A Really, Really Bad Identity Crisis

Welcome back to the story of Percy Jackson and his many past lives revolving around the Assassin Brotherhood!

We hit a MAJOR milestone in recent weeks as of the posting of this chapter, that being that through an angry Guest reviewer calling themselves "Quast," and a bunch of other Reviews after them, we climbed past the 2,000 Review mark! So far, this is the only story have made that mark, thank you all for your generous support over the course of the past…almost four years.

Wow, this story is about to be old enough for preschool…

Anywho, the last chapter ended with Percy waking up after the tumultuous, agonizing, torturous, loving, and somewhat kinky Fourth Life, the memories of Cheyenne crashing into him with Zoë sitting right there next to him.

Let's see how this plays out, with his wife of one life, adopted big sister of another life, biological big sister of another life, and son of yet another life before those all there with their own views and images of Percy while he has a total existential breakdown!

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC

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Inspired by historical events and an over-active imagination, this work of fiction was designed, developed, and produced by a single-cultural team of one religious faith and belief, sexual orientation, and gender identity.

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When he had remembered his life as Faris Ibn-La'Ahad, it had been during the course of a nap he had impromptly taken during the sixth grade at Yancy Academy. He'd woken up groggy as anyone did from a nap, confused at what he had just dreamed of, 23 years of it, and determined to figure it all out. He'd assimilated Faris quite easily, since he'd been a blank slate all his life until then, and so adopted the lifestyle of the kindhearted Faris.

A few months after that, he'd been called up to the attic of the Big House through the Sword of Eden that Baron von Wolff had used to attack Camp Half-Blood 800 years ago. Through contact with the sword, he'd relived his life as Virgil Cavaliere da Roma, son of a general and a dutiful mother, older brother of a bouncing little sister, all three of whom were brutally murdered at the orders of Cesare Borgia. Virgil's life had been twice as long as Faris', him dying at 50, after a life being a husband, a father to three beautiful children, a son and twin girls, and the Mentor of the whole Assassin Brotherhood, spurning the Brotherhood's influence and presence across Europe and through Africa and Asia.

Virgil had been a stern and disciplined man, and raised his children with a firm, guiding hand, and mentored his students as such. He'd accepted the burdens of leadership, leading his house and his Brotherhood through a Golden Age. When Percy remembered that life, it came into slight conflict with Faris, the difference between the two men coming in their views of God—Faris focused more on the forgiveness, love and mercy of God, Virgil more on the wrath, vengeance, and heavy hand of God—and the fact that Virgil was more of a leader than Faris ever was.

Virgil had mostly overridden Faris, but the latter's kind nature remained prominently.

After that, it was something of a small while before Percy remembered his life as Captain Jake Swallow, a man so influential and connected that he had been posthumously declared to be the Grandfather of America and had been awarded the Medal of Honor. That was a life of regret, travel, sarcasm, and hope. Jake had grown wise in his 81 years, a man of philosophy as much as he had been a warrior, friend to an Egyptian magician of the House of Life, mentor to Connor Kenway, Assassin, and mentor to George Washington, son of Athena and First President.

81 years had certainly a long time with many ups and downs and wild experiences and emotions, and it had taken Percy a while to process and compartmentalize all of that, but at the end of the day, it was still Virgil who had reigned supreme in Percy's mind and soul. Jake had lived a long life, but he'd never taken up the mantle of fatherhood and husbandhood, he'd never taken on the Mentoring and leading of an international army of professional killers. In some ways, Jake had shirked responsibility, pawned and passed it off, but definitely not Virgil.

They also disagreed in their views of God, Jake treating the Bible more as just another religion in the world due to the confirmed existence of the pagan gods of Egypt, while Virgil and Faris had both agreed that the Bible was the book of the religion, in that there were certainly other gods, but they were nothing to the God, who allowed them to exist, though Faris was more along the lines of this was an act of love and grace and Virgil was more along the lines of that their time was finite and their judgement would severe for their centuries of unrepentant sin.

So, Virgil had still been the number one in Percy, something that only got stronger due to him reassuming his role as Mentor over the modern-day Brotherhood.

Then there was Cheyenne.

Percy gripped his head and screamed as his most recent life's memories came crashing into him as if they'd been spewed from an erupting super volcano. Zoë was blasted back wards and through the wall of the room in the Big House by a wave of power, a wave that churned the sea and the sky, causing the waves to violently crash upon the beach, the cold winds to shriek and howl, the sky to swirl and rumble with lightning and thunder, and the very ground started to quake as Cheyenne's raging emotions overtook Percy.

