Chapter 29
Percy woke up, opened his eyes, and immediately closed them. The light hurt. He was seriously hungover. Or was he? Was hungover even the word? It didn't sound severe enough for what he was experiencing right then. He wasn't 100% sure, but he was fairly certain that he had never been that drunk in his life. They'd kind of overdone it the night before. But they'd had fun, and he supposed that was all that mattered.
After around 5 minutes of lying in bed, groaning, he forced himself up when he smelled breakfast. He needed some food. He came stumbling out of his tent and made his way over to the dining area. The entire squad had set up camp, all 50-ish demigods, but the head table was only for Percy, Artemis, Thalia, and everyone from the Prophecy of the 7. So, as he approached the large, round table, he was greeted by Artemis' grinning face.
"Hello, Perseus!" she practically yelled.
His only response was to grit his teeth and clutch his head. He took a moment to collect himself, and then sat down at his designated seat. Immediately, he rested his face against his open palms, making sure to close them over his eyes. Unable to resist, he groaned miserably.
"How are you even hungover? Shouldn't your healing make those impossible?" Thalia asked curiously.
"It'll take care of it in the long run. I figure, 5 more minutes until I'm all good."
Just then, Jason and Piper stumbled out of their tent. They looked about as bad as him. Worse, actually. He, at least, was used to sleeping in tents, in various forests. They were used to a King sized bed, in New Rome.
After a few minutes of trying desperately to adjust to the sunlight, they made their way over to their seats, right next to Percy, who grunted a greeting to them. They just grunted back.
"You guys want some eggs? They're sooo creamy!" Artemis asked loudly, shoving the nausea-inducing eggs into their faces.
The best any of them could do was lean away slowly, and make guttural sounds of protest.
"Ooohhhhh, I do!" Thalia yelled, banging her fork against her plate childishly.
"You all suck," Percy whimpered miserably.
He swore he heard Artemis snicker.
"Have you seen Nico?" Jason asked quietly.
"What, are you kidding? After last night, we'd be lucky to find him alive," Percy replied snarkily. It might have been his imagination, but he may have heard Jason breathe out a small laugh. He really couldn't be sure if that actually happened though.
Then, as Jason and Piper had, and Percy before them, Nico practically crawled out of his tent. Without uttering a word to anyone, or even making a single sound, he sat on the bench and hugged his knees to his chest. Out of sympathy, all conversation died down, and everyone just focused on eating.
Percy ate a small plate of berries and some dry toast. Piper and Jason had similar portions. Nico just sat there, likely wishing for death.
Hazel, Frank, Leo, Calypso, and Reyna didn't even come out of their tent until much later. But when they did, they started to look better and better. Demigods naturally had a higher tolerance to alcohol and recovered from hangovers faster than normal people. It still sucked, but they would be fine within a few hours.
Overall, Percy reflected once he was feeling better, he had no regrets. He'd had a great time with his friends. They hadn't had that much fun in a very long time. It had felt like he had finally cut loose, after feeling perpetually stressed for around 2 decades. He could tell his friends felt similarly.
—-
A few days later, Percy had to do something. Something he was very reluctant to do, but it was important that he did. Asking Artemis for some time away was easy. She asked him why, but he didn't tell her. He wasn't sure he could bring himself to say the words, so he didn't even try. He just said that he would be back the next day.
It took him a few hours to walk to the nearest main city. Percy's squad was deep in one of America's densest forests, and they were a long way away from civilization. He could have run, but somehow, it didn't seem right. So he walked.
Once he was in the nearest city, Alexandria, Virginia, he rented a car from Hertz and drove to New York. It was a long drive. A little under 4 hours in the car. It was torture for his ADHD, but he did his best to ignore it, and get there with no stops. After arriving in New York, he parked at the first available spot he found, fed the meter, and started walking. He decided to make a stop first. He needed some time to compose his thoughts and was finding it hard not to procrastinate anyway. So he found a neat little cafe, and ordered a tall coffee and some pastries. Then he sat at a table outside and watched the world go by. He was near enough to the Empire State building that he couldn't help but think of the huge battle that had been fought there nearly 30 years ago. Gods, time flew. It felt like yesterday.
He could still remember the battle clear as anything. The feeling of it all. It was like him and Annabeth against the world. That was hardly the case; they had a veritable army of young demigods behind them; but he had never worked quite so close with Annabeth on anything before, and wouldn't again until the prophecy of 7, aboard the Argo 2.
It still felt slightly odd to see Manhattan, bustling and busy. He remembered how it had been during the battle. The dead, silent streets. Like a post-apocalypse movie.
He remembered when Annabeth took that knife for him. The one that would have killed him, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He was only alive because she risked her life to save him, all those years ago. He remembered the panic that overcame him when he realized what she had done. The horrible guilt.
He tried to clear his mind. Downing the rest of his coffee, and finishing the rest of his pastry, he got up again and carried on towards his destination, making only one more stop along the way, to buy 2 dozen Camellias. After that, he arrived before long. Woodlawn Cemetery.
It didn't take him long to find the grave he was looking for. He'd only been there once, over 20 years prior, but that day was etched into his mind so firmly, he would never forget.
Annabeth Chase
Beloved daughter, fiancee, and friend
July 1993 - August 2012
He crouched before the grave and delicately placed a dozen of the Camellias against the gravestone. The gravestone itself, looked like it had seen better days. Some of the elegant writing was starting to fade, and it was getting a bit discolored. But that was just a by-product of age. Inevitable, really. The grave itself looked to be very well-kept. Clearly, the groundskeepers were doing good work. Percy made a mental note to find them and thank them.
He had originally wanted to say a few words. He hadn't been at the funeral, after all. He felt like he owed her more than that. But now that the time had come, and he was looking at the stone with her name carved into it, he was lost for words. What could he possibly say? What mere words could encapsulate everything she meant to him? Everything she had done for him?
Percy felt himself start to tear up. Then the words made themselves clear to him. And he couldn't stop himself from giving them voice.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, "I'm so so sorry, Annabeth."
He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, exactly. Not visiting her sooner? Letting her die? Not realizing what Jack was planning before he did it? Maybe for Sara… Or maybe it was some combination of everything.
He sensed the footsteps behind him,and knew who they belonged to. But he didn't turn around. Now that he was here, he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away from the grave before him.
