18k!! tysm!
i looked at so many different sites for the greeklish/transliterations in this chapter and very few were consistent, so i'm sure there will be some errors—please feel free to correct them in the comments!
slight edit: july 8, 2021
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Tyson looks around him at the streets of Washington, D.C., with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth. (Y/N) chuckles from behind him as he spins around slowly while walking, taking everything in. "This might be the most fun I've ever had!" he tells Percy, who takes a sip of his latte. "Like, ever, ever."
"That's good!" (Y/N) says, earning a glance of disapproval from Annabeth beside her.
Percy nods, trying to make conversation although he isn't sure if he really wants to. "Yeah, well, anything's got to be better than being homeless, right?"
Annabeth scowls at Percy's attempted friendliness, falling back to keep some space between herself and the Cyclops, and (Y/N) sighs quietly before doing the same. Grover walks behind them as he tries to keep up with his crutches, and Annabeth grips her cup tighter when Tyson smiles at his brother.
"The alleys would have been fine if you were there," Tyson says, and Percy looks ahead of him once more to try and escape the awkwardness he feels rising. "I had this- this box, you know? It was actually pretty comfortable, and I wouldn't have minded sharing. I could've just found another, too. But, you know, everything's better with a brother!"
(Y/N) folds her lips inward in anticipation as she eavesdrops onto their conversation, waiting for Percy to say something. He takes a moment of hesitation before speaking, trying to tone down Tyson's excitement. "You- you know, technically, we don't have the same mom, so—"
"So we're still brothers!" Tyson interrupts, misinterpreting Percy's words. "I know! How cool is that?"
(Y/N) holds back a chuckle at Percy's uncomfortable response:
"Arctic."
The group passes by an alleyway, and (Y/N)'s stomach begins to twist. She slows her pace, falling behind Annabeth to walk just ahead of Grover, her muscles tensing.
Oblivious, Annabeth takes another sip of her latte before scrunching up her nose. She looks down at her cup, holding it out slightly. "It's too sweet, don't you think?"
Percy turns around to walk backwards, giving Annabeth a shrug. He glances at the slowly-walking (Y/N) in confusion before shaking it off and facing forward once more, staying alert just in case.
"Nah," Grover says in response to Annabeth's question, and the hair on (Y/N)'s neck lifts on end. "Nectar's never too sweet."
(Y/N) walks even slower, falling behind Grover and brushing a hand over the pommel of her sword. She blurs the surrounding environment from her consciousness, focusing all her senses on where she cannot see. The sound of crutches is muted by the faint scuffling of hurried footsteps from behind her, her friends' conversations by the quiet rustles of clothing.
She grits her teeth, continuing to walk and listening intently as they stop.
"Shit," she hears, unable to pinpoint the voice to a specific person.
Casually, she kneels down, fiddling with the laces of one of her combat boots while continuing to listen.
She tilts her head up, watching and thanking the gods that her friends have kept walking without taking notice of her actions. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, she switches the leg bent in front of her, undoing the laces on the shoe and retying them at a painstakingly slow pace.
"We can't grab him with her there," a different voice from the first says, and a third follows:
"Just wait until the next alley."
(Y/N) freezes, full of shock and fear.
"We got another man ready for 'em," Chris Rodriguez, son of Hermes, finishes. (Y/N)'s eyes widen when she looks up to see her friends and Tyson walking past that very alleyway, and she fills with dread.
Planning to deal with these demigods later, she jumps up and sprints forward, ignoring the three pairs of pounding footsteps that follow behind her. "No, look out!" she yells, and Percy instantly turns around at her terrified voice.
His eyes widen when a tall figure bursts out of the alley, wrapping his arms around the lagging Grover and pulling him farther away from their group.
"Get off me!" Grover yells, frantically elbowing at the man. "Get off me!"
Percy throws his cup to the side as he and Tyson run forward, and he digs into his pocket for Riptide. Annabeth rushes to her best friend, "Grover!"
Two of the demigods push (Y/N) to the side from behind her as she nears the man holding Grover, and she stumbles at the contact, reaching out for the street lamp next to her. Gripping one of its grooves between her fingers, she swings her body around it to kick a demigod in the chest as the other shoves Annabeth away from Grover.
Annabeth hits the ground with a quiet cry of pain as her ankle twists, her wrist bending awkwardly as she falls, and Tyson runs over to help her (much to her dismay, she actually needs it). Knowing Annabeth will be fine, (Y/N) drops onto her feet, instantly moving to the four demigods who drag Grover into the shade of the alleyway.
