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Why Are Seers Always Cursed? (1)

Wesley Weston is a son of Apollo with the rare gift of prophecy.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day three: Percy Jackson | Lake

Takes place shortly before Luke, Annabeth, and Thalia's arrival at Camp Half-Blood and while Wes is in middle school, so before the primary canon events of both series.

You can also read it on AO3

Chapter 1: Family Troubles

Next Chapter

[Warnings for implied/referenced infidelity]

Wes couldn't remember a time when his parents didn't have marital troubles. His eldest brother, Easton, claimed that their parents had been completely happy together once. Even though their mom's work as a flight attendant meant she wasn't home much, they were still happy and in love. Dad was holding down a job back then, and Easton had just started school. Kyle couldn't actually remember it, but he claimed to, nevertheless.

Then Mom came home pregnant with Wes, and everything changed.

They tried to salvage their relationship, keep the family together, but in the end, rather than staying together despite Mom's job, they only managed to stay together because she was away so often.

To his credit, Dad never took it out on Wes.

It wasn't until Wes was eight that he even knew Walter Weston wasn't his biological father. Kyle had let it slip when he was mad at Wes for winning eight games in a row of Guess Who.

He'd gotten angry and shouted, "I don't have to take this! You're not even my real brother!"

After the initial mess was sorted out, Walter took Wes aside and explained that he was his brother's half-sibling, that they had the same mother, but that Wes had a different father. He'd made sure to emphasize that he was still Wes' father, too, and that it didn't mean he loved Wes any less. And Wes had just nodded.

Everyone seemed surprised by how well he'd taken it, but subconsciously, Wes felt like he had always known.

Things settled down after a while. As Wes got older, as he learned more, he finally started to understand the real reason for the tension between his parents whenever his mother came home. Dad had forgiven her for cheating, but she'd still broken his trust, and no matter what happened, he couldn't help but wonder if she'd been unfaithful again while she was away.

Sometimes, Dad would get drunk, at a New Year's party or something, and he would get all sad and cry about losing the love of his life. Wes would help him to bed, and he would cry about how good a kid Wes was, and how he wished Wes really was his kid and it wasn't fair. And he would cry about Easton being so good in school and about Kyle having so many friends.

It was embarrassing, but there were worse things for a drunk guy to be than sad and sentimental. At least he didn't get that drunk very often.

It wasn't until Wes was ten that he finally worked up the courage to ask his mom about his real—his biological father.

As long as he could remember, when his mother came home, she would sleep in the guest room. So one night after she finished her nighttime routine, he went in to ask her in private. Her face was covered in a pale green mask, and her hair was tucked up in a ring of curlers around her neck to preserve the shape.

"Wes," she noted when he came in, closing the door silently behind him like he thought he would get in trouble. "Hey, hon, what brings you here?" she asked. "You can't have had a bad dream already, you haven't even gone to bed yet."

"No, I... I wanted to ask you something," Wes told her. "I didn't want to do it earlier because I thought it might upset Dad."

"I see," she said.

Wes could tell already that she knew what he was going to ask, but she was waiting for him to say it.

"What... I mean... who.... Who's my real dad?" Wes finally got out. "Will you tell me about him?"

"I knew you were gonna ask someday," she said, a sad expression falling over her face.

"Will you tell me about him?" Wes implored. "Please?"

She sat on her bed and Wes sat down next to her.

"He told me his name was Apollo," she said. "But he was a musician, so that might've been a stage name. I never did get a last name from him. When we met, he said he saw me crossing the sky, following the path of the sun, that he'd seen it almost every day, and that I'd caught his eye.

"I still don't quite know what he meant by that. At the time, I thought he was clumsily trying to compare me to an angel, but I'm not so sure now. What I do know is from that moment on, I felt like I was under a spell, completely charmed by him.

