Finally Home
Five years after the Second Giant War, the demigods of both Greek and Roman gods were finally getting a taste of peace. Teenagers scarred from the wars they valiantly fought in were able to gain a somewhat normal life, whether it was college or marriage. Those that died were honored, their memories of the impact they left lived on with those that survived and their stories told constantly to younger, more innocent demigods.
Likely one of the most common stories told, though, was the life of the Savior of Olympus, Percy Jackson. His story was one that would live on for centuries, but even after five years, he was already something of a legend to everyone. Recounts of his quests entered the campfire circle at Camp-Half Blood every summer and his name was often conversation at Camp Jupiter while the fifth cohort played War Games.
As everyone knew his name and his feats, they also knew his fate. A fate worse than any punishment Hades could offer. A fate so horrible that not even Zeus would want it for him. It was a fate no hero ever faced, but the one the greatest of all received.
It was during the quest through Ancient Lands with the rest of seven when many said they saw their last glimpse of Percy Jackson as he tumbled into a deep, dark chasm with Annabeth Chase in his arms. No doubt, unimaginable horrors awaited the two at the bottom, but no one ever really knew what all they faced together as they made the impossible trek through Tartarus. The only thing they did know was that when the two reached the Doors of Death in the center of Tartarus, brave, sixteen-year-old Percy Jackson shoved the love of his life through those elevator doors and sacrificed himself to holding the elevator button for twelve long minutes.
Some would ignorantly claim it was his last act for Olympus, but those who truly knew him all knew that the only thought on Percy's mind was keeping Annabeth safe.
His soul would never reach the Underworld. They say when a mortal dies down there, their soul is forever trapped with the horrors of Tartarus. In fact, the moment the Doors of Death closed, Nico di Angelo could not even sense his friend's soul. And so Percy Jackson's story becomes even more tragic, because not even in death will he be reunited with his love.
Annabeth Chase herself never could move on from her loss. A part of her ached to die and be with him, but she knew that would do no good considering his soul would never see the Underworld. She decided instead of living out the rest of her life in agony without her other half, she would live in his memory, knowing that Percy had not saved her just so she could sulk through life. She looked for the support of her friends and family, opening up to people like Piper and Thalia about how she was feeling. Annabeth found herself at Sally Jackson's house every other day for the longest time, too. Sally would tearfully tell Annabeth stories of Percy growing up, whether it was about his first bath or all the times he got suspended. Annabeth didn't care how meaningless the stories were, she clung onto every word Sally said with an intangible feeling aching through her body. She desperately found every detail of Percy's life like a puzzle she needed to put together. Maybe she hoped if she could finish the puzzle, she'd bring him back. She never seemed to find all the pieces, though.
Eventually, Annabeth graduated from college in New Rome and received a job in architecture back in New York City. She got herself a fairly decent apartment in the city and would often visit Camp Half-Blood or her practically adoptive mother, Sally Jackson.
Despite it all, after five years without him, Annabeth couldn't help it when she woke up every day and wondered what her life would be like if Percy was still alive. She could still hauntingly remember his face, sea green eyes shining with determination, as those elevator doors closed. His last words to her: I love you.
It was easier for the rest of the seven and Percy's friends to move on. Leo Valdez found his way back to Camp Half-Blood with his girlfriend, Calypso, in tow. True to his word, they opened a repair shop together in New Rome after Leo voiced several apologies to the Senate about trying to blow New Rome up with the Argo II.
Piper McLean had it hard after Jason's death during the time after the wars when a bunch of dead Roman emperors decided to come back and wreak havoc. She had moved from California with her dad and stayed with some family on his side for some time before her decision to move to San Francisco, right outside of Camp Jupiter, with her girlfriend and try a job in restaurant management. Turns out charmspeak can help quite a bit in calming down rowdy customers.
Frank Zhang and Hazel Levesque were the luckiest of the seven. After Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano left to be a Hunter of Artemis with lieutenant Thalia Grace, Hazel took her spot as praetor. Together, the two have led the Twelfth Legion side by side. Recently, they even decided to get engaged.
Nico di Angelo could likely claim with full confidence that he would've never survived those five years after the wars if it weren't for the sunny son of Apollo, Will Solace. If not for his boyfriend, he probably would've wasted away in Hades Cabin till he died of malnutrition. Instead, Will taught the lost soul how to smile and laugh for a change. They both opted to stay at Camp Half-Blood, Will as head doctor and Nico teaching the occasional sword lesson.
Grover Underwood continued his duties as Lord of the Wild knowing the friend he'd known for years was dead. He missed the feeling of connection the two always had with their empathy link. It had weakened after Percy was kidnapped by Hera and sent to Camp Jupiter, but even then, Grover remembered the exact moment months later when it broke completely. Later on, he would learn that it happened the same moment the Doors of Death were closed, and Percy doomed his soul for all eternity. The break didn't kill Grover or even send him in to a comatose state, but never did Grover lose the feeling loss in himself, like a part of him died with
Percy.
Surprisingly so, after five years, not much really changed. Chiron still taught all the young heroes at Camp Half-Blood. Rachel was still the Oracle who spouted prophecies for them. Clarisse, the Stolls, and a few others still came back to Camp Half-Blood for the summer whenever they could. The gods still seemed very busy since more and more half-bloods showed up at both camps each year. Things seemed surprisingly well.
Things hadn't been going well for Percy Jackson, though. Down in Tartarus where the sun doesn't shine, Percy has been struggling to survive. Sometimes he'll wonder if there's even a point to it. All the pain and suffering was overwhelming, so he really couldn't help but wonder what the point of it was. The moment those twelve minutes of pressing the elevator button for Annabeth were over, Percy completely accepted the fact that he was going to die. Afterall, who really expected to win against a horde of monsters and an almighty Primordial god.
Put in a situation with no other outcome but death, Percy did what he was best at: shouting horrible battle cries and ticking off powerful deities. Imagine his surprise when, after quite literally cursing out the personification of Tartarus with some profanity that would have his mother shoving soap in his mouth, Tartarus actually shrugs his ugly shoulders and leaves. The dude tells Percy he'll be a nice source of amusement for him and to enjoy his stay. Percy decides that if he ever sees the personification again, he'll tell him to go shove it.
Percy knew the Doors of Death weren't the only way out of Tartarus. Monsters found ways to sneak their ugly faces out of the place all the time, so surely Percy could do the same.
Unfortunately for him, finding a way out of Tartarus was probably even harder than it sounded. After years of accumulating enemies in the mortal world, it seemed they really had a knack for finding him in Tartarus. Percy wanted to say he showed all those monsters up for the second time, but in reality, he really got some blows handed to him. He received plenty of scars over the years, but the only part that truly saddened Percy was how he lost his left pinky finger in another fight against the Minotaur. Beef Boy really had it out for him.
After five years of dreaming of sunlight and stormy gray eyes, he finally got one of his dreams to come true. Percy fought his way through a passageway from Tartarus, gaining even more cuts and scrapes that caused him to look like a homeless person. Then he climbed a stairwell. And he kept climbing it. Step after step after step. It seemed like there would also be another step to climb. Percy tried to count them. He got bored after he got to 300.
Just when he was almost about to give up, he saw light. It wasn't the reddish glow of Tartarus, either; it was real, true light. Sunlight, he realized, feeling the giddiness of hope pounding through his bloodstream stronger than it has in years. Annabeth is somewhere in the sunlight. He started to thank every god he could think of as the sun's glare continued to grow stronger the more steps he walked up. Then he started cursing them when the brightness started to really hurt his eyes. Five years of seeing no real light; it was bound to happen.
When he finally reached the top of the staircase, his legs ached so badly that they simply refused to work anymore. Percy collapsed into himself with joy as he shielded his eyes by cupping a hand over them on his forehead. He looked out from the hole in the ground he came from and saw things he hadn't seen in a long, long time. Trees. Hills. Grass. The sight made him cry.
