Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The glow in the dark stars stick to the bedroom ceiling arranged carefully to be accurate to the night sky’s true constellations.

The walls are painted a light baby blue. On them are several by hand illustrated paintings and drawings of various sea creatures: a humpback whale, an orca, a bottle nosed dolphin, a school of minnows, crustaceans, oysters, a narwhal, and more come to life with careful purposeful brush strokes.

A small bed is situated against the wall with a small window displaying a city sky devoid of stars. Clouds crawl along it kissing the tops of buildings and threatening to unleash torrents of rain onto the concrete jungle below.

The right corner of the room is the only area where light is being emitted. A floor lamp stands tall beside a rocking chair that has been well cared for, handed down through several generations.

The wooden arm rests are chipped slightly. Each rock of the chair causes it to creak terribly under the occupants’ weight. But neither occupant mind. The sound a soothing familiar lullaby where others would find an ear splitting headache inducing noise.

Sally Jackson sits on the rocking chair with her son, Percy, sat on her lap. His head rests against her torso as his eyes eagerly take in the depictions of the book she holds in her hands.

She reads the words aloud knowing her five year old still struggles in making sense of them. His dyslexia causing the words to wiggle, blur, and even jump around the page no matter how hard he tries to focus.

His brain hard-wired for another language other than English.

The book in question is one they checked out from the library two blocks down. A book on Greek Mythology containing overviews of the Twelve Olympians as well as minor gods and the more famous myths associated with them.

The page they’re on now is that of the Greek God Apollo.

Sally reads over the information at a gradual pace as she watches Percy’s small index finger trace the words on the page as they leave her lips.

Her voice is a calm steady presence, “Apollo Pythios is the God of oracles, truth and prophecy, healing and diseases, archery, music and dance, poetry, the Sun and light, and protection of the young.”

Percy’s finger repeatedly traces over the words ‘protection of the young’ as if in deep resonance or perhaps comfort.

Sally continues reading the page, “He was born on Delos. His parents are Zeus and Leto. His twin is the goddess Artemis. He has many children including but not limited to: Asclepius, Aristaeus, Hymen, Eurydice, Hector, Miletus, Orpheus.”

Percy hums, attention pulled from the words to the depiction of the God on the left page of the book. His face appears smooth, devoid of facial hair. His facial features are crafted with an air delicacy yet his expression is one of controlled ferocity.

As his mother reads of Apollo’s arrows which spread great plagues in Greece Percy studies the God’s eyes.

They nearly glow on the page. As Percy studies the illustration he almost feels like it’s studying him back.

Sally’s words wash over Percy, “Apollo concerns himself with the health and education of children especially as the protector of the young.”

Sally continues reading but the pull of sleep tugs at Percy’s mind causing him to slump further against his mother. His eyelids flutter struggling to hold up the sudden unyielding weight of themselves.

Sally pauses in her explanation of Apollo as Zeus’ favored son and gives her attention to her own son who she notes is starting to drift off.

Sally smiles as she silently begins to close the book. A small hand grabs her wrists as a sleep riddled voice says, “Mm not tired, Mama.”

Sally huffs out a laugh, “Are you sure?”

Percy ignores the question instead providing one of his own, “What about the sea?”

Sally tilts her head down towards Percy trying to catch his eye, “What of it?”

Percy yawns widely but is quick to stiffle it at the knowing look direct at him from his mother. He pouts as the words quietly escape his lips, “Apollo controls the Sun. Artemis the Moon. Who controls the sea?”

Percy twists in her lap until they’re fully facing each other.

Sally does her best not to shrink under her son’s gaze. The gaze of those eyes. Those eyes that are a mirror of her lover’s and the answer to Percy’s inquiry.

Sally chooses to deflect while partially answering as her fingers deftly moves through the pages, “Well there’s Kymopoleia.”

Sally flips to her page eyes scanning it’s rather brief contents on the Goddess, “A sea nymph and Goddess of the violent sea. She controls violent storms, waves, and earthquakes.”

Percy stares at the page confused as to why there’s so little known or gathered on a Goddess of such domains.

Sally flips the page before Percy can question it further.

She taps the corner of the page, “Triton is a Sea God typically depicted as a merman. He is the messenger of the seas. He resides in his father’s golden palace and is often associated with the conch shell.”

She goes to flip the page once again. The moment the page is half exposed and the name catches her eyes she quickly flips past it to the next one.

Percy blinks, frowning at the action. He considers picking at the pages to flip the book back to the page his mother hastily skipped. Yet, his Mama’s fingers hold the book so tightly in them that her knuckles have turned pearl white.

A flicker of unease settles in Percy’s chest. It does not get the chance to blossom as Percy focuses on the image before him. He tilts his head studying the Goddess, Amphitrite, who is show as the Queen of the Sea. Percy’s eyes rake over her features that are startling familiar, just like…

Percy lays his hand flat against the image and murmurs, “Mama…”

Sally halts her reading and fixes her attention to Percy, “Yes?”

Percy’s eyes are locked onto the image of the goddess as he speaks, “She looks like you.”

Sally swallows thickly secretly praying the Queen of the Sea will not strike her nor her son down for such a comment.

Her voice comes out shaky, “The Queen?”

Percy nods even as the action causes the earlier tug of exhaustion to come to the front of his mind, “Mhm. Just like Mama.”

Sally purses her lips choosing to not add fuel to that fire. Instead she closes the book, sets it on the nightstand next to her, and hoists Percy onto her hip.

“I think it’s time for bed baby.”

Percy doesn’t bother arguing this time, his head slumps against his mother’s shoulder as his eyes stay locked onto the book wondering what other knowledge it holds.

