd gotten distracted while using the compact mirror he'd been given during his claiming. It was small, but it worked and he didn't feel safe in the men’s room anyway.

“Well, we need to go over some… Concerning things,” Percy said carefully. “Grover, for one.”

“Grover?” Miranda asked. “The satyr?”

Percy nodded. “He betrayed me to the principal at Yancy and got me kicked out. Said it was to ‘protect’ me. I've only seen two monsters my entire life, and one was that hellhound. The other I met when I just came to America just shy of two years ago.”

“Huh… The hellhound was my second, too,” Miranda muttered. “First was something small, too. A Karpos. Grain spirit, basically. They're harmless on their own.”

“Hellhound was my first,” Mikayla mused, tapping the table. “Most demigods don't run into any monsters when we're young. The ones who do are usually children of the Big Three, like Thalia, or of powerful gods like Athena and Ares.”

“Thalia? Who-who’s Thalia?” Percy asked, lost.

“Oh, uh. You know that pine tree on the border?” Percy nodded so Mikayla continued. “Well, Lee told me that when Annabeth and Luke came to camp, there was another girl with them. Thalia, daughter of Zeus. But there was also an entire horde of monsters after them. Thalia stayed back to fight them off and nearly died. Zeus turned her into that tree to save her life and honor her sacrifice.”

Percy blinked, freezing. There had been a daughter of Zeus… And… “Was Grover with them?”

“Yeah. How'd you know?” Mikayla asked, surprised.

Percy groaned, finally putting his gathered curls into a sort of puffy high ponytail. He then started to work on managing the rest of his hair, down to the last curl. The less Aphrodite had to nitpick, the better. He didn't have enough time for anything complicated, but this much still looked nice. “He thought I was a son of Poseidon,” he said grimly. “Mãe always called Aphrodite ‘Di’, and never referred to her gender until she told me I didn't have a pae. Grover talked to her, and so did Chiron. Grover was also my ‘protector’ and thought I was powerful…”

Miranda frowned, setting her half-eaten cruller down. “So… You were… What, a ‘do-over’ for him?”

“Feels like it,” Percy muttered. “Either he wasn't paying attention to what mãe said or he was trying to prioritize me getting to Camp. I bet he even planned to bring me himself in some heroic charge. I just don't know why…”

“Pan,” Miranda said immediately. “God of the Wild. The satyrs think he's still alive even though there was an announcement of his death millennia ago. It's… Fanatical. And they only get their searcher’s license if they prove themselves. Bringing a powerful demigod back as their protector? Pretty good way to do it.” When the other two gave her surprised looks, she shrugged. “What? I'm a Demeter kid. We hear a lot of stuff from them.”

“Fair enough,” Mikayla conceded. She grimaced. “Annabeth wanted to join you… She and Grover are friends… Maybe she planned to convince you to take him?” She asked curiously. “If he succeeds in this quest then he’d be guaranteed to get his license.”

Percy shuddered. That felt… Well, manipulative. Admittedly, he was one to talk. He'd flirted with Annabeth so she'd teach him how to fight. So wasn't he guilty of the same thing?

“Bit messed up,” Miranda muttered.

“Yeah… But I flirted with her just to get her to teach me how to fight,” Percy pointed out. He sighed a bit, slowly lowering his hands from his hair as he anxiously anticipated its return to the style Aphrodite had chosen. “She’s just paying me back, really.”

Miranda frowned. “Well… No. Everyone that’s not a jerk to them knows the Aphrodite kids are just using flirting to get what they need,” she said diplomatically. “A way to defend yourself. Annabeth wanted to help a friend get something he wanted even though, let's face it, while Mikayla and I might be a few steps below Annabeth herself, Grover doesn't have the abilities and powers we do.”

“Yeah. I hesitate to say ‘demigods are better than satyrs’ because I've seen that guy run. Grover’s really fast.” Mikayla then winced, seeming sheepish. “But… You hear things, being an Apollo kid. We hang with the dryads a lot. Footraces, since we're the only ones who can kind of keep up. Grover’s young, and pretty behind on his training with stuff like magic pipes and understanding what his senses tell him…”

Percy squirmed. “Do… Do either of you have to… Fulfill roles?” He asked softly.

“Oh, all the time,” Mikayla answered immediately. He looked at her in surprise and she shrugged. “Look, you and your siblings have it about as rough as it gets besides being unclaimed or the child of a minor god. But that isn't to say the rest of Camp is healthy. It isn't. I was forced to practice archery even though at first I wanted to try swordsmanship. I have a sword, but if I use it then I'm treated like I'm ‘special’ or ‘unique’ or ‘broken’. It's a stereotype.”

Miranda nodded in agreement. She finished off her cruller before answering. “I hate working with the satyrs. They're stubborn to a fault, you know? But we're forced to because we're ‘the gardening kids’,” she said with air quotes and a roll of her eyes. “We’re expected to sort of repress parts of ourselves so we can represent our godly parents better. It's… A mess.”

Percy sighed. Well, there was his answer. It seemed all of Camp was… Well, not good. Then he winced. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I… Made fun of the Ares kids with Annabeth,” he said miserably. He groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Minha mãe always told me to never, ever, ever talk badly about someone or mock them. And I did. Treated them like musclebrains. No wonder Clarisse hates me.”

