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Percy Jackson's puppyhood at Camp Half-Blood consisted of two wildly different experiences.
The first was the intense and rigorous training to become gladiators and soldiers that all of the demigods at Camp went through. This wouldn’t have been so bad if the other demigods weren't awful all of the time; mocking and name calling, pulling pranks that left emotional and physical scars. The only part of Camp that Percy liked was sword fighting and he only liked that because of Luke.
Luke was the second experience. He made everything else bearable because Luke was Percy's momma. Well, adopted momma. Percy's real mother left him at this awful place when he was seven. Specifically she left him in Luke's lap and had left enough of her scent on Luke that Percy needed to be close to the older pup. That set everything else into motion; Percy becoming Luke's shadow and later, during Luke's heat, Luke's first puppy. Luke's only puppy.
After the first time Percy went into Luke's nest and suckled from his nipples, Percy made a habit of it. Not just during Luke's heats, but even in Cabin Eleven - where the children of Hermes and the unclaimed demigods like Percy lived - Percy found his way into Luke's bunk and nursed. It didn't matter to Percy that he should have been weaned before even arriving at Camp, or that Luke didn't produce any milk, because Percy was nursing to be comforted and to feel loved.
Luke was both comforting and loving. He made life worth living. And after a very long time of nursing Percy, Luke's body decided to begin producing milk for the apparently desperately starving puppy it didn't remember birthing.
Percy was thrilled the first time it spread over his tongue because here was irrefutable proof that Luke really was his momma. Luke's milk had the unexpected advantage of making Percy grow big and strong, which was good for dealing with all of Camp outside of Luke's nest because they hated what Luke and Percy had even though there wasn't a fight that Percy or Luke couldn't win. There were many fights and all were won but it still sucked because demigods were supposed to be on the same side, were supposed to be loyal to each other but most just wanted to stab them in the back.
When Luke was seventeen and Percy was ten, the Oracle stood up from her spot beside the window. She moved stiffly. The fact that she was moving at all scared both Luke and Percy into stillness. Green smoke poured from her lips and they saw a girl who resembled the Oracle, but what she looked like alive. She looked sad as she told Luke the prophecy for his quest. When she was done, she said, “I’m sorry.” Then she turned around and went back to her spot beside the window, immobile again.
Luke left for his quest. When he came back, Luke’s face had a scar on the right side running like a tear track from eye to jaw. He was still holding the severed claw of a big, big dragon when he pulled Percy into a tight hug and kissed his cheek. This was not the prize Luke had been sent to get, but Percy knew what Ladon was and he was just glad that his momma was back.
Percy was twelve years old when Hermes came for Luke. They'd been curled up in Luke's nest, Percy suckling on one of Luke's swollen, puffy nipples. He'd been teasing it with his tongue because he liked the sounds Luke made, having suddenly become very aware of them after turning twelve. Luke was the sun and the moon in Percy's sky and lately he'd been having…new feelings for his momma that were exciting and confusing.
Luke's breath caught over and over again but he didn't correct Percy. He only ran his hand through Percy's hair, petting him like he always did.
On the last day of Luke's heat - when Percy was dozing in Luke's nest with a belly full of milk - Hermes appeared in the Big House attic where Luke kept his nest. Percy only knew who he was because he smelled like Luke's sire and because Luke growled deep in his throat, his whole body going tense. "Luke," Hermes said, voice already tired.
"Fuck off," Luke snarled. He crouched over Percy like he had any hope of defeating a god.
Hermes sighed. "I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here but it was me…or his father."
Percy pretended to still be sleeping but he felt it when Luke stopped breathing. Percy was unclaimed and had no clue who his father was…but Luke seemed to know. "Leave us alone," Luke begged, a hint of that snarl still in his voice.
"I can't." With that, their fates were sealed. Hermes would have whatever he came here for. "Percy's father doesn't like that you've been coddling him, Luke. He finds it embarrassing and is mocked from all sides for how his champion acts like a puppy."
"Typical god only cares about himself," Luke said dangerously. "He can make another one. Percy is my pup."
Hermes sighed again. "Either I come and relocate you, Luke, or he comes and takes his son to his kingdom, where you might never see him again."
Luke made a noise like a wounded animal.
"You're already too old for Camp, Luke," Hermes pointed out gently. Luke was nineteen, an adult by all standards, and demigods were typically kicked out of Camp when they turned eighteen.
By now Luke was overtop of Percy and he leaned down to nuzzle him.
Percy couldn't make a sound. His heart raced.
Don't go. Don't let them take me.
Luke lifted his head. "If I go with you, when will I see him again?"
"When he's grown."