The hatred, the rage, the sorrow, the love. Percy screamed as the tumult ran through his body, head to toe and back through, over and over. He suddenly hated the Assassins with all his being; he suddenly raged against the Creed and all those who followed it; he was heartbroken over Shay's death, in agony over the years of torture he went through at the hands of the vengeful Assassins; and his heart burned with endless love for Zoë, and only Zoë.

It felt like Cheyenne was trying to erase all feelings of love for Claudia, the love for Kassandra, and the developing love for Lou Ellen.

Along that line, it also felt like Cheyenne was in there, hosting a shouting match with Faris, Jake, and Virgil, screaming about their God and their Creed as she poured all her hatred onto them for a multitude of reasons. The contrary being that was Cheyenne went against those of the men: more than just being a woman, she hated the Creed that the first two Assassins had studied and dutifully followed, and she hated the God that they both loved even more.

The conflicting, contradicting nature brought more screams from Percy's mouth, more waves of power that were tearing apart the Big House, sending wood and furniture all over the place. Percy could vaguely hear Zoë's panicked pleading, and that of Bianca/Mary Read, Thalia/Evie Frye, and Nico/his own son Giovanni, but they were just whispers in a screaming gale.

On top of the emotional avalanche and the contrasting nature between Cheyenne and the other three was a whole downpour of physical memories.

Following the volcano metaphor, compared to the roiling lava and billowing storm overhead, the physical memories were the little bits of ash and rock that rained down, but even those little bits were enough to start a wildfire.

Percy's body felt aflame: as far it knew, it had just spent the past 30 years as a female, was a woman of 30 just a few seconds ago but was now a boy of 14, and was trying to rectify that somehow. For some reason, the clownfish kept popping into Percy's head amongst everything else, everything being all the physical things that had happened to Cheyenne. The whips and the rods of the teachers she pissed off with her skill and memory; the blades that cut, nicked, and pierced her; the bullets that went through, those that got stuck and she had to dig them out; the pains of puberty, like the cramps of her vagina and the pain as her chest developed; the pain of her rape at Belloc's fury—being pinned down flat, chest to the ground, a rag in her mouth to muffle her screams as the angry man violated her ass, blood streaming from her like the tears from her eyes.

That particular memory brought back a whole host of other memories that Percy had up until this point successfully buried in the back of his mind, but now Cheyenne was unwittingly dredging up Nero.

Among the pain was all the perverse pleasure when he'd spread his legs as Cheyenne and welcomed the bodies of those three Assassins, and after that was the pleasure of Zoë's ministrations, followed immediately by shame at how he'd behaved and acted in response to the Hunter's motherly affections.

It felt like a betrayal of Aquila and Sally, Virgil and Percy's respective mothers. It was shameful that Cheyenne had been, compared to Virgil anyway. The stalwart, upright, unshakeable, unbreakable man that balanced raising his children in the ways of the Lord, being a dutiful and faithful husband, and leading the Brotherhood…to a mewling young woman that welcomed being treated as a child, surrendering independence and responsibility to a female lover—just one of many taboos but a taboo all the same.

Zoë had dressed Cheyenne, put her down for naps and for the night, prepared food and hand-fed her many a breakfast, dinner, and supper, often times with the milk of her chest. Anger and ire rose in Percy then, directed solely at Zoë for her deception, and the humiliation he now felt at willingly entering such a position, suckling from the tit all during her 20's.

The kind, caring, firm father that never cried, never wavered, instilled discipline, respect, and love in his children…to a submissive little girl in an ageplay kink with another woman.

It was too much this time. Cheyenne was too different from the others, too different to assimilate and compartmentalize. She raged and warred too much with Virgil especially, the two being polar opposites of each other. If Percy had never been Virgil, he would've been fine right now. Faris and Jake would've coexisted just fine, and Cheyenne, being the snarky and sarcastic girl that she was, would've taken over and would've been the dominant personality.

Percy's being started to split apart at the seams, Cheyenne's emotions and memories overwhelming his discipline and constitution that desperately fought back to keep himself together but was failing abysmally. The points of view of those who could see Percy in his personal typhoon, it looked like cracks of light were appearing about his form. He was literally coming apart, his body outputting too much divine power in the face of his wild emotions.

