Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

His brother wasn’t here to see it, at Triton’s side and tending to his sleeping son who was thankfully far from fading. There was still no word from Hermes, but there had been mention of a boy who’d looked exactly like his son that had confused both Ares, Dionysus, and Apollo. The possible son of Poseidon and daughter of Athena had his daughter eager for a search, but the awe of these new arrivals enveloped them quickly.

In the hearth room, Apollo was preening excitedly as he showed off the young boy tucked in his arm. The mortal hadn’t been alone, accompanied by a young girl whom Demeter had spilled shimmering tears at first glance.

She had refused to let the young girl out of her sight, content to let her frolic in her domains.

Her attachment was understandable; Kore had devastated her due to how close she was to surviving, and the mortals had undergone months of dry crops as a result. It was safe to assume that Demeter’s child wouldn’t be introduced for a few days until the goddess smothered her as much as she saw fit.

The young Meg had taken a liking to Pan, reaching for his horns with giggles. Zeus’ little niece only deserved best, so the forest god had bowed his head before following Demeter.

The rest of the gods were hovering over the boy, whom Apollo wanted to name Asclepius. Dionysus held Jason in his arms, seeing as the little prince had found his prior time in his brother’s arms very enjoyable.

Yet, something in Zeus constricted as he clearly saw more of the young one. He knew this feeling. He had felt this only moments before.

Zeus was sensing that same pull he had towards Jason. It knawed at his heart, telling him to see. To look. Too hold. 

“Son.” He started, interrupting the chatter. The other Olympians paused at his sudden exclamation, and his son finally lifted his gaze. Zeus followed the instinctual tug, before he was gazing down at the boy; he wanted to cup his face gently as he did Jason’s, touch that soft curly hair. “If he has your eyes, then he also has mine.”

“...Huh.” Apollo blinked slowly.

Out of all Zeus's surviving children, Apollo and Artemis–though she preferred having them a mix of grey–had gained those electric blue eyes.

They all take in Zeus's words for a moment.

Hestia asked the question they’d all been thinking. “Then is he Zeus’s or Apollo’s?”

...

Apollo opened his eyes to the sound of his family arguing.

Typical, he thought, before he furrowed his brows. Was he reinstated into Godhood so easily? His swimming vision began to unblur at the familiar voices falling over each other.

The memories from the day before hit him like a sledgehammer. The impact would be less than the sheer amount of confusion.

He'd awoken in Ancient Greece, somehow younger, and they had gotten chased by a drakon before he screamed at it. It didn't sound very heroic like that, but it absolutely was! After all, nobody ever mentioned the embarrassing moments of Hercules, his jerk of a half-brother.

He was getting off track! What had happened next…

Now, Apollo may not be accustomed to time travel, but he knew the basic rules of it. It was one of Zeus's dislikes, the result of Kronos gaining some power over the domain thanks to being mistaken with Chronos so many times.

He had been faced with an alternate version of himself, and–

Only then does Apollo register that he's being held by someone. They're holding him with one arm, and a strand of their hair is on Apollo's forehead.

It's golden.

If he looked up, Apollo had the feeling he'd see himself staring back. Well, not himself due to being Lester, but the point was there. Blast this mortal form!

If there was another Apollo, then there was bound to be more…

Oh skies.

The arguing.

Apollo tilted his head slightly from where it was buried against a white robe, and his mouth almost fell open. Scratch that. It definitely did.

Spaced around in this room that he recognized as a hearth, were nine godly presences minus himself-not-himself.

Yes, that was his oh-so beloved family, all right. Or close to, at least. Familiar and not familiar faces, somehow at the same time. More animalistic, with horns and tails and all sorts of beastly parts that his own family no longer used so often since Ancient Greece. He could tell who was who, at the least. He would call himself a bad brother and nephew if he didn’t.

About everyone was here, minus Aphrodite, Demeter, Hermes, and Poseidon.

Oh good. Just what Apollo needed, a family gathering. Usually the ones in present time would result in petty insults, then arguments, and lastly deciding to point the finger at Apollo.

Like always.

There were some new additions, though. And two of them were not gods at that. Curled on Ares and Hade's laps were two children deep in sleep. The girl was no doubt his brother's child, and yet, there was something almost…familiar about her. The boy, however, even more so. Dark fluffy hair, and a quite stylish aviator jacket that even Aphrodite would find perfect.

