Percy was starting to get frustrated. He'd noticed how everyone had treated him differently since he and his cabinmates had left the camp boundaries to rescue Roxanne—before the Hermes Cabin Upgrade—but he'd expected it to die down. It… hadn't. He wasn't as excluded as he remembered being the first time, but several people definitely avoided him. He didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did. Was he that scary? Or was it a certain prophecy that everyone seemed to know about but no one seemed to know the specifics of looming on the horizon, much like the first time.

The latter would be particularly annoying seeing as said prophecy didn't even apply anymore. But tell them that. Without them jumping to really awful conclusions even he didn't want to touch. He was apparently pushing those limits already.

He hated how much everything had changed in such a short amount of time. Suddenly, the other demigods seemed to expect so much of him and didn't seem to know what to make of that. The worst were the ones who tip-toed around him, as if expecting him to explode at any second, up to and including the couple of new campers that had come in the last month or so (some of whom had been thankfully claimed already). Apparently, just the idea that his father was Zeus freaked them out, even if most people didn't really believe it. Which… okay, he could understand, but that didn't stop it from being annoying (and frustrating) beyond all reason.

It didn't help that, most people had put money down on him having at least three gods in his semi-recent ancestry: his parent, and two legacies. That was… fine. Or he'd thought it would be initially. Now… he wasn't so sure. And he had the feeling he couldn't keep his facades up for much longer. He'd been hoping to keep it up until next year, when he could reveal his parentage if he needed to, but that was looking less and less plausible.

He really hoped he didn't need to out his parentage this year. It would reinforce everyone's belief about him, even if his father wasn't Zeus. But he didn't think he'd be that lucky. He'd already resigned himself to being claimed by camp next year. He was betting on someone managing to steal Zeus' and Hades' emblems of power, even if he desperately hoped it didn't happen. He'd count it a win if it wasn't Luke though. Well, unless it happened to be someone worse, like Annabeth, but he didn't see that happening.

(He wasn't entirely sure how he would react if something like that did happen… but it probably wouldn't be pretty for anyone.)

Percy felt awful thinking that way, but what else could he do? He knew someone else could steal the godly symbols, but he only recognized a couple of those who had joined Kronos the first time: Luke and some of the other kids in the Hermes cabin, Selina (although she'd been swayed more by Luke than anything else, he thought), one older kid from the Apollo cabin he was sure he'd seen on the Princess Andromeda during the Sea of Monsters debacle, along with kids from Hephaestus, Demeter, and Ares (no one from Athena though, interesting now that he thought about it). He knew others had joined up, but didn't know who without tapping into their emotions—something he refused to do. And even if he did know who, he didn't actually know those kids. Likely hadn't even interacted with them the first time. And now, with everyone walking on eggshells, they didn't seem to want to know him anymore. Of course. He still tried to be friendly, but he'd really freaked some of the kids out.

Which was fair. He'd kind of freaked himself out.

He groaned every time he realized just how badly he'd made a mess of everything. The first time this go-around had been a couple of days after speaking with Luke and Hestia. When he'd first come back, he'd settled into his demigod life, reveling in it and the freedom it brought. He'd been lazy, thinking he had time. To be fair to himself, he'd pushed for reform for the Hermes cabin, and he wanted unity in the camp, but… what else had he done? He knew Kronos was coming and here he was, doing more or less nothing except focusing on Luke. Ugh. Had the whole godly attitude of self-assured arrogance started to brush off onto him? After only 300 years? The thought disgusted him.

It didn't help that Luke was avoiding Percy, too. Which he understood, the (physically) older boy needed space and time to think, but it was still disheartening.

Basically, the entire situation was grating on Percy's last nerve. The current attitude in the camp wasn't what he wanted. He wanted lightheartedness and fun and… at least some preparation for the wars to come. So he tried to push through the current camp attitude, forcing himself to remain outgoing and inclusive… but he didn't think he was getting very far. Not that he'd give up but… he hadn't realized how much his friends' support had helped him through stints like this the first time around.

