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Percy may be 13, with two quests under his belt and a god for a parent, but he should really start getting paid for putting up with all of the divine-driven problems he has encountered. Minotaurs, war gods, a confused but angry King of the Underworld uncle, cyclopes, one of two snakes who just really wanted a rat- and now this: a sopping wet man crying on the beach.
Blinking down at the man who had yet to realize anybody else was here, Percy realized he could really use Annabeth right now. She'd undoubtedly know what to do. Or, at least, that's what he liked to tell himself.
Percy threw a look back toward Camp Half-Blood, debating with himself on whether or not he should hurry and grab her before the man got a hold of himself, when the man abruptly stopped crying. Silence reigned for a long moment, neither of them moving. The fish in the water lapping at the shore, who had all been previously trying to catch Percy's attention, finally ceased their chatter. It was unnerving.
And then the man shot to his feet, pulling out a sword with practiced speed and agility. He spun, whirling around to point his sword at Percy's throat. Percy -because he does have some survival instincts, no matter what Grover and Chiron think- took several steps back with a yelp. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out Riptide, uncapping it.
Percy went to pull his sword up, ready to swing violently as he had through every other encounter he has needed his sword for, when he paused. The man didn't attack. He just stood there, sword ready, glaring, though he shook and seemed to hesitate.
It was the perfect opportunity to try to talk to the man and get him to calm down, provided Percy didn't trip over his words, make a fool of himself, and spark something violent within the man. At the very least, the ocean was right next to them, so should worse come to worse, Percy would be fine.
Probably.
“Hey,” Percy started, a little lamely. He raised his free hand and gave a small wave, well aware the other was watching his every movement with hawk eyes. “Um. Whatchya doing?”
“You're not Calypso,” the man answered. His white-knuckled grip on his sword tightened impossibly further, the gray in his hair and beard standing out startlingly with the moonlight. “What is this? An illusion?”
Calypso. Percy faintly recognized that name. His mom had told him tales of her, alongside every other notable figure in Greek Mythology. Percy could recall her being a titaness and her being one of the trials Odysseus overcame to get back to his wife. Well, Percy certainly didn't fit either of those descriptions, now did he?
“Nope!” Percy chirped. “I'm uh- I'm Percy. And you are… a sad, sad man.” Percy was trying to be nice, he promised! It was just, looking at the man before him, he could only really think one thing: this man was a mess.
The other continued to glare at him for a long moment, and Percy just hoped he was debating on whether or not Percy was telling the truth and not mentally going over the best ways to eat demigods. But, eventually, the man relented and let his sword arm fall, replying, “I am… Nobody. Tell me, Percy, where are we? This doesn't look like Ogygia.”
Percy was a little disappointed at being asked a question, having had a quip ready in response to Nobody's name. Still, he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck and gestured around with Riptide, “Uh. Camp. I'm assuming you aren't just some guy, but- what do you know of the Greek gods?”
Nobody raised an eyebrow. He slid his sword back into place and crossed his arms, a small chuckle leaving him. “What? Like Hermes and Athena?” Nobody asked.
“Oddly specific examples, but yes!”
“Then yes, you could say I know of them.”
What a strange way to answer that question. Percy shrugged, saying, “Cool, cool. So, they're real, and sometimes they have kids.” The other eyebrow raised and Percy hurried to continue. “And I know it sounds unbelievable, and trust me, it freaked me out too to find out, but these kids -they're called demigods- go to a camp to train. This is that camp!”
“Huh,” Nobody said with a click of his tongue. Percy got the impression the other thought he was crazy, which would be a fair thing for a mortal to assume. Honestly, Percy was now a little worried that he was about to get struck down for telling a strange man who had wandered into Camp's borders about the gods. But, hey, too late now.
“Yeah, it's crazy. It's fine, you can say it,” Percy said. Shaking his head, he waved again toward Camp to add, “Though, if you're here, you might want to see Chiron. Maybe you're a demigod, too- just a late bloomer. Which, hey, no judgment. Most people don't get claimed at all!”
“Fascinating.” Nobody glanced up toward the hill, eyes tracing the line of trees before them. Camp wasn't visible between them, given this was the forest used for capture the flag, but Percy couldn't blame the guy for wanting to try and look. A moment passed, then Nobody looked down at Percy again and made a ‘go on’ motion.
