[ Teen Wolf ] [ Those Who Deal in Fire and Blood ]
Title: Those Who Deal in Fire and Blood
Series: Teen Wolf 2011
Character/Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, entire cast of Teen Wolf.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Percy Jackson and Teen Wolf fusion/crossover.
those who deal in fire and blood
It starts with a fire.
Two ladies stand at the top of a hill, watching a house burn to the ground, the shrieks of pain and children's wails playing a harmonious note to their ears. The woman hugs the younger one close to her, laughing as she strokes her daughter's blond hair, humming her approval.
"So. What do you think?" Kate Argent asks her mother, tucking her hair behind her ear. "My sacrifice to you," she offers, eyes gleaming with delight at the sight of the Hale house being razed to cinders.
"Glorious," Eris agrees, as she views the carnage hungrily. "Most fitting. Thank you. I couldn't have asked for more."
Their gloating is interrupted when a man appears, leather jacket flapping in the wind, eyes blazing a furious gold. "Eris," he roars in fury, "What is the meaning of this?"
"Oh, please, Ares. Loosen up. We're just having a bit of fun," Eris says flippantly. "Besides, what are you so upset about? Kate made sure your kids were out of the way. They'll be fine. It was the least she could do, after all the help your son gave her."
Next to her, Kate Argent preens in satisfaction.
Ares stares at the demigod, eyes reflecting the ongoing fire in the Hale property. "I know what you did to my son," he hisses at Kate. "You will regret this."
"Oh, I'll be all right, I think," Kate replies, ignoring the cold shiver creeping down her spine. "You can't interfere after all."
"Such arrogance for a young brat," Ares addresses Eris, keeping his gaze fixed on Kate. "You'd do well to warn your daughter about those who tempt the gods."
Eris shrugs, picking off ash from her jacket. "The warning is noted. But shouldn't you be making sure your children are all right instead?"
Ares disappears in flash of golden fire which blends right into the one razing the Hale mansion to cinders and ash.
He brings them to the wolf-house. Lupa pads out to meet him, bowing low in obeisance.
"My children," Mars tells her, though he notices how her eyes rest exclusively on Laura. “Please guide them as you did the others.”
"She is late to the training, my lord," Lupa chides Mars gently. "It will not come easy to her."
"I'm sorry," Mars apologises to the guardian. An apology from a god was a rare occurrence indeed, but this was no common occasion, even by their standards. "But they've always been special."
"Very well then. But the boy," Lupa speaks again, before she is interrupted.
"I know, he can't stay," Mars concedes. "But I just wanted them to have a little more time together."
Lupa bows her head in acquiescence. "Very well, my lord." The she-wolf tosses her head back, a summons to the two demigods huddled close to each other. "Come, Laura Hale," she says gravely. "Let me see what you are made of."
"But," Laura protests, kneeling before the giant she-wolf, exhausted after her trial by combat. "My brother--"
"Is no child of Rome," Lupa intones, looking down at the two siblings. "He will walk a different path from you. You know that."
"But he's my brother," Laura argues, gripping Derek's hand even tighter. The boy glares at the she-wolf, daring her to say otherwise.
"And a son of Ares. He belongs in the other camp," Lupa tells her more gently. "You will not be the first siblings separated so."
"There were others?" Derek asks.
"A son of Jupiter, and a daughter of Zeus, yes. They were kept apart by necessity."
"But," Laura protests again, unwilling to lose her brother, after all that had happened to them. That was the reason why they both had never left for their respective camps, they'd heard of the laws mandating the separation between the Greeks and Romans.
Lupa sighs and settles herself down on her paws. "Fear not, my child. The laws have changed since the Second Great Prophecy. The Greek and Roman camps are known to each other now; communication is permitted."
"So I can still talk to Derek?" Laura asks, hope flickering in her eyes. This was news to her - the Hales hadn't exactly bothered keeping up with the developments.
The she-wolf sniffs her disapproval. "You may even meet him after your basic training is completed. Chiron introduced this thing called an 'exchange programme'."
For the first time in months, Laura Hale deigns to smile a little.
"I don't need a ride," Derek argues with Laura, defiant as only a teenaged boy could be.
"Yes, but it'll take ages to get you to New York on your own," Laura coaxes him. "This is going to be so much faster."
"Come on kid," Apollo tells him, honking the horn on the van. "Get in."
"I'm not a kid," Derek replies automatically. "And I can get there myself."
"Whatever," Apollo shrugs. "But I am on a schedule. You sure you don't want to join us?" he waggles his eyebrows. "Look at all the girls I have at the back."
The group of young women turn to glare collectively at the god, fingers twitching at their silver bows.
"For the last time, brother, stop referring to my Hunters as girls," the young woman sitting in the front passenger seat grouses.
"Aww, have a sense of humour! Why so grumpy today, Artemis? Want me to sing you a song? Or a ballad?"
"No!" The Hunters seated at the back of the van chorus loudly.
"Get in, Derek," one of the girls orders Derek. Like the rest of the girls, she's wearing a silver parka and combat pants, but there's a silver circlet on her head, and she has ear cuffs and several rings on her fingers, her eyes lined with kohl.
"I'm Thalia," she introduces herself. "I'm Artemis' lieutenant."
"So?"
"Derek, don't be rude," Laura reprimands him.
"Don't worry, I have a kid brother myself. I know how they can get."
Derek crosses his arms and sulks.
"I'll make sure he gets to camp safely," Thalia promises Laura, her silver ear cuffs glinting in the dying sun. "Now get in. We don't want to be late for the return trip."
"Fine." Derek relents. "But you take care, Laura."
"You take care yourself," Laura teases back, hugging him tightly. Derek blinks away the tears in his eyes, telling himself that he's not upset about being leaving his sister. He climbs into the van, feeling very self-conscious at the unfriendly stares the Hunters give him.
"How come you don't hug me that way?" Apollo asks Artemis. "I feel unloved! Wait, I feel a haiku coming on--"
"Apollo," Artemis sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Just get a move on."
"All right, all right," Apollo agrees. He invites Derek to sit in the front, gesturing to the seat right behind him. "Sorry, only my sister gets to ride up front with me today. You don't have a chaperone."
"What?"
"I can take care of one boy, I would think."
Apollo laughs. "It's not for your protection. It's for him. I don't want you turning him into a stag if he upsets you or anything. No animals allowed in my chariot, they'll ruin the upholstery."
Artemis punches him on the arm. "Apollo. Shut up and drive."
Thalia rolls her eyes. "Brothers," she mutters. "Honestly."
Derek half-pays attention to the two gods arguing with each other. He leans back in his seat and promises to himself that he would speak to Laura as soon as possible once he reaches New York. He doesn't notice when he slides slowly into sleep, too tired to enjoy the spectacular view of the sky as it can be seen from Apollo's chariot.
Six Years Later.
"Oh," Laura says, as she sees the figure standing in the forest, shaggy black hair obscuring his eyes. "Pluto’s ambassador," she comments automatically, addressing Nico di Angelo.
"The one and the same," he replies with a shrug.
"So does that mean--" Laura turns to look but her view is obscured when Nico vanishes, quick as a thought, and reappears behind her to block her line of sight.
"You don’t need to see that," Nico says, wincing.
Laura stiffens, preparing to argue - it was her body after all - but gives up after a moment’s thought. "You’re right. It’s irrelevant now. I’m dead, aren’t I?"
"I’m afraid so," he concurs with a heavy tone of regret.
"I can’t believe Peter would do something like this," Laura murmurs under her breath - though technically, she isn’t doing that anymore. Breathing, that is. "He was always so relaxed, so cheerful."
"People change," Nico points out. "And your family's been through a lot, even for demigods."
"You can say that again," Laura agrees. "But why are you here? You don’t do this for everybody do you?" she asks shrewdly. Pluto’s ambassador had always kept to himself for the most part whenever he appeared at camp, but from what she understood of death and dying, most people didn’t usually warrant the care of the Ghost King himself.
"I thought you’d like an escort." Nico shrugs again, and although it’s impossible to see even with the moon shining brightly above them, Laura swears she thinks she can see a blush rising on his cheeks.
"Somehow I don’t think everybody gets VIP attention," she teases Nico, finding it odd that she’s come to terms with her own condition so quickly.
"I had an older sister once," Nico explains vaguely. "I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. So…"
Laura nods in understanding. She knows that feeling, that hunger of wanting to fix things and to make them right. She feels a sense of sadness wash over her at all the things she wanted to do for her family, for her brother, and all that will never be now.
"Percy always said that I had a sister complex," Nico continues with a small smile. "Do you mind, though? I can leave if you want. The Doors of Death are easy to get to on your own, especially since we’re on the West Coast. I made sure Thanatos gave good instructions."
"It’s fine," Laura assures him. "It’s great, actually, that you’re here." She places her hands on her hips, thinking. "Do we need to leave soon?"
"No," Nico tells her. "I mean, you’d have to go eventually or they’ll hunt you down and haul your ass back there, but yeah, there’s no rush."
"That’s good. Because oh god, Derek," Laura starts, clapping a hand to her mouth when the truth finally sinks in. "Who’s going to tell him?"
"I’ll tell him myself," Nico promises. "I can go immediately after this. Do you have any messages for him?"
"I can’t tell him about Peter, can I?"
"No," Nico disagrees immediately. "No interference permitted. Anything else though?"
Laura runs a hand through her hair and sighs. She stares at Nico, taking in his slim frame, his sword at his hip and the ring on his finger. He cut an unassuming figure at first glance, but there was no mistaking the menace and fear that Nico radiated, holding his aura tightly around him like a cloak. So different from Derek, but so much the same, she thinks, recognising Nico’s fierce love for his long-lost older sister.
