"Hermes!"
Percy's outraged scream rang down the street. The named god startled and dropped the clipboard he'd been in the process of offering to a little old woman who, at a glance, appeared perfectly mortal, a stack of boxes at their side higher than either of their heads. Even as furious as Percy felt, he couldn't help but wince slightly as the clipboard and pen went tumbling to the ground. Poor Martha and George didn't deserve that. And Percy's internal warrior did not like that Hermes' instincts were to drop his only weapon when startled.
But also, Percy was really furious, so internal wince aside, he continued his strong strides forward, scowling fiercely.
"Percy!" Hermes said, giving him a cautious smile. Not his playful, impish smile nor his more innocent 'I'm pleased to see you' smile that Percy normally got. No, this smile was somewhere inbetween and, Percy was sure, completely artfully contrived. It was his 'Oops, I got caught, better start talking myself out of it' smile. Still smiling, Hermes knelt to pick up his clipboard and pen, ignoring the annoyed hissing, never taking his eyes off of Percy's forceful approach.
"Is everything okay?" the old woman asked in an old woman's wavering voice. She was watching Percy approach too with clear worry.
"It's fine," Hermes said, again offering her the clipboard, which she took in shaking hands. "That's my cousin."
"Only," the woman said, making no move to actually look at the clipboard in her hands, "He's waving a gun…"
"Is he?" Hermes asked, blinking a bit. In fact, Percy was not waving a gun. He was waving a sword in a decidedly threatening manner. "No accounting for the mist."
'Maybe you should start running,' George suggested.
'Nonsense,' said Martha. 'He should find out what he did, first, like an adult. Then he can run.'
"Hermes!" Percy shouted again, which was rather unnecessary because he'd come right up next to them by that point. Hermes responded by skipping away and hiding slightly behind the old woman. The old woman did not look appreciative of being used as a human shield and was staring at Percy with wide eyes. Percy glanced at her, huffed in annoyance, but did cap his sword.
"Yes, Cousin Percy?" Hermes asked, tactfully keeping his client between himself and Percy.
"Where are my cookies!" Percy demanded, not appearing softened in the slightest by Hermes' innocent smile.
"Cookies?" Hermes asked, and if Percy hadn't spent his youth at a camp alongside Hermes' sons, he might have believed Hermes' contrived confusion.
"My cookies. That my mom sent me. My special birthday cookies that I was looking forward to, kept in my room. At my apartment. Where several packages were just delivered."
Hermes actually had the decency to look a bit ashamed. For one moment. This was followed by contrived thoughtfulness as he said, "I do remember bringing you packages…and did you know you leave your front door unlocked? Very careless. Anyone could come in and just…take things. I locked it for you on my way out."
"My front door was unlocked," Percy hissed through clenched teeth, "Because I was in the middle of bringing in groceries. You snuck in without so much as a 'hello' let alone a 'let me help you with those'. Dumped my packages right in the middle of the doorway where I could trip over them. STOLE MY SPECIAL BIRTHDAY COOKIES MY MOM MADE ME. And then LOCKED ME OUT OF MY OWN APARTMENT!"
Hermes did wince a bit at that.
"I think," said the little old woman, who was now edging away from them, still clutching the clipboard and pen like some kind of shield, "That I will thank you for the delivery and get out of your way."
"Right," said Hermes, eyes still on Percy, as he edged sideways with the woman. "Then I just need your signature and then I'll have my clipboard back."
"Yes…" the woman answered, lifting the pen with a shaking hand, her eyes also on Percy. Percy kept his attention solely on Hermes.
"Out of idle curiosity," Hermes said, almost running into the stack of boxes as he continued to try and keep the old woman between them, "How did you find me?"
"I followed the trail of cookie crumbs," Percy answered with a bit of a growl. Which was nonsense, of course. He found him by texting Martha and just asking for the closest delivery stop they would be making in distance of his own place. Not that he was going to tell Hermes that.
Hermes actually looked at the ground, as if he expected to see said trail of crumbs, brow furrowed in confusion. For a moment, Percy's anger wavered as he had to fight the urge to snicker. But then, he just remembered the sheer disappointment of going to get a taste of his special treat from Home and finding…nothing. The old lady edged along further, using the stack of boxes as a shield to stop Hermes following. The distracted Hermes finally did notice anyway.
"Ah," he said, "I'll just take my clipboard back…" He started around the boxes to reach for it. The old lady danced away, surprisingly spry for the trembling.
