Chapter Text
Apollo paced while he waited for Hera to call him in. She had said for him to wait for her cue right outside the room, in a small side office that he assumed was hers. Apollo wasn’t much good at waiting though. He also didn’t like the thought that a council of almighty Olympian gods were questioning his authenticity.
“I believe you,” Hera had promised him moments before shutting him up in the cramped office. “And, once I explain the facts to them, the gods will believe me.”
“Why can’t I see them with you?” Apollo had asked, frankly feeling rather put out. He had bestowed so much trust in her (Apollo still wasn’t too sure what Hera saw in his mind), yet she didn’t seem to have any faith in him.
“Well,” Hera hesitated. “You’re not very liked in this company.”
“Why? What did I-other me do?”
Hera had frozen then, a dark look passing over her face. A beat later, as suddenly as it had arrived, it was gone, replaced with an almost pitiful expression. She had spoken her response in a incredibly soft voice, one Apollo hadn’t expected from her:
“It’s not my place to say.”
With that, she had left him. Apollo sighed as he walked back and forth in the office. He wondered what his friends were doing. Had any of the gods noticed his absence? Did Meg even know? Apollo stopped pacing, and held his head in his hands. Then he stopped, remembering these weren’t his hands nor his face. He scowled down at himself.
Why does everyone hate you? He wondered. What did you do?
He shook his head. Great. After repaying his past sins in his world, he would now have to make up for what some other him did. Apollo wouldn’t have minded much, as long as he could be assured he would return back home eventually. As of right now, though, there was no such luck. But hey, when did he ever have that?
“Apollo!”
Apollo jumped, and turned to see that Hera had opened the door. A dozen colors looked at him skeptically. He awkwardly exited the office. Once he did so, Hera shut the door behind him. He wearily viewed the occupants of the room.
It wasn’t the throne room he’d expected; instead it looked like a conference room, with a long table and chairs. The closest deity to his right was a green man with flowing hair and fish gills on his neck. He also had a long scar running down one eye. He would have looked intimidating, were it not for his laid back (and almost boyish) face. Apollo assumed that was Poseidon. To his left was a similar looking woman; Amphirite, Apollo suspected.
Beside her was a man in a black suit with red eyes, blue skin, and grayish hair. He was glaring daggers at Apollo. Apollo assumed that man was Ares (a very angry Ares, no doubt). At the head of the table was Zeus, eyeing Apollo up and down, unimpressed. Apollo moved along, not wanting to linger on his otherworldly father.
Another green goddess, but this one had purple hair and wore a Grecian dress. Apollo took her for Demeter, due to her older garb and the wheat that stuck to it (not his best detective work). Apollo thought of Meg and his heart panged. Moving on there was a gray goddess with shorthair that was covered with a helmet (Athena, perhaps?) and another battle dressed man with orange skin and burning red eyes. Ah, Apollo had made a mistake; that man was definitely Ares. Apollo noticed the last person in the room and his heart panged again.
It was Artemis.
Call is twin instinct (and the fact she was an identical purple), but he knew immediately it was her. The hunting tunic, the easy posture, the only pair of eyes that weren’t suspicious nor angry; it was his sister, he could tell. Not my sister. Apollo reminded himself, forcefully. Not my world. Still, Apollo had to choke down a sob (gods, he really was emotional) as he faced Hera again. She gave him a sympathetic look, as though she understood his sadness.
“So, this is the other Apollo.” Hera announced.
“Are you sure?” asked the orange man he thought was Ares, boredly. “He looks the same.”
“That’s because his mind is in our Apollo’s body.” Hera explained.
“He’s lying.” the man in the suit said, abruptly.
“I assure you, he’s not,” Hera replied, easily. “A vision came to me when I touched him. He is the real deal.”
“How did he even get here?” the man pressed.
“It doesn’t matter,” Zeus drawled. “He’s here now. What do we do about it?”
Hera glared at her husband, then turned to a perplexed Apollo.
“Do you have any idea how you got here?” she asked him, calmly. Apollo shrugged, uncomfortable with the many sets of piercing eyes on him.
“Do you know where our Apollo is?” the gray goddess put in.
“I just assumed it was another one of Zeus’s punishments. My Zeus’s,” Apollo clarified, quickly, still not meeting this world's Zeus’s eyes. “And no, I have no clue.”
That thought had been frequently haunting Apollo’s mind. If he had taken over this body, wouldn’t it be safe to assume that their Apollo was in his body? Apollo hoped that if that were the case, he stayed far away from Camp Half-blood. He didn’t quite trust the Apollo whose body he was in now. But there was nothing to be done about that, so there was no use worrying. Not yet, at least.
“Why would you be punished if you haven’t done anything wrong?” the blue man interjected.
“Hades!” Hera said, warningly.
“I didn’t do anyth-wait, you’re Hades?” Apollo stared at the man. The man leaned back, a scowl still firm on his face.
“Yes.”
Apollo almost laughed. His uncle was certainly a businessman but this one seemed so… stuffy? Legitimate? Apollo’s Hades was much more careless in his attire, usually staying in a tunic or a lazily put together suit. He also wouldn’t be able to part with his oily black hair. The only similarity between the two was that they both appeared to be easily aggravated (and tired, if the bags under this Hades’s eyes were any indication). Apollo felt a smile creep onto his face. Gods, what would Nico say?