Miranda sighed. “Percy… Look. None of us are perfect, okay?” She took another donut from the dozen they'd bought, a vanilla cream this time. “I mean, before I got to know you, I nearly bought into the crap about Aphrodite kids. Said rude stuff, too. We make mistakes. It's human to do so, and we're at least half that. So like… Don't do it again, but cut yourself some slack, yeah?”

Percy managed a weak smile but chose not to give the self-deprecating reply that came to mind. Instead, he took a sip of his coffee, grateful for the hot liquid. He then glanced at the compact again and smiled.

“I think we cracked the code,” he said lightly, gesturing to his hair. Both girls grinned while he sighed. “Makeup, though, I don't want to mess with. Mãe taught me how to take care of my hair, and I know a bit about makeup, but… this is just leagues beyond what I can do.”

“Yeah, same,” Mikayla muttered. Miranda nodded her agreement and the trio took a bit to work on their food and drinks.

Percy was grateful they’d gone to a sort of artisan coffee shop. It had gluten-free bread, so he'd gotten a panini that was honestly doing a lot to revitalize him. As he ate, he started to think.

They were children of Aphrodite, Apollo, and Demeter. Frankly speaking they'd be underestimated a lot more than a theoretical Poseidon kid, Athena kid, and satyr combo like Grover might have dreamed of. Especially since no one thought they were the thieves, so until they actually retrieved the bolt nobody would give them a second glance.

Gods, talk about depressing. Everyone probably expected them to fail or die, which of course meant the gods would start a huge fight that would lead to war. Considering Ares was the god of war… Well, that definitely gave him a motive. So…

“We should be careful if we see Clarisse,” Percy said slowly. Both girls gave him questioning looks. “She’s the daughter of Ares and a suspect. Add in the fact that the likely outcome of all this if we fail is war…”

“She'll wanna get in our way,” Mikayla said immediately. Percy nodded. “Fuck…”

Some older man nearby frowned at Mikayla’s language but when Percy gave him a death glare he flinched and hid behind his newspaper. Still, if they were being listened in on…

“We should go,” Percy said softly. “I’ll get a paper bag for the rest of the donuts and we can grab a bus, okay?”

“The bus? Why not the train?” Mikayla asked.

Percy’s nose twitched. “We’re in New York City. We need to get to California. With all the cash we have between us, I doubt we'd be able to afford the tickets there,” he said grimly. “Smart move is to ration the cash and basically only buy train tickets if we run behind on schedule.”

“Percy’s right,” Miranda agreed. “Take a bus first, and then see if maybe we can hitchhike here and there.”

Mikayla hummed, frowning. “Why wouldn't they give us enough to just… Ride back and forth?” She asked, lost.

“Funds,” Miranda said with a shrug. “They get a decent bit of money from the strawberries and stuff, and they've saved up for quests ever since Luke’s, but… Well…”

“Ugh, this is gonna be a mess.”

“Yep! Now, let's get these donuts packed up and see about a bus,” Percy said cheerfully.

“I'm not hallucinating the old ladies, right?” Percy asked in a resigned tone.

“Nope.”

“I wish.”

“Cool.” Percy shook his head in disbelief. Of course. They'd barely gotten out of the City before the bus mysteriously broke down and everyone had to get off. So now the three of them were standing on the sidewalk, watching three old ladies across the street mess with some bright blue yarn as they knit socks that could double as sleeping bags.

“The Fates?” Mikayla guessed.

“Yep… Oh, shit. She got the scissors,” Miranda muttered as the lady in the middle pulled out a pair of shears that looked about as old as she did. “Is that big enough for one of us? Or too small?”

“Beats me,” Mikayla said with a shudder. She sidled a bit closer to Percy and he didn't object. Despite the summer warmth, he felt cold. “I really, really hope it's not us, but… What can we do? It's the Fates.”

“Scream? Cry? All of the above?” Miranda asked. She sidled closer as well and wrapped her arm around them both. She was shaking. They all were, honestly.

Shk!

Hearing the shears cut the yarn from across four lanes of traffic felt bone-chilling. Percy broke into a cold sweat and was very grateful he was between the girls, and smaller. If only for the fact he felt the tiniest bit safer.

“...Are we going to die?” Mikayla asked in a tiny voice. She squeezed both Percy’s hand and Miranda’s.

“N-no… No, I… I don't think so,” Percy mumbled, but his words felt a bit hollow. “Just… Let's not be the dumb horror movie protagonists. No splitting up during this quest. At all.”

“Don't have to tell me twice.”

“Same.”

The bus driver exclaimed triumphantly. “Hell yeah! That's the ticket!” He said brightly before gesturing for everyone to get back on. The three of them looked back. The old ladies were gone.

“...Back on the bus,” Miranda rasped. Neither of the others disagreed as they filed in, returning to their seats near the back.

“So glad I took a bathroom break back there,” Mikayla muttered. Her teeth were chattering a bit. Percy took one of her hands and began rubbing it between his own. Having something to do helped with his own shaking just as much as the comfort he was providing seemed to help with hers.

“We… We should… Something else,” Miranda managed. She had her feet up on the seat and was nestled close to Percy, her arm looped through his.

He… Couldn't blame her. Either of them, really. He could barely string two thoughts together. He didn't know the most about Greek myths, but he knew of the Fates. Three goddesses who oversaw, well, fate. They managed every single mortal life there ever was or would be. Maybe not completely, but enough. If nothing else they decided when to cut the thread - when to end a life.

