Disclaimer: I am not, and will never be, Rick Riordan. Sadly, this means I don't own Percy Jackson.

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD symptoms.

"I've heard it on the chillest land/And on the strangest sea/Yet never, in extremity/It asked a crumb on me."

-Emily Dickinson, on the subject of hope

"That is an. . .impressively complicated tale."

As he spoke, Chiron leaned forward in his wheelchair, steepling his fingers as he studied the two of them, and Percy shared a nervous apprehensive look with Hazel.

Chiron had been nearly silent once they had begun to explain what happened after a brief, but heartfelt wave of relief from the centaur on seeing that Percy—and to a lesser degree, Hazel—were alive, in one piece, and not driven insane by torture.

It was Percy's personal favorite demigod happy ever after. Just in his opinion.

The fond relief had then turned to something analytical in Chiron's gaze as the two demigods had haltingly explained first what had happened in Othrys and Luke's fate. He had taken that part in stride, briefly bowing his head at the confirmation of the loss of Luke. The easy part—and gods, didn't that say something what Percy's life. ("It's easy to judge others. But will you follow Luke's path?")

Then, Percy and Hazel did their best to summarize the apparent bond between Kronos and Percy, Hazel's heritage—causing Chiron to start rubbing at his temples and mutter under his breath, followed by a brief conversation in Latin between Hazel and Chiron that Percy had understood about a third of—and, at long last, the secret Percy had done his damnedest to hide for months from Chiron: the time travel.

At the explanation of what happened, Chiron didn't say anything at first, allowing enough silence to pass that Percy was on the verge of trying to see if it was possible for him to explain himself further before the centaur let out a hoarse bark of what could've been laughter, if it weren't so twisted and resigned.

"Percy, you understand exactly what you claiming here?" Chiron asked urgently; Percy found himself leaning in to hear his question, as if Chiron was scared that if he spoke too loudly he would attract the attention of the gods.

Percy, on his part, would've almost welcomed it, if it wouldn't have guaranteed them dying horribly all over again.

"Yeah. I know," he said with a huff, "Believe me, I wish I didn't."

For a long moment, Chiron studied him and Hazel. Whatever he saw made him mutter some more, but Percy was able to catch a little of the Greek this time: "River Styx", "Achilles never", and "god of alcohol."

Gods, did Percy wish.

The centaur pulled himself together quickly, though, and he lapsed back into the role of Percy's teacher.

"The list of immortals with the power to do what you claim is very short, my boy," Chiron said, solemn. "Perhaps a Protogenos would be capable of it, but they cared little for corporeal affairs when I was young, let alone today. The only other who could possibly be capable of this is the Lord of Time himself. But this. . .Kronos manipulates time. He does not rewind time as a ball of yarn, and half-blood souls certainly do not fall under his domain, whatever familial connection there may be."

Rewind time as a ball of yarn. The phrase stuck in Percy's mind, reminding him of all those years ago when he had really been twelve old, and he had cluelessly watched three old ladies knit socks of death. ("Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?")

"They may not be his domain," Hazel asserted. She watched Chiron with a burning gaze and tense shoulders, as if she was prepared to run the moment he proved a danger. "But the Parcae are the ones who might have some control outside the gods of the Underworld, wouldn't they? Saturn and Prometheus said they had done it to us."

Chiron frowned. "The Fates? Yes, I suppose. Now, if the both of you would willing, I would quite like to hear—"

"Wait a minute, just wait. You'll believe us? Just like that?" Percy demanded. "I tell you about time travel and bonds with Titans and losing your best fighter and the end of the actual freaking world, you're going to listen to me? Not even make me swear an oath on the River Styx or something?"

Acceptance was one thing, but this? While he wouldn't describe Chiron as paranoid, he was certainly cautious, and Percy had to have just made a bid for top five most unbelievable stories Chiron had ever heard as a teacher of heroes—or that anyone else had ever heard, frankly.

