Chapter Text
When Danny first woke up, he instantly wished that he hadn’t. Between the stress that he knew he’d face in the morning plus his cryptic dreams that kept rousing him from sleep in the middle of the night, it was easy enough to say that Danny was not a happy camper. He meant this literally and figuratively, given that he lay staring at the ceiling of the Hades cabin in the heart of Camp Half-Blood.
“Nico,” Danny hissed, “you awake?”
A groan pierced the frigid cabin air, followed by an irritated grumble. “ I am dead to the world. ”
He snorted because, well, that’s a mood. Danny was half-dead, after all.
“No making death jokes at seven in the morning,” Nico groused, turning over in his coffin-like bunk and covering his ears with a plush pillow. “It’s too early for this schist.”
Danny pushed himself up from his bunk to peer down at Nico’s. “‘Schist?’”
“Ask Hazel. Now, shush. We have at least thirty more minutes before we need to get ready for cabin inspection.”
Before Danny could ask who Hazel was, Nico’s soft snores filled the air once more before tapering off into deep breaths spaced so far apart, that a regular person would assume that he was dead. While that was all well and good for Nico, Danny himself couldn’t relax as easily.
Danny flopped back onto his comforter and from his pajama pants pocket, pulled out his black fidget spinner from Nico. Idly flicking it, he wondered how exactly they were going to give Jason and Percy the runaround after breakfast. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone tried to trick two powerful and excitable demigods who just wanted to make sure you felt welcome by building your godly parent’s cabin next.
But no one could know that Danny’s father was none other than the embodiment of death himself, Thanatos. At least, not until Thanatos could convince the Olympian Council that Danny’s very existence wasn’t a threat to the integrity of the Underworld. And from what Danny understood, the process was not going as smoothly as Danny would have hoped.
And how did Danny know this? Well, upon meeting his godly parent, he quickly came to realize that Thanatos loved to keep in contact via very, very confusing dreams that granted tired demigods like Danny very little respite.
Closing his eyes, Danny could still remember the tangled visions from the night before, as if they’d been half-burned into his retinas.
First, there was a black marble throne room in the depths of the Underworld itself. Danny floated between two figures, thankfully invisible, but somehow unable to break the spell as he usually could, should he want to. That thought sent a thrill of panic down Danny’s spine.
He at least figured he knew where he was due to some intrinsic sense given his parentage and ghostliness, up until he noted the gilded Ancient Greek carvings along the edges of the larger of the two thrones. The carvings proclaimed the gigantic dark-clothed figure leaning forward on it as Aïdes, The Unseen, Of The Underworld; dozens of other epithets that made Danny’s head spin.
This was Hades, lord of the dead.
Below the massive throne kneeled ( kneeled , Danny shuddered, subservience, supplication ), Danny’s own biological father, Thanatos. He bared the back of his neck to his king, shadowy wings tensed as if the god before him would cut them off at the slightest challenge. Thanatos’ robes were notably less ornate than Hades’ chiton whose embroidery swirled with images of screaming souls twisted around gold.
If there was one thing Danny knew for sure, it was that at the slightest hint of dissent, godly fury would reign supreme, the product of great offense from powerful beings beyond Danny’s mortal comprehension.
“So, you claim the boy is not a threat, Thánatos? ” the king of the Underworld rumbled.
The way his father’s name was pronounced sent a shiver down Danny’s spine. It was ancient, unforgiving.
“No more than yours is, my king,” Thanatos replied, not unkindly. It was a mere statement of fact.
The throne room shook. “You asked me for sanctuary for your child. You begged for my favor to protect him, and now you appear before me, boasting your insolence?!”
Danny jolted with freezing fear, watching the scene unfold, unable to jump in, much less verbally defend himself or his father.
Thanatos unclenched his jaw and finally met his king’s eyes. “And I appreciate that, my lord, after my unwavering loyalty to you for millennia. To clarify, I mean that our sons are not all that different—both the subject of great tragedy, power, responsibility…my son is as loyal to his allies as I am to you.”
Hades hummed dangerously, contemplating. “And you came to supplicate me without my wife in attendance?”
“Not a slight on my part, I assure you. She is known to be kinder concerning the fates of mortals so I merely wished for you to approach my case with your sole judgment before Queen Persephone offered hers.”