He eventually concluded that he wanted to continue the prank (he and the others had put too much effort into it to just quit now), but he didn't want to put as much time into it anymore. He needed to make sure the camp was ready to fight in—and survive—the upcoming Titanomachy. That was the most important thing. But he still thought his idea could help unify the camp. So, no, he wasn't giving the prank up, but while that might help the rest of camp (or so he hoped); it probably wouldn't help now as much as it had before. Not with all the attention and expectation.

He wished he had someone to go to about everything. Or at least someone who would give him a good fight. After all his friends had passed on in his last life, he'd tended to go to one of his half-siblings to fight or speak to. Kymopolia was good for a fight. Rhode was good for a talk. Triton… was pretty decent for both, depending on the time of year and his mood. Percy had also gone to Aunt Hestia, but… he doubted she'd have many words for him at the moment except 'be careful'. He knew that already.

What he really wanted was something he'd truly wanted for centuries: his old friends. And now they were right there… except they weren't. When Annabeth wasn't avoiding him like Luke was, she would be tense and wary (what happened to her being glad he'd come there?). So that was out, as much as that hurt to admit. He'd sought out Clarisse for a couple of fights, but while she was the daughter of Ares, she was also thirteen, and nowhere near as good as she got in the future, not to mention far more annoying than he remembered with her inferiority complex in full swing. It was also a little weird to see her with long hair again. It really didn't suit her in his humble opinion. Not that he told her that.

Nico wasn't there, wouldn't be for a while. Will wasn't there, wouldn't be for at least a year. Beckendorf was… well, he had baggage attached to him, as did Selina. He couldn't go to any of the other Seven as they weren't there and wouldn't be for far too long (he may have to do something about that, though, at least in the case of Leo and Piper)… and as much as he loved his mom, she really just didn't get some things. She couldn't. He couldn't talk to his dad for many reasons, his brother hated him, and his other godly siblings didn't care or were outright evil…

Which left one person. He almost kicked himself for not seeking them out already. Because he should have. Long ago.

Unfortunately, said friend was very difficult to track down within camp borders. He didn't remember it being so difficult, to be honest. But then again, most nature spirits avoided the campers if they could, and they had experience outrunning gods. Demigods would be nothing.

Thankfully, he had his tie to camp, though. He could sense where most of the nature spirits were by now (if weakly), so he'd just have to set up a situation that would bring him close to them.

So, almost a week after he spoke with Luke, around the end of July, he took a sword (imbalanced, but something he could still work with) and a small, round shield (he would always be Greek at heart) and trudged into the forest. Alone. He wanted his friends, and had been determined to meet every one of them that he possibly could at this point in time anyway, so why not?

Besides, the monsters in the forest couldn't do much to really hurt him, right?

Right?

xXx

I am such an idiot, he thought to himself half-an-hour later as he crashed through the woods, desperately trying to outrun a horde of myrmakes. Some super-powerful demigod I am! Overcome by a bunch of ants. Albeit giant, terrifying ants, but still.

Although, to be fair, he could probably take them, it would just require more power than he really wanted to use at the moment. He'd only been trying to get a couple of myrmake guards to chase him or something, but the tiny tremor he'd sent into the nest had set what seemed like the entire colony on him. One or two he could handle, no problem. Hades, up to twenty he could probably take, though he'd have to be careful. But… He glanced behind him for just a moment. Yeah, that was way more than twenty. He was hoping he'd been sensing wrong, but nope. And using too much power too fast could make him ascend.

So it looked like he was stuck with taking out a couple at a time until he either outran the rest or they decided to stop chasing him. His best option was probably water spears as he could control them even as he focused on running for his life… again. He just had to make sure he used enough power and force to drill through each rock-hard exoskeleton. Oh, and aim. Which had been a lot easier as an actual god. He almost missed his godly powers just then. Almost.

