Hello! So I started brainstorming this piece around Rememberence Day, but then I got sidetracked by my life, but since today is International Puppy Day- I gave myself a kick in the butt to finish this. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. But as far as I'm concerned, until the Trials of Apollo comes out my service dog au is canon.

Dedication: Service dogs and therapy animals everywhere- certified or not, stupid dogs and picky geckos and steady turtled and curious hamsters and tanks full of fish and pirouetting newts help us with life. (I've had some weird pets okay)

Man's Best Friend

"Taking care of our veterans is a cost of war. If you can spend six trillion dollars sending people to war, you can spend a few billion dollars taking care of them when they come home."
-Sen. Bernie Sanders

Everything about Percy but the hands grasping the sword was shaking. He was hyperaware of his surroundings like whenever there was a fight- sure, but the hole on the knee of his school uniform felt bigger than it was. The pearls of sweat collecting on the base of his neck and forehead felt colder than they could possibly be. He felt his heartbeat where his Adam's apple should be and his stomach where his feet were.

He'd gotten them all, he thought. Hellhounds had just started traveling in organised packs, but he'd sliced down about five- which was what he and Annabeth had calculated as an average pack size… He should be safe? He didn't feel it.

Five hellhounds. It wasn't very hard to deal with, nothing to write home about unless anyone asked him specifically how his day had been. He'd done it before and he'd probably do it again. But still, he trembled like a leaf and the tear in his uniform really bothered him. Couldn't he walk home from school once without any kind of divine intervention or rude interruption? Thank the gods that Annabeth had some kind of calculus club or whatnot and that he hadn't stopped at her school to pick her up yet.

Since his pants were ruined, he wiped Riptide's blade against the hem to try and clean the blade as best as he could. Hopefully he could get the blood and ichor off his hands, if not he wouldn't exactly be able to discreetly take the subway. Maybe Annabeth could meet him at his mom's house? He should probably walk off the jitters and shakes before getting home, anyways. Mom would worry.

He was looking around the alley to try and find something else to wipe his sword against when a sharp bark pulled him back to reality. It was a normal dog, not a hellhound, but it turned Percy's attention back to a duo of dracanae that were flying at him out of nowhere.

"You killed a friends friendsssssss," the first one hissed. Percy sidestepped and kicked her into a dumpster, like putting leftovers in a Tupperware and abandoning them in the fridge for a bit, before tackling the first one.

Again, the fight wasn't really hard. None of them were anymore. But he still had to do it. It'd be better if he weren't shaking and if his control was better, but he sent the two monsters back to Tartarus in under five minutes.

He didn't even try to clean Riptide this time, what was the point? He didn't want to cap the blade either. Just in case.

He double-checked the alley a second time to make sure he was alone. The dracanae had said that she was jumping Percy for her friends. Did she mean the hellhounds?

Annabeth's going to have enough cows to bless Hera, Percy thought. First the monsters travel in packs, now they're crossing the species barriers to collaborate. Fuck.

That's how he spotted the dog; black and white with long, matted fur. She was probably some kind of shepherd dog based on pictures he'd seen, but Percy had never had a dog.

"Hey," he said. "Thanks for the heads up, there."

The dog sat on her haunches and panted happily, looking at Percy. She was quiet now, and Percy had an uncomfortable gut feeling that…. That the dog had known, somehow.

He looked behind him. He was pretty sure that this was actually a dog- he'd been using Thalia's tips and tricks to punch through the mist ever since the War. She was pretty cute, anyways- which had nothing to do with whether or not she was a monster, but definitely made Percy more inclined to check her out.

"You alone out here? Come here," Percy said kneeling down. The dog looked more than happy to oblige and she let Percy rub the back of her head without hesitation. She even leaned into his touch. She didn't have a collar, and Percy could feel knots in her fur. She was filthy- and alone.

"You're such a good… girl, yup, girl," Percy said. "Where are you from?"

She didn't answer (thank god, Percy couldn't afford his day to get worst), just panted happily and cuddled up to Percy.