"Tell him, I love him," Laura says, hearing her voice shake. "And tell him to stop being such fitness freak, he looks fine the way he is. All those restaurants in Brooklyn and he’s surviving on yoghurt and muesli? And tell him to expand that wardrobe of his, I’m sick of seeing him in black and grey. Loosen up a little. Oh god, that sounds so corny," she finally pauses. "You know what, forget I said that."
Nico tilts his head, a sad look in his eyes. "Don’t worry. I’ll tell him everything."
"Thank you," Laura whispers. She stays huddled within herself for a few more minutes before she straightens up again, shoulders held back, a fierce look on her face as befitting a daughter of Mars.
"Are you ready now?" He steps up to her and holds up his arm to her, like a gentleman escorting a lady to a dance.
Laura takes Nico’s arm. "All right. Let’s go. Take me to the Underworld."
"Father’s been in a good mood lately. I’ll see what I can do about streamlining the process for you," Nico promises. Laura laughs her last laugh on earth as they both vanish into the shadows.
It's past visiting hours in Beacon Hills Long Term Facility but no one notices the lone visitor inside Peter Hale’s room. The man claps a hand on the shoulder of the patient, head bowed in grief.
"My son," Bacchus mourns, "I had hoped you’d inherit some other traits of mine. That particular period of my own life wasn’t exactly covered in glory."
He looks up when he hears the curtain rustling. A small lady with round-rimmed glasses, and a short bob, dressed immaculately in a pantsuit looks impassively at him from her place next to the window.
"Stay away from him," Bacchus snarls.
"I’ve no business with Mr Peter Hale today," Tisiphone sniffs. "Lord Hades hasn’t issued any orders. Neither has young Mr di Angelo. This is just a courtesy visit, if you will."
"It’s not his fault," Bacchus ignores her, "Not with Eris meddling the way she usually does."
"But Laura Hale is dead by his hand," she warns. "There will be a reckoning eventually."
"I know," Bacchus acknowledges, growling low in his throat. "I know. Just. Not yet."
"All right," Tisiphone agrees. "After all, the paperwork isn’t in anyway." She disappears in a waft of Caron perfume.
"Well," Bacchus says, loosening his tie. "Looks like you caught a lucky break. I can’t say I approve, Peter. But I know why you’re doing it. And in all honesty, I can’t exactly blame you. Just remember, there will be a price to be paid at the end of it all."
Peter Hale looks up and smiles beatifically at his father. "It'll be worth it."
"I heard what happened," Thalia sits down next to him, not bothering with the niceties. Derek runs a hand through his hair, appreciating her candour. Everybody's been walking on eggshells around him ever since the news broke and he's tired of it. "I'm sorry about Laura."
Derek stretches his legs out in front of him but does not speak.
"What are you going to do now?"
"I'm going back home," he says, resolute.
Thalia nods. "There's a lot of unfinished business there for you in Beacon Hills. How will you go?"
Derek blinks. He hadn't had the chance to think about something so mundane as travel plans. "I don't know. Train or plane, I guess. Plane, probably. That's the fastest anyway."
"Forget it. You'll want to be there as soon as possible to handle things before the police mess it up for you. I'll ask Nico to bring you back," Thalia promises. "Shadow travel will be so much faster. Travel light. Just bring what you need."
"But Nico's just got back from Beacon Hills. He's still tired."
"I know. All these years, and shadow travel still takes a lot out of him. But I'll get him to bring you there. Just let him have enough time to rest."
"Why? He's got better things to do than to bring people around from place to place."
"He doesn't do it for most people, no. But he'll say yes because it'll be me doing the asking," Thalia says easily, confident in her abilities to persuade Nico to do her bidding.
"Why you?" Derek asks. "How come Chiron or Percy can't do it?"
Thalia smirks. "They could. But everybody knows Nico's nicer to older sisters."
"You're working late again."
Sheriff Stilinski looks up to find a woman leaning at the door of his office, arms crossed across her chest as she watches him work. He breaks into a broad grin at the sight of her, walking round the desk to hold his hands out to her in greeting.
"Athena."
"Just checking up on you," Athena receives his greeting graciously. She sits down opposite him, tucking a hand under her chin. As always, she goes straight to the point, not wasting time on small talk. "What are you working on now?"
"I’m just trying to sort this case out."
"Oh, what case?" Athena inquires, curious.
"Murder."
"And who's the victim?" Athena asks, and Sheriff Stilinski tells her, glad to have somebody to discuss his work with without fear of lawsuits or consequences, just like those years ago when he was deployed overseas on assignment.
"Laura Hale. I don't know if it's got anything to do with the Hale house fire six years ago. There's nothing connecting it now, but it's too much of a coincidence. She comes back and then she's murdered? It's got to be related."
"So that explains why Mars had been in a bad mood lately," Athena murmurs absently.
"She's a daughter of Mars? I had suspected her heritage. What about Derek then?"
"He's a son of Ares."
"Mars and Ares?"
"We do have two aspects," Athena reminds him. Sheriff Stilinski blinks when Athena shifts in the chair, her curly hair straightening out into a tight bun at the back of her head, her flowing dress changing into a pencil skirt and work jacket.
"How does that even work out? You know what," Sheriff Stilinski stops himself, "I don't need to know."
"How's Stiles doing?" Athena asks, diverting the conversation away from his work. Sheriff Stilinski's eyes brighten up with affection at the mention of their son.
"He's doing well. Good grades in school so far. He’s on the lacrosse team, even. Going around rabble-rousing with Scott as usual," he says fondly before his eyes darken. "They're the ones who called in Derek Hale for his sister's murder. Poor girl," Sheriff Stilinski shakes his head. "Dismembered like that. Nobody deserves to die that way."
"Are you sure it's her brother? They fight all the time but it's rare for demigod siblings to turn on each other. The consequences are too severe. Hades ensures that."
Sheriff Stilinski shakes his head. "I'm still trying to get a full picture of everything, but that Hale boy doesn't feel like a murderer to me."
"Well, I'm sure you will solve the problem in due time."
"You seem to be very confident of that," Sheriff Stilinski says, rolling his shoulders as he tries to relax.
Athena smiles, her grey eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's because I'm always right, and you know it."
"Tell me again why I'm here, Apollo," Artemis grumbles as they stand in the corridor of the school, dressed like teenagers. Apollo's in a Florida State Seminoles hoodie and jeans, whilst Artemis is in a denim jacket and skirt. The students rush past them, engrossed in their daily routines, none of them noticing the two strangers in their midst.
"I found you a good candidate for the Hunters," Apollo shares eagerly with his sister.
"Oh, really?" Artemis asks, intrigued in spite of herself.
"I know recruitment's been a bit slow lately, now with the Amazons stepping up on their HR efforts," Apollo explains, "So I thought to help you a little."
Artemis sniffs in disdain. "Amazons. The bane of my life."
"I have to say, I can't blame them for being a more attractive employer. Their benefits are better. After all, they get to have se-" Apollo says before he doubles over, having been jabbed in the stomach with her bow.
"And I offer eternal youth and immortality. It's definitely a better bargain."
"Uh huh," Apollo agrees noncommittally, eyes roving, trying to find his target.
"Where is this candidate you're talking about, Apollo?" Artemis asks, sounding cross.
"She's around somewhere," Apollo replies, distracted, "You'll like her. Daughter of a demigod herself, and niece of one. I did a background check and everything."
"Which one?"
"Her aunt's a daughter of Eris."
"Eris? That doesn't sound encouraging at all."
"Give her a chance. That's just the aunt. Her father's a son of Nemesis. Very righteous man, he is. More stable than the other son of Nemesis we had recently."
"This sounds less and less promising by the second. And you want me to recruit her for the Hunters?"
"Well, yes."
"I don't have a good feeling about this, Apollo."
"Come on," Apollo tugs on Artemis' hand. "Just take a look."
He leads her along a row of lockers, where a girl with long jet-black hair is fiddling with the lock on her door.
"Is that the girl?"
"Yep," Apollo rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Allison Argent. What do you think?"
Athena leans back, eyeing the girl critically. However, Scott McCall appears with a bunch of balloons then, and Allison’s face lights up like a Macy’s Christmas window. Artemis purses her lips in annoyance and kicks her brother in the shins.
"Not a good candidate anymore she isn’t," she tells him. "Don’t waste my time like this, Apollo."
"Aw, crap!" Apollo swears. "Come on Artemis, can’t you make an exception? How do you know, well, if she’s done stuff with the kid?"
Artemis turns to glare at her brother.
"I could turn him into a tree?" he offers. "Then she’ll still be available."
Artemis places her hands on her hips. "I think we can both agree that Scott McCall is no Hyacinth."
Apollo stares back at his sister, clutching his chest dramatically. "How could you remind me of my dead ex? That is a low blow!"
"Apollo," Artemis growls and she grows taller and older, the silver jacket changing to a familiar yellow and black one instead; the one she favoured after he introduced her to all those Bruce Lee movies back in the seventies.
"Okay, okay," Apollo puts up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I get it. I'll find you a new girl. Girls. Wait, why does that sound so wrong?"
Artemis takes one step forward. "They. Are. Not. Girls." She grits out.
"Hunters, that is. New Hunters." Apollo pouts. "Man, you are so picky nowadays."
"What are you doing here?" Melissa McCall demands.
Hermes looks at her sadly, wondering where the love she once had for him went. "I just wanted to catch up."
She puts the laundry basket in front of her chest, warding him off. "There's nothing to talk about," she says stiffly.
"What about Scott?"
"Fine. He's doing great. Well, not his grades. But he's made the lacrosse first string."
"Is he still hanging out with Stiles Stilinski?"
"Yes," Melissa looks at Hermes warily. "Why?"
