2/12/21

Sorry for the big wait. I've been having a rough time with school and shit, but I'm back. Hope yall enjoy this long chapter, and I'll see you guys next time.

Wordcount: 4126

It's Good To Be Back

—

Hazel POV:

When Hazel woke, it was still dark. No light streamed through the porthole in her room, nor any light creeping under her door. She briefly wondered why she was awake when the deck above her creaked.

Her heart raced as she slipped out of her bed. Either one of the crew had gone for a walk at- she glanced at her clock- four in the morning or they were under attack. She slid out of her room, sword in hand. The hallway was dark, but she managed to get to the staircase to the deck without bumping into anything.

The steps were silent as she crept up, peeking her head above the floorboards to scan for intruders.

The deck was empty, but one figure stood at the helm, silently standing guard. She briefly wondered if it was one of the gods, but quickly shook the idea out of her head. As the legion approached the Greek camp, the god's headaches worsened, to the point that only a few of the gods were in any shape to be on the Argo.

The mist, both regular and mythological swirled around them, clinging to their clothes and face. The mist was thick, akin to when she met Hecate, but different, somehow. Older.

She shifted her weight, and the stair underneath her groaned. The figure's head snapped to her just as she ducked back below the deck. Her heart raced as she tightened her grip on her sword. They had to have seen her. She contemplated trying to wake the rest of the crew, but it could have just been Jason doing a night watch.

"Hello?" A voice rang out, and she instantly calmed. It was just Percy, back from wherever he has gone after they told him about Annabeth. They had initially tried to find him but had given up after Festus informed Leo he had jumped overboard. With no other choice, they continued to sail, and hope the son of Poseidon would come back when he was ready.

Hazel stepped up onto the deck, giving the demigod a small wave, "Hello."

"Oh, it's just you. Good morning Hazel." He greeted.

Hazel made her way over to the helm, "Why are you still up? It's not like we trashed your room when you were gone." Her attempt at humor succeed as Percy snorted, before waving her question off, "Wasn't tired. 'Sides, I had to do some research."

When she reached him, she saw what he meant. Books, several of them, were spread along the control panel, opened to various pages. Almost all the books were written in a language she couldn't understand, probably greek, but one was in English, and she remembered seeing it once before. Just after they had left camp Jupiter, Annabeth had pulled out a book to compare the greek and roman immortals.

"I thought you hated reading?" As far as demigods went, Percy was probably the most dyslexic out of all of them, even having trouble reading Latin, and as she found out later, greek.

He snorted, "Hate's too kind a word. Loathe probably fits better, but I had some questions that needed answers."

She scanned the page, trying to read it. One word was constantly repeated down the whole page, Nyx.

"Who's Nyx?" Hazel questioned, and immediately regretted it. The Lares at camp had always warned that names had power, now she understood why.

The wind picked up, cold air piercing straight through her thin pajamas. The moon overhead seemed less bright, the night growing deeper and shadows growing longer. The deck rattled under her feet and the rigging groaned, ropes stretching to their limits. Her skin crawled, and the feeling of being watched crawled up her spine.

Percy's hand clamped onto her shoulder, and the wind died down. The deck felt solid under her and the moon shined true. The feeling of being watched slowly faded, but she still gave the area a quick double-check, just to be safe.

"Names have power, Hazel," Percy's voice was deathly quiet, "Best to always be careful, trust me." Hazel numbly nodded, not trusting herself to talk.

He released his iron grip on her shoulder, "You should probably head back to bed, you'll need the sleep." She nodded, making her way back to the stairs.

Just before she reached the stairs, she paused, turning to look at Percy, "You never answered my question, you know."

He glanced up, eyebrows furrowed, "What was your question?" Evidently, he had forgotten.

"Who is… whoever you're researching?"

Percy sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, suddenly looking far older than he was, "That's what I'm trying to find out."