Admittedly, Percy cried quite a bit while in Tartarus. He would wait till night when he was positive he was safe to wallow in self-pity. He would think of his mother, his friends, and mostly Annabeth. He yearned for nothing more all those years just to see them again. Now, relief could bleed through his body since he knew he was guaranteed to see them all again. Even if he was shot right here in this empty field he sat in, his soul could finally go to the Underworld where it belonged.
Percy wasn't sure how long he had laid there pathetically on the ground in the middle of the field weeping in relief, but at some point, exhaustion must have overtaken him and darkness covered his vision. The lull of dreamless sleep was like a welcoming to the mortal world.
When he woke up, the first thing he saw was the stars. He wasn't sure how long he just stared at them, wondering if it was a dream but knowing it was not. He scanned through all the constellations, eyes easily picking out The Huntress as he enjoyed the fact that it was the first time in five years, he'd seen the stars.
He wasn't sure when his mind resolved to get up and leave the field, but eventually Percy did, under the blanket of the stars. Most would be scared to walk in the middle of the night with no civilization in sight, but to Percy, it was a huge upgrade for Tartarus.
He began to pass by rural homes at first. A thought crossed his mind that he could try knocking on one of the doors and asking to borrow a phone to make a call– to whom he would call, he did not know (perhaps his mom or Annabeth). That thought left his mind however when he considered the fact that he was covered in blood (his own, of course) and his clothes were shredded, hanging together around his body by the mere threads. Likely, the mortals would think he was some deranged serial killer and call the police on him. The last thing Percy wanted was his friends figuring out he was back by watching a news announcement.
Rural changed to suburbs and next thing Percy knew, he was staring wide-eyed at the city home to the Golden Gate Bridge as the sun crested the mountains behind him. People, real life people going on about their day to day lives without realizing that there was someone among them that hadn't seen another being in five years. Percy didn't know how long it had been since he had seen another person, of course, but to him, it seemed an eternity. That was probably why he was grinning widely as he walked down through the streets of San Francisco grinning from ear-to-ear. He gathered many concerned looks, albeit he was still openly bleeding from cuts and stabs in some places while looking like it was Christmas, but he didn't really care.
Percy already knew where he wanted to go the moment he saw the Golden Gate Bridge: Camp Jupiter. There he would see other demigods, maybe even some of his Roman friends like Frank, Hazel, and Reyna. He could probably even add in the fact about how he used to be a praetor for some extra brownie points if anyone he didn't know asked.
His memory served him right from when he thought back to the first time he went to the camp. That time he had to carry a hippie-styled Roman Hera while being chased by two ugly Gorgans. Good times. This time he leisurely walked towards the cave entrance where two guards were ready to meet him.
When they first saw him, they both looked horrified, asking if he was okay and ready to drag him to the infirmary. They were completely thrown off by his upbeat demeanor looking at him for loss of words when he asked them if they could show him to the nearest showers.
"You guys have names?" Percy asked them as they started to make their way towards Camp Jupiter in an awkward silence.
"I'm Josh," the boy with long brown hair to his shoulders said before pointing to the girl with her bright blue eyes of concern beside him. "And that's Lacy." Josh was tall and lanky to Lacy's short and stockiness.
"Cool," they had begun to walk across the River Tiber, "Have you guys been here for long, then?"
Lacy gave him a weary smile, "I'm a centaurn by two years and Josh just got here a few months back so he's still on probation."
It felt so weird to finally talk to other people that weren't monsters trying to give him a facelift, but Percy loved it. He asked him all sorts of different questions about themselves, all while smiling like he was having the time of his life.
"So," he started when he noticed they had passed the Camp's bathhouse already, "where exactly are we going here?"
Josh and Lacy exchanged a glance at each other. "We're going to see the praetors." Josh told him, "We can't just have you wandering around Camp Jupiter without knowing who you are." He looked pointedly around at all the other legionnaires passing them by on the streets while staring at Percy with expressions caught between concern and distrust.
"Fair point," Percy said, only slightly disappointed that his luxurious Roman bath was going to have to wait till later. "That's cool, though. Is Reyna still in residence, then?"
Lacy stopped short and raised her eyebrows at Percy in disbelief, "Where have you been? Former Praetor Ramirez-Arellano hasn't been a resident in Camp Jupiter for four years!" she exclaimed. "No, we're going to see Praetors Zhang and Levesque."
Somehow, Percy's face was capable of looking even more joyful. "Frank and Hazel run the show now? Awesome!"
The pair looked at Percy mystified as they continued into a studious looking building Percy didn't recognize. Likely due to the fact that the last Praetor quarters had been destroyed during Caligula's attack on Camp Jupiter and New Rome. They nodded at the boy attending to some papers one his desk in what looked to be the lobby area before climbing up a pair of wooden stairs at the side of the room. They walked down a small mundane hall before pausing in front of a blue painted door on the left.
When Josh rapped his knuckles against the door, the first thing Percy heard from behind it was a crash followed by a bang. "Coming!" a girl's voice squeaked from the other side. A few moments later the door opened to show the wide-eyed expression of eighteen-year-old Hazel Levueque. From behind her, Frank Zhang could be seen flattening his hair while picking up books that seemed to have fallen off the desk beside him.
"Praetors," Lacy started uncertainly, "Sorry if we caught you at a… busy time."
Hazel waved her hand in a casual gesture, "Not at all, Lacy, we were just… reviewing some papers for the, um…"
"Fortuna Feast," Frank supplied helpfully from behind her.
"Yes," Hazel agreed, "We were reviewing some papers for finalizing meal plans with the Greeks for the Feast of Fortuna. Anyways," she was quick on changing the topic, "what can I help you two with?"
"Well," Lacy started while stepping away so Hazel had a view of Percy behind her, "We were on guard duty by the cave when–"
Hazel let out an intake of breath when she realized who she was looking at, making Lacy stop explaining to look at the gaping Praetor in confusion. Behind her, Frank got concerned by Hazel's sudden silence, so he came to see the scene at the door. One scan followed by a double take when he saw Percy led to all the books in Frank's arms dropping to the floor.
"Hey," Percy Jackson said awkwardly at seeing his friends for the first time in five years.
Lacy and Josh looked spooked by their praetor's odd behaviors. "Um," Josh started, "do you guys know each other or something?"
Hazel blinked out of her reverie but continued to ignore Josh with all her attention focused on Percy. "Who are you?" she asked him stiffly. While he looked everything like the son of Poseidon she had grown to know and love, it simply just couldn't possibly be him.
He looked affronted, "Your friend."
"Prove it."
Percy considered her request for a moment before giving her a name only her closest friends would know of, "You told me about Sammy."
The name seemed to bring Hazel to tears while beside her Frank let out a strangled sort of gasp. "It is you," he said in wonder.
Hazel reached out and cupped Percy's face with her hand. She ignored all the grimy dirt and dried blood covering him from head to toe; instead, she focused on those sea green eyes in front of her. The last time she saw those eyes, Hazel had been calling helplessly beside Nico for someone to help them and pull Percy and Annabeth out of the chasm. Those eyes had looked up at her calm and bright when Percy let go of the ledge his fingers clung to and accepted a fate worse than death. It seemed in that single moment he had doomed himself an eternity of suffering. Right in front of Hazel it had happened, but she had been powerless… frustratingly powerless.
Percy felt his own eyes mirror Hazel's when they began to blur with unshed tears. She was touching his face and he saw those familiar eyes. Oh, how he had ached for something familiar in his life. Now, after so long of pain and fighting, the familiarness of his friends had finally reached him– it was touching him now. Percy couldn't help all the bottled-up feelings that released as he started balling. He wept and took Hazel in his shaking arms, suddenly needing to feel her familiarly even more. Five years since he had hugged someone; he held her close as if fearing all of this would disappear and he would be alone again.