Those very Fates appeared before them and cut a thread… Percy didn't have to be a master of Greek mythology to know what that meant. One of them was going to die. Probably soon. Not a lot of myths ended happily of course, but…

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “If… If I hadn't brought you, then maybe they wouldn't have…” He became too choked up to say more, sniffling a bit.

“It… Not your fault,” Miranda muttered. She squeezed his arm tighter. “We knew the risks… And… And hey, maybe it's just… Someone we know, you know?” She managed a weak laugh that was probably meant to be convincing. Percy wasn't.

“Don't blame yourself,” Mikayla croaked. “There’s… A lot. That-that we don't know. You know?”

Percy hummed weakly. “...How old do demigods live to be nowadays?”

The girls’ silence spoke volumes.

Well. Time to… try and change subjects. “...How is the whole ‘monsters sensing us’ thing supposed to… Work?” He asked.

Mikayla cleared her throat a little. “Oh. Michael told me a bit,” she managed. She squirmed a bit, seemingly to settle herself. “Scent. They smell us. The stronger you are, the likelier they are to smell you. When they smell you, they attack. The less of us there are, the less they have to fear being attacked and killed.”

Percy squirmed. “We… Killed the hellhound. Didn't we? Like… actually killed it.”

Mikayla waggled her hand. “Sorta. Monsters reform. Though… They're not happy about it,” she muttered with a wince. “I… I don't like it. Killing. At all. I doubt either of you do, either?” Two head shakes and she relaxed a bit. “Yeah. Well, they… Their parents - don't say the names - they make them attack demigods. They're still mad at the gods about everything from all that time ago, and…”

Percy found himself sinking back into the seat and more appreciative of the comfort they were all sharing with one another. “They attack us,” he said softly. Mikayla nodded. “Gods…”

“Yeah…”

If he could've, he'd have tried the diplomatic route with every monster there was. But it sounded like that was off the table. All because they were demigods. So now they smelled and monsters would attack them for it. He didn't know how much Miranda or Mikayla would contribute, but he definitely would if Mr. D’s estimation was any sign.

“Wait… But why didn't I get attacked more than once?” He asked, lost.

“Awareness and belief,” Mikayla murmured. “I know I'm a demigod and had suspected I was ‘weird’ for a while before I came to Camp, but because I don't actually believe the gods are gods…” She shrugged.

“Then why use the words?” Miranda asked with a frown.

“It's less complicated and confusing for others,” Mikayla told her. “Plus I never put much thought towards creating new terms or finding fitting ones. It's just a lot of work when the most Apollo ever did for me was put a golden lyre over my head. Dunno what Dad saw in him.”

Percy straightened. “So… You don't have a mom?” Mikayla shook her head. “Huh. Guess we're a bit alike, just… Flip-flopped.”

“Pretty much,” Mikayla agreed with a grin. They shared a fistbump. “Who needs both? Overrated, if you ask me.”

Percy giggled. He then sighed a little, settling down as he watched the roads and scenery pass by.

“You're short,” Miranda said abruptly. He looked at her in confusion and she shrugged. “You are.”

He shrugged as well. “I mean… Yeah. But I'll grow. Probably.”

“Hm… So, question. Did you like… ever find out why your mom put you in a dress?” Miranda asked.

Percy shook his head. He'd asked Drew once, before the whole fight had occurred, but he'd just said it was for Percy to find out on his own. Talk about frustrating.

“What happened to it? Did you toss it out or give it to one of your sisters?” Mikayla asked curiously. Percy squirmed uncomfortably, his face warm. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to…”

“...I don't know why, but I kept it,” Percy whispered. He shifted a bit. “It… I liked it, and… I'm still working on understanding it. I know I… I like looking nice. But…”

“So then why'd you get so upset when you were claimed?” Mikayla asked.

Percy drew his legs up close, letting go of the girls’ hands and wrapping his arms around his legs instead. “...It’s a long story. I… Not today. Okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah, of course. No worries,” Mikayla murmured. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Miranda did the same, which reassured him.

They sat in silence after that, all still a bit overwhelmed from the events so far. Percy watched as they crossed the border into New Jersey. They'd need to switch buses soon. This one would be stopping a bit shy of Trenton. Hopefully they'd be able to make some more distance, though they needed a bit of a break. It was past noon.

“Will we be able to make it…?” Miranda asked softly. “We've got ten days to cross the country round-trip and find the Bolt… I…”

“I don't know,” Percy whispered. He wished he did. He wished it didn't feel so impossible and scary and challenging. But it did. Because they were kids on a really challenging quest. One he figured nobody expected them to survive, let alone complete.

He felt a pang of guilt as he realized he never told his Mom where he was going, or that he was going on a quest in the first place. And it was too late to just double back to tell her, too. He might…

He shook himself a little. He didn't want to think of that outcome. He couldn't let himself think of that outcome.

“We need to get off at the next stop,” Mikayla murmured.

Miranda glanced at her. “Why…?”

“Don't be obvious about it. Look ahead. Baseball cap. Shaggy hair.”

Percy looked at the front windshield by the driver and let his eyes wander. It wasn't long before he noticed who Mikayla was talking about. The guy glanced back at them a couple times, and Percy was glad he'd had Mikayla’s warning. The man only had one eye, right between where a normal person would have two.