—

Percy POV:

Zoë really hadn't been lying when she said about Nyx being reclusive. The books spoke mostly of Gaea, and only a few pages on the others, great if your fighting Gaea which, granted, they were, but not much use for anything else. They also constantly contradicted each other, one of the books claiming she was actually a he, and another saying that she had faded, both of which were not true as far as he knew.

They did, however, all agree on a few things, that she was the primordial of Night, which he already knew, and that she created hellhounds and a handful of minor gods over the years. So he had Nyx to thank for Mrs. O'leary, who knew. He tried to find more info about champions of primordials, but it hadn't happened before as far as he could see and by this point, his head began to throb from all the info he had stuffed in it so he decided to throw in the towel and call it a day.

Creeping down the stairs, extra careful to not wake anyone, even if everyone was going to wake up soon anyway, they needed every minute of sleep they could get. Not him, though. Every time he fell asleep in Tartarus, horrible, gods awful nightmares would haunt him, far worse than any other demigod dream. From watching his friends being killed one by one to being flayed alive, there was never a restful night's sleep.

And the worst part? They felt real. He could sense the waves crashing against the shore, smell the strawberry fields at camp, feel the heat from the flames that burned down the camp. Every time he fell asleep, he would think he was back at camp, watching as Gaea slowly drowned his friends in mud, only to awake and be back in the pit, unsure if it was a vision or imagination. Hades, he wasn't even sure if this was real. Sure, it felt real, but so did every other dream. Pinching didn't work, he could feel pain in his dreams, so he had no way to tell.

The door to his room closed behind him with a soft click. He set the books down on his desk with a soft thump. He had gotten the books from Annabeth's room, but it's not like she was around to ask for them back. Wandering to his closet, he opened it, expecting it to be trashed and messy as usual, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that someone had washed and put away all his clothes. Kinda strange, but he wasn't about to complain about fresh clothes after two months (as he had decided that's how long it had felt) wearing the same pair of jeans, socks, shoes, and what was left of his shirt. Not including the clothes Nyx gave him, but that had only been a day or so before he escaped through the doors.

He threw on a t-shirt and some sweatpants, the closest thing to pajamas he owned; comfortable, but able to fight in if he awoke during an attack. He plopped down into his bed, shifting this way and that, attempting to get comfortable. He knew he really should have been sleeping long before he was, as at this rate he was likely only to get two hours of sleep tops, but he didn't quite care. Maybe he didn't even need sleep, after all, he had spent far longer awake in Tartarus without any adverse effects. Maybe because he was partially immortal? He would have to ask Thalia.

He closed his eyes, finally comfortable. Hopefully, now that he was out of Tartarus, his dreams would go back to normal, or as normal as they had been before. He wondered if giving Hypnos or Morpheus an offering or something would help, but he was already so comfy and as far as he knew there wasn't a fire onboard he could burn something on anyways. And what even would he sacrifice, anyway? A pillow? A nice, fluffy blanket? Melatonin?

Speaking of melatonin, he thought, begrudgingly sitting up, he needed to take one. He flicked on his lamp, snatching up the bottle of pills off the bedside table. Raising his arm, a stream of water drifted from the tap in the bathroom over to him in a rough sphere. Popping a pill in his mouth, he downed the water, feeling a slight burst of energy rush through him. Slightly counterproductive, but he wasn't about to dry swallow a pill.

Settling back down again, he let himself relax for the first time since the fall. No monsters would sneak up on him here, no angry giants ready to strike him dead. Just him and the rest of the seven.

His thoughts slowed, the melatonin kicking in, easing him into unconsciousness. Mortal melatonin would take much longer to kick in, but thankfully the Apollo cabin had godly strength stuff, strong enough to put you to sleep in five minutes.

His eyes closed one last time as unconsciousness took him in its grasp.