"I haven't finished signing yet," she explained in her thin, wavering voice.
'Hermes!' Martha's voice suddenly cried, 'Something is wrong here!' Hermes made a more aggressive attempt to go after his clipboard, but the old woman again danced out of the way, using the boxes to her advantage. Percy watched the dance a bit bemused, trying to decide if he should step in, and if he did, which person he should be helping.
"Ma'am, give me back my clipboard!" Hermes insisted firmly.
"Oh, and what will you do if I don't?" the old woman asked, her voice suddenly sounding a lot less shaky and a lot more menacing than it did a moment before. "What will you do without your precious caduceus to help you?"
Hermes startled again and just stared. Percy had to resist the urge to slap his face into his palm. What was with his cousin and losing his caduceus?
"I'll…" Hermes eventually came out with, but stopped, still staring. Then with a growl he lunged for his clipboard. The woman skipped out of the way effortlessly, laughing, her form morphing into something scaly with sharp teeth, but Hermes was surprisingly fast too and latched onto his clipboard at last. They wrestled, and George and Martha were shouting, and the woman was laughing and…
And then she disappeared in a shower of gold, Riptide in the air where she used to stand. It was so sudden that the loss of a partner to wrestle with sent Hermes sprawling backwards, George and Martha in his hands at last, and straight into the stack of boxes. Which in turn when tumbling over, breaking the boxes open. Immediately, crabs started pouring out and scuttling down the street. They looked as small as spiders as they emerged, but there must have been some spell involved because they quickly grew to the size of cats, then dogs, growing larger by the second.
Hermes yelped when they started running over him in their escape and instinctively held George and Martha out of the way, then yelped again when he got a pinch.
"Karkinos crabs!" Hermes shouted, eyes wide, "Your domain, cousin!" Then Hermes yelped when he was pinched again. And then again. Percy watched, the sword he had used to take out whatever the old woman had turned out to be was once again sheathed. He was no longer scowling, but certainly not helping. Just watched.
"Cousin?" Hermes asked, sounding worried now, then yelped again. Down the street, the largest of the crabs was now the size of a small pony. The boxes were almost empty. Still Percy just watched. Until one of the more enterprising started up Hermes' arm, towards where Hermes held his clipboard up out of reach.
"Percy!" Hermes shouted, sounding truly desperate now as he shook his arm, the crab hanging on and somehow still scuttling upwards towards George and Martha. With a sigh, Percy closed his eyes, hands going to his shell necklace. A tidal wave washed down the street, collecting the boxes and the crabs as it went. It washed away to nothing, and then the street was empty once more. Slowly, dripping wet and smelling of brine, Hermes pulled himself up. He gave his clipboard a shake, and it morphed into his staff, George and Martha in their usual spot. They were completely dry. So was Percy, for that matter. And most of the street.
"Huh," said Hermes, once the silence had gone on a bit too long. He checked over his caduceus first, drawing Martha and George away from the staff to check them, and for the first time Percy felt a little bit bad about waiting. Hermes was just so earnest in his worry.
"George? Martha? Did the crabs get you? Did the…er…woman do anything?"
'I got a bit bruised when you dropped us,' George answered, a bit sourly. Then, his voice faint, 'I think I'd feel better after a rat.'
'We're fine,' Martha said firmly. Then, 'You are wet. Dry off if you must handle us.'
Hermes blinked. He shook himself and the water and damp dried itself away, though the briny smell remained. His uniform was a wrinkled mess, torn in half a dozen places from questing claws. It was spotted with ichor, too. Percy refused to feel guilty over that. None of the crabs that had run over him had been bigger than a mouse. He was fine.
Finally, Hermes turned to look at Percy again.
"Thanks, cousin," he said, somehow managing to look grateful and vaguely injured at the same time. As if he knew what a bedraggled figure he made at that moment and was making the most of it. Percy was not impressed, and put his hands on his hips, still scowling. Hermes sighed, and looked down.
"I…" Hermes started to say, stopped, then just repeated, "Thanks for the save."
Percy held the scowl for one moment longer, but it was really hard to maintain, especially when, contrived or not, Hermes truly did look very bedraggled. Percy wouldn't put it past Hermes to have somehow arranged all this just to get out of being in trouble, but…Percy didn't think he had. His fear for George and Martha had been genuine. Which just made Percy scowl for a different reason, because really, Hermes was the thousands year old god. So why did Percy keep needing to rescue him?