Grover stomps on the foot of the man who holds him, taking advantage of his loosened grip and using his crutch as a weapon. He swings it at the man's stomach before his neck, yelling out again when Chris runs forward. He pins Grover's arms to his sides, preventing him from landing a strike on the original assailant. The other three grab on, restraining the satyr further as (Y/N) runs into the alley.
Percy follows right behind, noticing the group of five appear to almost vibrate as Chris' eyes are screwed closed in concentration. "(Y/N)! Percy!" Grover yells, eyes wide with fear as Chris focuses even more, their forms blurring quickly—too quickly.
(Y/N) unsheathes the dagger at her thigh, tossing it up into the air and catching it by the blade. As she throws it forward in a last-ditch attempt to buy time, she sees the face of the tallest demigod properly.
She doesn't hear the shout of pain as her dagger buries itself into one of the men's arms, staring with horror at the half-blood standing next to the one that holds her best friend.
He grins at her, his dark eyes glinting with victory.
The group of five vanishes in an instant, pulling (Y/N) out of her moment of shock.
Grover's crutch hits the ground, and Percy halts in his tracks. "Damn it!" he curses.
(Y/N) groans in frustration, turning to the side to face the wall. "Fuck!" she yells, hitting the bricks with the side of her fist.
Annabeth and Tyson jog up to the two, trying to catch their breath. "Was that Chris Rodriguez?" Annabeth asks, and (Y/N) hears the hidden pain in Annabeth's voice.
She quickly turns around to see her best friend hugging her right arm close to her chest, her wrist bent at a strange angle. Her eyes move down, seeing how Annabeth stands with all her weight on her left leg, her right just resting on its toes. "Annie, you're hurt," (Y/N) breathes out, stepping forward and taking Annabeth's arm.
"So are you," Percy says, moving towards her when he sees the bloody slice across her palm.
(Y/N) shakes her head, looking at Annabeth's wrist. "I'm fine, I'm fine." She carefully presses on the skin near Annabeth's bone, earning a soft whimper.
"Don't- don't worry about it," Annabeth tries to brush off, and (Y/N) scoffs.
"Well, aren't you a hypocrite," she mumbles, looking behind her to the dark corners of the alley.
Her eyes glaze over, distant and unthinking.
With a simple tilt of her head, shadows extend towards their group like ropes twisting together, and Tyson backs away with slight fear.
Percy watches as the shadows wrap around Annabeth's wrist and ankle like bandages, remaining for a second before receding. His eyebrows lift in surprise as she moves them without pain.
"How—?"
"Persephone," (Y/N) distractedly answers Percy's breathless question, looking down at her palm as thin threads of darkness seem to stitch her skin back together.
Percy blinks, suddenly growing even more frustrated. "And why have you never done that before?"
(Y/N) looks up, a flash of hurt passing over her face at his tone. It fades instantly, and she rolls her eyes before looking away.
"I- isn't Persephone the spring goddess?" Tyson asks hesitantly, growing more comfortable when the shadows begin their return to the back of the alley.
(Y/N) sighs, rubbing the skin of her healed injury and looking over at the crutch on the concrete. "She's the queen of the Underworld, too. It comes with the whole package."
Tyson nods, following her eye. "How did they do that?" he asks, and Annabeth looks at (Y/N).
"It couldn't be shadow travel, could it?" she asks, and (Y/N) shakes her head.
"Super speed," she answers, scoffing lightly. "Luke would always brag to me about how he was fast enough to run on air and essentially teleport himself places. It seems that Chris inherited the same ability."
"Only it's not as strong," Percy says, trying to catch his breath, "because Luke did it in front of me at camp. Chris was struggling."
(Y/N) nods, glancing at Percy briefly, "It's rare."
Tyson steps forward, looking at the trio in confusion. "Why did they take him?" he asks, worried for one of the few in their group that welcomed him without question.
Percy shakes his head, the pieces beginning to fall together. "Back... back at camp, Luke said that there were other half-bloods who turned."
Annabeth hugs her arms to her for stability, furrowing her eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'turned'?"
(Y/N) grits her teeth, tugging on her leather jacket's zipper. "To his side," she says when she comes to the realization, trying to keep her composure.
Percy slowly turns to look at the three remaining in their group, locking eyes nervously with (Y/N). "Luke has Grover," he breathes out, and (Y/N) nods in reluctant confirmation.