A damning beat of silence followed.
Then Hades stood up from his massive throne. With each earth-shaking step taken, he shrunk until he stood just a few inches shy of an acceptable human height.
“Rise, Thánatos.” Danny’s father did just that, slow, intentional. Hades put a firm hand on Death’s shoulder, furrowed brows softening. “I know what it is like to fear for a child’s safety, old friend. I know…I know what it’s like to lose them, to the threat of the great prophecy or otherwise.”
Thanatos nodded once. “And I treat them with respect and compassion as I lead them here, to your realm.”
“I know you do. I remember Bianca telling me as such before she chose Rebirth. Children truly are precious—I would know, as I am the god of all the riches below the earth. I will support you, Thánatos.”
He inclined his head in place of a bow. “Many thanks, Aïdes. ”
Danny suddenly felt like he was intruding on a private conversation, even more so than before. However, Danny had a bit of an issue: he didn’t know how to leave. That’s why he didn’t before, not to mention the additional fear-fueled paralysis…
“…true, your son does seem to have stumbled upon our conversation,” Hades noted, amused. “I can sense him more clearly now. Burning ears when it comes to one’s name is apparently genetic, Thánatos. I wish to meet the young soul I’m to defend against my family above.”
Thanatos sighed, shaking out his wings with a faint rustle. Then he turned to stare directly at Danny, his forced invisibility no hindrance. The sudden horrifying mortal idea of being known gripped Danny by the heart, wrenching through his innards like a flung ragdoll.
“Come into the light, son,” Thanatos said. Danny thought that phrasing was hilariously ironic considering the overwhelming darkness of the Underworld’s throne room, solely illuminated by flickering braziers.
Despite Danny’s silent panicked protests, he was beckoned to alight on the ground, no longer an observer of his fate, but now a direct influence. Somehow, he finally flickered into the visible spectrum, yet he still felt floaty and untethered—this was still a dream, after all. It was his most realistic and daunting dream since his first encounter with Nocturne, sure, but still a dream nonetheless.
Thanatos’ wing stretched across Danny’s back, yet the comforting sensation felt wispy and incomplete like when Danny went intangible as Phantom. Danny could hear the tentative smile in Thanatos’ voice as he hummed, “My lord, I present to you my son, Daniel.”
Danny’s shoulders hiked up to his ears at the drop of his full name, but he still managed to give Hades a short and awkward bow. Yeah, sure, Danny was impertinent, but come on! He didn’t have a full-death wish! He had enough common sense dealing with royalty since meeting people like Princess Dora back in the Ghost Zone.
“Ah, I See now,” Hades mused, studying Danny not unlike a child deciding how best to place their magnifying glass over a bug on a sunny day. “A fierce protector only wishing to protect those who cannot protect themselves. A knight of the people, you could say.”
Danny squirmed. It felt like his entire soul was being torn raw to be examined.
“ Hades, ” Thanatos huffed, “leave the boy be.”
From there, Danny experienced what could best be described as what happens to a kid at a parent-teacher conference, not that he’d actually attended many with his actual parents. (Or with the Drs. Fenton, anyway. Jazz picked up the slack as they got older, after all.) Simply put, Danny remembered what it was like to be talked at and about while he was still present. Half-understood swirls of what could only be Ancient Greek flitted through Danny’s skull as he found himself physically unable to respond aside from stilted nods.
At one point, heralded by sickly sweet asphodel and pomegranate flowers, Persephone strode into the throne room, the epitome of deadly grace. She offered a somewhat pleasant smile to Danny which he thought edged more towards a grimace. The queen of the dead then crossed to her husband’s side, whispering something in his ear as she gestured towards Danny. Hades laughed as if it was a joke, but based on the way their eyes glittered like chips of unforgiving obsidian, Danny wasn’t too sure.
“He’s sweet, dear husband,” Persephone said in purposeful, clear English. She let on a hint of a smile. “Are you certain we may not keep him? The little phantom already has one foot in the Underworld, as it were.”
Thanatos hissed like he was wounded, drawing Danny closer to his side and shrouding him completely with his wing.
