Chapter Text
“You found a way to send me home?” Percy asked, his voice quieter than he meant it to be.
“I said ‘may have found,’” Poseidon corrected. “I am uncertain it will work, since nothing like this has been tested before. But she has agreed to help.”
“She?”
“My eldest sister, Hestia. Goddess of the home and hearth. She believes she can get you home.”
The words echoed in Percy’s head on repeat, like a broken record. Hestia, goddess of home, could get it home. Had it been that easy this entire time?
“Thank you,” Percy muttered, though his brain was still trying to catch up.
Poseidon didn’t smile. “There is one obstacle, however. And you will need to be completely honest with me.”
Percy tapped his fingers impatiently. Gods and their dramatic pauses. “Obstacle?” he prodded.
“The Moirai. You said they were the ones who brought you here. You have now accepted your godhood, at least partially, which you claimed was their demand. I need to know if there is another reason they would object to you returning.”
Percy’s stomach twisted. He thought back to his creepy chat with the Fates.
“They said they sent me here because I refused godhood. And that they wouldn’t help me go back.” He frowned. “I don’t know if that was punishment.”
Poseidon looked pained, like admitting it chipped at his godly pride. “I am no longer the foremost expert on prophecy. You may visit Paeon. Perhaps he can shed more light.”
Percy grinned before he could stop himself. “Shed more light,” he repeated. “Was that a pun?”
Poseidon grinned back. Yeah, it was intentional.
“Why do you even call him that?” Percy asked.
“It is one of his epithets,” Poseidon said, as if that explained everything.
“Uh-huh. And that means…?”
Poseidon muttered to himself, clearly baffled. “Most gods are born knowing such things… but of course that would not be the case for you…but why would you not learn that as a mortal?” He tilted his head, looking like some kind of dangerous sea puppy trying to figure Percy out.
Percy rolled his eyes. “So what’s an epithet?”
“An epithet is an aspect of a god. Mortals use them when they wish to pray to a certain part of us. For example, Paeon is Apollo’s aspect as healer of the gods. If a mortal wished to speak to his healing side, they would call him Akestor.”
Percy squinted. “So if I tell one of his aspects something, the others know too? Or are they like… different people with the same face?”
Poseidon actually laughed. Percy felt vaguely offended.
“He has many aspects, but he is one god. Think of it like… a broken mirror. Each shard reflects, but all are part of the same whole.”
Percy thought that was the dumbest metaphor ever, but yeah, he got the point.
“What other epithets does he have?” he asked.
Poseidon sniffed, nose in the air. “I certainly do not waste my time memorizing every one of Apollo’s aspects.”
Percy bristled on Apollo’s behalf, even though he was still mad at him. He decided not to ask Poseidon about his own epithets out of pure spite.
Poseidon, of course, kept going. “So many of Apollo’s epithets derive from his lovers. His very identity is shaped by mortals who achieved nothing of note beyond their beauty.”
Heat flared in Percy’s chest.
“People are shaped by who they love,” Percy shot back.
“Exactly. And he has allowed his divinity to be diluted by mortals,” Poseidon said, oblivious to Percy’s rising anger.
“Screw you,” Percy snapped.
Poseidon blinked, confused.
“I said, screw you!” Percy shouted louder. Then he realized he was yelling in English. Poseidon didn’t know the words, but judging by his face, he got the gist.
“I was raised by a mortal woman,” Percy growled. “My best friends are mortals. I grew up mortal. You think that makes me weak?”
“I understand-”
“No, you don’t!” Percy’s voice cracked, but he didn’t care. “You don’t know what it’s like to fight a Minotaur when you’re twelve. You don’t know what it’s like to march into war when you’re a kid and know you might not make it out. You don’t know what it’s like!”
Poseidon stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Fuck you,” Percy spat.
Poseidon’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“I understand that you have been through much,” Poseidon said in a voice like he had been gargling glass. “I have tried to help you by contacting my sister and helping you control your venom. Do not spit in my hospitality.”