Percy's eyes snapped open, immediately alert. Tree bark scratched at his back as he awoke, evidently he had been leaning against it. Blue, cloudless skies stretched above him, branches from a great pine tree, partially obstructing his view. His eyes fell from the skies, and Camp Half-Blood stretched in front of him. Or, what was left of it.

The peaceful valley that he once knew was gone. Cabins burned and smoldered, sending pillars of smoke into the sky. Bodies littered the ground, dressed in orange and purple, armor and weapons broken and battered. Blood saturated the ground, creating a field of mud he had to trudge through. Trying to make it solid enough to walk on did nothing but give him a headache, so he forced himself to move, and to not look down.

He tried to make out the face of one of the bodies, but it was smooth, like a mannequin. Whether that was any better than real faces, he didn't know. Bile rose up his throat, but he forced it down. He was not going to throw up.

The basketball courts were trashed, poles were broken and bent, and the balls slashed through. The hearth was destroyed, burning logs scattered every which way, no doubt the cause of several of the cabins demises.

The cafeteria and arena had fared no better, it seemed. Craters littered the ground, chunks of marble and rock blasted away as if it were nothing. The corpses grew denser, to the point where he had to watch his step or risk stepping on a body. Not that it really mattered, he was fairly certain this was a dream. The ground grew wetter with blood until the mud reached up to his shins, boots squelching with each step.

The beach, it seemed, had been mostly spared. The corpses, while still present, had thinned out. The craters had disappeared, and waves lapped against the golden sand, almost teasing him.

The ground rumbled, breaking him out of whatever remnant of peace he had gained, and everything began to shake. Percy spun around, Riptide extending, just in time to watch the big house get swallowed whole. A great vent opened in the ground and the big house tipped in as if it were a mere child's toy. The ground shook once again, enough to force even the son of the earthshaker to his knees.

Thousands of tons of dirt shifted, the entirety of half-blood hill melting and forming a new shape, the face of a sleeping woman.

"You live," Gaia murmured, "Good, good. Your blood will be preferred when I awake."

Raw fury pumped through his veins, "Where is Annabeth?" He growled, cutting straight to the point, "What have you don't with her?"

"I have done nothing with the girl yet," Gaia laughed, "My children, however, have had a lot of fun. Wouldn't want them getting rusty right before a battle, no?"

Percy seethed, "I swear if even a hair on her head is out of place, I will drown you a thousand times over."

The hill sized face grew a small smile, and Gaia murmured one last message, "Who's drowning who?" The ground at Percy's feet immediately became liquid, and he quickly sank in, the earth swallowing him. Survival instincts immediately kicked in, forcing his mouth shut as the mud surged over his head, cutting his access to oxygen off.

He tried to hold his breath, but the ground tightened its grip on him, slowly crushing like a python squeezing its prey. The air was forced from his lungs and he reflexively breathed in, allowing the dirt to rush into his lungs. He tried to cough, but more dirt poured into his mouth.

The earth shook as if Gaia was laughing at him, "Choke, my little pawn, choke." His lungs screamed for air, his futile attempts to free himself slowing down. Gaia's laughter slowly faded as he grew closer and closer to passing out. With one last kick, he went still, succumbing to the earth, thoughts fading quickly.

Percy gasped as he woke, lungs struggling to take in oxygen. He sat upright, hand flying to his unruly hair. He scanned his surroundings, which were the same as they had been before he went to sleep. Right, sleep, he had been dreaming. Light streamed through the porthole in his window, and his senses told him it was 8:27, just before breakfast.

Stumbling into the bathroom, still shaking the sleepiness from his bones, he quickly brushed and flossed. Finishing with that, he pulled out some new clothes and ended up with his boots, a CHB shirt, and a pair of cargo pants. They were slightly loose, so he grabbed a belt from his dresser and threw it on. He didn't know he even owned a belt.

As it was breakfast time, the crew was likely to be eating currently, and he was slightly hungry, he decided to have food with the crew for the first time since the fall. Pushing open his cabin door, he made his way through the empty hallway towards the dining room, muffled voices confirming his thoughts.