For her part, Hazel could only whisper his name as he clung to her like his life depended on it. Then, slowly, a feeling overtook her shock of seeing her friend again and Hazel found herself returning his hug just as fiercely. Percy was alive.
When they finally separated, Percy was immediately hit with the force of a New York subway train. "Dude," a tearful Frank said when he finally let Percy go of his bear hug, "you're alive!"
'Yeah," Percy sniffed, "somehow."
For poor Josh and Lacy's parts, the two demigods stood shell shocked to the side throughout the reunion. It wasn't until things between the three tearing seemed to deescalate slightly that Josh coughed awkwardly in his elbow in hopes to gain their attention.
"Erm," Josh started when all eyes in the hallway landed on him, "Sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but who is this guy and why does he look like he got dragged through hell."
Percy started to grin again, "You're not too far off, man." he said before holding out a hand in greeting. "Percy Jackson, nice to meet you, Josh."
Josh stared at the hand in front of him waiting to be shook. It was covered in dirt like the rest of the guy's body with scars and calluses covering every inch of it. He blinked and then looked at Percy's face. Bright green eyes, raven black hair as untamed as the sea: now that the name was spoken, Josh could admit he saw an uncanny resemblance to the descriptions other Romans have given whenever Percy Jackson's story was told. But… Percy Jackson was supposedly dead after sacrificing himself to close the Doors of Death, so this guy in front of him couldn't possibly be the great hero. Right?
Josh and Lacy exchanged troubled glances as they both considered the demigod in front of them and realized that him being the Hero of Olympus was not completely impossible to the point that it actually made sense. From the moment they met him, he was smiles and rainbows to the point that simply existing was enough to make him happy. Another reason: he looked like he walked straight through hell with his torn rags called clothes and his bloody, battered body of grim. Seeing as Tartarus was pretty much hell and that Percy Jackson was last seen there, they supposed the rest was self-explanatory. The last reason was the best, though: Frank and Hazel, who were part of the legendary Seven along with Percy Jackson, recognized him to the point that they were brought to tears.
In a daze, Josh accepted the handshake while looking at Percy with wide eyes. "I think I'm hallucinating."
"I know what you mean." Percy said seriously before turning back to his still watery friends, "So, what did I miss?"
They were quiet for a moment before Hazel spoke, "It's been five years, Percy." she informed him with a weak voice, nothing like the one she commanded Romans with. "You've been dead for five years."
Five years. Those words echoed through Percy's head. He'd been dead to his friends for five years. His mother had dealt with his kidnapping for months only to hear that her son hadn't survived the war this time. And his Wise Girl, she was probably somewhere out there either still dealing with heartbreak or moving on because Percy took too long. He hadn't known how much time had passed in the mortal world, but he had been hoping it had only been a month or two.
"Percy?" Frank asked, snapping him out of his thoughts, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah… yeah. I guess that makes me twenty-one, then, huh?" the son of Posiedon smiled at his friends weakly.
Their eyes were full of pity as Hazel gestured for Percy to enter their office, leaving Josh and Lacy to catch flies in the hall, "Come in, it sounds like it's about time we got you back in the loop."
Turns out Hazel was a great summarizer. She told Percy about how the rest of the Seven managed to defeat Gaea, including Leo's sacrifice that ended up taking him back to Calypso's island where he apparently landed in while Percy and Annabeth were in Tartarus. She told him about how the Athena Parthenos united the two camps and brought enough peace for a treaty to be made. Apparently once things calmed down more, Percy had a nice funeral that even a few gods made an appearance to, but Percy didn't want to hear about that. He wanted to know how everyone was doing in his absence.
It was easy to explain to Percy that Reyna joined the Hunters of Artemis, but difficult to tell him of Jason's death. Even though they told him there was nothing he could have done, Percy couldn't help but be mad that he was far away from his friend when he needed him and didn't even know of his passing till years later. Things soured even more when Hazel told him Annabeth lived alone in New York and was still depressed even years after Percy's supposed death. That would have to change soon, Percy decided.
There was good news to be handed, though Percy was sad he missed experiencing these moments himself. His mom and Paul had a daughter. Frank and Hazel were engaged. Nico was happily living in Camp Half-Blood with his boyfriend. Apparently, Leo and Calypso were now happily running a repair shop right in New Rome. All happy news, a signal that people had moved on from Percy's 'death' and still lived their lives happily. Still, Percy couldn't help the jealous feeling in his gut. Everyone had their five years of Percy and were moving on to their next step in life while Percy had been stuck in Tartarus fighting for his life each and every day.
Hazel shook her head to try to get her thoughts to run straight when she was done updating Percy, "I still can't believe it's really you."
"The others will want to know your back and alive," Frank added with his calm smile. Percy marveled at how even though Frank was older and more matured, his face still held the same babyish youth as it did five years before. "Leo's right in New Rome, of course, and Hazel can IM Piper about taking a trip here from her place in San Francisco."
Percy nodded in agreement, but there was hesitation clearly on his face. "I need to go to New York." he said, "I need to see my mom and Annabeth." His voice was filled with a certain longing.
Frank and Hazel shared a look before focusing on their long-lost friend again. "You're right, Percy, we'll see about getting you transportation for the East Coast as soon as possible, but right now you're obviously tired and in need of a change of clothes." Hazel continued, eyes brightening at her idea, "You can stay the night here in New Rome while you see Piper and Leo before we get you to New York tomorrow."
Percy considered Hazel's plan before nodding his head in agreement and standing up with screaming muscles from his chair. "A nice bath that doesn't involve one of those stupid rivers… I don't think I could possibly pass you on that deal."
"Frank can show you the way in case you forgot."
The two boys started to make their way out of the office but when Hazel called his name with a hint of indecisiveness, Percy looked at his surrogate sister to see her dilemma. Hazel's face was caught between duty and friendship. "Percy, how do you feel about us announcing your return?"
He understood that it was Hazel's job to inform the Romans on important events, but he couldn't bring himself to even entertain the idea of several random demigods knowing he was still alive before his own Wise Girl did. "Maybe not, Hazel," Percy started tentatively, "Word will spread eventually; let's not rush it."
She nodded in agreement and wished Percy a nice bath as she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a drachma to IM Piper with. Hazel wouldn't tell the daughter of Aphrodite why she needed to come to New Rome, only that Leo was making hotdogs.
Percy was in the bath for at least two hours before he finally got out. It was probably the best he had felt physically for years. The last time he had been able to relax this much was likely before the war happened and Hera kidnapped him. Now, he was finally able to relax and feel the water heal and cleanse his skin. It didn't help the white scars that littered his body like a disease, but at least Percy could happily say he had no more open wounds and no more dirt covering every inch of his body.
Dirt was good for one thing, Percy supposed: hiding his scars. He wondered if the ashen element had helped cover a particularly nasty scar on his face from Frank and Hazel.
Looking across the room into a mirror, Percy frowned at himself as he studied it. The jagged white line started by his temple and trailed painfully down the side of his face till it hit his jawline and faded off. When the wound had first been received, Percy had nearly passed out from blood loss; now it would forever be a painful reminder of his time in Tartarus– along with his missing pinky finger.
Unfortunately, the scar was also a shivering reminder of someone Percy often wished he would just forget: Luke Castellan, son of Hermes and the guy that formerly let Kronos host him while he tried to destroy Olympus. Sure, Luke did side with the gods in the end, but he'd done a lot of damage in the meantime. Damage that wasn't exactly something Percy could completely forgive him for.
Luke had a scar on his face, too. Granted, not in the same spot as Percy's, but it was still an unfriendly reminder. But Percy could never make the same mistakes as Luke. Percy would never betray his family.
When Percy finally got out, he was greeted by a waiting Frank outside of the room. He saw the way Frank studied his body, noting all the scars and blemishes and malnutrition it held. But instead of making Percy uncomfortable by saying something, Frank just gave Percy a change of clothes to borrow and let him have the room to himself.