Annabeth groans, leaning back against the wall and covering her face with her hands. "Could this get any worse?" she asks, her voice slightly muffled.
(Y/N) sighs before speaking. "You know I love being a shining ray of positivity, right?"
Annabeth drops her hands, looking at (Y/N) with dread. "Don't say it."
Gut sinking, Percy frowns. "What do you know, (Y/N)?"
Tyson simply looks between the three, fiddling with the straps on his backpack.
"Luke doesn't just have Chris' support," (Y/N) says, her words slow and weighted with regret. She looks back at the crutch, the man's face flashing once again in her mind. "He has Evander's, too."
Percy and Tyson furrow their eyebrows in confusion at the name, but Annabeth lets out another groan, this one louder than the last. She slides down to the ground, burying her face into her knees and muffling a scream.
(Y/N) sighs. "I feel ya."
Percy stares at the girls in concern, glancing at his half-brother as he leans forward.
"Do you know what's going on?" Tyson whispers, and Percy shakes his head.
"Are you sure?" Annabeth asks, not even lifting her head.
(Y/N) rubs the bridge of her nose, nodding. "He looked me in the eye," she says, and Annabeth wraps her arms around her legs tighter.
Again, she screams, and Percy jumps in surprise.
Tyson inches away, hoping to stay out of her frustration and avoid any potential repercussions that may arise from interfering. Percy turns to (Y/N), and his stomach twists when he sees the guilt in her expression.
He knows that she blames herself for what just happened, and he wishes he could apologize for snapping at her before, but now isn't the time for him to comfort her.
"Look, who- who is this guy?" he asks, and (Y/N) drops her hand.
"Evander," she starts, leaning back against the wall and tilting her head down to look at her shoes as she kicks a pebble, "is the son of Eurus."
"He's a real, fucking bastard who deserves to rot in the Fields of Punishment, is what he is," Annabeth grumbles into her knees, and (Y/N) points at her in agreement.
"That. He's the guy I rescued Hesperos from."
Percy's eyes widen, "He's that guy?"
(Y/N) lifts her head to look at him. "Yep."
Percy crosses his arms, Riptide loosely hanging in his grip. "No wonder he joined Luke; he's probably a serial killer."
"We're dealing with a serial killer?" Tyson asks, his voice a high-pitched squeak.
"You know, it's scientifically proven with people who mistreat animals, so we actually might be," Annabeth says, making Tyson go pale.
(Y/N) sighs, pushing herself away from the wall. "Hush, Annie. We're not dealing with a serial killer."
Tyson lets out a huge breath of relief.
(Y/N) looks over at Tyson, who fills with dread at her words. "But, as we need to be realistic, here's the situation: we're dealing with a maniac who wants to destroy the godly hierarchy, who just joined forces with another maniac who also wants to destroy the godly hierarchy."
"And if the godly hierarchy is destroyed, then Olympus is likely to follow with the world being next in line," Annabeth finishes.
Tyson whimpers.
Percy lets out a bland cheer, holding out his arms in feigned enthusiasm. "Fantastic," he says, letting Riptide return into its pen form and putting it back in his pocket. "What do we do now?"
"Well, since that's yet to be decided—" The daughter of Persephone walks over to Annabeth, offering her hands to her best friend. Annabeth looks up from her knees, sighing in resignation before grabbing onto (Y/N)'s hands and allowing herself to be pulled up from the ground. "—let's figure it out."
The words are strangely familiar to what Annabeth had said two years ago when the quartet was in Hades' dungeon, and Grover's response to them floods Percy's memory. 'Wow. So inspiring.'
He chuckles quietly while looking over to (Y/N), whose hint of a smile proves that she remembers the moment, too. It makes him even more determined to get his best friend back, and he gestures for Tyson to join the group as the girls walk out of the alley.
(Y/N) leads a dejected Annabeth to the steps leading up to a nearby bank, and they sit down to brainstorm. Tyson pushes himself up onto the staircase railing, kicking his legs back and forth, and Percy sits next to (Y/N).
"So," she starts, rubbing her hands on her jeans, "what do we know?"
Percy sighs, shrugging. "The Oracle was right. Luke's going after the Fleece."
"That's why he needs a satyr," (Y/N) nods in understanding, earning a sigh from Annabeth.
"But what does Luke want with the Fleece, anyway?" she asks, and Percy shakes his head.
"I don't know," he admits, looking down at his hands and wringing them together.