When he stepped into the room, everyone went silent. Taking a quick headcount, it seemed the whole crew had assembled, including, "Zoë!" Percy exclaimed, "You're awake!"

Zoë raised an eyebrow, but he could see a small smile on her face, "As are you. Your arm healed?" Some of the others grew concerned, seemingly not having known. He smirked, lifting his arm to show her, careful not to show his wrist, "Yup, good as new." She nodded, satisfied.

For a beat it was silent, and Percy took the opportunity to slide into one of the chairs, Hazel smiling at him from the next seat over. Jason spoke up, "I'm still curious about something, how do you two know each other, and how in Jupiter's name did you find each other in Tartarus of all places?"

Percy glanced briefly at Zoë, who gestured for him to explain, "Well, we met a few years back on a quest to save Artemis, during which she, well, died."

Jason frowned at the mention of Artemis, "That was you? We had been told that the hunters freed her by themselves."

"Well, they didn't exactly lie. Zoë and another hunter were both on the quest, along with me, Thalia, and my friend Grover, a satyr."

Percy slid one of the bowls over to him, magically enchanted to contain any food you could want, like the goblets at camp but for food. Plain Cheerios appeared in his bowl, but with no milk.

Not that he minded, it was what he had nearly every morning when he was a kid. After Gabe's booze, cigars, and rent, his mom didn't have enough money for both milk and cereal. He didn't mind the Cheerios either, good for the heart and all, and gods knows his heart needs all the help it can get.

Jason nodded, "And Tartarus? Must have been a major shock to see a dead person walking in literal hell."

Percy snorted, "You got that right. We met just before we got out, and assaulted the doors together. At first, I thought I was seeing shit, like a mirage, but turns out ol' mud face bit off more than she could chew when she brought back people from the dead and ended up taking Zoë with them."

"Did anyone else come back as well?" Piper's voice was hopeful, obviously hoping that maybe one of the ancient heroes had returned.

Percy's eyebrows furrowed, "Not that I know of, Zoë?" She shook her head as well, solidifying it. She had returned alone.

"But enough about me, what happened when I was gone? And why does Frank look like a linebacker now?" He pointed his spoon at the offending Roman, who blushed at the attention.

Hazel chuckled, "Well, it's quite a long story."

Percy shrugged, taking a bite of cereal, "It's only breakfast, we've got time."

And so, from just after he fell up until they closed the doors on the mortal side, they filled him in on everything that happened while he was gone. It was definitely abbreviated, but they covered major events, like Nico leaving with Reyna and Coach after they closed the doors to bring the statue back to camp. That wasn't the greatest, as he had wanted to speak to the son of Hades. The kid had a way of knowing things, and he trusted him enough to keep his secret.

There was no mention of Annabeth, which he suspected was deliberate, but that was fine with him. Best not to tear that wound right back open so soon.

Percy spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl as he scavenged the last few bits of cereal left, "So, what's up next? Finding another statue?"

Hazel spoke up this time, "Thankfully, no. We are headed for the palace of Odysseus. Word is that the suitors have been brought back by Gaia, and that's our best lead."

Percy nodded, taking it all in, "How far away are we? Who's going?"

"Me, Jason, and Piper are going, and we are-" Hazel glanced at Leo, who finished her sentence, "about five minutes away."

"Five minutes? Well, go prepare then!" He raised his hands and made a shooing motion. Hazel just rolled her eyes.

As he finished the last spoonful of cereal, he realized just how thirsty he was. For a moment he went to stand but remembered he could just use his powers to grab a drink. Closing his eyes, he mentally felt around for water.

First, and most obvious, was the ocean they were sailing on. Then he felt the plumbing, running to and fro throughout the ship. Then several large and warm water vessels, which he realized with a sickening feeling, were his friends. He could feel their hearts beating, pumping blood up and down arteries and veins, ever so slightly thicker than regular water.