"Nothing. But it's good he's friends with a son of Athena," Hermes observes. "Her children," he sucks in a deep breath, "She makes sure her children make something of themselves."
"Unlike some other gods," Melissa snaps back.
"Melissa..."
"Go," she points to the door. "Scott and I have gone without your help for this long. We can definitely go without it for the rest of our lives."
"I never meant to lie," Hermes makes another attempt to reach out to her.
Melissa McCall looks at him steadily and points to the door. "But you did anyway. Please get out."
The door shuts behind him as he finally leaves. She locks it even though it's a rather useless gesture against the power of a god, but it makes her feel better regardless. Then she gets back to doing her laundry before Hermes interrupted her, face grim as if set in stone. She was done crying after Hermes a long time ago.
Stiles waves excitedly when he sees his mother enter the restaurant, looking calm, collected and utterly in control. He loved his mom of course. She’s the one who rocked him to sleep when he was down with the flu in kindergarten, the one who kissed and bandaged his skinned knees, and fed him ice-cream on hot summer afternoons. She’s the one he misses when he’s tired and low, the one for whom he buys red velvet cupcakes and flowers to put on the gravestone when Mother’s Day weekend rolls around.
But Athena’s also his mother; she’s the one who appeared after his sixth birthday to comfort him on those lonely nights when his dad was out at work and he had given his latest babysitter fits yet again with his antics. When he turned thirteen, she gave him his laptop with all those exciting programmes installed. "Don’t tell Annabeth you got this," she had warned him with a wink, "She can get so competitive".
He wonders if he should have be more confused about the idea of having two mothers. But his dad had explained the whole situation to him when he was younger and rather than being upset, he thought it was pretty darn cool.
"How are things going?" Athena asks, kissing him on the cheek as she passes him a new hard drive.
"Good," Stiles says, as he digs into his tagliatelle.
"That's not what your father said," Athena remarks archly, and Stiles groans.
"Is he still going on about me and Scott being at the Hale house?"
"He just wants you to be careful."
"I know, I know," Stiles acknowledges and then frowns. "Maybe you should tell him to be careful about his cholesterol instead."
"Don't change the subject, Stiles. It won't do to rile a son of Ares," Athena reminds him.
"Derek Hale can't do anything to me from prison," Stiles mutters rebelliously.
"Yes, and when he gets out?"
Stiles stares at Athena, dumbstruck. "Okay, I confess not to have planned things that far."
"Plan harder," Athena advises him. "Think, remember what I taught you."
"Yes, Mom."
Athena takes pity on him. "Now I've gotten that out of the way, let's talk about where you want to go today. Museums? Universities?"
"Wait, so you didn't really mean to nag me about Derek Hale?"
Athena twitches in her seat. "I did promise your dad I'd talk to you about it."
"Mom..."
"Besides," Athena continues, "As if I'd let Derek Hale hurt you."
Stiles protests loudly, using the back of his hand to wipe off the chocolate shake from his mouth sloppily. "I can take care of myself, Mom."
"Still. Tell me if Derek Hale pulls any stunts," Athena says, a dangerous glint in her eyes, "Let's see how Ares will fight his wars without me around to stop him from mucking things up."
"So. Umm," Grover begins, hesitant. "We're sort of doing this census of all the satyrs in active service."
Dr Deaton looks serenely at his visitor.
Grover tugs on his cap and whispers loudly. "Percy, you gotta help me here!"
Percy stares back at his friend. "What? Dude, this is Council business! I can't help you."
"But Percy," Grover moans, and he picks up a can of Dr. Pepper from Dr Deaton's desk and starts chewing on the edges. "Dr Deaton here's a legend! Beacon Hills has one of the highest concentration of demigods in the country, and almost none of them die under his watch."
"Grover. You're a Lord of the Wild now. I don't know, doesn't that make you his boss or something?"
"I don't know! Does it?"
"You're a legend too, Mr Underwood," Dr Deaton finally speaks. "The youngest Lord of the Wild in millennia and a member of the Council of the Cloven Elders. You've done more in your youth than what most satyrs achieve over a lifetime."
"Oh. Wow." Grover replies, awed, before turning back to grab Percy's jacket sleeve. "Percy! He's heard of me!"
"Grover, Grover," Percy says, prying Grover's fingers off his arm. "Relax. You're here to talk to him. So why don't you?"
Grover turns back to Dr Deaton and coughs self-consciously. "Well, I guess we could catch up on the status of the demigods here."
Dr Deaton chuckles. It's a warm and comforting sound. "Which one do you want to start with?"
Grover casts around wildly for a reply.
"Hey, it's your job, man," Percy deflects quickly. "Don't look at me."
"What about the Hales?" Dr Deaton offers, solving the problem for him.
Grover wipes his hands on his jeans. "Yeah. Sounds like a good place to start."
Hermes watches as a teenaged boy attempts repeated shots at the makeshift goal he's set up at the back of his yard. The boy is breathing heavily from his exertions, a slow simmering rage burning in his eyes as he makes shot after shot.
"You're a very angry person, Jackson," Hermes says casually, hand tucked into the pockets of his suit.
"Who are you?" Jackson holds his lacrosse stick in front of him in a defensive pose.
"Relax, kid," Hermes lets his disguise drop just a little bit, the caduceus extending in his arms before resuming his usual appearance.
"Hermes," Jackson says dully.
Hermes pauses to think, before responding. "Interesting. You recognised my Greek aspect first."
"So?"
"That might be significant."
"Significant what?"
"We can assume you're Greek rather than Roman, at least."
"What the-- What the fuck do you want?" Jackson roars, the old hurt boiling to the surface at the mention of his heritage. "What do you know about me?"
"I should be asking that question, I think," Hermes counters. "Though, I have to say, it's pretty obvious."
"Why are you here then? Are you my father?" Jackson asks bluntly.
"Oh no, no." Hermes denies immediately. "I claim all my children now. I'll never hear the end of it from Poseidon or Percy if I don't. Besides," his eyes soften a little, "I made a promise to somebody before."
"We've even installed an app for that," Jackson hears a voice say. "Helps him keep track of all his children, it does. Very useful. We're thinking of putting it up for sale for the other gods to use."
"George. Martha, shut up. I'm talking to the kid." Hermes chides his snakes. "Anyway, back to you, Jackson."
"I just," Jackson says, spreading his arms wide, "I just want to know who my father is. Is that too much to ask for?"
Hermes grimaces. "Kid, sometimes when it comes to the gods, that can be a tall order. There was that circular Father sent out after the First Great Prophecy, but you know, the gods don't always pay attention to those things."
"What do you mean they don't pay attention?"
"I can't answer for him. I don't know. But sometimes we forget."
"Forget?" Jackson spits out the words, furious. "Forget? How could you forget about your own child?"
Hermes scratches his head. "Well, gods can get pretty busy handling stuff."
"But not too busy to seduce women and have children with them," Jackson rails. "Do you know what my mother did? She gave me up after my father dumped her!"
"We gods and goddesses are charged with a far bigger domain than what you mortals and demigods could ever imagine." Hermes admonishes Jackson, tone growing sharp. "Don't comment on things you don't understand."
Jackson ignores Hermes' words, glaring sullenly at the ground as he wallows in his misery.
"Look, if you ever make it to New York, there will always be room in my cabin for you," Hermes promises Jackson. "Sometimes, you get claimed there instead. Look how well things turned out for Percy Jackson and Piper McLean."
"I'll go only when I know who my father is," Jackson replies, turning down the invitation immediately. "Not before."
Hermes gives up, recognising a lost cause when he sees one. "Very well. Suit yourself. But just to warn you kid, don't get your hopes up."
It ends (somewhat) in another fire.
Ares watches impassively as his son tears out the throat of his own uncle with his own hands, bathing himself in a shower of blood.
"Are you satisfied now?" Bacchus asks, bitterness lacing his every word.
"I never sought revenge on your son, Bacchus," Ares replies. "He couldn't help what he became. I think we both should be more pleased about Kate Argent's fate, don't you think?"
"You're right. At least we got that vicious child out of the way. On that, we can agree."
"Eris will pay for this debacle," Ares swears. "I will make sure of it."
Bacchus turns to his older brother. "I want to be there when you give it to her."
Ares curls his lips, feeling the bloodlust rise in his veins. "I'll let you have ringside seats when I do. But not so quickly, though. Father will have my hide if I start a new war so soon."
Bacchus steps back, satisfied with Ares' assurances. "I can wait."
"Fine. Come, let's go. There's nothing else we can do here for our children."
They leave just as Derek Hale, son of Ares, declares himself the new Alpha of the Beacon Hills pack.
"Congratulations," Athena tells Sheriff Stilinski. "I knew you'd solve the case."
"Thank you," he replies, waving his hand over the files scattered over his table. "It feels good, getting all that nasty stuff sorted out. Kate Argent, huh? This is totally unprofessional of me, but I'm glad she's dead."
"The children of Eris are known to gamble with high stakes. She knew what she was getting into when she started this. No need to feel sorry for her."
"I know. All those people she murdered. And then, Peter Hale," Sheriff Stilinski muses almost to himself. "Lydia Martin's still in hospital," he goes on. "The poor girl, such a pity she got herself mixed up in this mess."
Athena coughs delicately.
"What?"
"About Lydia Martin..." she begins. "There's something I need to tell you."
"You're not going to do anything, are you?" Nico asks Tisiphone.
"Do what, Mr di Angelo?"
"About Derek Hale."
"Technically, he has violated the code."
"But there are exemption clauses."
"There are no exemption clauses, Mr di Angelo. Your father and I made sure of that."
"Not even for me?" Nico asks, putting his best kicked-puppy expression on. "Derek was just defending his sister."
