So this was cooking in the pot for a while, gonna put it out now.
Perseus Jackson, commonly called Percy, woke up in an extremely bad mood. Panting and gasping, he sat up from where he was sleeping, arms flailing and eyes wild, looking for threats. The heat of Mt. St Helens lingered with him, as flesh on his back screamed in pain, the burn scar cooling down to a manageable throbbing. Wincing in pain, Percy laid back down, trying not to agitate his back more than he already had. Scanning his surroundings, his face paled when he realized where he was. Taking some time to calm himself, his silent scream going unnoticed, he closed his eyes and collected his thoughts and laid back down on the bed. Burying his head in his hands, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
Guess who's back, back again, his ADHD mind supplied, Percy gritting his teeth as soon as he thought that.
"He's awake!" Grover cried out from somewhere, causing Percy to take in a long suffering sigh as he sat up, having to reign in his emotions and act somewhat calmly. It wasn't like he knew almost everything about them, no, nor was it like he had just gotten killed by a titan after killing three. Hyperion really was a bastard, and despite being less powerful than the version Percy fought in the Battle of Manhattan, he was still strong enough to overpower the superpowered demigod.
"Hey, G-man," Percy said, sitting up and trying to act like it was all just a dream. "I just had the weirdest dream," he stated, rubbing his head as if to act like it was true. "You had goat legs, we killed some guy with the head of a bull, and mom disappeared into a golden cloud of dust. Damn, dreams really are the weirdest," he stated, looking at his shaking hands. Getting out of the bed, only to find himself nauseous, Percy almost instantaneously fell to the ground, only avoiding collision when Grover decided to run in and help him.
Cursing himself mentally for being so weak, he estimated that it was the drawback on his body after using his powers too much, something that carried over to his next life too often.
"This isn't the dorm room," Grover said, Percy looking at him in something akin to dry amusement.
"No shit," Percy responded, finally able to stand on his own. "The dorm room isn't nearly as nice as this. Also, school ended three days ago," he said, Grover's eyes widening and looking down sheepishly.
"Oh," he quietly stated, and now Percy felt bad for making his first(read: only) friend sad. "Well, anyway, Mr. D is going to want to meet you."
"Lead the way, goat boy," Percy responded, Grover bleating in indignation as Percy laughed it off. It felt nice to be back, if only for the fact he knew he would be back again soon.
The walk through camp was short and sweet, Grover pointing out many of the attractions he learned about through his many, many years here. Grover handed him a box with the horn of the Minotaur, as proof that he had beat it or something. It caused many jealous stares from campers, but Percy didn't care as it didn't even matter to him. It was the first of many that he would collect, and it was one of the least useful at that.
Arriving at the Big House, he saw Dionysus, god of wine, and Chiron, who was disguised as his teacher Mr. Brunner.
"Hey, Mr. Brunner," Percy waved, much too nonchalantly for someone who had lost his mother and saw his history teacher at a new camp. "Why are you here?"
"Hello, my boy," Chiron responded, gesturing to the table. "Come sit with us, let us talk over pinochle."
That sure was an entertaining talk, Percy mused as he walked through camp with Annabeth. Tailing the girl as she talked about the camp for the Olympus-knows time, he knew it was inevitable when he stopped at the Hermes cabin, number 11.
"Oh and by the way," she added, causing Percy to turn to face her, reminding him of why he kept losing. It kept all of his willpower to stop himself from clenching his fist and beating her to death right there, if only to avoid the pain of losing all over again. It was always love. Always. It was why he could never win, why he could never kill the fucking traitor that hurt him over and over again. Because she cared for him.
"If you say I drool in my sleep I will give you a mastectomy," Percy said, causing Annabeth's mouth to gape. "Just introduce me to your boyfriend and leave." Huffing in indignance, she did so, and left.
"Welcome to cabin 11," Luke Castellan stated, waving his arms. "Where everyone is welcome."
