Ch10
TW: Much like in The Lightning Thief, Dionysus briefly discusses the option of spontaneous combustion for Percy while discussing the quest. However, while he is just as brief in this fic, he is more serious about the possibility of it than in canon. PLEASE skip this chapter if you need to.
Aunt Sally would never have let the apartment get this dirty. It had always been a little run down, sure, and it was never spotless- Percy tended to put things down and then forget he'd put them there- but Dean had never once seen the apartment look dirty. Ugliano had only been living on his own for a week and there were already empty beer bottles strewn everywhere across the floor and dirty dishes packed sky high in the sink. It told him just how much work Aunt Sally had to do on a day to day basis once she got home from work. She would be fuming if she could see the state of her home. Hell, he was fuming, and he only visited on occasion.
Dean grit his teeth. He'd broken in during one of Ugliano's infrequent trips out- and it felt so wrong that he'd had to pick this lock- to allow himself time to scope out the apartment without Ugliano's interference. The police had tentatively cleared the man barring new evidence, but something about him had always rubbed Dean the wrong way despite never having met him before.
He'd also wanted to see whether Aunt Sally had left voluntarily or under duress, but the apartment was in such a state of disrepair that any evidence that might've been present was long gone. The apartment had been his last shot. There was no point going out to the wreck site because he hadn't arrived in time to see the car. There would be nothing left but empty road, assuming the cops were competent.
Like that's likely.
He'd walked into the local precinct yesterday and only just managed to bluff his way to getting ahold of the case file. Dean was good, he knew that, but at twenty-two it was just a little unrealistic to claim he was a high ranking officer of any kind. As it was, his bluff had involved a phone call to his 'supervisor' Bobby. Regardless, all the case file had told him was that the police were useless. They didn't know jack shit about what had happened that night. Their biggest lead pinned everything on Percy, but they had no evidence to back up the theory and the moment they talked to anyone who actually knew Percy they'd see that.
Ugliano didn't count.
Dean had spent the better part of today casing the apartment- and that was so, so wrong, this was supposed to be a safe place. Aunt Sally had said her door was always open- while waiting for Ugliano to leave. He hadn't been able to find anything linking Ugliano to their…disappearance. He hadn't been able to find anything at all. The apartment was a tip.
Footsteps stopped outside the apartment door. The lock started turning.
Finally. Time for some answers.
Dean waited in the kitchen, just out of sight, watching as Ugliano walked in with a crate of beer under each arm and kicked the door shut behind him. He waited until Ugliano had put down both crates before revealing himself.
"Who the fuck-"
"Sit down and shut up." Dean pulled out his gun but made no move to aim it at Ugliano. Hopefully the intimidation factor would be enough for what he wanted, but if not then he was prepared to get physical.
This was his family on the line.
He was right. One look at the gun had Ugliano gritting his teeth but complying. Dean positioned himself between the couch and the door, blocking Ugliano's means of escape. Right. Time to establish some facts.
"Do you know who I am?"
Ugliano shook his head, continuing to clench his jaw. He chewed on nothing, looking like he was debating whether to speak up or not.
"How about the name Dean Winchester, does that ring a bell?" Revealing his name was a risky move, but he had a plan. The reveal paid off as Ugliano's control seemed to snap.
"I know you! You're related to the Jackson punk!"
Dean snorted. "Jackson punk? Really, that's the best you could do? Percy can insult better than that and he's twelve." Ugliano's face twisted and he opened his mouth but Dean cut him off. "Forget it. I'm here about the accident."
"Good riddance!" Ugliano spat, "Jackson's been a fucking annoyance since the moment his mother introduced him to me."
Dean tensed. So this is why Percy never talked about Ugliano. If-when you find him, it might be time for a chat. Aunt Sally, too. He cocked the gun. "You watch your fucking mouth when you talk about my- when you talk about Percy." Ugliano fell silent again, watching the gun warily.
"Now, I've already read the police report so I know what you told the cops. I want to know if you left anything out."
"There is no way you read-"
"You came home to an empty apartment," Dean spoke over the top of him, verbally laying out the report. "Your car was also gone so you assumed Sally had gone on a, and I quote, 'beer run.' You didn't report her missing until the next afternoon when the building's superintendent came around asking about her. They'd had a meeting arranged for that morning and she'd missed it." Dean took one look at Ugliano's grey face and snorted, putting the safety back on. "Yeah, I have connections with important people so I know what you told them. I want to know what you left out."
