Chapter Text
Percy made a point of going with each and every group activity the Hermes cabin kids had the week after the 'Demeter Debacle', up to and including archery practice. Much to all of their amusem*nt and/or frustration. As he'd hoped, seeing him fail so badly seemed to remind them that yes, he was mortal, just like them (for now), and the camp thankfully grew slightly warmer towards him. There were at least four more demigods in the Hermes cabin now, two of them were red-headed twins (a boy and a girl) of Aphrodite, while the other two should eventually be claimed by Hermes and Demeter. Percy hadn’t ever met any of them, which meant they’d either died due to the monster trap or had followed Luke. He was trying to get to know them but the general lingering attitude of the camp made them stand-offish, even when they saw other Hermes cabin members interacting with him like normal.
It didn’t help that Luke was still avoiding him, and he hadn't gotten a chance to chase the older boy down. When he could find the son of Hermes in a somewhat private setting (usually during private study time), there would always be some excuse on his lips before he slipped away.
When Percy couldn't find Luke, he ended up focusing on water travel instead. Which did not go well. For days. He had almost no progress figuring it out, which in turn frustrated him to a point where he'd broken down and asked his father. He knew Poseidon would likely not risk answering him, but he didn't even know how to go forward at this point, and was a little desperate, if only because he really wanted to help Erin. Not skipping on group activities cut down on his practice time, but more than once he found himself by the lake, trying to figure out what to do or asking the naiads for ideas.
Unfortunately, they didn't have any advice that worked either. They were water; an element given sapience. They just took on their liquid form when they had to travel excessively, or… well, even just rest (hence why they rarely traveled across land). But he couldn't liquify himself. He'd tried… again, but that worked just about as well as it had the first time, annoyingly. So he'd tried connecting with the liquid in the lake somehow. That hadn't worked.
Then, towards the end of the week, a new naiad met him in the lake when he showed up that study period. Which made things very difficult as he was trying to get to the lake on the sly so as not to tip anyone off in the betting pool, but the new naiad didn't know that and greeted him very publicly.
"Are you the—" the beautiful woman with shimmering hair so dark it almost looked blue over her aqua eyes practically yelled. Thankfully one of the regular naiads slapped a hand over her mouth first. It still drew a lot of attention, but there wasn't much he could do about that, he supposed. Maybe he'd head down to the ocean instead. He really wanted a break. If he got far enough down the beach, he could jump in and practice without anyone noticing, he hoped. It would just take a while to get there. Still, better than giving away secrets that could potentially kill him.
"Thanks, Maya," Percy said to the brown-haired nymph who had stopped the new girl from spilling his secrets.
After he explained everything to her, she nodded and leaned forward. "Sorry, M'lord. But I have a message from your father." Percy's heart leapt in his chest. His father had answered? With a naiad messenger? He hoped his father knew what he was doing. Nature spirits were the worst gossips… but then, maybe the direct fear of a god would keep everyone in line?
"Go on," he said excitedly, if warily.
"First, he said to say if anyone spilled this secret by gossiping, he'd find a way to make the rest of their life, no matter how immortal, miserable."
That answered that question. Several of the naiads shifted uneasily, but otherwise, no one spoke. Percy felt himself relax, and sent a mental thanks to his dad.
"Second," she went on, "he said that some of his children have had the ability to traverse large distances via water-travel. Not 'over' the water, or even 'under' the water, but 'through' the water. A sort of ability to teleport via water. Much easier when in a body of water, but possible over land at short distances."
"How short are we talking?" Percy asked suspiciously.
She winced. "He said you'd ask that. He said that it can grow with more practice; that theoretically someone should be able to use water vapor as well, although that can be dangerous because, you know, in the sky and not his realm. But initially you'll be… lucky to be able to hop inches, should you get this technique down."
Percy frowned. He… could work with that. Still limiting, but Erin had said she was by the Colorado River… and he hadn't really paid much attention to that river in the future. Something niggled his mind, but he'd have to do some research. Still, theoretically, if he took a river directly up from the ocean to Colorado, that should work, right?
It was a thought.
Though waterfalls might be an issue. Did the Colorado river have any waterfalls?