The maybe-not-so-delusional part of Percy—the one that believed they wouldn't all die horrible deaths was beginning to win despite his better instincts and the memories Percy had rattling around in his head—was beginning to win out over the rest of him. He almost couldn't breathe, the sensation of actual hope, hope not dependent on him, so foreign it was almost paralyzing.

Chiron, for his part, was looking far too amused beneath his beard for the depressing conversation they were having.

"Percy," Chiron began, "If you were looking to destroy Olympus, all you needed to accomplish was slow down your June quest enough to ensure the Master Bolt would never have made it back to Zeus in time, and thus begin war. Instead, you have not only preserved peace among the gods, but have ensured the safety and allegiance of two more potential candidates for the Great Prophecy. You have raised the alarm about the Titans. If you are a traitor, you are not a particularly good one."

Hazel gave a quiet snicker. Percy wondered if he should be offended.

"You can, of course, swear an oath if you wish, and you may yet be asked to, but I find your story, as patently absurd as it is," Chiron said, suddenly looking a lot like an ancient, exhausted teacher, "A logical explanation for many, if not all of the inexplicable things this past summer. I have searched for a good explanation for a long while, and I have failed in that regard. I believe you."

Percy wished he had his own wheelchair to sag into with relief. As soon as the heady feeling of being believed by Chiron washed over Percy, so did his memories of betrayal that they would have to contend with. Chiron still didn't know the half of it, and Percy had his eyes set on that Most Difficult Demigod In The Actual History Of Ever award. And then there were. . .other things.

("Do you have any idea how dry one's throat gets after three thousand years?")

("I am Thalia, daughter of Zeus.")

("This is my fault." "—Silena, how is it your fault?")

It wasn't like "I trust Percy, and he'd be a terrible traitor anyway," would hold up anywhere else, anyway.

"I swear on the River Styx that I have memories of six years of my life that have yet to happen, Chiron."

Chiron inhaled sharply as thunder boomed outside. "Percy, you don't know what you're—"

"I swear on the River Styx that I died at the end of the world, and that everything I said earlier was the truth," Percy said firmly, suddenly very grateful for fighting with Annabeth on the porch. It made it easier to get the words out.

"Me too," Hazel suddenly added, her chin up in a stubborn tilt, "I swear on the River Styx that I witnessed months of my life that have yet to happen. I swear on the River Styx that I was at the end of the world, and that everything I said earlier was the truth."

Judging from Chiron's face, Percy felt pretty sure he'd managed to surprise him for the twenty-third time in the past ten minutes. . .and was just a little bit bitter that the vow had clearly been needed for Chiron's full belief in their story. Not that, you know, Percy was actually surprised. He had spent a solid twenty minutes convinced he was suffering a hallucination at first, after all.

But not being believed by the rare teacher he had loved never hurt any less.

When Chiron did respond, it was not what Percy had expected.

"It was you, I imagine," Chiron said quietly, "You were the half-blood of the Great Prophecy. I am sorry, Percy."

Percy nearly yelped in surprise. It couldn't have been that obvious—but Chiron only gave him a wry smile. "I know the look of someone who has suffered through a prophecy, my boy, and I suspect the two of you have seen multiple. You tend to share certain traits after bearing it, particularly a rather odd sense of honor."

Hazel stiffened slightly at the accusation. Feeling only slightly calmer about the whole thing, Percy admitted, "It's a habit we can't seem to kick."

"Such are the fates of heroes, sadly. But that is a discussion we have to put aside for another day soon. For now, I would like to ask you further about this travel through time, and the connection between you and Kronos, Percy. If he was in fact involved with this reset of time, for lack of a better phrase. . ." Chiron trailed off, his brow furrowing. "Could both of you describe exactly what happened when he told you? How did he explain it?"

Percy swallowed on reflex, feeling a bit nauseous; even thinking about it made his head feel like it was burning all over again. Nothing but golden burning consuming him.

The more he thought about what it had looked like to him, actually, the more he felt like he'd seen it somewhere else else.