Percy pulled the purple Camp Jupiter shirt over his torso, wishing it was long-sleeved, and buttoned the washed-out pair of jeans that hung loosely around his legs. He shoved Riptide into his back pocket and started to leave, though he couldn't help but think he still didn't have one thing to complete himself: his camp necklace with all of the beads he had acquired over the years. Percy had ripped it off his neck and shoved the only thing he could remember camp by into the elevator with Annabeth.
Ironically enough, while ripping off the necklace, one bead came loose and was left with him. It had been the first bead he had ever received that pictured a sea green trident. Percy purposely dropped the bead into the River Styx and let it dissolve.
"Where to?" he asked Frank cheerfully as they both left the bath house. They were walking on the artfully stone covered road that had a sign next to it directing them to New Rome.
"Leo and Calypso's place," Frank answered, "Leo's making dinner and Piper and Hazel are already there. They don't know you're supposed to be joining us– other than Hazel, of course."
"Figured a heart attack like the one you got would be a nice fate for them?"
Frank frowned at Percy's antics, "Yeah, thanks for the warning."
"Always a pleasure, Zhang."
It had taken a frustratingly long time to get past the resident god and studious rule follower, Terminus. They had easily handed over their weapons into the box next to the annoying statue god, but naturally, the god just had to recognize Percy. Apparently, he had heard all about Tartarus and started bombarding the son of Poseidon with questions on how he was alive. Bless Frank for dragging Percy away from the awkward conversation by saying they had important business to attend to. Afterall, dinner parties are very important.
Percy heard them before he saw them. He could hear the beautifully familiar voice belonging to Calypso yelling angrily at someone. As they turned the corner of the street, another familiar voice, always sounding like a joke was about to be told, was heard. "...didn't mean to, Sunshine!" Leo Valdez shouted. Two girls laughing their heads off added to the noise.
The group was all gathered under a small pergola by an enchanting little two-story brick building. The house was charming with window boxes filled with moonlace and a hand painted sign above the front door featuring the words: "Leo and Calypso's Garage: Auto Repair and Mechanical Monsters". Under the pergola, Percy saw Leo's scrawny figure holding what looked to be a plate full of burnt hotdogs. Next to him, Calypso could be seen threatening to hit him with a spatula while Hazel and Piper both laughed while sitting on a couch next to a mini campfire.
Once Percy and Frank got closer to the scene, Hazel stood up and announced, "Frank's here now!"
"Who's that with him?" Piper wondered as Frank walked under the pergola with Percy following him. All eyes were on the mysterious figure as he swallowed nervously and stepped into the firelight.
Silence immediately impeded the usual boisterous group as they took in Percy's presence. Piper was gaping like a fish out of water while Leo comically dropped his burnt plate of hotdogs, causing the ceramic plate to shatter on the ground. "Oh my gods," Calypso whispered as she lowered her spatula in shock.
"Alright, what's it with people always dropping stuff when they see me?" Percy complained in hopes to break the awkward silence.
Leo slowly looked down to the pieces of ceramic laying in broken jags at his feet before turning his gaze back to Percy as he started to return his usual elfish smile. "Sorry, man," Leo apologized, "You looked like Percy Jackson's evil twin for a second there; good thing these hot dogs are barely edible anyways."
Hazel rolled her eyes, "Leo, he is Percy."
Leo's face went slack again as he took in Hazel's very serious expression and looked at Percy again. Unless Frank and Hazel were trying to pull the greatest comeback prank of all time– and that kind of prank would be a sick joke to even Leo– then this was really Percy Jackson in front of him.
"Look," Percy started, "I know this is all probably hard to believe, but it is really me. I– I got out of that place barely even a day ago."
"Oh gods," Piper whispered as she teared up. Everything about him was the Percy Jackson she knew and loved from the Argo II. There were some scars visible that she was positive weren't there before, but she knew in her gut that this was truly Percy Jackson alive and breathing in front of her.
Acting on emotions alone, Piper sprung forwards and enveloped the son of Poseidon in a hug. It wasn't as desperate as Frank or Hazel's, but Percy could feel the joy radiating off of Piper like light from the sun. He hadn't known Piper or Leo as well as he wished he did, seeing as he fell in Tartarus prematurely, but they had all fought for their lives together and trusted the others to have their backs. If that wasn't a bond, Percy didn't know what to think anymore.
"I'm sorry about Jason." he whispered in her ear, knowing that Piper likely would have preferred the son of Jupiter to return from the dead rather than him. She sniffed a bit and sent him a grateful look that told him she didn't blame him for anything, including being alive while Jason was dead.
Leo gave him a brotherly clap on the back when Piper pulled away from Percy, "Don't you pull that kind of stunt on us again, amigo. Next time, you won't need to go through all that stupid sacrifice stuff, I'll throw you in Tartarus myself. Or," Leo's eyes got a glint like those of a mad scientist's, "I'll just watch as Annabeth does it."
Percy shivered theatrically at the implications, "Yeah, she's going to kill me when I see her again, and– oh gods, she's going to kill me!"
Piper looked at him reproachingly, "I think you'd deserve it after making all of us think you were dead for five years."
"Sorry."
Turning away from Piper and Leo, Percy focused on the one person that had yet to say anything. Calypso continued to stare at Percy, shell shocked with spatula in her hand.
"Calypso," he said with sorrow in his voice, "I'm sorry I hurt you and I can't put enough pressure on how unforgivable it was to never make sure the gods upheld their promise." Calypso opened her mouth to say something, but Percy was on a roll now, "I'm so glad Leo was good enough to come back for you and do what any honorable person should have–"
"Stop!" she interrupted him with a glare. Percy stared at her wide-eyed as her eyes went soft and she spoke to him with that same calming voice she used on her island. "Percy, I don't blame you for anything. You left my island because you had a duty for your friends and for Olympus– something hardly dishonorable. Your promise was the only reason Leo was able to find me twice and though you didn't check to see if the gods upheld their promise, I could hardly blame you considering you had been kidnapped by a goddess."
Percy looked like he wanted to argue, but Calypso shut him up when she set down her spatula and grabbed his face with her hand. He looked like a deer caught staring at headlights when she kissed on the cheek and said to him softly, "I'm glad you're alive, Percy."
Immediately after the fact, Percy turned to look at Leo, as if to communicate that he had no intention of stealing his girlfriend. The son of Hephaestus just grinned and waved his arm as if to tell Percy there was no harm done.
Everyone under the pergola seemed to grin at one another for a moment, when a powerful voice intruded. "So, the rumors are true."
Percy snapped his gaze to the origin of the voice and saw a god lounging on a wooden rocker chair across from the campfire. Not just any god, though, but– "Dad."
Poseidon stared back at Percy with the same sea green orbs Percy inherited from him. The god only had eyes for Percy as the others bowed, seeing as Poseidon is a god. Percy didn't, though, instead searching his father's unemotional gaze to see what the god wanted.
The sea god stood up from the rocking chair and made his way around the campfire until he was in front of Percy. He still wore his famous Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts with a clean-shaven black beard. While his face usually supported some sort of smile, Percy couldn't help but shift nervously– perhaps because of his ADHD– at the way the sea god remained completely expressionless.
Half of Percy expected Poseidon to inform him that he was being sent to the Olympian Council because Zeus wanted to vote on whether or not to kill him. Gods know why that would happen, but it hadn't exactly been the first time the Olympian Council decided on whether or not to keep him alive and Percy wasn't exactly Zeus's favorite nephew by any means.
"Mars saw you first," Poseidon said, "and recently Apollo heard from Terminus and told me. While he said nothing, Hades likely also sensed your soul return to the mortal world."
Percy swallowed uncomfortably and nodded, unsure of how to answer his father. He was saved, though, when Poseidon closed the space between them and folded his arms around his son.