"Cool. Nobody's gonna steal my stuff, right?" Percy asked, causing a bunch of laughter to go up around him. "Eh, nothing new. Anyone want the horn? Come take it," he said, throwing it upwards so that it would get lodged on the roof of the cabin. Several dozen boys scrambled to get it, climbing and throwing things at it so that it would dislodge. Percy smiled, as nobody knew he was using some of his ice powers to keep the horn frozen(pun completely intended) in place. "Fucking monkeys," he muttered, Luke laughing with him.
"Great job, man," Luke said, clapping him on the back. The contact made Percy flinch, something Luke didn't notice, and his hand instinctively went towards his pocket so that he could grab Riptide, only to remember that it didn't matter. No amount of dead demigods would stop the rise of the titans, there was always one. Breathing out some air, Percy set his stuff down in the area he was assigned to, and walked outside.
The green pastures and constant movement of many campers provided a nostalgic feeling that calmed Percy down, dragging his mind away from his itching back. The clear skies and calm atmosphere provided for a perfect place to relax, but Percy knew that he couldn't do that, because he had tasks to finish. Taking a deep breath, Percy readied a plan in his mind, promising himself to follow through with it.
There was a decent amount of freedom in the camp, something he enjoyed. This enabled him to spend quite a bit of time on his own, the perfect thing for someone like him. The archery range was his first target, Apollo having removed the curse he put on the children of Poseidon after Orion as the result of a favor. He had become decent in archery over the many years, having over a century to practice it after learning the tool. He was nowhere near any of the hunters or gods, but could rival some of the Apollo kids who had a natural advantage in that regard. Picking up a bow and testing the weight, he shot a few test shots in order to gauge the displacement. Satisfied with his work and thinking he had figured it out, Percy tried on the stationary target, firing thrice and hitting the bullseye twice. The third landed in the central ring, which while it wasn't spot on, it would kill nearly anything if aimed at a vital area. Moving to the moving targets, he practiced his aim stationary at first, and then walking slightly slowly, before full on running while shooting. He got better once he was adjusted to the bow, but it still felt awkward in his hands, like it wasn't his.
He was in the middle of trying to adjust the wind to complicate it more when the conch horn for lunch blew, startling him and causing him to release the arrow and for it to fly into a tree, making a Dryad very angry. After apologizing profusely, he rushed to the dining pavilion where he fell into line with the rest of cabin 11, ending up at the back because it was in order of seniority.
After sacrificing a portion of his food to Poseidon with the message 'claim me already', he sat down and wondered what to drink. After deciding on a healthy but light water and some asparagus, given that he wasn't really hungry, he let his mind wander.
First priority: get the master bolt, Percy reminded himself as he took a sip of his water. Despite how much Zeus was an asshole, he was still a capable warrior, and the weapon of mass destruction helped quite a bit in the fight against Typhon and the attack on the Andromeda earlier. Second, find the hunters.
This part made Percy grimace, as he remembered the last time he had shown up at their camp uninvited. Around loop 1730, he had tried to seek out their help for help with Atlas, back when he still tried to stick to previous events. It wasn't the most sustainable solution, but it did help.
Third, the Di Angelo siblings. Nico and Bianca Di Angelo were children of Hades, god of the dead, and were left in the Lotus Hotel and Casino for seventy years. It would do him well to find them early, so that he could not only stop the death of Bianca but also help them live a normal life. He owed it to Nico to try, given the amount of times he had failed to save her before.
Finally, free Calypso. You might not think it for how they managed without her the first time, but the titaness was easily the best healer on the battlefield, especially since Apollo was gone. Her medical knowledge would be invaluable if his plans were to come to fruition, which it probably wouldn't but why not hope. Looking around, for one last time, he departed on his journey to change the past. But first he needed to get used to his current body.
The camp woods were a place where campers were discouraged from going, likely due to the high amount of monsters that lurked in the place. It was very rare to see someone going into it, especially so late at night. Because of this, Hestia knew something was wrong.
The new boy at camp was an enigma. He was young, and clearly inexperienced in monster fighting given his lackluster physique, but he still gave off a stronger aura of power than anyone else. Within that aura was something more sinister, however, one feeling that sent a message of pain and prolonged suffering. The goddess stood up from the hearth she tended, the central part of the camp, and walked out, still in the guise of a child, to follow the mysterious man.
