Chapter Text
The last day that Annabeth spent with Percy had been a warm summer day in August. They had spent months after that Iris messaging and staying in touch from opposite ends of the country, her in New Rome and him in New York. She had warned him to stay in touch or else, and their weekly Iris messages helped keep her sane while they studied in different universities before Percy moved to New Rome. Percy was always the one to call her before they talked well into the night. It was the fact that he didn’t call her at the time he always had that tipped her off that something was wrong. They had talked the week before and now something was wrong, and she had no way to know if something had happened to him that day, or if something bad had happened almost a week ago and no one had noticed. She had immediately called Sally, hoping that the woman who had all but adopted her would be able to settle her fears. Instead, she had found a Sally who was slightly concerned but became worried when she asked after Percy. Her stomach clenched at the news that Sally hadn’t seen him all week and simply thought that he was as camp or with Poseidon in Atlantis around his university classes.
The last day Sally had spent with Percy had been happy and fun. They had started by painting the nursery that would become Estelle’s room, and ended covered in lilac paint before they fell asleep on the couch, her fingers running through her son’s hair. She had been content, and happy to see him so happy, whispering the words she had been longing to say since he had first entered the demigod world. We made it. I love you. The last day Paul had spent with Percy had been reteaching his step-son, his son, how to drive, and being there as his son shined in glee with his G1 license. They had both passed his absences off as him being busy with university classes and camp and his father until Annabeth Iris messaged, worried about Percy missing their weekly check in. It had brought back memories of Annabeth frantically Iris messaging them to tell them that Percy had disappeared from his cabin at camp. The two of them could only hope that they would find him again, like they had found him the last time he had disappeared. If his disappearance was related to the godly world, there wasn’t much else they could do.
The last day those at camp had spent with Percy had included a capture the flag game, Greeks vs Romans. It was full of fun, and many new friends had been made. Camp had started settling down, finally going back to what it was meant to be, a safe haven from the world and not a training ground to survive a war. The next time camp got word of Percy came in the form of a frantic Annabeth running into camp. Those who had been at camp when Percy disappeared immediately recognized the desperation in Annabeth’s actions, her disheveled appearance. It set them on edge, not knowing what had happened to cause such a hero such worry, only hoping that Percy hadn’t disappeared, hadn’t been taken, yet again. And yet, the way the older campers, the veterans of both wars, acted after Annabeth had left told the younger campers that there was reason to worry, that Percy had disappeared once again. And many of them worried that the see you later had truly been a goodbye.
The last day Grover had spent with Percy had been relaxing. They had spent the day in green spaces in New York, protecting the final green spaces before Grover left to travel worldwide to protect the untouched pieces of wild. Grover had made sure to check in on Percy through the empathy link often, and could feel Percy doing the same. They had said that they would use the empathy link if they were in trouble, and Grover hadn’t needed to yet. And then one day he woke up and the empathy link was gone, the string that connected them broken, shattered. The link was still there, and yet it wasn’t, reaching into open space and nothingness rather than his best friend’s mind. It terrified him, suddenly not having a link that had existed for years. Even when Hera had taken him, the empathy link had existed; it had been suppressed and taken a while to coax open, likely due to the type of magical sleep Hera had left Percy in, but it had still been there. And now it was gone, and yet Grover was still alive, still sane, still able to function as if the link had never existed rather than having been broken like it had. He had gone back to camp then, leaving his travels to find out what had happened to his best friend. He had found a camp and Annabeth almost identical to when Hera had snatched Percy, desperately trying to find Percy, or discover what had happened to him, Rachel’s abilities as the Oracle just as helpless as they had been the last time. Grover shared the news of the broken empathy link, wondering somberly if perhaps Percy had finally travelled to the Underworld escorted by Thanatos, only to be assured by Nico that he hadn’t felt Percy’s soul depart the overworld and that searches of Elysium had shown no sign of the missing hero.