At first, Percy stiffened, but slowly he felt warm to the god's powerful embrace, leaning his head against Poseidon's chest and returning the favor. It was only the second time he had ever been hugged by his father, but it was a feeling that left warmth bleeding through his body; it almost reminded Percy of how he felt whenever he stepped in the ocean. Stronger and more energized.
Slowly, the sea god relinquished his hold and used his thumb to wipe off a hot, streaming tear that Percy only just realized was running down his face. Any sort of interaction with his absent father often left him reeling with emotions.
"There are people back on the East Coast that miss you, Pereus. Your mother still cries every time she sees the ocean and the hole of your loss continues to be felt at the camp."
He didn't know what to say after that depressing bit of information, so instead, Percy focused on how Poseidon's hand was now sitting on his shoulder. The hand started glowing and soon Percy found his whole world surrounded in a bright whiteness of light while the softness of his father's next words echoed through his head: "It's time to go home, Percy."
When the brightness faded, Percy found that he could no longer feel the powerful aura his father's presence gave. As his eyes adjusted to the usual lightening, Percy recognized that he was sitting in a comfortable cushioned chair by a window. He couldn't see outside very well since it was pitch black, which didn't make much sense considering it had only been later in the evening at New Rome. Unless… Poseidon must have transported Percy to the East Coast where everything was five hours later.
A sigh long and tired sounded across the room and Percy froze in relation that he wasn't alone. He looked around the room and found with an aching heart that he was sitting in Chiron's office with the said centaur sitting in his wheelchair just across the room from him.
Despite the supposed time of peace, Chiron looked a bit worse for wear as he stared down at some sort of report on his desk with his elbow propped on the surface to keep his head up. Chiron had yet to realize Percy was there, and as the son of Poseidon watched those ancient eyes, he couldn't help but wonder if this was how Chiron always looks when he thinks no one is watching.
Finally, the centaur closed the report shut and looked up. His eyes scanned the room tiredly and Percy couldn't help but smiled amusedly as the centaur's eyes passed over him before doubling back in surprise.
Chiron stared at Percy for a long moment, unsure if his sleep deprivation was bringing on hallucinations of demigods he had watched grow up and mature only to suffer painful deaths. The centaur rubbed his eyes with his hands, but sure enough, when Chiron looked again, the smiling image of Percy Jackson was still sitting across the room from him in a chair.
The image moved and shifted forwards, taking upon a look of concern, "You should stop worrying so much, Chiron." the hallucination told him. "You look like you haven't slept in days."
"You're likely right, child." Chiron sighed as he opened his filing cabinet and shoved the report somewhere randomly in it without caring if it was organized. When he looked back up, Percy's image was leaning against the desk and smiling at Chiron sadly. "You don't think I'm real." the dead son of Poseidon stated softly.
"You're not real," Chiron said, "The real Percy Jackson died five years ago in Tartarus, leaving his soul to suffer eternal punishment that no mortal deserves– especially not someone as loyal as him."
The hallucination cocked his head, "Good thing I didn't die in Tartarus, then."
"Go away, please." Chiron told him.
"And leave you to think about all the depressing ways the heroes you grew to love died?" Percy Jackson asked him, moving to place a comforting hand on the centaur's shoulder. "None of those deaths were ever your fault."
The feeling of slight pressure against Chiron's shoulder felt very real. The centaur couldn't help but enjoy the hallucination while he could, knowing it would leave just like everything else in his life. He focused on the spot on his shoulder where it seemed that he could practically feel another body's warmth. Chiron looked in fascination at how real all four of Percy's fingers looked.
Wait. Four?
Chiron studied his hallucination of Percy Jackson closer. The centaur couldn't help but think that he certainly had never seen Percy in a purple Roman shirt. Chiron had never seen a scar go down across Percy's face and he could say with complete certainty that never before had Chiron ever heard of Percy losing a pinky finger. Surely, Chiron thought, the hallucination his mind would give him of Percy Jackson would be of one he remembered and not one that felt so real.
Percy crouched down on the wooden floor, leaving his left hand on his mentor's shoulder as he looked up into those deep, brown eyes. Chiron's breath quickened as he stared back. "Percy?" the centaur asked with disbelief.
"I never died in Tartarus, Chiron," Percy said, "I fought my way to the mortal world and now I'm back."
A tear leaked out of the centaur's eye, "I see you lost your pinky finger, child."
"A small price to pay for freedom."
Chiron smiled at the returned hero, finally accepting that no hallucination could make him feel as good as he felt right now. "You've grown wiser."
Percy laughed as he hugged his mentor good-naturedly, "If you say so, Chiron."
After that, the mentor and the student talked for at least an hour about anything and everything. It was obvious that Percy was in no mood to recount anything about his visit in Tartarus, however; Chiron knew not to prod. Percy did recount every detail he could recall, though, from the moment he left Tartarus. He told Chiron that he ended up in the middle of nowhere before walking all the way to San Francisco and entering the Roman camp. He explained his reunions with all his friends and even how he finally got a bath. It wasn't until they were both yawning as Percy explained how Poseidon sent him to this room that Chiron decided it was time they both went to bed.
Percy paused outside the guest bedroom that Chiron lent him for the night and looked at the centaur. "I haven't slept on a real bed since before that place," he said with a voice of longing.
His mentor looked at him, saddened that anyone had to go through as much as Percy did, "It's high time you sleep in one then, isn't it, my boy?"
"High time indeed."
When Percy stripped from the clothes he borrowed in Camp Jupiter and finally laid his sore body against the soft mattress, he couldn't help the sob of relief that filled his lips. His head rested against the plush pillow and he pulled the sheets over his body, covering and enclosing his warmth like a butterfly cocoon. It all felt too good to be true, but after five years of never even laying on a bed, Percy didn't even care if it was true anymore. Instead, he closed his eyes and let all the darkness and comfort he felt lull him to sleep.
Unfortunately, the next morning, Percy's eyes snapped open to the morning light after a night full of terrors. The horrors he saw in Tartarus all seemed to be on rewind to remind him even if he escaped that place, a part of it would always be there to haunt him. Percy decided he could deal with that, though. He had gotten sleep, whether it was necessarily the most pleasant sleep he'd ever had or not, and that was enough for him.
"Good morning," he greeted Chiron as he stepped out the door of the Big House and onto the porch. The centaur sat casually in his wheelchair while he played what looked to be poker with the familiar looking Mr. D.
Chiron turned to face Percy, taking in the bright orange camp shirt the son of Poseidon wore with bright eyes as he was reminded that everything that had happened the night before had been real. "Good morning, child."
"Ah, Peter Johnson," Dionysus said as he threw out two cards, "How lovely it is to know my world will be filled with your annoying presence once more."
Percy smiled fondly at the god, "Glad to know you feel the same, Mr. D."
The god watched for a moment as the son of Poseidon looked out at the scene of the camp. While most campers were still asleep, there were a few bright orange t-shirts moving around. Sounds of banging could be heard from the forges and over at the lake, two campers seemed to have tipped over their canoe.
"Well?" Dionysos asked the nostalgic adult, "Are you going to play or not?"
Percy shrugged and sat down on a wooden stool by the round table Chiron and Mr. D played on. "Might as well."
The god dealt him five cards and Percy looked at them, squinting his eyes as he tried to remember how to play poker. He was sure Mr. D had probably taught him the game at some point in his camp life, but as to remembering it after five years, well Percy wasn't very detail oriented.
"Are you going to check or bet?" Mr. D prodded him impatiently.
Percy looked down at his cards. He had a seven of hearts and a seven of spades… a pair is good, right? Why not, he decided, and threw three blue chips into the pile in the middle of the table. He had no idea what value the chips they were playing with were, but he liked blue things and the chips were blue. Judging by Chiron's face as he called the bet with three more blue poker chips, Percy was probably not the smartest of poker players.