"And that's not important at the moment," (Y/N) says, trying to keep everyone on the right page. "What we need to figure out is where Grover's been taken. We'll deal with the rest later. Right now, we find Grover. That takes us to Luke. Then we focus on finding out whatever's necessary about Luke and the Fleece."
Tyson tilts his head at the three half-bloods, seemingly more aware of their dilemma than the others are. "Can I just get this straight?" he starts, his legs going still as he concentrates. "We need to find Grover. We also need to stop Luke. We don't know where Luke is, so if we find Grover, who's been taken by Luke, then we find Luke. But since we don't know where Grover is, we need to find the people who took him, which is Luke's band of bad guys, who'll have regrouped with Luke at this point. So in order to find Luke, we need to find Grover, and in order to find Grover, we need to find Luke."
Percy groans at the realization. "And we don't know where he is," he resignedly breathes out, his shoulders slumped.
Annabeth perks up as she looks ahead of her, watching a mail delivery truck pass by on the street. (Y/N) notices the shift in her mood, glancing at her and waiting for her best friend to connect the dots only she apparently can see.
Annabeth figures it out within a second.
"I know someone who does," she says, jumping to her feet and slinging her bag onto her shoulder. "Come on!"
Percy and Tyson look at (Y/N) for explanation as Annabeth begins running off, and the girl just shrugs before hurriedly getting up and following her best friend. The boys take a moment to comprehend what just happened before snapping out of it, adjusting their backpacks and running after them.
"Hold on!"
"Hurry up!"
Percy scoffs at (Y/N)'s words, picking up his pace. He and Tyson soon fall into step beside Annabeth and (Y/N), and the group slows to a light jog as a UPS store comes into view.
"There," Annabeth says, quickly glancing to either side before crossing the street and stopping in front of the building with the other three just behind her.
Percy furrows his eyebrows. "What, are we shipping ourselves overnight express to the Sea of Monsters?"
(Y/N) chuckles at his sarcasm, making him glance at her with a smile.
Annabeth rolls her eyes lightly. "You wanna find Luke? His dad will know where he is," she says.
(Y/N)'s amusement instantly leaves, and she groans. "Dude, I don't like Hermes," she complains.
"I don't like him either, but he's our best bet," Annabeth responds, making (Y/N) pout and stick her hands into her jacket pockets.
"Do we have to?"
Annabeth raises an eyebrow at her best friend, who grumbles incoherently in response, toeing the ground. Annabeth and Tyson walk to the shop doors, and Percy steps over to (Y/N), lightly chuckling as she finishes pouting like an annoyed child. They both look up at the sign on the front of the building, watching as the letters shuffle around from a plain and boring 'The UPS Store' to 'The OPS Store' with a brand-new logo.
"Olympic Parcel Service," Annabeth explains, starting to open the door. "Come on." She and Tyson walk inside, but the other two remain where they are.
"Did Hermes seriously restrict his trademark on this thing?" Percy asks, looking at the '®' at the end of the words.
"Seems like it," (Y/N) shrugs, sharing an amused glance with him before they enter. The sounds of passing cars and talking pedestrians are replaced by a soft whir of air conditioning and the bustling of very few customers.
Percy's eyes are drawn to a middle-aged man talking to an elderly woman at the front desk, and he catches onto some of their conversation.
"—like it? He'll love it. Yes, Hephaestus does do quality work. Everyone else these days, hacks."
"Um, excuse me?" Annabeth interrupts as the demigods approach the counter behind the lady. "We're looking for Hermes."
The man looks up, frowning at Annabeth. "Yeah, I'm sorry to state the obvious, but I- I'm talking to a customer." His gaze shifts over to (Y/N), who steps out from the back of the group with a raised eyebrow.
Hermes' eyes widen, and he stammers, his next few words slightly higher-pitched than normal. "But I will be with you very shortly!" he says, and (Y/N) nods.
Percy chuckles, discreetly giving her a fist bump as Hermes starts talking in rapid-fire to the old lady. "All right, you wanted overnight shipment to Hades; that'll be two hundred and fifty drachmae." He holds his hand out, taking the small pouch of coins and looking through it. "Perfect; thank you, thank you, thank you. I will take care of that for you, and I'll see you next week!" he says, refraining from shooing the lady away so he doesn't annoy a particular half-blood.
"Now," he starts, lifting the large golden shield for shipping off of the counter and setting it to the side, "you four. You're here about Hermes?"
(Y/N) furrows her eyebrows at the god, sending him a look that asks, 'Really?'.