No, later. Focus.
"Okay, did he say how this whole water-teleportation thing works?"
"Well, he said you'd have to learn to sense water first. Then, at least initially, you must be touching the water when you… merge with it, differently than us…" she paused when she saw his dry look and shifted uneasily before muttering. "I don't understand either. In any case, you can then move yourself to the farthest point you can sense in the direction you want to go."
He frowned. "I've tried that. I can sense the entire lake, so there's at least one step done—one I'll work on expanding—but I've tried merging and it doesn't work."
The new girl (he really needed to get her name) grinned. "He said you'd say that, too."
Percy frowned. Was he getting predictable? Yet another thing for him to work on.
"And?"
"Firstly, merging and liquefying are (according to him) different. We liquefy," she gestured around to the rest of the group of naiads before going on. "He suggested you may be trying to focus on just liquid in general. The technique he described would require you to merge with water specifically. Become an extension of it."
Percy tipped his head to one side thoughtfully. After a moment, he realized his father was right. He hadn't focused on becoming water specifically. It had just been natural to focus on liquids. It sounded like semantics, but divine powers could be nuanced like that. He of all people understood that.
"Huh. Did he say anything else?"
She shook her head. He nodded in return, still thinking.
"Are you going back to the ocean… um…"
"Doris."
Gift of the ocean, huh? Percy smiled. "Thank you, Doris. So, are you returning?"
She bit her lip. "I… well, despite my name, I am actually a naiad, not a nereid. My last river dried up, which was why I was in the ocean to begin with, so I was hoping I could stay here. Your father said you could pray to him to update him…"
Percy grinned. "Then welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Doris."
Then he turned to the rest of the group. "Could you ladies fill her in on… everything?" Several giggles and nods of affirmation answered his question. "Good. I'm going to head down to the beach and see if I can't find somewhere private to practice."
Standing up, he waved at them before hurrying off. He knew several people were watching him, and he couldn't really change that, but hey. He'd been encouraging their assumptions anyway.
He had to hike nearly to the camp boundaries before he found some place private enough where he could be alone. Wonderful. With that, he took off his shirt and began to practice. Reaching out, he could sense the liquid in front of him—the water. He knew how water felt, knew how it reacted to his powers, knew that seawater tended to react the best to him (hence why he was here), but he'd been the god of liquids for so long, and they all reacted to his powers these days. Even now, he could just sense a normal liquid. He could probably change that if he went to the depths, but the kind of water that really fell in his domain would take too long to reach if he wanted to be back by dinner… or even campfire.
No, he had to separate 'water' from 'general liquids' in his mind. Not easy because water was a liquid. A mildly contaminated liquid? Moderately polluted liquid…
Not helping.
Okay, what had Doris said his Dad said…?
Wait… his Dad. Dionysus said he had his father's domains in him, that they were difficult to sense because they weren't really Percy's. But, especially at this point in time, he had access to them. He just… hadn't been using them like that. Not this time around, when he had his own domains.
For a moment, he just stared out to sea, not really seeing it. Was that really the answer? Had he just been too independent—too eager to rely on his own power? On what felt like his? His father had openly offered to help, and practically begged (in his own, stuck-up, godly way) Percy to seek his help and keep him updated.
So….
Closing his eyes again, he searched through his soul, this time bypassing the connection to his own, diminished powers and reached for that part of him that would always belong to the sea—that would always connect him to his father.
It took longer than he would have liked to admit, but eventually, he felt something almost foreign. It would have been alien if he wasn't so familiar with it, to a point where he almost considered it a part of himself, and had for centuries.
"Hey, Dad," he muttered, unable to keep a smile from tugging at his lips. He didn't open his eyes though. Still concentrating, he reached out to the ocean through that power and…
His breath caught in his throat.
He knew he had a different point of view—that he couldn't be the same as he'd been the first time he'd lived these years. He also knew he was a child of the sea and always would be. But he'd never really sensed the ocean remotely closely to how his father must. That connection, while still there as a god, was diminished, overpowered by his own domains. Understandable but… he'd been missing out.