Tisiphone glares at Nico. "Well, if the correct paperwork is never filed on the Hale case..."
"I'll take care of it myself," Nico promises, then he chuckles gleefully. "Did you just agree to a case of willful negligence?"
"I most certainly did not."
"Don't worry, I won't tell if you won't tell."
"Mr di Angelo, kindly refrain from those childish turns of phrase, it doesn't become you."
"Aww, but you like it," Nico teases.
"You are the only son of my employer after all."
"And let's face it, dealing with me is better than that day job you have."
"There is that."
"I'm definitely easier to handle than that son of Mercury. The one you keep complaining about - the one in Los Angeles."
Tisiphone wrinkles her nose in disapproval. "That particular son of Mercury is unfortunately aided and abetted by a son of Vulcan and a descendant of Amazons. Fortunately, there is a son of Mars to balance out his more impetuous tendencies."
"That's just a long-winded way of saying I'm still your favourite, right?"
"Mr di Angelo, please."
"I knew it!" Nico whoops with joy and Tisiphone allows herself a small smile.
Sheriff Stilinski stares at Athena, jaw agape. "You're not joking are you?"
"I never joke."
"But, Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski splutters in an undignified fashion. "And that silly crush of his, even though he thinks I don't know."
"Demigod siblings recognise each other, even on a subconscious level. That's probably why he's drawn to her."
"Well, that explains his obsession then," Sheriff Stilinski exhales loudly. "But really. Mr Martin?"
"Her father is a brilliant corporate lawyer," Athena says primly. "And I am also the goddess of commerce in my other aspect."
Sheriff Stilinski laughs. "It's just that, well, I guess I never thought I'd have a stepdaughter of sorts."
"You don't mind do you?"
"Why should I mind? It's none of my business at all. Besides," Sheriff Stilinski gazes at Athena fondly. "You gave me and my wife Stiles. That's the most important thing, insofar as I am concerned."
Athena stands up to go. "I knew you'd understand. That's what so unique about you. You're so open to learning new things."
"That's very flattering indeed, coming from the goddess of wisdom herself. But where are you going now?"
Athena tucks her hair behind her ear. "Off to have a mother-and-son talk with Stiles."
Sheriff Stilinski guffaws. "Oh, good luck with that. Tell me how he takes the news."
"They don't realise it, do they?" Harmonia asks her son, as they take a walk along the park together. The passers-by pay them no heed, seeing them as just another mother and son taking a stroll amongst the flowers and trees, enjoying the cool weather in fall.
"No, they don't," Danny replies. "I don't think any of them realise who I am, actually."
"Are you all right with that? I could raise it up with Zeus, you know," she says, suddenly concerned. "You deserve more credit than that."
Danny makes a face. "Nah, it's too much of a bother. Besides, I don't want to upset Jackson."
"His father still hasn't claimed him?" Harmonia asks, sympathetic.
"Nope," Danny's shoulders sag in the knowledge that the older Jackson got, the more likely it is that he'll never find out the identity of his godly parent. "I wish I could help him more."
Harmonia puts an arm around Danny's waist and hugs him. "You can't do everything, Danny. That's not our role."
"I know."
"Now with Derek Hale as the new Alpha, you’re going to be needed more than ever."
Danny snickers. "Yeah, I can just see the fights Scott and Jackson are going to get into."
"Don’t take sides, Danny," Harmonia reminds her son.
"Of course not. But Scott’s got Stiles. Somebody’s got to watch out for Jackson."
"Fair enough," Harmonia chuckles. "You’re there to keep the peace after all."
"You're not kidding me, right?" Stiles asks Athena. He leans forward, putting his face into his hands. "This is so freaky! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"There was no need to. I had no intention of stepping in, until your dad told me about," Athena hedges a little, "Certain developments."
Stiles scowls. "Gross. Now I know how Luke Skywalker feels like."
"Hush now, Stiles, surely you're exaggerating," Athena rebukes her son.
"Well, it sure feels like it!"
"If it helps you any, I rather think Jackson Whittemore will not be her Han Solo," Athena says cheerfully, looking rather unrepentant for a mother who might have just mentally scarred her son for life.
"Gee, that's sure to be helpful," Stiles makes a face. "But why didn't Lydia know?"
"Because unlike your father, Mr Martin made it quite clear he didn't want me to be part of Lydia's life. I stayed away out of respect for him. But considering what a hash he's made of things, and how she's managed to get herself tangled in the Hale family business, I'm going to make a unilateral revision of those arrangements."
"This is going to be so awkward when she wakes up and finds out about you," Stiles complains.
"You'll cope. Be kind to your sister, Stiles," she instructs him. "She's going to need your help adjusting to things."
"I kind of think it should be the other way around, actually," Stiles mumbles to himself as he tucks the blankets around Lydia carefully. "She's the one who's always mean to me."
Athena doesn't deign to reply, only placing a kiss on Stiles' forehead before she goes. "Don't lie. You're happy you found out. You've always wanted a sibling, after all. And take care. We'll talk more when Lydia's better."
Stiles nods, not paying attention to Athena’s words. Suddenly, he jerks up from where he’s staring at the monitors surrounding Lydia, one more question on his mind. "Wait. Mom, Mom, if I’m Luke Skywalker, does that make Dad Darth Vader?"
"What are we doing here?" Ares asks Aphrodite, as they walk into a diner dressed as a young yuppie couple. "I thought this wasn't your scene."
"Usually not, no. But I’ve been informed about some recent developments," Aphrodite tells him, nudging him. "Look."
Ares turns to follow Aphrodite's gaze to a table in the corner of the diner, where his son and Stiles Stilinski are seated; fries, burgers and shakes spread between the two of them. Stiles' laptop is open next to the food. They're not talking much, but Ares notices how Derek waits patiently as Stiles makes inroads into the food, whilst he himself sips on a yoghurt shake.
"Do you want to know what they're talking about?" Aphrodite whispers into his ear.
"What?"
"Stiles has managed to do what nobody else has been able to - persuade your son to take down that house of his, and build a new one elsewhere. Apparently, Nico di Angelo's going to help with the demolition."
"High time he got rid of that mess," Ares grunts. "But is this genuine? This whole thing?" he makes vague movements with his hands to encompass Stiles and Derek.
"Very," Aphrodite informs him, smiling in an approving fashion as she reaches out to hold Ares’ hand. "It's the real deal. I promise you, I had nothing to do with it."
Ares swears creatively. "A child of Athena?" he grouses. "She'll be unbearable to deal with during our meetings on Olympus once she finds out."
Aphrodite laughs. "Well, a warrior can't do without a strategist," she reminds him. "The boy’s one of her brightest yet. And you have to admit, he's less irritating than that Annabeth girl."
"Huh. That is true," Ares concurs, still not taking his eyes off Derek.
"Do you approve?"
"Well, a brat of Athena's wouldn't have been my choice for him. But the kid deserves to be happy."
Aphrodite leans her head against Ares' shoulder, pleased with his reply.
"They'll be good for each other. Your son doesn't quite know it yet though, but he's getting there."
"And you'd know this to be true of course," Ares remarks, voice dripping with irony.
"Oh definitely!" Aphrodite replies, smug in her knowledge. "I am the goddess of love after all."
Ares chugs down his beer. "Anyway, if that Stiles kid upsets my son, I can always cut his balls off."
"So what do you think of my plans?" Stiles asks Derek, mouth still full with curly fries.
"Sounds good," Derek agrees genially.
"You sure?" Stiles asks, looking uncertain, fingers splayed across the laptop keyboard. "Because I can still switch some of the things around..."
"Stiles," Derek hastens to assure him. "I'm cool with it. Just go right on ahead."
Stiles' eyes brighten with joy and he bounces enthusiastically in his seat. "Awesome! I'll get Scott and Jackson on it ASAP. Nico and Percy said they'd help too and Percy said he'd ask Annabeth to check my stuff too, if she has the time. Also, Grover said something about persuading some dryads and nymphs to come move to your property. Make it brighter and stuff, you know. I hope you like flowers."
"Laura loved flowers," Derek offers suddenly. "Flowers would be great, actually."
"Really?" That was the first time Derek had mentioned his sister in their conversations.
"Stop worrying Stiles, and just get on with it. I don't mind."
"That's good," Stiles bites on his lip, staring at his laptop screen again. "Would you," he starts then stops. "Would you like me to do something for her?" he shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. "A garden or something?"
Derek inhales deeply and looks Stiles in the eye, feeling his throat constrict at the thought of his sister. "Yes. That would be nice. Something to remember her by."
Stiles nods, frowning as he goes back to his laptop, mind whirling with a dozen new ideas. He starts in surprise when Derek comes round from his side of the table to sit next to him, one arm stretched out over the back of the diner seat over his shoulders, the tips of his fingers trailing over Stiles' bicep.
"We should plan this together, actually," Derek says, voice deliberately casual. "Since she was my sister. Would you be okay with that?"
Stiles works his jaw soundlessly before he finally gathers his wits to reply. "Yeah," he feels himself flush when he hears his voice come out as a high-pitched shriek, and he tries again. "Yeah, we could totally plan this together."
end
Author's note:
- Word of the day: Handwave. Handwave. Handwave. For both Percy Jackson and Teen Wolf timelines and canon.
- Tisiphone is Hetty Lange. Bonus points for those who caught the NCIS: Los Angeles reference.
- Yes, I know Apollo states quite clearly that his chariot travels only from East to West. There's a return trip involved, OK?
- There's a lot of Greek Mythology dream casts going on, which I am a huge fan of. I'm easily pleased, but Hades will always be Michael Fassbender to me. And Apollo's a fan of Florida State Uni because he's Bradley James and Katie McGrath is Artemis. I haven't found space for Colin Morgan and Angel Coulby yet, alas :(
Series: Teen Wolf 2011
Character/Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, entire cast of Teen Wolf.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Percy Jackson and Teen Wolf fusion/crossover.
those who deal in fire and blood
It starts with a fire.
