Chapter Text
Rachel Elizabeth Dare was having a weird day.
Which, granted, was saying something considering she'd just watched a bunch of teenagers fight a big pig before journeying to a dam, but still.
She'd followed them… okay, stalked was probably the more accurate term, because when you can see through the Mist and a sea-green-eyed boy literally controls water to fight monsters, you don't just let that go. She had questions. So many questions.
What she hadn't expected was to find said sea-green-eyed boy and his friend (the one with the goat legs, GOAT LEGS!) slumped against a wall in some coffee shop off I-95, looking like they'd aged forty years.
"I can't believe Ares ran her over," the goat-boy was saying, his voice cracking. "In a limousine. Who even does that?"
Rachel nearly choked on her latte.
"It wasn't on purpose," the green-eyed boy (Percy I think his name was?) replied, rubbing his face tiredly. "He was texting and driving. Again."
"He's the GOD OF WAR, Percy! He shouldn't need to text while driving!"
"And yet."
There was a beat of silence. Then the goat-boy let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a giggle. "The sound it made though-"
"Grover-"
"Like a-like a squeaky toy-" Grover dissolved into slightly hysterical laughter.
"Grover, we agreed we wouldn't-" But Percy was cracking too, his shoulders shaking. "Okay, okay, the way she just-just bounced-"
They both lost it.
Rachel stared at them, horrified and fascinated in equal measure, as these two boys laughed like maniacs about someone apparently getting run over by the god of war.
"I'm going to Hades," Grover wheezed. "I'm going straight to the Fields of Punishment for laughing."
"Get in line," Percy managed. "Pretty sure we're all-" He stopped abruptly, going rigid. "Wait. Grover. GROVER."
The goat-boy's head snapped up, laughter dying instantly. "What?"
"Someone's heartbeat just spiked. Behind the ficus."
Rachel froze. Could he actually-?
"Relax, Percy, you're being paranoid," Grover said, but he didn't sound convinced. "It's just the trauma."
"Forty-seven loops of trauma," Percy muttered.
"Forty-eight if you count the one where Bianca got food poisoning from that gas station burrito before we even left New York."
"I'm not counting that one. She technically survived until we got to the dam."
"Fair."
Rachel's brain was struggling to process any of this. Time loops? Forty-eight attempts? She should leave. She should definitely leave. Normal people would leave.
She leaned closer.
"So what's the plan this time?" Grover asked, pulling out a battered notepad. "Do we try the 'hide Bianca in Dr. Chase's basement' strategy again, or-"
"That didn't work. She just snuck out and died faster."
"Right, right. What about the one where Thalia fights Atlas?"
"She dies in three seconds. Every time."
"Could we get it down to two?"
Percy actually considered this. "Maybe if we distract her with something shiny first-"
"I have so many questions," Rachel said, stepping out from behind the ficus.
Both boys jumped about a foot in the air. Grover made a sound like a startled goat (which, fair). Percy's hand went to his pocket where something glinted bronze.
Then they both just... deflated.
"Oh," Percy said flatly. "You."
"We've seen you forty-seven times," Grover added, equally flat. "You always show up at the Hoover Dam. Usually you help, sometimes you almost get us killed, once you somehow set Bessie free early and that was a whole thing."
Rachel blinked. "Bessie?"
"The ophiotaurus. Long story. Not important." Percy slumped back against the wall. "Look, I'm sure you have questions, but honestly? We're having a rough loop. Ares ran over our friend with a limo-"
"I heard."
"-and we're trying to figure out how to save her, which we've failed to do forty-seven times, so if you could just... not? Right now?"
This was officially the weirdest conversation Rachel had ever had. "You're stuck in a time loop."
"Yes."
"And you've lived through this quest forty-seven times."
"Forty-eight counting this one," Grover said, checking his notepad. “And survived isn’t the right word for it. Well sometimes we ace it, but that didn’t solve our problem.”
"And someone named Bianca always dies."
"Yup," Percy said. "Always."
Rachel pulled up a chair. "Okay. Start from the beginning."
Percy and Grover exchanged a look.
"Why?" Percy asked suspiciously. "You literally can't help; we even got you to kill Bessie on try… 28? Something like that, which did nothing good. Point is you still couldn’t fix the loop."
"Maybe I can help now."
"Forty-seven times says you can't."
"Forty-seven times you didn't try at this point in the loop," Rachel shot back.
Another look between them.
"She's got a point," Grover admitted.
Percy sighed, long and exhausted. "Fine. But you're buying the coffee. I’ll get the other three."
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