Because the ocean was… alive. So much began and ended there. The first micro-organisms appeared there. Somehow, he had a feeling life would end there too. At least on this planet. The ocean was freedom. The ability for humans (and so many other animals) to travel longer distances than would ever be possible otherwise, for so long—centuries and millennia.
The ocean was water. Water that could give and take; both merciful and merciless, bound to the tides and whims of gravity and yet seeming to fight back at the same time. Water carved out the strongest of stone and weathered away the highest of mountains.
Water was… so much.
And without his future perspective, he couldn't have seen that—couldn't have known that—without potentially going mad. Was this why children of the big three went insane so often? They got a glimpse of what more really meant?
Because it was…
No, wait… he needed to focus.
Right.
He could freak out about this later. (And he definitely would.)
So yeah, what had his Dad said? Sensing the water—he certainly could—and sensing it as water, not just a liquid. Check.
Then merge with it… which was different from liquefying. Become an… extension? And move through it? Hmm. That wasn't giving him any ideas other than to swim. And he could swim very fast. But the kinds of speed he'd need to go at to reach Erin in Colorado would require him to move far faster.
Huffing, he plopped down in the shallow tide, letting the salty waves wash around him. He didn't know how long he sat there, focusing on the water and trying to find a way to merge with it without liquifying as he had in the future. (His past? Ugh. Time travel.)
Eventually, he flopped back on the sand and stared up at the sky out of frustration. How was he supposed to merge with water without becoming liquid? Or maybe his father hadn't meant that, but just meant not his usual way? Nothing was coming to him, though.
He wished he had his Annabeth with him. She'd know what to do… or at least have some ideas.
Then again, that wasn't the first time he'd thought that. He missed her. So much. Maybe it was out of his frustration, or just tiredness from being so overwhelmed at what lay before him, but, for a moment, he allowed himself to remember a part of his past he usually avoided. His last moments with his wife.
He'd sat by her side as she lay in bed in a hospital room, her body failing due to old age and complications that his father said they weren't allowed to meddle in. The Fates had declared her death, and while he hadn't given up, he'd also known—deep down—that she wouldn't pull through that one. And even if she had, the idea of her spending the rest of her days on that bed, only able to get around with help and a walker, barely able to remember anything. The stroke had done significant brain damage and he didn't know how to fix it, or he would have, and the gods could go right off and screw themselves. But even Apollo refused to touch it.
When she'd died, he hadn't been able to believe it. His daughters had been waiting outside, so it was just him and her as her breath had slowly diminished… until it hadn't come at all. He hadn't moved. Even when father had shown up… with Athena. Annabeth hadn't spoken to her mother for years by that point, and yet, she'd still appeared by her bedside, an expression of deep sorrow on her face as she leaned down. Percy, still too locked in grief, had wanted to tell her to get lost in no uncertain terms, but the recent loss meant he was still in shock. A reassuring hand on his shoulder had also distracted him. He'd turned to see his father standing there, looking on solemnly.
"Annabeth," her mother had said. "I know we didn't see eye-to-eye, and I know you had your reasons, as did I, but something I could never seem to say was that I always loved you. I know human love and love of the gods is different. Of course, I do, but… as much as I could care for my child, I cared for you. I'm…" she'd paused, her voice full of more emotion than Percy had ever heard, "I'm sorry it wasn't enough. I know you wouldn't have wanted to hear that in life, though, so I stayed away. I thought that was what you wanted. I hope it was. Because you seemed happy." Then she'd turned to Percy. "Thank you for making her happy."
That had been the one and only time he'd ever seen Athena cry.
When Percy hadn't replied, she'd nodded. "I'll leave you to mourn. My… apologies for intruding." That had also been one of the few times he'd seen Athena sincerely apologize. Then she'd flashed away.
A god's brain was supposed to encompass so much more than a human's, and yet Percy knew he hadn't been able to process. He'd only been able to sit there and watch.
"I'll… go get the girls," his father had said. He hadn't replied.
He remembered his daughters entering. One of them, he was ashamed to say he didn't remember which one, had collapsed at the bed-side, crying, while the other stood behind her sister stoically. He knew which was more likely—their daughters had very much taken after one parent each—but he also had the thought that he would have been surprised had he been able to feel anything at that point, so he couldn't be sure.