Two ladies stand at the top of a hill, watching a house burn to the ground, the shrieks of pain and children's wails playing a harmonious note to their ears. The woman hugs the younger one close to her, laughing as she strokes her daughter's blond hair, humming her approval.
"So. What do you think?" Kate Argent asks her mother, tucking her hair behind her ear. "My sacrifice to you," she offers, eyes gleaming with delight at the sight of the Hale house being razed to cinders.
"Glorious," Eris agrees, as she views the carnage hungrily. "Most fitting. Thank you. I couldn't have asked for more."
Their gloating is interrupted when a man appears, leather jacket flapping in the wind, eyes blazing a furious gold. "Eris," he roars in fury, "What is the meaning of this?"
"Oh, please, Ares. Loosen up. We're just having a bit of fun," Eris says flippantly. "Besides, what are you so upset about? Kate made sure your kids were out of the way. They'll be fine. It was the least she could do, after all the help your son gave her."
Next to her, Kate Argent preens in satisfaction.
Ares stares at the demigod, eyes reflecting the ongoing fire in the Hale property. "I know what you did to my son," he hisses at Kate. "You will regret this."
"Oh, I'll be all right, I think," Kate replies, ignoring the cold shiver creeping down her spine. "You can't interfere after all."
"Such arrogance for a young brat," Ares addresses Eris, keeping his gaze fixed on Kate. "You'd do well to warn your daughter about those who tempt the gods."
Eris shrugs, picking off ash from her jacket. "The warning is noted. But shouldn't you be making sure your children are all right instead?"
Ares disappears in flash of golden fire which blends right into the one razing the Hale mansion to cinders and ash.
He brings them to the wolf-house. Lupa pads out to meet him, bowing low in obeisance.
"My children," Mars tells her, though he notices how her eyes rest exclusively on Laura. “Please guide them as you did the others.”
"She is late to the training, my lord," Lupa chides Mars gently. "It will not come easy to her."
"I'm sorry," Mars apologises to the guardian. An apology from a god was a rare occurrence indeed, but this was no common occasion, even by their standards. "But they've always been special."
"Very well then. But the boy," Lupa speaks again, before she is interrupted.
"I know, he can't stay," Mars concedes. "But I just wanted them to have a little more time together."
Lupa bows her head in acquiescence. "Very well, my lord." The she-wolf tosses her head back, a summons to the two demigods huddled close to each other. "Come, Laura Hale," she says gravely. "Let me see what you are made of."
"But," Laura protests, kneeling before the giant she-wolf, exhausted after her trial by combat. "My brother--"
"Is no child of Rome," Lupa intones, looking down at the two siblings. "He will walk a different path from you. You know that."
"But he's my brother," Laura argues, gripping Derek's hand even tighter. The boy glares at the she-wolf, daring her to say otherwise.
"And a son of Ares. He belongs in the other camp," Lupa tells her more gently. "You will not be the first siblings separated so."
"There were others?" Derek asks.
"A son of Jupiter, and a daughter of Zeus, yes. They were kept apart by necessity."
"But," Laura protests again, unwilling to lose her brother, after all that had happened to them. That was the reason why they both had never left for their respective camps, they'd heard of the laws mandating the separation between the Greeks and Romans.
Lupa sighs and settles herself down on her paws. "Fear not, my child. The laws have changed since the Second Great Prophecy. The Greek and Roman camps are known to each other now; communication is permitted."
"So I can still talk to Derek?" Laura asks, hope flickering in her eyes. This was news to her - the Hales hadn't exactly bothered keeping up with the developments.
The she-wolf sniffs her disapproval. "You may even meet him after your basic training is completed. Chiron introduced this thing called an 'exchange programme'."
For the first time in months, Laura Hale deigns to smile a little.
"I don't need a ride," Derek argues with Laura, defiant as only a teenaged boy could be.
"Yes, but it'll take ages to get you to New York on your own," Laura coaxes him. "This is going to be so much faster."
"Come on kid," Apollo tells him, honking the horn on the van. "Get in."
"I'm not a kid," Derek replies automatically. "And I can get there myself."
"Whatever," Apollo shrugs. "But I am on a schedule. You sure you don't want to join us?" he waggles his eyebrows. "Look at all the girls I have at the back."
The group of young women turn to glare collectively at the god, fingers twitching at their silver bows.
"For the last time, brother, stop referring to my Hunters as girls," the young woman sitting in the front passenger seat grouses.
"Aww, have a sense of humour! Why so grumpy today, Artemis? Want me to sing you a song? Or a ballad?"
"No!" The Hunters seated at the back of the van chorus loudly.
"Get in, Derek," one of the girls orders Derek. Like the rest of the girls, she's wearing a silver parka and combat pants, but there's a silver circlet on her head, and she has ear cuffs and several rings on her fingers, her eyes lined with kohl.
"I'm Thalia," she introduces herself. "I'm Artemis' lieutenant."
"So?"
"Derek, don't be rude," Laura reprimands him.
"Don't worry, I have a kid brother myself. I know how they can get."
Derek crosses his arms and sulks.
"I'll make sure he gets to camp safely," Thalia promises Laura, her silver ear cuffs glinting in the dying sun. "Now get in. We don't want to be late for the return trip."
"Fine." Derek relents. "But you take care, Laura."
"You take care yourself," Laura teases back, hugging him tightly. Derek blinks away the tears in his eyes, telling himself that he's not upset about being leaving his sister. He climbs into the van, feeling very self-conscious at the unfriendly stares the Hunters give him.
"How come you don't hug me that way?" Apollo asks Artemis. "I feel unloved! Wait, I feel a haiku coming on--"
"Apollo," Artemis sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Just get a move on."
"All right, all right," Apollo agrees. He invites Derek to sit in the front, gesturing to the seat right behind him. "Sorry, only my sister gets to ride up front with me today. You don't have a chaperone."
"What?"
"I can take care of one boy, I would think."
Apollo laughs. "It's not for your protection. It's for him. I don't want you turning him into a stag if he upsets you or anything. No animals allowed in my chariot, they'll ruin the upholstery."
Artemis punches him on the arm. "Apollo. Shut up and drive."
Thalia rolls her eyes. "Brothers," she mutters. "Honestly."
Derek half-pays attention to the two gods arguing with each other. He leans back in his seat and promises to himself that he would speak to Laura as soon as possible once he reaches New York. He doesn't notice when he slides slowly into sleep, too tired to enjoy the spectacular view of the sky as it can be seen from Apollo's chariot.
Six Years Later.
"Oh," Laura says, as she sees the figure standing in the forest, shaggy black hair obscuring his eyes. "Pluto’s ambassador," she comments automatically, addressing Nico di Angelo.
"The one and the same," he replies with a shrug.
"So does that mean--" Laura turns to look but her view is obscured when Nico vanishes, quick as a thought, and reappears behind her to block her line of sight.
"You don’t need to see that," Nico says, wincing.
Laura stiffens, preparing to argue - it was her body after all - but gives up after a moment’s thought. "You’re right. It’s irrelevant now. I’m dead, aren’t I?"
"I’m afraid so," he concurs with a heavy tone of regret.
"I can’t believe Peter would do something like this," Laura murmurs under her breath - though technically, she isn’t doing that anymore. Breathing, that is. "He was always so relaxed, so cheerful."
"People change," Nico points out. "And your family's been through a lot, even for demigods."
"You can say that again," Laura agrees. "But why are you here? You don’t do this for everybody do you?" she asks shrewdly. Pluto’s ambassador had always kept to himself for the most part whenever he appeared at camp, but from what she understood of death and dying, most people didn’t usually warrant the care of the Ghost King himself.
"I thought you’d like an escort." Nico shrugs again, and although it’s impossible to see even with the moon shining brightly above them, Laura swears she thinks she can see a blush rising on his cheeks.
"Somehow I don’t think everybody gets VIP attention," she teases Nico, finding it odd that she’s come to terms with her own condition so quickly.
"I had an older sister once," Nico explains vaguely. "I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. So…"
Laura nods in understanding. She knows that feeling, that hunger of wanting to fix things and to make them right. She feels a sense of sadness wash over her at all the things she wanted to do for her family, for her brother, and all that will never be now.
"Percy always said that I had a sister complex," Nico continues with a small smile. "Do you mind, though? I can leave if you want. The Doors of Death are easy to get to on your own, especially since we’re on the West Coast. I made sure Thanatos gave good instructions."
"It’s fine," Laura assures him. "It’s great, actually, that you’re here." She places her hands on her hips, thinking. "Do we need to leave soon?"
"No," Nico tells her. "I mean, you’d have to go eventually or they’ll hunt you down and haul your ass back there, but yeah, there’s no rush."
"That’s good. Because oh god, Derek," Laura starts, clapping a hand to her mouth when the truth finally sinks in. "Who’s going to tell him?"
"I’ll tell him myself," Nico promises. "I can go immediately after this. Do you have any messages for him?"
"I can’t tell him about Peter, can I?"
"No," Nico disagrees immediately. "No interference permitted. Anything else though?"
Laura runs a hand through her hair and sighs. She stares at Nico, taking in his slim frame, his sword at his hip and the ring on his finger. He cut an unassuming figure at first glance, but there was no mistaking the menace and fear that Nico radiated, holding his aura tightly around him like a cloak. So different from Derek, but so much the same, she thinks, recognising Nico’s fierce love for his long-lost older sister.
