Chapter Text
" she said I'm always welcome
to visit, to take second helpings,
I said no thanks, I'm so full on resentment
that I was left to fend for myself. "
"RACHEL IS DREAMING AGAIN."
Percy looks up at Chiron. The teenager is sitting at the edge of the lake, his feet in the water, his trousers rolled up, pretending to be doing his school work. Instead, he's watching the naiads across the lake play volleyball with seaweed. It's supposed to be his week off, and his mother and Paul are attending a writing conference in a different state, so he had driven himself to Camp for the break. It's not as restful and refreshing as he had hoped. He has too much work to do and too many memories following him to take a step back and relax.
The centaur looks old. Not aged - tired. The past half a decade or so has been rough on all of them, but in some ways, it's been even worse for the Camp's mentor. Chiron has lost campers that he saw grow and campers that never could. The safety of Camp sometimes seems more of facade some days, and the immortal being is often found, late at night, pacing the edge of the woods with his bow. Just in case the monster comes back again, like they did in the Battle of the Labyrinth. Rachel Elizabeth Dare and her dreaming probably hasn't made things easier. She isn't a bad person, or even a difficult one - if anything, she's generally the most stable person at Camp, even though she isn't around often. Percy has known her for years - longer than she has even known Annabeth - even before she became the Oracle. For the past few months, she has been at a finishing school bed father chose, but came back to Camp a few weeks ago - when her dreams had gotten so bad that she had sought out any and all help. More than once, she's come to him with warnings of whatever it is that she dreams about, and, more than once, he's seen her in his dreams. That's why she comes here sometimes, to the Camp, despite not needing to be here to survive. The forces that brought her to him also bring other, more dangerous, things to her. Like her dreams. Apparently, seeing through the Mist brings other aspects of that side of life to light. The Mist bleeds through into their soul, because if they aren't protected by the Mist then they aren't really protected by anything at all, and sometimes, other things take up residence in that space.
For his mother, it's accidentally having a summer fling with a God. For Rachel, it's complicated prophetic visions, ones that had begun before becoming the Oracle and occasionally being seized in her dreams by messages from the universe and the Fates, cryptic, unyielding, and often somewhat unhelpful. They never seem to make any sense to her, but sometimes, because of them, there are things that she just knows. Percy knows which one he would choose to have, and it isn't the dreams.
The last few months, however, since the whole Apollo debacle (which he shudders to remember), it seems to have gotten worse. Much worse. The most recent recurring dream had begun soon after Leo returned, and now she gets them almost every night. He thought that they had stopped in the last month or so, after her slightly insane trip to Boston, but apparently, they're back again, and they have become even more extreme.
As if the last few months haven't been complicated enough. Percy had hoped that they wouldn't get in to more trouble after the war, but apparently that's too much to want.
"Again?" He repeats slowly. "For how long?"
The centaur shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. She's probably had mild ones these last few days, mild enough to forget about. But tonight, it was a bad one. Ironic, isn't it? Her first day back at Camp, and she dreams so badly that she wakes up sickly and feverish." He sighs. "This place torments her now, I suppose. All of her times here have been marked by something. It's almost like she can slip out of reach, and then she has to visit, and whatever it is that is haunting her is able to find her all over again. Poor girl."
"She's not dying, Chiron. You know that this has gone on for longer than she's been here."
They both go quiet. Rachel isn't dead, and she isn't dying, but every time the mythological world finds her again - first with whatever she had been dreaming of before Camp, then with the Titan's Wad, and now this - the chance that it will kill her gets more and more likely. Percy worries for her sometimes. She isn't a part of this world, but it always finds her. And since he was the first to find her, it's like every time it finds her, it takes him, too. Whatever this dream is - whatever it is that she finds out - he has this sinking feeling that it's for him, too.
"Is it the same one?" Percy asks finally, somewhat subdued, after the silence stretches out a beat too long. The first time that he had found Rachel, he had almost killed her with his sword, mistaking her for a skeleton. She still uses it against him. The first time that he had actually seen her again after the Titans was when he came back to New York after the fight with the Giants - for no apparent reason at all - and saw her wandering around Central Park. That was over a year ago, and she had been dreaming then, too. It's exactly how she found him that night. This dream has been following her ever since - which means that it was started by meeting him - which means it just might be about him. The two of them are interconnected like that. It's pretty unfortunate, because they're both pretty unfortunate even without the whole interlinked mess.
She's never said that, but she doesn't talk about the dream anyway. Percy just isn't stupid.