Artemis didn't say anything. She just crouched down next to him, and behind him slightly, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
They sat like that for a while, and he couldn't help but cry softly. Eventually, she spoke.
"It's a beautiful place for her," she said quietly.
It was. The whole cemetery looked like it was out of a magazine. It was quiet and peaceful. Huge shade trees were littering the place, that were well-groomed enough to be unobtrusive, without looking barren. Annebeth probably would have liked it. Not that it mattered.
"I'm not sure she can appreciate it," he grunted.
Artemis looked down. Clearly, she didn't know what to say. But that was fine. Percy had no clue either.
They stayed there together in silence for as long as it felt appropriate. Eventually, Percy slowly rose, eyes still fixed on the grave. Then Artemis took a small step closer, wrapped her comparatively small arms around his massive bulk, and squeezed. Before he really thought about it, he felt himself do the same. She was a lot taller than normal, which he was pretty sure was intentional on her part. He rested his head on hers, suddenly exhausted.
"You wanna go?" she asked gently when they disentangled themselves.
He had to sniff back another tear and shook his head. He picked up the second bunch of Camellias he had bought and walked away in search of another grave. It was only a short walk. 2 minutes later he laid the flowers down at another stone, similar to Annabeth's.
Sally Jackson
Beloved Wife, mother, friend to all
September 1961 - August 2012
Just like Annabeth's, his mother's tombstone was fading slightly with age, but still looked in good condition, and was clearly being looked after carefully. There were already a few flowers there. Red Roses. They looked a few weeks old. Paul.
They spent some time there. Again, what was there to say? He liked to think that if his mother could somehow see him there, she would be ok with him remaining silent. Finding something to say, under the circumstances, was incredibly difficult, and Percy wasn't great with words even at the best of times.
He wiped another tear from his eyes, getting vaguely frustrated with himself for crying so much. Artemis nodded and gently took his hand in hers. Not in a romantic gesture, but just doing her best to comfort him however she could. He appreciated it.
Percy took a shaky breath, and turned to the Goddess next to him.
"Ok. We can go."
Artemis nodded without a word, and they walked away slowly, retracing the steps they had taken on the way in. After a while of walking the streets of Manhattan aimlessly, they stopped at a cafe to sit down for a while. He wasn't quite ready to leave yet. Percy absently noticed that the cafe held a pretty strong resemblance to the one he had stopped at earlier. Maybe they were a chain. He didn't really care.
He sat down, while Artemis got them some drinks and food. She came to their table on the patio a few minutes later. For the first time since he'd seen her in the cemetery, he looked at her more carefully.
She was dressed in a dark green hoodie, light blue jeans, and open-toe sandals, which Percy found vaguely interesting. She was normally a boots type of person. It wasn't often that she wore something open. Her long, auburn hair was tied back in a high ponytail, exposing the elegant curves of her neck, and her hoodie was hanging low enough on her slim frame that her collarbones were just visible.
She was taller than usual, which he had noticed earlier. He hadn't noticed quite how much taller though. She was nearly 6'3. And that particular fact wasn't escaping the rest of the people in the cafe. Not a single one of them wasn't staring at her. Their stares only redoubled when she sat down next to Percy, a veritable giant, himself.
But she wasn't paying them any mind, which Percy was grateful for. After visiting the cemetery, the last thing he wanted to do, was break up a fight. Especially when one of the fighters was a Goddess. She seemed to notice that he, like everyone else, was staring at her oddly. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw her cheeks color slightly.
"I had a feeling you were going to need a hug, and I thought it might be a bit awkward with the height difference. This is the tallest I can make myself without turning into my full 13ft form."
He nodded.
"So why didn't you turn back when we left the cemetery?"
"I had other priorities at the time," she said, almost defensively.
She had provided him a lot of emotional support by then, so he decided to let it go.
"Well, you look really nice," he said, trying to appease her.
She blinked in mild shock. Which, in turn, was mildly shocking to him. Did she not know she looked good? Was that really possible? She was a virgin Goddess and all, but she was still a Goddess. She had to know that she looked pretty great.
"You think so?" she asked quietly.
Something in the way she said it.
"Uh," he replied expertly, "I mean, sure. You're a Goddess and all. I think you're kind of designed to look good."
"A virgin Goddess," she clarified.
By then, he had his wits back, "All the more reason for you to look great. Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest," he said with a manufactured smirk.
Truth be told, he didn't really mean anything by it, and he just said it to bring their conversation back to the realm of acceptability. There was a weird tension building, and if there was anything Percy had learned in all his years of social interaction, it was that nothing killed uncomfortable tension like a joke.
And it worked. Artemis, who had been leaning forward in her seat, leaned back, and rolled her eyes.
"I'm not entirely sure that's the point," she said, with a lazy smirk.
"Could have fooled me," he shrugged.
She shook her head with a hint of affection in her eyes. Then they sat in silence for a few moments, drinking and eating. He noted that she had brought him coffee, but had chosen green tea for herself. He filed that away for later. He liked to make notes of the various things she liked and disliked.
"Why today?" she asked quietly.
He looked down. Didn't want to say anything. But he felt like he owed her that much, at least.
"Today was her birthday."
Artemis nodded silently, and reached across the table to squeeze his hand gently. Then pulled back and stayed silent.
"How'd you find me, anyway?" he said, trying not to let them lapse into silence.
"I was a bit worried about you this morning. You were being cagey and secretive. I thought something might have been wrong. So, I may have… followed you a bit," she finished quietly.
"I'm sorry, you what!?" he practically hissed.
"Only a little bit!" she replied defensively.
"And how exactly do you follow someone, a little bit, Artemis?"
She chewed on the inside of her cheek for a while before saying, "I was worried about you," quietly.
He crossed his arms and tried to stay mad about the invasion of his privacy, but he felt it drift away.
They finished up, and left together. Percy had to drive the car back to West Virginia, and Artemis offered to ride with him, but he declined. He needed to be alone for a while. That was only part of the reason though. What he didn't tell her, was that he had a few places to visit before he could leave New York. Places and people he should have visited much sooner.
Once she flashed back to their camp from the safety of a dark alley, Percy walked towards the building he remembered. He had checked to make sure he still lived there, a while back. He had kept tabs on him for a while, but couldn't bring himself to actually visit. But he was out of excuses now.