“What if he follows us?” Percy whispered.

“Miranda covers us with her shield while you get your knives out. I'll get my crossbow out and try to go for the eye,” Mikayla muttered. When the cyclops was looking away, she reached up and tugged the pull cord before swiftly lowering her hand. The cyclops scowled at them, but didn't get up. “Slowly… Come on. Miranda, you last. Cover us.”

“Got it,” Miranda whispered.

The bus slowly came to a stop and Mikayla shakily rose to her feet. She held out a hand and Percy took it. He did the same for Miranda, who took his hand. They made sure they had all their bags and slowly made their way up front. The cyclops’ glare was scary, but he didn't stop them.

If only he didn't follow them, either.

“You girls sure you wanna get off here?” Asked the driver, causing Percy to squirm a bit as he felt a bit weird about being called a girl. The driver then looked at the rearview mirror and frowned at the cyclops, clearly not liking what he saw.

“Yeah. Our aunt lives nearby,” Mikayla replied, though she was a bit shaky. Miranda sidled a bit closer to Percy as the Cyclops approached.

“We’re going to be fine. Just let us off and keep driving,” Percy said quickly, pushing some emotion into his voice.

The driver suddenly relaxed. “You'll be fine. Go ahead and get off, kids.”

“Uh… Yeah, thanks,” Mikayla muttered before she got off, Percy and Miranda following quickly behind. “Charmspeak?”

“Yep.”

“Smart.”

Unfortunately, Percy's charmspeak didn't stop the driver from letting the cyclops off. All three demigods slowly backed away from the cyclops as he cracked his knuckles, glaring at them while the bus drove off.

“We don't want any trouble,” Miranda warned as she got between Percy, Mikayla, and the cyclops. Percy dropped his bags so he could swiftly unzip one, pulling his knives out and holding them tight.

“Too bad, girl. I do,” the cyclops growled in a low voice. “Can't let you get in the way of our plans. Consider this a mercy.”

‘Our,’ Percy mouthed to Mikayla. She shrugged. He looked at the Cyclops. If he could really charmspeak monsters… “Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head,” he told the monster, taking the line from a cop show his Mom watched sometimes.

The cyclops winced, stumbling. He seemed to be fighting it. How? The harpies had obeyed right away! Something was different here. Was it the cyclops? He couldn't tell, but at least it had some effect.

And that left an opening.

Thuck!

“OW! DAMN YOU!” The cyclops roared, sounding as if he was in agony as he reeled from having a crossbow bolt embedded into his eye. “My eye! My eye!”

“Real shame about that,” Miranda said darkly before she thrust her trident into the cyclops’ chest. He coughed and wheezed for a second before he dissolved into gold powder, leaving his hat and the bolt behind.

Mikayla picked up the bolt, frowning at the hat. “What…?”

“Spoils,” Miranda muttered. She picked it up and rolled her eyes, tossing it aside. “Red Sox. Boring and not my game.”

“So… Now what?” Percy muttered. He looked at his knives before deciding ‘fuck it’ and putting them and the belt on. He also pulled out a jacket and tied it around his waist by the sleeves, adjusting it so that the jacket covered the knives except for the hilts, which poked out just enough that he'd be able to draw them. Hopefully that would work.

“Clever,” Miranda said appreciatively as they started grabbing their bags again. “Let me see if I can't get the local dryads to point us somewhere we can regroup or catch a ride. We've still got a lot of daylight.” She walked off a bit deeper into the woods, staying within eyesight.

Mikayla examined her bolt a bit before humming and packing it away. “Should still be usable,” she murmured. Then she looked at Percy. “You okay?”

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. “...It didn't work.”

“What didn't?”

“My charmspeak,” he explained. “I… I made all those harpies get down, but…”

“Maybe it was the command? It was more complex than what you used with the harpies,” Mikayla suggested.

“I used a complex one on the bus driver, didn't I?”

“Bus driver’s not a monster. If they're more resilient…”

“I… Guess that's fair,” Percy mused. He sighed. “So much I don't know about this freaking gift…”

Mikayla patted his back and he grunted a bit, but managed a small smile.

“We make a good team.”

Mikayla snorted. “I guess so, huh?” She grinned. “Well. For ‘acquaintances’. I'm sure we'd be even better as friends,” she teased, poking his cheek.

Percy giggled a bit in spite of his complicated feelings about the idea of friends. He sighed as he slowly waved her hand away, his smile fading. “...I think I’m gonna have to stick with acquaintances for now.”

Mikayla gave him a long look before shrugging. Percy let out a sigh of relief, grateful that she dropped the subject. They watched as Miranda spoke to a tree. Whether it was talking back, neither of them had any idea, as the plant-woman within made no physical appearance.

Though, based on the broad grin Miranda had as she bound back up to them, apparently it worked out. “How do you guys feel about getting some lunch?”