There. If he's got any brain cells what-so-ever that should deter him from calling the cops.
Besides, you'll be long gone before he finds the balls to do anything.
"Well?"
"N-nothing! I didn't leave out-"
"C'mon Ugliano. I don't have time for this." He took a step forward, looming over Ugliano. Sam might've started shooting up like a weed, but Dean was no shortass either.
"She knew where she was going!"
"Of course she did, dumbass! She was driving!"
"No, I mean, the brat-" Dean glared at him, "-Percy! Percy had run away from school. Sally left me a note saying she'd gone to pick him up-"
"I know that. He was staying with one of my dad's friends." But Percy hadn't called Aunt Sally before he left. Bobby had called her. "The cops found evidence of Percy's presence in the car anyway. They know she'd picked him up."
"You're not listening! Neither of them have cells and the kid had been gone for a while. Then she just up and leaves one afternoon? Asks her coworker to cover her shift? She knew where he was and where he was going. She didn't think she'd be gone long- she left me a note saying she'd be back late that night!"
"And you didn't call the cops?" Ugliano just scowled and looked away. "Fine. Whatever. That's it then? That's all you know?"
Ugliano glared at him, and Dean took another threatening step forward.
"That's it! That's it I swear!"
Dean let his posture relax and Ugliano blinked at the sudden change.
"Awesome. Let's not make this a habit, yeah?" He tucked his gun into his waistband. "Don't bother calling the cops about this. Or do, an asshole like you could do with a good beatdown. Contacts in high places, remember?" Ugliano swallowed roughly. Dean pasted a cheery smile on his face and gave a half wave as he opened the door.
"Always a pleasure to meet Aunt Sally's family." He let the door fall shut and began the trek down to the car.
Well that was pretty much a bust. Dean looked up at the darkening sky. So, Aunt Sally 'knew where she was going,' huh. Maybe it's worth going to the crash site after all.
Percy wanted to say he'd fallen into a routine, but only two days had passed since his claiming so that seemed somewhat premature. Grover had appeared out of nowhere the day before looking frantic and tackled Percy in some sort of hug ambush. Apparently he'd been at a hearing related to his bringing Percy to camp and hadn't been able to get out of it to check on Percy. Once he'd reassured himself that no, Percy hadn't bled out in the creek and yes, he was alright and no, he didn't want to talk about his apparent parentage, he'd become irritatingly vague about his own issues. He refused to talk about what exactly had been discussed, insisting that Percy had enough on his plate. Honestly, at this point Percy would've been grateful for the distraction from his own thoughts and problems.
One day had passed since The Dream.
Not that he was counting.
He wanted to say that he knew better than to trust ancient supernatural beings of unknown power- because he did, come on Percy- but Kronos had made a lot of sense.
Percy knew the name Kronos. The king of the titans was a hard name to forget when you were learning the basics of Greek mythology, so Percy knew one of his epithets was The Crooked One. His mum would've been giving him such a disappointed look if she knew he was even considering what Kronos had said, but in order for that to happen she'd have to be here and not…
And really, if you think about it, without Poseidon she never would've been in that situation in the first place.
He ignored the voice that told him she was perfectly capable of making her own decisions and would resent the idea that he thought otherwise. He also ignored the voice that told him it was his fault she'd even been out there that night because she'd have resented that thought too. Regardless, she'd have been disappointed in him. Her and Sam and Dean. Kronos may have seemed like he was being upfront, but he was The Crooked One for a reason and almost certainly hiding something.
But what? He'd been upfront about what he thought of you. He told you what was going on with the gods and what they thought of demigods. What could he be missing?
He'd all but said that being a demigod meant becoming a pawn for the gods, and looking at the way the camp reacted to his claiming Percy had to say that was looking pretty accurate. He still hadn't seen Annabeth since that night at capture the flag. The rest of her siblings had scorned him almost immediately, but she seemed to be taking the route of avoidance. As though if she didn't see him, she didn't have to acknowledge the apparent feud.