Mr. D ended up raising the bet, making things look bad for Percy as they threw out some of their cards into the discard pile and grabbed their new ones. Happily, Percy found himself looking at another seven of clubs and decided to throw in some more blue chips when it was his turn. Of course, he berated his own impulsiveness when it got to Mr. D's turn and the smug god announced he was "All-In". Smartly, Percy and Chiron both folded, not wanting to take the chance of losing all their chips.
Dionysus crackled, "Mine!" he said, taking all their chips from the middle of the table and pulling them to his chest. It was only when the god flipped over his hand, a pair of twos, that Percy wanted to smack his head against the table for not seeing through god's bluff.
By round three, almost all of Percy's chips were gone and it looked like not even a stroke of beginner's luck could save him. Chiron wasn't doing too bad, but Percy could tell that neither of them were capable of outgambling the wine god.
In the end, Percy was saved by the conch horn announcing breakfast. Campers immediately began to steam out of their cabins and run towards the dining pavilion. Faces blurred with the bright orange color of the camp shirts as Percy struggled to pinpoint anyone familiar to him.
Mr. D flashed away, likely to go to the pavilion except without all the walking. His cards fluttered to the table to show another winning hand. Percy stuck his tongue out at the pile before looking at Chiron, "Are we going to follow him?"
For Percy's part, he was rather nervous about the idea of walking up to the Poseidon table and sitting down like he hadn't been gone for five years. He was positive there were people he knew still at camp, especially since it was the peak of summer. Already, Percy could imagine the stares that would get.
Thankfully, Chiron seemed to have something else in mind as he motioned for Percy to follow him. They went up the hill towards the dining pavilion with Percy's stomach swimming in anxiety the closer they got.
Percy stood to the side as Chiron sat down at the front table. From there he saw faces that made his heart ache in longing. Will Solace and Nico di Angelo sat together at Apollo table laughing about something. Across the hall, Clarisse La Rue could be seen ripping into her sausages as she arm wrestled one of her siblings. At Hermes table, he saw the Stoll brothers deviously throwing grapes at hot-headed Katie Gardner sitting at Demeter table.
The sight of all of them made Percy's heart warm. In some way, it felt like it had only been yesterday that they were planning Capture the Flag tactics and racing canoes together in the lake. All that stuff must have continued on without him, but Percy wondered if he was ever missed by his friends from camp.
"Heroes!" Chiron called, trying to gain all of the camper's attention. As they started to quiet down, Percy could already guess what Chiron was about to announce.
"Around five years ago marked the end of the Giant War," the centaur started, now gaining the eyes of at least two hundred campers, "During that war, many losses were faced in order to bring down the Earth Mother. But," he said, making many eyebrows raise at this next statement, "one loss was wrongly assumed."
"What do you mean, Chiron?" a camper Percy didn't recognize from Athena table called out in confusion that matched the dining pavilion's atmosphere.
"What I mean, Daniel," Chiron elaborated, "is that only just last night, one of our heroes returned to us."
"Though he isn't very apt at poker." Dionysus added as he sipped his Diet Coke.
Percy frowned, standing at the side of the pavilion where no one had yet to look, "Hey, I take offense to that statement."
Eyes snapped in his direction, jaws dropped; Chiron must have shown everyone a picture of Percy Jackson at some point because they all recognized him. Percy was not exaggerating when he said that every single camper was looking at him like fish out of water.
"Holy Hera," some kid said from Hermes table, "that's Percy Jackson!"
"Hey." Percy waved awkwardly as campers started whispering to their friends and gawking at him like some caged zoo animal. He saw Nico di Angelo slowly stand up from Apollo table looking ready to pass out from shock. Even Clarisse seemed to be staring at him in disbelief, not even looking mad at him for once.
"It's really you," Nico said softly, but loud enough for all the campers to hear, "I knew I felt a disturbance a day ago in the mortal world, but now I can actually feel your soul again."
The son of Poseidon looked sadly at him, guessing how hard his loss probably hit him. Just like Bianca, Percy had sacrificed himself for the greater good. "Look," Percy struggled to say how guilty he felt about making everyone worry, "I'm sorry I–"
He would have continued if not for the short son of Hades that suddenly rammed into him and was hugging Percy like there was no tomorrow. The younger boy was shaking as he murmured nonsensically into Percy's collarbone. Percy rubbed Nico's back comfortingly, just glad that whatever tension the two held before he fell in Tartarus seemed to now be gone.
After that, more campers followed, and it was all an uproar of voices. First it was people he knew: Clarisse punching him hard in the shoulder, but with a warm smile that told him he deserved it; the Stolls slapped him on the back, grinning devilishly like they knew he had been alive the whole time but didn't tell anyone; Katie Gardner's eyes were filled happy tears as she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him into a hug; even Clovis from Hypnos Cabin stayed awake long enough to give him a slobbery greeting. Then people Percy didn't know were coming up to him as well. Random campers started to hug him, shake his hand, slap his back, ruffle his hair, and Percy even had lip gloss on his face from some girls that went so far to kiss his cheek. It became clear soon that everyone just wanted to touch Percy Jackson, Hero of Olympus.
Eventually, campers started to trickle away from the breakfast pavilion and go off to their normal activities. Percy couldn't help but wonder if all the embraces he's experienced in the last twenty-four hours are to make up for five long years of no hugs (unless Percy counted the one bear hug he received from a giant hellhound that was trying to rip his throat out).
Soon, almost everyone had left the comfort of the dining pavilion, save for some his oldest friends, Clarisse, Nico, and Will. They were grinning and talking to him when Percy's stomach growled loudly, reminding him that while everyone else had breakfast, Percy hadn't.
"Sorry," Percy said sheepishly when Clarisse quirked an eyebrow at him, "I was going to have dinner in New Rome at Leo's place, but then Poseidon flashed me here and I forgot all about food."
Will knitted his eyebrows together and forcibly gave Percy one of Camp Half-Blood's magical plates like any good doctor. "When's the last time you've eaten?" he asked, concerned by the clearly malnourished body he saw as they all sat down at Poseidon table.
Percy shrugged, "I forget."
The son of Poseidon stared at the plate in front of him for a long time, not even noticing the looks his friends were exchanging. "Mortal food," he said wistfully, "I think I've had dreams about this moment."
His friends couldn't help but feel pity for Percy, but Nico was smart enough to not act on it and instead shove him in the shoulder asking, "Well? What are you going to eat?"
Percy decided on an all-blue double cheeseburger with extra fries. Clarisse just rolled her eyes at his plate after he threw a fry into the fire as a sacrifice. "A burger for breakfast, Prissy," she said, "Really?"
"The food of the gods." Percy agreed brightly as he shoved his face with fries.
Once the awkwardness was over, Percy couldn't help but feel like he had traveled back in time five years to before the Giant War when things weren't as complicated. They all talked and joked, Percy recounting his day at New Rome with them while Nico told the group an amusing story from instructing sword lessons. No one mentioned that if Percy hadn't been in Tartarus for the last five years, he would have been the one teaching younger campers sword wielding. In fact, no one talked about Tartarus at all, pretending the stab wound in all of Percy's old relationships didn't exist.
Grover and Rachel joined the group when Percy had almost finished his 'breakfast'. The two had not gathered with the rest of the camp at breakfast, but quickly began to hear rumors about Percy Jackson that their ears wouldn't dare to believe. Together, they had compared notes on things they overheard others saying before deciding to see for themselves if Percy was truly alive.
Imagine their surprise when the two friends crest the hill to see the out-of-time scene of Percy, Clarisse, Nico, and Will all eating and joking under the dining pavilion. Grover loses the capability of controlling his muscles as his hoofs freeze in place upon seeing the sea green eyes of his best friend. For her part, Rachel shrieks, though it sounded almost like a strangled scream.
Rachel's sound of surprise immediately notifies the demigod group of their presence, making Percy go as far to jump out of his seat and pull Riptide out of his pocket. Then he blinks as he realizes the lack of threat, "Grover? Rachel?"