Chapter Text

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

X: Pretty Privilege

~~~~~Percy Jackson~~~~~

“‘Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium’?” Mikayla asked, being the one to read the sign since she didn't have as bad of dyslexia as Percy did.

“Yep! Birchet back there told me about it,” Miranda replied as they walked up towards the building. “Said that it feeds anyone who comes by as long as they bring appropriate payment.”

“So… Cash? Or drachmas?” Percy asked, his skepticism growing. He felt so… disturbed as they walked past the stone statues. He could sense something needling at him. Like… Residue, maybe? It reminded him of the warmth he'd sensed between Charlie and Silena, but both much fainter and more intense at the same time. And... Cold.

“I don't know. She didn't say,” Miranda admitted. Percy and Mikayla traded looks while the daughter of Demeter knocked on the door, and each of them palmed their weapons just in case.

The door was answered surprisingly quickly by a woman with a Mediterranean complexion wearing shades. Her hair was all tucked underneath the cap she wore - seriously, what was it with the Greek world and caps?!

“Oh my, visitors! And demigods, at that,” the woman said with surprising warmth. Percy couldn't tell where she was looking, so his anxiety only rose. “Come in, come in - children shouldn't be left out in the cold.”

Percy traded looks with Mikayla and then Miranda. While the latter was much more relaxed, both agreed with his assessment. This woman was a monster. The fact she knew they were demigods proved it. She could probably ‘smell’ them.

They slowly entered all the same.

The inside reminded Percy of the retro diners he sometimes saw on TV. The cushioned seats were red with metal lines, the tables had that weird marbled green look to them, and there was even a jukebox in the corner. It was playing really old music he didn't recognize at all.

“Is that Elvis?” Mikayla asked, surprised.

“Sure is. He was one of your brothers, wasn't he?” The woman asked as she guided them to a booth. Mikayla, despite her distraction, had Percy sit on the inside while she sat next to him and Miranda sat across from him. He appreciated the protection, even if it was a bit embarrassing.

“Yeah! My siblings told me all about how a lot of famous musicians are children of Apollo or the Muses,” Mikayla replied excitedly. She looked torn between being nervous and excited, which honestly Percy couldn't blame her for.

“And of course, many famous botanists are children of Demeter,” the woman added, causing Miranda to wriggle a little with pride. Then she turned to Percy. “Children of Aphrodite, meanwhile…”

“Are considered unimportant and boring?” Percy guessed.

“Not at all. They do best in a variety of fields. Politics, acting, cosmetics…” The woman shrugged. “I'm just not sure any of those call to you.”

Percy felt his face warm and was very grateful that it wouldn't be visible. “Oh… Well… I don't know. I never thought about it,” he admitted, staring at his nails. The polish was gone, but they looked so nice that he'd forced himself not to bite them like he tended to when nervous. “It feels like all I am is a pretty face…”

“As someone who used to be the same, let me reassure you, there is always more to someone than their looks,” the woman said kindly. Percy felt oddly reassured by that, and shot her the smallest of grateful smiles. She smiled as well. “Now then. You children look hungry. I believe Miranda here needs to keep kosher, no gluten for Percy, and Mikayla’s vegetarian, yes? Don't you worry, I can handle that just fine.”

She was gone before any of them could say anything, vanishing off behind the large metal doors and into the kitchen.

Percy blinked. She was… Well, practically a whirlwind with how quick she moved. But he could've sworn he caught a glimmer of… Warmth? Or the impression of brightness. She was happy, he was pretty sure.

“You okay?” Miranda asked, reaching forwards. When Percy didn't pull away, she gently placed her hand on his wrist.

“You've been distracted ever since we got here,” Mikayla agreed.

Percy winced. “I… Aphrodite kids can sense emotions,” he said softly. “She seems… Fine? I guess? Kind of happy, really. But back in the front lawn there's a lot of strong emotions. Negative emotions. Resentment, maybe? And fear? But it's old. Like it's been built up over time. And it's also… Faded? Like residue, kinda, instead of being in the direct vicinity. It's weird.”

“What… like maybe people died here?” Mikayla asked softly.

Percy winced. “I didn't know for sure, but… That'd do it, I bet,” he said with a grimace. And the only person who wasn't dead in this place was…

“Shit,” Miranda muttered, groaning softly. “Aunty Em? And garden gnomes are made of stone, so that means…”

Percy and Mikayla both winced, knowing exactly what she meant. There was only one monster this woman could be.

Medusa.

“I'll take responsibility, as long as we get out of here alive,” Miranda muttered.

“Payment. Birchet said we needed payment. What if paying her means we get to leave unhurt?” Mikayla asked desperately.

“Well, she didn't say what the payment was,” Miranda said uncomfortably. “Remember?”

Percy and Mikayla cursed, the former saying some unkind things about Birchet in Portuguese while the latter was probably doing the same in a language Percy was pretty sure was French. Even weirder, he kind of understood her? Not in a manner of a direct translation, but he caught the meaning pretty well. He decided to shove that confusion in the same overflowing box he kept all his questions for Aphrodite.

Then again, goddess or not, he sincerely doubted ‘Di the deadbeat’ would actually deign to meet him. Sure, his siblings spoke well of her, but… He just didn't think he could do the same. Not with how much he didn't know and how upset he still was.

“...How did she know our names? And our parents?” Mikayla muttered, frowning. “Does our scent come with reports or something?”