He wanted Percy to lead, Percy realized. He grimaced at the thought. Sure, this might be a fellow demigod, but Percy's track record with his peers has always been notoriously iffy. And if Nobody was a mortal, then that wasn't much better. At least Percy knew he wasn't a monster, Thalia's tree -which was really just a magic pine tree now- wouldn't let any in.
Bolstered by that very small fragment of hope, Percy gave an over exaggerated bow, pivoted on his heels, and started his march back to Camp. A beat passed, and then another, and only then did Nobody's footsteps join Percy's.
Though Nobody had already sheathed his sword, Percy kept his out. Everything is a trap and wants to kill you, he has learned. Even if Nobody is mostly unarmed and seems tame, he is clearly quick and is walking behind Percy; anything could go wrong. So, as they drifted further from the sea and into the woods, Percy kept his shoulders tense and clung tighter to his sword.
A few minutes later, however, and the silence was starting to get to Percy. Sure, the wind was ruffling the leaves, birds and squirrels were chatting in the dark, and the sounds of the ocean lapping at the shore still reached them, but none of that mattered to Percy. He was anxious and needed to talk.
Luckily for him, Nobody must've felt the same, as he speaks before Percy can, deep voice like thunder in the quiet, “So, what, you're a demigod then? Like Achilles?”
“I don't think he's usually the first person people think of when they think children of the gods -usually it is Hercules thanks to Disney- but yeah. Like Achilles,” Percy answered, bobbing his head up and down with a nod.
“Whose kid are you then? Ares? Apollo? Zeus?”
“Nope! I've met two of the three of those guesses, though,” Percy laughed. He spared the sky a look, faintly wondering if Zeus could hear his thoughts and would strike him down for them, then said, “But nah. Poseidon is my dad. He is not the best, don't get me wrong, and my mom is the way better parent, but he is still a better father than a lot of the other gods.”
While he talked, Percy didn't notice Nobody stopped walking behind him. When his words dwindled to an end, however, he did take note, turning around to squint into the darkness with confusion brimming. A few feet away stood Nobody, staring at Percy with his face concealed by shadows.
“Poseidon?” Nobody echoed, voice eerily even.
Red flags were being swung around by the few working braincells he still had, but Percy promptly ignored them. Tilting his head to the side in a manner he was starting to pick up from Athena's kids, he said, “Yeah. That's what I said. Everyone is always surprised by it; I take it you are, too?”
Nobody didn't answer. He turned around to face the way they had come, toward the sound of the water, and stood in silence. Neither of them spoke, though Percy was starting to regret not going to get Annabeth. One of these days, he'd stop introducing himself. Maybe that would stop him from almost being killed.
Nobody finally turned back around, hands curled into fists. Teeth gritted, he replied, “Slightly. I've met the guy a few times. You don't look like the sons of his I met, though him being a terrible dad is something I'd bet. Camp?”
Ignoring the rhyme and (deserved) jab at his father, Percy nodded. Hesitantly, a little nervous about turning his back on someone who had something against his dad again, Percy began to lead the way through the forest once more. This time, they both kept their mouths shut until they breached the edge of the forest and made it to the edges of Camp-proper.
“Here it is.” Percy spread his arms out wide. Down the hill, the cabins were still and silent, and only a few lights were on, namely being a few in the Big House and the fairy lights of the Aphrodite cabin. “Behold, Camp Half-Blood!”
Thud.
Percy blinked at the noise. Usually when there were new campers, they gasped in shock or squealed in excitement, with a few even hissing confused murmurs under their breaths. Campers don't usually ‘thud’ when they realize this was all real.
Turning around, Percy was about ready to make a joke when he saw what had happened. Nobody had passed out. Right in the grass, sprawled out like he had fallen unconscious before his knees had even hit the ground, too.
Huh. This might be a problem.
Morning came, and so did Chiron's disappointment. Last night, he had taken Nobody to one of the Big House's guest rooms (Which, why did they even have those? Did they regularly expect visitors? Did the gods show up for tea some days and just decide to stay over?) and told Percy to go to bed, saying he'd deal with everything in the morning.
Well, here it was, and here they were.