"Tell him, I love him," Laura says, hearing her voice shake. "And tell him to stop being such fitness freak, he looks fine the way he is. All those restaurants in Brooklyn and he’s surviving on yoghurt and muesli? And tell him to expand that wardrobe of his, I’m sick of seeing him in black and grey. Loosen up a little. Oh god, that sounds so corny," she finally pauses. "You know what, forget I said that."
Nico tilts his head, a sad look in his eyes. "Don’t worry. I’ll tell him everything."
"Thank you," Laura whispers. She stays huddled within herself for a few more minutes before she straightens up again, shoulders held back, a fierce look on her face as befitting a daughter of Mars.
"Are you ready now?" He steps up to her and holds up his arm to her, like a gentleman escorting a lady to a dance.
Laura takes Nico’s arm. "All right. Let’s go. Take me to the Underworld."
"Father’s been in a good mood lately. I’ll see what I can do about streamlining the process for you," Nico promises. Laura laughs her last laugh on earth as they both vanish into the shadows.
It's past visiting hours in Beacon Hills Long Term Facility but no one notices the lone visitor inside Peter Hale’s room. The man claps a hand on the shoulder of the patient, head bowed in grief.
"My son," Bacchus mourns, "I had hoped you’d inherit some other traits of mine. That particular period of my own life wasn’t exactly covered in glory."
He looks up when he hears the curtain rustling. A small lady with round-rimmed glasses, and a short bob, dressed immaculately in a pantsuit looks impassively at him from her place next to the window.
"Stay away from him," Bacchus snarls.
"I’ve no business with Mr Peter Hale today," Tisiphone sniffs. "Lord Hades hasn’t issued any orders. Neither has young Mr di Angelo. This is just a courtesy visit, if you will."
"It’s not his fault," Bacchus ignores her, "Not with Eris meddling the way she usually does."
"But Laura Hale is dead by his hand," she warns. "There will be a reckoning eventually."
"I know," Bacchus acknowledges, growling low in his throat. "I know. Just. Not yet."
"All right," Tisiphone agrees. "After all, the paperwork isn’t in anyway." She disappears in a waft of Caron perfume.
"Well," Bacchus says, loosening his tie. "Looks like you caught a lucky break. I can’t say I approve, Peter. But I know why you’re doing it. And in all honesty, I can’t exactly blame you. Just remember, there will be a price to be paid at the end of it all."
Peter Hale looks up and smiles beatifically at his father. "It'll be worth it."
"I heard what happened," Thalia sits down next to him, not bothering with the niceties. Derek runs a hand through his hair, appreciating her candour. Everybody's been walking on eggshells around him ever since the news broke and he's tired of it. "I'm sorry about Laura."
Derek stretches his legs out in front of him but does not speak.
"What are you going to do now?"
"I'm going back home," he says, resolute.
Thalia nods. "There's a lot of unfinished business there for you in Beacon Hills. How will you go?"
Derek blinks. He hadn't had the chance to think about something so mundane as travel plans. "I don't know. Train or plane, I guess. Plane, probably. That's the fastest anyway."
"Forget it. You'll want to be there as soon as possible to handle things before the police mess it up for you. I'll ask Nico to bring you back," Thalia promises. "Shadow travel will be so much faster. Travel light. Just bring what you need."
"But Nico's just got back from Beacon Hills. He's still tired."
"I know. All these years, and shadow travel still takes a lot out of him. But I'll get him to bring you there. Just let him have enough time to rest."
"Why? He's got better things to do than to bring people around from place to place."
"He doesn't do it for most people, no. But he'll say yes because it'll be me doing the asking," Thalia says easily, confident in her abilities to persuade Nico to do her bidding.
"Why you?" Derek asks. "How come Chiron or Percy can't do it?"
Thalia smirks. "They could. But everybody knows Nico's nicer to older sisters."
"You're working late again."
Sheriff Stilinski looks up to find a woman leaning at the door of his office, arms crossed across her chest as she watches him work. He breaks into a broad grin at the sight of her, walking round the desk to hold his hands out to her in greeting.
"Athena."
"Just checking up on you," Athena receives his greeting graciously. She sits down opposite him, tucking a hand under her chin. As always, she goes straight to the point, not wasting time on small talk. "What are you working on now?"
"I’m just trying to sort this case out."
"Oh, what case?" Athena inquires, curious.
"Murder."
"And who's the victim?" Athena asks, and Sheriff Stilinski tells her, glad to have somebody to discuss his work with without fear of lawsuits or consequences, just like those years ago when he was deployed overseas on assignment.
"Laura Hale. I don't know if it's got anything to do with the Hale house fire six years ago. There's nothing connecting it now, but it's too much of a coincidence. She comes back and then she's murdered? It's got to be related."
"So that explains why Mars had been in a bad mood lately," Athena murmurs absently.
"She's a daughter of Mars? I had suspected her heritage. What about Derek then?"
"He's a son of Ares."
"Mars and Ares?"
"We do have two aspects," Athena reminds him. Sheriff Stilinski blinks when Athena shifts in the chair, her curly hair straightening out into a tight bun at the back of her head, her flowing dress changing into a pencil skirt and work jacket.
"How does that even work out? You know what," Sheriff Stilinski stops himself, "I don't need to know."
"How's Stiles doing?" Athena asks, diverting the conversation away from his work. Sheriff Stilinski's eyes brighten up with affection at the mention of their son.
"He's doing well. Good grades in school so far. He’s on the lacrosse team, even. Going around rabble-rousing with Scott as usual," he says fondly before his eyes darken. "They're the ones who called in Derek Hale for his sister's murder. Poor girl," Sheriff Stilinski shakes his head. "Dismembered like that. Nobody deserves to die that way."
"Are you sure it's her brother? They fight all the time but it's rare for demigod siblings to turn on each other. The consequences are too severe. Hades ensures that."
Sheriff Stilinski shakes his head. "I'm still trying to get a full picture of everything, but that Hale boy doesn't feel like a murderer to me."
"Well, I'm sure you will solve the problem in due time."
"You seem to be very confident of that," Sheriff Stilinski says, rolling his shoulders as he tries to relax.
Athena smiles, her grey eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's because I'm always right, and you know it."
"Tell me again why I'm here, Apollo," Artemis grumbles as they stand in the corridor of the school, dressed like teenagers. Apollo's in a Florida State Seminoles hoodie and jeans, whilst Artemis is in a denim jacket and skirt. The students rush past them, engrossed in their daily routines, none of them noticing the two strangers in their midst.
"I found you a good candidate for the Hunters," Apollo shares eagerly with his sister.
"Oh, really?" Artemis asks, intrigued in spite of herself.
"I know recruitment's been a bit slow lately, now with the Amazons stepping up on their HR efforts," Apollo explains, "So I thought to help you a little."
Artemis sniffs in disdain. "Amazons. The bane of my life."
"I have to say, I can't blame them for being a more attractive employer. Their benefits are better. After all, they get to have se-" Apollo says before he doubles over, having been jabbed in the stomach with her bow.
"And I offer eternal youth and immortality. It's definitely a better bargain."
"Uh huh," Apollo agrees noncommittally, eyes roving, trying to find his target.
"Where is this candidate you're talking about, Apollo?" Artemis asks, sounding cross.
"She's around somewhere," Apollo replies, distracted, "You'll like her. Daughter of a demigod herself, and niece of one. I did a background check and everything."
"Which one?"
"Her aunt's a daughter of Eris."
"Eris? That doesn't sound encouraging at all."
"Give her a chance. That's just the aunt. Her father's a son of Nemesis. Very righteous man, he is. More stable than the other son of Nemesis we had recently."
"This sounds less and less promising by the second. And you want me to recruit her for the Hunters?"
"Well, yes."
"I don't have a good feeling about this, Apollo."
"Come on," Apollo tugs on Artemis' hand. "Just take a look."
He leads her along a row of lockers, where a girl with long jet-black hair is fiddling with the lock on her door.
"Is that the girl?"
"Yep," Apollo rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Allison Argent. What do you think?"
Athena leans back, eyeing the girl critically. However, Scott McCall appears with a bunch of balloons then, and Allison’s face lights up like a Macy’s Christmas window. Artemis purses her lips in annoyance and kicks her brother in the shins.
"Not a good candidate anymore she isn’t," she tells him. "Don’t waste my time like this, Apollo."
"Aw, crap!" Apollo swears. "Come on Artemis, can’t you make an exception? How do you know, well, if she’s done stuff with the kid?"
Artemis turns to glare at her brother.
"I could turn him into a tree?" he offers. "Then she’ll still be available."
Artemis places her hands on her hips. "I think we can both agree that Scott McCall is no Hyacinth."
Apollo stares back at his sister, clutching his chest dramatically. "How could you remind me of my dead ex? That is a low blow!"
"Apollo," Artemis growls and she grows taller and older, the silver jacket changing to a familiar yellow and black one instead; the one she favoured after he introduced her to all those Bruce Lee movies back in the seventies.
"Okay, okay," Apollo puts up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I get it. I'll find you a new girl. Girls. Wait, why does that sound so wrong?"
Artemis takes one step forward. "They. Are. Not. Girls." She grits out.
"Hunters, that is. New Hunters." Apollo pouts. "Man, you are so picky nowadays."
"What are you doing here?" Melissa McCall demands.
Hermes looks at her sadly, wondering where the love she once had for him went. "I just wanted to catch up."
She puts the laundry basket in front of her chest, warding him off. "There's nothing to talk about," she says stiffly.
"What about Scott?"
"Fine. He's doing great. Well, not his grades. But he's made the lacrosse first string."
"Is he still hanging out with Stiles Stilinski?"
"Yes," Melissa looks at Hermes warily. "Why?"
"Nothing. But it's good he's friends with a son of Athena," Hermes observes. "Her children," he sucks in a deep breath, "She makes sure her children make something of themselves."