Miranda shrugged. “I don't know… Parentage might be part of our scent, though,” she offered. “Maybe I smell like dirt and Percy smells like perfume, or something.”

“Oh, joy. Another thing to add to the list,” Percy groused.

Mikayla frowned at him. “Is… Femininity that bad of a thing?”

“What?” Percy blinked, then realized what he'd said and that it probably didn't make a lot of sense. He sighed. “No, of course not. Not… It's just…” He pinched his nose a bit. “It's like this. I don't like being beautiful, and I don't like it for… For a lot of reasons. Part of my ‘beauty’ comes from my… my, um, feminine attributes. I'm not dense to the fact I… Y’know…” He squirmed uncomfortably. “...I know I look like a girl. The part that bothers me is that it makes me look ‘pretty’ and… Yeah.”

“Oh… oh. I see. So… So to you, being feminine is a reminder of those reasons, since it's often tied to beauty?” Mikayla summarized.

Percy shrugged and nodded. “More or less.”

“So if Miranda and I do anything feminine, it won't bother you?”

“No, no. Of course not,” Percy quickly reassured them. He sighed again, looking at his nails. “Femininity is… Well, nice if I'm honest. But… I don't feel… safe when I'm feminine.”

Mikayla gently wrapped her arm around him and Miranda squeezed his wrist gently. He gave them both small smiles, and shortly after that Medusa arrived with a large black tray full of food.

“Alright! Potato bun burger and fries for Percy, tofu burger and a side salad for Mikayla, and a chicken sandwich with onion rings for Miranda - and I made sure to use all clean utensils for each meal, so none of you have to worry about cross-contamination,” Medusa said brightly as she placed each meal down while announcing it. The trio shared nervous looks immediately, but the food smelled really good, so they decided to eat and ask questions at the same time.

Percy was certain it had to be criminal that a burger could be this good. Considering the fries were hot, too, he was very pleased. It was kind of nice to have greasy food like this, too. Mom always had them eat healthier, with fast food being a rare thing, and everything at Camp was entirely healthy and organic.

Miranda took a bite of her chicken sandwich - which had no cheese, but plenty of veggies - and seemed thrilled. Evidently she was a big eater, considering how many donuts she'd eaten at the coffee shop, though Percy didn't think much of it. He'd rather his f– acquaintances eat well and have the strength they needed in case of a fight.

Mikayla, too, seemed very pleased with her tofu burger. Percy only had it rarely and very much preferred actual meat, but if she was happy then that's what mattered. He made a mental note to save any vegetarian snacks he had for her.

“So… how do you know about us?” Percy asked, deciding it was better to use charmspeak to guarantee an answer.

Hearing Medusa laugh in the face of it was, however, unsettling. He squirmed a bit and the girls seemed to recognize his discomfort based on how they set their food down. “Please, don't worry, darlings,” she said, chuckling a bit more. “It's just funny, is all.”

“Not sure I'd call this situation ‘funny’,” Percy muttered, a bit hurt.

Medusa sighed, shaking her head a bit. He heard some hissing as she did so. Yeah, that confirmed her identity. “I'm immune to charmspeak, my dear. I'll admit, you're strong, but it doesn't matter in the face of stronger beings,” she explained. “You’ll have an effect on them, of course, so long as they don't possess an immunity like myself, which is rare enough you can rest easy in most cases.”

“Huh…” Percy poked at his fries. Getting a lesson on his powers was certainly low on his list of expectations when it came to a monster confrontation. “...Then, uh. Can you… please tell us?” He asked, feeling his face burn hot as he adamantly looked away. More out of embarrassment at being polite after using charmspeak than a fear of being petrified.

Medusa chuckled a bit more. “Gladly, my dear. I was told about you by a little birdie. He wanted me to, ah, handle you-” all three demigods immediately tensed, “-but I have no desire to.”

“...Why?” Miranda asked. Percy met her eyes and saw the same hesitation he felt. This was… Off.

“You're neither children of Poseidon nor of Athena,” Medusa said mildly. “Demeter, Apollo, and Aphrodite - three gods who have done me no harm. So long as you children don't attack me and offer sufficient payment, I'm happy to let you be on your way.”

Hesitantly, Percy slowly turned back to look at Medusa. She had a playful smirk on her face, and her shades were still on. Well, she was playing nice at least. “Payment. The dryad mentioned that, too. What kind of payment?”

“Oh, nothing physical,” Medusa said warmly. She spread out her hands helplessly. “Stories. That's all I ask. True, meaningful stories that you hold close.”

Percy blinked. True and meaningful stories they held close? Did she mean happy ones? Somehow he doubted it. Especially not with her story. Honestly, her grudge against Poseidon and Athena lasting this long didn't even remotely surprise him. In fact it was the kind of grudge Percy could actually understand. Those feelings didn't go away easily.

“Go ahead and eat while you mull it over,” Medusa said brightly. She rose from the seat she'd pulled over and strode off. “I've got dishes to clean.” She closed the kitchen doors behind her, leaving the trio of demigods with a lot to ponder.

“Fuck,” Miranda muttered. “I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry, guys.”

Mikayla grimaced. “Can't say I'm thrilled about this, but it's not your fault,” she replied. She picked up her fork sort of awkwardly and stabbed some salad, taking a bite and shrugging. “At least the food's good.”

“True,” Miranda agreed. She munched on an onion ring, looking thoughtful. “Good stories… Hm… My rabbi took my Dad and I skiing once. Think that counts?”

“I dunno. I think she wants something… More,” Mikayla said with a weak shrug.

More…