He knocked on the familiar apartement door, and heard a feminine "Coming!" in a sing-song voice. He waited, and tried not to use his senses to scope out the apartment before-hand. It somehow felt inappropriate.
The door swung open to reveal a woman somewhere in her 60s. Long hair that went down to the middle of her back, left grey. Warm, brown eyes. Warm, brown eyes, that immediately widened upon seeing him.
"P-Percy?" Helen Chase asked him.
That didn't surprise him. He'd known already. A few years after Annabeth and his mom died, Paul and Helen happened to visit the cemetery on the same day. Frederick had died a while back, from cancer, and the two got to talking. They were married now. No kids of their own, so it was just the two of them in the apartment.
Just then, Paul, who heard what she said, came barreling over.
"Percy?" he said, almost in awe.
Percy just nodded slowly.
"Can I come in?"
There was a weird silence for a few seconds before Helen gathered her wits again.
"Yes, of course. Please," she said, moving aside and gesturing towards the apartment.
He nodded gratefully and stepped inside. The silence that fell on the 3 of them, was painful. After a few seconds of shuffling feet in the hallway, Helen made a wild gesture towards the living room, and he took a seat on the couch. Paul and Helen took seats opposite him in two matching armchairs. Again, they lapsed into silence. A silence which Paul broke.
"You… you haven't aged a day," he said, only mildly shocked.
Percy just nodded.
"So… does that mean you're a God now? Is that why you've been gone for so long?"
Percy shook his head.
Paul shuffled a bit awkwardly, "Um. Ok?"
Percy sighed under his breath. He had to make an effort.
"I was given partial immortality after… what happened."
Paul nodded, "You still look different though. Bigger."
Apparently that was how Paul wanted to take things. Percy was fine with that. Until the older man got his wits about him again, he wanted to take things slower. Get the more banal stuff out of the way.
Paul himself looked pretty good, for a man in his 60s. His hair was mostly grey now, and his face had a few more lines. Mostly around the eyes. Smiling lines, they were called, as far as Percy knew. Clearly, he was still the kind, generous person he had always been. Percy was glad for that. He liked Paul, and he was glad the older gentleman was taking things better than Percy had.
"Yeah, it's a long story. Short version, is I've been training a lot."
Paul nodded, "Training for anything in particular?"
"Kind of. Nothing specific though."
"Where?"
"Can't say."
"With whom?"
Percy almost smiled. Ever the English teacher.
"Can't say."
"Why not?"
"It's a long story, I can't really talk about it right now," he said again, "But I'll be able to talk about it one day."
A few seconds went by in silence before Helen spoke up.
"Fair enough."
Paul nodded in agreement, and then looked down at his hands, clearly gearing up to say something more difficult. Percy helped him out.
"I know that you two are married. I knew before I even came here, actually. I did a bit of research when I first got to New York. I wanted to make sure you were ok."
Helen and Paul went quiet for a fairly long time after that. But Percy didn't hurry them.
"Percy… Let me assure you, nothing has happened that would in any way disrespect your mother's memory," Helen said slowly.
Percy nodded, "I know. I know the full story. I know you got married in 2017, after a year of being engaged, and 2 years after you started dating. I know you didn't even meet until you two visited the cemetery on the same day."
They blinked.
"How did you know?" Paul asked.
"Like I said, I did some research."
"How?"
"Facebook, mostly. It's all right there."
"But we never posted anything about how we met, on facebook?" Helen pointed out, baffled.
"Not directly. But it wasn't hard to read between the lines. Paul, you posted something about visiting the cemetery, Helen you posted the same thing on the same day. Then there was another post about getting coffee with a friend. Then you both changed your relationship statuses a few weeks later. It's not the hardest thing to figure out."
They shuffled slightly, but didn't say anything. So Percy did.
"How's Estelle?" he asked Paul, who seemed relieved for the change of subject.
"She's good. Actually, she's a cop. After what happened to Sally, she took things pretty hard. Then she said she wanted to stop things like that from happening to anyone else. So she joined the police force here in New York. She's a detective."
"Already?" Percy asked, slightly surprised. He actually hadn't known that. He knew she was a cop, but nothing more.
"Yeah. She took the whole thing really seriously when she applied. Aced her training, and all of her assignments. She's actually one of the youngest detectives in her precinct's history," Paul told him, with more than a hint of pride.
"That's great, Paul. Really great. What department is she in?"
"Homicide. I tried talking her out of it, of course. Said it could be dangerous. Said she might find it all a bit disturbing. But she'd made up her mind, and there was no changing it. She lives a few blocks down, if you want to visit her."
"I will," Percy said, nodding, "I'll find her address when I leave."
Paul nodded.
"How about Mathew and Bobby?" Percy asked Helen.
Helen looked a bit sad for a moment.
"Well, after Frederick passed away, they drifted apart a little bit. They both joined the military. Bobby signed up for the Army, and Mathew joined the Marines."
Percy understood. The rivalry between the Army and the Marines was quite well-known. The Army saw the Marines as glory hogs, whose PR team did more work than the rest of the branch combined, and the Marines saw the Army as boring grunts, who were well beneath them. The whole thing was silly, really, but it was what it was.
"What do they do over there?"
"Well, Bobby is a Sergeant in Delta," she said.
That already was extremely surprising. Delta, or rather, 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta, was serious shit. They were, effectively, the most highly-trained branch in the whole of the US Army. They were hunter-killers. Not just hunter-killers, but the best hunter-killers in the whole of the Army. They were the elite subdivision of Army Rangers and Special Forces. The cream of the crop. If Bobby was a part of Delta Force, and a Sergeant nonetheless, then he was one of the best of the best. Percy was impressed.
If Bobby was in Delta, then Percy was going to guess that Mathew was a Recon Marine, which was effectively the Marine version of the same thing.
"And Mathew is an MP Captain," she finished.
Yet another shock. They truly had separated. Delta was well-known for seeing themselves as above regular rules, and thus, above regular MPs as well. MPs weren't generally liked within the Army, but the rift between them and Delta was greater than most. So if one brother was Army Rangers, and the other was not only a Marine, but a Marine MP, then that would imply a seriously strained relationship. Not to mention that Mathew was an officer, and Bobby wasn't. That was practically the icing on the cake for them.
