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.

Chapter Text

Artemis’ moonlight, accompanied by constellations of heroes and monsters from times of old alike, shines brightly against the night sky casting shadows along the slumbering earth below.

The Queen of the Sea finds herself unable to partake in such slumber where she resides below the waves in the ocean’s depths at the heart of Atlantis.

She is unable to keep her eyes closed. Unable to let her mind fade enough to rest for just a moment. As she knows she will remain as such long past when Apollo rides his chariot across the horizon.

The reason for this all of course being the little boy in her arms.

Percy Jackson.

She can’t help but drink in his appearance over and over again fervently.

It’s near manic in the way which her eyes trace his features. Tracing the slope of his nose, the shape of his eyes, the small pout to his lips while he drifts in Hypnos’ realm.

She yearns to card her fingers through the thick curly octopus ink black hair that wisps against his small ears endearingly. Yet she refrains in favor of having him firmly cradled in her arms where he is safe. Safe from all that would dare attempt to harm him.

For this is a promise that was spoken into existence the moment Amphitrite laid eyes on Percy.

She will protect him from all no matter the cost.

Whether the foe be as mighty as Zeus, as familiar as Poseidon, or as treacherous as Uranus.

Till the moment she fades from existence she will forever ensure her child’s safety. And perhaps even past that. If there is a way to do such, she will find it.

A small smile breaks across her lips as Percy sighs softly in his sleep snuggling closer against her side seeking warmth in the cool night.

Her smiles fades slightly as a firmer truth takes root in her mind the longer she gazes at her child unable to fully wipe away the memory of his bruised splattered face and bloodied split lip.

After all that has happened she prays she can still guarantee her child’s happiness as strongly as she can guarantee his safety.
She knows it will not be easy. Her child has suffered severe trauma. Whether she likes it or not, if not physically he will always carry scars from the abuse mentally.

Percy’s mind may be the equivalent to a war zone when he awakens. He’ll be shellshocked like a solider. Confused, dazed, unaware of his surroundings and grasping for a moment of clarity to stave off the ringing in his head as the world is much too bright for his current senses.

And she will be prepared. Both her and Poseidon will do everything in their power to help him process, help him adjust, help him heal. They will ensure Percy is given the chance to live as normal a life as a demigod can.

A demigod.

The word floats in Amphitrite’s mind teasingly.

She cannot say she has ever reacted to the word with the scales of wrath that Hera has, yearning to wipe its meaning and all those who fall under it from Gaea herself, yet neither has the word brought her comfort.

A demigod’s life is one full of danger. Destined for greatness or destined for inevitable tragedy with the two often coinciding.

But the end of the journey is all the same. Destined to die.

Amphitrite tenses her grasp against Percy as if the mere thought of a demigod’s inescapable death will endanger the child in her arms.

It is hard to forget how close he came to his string being cut had she not arrived in time.

As more and more minutes tick by with her continuing to monitor Percy the whispers in her mind grow louder and louder.

It’s a truth that sparks exhilaration through godly being. Her heart beats wildly with yearning at the realization she came upon after hours of tracing each and every detail of Percy’s face.

It would be so easy to mistake him as her own fully by blood. To mistake him as not just Poseidon’s child by blood but her child as well.

He has Poseidon’s curls with her coloring.

His face is still soft with the fullness of childhood yet Amphitrite can already see how it will change as Percy grows from a child to an adolescent. A mixture of his father’s strong chin along with the delicate sharpness of Amphitrite’s jaw.

The shape of his eyes along with the long lashes are reminiscent of hers. But the shade of his eyes are that of Poseidon’s. Or to be precise that of Rhea’s.

A fact which makes Amphitrite purse her lips anxiously as turmoil stirs in her chest. For she fears a certain Sky God’s reaction as well as those of his siblings should they gain so much as a quick glance of Perseus’s eyes.

She pushes aside that line of thinking for now not willing to delve into the intricacies of it for at least the night. She’s already made her resolve after all.

Yes, if she were to introduce Percy as her own no one would think to question her.

Except…

dismay fills her as she notes the one reason one may have to dare to question her claim on the child, for her claim would infer Percy is a godling…

except for the fact there is no shining brilliance from the child that there would be from a child of her an Poseidon’s union. Percy’s blood may have divinity running in it as it courses through his veins but it is not purely divine. He still bleeds red. Not ichor gold.

The thought stabs at her heart incessantly. Brutal with its dulled point inflicting more damage and pain than that of one sharpened. The reality of death that claims all demigods refusing to leave her.

She just got her baby. Her baby who was moments away from being taken aware from her forever.

How cruel is it that death is the one constant of life?

It steals her breath away. Imagining Percy’s death.

A death that has the power to come about from the dangers he’ll face as a mortal if they’re not careful enough.

The dangers he’ll face as a demigod that’s very existence has broken a vow made on the Styx.

