Holy crap this was far more viewed than I expected, so that's cool. Hopefully I do it justice. First to address some things.

Several people, in reviews and in PMs, pointed out that my definition of Western Civilization is incorrect. I am well aware that Western Civilization includes Europe and such. I am not using the traditional definition of Western Civilization; I am using the definition that Chiron gives Percy in the Lightning Thief. The Gods follow Western Civilization around, that's why they are in America. They moved from Europe and Britain in the 1860s according to Rick Riordan. Western Civilization, for the purposes of this story, simply refers to where the Gods reside, which is America.

Secondly, I've had some requests to make this a Percabeth story. Believe me, it was considered. Percabeth is one of my favorite ships, and the fact that it is completely canon makes it all the better. However, there's so many good Percabeth stories out there. I write fanfiction to try and introduce unique thoughts and takes on an idea or story beat. I don't want to add another story that's already been written. I want to add a story that brings something new to the table. That's why I've always been a fan of less popular pairings and OCs.

Killing Annabeth is cliché. Anyone who has read Percy Jackson fanfiction has seen a story where she dies and/or betrays him. I won't be skimming over her death. He'll be grieving and have to get over her. I also won't make Percy get all dark and emo about it either. He is a laidback and happy person overall. My dilemma is making her death affect him realistically while also not being the cliched hating everyone and getting the powers of Hades, Hestia, Hera, and Artemis.

Fleur will be introduced eventually. I'm hoping that you all like where I take the story. I'm hoping to justify Percy being able to fall in love with a beautiful, intelligent badass with blonde hair.

My updates are kind of irregular. Sometimes a muse hits when I have a lot of free time, such as now. Other times I'm in college classes trying to do five years of school in four while also maintaining a full time job and attempting to keep up with Critical Role. Shoutout to my fellow Critters.


Chapter 2- Runaway Memories

Golden eyes glowed angrily, glaring with hate. Grey eyes stared analytically, picking apart weak spots in his defense. Sea green eyes narrowed in determination, preparing for a fight.

Red.

Ares' throne being partially destroyed by the scythe, missing an armrest.

Red.

Annabeth's bloody nose from a collision with a pillar.

Red.

Pouring through her hands, dripping onto the floor, seeping from the hole in her chest.

Red.

His vision tunneling, hatred giving him a second wind to keep fighting.

Red.

Pouring from Luke's armpit and dripping from Riptide, forming a puddle around Luke's cold body.

Red.

His eyes at the funeral, brimming with tears.

Black.

Percy shot upright in bed, covered in a cold sweat. He glanced around, automatically assessing his surroundings with practiced ease. He was in the upper corner bedroom of Number 4 Privet Drive. His mom sent him to his aunt's house to get space from the Gods. Harry was sleeping soundly in the bed on the opposite wall, snoring very slightly. Percy was safe.

Percy glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser in the corner. 4:32 was displayed in faintly green glowing numbers.

"Shit," he swore softly, careful to keep his voice low so he wouldn't wake Harry.

His cousin was great. Simply put, Harry was just as good as Nico and Thalia. Harry had a buried vein of dry humor and sarcasm that could match Percy's own.

The two had turned in early, since the jet lag destroyed Percy's already bad sleep schedule. By the time supper had come around, Percy was barely able to keep his eyes open and keep up with the flat conversation that Dursley's tried to start just out of politeness.

It was quickly becoming clear that Harry was his only ally in the house. Petunia had taken him in, but more as a favor to her sister and not wanting to seem rude than actual care for him. Vernon straight up just didn't want him in the house, and Dudley seemed to agree with his father. The remarks about resembling a perfect circle probably hadn't helped, but he seemed like the kind of person that would be rude and pushy regardless of how polite you treated him.

Percy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with his palms, before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting on the side.

The nightmares were always the same. Glimpses and flashes of watching his friends and fellow campers die. Sometimes the events were slightly changed or seen from a different perspective. They weren't getting better, but they also weren't getting worse. Small mercies at least.

With a slight sigh, Percy stood, pulling out his carry-on and retrieving some workout clothes. Regular underwear was swapped for a more athletic version. Sweatpants were swapped for running shorts. His Goode Swim Team shirt was swapped for a dark blue muscle shirt. Tennis shoes were pulled on, and Percy slipped out of the room, crept downstairs, and out of the house.