Percy Jackson, she remembered his name was. Percy Jackson, son of an unknown god, and most powerful person at the camp, sans Dionysus and herself. Howls and sounds of pain filled the air but Hestia was not frightened, she could defend herself should the time come. Even still, she cautiously shrugged her oversized cloak towards herself more, as if to protect her from the darkness. A light in her hand led the way, the flame guiding her towards the young child that she wished to find out about. Oh how she was wrong.
The sound of rushing water assaulted Hestia's ears, causing her to put out the flame and watch in awe as a river flowed towards the sounds of battle, the water moving in mesmerizing shapes and patterns. The water was gone as soon as it arrived, telling tales of the control the user had over the element. Quickly following, Hestia saw a golden glow from a blade slice through golden dust, water waving around and seemingly stabbing at random spots, but each one ended up causing a spray of golden showers to erupt. Entranced by the sight, the goddess stood still and stared in shock and awe as the swordsman made cuts through air in random but calculated ways, each strike poised to kill, each wave taking a life.
It was only until the last of the monsters were dead that the boy acknowledged her presence, by creating an icy lance and stabbing it straight between her shoulder and neck, causing the goddess to jump in fright and stare at the destination. A spare hellhound had jumped from the shadows, trying to take out something before it died, only to be caught mid jump by a spike in the mouth as it disintegrated into dust. The boy let out a resigned sigh, the golden blade disappearing and the ice melting into water as it all gathered back near the boy, coiling around his arm and compacting as he let it swirl around him, crashing and creating shapes like a miniature ocean he held in the palm of his hand.
"Hello, Hestia," he said, opening his eyes for the first time, as Hestia got to see his eyes. The piercing yet warm malachite and emerald colors swirled around like the water in his hands, as they seemed so happy yet so sad at the same time. The familiarity with which he spoke, almost as if he had gone through the same interaction several times over, speaking to the goddess in the form of a young girl for what had to be the thousandth time. Slumping against the nearby tree, the enigma slid down into a sitting position, and coughed to the side, some blood spitting out. It seemed that his current form was not a proper conduit yet, something that Percy needed to change, and fast. "It's about time we had this talk again," he stated, confusing her immensely, as she definitely did not talk to him yet. Indulging the request, however, she sat down next to him looking intently at his face, trying to discern something from the endless swirl of emotion that seemed to pass through him at any given moment.
"Before we do that, do you mind changing into an adult? It's really hard to talk about this with the millenia old child," he remarked, fiddling with a pen in his hand. Hestia pouted, clearly displaying the message that she would not change, given that she was much more comfortable like this. Percy laughed and laid his head on the tree trunk. "Well, it was worth a shot. Never works, but it's worth a shot."
"Are you calling me old?" Hestia asked, speaking for the first time since she got here, sending a playful glare at the boy, causing him to shrug.
"No, I'm saying you look young for your age," he said, causing her to hit him in the ribs lightly, causing him to bark out a laugh again. "Plus, I'm older than you at this point," he muttered, but she still heard it, causing her to still.
"What do you mean?" she asked, very confused. A flash of hurt appeared in his eyes, before the green swirls looked at her, sadness shown. Percy pulled his arm back and leaned forward, and before she could react, he took off his shirt. She was about to scold him for indecency when something caught her eyes. Well, actually, several things.
A short and small gasp escaped Hestia as she gazed upon the mess that was the body of Percy Jackson. The first thing her eyes were drawn to was the horrific burn scar across his entire back, the scar looking much like a slash extended through heat. The reddish flesh had not faded, still glaring bright as if the damage had been done. Slowly tearing her eyes away from what should have been a killing blow, she forced herself to focus elsewhere. It just made things worse.
Hundreds of puncture holes dotted his back, each one left by a silver arrow from loop 734, caused by his visit to the hunters, back when he expected them to be civil. In his last moments, he saw panic on several faces, but no regret on any of them, giving him a warning not to come back. These were coupled with a large circle straight in the center of his back, right where his heart should be. Inside it, the flesh caved in, essentially creating a crater that was left by the remnant of the spear of Iapetus.