Nobody had yet to wake up, meaning it was just Percy and Chiron sitting at a table, a plate of biscuits between them. Mr. D was who knows where, though Percy couldn't exactly say he was disappointed with his lack of being here. A distraction would've been nice, of course, meaning Percy resorted to picking at the biscuit as Chiron gathered his thoughts.
“Percy,” Chiron began slowly. He opened his eyes, horse tail flicking. “To begin, let's start somewhere easy: why were you out of bed after curfew? Again, mind you. After your quests, the chariot races, and Tyson, I had assumed you would have slept until you had to return to your mother.”
Percy peeled off the top layer of the biscuit. He sat the rest down and began rolling the top layer into a small ball like he used to do with the cafeteria bread. He shrugged all the while, answering, “I just needed time to think. There isn't much of it during the day.”
“No, I suppose not,” Chiron sighed. Ball of bread successfully round, Percy popped it into his mouth and worked on pulling off the next layer of the biscuit. “And… where did this man come from?”
“Dunno. He was just kinda there. Crying. He made a really sad sight, to be honest. It was like watching a soap opera where one of the women find out the man she married yesterday is having an affair with a lady who is pregnant with some other dude's child.”
“How specific. What did you say his name was?”
Second layer peeled off, he began to roll that into a ball as well as he hummed in answer, “Nobody. He introduced himself as Nobody, which I thought pretty funny because Annabeth had done that same thing to Polyphemus during our quest. I didn't realize I'd ever know so many Odyssey fans.”
Tail flicking again, Chiron heaved a sigh. Percy could hear the other clacking his hooves against the ground and he tersely said, “Percy. That is not an Odyssey fan. That is Odysseus.”
Third bread ball half raised to his mouth, Percy froze. He could practically see the loading circle of death buffering in his head as he processed the words. Slowly setting the ball of bread back down, Percy spoke in all his wisdom, “A huh?”
“Odysseus, Percy. Husband of Penelope, the original Nobody.” Chiron reached up to rub his face, his exhaustion heavy in the air. “I do not know how he is here, or why, for that matter. But, it is clear that he is, no matter what.”
“Do we- can we call Athena? He was her Champion, right? She and Hermes get him off Calypso's island, after all, so maybe they-”
“You cannot just call the gods,” Chiron reminded him. He dropped his hand from his face and swiped the other half of Percy's biscuit. “Mind you, it has also been centuries. The gods do not care for their playthings that long, even their favored. Even if we do manage to somehow call, there is no telling if either of them or anyone at all would care.”
“Well, Uncle might, right?” Percy asked. “He is the Lord of the Dead. Won't he be upset if wayward souls are making their way back up?”
“It is very possible the man you met has not died yet. He was mentioning Calypso, you said? If that is the case, he has not finished his story, let alone died. However, should that be the case…” Chiron trailed off, becoming deep in thought.
And oh, right, Odysseus didn't only run into Calypso. He'd also dealt with the suitors and Helios’ cows and Scylla and-
And Poseidon's rage.
Suddenly, Percy was hit with the urge to stress eat the entire plate of biscuits. He messed up, he was sure of it, and he was getting his last meal one way or another.
Sometime later, before he left and ignorant or heedless to Percy's despair, Chiron told him to stay with Odysseus. He was the only person Odysseus had met so far, after all, so it was the most logical option. Percy quickly decided the actual most logical option was to take Odysseus to the Athena cabin the second he wakes up and wait to see what happened.
Nevertheless, he still had to wait for Nobody the First to wake up from his apparent coma. Chiron had said the man had likely just crashed the second he realized there weren't any threats around and that he should wake up eventually. Percy was pretty sure Odysseus died, meanwhile.
Lo and behold, a few boring hours later, Percy was surprised to turn around and find Odysseus staring at him in the doorway. In the daylight, the crow feet and frown lines were more visible, and so were the bags under his eyes. The dude probably should've stayed in that not-quite coma for a few more hours. Or days, actually.
Odysseus blinked down at Percy, and Percy blinked back, suddenly feeling like a cat. Though, if they were cats, he would be worried this was about to delve into one of those 3 AM alleyway catfights. Really, it might become that anyway.
Or maybe not, Percy mentally ammended, watching Odysseus turn a critical eye to the interior of the Big House. His face remained carefully blank as he looked around until the frown came back and he met Percy's eyes. He asked, “Where is my weapon?”