Nothing good can come from breaking such a sacred vow as that of one upon the Styx.

Amphitrite glares over Percy’s head to her husband who is like she had been moments before gazing at Percy with love, longing, and sorrow.

Her glare only hardens as she recalls the Great Prophecy which the panic from caused the vow to be made by the Big Three.

Unlike the rest of the Council, naturally sans Apollo, Amphitrite is no fool. She knows there is no avoiding, no circumventing, a prophecy.

The prophecy will come true no matter what the gods do to work against it. No matter their attempts to alter and bend the weaving of the Fates to fit their own demands.

It is simply not how the universe functions.

Prophecies are Fate and Fate cannot be changed.

As such Amphitrite knows there may come a day where Percy is called upon by the Prophecy. A day in which she will likely be forced to release Percy from her waters. To the Greek Camp no doubt.

A place that is no longer her domain.

A place that drastically increases the chance of certain death.

Land. A death on land. Far far away from his family in the Sea.

It does not matter Amphitrite has only known Percy for a handful of hours. It does not change how she loves him to extents she did not know she was possible of.

For yes, she may not know him in the way a parent that has raised their child does. But she knows he’s a fighter. He’s a fighter in how he fought off the despicable mortal man with every cell of his being. In the way he held back his own pain to stop the addition to his mother’s.

She knows he’s a mama’s boy based on the look of relief and joy he succumbed to upon thinking she was Sally Jackson holding her arms wide to scoop him up and save him from the living nightmare.

And she knows from their brief encounter he has her husband’s eyes with none of their harshness.

All of this strikes her. How deep she’s already in when they’ve barely shared more than a few sentences between them.

And she knows. She knows Percy’s death would destroy her. Destroy all of them.

A scowl paints her lips as a crease forms between her eyebrows as she ponders what there is to do. For she has come to the rather quick yet firm realization that she cannot allow Percy to die. Not now and not ever.

Meaning he must ascend.

Before Amphitrite can go further down that line of thought a powerful sharp headache slams against her consciousness.

She nearly groans in annoyance as she instantly knows the cause of it.

These types of headaches always come about when the children are squabbling and Triton’s connection with her unknowingly ignites sending her his waves of irritation.

Honestly at his age Amphitrite would have thought Triton would have noticed the slip by now. Or picked up on how she somehow always knows when her children are arguing.

Amphitrite attempts to push the headache to the side but the effort only serves to make the ache stronger and stronger.

She sighs listlessly.

Her gaze falls to Percy who is curled tightly against her side while wrapped in the cocoon of her powerful protective arms. Her lip twitches as she debates. She’s hesitant to step away from Percy. But..but what if Triton’s irritability is stemming from dealing with Zeus? What if Zeus knows? What if he knows about Percy?

The thought is enough to have Amphitrite shooting a current of water to slap against Poseidon’s face causing her husband to jerk slightly in alarm.

Their eyes meet. Amphitrite looks pointedly from Percy to Poseidon in silent communication. After spending millennia together Poseidon is easily able to understand what she intends him to do.

He lifts his arm from where it was draped across her and Percy. He gently grasps Percy’s sides as Amphitrite’s hold on the child weakens.

Poseidon glances briefly at his wife sensing the anguish and confliction that is reflected in her eyes as she forces herself to relax her hold on Percy so Poseidon is able to take Percy fully into his arms.

The transfer from safety of mother to father is gentle and ever so careful from both parties.

Poseidon releases a shaky breath as Perseus is finally, finally in his arms.

His precious son. His precious baby. Only five years old and already has experienced the harshest parts known to the mortal world inflicted upon his small being.

Poseidon cages his arms around Percy. His muscles flex and near hide Percy completely from view as Poseidon settles Percy against his chest. Percy instinctually curls around his father pulling a look of wonder and awe from the Sea God.

Never before has Poseidon realized how powerless he is. How truly vulnerable he is even as a god. For this tiny mortal, his young son, holds the key to his soul.

He knows then Percy is both his greatest weakness and his greatest strength.

With that thought lingering at the back of his mind Poseidon chooses to bask in the feeling of Percy held safely in his grasp.

Amphitrite smiles softly as she rises from the bed while taking in the scene between Percy and Poseidon.

It has been a long time since she has seen such genuine joy painted on her husband’s face.

Reluctantly Amphitrite dismisses herself from the safe haven of their Royal Chambers to pinpoint her rogue children.

Thankfully she’s immediately able to tell they are still within the palace. Still within Poseidon’s domain which no god can access without permission. Meaning the Sky God is not a threat for now at least.

She doesn’t need to call upon her bond with Triton or Kym to tell all this.

No. She can deduce the conclusion due to the loud voices bouncing off the walls of the hallway between the Royal Chambers and a sitting area.

It’s not long before Amphitrite is in the shadows of the doorway of the room which contains Triton and Kymopoleia.