"Do you know who that was? What that was about?" Percy asked. He must have relaxed his scowl, at least a tad, because Hermes immediately looked relieved. Then thoughtful.
"Well, according to the delivery roster, her name was Lerna Cancer?" Hermes said, shaking his caduceus into a tablet this time so he could check.
"And…that didn't sound…suspicious?" Percy asked, wondering if this is what it felt like to be Annabeth.
"I've got a busy schedule," Hermes answered defensively. "And most of the names are related to old myths; it's kind of our thing. How was I to know she'd turn out to be some kind of monster?"
'I told you she smelled like a monster,' Martha put in helpfully.
'Rats…' George hissed, sounding faint. With a sigh, Hermes shook them back into snake form and actually fished some live rats out of his pocket. Percy eyes that pocket. He might have tried to pickpocket that pocket. How often did Hermes' pockets hold live rats?
"Half the people we deliver to are monsters," Hermes pointed out. "That doesn't mean they're actual…monster monsters who want to steal my caduceus."
"And what would you have done, if I hadn't been here?" Percy demanded, crossing his arms.
"Gotten it back," Hermes answered, sounding twice as defensive, crossing his own arms in return. "I'm not some stupid defenseless nothing of a god. Whatever she said, I could have taken her. Caduceus or no caduceus. No one touches my staff."
Only he didn't look entirely like he was speaking to Percy anymore. The crossed arms had turned into more of a hug, and he was glaring at the ground instead, his last sentence mumbled so low it was barely audible. All at once, anger over the cookie incident aside, Percy actually felt a bit bad for his cousin. Hermes wasn't a weak god, not by a long shot. But he also wasn't one of the flashy gods. His powers all lay in subtleties and his influence was often invisible and unnoticed. And to most people, he was reduced in their eyes to the one job he was most visible in: messenger. Percy had even heard a few whispers from those who didn't know Hermes, that he was just a glorified mailman, and the only reason he was held so high was because of who his father was. Which was stupid. Zeus fathered a lot of children, including a lot of deities. And they weren't on the Olympian council.
Percy maaay have set a few people straight over Hermes over the years. Hermes had his faults, he was by no means perfect, but being weak wasn't one of them. So, Percy corrected people. But suddenly it looked like the one he really needed to set straight was Hermes. Which was just stupid. Especially when Percy was still angry with him.
"Of course you could," Percy muttered, but Hermes only winced, and maybe that had come off a bit sarcastic. Percy tried again, more sincerely. "I can see how careful you are with George and Martha. You wouldn't have let her take them."
"Sure," Hermes said, still to the ground. "Third time's the charm, right? Bound to hold onto them this time." Percy frowned, then looked at Hermes suspiciously.
"Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you so I stop being mad?"
Hermes glanced at him, then back at the ground. "Is it working?" he asked.
"Well…letting the crabs pinch you was a bit much," Percy pointed out. "And what is with the pity party, oh woe is me, Hermes had trouble fighting off an old woman…"
"I think your 'making Hermes feel better' needs some work…" Hermes suggested, then looked up at him through ridiculously wide eyes, shimmering with unfallen tears. Percy rolled his eyes.
"I'm still upset about my cookies," he pointed out. "Maybe you should suffer. A bit."
"I could put off healing the pinches?" Hermes offered, and the scowl that had slowly relaxed off of Percy's face returned.
"You are not using self-harm as a way to make things up to me," he ordered. Hermes looked so surprised and confused, it was actually a bit worrisome.
"I…didn't think of it that way?" Hermes said, and then, voice sounding so pitifully small this had to be another attempt to solicit forgiveness, he asked, "What can I do, then?"
Contrived or not, Percy felt the anger draining away, leaving behind the disappointed ache for home that he had felt when he first discovered the loss. "Just…why did you take my special cookies?"
For a moment, Hermes looked like he might try to shift attention again, to deny the theft. Percy wasn't sure what he would do, if he did. Hermes was his cousin, his friend, but…Percy did not allow friends or family to treat him like that. Maybe Hermes was able to read something in Percy's face, but when he finally answered, it wasn't a denial.
"I…I guess I was hungry."
"So you did eat them?" Percy asked. Up to that point, a part of him still expected Hermes to reveal the whole thing was a hoax, that yes, he had taken the cookies, but they were still whole and uneaten. It was the sort of thing Hermes would do. But no cookies were forthcoming. "Not just…borrowed, but…they're gone?"
Slowly, looking rather miserable, Hermes nodded his head in admission.
