Parcel stopped crying because the world was too much, and he'd just about cried himself out. There was a brief discussion going on over his head, but his attention was on the body of the snake in his lap.

He still didn't know why she was so important to him, why seeing her sleeping, so still, made him feel like there was a sharp pin stabbing into his heart. She had no obvious wounds, aside from not moving or responding. Just like the sleeping man had not moved or responded.

"Should we take them to a vet?" Connor asked, uncertain. Then, in a quiet voice, "Can you tell if she's even…I mean…I don't know what to look for in a snake to see if its…"

"Dad's companion animal and we never bothered to learn," Travis muttered. Then, with a soft laugh, "Well, except for Jenna."

"Yeah, remember when she brought her rat snake to capture the flag?"

"Lost her dessert privileges when it bit an Ares kid."

"Oh, that wasn't for the snake bite. It was for what Jenna did to the kid when he tried to slay her snake after it bit him."

In spite of everything, Travis and Connor began to laugh. Parcel was only half listening, petting Martha gently in his lap while the big people figured out what to do.

"Jenna," he murmured, voice hoarse from crying, tone thoughtful.

"I don't think I met Jenna," said Percy, smiling at their antics while gently petting George, who was still wound around his arm. Percy was a good snake protector. Parcel approved.

"Before your time," Travis answered.

"If you have an older sister who knows about snakes…" Percy began to say, but both brothers shook their heads, Travis's eyes glancing down at Parcel, then away again.

Parcel watched their discussion from the corner of his eyes. His heart felt heavy and cold.

"Jenna," he whispered, voice still strange from when he had been crying.

All three men glanced at him when he spoke, but Parcel didn't look back. He looked at Martha instead while something like a memory played in his head. He didn't remember, not really. Not who he was. Not who Jenna was. Nothing about what had happened before he woke up. But just as he understood how to eat, and how money worked, he knew to his core that Jenna wore her hair in two long braids, that she had a chipped front tooth when she smiled, that she was beautiful and perfect and could find her way anywhere. That hearing her name made him feel a seasick up and down mixture of happy and sad, hot and cold.

He was also absolutely certain, though he had no idea how he knew, that he was right when he said, "Liz was never in real danger. She had the same blessing you all get. Luck to keep you safe."

Travis got down on his knees until he was more on Parcel's level, then put his hand over Parcel's hand, stilling him. Parcel finally looked up. Travis's stare was piercing, but Parcel met it easily. Piercing looks felt familiar.

"Parcel," Travis said, softly, "Do you remember Jenna?"

"She was sleeping…" Parcel answered. Then he frowned, because it was a nice fantasy, but it wasn't the real truth, and Parcel might be a very little boy, but he still understood. "She died."

"Yes," whispered Travis. "She went on a quest with another boy…a quest to get something…"

"Good apples," said Parcel. Travis flinched and Parcel reached out to touch his brother's face. If he was his brother. Parcel wanted him to be his brother. They were family, and that was Important. Jenna was family too. And George and Martha. And the new person, Percy. Parcel was absolutely certain that they were all his family. He didn't know why George called him Hermes, because Hermes was a grownup person, a dad, and Parcel was a little person, a little brother. It didn't make sense and it hurt his head. Literally hurt his head, like something sharp was poking at his brain. Like if he pushed, his brains would squish out his ears. A part of him wanted to put a hand up to cover Travis's mouth when he started talking, to make him stop. But a part of him knew that he could never stop his brothers from talking if they needed to talk.

"Yes," said Travis. "They were on a quest to get apples. Our dad sent them. She didn't come back."

"The apples were a trick," Parcel said. He looked down in his lap again, then started petting Martha.

"A trick?" asked Travis. Travis sounded confused now, instead of sad. Parcel glanced at him, then back down at Martha. It felt odd, the need to explain things to someone so much older, someone who knew so much more than Parcel. Travis and Connor and Percy were grown people, even if they were young grown people, and they knew how to fight monsters, and they knew how to shop for little boys, and they knew…they knew all about their father and about their family and about the Camp where children like them go. Parcel didn't know anything. Not from memory. But he knew this, as if it were immutable fact, the same as water being wet and stone being hard. How could Travis be confused?

"To trick fate," Parcel explained. "By eating the apple. He was a thief…he could steal a new fate. If he ate the apple he wouldn't die. But…someone told…and he was angry. He was angry about the quest. He wanted to punish…he wanted to punish…luck isn't enough…not when he is angry. He couldn't kill the child with the fate without also cheating fate. He couldn't kill Luke. So he killed…" Parcel stopped. He pet Martha.

"Who?"

It wasn't Parcel's brothers asking, this time. It was Percy. Percy hadn't gotten down on his knees. Maybe because he was still holding George. He was taking good care of George. Parcel had known he would. Had known it in his bones. Percy knew about taking care of family, not like…

"She didn't protect them," Parcel said. "She calls it wisdom, but family is supposed to protect family. Not tell. Not…not punish. Jorge was her own child and she still told. And father killed Jemma and Jorge. And it was my…it was…it was Hermes' fault. Hermes was a bad father."