Chiron sighs, his shoulders sinking. He knows it too. The same day that the two of them had interacted at Camp together, her dreams begin all over again, despite the month of silence since she departed back to school. "She wasn't quite able to tell me, considering that she was throwing up due to it, but I would assume so."
Percy raises an eyebrow. Rachel isn't sick very often - troubled, but not sick. "That bad?"
"That bad," he confirms, and then, seeing the look on the demigod's face, "I offered to call him. Those were words that I could understand when she spoke, and they were quite odious. She might do the research that she had considered when they begun."
"I thought that we all agreed that doing that was somewhat dangerous?"
"Rachel might be welcome here, but she is still, at her core, a mortal," Chiron reminds him gently. It's something that they all forget sometimes - that both Rachel and his mother will die before them. Demigods might not be immortal, but if they survive until adulthood, they live longer than normal humans. Not by much, but enough. "Our rules do not apply to her. The Gods cannot punish her for straying outside the Greco-Roman sphere."
"So she's going to leave?"
Chiron laughs a laugh that sounds surprisingly like a horse's huff. "She's not the kind of person to leave things bothering her. You know that. No one could keep her to one place."
Percy looks back down at his book. Here he is, memorising, and a girl younger than him is being tormented in her sleep. It feels comical, but he's survived a couple of wars in his time. There are other things that he can feel guilty about.
"Oh, and Percy?"
He glances upwards again.
"She told me to tell you one thing."
"What is it?"
"She told me to say: Percy, you are so fucked."
Sometimes, he wishes that he isn't right quite so often. This dream - it isn't for Rachel. It's for him.
IF THERE IS ONE THING THAT HE WANTS, IT IS A CHILD. He's had children before, of course, but it has been hundreds of years since anything other than monsters have been created. Even giving birth to other Gods and Goddesses has become a struggle for them. He misses having children - to care for, to protect, to nurture. He is a God. He should be able to do anything - and yet, humans outpace him (and the other immortals). They can have children, and he cannot.
Not all of the immortal beings want children, of course. But none of them can have them, and it's tormented them for most of their entire lives. In theory, having children with humans should be simple - but each attempt has led to failure. Another monster, or a stillborn, is what greets them each and every time. Not the half God, half human beings that should exist.
These children exist in every timeline but this one. He has dreamt of them before. He knows that they exist. They exist everywhere but here.
It was probably about seventy years ago that the Council first came up with the idea of meeting these children. In theory, timeline jumps are simple. The Fates govern them all - just because there are multiple version of Gods, it doesn't mean that it's same for the Moirai. There are only one set of Fates, looking after all of the universes, which means that there has to be some sort of connection through them to reach the other timelines. Things slip through the cracks all the time; the three sisters often nudge a little bit of Sight to people that aren't of mythological descent, sometimes accidentally. But when those gifted Sight are not given it by mistake, they often hold a little extra ability, like being given an extra blessing. (Something that they have also failed to do. They cannot even have children by proxy anymore.) Which means that, if these nudges can be manipulated just right, then they should be able to pull a little too, and bring them all over.
There will be a price, but it's a risk that they are willing to take.
He doesn't remember why they considered finding the children. Perhaps too many decades of desperation culminated into a plea to the universe. Whatever the reason, they chose to attempt. Just once - just one meeting. They just want to know.
After that, he has no idea what will happen. How can they gain their children, only to give them up afterwards? He isn't sure that they can survive that.
It's not like they can force the children. But a small nudge - temptation - even if only one stays, they will have a child. A child. The one thing that they wish for most.
In the last ten years, they had narrowed down their search to a specific thread. A specific universe. The Fates have warned them, time and time again, not to mess with their choices. Each time they pick apart another timeline to inspect it, they had stepped in, preventing them from pulling closer and meeting the young ones.
This timeline, however, the Moirai haven't raised any protests. It has been confusing at first, until they managed to invade the dreams of some of their alternates. There had been one singular, shocking piece of information that had been made clear to them.
They do not care for their children.
How could they have no care for their own offspring? He still does not understand. The one thing that he wishes for the most is the one thing that they can toss aside so carelessly. It's almost insulting.
It's also telling. The three sisters of Fate have not intervened to stop them from their search in this universe. He had called upon them, once, to question it.
We see many things, they had said with that same voiceless speech. We see everything. These children deserve a break. We have made it so. We did not stop you to keep the children. You stopped you so that you could find the right ones.
Fate is now on their side. It had energised them, had made the search easier for them all. Universe travel is hard. But for the Fates that oversee them all?