“Uh…” Percy didn't have the slightest idea. That was a Chiron question, but Chiron wasn't here. Percy didn't even know where Chiron hurried off to after he put Percy on babysitting duty. Herositting?
Unfortunately for him, the longer he hesitated, the more on edge Odysseus became. His shoulders rose, his face hardened, his hands curled into fists. Percy needed a distraction and fast.
“Do you want to meet Athena's kids?” Percy blurted out. Smooth, Jackson.
Odysseus crossed his arms and shifted to put his weight on one leg. Sounding none-too-pleased, he shot back, “Do I want to meet the children of the goddess who abandoned me? Not particularly. I can't imagine she'd make a good mother anyway, not with how easy it is to disappoint her.”
Percy found himself blinking again. Apparently animosity toward Athena was a common thing from those who knew her. He almost wondered what would happen if he got Odysseus and Annabeth to talk to each other. Either one of them would end up dead or they'd be the bestest of friends. Percy wasn't sure which scared him more.
Raising his hands in surrender, Percy quickly tried to come up with a backup plan to his backup plan. “Hermes’ then? Or do you just wanna… hang out? Two dudes just chilling?”
Oh yeah. Percy was definitely going to die today.
Somehow, Percy made it to lunch.
It had been shockingly easy, actually. Percy had been leading Odysseus to the strawberry fields to swipe a snack when he asked about Penelope. Instantly, like a lightswitch had just been flicked, Odysseus lit up like a kid on Christmas. And thus began the nonstop gushing about his wife.
They passed Thalia at one point; Odysseus was going on about something or other still related to Penelope's weaving while Percy glanced around aimlessly, eventually finding his gaze landing on Thalia, who was staring straight back. She had given him a baffled look, one that transcended any other confused look Percy had ever received by tenfold. Percy shrugged back.
By the time they made it to the strawberry field, Odysseus still hadn't stopped. Percy weaved his way to a spot not as closely monitored by the Demeter kids and forest nymphs, dropping down with a grunt. He grabbed a few berries, nodded along to ‘something something Penelope is the best’, and allowed his mind to wander. He hoped Tyson was doing okay down in the forges…
A solid hour and a half later, Odysseus was laying on his back, arm thrown over his eyes and blissfully silent. Percy tried to will the strawberries blue, failed, sighed, and shoved them into his mouth.
“Are you going to kill me for being the son of Poseidon?” Percy finally asked when the anticipation was getting to be too much for him. Apparently lying in the fields didn't wash all his worries away like everyone always says it would. What a shame. “Because a lot of people, monsters, and gods have tried to do that so far.”
Odysseus made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, which Percy supposed was fair. Arm still thrown over his eyes and sounding like he was on the verge of going back to sleep -which, again, fair and a mood- Odysseus asked, “Well, should I be concerned that you are going to kill me?”
“No? I mean, I have a week before I have to go home and mom would be upset if I got into more trouble than I already have.”
“Are any of your friends going to kill me?”
“Define friends. Because Annabeth might not, Clarisse might but I don't know if she counts as a friend, Grover won't-”
“Would letting you live anger the gods?”
“Man, I hope not.”
“Then no,” Odysseus answered, moving his arm away to stare at Percy. “You are a child and seem like an okay kid, but I made a vow that I wouldn't hesitate to drop another infant from a wall if it meant I get to see my wife and son again. Make no moves against me, and I won't make any moves against you.”
…oh. That had been another thing Percy had forgotten, hadn't it? It was said that either Odysseus or Achilles's son, Neoptolemus, killed Prince Hector of Troy's son by dropping him into the battlefield of the city. Percy might need to reread the Odyssey's and whatever other Greek Myth's graphic novel he can find, just in case this situation were to happen again. And, in any case, it would mean Annabeth and Grover wouldn't have to constantly explain to him that no, Percy, you cannot go say hi to the thing that wants to kill you.
Shaking those thoughts away with a grin, Percy held out a strawberry and chirped, “Whatever floats your boat! Strawberry?”
Odysseus takes the fruit and squints down at it, spinning it in his grasp. Percy was just about to ask if the ancient Greeks had strawberries when Odysseus popped it into his mouth, stem and all. Which, good for him. Percy would probably do the same if he spent twenty years on the sea and on cursed islands.