"It was awful," Hazel said frankly, oblivious to Percy's thoughts, "He just sort of moved his hand, Percy collapsed, and then started screaming. When he stopped it, he said that it was him touching Percy's mind, I think, and that it nearly destroyed him."

She shuddered as she recollected the horrible day, and reached out unconsciously for Percy's hand. "He said that the Fates had arranged it. That he had no choice in the matter, and their souls were connected."

"I see," Chiron said, giving nothing away in his face or voice, "Percy, if you're willing?"

Percy nodded maybe a bit more than necessary. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it started when I first showed up here. I was really confused, but I do remember after talking with Luke for the first time that I maybe saw something gold-ish flash in the water? I wasn't really paying attention."

Chiron's mouth tightened at the edges. "Go on."

"It was the same color when Kronos did all of that with my head," Percy said, vaguely waving his hand to indicate the mind-fuckery bond. Thing. "That and feeling like my skull was on fire and melting are the only things I remember. Not fun."

"I'd imagine not," Chiron said dryly, but the brief glint of humor in his eyes faded away quickly. "Your mind could not comprehend how a god sees the world, much less someone like Kronos, to whom things like time are fluid. To be honest, my boy, you are lucky to be with us and completely sane."

Percy grimaced and carded his fingers through his hair at that charming revelation. Meanwhile, Hazel asked in quick succession, "Was he telling the truth, then? That they're tied to each other? That Percy. . .Percy's helping Kronos stay alive?"

"I do not know, my dear. I have never been inclined to take the Crooked One at his word, but this is the kind of power and interference not seen since well before my memory, and his is far longer than mine." Chiron's voice was heavy, and his gaze lingered on Percy. "I wish I knew more. Looking into something like this would take time, and discretion. You do not wish to inform Olympus—"

"No way. No," Percy said sharply, his heart pounding at the suggestion.

"Not now, when there's so much left after what's happened," Hazel agreed. She looked slightly calmer than Percy, but her grip on his hand was white-knuckled and tight.

Telling his closest friends and having it ripped out of him by Triton was one thing. Telling the whole freaking Council? Percy didn't feel like finally finding out what a jackalope was. Or being thrown into Tartarus.

At that pleasant idea, Percy began to measure his breathing to try to keep his cool.

It had been a freak accident last time, he reminded himself as Hazel gave him a quick reassuring look. He had people who wouldn't just let him suffer the worst punishment the gods could give.

He wasn't going back. He wasn't going back there. It would be fine.

"You understand what you are saying, of course," Chiron pressed, "They will find out. One way or another, whether it's from you or someone else, tomorrow or five years from now. They will find out, and will not take kindly to any of us hiding secrets from them. Certain gods may take it as treasonous."

Percy didn't immediately respond, looking to Hazel. He'd take any punishment on himself alone if he could, but Zeus had a history that leaned more towards generously dispensing the transformations into small mammals and quality time with the Furies.

Gods, what were they doing?

Hazel tilted her chin up, her eyes glittering with defiance. "Okay. Will you tell them?"

"Of course not, Miss Levesque." Chiron's face softened beneath his brown beard. "You may not have been meant to be my student in particular, but you are here now. I will protect you and Percy to the best of my ability, limited as it may be. My oaths bind me to silence on certain matters, but I can help."

I will protect you and Percy. I can help.

Percy sagged in his chair, feeling like he was about to fly apart with relief. Hazel similarly relaxed, letting out a shaky sigh and rubbing her eyes.

It felt surreal, after those hellish days in Othrys and draining conversations with Annabeth, Grover, and his mother.

To have Chiron believe them, like he had campers constantly claiming they'd just gone through the apocalypse a couple years from now and needed him to keep the Very Bad Thing secret. ("—It is your quest. But you need help.")

Part of Percy was bracing for the other shoe filled with death and doom and probably something weird like a secret government organization to drop, with loopholes like oaths on the River Styx and Chiron talking them through everything to solve their problems like mature adults done with.