Percy thought about all the painful memories he had. So many of them were painful, if he was honest. Being abandoned by his friends like Nancy, yelled at by jerks who didn't understand that he meant no harm, uncomfortable wolf-whistles, and of course Clarisse. But those were all so numerous that he couldn't see them being what Medusa wanted.

She'd want something good. Something worth three hot meals, her mercy, and her interest. Did he have anything like that?

His mind traveled to the monster. The one that he'd seen shortly after coming to Manhattan for the first time. A mysterious man who warped time and made him lose two hours in what felt like seconds. The man had spoken to him, but Percy didn't remember what he'd said. It hadn't been Portuguese, Spanish, or English, at least. Still, disturbing as that memory was, it was just a slight scare.

What could do the trick? What…

Ah. Of course. That memory.

“...cy? Percy!”

He jolted out of his thoughts. He'd apparently emptied his plate. He barely even registered that before he saw Mikayla and Miranda’s concerned looks.

“...Sorry, got distracted,” he mumbled.

“It's… It's okay,” Mikayla said softly. She slowly lowered her hand. He didn't even notice she'd touched his shoulder, he'd been so lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” Miranda asked.

He shrugged weakly. “I'm… I'll manage,” he mumbled. “Did, um… Either of you figure out a story?” The girls both shook their heads. “That's okay. I have one.”

“You sure?” Miranda asked. Percy nodded solemnly, and while she seemed skeptical, she didn't press. “Mind if I get your plate?”

He handed his plate to her and she put it on top of her own, with Mikayla’s going on top of his. Mikayla’s looked a little messy, but Percy knew not to judge or mention it. Even if it weren't for her dyspraxia, he'd seen girls develop eating disorders from those kinds of comments - Nancy, for example.

“Do you want us to…?” Mikayla gestured to a different table.

Percy took a second to understand her meaning. “Um… N-no, you’re okay,” he rasped. “I… I've not told it before, but… if I'm telling her, then you might as well hear it, too.”

Mikayla nodded softly, and when she held her hand palm-up under the table he took it. She didn't complain about how tightly he squeezed her hand.

The doors to the kitchen opened and Percy’s gaze became stuck on the table. He couldn't look up. Not out of fear, just… It was too much. Too painful. None of their expressions would be easy to see, and eye contact was hard enough as-is.

“Have you decided on a story?” Medusa asked softly as she sat down. She passed out glasses of water.

Percy took a sip. His mouth and throat still felt agonizingly dry. “...We have,” he said softly. “This… Is a story from when I still lived in São Paulo.”

He took a shaky breath as he could practically feel the dirty ground beneath his sandaled feet. Years-old laughter in his throat as he raced with Beatriz and Marcos, neighbor kids who he was close with.

“Minha mãe and I weren't well off. I guess you'd say we lived in the slums,” he began softly. “But I was happy. I had Mãe, my friends, and even a few toys. Porra, sometimes we even splurged on fast food, and I got a bit of an allowance. I… I was more well off than the other kids. I guess.

“Their names were Beatriz Silva and Marcos Carvalho. I liked them a lot. They were some of the only kids who didn't tease me for having a ‘white boy name’, you know?” He chuckled weakly, honestly wishing that those comments were the worst it had ever gotten. “But, uh… Beatriz and Marco were cousins. And they had this other cousin… Older, by a few years. He watched after us. Babysitting, you know? Miguel Carvalho.”

Percy took a sip of water again. He squeezed Mikayla’s hand tighter. He felt his chest become painfully tight as he remembered Miguel and how he ruined everything. The others were dead silent.

“Miguel was okay, at first. Never really paid much attention. Called me pretty… I liked it when he did, because I thought being pretty was a good thing, you know? Minha mãe always liked it when I called her pretty, and she said I was her ‘pretty little angel’.” He chuckled without mirth, remembering how not long after they'd moved to Manhattan he'd told Mom not to call him that anymore. “...One day, Miguel started to look at me differently.

“It wasn't too gross at first, I guess. A couple weird glances when I was dancing in the sprinkler with Beatriz and Marco, s-sometimes he’d rub my head too long…” Percy shifted uncomfortably as he started to shake somewhat, but he kept going. “His hand was… Damp.”

He took another sip of water. It was almost empty.

“And then it got worse. He'd ‘accidentally’ barge into the bathroom when I was using it, or bring changes of clothes for me after I got muddy while I was playing. I thought it was a bit weird, but Tia Isadora - Beatriz’s mãe - told me I was imagining things. I figured she was right… I wish I'd told my mãe instead, but… I didn't.

“It got pretty bad. I… I asked him to stop touching my hair. He kept touching my hair. It was creeping me out,” Percy choked out. He shivered, practically feeling the almost frigid knuckles of Miguel’s hand brushing against the back of his neck. He didn't protest when Mikayla wrapped an arm around him. “...I told minha mãe I didn't want a babysitter anymore. She asked me why and I couldn't tell her, but she respected my wishes.

“I started to only play near my place. Beatriz and Marco were annoyed, but they didn't say anything. We were still friends. I was just ‘being weird’. Nothing they weren't used to,” he mumbled. “I mean, I was undiagnosed with autism and ADHD in the slums. Kind of a guarantee I'd be ‘weird’.” He shook his head, almost finding it a bit funny.

“...Miguel knew, though. He knew I was upset. He started being nice again, actually. Stopped touching me, stopped saying weird things. I thought it was going to be okay,” Percy said. He let out a bitter laugh and finished his water, grimacing. “I was… Very, very wrong.