"Perrrrcy," Grover bleats, finding himself capable of moving again. The satyr runs to his long-lost friend, hoofs clapping across the ground as he goes before enveloping him in a bear hug (or would it be a goat hug?).
"I can't believe it," Grover said when he finally released Percy from his tight grip, "When my empathy link broke, I thought for sure…"
Percy smiled comfortingly, "Well, I'm safe now, G-man." He looked over at a wide-eyed Rachel who had yet to move from her spot, "Come on, Dare," he joked, "Surely you would have foreseen this?"
Rachel shook her head in disbelief and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.
Slowly, Percy walked over to her and placed his hands on each of her shoulders, causing a shaky breath to blow through her lips. "Rachel Elizabeth Dare, remember what I told you?" he asked the rhetorical question, knowing she was too speechless to answer, "In the Labyrinth, you asked me how I could ever deal with the dangerous life of a demigod without breaking. So I told you, 'Don't feel bad, I'm usually about to die.'" he smiled down at the red-haired girl, "Now tell me that statement is wrong, seeing as I've almost died a million times in the last five years only to hold out a bit longer so I could come back to annoy you all again."
"Unbelievable," the Oracle muttered after a minute of staring at him. She proceeded to throw her arms around Percy and snuggle her head into his chest. "You're completely unbelievable."
"So, Prissy," Clarisse said once they all settled back on to the benches of Poseidon table with two new members, "I'm guessing you'll want to be seeing Little Miss Architecture in the city, right?"
Percy's back straightened and he immediately felt five times more attentive than he was a second ago. The thought of Annabeth had been nagging him the whole morning to the point where he had been two seconds away from throwing away Mr. D's poker cards and running all the way to New York. Then he remembered he didn't even know where she lived. A tug of war had entered his mind: You know where your mother lives, though. But what if she moved? What if she didn't? And what if she hates you for leaving her? So will Annabeth. Now that's even worse.
"Of course," he told Clarisse, "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I have a car now and my cabin is out of coke, so I could–"
"Yes!" Percy shot up from the bench like a rocket ready to launch, making Grover nearly choke on the napkin he was eating. "I need to see my mom and Annabeth now!"
Clarisse shifted nervously in her seat, not expecting him to take her up on her offer so soon. "Cool down, Prissy, I don't even know where your mom lives. I can take you to Annabeth's address, though."
Percy nodded in affirmation, grabbing the rest of the burger on his plate and getting up to dump it into the fire as a sacrifice for his father. He tucked in his orange shirt a bit and turned around to grin at a defeated Clarisse. "So," he started, "Where's the car?"
For living in Phoenix, Percy had to admit the Clarisse had a nice car. It was some sort of newer Jeep model that must've been released during Percy's stay in Tartarus since he had never seen the style before. And it was bright red.
She didn't say much to him as they rode to the city. Either she wasn't sure how to start a conversation with someone who had spent their last five years in hell, or she was too busy yelling and cursing at other drivers around her. Percy considered the latter since he was too busy hanging on for dear life to talk either.
"You should probably pass this guy, too," Percy advised her sarcastically, "They look like they might be going a mile or two under the speed limit."
"Oh, shut up." she told him, yanking the wheel hard as they drifted into a sharp turn.
Driving through the streets of New York City could likely be compared to trying to fly a kite in the middle of a tornado and not getting it stuck up in a tree. It's nearly impossible to do without getting a headache or almost engaging in a head force collision with another car.
Clarisse had her hand sitting on top of the car horn like a buzzer in a game show; she was ready to honk at anyone who dared to get in her way. She swerved and crossed through the lanes of traffic like no one's business to the point that Percy felt like he was seasick by the time she finally pulled into a parallel parking spot. Technically, he was a son of Poseidon and didn't get seasick, but if he did, he was sure this was how he would feel.
"I think you caused three fender benders," Percy said, nauseously getting out of the Jeep while holding his head, "And you even had those two cars T-bone at that one traffic light."
She stayed in the car as he got to the sidewalk, "Four, actually, but who's counting?"
"This is it, then?" Percy looked up at the apartment building Clarisse had parked by. It was nothing special considering she was an architect who made a living designing structures to be debonair and crafty. A boring gray brick covered the building, only pausing to wrap around the mundane box windows of each apartment. He had always thought of Annabeth living in a skyscraper of her own creation, basking on the highest floor with pride of what she built.
Clarisse shifted her gears, preparing to head back onto the crazy streets. "Yep, door 409." she said, "Now listen, Prissy, we'd better be seeing you back at camp soon."
He stood on the sidewalk and watched her speed away in the bright red Jeep. She was already pounding the horn on her wheel, signaling for other cars to move out of the way or she'd run them over.
The further she got away from him, the more his stomach seemed to knot up. Was he… nervous? About seeing Annabeth? Was the sinking pit in his stomach really a feeling of dread? Annabeth is the love of his life, the person he could trust the most. She's the person he has always felt safest with and the person he would do anything for. She used to be the sun in his sky, his person. And he loved her.
Yet Percy never felt more nervous in his life.
He could've taken the elevator in the rather depressing lobby. Her room was on the fourth floor, and he would've been there in seconds. After all this time of just wanting to see her face again, of running full speed away from both camps just so he could get to her as fast as he could, Percy resigned himself to taking the steps.
They seemed to mock him with each step he took, reminding him of what he was walking towards.
Step.
You left her alone.
Step.
You promised her you'd always be together.
Step.
You told her you would never leave her side again.
Step.
She'll hate you for leaving her.
Step.
She probably wishes you were dead.
Percy hated each and every one of the steps in this apartment building. They reminded him of the ones he used when he escaped Tartarus. They both made his feet ache as they sent him in circles towards a new stage of his life. The only difference from one stairwell to another was the resounding fact that while the ones in Tartarus seemed to go on for an eternity, these ended far too fast.
Soon he was walking down the hall, staring at the ugly checkered carpet on the floor while only glancing up when he needed to look at the numbers on the door.
406… He rubbed his clammy hands onto his shirt as he tried to get rid of the feeling of cold sweat that encased his body like a tomb.
407… He clicked his fingernails together, desperate to hear anything but the pounding of his feet as he got closer.
408… He closed his eyes as he walked. Enough steps had passed for him to know when exactly he would get to the door he was looking for. A feeling in his gut told him to stop. His feet knew the step number was right as well. He turned. He opened his eyes.
409.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there frozen, just staring at the three-digit number. The '9' on the panel was a bit crooked, making Percy wonder what had happened to make it that way. Maybe there had been a gang fight in the hallway, and someone banged their head off the '9' with enough force to move it. Maybe the Stolls had stopped by Annabeth's place before and had tried to prank her by making the number a six until she caught them in the act. Maybe it had always been that way, with the '9' doomed to a crooked life the moment a random construction worker drilled the screw in it to keep it in place. Percy could sympathize with the '9' if that were the case. He, too, had been doomed to a crooked life– figuratively, though.
A few people passed him by in the hall, on their way to their apartments. Some gave him weird looks, wondering what he was doing staring at the apartment door but not going in. Others ignored him completely, too focused on their own lives to see the stranger standing in the middle of the hall. He didn't see them at all, though, only looking straight ahead at the door.
Finally, Percy remembered what he needed to do, and that procrastinating wasn't going to stop the inevitable. If he really wanted to avoid Annabeth so much, he would've stayed in Tartarus. He lifted his knuckles, feeling the brush of the oak wood against his skin. It wasn't sanded very well when the building was built, and the wood scratched harshly, trying to splinter his already damaged hand. He pulled his hand back, before cracking his knuckles across the door twice on a fluid motion set in his muscle memory. The sound of the knocks was hollow as the echo bounced off the walls of the hallway.
For a while, he just stood there, waiting for the moment the door would pull open. He started to count in his head, hearing the final seconds till he saw her face again tick through his mind. When he got to a minute, though, he wondered if his knock had been audible enough for her to hear. It had sounded loud to him, but maybe he hadn't knocked as hard as he thought he had.