"You're so scrawny and boney," Percy said. "I'm gonna go ahead and say that you're not from anywhere specific…"

She looked at Percy with bright eyes, and he did a rash thing that he'd never done before.

"Come on," Percy said. "Let's at least get you somewhere warm."

When he got home, he wasn't shaking anymore. He didn't even have to tell Mom about the fight. He just had to explain the dog.

It wasn't that Percy wasn't the kind of impulsive child who'd have brought home bugs in jars or tadpoles in a waterlogged Ziploc. It was just that he'd never brought home a stray dog, much less one for which he had a bath and a meal and a bed already planned by the time he got home. So once she was reasonably sure that the dog didn't have rabies, Sally let him follow through with his plans, intrigued about where her son was going with this. When she stepped into the bathroom with some towels, she found Percy laughing and laughing and laughing. He was creating bubbles of water and launching them across the bathroom, watching the dog take off from one end to another, trying to snatch them out of the air.

"I'll clean up after," Percy promised when he saw Sally. His hair and uniform pants were soaked, he'd tossed his school polo in a corner. He was so distracted by the dog that he hadn't even bothered to make himself waterproof.

"Don't worry about it," Sally laughed. "Glad to see you two are having fun. Is she clean yet?"

"Oh yeah," Percy said. "She's been good for ages. She just wants to-" The dog pawed at Percy's chest and made him topple backwards and laugh harder as new, paw-shaped water marks blossomed on his shirt. "She just wants to play."

Sally laughed along and put the towels on top of the toilet. She didn't want Percy to see her face, he'd call her out on smiling a "Mom smile". The kind of happy, but also a bit sad, and ultimately knowing smile of a mom who always had a little more going on in her head.

When Percy had gotten back from California and Italy and Greece and gods knew where else he'd been dragged, he'd been bubbly and happy and chatty. He stole pancakes from the service plate when she made them, show her YouTube videos that Piper talked about and left messes around the apartment. He acted a bit too happy. A bit too childish and carefree, when he first got in. There was a regression, Sally thought, as the adrenaline of the summer and the happiness of being home gave way to bigger demons that were much harder to beat.

She knew that nightmares were a bigger issue than usual, she'd noticed unprecedented wavering in his monstrous appetite, she'd seen him startle and jump at loud noises… A new set of habits based in fear, habit, paranoia, insecurity, hyperawareness… Sally would lie if she said that she didn't know what was going on, she'd been unable to tolerate the smell of even the finest wines for a long time after getting rid of Gabe. But it was so hard to bring up when Percy didn't want to hear it- which was understandable since every single attempt he'd made to talk about the summer's quest and wars plunged him in an even worst state than before.

"Hey, thanks for answering the door, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said swinging into the bathroom. She frowned as she zeroed in on her soaking boyfriend and the strange new dog.

"I was busy Wise Girl," Percy said.

The dog looked even happier to see Annabeth before, like, hey a new person! She even had the manners to shake the dampness out of her fur before jumping on Annabeth. Of course, they were all soaked anyways, but nobody seemed to mind. Percy laughed louder, and Annabeth abandoned all resolve at this point to also kneel down and pet the dog as well.

Sally watched them both, crouched on the tiled floor.

And Sally thought that maybe the dog could do better than Percy's plan of she-can-sleep-in-the-spare-blankets-and-have-the-meatballs-from-the-spaghetti.

"Can you set water to boil for the pasta?" Sally asked Paul as she put her coat on.

"Sure," he said. "Where are you off to?"

"The pet store a block away," Sally said. "This dog's going to have to eat while she's here."

Sally came back with a jumbo-bag of kibble.

"She may stay a while," she explained to Paul.

Thankfully, the dog was a pretty quiet type. Percy had rushed home from school as soon as he could to check on her. She'd been locked in his room, and from what Percy could tell she'd spent the day sleeping on his bed or playing with the tennis balls he'd left for her to find as last-minute toys. Same as she had yesterday.

