"Perseus! Oh, Perseus, where are you?"
The coarse sand rubs against Percy's face, and the overbearing sun beats down on his back. His head aches, and his body feels as if he's been put into a washing machine during the spin cycle. The skin on his tan arms seems to be peeling, and Percy's own labored breaths scare him.
What the hell?
Percy begins to stand up, but the weakness in his body is ever-present from the sun zapping away his own energy.
A woman's voice gets closer, motherly and scared, and her shadow covers Percy's body to shade him from the sun.
"Gods, Perseus. You look absolutely terrible!" The voice says, and Percy looks up at the woman above him.
Perseus? Who is this lady?
"...What?" Percy manages to croak out, but his body, why is it so much… scrawnier… is dragged up by the lady.
Her face screams nothing but relief at finding him, and she pulls him in close for a hug. "My son, we've been looking for you. Dictys informed me when you did not show up to help him at the docks, and has been looking for you all day!"
Percy stares at the lady. Her eyes are silky hazel that matches her wavy brown hair. Stress lines remain under her eyes, and across her forehead, but it does not paint her as being older.
She somewhat reminds Percy of his own, real, mother.
"Danaë, you've found him?" A deep voice calls out, distant and rough. Danaë, that's her name, turns around and calls to the man who stands at the entrance of the beach. "Yes, Dictys, he is here!"
Only then does Percy look at the two adults closely. They're both wearing tunics, with sandals on their feet.
emDanaë, where have I heard that?/em
His mind wanders to Annabeth laughing as she tried to teach him old myths, stuff he really should know, but never got around to learning. He'd been insulting each one, with little things, like their shoes, or nose shape. Annabeth snorted at each one, until he started vouching for Athena with Odysseus' story.
"Perseus Jackson, I swear to the gods. I'm done with you." She laughed, smacking him playfully as she stood to put the book away. "What do you even know about Perseus?"
Percy remembers shrugging and smiling as she groans and begins to talk about the hero, only stopping because it was time for them to eat dinner.
I'm going to kill myself. I'm fucking Perseus.
"I… I don't think I'm your son?" Percy tells Danaë, but it comes out more like a question. "I don't know where I am."
Danaë's face scrunched in concern as she shared glances with Dictys. "Son, are you feeling alright? That is nothing to jest about." Dictys nods, and looks at Percy intently. "The sun has certainly taken a toll on you, you should rest some."
"No, I don't need to rest. I don't think I belong here…" Percy defies, stepping out of Danaë's hold and stumbling backward. "I am a demigod, son of Poseidon. Not… not who you think I am." He says, hazily looking at the two adults.
Danaë's lips tighten as she forces them closed, and grabs Percy's hand and pulls him away from the water, Dictys trailing behind. "You need rest, my son. Your senses will return to you then."
If he would've had the strength, Percy would have pulled away. But the determination and emfear/emin her body language made him let her drag him away.
Her (their?) house was absolutely gorgeous. Something Annabeth would've foamed at the mouth seeing. Danaë's grip on his wrist took part of the beauty away though. Dictys opened the gate for them and Danaë led Percy through the courtyard and into a bedroom on the east side of the house.
"Your skin is quite burned…" Danaë said, reaching into a cabinet to grab some ointment. "You must've made Lord Apollo angry for this damage to have been done."
Yeah, sure. The only thing I've done to him is beg for his help in archery.
Danaë applied the ointment to his skin and allowed Percy to sleep, leaving the room.
He stood and walked towards the shutters, pushing them out of the way. The ocean screamed, waves bashing against the shore. The sun was retreating, dark, heavy clouds covering them up. Thunder rumbled in the most familiar way.
Percy groaned and rested his shoulders on the window. He was now presenting a chiton, his regular clothes seemingly not transferring with him as he was punted back in time.
They want you to witness the land of the gods.
Good thing he didn't know shit about Perseus' story. If he was truly living out Perseus, the hero himself, then anything he'd do could be accounted for in myths.
Percy laid on the bed that waited for him, and blew out the candle on the nightstand next to him. On the small table laid small trinkets such as bracelets and seashells.
The ocean sang him a lullaby with the harshness of its waves, and the wind outside yelled at him. Something isn't right, they say. You are not supposed to be Poseidon's son.
Percy's eyes slipped closed, and he allowed himself some well-needed sleep.
Poseidon raged as his boy died, his body going slack. Hades looked away, a frown adorning his face.
"Apollon, you could've saved him!" He yelled, his nephew's eyes widening, but stance remaining.
"I couldn't have, Uncle. I cannot tamper with Fate."
Poseidon glared at the god and turned his head away, eyes setting on the boy in his lap.
The great hero of Olympus should not be lying here dead in his father's arms. The father that never shown care.
Athena's girl sobbed as she leaned down in front of the boy, wiping at her eyes profusely. She somewhat reached to grab his hand, but stopped before the god.
He took pity on her. He had never punished demigods for stepping into his domains, not like his brother had. If this girl was Percy's closest friend, she should be allowed to wish him a goodbye, regardless of her parentage.
Poseidon nodded his mighty head, and Annabeth wailed, reaching for Percy's cold hand and holding it close to her chest. He raised his hand and placed it on her head.
"I am sorry that he could not have been saved, child."
Annabeth closed her eyes and choked on her tears, struggling to allow Percy to slip away from her.
What he guessed was the former body of the protector Satyr lied in the crook of her arms in a pot. A seedling was planted in it, and Annabeth squeezed them both.
Right, Percy had a link with that satyr. If one of them died, so did the other.
Tragic.