Overall, Percy was pretty proud. Estelle, his half-sister by blood, was doing very well in the NYPD, and Annabeth's younger half-brothers were doing very well in the military. Detective in NYPD homicide, Sergeant in Delta, and Captain in the Marine MPs, were fairly high ranks, and they had their whole lives ahead of them. Percy didn't know how old any of them were specifically, but he was fairly sure that Bobby and Mathew couldn't be past their 30s, and Estelle had to be looking ahead to 30, probably in her late 20s.
"That's nuts," he said, because he couldn't think of anything else.
"Yeah, you can imagine the thanksgivings." she joked.
He chuckled, "Invite me next time. It's not often I get ringside seats to a fight like that."
Paul and Helen laughed mildly, and then Paul built up the courage to speak again.
"Do you think you'll still be here by then? Thanksgiving?" he asked hopefully.
He thought about it. There wasn't exactly a progress bar on his mission that told him how far along he was, but at a guess, he would say that he had dismantled about half their organisation thus far. That meant another few months on Earth, and then he would go back. The thought startled him vaguely. He'd gotten so used to being back…
"Probably," he said eventually.
"Do you have plans?" Paul asked hesitantly.
He shook his head, "You guys?"
They both nodded, and Helen replied, "Yes, we all have dinner together. Me and Paul, Estelle, Mathew and Bobby, and whoever they're seeing at the time."
Percy nodded.
"Are they seeing anyone?"
"Estelle's single, as far as I know," Paul told him, "And the twins are both in relationships."
Helen nodded, "Yes, but they probably won't still be together by then," she said dismissively.
Paul gave his wife a look, "You said that last time too,"
"Well I'm all the more likely to be right this time, aren't I?"
The disapprovale was plain for anyone to see. Percy repressed a smile. Then he thought about his own mother. Wondered what she might have thought of Sara, if they'd met. Would she have approved?
"Well, do you think you could add another place at the table?" he asked, bringing their conversation back to where it had started.
They looked at him, and Helen's gaze softened, "Of course, Percy."
"Do you think you'll be bringing anyone?" Paul asked mischiviously.
Percy smiled sadly, "No, I doubt it. I guess you'd say I'm married to my work."
Half true, he supposed.
"Really? No room for a little something extra?"
"None. It's better that way."
Paul decided not to push it.
"Ok I'm sure you know better than I do."
Percy nodded and stood up, "I'm glad you guys are ok."
They stood with him, "You're leaving?" Paul asked.
"Yeah, I'm a bit late, actually. I'm going to say hi to Estelle quickly, and then I've got to get some work done."
"You know, you still haven't actually told us what it is you do," Helen said, a little pointedly.
He thought about it, "You said Estelle's a cop, Bobby's in Delta, and Mathew's an MP?" he asked her.
She nodded, "Yeah, that's right."
"Well, I guess you could say I'm a mix of all 3."
They both blinked up at him, and tried to picture what that might look like. He offered them a small smile, hugged them, and left.
He pulled out his phone and did some light research. A few minutes later, he had Estelle's address, and saw that she lived fairly close by. Choosing to walk, rather than taking a cab, it took Percy around 10 minutes, and then he was right outside her door. He knocked and waited. Then checked the time. It was around 7 pm. No way she was home. She'd made detective already, one of the youngest in the precincts history, apparently. And she was single. No partner to worry about. He made a bet with himself that she never got home before 9.
So, he walked down to the nearest precinct and asked to speak to detective Estelle Blofis. The guy asked for a name, and Percy gave it to him. Then he sat down in the small waiting area, while the desk guy made the call up to the detective floor. He spoke for a few seconds, then put the phone down and nodded at Percy, holding up a single finger to indicate she'd be right there. Percy nodded back to the guy and offered a small smile. People on Earth were so much more polite than people in Chaos' realm. He was going to miss that when he left.
Then a shape appeared around the corner. A young woman, who couldn't have been older than 28, entered the waiting area, intelligent eyes scanning the room. She had long brown hair, that was tied into an impeccable bun. She was dressed in the classic detective gear. Open blazer, collared shirt, dark blue, in her case, and black slacks. She wasn't particularly tall, nor short. Maybe 5'8, which made him nearly a foot taller than her. She was in very good shape, which was both surprising, and unsurprising. Unsurprising, because the NYPD generally liked their people to be in good shape, and she probably worked out a lot. Surprising, because she lived alone, on a detective's salary, with no boyfriend, and she regularly spent the vast majority of her day at the precinct. A healthy diet would be difficult to maintain. Her eyes were a warm brown color, and there was more than a hint of intelligence behind them, mixed in with a look of hesitant apprehension. Then those eyes landed on him, and widened to a ridiculous degree.
"Percy?" she asked, flabbergasted.
He only had time to nod his head, before she launched herself at him from clear across the room. Reacting on instinct, he spread his arms wide and enveloped her. As soon as his arms closed around her, he never wanted to let go. He had really missed Estelle. Last time he had seen her, she'd been so little. He could have lifted her up on one hand, and flown her around the room. In fairness, he probably still could, but it would be a lot more awkward now.
After a solid minuted, they pulled back and he got a closer look at her. Like her father, she had laugh lines around the corners of her eyes and mouth, but hers were much less defined than his. And it was clear that she was doing nothing to conceal them. The closest thing she had to makeup, was the hint of foundation adorning her cheeks. She had contacts in, too. Not colored ones. They weren't cosmetic in any way. Purely functional. She just wanted to see without wearing glasses.
What happened next surprised him a little, but wasn't completely out of nowhere.
She slapped him.
Hard.
"Where the hell have you been, all these years!?" she demanded.
"Christ, Estelle, you must be a hell of an interrogator." he joked.
She raised her hand again in a threatening gesture, but he lifted his palms in the universal sign of surrender.
"I'll tell you everything, Ok? I swear. But can we go somewhere else, first?"
She looked around the room, and saw the desk guy looking at her weird. He saw her blush a little, and then nod.
"My car's in the lot. Give me a 'sec to get my stuff, and I'll meet you there."
He nodded and turned around to walk away. The parking lot was mostly empty. The precinct's night staff were in, but there wasn't as many of them as the day staff, and there were almost no civilians there. Picking out her car was fairly easy. It was an unmarked Ford Crown Victoria, obviously a pool car she was using on a regular basis. A lot of detectives opted for the same choice. There were nearly a dozen of them there and then. But hers was easy to identify. The night shift was on duty, but they hadn't been for long. Their cars were clearly recent additions to the lot. Hers, had obviously been there a while. It looked a lot more settled, and still. The others retained some residual heat, and an air of motion. Completely intangible, but definitive. Estelle's on the other hand, almost looked like it was in hibernation.
