Sorry guys. I've been dealing with a death in the family and uni applications are kicking my ass. I've gone back and revamped some of the writing in previous chapters but nothing actually changed so don't feel obligated to reread it.

Ch7

"So to sum everything up," Percy began, "Demigods are hunted by monsters. They come here to train so that their chances of survival are higher. Some Demigods give off a stronger 'scent' and therefore live here year-round-"

"Like Clarisse."

"Right, like Clarisse. And you think I'm one of them. A Demigod."

"We know you are, Jackson." Annabeth sighed.

"Because of the food you gave me while I was recovering."

"It's-"

"Godly food. Right. If I was mortal I would have spontaneously combusted."

"Look," Annabeth folded her arms with a huff. "There's nothing I can say that will convince you. I can give you the facts but this is something you have to accept on your own. All you have to know for now is that the monsters can't get past the border unless summoned so you'll be safe here. You'll have to watch out for the other campers, sure, but something tells me you're used to that already."

"Who would summon- you know what, nevermind. If I wanted to, could I walk out of here right now?" Percy eyed the…Nereids sitting on the bottom of the lake. Water spirits, in his limited experience, were rather fond of drowning those who weren't wary.

Should've just stayed at Bobby's. I could've dealt with John Winchester if it meant that Mum was-. If she-.

Besides, when was the last time John actually picked up the phone anyway. The chances of him showing up at Bobby's were slim to remote. At least if I'd stayed then I wouldn't be-.

"It would be suicide, but theoretically yes." Annabeth interrupted his spiral. "But you'd need permission from Chiron or Mr. D, and they don't usually give out permission until the end of the summer unless it's for a quest."

"A quest?"

"Yeah. It doesn't happen often. Luke's was the most recent and that was years ago." The carefully blank look on her face convinced Percy not to ask how it went.

Lets not touch that mess with a ten foot pole, shall we?

"And how does the solstice factor into all of this?"

Annabeth tensed at his question. "Do you know anything?"

"Only what I picked up from your interrogation and one overheard conversation between Grover and Chiron while I was at Yancy."

"Well?" She demanded.

"Something about a deadline and something needing to be resolved?" Without me, Percy added silently. "Do you know what's happening?"

"All I know is that something is majorly wrong on Olympus, and I think it needs to be put right by the summer solstice."

"Or what?"

"Probably nothing good. If I could just get a quest…" She trailed off as Percy's stomach grumbled and a somewhat amused smile quirked her lips. "Alright. If you have any questions throughout the week, I am your assigned informant. Luke will sort everything else from here."

The Hermes cabin was just as packed as when he'd left. Luke appeared out of the crowd with a sleeping bag in one hand and some toiletries clutched in the other. He passed them over with a grin and they both sat down in Percy's allocated spot.

"Nicked you some stuff from the camp store."

Percy grinned at him in thanks, noting for the first time that Luke shared similar features with a lot of other kids in the cabin. Sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, all so unlike his own. Luke raised an eyebrow in question.

"You said Hermes was your patron," Percy started slowly, thinking it through. "If Annabeth is to be believed, he's also your father, isn't he?"

Luke snorted. "Not a believer, huh? Don't worry, we all start that way, and life doesn't get easier once you accept it either." He paused for a second and exhaled forcefully. "Yeah, kid. Hermes is my dad. The guy with the winged sandals, jack of all trades, master of none type of thing." The bitterness in Luke's voice surprised Percy for all of one second before he decided that supposed divinity won't endear your own father to you either. He's still the asshole who left you with Gabe.

"Hermes is your father," Percy continued, "but he's not mine."

Luke looked at Percy for a second before surveying the cabin. "Maybe. Maybe not. Ultimately, it doesn't matter. We're one big, dysfunctional family, and we've got your back. Regardless of who your father is."

For a moment, Percy couldn't speak. He could remember receiving a similar speech from Dean.

"It doesn't matter who your dad is, was, whatever. As far as I'm concerned you're a Winchester, and Winchester's look after their own. We got your back kiddo. No matter what."

Percy looked over at Luke and rasped out a quiet, "Thanks."

