Hermes
He remembers their mother. So bright-eyed and clever, so sharp-tongued and bold. Too bold. Much too bold. Pickpocketing his wallet and keys with her cheeky smile and larger than life personality. Cheerfully, casually persuading him to let her have it when he catches her trying to sneak away.
Confident. Just like May had once been.
Levelheaded. Just like May had once been.
A kind and loving mother. Just like May had once been.
She looks at their first born with the same love and awe May once had for her own child, before she stubbornly tried to take on the oracle, before seeing Luke's fate had driven her mad. Maybe it's those similarities that stops him from telling her his true origin, fearing that she will end up with the same fate. As far as she knows, he was just a businessman spending his off day at the bar. Just a normal man. And her child, a normal child.
As Hermes holds Travis in his arms for the first time in the child's bedroom, all he sees is the blue eyes, a shade of blue darker than May's and Luke's, but blue all the same and it's enough to remind Hermes of his tragic lover and son.
He leaves, as they all do, to attend to his godly duties and other whatnot. He does visit. Occasionally. But what seems like a second for him is enough for Travis to be crawling, babbling even, in long-winded chatters in between the plastic key ring he gnaws at. Blue eyes meet his and light with excitement, a small hand grabs at him and it's like a dagger to the heart as he lets the child grasp his finger.
"You missed his first word." Their mother bounces Travis's on her lap, her smile smug and wide. "It was mama, if you were wondering."
"Oh."
May had also said something similar once. A taunt, a dare, an invitation, a plea to be more in their child's life.
Connor was completely unintended but perhaps all their children are unintended. He had only meant to check up on them since he was in the area, not stay the night, not give Travis a younger brother.
But so it happens and nine months later, Connor is a splitting image of his older brother. If he hadn't been there at their births, he would think they were twins.
He should tell her. He should have told her then. About who he is. What their children are. The dangers they bring. The precautions to take. Where Camp Half Blood is. That if it all becomes too much, he will guide them to the camp.
But May is getting worse day by day. Luke is running away from home.
And he just doesn't have time for stuff like this.
He leaves without telling them anything.
Three years later, he meets them again in a hospital when George and Martha tell him of an attempted attack.
Travis, with a long angry red gash on his arm, stitched and wrapped and treated. Connor, unharmed but sniffling and terrified and huddled in a ball between his brother and mother. And their mother, in the hospital bed, sprouting three broken ribs, a broken leg, a punctured lung, left eye gone, right hand amputated, mythological books laid out all over the room.
"Hermes?" is the first thing she says when he enters, voice shaky with disbelief. Fear. Anger. Fury. "That's your real name, isn't it? And you're a god? An actual god?"
He talked then. Who he is. What he does. What their children can or will eventually be capable of. The do-s and don't-s of raising demigod children.
He can see it already. The afflicting resentment. The horrifying realization. The mother accepts his explanations with a steely gaze and clipped nods that do nothing to hide the resentment.
You lied. I don't want this for my children. We're in constant danger. They'll live in fear. They'll never be safe. I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm scared. He can practically hear those thoughts
But all she says is "Get out."
Bitterness. Hostility. Loathing.
He has seen this before time and time again. The same tale over and over for millennia. One tragic story after another. What's one more? It's not like he's particularly bonded with them. If they were to die… he'll be sad but he'll move on just like he did with hundreds of his children. But It's the twin pair of blue eyes, blue like Luke's, wide and scared, that has him warning the family.
"We're gods. Immortals. We've been alive for thousands of years. We've seen countless horrors and marvels. Experienced almost all that there is to experience. But all that experience did not make us as benevolent nor tolerant as some books like to portray. You would be wise to never show ill intent."
Her jaw snaps close, face paling underneath the hospital's fluorescent light. She understands. He knows she understands what he meant. Then why. Why…
He keeps an eye on them when he's not too busy. Not too much. Just checking in every now and then to make sure he's not needed.
It's how he hears her, stumbling around in her apartment in a tipsy way, a bottle dangerously loose in her grip. She messes with some warding charms near the windows and doors before sauntering to the freezer for a frozen meal.
Travis and Connor pop out of their shared room and ask for a bedtime story in unison, side by side, with a cheeky, lopsided, identical grin on their identical faces. Time passed since the hospital. A week. A month. Maybe a year. But not long enough. His children are still clearly and undeniably children .
"Of course," she says, looking down with her one eye at the pair that could be mistaken as twins, "I'll tell you two a bedtime story."
So they sat together in a circle in Travis's and Connor's room in the middle of a rug with a book in the center. And when their mother starts telling the story, Hermes knows where she's going with it. She can't. It won't end well. He has to do something. If not to save her, then the two innocents. But the Fates decreed it so. It must happen. He can't intervene.
"Let's read the story about Niobe and her 14 children. Seven boys and seven girls. Crazy, right! Can you imagine having 12 more siblings? Think of all the fun you guys can have! Well, Niobe was really proud of her 14 beautiful children. So proud in fact she said some really mean things about this titan right here. Her name is Leto. Leto only raised two children compared to Niobe's 14. And Niobe thinks that makes her better. Apollo and Artemis, Leto's two children, heard of Niobe's boosting and came to defend their mother's name. Apollo and Artemis took away Niobe's 14 children. And now Niobe was left with no one and nothing. It's a story about comparing yourself to others. Just because you have more, doesn't make you better. Niobe said some mean stuff and now she's alone.
…
But… you know… what Apollo and Artemis did was also wrong. Niobe was the one who was badmouthing their mother. Why did the children have to suffer? Why were they wrung into their mom's mistake? Why take it out of them? I don't get it. I don't get any of them. Why can't they just talk to us? Whatever. I don't care anymore. Niobe is a shit person for bragging. Apollo and Artemis are shit people for killing innocents. And their mother is a shit person for raising shit children."