Once he stepped outside, onto the driveway, he began stretching to warm up. Gripping his foot and pulling it to touch his thigh and repeating with the other foot. Twisting his torso as far as he could to one side, then as far as it could to the other. Lunges with his arms stretched out in front and behind him. Bending over and touching his toes. Holding his arms straight out from his sides and doing arm circles.

Once he was warmed up and his blood was flowing freely, he began running. Down the sidewalk, crossing roads. The neighborhood of Little Whinging was still asleep in the early morning, and Percy took advantage of the quiet to explore the suburb a little, jogging around and mapping his surroundings in his head.

He started small, just jogging a circle around the Block that the Dursley's lived on. As he became familiar with it, he began expanding his run. Block by block, street by street, slowly going farther and farther from the Dursley's before circling back and starting again.

Running was always nice. It would never compare to how much he enjoyed swimming, but it still helped clear his head and organize his thoughts. It was therapeutic of sorts, and he could probably use some therapy. Not that it would ever happen. How do explain that your kind of sort of girlfriend was killed by the spirit of an Elder God of Time inhabiting his kind of sort of girlfriend's former crush when he used a farming implement to stab her in the chest? Somehow, Percy was pretty sure a therapist would more likely label him with dementia rather than PTSD.

Still, even just being in Britain was making him feel better. His mom had definitely been right about him needing space, and it wasn't just because of Annabeth dying. No, it was also just the feeling of safety. In New York, there was a constant feeling of danger for demigods. Everyone got used to looking over their shoulders, waiting for the next monster attack.

The air in New York felt alive and full of power, which came with being the center of the Godly realm. New York was a hub for godly magic and monsters, and it was obvious by the constant feeling in the back of your head. It sort of felt like a buzz at the base of your skull that thrummed almost constantly, just reminding demigods of exactly where they were and how much magical power was all around them. It was an angry, powerful feeling of something that wasn't necessarily friendly.

Here in England? Nothing. It was peaceful. Birds chirped. Lawnmowers droned in the distance. The occasional car engine buzzed down the street. No sense of danger. Harry didn't like Privet Drive, it was immediately obvious, and Percy understood that living with the Dursley's must be awful, but Percy actually enjoyed Privet Drive. Not because of it being a nice place, because it wasn't. It felt rather artificial, like everyone was copying everyone else. Not because of the nice people, because there weren't any. Dudley the human garbage disposal was solid proof. No, Percy liked Privet Drive for the feeling of safety that he felt there. He just knew, instinctually, that no normal monsters would find him here.

He was outside the land of Gods and Monsters, and only an exceptionally powerful being with a fixation on him specifically could find him here. That could of course happen. It had happened before, after all, but it seemed unlikely. And that's what he wanted. Peace and quiet. Now he had a new family member and some space to grieve Annabeth.

Gods he missed her. His biggest regret would always be not telling her what she meant to him. He had wanted to wait for the right moment to tell her, but he had never gotten the chance. She was smart, funny, and badass. It didn't hurt that she challenged him and pushed him to be better. Not only that, but she understood him and complemented him. What he failed in, she made up for. Where she struggled, he could help. They were a team, and he had failed her. That would haunt him for a long time, maybe forever.

Percy ran for several hours, occasionally stopping for a quick breather and some stretches before continuing. When the sun began peeking over the horizon, Percy turned around and jogged back to the Dursley's.

He entered the house, being quiet so he wouldn't wake anyone. He went back upstairs and changed his clothes, getting back into his sweatpants for the morning. Harry was still asleep. Beside him, the alarm clock read 7:21.

Percy waited a few minutes just to make sure that Harry really was fast asleep, then he quietly pulled out his backpack, unzipping it carefully. He pulled out his photos of his friends, sorting through them again. He might not see them again.

There were some of Grover. He and Percy, sitting in the Strawberry fields. Another of him playing pipes by the dock. There were pictures of Tyson. Him smiling broadly at the camera as he worked on fixing Percy's shield. Him wading in the lake. There were pictures of Thalia. One of the two of them right before a Linkin Park concert. Another of her red-faced, yelling and pointing in Clarisse's face. There were many of his various camp friends. The Stolls. Beckendorf. Will. Silena. Nico. He had enough for a small album if he wanted.