She'd been more than content to follow Percy around from the second she saw him again, insisting to be petted and played with and bringing tennis balls to him. Percy moved the water bowl to the kitchen and gave her more food and settled down to try and do homework despite the dog's whining.

But who was he kidding. The dog was a lot more fun.

Later that evening once Mom and Paul were home, he actually did settle down for homework. Paul was playing footsies with the dog while he corrected tests.

He really couldn't get much done, however. It was raining out and the constant drip of rain drops made Percy uncomfortable and awkward and jittery from his spot in the living room.

"Percy, get up and walk around if you need to," Mom said.

"I'm fine," he said trying to focus on whatever the hell it was that Hamlet was doing.

When the thunder started, Percy lost his cool. It was too much. He'd always hated thunder, even as a kid, and suddenly it was everywhere just like during the final battle and just like during the storm and just like during the- during the-

"Percy, breathe."

Just that kind reminder suddenly made Percy realised that he couldn't breathe either and that was a very good reason not to be calm and boom, the thunder started again…

The dog suddenly started jumping around his foot, playing footsies with him instead. Percy tried to kick her away, and she bounced right back, pawing at his foot like it was a game. And it was a game, that Percy was more than happy to play instead of think back to that storm on the Argo II, when Jason had gone underwater, gods of Olympus, he could have lost him, gods drowning was horrible…

The dog hopped onto his lap, pushing his copy of Hamlet to the ground. Percy sunk into the couch and stroked her back, scratched that spot behind her head…

He'd started breathing again on his own.

"Thanks, Cleo," Percy said still breathlessly. The dog panted happily and moved her head where she wanted it scratched.

Paul gave Percy the collar for the dog- blue with white polka dots.

"For Cleo," Paul said. "That's what you call her, right?"

"The dog?" Percy asked. He was sprawled on his bed- himself, his biology notes and Cleo each taking a third of the space.

"That's what you call her, right?" Paul said. "Yeah. That's what we got them to write on the collar."

Percy's jaw dropped.

"She's a good dog, you've taught her tricks, we've already been looking for her family for two weeks and she… she's good for you," Paul said. "We'll go grab her license next weekend."

Percy's jaw dropped more.

"Oh, come on," Paul said. "As if you thought we'd make you send her back."

To be perfectly clear, it was actually Annabeth's idea to bring Cleo on their date. It wasn't a bad idea; since they'd just gotten a proper collar Cleo was still new to long walks in New York, which meant that Central Park was still uncharted territories.

Cleo had a blast running around. Annabeth had gone to a college presentation recently and had gotten a promotional Frisbee that Cleo was totally in love with.

Cleo was running back to their picnic blanket with the Frisbee in her mouth. They were talking about a prank war that Jason had (unwisely) started with Cabin 9 (the fight had a 1:19 ratio, Jason being the pathetic loser whose sole victory was removing the tiles on Cabin 9's roof the night before he felt the rain coming), when Annabeth frowned. Cleo had frozen and dropped the Frisbee, and she was growling now.

"Cleo!" Percy said.

Then she barked sharply and the way that she looked at something behind Percy… He turned around and realised that Cleo was actually barking at a lone cannibal giant wandering around.

"Cleo come here," Percy said getting up. "Wise Girl, time to pack up."

"I see him now," Annabeth said. "He's not going to come to us in public- not when he's alone."

"Is he alone?" Percy asked.

"Cleo seems to think so," Annabeth pointed out. Cleo was back at Percy's side, standing by his feet and looking up at him happily.

"Did you know that she barked at monsters?" Annabeth asked.

"Well she did it once," Percy said. "That's how I found her. I just hadn't realised that she did it for all of them…"

"She wants to keep you safe," Annabeth said. "You, Cleo, are someone I can get along with…"

"Great," Percy said. "Now I have two of you to hold onto."

Percy was fighting the giants.