A glimpse of his sun chariot, and an eager boy holding mythomagic cards popped into his mind. 

Before he could think about it any further, he's brought to attention by the multiple voices overlapping.

They were arguing about–

“–his hair is much more similar to Zeus's.”

“But his essence is so much like Apollo's?”

“Are you sure his eye color was blue? Perhaps we should wait until he is conscious.”

Oh no.

They were talking about him. Usually he would love being the center of attention! The appeal was taken away when it wasn't in front of mortals, but his family? That attention never turned out well.

The more he listened, the more he turned incredulous. He hadn't felt like this since Leo had told him of a Magic 8 Ball. If Apollo was getting the gist of it, they thought he was a child of, well, Apollo.

Apollo would have to explain this whole conundrum. Perhaps if he explained the situation, they would aid in sending him back to complete his quest. And give him back Meg. After all, they'd been found together. Given Demeter's absence, he could only pray it had to do with tending to her daughter.

He cleared his throat, managing to squeak out. “Excuse me!”

The chatter was gone in the blink of an eye, all the while Apollo tried not to regret his decision.

The arms holding him lifted, like the sun-god wanted to bare him whole. Those very similar blue eyes seemed to sparkle. “You're finally awake, Little Light!”

That nickname again. Apollo wouldn't stand for it, being talked down like a child! He was technically older than this Apollo! By at least three millenniums.

He stumbled out of his other self’s hold, balancing on his feet in order not to face-plant. The other had let him out of surprise, obviously not expecting a young mortal to want to escape his grasp so quickly. 

Apollo tried to muster the most confidence he could manage as the attention was quickly turned towards him in the middle of the heath room.

He planted his hands on his hips, raising his chin. “I am Apollo.”

It took everything in him not to squirm when being stared at, all heads swiveled towards him.

“Are you sure you healed him thoroughly?” Apollo wasn't surprised when Hera spoke, despite looking very different with those admittedly gorgeous peacock feathers. “We must’ve missed a sign of a head injury.”

Hah! Hera was already trying to gaslight him and pretend to care for his wellbeing. The very trait of an evil stepmother. Apollo could relate to poor Cinderella quite a lot.

“He’s telling the truth.” Apollo eyes were wide, his confirmation sending abrupt murmurs.

Was that really what Apollo’s face looked like when surprised? Him Apollo. Not other Apollo. Skies, this was getting confusing. Apollo would resort to calling the other Apollo, Phoebus in his head.

Athena responded immediately, as she always did when represented with an unknown equation. “That is impossible!”

“As impossible as you having a kid?” Ares raised an eyebrow, and Athena’s mouth snapped shut. No doubt going over the possibilities.

Knowledge was her thing, after all.

Once, Apollo had waited outside her temple for fifty-years while she developed the idea of the pythagorean theorem. Also, had Erechtheus not been born from her crops yet?

“The counterparts our children speak of,” Hades rumbled. It’d been a while since he’d seen his uncle with animal characteristics, so the swishing black tail caught him off guard. His uncle also barely talked at all, what mortals call a hermit. “I believed they’d been imposters, but the evidence is in front of our eyes.”

Apollo was being scrutinized again. The weight of ten sets of eyes on his mortal body had him unconsciously curling in on himself.

He couldn’t tell what they were thinking. Even now, he still liked to believe had enough knowledge to read his family. This was only the past…right? Hermes had mentioned traveling across parallel worlds briefly a few centuries ago before deciding he was tampering with lines that even gods shouldn’t cross. Nonetheless, this wasn’t his family.

Hephaestus was looking at him like he was a machine he wanted to fix. Or pick apart. Apollo could only hope that his interest wouldn’t go any further. “If you are Apollo as you say, then why are you mortal?”

Apollo opened his mouth, then closed it. Would he have to speak about his humiliation yet again? He hadn’t been this put on the spot since his dance off with Michael Jackson.

He considered his options; lie to save face or don’t lie.

Unfortunately, the latter was the only answer he could think of. Lying to one god was something, lying to ten might’ve been death no matter another version of his family. His only relief was whether it was a past version or another entirely, this Apollo would understand his humiliation and take pity on him!

“Yes, that.” Apollo said, before more questions could arise from Hephaestus's exclamation. “Father decided to punish me, so he cast me down from Olympus.”