He certainly missed his older, far better developed body as a god or even just an older demigod. His lungs hurt, he had a stitch in each side, and he knew he was bleeding (he could feel it and sense it, yay) from both running through a forest and having to pause and fight a giant ant every now and then. Worse yet, he'd kind of panicked when the entire pankataratos colony had come streaming out after him (he blamed his eleven-year-old mind) and he'd dashed in the direction he'd planned on beforehand…

Right towards where he could sense a gathering of nature spirits and other more benign creatures.

Yeah. No. He needed to find a place to make a stand, because he refused to put nymphs and satyrs in danger. Well, more danger. And using too much power and ascending that way would be too embarrassing. Triton would never let him live it down. He doubted his father would too. Or Apollo. Or Artemis. She always wanted to come off as the older, more responsible twin, but she had a mischievous streak far wider than Apollo's whenever she indulged, and it could get mean.

And that was if he ascended at all and didn't end up in the Fields of Asphodel.

No, focus.

Wrenching his mind away from those thoughts, he thought about his current predicament. Right. Well , he'd have to get to a better vantage point and… there were a lot of trees around. But he needed a particularly large one. One he could keep climbing and a horde of giant ants wouldn't knock over.

It took him another fifteen or twenty seconds of outright sprinting before he spotted one that would work. The lowest branch would be way above a normal eleven-year-old's head, but he was a demigod. Moreover, he used to be a god of liquids. Using some of the water he'd taken from nearby puddles and streams as he'd run, he brought some forward and used it as a platform to leap onto and off of. In one smooth motion, he'd sheathed his sword and used all the power he dared to reach the branch. His hands wrapped around it, scraping his palms on the bark, but he refused to let go. The wood bent as he swung himself up and onto it, taking only a moment to breathe. Below him, the myrmakes caught up, leaping at him.

How did they even know where he was? Weren't they supposed to have awful eyesight? Or was that just normal ants? He didn't care. Dragging his water up with him, he plowed on, reaching up for the next branch and lifting himself onto it. The ants started climbing the tree.

But his plan was working. He grinned and settled himself on the higher branch, drawing his sword again.

"I never met any of you in Tartarus," he yelled down to them. "Hope you like it there."

Now that he had a vantage point, he could focus more on aiming and began to take out the myrmekes a couple at a time, but much faster than before. This, naturally, seemed to make them angrier and they swarmed into a pile, crawling over each other to get to him.

Unfortunately, it was working. He frowned as the pile below grew larger, even with disappearing insects. No, seriously, would he have to take out the entire colony like this?

Playing it safe, he stood and hefted himself on an even higher branch.

"Just go away. It'll be better for all of us," he called down, taking at least five out at once. Unsurprisingly, they didn't listen. He grit his teeth. He was beginning to feel that ache in his gut warning him that he was getting close to using too much divine power. He could hold out for a while longer, but he had no idea if it would be enough.

He sighed. Story of his life. He'd just have to make it enough.

Times like this he really wished he could shoot a bow and arrow. Something he couldn't even do as a god.

He suspected Apollo but had never been able to confirm it.

Focus, he told himself, shooting shards of ice at the myrmeke eyes he could see.

"Behind you!" someone yelled. Without thinking, Percy ducked, swinging down and around the branch almost on instinct. Above him, a myrmeke that had climbed up the opposite side of the tree from the angle of their body, and had made a grab for him with their mandibles. Or whatever those were. Pinchers? Death traps? Yeah, that sounded about right.

And he'd been too focused on the others below him to sense it. Which scared him more than he wanted to admit. Almost without a thought, he reached out and grabbed the liquid he could feel inside the ant's giant body and squeezed.

The ant exploded.

Percy's gut suddenly hurt a lot more. That was why he stuck to ice and water—they just didn't take as much of a toll on him.

Ignoring that for now, he pulled himself back up on the tree branch before shooting his water down at the swarming myrmekes below. And around the back of the tree.

He glanced around for whoever had warned him, but saw no one and figured it had been a tree nymph. He'd thank them later… when he got out of this.

Because he would get out of it.

He didn't know how many more of the monsters he killed over the next minute or so, but a fairly large amount of sulfur dust had piled around the tree and on top of the swarm of ants there.