Percy turned around, causing Hestia to see that his front was no better. Instead of puncture holes, this one was full of slash marks and stab wounds, each one bigger than the last, telling of the amount of times he had died to a blade. They formed swirling patterns, creating an intricate patchwork labyrinth that decorated his body far more than should have been possible, even for someone with an extreme healing factor. Hestia saw the spot where she playfully hit him, the side of the ribcage, with what should have been a gaping hole but was just another crater formed by another spear. Along his right arm, a long lightning bolt shaped scar lay, telling of the time where he was killed by Zeus and the master bolt when trying to help Olympus. Nothing was visible on his face, but his neck was once again a source of major concern, for incisions lay nearly everywhere on it, clearly showing the repeated decapitation process he had gone through.
Hestia held her hands to her mouth to stop herself from shuddering and gasping, in order to properly respect the demigod who had clearly gone through much more than she, or any of the gods had, in their immortal lifetime. Percy smiled sadly back at her, knowing what she was trying to do, and appreciating the gesture but also acknowledging the futility of it.
"What-" Hestia tried to start, desperately wanting to figure out what happened to him. "How-"
"Hestia, I've died," he said, putting his shirt back on as she calmed down. "I've been killed two thousand and three times. I've counted each and every one of them, each and every way I've died. No matter what I do, it never works." Percy looked upwards towards the sky, tears threatening to spill forth as they did every time he had this conversation. There was no way around it, he had to talk to someone. He was just glad that it was the most understanding person he had ever met. Hestia steeled herself to ask her next question as Percy's eyes met her once more, causing her to hesitate just one second from seeing the shattered look he held.
"Why?" she asked. "Why die so often? It's clear that you have the power to fight, so who keeps killing you?"
"The titans are rising," he said solemnly, forming a blade with the water circling around his hand. "And I fight them. I fight and fight and fight and fight but no matter how strong I get, I can never beat them all. My best shot was last time and I only killed three before I died. I'm pathetic," he said, unaware of the shock he sent her into. A demigod able to kill not one, but three titans on his own? The power would be unheard of if he continued, something she knew her littlest brother would exploit no matter the cost. "And I died. I died before I could cut Kronos into pieces, I died before I could stop his resurrection. I killed his mortal host, he found another. I reached out for help, I was turned back. I tried normally, letting events pass as they did the first time around, and I still lost. I tried sitting out and was killed for not fighting. There's no escape," he remarked, forcing out a chuckle. "But there never is for a demigod, is there?" he rhetorically asked, Hestia still trying to contemplate that their most dangerous enemies were back on their feet. "And no matter how many times I have this conversation, the outcome remains the same. Nothing ever changes. They always win."
Hestia could no longer take the truth, showing much more emotion towards Percy's situation than the person it affected, desensitized to his own life being lost. He no longer cared, and that was the worst part. How could you help someone who didn't care about themselves? So, she did the only thing she could think of at the moment: she hugged him.
The embrace went around his chest, Hestia burying her face in his shoulder as she tried to reach around him. It was quite hard to do it in the body of a child, after all. Within her arms, she channeled her powers as goddess of the hearth and the home, hoping, pleading that she could help the boy feel loved, to help him realize that his life mattered. A lone tear fell from Percy's eye, the water droplet tracing its way down his cheek and collecting at his chin, where it dropped onto Hestia's golden brown hair. The boy wrapped his right arm around the goddess, providing more comfort than he sought as he started to rub her back soothingly.
"Don't worry, Hestia. I've died before and I'll do it again if I need to," he said, misinterpreting her worry over him as worry over the fact that war was coming. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me-" he tried to say, before he was cut off by the goddess screaming at him.
"Shut up!" she yelled, causing him to pause and look down at her. "Why don't you understand?" she asked, pounding her fists against his chest, not hurting him in the slightest but causing him to worry.
"Hestia, whatever I did I'm sorry, but do you mind telling me what happened?" Percy asked, confused. "How can I make it right?"
"By not dying!" she yelled before slumping over. "How do you not understand this? How do you not understand that your life is worth something, that you are not just a tool? How do you not know that there are people that will care for you?"