He has seen this before time and time again. The same tale over and over for millennia. One tragic story after another.
And what's one more?
Artemis doesn't hesitate. She appears in the room in a sudden and draws back her arrows, face cold and furious, and lets them fly, three piercing his foolish lover and the two children's hearts and more flying out the window. Apollo just barely spares him a glance of pity before shooting his own batch of arrows, a matching scowl to his twin sister. Just as fast as they appear they disappear, leaving a horror struck mother and father with their two clueless, oblivious children.
Artemis's curse. Come day, frigid cold will penetrate and pierce.
Apollo's. Come night, burning heat will persist and simmer.
This can't be real. I'm just dreaming, just a dream, not real, not real are her thoughts.
I'm just dreaming.
Even when she got the call her mother suffered a heat stroke in the dead of night the next day, passing away disoriented with failing organs.
I'm just dreaming.
Even when her father suffered the same as the mother the very next night, fighting in the hospital only to succumb to a heart attack once the sun peaked the horizon.
I'm just dreaming.
Even when the same happened to her brother the following night, a heat stroke followed by a heart attack. Even then, not real not real just a coincidence can't be real not real not real.
It's only when she herself is in the hospital that Hermes finally hears her asking for him. He stands over her fever-ridden body, her two children asleep and curled in her arms. The sun settled hours ago. Apollo's curse is taking its toll and when the sun rises, she'll be dead in seconds from Artemis's curse. There's nothing he can do for her or for them. Nothing he can do to fix this. nothing he can do to save them. Besides, she brought this onto herself. This is her fault. He warned her. He did. He tried. He did nothing wrong. What more could he have done? He can't argue against his half-siblings. He can't go against the Fates. Why did he even come here? He should just leave. But his legs refuse to obey him and he just stands there, kneeling beside a dying family, brushing wet strands of hair from feverish skin.
"Please save them," she asks simply.
And Hermes finds himself caving in seconds, nodding and squeezing her hands and saying he will.
Nevermind the fact he can't keep that promise entirely. Nevermind the fact Apollo and Artemis won't retract their curses. Nevermind the fact one of his children will for sure not make it. He lies to her face, watches it relax in relief as her consciousness leaves her. She won't wake up again. She won't know what he plans to do.
He wakes the two children, two identical faces blink blearily up at him. They rub their eyes in sync and yawn in unison. And when he tells them he knows the cure, he watches their eyes light up in hope.
"One of you would have to go get the medicine though. The other has to stay and keep mommy company so she's not lonely," he lies as easily as breathing, already deciding on who would go, who would live. But a choice creates an illusion of honesty. And though they're children, they're his children and they are gifted with his powers. A bad lie and no one gets to live.
"Travis should because he's faster," Connor says
"Connor should because he's smarter," Travis says.
Hermes fakes a smile and pats his sons' heads. "I do need a very smart kid. What do you say, Connor? Want to go to the wolf house? You like dogs, don't you?"
"Only the strong survive," Lupa sneers at him and Connor sleeping in his arms, "Does this child look strong to you? I've seen stronger children younger than him."
Hermes grits his teeth. "You've just seen one and Jason is built differently."
"He would fare better if he were with his breathens on the East coast."
"The mist will stick better the less connections he has with anything Greek."
"He'll die just making his way to camp," Lupa tells him.
"No, he won't," Hermes argues.
"I won't allow the weak to wither the legion. Don't expect me to help just because you are invested," the immortal warns.
"I know," Hermes says, clutching Connor tighter to him. "If he doesn't make it, then I'll accept it."
Connor does make it.
Connor does fantastic for a four year old.
Connor finds out that his intention was to rescue him and only him.
It's not like he jumped immediately to 'let's abandon one of his children' plan. He did try to save both.
The curse is tied to their family name so if he just erased both their memories then it should be all good. Except as soon as Connor and Travis see each other again all of Hermes's hard work is undone and those two remember everything and they're back to square one.
So just send one to Camp Jupiter and one to Camp Half Blood. Except the camps were inevitably going to learn of each other's existence and they would meet up again and he would be back to square one. Or worst case scenario, he doesn't intercept their meeting in time. They both remember. And they both die.
No… what he's doing… what he's doing is ensuring that one will survive for sure from the curse his brother and sister afflicted upon them.
Even if Connor says no and tries to escape back to his brother. Even if Connor screams he hates him. Even if Connor promises that he'll remember everything one day and will come to kill him. Even if Connor glares at him with the same hate in his eyes as Luke's. Even with all that, Hermes knows he's doing the right thing. He has to believe it.
Better to have one dead than both.
… right?
Travis is gone by the time he makes it back.
Nowhere to be found in the hospital. Nowhere to be found in the mortuary. Nowhere to be found in the Underworld. Not a single trace or clue to where he might have gone no matter how deep and far Hermes looked. Travis is just gone.
Seven years later he sees Travis again on Half Blood Hill, guided to camp by Perseus Jackson.
Older and taller. Lean and wiry. Same crooked grin. Same flippant, frivolous attitude. Same happy-go-lucky personality. And when Travis introduces himself as Travis Stoll , Hermes asks how.
"You don't have to know," is all his son says.
Unsatisfied, Hermes asks again, "But you can't possibly have — how did you — the-the cu—"
"You don't have to know," Travis repeats, harsher this time, words holding more weight, and Hermes finds himself nodding along. He doesn't have to know. Why does he need to know? Why does it matter? Travis is alive. That's all that matters and he never broke his promise to their mother. He should just leave it at that.
It's when Connor makes his way to Camp Half Blood years later and Travis is completely unaffected by all his attempts to kick him out of Connor's subconscious that Hermes thinks, just a little, just maybe, just possibly, he does need to know what happened.
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading!