Chapter Text
He died in early spring. There was an accident. A bad one. It was a blur. All he could remember was saving his sisters. His three little sisters. All in their teens and beyond now. All of whom had been headed for certain death. He managed to save them. If only just barely.
It was all luck.
He’d always been lucky.
As he bled out, his eldest sister cupped his face and whispered reassurances to him. She was crying. He could still remember when she was born. She'd cried so much as a baby.
He told her that he would be okay.
It was the last thing he ever said.
Then he was in a waiting room. He stood there for a long moment, around him people of all ages, ethnicities, genders, cultures, and sizes grumbled and shifted as if they’d been waiting past their threshold for patience. In front of him a tall black man sat behind a desk.
He walked up to the man, because what else was there to do?
The man looked up. He wore a name tag that read Charon. He rose an eyebrow expectantly. “Can I help you?”
“I don’t mean to bother you,” he started, because it felt like Charon was annoyed. “But where am I?”
“You’re dead.”
“Right.”
He didn’t know what else to say. Charon waited for a moment as that set in. He obviously had a lot of experience in this sort of thing.
“So. . .” he began, trying to find the right question. “What now?”
“Well, you’re a demigod. Hopefully someone will give you some gold drachmas for the ferry trip. Until then, you can take a seat.”
“Right.” He nodded as if that made any sense.
He found a seat in a chair and thought. About his sisters, about how he’d managed to save them, but just barely. He hoped that they were okay. That they’d made it to safety. That their father kept it together long enough to keep them away from more harm. That they grew up happy and stable.
Time passed without moving.
He felt nothing as days rolled by.
Then, suddenly, he noticed a new heaviness in his pocket. He placed a hand into it, and then pulled it out to find a small handful of foreign gold coins.
He stood, and walked up to Charon, who hadn’t moved from his chair. He placed the coins down on the counter, which got the ferry man’s attention.
“Is this enough for the ferry?”
***
After that, things became harder to hold onto. He lost himself in the shadow of what he once was. As he waited for judgement, all he could do was reflect on all of his regrets. He could’ve tried harder, and helped more people. Could’ve been kinder, more mindful of his family’s needs and less resentful of their attachment. He could’ve spent less time lazing around doing nothing, and more time learning a useful skill or volunteering.
When he got in front of the judges, he got no chance to defend himself. They spoke between themselves and all he could do was listen. Most of it, he couldn’t understand. His mind was smoky, and their words held little meaning.
But he caught up when it all came to a head with his final act.
“He saved his sisters, three innocent lives.”
“Without his gift from his mother, they would’ve died.”
“Yet he didn’t have to do it. He could’ve saved himself.”
It ended just like that.
He was sent away to Elysium. It was there his mind cleared. He looked around and began to understand. But he didn’t feel like he belonged. The feeling of restlessness led him away. He meandered. Time meant nothing.
Luck found him, even down in the Underworld.
He happened upon something that he wasn’t sure he was meant to. It was a thin part of the white river that he had mindlessly followed. In a fit of unease, he backed up until he could get a running start, and then leaped across the river like he used to the creek by his house when he was a child. On the other side, he felt the first spark of joy his soul had experienced in a long time. He cheered and spun in place.
Then he began to run.
Just to experience the freedom.
With no thoughts to how he may have wandered out of where he was meant to be.
He leaped, with no pain or resistance in old injuries. There was no fatigue. He weaved and bobbed his way all the way towards a light that he could see far ahead of him.
New life. An instinct in him promised.
He reached the light, one hand outstretched. A smile on his face.
Pain like he never felt it before attached itself to him. It tore at him piece by piece until nothing was left.
Darkness was all that remained.
Until there was light.
***
“There is a bit of a situation, my Lord Hades.”
“What is it now?”
“Well, a soul has just been reborn—”
“Let me stop you right there. Rebirth is Persephone’s domain. She hates it when I interfere with her work. Trust me, it’s not worth the headache.”
“But my lord, he was a son of—”
“I don’t care who he is, it can wait until the queen gets home.”
“Yes, my lord.”
***
Sally Jackson named her first born son Perseus, because it was the one Greek hero she could think of that had a happy ending. She named her second son, Perseus’s twin, Theseus, for his long dead brother.
Why she named the younger twin this, she couldn’t say for certain. Only that something about his blue eyes told her that was his name, and that had to be that.
And it helped that the names rhymed. Which brought her a special kind of joy.
From day one, she called Theseus, Theo, for short. Just as she called Perseus, Percy. Because they were more than their families and the legends surrounding them. They were her sons, and she was going to give them every chance they could get, no matter the cost.