"And you couldn't have taken…any other food in the house?" Percy asked. "Couldn't you tell they were special to me?" He allowed his genuine hurt to enter his words, and Hermes winced.
"I knew," he admitted in a small voice. "It's what drew me. I shouldn't have come by when I was hungry."
At that admission, suddenly, Percy found he'd had enough. Hermes, his cousin, his friend, had come into his home and stolen his very special birthday cookies. On purpose. Knowing they were special. With the anger gone, all that was left was the hurt. Very abruptly, Percy turned around and strode down the street, back the way he had come.
"Percy? Cousin?!" Hermes called after him. Percy didn't turn around. Hermes didn't follow. Percy didn't want him to follow, but…Hermes didn't follow.
Home, after all that was…empty. It was Percy's first birthday away from his mom. Having an August birthday usually guaranteed he'd be at home, even with all the boarding schools he had attended. Only now he was an adult. And he liked being an adult. Liked having his own home. Liked that he was building a real life for himself, separate from his childhood, separate from his status as a half-blood. And it's not like he was celebrating his party completely alone. Annabeth would be there, and half a dozen friends, not even all of them half-bloods. There was to be a regular party. Hermes had been invited, too, and had acted interested, like he might actually set aside time in his busy schedule to attend, because Percy was important to him.
And then Hermes stole his cookies. That Percy's mom, who could not come, had made. Hermes had stolen a lot of things from Percy over the years but never anything special; never anything important. And generally, he gave back whatever he took, or replaced it tenfold.
Whatever. It was Percy's birthday. He was going to have fun, and he didn't care if his ridiculous cousin even came to his party. In fact, he hoped he didn't. Stupid cousin who couldn't properly look after himself, who acted all pathetic and sad. It wasn't Percy's problem. So there.
Of course, by the time of the party, Percy actually was mostly over it. It really wasn't in him to hold onto a grudge. Annabeth always told him he'd make a horrible villain because he'd never have the patience to fulfil a revenge plot. And they were just cookies. Okay, they were really good cookies that meant Mom and Home and all the things he missed, but…it was party time. There'd be cake and ice cream and his friends and…with a sigh, Percy pulled out his phone as his friends started arriving and Hermes was not among them.
-You still comng to my party orwhat
There was a suspiciously short pause before he got an answer.
-You still want me to?
-You said youd make it
…
…
-Finishing something. brt
-Finishing wat
But there was no instant reply this time, and with a scowl, Percy turned off his phone, which was probably a good idea anyway because the last thing the party needed was to be crashed by monsters. His house was supposed to be warded to stop that, by Aunt Hestia, but considering how many half-bloods were currently in his house, he didn't fully trust that. Adding phones into the mix was asking for trouble. So he tossed his phone in his bedroom, returned to the party and determinedly went to enjoy himself with his friends. He might not have been doing a very good job. Annabeth came over and poked him.
"What's got you doing your 'everything is fine' smile? I thought you were supposed to be happy, birthday boy."
"That's right," Travis agreed, wandering over. Unless it was Connor. It had actually gotten harder to tell the older they got. They were too close in height, now, and, probably on purpose just to screw with everyone, had adopted very similar hair styles. "So what's got you sulking now?"
"Nothing," Percy insisted. "I am having fun. Crank up the music! Bring out the beer!"
"Is it girl troubles?" asked Lord Apollo, who hadn't actually been invited but had shown up exactly on time. No one else had shown up exactly on time. It was weird. Well, technically he had been invited; Percy had posted a general invite to all his closest godly relations. He just hadn't thought any of them would actually come. Though he was still hoping about his dad.
"No, it is not girl troubles," Annabeth growled at the god in a way that would have gotten Percy a lecture if their positions had been reversed about respecting the smite-happy gods. Percy refrained from the lecture because he was a good boyfriend. He refrained so hard that Annabeth poked him again. Then a second time because he still wasn't talking.
"I had a fight with one of my cousins earlier," Percy finally admitted.
"You had a fight with dad?" Connor asked (unless it was Travis), with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you guys were tight."
"All I said was cousin," Percy protested, "I have a million cousins. Why would you jump to Hermes?"
"He didn't deny," Annabeth said. "It's definitely Hermes."
"Ah," said Lord Apollo, looking annoyingly smug and knowing. It didn't help that, unlike Hermes, Apollo's adopted form had Percy looking up instead of down. When Percy didn't respond to his knowing 'ah', Apollo helpfully decided to keep talking anyway. "Stole something important from you, did he?"