"Isn't that why I was born?" Percy remarked. "That's all I am. A weapon, a way to kill enemies that they can't. A way to avoid the rules and penance," he stated, standing up and pulling away. Hestia sniffled once, then stood up as well, clutching at his shirt, begging for a chance to prove to him that his life, his happiness, to prove to him that he mattered. But the demigod just smiled sadly back at her, flashes of pain flying past his eyes too fast to identify.
"I had people who cared for me," Percy said, holding Hestia at an arm's length. "They died. They died because I could not protect them, and then they died again. I will never again let that happen. I don't care how long it takes, how much I have to suffer. They will all be safe, even if I am not," he stated, before vanishing, leaving Hestia to stand there with silence crushing around her.
Percy let out a shaky sigh as he reappeared by the big house, away from Hestia. It had taken all of his barriers not to cry, and even then, he had let a tear fall. He cursed himself for letting that happen, because now there would be problems revolving around someone knowing the truth. Leaning against the wall of the big house, careful not to wake Chiron or Dionysus, he looked up to the window where the mummy rested, and traveled up there using his personal technique.
Vapor traveling was a method of transportation unique to water deities. Essentially, he broke his body into water, thought about where he wanted to go, and moved all of his water there, reforming. It had taken some trial and error, as well as a few deaths, in order to perfect, but the results spoke for themselves. A perfect mastery of the technique, able to move thousands of miles nearly instantaneously, without very much effort on his part.
The attic of the big house was a dusty place, filled with remains of monsters and quest rewards gathered by campers. There was once a time when nearly everything here was obtained by him, but this was not that time. This time, the only thing he needed, wanted, or cared about was the Oracle.
"Hey Delphi," he stated, slumping against the window. A green smoke poured out of a mummy nearby, pooling and rising in front of him, taking the form of a young girl. "How's it going?"
"How nice it is to see you again, Perseus," Delphi said, her voice coming out much too high pitched. "I understand that last time was a failure?"
"Number 2002," he responded, dejected. "At least I know I'm getting better," he said, a blade of ice forming instantly in the palm of his hand, before he shortened it to a dagger. "With powers and weapons."
"So is your body," Delphi giggled, holding a hand to her mouth in a poor attempt to stifle them. "After all, you've improved so much," she said, taking a step towards him, swaying her hips as she did.
"Now is not the time for your stupid flirting," Percy stated, looking out the window. "It never is. We don't have time for it."
"Quite the contrary, in fact," Delphi stated, sitting across from Percy, her legs crossed. "Time is the one resource you have infinite of. I have told you that this isn't natural, that someone is doing this, interfering with the natural flow of time, have I not?"
"Only every time I visit this attic for the first time in my various lives," Percy sarcastically remarked, intentionally rude. "What does this have to do with-"
"I do not know who, or what, is interfering with this," Delphi cut him off by stating, looking at her hands. "I should be able to, but I cannot. I trust you understand what this means?"
"Essentially some power beyond the gods or titans is fucking with your clairvoyance," Percy said, summarizing what Delphi had said last time when he came to her with it. The information didn't seem that important, but there was a much deeper meaning that he had trouble grasping. "But who would want to-" Percy said, before frowning.
"What seems to be the matter?" Delphi asked, leaning forward. "Because none of this information is new to you, right? Or have I not been helpful?"
"No, I was just wondering about what I said. Titans fucking with your clairvoyance," Percy stated, before forming an hourglass out of water in his hand. "Would it be within the powers of the Titan of Time to send someone back in time?"
"The implications of that would be troubling to say the least," Delphi said, a hand on her chin in thought. "But unfortunately, I cannot help you there. I can only seek to offer guidance in these troubling times. Come to me whenever you wish, Perseus Jackson, and I will seek to aid you," she said, before dissolving into the green smoke and going back into the mummy with a parting cry of 'good luck'.
"Whenever I wish, huh," Percy said, standing up. "I just wish it would end." Percy left the attic and vapor traveled to Poseidon's cabin, sleeping in the beds despite how he shouldn't have done so considering that he was not yet claimed. The comforting green and blue hues surrounded the son of Poseidon, washing his vision and cleansing his mind of troubles, allowing for his first good sleep in several days.
"I wish it would end," he mused as he drifted off to sleep, before remembering key information.