Her motherly instinct stops her from fully entering the room. It calls upon her to watch upon the unfolding events discreetly without her children’s knowledge of her as their audience.

Triton is swimming in a circle pacing back and forth at such a rate it’s a miracle he doesn’t create a whirlpool from the action.

Triton shoots an antsy look towards his sister who is sprawled nonchalantly on a couch resembling a clam.

His voice is riddled with anxiety and suspicion, “Do you think the Sky King is stalling?”

Kym glances up from where she had been inspecting her taloned nails to face her brother. She shakes her head after seriously pondering his anxieties for once instead of brushing them carelessly aside, “No. If he knew he’d immediately demand Father bring the child to Olympus.”

Triton hums, clearly not fully sated by her response.

Kym shrugs as she elects to explain her reasoning in the futile hope that Triton will drop the topic, “He doesn’t keep track of Mother’s whereabouts nearly as much compared to Father’s. Maybe he didn’t notice.”

Kym’s slitted eyes narrow as she decides to prod at Triton’s motives, “But why do you care?”

Triton frowns while raising an indignant eyebrow at the question, “What?”

Kym smirks as her eyes dance with mirth, “You’ve never cared about them before.”

Triton scowls deeply knowing fully well she’s referring to Poseidon’s bastard sons. And well, it’s true. He never has cared for them before.

But…Triton’s thoughts stir in a jumble as he asks himself the question why this one is so different from the rest…he supposes it’s due to how young this one is.

The memory of seeing the child for the first time flares to life in Triton’s mind. Painting a clear image of the several visible injuries that littered the child’s skin.

Yes perhaps it is due to the child’s age along with the how injured he was when brought to them.

Triton can’t help but shiver a bit at the memory. He finds himself thankful the sea was able to heal the child quickly.

Triton gathers his thoughts back to the present. Back to Kym’s question.

Yes, Triton nods to himself, it’s the right and true explanation.

It is only natural of him to feel protective over the child when he saw the child so drastically harmed. It is the nature of all merpeople.

Children are seen as precious. To harm a child is a crime punishable by death. It is simply not done in Atlantis. And when it does dare occur, which it so rarely does, the punishment of death acts as the harshest decree reminding all the citizens of their place.

Yet that does not erase just who the injured child is.

Even if Perseus does not deserve to be hurt he is still and always will be Poseidon’s bastard.

The fact annoys him but even so he responds to Kym with his justification, “He is but a child…”

Kym flicks her tails excitedly as she instigates him with a sharp claim, “One mother has claimed.”

The words pierce like a spear thrown straight through Triton’s heart.

They stir genuine anger within him.

His Mother has never done such a thing before!

To have his Mother’s claim is to put the child bastard on equal footing as her actual children! To claim the child as legitimate to their family!

The anger builds and builds until it is a volcano nearing eruption.

Triton’s pacing increases furiously as he murmurs with sharp disdain under his breath, “Yes. She has accepted a…a….” he trails off finding it difficult to even voice the reality of the situation aloud.

Kym hums sweetly, batting her eyelashes, “Hm?”

Triton throws a hand in the air as he seethes gritting his teeth while shouting between them, “A bastard! She’s accepted father’s bastard as her own!”

Amphitrite flares with a deep seated fury at Triton questioning her claim on Percy.

With no further hesitance she enters the room descending upon her two children with righteous fury brimming in her eyes.

Kym is the first to notices her as she is facing the doorway. Her eyes widen drastically as she takes in the sight of her Mother.

Triton, however, fails to notice Amphitrite’s entrance and and continues his infuriated rant.

“Not only does the bastard break the sacred oath spitting in Styx’s face but his mere existence breaks our father’s oath to our mother!”

Kym raises a hand gently towards her brother in efforts to warn him before he seals his own undoing, “Triton, I really wouldn’t-“

Triton fumes as he glares daggers at his sister pointing his finger at her, “No Kym! It was one thing when Poseidon fathered bastards in Ancient times. None of them were ever brought to the heart of the Sea!”

Amphitrite’s threatening aura seems to zap all the energy from the room.

But Triton has created his own bubble of energy filled with indignation and vexation that unknowingly shields him from awareness.

A strangled laugh leaves Kym’s lips as she realizes her brother is going to be the equivalent of dead meat at this rate.

The laughter pulls Triton’s outraged gaze to pin itself on Kym. His voice is thick with tension, “You think this is funny? That this stain is being accepted into our family?”

Kym smiles sharply at him with a mouth of pointed razor sharp teeth, “Oh you are so dead.”

Triton blinks momentarily stunned, “What?”

Then as if the spell has been broken he becomes aware of the steady increase of the water temperature rising.

Slowly Triton turns around. He’s greeted with the sight of a seething Amphitrite.

Triton’s entire being grows small, his posture crumbling in on itself, under her gaze as he stutters out fearfully, “Mother!”

Amphitrite’s glare cuts deep through the flesh. Her voice booms with the authority of a scorned Mother and Goddess, “You dare question my claim on your brother!”