Sally pulls back the unsurprisingly underwater themed blankets and settles her son down gently on the bed.

She frowns as she watches Percy carefully lay down, cradling his left wrist close to his chest like one would an injury.

Worry stirs in Sally’s heart.

She hides her concern best she can as she voices a request, “Can I see your wrist honey?”

Percy flinches, pulling his wrist abruptly against his chest causing a wince to cross his face.

The worry in Sally’s heart expands to fill her whole ribcage.

Wordlessly, sensing his Mama will not let this go, Percy lifts his wrist into his Mama’s waiting hands.

Her hand gently takes his wrist. Inspecting it. Percy holds back a whimper as her fingers press against bruises littering his wrists. He forgot again. Forgot to splash water on the bruises to make them fade. A trick he discovered a year or so ago.

Sally’s frown deepens. The light in the corner of the room is not particularly bright yet she is still able to make out the purple bruises encircling Percy’s wrist. Bruises that mimic those of fingers. Sally follows the bruises noting how a few marr her son’s forearm as well.

Sensing his Mama’s growing distress Percy’s high pitched squeak nerve riddle voice interjects her thoughts, “I was…I was trying to stay still! In class…”

Percy trails off as his Mama’s eyes do not stray from the bruises.

Percy’s mouth grows dry, tongue heavy, but he forces himself to continue speaking, “So to help focus I um, I squeezed my wrist…”

Percy’s laugh is a far cry from its usual joyous nature, “Guess I squeezed too much Mama…”

Sally listens to her son’s explanation. It’s plausible. Percy’s kindergarten teacher has rather frequently complained of Percy’s inattentiveness and inability to stay still in his seat during class.

However, Sally also knows Percy’s fingers are not nearly as big as the one’s shown by the bruises. Percy’s fingers are not as thick. Not as long. Not able to encase his -entire upper forearm.

Percy’s explanation is plausible but the evidence cradles in her hand acts against said plausibility.

But if Percy is lying. If these are not bruises caused by his own hand. Then…then the true reason is so, so much worse.

The alternative being someone else hurt her baby. An adult hurt her baby. Her baby who interacts with so few adults…

Sally’s heart quickens as Percy calls her name with hesitance lacing his voice.

Does she…does she call the school and ask if they witnessed anything? Was it the teacher?

Or…

Sally’s eyes dart to the door. The door which leads to the hallways of their apartment. Which gives way to the living room. The living room containing an old tv, coffee table, and shabby couch. A shabby couch that she knows has a drunken man passed out on it.

Sally’s lip twitch as her hand instinctively tightens around Percy’s wrist causing the child to yelp as tears brim in his eyes.

Sally blinks at the noise. Her previous thoughts, of: could it be? Would he dare? No…not to her child…right?

Vanish at her child’s pain.

Sally carefully lowers Percy’s wrist as a slew of apologies flow from her lips like a rushing waterfall.

Percy sniffles but sends her a smile as he murmurs, “‘S okay.”

Sally brushes his inky black bangs out from his eyes, he’s due for a hair trim, and wishes her child goodnight, “Goodnight my love.”

Percy answers her around a yawn causing the words to be rather distorted pulling a faint genuine smile to her face, “Night Mama…I love you…”

Within moments Percy’s eyes flutter closed and sleep takes him. Sally hopes with all her soul that it’s a peaceful sleep. A peaceful sleep that pulls her child away from the horrors of the waking world.

Sally’s eyes linger on Percy’s left wrist which is now hidden from her gaze under the covers clutching Percy’s favorite stuffed animal, a white fluffy seal that they got from the aquarium which Percy dubbed Pistos.

Sally had let it go, albeit reluctantly. She let her concern of the dark bruises to no longer plague her son.

But that does not mean she’s let the topic go. No, far from it.

Sally steals herself as she quietly makes her way away from Percy’s bedside. She exits the bedroom shutting the door softly behind her.

Her footsteps go from light to thunderous stomps as she grows further away from Percy’s bedroom and emerges into the living room.

As she expected her revolting husband is passed out on the couch. Several beer cans litter the table in front of him.

Her gaze catches on a beer can on the ground, contents half spilled, clearly having fallen from Gabe’s hold.

Sally narrows her eyes at the sleeping man. She’s quick to make the decision. She must confront him. This instant.

Because…because it’s only been minutes since her discovery of harsh bruises on Percy’s skin and it’s already eating her alive from the inside out.

Sally snaps her fingers in front of Gabe’s face impatiently.

The man barely stirs, grumbling somewhat in his sleep.

A spike of glee races through Sally as she does what he’s done to her so many times. She smacks him across the face with her open palm. Not enough to bruise skin nor break bone. But enough to inflame the skin into a splotchy red. Enough for brown unfocused eyes to snap open meeting her furious striking blue.

Before Gabe can mutter an curse at her she verbally descends upon him.

She’s never spoken to him in the way she does when she says the following, “Have you ever laid hands on my child?”

Each word pierces into Gabe’s mind pulling awareness to the forefront.

He sneers at her protective fury directed at him.

No fear shines in his eyes. Only disgust, annoyance, and what Sally fears is a hint of smugness, “And what if I did?”

While his eyes have gained a clarity to them his words are still slurred from his drunken state.

Sally grits her teeth so hard they threaten to break at the root, “I’d gut you like a fish.”

Her fingers twitch at her side for the knives she knows are a few strides away in the adjacent kitchen.

Gabe’s sneer twists into a sick grin as an ugly peel of laugher escapes his chapped lips.

He laughs in the face of her threat. Mocking her loyalty and love to her son.