He could hear Jason and Jupiter calling on thunder and lighting behind him, he heard a lion roar and pounce, the clang of weapons and armour all around him…

He saw his own father, wielding his trident. They made eye contact. Poseidon clenched his fist and brought the weapon down, just as the earth gave away under Percy's feet for just a moment before a spring burst into life under him, giving him lift and an entirely new, funner, fuller weapon to fight the giant with.

He turned back to Poseidon, but the god was gone. All the gods were gone. All his friends were gone. All the mountains and trees and cracks in the earth that could possibly find their ways to a map as markers were gone. Everything was gone but the giants, and without the spring propelling him upwards he fell to the ground. The giants were on him in a second, leaning over him. The shadows felt dark and heavy against Percy's skin. He felt like a little boy in the dark, tucked in bed and waiting for the monsters to get him.

The monsters loomed over him closer and closer. Percy couldn't get up, he was pinned to the ground. He felt the warm breath of the giants against every alert nerve of his body. Then he felt something wet against his cheek. The giants' roaring and archaic Greek babble and the thunder of their footsteps faded and suddenly all he heard was panting and slurping and he felt a tiny pressure against his chest and arms…

He shot upright and everything made sense. It was Cleo leaning over him, a paw on his chest and another on his collarbone. He could feel his face tingled where she'd licked him awake. She kept licking Percy's nose and curled up against his chest until he started to pet her. She settled down on his lap for real, and Percy could swear that Cleo could feel his heart beating. Still, she curled up against him. She was even more comforting than the nightlight that he kept plugged into his wall, which had become his only source of comfort when he woke up at night in the dark.

Percy had never woken up from a nightmare better.

"I guess I didn't close my door right after all," Percy said. "I'm glad it worked out, girl. I think I'm gonna ask the parents if you can sleep here every night."

Cleo barked her accord.

"Shh, it's late," Percy said. "Here, can you… yeah, just crash here for tonight. Down, girl. Down…"

Percy had never fallen asleep so soundly after a nightmare either

They'd moved the coffee table to give Cleo, Aurum and Argentum more room to rough play while the Seven sat in the kitchen. Well, "seven". They weren't exactly seven- Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Piper, Hazel, Frank, Reyna, Nico… Not to mention that Will could have been there just as easily, and often was to be honest. And it wasn't the actual prophecy Seven, but whatever. They were currently all over Sally Jackson's kitchen at the moment.

Cleo had interrupted a conversation on what the senate was currently horsing around with by coming to check in on Percy and lick his hands before going to check out Hazel and Frank (who heavily intrigued Cleo, especially since he had been a Newly Acquired Dog Friend twenty minutes ago, and that Cleo seemed super concerned that Aurum and Argentum would ditch her too).

"She's such a beautiful dog," Hazel said scratching between Cleo's ears (Percy had told her it was Cleo's Achilles' heel when he'd seen how her face melted when she'd seen the dog. Percy was super proud of Cleo for not barking at his Underworld cousins like crazy).

"Yeah," Percy said. "We won't have trouble finding her another home."

"What?" Piper asked. "You're getting rid of her?"

"Not by choice," Percy snapped. Jason shot him a look. "I'm sorry, it's… the building's policy is changing. By November 1st we won't be allowed to have pets in here anymore. So unless Cleo works on her goldfish impersonation…"

He didn't want to wrap up that topic. Cleo trotted over and propped her paws on his knees, licking his face.

"Wait, doesn't Cleo classify as a service dog?" Reyna asked.

"A what?" Percy asked.

Reyna frowned. "A service dog. For PTSD."

They kept looking at her crooked.

"I'm sorry, I was sure that she was," Reyna said. "She does a lot of the things that Aurum and Argentum did for me when I got off of Blackbeard's ship. She picks up on your nervous habits and calms you down and wakes you up and steers other people away from you when you want space and distracts you when you're getting angsty…"

"I…" Percy said. "I didn't know I had… PTSD…"

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, right?" Nico asked. He was unsure; he knew more about the dead than those who managed to keep living, after all. Then again, none of the Seven were particularly versed in anything other than the act of war itself. The "after" didn't matter much when you had no idea if you'd make it there.