"Unlike some other gods," Melissa snaps back.
"Melissa..."
"Go," she points to the door. "Scott and I have gone without your help for this long. We can definitely go without it for the rest of our lives."
"I never meant to lie," Hermes makes another attempt to reach out to her.
Melissa McCall looks at him steadily and points to the door. "But you did anyway. Please get out."
The door shuts behind him as he finally leaves. She locks it even though it's a rather useless gesture against the power of a god, but it makes her feel better regardless. Then she gets back to doing her laundry before Hermes interrupted her, face grim as if set in stone. She was done crying after Hermes a long time ago.
Stiles waves excitedly when he sees his mother enter the restaurant, looking calm, collected and utterly in control. He loved his mom of course. She’s the one who rocked him to sleep when he was down with the flu in kindergarten, the one who kissed and bandaged his skinned knees, and fed him ice-cream on hot summer afternoons. She’s the one he misses when he’s tired and low, the one for whom he buys red velvet cupcakes and flowers to put on the gravestone when Mother’s Day weekend rolls around.
But Athena’s also his mother; she’s the one who appeared after his sixth birthday to comfort him on those lonely nights when his dad was out at work and he had given his latest babysitter fits yet again with his antics. When he turned thirteen, she gave him his laptop with all those exciting programmes installed. "Don’t tell Annabeth you got this," she had warned him with a wink, "She can get so competitive".
He wonders if he should have be more confused about the idea of having two mothers. But his dad had explained the whole situation to him when he was younger and rather than being upset, he thought it was pretty darn cool.
"How are things going?" Athena asks, kissing him on the cheek as she passes him a new hard drive.
"Good," Stiles says, as he digs into his tagliatelle.
"That's not what your father said," Athena remarks archly, and Stiles groans.
"Is he still going on about me and Scott being at the Hale house?"
"He just wants you to be careful."
"I know, I know," Stiles acknowledges and then frowns. "Maybe you should tell him to be careful about his cholesterol instead."
"Don't change the subject, Stiles. It won't do to rile a son of Ares," Athena reminds him.
"Derek Hale can't do anything to me from prison," Stiles mutters rebelliously.
"Yes, and when he gets out?"
Stiles stares at Athena, dumbstruck. "Okay, I confess not to have planned things that far."
"Plan harder," Athena advises him. "Think, remember what I taught you."
"Yes, Mom."
Athena takes pity on him. "Now I've gotten that out of the way, let's talk about where you want to go today. Museums? Universities?"
"Wait, so you didn't really mean to nag me about Derek Hale?"
Athena twitches in her seat. "I did promise your dad I'd talk to you about it."
"Mom..."
"Besides," Athena continues, "As if I'd let Derek Hale hurt you."
Stiles protests loudly, using the back of his hand to wipe off the chocolate shake from his mouth sloppily. "I can take care of myself, Mom."
"Still. Tell me if Derek Hale pulls any stunts," Athena says, a dangerous glint in her eyes, "Let's see how Ares will fight his wars without me around to stop him from mucking things up."
"So. Umm," Grover begins, hesitant. "We're sort of doing this census of all the satyrs in active service."
Dr Deaton looks serenely at his visitor.
Grover tugs on his cap and whispers loudly. "Percy, you gotta help me here!"
Percy stares back at his friend. "What? Dude, this is Council business! I can't help you."
"But Percy," Grover moans, and he picks up a can of Dr. Pepper from Dr Deaton's desk and starts chewing on the edges. "Dr Deaton here's a legend! Beacon Hills has one of the highest concentration of demigods in the country, and almost none of them die under his watch."
"Grover. You're a Lord of the Wild now. I don't know, doesn't that make you his boss or something?"
"I don't know! Does it?"
"You're a legend too, Mr Underwood," Dr Deaton finally speaks. "The youngest Lord of the Wild in millennia and a member of the Council of the Cloven Elders. You've done more in your youth than what most satyrs achieve over a lifetime."
"Oh. Wow." Grover replies, awed, before turning back to grab Percy's jacket sleeve. "Percy! He's heard of me!"
"Grover, Grover," Percy says, prying Grover's fingers off his arm. "Relax. You're here to talk to him. So why don't you?"
Grover turns back to Dr Deaton and coughs self-consciously. "Well, I guess we could catch up on the status of the demigods here."
Dr Deaton chuckles. It's a warm and comforting sound. "Which one do you want to start with?"
Grover casts around wildly for a reply.
"Hey, it's your job, man," Percy deflects quickly. "Don't look at me."
"What about the Hales?" Dr Deaton offers, solving the problem for him.
Grover wipes his hands on his jeans. "Yeah. Sounds like a good place to start."
Hermes watches as a teenaged boy attempts repeated shots at the makeshift goal he's set up at the back of his yard. The boy is breathing heavily from his exertions, a slow simmering rage burning in his eyes as he makes shot after shot.
"You're a very angry person, Jackson," Hermes says casually, hand tucked into the pockets of his suit.
"Who are you?" Jackson holds his lacrosse stick in front of him in a defensive pose.
"Relax, kid," Hermes lets his disguise drop just a little bit, the caduceus extending in his arms before resuming his usual appearance.
"Hermes," Jackson says dully.
Hermes pauses to think, before responding. "Interesting. You recognised my Greek aspect first."
"So?"
"That might be significant."
"Significant what?"
"We can assume you're Greek rather than Roman, at least."
"What the-- What the fuck do you want?" Jackson roars, the old hurt boiling to the surface at the mention of his heritage. "What do you know about me?"
"I should be asking that question, I think," Hermes counters. "Though, I have to say, it's pretty obvious."
"Why are you here then? Are you my father?" Jackson asks bluntly.
"Oh no, no." Hermes denies immediately. "I claim all my children now. I'll never hear the end of it from Poseidon or Percy if I don't. Besides," his eyes soften a little, "I made a promise to somebody before."
"We've even installed an app for that," Jackson hears a voice say. "Helps him keep track of all his children, it does. Very useful. We're thinking of putting it up for sale for the other gods to use."
"George. Martha, shut up. I'm talking to the kid." Hermes chides his snakes. "Anyway, back to you, Jackson."
"I just," Jackson says, spreading his arms wide, "I just want to know who my father is. Is that too much to ask for?"
Hermes grimaces. "Kid, sometimes when it comes to the gods, that can be a tall order. There was that circular Father sent out after the First Great Prophecy, but you know, the gods don't always pay attention to those things."
"What do you mean they don't pay attention?"
"I can't answer for him. I don't know. But sometimes we forget."
"Forget?" Jackson spits out the words, furious. "Forget? How could you forget about your own child?"
Hermes scratches his head. "Well, gods can get pretty busy handling stuff."
"But not too busy to seduce women and have children with them," Jackson rails. "Do you know what my mother did? She gave me up after my father dumped her!"
"We gods and goddesses are charged with a far bigger domain than what you mortals and demigods could ever imagine." Hermes admonishes Jackson, tone growing sharp. "Don't comment on things you don't understand."
Jackson ignores Hermes' words, glaring sullenly at the ground as he wallows in his misery.
"Look, if you ever make it to New York, there will always be room in my cabin for you," Hermes promises Jackson. "Sometimes, you get claimed there instead. Look how well things turned out for Percy Jackson and Piper McLean."
"I'll go only when I know who my father is," Jackson replies, turning down the invitation immediately. "Not before."
Hermes gives up, recognising a lost cause when he sees one. "Very well. Suit yourself. But just to warn you kid, don't get your hopes up."
It ends (somewhat) in another fire.
Ares watches impassively as his son tears out the throat of his own uncle with his own hands, bathing himself in a shower of blood.
"Are you satisfied now?" Bacchus asks, bitterness lacing his every word.
"I never sought revenge on your son, Bacchus," Ares replies. "He couldn't help what he became. I think we both should be more pleased about Kate Argent's fate, don't you think?"
"You're right. At least we got that vicious child out of the way. On that, we can agree."
"Eris will pay for this debacle," Ares swears. "I will make sure of it."
Bacchus turns to his older brother. "I want to be there when you give it to her."
Ares curls his lips, feeling the bloodlust rise in his veins. "I'll let you have ringside seats when I do. But not so quickly, though. Father will have my hide if I start a new war so soon."
Bacchus steps back, satisfied with Ares' assurances. "I can wait."
"Fine. Come, let's go. There's nothing else we can do here for our children."
They leave just as Derek Hale, son of Ares, declares himself the new Alpha of the Beacon Hills pack.
"Congratulations," Athena tells Sheriff Stilinski. "I knew you'd solve the case."
"Thank you," he replies, waving his hand over the files scattered over his table. "It feels good, getting all that nasty stuff sorted out. Kate Argent, huh? This is totally unprofessional of me, but I'm glad she's dead."
"The children of Eris are known to gamble with high stakes. She knew what she was getting into when she started this. No need to feel sorry for her."
"I know. All those people she murdered. And then, Peter Hale," Sheriff Stilinski muses almost to himself. "Lydia Martin's still in hospital," he goes on. "The poor girl, such a pity she got herself mixed up in this mess."
Athena coughs delicately.
"What?"
"About Lydia Martin..." she begins. "There's something I need to tell you."
"You're not going to do anything, are you?" Nico asks Tisiphone.
"Do what, Mr di Angelo?"
"About Derek Hale."
"Technically, he has violated the code."
"But there are exemption clauses."
"There are no exemption clauses, Mr di Angelo. Your father and I made sure of that."
"Not even for me?" Nico asks, putting his best kicked-puppy expression on. "Derek was just defending his sister."
Tisiphone glares at Nico. "Well, if the correct paperwork is never filed on the Hale case..."