He wanted his sort-of friend back. It wasn't often he found someone who wasn't put off by the…oddities in his behaviour. The way he was almost constantly alert, or his language, or his complicated relationship with the word 'home.' Grover was the exception, not the rule, but Percy thought he'd been on track to make another friend.
Before everything had gone to utter shit he'd felt like he was finally settling somewhere. At school everyone looked at him like there was something not quite right about him, but at camp everyone just…understood. Annabeth especially. She'd answered his questions without making him feel stupid. Taken his coarse language in stride. Bantered with him. It was absurd because he'd only known her for a week but…he missed her.
He was supposed to have a lesson on Ancient Greek that morning. As far as he was aware she hadn't backed out on tutoring him, and he was hoping to clear the air between them. At the very least he wanted to know if they were friends or not.
She wasn't there when he arrived in a rush two minutes late to what had become their usual place. There was, however, a book wrapped in a plastic bag sitting on the ground. He clenched his jaw hard enough to hurt. He picked up the bag and unwrapped it from the book. A piece of paper fluttered out, and Percy snatched it before it could blow away. He recognised Annabeth's chicken scratch from their previous study sessions.
Percy,
Read through this. We'll discuss it when you're done.
-A
Short. To the point. No emotion what-so-ever. He ground his teeth and exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. At least it held promise for a meeting in the future. It wasn't a 'we're never going to talk again,' just a 'not right now.' He ran his hand through his hair and tugged lightly. Right?
It's okay. It's not the end of the world. You don't know anything for sure yet. You don't even know her yet.
He looked at the book more closely. It was a well worn copy of The Iliad. Annabeth's copy of The Iliad. She'd brought it to a few of their lessons before even if they'd never actually gotten to studying it yet. She'd left a ripped piece of paper between two well worn pages as a sort of bookmark, almost as if she'd grabbed the first bookmark-shaped object she saw to mark her place rather than hunting down an actual bookmark. It had more of her chicken scratch on it but the writing was shaky, even for her typically rushed words.
I'd understand if you want to request a new tutor.
-A
The bookmark opened to an annotated page - something he'd noticed she did with nearly every book she owned. There was a passage in the middle of the page that had been highlighted.
"Men are wretched things, and the gods who have no cares themselves, have woven sorrow into the very pattern of our lives."
The book shook between his hands.
"What have the gods done that's so bad?"
"Do you mean historically or recently?"
Even Annabeth had to acknowledge it. The proof was right there in his hands. A highlighted passage discussing the way the gods interfered in the lives of everyone- fucking weaving sorrow into the lives of everyone- and yet offered nothing to help. They didn't care about the fallout at all. They were only interested in themselves, in their own lives and how they could use mortals to get the best of everything.
Annabeth couldn't meet with him because apparently their parentage dictated friendships too. He wanted to say he'd fallen into some convoluted version of Romeo and Juliet, but he was pretty sure they'd been lovers- no thanks, he was twelve- and he vaguely remembered them dying at the end of the play.
Although, with the fucked up life that comes with being the child of a god, that might not be entirely inaccurate. It's not like there's any adult Demigods around.
He slammed the book shut and immediately winced.
Break her book and I'm pretty sure she'll break your face, weird sort-of friendship or not.
He let out a slow breath and started back for his cabin. If Annabeth wanted to be his friend, she'd have to go directly against her mother and all of her siblings. Even if he thought the feud was stupid, he couldn't make that decision for her. He couldn't do anything. He wouldn't. Even if it ripped everything inside him to pieces.
Only Annabeth could decide what being his friend was worth.
Clarisse caught up to him on his way back to his cabin.
"Oi! Prissy! Chiron wants to see you in the Big House."
He rolled his eyes at what had become his new nickname before the second half of her message sank in. He froze. Aside from general check in's after his claiming, Chiron had kept his distance from Percy. He'd been treated as just another camper, which had endeared Chiron to him somewhat. Aside from his various injuries, Percy hadn't been in the Big House. He'd certainly never been summoned. He'd never seen anyone summoned either.
"Give it a few days. You'll be summoned to fulfil a 'request.'"
Surely not. He was twelve. As far as they knew he'd been training for just over a week. If they sent him outside of the border there was a very real chance he'd be dead within a few days. Even if the gods didn't care, Chiron wouldn't…right?