"Right," Reyna said. "It's common in soldiers, but anything traumatising like abuse or assaults or accidents can trigger it."

"Shell Shock," Hazel said. "That's what they called it after the Great War. One of my mom's regulars had lost an ear in the trenches. He'd been studying to be a doctor before, but he kept having these visions of the trenches once he got home and he ended up… I guess nobody really took care of him and everything just got worst."

"PTSD's the clinical name now," Jason told her. "A third of the legion was diagnosed after the Titan War."

"We're lucky the numbers aren't soaring after this war," Reyna said. "I suppose it was quite far from home… at any rate, it's harder to diagnose in demigods. We're built to tolerate a certain amount of inhumanity and cruelty and violence- it's hard to know when it'll be too much. Our battle senses can help us process all of that, we're used to strange dreams and sleep problems. But PTSD isn't a flaw or a mistake. It can happen to everyone."

Percy looked at Cleo.

"Do you think I have that?" Percy asked nervously.

"We've all changed," Piper interceded. "There's no question there. Or shame."

"I'm not a doctor," Reyna said. "But there are some in New Rome."

"Chiron knows a lot about it too," Annabeth said. "Your mom's been worried too."

"My mother's always worried," Percy said.

"It doesn't mean she's not right," Frank said. "I know that my grandmother and mom fought about it all the time. The effect that going to Afghanistan had on her and all that."

Percy ignored that. "And people with PTSD- dogs can help them?"

"It's not as common as seeing-eye dogs and it's a newer idea," Reyna said. "But yes, there are organisations that train dogs."

"That's how we got around with Aurum and Argentum on quests," Jason said.

"Right," Reyna said. "Service animals are allowed to go wherever the general public is allowed. By law."

Percy kept looking at Cleo. "It would make sense…"

"You need to talk to a doctor first," Annabeth said. "Or someone. Anyone."

"I talk to you all the time," Percy said defensively.

"Yes, but I'm not much better now am I?" Annabeth said.

Cleo rested her head on Percy's knees.

"It would make a lot of sense," Percy said.

"And if they legally recognise that Cleo helps you live better, you wouldn't lose her," Piper said.

Percy nodded and ran a hand through Cleo's fur.

"Percy, if Cleo's your service dog, you're acknowledging that there's something different," Mom said. "This isn't just about keeping a dog."

"I know," Percy said. "I know, I… I know."

Mom smiled and took Percy in her arms.

"Wonderful," she said. "Wonderful. And we will never have anything to say against Cleo sticking close, but you need to work on things too. Cleo's there to help, but she can't do it alone."

"I know," Percy said. "Mom, I… If Cleo can keep me on my feet, then it's okay to need the help. I just don't want to be a problem."

"Sweetie…" Mom said.

"I was supposed to come home," Percy said. "But it didn't feel as if I ever got off the battlefield with all the things going wrong. But you love me so much and you do so much to keep me safe and you cook all my food and help with all my homework, and I… I didn't want to lose that, or make you feel as if that wasn't enough or…"

"Oh, Percy," Mom said. She kissed his hair. "You have never, ever been anything more than a gift."

Percy smiled a bit. "I was talking to Reyna because she knows a lot about this stuff, and she was telling me that it takes weeks for dogs to be approved by boards and stuff, so Cleo might need a place to stay until then… Jason said he could watch her, but I don't want to send her away and…"

"Oh, honey," Sally said. She rummaged through a teetering pile of bills and junk mail to retrieve a very official looking piece of paper. "Don't you think I still have at least a little power over your father? Apparently, these papers weren't even hard to obtain."

Percy's jaw dropped, and he made sure to read every single line of the stupid, complicated document that made Cleo his before calling out her name and plopping down on the floor where she could better lick his face and paw at him and mess with his hair.

Percy woke up spitting out fur.