Hermes gives her an almost-imperceptible shrug, silently responding with, 'Why not?' and making (Y/N) roll her eyes in slight amusement. Annabeth, however, remains oblivious, and she steps forward.
"Um, his son, actually," she says. "It's kind of important."
(Y/N) decides to watch and wait for the other three to realize it.
"Yeah, yeah, I could tell by the way you burst in here all rude-like," Hermes says, stepping away from the counter and turning around to rifle through a few boxes.
Percy moves to stand next to Annabeth, and (Y/N) folds her lips inward with anticipation. "His son's name is Luke Castellan," Percy says, and Hermes freezes.
His smile falls, and he sighs. "Oh, what has that wayward boy of mine gotten himself into now?" he mumbles, and Annabeth's eyes widen.
"Of course!" she breathes out, pointing at him as he turns around, "You changed your appearance, you're—"
"—Hermes!" he interrupts, his energetic attitude returned as though it never left. "Little insulted you didn't recognize me. Little afraid that you did," he points at (Y/N), who chuckles. Hermes shrugs, walking around the counter and across the room. The group turns to look at him as he keeps speaking, and (Y/N) rolls her eyes while he rambles.
"My feelings might have even been hurt, if I wasn't such a self-confident individual. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm killing these shorts—"
"Sir, we're looking for Luke because he attacked Camp Half-Blood and kidnapped our friend," Percy says, and (Y/N) steps forward to stand next to him.
"And we really need your help because we don't have a lot of time," she finishes, making Hermes look between the two.
"That's... really cute, how you finish each other's sentences," he says, a small smile on his face. (Y/N) and Percy glance at each other before returning their attention to the god in front of them. (Y/N)'s eyes flash expectantly to the small plaque on the door behind Hermes, the letters translating from 'Μόνο Εργαζόμενοι' to 'Employees Only'.
A moment of silence passes before Hermes turns to the door, gesturing at the four demigods. "Follow!"
He pushes the door open, revealing the boxes and assembly lines of a huge packaging factory, evidently added into the otherwise small shop with some type of magic. When Hermes steps through the doorway, his uniform of a black polo and khaki shorts changes into a pressed suit, his sneakers instantly turn into polished dress shoes, and his hair becomes slicked back more neatly. Annabeth and Tyson look around in awe of the place as (Y/N) and Percy spare the factory a few glances before Hermes speaks.
"You like this tie?" he asks, fiddling with the golden-colored fabric and walking backwards, "I just bought it. Hermés, of course." He holds out his hand, and a factory worker passes over a silver caduceus. "Thank you. Check it out. State-of-the-art sorting, processing, and packaging facility." Hermes gestures at the factory before walking properly, the teenagers following behind. "If you can box it, we can ship it, at the speed of... well, me."
(Y/N) rolls her eyes at the god's arrogance, but Hermes remains unaware of her annoyance. "We have plans to expand next year," he continues, and Percy raises his eyebrows in skepticism. "We're finding we have some space issues, so picture this, only... bigger."
Tyson reaches out to push a tempting red button, only for Hermes to snap his fingers and point at him. "Don't touch that," the god says, and Tyson instantly retracts his hand, jogging to keep up with Hermes' long strides. Annabeth lets out a quiet scoff, walking faster.
"We're the fastest-growing Olympian industry. Took a while to get up and running, but Rome wasn't built in a day. Trust me, I was there."
"Yeah, and you created a cult while you were at it," (Y/N) mumbles, and Hermes raises his eyebrows at her in surprise before shaking it off.
Percy quickens his pace, coming to a stop beside the god. "Excuse me, sir, but we're in a bit of a hurry."
Hermes looks down at the boy, lightly setting the base of his staff on the floor. "Relax, my friend. Take it slow."
(Y/N) scoffs.
"Oh, come on!" a male voice rings out, and Percy furrows his eyebrows. "Give me a break!"
Hermes just sighs.
"Yeah, easy for you to say, Your Eminence," a female voice follows the first, and (Y/N)'s eyes move down to the source with slight surprise. Annabeth looks around in confusion as Tyson refrains from jumping in fear.
"Ha!" the male voice says, and (Y/N) holds back her chuckles. "Actually, Martha, it's not easy for him. He's the god of freakin' speed."
Percy looks down at Hermes' caduceus, eyes widening in shock when the two silver snakes wrapped around the staff are no longer silver nor completely made of metal. The teal-colored snake, apparently named Martha, hisses at its red-and-yellow counterpart, and Percy's eyebrows raise in amusement.