Triton in that moment at first appears ready to do anything to appease her. Yet in the end he gathers himself making a different choice.

Triton straightens his stance and somewhat puffs out his chest, “I do.”

Amphitrite’s eyes rake over him harshly as she throws his past actions in his face, “Was it not you, Triton, who volunteered to go against the King of the Gods should he come after Percy tonight?”

Triton falters as he finds himself unable to deny the statement. It just…it came to him so naturally as the right thing to do in the moment he didn’t consider the full complications of the action.

Amphitrite takes a deep breath in efforts to simper down her rage, “No child chooses to be born Triton. Do not blame Percy for your father’s actions.”

Righteous rage engulfs Triton in the face of his Mother casually dismissing the truth of the situation, “Whether he is to blame or not he is the proof of Father’s infidelity! He is a insult to your marriage! To your honor!”

Amphitrite’s face becomes as hard as stone, “My marriage does not equate my honor.”

At that Triton finds himself unknowing of what to say.

Amphitrite spells it out for her son as simply as she can, “Like it or not that child is of the Sea. His essence is that of the Sea. The Sea flows through his very blood. And as you should be well aware, anything that belongs to the Sea likewise belongs to me!”

She practically hisses the end of her exclamation.

Triton doesn’t argue with that. He finds no point in it recognizing a lost cause.

Instead he prompts a question on her behavior that is beginning to irk him, “Why do you speak like you care for him? He’s a demigod mother and not even a grown one. He is not a hero, he has braved no challenges.”

Amphitrite’s smile is deadly, all teeth promising to bite, “Braved no challenges you say?”

Triton hesitates sensing he misstepped somewhere but unable to tell where, “How could he? He’s only what four of five summers old?”

A sadness encases Amphitrite dampening what had been her mounting anger.

She speaks softly, “This will erase your doubt.”

She places her fingers gently on her son’s head at his temples.

Through her fingers the memory of Percy fighting off the mortal is revealed to Triton.

Percy running for his life. Percy getting pulled and yanked back to the promise of more abuse. Percy nearly being suffocated, chomping down with shark teeth in a desperate effort to escape.

It all plays out before him.

As the memory ends Amphitrite shakily pulls her fingers away. Her voice is somber but strong, “He fought that monster off relentlessly. What I have showed you was the last time it occurred, not the first.”

Triton swallows thickly. Temporarily speechless.

Amphitrite narrows her eyes, “He did not tell his mortal mother. Do you know why?”

Triton whispers reverently feeling severely cowed, “No…”

Amphitrite does not soften the delivery of the truth. She does not diminish the bravery and selflessness exhibited by her youngest child, “Because he did not want to burden her. He chose to brave such awful violence over and over again in hopes to see his mother smile.”

Amphitrite takes a sharp breath to gather herself for her next words, “He put his mother above his own needs. His own life. And you dare tell me has has braved no challenges? That he is no hero?”

A wave of immense overwhelming guilt crashes over Triton.

Even so he desperately yearns to convince his mother to detach herself from the demigod. For he knows the outcome of such a bond.

His voice is not strong in nature. Nor is it a threat. Instead it delivers a harsh truth, “He will die.”

Kym snaps at her brother harshly astounded by his audacious move, “Triton!”

Amphitrite is well aware of this for she had been thinking about the very fact only moments before she came to check on her older children.

Triton continues. It’s clear to the room’s occupants he’s growing increasingly emotional from the tears pooling in his eyes, “He is not a god. He is a mere mortal. His existence is a blink of an eye compared to our eternity.”

The words are spoken with both a firm yet simultaneous hollow nature. Resigned.

Amphitrite does not tremble in the face of them.

At the lack of reaction from his mother Triton grows further enraged. His heart beats wildly in his chest battering his ribs as his voice rises to a crescendo, “You would let him get close? Let him into your heart? Knowing full well he will eventually rip it away!”

Amphitrite’s answer is sound and resolute, “Yes.”

Triton shakes his head in utter disapproval, “I know what it is like to lose a child, Mother. It is something that has the power to destroy you.”

Amphitrite’s demeanor softens at Triton’s mention of Pallas’ death. Her voice holds deep compassion, “All of us mourned her passing my son. We still do.”

She steels herself as she will not allow her point to fall to the wayside, “But tell me this.”

Triton lifts his head staring deeply into her firm gaze.

Her questions cut to the very heart of the matter, “Would you trade the moments you had with her? The sound of her laugh or the image of her smiling face to take away the grief? Would you trade Pallas’ memory to relieve you of the grief she has left you with?”

Triton instantly deflates knowing his answer right away, “No. No, I would not.”

Amphitrite hums knowingly, “Then you understand my decision.”

Kym decides that moment to enter the conversation, “Honestly Mom I assumed you were already arranging plans to make the demigod ascend.”