"Cleo," he moaned. "You can't sit on my face- I sleep with my mouth open, we've talked about this, girl…"

"Percy, don't feed your dog marshmallows," Sally said.

"She deserves it," Percy said. "You sniffed a half-reptile substitute teacher from three classes away before I even saw her, now didn't you? Didn't you girl? That is marshmallow-deserving material."

"Which one?" Paul asked, concerned.

"Mrs. Rainsbury," Percy said. "You know, the little old lady with the Cruella De Vil hair and the red framed glasses?"

"Okay," Paul said. "I'll scrape her off my list of subs to call in, then. What a good girl Cleo, did you want pretzels?"

"It's bad enough that you two are snacking before supper, do you really need to wreck the dog's appetite too?" Sally sighed.

For Christmas, Cleo got homemade dog treats from Sally and a chew toy that looked like a hydra from Annabeth with a squeaker in each head. Percy got her a pack of twelve Frisbees, and he thought that he was her favourite.

Percy's stomach was rumbling a bit, as he held Cleo's leash against his knee. Cleo was just happily panting as she looked around Principal Newman's office.

For the record, this was totally Paul's idea. Once he found out that there was a freshman in his class who had a seizure-assistance dog at home that had never come to school, and a diabetic sophomore with a labradoodle; he'd said he'd had to do it. He'd brought it up with the school administration that "hey, service animals are allowed to be at school why don't we make it even more than that?", and lo and behold. Four new service dogs were going to school for the first time ever after Christmas break. Four, because a new girl had transferred from another school after hearing about the program and figuring that her seeing-eye dog would be better accommodated than at whatever hell hole of the public education system she'd come from.

"I know that we've already talked this over quite extensively," Principal Newman said, "but the service animals have rights. Students have been informed during their last monthly meetings that service animals are not to be touched and not to be called out by name while they're wearing their vests. You don't have to answer any questions about what your dog's role is, either. If there are any problems, my office will be open anytime, any day. We are happy to have you all.

"Now, you all have times to swing by your lockers before first period. Have a wonderful day."

And so they were off.

As it turned out, Cleo was a better student than Percy and whenever he zoned out or started looking out the window, or doodling on his desk, she'd paw his knee.

Annabeth thought that that was just hilarious. Until they started kissing over Spanish homework and Cleo barked at them to get them under control and back to their books. That wasn't as cool.

At Camp, Percy found that he didn't need Cleo as much to sleep well or relax. Knowing that the safety borders were holding and being able to walk around heavily armed and in armour probably helped. But that didn't mean that he didn't bring her for weekend trips.

Cleo was a big fan of swimming, though she preferred the beach to the lake because the dryads were just annoying. She liked volleyball as well, although she had stolen a ball once (she had started to understand that when she was wearing the vest or when Percy felt shitty, she was working- but she could get quite mischievous off duty, much to the Stoll brothers' delight).

Cleo had this unexplainable fascination with Mr D, which Percy thought was unnatural and weird and may get her transformed into a bush some day. Similarly, Chiron's horse half seemed to confuse her- particularly when he was sitting in his wheelchair but she could still smell him. She picked fights with Peleus the dragon and played tug-of-war with Clarisse and Jake Mason was teaching her how to "fetch" different tools in the forge.

And if the Romans were visiting that weekend? Oh, watch out. Cleo liked shiny things.

"Are you going to keep working for the legion?" Jason asked Reyna as he popped open another can of Diet Coke. The three of them were curled up in Percy's cabin along with Nico and Hazel since their respective cabins were… well, empty. They usually huddled in one of theirs with a bunch of stolen food or illicit snacks snuck in by Reyna or Frank's praetorian authority, or Nico's shadow-traveling. Cleo was currently curled up on a half-eaten bag of cool ranch Doritos and a jumbo chocolate bar that Jason had been saving for Reyna's next visit. The current topic of discussion was: "WOW, Reyna was a year away from retirement from the legion!"

"I think so," Reyna said. "At least for a few more years, to get the Legion back on its feet after the wars. I can't just leave Zhang."