Sally’s face turns a bright red that travels down her chest. Her body moves before her mind can process it.

She’s inches within his face causing the man’s eyes to widen, startled by the sudden close proximity.

Sally’s voice is pure venom as her fingers clench into fists ready to strike, “If you ever-“

She doesn’t get to finish as sharp pain courses from her cheek to her head in a rush.

Gabe smacks her across the face so hard she can feel blood spill into her mouth as her body is driven to ground from the force of the hit.

Sally gasps, breaths shallow and rapid, as she stares down at the floor watching drops of crimson stain it.

The couch groans and suddenly a shadow falls upon her.

Sadly lifts her head ignoring how the angle ignites protest from her neck.

Gabe leers over her. His hand is still raised, prepared to strike her again should she dare to stand before him, “Know your place, woman.”

Sally glares up at her abusive husband with murder flashing in her eyes.

She considers it, truly. Of following through with her threat. Of grabbing the kitchen knife and stabbing the bastard repeatedly in the neck in chest till he either dies from choking on his own blood or dying of blood loss.

Yet, the murderous rage in her eyes begins to fade as reality smacks her just as harshly as Gabe had moments before.

She can’t murder him for the exact same reason she went through with marrying him.

For Percy.

Gabe’s putrid scent is the only thing keeping the monsters at bay. Keeping her baby safe.

If she kills Gabe the monsters will pick up on Percy’s scent and arrive in droves surrounding their apartment.

Percy would no longer be able to play in the park or go to school. No longer able to step outside the door without fear of being killed.

Her only other choice to keep him safe is to contact Chiron and have him sent to Camp.

Camp. Where…where Sally is not allowed to enter. Not allowed to visit him. She would barely see him. He’d learn the truth. Her baby would grow to be out of her reach perhaps permanently. Joining a world she’s able to see but unable to live in.

Percy would accept his divine side and no doubt lose much of his mortal by attending Camp.

She pushes away Camp from her mind. No, Percy’s only five years old. No five year old should be dropped in a strange place with stranger people and beliefs and torn apart from their mother.

One more option whispers in Sally’e ear temptingly.

The memory of the book page dances in her mind.

She could contact Poseidon. Could pray to him. Before departing from their lives he told Sally should she or Percy ever need him all she must do is pray.

Yet, Sally’s small kindling flame of hope is snuffed out, he also warned her the danger of doing so.

That if Poseidon were to intervene in an attention drawing way it would point the gaze of the King of the Gods onto Percy.

Zeus would not hesitate to strike Percy with his divine lightning.

Mercilessly killing an innocent child over an oath he himself no doubt has broke as well.

Before Sally can think further on the weight of the decision of whether or not to call upon her immortal lover Gabe’s demanding demeaning voice cuts through her thoughts, “Make yourself useful and grab me a beer.”

She more hears then sees him slump back against the couch.

Sally closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and collects herself.

She ignores the strain in her joints and the pulsing sting on the side of her face as she partially stumbles to a standing position.

She’s quick to move past him heading into the kitchen.

The closer she gets to the fridge the more she feels herself turning into a zombie. A shell of herself. This marriage may just kill her. A price she’s willing to pay to keep her baby safe.

As she opens the refrigerator door and wraps a hand around one of many beers stocked inside the coolness of the can grounds her.

Her mind sharpens with clarity as she truly processes what just occurred.

Her fingers tighten around the beer can she yanks it from the fridge and slams the door shut harder than necessary.

As she walks back to the living room to deliver the violent monster his gluttony she makes a promise to herself.

If she sees any signs, if Percy ever says anything to point to it or confirm it, she will kill Gabe Ugliano with the equal amount of mercy he has shown her son.

It’s been several nights since Gabe smacked her so hard she was sprawled against the floor from it.

Several nights since she found the purple and yellow bruises staining Percy’s skin.

Several nights since she’s slept. Plagued by the possibilities. The atrocities. The unknown.

She knows, as she opens the apartment door arriving late once again from her job at the candy store, tonight will be the same as the rest.

Sally tosses her work apron onto a nearby kitchen chair. She pockets her apartment key and makes her way into the living room.

As usual, Gabe is passed out on the couch drunk. Vulnerable. Arrogantly vulnerable. The man truly believing she is unable to harm him.

The action spits in Sally’s face renewing her yearn to murder him in cold blood.

She pushes away the violent emotions as she moves on from Gabe to walk down the hallway, heading to her son’s bedroom.

Sally opens the bedroom door as quietly as she can, peeking her head through the gap between the door and door frame.

Percy is wrapped up tight in his covers to the point he appears cocooned in them. Sally is able to make out the the frown painted on Percy’s lips along with the sheen of sweat encasing his skin.

His eyes appear scrunched as if witnessing something horrid.

Her son is not sleeping peacefully as she had hoped so desperately.

His distress in slumber is blaringly loud in her face.

The concerns that plague her every night flare to life with a vengeance.

They eat at her.

The finger shaped bruises on Percy’s wrist and forearm.

How Gabe did not deny whether or not he’s ever attacked Percy.

How every bruise on his body Percy explains away as a school incident or minor mishap with only himself to blame.

And those are only the bruises she sees. Sally knows her son can heal from water. She recalls the day on the beach it shocked her to her core after a two year old Percy had cut his foot on a seashell and the lapping waves instantly healed him upon contact.

Could he be hiding more from her?

Sally’s head pounds with her rushing pulse.

Nausea floods her nervous system.

The taste of bile tickles the back of her throat.

Sally knows she’s not making the best decisions currently. She knows it no matter how badly she wants to argue otherwise.