Well, maybe not. Surely being the son of Poseidon comes with more perks than breathing underwater and being able to talk to fish, right? Percy could probably do what some fishes do, live off kelp and seaweed and…
And no, yeah, Percy would eat the strawberry whole.
“You talk strange,” Odysseus said after a lull of conversation. He was gazing out toward the treeline, brows furrowed as he frowned. “And this whole place- it's different from how it has been described.”
Percy really wished he could use electronics right now. He really, really needed to google “How to tell people they are roughly two thousand years in the future?” As is, Percy just had to nervously laugh and mock cheer, “Welcome to the best part of your life: the future! Well, technically the best part of your life is getting back to Ithaca, but that's still in the future!”
“The future?” Odysseus repeated, tone disbelieving. He shook his head then, the ends of the bandana he wore flying about with the movement. “Actually, wait- Ithaca?”
“Yeah, see- am I allowed to answer this, actually? You know what, it doesn't matter. I'm going to Oracle of Delphi at you. Long story short, you do get back to Ithaca! It just takes a really long time!” The jazz hands were absolutely necessary.
Odysseus did not blink for several moments. Percy kept up the jazz hands. A nymph floated past and resolutely ignored them both.
“You know,” Odysseus began, not looking very happy, “I had a prophet say the same thing once.”
“Oh. My condolences.”
“They're not appreciated.”
“My mom nearly named me after you.”
That gave Odysseus pause. Percy could practically see the gears buffering at the abrupt change of topic before Odysseus whirled around to ask, “What?”
Percy nodded, leaning back onto his elbows. “Yep. She thought it would be funny to name me after one of the heroes Poseidon is notorious for hating,” Percy shrugged with a grin. “Dad managed to talk her out of it, but it's funny to think about. And anyway, she was really only considering it because she wanted to name me after a hero who got a happy ending. I was named after Perseus, but you were a considered option.”
“Only a happy ending?” Odysseus tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Not a happy middle?”
Percy hummed a considering noise, moving back up to drum his fingers on his knees. “I think she knew that getting involved with a god and having a child with him would lead to… certain things. Mom is smart, she's read the stories, so I don't think she wouldn't know that demigods -heroes as a whole- don't get happy middles. Few get happy endings, though, so why not take what we can get?”
Odysseus sat up just as an owl flew overhead. Neither paid it much mind as Odysseus began to say, “I suppose-”
The owl dropped down. Percy jolted so hard he almost choked on a strawberry. Odysseus, meanwhile, went stone still as he stared down at the owl perched on his knee. Piercing gray eyes stared straight back.
Percy gasped, finally able to breathe again, and gaped at the bird. Where did it come from? Weren't owls nocturnal? He is pretty sure he remembered learning about that in second grade, not that he remembered most of that school year. In any case, he was pretty sure birds of prey didn't usually swoop down to say hi to people.
The three of them stared for a long moment. The owl ruffled its feathers and smoothed them out again, talons digging into Odysseus's knee. Odysseus himself didn't twitch, apparently too stunned to react, but Percy winced in sympathy. Though, Percy was also a little distracted by how similar the owl's eyes were to Annabeth's.
The staring contest situation was quickly cut short by yet another approach. A hand waved away the owl with several clicks of the tongue, to which the owl responded by angrily screeching and hopping up onto Odysseus's shoulder. Percy followed the hand up and found -to his slight surprise- Hermes.
Instead of wearing a tracksuit this time around, Hermes had an UPS outfit, though he had one of those ancient wreath crowns casted in gold upon his head. Hermes huffed at the owl, then turned to give Percy a grin.
“Hey, cousin!” He greeted with a laugh. He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, where Martha and George were wrapping around it again, and tossed it to Percy. “Entertain them for a bit, yeah? I need to spend some quality time with my favorite great-grandson! Well, we might need to have that fact checked, but hey! Anger bringer! How you've been?”
Any rats yet, boy? George hissed, a bit pathetically. Percy shook his head and offered a strawberry. George heaved a sigh but unhinged his jaw to eat it. Martha shook her head.
“Hermes!” Odysseus gleefully greeted all the while. The owl, who Percy was starting to think may have been Athena with how it shot glares at him, puffed up. How cute, he's never seen a jealous bird before. “What are you doing here?”