Persephone and Hades only laughed before the queen settled enough to note, “When the mortals say that Death is greedy, taking souls without scrutiny nor recompense, I see now that they were not being facetious, old friend. My, how broody you are…”
At that last comment, Thanatos huffed and straightened his posture, quickly unfurling his wing from around Danny, who strangely found himself missing the comfort. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Lying is not a good look on you,” Hades teased. Was that a tease? Danny worried his lip at the idea, thoughts turning hazy. Could gods actually tease each other? Without starting an all-out war?
As Danny’s essence began to float away, hopefully back to his bed, the last thing he heard his father say was, “...and now all we need to do is convince the Olympian Council that my son will not distract me from my duties…”
And then Danny jolted to awareness, an unfamiliar haunting feminine cackle echoing through his bones.
Danny sighed as he opened his eyes once more. Just remembering his dreams was exhausting—it was honestly like the whole universe was Mrs. O’ Leary and Danny was her favorite chew toy. But Danny could handle it. He always did. Because he was Danny and Danny could handle anything, from bullies to bad grades and ghosts, family failings to seriously messed-up fruit loops like Vlad. World ending threats! The destruction of everyone and anything he loved. His own death, no takebacks, full send, completely kaput? Fine.
Yeah, he was fine, because he didn’t know how to be anything else.
A sharp series of knocks pounded at the door. “Cabin inspection! Open up, Angel!”
The sudden noise startled Danny so badly that he turned intangible, going straight through his top bunk and crashing under the bed right below it as he became solid at the exact wrong time.
“You alright, Danny?” Nico called.
“Just…” Danny forced himself to flicker into a stable solid state. He sneezed as soon as he got his powers under control. “Just peachy. Making friends with the dust bunnies and everything.”
“What’s going on? Is anyone hurt? Nico, open this door right now, I swear to the gods!”
The cabin door slammed open as Danny tried in vain to wriggle himself out from under the bottom bunk. He cursed his recently uncontrollable powers—how was this fair? Hadn’t he already been through the relentless “with great power comes great responsibility” superhero origin story gauntlet? He was supposed to be better than this.
Danny attempted to ignore the conversation at the door, face burning with embarrassment at the thought of anyone else seeing him like this. And the ignoring thing worked! Well, up until he was directly addressed, at least.
Leaning over Danny’s upper body, none other than Will Solace asked, “Danny, are you stuck?”
Danny groaned before shoving at the bed frame again. Frustrated, he snapped, “ Nooo, I’m just making friends with the dust bunnies. No duh, I’m stuck!”
From behind Will, Nico made a gesture to Danny that vaguely looked like something passing through a wall. Danny minutely shook his head . I can’t. He conveyed this for two reasons: even if Will saw him fall through the Big House’s infirmary wall the other day, who’s to say that no one else could peek through the open door? Then there’d be even more people trying to guess Danny’s godly parent based on his abilities! And the second reason? Well, Danny didn’t actually know if he could successfully control his intangibility the second go around.
Will frowned and whipped his head over his shoulder to Nico. “What are you doing?”
“Uh…” Nico looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Suggesting…shadow travel? Yes, that is exactly what I was doing…”
Will just sighed. “Absolutely not. Nico, grab Danny’s forearms while I lift the bunk. Once I say, ‘go,’ drag him out. Danny, push yourself with your legs as Nico pulls.”
His commanding tone left no room for discussion. All three of them did exactly as Will ordered, and to pretty much no one’s surprise, Danny scrambled out with little resistance. Will set the two lifted posts of the bed back down with a grunt before brushing his hands together to wipe off the dust.
Will whirled on Danny as Nico helped Danny stand. Will’s intense expression almost made Danny recoil, expecting a scolding lecture. But then he asked kindly, “I don’t see anything hurt, but are you alright? Head fuzzy at all? Vision is all good?”
Danny stood ramrod straight and mentally recounted even the slightest ache in his body, forming an injury catalog just as he would for Sam and Tucker after patrol so they could help him better patch up. And just like he did after patrol, he only focused on the most pressing injuries.
“Minor rug burn on lower right leg, minor pain in upper back, both unimportant. I am fine.” Danny winced at his own clinical tone but brushed it aside in favor of hurriedly plastering a mockery of a wry smile across his face. “C’mon! Let’s head to breakfast before all the good stuff is taken. I can smell pancakes with my name on ’em!”