Then, several loud shrieks and battle cries almost startled him into falling off of the tree branch. Screeching notes of music sounded throughout the forest, making Percy slap his hands over his ears, and just in time too. Below him, several of the myrmekes literally exploded into dust. Even more seemed to get caught in the vines suddenly growing from the forest floor. Trees reached down and grabbed several, throwing them away over the canopy and dozens of Satyrs came streaming through the trees, charging for anything still alive down below.

Percy, who had several spikes of water and ice floating around him just watched, eyes wide. He'd known Satyrs could be powerful, especially when working together, but he'd assumed their boost in power had been from Pan's death (was that something he could look into… later). Well. He could admit when he was wrong.

Once the forest below was clear of any monsters, nymphs began to climb out of the trees that had grabbed the ants and the satyrs broke into cheers. Percy let out a sigh of relief and let his control on the water go. His gut really hurt. Not as badly as that night he'd kept Roxanne alive, but still. Slumping down on his branch, he leaned his head back against the tree and took a moment to catch his breath.

"Hey! You! Up there!"

A smile broke across Percy's face and he shook his head. That was undoubtedly Coach Hedge.

Letting his tiredness show as he leaned over, he waved. "Hi."

"What the…" the satyr paused and took a breath. "What did you do, kid? Myrmekes don't normally chase people like that!"

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. "Um… I may have… accidentally collapsed some of their tunnels? I don't know. I was upset and… kind of wanted a fight." True. "I saw some of them in a nest and there was an… um… earthquake. Not a bad one, but—"

"That was you?" one of the other satyrs Percy didn't know asked, incredulous.

The time-traveler felt his cheeks darken. "You… um… felt that?"

"You're that kid that's trying to tick off every god in existence by claiming to be their child," yet another, older one huffed.

Percy held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not claiming anything. Just putting forth evidence for people to come to their own conclusions.

"As for the… myrmakes?" Several satyrs nodded. "I didn't want to lead them to you all, so I decided to make a stand here." He paused. "Thank you… for coming." He said that as sincerely as he could, because he meant it.

"Only an idiot would provoke a myrmeke nest!" Coach Hedge yelled.

Percy snorted. "Oh, believe me, I was calling myself every name under the sun for that stupidity, and it won't happen again." Slowly, he turned and began to climb down the tree, bracing himself for the inevitable pain of moving. And it hit, making him wince a little.

Stupid eleven-year-old brain. And body.

"Fool demigods," he heard one of the satyrs mutter to a nymph, who nodded.

"I mean," he said as he dropped down onto the lowest branch and then to the ground, "it's not like I was trying to control the earth or anything." Because this was just the perfect opportunity to keep going with the prank. "It just… happened." Not entirely true, but hey.

Several groans sounded from around him. He had to withhold a grin as he plopped on the ground and leaned against the trunk of the tree again.

"And wasn't that water that you were just manipulating?" a nymph asked this time. She stood with her arms folded and flowers in her long, blond hair, but despite that, she looked more or less done with everything.

Percy just shrugged.

"You're a menace," Coach Hedge said, glare fierce. It kind of hurt to not see the familiar warmth in it that Percy was used to (and he looked younger too, fewer gray hairs), but the time-traveler remembered the satyr well enough to know he wasn't really angry, just frustrated. Maybe a little annoyed. So Percy allowed his grin to show.

"Name a demigod that isn't."

Judging by the angry grumbling, he couldn't. No one else spoke up either.

"Get back to camp," Hedge finally said.

"Sure," Percy replied easily. "Once I catch my breath. I used a lot of energy fighting off those things. If you guys hadn't come…" he faded off, still grinning, but it wasn't empty, and the satyrs should know that, with their own empath abilities and everything. That was when he caught a glimpse of familiar brown, curly hair and equally brown eyes. He would have fit right in with the rest of the satyrs if Percy didn't know him so well.

Grover.

Trying not to stare too much, he turned his eyes back to Coach Hedge, whose expression did soften. A little. Percy would take it.

"Thank you," he said, then once again searched the eyes of every satyr and nymph in the area. He knew they could definitely tell he was serious.