Hermes laughed, crouching down further to pat Odysseus's cheek like he was a grandma seeing her kindergarten aged grandchild for the first time in a week. The owl tried to take a nick out of Hermes' fingers, but Hermes just laughed again.
Percy had to admire Odysseus. If he found himself in the middle of two gods’ territorial battle, he'd probably not be relaxed and soaking in the sunlight. He'd be reasonably terrified.
(That's a lie. He'd end up sassing someone at the wrong time and a bare minimum of three other people would have to step in to keep him from being sent into Tartarus.)
Martha and George shook with laughter as if they could hear what he was thinking. Hermes answered Odysseus all the while, “Well, a little party god told me someone unexpected tripped into Camp again. I was expecting another child of the big three, maybe Hades’, but nope! Here you are instead! Can't I come say hello to my sister's favorite pet liar?”
“That'd be news to her,” Odysseus scoffed. Percy wondered if this counted as having mommy issues. Maybe he should get Odysseus and Annabeth to meet up after all. Meanwhile, in repsonse to those words, the owl made a sad chirping noise, pulling at a piece of Odysseus's hair, which Percy thought was awfully bold of her to do after giving all of her children abandonment issues.
Wings of his shoes fluttering, Hermes pushed on, ignoring Odysseus’ sneer and Percy's glare. “You'd be surprised, Od,” Hermes countered. “Come along now, I've got some friends for you to meet about why you are just a smidge out of place.”
He held out a hand that, after a second of hesitation, Odysseus took. Percy, watching the owl's talons dig deeper into Odysseus's cape, couldn't fault him for that. Hermes could've explicitly said he's taking him to Olympus to be poked at under a microscope and Percy still would've gone; Hermes is just a chill dude like that.
Hermes turned back to Percy, who offered Martha and George back. The snakes wiggled about before they were swiftly shoved into a pocket. The next second, Hermes patted Percy's head.
“B R B,” he said with a wink. When Percy next blinked, they were all gone.
Welp. Moving on-
Percy made it a few more hours before Odysseus confusedly materialized, which he spent doing a variety of things like getting into a food fight with Thalia, helping the Hepheastus kids in their forges, and killing a spider for the Athena cabin.
Odysseus appeared with a woman at his back, her hands on his shoulders. She stared down at them all with gray eyes framed with brown hair. She blinked at them, they blinked back, and Odysseus was stuck in the middle like he was watching a ping pong match.
The woman -Athena- squeezed his shoulders in a silent good luck, then disappeared in a flurry of feathers. Annabeth gave an understandably distressed noise. One of her brothers nervously chuckled.
Malcolm stepped forward with his hands on his hips. Face pinched, he said, “Hello there.”
“General Kenobi,” Percy quickly whispered under his breath. One of the other kids giggled.
Odysseus waved back. Miraculously, he didn't look as inclined to curl into a ditch and stay there anymore. He did, however, still look ready to throw hands with the first teenager that asked him how old he was.
None of those thoughts led Percy to his next thought: Percy really was the odd one out here. He was the designated spider killer, sure, but also both parties hated his dad. Which, good for them, he wasn't really pleased with the god either, but geez, way to make Percy feel like even more of an outcast.
“Hey,” Odysseus said, and nevermind, Percy takes that back. He wasn't an outcast specifically because he apparently isn't the only one who doesn't know what to do here. “I'm just dropping in. Literally.”
“Are you are babysitter then?” Someone asked with irritation.
“He threatened to drop me off a wall,” Percy helpfully supplies.
“I'd drop you off a wall.”
“No you wouldn't, Wise Girl. Who'd kill spiders for you?”
“Grover.”
“We both know Grover wouldn't kill a spider! He'd wax poetry at it!”
“Fine, Beckondorf, then.”
“I-... I have no arguments against that.”
“That means you two are done bickering like a married couple then, right? Great,” Malcolm cut in, pushing Percy and Annabeth apart. He threw a thumb over his shoulder and added, “Your friend booked it across the Camp.”
“Who is he?” Annabeth asked before Percy could respond. She pressed a finger to her chin in thought, frowning. “You didn't get involved with yet another god, did you, Seaweed Brain?”