She emerged from the police station a few minutes later, and looked vaguely surprised that he had discerned which car was hers. But she didn't ask how. Presumably she knew everything he knew when it came to detective work, and even more, most likely, so her surprise wasn't really with the fact that he had worked it out, but rather that he had worked it out. His reputation as something of an idiot, was still alive and well.
She unlocked it, and they climbed in. There was a short silence, as she drove them back to the apartment he had just come from. Once they were sitting down on her couch, and she had taken a few moments to gather her thoughts, she asked him her question again.
"Where the hell have you been, Percy?" she asked miserably. He couldn't put into words, how bad he felt.
"That's… That's a very long story. I'll be able to tell you everything one day, I swear, but I can't get into the details right now. But lets just say that I've been unavailable. I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye, if I had a choice."
Estelle sat back and thought for a while.
"So, what can you tell me? Does it have anything to do with the whole Olympus thing?"
"In a way, it does. But I actually wasn't with them. I wasn't even on Earth, actually."
Her eyes bugged out of her skull. Yeah, in hindsight, he should have figured out a better way to put that. Casually mentioning that he'd not only been to space, but a whole other planet, was maybe not the most tactful way to bring it up.
"You what?!"
Percy cleared his throat uncomfortably, and nodded.
"Yeah. After everything with mom… I got an offer to join a kind of "group". I took it. But the catch was, I couldn't come back here."
"You're here now," she pointed out.
"Sure, I am, but I was sent here for a specific reason. I've got a mission. Once it's over, I go back."
She looked like she was about to cry. He felt so bad.
"Percy… I can't believe this. Mom dies, and then you vanish for 20 damn years! Then you show back up, and you're practically a Giant, and you're talking about missions, and space, and other planets! What the hell!?"
"It's complicated, Estelle. And I can't get into it, anyway. I'm not supposed to."
They sat in silence for a while, as Estelle tried to come to terms with that. Percy knew he was asking for a lot, but he was really hoping she could manage it.
Eventually, it was too much for him, and he had to speak.
"Anyway, what's been going on with you?"
"It's complicated. I'm not sure I can get into it," she said a bit spitefully.
He looked down at his hands, "Estelle, please. I'm still your big brother. I care about you. A lot. I want to know what's been going on in your life."
He sensed she felt a bit bad, so she sighed through her nose, and started.
"I guess there hasn't been too much. You already know I'm a cop. I'm a detective, actually."
He nodded, "How's that going?"
"Not bad. Pretty great, actually. I love my job. I love my coworkers. I love the good we do,"
He smiled, "I'm glad you're happy, Estelle. Really. Does it ever get to you? The crime scenes, and all that?"
She rolled her eyes at him, "You're as bad as dad," she said fondly.
"He's a smart guy," Percy told her with a grin.
She smiled, but didn't reply to that. Instead, she carried on like he had never spoken.
"He was pretty worried when I started out in homicide. In fact, he suggested maybe I'd want to go back to vice," she said with a laugh.
"Vice?" Percy asked incredulously, "Does he have any idea what goes on there?"
Estelle adopted a mischievous look and shook her head slowly, "I told him it's all about "drugs and stuff", but I kept it pretty vague. He hasn't got a clue that I spent a few solid months posing as a hooker," she said with a growing smirk as Percy's face got pinker and pinker.
"Estelle," he said, in a warning tone.
She just laughed, "So, I'm perfectly happy to be in homicide now."
He got a bit more serious for a second, "And seeing that stuff… It doesn't affect you?"
She matched his tone, "I guess it does and it doesn't. On the one hand, I need to be able to feel some basic empathy for these people. I'm not a psychopath, or anything. But I'm no use to anyone if I crumble to pieces everytime someone dies. I can do more good if I don't let it get to me."
"I understand that, but sometimes you'll need to talk to someone about all this, otherwise it'll just build up until it all explodes."
"If I need to talk to someone, I will. But I don't, so I won't."
He smiled ruefully. Ever the cop.
"Cop bravado aside, you can talk to me if you need to," he told her, ignoring the indignant "hey!" she cried when he used the word "bravado".
She smiled a bit and nodded.
"So, what are you working on right now?" he asked curiously.
She smiled again, but this time in a conspiratorial way.
"Can't talk about that. Official cop stuff. We can't really talk to civilians about it," she said, stretching out the word "Civilians" mockingly.
"Estelle, I think I might legitimately be as far from a civilian as humanly possible. You can tell me if you want to. Who knows, I might even be able to help."
"Oh, could you now? How so?"
"I have resources. And a pretty decent head on my shoulders."
"Perce, we're the NYPD. We've got our own resources, and our own heads." she said with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes.
"Sometimes, an outside perspective can be very useful."
She thought about it for a while, "Fine. I'm woking on a murder right now. Body was found in an alley last night. 20-year-old male. We haven't even been able to identify him yet. I'm not even sure how to attack this thing"
"Why haven't you been able to identify him?" he asked. A whole evening was more than long enough for fingerprint analysis, or even dental record checks back when he lived on Earth. They had to be way ahead by now.
"How do we usually check an identity?" she asked him, like a teacher making a point to a student.
"I would assume, DNA, facial recognition, fingerprint analysis, and dental records."
"You would assume correctly," she told him.
"So…?"
"So, the guy has no face, no teeth, and no DNA or fingerprints on record."
Silence.
"I'm sorry… no face?" he asked, monumentaly confused.
"Not a useful one. Guy got seriously bludgeoned. His own mother wouldn't recognize him. Obviously, during the process, all of his teeth were knocked out, so no chance of dental records."
"Hm… Were the teeth at the scene?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Well, that's interesting."
She quirked her head, "Is it?"
"Mhm," he muttered, and then went back to thinking. Estelle stared at him.
"Are you gonna elaborate on that?" she asked him after a few moments.
"What was used to bludgeon him?" he asked, ignoring her.
"A brick that we found nearby. It had the guys blood on it. No prints, if that's what you're thinking."
"Hm" he muttered.