Amphitrite subtly smirks at her daughter, “Patience, Kym.”

Triton just barely manages to keep his groan internal as he notes the interaction.

Amphitrite swims towards her son to brush a hand across his cheek, “I am not asking you to be close to him, Triton. Although I won’t deny it would make me quite delighted.”

Triton can’t help but eye her warily at those words.

All softness from her voice evaporates as she states her demand and expectation, “I do, however, ask of you to treat Perseus as he is. A hurting child in need of the protection of a loving home.”

Triton nods slowly realizing that his mother has made her choice. She knows the consequences. There is no saving her now.

Amphitrite’s hand travels down to grasp Triton’s shoulder rather tightly in her clasp.

She smiles sweetly while her words are nothing but venomous in comparison, “Lastly, never again question my claim on him. Do you understand?”

Triton winces sensing the genuine threat, “Yes, Mother.”

Amphitrite smiles genuinely feeling a slight exhaustion encase her as she wishes for nothing more than to rejoin her young child and husband, “Well if that is all I will see you two in the morning.”

With that she leaves them, quickly finding herself back in her bed wrapping an arm around both Poseidon and Percy as she snuggles up to them.

Poseidon questions her at a minimal volume ever aware of his son’s presence in his arms, “Is everything alright?”

Amphitrite assures him with a smile, “Now it is.”

Poseidon raises an eyebrow at the ominousness of his wife’s answer but in the end elects to let it go.

After all, he has his son in his arms with his wife beside him. The world has finally righted itself. Everything is as it should be.

As Percy, Poseidon, and Amphitrite enjoy a calm, tranquil, loving embrace the rest of their family in the palace is much too busy recovering from Amphitrite’s wrath to even think of resting.

Triton places his face in his hands as he groans loudly. He’s completely ashamed by his total failure.

Kym laughs in his face brazenly, “I can’t believe you didn’t sense her!”

Triton glares at her vehemently. Yet a sudden smirk begins to grow on his face causing Kym’s own smile to fall.

Triton shrugs nonchalantly, “Well at least it’s a brother this time and not another sister.”

He’s come to terms that they will not be rid of the demigod anytime soon. For now at least…

Kym shouts angrily, “Hey!”

Triton simply continues to smirk at her finding comfort in their familiar banter. He at least knows how to handle this conversation unlike the one he just had with their mother.

Vengeance sparks in Kym as she gains a competitive glint in her eyes, “Mom seems to like him. A lot.”

Triton’s smirk falls from his lips morphing back into his familiar scowl.

Kym continues to push her brother’s buttons, “Looks like your spot as her favorite might be in jeopardy.”

Triton gawks as she teases him mercilessly.

Kym cackles at him while wagging a finger in his face, “And while you scowl like an urchin’s been shoved up your ass I’ll grow close to our baby brother and gain mother’s favor!”

Triton stares at her incredulously, “You really think you can endear the child to you?”

Kym grins at him, “Better than you can!”

Triton narrows his eyes at her, “I have no doubt in a contest for our..” he stumbles upon the word, “brother’s…affections I will win!”

Kym snorts, “You can barely call him brother!”

Triton ignores the comment in favor of taunting his sister, “You are going to lose Kym.”

He speaks with total assuredness.

Kym grins as she flicks her tails, “We’ll see about that.”

Back in the royal chambers Percy finds himself twitching ever so slightly between his parents’ hold in his sleep sensing a slight unease in the air.

The future for their newly formed family is unknown.

For now, however, they remain safe from the prying eyes of Olympus.

At a tentative peace they can only hope will remain for as long as possible. As long as the Fates allow. Together.

Chapter Text

The crashing sound of waves pounding against sand in the never ending tug driven by the divine moon fills his ears. Accompanied alongside is another familiar sound, the cawing of seagulls above in the heavens which are no doubt painted a gentle light hue of blue.

Percy hasn’t heard such noises in a very long time. Not since Smelly Gabe showed up. But he knows the origin of them well.

He and his Mama used to have so many adventures to such a place. It took a while to get there though. With Percy strapped in his carseat in the back and Sally in the front as she sings horribly out of tune to whatever song is on the radio and Percy giggles in response, terribly amused by her attempts to harmonize.

His Mama always said he has a lovely voice. Which she’d follow up by saying she doesn’t know where he gets it from.

Percy sniffles suddenly feeling very alone.

Slowly and hesitantly Percy opens his eyes.

This happens sometimes, he thinks.

He can’t quite remember the details. He never does. But a feeling deep inside him tugs that this is familiar no matter the fact that Percy absolutely does not recognize his surroundings whatsoever.

To his right is the sea. The smell of it is carried along the breeze. It stings his eyes and heightens his senses in a way that should feel startling, discomforting, and alarming. Yet Percy only finds solace in it.

Percy’s eyes dance with wonder and yearning as he stares at the sea.

Yet, a seed of hesitance blooms in a way it never has before.