"I'll take care of it myself," Nico promises, then he chuckles gleefully. "Did you just agree to a case of willful negligence?"
"I most certainly did not."
"Don't worry, I won't tell if you won't tell."
"Mr di Angelo, kindly refrain from those childish turns of phrase, it doesn't become you."
"Aww, but you like it," Nico teases.
"You are the only son of my employer after all."
"And let's face it, dealing with me is better than that day job you have."
"There is that."
"I'm definitely easier to handle than that son of Mercury. The one you keep complaining about - the one in Los Angeles."
Tisiphone wrinkles her nose in disapproval. "That particular son of Mercury is unfortunately aided and abetted by a son of Vulcan and a descendant of Amazons. Fortunately, there is a son of Mars to balance out his more impetuous tendencies."
"That's just a long-winded way of saying I'm still your favourite, right?"
"Mr di Angelo, please."
"I knew it!" Nico whoops with joy and Tisiphone allows herself a small smile.
Sheriff Stilinski stares at Athena, jaw agape. "You're not joking are you?"
"I never joke."
"But, Stiles," Sheriff Stilinski splutters in an undignified fashion. "And that silly crush of his, even though he thinks I don't know."
"Demigod siblings recognise each other, even on a subconscious level. That's probably why he's drawn to her."
"Well, that explains his obsession then," Sheriff Stilinski exhales loudly. "But really. Mr Martin?"
"Her father is a brilliant corporate lawyer," Athena says primly. "And I am also the goddess of commerce in my other aspect."
Sheriff Stilinski laughs. "It's just that, well, I guess I never thought I'd have a stepdaughter of sorts."
"You don't mind do you?"
"Why should I mind? It's none of my business at all. Besides," Sheriff Stilinski gazes at Athena fondly. "You gave me and my wife Stiles. That's the most important thing, insofar as I am concerned."
Athena stands up to go. "I knew you'd understand. That's what so unique about you. You're so open to learning new things."
"That's very flattering indeed, coming from the goddess of wisdom herself. But where are you going now?"
Athena tucks her hair behind her ear. "Off to have a mother-and-son talk with Stiles."
Sheriff Stilinski guffaws. "Oh, good luck with that. Tell me how he takes the news."
"They don't realise it, do they?" Harmonia asks her son, as they take a walk along the park together. The passers-by pay them no heed, seeing them as just another mother and son taking a stroll amongst the flowers and trees, enjoying the cool weather in fall.
"No, they don't," Danny replies. "I don't think any of them realise who I am, actually."
"Are you all right with that? I could raise it up with Zeus, you know," she says, suddenly concerned. "You deserve more credit than that."
Danny makes a face. "Nah, it's too much of a bother. Besides, I don't want to upset Jackson."
"His father still hasn't claimed him?" Harmonia asks, sympathetic.
"Nope," Danny's shoulders sag in the knowledge that the older Jackson got, the more likely it is that he'll never find out the identity of his godly parent. "I wish I could help him more."
Harmonia puts an arm around Danny's waist and hugs him. "You can't do everything, Danny. That's not our role."
"I know."
"Now with Derek Hale as the new Alpha, you’re going to be needed more than ever."
Danny snickers. "Yeah, I can just see the fights Scott and Jackson are going to get into."
"Don’t take sides, Danny," Harmonia reminds her son.
"Of course not. But Scott’s got Stiles. Somebody’s got to watch out for Jackson."
"Fair enough," Harmonia chuckles. "You’re there to keep the peace after all."
"You're not kidding me, right?" Stiles asks Athena. He leans forward, putting his face into his hands. "This is so freaky! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"There was no need to. I had no intention of stepping in, until your dad told me about," Athena hedges a little, "Certain developments."
Stiles scowls. "Gross. Now I know how Luke Skywalker feels like."
"Hush now, Stiles, surely you're exaggerating," Athena rebukes her son.
"Well, it sure feels like it!"
"If it helps you any, I rather think Jackson Whittemore will not be her Han Solo," Athena says cheerfully, looking rather unrepentant for a mother who might have just mentally scarred her son for life.
"Gee, that's sure to be helpful," Stiles makes a face. "But why didn't Lydia know?"
"Because unlike your father, Mr Martin made it quite clear he didn't want me to be part of Lydia's life. I stayed away out of respect for him. But considering what a hash he's made of things, and how she's managed to get herself tangled in the Hale family business, I'm going to make a unilateral revision of those arrangements."
"This is going to be so awkward when she wakes up and finds out about you," Stiles complains.
"You'll cope. Be kind to your sister, Stiles," she instructs him. "She's going to need your help adjusting to things."
"I kind of think it should be the other way around, actually," Stiles mumbles to himself as he tucks the blankets around Lydia carefully. "She's the one who's always mean to me."
Athena doesn't deign to reply, only placing a kiss on Stiles' forehead before she goes. "Don't lie. You're happy you found out. You've always wanted a sibling, after all. And take care. We'll talk more when Lydia's better."
Stiles nods, not paying attention to Athena’s words. Suddenly, he jerks up from where he’s staring at the monitors surrounding Lydia, one more question on his mind. "Wait. Mom, Mom, if I’m Luke Skywalker, does that make Dad Darth Vader?"
"What are we doing here?" Ares asks Aphrodite, as they walk into a diner dressed as a young yuppie couple. "I thought this wasn't your scene."
"Usually not, no. But I’ve been informed about some recent developments," Aphrodite tells him, nudging him. "Look."
Ares turns to follow Aphrodite's gaze to a table in the corner of the diner, where his son and Stiles Stilinski are seated; fries, burgers and shakes spread between the two of them. Stiles' laptop is open next to the food. They're not talking much, but Ares notices how Derek waits patiently as Stiles makes inroads into the food, whilst he himself sips on a yoghurt shake.
"Do you want to know what they're talking about?" Aphrodite whispers into his ear.
"What?"
"Stiles has managed to do what nobody else has been able to - persuade your son to take down that house of his, and build a new one elsewhere. Apparently, Nico di Angelo's going to help with the demolition."
"High time he got rid of that mess," Ares grunts. "But is this genuine? This whole thing?" he makes vague movements with his hands to encompass Stiles and Derek.
"Very," Aphrodite informs him, smiling in an approving fashion as she reaches out to hold Ares’ hand. "It's the real deal. I promise you, I had nothing to do with it."
Ares swears creatively. "A child of Athena?" he grouses. "She'll be unbearable to deal with during our meetings on Olympus once she finds out."
Aphrodite laughs. "Well, a warrior can't do without a strategist," she reminds him. "The boy’s one of her brightest yet. And you have to admit, he's less irritating than that Annabeth girl."
"Huh. That is true," Ares concurs, still not taking his eyes off Derek.
"Do you approve?"
"Well, a brat of Athena's wouldn't have been my choice for him. But the kid deserves to be happy."
Aphrodite leans her head against Ares' shoulder, pleased with his reply.
"They'll be good for each other. Your son doesn't quite know it yet though, but he's getting there."
"And you'd know this to be true of course," Ares remarks, voice dripping with irony.
"Oh definitely!" Aphrodite replies, smug in her knowledge. "I am the goddess of love after all."
Ares chugs down his beer. "Anyway, if that Stiles kid upsets my son, I can always cut his balls off."
"So what do you think of my plans?" Stiles asks Derek, mouth still full with curly fries.
"Sounds good," Derek agrees genially.
"You sure?" Stiles asks, looking uncertain, fingers splayed across the laptop keyboard. "Because I can still switch some of the things around..."
"Stiles," Derek hastens to assure him. "I'm cool with it. Just go right on ahead."
Stiles' eyes brighten with joy and he bounces enthusiastically in his seat. "Awesome! I'll get Scott and Jackson on it ASAP. Nico and Percy said they'd help too and Percy said he'd ask Annabeth to check my stuff too, if she has the time. Also, Grover said something about persuading some dryads and nymphs to come move to your property. Make it brighter and stuff, you know. I hope you like flowers."
"Laura loved flowers," Derek offers suddenly. "Flowers would be great, actually."
"Really?" That was the first time Derek had mentioned his sister in their conversations.
"Stop worrying Stiles, and just get on with it. I don't mind."
"That's good," Stiles bites on his lip, staring at his laptop screen again. "Would you," he starts then stops. "Would you like me to do something for her?" he shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. "A garden or something?"
Derek inhales deeply and looks Stiles in the eye, feeling his throat constrict at the thought of his sister. "Yes. That would be nice. Something to remember her by."
Stiles nods, frowning as he goes back to his laptop, mind whirling with a dozen new ideas. He starts in surprise when Derek comes round from his side of the table to sit next to him, one arm stretched out over the back of the diner seat over his shoulders, the tips of his fingers trailing over Stiles' bicep.
"We should plan this together, actually," Derek says, voice deliberately casual. "Since she was my sister. Would you be okay with that?"
Stiles works his jaw soundlessly before he finally gathers his wits to reply. "Yeah," he feels himself flush when he hears his voice come out as a high-pitched shriek, and he tries again. "Yeah, we could totally plan this together."
end
Author's note:
- Word of the day: Handwave. Handwave. Handwave. For both Percy Jackson and Teen Wolf timelines and canon.
- Tisiphone is Hetty Lange. Bonus points for those who caught the NCIS: Los Angeles reference.
- Yes, I know Apollo states quite clearly that his chariot travels only from East to West. There's a return trip involved, OK?
- There's a lot of Greek Mythology dream casts going on, which I am a huge fan of. I'm easily pleased, but Hades will always be Michael Fassbender to me. And Apollo's a fan of Florida State Uni because he's Bradley James and Katie McGrath is Artemis. I haven't found space for Colin Morgan and Angel Coulby yet, alas :(