Title: Haunted
Theme: The reason he forgets the names
Author: Katie Artemis
Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians
Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I didn't own it. So unless there's going to be one of those creepy Freaky-Friday-kind of moments - no, not my characters, all belongs to Rick Riordan. ;)


Haunted

Oh, these damn campers…", Dionysus muttered as he sat down in the main house to 'enjoy' his non-alcoholic beer, which pretty much tasted like someone had already drunk it. "Damn Zeus. Damn Gods. Punishing me like this. Damn, damn, damn…"

Still whining, he turned the can into a snake, a rooster and then back into a can before he threw it into the fireplace. It exploded with a noisy, pang-y kind of sound.

Dionysus stared, and then he groaned. "You gotta be kidding me."

Smelly violet fumes rose from the flames and filled the room. Mr. D wasn't mortal, but judging by the way it stank he would have bet that stuff was disgustingly toxic, too. Burning beer cans weren't supposed to do stuff like that, right?

But okay, Dionysus had stopped asking questions many, MANY centuries ago, so he just sighed, snipped his fingers and the fog dissipated. Probably some idiot relative of his had decided to pull a slightly pointless prank. He guessed he could be happy he hadn't drunk up the whole can. It spared him waking up with an extra pair of legs the next morning or something. Maybe he was lucky and the evildoer wasn't a god but one of those weird Hermes kids and he could actually punish the brat. Still he was pretty sure it was either Apollo or Hermes himself.

Brothers were a real pain in the ass sometimes.

"Dinner's in ten minutes!" Chiron announced outside to no one in particular.

"Wow, thanks for reminding me of that, smartass" Dionysus grunted as he crossed out just another day in his calendar. That left him with… a couple million more days until his release. Super. Real great prospects.

"Hey, nephew. Why so annoyed?"

Dionysus turned around. He shouldn't have been that surprised to see his uncle standing in the doorway, given the circumstance that he was a god and could appear any minute wherever he wanted to – still, seeing him at camp wasn't exactly ordinary. He had never come over, not even when his own children had still been running around here a few decades ago.

Still, there he was, leaning against the wall casually, wearing those drop-dead goofy flip-flops and the hideous shirt with the monkeys and bananas. Looking at him like that, Dionysus could only wonder despite his looks how his uncle had ever gotten any girl. That style was so utterly tasteless that even he as the god of lunatics could have run away screaming. Seriously? He could look exactly like he wanted to and he decided to look like a psychotic beach bum?

And… He was, what, in his twenties? That reminded Dionysus of the time it had taken him to get used to how his godly relatives were constantly changing their age. One day they were walking about as children, the next they looked like they'd fall over and decompose any minute. Apollo looked especially stupid as an eighty-year-old. Dionysus was by now pretty sure the God of music didn't stick to his teenage form because of his youthfulness but because any other age looked ridiculous on him.

"Hi, Poseidon", Dionysus replied half-heartedly, deciding to ignore the previous question. It wasn't exactly a secret that he hated playing the babysitter. "Nice shirt. Who threw up on it?"

"Wow, feel the love", Poseidon chuckled and came into the room. Then he wrinkled his nose. "Ew, what's with the smell? Like someone crawled in here and died…"

"I'm guessing Apollo."

"Apollo's dead?"

"Not yet."

"Ah."

Dionysus raised an eyebrow. "How come every single conversation with you takes a weird turn?"

"Hello? Seen the shirt? Do I look like I socialize normally?" Poseidon said, grinning as he sat down on the couch next to his nephew.

"So I'll just have to accept the fact that you're completely wacko?"

"Yup."

"But you do know that in the mortal world, you wouldn't have any friends?"

"Sure. If the guy with the leopard-print jogging-suit says so."

Dionysus looked down at his jumpers. "Okay, so that's all settled. So… I assume you're not just dropping by to insult my smelly house?"

Suddenly, Poseidon's gaze turned solemn as he looked out of the window. The children were gathering for supper by now, each cabin being summoned by their tutor. For a second Mr. D wondered whether one of those unclaimed kids at the Hermes cabin was Poseidon's given the intense stare his uncle was giving them. He ruled out the possibility after giving it a little thought, though. As a god, he would have sensed the presence of a half-blood that strong.

"Say, Dionysus…" Poseidon started, still not turning to look at him. "How's the camp doing? Is it still safe?"

Dionysus took a slightly shaky breath. He started to suspect where this was heading.

"Sure is. The borders are strong and the campers… well, they're doing well. There hasn't been a major fight in a couple of years, so those who return for the summer become better fighters by the day. I guess they have to. Why'd ya ask?"

Poseidon finally turned away from the window and looked at Dionysus. His sea green eyes were anxious and he didn't seem to be able to hold the other god's glance for longer than a second, his gaze already wandering off to the decorations on the wall.

"You broke the oath, didn't you?" Dionysus asked with an oddly soft voice.

"Yes."

Poseidon whispered, even though they both knew there was no place in this world for them to talk where no one could be eavesdropping right at that second. That was the burden a god had to take. No matter where he was, no matter what he was doing – someone was always watching and he knew it.

They could only hope the other gods' minds were elsewhere right now.

"How old is it?" Dionysus asked calmly.

Poseidon blushed. "Six months. It's a boy."