Danny tried to push past Will and Nico, only to be blocked by a veritable barricade of friendship. At least, that’s what Danny thought Jazz might call it to lighten the mood, or maybe just a straight-up intervention.
Will frowned. “Danny, we are not just going to brush past what that just was.”
Nico nodded, saying, “Seriously, what in Hades was that tone switch—” Will elbowed Nico.
“Oh, c’mon! Just say ‘hell.’ And I’m fine! It’s just a holdover from teenage vigilante first aid stuff.”
Nico scoffed, “Alright, and so you unironically say ‘holy spooks!’ on the regular?”
“I’m from a literal ghost-infested town! I get a free pass!”
“So do I with ‘what in Hades.’ I’m literally the son of Hades, so—”
“ Both of you, quiet! ”
Nico and Danny stopped in their verbal tracks. There was something magical in Will’s voice, something Danny blamed on Will’s dad being Apollo, the god of music and singing, and about a dozen other things. He was absolutely willing to bet that a commanding loudspeaker voice was one of them.
“Thank you,” Will continued. “Now, I’ll give you two a pass on cabin inspection if you clean later today, stop bickering with each other, and if Danny promises not to strain himself after breakfast today. Doctor’s orders .”
With the fear of Will’s aggressive care instilled, Nico and Danny simply nodded, with Danny promising to try not to strain himself.
“‘Do or do not, there is no try,’” Will quoted sagely as he ushered Nico and Danny out of the Hades cabin. “Now, breakfast. ”
With a wince, Danny slipped on his sneakers that he’d left outside the night before to dry after he’d stepped in a massive puddle on the way back from the campfire. He’d unfortunately forgotten that they were on the cusp of Long Island Sound, however, so the cold early morning fog did his shoes no favors.
“You’re a Star Wars fan, Will?” Danny asked, forcing down his excitement. It wasn’t hard with his damp shoes to assist. He also had practice, considering how back at Casper High, the minute someone showed interest in something nerdy, within the next they’d find themselves shoved in a locker by some stereotypically pea-brained bully like Dash.
“Yup!” Will then whispered conspiratorially, “I’ve been trying to get the Hecate and Hephaestus kids working on a mock lightsaber for forever. With just a safe ‘training mode,’ of course. I don’t want campers making an impromptu Anakin-on-Mustafar recreation.”
Danny laughed at that, some worry rolling off his shoulders. “I’m more of a Trekkie guy myself, but I’m of the mindset that all sci-fi can be good sci-fi. It’s just…wow. Exploration of the utter vastness and wonder that’s space? The Enterprise is always discovering something exciting and new and—it’s just so cool! ”
Danny faintly heard Nico mutter in confusion about all the “made-up words,” and instantly decided that it was his mission to explain anything and everything about Star Trek while Will handled most of the intense Star Wars lore-dumping. But Danny had to admit that he did most of the talking. About Star Trek. And NASA. And probably a bunch of other general space-related things. By the time they made it to the dining pavilion, Nico looked so confused about Danny’s recounting of the Excaliban-created lookalike of President Abraham Lincoln made to fight in a battle between the forces of good and evil, Danny almost felt a little bad. The key word there was “almost.”
“Hey, Danny, Nico!” Percy called over the din of the dining pavilion. “I saved you guys some of the good muffins!”
Okay, now Danny felt really bad for all the lying he was about to do to him and Jason in the near future.
A few people turned to look at the wildly waving son of Poseidon who bounded up to greet them, muffins in hand. Some Apollo camper took that as an opportunity to pull Will away, probably to handle some Apollo cabin head counselor duties. Danny cursed the sudden lack of a “Let’s figure out your godly parent!” conversational buffer as Will helplessly shrugged and whirled around to mediate a disagreement between his siblings.
Off to the side, Danny noticed Nico feigning general disinterest but based on the way Nico’s shoulders tensed, he was willing to guess that he was just as stressed as Danny was.
“Hi, Percy,” Danny forced a grin, shoving as much enthusiasm as he could into his tone. It wasn’t much.