"Heaven forbid," Percy said. Frank made a face and a grab for the popcorn.

"Are you going to take up the praetor scholarship at NRU?" Jason asked.

"Gods no," Reyna said. "I'm not one for the books. You cannot make me learn things. I think I have a third grade education, formally-speaking. I'm also technically a missing person, but that's besides the point."

"So what would you do?" Nico asked.

Reyna paused. "I'd train dogs."

"Dogs?" Percy asked.

"Dogs like Cleo and Aurum and Argentum," Reyna said. "Service dogs. For demigods and veterans, specifically. I mean, look at how good Cleo is for you. I've never seen you in better shape, Percy. And not just you, but on all of us. Even Annabeth lightens up around Cleo and having a dog around camp here, based on what I've seen, just… it's therapeutic. If my father had had that kind of help… I probably wouldn't be here," she admitted. "And in a good way."

"There's no good way not to have you around," Nico said.

Reyna made a face, he grimaced back.

"I think that's a great idea," Hazel said.

"It is," Jason said.

"What a trendsetter you are," Percy said reaching out to rub Cleo's head. She raised her head lazily, Dorito crumbs matted into her fur, before resting again, this time on Percy's knees.

Percy woke up in the staircase and he was immediately 100% that he was going to die. He felt like he was drowning, and when you were drowning, you died.

"It's alright, Percy," a friendly teacher-type voice said. It took a while for Percy to figure out where they were- or to realise that he was laying on a stretcher and being carried out of Goode.

"Cleo-" he gasped.

"Try to stay still," the teacher said as he followed the paramedics out. "There was a power outage and you collapsed. You hit your head, we need to take you to the hospital just to make sure you don't have a-"

"Cleo," Percy gasped. He swore to the stinking gods that he wouldn't make it to the hospital he couldn't breathe, there was no air in Tartarus, everything smelled like death and monster and the kind of smoke that poured into your lungs and never came out.

"Percy, stay still-" a paramedic said.

"My dog," Percy said. "Where's Cleo where's my dog I need Cleo I need-"

"Sweetie, your dog's safe at home, relax," the paramedic said.

"Cleo with me," Percy managed to say. He was suddenly wheezy.

"This boy brings his dog to school?" the paramedic asked the teacher. "Wait, is this dog..?"

"Stop, stop!" A familiar voice said behind them. Percy couldn't look up but he heard the tags jingling on Cleo's collar and she hopped on the stretcher to lick Percy's cheeks.

"Cleo's his service dog," he heard Paul bitch in the background. "He needs Cleo with him, why on earth would you separate them? You're lucky she's a smart enough dog to have known where to find me…"

He didn't pay too much attention to that; Cleo was licking his face and he reached up and patted her back. He felt her breathing and his synchronised a bit. He was so relieved, he felt like he might cry.

"Cleo, it was so dark," Percy said. "It was so dark Cleo. One second there was light everywhere and the next it was just darkness, you have no idea…"

She barked and licked his cheeks and Percy took a good, good deep breath. Hey. He could breathe again.

Annabeth helped him add a message in white Sharpie on Cleo's blue service dog vest: DO NOT SEPERATE ME FROM MY OWNER EVER.

As if that wasn't obvious enough as it was. Zeus, people were dumb and insensitive and too curious and incredibly dumb about service animals sometimes. Don't touch. Don't ask, because it's none of your business unless you know the person affected. Don't pry. Don't interfere. Don't. Touch.

While at Camp, Percy found out something else that was wickedly cool about Cleo.

She could bring down a two-hundred pound child of Ares if he came at Percy from behind in the sword rink. She could, and she most certainly did.

Like, what was Percy supposed to do other than pat her on the head and wonder if Cleo was maybe an abandoned or retired K-9 dog or possibly a massive ass gift from the deepest, purest part of Olympus?

(Feed the dog a humongous steak and a small pile of marshmallows at supper, that was what).

"Hey, Cleo, you know what?" Percy asked. "You know what, girl?"