The other, possibly delusional part of Percy thought that the feeling of something not unlike hope unfurling in his chest today was nice, and wanted to keep it up.

("If I'm right, it's the only way you'll stand a chance.")

"What now, then? I mean, there's a lot, Chiron," Percy said, feeling slightly helpless as he thought about it all. He had his notebook for thing that weren't yet affected, sure, but Percy didn't doubt there was plenty that he had forgotten. "You could make a really interesting history course on those six years, and I'd fail that exam. Before being kidnapped, I was just kind of going with things as they came along, and I still don't know how we ended up here."

Thankfully, Chiron didn't seem too perturbed by the questions. "To answer your first question, Percy, I do believe you'll find it in why Annabeth and Grover were so adamant on you telling them everything. As for the second, I believe have a theory. But since the Earth Mother triumphed as you claimed, it is a tenuous one. The Lord of Time would never erase such a favorably. . .permanent defeat of Olympus—and he would never work with children of Zeus, or hand you such an advantage in a coming war. Not willingly."

Percy barely stopped himself from snorting at the word advantage. It certainly hadn't felt like it lately. But that was quickly washed away by confusion as he turned over the mystery in his head.

"He couldn't, though. He couldn't do much of anything, from what you—other you said, that he would take centuries to reform just a little bit, that his essence had been scattered to the four winds."

Whatever that meant; Percy wasn't up to date with the latest discoveries on the scattering of godly souls; he just knew that "Scattered, takes centuries to reform" equaled "Not anyone's problem", which in turn meant that he and his friends all got to sleep a bit better at night.

"Clearly not," Chiron said, cold bitterness lacing his voice. "Seeing as we've lost Luke to him in such a final manner."

Hazel gave him a confused frown at this. "But you won, last time. I wasn't there, but Percy was. You beat him last time. My camp had marched on Othrys and razed it to the ground, and you defended Olympus."

"The Great Prophecy came true, Chiron," Percy added with a nod, before saying, with no small amount of incredulity, even over a year later, "We beat him."

Chiron took off his glasses, running a hand down his face and through his beard. "Really? That's. . .a great relief to know. A. . .truly, truly great relief. Thank you, Percy."

When he looked back up at the two of them, it was the same serious expression as before—but his eyes were blazing with hope.

("All we can do, child, is follow our destiny.")

"You know, I always figured your camp would be bigger, somehow," Hazel told Percy once they had gotten past the lava rock-climbing wall in Percy's slightly unimpressive tour of the camp.

This, of course, was after the longest conversation with a teacher in Percy's life. Possibly a contender to finally beat the time Mrs. Dodds tried to kill him off the pedestal of "Most Painful", too.

Chiron had wanted all the details Percy could recall about the Sea of Monsters for the Golden Fleece quest, including every single monster he had seen, let alone fought, just to begin with.

It hadn't helped that at the time, thirteen-year-old Percy had been more pre-occupied with being turned into an actual guinea pig and the whole not-actually-his-quest-but-Clarisse-needed-his-help-anyway thing. By the time Chiron had let them go, Percy felt like his brain had been dried out, rehydrated, and then wrung out again for good measure.

And that was before Percy had brought up the Labyrinth.

"We're a summer camp," Percy grumbled, feeling compelled to defend his camp's honor. He had liked New Rome, sure, but Camp Half-Blood was still home. "Like, six people live here year-round right now who aren't harpies, satyrs, or Chiron."

Mr. D was still recalled to Olympus, apparently. Percy just hoped they didn't have a repeat of Tantalus.

They made their way into a peaceful-looking bit of the forest. He and Hazel walked past what looked like a knife-fighting lesson with Cabins Eleven and Six, and Percy winced at the looks thrown his way from the children of Hermes; they ranged from unfriendly to downright vengeful. Hazel sidled closer to him as he sped up his pace.

"You have to ignore them," she said under her breath. "Trust me, you won't get anywhere by reacting except making them angrier."