"Ok, what?"
"Ok, we're dealing with a smart guy. A really smart guy, actually. And an experienced killer, who wasn't squeamish about getting dirty."
"What makes you say that?"
"He very effectively covered up an impromptu murder."
"What makes you so sure this is impromptu? Given that the victim had literally no teeth left in his mouth, suggests that the killer made sure each and every one of them was removed. That's not something normal people just do."
"Normal people don't just kill people either, but this one did. But that's not that point. The victim having no teeth, doesn't mean a pro. Just means the killer was smart."
He could tell she wasn't entirely convinced.
"The fact that the murder weapon was picked up in the bar, makes it almost a certainty that the killer wasn't a professional. Any worthwile pro, would bring their own weapon. I sure as hell would. This was two guys, who came stumbling out of the bar next door, got into an argument, and one of them picked up a brick from the ground. End of story."
"How the hell did you know the alley was next to a bar?"
"Honestly? A guess. But an educated one. There's a good chance alcohol helped start the initial argument, that led to the murder. Besides, there's about a million bars in New York, so odds were there was one near the alley anyway."
Then, finally, she smiled, "Alright. Not bad, big bro."
He stared at her for a second, and then he realized.
"You figured all this out already, didn't you?"
She laughed, "Perce, this is my whole job. In all fairness, you did pretty well, but I figured that out all on my own before you even showed up. Though, you were pretty quick, so don't feel too bad."
"Yeah yeah, you can stop making me feel better now, Estelle," he told her with an affectionate eye-roll. He had totally forgotten that she had grown up since he had last seen her.
Then another thought occurred to him.
"Does your ME have a time of death, at least?"
"Around midnight, give or take an hour."
"Ok, you have a timeline. I'm assuming you checked the cameras, and they were clean?"
"We were going to, but the bar actually doesn't have any. Or, so they told us. I'm talking to a judge, trying to get a warrant to check," she told him with an annoyed sigh.
"I can check for you, if you take me there. Maybe I can get a look at the scene, too."
She laughed, "Percy, I'm not going to actively involve you in a police investigation."
He shrugged, "You don't have to involve me officially. I can do things anonymously, it's fine. No one will know. I know how to get things done quietly, you can take my word on that."
She watched him for a few moments.
"You know you don't actually have a shred of proof for any of this, right? It all sounds great, and I'll check it out for sure, but as of right now, this is all speculation."
"Give me a look at the scene, and a few minutes to examine the body, and I'll confirm it for you."
"How, exactly?"
"I'll know it when I see it," he said confidently.
And he was confident. His brain being what it was, it wouldn't be particularly difficult to create a mental picture of the scene, and the event itself. After that, finding out who and why, would be easy.
"Alright, fine. Let's go see the scene, and I'll call the ME on the way, arrange a visit for right after."
"Great!"
They got up and went back to the car. Nearly 20 minutes later, they were there. The alley was a typical affair. Dirty, smelly, shady. Reeks of booze. Ah, New York. He ducked under the yellow police tape with a lot more difficulty than Estelle, and then his brain kicked into gear. There were blood spatters all over the walls, and a small pool of it on the ground, where the victim had been found. It seemed the place would be cleaned up the next day, or thereabouts. Just in case the cops needed something else from it.
The details that he hadn't had before, started filling in, and the picture in his head got a lot clearer. It was downright vivid, now. The key to solving any crime, is empathy. Putting yourself in the position of the killer, using all of the information you have available to you, and examining all of the actions you know to have been performed, and trying to use it all to fill in the gaps. So, that's what he did.
He imagined the scene. He and a friend of his were in the bar, and they got liquered up. An argument broke out. About what, he couldn't say. But it got heated. Quite heated. Enough so, that he saw the brick lying around and thought of a use for it. His friend turns around, maybe to sigh in exacerbation, and as soon as it happened, he pounced. He picked up the brick and swung. Just once, at first, and then again, and again. Finally, realizing what he had done, and that his friend was beyond help, he started covering. First, the teeth had to go. A lot of them were gone already, but he was thorough. So, out they came. Then the fingertips. But how? He didn't have a knife, or, indeed, anything sharp. If he did, he would have used it for the actual kill. Much cleaner. Much neater. Neater…
"How did the killer get away?" he suddenly asked Estelle.
"What do you mean?"
"He beat someone to death with a brick. There's no way to do that without getting covered in blood. This is a public alley, and there's no way the guy lives in the adjacent building, or he would never leave the body here. So how did he get home? It's not like he could have taken a cab."
"That's… an interesting thought. It's pretty chilly out here, though. The guy might have been wearing an overcoat during the attack. If he did, then it would have soaked up all of the blood from the attack, and then he coud have dumped it. Whatever he would have been wearing underneath, would have been totally fine."
"Either that, or he drove himself."
"He drove?"
"He might have. But either way, he would never have taken the coat back to his place. Guy this smart, with such an understanding of crime scene analysis, and police investigation procedures, would know that completely removing traces of blood, is almost impossible. So he would ditch the coat as soon as he felt comfortable."
"How long would he wait?"
"If he was driving himself, probably between 10 and 15 minutes in the car. Anything less than 10, would feel like it was too close."
"So, you're asking me to search every dumpster in that radius? That's a hell of a lot, even for the NYPD."
"We can narrow it down later. For now, I want to talk to the owner or manager of the bar next door, and then we need to go check out the body."
She shrugged. They went around to the front, and walked into the bar.
It was a fairly upclass kind of place. Leather upholstery, top-shelf liquor on racks behind the bar, and tons of mahogany. Most of the staff was female, and they were all young, hot, and skimpily dressed. Percy briefly considered sitting down and ordering a drink, but snapped out of it.
Ignoring everyone, and heading straight for the manager's back office, Estelle's badge got them straight in. A middle-aged pudgy man was sitting behind his desk. He looked up at them with a reflexive smile, which instantly faded at the sight of Estelle.
He sighed, "You again? I already told you lady, you can come back with a warrant if you want, but that ain't gonna change anything. There's no cameras in this place. Clientele like ours; they wouldn't like it. Get lost, why don't ya?" he ended flippantly, and went back to his computer.
Percy set his jaw, and made a conscious effort not to growl.
"Mr. O'Connor, are you sure you don't want to help us out? There was a murder right outside, you know? It might go a lot quicker, if you comply," Estelle tried diplomatically.