He pushed past them with a slight shudder and continued searching, which finally bore fruits. Several pressurized cans of a fluid thicker than water were in the next room over, the kitchen. He closed his grasp on one of them and began to pull.

Percy's eyes snapped open and his arm flew up, startling everyone else at the table. An object buzzed just next to Frank's head, nearly hitting him, and slammed into his outstretched palm. Now that it was stationary, everyone could see what it was, a can of coke, which Percy promptly opened and began to drink.

"Did you just…?" Leo trailed off, in awe.

"Summon a can of coke with my Poseidon powers? You bet your ass I did." He smirked, taking another sip of cool caffeinated glory.

Leo's eyes widened in childlike glee, "Can I have one?" Percy chuckled, deciding to humor the child of Hephaestus. Another can, moving much slower this time, hovered around the corner and into Leo's open hand.

He looked at the can as it had fallen from the sky, cracking it open and cautiously taking a sip. He cackled looking up, "Well Aquaman, you are now the designated barista." Piper snorted in laughter and Percy rolled his eyes, lips curling slightly.

The boat shifted, coming to a halt as the anchor dropped. Festus creaked over the intercom and Leo stood, "We've arrived."

The three prepared rather quickly, Hazel weaving the mist around them to create a disguise. After a laugh at grandpa Jason, they set off to climb the cliff to reach the palace. A small sea breeze blew his hair down into his eyes, partially blinding him.

He attempted to comb it out of the way with his fingers, but it fell back down as soon as he took his hand away. He really needed a haircut, but it wasn't like he could just head to the nearest barbershop and ask for a few inches off the top. Did anyone on the ship know how to cut hair? Jason, Frank, and Leo likely didn't. Hazel and Zoë might be able but he wasn't sure, and Piper likely knew or at least had a natural talent as Aphrodites kid. During the summers at Camp Half-Blood, the Aphrodite cabin did haircuts and such, so it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume she could as well.

Sadly, Piper was currently making her way up a mountain with Hazel, which left his haircut options to Zoë alone, who he didn't even know if she could cut hair, much less men's hair.

For demigods, a lot of seemingly innocent things could be deadly, like long hair. Having longer hair wasn't deadly per se, but it wasn't unproblematic either. Typically, the longer the hair, the easier it was for a monster to grab, which could get you killed in a brawl. The most dangerous thing was that it could fall into your eyes, blinding you. The most common solution was either braiding, ponytails, or putting in a bun which nearly always worked, but required some time you may not have. Some demigods, such as Thalia, went the extra step, sporting buzzcuts or pixie cuts or anything too short to be harmful.

Sighing, he straightened up. He would have to talk to Piper after she got back. He glanced over to Leo, who was doing maintenance on Festus. Frank was leaning against the railing a few feet away from him, binoculars in hand, watching Hazel, Jason, and Piper scale the mountain.

"She's gonna be ok, man." Frank looked up from his binoculars, and Percy could see the stress on his face, "I know, but what if something goes wrong? What if the mist doesn't work? What if-" Percy cut him off, "If something goes wrong, there are three of them, they can watch each other's back. Have faith in Hazel's magic. Hecate must've chosen her for a reason."

Frank looked down, "I know, but I'm still nervous." Percy stepped closer, clapping Frank on the shoulder, "It's natural to be nervous, but just know that's it gonna be alright."

Frank nodded, but the situation reminded him of one he went through in Rome. When Annabeth had left for her quest, he had been out of his mind worried up until they blew open the parking lot and he saw her. Even covered in dust and cobwebs, she still looked beautiful.

Even though it was almost ninety degrees, a cold chill ran down his spine. That was the last time he had seen her, leaning over the railing of the Argo II, shock and despair written all over her features.

He was going to see her again, he had to. The fates wouldn't be cruel enough to kill her now, would they?

Would they?