But… she doesn’t know what the right ones are.

If Gabe is abusing Percy, she has to kill the vile man.

Simple as that.

But if she kills him there’s no one to cover Percy’s scent putting him at risk.

She’ll have to send her baby to Camp and say goodbye for possibly forever.

Sally’s heart clenches in her chest as each pump of blood is one filled with growing pain.

She knows she’s being selfish. She knows she’s putting her child in danger by keeping him around a drunkard. Forcing him to live with a violent man.

She knows the statistics. Read them over and over again till the computer screen hurts her eyes.

Gabe already hits her. Why would he stop at her child?

The thought sends instant chills through her entire body. But surely…surely not?

She’d have to know, right?

Sally’s arms lift to clutch around her waist harshly in a mock hug.

She cannot bring herself to tear her gaze away from her son’s restless form.

She’d be able to see the signs instantly. Pick them apart without a doubt. Immediately able to tell her baby is being harmed.

Sally’s arms tighten around her waist as she attempts to convince herself of this.

As the minutes tick on and she arms continue to tighten till she feels she can’t breath, she eventually tears herself away from Percy’s bedroom.

She makes it to her own in a haze. She doesn’t bother changing her clothes as she climbs into bed.

She closes her eyes knowing she has a shift starting at five am in the morning. Knowing she needs rest. Rest that she will not get.

Just like every night, she can’t erase the taste that she’s a horrible mother from her mouth.

Sally groans with her head in her hands as she hides in the back of the store. She’s working overtime again.

Something that’s becoming more and more frequent to her dismay as more of the store’s staff quits without warning.

Sally sighs, knowing she only has a few moments before the break in customer ends.

She fishes her cellphone out from her apron pocket and dials the home phone.

Her nerves are high as she hears the phone ring over the line.
Hoping to hear a particular voice.

On the fifth ring someone finally picks up the phone. The voice that greets her is not the one she hoped it’d be.

Her husband’s voice is thick with annoyance, “You better have a good explanation for not putting food on my plate.”

Sally holds back a growl as her fingers tighten around the phone, “I have to work overtime, we’re too short staffed.”

Gabe grumbles over the line of how she is a useless good for nothing sorry excuse of a wife for not putting dinner on the table.

Sally bites her tongue and forces her voice to take on a sweet edge, “Can you put Percy on the phone?”

She’s met with absolute silence.

A silence that instantly sets her on edge.

The eventual reply is encased in a resounding layer of ice, “No.”

No?

Sweat builds against the back of her neck as panic washes over her swallowing her whole.

She knows her voice is all desperation but she can’t find it in herself to care, “Gabe-“

The line goes dead.

He hung up on her.

Sally curses loudly as she slams her phone down harshly against the counter.

She winces at the creaking noise the action causes. Hopefully she didn’t just break her phone and add a new expense to the every growing list.

But that’s not what truly matters right now.

What matters is the sick twisted ugly feeling that has made a home in Sally’s chest.

Threatening to expand and slither. To curl its tendril around her neck and pull until she is deprived of air, choking on guilt.

It’s an awful gut feeling.

One she always experiences when she’s forced to leave Percy alone with Gabe.

Paired with the phone call she just had the feeling is worse than it’s ever been before.

Her breathing without her notice is bordering hyperventilating as she considers saying fuck it.

Fuck it all. Fuck this stupid job.

She considers rushing home and scooping Percy safely in her arms.

But, Sally’s teeth toy with her bottom lip, if she does that she might lose her job and she needs the money to keep Percy in school…

Sally continues to tug at her lip anxiously blood splashes against her tongue.

She takes a sharp breath at the metallic taste.

No, this is just her anxiety.

Nothing horrible is going on.

Sure Gabe’s a drunkard. An asshole. A wife beater.

But he’s not a child abuser.

Not even he would stoop that low.

He would not dare to harm Percy.

Deep down he has to know she’d kill him for it.

Deep down he must fear it.

And fear is control.

Sally nods to herself letting the false hope settle over her.

Her eyes glaze over as the buzzing in her head fades to the background.

As the faint screaming that accompanied the buzzing is tuned out.

Sally pockets her phone, turns heel, and assures herself she’s doing what’s best for Percy.

Even as her cheek stings in memory of the last time it was viciously slapped.

Even as her mind whispers abusers don’t care who is their target.

Sally pushes it away in hopes the world is not as ugly as it seems.

Sally is wrong.

He can feel it on his skin. The large bruise that blossoms across his cheek. Outlining the distinct shape of a hand.

His lip is swollen red and split open. The blood from it stains his blue shark pajama top.

His neck has a red ring around it. Red that will no doubt evolve into purples and blues.

His finger tips are bloodied from where he restlessly scratched at the force to get off his neck.

Percy huddles under the kitchen sink hidden behind cabinet doors, knees curled to his chest in efforts to make himself as small as possible, with sharpened ears.

He listen to every footstep. Every grunt. Every harsh breath.

And curls further in on himself wishing he could disappear.

Wishing his Mama was here.

He knows he should have told her. Probably from the start. But he didn’t want to worry her. She already worries so much. Percy may be young but he can see it. In the way her lips are down turned so often. In the crease along her forehead. In the twitching of her hands and erratic darting gaze of her eyes.

Percy holds back a whine as a familiar upsetting thought lodges itself in his mind.

If Percy causes his Mama too much stress she might not want him anymore. Might not love him. Especially if she finds out he’s been lying to her this whole time.

Gabe always says his Mama doesn’t love him…

Even if Gabe’s right. Even if finding Percy right now will mean his Mama will never again love him, Percy wants her.