Not so hard.
The decision had been easy to make.
They will bring their children to them, and they will learn the lives that they should have been able to witness. The Fates had taken one look at them when they had declared it so, and had nodded, just once.
We will see it done as we wish, they had told them. It will begin when we are ready.
It has been five years since then. They've waited with anticipation, not patience. Each complaint seems to make the time longer, until they firmly decided to just shut up.
They day that it begins does not seem any different than the others, but something is. He knows it as soon as he wakes up, as soon as he steps over the threshold of the Throne Room, where all the Olympians (as well as Hades) are gathered in a small group by the hearth, whispering, hushed and anticipating, clutching books in their hands like they hold the secrets of the universe. Which, in a way, he supposes that they do, because this is the history of those children.
RACHEL'S DREAMS HAD BEGUN WHEN SHE WAS TWELVE YEARS OLD. She had spent her entire life seeing things that weren't there - shadows and other beings, things that she could never explain. Not that she ever tried to, of course. She would have sounded totally crazy.
It's been five years of insanity in her sleep, but the last year has been so much worse, and it had all begun with Percy Jackson.
She had met him when he was about to be pulled into a war. Probably not the best introduction, but it was certainly a memorable one. It had been those dreams that had connected her to him in the first place. It had been those dreams that had led her to Boston. And now it's those dreams that are warning her of what is coming next.
She does not know why she was chosen to see the things that she does, but she was, and now that she's been fully introduced to the mythological world, she needs to figure it out. The dreams themselves aren't even terrifying - they're just not from this world. They whisper in her ears, constantly reminding her that they are waiting. Not for her - but for the children.
There is a reason why she has not told Percy. It's already too late for him. He will be the first that Fate take. The three sisters tell her that much when she meets him at Camp. Not with words - but with sight. They're preparing for something.
Rachel doesn't know what is going to happen. That's the other reason why she hasn't said anything. It's something about the past and it's something about the future. Dreams are pretty confusing. Really, there's only one thing that she can say. It's more of a feeling than actually dreaming of something solid, and she doesn't dream of everything. She didn't even really know what would happen after Apollo ascended again. She had thought that it was over, when the dreams stopped, but, well, apparently the war wasn't the only warning her dreams were giving her.
"I need you to pass on a message," she tells Chiron.
"What is it?"
"Percy is fucked."
IT'S A TUESDAY WHEN HE VANISHES. It's really sad that this isn't the first time that he's been picked up by a God and placed in a completely separate area, but this time, it's a little different.
Percy goes to bed after his talk with Chiron and a long day of pretending to do things, passes out immediately, which is somewhat unusual, and wakes up with dread in his soul and resignation in his bones, which is his default state when on a quest, which is also unusual, because, obviously, he is not on a quest. His luck is so bad that it simply cannot be real.
To make matters worse, he isn't in even his cabin when he comes to. Instead, he finds himself flat on his back (like a cartoon vampire) on an entirely different bed. Everything is white - the sheets, the mattress cover, the pillows - even the curtains that are pinned back and framing the singular window. The room itself is illuminated in the gold of the sun - it's mid morning, on a clear day. It smells like lavender and honey. Wherever he has been placed, it's empty - just the bed and the window, not even a desk or a wardrobe. He doesn't like that very much. It's silent, too. He likes that even less.
Percy sits up. He's still in the same clothes that he had gone to bed in, which is a relief. This doesn't seem to be the same thing as the Hera situation, when he hadn't even had shoes.
But what is it? Where is he? Why is he here? And, more importantly, because he has no recollection of arriving, how is he here?
He clambers to his feet and checks his pocket for Riptide. Thankfully, the pen is still with him, but he doesn't uncap it - not yet. Instead, he grips it in one hand, and pulls the door to the room open with his other. It's not locked. Percy isn't sure if that is a good sign or not.
The corridor that greets his is empty, but also familiar - it's made of the same marble as Olympus. That's suspicious. That's weird.
It looks like Olympus, but older, and it also can't be Olympus, because the Olympians would summon him directly, not by kidnapping. The Olympians don't like him enough to summon him at all.
That leaves him with one working theory. Well, two, actually. The first one is that he's been kidnapped in his sleep, without anyone noticing, likely by a magical being, and is being held in a place designed to look like Olympus. The second one is dream transportation, which pretty much takes the first theory and applies it to astral projection.
He taps a wall as he passes. It feels pretty real, so it's probably not astral projection. Bummer. All he would have to do to fight that would be to wake up.