He was not expecting the horrified looks spreading across the ten gods at his words. Especially from Phoebus, who’d looked like he’d grown two heads. Has this Apollo not experienced Zeus's wrath yet? Apollo pitied him. He had been the same at the start, until Zeus proved him otherwise. Apollo had gotten his hopes up twice, first with Zeus, second with Jupiter.

“He what?” Ares burst out. At least his loud tone never changed.

“Are you certain?” Asked his sister–er, his not-sister? She was younger than his godly form at this point compared to his Artemis, but older than Lester could ever be. He felt a sense of longing when he looked at her, though the wolf-ears were new. Apollo had almost forgotten his Artemis's face.

“Oh, yes, I’m certain. He was sure it was my fault, after all.” He schooled his scowl into something expressionless, not wanting to anger this version of Zeus. “My divinity will only be obtained until I fight Python again in this form.”

The name Python elicited another round of concerned reactions, for some reason. Phoebus had paled considerably at the reminder of his foe, and Artemis along with Zeus had to help steady him. Apollo almost frowned when Phoebus leaned into Zeus's oddly comforting touch the god was giving him. Why was Zeus being so reassuring to Phoebus? To use that moment of weakness to manipulate him later? 

His father was ever the schemer! He was once again reminded of where Hermes had gotten it from.

“My counterpart is forcing you to fight against the monster that nearly killed you?” Zeus hissed as his attention focused on Apollo after Phoebus regained his bearings, the venom on par with Python’s. Why this Zeus was angry was beyond Apollo. Was he perhaps jealous he hadn’t thought of doing this to Phoebus before? It was a masterful plan, he had to admit.

Hades's voice sounded like a growl, his animal ears pinned down against his head. “Without your Godhood, you have little to no chance of survival.”

Ah yes, very helpful Uncle. He may have been the Lord of the Dead, but there was no need to remind him of his impending doom.

“I suppose that's the point.” Apollo mumbled, staring at his feet. He hadn't wanted to think about it, his only chance to live was having another burst of divine energy. Well, he'll save it for future Apollo to worry about.

When he looked up, he saw the gods somehow locked in a ten-way staring contest.

Hephaestus's fingers almost dug into the table enough to break it, and Hestia's mouth had thinned into a line. Were they conversing with each other in their heads?

How Apollo missed that ability!

It was probably not to awake the two sleeping children. Being on the other end was quite awkward, like being excluded from a group chat. In fact, that had been one of the reasons for One Direction's split. He tried not to look like he wanted to hide into a hole at the looks of fury on their faces as they made gestures towards each other.

Were they…were they ashamed of his situation? Embarrassed? Deciphering whether to kick this useless version of their son off of Olympus?

He suddenly felt very much sympathy for the demigods who'd waited whenever they'd gotten into silent arguments. Finally, the mental torture ended when Phoebus and Artemis's gazes broke apart.

“Little brother.” Artemis spoke first, softly. There was something in her eyes that wasn't there before, but Apollo couldn't place it.

“Um. That's me.” He said unintelligibly, regaining a bit of confidence when faced with a lookalike of one of the only beings he trusted. “Well, now that you've come to a conclusion, I don't suppose there's a way you can send me back to my time? With my companions, of course. I'll be out of your hair!”

He emphasized on the out of your hair part. They were probably quick to be rid of him, after all. Before he could add on, his counterpart was abruptly in front of him. Apollo wrinkled his nose, the feathers briefly tickling his nose before Phoebus's wings folded in.

“Don't be silly.” That same look in Artemis was now on Phoebus. Glancing around, it wasn’t only on the two. Hephaestus, Ares, Athena...he continued to see it on everyone, minus the sleeping children. Apollo was starting to get goosebumps. “You've just arrived, it would be a shame for you to leave so quickly.”

What?

Phoebus placed a hand over Apollo’s forehead faster than he could protest, sharp black claws careful not to hurt him. A burst of warmth spread throughout him as Phoebus's palm touched skin, as familiar as an old-friend. He hadn’t realized how cold he was before this, the tenseness of his limbs leaving him.

It took him a moment to put the action into place; this was something that he usually did for his children, Asclepius had been the first.

Apollo squinted up at Phoebus suspiciously. “Are you trying to put me to sleep…?”

“You're still drained from that burst of divine energy.” The man purred in response to his question. “As a version of myself, you understand my worry; don't you, Apollo?”