I don't have to wait to get most of that done, he realized, causing him to jump up. If he remembered correctly, the hunters were in Wyoming right now, in a familiar place called Old Faithful in Yellowstone national park. But, before he went there, he quickly remembered another fact.
I've gotten the farthest and closest to victory whenever I let events play out like they did the first time, he realized. So I can just do the same thing again, but with knowledge of the future, meaning a lot more victories and many more lives saved.
The bed had never felt more comfortable, and Percy drifted off into a rare dreamless sleep.
Waking up in the morning used to be the hardest part of Percy's days, but this time it was the second hardest, ahead of the fact that he had made a goddess cry but behind his doubts as to whether this was the correct course of action.
That day, during capture the flag, he would be claimed in the creek. After, he would be attacked by a hellhound, given a quest, and leave for California. It was chaotic, yes, but it was predictable. Everything would go as expected, and expectation was all he had going for him.
In the morning, nobody questioned where he was given the overwhelming amount of Hermes kids, and because of that, nobody did a headcount. So, he was free to go as he pleased.
The camp lake was a source of peace for him, as it always had been. Never before had he seen bluer waters, protected by the divine gift of Poseidon, and it was always clean thanks to the Naiads in the lake. Speaking of the Naiads, they gave him shy waves and flirtatious winks as he walked towards them. Slipping into the water and ignoring the presence of those around him, Percy dove down to the bottom of the lake, where the seafloor began.
There were two alcoves here, each one about big enough to fit three people in it. They were full of water, though Percy had no problem remedying it if need be. For now, he simply sat at the bottom and moved his surroundings. Careful not to hurt any life nearby, he made the water take sharp turns, round edges, and deep dives in methodical and rhythmic ways, mimicking a battle style he had seen before. Changing some nearby water into ice, Percy practiced his swordsmanship underwater, using the liquid as a buffer to help him increase his speed on land. He had done this every day for the past 143 years, making his already superb control of his element second only to the god and titan of water. He did not notice the crowd he had gathered, too focused on the variety of exercises he went through to prepare himself, strengthening his body and mind in preparation for the coming war.
Finally stopping, Percy looked up to the surface of the lake, ready to exit there and then but a crowd of fish and spirits made him stop. Several of the humanoids were looking at him through half lidded eyes, blushes wide on their cheeks, while many of the fish seemed to bow whenever he looked at them, as well as a fish could bow.
He must be the son of our lord, one fish told to another, as he looked away. How else could he stay under so long?
"By lord, do you mean Poseidon?" Percy asked, his voice coming out fine even underwater, the liquid acting like air for his lungs.
Yes, we do, my lord, the same fish said, swimming down to look at him face to face.
"Well, then the answer to your question is yes," Percy said. "I am a son of Poseidon. And before anyone says it, you will address me as Percy, not 'my lord', 'my liege', or anything like that."
Yes, my- the fish started, before cutting themselves off as Percy smiled. As you wish, Percy.
One of the Naiads swam down to him, hands fidgeting behind her back and bearing an embarrassed look. She held out a shell to him, making him gasp. It was a perfect shell, with not a single crack or deformation, and it glinted beautifully in the sunlight reflected and enhanced by the water. Slightly pushing it towards him, he understood what she was trying to communicate. She was giving it as an offering to the newly discovered prince of the seas.
"Oh, I couldn't," Percy said as he held his hands out, taking the Naiad's smaller ones in his and folding them back around the shell, as she looked up to him with eyes full of wonder and adoration. He brushed her hair back, making her blush harder as she looked down sightly, wondering why he took the time to be so intimate with her. "Don't offer me anything. You should keep your stuff, I already have more than enough with me," he told her as he patted her head, making a cute squeak emanate from the Naiad. The rest took this as their cue to jump down and surround the friendly son of Poseidon, clamoring to get his attention and hold conversation with him.
Amidst all the chaos around him, everyone trying to talk to him, Percy smiled as he conversed, for he appreciated the peaceful moments like this far more than any others.
Eh, this was kind of eh. Anyway, this is probably a one shot but if it gets enough support I will add more chapters to it as time goes on.