Chapter Text
The last thing Percy remembered was floating in the lake at Camp Half-Blood the night before his eighteenth birthday, remembering everyone he'd lost, just as he did every birthday since Manhattan. The stars glittered above, though the only constellation he bothered to find was the Huntress.
Bianca. Zoë. Lee. Castor. Beckendorf. Silena. Michael. Ethan. Luke. Bob. Damasen. Small Bob. Jason. Dakota.
And those were just the ones he remembered- the ones whose deaths he was directly responsible for.
He floated, ignoring the tears staining his face, and wished he could've saved them. Wished that he could somehow prevent every awful thing that had happened since Mrs. Dodds. He wished there was a way he could do it all over again, even though he knew that, even if it were possible, he would never be able to do it on his own.
His last thought before he drifted off was how he'd change everything for the better if he was ever given the chance.
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The first thing Percy registered was waking up on a deck chair. The second was that he felt weaker than he had in a while. He was sitting in a familiar deck chair, on a familiar porch, with a familiar blanket draped over his legs.
On the table next to me was a glass of nectar. Considering how weak I felt, I could probably use some, so I reached out to pick it up, my arm shaking, but reeled back at the sight of it. My arm was thinner, paler, and more noticeably, free of the scars I'd collected over the years, as well as my tattoo from Camp Jupiter. Swallowing thickly, I reached out again, clasping the cup as my hand shook harder than before.
"Careful," a strangely familiar voice.
Grover was leaning against the railing of the Big House, but it wasn't my Grover. This Grover was much younger, looking to be around twelve.
This had to be a dream.
"You saved my life. I... well, the least I could do... I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this," he stuttered, the words achingly familiar as he placed the shoebox into my lap.
I opened it, but I already knew what was inside- the Minotaur horn, the tip still splattered with his blood.
"The Minotaur," I murmured.
Grover shifted and I knew what he would say.
"Um, Percy that isn't a good idea-"
"I don't care," I cut him off.
"You've been out for two days. How much do you remember?"
"My mom's gone, isn't she?"
He looked down.
My mind ran as I tried to think of why the fuck I was six years in the past. This was way too real to be a dream, no matter how real my dreams always felt, I could always tell the difference... unless it was about T-... there.
The last thing that I could remember was floating in the lake on my birthday, mourning the deaths I caused, the ones I couldn't prevent. Grover seemed unaware of, well... everything that I knew had happened. Was I alone in this, or was it simply a hallucination of my injured, grieving mind.
"-cy. Percy!"
He looked up at Grover, who was staring at him worriedly.
"Here," Grover held up the glass of nectar, patiently waiting for him to sip the entire thing.
The familiar taste of my mother's chocolate-chip blue cookies hit my mouth, making me feel warm and full of energy.
After I'd finished, Grover set down the glass, looking at me wistfully.
"What's it taste like?"
"My mom's cookies."
"And how do you feel?"
"Better."
"Good. I don't think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff. C'mon, Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."
My legs felt as wobbly as last time as we walked to the opposite end of the house, the Minotaur horn hidden away in the box that I held at my side.
Camp Half-Blood looked exactly the same as it had when I first came to camp, and that's when I knew I wasn't dreaming.
Annabeth was leaning against the porch railing next to Chiron and Mr. D.
Grover muttered in my ear, telling me who they were. "That's Mr. D, he's camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron...," he trailed off, pointing at him.
I decided to act shocked, not wanting to give away anything that I really shouldn't have known just yet.
"Mr. Brunner!" I cried.
He turned, smiling at me the same way he did when he turned a blind eye to me breaking one of the rules or mouthing off to someone I shouldn't've.
"Ah, good, Percy. Now we have four for pinochle."
I sat in the offered chair to the right of Mr. D, who spewed the same welcome I heard him give to every new camper.
"Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."
"Thanks," I muttered, used to his disdain.
"Annabeth?" Chiron called to her.
She stepped up, and Chiron introduced us, but all I could think of was how young she looked. Her hair was longer, she'd cut it a few months before, and almost all of the scars she used to have were gone.
"You drool when you sleep," she said, and took off.