The last day that Poseidon had spent with his sons, with Perseus and Tyson, as well as Triton and Amphitrite, had been domestic. More domestic than Poseidon, or any of the gods, could have imagined being with their demigod children, let alone a demigod child along with their godly family. He had sent Percy back to the surface with the message of him being welcome there, in Atlantis, anytime. Perseus had not been back since then, busy, the god assumed, with his mortal friends and family and commitments. Poseidon had not kept track of his son, knowing how Percy valued his privacy, and so had not known of his disappearance until he received worried prayers from Perseus’ friends, from Athena’s daughter Annabeth and Percy’s own mother Sally. They had been asking if Percy was with him, praying for help in finding him, praying for news from the gods of Perseus’ whereabouts or knowledge of what he might be doing. Poseidon sent out the power he could spare form his usual duties, which was a considerable amount, to try and search for his son, only to find that for the first time since Perseus was born, he could not feel him or his soul. When Amphitrite and Triton discovered Perseus’ disappearance, they set to work attempting to find some trace of the demigod as well, having become fond of him during his few visits after the wars.
Soon enough, other gods became aware of the Hero of Olympus’ disappearance. Some due to the prayers of the demigod campers asking for help or news of Percy’s whereabouts, others due to trying to visit him either to chat as friends or to ask for help. As the Olympians began to become aware of Perseus’ disappearance, Poseidon confronted Hera, demanding to know what she had done with his son. She had stolen him once before and Poseidon would not allow her to keep him away again. Hera had sworn she hadn’t touched the demigod, many of the other gods following her lead and swearing the same before Poseidon could turn his ire on any of them. Apollo and Hermes had even offered to help look for him, both of them being friendly with the demigod, and Artemis offered the aid of her hunters in following any lead that was found.
Eventually, those looking for the missing demigod lost hope. The gods could find no trace of him, no hint of his powers or his godly essence that all demigods held. The demigods heard nothing, no avenue they followed giving them insight into what happened. Grover couldn’t help, only knowing that the empathy link was gone. He wasn’t found in the Underworld, and yet he couldn’t be found in the overworld. It took a while, but eventually those looking for him stopped looking so desperately, slowly beginning to move on with their lives, accepting that he was gone. They held a funeral for him, accepting that he was no longer in the living world or the overworld, even if he couldn’t be found in the Underworld; they hoped that his death and his journey to Elysium and then rebirth had been so swift that none of the Underworld had registered his death.
Estelle was born and Annabeth visited as often as she could around university in New Rome, staying as close with Sally and Paul as she could, helping with Estelle where Percy had hoped to help, raising her with stories of her brother who was kind and joyful and determined to help. Demigods came to camp who had never known Percy Jackson, and only knew the name from stories of the wars, stories of the demigods who had fought to preserve Olympus. The oceans, which had stopped being calm and peaceful when Poseidon found out about Percy’s disappearance, remained unforgiving in Poseidon’s grief and fury over the disappearance of his son and would likely not calm down for decades or until Percy was found. And even if Percy was found, it didn’t guarantee the waters would calm. While Poseidon, Amphitrite, Triton, Apollo, and Hermes had all gone back to their regular duties, they continued allowing small parts of their consciousnesses to search for Percy, listening for his voice trying to call for them for help, searching for flares of sea powers to mark his presence.
It happened during a council meeting. Athena had been droning on about something or other, when Hermes heard a voice say his name. The voice was small and weak, a quiet murmur that he almost didn’t register. Until he realized which part of his consciousness had heard the voice. He didn’t even think about it, simply flashing away from the council meeting, uncaring of the meeting not being finished yet or the consequences he would face when he returned to Olympus next. Right now, he had a lead to find Percy and he would not let it go, not when Percy’s voice sounded that small and unlike the strong man he had once been.
Hermes reappears in a dark room, shrouded in so much power that no immortal would have been able to see or hear without being verbally summoned, so much power that even if Percy had used any of his abilities it would have been lost and unnoticed. There were no windows, the only light coming from a tub of lava, and the small room was made smaller by the few boxes that littered the room. Hermes barely takes a moment to look around before he spots both Percy and the one who had kept Percy from them. The captor had his hand raised and Hermes moved without thinking, acting on instinct, anger and rage at the treatment of his friend, grabbing the man’s arm before he could move to hit Percy. In an instant, Hermes decimated the man, smiting him and sending him down to the Underworld to be tortured forever by Hades. The insignificant man who had taken Olympus’ hero, Hermes’ friend and Poseidon’s son, dealt with, Hermes turned to look at Percy.