"I know," he gritted out. This wasn't his first rodeo. They were grieving. They didn't know what had happened. Travis Stoll looking at him like he was going to poison Percy's food was a natural result that would pass sooner or later.

"Hey, Jackson! Didn't you miss us?"

Percy's shoulders stiffened. Chris Rodriguez. Joy.

"Keep. Walking," Hazel warned.

"Jackson, why are you ignoring me? Don't you wanna talk to us?" Chris said, all fake sincerity.

Percy stopped, despite Hazel's hissed warning that he would regret it. He turned around reluctantly and got a good look of Chris, already knowing what he would see. He distantly noted everyone else stopping their sparring to watch the fireworks.

This wasn't Clarisse, bullying with the intent of calling him punk and throwing him in the river. This was something angry and calculated, meant for an audience.

"Don't you wanna talk to Luke's siblings?" someone Percy didn't recognize called out of the Cabin Eleven group, joining in. Chris smirked triumphantly, and it helped Percy's temper simmer down just a little. This wasn't aimed at Percy. Not really.

It made sense, considering Percy distinctly remembered running into Chris as part of Luke's army during the quest for the Golden Fleece.

"I mean, it makes sense that you don't want to," Chris said, pretending to think it over, "Considering you left him to d—"

"Rodriguez!" Annabeth yelled before Percy could draw Riptide. She broke off what looked like a one-sided match with a resigned Malcolm Pace to stalk towards Chris. She looked furious, and not with Percy for once. "Think you're good enough to beat the rest of us if you're not going to practice?"

"I'm just talking with our friend Percy here, Annabeth," Chris answered, smarmy enough to make even the Stolls' twin venomous glares at Percy falter. "Maybe ask him a few questions about what happened to our counselor and brother."

Annabeth raised a eyebrow. "By implying that Percy Jackson would've left Luke to die for the rest of your cabin to hear? You know nothing about what happened except that the two were friends, Rodriguez. . .unless you know something we don't?"

Clearly caught in his act, by Annabeth's scornful words, Rodriguez began to shift on his feet, but she had smelled the blood in the water.

"Get back here. You can spar me next, if you think you have time to talk," Annabeth threatened. Malcolm gave a sigh of relief behind her as Rodriguez paled.

Hazel took the chance to practically drag Percy away deeper into the forest.

Once out of earshot and view of the the two cabins, she fixed him with a stern look. "I know I'm new to this in your camp, but you can't rise to the bait every time and get anything done. Annabeth won't always be able to bail you out."

"I know," Percy said irritably. "But he was in Kronos's army last time. He worked for Luke. He eventually turned back, but. . .he tried to kill us, Hazel."

"And? He hasn't done anything yet, Percy. He may never join this time," Hazel argued.

"Are you really arguing for Chris Rodriguez?" Percy said incredulously. ("He's a spy for Luke. It can't be a coincidence.")

Hazel sighed. "No. I'm arguing for you, Percy, and not cutting your nose off to spite your face. Besides, you did the same for Luke Castellan, didn't you?"

That stopped Percy dead. Because, well, he did. ("Chris was brave. I hope he gets better.")

Percy had possessed absolutely no reason to go anywhere near Luke Castellan, with every reason and then some to turn him in or kill him. Di Immortales, it wasn't like the gods were prone to asking too many questions about this sort of thing if he had told them what had happened, as grim as it was to think about.

Percy couldn't help but think of Clarisse, and how determined she'd been to get through to Chris after they had found him, alone and driven half-mad by the Labyrinth—and was that something Percy didn't want to think about too much right now. Chiron had agreed to have the Dryads act as guards at the entrance for now until they could find Daedalus, but the direct line to camp had come closest to breaking Chiron's resolve to not tell the gods.

"Yeah," Percy said a moment later, his voice hoarse. "Yeah, I did do the same thing."

"I'm not saying you have to be nice to him," Hazel added hurriedly. "Superi, I was furious. But. . ."