"You're welcome, kid," Coach said, softer still. Of course, that didn't mean his voice was soft by any means. It was still Coach Hedge. "We are demigod guardians after all."

"You really do need to get out of the forest, though," another, older satyr said.

Percy nodded. "I'm all for that except… like I said, I'm kind of not a hundred percent sure I'll get back on my own." That was completely untrue. He could make it back. He could. No matter how shaky he felt. Still, this was his chance. "Hey you, there," he pointed to Grover, "sorry to ask this, but would you mind helping me back to camp?"

Everyone turned to Grover, who sputtered, eyes wide. "M-m-me?" Percy nodded. Grover rubbed the back of his head. "Um… sure. I guess."

"Thanks!" Percy beamed.

Many of the other nature spirits sighed and shook their heads as Grover passed them. Percy frowned. Did he really have that bad of a reputation right now? Well, that was something the time-traveler could certainly help with.

"Just get him there safely," one of the older satyrs snapped, a little rudely.

Percy frowned harder, but Grover just nodded and looked down. "Right. Of course."

Before Percy could figure out what to say to make his once (and hopefully future) friend feel better, the younger satyr offered a hand and helped him to his feet. He may or may not have swayed more than he'd thought.

Grover threw one of Percy's arms around his slightly taller shoulders and they began making their way back towards camp. No, really, Percy didn't need that level of help… probably. Hopefully.

"I appreciate everything you've done," Percy said over his shoulder. "Thanks again for saving my life."

"Don't put it in danger in the first place," Coach Hedge yelled after him. Could Percy help it if his grin widened?

For the next several minutes, Grover supported Percy through the woods, catching him whenever he pretended to stumble (and whenever he really did stumble, because that happened more than he wanted to admit).

"Sorry to single you out," Percy finally said. "You looked like you wanted to be there about as much as I did, though."

Grover blinked, surprised. "Oh, yeah. Um… thanks."

"No prob. I'm Percy Jackson, by the way."

"Grover," the satyr reintroduced himself. "Grover Underwood."

Percy held out his other hand, which Grover took, albeit a little awkwardly from the angle. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Grover returned a smile. "You taking on all of those myrmekes was something to see. Did you really collapse their tunnels?"

"I didn't mean to," Percy muttered. The satyr snorted.

The conversation dragged and Percy felt himself growing more frustrated that he didn't know what to say to his oldest friend.

Finally, he just settled on: "So, are you a protector too? Is that a satyr thing?"

To his chagrin, Grover flinched. However, he almost immediately brightened. "Yeah. Was actually scheduled to head out again this year."

"Oh?" Percy considered his next words carefully. "Not your first time, then?" he asked, knowing he could be treading on shaky ground, but wanting to build a rapport.

The satyr slumped, which threw off Percy's own center of gravity and made them both stumble.

"Sorry," Grover muttered, glancing at the demigod. Then he sighed. "No, it's not my first time."

Knowing his emotions could be felt, Percy tried to bring up memories that sparked puzzlement and concern. Not difficult with his life and memories. "You're not that much older than me, though… right?"

Another sigh. "Satyrs age twice as slow as mortals. I'm 27."

"Oh," Percy said, nodding. "I'm guessing you had a bad experience last time?"

Grover shrugged (which almost made them go stumbling again), "You could say that."

"I'm sorry," Percy whispered, entirely honest. "But I'm sure you'll be great this time. You seem like a pretty cool guy. With how much you wanted to leave that gathering back there."

The look Grover shot him showed plain confusion.

"What? You did!" He smirked. "Admit it, you wanted to get out of there."

"Baa-ah-ah," the satyr burst out laughing, then cleared his throat. "What? No! Of course I wanted to be at the council meeting."

Percy raised an eyebrow pointedly, but didn't call him on it otherwise. "Sure, sure.

"Soooo… I gotta say, I was impressed by the showing you all put on back there. Some of the people at camp don't seem to think satyrs and nymphs are all that strong."