"We met a few times. I didn't mean for them to be dates, but he clearly thought they were. He would sing for me, and write me poetry, which would sometimes be good and sometimes not so much. His haiku was especially bad. Then one night... well, one thing led to another, and you were born. I never saw him again after that, so clearly he was only after one thing and once he got it he was done with me."

"Sounds like a jerk," Wes said with a scowl.

"I didn't think so then, but hindsight is 20/20," Mom replied with a nod. "In any case, my little foray with him wasn't worth the damage it did to my marriage. I regret everything about those meetings with Apollo."

She looked down at Wes, all tense and nervous in his Transformers pajamas, and wrapped an arm around him to squeeze him into her side. "Everything but you. You were the only good thing to come out of it."

"Is it okay if Dad can be my dad instead of that guy?" Wes asked. "I don't want him to be my dad."

"It's more than okay," she said.

From then on, Wes' biological dad never got brought up. When Kyle got mad at him, he would sometimes, petulantly, refer to Wes as his half-brother, but never aside from that. Slowly, their parents finally started to truly patch up their relationship.

Then, one day, a few weeks before Wes' thirteenth birthday, he had a dream.

He dreamed that he was laying on his back in a field, soaking up the sunlight, and then the sun came closer and closer, and slowly, the sun turned into a man with golden blond hair, and tan skin, and a guitar on his back, and he knelt down next to Wes and kissed him on the forehead.

"Tell your mom I'll see her soon," he said.

Wes always woke up with the sunrise, but that morning, he awoke in a cold sweat. He waited until he could find a chance to call his mom without anyone overhearing and hoped to God that she wasn't in the air. He was pretty sure her flight had landed by the time he called.

"Hi, Wes, what's up?" she asked when she picked up. She sounded confused.

He couldn't blame her; he was confused too. "I just wanted to tell you..." he trailed off.

Now that he was finally doing it, it seemed supremely silly to tell her that she was going to meet his bio-dad again soon. What would he even say? It came to him in a dream? That answer was funny in response to a math teacher asking how you reached a certain result, but it wasn't the kind of explanation anyone took seriously. Still, Wes felt like he had to tell her.

"I uh... I just have this really strong feeling that you may end up meeting my bio-dad soon," Wes bit out. "I don't know why, I just... felt like I should tell you."

"Honey, I haven't seen him in thirteen years," his mother reassured. "I don't think either of us has to worry about me running into him again after all this time."

"But—"

"I'll tell you what," she said. "I'll make sure to keep an eye out for him just in case, and I promise if I see him, I'll turn the other way. Okay?"

"No, you need to talk to him!"

There was a stunned silence on the line. Wes didn't even know why he said that.

"Why?"

"I... I don't... he has something important to tell you." Why was Wes still talking? Where was this coming from? Why couldn't he just shut up?

"What are you saying?" his mother asked. "Have you heard from him? Did he contact you somehow?"

"No it's just... I can't explain it, okay just... please mom."

After another long pause, she finally said, "Alright... if you say so, hon. I trust you."

The next time his mom came home, the day before Wes turned thirteen, she walked in the front door with a tight smile. She spoke only in short sentences. It seemed like her mind was far away, occupied with something else.

That night, Wes and Kyle heard yelling from their parents' room for the first time in a long time. Mostly their father. Walter Weston rarely lost his temper, so for him to be yelling like this, it had to be about something serious.

"Don't tell me she did it again?" Kyle said with a sneer.

Wes didn't dignify that with a response. He pressed his ear to his own bedroom door and tried to make out what they were saying. The words were muffled, and he didn't catch most of it, but he did hear a few things.

"... my kid, not his!" in his father's voice. And, "He doesn't get a say!"

Then his mother, whose voice hadn't been loud enough to hear up to this point shouted back, "But what if Wes is in danger!?"

Wes' breath hitched. Was something going to happen to him? Had his mom actually met his bio-father? Had he threatened Wes in some way?