Percy’s cheeriness wavered, softening in something akin to concern. That made something twist in Danny’s gut. Danny wasn’t…he wasn’t the type of person people got concerned over. Wondered about, sure, like “Hey, he can still get up to fight, right? Phantom can still save the day?” Sam and Tucker and Jazz got concerned for Danny—they had known and loved Danny for ages. New people wondered. “Concerned” implied a deeper sense of care from people who knew you.
As for Percy? Well, Danny had only known him for a few weeks and actively interacted with Danny for a mere fraction of that. Generally speaking, Danny didn’t get worried about. That just wasn’t a thing that happened to Danny!
But here Percy was, worrying about Danny.
“Hey, Danny” —Percy’s tone was soft—“let’s get some food in you, yeah? You look like death, man.”
Danny stiffened at the hopefully casual turn-of-phrase. He did look like Death, technically speaking. His father was Thanatos, so of course they’d look at least a little similar.
“That’s certainly an observation!” Danny made panicked eye contact with Nico who just buried his face in his hands, groaning. “I mean, I, um, slept really weird last night? Strange dreams?”
“Would you like to talk—”
“ No! ” Danny said, much too quickly. “No,” he sobered, “I’m good.”
Nico’s hands slid down his face and he flopped an arm on the table, blindly grabbing for his drink cup. He downed half of it in one fell swoop, apparently trying to drown his exasperation in orange juice.
Percy nodded as if Nico’s reaction wasn’t a cause for suspicion, lips pressed together. “If you’re sure, Danny. Just…just know it happens to the best of us demigods, some unfortunately more than most. You should take a muffin, dude. Take my word for it—nothing chases away weird dreams better than a solid breakfast.”
And that’s how Danny found himself in a whirlwind conversation with Percy and Nico about how best to acquire the double-chocolate muffins he handed off to them and why you should always be wary about the assorted muffins at breakfast. He chatted their ears off as they settled at the Hades table, standing just next to it to avoid the “no kids from other cabins can sit at other tables” rule.
Percy also explained how everyone scraped a part of their meal into one of the braisers in the dining pavilion. “Offerings to the gods,” he’d said with a shrug. He demonstrated with a fat, juicy strawberry he plucked from the Poseidon table earlier—why he just had that on him, Danny couldn’t even begin to understand—and tossed it into a nearby braiser.
“Here ya go, Dad.” And then the fire flared up, sparking with blue flame before dying down once more.
Danny frowned. “But why do we burn food for them? Do the gods like the smell of burning fruit in the morning, or something?”
Percy snorted before trying to explain, “It’s like a tribute and prayer all in one? A two-for-one special sorta deal. Us ‘puny mortals’”—Danny laughed at that—“offer the best of what we have each meal as a way to pray to the gods for advice, or just as a way to be like ‘hey, god I’m praying to in particular, you don’t suck!’ The idea is that you sacrifice the thing you’d miss most from your plate to hopefully get the gods’ attention.”
Danny watched as Nico stood up to chuck an unpeeled perfectly ripe bright yellow banana into the braiser like a demented boomerang. The fire flickered purple for a moment before settling back to its regular orange-red. Under his breath, Nico whispered a sharp prayer, but Danny only caught one word: father.
Hades.
Danny’s stomach sunk as he thought back to his dream, but tried to stay present enough that Nico and Percy wouldn’t ask if he was alright. Danny was getting tired of that—he still didn’t really know how to deal with that kind of casual care from people he’d only met recently.
“Why a banana?” Danny asked. “Its vibes are a little strange for the lord of the dead.”
Nico turned around and plopped back in his seat to continue nursing his orange juice. “Very few fruits grow in the Underworld,” he shrugged, “much less tropical ones. My father can have a banana, as a treat.”
Soon enough, Danny himself stood before the same braiser, half a double-chocolate muffin in hand. It was the side with the most chocolate chunks, something Danny knew he’d miss, worthy enough of an offering according to Percy’s description. Setting it carefully in the braiser, he just hoped Thanatos thought the same.
Please let the people at camp accept me for who I am: ghostliness, your son, and all. Uh, I don’t know how to end this. Thanks…Thanatos? Dad? Amen?
Instead of the odor of horribly charred chocolate, the scent of freshly turned dirt and pressed flowers wafted up to Danny’s nose. His hand drifted to the woven bracelet on his wrist, a gift from Thanatos. It was once the basket he arrived to the Fentons’ doorstep in that carried the same scent the braiser currently had, now a magical item that switched between bracelet and shield with a flick of the wrist.