Percy brings a hand up in a fist to rub at his right eye, brushing away the tears, as he questions whether or not his eyes are deceiving him.

The sea looks well…bigger?

And like super super blue. Percy has never seen it so blue!

This is as blue as the food dye he and his Mama put in their cookie dough!

As blue as a blueberry before its squished and turns into purple mush!

It’s…Percy frowns…much different from the sea he knows.

This sea is calmer. Its waves not as grand nor as insistent in their pull. Yet there’s something off about them in a different way.

Percy drops his hand from where it had continued to rub his eye once dots started to bloom against his eyelid.

Yeah, this place is weird.

The sea is super blue, no green.

It’s calmer too yet…Percy can’t shake the feeling that while the sea before him is calm for now it has the capability to be more violent and disastrous then he can ever dream of or witness.

A shiver tap dances its way up his spine coming to a sharp stop which stings the back of his neck.

Normally the sea makes Percy super happy. He could swim in it all day! Plunging underneath its surface as the sun shines brightly above casting down its rays alighting him with its warmth.

The salt never stings his eyes in the water. The waves never tug him far out from shore. Instead it feels like a game. Him getting a small taste of the sea and the sea getting a small taste of him in return until eventually his Mama strides up to the shore and calls for Percy to come on out.

Mhm, Percy fiddles his fingers together nervously, normally the sea makes him feel as happy as his Mama’s hugs.

But this sea before him now invokes no such feelings.

Like it doesn’t know him. Doesn’t remember the days he’s spent splashing around in its waves.

Percy’s fingers twist and twist until they become slippery from a hint of sweat.

Maybe it has a reason.

Even so, it doesn’t stop the immediate sadness that cascades over Percy.

Percy frowns strongly as he forces himself to turn away from an old friend turned stranger to look in the opposite direction.

Immediately Percy scrunches his nose at what he’s met with.

There’s a small stretch of little rocks that meet the sand. But it’s what past those rocks that has Percy considering he’d have better luck with the sea.

There’s lots of water in the ground. The ground which is a muddy mess, none of it appearing stable. Like one step will lead to Percy being swallowed whole by the muck just like his shows on tv have warned happens with quicksand.

Percy wonders if an anvil is going to fall from the sky on his head too.

At this point he wouldn’t be surprised.

Percy is rooted to his spot in the sand as his eyes dart over the marsh like area.

The water before him looks as icky as the water that pools in puddles along the streets of his city, filling the potholes ready to devour an unsuspecting shoe in its disgusting surprisingly deep depths.

Percy grimaces as he takes a teeny tiny minute step forward to get a better look at the place.

It goes on for way too long in Percy’s opinion. The only nice aspect is how green it is. All sorts of plants that Percy has never seen before sprout from out of the waters.

It’d be almost pretty if the water wasn’t so…brown.

Percy looks further in the distance, squinting his eyes as the sun seems to beat down quite harshly upon him, trying to make out what is past the mess before him.

Two emotions flit through Percy as his eyes come into focus.

Past the icky swamp are pretty rolling green hills. Near the foot of one of the bigger hills he can make out running clear waterfalls, the rushing water pouring from between cracks in piles of rocks embedded in the earth.

The rushing water gives way to a rather large lake. Next to said lake are two men.

Now, usually that would be enough for Percy to nod his head and firmly turn the other way. March off to who knows where. Where doesn’t matter as long as it’s away from the strange men.

Percy doesn’t like…men…or any adults really. Adults are scary, unpredictable.

With them it’s like balancing on a tightrope, hundreds upon hundreds of feet in the air, with all his weight on the tippy top of his big toe as a pile of school books rest on his head and a endless chasm of darkness lies beneath him threatening to engulf him should he make one wrong move.

And that’s the thing! It doesn’t seem to matter what he does! Sometimes he’s too loud, while other times he’s too quiet. It’s always, ‘Speak up, Percy!’ but a moment later its, ‘Calm down!’

He does know he’s always too fidgety though. He bounces his leg too much. The drumming of his fingers on his desk is distracting and annoying for the other kids, he’s told.

It always feels like he’s under constant inspection. When he’s at school with the teachers and his classmates. When he’s out on the street holding his Mama’s hand as they traverse through the packs of people.

But most especially when…

Percy roughly shoves that train of thought to the furtherest recesses of his mind. Not to be revisited preferably any time soon.

Yes, he’d usually run from strangers.

But that’s exactly what stops Percy from his usual instinct.

The main part of the word stranger. Strange.

Cause the two men in the distance certainly fit the bill for it.

One of the men looks to be on the younger side. He looks muscular and strong. Like he could pluck Percy off the ground and throw him like a football until Percy was nothing but a twinkle in the sky winking out of existence.

He has long curly dark hair, almost the same shade as Percy’s but not quite as inky black, that lays over a purple robe that rests on his shoulders billowing ever so slightly in the wind.