“The point of this meeting is to help Apollo get home,” Hera said, trying to get the group back on track. “Does anyone have any ideas? Any multi-universe experience?”
Glances were exchanged, but no one spoke up. Hera turned back to Apollo.
“What about on your end?” Apollo shrugged helplessly.
“Zeus? It seems right up his alley.”
“Hey!”
Apollo winced. “Not you, of course.”
“What is your Zeus like?” Artemis spoke for the first time. The words burst out of her, as though she couldn’t contain them. She didn’t seem too abashed. Apollo looked at her tentatively. “What are we all like?”
Apollo suddenly felt even more nervous.
“We don’t have time to go into all of that.” Apollo tried, hurriedly, to deflect. Ares snorted.
“What else are we doing?”
“We do have a right to know. If you’re being honest, of course.” Amphirite agreed.
“Yeah!” Poseidon piped up. Murmurs of assent spread throughout the room. Apollo looked to Hera for help. She lifted a shoulder.
Your call. She seemed to say. Apollo took a deep breath.
“Well, just a run down…” he looked at Poseidon. “You’re not green. Noone has the skin of vibrant colors, actually. You’ve also got a middle-aged dad vibe going on,” he moved on quickly. “Amphirite, we never really clicked, but from what I know you're very stern in my world. You seem lovely here, though.
“Hades, you’ve got atrocious hair. You also need to treat your son better and pay your workers more.”
“My what?” Hades sputtered, but Apollo moved on.
“Zeus…” Apollo paused, unsure what to say. You’re the worst father ever? Worst husband? Worst king? Nero would be taking tips from you? Apollo went with none of that. “You’ve got a nice beard. Athena, you’re a bit of a know-it-all, no offense.”
“None taken.” the gray Athena said, calmly.
“Ares, you make most biker gangs quiver in fear.”
“What’s a biker gang?” Area muttered.
“And Artemis…” her eyes were wide, expectant. Apollo gulped. “You’re a great sister. You have your own band of eternal maidens that you hunt with. You save demigods and mortals alike.”
Her eyes lit up at that. Artemis and Apollo shared a warm look. Definitely different from my sister. He thought. His Artemis would have rolled her eyes, and declared something sarcastic and disgruntled. She would have… gods, he needed to get back home.
“Touching,” Zeus said, blandly. “Can we wrap this up?”
“We haven’t solved any of this yet!” Hera protested.
“What’s there to solve? We found a new Apollo. Yippee. I was getting tired of the old one anyway.”
Apollo clenched his fists instinctively. He was starting to discover he hated all iterations of Zeus. Hera shot daggers Zeus’s way.
“We can’t just keep him,” Hera snarled. “We have to send him home!”
But Zeus was already getting up.
“Anyway, don't you hate Apollo? Why do you care?”
“This is a different Apollo, a better one.”
“Sure he is. Honey, you know your visions can be finicky.”
“Damn it, Zeus, you are the worst god I’ve ever met!”
“I thought that was Apollo.”
“Gods, can’t you see he is different? At least our Apollo never tortured his children for the hell of it! Or let his own son die! You're the real villain in his world!”
“...what?”
The room was silent. Everyone was staring at Hera, and then, slowly, at Apollo. Apollo processed the words, then took a step back. Hera looked at him, shocked at what she’d just said.
“How do you-” Apollo’s breath hitched. He saw Jason's kind, beautiful face in his mind. He put a hand to his head. He felt dizzy. He stared at Hera, eyes wide. “What did you see?”
“Apollo…”
“What did you see?”
She had never told him. He’d presumed she’d just seen the basics, just saw he was telling the truth. But if she’d seen that…
“What else?” Apollo asked hoarsely. “What else did your vision show you?”
Hera sucked in a breath.
“Your adventures,” she said, plainly. She reached up a kind hand. “I-I am sorry he put you through that.”
Apollo wanted to lean into her. He wanted to be hugged, be protected. He wanted the love that had evaded him for millenia. And he’d found it, with Meg, and Nico, and Rachel, and all of his children and all of his friends.
He would not find it with any gods.
“It’s okay!” Apollo said, in a falsely cheery tone (Dam it, his voice cracked again). “What matters is that I get back to my world, and out of your hair!”
Hera’s brow furrowed.
“Apollo-”
“Speaking of hair,” Apollo interrupted, searching desperately for any reason to leave this room. He could tell Artemis’s eyes were boring into him. The rest of the group just looked confused. It had become clear to him no help was arriving from these individuals. He would have to find answers himself (it was a lonely thought, but he refused to bother these fine deities anymore. He could always go to Hebe and Hera for help, right?). “I better go fix up this, uh, mine. Right. Bye!”
He quickly shut himself back into the office from whence he came. Apollo blew out a relieved breath. He was sweating. It hadn’t occurred to him how much seeing them all (especially Zeus) would affect him. Apollo took a step forward, before realizing, with horror, that there was no exit. Except, of course, the room he’d just left.