Zoë saw the cracks of light appearing on her Cheyenne's body and knew what they meant, having seen this phenomena occur several times over the course of her life. Her eyes went wide and her blood seemed to seize in her veins. She desperately reached, crying out as loud as she could, "CHEYENNE! STOP!" but she was unheard over the raging gale.

That's when a woman wearing a simple white dress and a pair of sandals, as if she were about to go for a stroll on the beach, calmly walked past Zoë, her clothes and hair gently settled around her, completely unbothered by the raging storm. Bianca, Nico, and Thalia all watched, just as stunned as Zoë was, as this new arrival calmly walked up to the floating, curled-into-a-ball Percy, stepped up onto the bed, and wrapped her arms around him.

The storm died and the world calmed.

"An angel…" Nico breathed quietly.

"A moment, please, children," the angel said.

Dazed and stunned, the four left what was left of the room and had to navigate their way out of the remains of the Big House.

"Mom," Percy keened through his tears.

Not Faris, not Virgil, not Jake, not Cheyenne, but Percy. A fourteen-year-old orphaned rape victim who'd been thrust into a world of gods and monsters, unrealistic expectations pressed on him from all sides, the lifetimes of four different people shotgunned into his head, and his own lifetime of peril and pain. Right now he was just a boy who had his layers stripped away and had been left raw and barren, agonized and afflicted.

"Shh, Percy, shh. I'm here now," Sally said as she bounced and rocked her son in her arms, now sitting with him just sprawled upon her.

"Why me, Mom?" he asked quietly, totally spent.

"Why Mary and Joseph? Why Saul, John, and Peter? Why Moses? Why David? Because God chose them because He knew they could do it—He knows that you can do it. I know you can do it."

"But it hurts. It hurts so much—Cheyenne…she…she's hurting…s-s-s-so mu-mu-much."

Sally smiled sadly. "Cheyenne?" she called. "Sweetheart, it's time to let go now. I know you're angry and hurting, but you don't have to anymore. You have a bunch of big brothers that are ready and willing to help you, you just have to let them. It's okay now, Cheyenne. You're safe."

And through Percy, Cheyenne crumbled. Her hatred melted and her rage died, leaving only the truth: that for all time she had been an alone, scarred, hurting child. In the arms of Virgil, Cheyenne broke down, a two-decade-old damn shattering as she gave it all up and poured out her heart. In Sally's arms, a fresh of tears and crying swept through Percy as Cheyenne's vengeful will finally buckled and broke under the power of pure, unconditional love.

Zoë had done a great job in the decade they'd been married, but it hadn't been enough, even with the motherly affection she'd showered Cheyenne with.

But it was now.

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A while later, Sally was laying on the bed, Percy still curled in her arms, eyes red and puffy, breathing steady and calm.

"What am I going to do, Mom?"

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

"I mean what am I going to do about me? I'm Nico's father, Bianca's little brother, Thalia's little brother, Zoë's wife, and Lou Ellen's boyfriend…what do I…how do I balance all of that? Can I balance all of that? How can I uphold the image I have to one person, and maintain the image I have with another? I don't know what to do…I don't know how to do it…"

Cheyenne might've finally surrendered her feelings of hatred and rage against the Assassins and the Christian God, but she was still very much her own person, still very much independent, still very much unwilling to just fall into line behind Virgil like Faris and Jake had done, the former because that was what he did, the latter because he didn't care one way or the other. Cheyenne still very much wanted to go jumping into Zoë's arms and fuck each other senseless all night long and then spend the next day just basking in each other's presence after breakfast.

Virgil didn't want to do that. Virgil hadn't given up Claudia, and the only reason Percy was allowing a developing relationship with Lou Ellen was out of the notion that the law had been fulfilled and that death had done Virgil and Claudia apart. Percy felt the argument between them rising, Cheyenne feeling that since Zoë was still very much alive that she had the green light to pick up where they left off, trying to make a baby, while Virgil argued that their marriage was false in the eyes of God and sinful in nature to begin with, and before they could start going back and forth, Percy interjected with Lou Ellen.

What did this whole thing mean for her?

Did it mean anything for her?

Honestly, who was Lou Ellen compared to Claudia, Kassandra, and Zoë? Virgil had been married to Claudia and raised their three children together; Jake and Kassandra fell hard for each other, had sex, and Kassandra gave birth to that child but had to send him away months later due to the Order of the Ancients, and Jake had spent his whole life regretting that, his escaping the responsibility of being a father; and Cheyenne and Zoë had been married for almost ten years, and were making plans for a child of their own right before Cheyenne's gruesome, brutal, untimely death. Who was Lou Ellen compared to those women?