"For the last time. I ain't some magician that can make stuff appear outta nowhere. There ain't no cameras in here, means there ain't no cameras in here. End of story."
Percy slowly swiveled his head around to Estelle, and silently asked her to wait outside. She caught on, and walked away without another word. Percy very casually dragged the manager's visitor chair back, and dropped into it. The guy's eyes shot up to look at him in disbelief. Percy waited for him to speak first. Things typically work better that way.
"What the hell you think you're doing, Big Foot?"
Percy suppressed the smile. Big Foot, was new on him.
"I'm getting the tapes my colleague asked for," he said, keeping his voice low.
Better if the guy didn't know he was Estelle's brother. That way, he wouldn't have anything to identify him.
"Oh, yeah, tough guy? And how do you think you're gonna do that?" he asked mockingly.
"Like this," Percy explained, before reaching across the table with one of his monstrous arms, grabbing the guy by the hair, and slamming his face down into the table.
It was a pretty good hit. The guy's nose didn't quite break, but nearly. It was certainly painful enough. He howled, and went stumbling away, the moment Percy let go. He gathered himself for a second, and then tried to pull a gun out of his jacket. Naturally, this came as no surprise to Percy, who casually pushed the table into the guy's waist, pinning him to the wall behind him.
Only then, did Percy stand up at walk over to him. He took the guy's gun from him, ejected the magazine, and racked the slide to get rid of the bullet in the chamber. Then he tossed the gun into the trash can next to where the table had formerly been, without looking over his shoulder.
"The footage. Now."
"I'm tellin' ya! We got no cameras in here!" he stained out.
Percy shook his head disappointedly, "Yes, Mr. O'Connor, you do There's one hidden among the booze on the top shelf behind the bar. There's more, in each and every lightbulb in that room. I know that. You know what else I know? I know that there aren't any in here. You know what that means? It means I can do whatever I want to you, and once I'm done, you can't do shit about it."
"Nah! You're a cop! You got rules!"
Percy actually laughed then, "You think I'm a cop? Look at me, Mr. O'Connor. Do I look like a cop? Do I look like a guy with rules? No, and no."
"I can have you arrested for this!" he tried again.
"How, exactly? Do you know who I am? Do you have any evidence I was ever here? All you got, is one cop, who's gonna swear blind that she never saw me anywhere near this place. Who do you think they're gonna believe? An upstanding officer of the NYPD, or some sleazy bar manager?"
"I can pick you out of a line up!"
Percy pretended to think it over, "Yeah, I guess you're right. You know what that means right? It means I'm just gonna have to beat your ass so damn bad, you don't remember me at all. Maybe I'll make it so you don't remember anything from the last month. Or year. Hell, maybe I'll just beat you into a coma. Maybe you never wake up."
"My staff musta seen you in your way in! They'll testify!"
"Oh, please. Any decent lawyer will make the case you forced them to testify to that. Threatened to fire them if they didn't say what you wanted them to say, and so on. And hey, it's not like you've got cameras in there, right?" Percy joked.
O'Connor's face went bright red. He opened his mouth again, ready to try another argument, but Percy didn't want Estelle waiting outside for too long, so he slapped him in the mouth, back-handed, mildly hard. It made the guy shut up. Percy reached over, grabbed the guy's right hand, and placed it on his mouse. Then he reached for the monitor, pulled it forward, and angled it down, so the guy could see from his position on the ground.
"You got a USB?" Percy asked him.
He saw the guy was about to shake his head, so he interrupted him.
"Look at me, O'Connor. Am I the kinda guy you want to lie to?"
He thought about it for a few seconds, and then meakly said, "Top drawer."
Percy opened the top desk drawer, retrieved a USB, and plugged it into the PC.
"Now, you're gonna copy last night's security tapes onto that USB, you understand?"
O'Connor nodded submissively and did as Percy asked.
"Good. Now you're gonna delete the footage from the last hour."
He had to cover his tracks. He had mocked the guy about it earlier, but the cameras in the main room would have picked up Percy and Estelle clear as day. They would go a long way in backing up the guy's story if he ever spoke about what happened.
O'Connor nodded again, and did as he asked. He right-clicked on the appropriate folder, and clicked delete. Percy smiled.
"Now from the trash can. I'm not an idiot."
O'Connor colored again, but said nothing, and did as Percy asked again.
Satisfied, Percy slammed his elbow into the side of his head, knocking him out instantly. Then he got up and walked away, careful to take a back exit, where there were no cameras. No point making O'Connor delete the footage of him walking in, just for the cameras to catch him leaving.
He met up with Estelle and showed her the USB from the office.
"This should have footage of our guy and his likely killer having a few drinks together."
She eyed the thumbdrive skeptically, "You know that's not admissible in court, right? Not in a milion years."
"No, but there's no reason you can't watch it on your own. Once you know who your best suspect is, you can start figuring out legit ways to get him. For one thing, you know for sure that he doesn't have an alibi. If he gives you a fake one, you can sweat it until it breaks."
She shrugged, "Fair enough.
They went back to her apartment, and Percy was able to get more of a feel of the place. It was definitely a cop apartment. By which he meant, there was little emotional memorabilia. Few pictures. He could only count 3 or 4. He was in one of them. It was him, Sally, Paul, and a very young Estelle. They had gone to Central Park that day, and a kind stranger had offered to take their photo. They all agreed, and grinned at the camera, as they were told to say cheese. A split second, immortalized forever. 4 faces, beaming brightly, staring straight at him. He looked away.
Then there were a few pieces of furniture, that weren't very used. No one spent much time on any of it. There was also a faint smell of cigarettes in the air. He turned to her sharply.
"You smoke?!"
She blinked and turned sheepish.
"Well, you know, the stress of the job, and all…" she said vaguely, trying to think of some way to justify herself. He knew what she was going to say, already. First, she would turn to her status as a cop. Then she would tell him she was an adult, and she could make all her own decisions. Eventually, she would come around to questioning his authority as a big brother, since he'd been gone for so long. So, he decided to pre-empt the whole thing.
"You're quitting," he said as firmly as he possibly could. Which was quite firm, for the record.
6'7, 300 pounds of muscle, arms crossed in front of his chest, prominent forearm muscles and veins proudly on display, and absolute cold in his green eyes. He could have scared white off rice.