"At least he's not the one with his butt stuck to a big silver stick forever!"
Hermes holds up his staff, looking at the snakes. "Hey, hey, hey, guys, what did I say?" he asks, making the creatures look at him. "When we meet new people, protract your 'S's. It's more dramatic. Makes-s-s an impression."
(Y/N) and Annabeth try to contain their laughter as Martha lets out a dramatic gasp. "I'm personally insulted. Snakes don't talk like that! It is a stereotype, and it is offensive."
"Go off, Martha," (Y/N) says, nodding, and the teal snake looks at her.
"Thank you! See, George, she gets it!" Martha turns back to the other snake, who turns to Percy, almost hitting him in the face.
"Mm-hmm!" George responds, making Percy slightly flinch away. "It's bad enough some of our relatives are hanging out with Medusa, turning people to stone!"
Percy just nods, unsure whether he should tell the snakes that those relatives were probably killed (or, technically, partially-killed and then preserved in his mother's freezer) by him two years ago.
"Ooh!" Martha exclaims, stretching her body as far as possible while attached to the staff so she can look at Tyson. "I love your hair! I wish my hair would do that."
Tyson smiles, flattered, reaching up to play with some of the frizzy strands as George looks at a very much hairless Martha.
"Yeah, like that'll happen," George says. He looks at Annabeth's dusty pink jacket before his own red scales, somewhat bobbing his body up and down as though nodding in approval.
Martha looks at (Y/N) again, gasping as a soft glimmer catches her eye. "That's such a beautiful necklace!" she gushes, and (Y/N) looks down at the seashell with a smile.
"Oh, thank you, it's my favorite one," she says, lightly brushing her fingers against it.
Percy's cheeks grow slightly warm, and he tries to hide his smile.
"Look, um, why don't you guys make yourselves useful?" Hermes asks while pulling the caduceus away and making the snakes give him their attention. "Demi-Google Luke for me; these kids are looking for him."
"Uh, why?" Martha asks, turning to Annabeth and Tyson in concern.
George looks between (Y/N) and Percy, "Do they have a death wish?"
(Y/N) shrugs with nonchalance, and Percy lightly slaps her arm in disapproval.
Hermes waves over a worker, looking back to the snakes. "Doesn't matter. Just do it." He hands the caduceus to the worker, and Martha scoffs as they get transported away from the group.
"Didn't even say 'please'."
"Told you!" George says. "We should have taken a job with Hercules."
Hermes clasps his hands together in front of him, looking at Annabeth and Tyson to his right. "An acquired taste," he brushes off, starting to lead the teenagers forward once more. "So, Luke. I don't know what to do about him. I mean, I've tried reaching out, but the kid's angry, he's resentful. And he holds a grudge like nobody's business."
"I wonder why," (Y/N) deadpans, and Hermes turns to her.
"Right! I don't get it!" he says, facing forward. "He's just like his mother, come to think of it."
(Y/N) grits her teeth in frustration. "No, it's not like you tried to kill him or anything because you knew he'd turn against you, therefore causing him to hate you and actually turn against you."
"Absolutely not," Annabeth adds, bitterly remembering what happened when (Y/N) tried to lead her, Thalia, and Luke away from the city and to Camp Half-Blood for the first time.
Hermes sighs in resignation, approaching a conveyor belt and watching as the boxes pass by. Annabeth and Tyson walk up to stand on his right while Percy and (Y/N) stop at his left, and Hermes hums in thought as boxes pass by. "Okay, well, if you're bound to cross paths, or, Zeus forbid, swords with him," he starts, grabbing a fairly small box, "it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to have a thing or two to help you out."
He reaches inside, pulling out a thermos container before carelessly tossing the empty box behind him. He turns, presenting it for Annabeth and Tyson to look at. "The Thermos of Winds. Collector's item; in mint condition," he says, looking down at it fondly. "From Hercules Busts Heads, season one."
Tyson leans forward slightly, his voice laced with amusement. "Hercules Busts... wha—Heads?" he asks for confirmation, and Hermes nods.
"Best T.V. show ever, so, of course... canceled."
Percy looks at (Y/N) with concern as Hermes goes quiet, staring ahead of him as though in a daze. Soon enough, the god snaps out of it, looking back down at the Thermos. "Got this off Deity-Bay," he explains, looking at Annabeth once more. "You twist the cap off of this, you release the winds from the four corners of the Earth. Comes with a nifty lil' compass in the lid, too."