In a daze, Danny retreated to his seat and let Percy continue his ramble about muffins again.
“Good thing you made sure it was chocolate before your offering! Giving a god bran on accident wouldn’t be good. Unless they like bran and weren’t expecting chocolate.” Percy wrinkled his nose as he laughed, “I once confused the bran with the chocolate ones. Bran doesn’t even taste that bad, but it was the fact that I was expecting chocolate—”
“Percy, why are you ranting about the muffins?” Jason cut in.
Danny whipped his head around at Jason’s sudden appearance. “Wait, this isn't a common occurrence? Because I was totally ready to accept that Percy just did that on the regular. The rambling about something random, I mean.”
Jason raised a questioning eyebrow at Percy whose light expression faltered for a split millisecond. “ Demigod dreams, ” he mumbled in place of a proper response.
In a gesture that might have been innocuous to someone less paranoid than Danny, Jason readjusted his glasses with a nod to draw attention away from his mouth as he mouthed in agreement, “ A distraction. ”
Danny’s core twisted at the sentiment but chose not to say anything to preserve his dignity. He did, however, start to internally spiral, head spinning with the implications. Just how often did demigods get nightmares? When Danny was still in the infirmary with Nico, he got the Sparknotes of some of Percy’s epic quests, passing out from exhaustion somewhere around the time Nico started rambling about how Percy showed up to his boarding school in the middle of winter.
Sure, Percy had been a bit younger than Danny was when he first started out as Phantom, but Danny had already been helping out in the Fenton lab and handling semi-toxic chemicals by age ten. Not to mention Dani! She was biologically twelve like Percy had been when he’d gone on the quest to return Zeus’ Master Bolt, and since Danny last saw her, she seemed to be having fun traveling around the world and Ghost Zone, beating up baddies left and right. (Now that he thought about it, maybe he should try getting in contact with her soon for their every-once-in-awhile “Hey, are you alive?” check-in…)
From how Nico painted it, Greek and Roman demigods still went on epic quests like their ancient counterparts did, completing favors for their parents, and slaying monsters. Sure, they might have nightmares like Danny did about the general “Oh wow, I almost completely beefed it against that monster/ghost awhile back, I should’ve but didn’t do XYZ,” but it’s not like the demigods fought in wars or anything! Nico just said that Percy was a two-time savior of Olympus, referencing the Master Bolt quest, and helping out with the Golden Fleece stuff, most likely.
Based on what Danny remembered from Sam’s ramblings about various darker myths, the most well-known heroes were the ones who had a hand in a little bit of everything, constantly mentioned or referenced—that’s how Heracles ascended to godhood. Or something like that. Danny wasn’t completely sure. So someone like Percy who got mentioned a lot in Nico’s stories in the infirmary? Makes sense that he was offered godhood, as young as he was.
“—ny? Danny?” He snapped to attention as Jason put a hand on his shoulder. “We were just about to head out—the dining pavilion’s clearing out since everyone’s about to head off to camp activities, including us.”
Danny extracted himself from Jason’s palm, shuffling awkwardly to get out of his seat on the Hades’ table bench. “Sorry, must’ve spaced out,” he mumbled. Then louder, “We don’t have to go through all these hoops to figure out who my godly parent is, do we? I mean, it’d probably just be easier to start planning out some other god’s cabin instead of my parent’s one, right? We can just wait until my claiming happens naturally!” It was a last-ditch attempt to dissuade Jason and Percy’s enthusiasm, but call Danny a pessimist—he didn’t have the highest of hopes.
Nico appeared like a semi-friendly shadow at Danny’s side. “He’s right, guys. Testing the gods’ ire is a lame-brained idea…”
Percy crossed his arms. “Okay, fine, yes, but regardless—”
“But why is the new kid not claimed yet, Miss Head Counselor Annabeth? There must be a reason!” A cute little girl with her blonde hair done up in pigtails gripped Annabeth’s hand as Annabeth led her off to start daily camp activities. Danny vaguely recognized the kid from one of the frankly more concerning drama acts at the campfire the night before. She and her little buddies reenacted a gruesome scene from the Iliad with a frightening degree of accuracy, utilizing surprise bottles of ketchup to splash the audience closest to them with “blood.” She readjusted the chunky glasses that made her grey eyes look about ten times bigger than they were and gasped and pointed once she caught sight of Danny. “Miss Head Counselor Annabeth, did you know that kids are supposed to be claimed before they’re thirteen years old? He’s older than that. Fun fact! Did you know that I’m seven and three-quarters and I already got claimed by Athena?”