"Fine," she said quietly, eyes averted.
"Good. Now lets look at this security footage."
She perked up again, feeling alive at the prospect of a lead, in a case that had seemed almost impossible a few short hours ago.
They moved to the couch, and Percy plugged the USB into the side of Estelle's TV. Then he went back to the couch and sat down. The footage started up straight away. It was way off, in terms of their timeframe. It was the beginning of the day. Their staff had only just opened up and started getting ready for the upcoming hubbub.
Estelle picked up the remote and started fast-forwarding. It took some time, but slowly yet surely, people started pouring in and ordering drinks, and as the hour got later,more and more people started dancing. She stopped fast-forwarding and let the video play in normal time. Percy was scanning the faces and bodies for anything suspicious. He doubted the killer had the intention of murdering their victim when they arrived at the bar, but it was possible.
He found a few faces he recognized. People he had seen in passing, when he'd been in the bar earlier that night. He was making a checklist in his head of the staff. But then he saw a face he knew a whole lot better. A face he knew very well.
He actually gasped. It may have seemed vaguely ridiculous, but he couldn't have helped it. Immediately, he shot off the couch and got closer to the TV, trying desperately to confirm he had seen the person he thought he saw. Estelle made a noise of confusion, but Percy didn't hear her. He picked up a bunch of quarters from a jar by Estelle's door, and left her apartment, sprinting down the stairs, and out to the nearest pay-phone he could find.
He shoved quarters into the slot and dialed a number from memory.
"Contemporary Rome, how may I help you?" a voice sounded through the receiver.
"May I speak to Remulus and Romus, please?" he asked urgently, and was instantly transferred to Camp Jupiter. They had held the tryouts for the squads quite recently, and the guy on the line had clearly remembered his voice.
"Who am I speaking to?" another voice sounded.
"Get me Hazel Levesque, now!" he snapped, and was put on hold half a second later. To allow for communication between Percy and Jacks's squads, and the rest of the demigod world, the "Remulus and Romus" system still worked. Both squads had a main phone that was connected to the Contemporary Rome system.
He was left on hold for a few moments, and then a voice came.
"Percy?" he heard Hazel ask from the camp in the middle of the forrest.
"Hazel, listen carefully. Where. Is. Frank?"
"I don't know," she said, obviously crying.
Percy cursed under his breath, and leaned against the payphone, fighting tears himself, and losing badly..
They both stayed on the line, both crying, for a while. Estelle found him a while later, but didn't say anything. She just put a hand on his shoulder.
"Percy, what do you know?" Hazel asked him, her voice breaking.
"How fast can you get to New York?"
She thought for a moment, "Maybe an hour? I can take Arion."
"Do. When you get here, come to-" and then he rattled off Estelle's address.
"Ok," she hung up.
Percy slipped the phone back into the cradle, walked quietly back to the apartment, and sat down. He watched the footage all the way through. Then again. Then again. He memorized every move Frank made while he was on-screen.
Frank looked good on the cameras. Competent. Sharp. Aware. Helen had said that Bobby was a Delta Ranger, and Frank had a similar vibe. Delta guys had an air of total confidence. As they probably should. Delta Rangers were some of the most finely trained soldiers in the entire Army. So, as a result, when they were around normal soldiers, they seemed completely confident and at-ease. Because they knew that if anyone started anything, they'd win 999 times out of 1000.
Frank had an extremely similar air about him. Not too many demigods did, but Frank, and the rest of the group from the Second Great Prophecy, were exceptions. After all the wars, and the pressure, and prophecies, they could handle anything life had to throw at them without breaking stride. And Frank was an especially big guy. During their days during the Prophecy, he had thought Frank looked like a toddler who had taken a lot of steroids. But that little residual baby fat, had burned away during the years Percy had been gone. He was pure, hard muscle, with an archer's arms and shoulders.
Aside from the Second Giant War, and the Prophecy of 7, Percy knew that Frank had spent around 20 years as a type of vigilante, which had only served to make him a lot better at what he did. Frank had to be, without a shred of doubt, one of the most dangerous demigods on the face of the Earth. So how the hell had he been killed in some random back alley? There was no way he would turn his back on some guy he didn't trust. Not under circumstances like that. Frank knew better.
He walked to their table with long strides, scanning the room for threats as he walked, and then sat down, facing the rest of the bar, with his back against the wall. He looked calm, and determined.
He sat down with another guy, and they talked for around an hour, before they got up together, and left the way they had arrived. To the back alley, Percy knew. Where Frank had then been bludgeoned.
And the worst part? Percy had no idea who the guy Frank met with, even was. No clue. It wasn't a demigod. He knew that much. During the tryouts, Percy had familiarized himself with every single demigod in either camp. He had never seen that face in his life.
Estelle was staring at him.
"Who is that guy?"
Percy let out a shaky breath, and started, "His name's Frank. A Roman demigod, son of Mars. Descendant of Poseidon, too. He could transform into any animal, at will. He was one of the 7 in the second Great Prophecy, and he fought in the Second Giant War. He was a great man. And he was my friend," he finished quietly.
She didn't say anything for a while.
"Guy like that, he wouldn't have gone down without a fight, would he?"
"Never. He must have been taken by surprise. But I just don't see how. Frank was smart. He wasn't a genius or anything, but he wasn't an idiot either. He would never turn his back on some random guy he didn't trust, when they were alone together, in a dark alley. Definitely not for long enough for that guy to pick up a weapon and hit him. Think about it. This is a guy, who could turn into any animal in the world, whenever he wanted. If he thought the slightest thing was wrong, he could turn into an ant, and be practically invisible to an attacker, or turn into a grizzly bear, and maul him to death."
"So… how could it have happened?"
"I don't know… but I can tell you one thing. I can tell you one thing, beyond all reasonable and unreasonable doubt. The guy who did this, is going to regret ever being born. And that's a cast-iron guarantee."
And he meant every word.
A/N: Ok, this is this one. Told you guys this one would be faster than the rest! Oh damn… what if it isn't faster? What if I've just played myself? I've let you all down, I know it! Ah, anyway. You've got it now, ain't ya? Anyway, sorry for killing Frank. It had to be done. And it's going to lead to some interesting things down the road. Thanks to my wonderful beta, Anon516 for making this stuff readable. See ya guys in the next one. Stay safe.