“Lester.” He mumbled, blinking rapidly to try and keep his eyelids from closing. “Just call m’ Lester.”

He almost tumbled backwards to the floor once again, if it weren't for Zeus behind him. Never thought he'd say…think that?

Apollo flinched slightly as Zeus's large hands landed on his shoulders, memories of fingers digging into that area beginning to disrupt the comfort. His father-not-father’s grip immediately softened, moving to wrap his arm around his back before an arm was being tucked underneath his legs.

Luckily like this and mind beginning to slip, Apollo was not able to see the shared tightening of expressions across the gods; the dark look in Zeus's eyes that promised wrath at the implication of his flinch.

Apollo tilted his head.

Something about it felt…familiar. Homely. The answer struck him as he subconsciously began to relax.

This was similar to how Leto used to hold him.

Was this really Zeus carrying him so gently? Was the king replaced by a fake? But no one was arguing, or trying to kill the god. Perhaps this was a version of Jupiter? Only Jupiter would act so kind. He didn’t rely on the thrum of lightning and bruising grip like Zeus, his words were enough.

Before he could go over the impossibility of it, the sound of footsteps filled the room until the wine-god was standing in front of him. Much different from that pudgy deadbeat father form that his Dionysus took at camp. Apollo hadn’t realized there was something in Dionysus's arms, and dear Skies, it was squirming–

Tiny arms reach out. Apollo stared. Dionysus looked amused. “He’s been calling for you. I hadn't realized until you said your name."

The baby swaddled in purple silk was being handed to him, but luckily he had enough experience with holding Meg's–albeit larger–form.

He knew this baby. It's a realization that's easy to make despite the drowsiness.

Tufts of blonde hair, and eyes the same color as his. Which were to say, Zeus's. Now, at least, Apollo knew where one of his companions had gone.

“Jason?” He asked stupidly, staring down at the baby tucked against his chest. If he thought Meg had the short end of the stick, Jason was another thing entirely.

“Les!” Jason chirped in response. With the panic thoroughly drained out of Apollo from Phoebus's touch, he couldn’t bring himself to feel horrified.

Jason. Baby. Jaybaby. Jayby?

"How precious." His not-stepmother cooed, hovering over the two in her husband's arms.

He'd never seen Hera look at him so...soft before. Jason was her favorite, after all, in every universe it seemed. Why she was looking at Apollo as well was a mystery. 

Jason was quite precious, one of the only half-siblings he really felt connected to.

He hadn’t been able to see his half-brother so young before, accustomed to the teenager who had grown up far too fast as the result of Juno's schemes and Lupa's training. He regretted that he wasn't able to take pictures. As an older brother's duty, he could've embarrassed Jason with baby pictures to Piper and Meg.

Wait. Meg. That was important. Very important.

“Meg.” He murmured, lifting his head. “Where?”

“Worry not.” Artemis shushed. “She is safe with Demeter.”

The moon goddess pressed a kiss to his forehead, the same way his own Artemis used to do when they were children to put him to sleep. And just as it did when he was godling, the shadows began to melt into each other as sound grew distant.

Good. Meg was safe. All that mattered.

“Mm.” Apollo mumbled, his head lolling against Zeus's chest. Jason giggled in his arms, as their father's eagle wings folded over them. “Then..sleep now? Leave later?”

Phoebus answered him with a chuckle. "Yes, you must rest, Little Light."

That was himself saying it, wasn't it? And he was always right. Sleep did sound very nice. The heat and warmth from being surrounded by members of his family was nice, like a cozy blanket. He sunk against his father as he clutched Jason, the world slipping away from him.

With sleep welcoming him, Apollo doesn't realize that nobody had answered his last question. 

...

'IT SEEMETH WE ARE LIKE TO ABIDE HERE FOR A WHILE.' The Arrow of Dodona thought miserably.

The possessiveness emanating from the ten gods in the room had it quivering slightly from where it was tied against the side of Lester's boot. The way they were talking about Lester with such eagerness, practically radiating the words mine, mine, mine, was alarming. It shuddered again.

What had its foolish owner gotten into now? The Arrow of Dodona was an arrow of many skills; it knew twelve ways to kill a chimera to answering the daily wordle on the first try. 

What it didn't know...was how long these gods were going to keep them here.