"What? No! Yes, sort of. I mean, he steals stuff all the time. That's just who he is."
"Yes," Apollo agreed. "I used to get so angry with him before I figured that out. Almost threw him in Tartarus when he was a baby. Still, not like I would want my brother to starve."
"Exactly," Percy said, but frowned, because he suddenly had a weird feeling their conversations were slightly out of sync, like they weren't quite talking about the same thing.
"I'm sure he'll make it up to you, whatever it was," Apollo went on loftily. "Or if not, you will find it in the Nest."
"Unlikely," Percy said with a slightly bitter scowl. "Anyway, I'm not in the mood to go all the way to the camp over it."
"Camp?" Apollo asked, looking confused. But quickly, the expression cleared. "Oh yes, of course. We arranged an altar there, too, separate from the rest after the incident with one of Hephaestus's automatons. No, cousin, I mean the main Nest, found at the front of Hermes' temple."
"There's more?" Percy asked, then sighed and said, "Of course there's more. Hermes just can't seem to help himself, can he. Well, I'm not going all the way to New York every time something goes missing either."
"All his temples have a Nest and they are all connected," Apollo explained, sounding oddly delighted to share knowledge. "You see, they use the same folded space as how his chariot…"
"Ah, excuse me, Lord Apollo, someone at the door," Percy interrupted quickly. Sometimes, Apollo was just too keen to play teacher. Also, there actually was someone at the door. Several someones.
"Mom?!" Percy exclaimed. Then, "Estelle! Paul!" They were all there, in his doorway, as if it were as simple as driving down the street to visit. "I thought you couldn't make it! Great surprise!"
"Yes, but not ours," his mom agreed. She was still smiling, but her smile was just the slightest bit strained. It reminded Percy too much of their old life, when she smiled for him no matter what was wrong, and Percy frowned.
"Mom…what…?"
"I brought you more cookies, too!" his mom said brightly, holding up a plate of cookies that looked suspiciously fresh, as if they'd just come out of the oven. "Your, er, cousin was very insistent."
And behind his family, hovering, looking oddly nervous, was Hermes.
"Hermes…did you steal my family?!" Percy shouted.
"Surprise?" Hermes said, sounding somehow hopeful and vulnerable all at once. "I mean, it was their choice, really, all I said was I needed cookies and then your mom wanted to know why and I said I thought maybe you were homesick and just really missed the cookies and she said…"
"Hermes," his mom interjected, gently and firmly, "You're rambling, sweetheart." It was so very much exactly how his mom used to interrupt Percy's ADHD driven tangents when he was little that it was a bit disconcerting.
"Happy Birthday!" Estelle exclaimed, and then his arms were full of sister, and there were hugs and introductions and this was awesome and perfect and Percy was totally ready to completely forgive Hermes and drop the whole thing.
His mom thought otherwise and shoved the two of them into Percy's bedroom to 'talk it out'.
"It's fine," Percy tried to say. "He messed up but he fixed it…unless…did he really steal you? Like, force you to come?"
"He showed up and insisted he absolutely had to have my cookies," his mom answered, not sounding upset, but maybe a little nonplussed. "Without telling me who he was or who they were for or why. Luckily, he is so much like you I kind of…guessed. The talking snakes helped, too. And once I got him to explain, and he mentioned how he could definitely get whatever cookies I made directly to you, still hot from the oven, well…an idea was formed."
And his mom smiled, hugged him again, then shoved him in his room to talk things out with his cousin like adults.
"I really am sorry," Hermes led with, sounding contrite and genuine. Really genuine; Percy felt like he'd gotten to know him well enough to know the difference. It didn't necessarily mean he wasn't trying to manipulate Percy into forgiving him…but that if he was, he was using his genuine remorse to generate the right tone. Which…wasn't that what everyone did? If the feelings were real, then did it matter how golden-tongued Hermes could be when trying to get out of things?
And he brought Percy his family. And more cookies. Fresh from the oven cookies. In the end, all was easy to forgive. But Percy's mom was also right. They did need to talk.
"Of course I forgive you," Percy said, and Hermes actually slumped a bit in relief, only to go rigid again when Percy continued. "But I still don't understand why. If you knew they were special…if you knew it would hurt me…why take them? Why eat them?"