Parcel didn't start crying again. He felt odd, like there was a heavy weight crushing his heart with terrible sadness, as if these immutable facts were squeezing him too tight. His head hurt, too, a piercing kind of pain. He stuck his pinky in his mouth and bit hard, hard enough to counter the inside pain with an outside one.

Arms went around him, hugging him tight. It was a good kind of tight this time, not crushing but solid and warm. He felt cocooned.

"It wasn't Hermes' fault," said Travis's voice from somewhere above, almost in his ear. Parcel wasn't sure he agreed, because facts are just facts, not things you can argue away. But the words still make something inside Parcel's heart feel warmer.

'Listen to the hatchling. It was not your fault.'

That wasn't George's voice, and the sea of arms pulled back a bit until the two brothers could look with Parcel at his lap, where the sleeping snake began to stir.

'Hermes?' said the voice next, 'Why are you mortal?'

"Hermes isn't here," Parcel explained to the snake. "I just taste like him for some reason. My name is Parcel."

'Martha!' George shouted, and then, 'Let me down!'

Percy obediently, but carefully, brought his arm down so that George could join the other snake in Parcel's lap. The two wound themselves about each other, talking to each other at the same time in such a jumble Parcel could barely catch one word in ten.

"We should go," Percy pointed out. "I think we've found all the clues we are going to find and this place isn't secure. We need to talk to George and Martha…and Parcel. We need to know what happened. And then we need to share it with someone, and since phones mostly aren't working, we need access to a rainbow."

His voice was so serious and urgent that it made Parcel uncomfortable. He wasn't sure why; he liked when his brothers made themselves in charge and knew what to do next. It made him feel safe. But Percy doing it made him feel…sad? Feelings were so confusing.

"Right," said Travis. "Let's go home."

After everything, the world felt full of dark shadows hiding monsters around every corner, but the walk back was without incident. No one even seemed to notice how odd their group was; three men, a small child, two snakes, and a winged horse. Connor carried Parcel and the snakes. Percy led the horse. Travis kept his hand at his wrist, ready to draw his weapon at a moment's notice. Or he did, after he stole it back from Parcel. It was a quick walk. At every crossing, the lights had just turned in their favor as they approached, giving them a walk signal.

In a pillared hallway high up in Olympus, a particular titan was waiting for his own signal. Epimetheus was not one of the great titans. Very few mortals still knew his name. He wasn't particularly famous for doing great deeds; in fact, the stories that did feature him did not put him in the best light. He was, in the great mythology of the ages, an afterthought. Literally. He was the embodiment of afterthought. The only reason he hadn't been completely forgotten, to fade away long ago, was his connection to his much better-known brother. Where Epimetheus was afterthought, his brother was forethought. Prometheus, the one who fixed his brother's mistakes by stealing fire for the humans after Epimetheus didn't hold back enough gifts from the other animals to give humans a fighting chance.

Prometheus who never stopped rooting for the mortals.

Being brothers didn't guarantee anything like an alliance between the two; for the most part the great war between the gods and the titans was a family feud and close ties did not guarantee two would be on the same side. Which was why Epimetheus was able to remain neutral in the wars, his nature sheltering him from either side really pursuing him. And why Zeus was willing to let him be a bouncer. It was not Epimetheus who sided with the titans, then pretended it was a trick and he meant to side with the gods all along.

It was not Epimetheus who started attacking gods. Who found a way to steal their very essence for his own. Epimetheus never started anything. Finishing things, though, coming in after things were already done…that he excelled at. And just because he didn't side with his brother in the wars didn't mean he wasn't with his brother. Prometheus had enough foresight to keep his brother clear of everything. An ace in the hole. Just when everything seemed settled, when the gods had won and the titans were defeated. When it was time for after.

When Asclepius arrived, clearly having important information, Epimetheus tried to get the physician to share. After all, Prometheus's new toy was untested; his brother wasn't sure if essence could grow back. It would be a disaster if the gods woke up with even a tiny portion of their powers. If they woke up with their memories. So Epimetheus tried to question the physician who had been caring for the downed gods. The cold look the god had given him…everyone always lauded the physician as being so kind, so caring, the perfect bedside manner. But he didn't care for the likes of Epimetheus; the titan could see it in his eyes. For a god who had started life as a half-blood mortal, Asclepius had picked up a god's superiority complex quickly enough.

Epimetheus almost just let him go, but as an afterthought he sent one of his littler friends after the god. Having had a hand in creating many of the animals of the world, the titan had always retained a friendship with the world of beasts. His lion friend helped him guard the door. And his bat friend would shadow the gods. From a distance. No need to get in close with ears as powerful as a bat's.

The titan had half forgotten his spy when he returned, even though it wasn't more than ten minutes later. Epimetheus wasn't a big planner and his attention tended to be in the moment, or looking back after events already happened. Right then, he was arguing with a centaur.

"The line hasn't moved in ten minutes!"

"Because Lord Zeus hasn't called for a new entry," Epimetheus explained, calm and reasonable and slightly bored. Violet yawned, showing all her teeth, and the centaur stomped his front hoof.