He wants her warm hugs. Her soothing words. The safety of the crook of her neck. Her elegant fingers that comb through his inky black curls.

His Mama might not be able to save him. Not anymore. But his Mama is his comfort.

And he really really wants some comfort right now.

Percy flinches as he picks up on Gabe’s footsteps getting closer.

He tightens his eyes shut praying and praying fervently Gabe won’t find him.

He pleads and pleads. Praying over and over again.

To who, he doesn’t know.

If only Percy had been more careful like his teachers always say. He’s too careless. Too scatterbrained. Too in his own little world. He doesn’t pay enough attention to everything else.

Like ten minutes ago when he accidentally knocked Gabe’s beer off the coffee table when he was playing catch with his seal plushy Pistos.

Gabe had lashed out immediately with a harsh slap to Percy’s face. It made Percy’s head ring like the tolling of a bell.

Not to mention how Percy made another mistake after that one.

He tried to run away before it was over. Before Gabe had decided he was done with him.

Percy had tried to scurry away but Gabe easily snatched him by the leg and pulled Percy to him as Percy scrabbled helplessly at the tiled floor in a last ditch attempt of escape.

Gabe had quickly traded the hand around Percy’s throat to latch around Percy’s neck.

Percy’s eyes had watered, brimming with tears, as Gabe squeezed and squeezed till Percy’s vision danced with black spots and his mind became pleasantly warm and floaty.

Percy had scrabbled at Gabe’s hold on him but it wasn’t enough. After all, he only possesses the strength of a five year old. Nothing compared to that of a grown oversized man.

He was barely able to make out Gabe’s voice amongst the chaos of it all.

“Maybe I should kill you. Teach your stupid mother a lesson she can finally understand.”

The mention of his mother had made him want her desperately.

Gabe continued ruthlessly spewing poison, “She already suspects it and hasn’t done shit. Guess she really doesn’t love you huh kid?”

Percy knows Gabe said more but he couldn’t make it out. In a last ditch attempt to stop the ebbing darkness in his vision Percy had used his last bit of energy to lean down and clamp his jaws tight around Gabe’s wrist.

Grab had screamed bloody murder instantly dropping Percy on the floor.

The fall hurt. It especially hurt Percy’s side. Not to mention he landed on his leg at a weird angle.

There was also the familiar copper taste in his mouth. When Percy swiped his tongue against his teeth he failed to notice they’re as sharp as a Great White’s.

Percy had ignored Gabe’s howling and took off as fast as he could to hide. Limping the whole way.

And that is how Percy has found himself under the sink. Waiting. Trapped.

As each second passes he can hear Gabe getting closer and closer.

Percy’s able to make out his voice much to the child’s dread, “I’m gonna kill you for that you little fucker. You’re dead!”

Percy whole body begins to shake.

He mentally calls out for his Mama. Desperate. Alone. Aching from waves of continuous pain.

And gets no response. Of course he doesn’t. Why would he?

Even so he doesn’t stop calling for her as the footsteps grow closer to his temporary sanctuary under the sink.

Silent tears roll down Percy’s face as he knows it’s useless. He’s gonna die soon. Gabe’s finally going to kill him.

Percy buries his head into his knees and forces the noise of Gabe approaching away.

If these are his last minutes of life, he wants them to be happy.

He conjures his memories with his Mama to the front of his mind. He cradles their presence fondly.

Memories of him and his Mama baking blue cookies.

Of them painting Percy’s room ocean blue along with various sea creatures as Percy gets paint on his face and Sally laughs brightly as she tries to wipe it away and only achieves spreading the paint across his face from her own paint riddled fingers.

The recent memories of the two of them sitting on the family rocking chair. Reading stories of the Greek Gods together.

Percy focuses onto the last memory in particular.

His mind screeches and urges him of its importance.

Percy recalls the youthful image of the Sun God Apollo as his Mama read how the God was the protector of youth.

Hope begin to form in his heart. A small pebble that shines brighter than all the stars combined.

He considers…

Maybe…

But something else in the memory pulls at him with a stronger weight.

His mind flits through the other gods they had read about that night. Kymopoleia. Triton.
And. And…

And then he remembers the picture of the pretty lady. The Queen of the Sea. Lady Amphitrite.

Amphitrite who looks so much like his Mama.

The seed of hope in his chest shines brighter and brighter as he recalls the image of Amphitrite in sharper clarity.

Percy’s not quite sure what comes over him then. Unable to explain it. To make sense of it. Attributing it to pure instinct.

If his Mama won’t answer him…maybe someone else will?

Amphitrite is the closest thing to his Mama. And Percy is but a child. Yearning for his protector. The one who has always loved and promises to love him no matter what.

So Percy prays. He prays like his life depends on it, for it does.

He can smell Gabe’s stench of alcohol invading his nose as he prays.

Lady Amphitrite…

He addresses her properly. But..but all he can remember as her picture from the book page stains the back of his eyelids is how much she looked like…

Mama!

Mama please!

Percy squeezes his eyes so tightly that no tears are able to escape them.

Please save me Mama! He’s…he’s gonna kill me! He said he would this time!

The footsteps grow louder and louder. Closer and closer. Thumping loudly in tandem with the erratic beating of his heart.

And he’s getting closer! I can hear him! I can smell him!

Percy sniffles despondently holding back sobs.

He’s gonna find me! Please Mama Please!

Percy’s concentration is broken. Snapped.

His terrified haunting scream echoes through the prayer to Amphitrite as the sink cabinet doors are thrown open. The fluorescent overhead kitchen light spills in illuminating Gabe Ugliano’s twisted bloodlust grin as his eyes land on Percy.