Percy had barely known her for two years, the most intimate thing shared between them physically being hugs, kisses, and cuddles. There was that teleportation incident that swapped their clothes, so Percy knew what it was to wear Lou Ellen's underwear, and they had shared a bed during their stay at the Assassin's South Dakota safe house at the Farm, but they never touched each other beyond an arm around the other, Percy abstaining from any kind of sexual activity primarily because Lou Ellen wasn't his wife, secondarily because he wasn't even fourteen yet.

Granted, there were those rare times in which Lou drank way too much before bed and she ended up soaking through her diaper and inadvertently peeing on him.

It took a lot for a man to not kick someone's ass for peeing on him, accidentally or not. Of course, Percy, through Virgil, had experience with that since his daughter Christina, now Hylla, had often come running to his bed when she was a child, little twin sister in tow, after a nightmare, piled up onto of him and Claudia, got comfy, went back to sleep, and had an accident. When Lou had done the same thing, Percy had channeled his full Virgil and didn't make a fuss about it despite how totally mortified Lou was.

Other than that, Lou Ellen had nothing on Percy's former lovers.

Or did she?

She wasn't Virgil's Claudia, or Jake's Kassandra, or Cheyenne's Zoë, but she was Percy's Lou Ellen. Percy was his own person, not just a body filling up with the memories and experiences of other people—he was entitled to his own opinions, likes and dislikes, lifestyle choices, and romantic interests. He could damn well pursue a relationship with Lou Ellen if he wanted—

—but did he just completely sideline Zoë?

Technically, he was no more Cheyenne than he was Faris, Virgil or Jake. He was their reincarnations or something like that (he was still figuring that out); he had their memories, their experiences, their pain and their joy, but he wasn't them. Not a hundred percent them, not anymore. The argument could be made that the marriage bond between Cheyenne and Zoë was dissolved, but that argument crumbled under the fact that Percy still viewed Claudia as his wife. Another argument could be made that Cheyenne and Zoë were never married in the first place, not in accordance with the preexisting doctrines of the Bible that had been instilled in him and studied for over a hundred years.

That didn't hold up because it felt like Cheyenne was trying to slap him from the inside.

Valid in the eyes of God or not, Cheyenne's love for Zoë burned like wildfire in Percy.

"Mom? Why is love so complicated?"

Sally laughed. "Because it's an emotion, and emotions are complicated."

"Blegh." After some more silence, Percy asked, "What do I do? Zoë's still alive…and Lou Ellen is obviously alive…I can't just…give one of them up. It's not fair!"

There were a lot of meanings behind Percy's insistence that it was not fair.

"I know, baby. Unfortunately, I don't have any experience with reincarnation and past lovers—there's a reason why reincarnation isn't a Biblical thing—but I know your heart. You're going to be alright."

"Okay….Mom?"

"Yes, baby?"

"How are you here?"

Sally kissed the top of her son's head. "I attended church a few times when I was a teenager and Uncle Rich got sick. I got saved. Fell out of touch with the church when Uncle Rich died and I raised you, but my name was never taken out of the book of life."

"…what's it like Heaven?"

"It's beautiful. Maud, Umar, Virile, Aquila, Anita, Emiliana, Claudia, and your crew all say hi."

Percy gasped and sat up, but Sally was already gone.

He crossed his arms with a huff.

"Typical."

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Zoë was in mortal peril.

In her life she'd had encounters with children of the Big Three gods, and she was always able to outmatch them due to her powers as the Lieutenant of the Hunt and the daughter of Atlas, but that was when she was one on one. One and two got a bit dicey, and one on three was unprecedented.

Especially when they were all extremely cross with her and out for her blood. The pubescent witch wasn't helping matters.

"What did you do to my father/brother/sister?"

Zoë blinked as the demigods and they all looked at each other, surprised themselves how they all managed to speak in unison up until the personal noun, with Nico and Bianca looking at Thalia for her use of the word "sister." Lou Ellen didn't say anything, knowing exactly why Thalia had used "sister," but declining to elaborate for the sake of repressing her shudders.

With a Celestial Bronze spear and a couple of Stygian Iron swords at her throat, Zoë tried to explain things, but she never got the chance.

"That's enough."

The gathered five turned to see Percy in the ruined doorway of the Big House.