Wes strained his hearing to listen, but the voices had gone silent. When they picked up again, it was at a much lower volume, and he couldn't make out a single word of what they were saying. That night, he laid awake worrying, unable to sleep. When dawn broke, he gave up on trying and got out of bed.

He wished basketball season wasn't over. That would give him an excuse to leave the house and go to school for early morning practice. He scored the most three-pointers of anyone on the team, and getting praise from his coach and teammates was always a morale booster. He could really use something like that about now, rather than just stewing in his anxiety while he got dressed.

When he left his room, his mom and dad were already awake, sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Wes, honey, we need to talk to you," his mother said gently.

Wes' first thought was, 'You're getting divorced and it's my fault,' but he knew instinctively that that wasn't the case. He also somehow knew that the real reason they wanted to talk would be arguably worse.

"Why don't you have a seat, son," his father said.

He called me son, Wes thought as he cautiously sat down across from them, whatever this is must be really serious.

"I don't know how you knew," his mother began, "But as it happens, I did run into your biological father again, the day after you called me, in fact. And he did have something important to tell me. It was a warning."

"What kind of warning?" Wes asked. "Did he threaten you or something? Did he threaten me?"

"No, no... well, not quite," she said.

"He told her you were in some sort of danger," his father cut in. "I don't know if he has enemies or something and he's worried about them finding you, or what, but he said that he was sending someone to come get you and take you to some kind of, I don't know, protective custody or something?"

"He said it was a private summer camp in Long Island," his mother clarified. "Somewhere where you'd be safe and protected. He seemed very serious about this, it was unlike him. I did some research already, and it's definitely legitimate. I arranged a flight to New York for you and whoever he sends already. They should come for you as soon as the school year is over."

"That's it?" Wes asked. "Nothing about what kind of danger I'm actually in, or why? Man, if I thought this guy was a jerk before, I know he is now."

"Are you saying you won't go?" his father asked. His voice was hopeful, but his expression was conflicted. He didn't want his son to leave, but he didn't want him to get hurt either. "There's no real evidence you're in any danger aside from this random man's word."

"I don't want to take that risk," his mother said pointedly.

"I'll go," Wes said. "It's just for the summer, right? Then I can come home again?"

"That's right," his mom said.

"Then I'll go."

School ended three weeks later, and a lanky man came to pick Wes up at the end of the day. He wore baggy slacks, a dark striped button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and an unbuttoned gray vest. A flat cap covered his curly brown hair. He looked like he belonged on a street corner selling newspapers. He stuck out like a sore thumb in front of a school.

His eyes zoned in on Wes the second he stepped out of the school building.

"Wesley Weston, right?" the man said once Wes was close enough to hear him. "Name's Melvin Barkley, your father sent me to get you."

"Don't call him that," Wes grumbled. "I didn't realize you were gonna come get me right when school ended. We gotta stop by home and pick up my bag."

"Can do," Melvin said amiably. "Lead the way."

Wes wasn't sure if he'd been sent as a sort of guide, or as a body guard, but he was particularly laid back for someone in either profession. When he walked, he walked with a strange gait, and his eyes darted around every few seconds before fixing solidly back on Wes.

School ended early on the last day. When Wes got back home to pick up his bag, the place was empty and all the lights were off. He didn't turn them on. It felt like it would be wrong somehow.

Kyle had gone to the skate park with his friends the second the final bell rang. Easton wouldn't be coming home from his first year of college until tomorrow. Mom was on a flight to Germany right now, and wouldn't land for another eight hours. And Dad was still at work.

Wes wasn't going to get the chance to say goodbye. Instead, he wrote a note and ended it with, See you all at the end of summer! Love, Wes

#dp #danny phantom #fic #pjo #riordanverse #dp x pjo #crossover #crossover danuary week 2024 #crossover danuary week #things i wrote #wes weston #original characters #Wes Weston's mother is named Rose although it's not actually mentioned in this chapter #why are seers always cursed?

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