Mortals Meet Percabeth + one shots and headcannons

The Fall of Jason Grace

Or, the end that Jason deserved. Written in omniscient, and inspired heavily by a Reddit post.

                                                                                             -

Jason stumbled through the wreckage of the boat, surveying his surroundings through blurry vision. Caligula stood on one side of the yacht, surprise etched on his face. The witch Media was nowhere to be seen, having fled the boat.

Caligula held his spear out. "So, you're one of the Camp Jupiter brats, eh? Don't worry, after I'm done with you and Lester here, I'll be going for your precious Camp."

"I am Jason Grace, former Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. I am the son of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, the slayer of the Trojan Sea Serpent. I toppled the Black Throne of Kronos and destroyed Krios with my bare hands. I am a bane of the Giants, a member of the Seven. I am no brat. And your time has come, my lord.'"

A memory flickered through Caligula's mind. This Roman... was the brat.

"I care little for who you are, and for your titles, boy. Incanticus!"

In one swift motion, the Emperor was seated upon his majestic steed, who reared his hooves and neighed.

"Tempest!" Jason said.

As his loyal friend flickered into existence underneath him, Jason understood.

If you seek out the Emperor, one of you shall die.

Jason charged at Caligula, their first exchange sparking the air between them, and pushed both of the steeds back.

It had never been Piper or him. It had always been him.

For one brief moment, Jason looked at Apollo and Piper, and he knew what to do.

"Go!" he said.

Piper tried to protest this, but with how screwed her mouth was after being headbutted by Incitatus, all that came from her was an unintelligible string of syllables comparable to the urgent babbling of a baby.

It made Jason wince. The last time he would see the girl he loved more than anything in the world would be when she was bleeding down the side of her face, her jaw dislocated, her eyes glazed over.

But damn she was still beautiful.

Jason turned his pain into anger and refocused on Caligula. He felt a change in the wind currents, and swung his sword, slicing an arrow from its trajectory of his face. Jason looked up and growled at the sight of even more pandai having gathered at the gaping hole in the ceiling. With a shout, he called more lightning, vaporizing the new wave of pandai.

Oddly, Jason was at peace with his death. Demigods were never guaranteed a long and fulfilling life and were more guaranteed to die young. Sure, there were lots of exceptions to that with New Rome and all those demigods and legacies that lived, but that was New Rome. A magic city that was protected by a god. The half-blood that lived outside that protection? Not so much.

It wasn't like Jason hadn't lived a fulfilling life, anyway. He had friends, and family, got to see his big sister again, got the news that Leo was alive and well, saved the world, mostly finished his diorama for the gods, and had made peace with himself.

Here he now was, at his end. He wasn't an exception to the fate of a hero, not like the others. 

Jason's sword clanged against Caligula's spear once more, and Incitatus grunted in pain as Tempus electrocuted him.

They needed more room. This broken boat wasn't good enough. Jason had no delusions that he was going to leave this battlefield alive, but that didn't mean he couldn't cripple the emperor enough that his inevitable defeat would be all the easier for whoever would kill him. Frank. Hazel. Maybe Reyna. He also needed to get Piper and Apollo out of there so he could cut loose.