Percy raised his hand to knock again– then he heard footsteps. They were muffled by the door, but they got louder as the person in room 409 got closer to him. Then he heard the lock switch as the person just behind the door unlocked it. Then he heard the twisting of the doorknob and the creaking of the hinges as the person pulled open the door and peeked their head out to see who was there.
He took in everything he saw in a second. It must've been the adrenaline of the moment making him see all the details of her familiar face. Golden blonde hair with curls Percy has always been positive she stole from a princess framed her face. Sharp features set in her face sculpted like a statue of a Greek goddess. Curious stormy gray eyes studied him as she let the door swing. She was still in her pajamas, wearing fuzzy checkered gray pants and a peach-colored top. Maybe Percy's knock had woken her up.
Annabeth's breath had fallen short as she took him in. When she had woken up that morning and pulled a book straight off her nightstand to start reading, her mind completely lost track of time. It wasn't until she heard knocking at her apartment door that she finally put the book down– procrastinating slightly by finishing the page. She hadn't been sure who to expect at her door mid-morning, but the man in front of her certainly wasn't it.
He reminded her so much of Percy that it hurt her chest to look at him. Or maybe her chest hurt because she had forgotten to breathe. Normally she would scold herself for ever coming off as soft to others, but she was too caught up in staring at him to care.
How dare he have the same hair Percy used to have? It was the same color of dark raven hair that always seemed to look tousled by the wind. The same messy hair she had loved to muse with, to wrap around her fingers. How dare this man have the same face as the one her Percy once wore? Tanned and chiseled. Hazel once told her she had first mistaken Percy as looking like some sort of god, and when Annabeth had looked to her boyfriend again, she had seen him in a new light at realizing Hazel was right. And how dare he even think to own the same pair of eyes she had dreamed of seeing on her Seaweed Brain again? She wanted to cry out as she looked into the man's eyes. The same color of sea green that had haunted her dreams every night as she saw the last sight of its gleam as the elevator doors peeked shut. They even held the same intensity as Percy's, reminding her of how they used to make her feel like she was floating on top of the ocean in the eye of a hurricane every time she would look at him.
Okay, she thought to herself, get yourself together, Chase, this guy is looking at you weird. That was true; for the last minute she had spent trying to take control of her own reeling thoughts, he had just stared at her. He was probably wondering what the heck her deal was and why she was looking at him so strangely. She focused, instead, on the jagged scar starting at his right temple and following down his face and across his jaw. A nasty scar, but the only relief for her to look at on the near exact replica of Percy.
"Annabeth," the man breathed out in a strangled sort of way before she could speak. His voice seemed to send more bullets at her chest as the familiarity of it struck her again. It was raspy to hear, like he had drunk a gravel and glass mixed protein shake for breakfast. Still the harmonious tone beneath it matched the sound of Percy's beautiful voice to a 't'.
Maybe it's that moment that it truly hit her. Not in seeing his face, but in hearing his voice. The same voice that she had found herself arguing with for ages when she was younger. The same voice that made her laugh during even the hardest of times. The same voice that had told her "I love you" for one last time as the elevator doors closed, leaving the words to echo through her head as she wished she could've said it back in time. The person of that voice was really in front of her, there is no denying it.
"Percy," she whispered, still not quite believing that he was in front of her. That it all wasn't just some elaborate dream in her head to keep her fantasies going till he disappeared from her life again.
He wore a vibrant orange camp shirt, but she saw no necklace or beads. She seemed to grow faint as her mind logically thought out the details. Yes, of course he's not wearing it, he ripped it off his neck and shoved it into my hands in the elevator. She had stashed the beads in a box of pictures of her and Percy hiding in her sock drawer. All except one: the green trident. She tries to think of it as symbolic, though, since just how she gained the bead and the son of Poseidon as a friend that summer, she lost them both in another.
"I'm sorry," Percy blurted out. He wasn't sure what to say to the love of his life at seeing her again, but apologizing to her for leaving seemed to be the first thing on his mind. "I'm so sorry I left you."
She broke out of her reverie at his words, shifting slightly on her feet and obtaining a less dazed expression. He noticed her hair was shorter than he remembered, barely long enough to make it past her shoulders. Other things about her were different as well: her eyes were dark with bruised bags beneath them; her stance was different, shoulders hung low without her usual confidence; and her face looked dulled, like it had simply lost whatever glow he used to see in it.
So far, every single one of his friends he met had moved on with life. They had accepted his death and found happiness anyways. He had expected it. He had been happy for them that they didn't let his loss hold them back, but he had also felt jealous. Jealous of how they got to continue living their lives. Jealous by the mere fact that they hadn't had to deal with five years in the pit of eternal damnation. But Annabeth had been affected. He could see it on her face that she hadn't ever moved on or found happiness. She may not have been stuck in hell with him, but she had been living an empty life without him. And it was all his fault.
Annabeth took a step forward, crossing over the doorway and into the hall with him. She wasn't even sure when her feet decided to move, but they automatically went towards him. He stilled at her movements as she continued to inch her way towards him, finding herself in need of a closer proximity. She lifted her hand almost involuntarily and touched his face. She just felt the need to truly confirm it was him, to feel the familiarity of his jawline. His cheekbones. Every detail.
He closed his eyes as her hand caressed his face, feeling as if they had never really been apart. All those days in Tartarus felt easier to handle with her presence now. She touched his scar softly. Traced his lips. Grazed his eyelashes so delicately in a way she had never done before. A strange feeling of fuzziness washed over him, and he didn't notice when Annabeth's hand withdrew from his face. He did notice, though, when the fist collided with his gut.
Doubled over, gasping in pain, Percy looked up to see Annabeth rubbing her knuckles with a satisfied look to her face as she watched him. "I deserved that." he agreed with her gruffly.
She nodded and sat down on the hallway floor beside him. "If you ever make me think you're dead again," she said with a dangerous look in her eyes, "I will personally deliver you to Hades himself to finish the job."
Right… Mount Saint Helens… Percy hadn't even thought about that. "Well, you know what they say," he joked weakly, "Third times the charm."
Annabeth gave him a weak chuckle and he turned to see her crying. "It was so hard, Percy. Everyone just… expected me to move on with life, but I just couldn't. Every single piece of logic I looked at pointed at you being dead, but," she buried her head into her knee, "I just couldn't."
"I'm sorry," he whispered again, feeling tears of his own begin to roll down his face.
She lifted her head and stared at him for a moment before shaking her head, "You think I'm mad because you made the choice to save me for me. You think I'm mad because I left you." she smiled softly, "I was in the beginning. I was so angry and bitter that you left me. That you, the person I trusted most in the world, betrayed me. But then I think it was your mom that helped me."
Every word she had spoken was like a knife twisting around his heart as she spoke of the feelings he knew she would feel, but Percy felt a small flame of hope in his chest at the mention of his mother. "What do you mean?" he asked her.
"She asked me one day what I would've done if the situation had been reversed, if I had gotten the chance to save you if I sacrificed myself," she whipped a small tear from her cheek before reaching out to grab his hand, "I told her I would do it without hesitation."
Percy looked down at her face as she looked up at his. They were both leaning against the wall in the hallway with 409's door wide open while tears streamed down their cheeks. They held the other's hand tightly and Percy felt the fabric of her shirt brush against his shoulder. They were now only inches away.
They moved simultaneously, working together to close the distance between. Both seemed to already be aware of the other's movements as Annabeth brought her chin up and tilted her head while Percy used his free hand to cup behind her neck.
When their lips met, it was the first time either of them had kissed in five years. All those years had been hell for both of them, whether literally or figuratively, but now they were together. Percy was finally home, and in that moment, nothing more seemed to matter.
Author's Note: Hope everyone was happy with the ending. Thank you for reading all of that, I know it was kind of long, but hopefully in a good way. Anyways, feel free to review and happy reading!