The demigod looked terrible. His hands, legs, and torso were wrapped in barbed wire, the barbs digging into his soft skin as it tied him to a hard, metal chair. His friend’s feet were blistered and red, and Hermes could only guess at why. Hermes glared at the barbed wire, stalking towards the demigod and banishing the barbed wire without a thought. It was hurting his friend, keeping Percy bound and helpless, and so he would have it gone. Percy slid to the floor then, and Hermes barely spared a thought to how long he had spent bound to the chair, unable to use his legs. He continued approaching, needing to help Percy in any way he could; he had been missing for so long and now Hermes had found him, had the ability to finally help him rather than simply searching aimlessly.
He stopped approaching the demigod as Percy backed into the corner, begging and pleading with him to not hurt him, his expression frantic, his eyes seemingly both wild and unfocussed. Hermes couldn’t stop whatever expression his face made as he stared at the demigod, trying to work out how to help. Percy was clearly terrified, shaking and timid, almost acting like a hurt and cornered animal. It would make sense, if the only thing he had experienced since he was taken was pain and fear, and it made Hermes ache. So he stayed in the middle of the room, his hands out, trying to demonstrate that he was unarmed and not a threat. Slowly, ever so slowly so as to not further spook the already traumatized boy, he crouched down, only stopping when he was the same level as Percy.
“Percy?” he called gently, keeping his tone soft, trying to break through whatever fog Percy was existing in without scaring him further. “Please. Let me help you.” He waited, as patiently as he could, watching as Percy’s eyes dart back and forth, as if he was debating with himself. He waited as he watched Percy pull himself slowly back into the present, able to faintly recognize him. Hermes doesn’t know how much Percy remembers or recognizes, but he can see the small spark of recognition, of trust, in Percy’s eyes as he eventually nods a shaky yes.
He approached Percy slowly, like he had seen others, gods and demigods, approach a scared young animal. He watched Percy carefully, relieved that he doesn’t scream or beg anymore, but still concerned by the way he shakes and trembles. Every time Percy’s fingers dug into his arms Hermes would stop, waiting for the demigod to relax again, waiting for his fingers to release his arms before he continued forward. Once he reached him, he slowly reached out, grasping one of Percy’s arms gently. He telegraphs his moves after Percy flinches, allowing Percy’s terrified eyes to follow his actions as he slowly pulls the boy towards him. Eventually, Percy is leaning against him instead of the wall, and Hermes was able to wrap his arms around him. He gently runs his hands, his fingers, over the demigod’s head and neck and back in a way he hopes is soothing, repeating the action for as long as he needs to. He doesn’t keep track of how long he sits there with Percy leaning against him and running his hands over the demigod, but eventually Percy stops shaking. He wraps his arms around Percy just a little bit tighter before he wills them both to disappear from the room.
They reappear in the bathroom of one of his safe houses, a travel house on the road that he sometimes rented out, making it a place for travelers and thus part of his domain. It was one of the only houses that he owned that no one else knew belonged to him. He could alert the others about having found Percy later, for now he needed to keep him safe. He felt Percy lift his head, looking over his shoulder and Hermes knows that he is looking at the bathtub. From the state of the room he had found Percy in, and from Percy’s own state, he knew that the son of Poseidon had been separated from water for too long. He helped Percy over to the tub, filling the bath with salt water and helping the demigod in. Percy was still fully clothed, but neither of them cared. Hermes simply wanted Percy to be healed and knew that water, especially salt water would help. Percy seemed to sink into the water, finally fully relaxing as the water surrounded him. Hermes reached into the demigod’s mind gently, soothing his mind as the water soothed and healed his wounds, helping the demigod’s mind slow down enough to allow him to drift into a, hopefully peaceful, sleep.