The man is only partially facing him so Percy can’t get the best look at his facial features but he can make out the very strange addition of a pair of horns sprouting out from the man’s head!

Percy blinks, a tad dazed, as he looks above the horns where some flowers seem to be sitting on top of the man’s head. But what’s more noticeable is the heavy golden bejeweled crown that rests about the dark curly locks befitting of a King.

Normally Percy would say the dude must be heading to one of those dress up events in a hotel or something but the whole glowy thing has him pausing.

Percy takes another hesitant step closer to the marsh as he tries to make out what could be causing the golden halo surrounding the man.

Percy tries so hard but he can’t figure it out! It has him inching closer and closer until he stops, startled when his foot meets a cold wetness.

Percy scrunches his nose in disgust as the murky water seeps into his sock.

Darnit.

Percy looks from the weird glowy man to the man beside him. This man is wearing strange clothes, the both of them are, but he at least doesn’t have horns coming out of his head nor a glow about him.

But…the kinda creepy smile the man directs at the crowned man leaves Percy feeling like a slippery eel has been dropped into the opening collar of his shirt. Progressively slithering its way around his limbs the longer Percy focuses on that face. It’s a face Percy doesn’t think has ever been put in his direction but he dislikes it all the same.

Adults are weird.

Especially these adults Percy thinks as the non-glowy man makes a big gesture with his arms to the lake like it’s some big prize or something.

Well, Percy stares at the marsh before him to the sunny green hills where the men are.

Even though they’re weird they’re his only option.

There is no one else around. Not another soul and no signs of buildings of any sort. Not even a worn traveled dirt path!

Percy tenses his muscles as he stands up straight and comes to a decision.

He’s gonna run as fast as he can across the icky water. Surely it can’t eat him if he barely touches it, right?

Percy doesn’t give himself time to think further on the matter as he adjusts his feet before making a mad dash towards the marsh.

Percy kinda sorta expects to fall face first into the water as his legs get swallowed in the icky depths of the swamp.

Yet, somehow he’s able to nearly glide across the water. His footfalls are but a whisper, barely disturbing the area.

As if his presence has little to no impact on the world’s environment.

Percy doesn’t question it, especially when he sees a yellowish blackish snake-like thing slither underneath his foot.

He picks up his pace after that with his heart in the pit of his stomach and his breathing labored.

Percy doesn’t stop running until the marsh has given way to the vibrant rolling green hills and he can hear the rushing water now so loudly it makes his ears ring a little.

Before he knows it he’s before the two men, practically crashed into them actually.

But they just prove to be even more strange than he previously thought.

Cause they don’t even react to him!

The glowy man, who Percy now can see has deep dark eyes that glimmer with hints of purple and red, turns away from Percy and creepy smile man to approach one of the rocks by the outer skirts of the lake.

Percy catalogues the man’s moves carefully. Waiting for the man to realize Percy’s existence.

Glowy-man raises his hands to lift off the golden crown from his head.

The man brings the crown in front of his lips. He whispers gently, reverently, to it, “I will be back my love”, and kisses it chastly before placing it down with the utmost care on the rock before him.

Percy blinks. Like a frog.

His brain makes that noise when the dvd player can’t process the disc inside it due to scratches littering the surface.

The man spoke in a whisper that Percy was strangely able to make out over the rushing water. But that’s not the issue. The issue is that sounded like the clearest anyone has spoken in Percy’s whole life!

Usually when people talk to him Percy doesn’t even realize they’re doing it. He’s already thinking about other things and they just assume they have his attention and thus fail to catch it which then makes Percy miss everything and the other person gets angry.

Or sometimes he tries so hard to focus on the teacher’s directions so he can remember them that the moment she’s done speaking he realizes he didn’t understand a word she said.

But that right there, the glowy-man’s words, they made perfect sense. Instantly catching Percy’s attention.

They didn’t clash together. The noise of the syllables did not distort in his ears.

Nope. Perfectly clear.

So easy to understand.

It has Percy brimming with awe and confusion.

Then before Percy can process much else the now de-crowned man turns towards Percy and creepy-smile guy.

Glowy-man nods his head, in an upward motions instead of a downward one which feels oddly purposeful in nature.

The other man speaks then, in a deeper but just as clear voice that has Percy’s mind ready to sing praises and combust in the absurdity of the whole thing, “Until your return.”

Neither of the men acknowledge Percy’s presence which is starting to make him annoyed. Percy crosses his arms and huffs while glaring down glowy-man. He’s right in front of the guy! And yet the guy stares right through him like he’s not even there.

Percy waves an arm in the air while yelping a sharp, “Hey! Mister!”

Glowy-man shows no reaction. Percy groans as he side glances the other guy who has his eyes firmly set on glowy-man.

Glowy-man who is walking closer and closer to the lake and does not seem to be stopping upon reaching the edge.