She sits at the large dinner table decorated with elaborate dishes. With her husband. Her son. And her daughter.

Kym sits in her place at the dinner table begrudgingly. She stabs at her food muttering how her sisters didn’t have to come this time which is so incredibly unfair as she had been in the middle of conjuring a stunningly beautiful storm when her parents called her to the palace.

Amphitrite allows her daughter to brood. Deciding it best not to point out how Rhodes and Benthesikyme are set to arrive shortly, tomorrow evening.

Amphitrite’s eyes slide over to her son.

He’s incredibly tense in his seat and Amphitrite sees it unfold before it even occurs.

Triton snaps at his sister to not to be so blatantly rude to their mother.

Amusement stirs in the Queen as she notes her husband is not mentioned in the statement.

Her children begin to squabble in earnest.

Her eyes slide over to Poseidon to gage his reaction.

Today Poseidon appears to be ignoring the juvenile behavior.

In fact, Poseidon looks to be rather twitchy. His eyes are far away in a world of his own making.

Concern forms in her chest causing Amphitrite to question him, “Husband, are you alright?”

He opens his mouth yet she does not make out his response.

For at the same time he opened his mouth a powerful desperate prayer, no she internally amends, more of a cry for help comes to her.

Lady Amphitrite…

The voice is small. Young. Hesitant to reach out but desperate enough to do so. The Queen’s tail twitches as she can tell this child does not expect a response.

Mama!

Amphitrite flinches. At the clear terror lacing the single word. A word she has not been called in centuries.

Mama please!

The voice is so so young and so so terrified. She can tell it’s of the Sea. Very closely tied to the Sea in the way it reminds her of crashing waves and shipwrecks in its distress.

Please save me Mama! He’s…he’s gonna kill me! He said he would this time!

Amphitrite’s fingers twitch around her silverware as she fully hones in on the child tracking down where this prayer is coming from.

New York?

Who is this child? Why has he called for her? And who dares attempt to harm a child of the Sea!

Any child of the Sea is hers.

Under her protection.

This is her baby calling out to her crying for help!

And he’s getting closer! I can hear him! I can smell him!

The child’s sniffles are audible through the prayer.

He’s gonna find me! Please Mama Please!

Amphitrite stands abruptly from the dinner table startling everyone sitting at it.

Poseidon frowns at her in concern. He’d been trying to get her attention now for a decent stretch of time.

The siblings’ trivial squabbling comes to an abrupt halt.

Amphitrite focuses on nothing but her connection to the child. The connection which is abruptly cut off after a blood curdling scream pierces her mind.

“Wife, what is-“

“Mother, what ails-“

“…Mom?”

She hears none of their calls. None of their concern.

All she can hear is the baby. The baby calling her Mama.

Amphitrite flashes away from her domain in Atlantis within milliseconds to the kitchen of Sally Jackson.

She’s greeted to the sight of a repulsive mortal man reaching forward for something hidden under the sink.

He never gets the chance to make contact.

Amphitrite senses the child. The terror. The acceptance of approaching death.

She will not let it stand.

She moves as quick as lightning.

Her talons embed into the man’s shoulder yanking him back, away from where she knows her baby is.

Her talons slash through his skin effortlessly as if it’s mere paper. He screams stumbling back as warm wet blood spills from him.

He stares at her with a blind rage. He is unable to tell what she is. Who she is.

He is not a sighted mortal.

It matters not. Amphitrite’s eyes find his and all his sins are revealed to her.

No good mother is merciful towards their child’s abuser.

Amphitrite’s Godly power shines in its full might. Her divinity on full display. A divinity never meant to be witnessed by mortal eyes.

As it will stay.

The mortal man’s eyes melt out of his skull as he grabs helplessly at his eye sockets. His eyeballs now liquified, slipping through his fingers. His screaming has yet to stop.

She elongates her talons and slices off his hands effortlessly. He screams louder voice going shrill. He reminds her of a pig being led to slaughter.

She grabs his chin in an abusing grip with one hand and raises her other above his heart.

“You have laid hands on my child for the last time.”

He attempts to squirm in her hold but is unable to under her power.

“I will ensure your soul will be sent directly to Tartarus. The worst eternal punishment imaginable.”

His screams stop as his voice gives out.

“Many may think it’s a mercy the child’s father is not here to deal with you but I promise you, a mother’s wrath cuts deeper than any other.”

She sneers at him fiercely with the unending hatred of a scorned mother, “You have hurt my heart and for that I will take yours.”

Her hand moves swift as the wind to impale his chest. Her fingers wraps around his heart. And squeeze. Her talons pierce the muscle as her fingers squeeze the last drops of life from it. With no mercy she rips it out of his chest.

It pulses weakly in her hand as the mortal slumps in her firm grasp.

He’s dead. Sent to Hades’ domain.

It doesn’t stop her from spitting acid at him. His body burns up until his flesh is nothing but bits of ash.

Amphitrite takes sharp body rattling breaths to calm herself as her ears pick up on quiet sniffling.

She reigns in her divinity quickly.

With one last glance to the ashes below her she is able to fully calm herself. She turns her body to the area under the sink.

And truly she’s terrified. Terrified of what she’ll find. What state her child will be in.

She aches wishing the child had called out to her sooner. And why just why hadn’t the mother contacted Poseidon? Why did she choose ignorance? Why did she almost get her baby killed?

Amphitrite wishes away the blood and guts on her. They vanish. Once again she is pristine. No sign of the brutal murder of revenge she carried out moments before on display.

She doesn’t lean down to the sink cabinet level just yet.