He was using the voice that made her extra-extra excited just because he could. Her tail was about to helicopter-torpedo fly off of her butt.

"We're going to try sleeping without the nightlight on today," Percy said. "Yeah. Yeah we are. It's gonna be dark, but not too bad right girl?"

Cleo's butt kept wagging around. Having a dog was like a perma-cheerleader.

"Right," Percy said. "Just… stay close, okay girl?"

Cleo did stay close. She never left Peryc's side. Unless he asked her to stay at home while he ran a little errand, or when he flew to Camp via Pegasus and decided to give her a weekend off instead of subjecting her to the traumatic experience of flying… (also he was scared that she and Blackjack may be able to communicate and then gang up on him)

On Percy's graduation day -which, it's worth mentioning, was a miracle all in itself- Percy was woken up by Cleo bouncing on the bed excitedly. It took him a while to sit up, acknowledge his lucidity, focus his eyes, and realise that Cleo was so hyper because of… a hat?

"We made it for her," Mom said, just as happy as Cleo. "We figured; well, if you're graduating, and she's graduating- then she needs to wear a graduation cap when she walks across the stage with you, right?"

Percy looked at Cleo once and then laughed.

(And then spent the next twenty minutes being ultra-vigorous as he pet her to make sure that he hadn't hurt his dog, his beautiful dog's, ego).

As it turned out, Reyna was rich. Filthy rich. So filthy rich that she disgusted herself.

This was mostly because her father had been filthy rich before he died, but also because Hylla had used her resources as Queen of the Amazons to sell the house in San Juan. And even more so because Hylla didn't want a single dollar of her inheritance and had therefore transferred it to Reyna- who hadn't known it existed and hadn't needed it, ergo letting an enormous sum of money collect a ridiculous amount of interest in what could only be called a beautiful accident.

Reyna didn't want the money either at first. She and Rachel had commiserated for a bit. But then Reyna did what Reyna did best; she turned pain and blood into something worthwhile.

She bought a huge property in California, south of Camp Jupiter, and made copious sacrifices to Iris to connect the land to Camp Half-Blood. She built a huge fence circling the land, a modest house on it, and an impressive dog kennel to match. She shopped around shelters in San Francisco and San Juan and New York alike, and picked up any dogs that Aurum and Argentum didn't hate on site. She gave jobs to angsty half-bloods and legacies who weren't fit for legion work and to Greek demigods who needed more than camp to survive. Nico di Angelo did her taxes with her. Percy Jackson and Gwen were the veterinarians on call. Jason spent most of his time there and did groceries weekly, to the point that the pet store owners knew him as he came. They also recognised the old, reliable golden retriever who always walked at his side; Marcus.

Reyna housed around 50 dogs at a time, and every month there was a new, rehabilitated stray who was ready to meet his new half-blood owner. The Stoll brothers took care of the paperwork, which was the only truly sketchy part about "Canis Olympia", but Reyna's dogs mysteriously appeared in data banks as certified service animals. When a blinded half-blood stumbled into Camp Half-Blood, there was a dog ready to act as her eyes and her nose only seven months later. That was Aggie, but the list was long. Annabeth's Oliver, Hazel's Ruby, Will's Lux, Katie's Holly… The dogs kept coming, and they kept going, and there kept being this incredible demand for them. Eventually, to continue receiving income for food and clothes and such, Reyna started training dogs for mortals as well.

It was Thanksgiving, now. Summer had just ended, and it'd been a crazy blitz of incoming half-bloods and the administrative mess of matching dogs and owners. There were now only thirteen dogs on her land; this was Reyna's time to breathe.

Well, nearly.

Most of the guests had dogs. Oliver, Ruby, Lux, Marcus, Bones, Sabina and Helen were currently all jumping and prancing as their owners finished up dinner.

Oh, and Cleo.

Cleo had started it all, and so it was only normal that she was the one who came out of this with a thousand new friends and a bunch of new Frisbees to play with every time she visited.