Luke merely nodded. A horn sounded in the distance, and Luke set about readying the cabin for dinner.

Over the next few days Percy settled into a routine that was not unlike the one he'd had with the Winchesters, yet at the same time it was completely different. He studied Ancient Greek with Annabeth, a task he found very similar to studying lore under Sam's tutelage. Then he'd rotate through various outdoor activities. He knew the Winchesters would be disappointed with his sloppy attempts, but Percy struggled to move past the…otherness of his tutors. Sprinting with the wood-nymphs left him wary, and even archery with Chiron left him on edge. It was hard to keep an eye on the target and his instructor, so his attempts at aiming would have earned him an afternoon of stripping and reassmbling the guns had John been there to witness them. It didn't help that Chiron constantly watched him with eyes that could only be described as sad. It left Percy with a prickling sensation down his spine for hours after the lessons had concluded.

The only place he felt somewhat normal was the wrestling mat. Clarisse was good, and Percy was used to going up against monsters and Winchesters. He didn't win often, but each fight taught him something new. Clarisse looked at him with something akin to respect every time he returned to the mat, determined to learn some more, regardless of the bruises that coloured his body.

In the evenings he sacrificed a small portion of his meal to the gods and tried not to think of how the Winchesters would respond if they knew.

Knowing John, fists would be flying. Questions would wait until after.

He only truly relaxed when he was on the lake. Sitting in a canoe that was cutting through the water was as close to peace as he could get, away from all the staring and murmured speculations as to who his father was. Nevermind that he still didn't buy this whole 'children of the gods' thing.

It was also away from the various threats and judgement that he faced from most of the camp. Nevermind that he'd give up the 'glory' of defeating the minotaur in a heartbeat if it meant he could have his mother back. If it meant that he could pretend this life wasn't real. Even finding out about hunting hadn't felt like this. Hadn't felt so life shattering.

When he'd been introduced to hunting, he knew his mum was still safe at home. John had assured him. But this? This was it for him now. He had no home left. Maybe that's why it felt world ending, regardless of Percy's belief in what he was being told.

It didn't help that Grover had been distant since their arrival. He looked at Percy with this guilt in his eyes, as if it was somehow his fault that Percy had failed to protect his mother. Not Percy's. Percy wasn't sure how to feel about that. How do you confront someone else's guilt when you're still drowning in your own? Add in the fact that apparently Grover wasn't actually human- and god did he have to block out John's voice in his head whenever he remembered that- and the whole relationship had become ridiculously complicated.

But out on the lake? Nothing mattered and no one could touch him. Literally. No one could seem to keep up with him, whether they were seasoned campers or relatively new. Not exactly the kind of skill everyone expected from the slayer of the minotaur, especially when he didn't really excel in his other classes.

By the time Friday rolled around the routine at camp felt almost normal, ignoring the supernatural aspects. It was also time for Percy's first sword fighting lesson. Surrounded by his cabinmates, he couldn't help but feel…nostalgic, for his afternoons with the Winchesters. Learning the basics of slashing and stabbing, destroying dummies stuffed with straw, so different and yet so similar to learning the basics of self defence with Dean. A little exciting. Very difficult. Exhausting. Thrilling. A little off kilter.

Though the last one could be because your sword isn't weighted right, dumbass. Feels very on brand to be the only one that doesn't fit in. Again.

Still, the similarities were a little jarring. Even more so when Luke singled out Percy as his partner for sparring.

Sure, because everyone loves watching the newbie get his ass handed to him by the veteran.

It would have been easy to swap Luke for Sam or Dean. Their teaching methods were nearly identical.

"Keep your guard up!"

Thwack.

"Not that high!"

Thwack.

"C'mon Percy, parry!"

Thwack.

"Now lunge! Good! And back again!"

Thwack.

By the time a break was called, Percy's ribs were bruised to high hell, his muscles were screaming, and all he could think about were the many afternoons with his cousins spent much the same way. Afternoons he'd never experience again. Not now that they'd ditched him, or whatever had actually happened.