“Yes, Marie, most kids do get claimed before they’re thirteen! And I know that you’re seven and three-quarters and that Athena claimed you because you are very, very bright. But do you remember what we say about being aware of our surroundings and the people in them? You might hurt—”
“Nope, Miss Head Counselor Annabeth!” and Marie swiped her free hand across Annabeth’s arm—Marie’s hand was covered with ketchup because of course, it was—as an expertly timed distraction to wriggle away from Annabeth. Before she could grab her, Marie was already barreling out of the dining pavilion, presumably off to cause a staggering amount of chaos, likely involving ketchup.
“—other peoples’ feelings…” Annabeth finished weakly. She examined the ketchup smear across her forearm and Camp shirt. “Gods, she has a lot of energy, but kudos to her for thinking outside the box. At least I know that she was just lagging behind to grab some ketchup.” Annabeth then turned towards their little group, all in various degrees of confusion. “Marie is quite the wild card, isn’t she?”
Danny grimaced at the reminder. If the claiming age was thirteen or younger, then Danny was going to stick out like a sore thumb, being fourteen going on fifteen. And with the ache in his back from his fall earlier, he felt practically geriatric.
“—and you have my list?” Annabeth was saying to Percy.
“Yup!” Percy grinned, retrieving a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket. “Thanks for the leaping-off point with all the Underworld-adjacent deities. I wouldn’t have even thought of adding Hermes because he’s a…um. What’s that word again?”
“Psychopomp. He sometimes takes messages to the Underworld.”
“You’re the best, Wise Girl. Truly.”
Annabeth just laughed. “I know I am. Just…please don’t do anything stupid as you’re helping Danny, okay Seaweed Brain? I know I’m about 85% of your impulse control, but I need to find Marie and then teach the advanced classical lit class.”
“C’mon! On a good day, it’s at least 70%...”
Jason tried covering a laugh with a poorly timed cough as Danny snorted. Nico didn’t even bother hiding his amusement, fully laughing at Percy’s phrasing.
Annabeth’s mirthful expression sobered. “But seriously, guys. Be wary. There’s likely a good reason that Danny’s not been properly claimed yet, furthermore put up in the Hades cabin. I’m guessing that either his parent is some deity that’s so obscure and unsettling that they don’t have kids that often, or, you know, someone that the gods themselves fear and need to discuss what to do with their progeny.”
Danny very pointedly did not meet Annabeth’s eyes, afraid that the slightest difference in his blinking would reveal a loose thread in the tapestry that was his life that she could lightly pull and unravel his very being as the son of Thanatos. After all, he once heard Sam retell the tragedy of Arachne, how twisted it was that she became a dark reflection of her mortal weaver self, becoming the immortal mother of one of Sam’s favorite creepy crawlies. Danny knew that Athena knew how to weave and he was sure that as her daughter, Annabeth could do the same.
“Then why is Percy so dead-set on figuring out who my godly parent is?” Danny asked Annabeth. “This seems a lot bigger than just picking what cabin to build next.”
Annabeth opened her mouth to respond, but Percy raised his hand like an overexcited elementary schooler. “Yes, Percy?”
“Can I say it?”
Annabeth nodded her assent. “It was your reward, after all. It’s only fitting.”
Danny’s brows knit together, completely and utterly confused. He got the feeling that he missing out on a much, much bigger story. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Well,” Percy started, throwing an arm around Danny’s shoulder, “when I turned down the gods’ offer of immortality, I asked them to make a promise to me, instead. By the time their demigod children turned thirteen, they needed to be claimed. So, Danny, how old are you?”
Danny looked nervously around at Jason, Nico, and Annabeth whose faces betrayed no hints of confusion like Danny’s.
“F-fourteen?”
“Great! So, we’re going to figure out who your godly parent is so they can pay their effin’ child support.”