“Miguel wanted me to trust him. He called himself my ‘friend’. He was worried that I was ‘getting the wrong idea’.” Percy scoffed, but it was a weak and obvious bluff. His hands were shaking too much to hide it. “I… I made a mistake. I was such an idiot. I went back with him. To his home. He said he had a present to make it up for me.”

Percy wrapped his arms around himself. He felt tears slide down his face as he remembered every awful second of it. The feeling of Miguel’s hands on his arms, fighting to hold him down. The sound of his voice. The horrible way he'd looked at Percy, the things he'd said. The way he tore Percy’s clothes off and pulled down his own pants.

“...I used charmspeak,” Percy whispered. “I was so scared. I begged him to let go and leave me alone. He did. He… He did what I asked, but I just… I was crying. My clothes were half-torn off me. I didn't know what to do but cry. Eventually Tia Isadora came by. She straightened me up, but… She yelled at me. Said I ‘seduced her sweet nephew’ and told me never to show my face again.”

Mikayla gently rubbed his back. He saw Miranda’s hands were clasped so tightly that the knuckles were pale. Tears were sliding down his own face.

He kept talking.

“I went home to minha mãe. I told her what happened. But uh… She said we couldn't tell the police, that I just had to avoid them. Otherwise…” Percy winced. “...Most police aren't very nice, American or otherwise. I had… hoped that Beatriz and Marcos would be nice to me, you know? That they'd still be my friends. But… no.

“They listened to Isadora. Told me I was a ‘slut’ and a ‘pervert’, and was going to ruin their cousin’s life. They uh… They hit me and sent me running home. Then I was called names. Told that I was using my face to seduce older boys. They… expected that since I was poor and pretty I'd become some whore or prostitute or something.” Percy shuddered at the thought. His Mom made sure he knew not to judge those people, but he did not want that life for himself.

Though at the same time, if Mom hadn't gotten the money to move them to Manhatten, then that would probably be the only future he had. So honestly, were they really all that wrong?

“...I lost almost everything because of Miguel. My home, my happiness, my friends… And I started hating my face and my body. These… awful things that caused him to…” Percy shuddered again, tears sliding down his face some more.

He drew his legs up, wrapping his arms around them as he leaned on Mikayla. She didn't object, holding him carefully with both arms as he fought to stifle his sobs.

“...Will that suffice?” Miranda said in a quiet, almost furious voice. Percy couldn't see her face through his tears but he was pretty sure she was holding her trident.

“...Yes,” Medusa said quietly. “That is… more than enough. I'm sorry I made you relive that. It… I know better than anyone how painful that kind of experience is, and I'm sorry you had to endure it.”

Unable to speak anymore, Percy could only give a weak whimper of acknowledgement. His words were gone, no matter the language. All he could do was cling to Mikayla as the tears fell and he tried to weather the memories of pain, unwanted touch, and terrifying words.

He saw Miranda get up and move the table before she sat on his other side. She wrapped an arm around him, resting her forehead on his shoulder. She didn't say anything and neither did Mikayla, but both of them clearly cared.

He reached up and squeezed Miranda’s arm weakly before doing the same to Mikayla’s hands. Trying to show his thanks, really. Considering they held him tighter, he figured they understood what he meant.

He knew. He knew they were doing way more than an ‘acquaintance’ would normally do. This was friend stuff. But he didn't… He couldn't call them friends. Especially now that he was remembering Beatriz and Marco.

He'd tried so hard to keep them and Miguel out of mind. Blocked them out, really. He just couldn't deal with it. They'd been friends - best friends, honestly. Practically family. They'd stuck together and promised to be friends forever as kids, but the moment Miguel started to look at Percy in that way, everything had fallen apart.

That was when it started, honestly. When he began to view his looks, body, and feminine preferences as ‘the enemy’. He used to like being called pretty and beautiful and girly. It had made him smile, and he'd kind of secretly enjoyed being called a girl.

But after Miguel… It sickened him. It made him afraid and angry and defensive and ill. He wanted nothing to do with anyone who saw him in that way. Even when other boys and girls in the American schools were starting to date and hug and stuff, he'd avoided them all. He'd stopped being physically affectionate with his mom of all people.

She'd gotten him to see a therapist, but Percy just couldn't open up to the guy before they stopped being able to afford it. That was when Yancy came into play. A private school with counselors and everything.

Counselors that dismissed Percy’s issues as ‘first-world problems’ and assumed he was some rich foreign kid with complaints about being ‘just too pretty’. So of course, Percy chose to stop talking to the counselors and grin and bear the pain. He blocked it off and pretended he was okay for his Mom’s sake. Besides, when it was all bottled up he didn't think about it so much.

‘But you still didn't waste much time trying to make yourself look uglier. You didn't want there to be another one who was as bad as Miguel,’ he thought bitterly.

There'd been damp hands, snide comments, snuck pictures, peeping toms, shirt lifting, unwanted groping… Nothing ever got as bad as Miguel, of course. But it was still bad, whether he had his barely-effective ‘ugly disguise’ on or not.

Who cared if most people treated him nicer? Did it matter if he got more smiles, when so many people demanded them of him or gave him creepy looks? Was it that great to have such a nice face if it meant withstanding all kinds of judgment and unkind words?

In Percy’s eyes, ‘pretty privilege’ felt like it was just as much of a curse as it was a blessing.