Percy stared angrily for a while before taking a deep breath. His dad was right. About the part that he was trying to help Percy, anyway. He couldn’t afford to alienate him.
“Sorry, Dad,” Percy said softly.
Poseidon’s frown dropped instantly, and he smiled indulgently. “Get some rest, son. We can practice more tomorrow.”
Percy tried to do as he said. He lay down in his bed, curled up with Sausage by his feet. His poison didn’t seem to affect hellhounds, thankfully. Instead of sleeping, he thought about the possibility of leaving his life here and going back home. He missed it desperately, but the thought of leaving made him feel uneasy. He had Apollo here in a different way than in the future. The same could be said for Triton and Amphitrite. He didn’t have Sausage at all in the future. He knew monsters could live forever (and Sausage was technically a monster, although he would never call him that). Would Sausage wait around for him for 4 thousand years? Would he answer when Percy called for him? He didn’t know. Even if everything else worked perfectly, he knew he couldn’t go anywhere until his poison was under full control. That was without even considering the whole immortality thing. He wondered, horrifyingly, if it would take him all four hundred years to master his power, and he wouldn’t even need to time-travel at all.
He was brought out of his thoughts by his foot being tickled. He blinked and noticed Sausage was frantically licking his foot.
“Gross,” he told Sausage, although he was secretly grateful to be brought out of his thoughts. He tried to telepathically send the message “I am from the future” to Sausage. Sausage merely blinked in confusion. Instead, Percy sent quick images of his mom, his sister, Paul, and everyone at Camp Half-Blood. Sausage sent him the feeling of warmth.
“That’s right, buddy,” Percy said, gently patting his head. “You’re gonna meet them someday, I don’t care what it takes. You’re going to love Mrs. O’Leary. She’s giant. Maybe your last name could be Mrs. O’Leary? Sausage O’Leary. I dunno, kind of has a ring to it.”
Percy continued to chatter to Sausage until his eyelids grew heavy and he slid into a peaceful sleep.
The next day, Percy sat down at the dining table and was confronted with a plate filled with seaweed. Amphitrite sat across from him.
‘What happened to having a varied diet?” Percy complained.
“Poseidon says this will be helpful for your training. Try to take the poison out before you eat it,” she said as Percy was about to bite into a leaf. He hastily lowered it back onto his plate.
“Dad is trying to poison me?” he said in a squeaky voice.
“No, sweetie. You would likely be fine if you ate it like that. The point is, these plants hold a variety of different kinds of poison. We were hoping you would have an easier time with at least one of them,” she explained.
He looked doubtful at the plate of leaves. He wondered why they decided to make this activity part of breakfast. Kind of ruined his appetite to think about his power over poison. He looked at the leaf he had planned to bite into. It was dark purple with big pods like some kind of kelp. He didn’t want to have something that could so easily hurt the people he loved. But…if he couldn’t control it, then he would hurt them. He needed to be able to use this power.
He imagined the poison he could sense inside gently streaming into the water. Nothing happened. He glared at the leaf. What kind of plant was purple, anyway? Stupid plant. He stuck out his hand, pretending that the venom was like a sword. They were both weapons, right? And he should be able to choose who he hurts them with. He tried to imagine holding the venom in his hand. He turned to the right, stabbing an invisible person in front of him. He felt a pull behind his navel, and suddenly, purple was oozing into the water.
“I did it!” Percy yelled. He realized he was standing a second later. Huh. He guessed the ADHD had stayed when he turned into a God.
“You did it,” Amphitrite repeated in a softer tone.
“I did it,” Percy said again, feeling a dumb grin overtake his face. He felt the grin slide off as he had another thought. “It took me so long to do this, and to control my other powers when I was a kid. How long will this take?”
Amphitrite stood and circled around the table. She placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It has only been a few days, and you have already been able to move poison. You have done much in a short period of time. I am unconcerned. I know you will master it sooner than you think,” she said gently.
He relaxed into her hold. She was right. He was making progress, and he had people to help him with it. He would get there in time.