She allows her voice to drift over the child like the lapping of a gentle wave against the shore.

“Little Pearl, you called for me.”

No answer.

She continues.

“I’m here now my sweet.”

No answer.

She reigns in her anger as she recalls how she had found the child.

“That man cannot hurt you. I made sure he can never harm you again. “

A smile voice whispers from under the safety of the sink, “Never?”

Amphitrite seizes it as love and pain alike bloom in her chest, “Never darling, never.”

There’s some shuffling.

The child comes into light.

It’s a boy, she believes. With inky black hair as dark as the ocean’s deepest depths. It curls around his small ears.

His eyes change. Dancing between algae green and tide pool blue.

Ocean eyes rimmed red. Tears spilling from them.

Tears spilling down bruised skin already purpling.

Spilling past a split lip that gushes blood painting the child’s chin and dribbling onto his chest.

Amphitrite catalogs every injury like a hawk. Bruised face. Split lip. Bruised neck. Injured windpipe. Broken ribs. A twisted ankle.

She finds herself wishing mortals were able to live forever like gods. Just so she could enjoy agonizing the man that dare do this to her child for all of eternity.

Amphitrite’s eyes soften as the child’s eyes find her own. Those wide eyes shine with hope, awe, and reluctant relief.

The child’s lip wobbles as he subconsciously edges closer to her and away from the inside of the sink cabinets.

His voice is a shaky tentative thing, “Mama?”

Amphitrite’s heart breaks and mends itself in the same breath.

She kneels down slowly. She nods and slowly opens her arms invitingly, beckoning him forward. So she can whisk him away to safety. So nothing like this can ever transpire again.

Poseidon will have to understand. He’ll make Zeus understand. She’ll go to Olympus and battle the Council herself!

And the mortal mother will have to understand as well. Amphitrite will not be needlessly cruel. She’ll make the mortal mother aware her child is alive and safe.

Unlike he was in her care.

She makes her voice as soothing as possible. The child notably eases at the sound of it.

“Mama is here. I heard you call for me baby.”

The child stares at her astounded, “You did?”

Amphitrite nods encouragingly, “Yes.”

She smiles warmly, “All you have to do is crawl into my open arms and I will take you far away from here. You’ll get to meet your father and your siblings.”

The child’s eyes sparkle with interest and then shine with distrust, “But… Daddy is lost at sea…”

Amphitrite internally scoffs and laughs at the explanation the mortal mother had given her son.

Amphitrite assures him, “I promise I can take you to him.”

The child tilts his head and squints as he inspects her, “You’re not…you’re not my Mama…Sally Jackson? Are you…?”

Amphitrite hums at the knowledge of the mortal mother’s name, “Very astute little one, I am not.”

The child appears nervous at this reveal.

Amphitrite pours love into every word that leaves her lips, “I may not be your mortal mother but I am your godly one.”

The child appears at a loss at those words.

Amphitrite’s arms ache to hold the little one and to mend his injuries and take away his pain as soon as possible.

“Please pearl, come with me. You can still see your Mama Sally.”

She hates to say that but she knows it would be wrong to take away the child’s constant in life.

The child stares at her with hope and trust only children possess, “Promise?”

Amphitrite’s heart aches and she becomes astutely aware she likely will never be able to say no to this boy, “Promise.”

The moment the word leaves her mouth fully the boy scrambles out from the sink nearly hitting his head in the flurry of it.

His small body crashes into her arms which quickly wrap around him securely.

He sobs into her chest. Body jolting from the force of the sobs.

The last time Amphitrite felt pain like this was from the loss of Pallas.

Her hand strokes through his hair, “I’ve got you, love. I promise.”

She waits till his sobs tamper down to whimpers which eventually give way to sharp exhales which lead to a tumultuous slumber before she transports them to Atlantis.

Atlantis is to put it short, in shambles.

Poseidon is absolutely furious by his Queen’s sudden disappearence.

Triton worries swimming back and forth in a circle just out of reach of his father’s wrath.

Kym twitches in her seat at the dinner table irritable at being left out of whatever is going on with her mother.

Amphitrite appears in her and her husband’s shared bedroom. She hopes it’ll allow her and her newly discovered son some momentary privacy.

No such luck.

The moment the rest of the Royal Family senses her presence once again in the palace they appear in a flash next to her.

Poseidon fumes, his trident gripped between white knuckles, as he’s more than ready to spew words of anger.

However he deflates upon the sight he sees. Freezing as Amphitrite angles her body to reveal the small form that has fallen asleep against her from crying so hard.

Poseidon’s face becomes that of one crest fallen.

Kym stares with wide eyes. Her skin gains a sickly green tone to it.

Triton…Triton looks like he’s seen a ghost.

Amphitrite watches vigilantly as the sea water begins to heal her child. Working tirelessly to aid its little lord.

Even so. Amphitrite purses her lips debating if they should summon Apollo to inspect the child and ensure he’s fully healed.

Poseidon is the first to speak breaking through her thoughts.

His voice shakes as he speaks. More vulnerable than anyone in the room has ever heard it before, “Is that…Percy?”

Triton and Kym stay unmoving. Remaining extremely confused by the unfurling events. Confused and aghast.

Amphitrite hums carding her fingers through Percy’s hair. He snuggles into her nestling his face into the crook of her neck.

Amphitrite’s soul sings with happiness at finally knowing the name of her precious little pearl.

Amphitrite’s answer is a sharp, possessive thing, “He is mine.”

Her family startles at the proclamation.

Amphitrite’s eyes glow with a mixture of protectiveness and possessiveness, “Percy is staying by my side in our Kingdom from now on.”