"So, you... work here?" I asked Chiron.
"Not Mr. Brunner, I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."
"Okay," I acted confused. "And Mr. D stands for..." I trailed off.
Mr. D looked at me in disgust. "Young man, names are powerful. You don't go around using them for no reason."
"Right."
"I must say, Percy," Chiron spoke, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."
"A... house call?"
"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to . . . ah, take a leave of absence."
"You came to Yancy to teach me?" I acted confused.
Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."
"Grover, are you playing or not?" Mr. D barked.
"Yes," Grover shook as he took his seat.
"You do know how to play pinochle?"
"Yes."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes sir."
"I- What is this place? What am I doing here? Mr. Br- Chiron- Why'd you go to Yancy just to teach me?" I had to say, I was impressed with my acting.
Mr. D snorted, "I asked the same question." He dealt the cards, Grover flinching whenever one landed in his pile.
"Percy, did your mother tell you nothing?" Chiron asked.
"Well, she said she was afraid to send me here, even though my dad wanted her to. Said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave and she wanted to keep me close to her."
"Typical. That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?" Mr. D asked impatiently.
"Wha- oh, yeah," I muttered.
"There's too much to tell, I'm afraid," Chiron said, "Our usual orientation film will not be sufficient."
"Orientation film?" I asked, but was ignored.
"No. Well, Percy, You know that your friend Grover here is a satyr, You know that you've killed the Minotaur," he pointed to the shoebox, "No small feat, either. What you may not know, is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods- the forces called Greek Gods, are very much alive."
"So... that would make you the Chiron from the myths. And you- you must be Dionysus, right? God of- of wine and madness and insanity and theater?" I asked, pretending to process the information.
"Yes," they all eyed me.
"You're taking this... rather well, all things considered," Chiron said.
"I just fought a man-bull and my best friend has hooves. Immortality... really doesn't seem that surprising all things considered," I tried to cover.
"That's- fair, I suppose," Chiron spoke haltingly.
"Uh, Mr. D, sir? If you aren't going to eat it, could I maybe have your Diet Coke can?" Grover asked.
"Eh? Oh, all right."
Grover bit out of the can, chewing as he stewed in his worry.
Mr. D waved his hand, a goblet of wine appearing.
Chiron warned him of his restrictions.
Mr. D looked at it, acting surprised. "Oh, dear me. Old habits, sorry!" He called to the sky as thunder rolled.
He waved it again, a can of Diet Coke appearing. He sighed, popped the tab, and went back to the game.
Chiron winked at me. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."
"A wood nymph," I repeated. "...Why was she off-limits?"
"Hm. Why, indeed," Mr. D muttered. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, the Prohibition. Ghastly! Horrid ten years! The second time- she was very pretty, I couldn't stay away. The second time- he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for demigod brats like you. 'Work with the youths rather than tearing them down' Ha! Absolutely unfair. Also, I believe I win."
"Not quite," Chiron set down his cards. "The game goes to me."
"Actually, it goes to me," I said, setting my cards down, to both of their shock.
Mr. D, like he did when he always lost, sighed though his nose. As he rose, so did Grover.
"I'm tired. I think I'll take an afternoon nap, but first, Grover, we have to talk about your less-than-perfect performance. Again."
"Y-yes sir," Grover sweat nervously.
"Cabin eleven, Percy, and mind your manners," Mr. D said, and then turned into the farmhouse with Grover following him miserably.
"He'll... be okay, right?"
Chiron nodded, "Old Dionysus isn't really mad- just hates his job. He's been... grounded, I suppose you could say, and he can't stand waiting another century to go back home to Olympus."
"Mount Olympus, right?"
"Well, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."
"So, they live in America?"
"Yes. The gods move with the heart of the West."
"What- like Western Civilization?"
"Yes, actually. America is now the heart of the flame- the greater power of the West. And so, Olympus is here, and we are here."
"Oh."
"Yes. For now, let's get you to a bunk in cabin eleven. There's new friends to meet, plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."
He rose from the wheelchair, and action was so familiar that I'd almost forgotten to act surprised.
"What a relief, I've been cooped up in there so long my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Percy Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."