"Ah, finally," Dionysus chirped. He snapped his fingers, and the wreckage went into reverse as every wall, ceiling, piece of furniture, and little splinter was put back into place.

"Thank you," Percy said. "Zoë, come inside with me please."

"Ooh, spicey."

"Lucy," Zoë growled at the witch who had appeared atop the balcony of the Big House.

"Don't mind me. I'm just here to watch the show." Lucy winked at Lou Ellen. "Baby sister."

Lou managed to bristle at the jab at her bedwetting and shrink at who was talking to her.

Percy the ancient witch, not knowing her, but already categorizing her as the kind of witch the Bible spoke against. Turning his attention back to Zoë, he gestured at her to follow him inside, and so she did. When they were inside, alone together and standing in the middle of the main room, Percy threw his arms around Zoë and she around him.

"I've missed you, ma belle femme."

Tears sprang to Zoë's eyes. "Tu m'as manqué aussi."

This was where Zoë wished she was naïve. She wished she could be a lovestruck, silly girl that didn't think of all outcomes and possibilities of a situation. She wished she could think that this could be so simple as putting their rings back on, kissing, maybe going to a bedroom together, maybe not, and then resuming their marriage, picking up with the way Zoë had discovered to get Cheyenne pregnant. But Zoë wasn't silly or naïve.

She was old. She was wise. She was experienced. She was cynical.

Tragically, the main reason she was crying wasn't because she was holding her Cheyenne in her arms again after two centuries, but because she knew that their marriage was never going to be like it was.

"I-I take it we're not about to put our rings back on and try to have a child together, are we?" Zoë smiled through her tears, trying to make light of the situation.

Percy smiled, his mouth filling with the salty taste of tears. "N-Nope, not today."

They held each other for a long, silent time, eventually moving to sit on the couch together.

"I'm not…I'm not just Cheyenne….I'm Faris, and Virgil, and Jake, and I'm Percy. I…"

"I know, ma petite chérie," Zoë said. "I know about Faris, and Virgil, and Jake, and who you are now. Claudia, your daughters and son reincarnated, how you helped found the gods' current seat of power, and about your ties to the Assassins and your relationship with Hecate's daughter, Lou Ellen Williams, and I know that you're conflicted. Your past wife, the girl you love today, and me…I'm so sorry I'm doing this to you."

"I need time, Zoë. I need to figure things out."

Zoë kissed him and he kissed her back.

"I'm here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I'm here."

Percy smiled a watery smile. "I need to poop."

"Okay."

Percy got up and went to the nearest bathroom. He dropped his pants and stared. He'd lost something.

"That explains the clownfish," she muttered.

Percy closed her eyes in concentration, thinking about the clownfish and his male body. A strange tingling emanated from his crotch, and she opened her eyes, he sighed in relief. Sitting down to take care of business, Percy idly remembered when he'd come back from Jake's life, body racked with the aches and pains of the old man's body, and figured that through some Poseidonly power he had, one tied to the clownfish, his body had changed to fit the memories of Cheyenne.

If he started cramping even without ovaries, he was going to be very unhappy.

Percy could also hear Cheyenne grumpily muttering about him rearranging her body, making Jake snicker, Faris hide his smile behind his hand, and Virgil just cross his arms with a smirk.

He finished his busines, flushed, washed his hands, opened the door, and got a face full of mummy.

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As promised, I return to continue tearing up Percy's psyche!

If you're confused about what promise I'm speaking of, I've begun work on a Star Wars crossover than you can find on my stories page. Check it out if you haven't already.

All of this drama is so much fun: the clashing of the personalities and the ideas of how things should be done and shouldn't be done, the conflicting views of right and wrong, the burning desires of the heart versus the constitution of the mind.

Zoë versus Lou Ellen: what was versus what is; what could still be versus what could be. What is fair? What is proper? Cheyenne and Zoë married and Zoë is very much alive—shouldn't Percy break it off with Lou and resume his relationship with Zoë? Is it even his relationship, or Cheyenne forcing it through him? What should Zoë do? What should Lou Ellen do?

And what about Nico, Bianca, and Thalia, Virgil's son, Jake's adopted sister, Peter's biological sister? What should they do for Percy?

What are any of them going to do compared to what they should do?

Will anyone…else…have to show up to help?

Of course, the irony to all of this is that we all know how the story of Cheyenne and Zoë turns out—you can figure out what's going to break loose.

But don't let that stop you from Faving, Following, and Reviewing please!