He remembered his father talking, saying something. And then the hand on his shoulder and he'd been under the sea, in the middle of the Pacific somewhere. His brain hadn't even been functioning enough to figure out where.
He also remembered feeling the vaguest traces of confusion under the numbness and asking his father why he'd taken Percy there.
"So you can mourn," he'd said simply. "I know you. You would never forgive yourself if you hurt someone in your grief."
In his…
And it had hit him. She was gone. He would never be able to see her again. Gods weren't allowed in Elysium.
That had been one of the worst typhoon seasons of the century, but it had also stayed mainly in the Pacific itself. Something he'd thanked his father for later. Destruction and the Sea did tend to mix a little too well. Thankfully rogue waves and tsunamis had been relatively low, his grief and anger at not being able to go with his wife turning into the storms of his youth, just on far larger scales. Hence, the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
His father had stayed with him through it all.
Then Nico had let him know Annabeth was fine once he'd been able to return. She'd made it into Elysium, of course. Had even paid for the entire room of waiting people to go with Charon across the river. Even now, he didn't know how she'd pulled that off. The psychopomp had not been happy.
Percy had asked Nico to take him there, to just let him look over the walls to see her, but the son of Hades, old as he'd been at the time, had refused, far more gently than he would have when they'd been young.
He'd died barely a year later.
That hadn't been a good typhoon and hurricane year either.
Each death had left a hole in his heart, starting with his mother and… never really ending. Every child that came to camp hurt when they died, no matter when that was. Nico had been the last of the campers who had died, ironically enough, and with him, Percy had lost the only person who could shadow-travel to the underworld and give him updates on those who had passed. Of course, at the time, he'd only wanted to know about Nico himself, and Hades had (begrudgingly) informed Percy later that he was also in Elysium.
That had been a relief. He'd…
Wait, shadow-travel.
He blinked as his mind caught a hold of that, both not wanting to dwell on that train of thought much longer and seeking a possible answer to his current conundrum. Nico had been the only demigod he knew who could practically teleport, up to and including both him and Jason. Percy could zoom through the sea at mach speeds, and Jason could fly but… no one else could move like Nico could through shadows.
He'd asked Nico how shadow-travel felt to him once, and his cousin described it as less of forcing his will on the shadows, and more becoming one with them and slipping through them. Just like what his father said about water. Nico had harrumphed and shot him an annoyed look when he said it was more like asking permission than it was about demanding it, which was probably why gods flashed everywhere and didn't use shadow travel. It was like entering a different world altogether—an in-between space connecting the underworld and Earth.
Had Percy… had he been approaching this too much like a god? Too sure of himself and what should happen around him in regards to his power? Too demanding? Too commanding?
That thought almost made him wince. It seemed like it, and he'd really have to keep an eye on that.
Taking a deep breath, he reached out through his father's power once more to the ocean, feeling its vastness, depth, timelessness, and changing nature. Contradictions working in harmony.
And he asked if the water would let him through, not in words, but in intent.
He felt himself practically dissolve and then he was out at sea, so far he could just see Long Island in the distance.
For a moment, he blinked, processing what had just happened. It… it had worked! He laughed and dived under the ocean screaming in triumph. A wave shot out from around him, nothing too large or problematic, but still some way for him to show his excitement and triumph.
"Thanks, Dad!" he yelled under the water, knowing his father would hear him. And since it was his father's domain, none of the other gods should be able to. At least, not without his father having some inkling.
After swimming around happily for several moments, he finally realized how dark it had gotten, and his elation dimmed. He had to get back to camp. Which was fine, just more practice.
He closed his eyes and felt for the area of the beach he'd just come from, and then, once again, asked the water to let him through. One rushing sensation later, and he found himself knee-deep in the tide at the edge of the beach, facing the ocean.
Grinning from ear-to-ear, he pumped his fist, making sure to not be too loud this time as he didn't want to draw attention, and turned to head back to camp.
Before he'd taken a single step, he froze.
On the beach, standing still with arms crossed, stood an all-too-familiar figure glaring darkly. Percy's breath froze in his lungs, except for one word that croaked out of his throat.
"Luke…"