Before the centaur could become so unreasonable that the titan had to stop him, or anything else interesting could happen, Epimetheus received the signal calling for the next person in line to enter. And, almost at the same time, his bat returned.

"Next," Epimetheus called, then took his time checking the centaur's I.D.

"You could have done this before," the centaur complained, and Epimetheus shrugged because he was right; anyone with a bit of forethought might have checked before. But that wasn't his nature, and he didn't really care. Finally the centaur was waved in.

"Violet, guard the way," Epimetheus barely remembered to say before he left his post to find someplace more private. "Alright, Carl. What did you hear?"

Below Olympus, the Stoll residence was starting to feel overcrowded. Three adult men, one small child, and two hurt snakes could not fit comfortably on the small couch. Travis and Connor crowded around Parcel anyway, the intertwined snakes now wrapped about his neck, replacing the toy which had moved to his lap. Blackjack had been given an apple found in the depths of the Stoll brother's fridge, helped himself to the flowerpots on next door's window ledge, and then was sent home. There was no appropriate place for a horse of any description to hang out and Percy didn't want Blackjack to suffer for it. But it did mean that Percy was now with them for the long haul. He eyed the crowded couch and opted to sit on the only chair, his gaze shifting from Parcel and the snakes, to the large pile of clearly stolen goods in the corner, then back to the couch again.

Parcel didn't like it. He didn't like that Percy felt separate from the rest of them. He didn't say anything though, just pet at his snakes and cuddled with his brothers and waited for someone big to take charge of things.

"Parcel," said Percy into the growing silence, and Parcel felt his brother's go stiff, as if they thought Percy would say something bad. Percy stopped for a moment, studying all three of them, before continuing in a gentle tone. "What is the first thing you remember?"

"I told already," Parcel said, frowning, because he'd told and he'd told, and the telling didn't change. "I woke up lying in the street under a blanket. Except it wasn't a blanket, it was a cloak that makes you invisible and protects you from acid."

"Protects you from…" Percy started to blurt out, then stopped again.

"Never should have taken Parcel with us," Travis muttered, more to himself than to anyone, but it still made Parcel scowl. Of course he should have gone with them. They might have been eaten by a monster if he hadn't been there. And they never would have found George or Martha. Percy was still looking at Parcel and Parcel could not interpret his expression. It was part puzzled, part sad, part…amused? Percy had a very expressive face.

"George, Martha," Percy said next, "What can you tell us? What do you remember? Who attacked you? And what…what happened?"

'Attacked?' Martha answered, sounding a bit dazed.

'That titan!' George answered, irate and agitated, 'Backstabbing, oracle-wanna-be, eagle food…'

It went on for a while. Martha finally spoke over him, her tone equally irate but where George was all hissing through his teeth in his rage, unable to give a straight answer, she spoke sharply, like ice.

'We were delivering packages, coming here in fact…Hermes…' here she paused, lifting her head to look at Parcel, flicking out her tongue. Parcel stuck his tongue out at her in return, waited for her to accuse him of being Hermes again. She didn't though. She turned her attention back to Percy. 'Hermes was worried. Portents suggested trouble to come. This trouble, I imagine. He was checking on all his children and then we were to go to the Camp and make sure it was secure. Only, somehow, the titan knew exactly where to lay the trap. His own foresight abilities, I suppose. Prometheus…'

"I remember him," Percy said, frowning. "He…he stole fire from the gods and got chained to some rock…he sided with the Titans. Then Hermes…er, Lord Hermes said he claimed to have only pretended."

'The titan must have lied,' Martha said, tone angry. George was still muttering names for Prometheus, some of which Parcel was probably too young to repeat.

"Prometheus…sent a missile at the delivery truck and then blew you up?" Percy asked. "Do you remember anything more? Do you know what happened to Hermes? Because Hermes was found lying in the street, not responding. And then Parcel just showed up. And no one knows what happened."

'Blew up…yesss,' Martha agreed. Then, 'I remember the plan. The plan must have gone wrong. Everything was wrong. Prometheus had some tool…it made it so we could not send a signal out. Not to message or to phone. And we couldn't leave, either, except by the usual mortal ways. Hermes had a plan. He would double himself, one under the cloak, one to do a front attack. We were unprepared and…the titan was not. Hermes could not double back in time because we were stuck. He had to literally tear away a piece of himself and the other Hermes didn't have us, or his shoes or his harpe. We wanted him to split us too, but he refused. So other Hermes only had the cloak. He was made small because…because Hermes could not risk a larger piece but…both were gods still. We attacked from the front, secret Hermes was to sneak to the back but…we blew up. And I don't know…I don't know what happened next.'

There was silence after that; even George had run out of things to mutter. Parcel did not know what to think about Martha's story. He was only little, but his mind was the kind of mind that was clever. He could find ways to hide on playgrounds. He could put together shoes. And he could work out the math. Hermes had divided himself into two, one big Hermes and one small. Parcel had only seen the big Hermes. And neither snake mentioned Hermes traveling with a little boy. But the snakes both called him Hermes. One big Hermes, one small…

"But I'm not Hermes!" Parcel screamed into the silence. And maybe he wasn't all cried out after all, because he burst into tears yet again.