"Don't go nuclear over things that might not ever happen. Yet," Percy finished, feeling contemplative.

The name Octavian went unsaid between the two of them, among other people. They didn't need to talk about them yet, and Percy, for one, didn't feel like resurrecting those emotions before he had to. Some things, Percy figured, they'd just come up with a plan for once they got there. And Hazel, at least, hadn't expressed a desire to go to Camp Jupiter any time soon.

A large part of him suspected they were about to spend years arguing over this conversation.

But the two of them kept walking in silence, strolling past Juniper's tree and the stone pile they all pretended had any resemblance worth being called Zeus's Fist, and down to the Zephyros Creek.

"Percy!"

At the high-pitched, painfully familiar voice, Hazel froze. She looked at Percy, her lips parted and eyes wide.

"Is that—" she whispered. "Is that—Nico?"

Percy had just enough time to give her a nod and grin that was positively gleeful, right before he was bowled over by a Nico di Angelo-shaped projectile, exhaling a soft oof as he did so.

"Nico, dude, great to see you, armor," Percy gasped out, trying to hug Nico back in a way that wouldn't give him bruises tomorrow. The nine-year-old obliged, stepping back, grinning up at Percy, and practically bouncing up and down like a puppy. He was in partial armor, with a sheathed sword strapped to his waist that looked far too big for him.

"You're back, you're okay," Nico exclaimed, looking at Percy with such guileless, joyful relief, Percy could hardly believe he was the same grumpy son of Hades he'd known previously.

Then again, Percy thought, considering the way Nico navigated wearing that huge sword with the ease of someone much older than him, maybe not.

Hazel was silently staring at Nico. She looked someone had presented her with a puppy and hit her in the face with a frying pan at the same time.

Bianca, for her part, socked Percy in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Percy whined. "What was that for?"

Not that it had actually hurt, but still. Principle of the matter.

She grumbled something in Italian at him that Percy suspected he was better off not knowing, if Nico's startled snort was anything to judge by.

"Never do that again," she said in English, an accent coloring her emotional words. "Never. That was terrifying."

"I'm sorry, especially about Luke, I—" Percy reflexively began to apologize, thinking of what it would have been like for the di Angelos, down their counselor in Cabin Eleven, and with him gone too, what it would have been like for them—

Bianca socked him again in the shoulder.

"That actually hurt," Percy whinged, and possibly referring to his ego more than his actual shoulder.

"I don't care," Bianca said honestly. Hazel choked, looking between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match. "Don't apologize. You're back. We, Nico and I, we've already lost our memories before the hotel. We've lost our mother. We're not exactly popular in Cabin Eleven. We're not losing you too, Percy."

Percy didn't trust his voice not to crack or doing anything else embarrassing, so he just nodded and gave her a smile that was definitely goofy as hell.

In a calmer manner, Bianca added, giving him a small smile, "We missed you."

She was more confident than he remembered, Percy observed. It had always been there, but whatever had happened at camp while he had been gone had made her unafraid to be brash. Her hair was braided back from her face, and he noticed for the first time that she was dressed in the light armor favored by the archers out of the Apollo cabin.

"Wait a minute," Hazel interjected, looking between them, and back in the direction of Cabins Six and Eleven, "If you're unclaimed, then why aren't you back there with the others?"

"We always skip knife-fighting," Bianca replied with a shrug. "Nico doesn't have the reach, and I prefer the bow. Also, I should not have extra opportunities to stab Chris Rodriguez."

("Cool!" "—No, this is not cool!")

Hazel looked at Percy, who just shrugged. He had told her, and Chris hadn't exactly been pleasant to be around before joining Operation: Restore Buff Gollum the last time.

"Who are you?" Nico asked curiously, looking Hazel up and down. "Do you know who your godly parent is?"