Hermes hands the Thermos to Annabeth, who looks at it with intrigue. The god turns to (Y/N) and Percy, "Now, you tell me that isn't cool."
Hermes turns around at the sound of metal upon metal, jumping up in fear and screaming when he sees Annabeth unscrewing the cap. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, no! No! Not in here!" he exclaims, snatching the Thermos out of her hands and tightening it closed, "Not in here."
Annabeth lifts her hands in apology, and Hermes shakes his head. "By the gods, George was right, you do have a death wish." He gives the Thermos back to Annabeth, turning around to speak to Percy. "Now, you're also—"
Hermes swivels as he hears Annabeth's hand touch the lid (just to hold it, she wasn't going to be stupid again), and she widens her eyes at him in annoyance while moving it to the base. Hermes watches her in silence for a few seconds to make sure she won't try and open it again, looking back to the other two half-bloods when he's finished reassuring himself about Annabeth's commitment to keeping the lid screwed closed.
"—you're also gonna want one of these," he tells Percy, clapping his hands twice. Percy takes a step back in surprise, reflexively holding his arm out in front of (Y/N) as a metal claw drops down in front of them. Hermes reaches out to take the object it holds, and the claw retracts back up to the ceiling.
(Y/N) raises an eyebrow at the packaging tape dispenser, and Percy looks at Hermes, hoping the god isn't joking as he unsurely picks up the item. "Um, thanks," he says, and (Y/N) chuckles at his tone. "Mythical box sealer?" Percy forces a smile before it falls, and Hermes looks at the boy in disappointment.
"You wound me. Truly, I am wounded," he says, taking the dispenser out of Percy's hands and holding it up. "I hold in my hands... a Matter Eliminator. Trademark pending."
Hermes turns to Annabeth and Tyson, holding out the dispenser. "Anything you outline with this—not in here," he whispers in warning to Annabeth (who rolls her eyes while taking it) before looking back to Percy, "—will disappear. Gone. Fwoosh. Instant hole."
Percy nods, impressed, and Hermes looks at (Y/N) in the hopes that she is, too. She is not, and he turns away in slight fear just as George's voice nears.
"'Demi-Google Luke,' he said. Oh, okay, except how am I supposed to type without fingers?" George asks, his and Martha's caduceus being carried over to Hermes by the same worker from before.
"You were supposed to use the mouse!" Martha retorts, and George groans in annoyance.
"I'm a snake," he says, looking at (Y/N) as though for support. "I eat mice!"
"All right, all right, thank you," Hermes says, taking his staff back in hand and prompting the snakes to look at him. "Have you found Luke?"
"Did he just say 'thank you'?" George asks.
"I'm sure it was just a lapse," Martha says, directing her next words to Percy. "Luke's on a yacht called the Andromeda."
"The Princess Andromeda," George corrects.
"Shut up, George. My goodness," Martha sighs in exasperation, turning back to Percy. "It's passing by Chesapeake Beach as we speak."
Percy nods, "Thank you."
"You're s-s-s-so welcome!" George says, immediately looking at Hermes. "There, you happy?"
Hermes rolls his eyes, "Yeah, so... hush." He waves his hand at the snakes, and the color fades from their scales as they return back to their metal forms around the staff.
"Thank you very much," Percy says, holding out his hand for Hermes to shake. The god takes it, glancing behind him at Annabeth and Tyson before back at the other two half-bloods.
"Actually, you two, just stay for a moment, would ya?" he starts, and Annabeth gestures for Tyson to follow her as she walks away so as to not infringe upon a private conversation. "Percy, look, if you do see Luke, please explain to him from me that, uh... parents, we make mistakes sometimes."
Percy glances down at his feet as Hermes continues, "I mean, he has every right to be angry at me, as do you, (Y/N)." The girl's expression remains unfazed as Hermes glances at her, and the god sighs before focusing again on Percy. "Just... please tell him not to be angry with the world."
Percy meets Hermes' eye, gently shaking his head. "I'm not sure if there's anything I can say that will change him."
"Try." Hermes doesn't falter, and (Y/N) relaxes slightly at his next words. "At the very least, please... try. If it's one thing I've learned in three thousand years, it's that you can't give up on family."
Percy remains silent, glancing over at Tyson, who fiddles with his backpack straps while standing patiently beside Annabeth as they wait a ways away.