"Do you know why?" Percy kept his voice flat, trying not to let any of his concern creep in. If Kronos was right about this…
"Do I look like Chiron? Go see for yourself." Clarisse snorted before turning to walk off. She paused. "If that's Chase's like I suspect it is, I'd stop to squirrel it away somewhere safe. The last person to damage one of her books wound up in the infirmary."
Percy sighed and resumed course for his cabin.
Better not keep Chiron waiting, who knows if the resident god is involved or not. At least if Kronos was right about this, it would give you a chance to call Bobby without anyone overhearing.
Mr. D and Chiron were waiting for him when he reached the Big House. Percy had grown used to the way Chiron looked almost permanently stern- taking care of a camp full of hyperactive and mildly traumatised Demigods was no easy feat- but Percy had never seen him look this grave. Even Mr. D looked…annoyed. More so than his usual I-Can't-Believe-I-Have-To-Look-After-These-Twits face. Chiron ushered him inside to a lounge and sat him down, Mr. D just following silently. That was wrong. Something's wrong.
"What's this about? Why am I here?" Percy couldn't help his apprehension. Their behaviour was off and you didn't just get summoned to the Big House. Chiron's gaze turned piercing, but it was Mr. D who spoke first.
"Your parentage coming to light so publicly has been causing issues, child. It's come to a head and now you have a choice ahead of you." His face turned dead serious, but his eyes were soft when he said, "They are asking the impossible of you." A spark of purple fire burned to life in his eyes, "Spontaneous combustion is an option, child-"
"Dionysus!" Chiron cried out, but the god just spoke over him.
"It may seem extreme, but it would be painless. Remember that when Chiron has explained your situation." Then between one blink and the next, the god was gone.
"What did he mean?" Percy couldn't get enough air. Spontaneous combustion? Chiron picked up on his panic.
"Take a deep breath Percy, and take no notice of Mr. D. I'm afraid his flair for the dramatic is inherited." Flair for the dramatic!? He told me-
"But what did he mean?"
Chiron looked pained. "You've been offered a quest."
Whatever Percy had been expecting, it wasn't that.
"I've been…I'm sorry, I've been offered a quest?"
Chiron let out a deep sigh. "Zeus' lightning bolt has been stolen. It's the symbol of his power and as such, it is unimaginably powerful. Gods physically can't steal each other's symbols of power, but Demigods can. They operate in a sort of middle ground, and with your parentage coming out Zeus has become absolutely certain that Poseidon is behind it and is looking to dethrone him."
"Zeus thinks I stole his bolt? Me? The twelve year old who didn't even know about any of this until like a week ago!?" Chiron's face somehow became even more pained.
"Yes. Poseidon is asking you to track down the bolt and return it to Zeus in order to prove it wasn't you and prevent their burgeoning war."
Percy choked on air. The bolt had been stolen without Zeus noticing, and he had clearly been unable to track it down since then. And Poseidon wanted Percy to find and return it. He was distantly aware of bunching his shirt in his hands, but in his panic he couldn't get his fingers to release the fabric.
"Percy?" He jerked back to attention and found Chiron's worried eyes on him.
"He wants me to what?" Percy was trying his best not to lose it completely. This wouldn't be like a hunt with the boys. With them, he was the backup. He tagged along to learn. Poseidon was asking him to-
"I have an idea of who did take the bolt," Chiron began in a reassuring voice, "and you will be given a prophecy to guide you."
"Chiron, I'm twelve! You can't expect me to be capable of this! I didn't steal the bolt in the first place! Why isn't Poseidon proving that? It shouldn't be hard- the weather's been weird since Yancy! This is why, right!?"
"You wouldn't be alone!" Chiron tried to placate him. "Quests are typically done in threes!"
"But-"
"Percy!" Chiron broke in, looking tired. "You don't exactly have a lot of options here. If you do not prove your innocence, it is likely Zeus will cast his judgement before the truth can come to light."
Percy fell silent.
"If he'd cared about your wellbeing, he would've kept your existence a secret. Instead, he's publicly claimed you. It seems to me like he wants you for something."
He was right. Kronos was right.