Everyone swarmed the drinks cooler, well worn but somehow still fancier than any other he'd seen before. He'd watched Sam pour water over his head on many a hot afternoon, and done the same himself often enough to know how refreshing it was, even for an instant. So when Luke tipped a cup of water over his head, Percy did the same. Instantly he felt better. More awake. His sword didn't feel quite so heavy and awkward. He managed to drink a cup before Luke called the cabin around for a demonstration.

"Circle up, guys! I'm going to demonstrate a complex disarming manoeuvre if Percy doesn't mind." Luke called out over the snickering Hermes cabin. Percy rolled his eyes as he moved to match Luke in front of the group. Luke looked around sternly as he described what to do. "This is a very difficult technique. It can take years to master and even I've had it used successfully against me in combat. Anyone who laughs at Percy automatically becomes my sparring partner next lesson." The snickering stopped.

Luke demonstrated the technique in slow motion. Percy watched Luke very closely, and sure enough his sword went twisting out of his hand. Percy retrieved his sword while Luke moved everyone far back enough so they could safely spar.

"Alright, now in real time." Luke turned to address Percy. "We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off."

Percy gave a shallow nod and settled into a defensive stance. Luke hadn't been taking it easy on him and there was no reason to believe he would start now.

He didn't.

Luke came after him. All of Percy's senses opened up, matching Luke blow for blow and somehow preventing him from getting a shot at the hilt of his sword. This, he was no stranger to. Sparring with someone more experienced was the only way to learn, and all of the Winchesters had multiple years on him. Luke was no different.

Percy tried a thrust to catch Luke off guard. Luke batted it away easily, but he narrowed his eyes and started pushing Percy harder still. Percy could tell he was holding up better than Luke had thought he would, but even still, he was tiring. The unbalanced sword was feeling more and more awkward with every second and Luke's assault wasn't lessening.

Well, you do learn best by doing. Why not?

Percy tried the disarming manoeuvre. Luke's sword went clattering across the arena.

Everyone was silent. Suddenly, he felt self conscious. This was not an afternoon with the Winchesters. Not with an awkward and stunned silence like the one that had settled over the arena. The Winchesters would have crowded him, thumping him on the back with loud cheers and congratulations. Then they would have made him redo the manoeuvre again, and again, and again until it was muscle memory.

"Sorry." The need to apologise was almost suffocating.

Luke broke the silence. "Sorry? Don't be sorry!" He was grinning broadly but Percy still felt completely out of place. "By the gods Percy, show me that again!" Luke continued.

But Percy felt cold. All of a sudden the excitement and energy that had been coursing through him had vanished. Luke retrieved his sword and they resumed their positions. Within seconds, Percy's sword went flying. His heart just wasn't in it.

"Beginner's luck?" Someone called uncertainly from the crowd, but they had all seen the first match. Percy had been holding his own. Luke assessed him.

"Maybe." His eyes met Percy's and seemed to warm a little. "But I have to wonder what Percy could do with a balanced sword." His cabinmates shuffled at the reminder of his additional handicap. Luke called an end to the lesson and sent everyone packing -yet another thing different to training with the Winchesters- and slapped Percy on the shoulder as he passed.

"Hey, Percy."

Percy paused and glanced up at Luke.

"You did really well today, kid. Be proud of yourself. Own it."

At his Greek lesson that afternoon, Annabeth kept shooting him strange looks. Fifteen minutes into the lesson, with the beginnings of a headache tightening around his skull, Percy's patience ran out.

"What?"

Annabeth took her time answering him. Her eyes roamed his face as if mapping out every possible path this conversation could take. She loosed a breath.

"Heard you disarmed Luke this morning."

"Yeah? Why, what's it matter to you?"

She hummed quietly and her eyes became unfocused. Percy's annoyance rose with every second that passed. Eventually she nodded to herself and refocused on Percy. He couldn't help himself.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking…I'm thinking I want you on my team for capture the flag."

'Consider yourself safe until the end of the week, by which time you'll have either proven yourself worthy of respect or I will cut you down at the knees and laugh as you fall, Chiron's wishes be damned.' Well. Either I'm doing something right, or this is going to get very ugly, very fast.