Percy looks back to Hermes, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Thanks again," he says, glancing at (Y/N) in question. She nods, and Percy returns it before brushing past the god and walking over to join his friend and half-brother.
"(Y/N)," Hermes starts, and the daughter of Persephone raises an eyebrow in expectation. "I know that you've had some encounters with us gods that have been more than unfavorable, but I want you to know that it has never been my intention to cause you any harm. I would go so far as to swear it."
(Y/N)'s eyes widen briefly at his unprompted sincerity and seriousness, and dread begins to flood through her.
"And if anything you later learn makes you question the path you are on right now, please trust me when I say this: your vitality to this quest, to the well-being of your generation of half-bloods and mystical beings alike, to the world... is irreplaceable."
(Y/N) takes a shaky breath, her stomach twisting. "What are you trying to say?" she asks, her voice nearly a whisper as she fails to keep it strong.
Hermes wants to do everything he can to reassure her, but he knows that the blow will come sooner or later. He knows that the unavoidable truth will eventually be brought to light, a truth so vile and evil that there is no possible way he can provide honest reassurance.
"I'm saying," he starts, hating that he is the cause of the fear that passes through her eyes, "that there will come a time where we need to make difficult decisions. Decisions that will decide the fate of us all."
Screams that are all too familiar echo through (Y/N)'s memory, and bursts of lightning flash in her mind. The sound of scissors upon yarn pounds against her skull, her heartbeat picking up speed to magnify it.
Percy glances over at her, and the expression on her face makes him take a worried step forward.
"You need to understand that there are dangers that plague our future, but also horrors that stain our past. And when you finally face them, it is crucial that you remember your goal. You cannot forget the people you fight for," Hermes urges, the grip on his staff tightening.
(Y/N)'s jaw clenches, and she glances at Percy, who has begun slowly moving closer in his concern. "I already know," she says, her voice low so that only Hermes can hear. "I know what happens, and I'm not afraid of it."
Hermes looks down at her, and a sad smile graces his lips. "You only know what is imminent," he says, his tone full of sympathy, "and I hoped for the longest time that it was all you needed to."
(Y/N) can only wish that he was joking, but the apology and regret that reach out from him make her understand that he wishes he was, too.
"(Y/N), you have no idea of the choices you will have to make and the consequences they will carry. You've barely even scratched the surface, so please, trust me. The people you love will lead you right. The people you've lost will pull you astray."
Hermes places a hand on her shoulder, meeting her gaze with such a desperate plea that makes (Y/N) feel even more fear than before. "You have the potential to create a new world full of prosperity and life for others like you," he says, pausing for a moment to properly choose his next words.
"Don't get blinded and make its creation fail to be."
(Y/N) can only nod, too stunned and caught up in her thoughts to voice them. Hermes squeezes her shoulder before stepping back. He extends his hand to shake, and (Y/N) hesitates before taking it.
"Ooh, firm grip!" Hermes points at their clasped hands, returning to his amicable nature as though he didn't just give the girl an incredibly foreboding warning of the future.
(Y/N) chuckles, grateful for the change in tone before adjusting her backpack. "Thank you for the help, Hermes," she says, quietly, and the god pats her on the shoulder.
"Thanks for not threatening me again," he grins, and (Y/N) raises an eyebrow as she walks past him.
Without a word, she unsheathes her sword, pointing it at him while walking backwards. Hermes lets out a quiet yelp of surprise, and his business shoes suddenly sprout golden wings to lift him off the floor and away from the point of the blade. "You know, I can sic my security guards on you for that," he says, pointing at the sword, and (Y/N) rolls her eyes.
"You don't have any security guards."
Hermes grumbles, crossing his arms. "You still don't have to do it."
"It's tradition at this point, Hermes. Of course I have to," she chuckles, shrugging.
Hermes raises his eyebrows at the weapon's details, his shoes lowering him back down to the floor. "Nice sword," he compliments, and (Y/N) smiles.
"Thanks," she says, sheathing it once more. When her hand is free, she gives Hermes her two-finger salute, turning around and walking the short distance over to Percy. Hermes watches as she reaches him, muttering to himself.
"Se aftó to rythmó, pithanótata tha katalíxei na me skotósei. [At this rate, she's probably going to end up killing me.]"
Unbeknownst to him, both half-bloods pick up on the words, and Percy glances at (Y/N) as she rolls her eyes in amusement.
"To ákousa! [I heard that!]"
"Skatá. [Shit.]"
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happy saturday :)