Chiron sighed again. "It's not fair that so much has been put on shoulders so young, but there is nothing you or I can do about it. Mr. D has already mentioned your other option. I, for one, do not consider that an option at all, and I would hope that you do not either. The quest is not hopeless, Percy."
Percy swallowed roughly, caught somewhere between terror and rage. He was just…tired. So tired. Too much had happened in too short a time.
"Go up to the attic." Chiron's voice was soft, weary. "Receive your prophecy, then sleep on it. You have until the solstice to retrieve the bolt. Let me know what you decide to do in the morning." Chiron looked at him with tired eyes. "It is not right that you are sent out so young, but you will not be alone and your skills are already so much better than someone who has only been training a week."
Percy got up in a daze and started for the door that led to the attic stairs.
"The state of my skills is irrelevant, Chiron. You'd be sending me on this suicide mission whether you thought I'd be making it back or not. Heaven forbid someone points out a logical thought process to a god." He almost didn't hear Chiron's whispered response.
"One day, I hope someone will find the courage to tell them that."
Annabeth appeared halfway up the stairs to the attic, Yankees cap in hand. She held a finger to her lips. Even when he was neck deep in terror, rage, and exhaustion, she was a sight for sore eyes.
"You really get a lot of use out of that hat, don't you?" Percy pitched his voice low to avoid being overheard. Annbeth just fiddled with the cap and didn't meet his eyes. Percy let out a long breath. "You're going to side with your siblings then. Can I expect the same brand of vitriol or are you just going to maintain this game of hide and seek?" She winced.
"I'm not going to side with my siblings. A part of wisdom is being able to acknowledge when you're wrong, and in this they are. The grudge between Poseidon and Athena holds no relevance to us."
"But?"
"But I'm not sure I can openly go against my whole cabin. Children of Athena tend to be quite prideful and-"
"And you don't want to incur their wrath. I get it." He couldn't bring himself to be angry about this. Not when he'd just had that bombshell dropped on him. Not when he could understand where she was coming from. God he was tired.
"You do?"
"Yeah. But I can't do this half in half out thing. It's just-" But Annabeth was already nodding along.
"I didn't expect you to, and I wouldn't ask you to do that. I just…we were almost friends there. It wouldn't have been fair to string you along and I wanted to make sure you understood."
Percy let out another breath. "Thanks. I think." He moved to walk past her up the stairs. She grabbed his elbow as he moved past her. He raised an eyebrow in question.
"Just…" She hesitated. "If you're going to see the Oracle, be careful, Percy. Brace yourself." Then she put her cap back on her head and disappeared. Percy stared down the empty stairway for a moment before finishing the climb up to the attic door.
It swung open easily. His first thought was that the attic was dusty. Not the typical dusting that happened after a few days but more of a 'no one has set foot in here for years' covering. Sunlight filtered in from the window giving the room a faded feel, as though nothing was quite as solid as it seemed. His second thought was that it was way too cluttered to allow for decent manoeuvrability. He clenched his jaw as he recalled Annabeth's warning.
Brace yourself. So helpful.
He knew the Oracle as soon as he set his eyes on it. Her. Whatever. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when Chiron had said 'Oracle,' but he'd been on enough hunts with the Winchesters to recognise what a decomposed human body looked like immediately.
Fuck no. Absolutely not.
There was no way in hell he was dealing with a mummy, or whatever spirit came with it. If Chiron was right about it being an Oracle then there was likely hoodoo involved too, and that was enough. He'd burned enough remains to know just how well a spirit could linger, and he resolved to come back and figure out a way to burn her as soon as possible.
The door had fallen shut behind him when he'd come in and he reached behind to twist the handle, keeping his eyes on the mummy. It didn't budge. He spun around and shoved his shoulder against the door itself in an attempt to force it open, but both the handle and the door were stuck fast. He tried not to panic.
The window.
He moved as quickly and as quietly across the room as possible, ignoring the array of objects that covered every surface available. He would not disturb this spirit goddamnit. He would not.
He pushed the curtains aside and tried not to breathe in the cloud of dust that erupted from them. There was no latch. The window didn't open. Something creaked behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly before turning to face the mummy.
It was looking at him with unearthly green eyes.
Shit. Fuck. He didn't have any iron or salt on him. Green smoke began pooling in its mouth. There was nothing in the attic that he could use to defend himself. There was nothing he could do.