That was so long from now but Luke rubbed his cheek against Percy's one last time, whispered, "I'm sorry," and rose. He left Percy in his nest and stood beside his father. Then they were gone; and it was only Percy and the Oracle's corpse left in the attic.
"Momma," Percy cried, suddenly finding his voice. He curled around a pillow and sobbed. He wanted to die…but he wanted to see Luke again more. All Percy had to do was grow up.
Two days later, Percy presented as an alpha and went into rut. He hid himself away in the Big House attic as Luke had done for his heats, laying in Luke’s nest, humping the pillows. Percy was hot, and feverish, and so hard that it fogged Percy’s mind. In Luke’s nest, Percy was surrounded by the scent of his momma. It at once soothed Percy and made his heartache even worse.
Over the next few months, Percy all but moved into the Big House attic. He was sick of the other demigods being mean to him all the time and they were too afraid of the Oracle to venture up except when getting prophecies for their quests. He didn’t mind the Oracle at all. She’d been a quiet presence in his life since the first time he scrambled up the ladder to be with Luke at age seven. The more time that he spent in the attic, the more Percy liked her.
Sometimes she even talked to him, as best she could considering that she was dead and a possession of Apollo’s.
Months turned into a year and Luke’s absence still hurt Percy as deeply as it had the first time. He had some idea that they’d be able to see each other again, but Percy didn’t know when that would be. He didn’t understand how his father could be so cruel as to care about how Percy made him look when Percy was still unclaimed.
The time that Percy nearly drowned Clarisse and Annabeth had the bonus effect of telling Percy who his father was, even if Poseidon wouldn’t claim him. That was fine because Percy wasn’t going to move out of the Big House attic and into Cabin Three even if he was claimed. This was Luke’s space and this was where his best friend the Oracle lived. There was no reason for Percy to leave; especially not to please a god who took away both of his mommas. At least Percy now understood why Chiron and Dionysus let him live in the Big House attic instead of in Cabin Eleven.
Around the time he was sixteen, Percy had developed a grudging friendship with the least likely person of all; Hermes. The messenger god was Luke’s father and the man who had physically taken Luke from Percy. This put a certain strain on their relationship but Hermes was kind and sympathetic and he was the only person who knew where Luke lived. So Percy may fume about their separation but he knew enough to know that he needed to be in Hermes’ good graces so that when the time came, Hermes would be willing to reunite Percy and Luke.
Hermes also taught Percy how to drive. Not a car, because that would make too much sense. Hermes taught Percy to drive a motorcycle. For being three thousand years old, Hermes was pretty good with a motorcycle. At the end of his driver's training, Hermes gave Percy a driver's license. “I know you don’t have a vehicle now, but perhaps in the future you’ll find the knowledge useful.”
By the time Percy's eighteenth birthday came, he was so tall that people constantly asked how the weather was up there, and he was so strong that he was completely undefeated in battle. Not that they had real battles at Camp Half-Blood because there were no wars at the moment, but there were mock battles and training and games that were a little too serious to be friendly. Not to mention the quests.
Percy’s friend the Oracle gave him his quests, never apologizing like she had for Luke, and each one was a success. Afterall, Percy couldn’t step out of line for fear of never seeing his momma again. If Poseidon wanted Percy to jump, then Percy jumped. The demigods at Camp Half-Blood still disliked him, but at least they respected him now and most of the older ones had either died or their butts whooped enough that they were wary of Percy.
That was good enough for Percy.
For his birthday, Hermes gave Percy a custom motorcycle. It was big enough for all of Percy’s 6’6” height. The motorcycle came with leathers to wear over his clothes so that if Percy crashed he wouldn’t skin himself. As Percy sat on the motorcycle, itching to go, Hermes handed Percy a slip of paper. On it was an address. “You’re free, Percy, to go where you want and be with who you want,” Hermes said.
Percy packed his few belongings in the saddlebags on the motorcycle. He said goodbye to the Oracle. That night Percy left Camp Half-Blood for good. As Percy hadn’t spent any time outside of Camp Half-Blood except for on his quests, he had no clue where he was going.
The little slip of paper flew out of Percy’s pocket and started glowing. Hermes was still looking out for Percy. The note sped off and Percy sped after it. He was led to an apartment complex in a quiet part of the city. The complex looked taken care of, with flowers and fancy lightposts illuminating the area.
Percy parked the motorcycle where the note indicated, then followed it up the stairs to the fourth floor. It hovered beside one door in particular, then burned itself into ashes when Percy stood at the doormat. Was this is? Was this where Luke lived? Now that he was here, Percy was shaky with nerves. He knocked on the door until he heard footsteps on the other side.
The door opened to show Luke.
Percy could breathe again. “Hi, Luke.”