Poseidon stares at her. He…he should be elated.

His Wife, his Queen, is accepting his demigod child? Claims him as her own?

Yet all he can feel is dread. For just what has happened to his son for Amphitrite to react in such a way?

Triton finally finds control over his tongue, “Mother, what happened? Where did you go?”

A pained and rage filled expression takes over Amphitrite’s features.

She redirects her gaze to Percy. Instantly her eyes soften, “He prayed to me. Called me Mama. Begged me for help.”

Poseidon is breathless, “Why?”

Part of him wonders why Percy didn’t pray to him instead.

Amphitrite snaps her head to her husband. She seethes as her voice booms in the room with its godly power, “That filthy mortal man harmed my child! Bruised him! Split his lip! Crushed his windpipe to near suffocation!”

Poseidon’s anger and outage builds at every slight against his child announced.

The water around him boils.

The earth shakes and the ocean churns.

Mortals will retell the accounts of his rage for centuries.

Kym’s eyes have narrowed to slits. Her sharp teeth elongate ready to rip out throats.

Triton bows his head as tears gather in his eyes and his fists clench at his sides. His body quivers as he struggles to contain himself.

Amphitrite deals the last blow, “That disgusting creature was going to kill my baby.”

Poseidon’s voice is thinly controlled as his eyes flash with power, “Where was Sally?”

Amphitrite does not feel pity for the woman. She understands her actions even if she doesn’t agree with them.

When his wife does not answer fast enough Poseidon’s fury increases tenfold. He snaps at her ripping himself apart at the seams for answers, “Did she know? Tell me she didn’t know!”

Amphitrite shushes Percy as he stirs in his sleep sensing his father’s anger.

Amphitrite shoots Poseidon a reprimanding glare for disturbing Percy but her husband does not back down, too lost in his own emotions.

She adds more detail to the tale before answering him, “She was also being abused.”

Poseidon twitches, pain clear in his eyes, seeming to debate his following choice of words.

Finally he says, “That’s not what I asked.”

Amphitrite sees no point in hiding what knowledge she gained from reading the mortal man’s sins, “She suspected it but buried the suspicion down hoping it to be false.”

Poseidon’s divinity glows harshly with the urge to destroy the world that has failed his son so spectacularly.

Kym grabs her father’s arm to steady him, “Calm yourself father. Your child is here now, he is your priority.”

They all stare at her, stunned by Kym’s actions.

Poseidon’s rage simmers and simmers until it fades away to a trail of dissipating smoke from what was once a powerful blaze.

Poseidon eyes Percy longingly not for the first time in his immortal life, “My brother will not be happy.”

Triton scoffs incredulously, “If he goes against this he promotes himself a champion of child abusers.”

Poseidon raises an eyebrow at Triton while Amphitrite smiles proudly at her son.

Triton stands proudly, assured of himself and his actions, “Should he call for you I will deal with him for the night.”

Kym joins her brother’s side lifting her head high, “As will I.”

Poseidon and Amphitrite shine with pride for their two children.

Percy mumbles in his sleep drawing everyone’s instant attention.

Amphitrite cradles him close to her and makes a flicking motion towards her husband with her tail, “Come with me, he needs us.”

Poseidon follows his love to their bedroom leaving their children behind to deal with the rage of the King of the Gods.

Poseidon watches his wife and child. Amphitrite holds Percy against her as Percy in turn clutches her as if she’s in danger of vanishing leaving him to suffer all alone.

His wife will have no intention of releasing Percy from her arms tonight. Perhaps not for days even.

Poseidon knows he will be eventually be able to hold his precious son.

He’s waited years. In comparison to that, Percy will shortly be in his arms. His child is finally within his grasp.

But every second which passes with Percy not in his arms feels as if it’s ripping him to shreds.

Yet he will not dare take Percy away from Amphitrite.

He may be Percy’s father but only a fool would pull a child from their mother’s protective grasp.

Amphitrite settles into bed curling around Percy protectively. The child, so so small, snuggles into her warmth. His breaths even out as the crease between his eyebrow fades as Percy senses he is finally, truly, safe.

Poseidon joins them in the bed. He wraps his arm around the both of them.

Percy’s body finally fully relaxes making Poseidon ache in a way he was not aware was possible for a God.

Amphitrite smiles sadly at him. Eyes glistening with tears.

He hasn’t seen her cry since the death of their granddaughter.

Poseidon returns her sad smile with one equally as sorrowful.

The two Gods agree in that moment.

Percy will remain with them. No matter who tries to put a stop to that goal. Their promise.

Amphitrite closes her eyes. She does not sleep. Still to shaken from witnessing her baby so injured. Yet now calmed as her baby’s safety is within her own hands.

Poseidon’s eyes do not close. He can’t rest in any sense.

His eyes are glued to Percy.

Glued to his wonderful beautiful son.

As his mind whispers,

Sally, how could you ignore the dimming of the brightest light in your life?

Sally Jackson comes home to an empty apartment. Her heart drops as she calls out for Percy. With no answers she calls for Gabe. And eventually she calls for anyone. Anyone to respond. To explain!

She falls to her knees in the kitchen. She stares at the pile of ashes. At the blood trail leading to where the sink cabinet doors are wide open, not like she had left them.

And she knows. She knows what’s happened.

She hates herself for it. Loathes herself as she breaks down into heart breaking body shaking sobs.

Does she even deserve her baby after this?

Her sobs echo in the room, so loud they reach the heavens.

She knows she failed her baby. She will never forgive herself nor expects forgiveness.

Even so, part of her begs to one day see her child again.

To beg for his forgiveness.

For she failed him.