"Baa-ah," Grover said, though this time it had no laughter in it. "Satyrs are great fighters! We used to be considered the fiercest of all non-human-mortals!"

"So I guess you've been practicing to get that strong for your next assignment."

Grover shifted uncomfortably. Something Percy could definitely feel. He really wished he could walk back on his own, but he could see he'd overestimated his remaining stamina earlier. Good thing he had Grover to lean on. Even if the guy moved his shoulders way too much.

"Well… I have, recently. I just… I thought I wouldn't get another chance after my last failure and got kind of depressed. I really haven't practiced my pipes as much as I should."

"Oh." Percy… had never known that about Grover. He'd grown into his 'Lord of the Wild' title so well… that was the satyr he remembered. "Well, why don't you ask some of the Apollo kids for help with your music?"

"What?" Grover asked, surprised. "Why would they help me?"

"Well, you're going to go out and protect one of their brothers, sisters, or cousins. Why wouldn't they help you? You just need to practice and have a bit more faith in yourself. Right?"

But the half-goat didn't look so sure. "I suppose."

"Well, I know I'd appreciate it if you were trying to get me to camp safely. And you need to be able to protect yourself, too."

"I can!" Grover insisted.

"Great!" Percy grinned at him. "You seem like a hard-working kind of guy."

The satyr harrumphed in annoyance, but the demigod couldn't help but smile at his friend.

"You know," Grover said as he helped Percy up a hill, "satyrs are empaths."

"You can," Percy grunted (he really had gone all out, hadn't he), "sense emotions, right?"

"Yeah. And you… seem like you know me. There's a familiarity to your feelings towards me—fondness, not as much surprise as I would have thought… why is that?"

Percy didn't answer for a couple of minutes as he thought back on his friend—the friend this Grover would probably grow to be like, but would never truly become—and smiled sadly. "You remind me of someone I used to know. One of my best friends. Most reliable guy I've ever met."

"Y-you think I'm reliable?"

Percy shrugged. "If you're anything like he was."

A pause. "Was?"

"Yeah," Percy whispered. "He's been… gone for a while now. I miss him."

It was Grover's turn to apologize. "I'm sorry."

The demigod shook his head. "It… Well, it isn't okay, but it is something I'll have to learn to deal with. Demigod, and all that."

Another stumbling wince as they came into the clearing housing the demigod cabins. "Yeah."

"In any case, thanks for your help, Grover. I can—"

"Nope."

Percy blinked. He hadn't expected something that firm from Grover this soon. "What?"

"I know your type. You're going to the Apollo cabin right now. And I'm going to take you there."

Percy spluttered. "I'm fine."

"Sure," Grover said, heading straight for the blindingly gold cabin housing Apollo's children.

"Grover," Percy whined.

"Nope."

Percy huffed. "Fine," he muttered. Then he smiled. "If you're like that in the field, you'll be an excellent protector."

Grover must have sensed his sincerity because he straightened a little, and Percy grinned. "Besides, while we're there, you can set up times for them to tutor you in music."

"Baa-ah-ah," the satyr bleated, turning an incredulous—almost betrayed—look on Percy, who just grinned back.

"Mr. Hedge was right," Grover muttered, "you're a menace."

"And proud of it."

Another sigh, but it sounded fond. Percy really hoped this was a new beginning for their friendship.

xXx

AN: Lost my notes as to what that Greek word meant. It's an insult. *ahem* Yeah.

Not my favorite chapter. Not because of the content. Grover FTW! We need more satyrs imo. Love the guy. But I just... don't like the prose. Eh... it's been long enough, so you guys are getting it. Hope it's not too bad. I may post another one this week too. Dunno. Don't count on it. That this is readable at all is due to my lovely beta readers: Berix, The Shadow Slayer, Asterius Daemon, Quathis, Harlequin, Speedster, Snow, and The Chronomancer! Also, the rest of my Discord.

Discord: www. discord. gg/xDDz3gqWfy (no spaces) - It's a little dead there except for the memes and the occasional poll, but when I do original stuff, I will announce it there first. :)