"Nico!" Bianca hissed; her own gaze was a bit suspicious as she looked Hazel up and down, however. "You know not to just ask someone—"

"No! No, it's fine. I'm Hazel Levesque. And yes, I do." The smile Hazel gave Bianca and Nico outshone the sun. "I—"

She looked at Percy, who quickly waved his hand in a negative gesture; he still remembered the incident with Will Solace from what felt like a lifetime ago.

"—cannot tell you right now," Hazel said sheepishly, barely course-correcting in time. "It's complicated."

Bianca's eyes narrowed. "Define 'complicated'."

Maybe once Nico was just a little bit older, Percy considered. Di Immortales, giving the crash course in gods and monsters had been difficult enough. A few millennia's worth of history in one day was about as good idea as sending demigods back in time.

Funny, that.

"Hazel. . .hasn't really been claimed yet," Percy said, trying to stall. Well, it was technically true. Pluto couldn't claim her without acknowledging that she should be dead. "There are rules about that sort of thing. She's a really good friend of mine. We, uh, go way back."

After a second of thought, Bianca slowly nodded, accepting it for now, and Percy let out an mental sigh of relief.

"You'll be with us in Cabin Eleven, then!" Nico piped up, looking thoroughly excited at the prospect. Hazel stared at him, an unbelievably soft look settling onto her features.

"Yeah," she eventually said. "I will be. I look forward to it."

It was watching the three siblings that Percy had an idea. A good one, even, that didn't involve life-or-death stakes.

Hazel hadn't seen all of camp yet, and deserved a chance to get to know Bianca and Nico sans anything world-ending trying to eat them, kill them, or whatever it was this week.

After all, no one said they had to be on world-saving duty all the time. And Percy, frankly, was done for the day.

"Let us show you the beach, Hazel," Percy offered. Hazel looked at him curiously. "I can even call a hippocampus for you to meet, if you want—"

"You can do that?" Bianca asked incredulously, with the same excited glint so often found in Nico's eyes was gleaming in hers.

"They're not Arion, or horses really, but they also. . .sort of are? Kind of," Percy amended, his head cocked to the side as he thought about it, "They're rainbow and shiny, at least."

Hazel giggled, and gave him a warm smile he hadn't seen since they had still been in Camp Jupiter. "I'd love it."

Percy nodded, and then waded into the Zephyros Creek, letting the cool water soak into his shorts. He grinned delightedly at the minnows startled out of the sand.

"Percy, what are you doing?"

"Shortcut?" he said innocently over his shoulder to Bianca. Hazel and Nico, for their parts, were gamely crossing the creek to participate in Percy's possible lunacy. Bianca sighed, shaking her head.

"Annabeth Chase is right. You really are a bit kelp-brained sometimes. We have time, Percy."

And Percy couldn't help it—he laughed.

Bianca di Angelo was more right than she knew.

His warm laughter only became louder and more genuine when Nico leaped out of the water to pull a shrieking Bianca in. He separated the two of them a moment later with a lazy wave of his hand and wall of water—that they promptly found their ways around in order to pull Percy under, much to Hazel's amusement.

He stayed underwater, breathing it in for just a moment: Hazel's startled laughter, Nico's promises of retribution once they made it to the beach, the sound of the fish.

("Wouldn't be Camp Half-Blood if it was peaceful.")

He felt his heart slow down, its beat steady and calm in his ears. They would have time.

("Never forget this summer!")

He let himself be pulled out of the water by the di Angelos.

("I'll see you soon, Percy.")

They would have time.

As Percy Jackson got to his feet, intending to make good on his promises on. . .everything, really, he was suddenly very grateful that it was a sunny day.

A/N: Wow. I fucking did it. I'm going to keep this short and sweet, what with the sequel a-comin' (The first chapter will be posted by the end of the week), but I'd like to thank every single one of you for reading thus far. Seriously, whether you've been here since I first posted over two years ago—Christ, has it really been two years?—or are just reading it today, I appreciate and love you all.

The number of people who have cared about this story in some fashion or another is incredibly humbling, and what it's meant to me these past two years is beyond what words can express. Thank you. Onwards!