There was only one of Annabeth. He had left the rest with his mom, since it was too hard to look at them all. He had still wanted to bring one, to remember her by. It seemed disrespectful to her to not bring a photo, even if it hurt to look at.

He pulled it out slowly, with trembling hands. It was a picture of the two of them, from a couple months ago. They had been in the midst of war preparations, but both of them had been stressed out. So, Percy had drug Annabeth away from her battle maps and they had spent the day at his mom's apartment, baking and watching movies.

In the picture, Percy and Annabeth were baking Blue Cupcakes. Both of them were covered in batter. The kitchen was covered in batter. The floor had puddles of frosting. It looked like a whirlwind had gone through the house, knocking the results all over the house. But no, it was just his clumsiness and the fact that Annabeth had kept smacking his hand whenever he tried eating the raw batter. The picture had captured the two with brilliant smiles on their faces, covered in batter, sitting in the kitchen of his mom's apartment, with Annabeth hugging Percy and kissing his cheek. Right after, she had called him Seaweed Brain because the kiss on the cheek caused him to stumble and break the bowl they were trying and failing to make cupcakes in.

That was the moment he knew he loved her, and his mom had managed to snag a picture, had it developed and had given it to him. He had been embarrassed at the time, but now it was one of his most treasured items.

"Who's that?" Percy heard from behind him. He suddenly became aware of the tear running down his cheek and he became suddenly aware that Harry had woken up and was looking over his shoulder. He brushed away the tears quickly, before turning to Harry.

"How much did you see?" he snapped, momentarily irrationally angry. Harry looked hurt, and Percy stopped, angry fading away into shame. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. You just caught me at a bad time."

Harry nodded, and the hurt look faded into curiosity and sympathy.

"I didn't mean to intrude. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to," he said, looking slightly guilty for snooping.

"No, it's fine. Considering you're my favorite cousin here, I owe you an explanation," Percy said, handing Harry the picture of Annabeth and him. "This was Annabeth," he said softly.

"Was?" Harry asked, picking up the implication.

"She died in an accident; I couldn't save her. She's the reason I'm here in London. I guess I'm running away from bad memories," Percy said, carefully editing the circumstances of her death. It wouldn't do to reveal the Gods to Harry.

Harry simply nodded, like he understood. Percy appreciated that. The sympathy and the 'sorry that she's dead" really got on his nerves. He knew people meant well, but it really got annoying to hear the same things over and over. Harry seemed to understand that.

"It gets easier," Harry said after a moment. "Maybe I'm wrong. My parents died when I was one, so I barely remember them, so I don't know how much it counts. But I do think it gets easier."

The two sat in companionable silence on Harry's bedroom floor. Harry handed back the picture of Annabeth, which was safely tucked away. The two just sat, processing what they had learned. Percy learning that Harry understood his struggles better than most for whatever reason. Harry learning that his cousin was someone who had been through a lot, similar to him. Neither knew that they were much more right than they thought.

Out of the blue, Harry began to laugh. Hard. Rolling on the floor, tears of laughter hard. Percy stared at him like he was insane. Harry glanced at his look and began laughing harder.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry," he managed to choke out, forcing himself to sober up slightly. "It's just that my uncle thought you got shipped over for shooting up a school, like those shootings that always seem to be on the news over there. He seems to be convinced that you're going to snap and kill Dudley after what you've been calling him. He was trying to convince Petunia how much danger they're in. A dead friend is a way better excuse for moving countries."

The two looked at each other, before breaking into laughter at the absurdity. It wasn't particularly funny, but it was what they needed at the moment. Percy was grieving, and it had been a bit since he was able to smile and laugh. Harry was happy, because for the first time in his life, he had a family member he appreciated. Oh sure, he had Sirius and Remus and the Weasley's. But now he had a cousin, a blood relative that looked at him, not with disdain, but love and respect.

Percy was finding some inner peace. Harry was finding more family. Then the letter came. And Percy had a mental meltdown.


Alright everyone, you know the drill. Read and Review. Let me know your favorite insult or joke that Percy has thrown out so far. I'm curious to know how this is coming along so far.

Also as a side note. Horcruxes will be in this story, but some will be different items. The Ring, The Locket, The Cup, and The Diadem will all be replaced. It allows me to maintain a bit of mystery on how they defeat Voldemort with Percy. I'm hoping it will keep the readers on their toes as much as it does the characters.