"Approach the Oracle, spirit of Delphi and speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, and face your destiny."
The mummy didn't move. The green mist had reached the floor and was beginning to pool at its feet. He could feel the presence of the Oracle, but it didn't feel cold or angry like the other spirits he'd encountered. It just…was. If anything it felt almost sad.
He kept his eyes on the mummy. He knew there was no other way out of the attic. If the spirit was holding the door shut then he wouldn't be able to open it without copious amounts of salt, which he didn't have. He could break the window and jump, but that was a long way down with no soft landing in sight. He would definitely break a leg at the very least.
Plus, Chiron sent you up here and he just told you he thought you'd make it out of all of this alive.
"Okay. Facing my destiny it is. Whatever that means." He took a hesitant step towards the mummy. The green smoke was slowly drifting across the floor, but aside from that it didn't so much as flinch. Percy cleared his throat. "So, um. What is my…destiny?"
The green light in its eyes flared brighter.
"You shall go west and find the god who has turned.
You shall find what was stolen and see it returned.
You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.
And you shall fail to save what matters most in the end."
Just as suddenly as it had woken, the spirit seemed to settle. The green glow in its eyes died and the mist dispersed, until Percy was standing alone in a cluttered attic once more. He didn't move for several long moments.
He silently crept across the attic, eyes never leaving the mummy. This time, the door opened freely.
Chiron had tried to talk to him about what the Oracle had told him but Percy had high-tailed it out of the Big House as fast as possible. He'd spent the rest of the afternoon between the shower block and in his cabin, furiously trying to scrub the feeling of the spirit off his skin, and focusing on not hurling.
"...you shall fail to save what matters most in the end."
He couldn't get the image of glowing green eyes out of his mind. The voice of the Oracle had been indescribable, like many voices layered on top of one another, and it felt like it had raked its way through his brain.
It's okay. Everything is okay. You don't believe in fate anyway.
He swallowed roughly and squeezed his eyes shut against the moonlight. When he finally drifted off to sleep, Kronos visited him again.
The cavern was exactly as he remembered it. The pit in the middle of the floor was deep and dark and eternal, but Kronos felt…closer, somehow. Stronger. Percy didn't speak. He didn't bother to back away either. There was no way out of the cavern.
"You were right," Percy rasped, eventually breaking the silence. Kronos didn't speak. "My father has given me a quest. Chiron sent me up to see the Oracle."
"What did it say?"
"Does it matter? There's no way I make it back alive, and if I don't go, Chiron said I'm pretty much guaranteed death anyway." Kronos remained silent. "What. Not going to gloat about being right?"
"I could. Would it make you feel better? I was under the impression that you were enjoying your little pity party, child."
"I-"
"I told you what to expect. The gods do not care. I know this, you know this, so the next question is what are you going to do about it?"
Percy opened his mouth but no sound came out.
"I don't have time for your pity party. I told you, I am going to crush the gods underfoot, and you have the opportunity to be a part of that. Your immediate options are to take the quest, or die. What you do on the quest, though, that is entirely up to you."
Percy's mind raced.
"The king has…misplaced an important item of his."..."It's the symbol of his power and as such, it is unimaginably powerful."..."...I am going to crush the gods underfoot."
"You stole the bolt."
Kronos chuckled, a dark and rasping noise. "I arranged to have it stolen, yes. It was intercepted on the way to me, and you now have the opportunity to get it to me before it is recovered by the gods."
"Why would I give it to you?"
"Why would you give it to the gods? What have they ever done for you? The fact that I was even able to have it stolen tells you they are careless and lazy. The King is blaming you, a child for the offence and your own father is sending you on an impossible quest rather than solving this issue himself. So tell me child, why would you return it to the gods after everything?"
"You are asking me to commit treason against the Council! I may not hold much love for the gods but if they caught me-"
"Then don't get caught. Might I remind you of the destruction your father and uncle are causing with their pathetic squabble?"
Percy swallowed. His mouth was so dry. He swallowed again. Finally he found the strength to ask the question that had been haunting him since Kronos' first visit.
"How do I know you'll be any better than the gods? Mythology doesn't paint you in a particularly benevolent light."
Kronos' cold laugh was enough to jolt him out of sleep.