"I was hungry," Hermes said again, voice small, and he pulled at his own shirt nervously, which was not at all like Hermes. The shirt in question was not his delivery shirt. He'd gone to the trouble of fixing himself up for the party. His hair fell in a neat halo of dark curls, his clothes were fresh and youthful. He didn't seem to have his caduceus on him at first glance, but there was a bulge in his pocket that was probably them, in phone form. If so, the snakes were completely silent, giving them their moment.
"I had just gone shopping," Percy pointed out. "And if you'd asked, I'd have made something for you. You know how I think you don't eat enough; I'd never have turned you down. I'd probably have offered you a cookie if you'd asked. One. Maybe."
"It…isn't that kind of hunger," Hermes admitted. And then, with a bit of a huff, "And what is it with everyone thinking I need feeding up? Apollo thinks he's so clever, leaving little snacks around for me to 'steal'."
"What do you mean, it's not that kind of hunger," Percy asked. Because he really, really wanted to understand what could drive his friend to steal something so important.
"I am the god of thieves," Hermes answered, tone utterly sincere and serious. "That isn't just a title. I need theft the same way mortals need…need carbs. And being around thieves helps but…if I don't steal, I start to get…hungry. Ares once dared me to go a whole month without taking anything and I…I didn't last a week before I caved. And once Dad got angry over something I took and insisted I stop and…I got sick. Really sick. I think that's what finally made my family understand."
"So you have to steal?" Percy asked, frowning a bit, not because he didn't believe him but because he did. Hermes sounded so genuine. And Percy had some experience with gods having very specific needs. He'd seen how his dad got when he felt the need to hold off a storm; it was like a physical weight settled over Poseidon until he was able to release it. In some ways, Percy thought the ocean might be a heavier burden than the one Atlas carried. All gods had their own burdens. And it made sense, but…
"Ok, I get that, but…why steal something you know is special to me? Why not just grab…anything else?"
"I waited too long," Hermes explained. "I was so busy and…I try to only take stuff from people who know about the Nest. I don't have to keep things, you see, just take them. Kind of like forming a self-sacrifice to my own temple. So I deposit them in my temple…in a spot where you all can steal it back. Giving me yet another boost. It works, most of the time, but…the longer I wait, well…I guess you could say the more calories I need. And to get the most calories, I have to take something important to you. The more important, the more special the thing is that I take, the better. Those cookies were irresistible."
"Ok…" Percy agreed, slowly, "But then…why eat them. Why not put them at your temple so I could steal them back?"
Hermes winced, but nonetheless offered what he clearly already knew was going to be a less than satisfactory answer. "Habit, I guess. I almost never deposit actual food at the temple; I eat it. Food doesn't last well and usually ends up wasted, or eaten by birds, or whatever. And…I'm pretty sure some of my siblings leave out food for me to take on purpose. I guess I didn't really think about it. Stupid, I know. I should have. I was hungry, maybe in more ways than one and…well…those cookies were really good."
"You literally have ambrosia and nectar for food," Percy pointed out in disbelief.
"What can I say? Your mom's cooking is better than the food of the gods," Hermes claimed. Percy hit him with a pillow.
Some time later, Annabeth finally stuck her head in through the doorway.
"You are missing your own party, seaweed brain," she called. Then, "Did you murder a bird?" There might have been an excess of feathers now covering Percy's bedroom.
"We were talking things out like adults," Percy explained with great dignity. And then, "And I'll be out in a sec." Annabeth rolled her eyes, but did look genuinely relieved at their truce as she shut the door. Once alone again, Percy and Hermes just looked at each other for a long moment, before slowly putting down the remains of their pillows.
"Sooo…forgive me?" Hermes asked. He had his usual grin, and his tone was careless, but he was still holding himself just a bit too rigidly for his stance to be completely natural.
"Yes, cousin, I forgive you. Now come on; it's my birthday party and I'm going to have fun."
And that was exactly what he did.
Note: I was very tempted to end the chapter with Percy leaving Hermes in the street and Hermes not following...but I did promise no cliffhangers and so you get the whole story at once. For the record, Poseidon does show up later. Also, Hermes does spend time with his own sons at the party. This story just isn't about those relationships, so I've sidelined them.
Note 2: I am being deliberately vague in the timeline here. As I might have previously stated, I haven't read the later books, though I've done just enough research to have some idea. Considering Apollo showed up at the party and Estelle exists I am inclined to think it takes place somewhat in the future but how far? I don't know. You can either try to slot all these chapters somewhere into the series to date or you can assume this is an alternate universe and just accept that Percy is now an adult and the universe no longer has it out for him and all is well. Up to you.