Because it seems like he's trapped somewhere unknown, he follows his gut instinct, which unluckily leads him further in to the building, not towards the exit, because it never does. Instead, it leads him further down the familiar halls to an even more familiar door. Percy uncaps Riptide, and pushes the door open.
What he sees is not what he expected.
To be fair, he isn't sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't the Olympians (and Hades) standing at one end of the grand Throne Room, staring at him with an expression that really isn't their usual disgusted one.
The Gods are in their human form, but they do not look human. Obviously - they're Gods - but their human form that he is used to is different somehow. They have too many teeth when he can only see them in his peripheral vision, which are sharp and animalistic. Their skin is too healthy, their hair too neat, too much white in their eyes. That, more than their fixed gaze, is terrifying.
The one that looks like his father steps forward, his trident in hand and his voice carrying. It's uncanny, the way it looks like a reflection of Poseidon. "Are you the child known as Perseus Jackson?"
Child? I'm nineteen.
"That's my name, don't wear it out," he forces himself to say, squeezing the hilt of Riptide tighter. "I'm afraid I don't know yours, though."
"You do not recognise me?" The not-his-father raises one immaculate eyebrows, something stormy in his eyes. This is definitely not a safe area.
"I don't think you're the person I recognise you as."
One of them snorts and mutters, "perceptive thing, isn't he?" It's probably a not-Ares. It sounds a little like Ares.
Not-Poseidon smiles slowly. "Yes, they said that this would worry you," he murmurs. The smile is unsettling. His top teeth press into his lips, turning them bloodless (ichor-less), although they look more like fangs than teeth. It's probably meant to calm him.
Percy does not feel very calm.
"Mind letting me in on the secret?" He asks tightly, and shifts on his feet a little, to regain his balance. The atmosphere should be tenser than it actually is.
"You are correct, I am not your Poseidon father," the man allows. "I am, however, Poseidon. An alternate universe Poseidon."
Percy stares. "...you've got to be shitting me."
They are unfortunately not shitting him. This is an alternate universe. He's been kidnapped by the Fates to sit around in an alternate universe.
(Like, what does that even mean?)
And, to make it all worse - he isn't just in a different universe, he is also in a different time. He's in the before common era time of history, which is a pretty large range, but history has never been his strong point anyway.
("But what about my universe?" Percy had asked blankly - he can't afford any more misses says of school.
"The Fates are handling it," had been the simple reply, which was more than slightly worrying, because, so far, the Fates handling it has led to a lot of trouble in his life.
"Handling it how?" He pushes.
"Just handling it."
Frustrating beings. All Gods are irritating, it seems.)
Unfortunately, it gets worse. (Everything about this is unfortunate, apparently.) The Gods (and Goddesses, to be inclusive) of this universe cannot have children that are not monsters. The alternative Gods had gotten quiet then, almost sad, although Percy still isn't sure that immortals can feel much of anything at all. Due to their lack of children, which are apparently the only thing that they desire (probably because, again, they are the only thing that they cannot have), they had instead searched through timelines and universes until they found one that the Moirai did not prevent them from accessing.
Which is his universe. The doppelganger Gods found his universe.
And then it gets even worse, because they're invested. Their words, not his. Percy isn't sure exactly what they mean, and he isn't sure that he wants to, but that investment has led to this entire situation.
So. The Gods can't have children. The Gods want children. The Gods find children. And the Fates intervene.
"They said you would not speak freely to us, and so we found a way to understand you and your history without it," alternate Hermes says simply, as if it isn't the most invasive and creepy thing that they could have done. In his hand is a book. There are apparently other books. "This is what the three sisters told us that we must do - the only way that they would allow us to contact you."
"The only way?"
"Yes. The only way. To meet you, we had to have a cause; to bring you here, there has to be a price."
"And the cause is...?"
Hermes blinks slowly at him, like Percy is an idiot, which is mildly offensive, because the Hermes that he knows acts a bit dumb at times too. Not, like, intellectually dumb, but he certainly acts less aloof than this alternative universe version. "The cause is to understand you, and for you to connect more deeply with your own," he tells him. "They shall come when their time is right."
Percy stares a little more. Sighs again. Puts Riptide away, because he's probably not getting out of this. "And the price?"
"Unnamed."
Joy.
"Right," he decides. He'll play along and then get out of here as quickly as humanly possible (ironic, considering he's half human, and everyone else in this room is immortal, but oh well) without them noticing. "Lets get this over with, then, why don't we?"