“Nah, he's Nobody,” Percy answered. Taking that as a good enough goodbye, Percy turned around and ran in the direction Malcolm pointed, waving to Annabeth when she shouted after him. Hopefully Odysseus didn't run into too many people on his way to wherever.
Of course, Percy should know better to hope, but at least he knew where Odysseus went by the trail of confused campers. He passed Silena, who was squinting into the distance like she was trying to piece something together, though the expression cleared when Percy sprinted past her, notably. Percy gave her a thumbs up and continued on toward the direction of the sea.
He barreled through low hanging branches, knowing he was probably going to have to spend a few hours picking bugs and leaves out of his hair. Again. Not deterred by this, Percy did not slow his run to the beach where he had met the pathetically sad man. Chiron might kill him if he found out Percy allowed a wayward hero to walk into the ocean and drown himself, after all.
Percy breached the tree line, sliding down the rocky sand leading to the beach. He skidded to a halt as the hill flattened out, shaking his head and glancing up. Sure enough, standing with the water up to his calves, there was Odysseus. He was facing Percy, arms crossed with his sword tied back his hip.
“Considering those kids thought I was babysitting them, I'm the one feeling awfully watched,” Odysseus remarked. He raised his chin and stared down his nose at Percy, which Percy knew from experience was an attempt to feel taller. It's not like it's Percy's fault Odysseus is short and angry!
At least he now knows why Polyphemus had to pat each sheep as it was moving through the cave; having an enemy who was very sheep-like probably sparked some eternal concern.
Percy raised his hands. “In my defense, I don't want to be here.”
“Could've fooled me.”
“Chiron's disappointment scares me almost as much as my mom's.”
Odysseus blinked, then shrugged after a second. He shifted, dropping a hand onto the hilt of his sword and gesturing with the other. “Luckily for you, you have been dismissed from your duty,” he said.
It was Percy's turn to blink. He glanced between the man before him and the sea a few times. Dropping his hands on his hips, he asked, “You're not going to drown yourself, are you? I mean, there are other ways to solve your problems, no need to be so dramatic.”
“Well, either I drown, or I find myself back on Ogygia, hopefully back when I'm supposed to be,” Odysseus answered with a sharp grin. He pivoted and started walking back into the sea, “Besides, it was Athena's idea, and when has her wisdom ever steered me wrong?”
Ignoring the copious amount of sarcasm in that last sentence, Percy shot back, “I don't know, my guy. This seems like the equivalent of sending your dog to the farm.” Resolutely ignoring Percy, Odysseus forged onward into the waves, causing Percy to sigh. He looked above Odysseus's head and to the ocean at large, praying, “Please don't kill him, please don't kill him. Mom'll never give me jellybeans again if she finds out about this.”
In spite of -or perhaps because of- Percy's plea, a wave suddenly appeared, towering over them both. Percy's internal monologue wasn't very coherent as he wildly waved his arms about. He didn't even understand how this would work- the flailing arm thing or the drowning attempt thing! Really, he was starting to assume there wasn't a single brain cell in all of this dumpster fire of a family.
Percy's flailing ended up being useless in the end. The wave crashed down with a noise like thunder. Water gently lapped at the shore after, as if it hadn't just taken any traces of Odysseus with it. Which it had, because where Odysseus had previously stood like a statue as the tide came, nothing was there. Percy couldn't even see a body floating in the water.
His first thought was ’Chiron is going to kill me.’ His second was ’How did that work?!’
An owl hooted behind him. Percy's eye twitched as he spun around to find, sure enough, a gray-eyed barn owl perched on the closest tree. She stared unblinkingly at Percy, who did the same until she began to tilt her head. And kept going. And then went even further, until her head was practically upside down. Percy looked away first.
“Nope. You're right.” Percy said to her, already starting to march back to Camp. “I didn't see anything, nothing ever happened. I'm going to bed and pretending this was all some stress induced dream.”
Athena's chirp was far too pleased with herself.
Of course, in the morning, Percy will deny Odysseus was ever here. He'll laugh and say, “Nope. Nobody strange was here yesterday, what are you talking about?” Several people will squint at him suspiciously. That one nymph will make him do gardening work until he has to go home. But, for right now, he does the incredibly mature thing of sticking his tongue out at the goddess and bolting away before she can swoop at him.