"Oh Gods."

"I know."

Dionysus saw the sea god tightly grab the hem of his shirt. Evidently, he was nervous about what was to come. 'How could you?' or 'Kill it'. That was most certainly what Hera and some of the other gods would say.

"So, he's… alive", Dionysus stated.

"Yes."

"You have considered…?"

Poseidon leaned down and buried his face in his hands. "Yes, I considered… killing him. I just… I went to his mother's place just a couple of nights ago to… And he was lying there in the crib, slumbering… I already put my hand to his small forehead… But in his sleep, he reached for me with those tiny fingers, and when his eyes opened… He… He looks so much like me, Dionysus, it actually physically stung to see my own eyes staring up at me, like, 'what's going on?' At that moment, I realized that there may be many guilty ones in this story, especially me, but he is the only innocent one and he shouldn't be the one suffering."

Dionysus remained silent, and so did he for a couple of moments.

"Will you tell the others?" the god of wine eventually asked.

Poseidon made a face.

"Right, stupid question. Forget it. So, anyway… That mortal – she knows, right?"

"Yeah. I told her everything about the prophecy. She knows."

Again for a few seconds, no one said anything. Outside, the horn was announcing the beginning of dinner. Dionysus would run late that night.

"… Then give her a map that will lead him to camp eventually."

Poseidon just stared.

"What? That is what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to take in that child of yours in a couple of years even though he might be the doom of us all? Yeah, will do."

"You are serious?"

Dionysus shrugged. "Well, I've heard the weather in Tartarus isn't that bad, you know? In the end we'll all rot in hell anyway, one way or another. Stupid prophecy's gonna kick in, no matter how hard we try. Besides, there's already that Tina something-or-other of Zeus's."

"So… you won't harm my son?" Poseidon asked slowly.

The other man just grinned. "I didn't say that. I just won't rat you out until you claim him, that's all. Well… if the boy even makes it that far."

Poseidon paused. "You're mean. And strange. But… thank you."

"Not weird, dear uncle. Crazy. But will you excuse me now? I've got a dinner with ninety-two hormone-ridden weirdos with face conditions to attend."

Dionysus had already gotten up and gone to the door as Poseidon stopped him by saying: "Wait."

He turned around. "Hm?"

The sea god caught him completely off guard by giving him a splendid smile.

"Secretly you like children, don't you?"

Dionysus froze and then he grimaced. "What? Are you saying that I'm some sort of paedophile now?"

"You didn't ask what my son's name was" Poseidon explained, ignoring the comment. "And you can't remember Zeus's daughter's, either? And you forget all the other half-bloods' names, too… A couple of years ago, your memory wasn't that flawed. But you do know there are exactly ninety-two campers."

"How does that make me a child friendly person?" Mr. D asked carefully.

Poseidon got up and his trident appeared in his hand in a gesture that was as natural to him as breathing. "You love those children so much that you can't bear the pain of remembering their names when they don't return to camp next summer. That's so nice of you."

Dionysus laughed a cheerless laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it? Dionysus… Let me tell you something."

Poseidon took a step towards his once-mortal relative and looked him deep in the eye.

"I know your memory's just fine. But you and I… We might have understood something the other gods haven't."

He stepped back again, raising the trident, obviously getting ready to leave. His eyes looked ancient and sad, clearly carrying the pain and grief of a thousand lifetimes.

"We gods are flawless. We rule the world. But… We are haunted by the names of people we loved and lost."

Again, it stayed silent for a long time. As the words sank in, Dionysus felt the need to escape the situation.

"… Geez. Now that sounds wise."

Poseidon rolled his eyes. "Bah, shut it. Wisdom stinks."

"Well, then it fits this room quite well. I'll leave now before I faint."

"Now that you say it… Gotta go. Anyway – thank you."

In the same split second, Poseidon dissolved into thin air and there was a knock on the door. A wave of freezing wind washed through the room, mysteriously leaving all the stuff untouched. But the stupid smell was gone.

Chiron rolled in with his wheelchair just a second later.

"Dionysus, where have you been? Dinner started ten minutes ago", the old centaur scolded. "And why does it smell so… fresh?"

Mr. D, still slightly dumbstruck, just stood and stared for a second. Then he gathered his senses again before letting himself fall on the couch.

"Oh, there was this big fat horny air freshener that psychoanalyzed me. No big deal."

Having dealt with the god of craziness for many centuries, Chiron didn't seem surprised at all. "Aha. I'll see you in five. Put on something the children won't be afraid of."

"Will do."

The door slammed shut, leaving the god alone again. He knew he would never forget this particular talk.

And then, twelve years later, this boy stood on his porch, his eyes defiant and stunningly green, black hair sticking from his head like he'd never been acquainted with a comb.

Dionysus hated that kid the second he first saw him. He knew that no matter how this so very doomed child developed…

Percy Jackson was the name he would never be able to forget.


Hi guys! :)
There isn't much to say about this particular OS. It's just a feeling I've had throughout all the books that there's more to Dionysus' habit of forgetting the campers' names... It might have ended up a little too fluffy and so on, but I hope you still liked it. :) I have a feeling that at least the idea's new... At least I haven't come across another fanfiction that deals with it.

Have a nice day ;)
~ KatieArtemis