Percy stares with continuously widening eyes as the man takes a deep stride and plunges into the water of the lake.

The lake that Percy has now noticed is very dark. Percy can’t see the bottom of it at all. He sees no fish, rock, plants, nothing! Just never-ending darkness.

Percy gasps sharply as the lake swallows glowy-man whole the way Percy swore the swamp would eat him!

Percy just barely makes out the tips of glowy-man’s horns submerging into the dark lake before he’s completely out of sight. Gone. Like he never existed in the first place.

Five second go by. Five turn to ten and ten turn to twenty. Percy’s eyes are lazer focused on the spot glowy-man disappeared from. Percy’s pretty sure people can’t hold their breath that long underwater. Well, Mama can’t at least.

Percy starts to panic as it becomes obvious glowy-man is not going to resurface.

Percy whips his head around to the remaining man and squawks indignantly, “Do something!”

His blood rushes in his ears as his pulse thrums as panic begins to fully set in.

Percy’s eyes dart between the lake and the man who just stares past him. The man has a glazed over look to his eyes as he mutters, “A god indebt to a mortal. Who thought it could be…”

The man chuckles with a glint in his eye, “Good luck Dionysus.”

With that he turns heel and walks away from the lake. Away from the spot where glowy-man went missing. Away from Percy who is stranded. Stranded and now solely responsibly for glowy-man’s supposed demise.

Percy shouts with frustration and stomps his foot so hard against the earth it sends a tremor up his small leg, “What are you doing! Come back!”

But the man just keeps walking away. Percy raises a head in his direction as his voice tampers from a shout to a low plead, “Don’t go…”

Why would the man be any different than the rest? Sure usually people don’t ignore him as blatantly as the man just did. But they all leave him in the end. Everyone except Mama has.

Percy holds the thought of his Mama close as he turns to look at the dark seemingly never ending abyss of a lake.

His Mama would help. She’d dive right in after glowy-man no matter how dark and scary the water seemed.

Mama wouldn’t care. Cause Mama is the best. She’s the most brave. She always knows what to do.

And so Percy trusts her like always and rushes in to dive after glowy-man. Not even thinking of how impossible it is for a five year old to drag a fully grown man out from a watery grave.

The moment Percy’s body makes contact with the lake he’s pulled into its depths like its a vacuum in space.

A black hole that pulls and pulls at him trying to stretch every atom that makes up Percy apart.

Until it spits him out.

Percy coughs harshly as his body is slammed against a cold unforgiving ground.

The first thing Percy notices when he opens his eyes is that it feels like he hasn’t.

Opened his eyes that is.

The whole surrounding is dark and gloomy in the same way the shadows that lurk in alleyways are.

It causes a seed of discomfort to settle firmly in the square of Percy’s chest where it will no doubt be nourished to flourishment if some light doesn’t grace him soon.

Percy pulls himself off the rough ground. He can hear murmurs around him.

They’re clear but not as clear as the two strange men’s voices were.

These voices are more of a whisper. Like they don’t have a lot of strength to them.

Muttering and whispering around him.

“Find me, you must find me.”

“Burn me please.”

“An obolus, spare just one!”

Percy shivers, wrapping his arms around his waist tightly seeking both comfort and warmth.

Oh boy, what has he gotten himself into now?

The air around him feels cold. Especially in the spaces where the voices come from.

He hears voices. So many. Pleading and calling out but saying such strange things he can’t make heads or tails of what they’re talking about.

Why would they want to be burned?

What the heck is this obolos they keep talking about?

It kinda sounds like a spanish word but Percy knows a fair amount of the language and he’s never heard that word before.

A hint of gold catches Percy’s eye in the near distance.

Could it be…?

Percy pushes through the voices. They only prove to get louder from the action as if noticing him for the first time.

They chase after him, chilling him to the bone as shadows fall upon his small frame.

Percy covers his ears, grits his teeth, and shoulders onward till he’s close enough to the light he’s able to make out its source.

Percy breathes out a sigh of relief as the light spills onto him chasing away the shadows and in turn the voices.

Standing before him in all his glory is glowy-man.

Muscular, horned, glowy-man who looks very displeased. Dark purplish-red eyes narrowed in a severe manner towards a black robed man standing on a..boat?

Percy looks closer at the man glowy-man has apparently decided is public enemy #1.

Percy has the urge to hide behind glowy-man. Everything is so confusing. Nobody looks at him. No one speaks to him. No one acknowledges him.

And that’s not even mentioning how Percy sunk through a lake in order to save someone and ended up in a weird shadow realm.

The black robed man lowers his hood to reveal a bearded weary face.

Dreary-weary man looks upon glowy-man with deep disdain. As if glowy-man is a chewed up piece of gum stuck under a desk.

His voice is just as sharp, not far away like the shadows’ voices were, “I do not transport those who are not dead.”

Glowy-man smirks at dark dreary-man as if the whole conversation is some inside joke flying right over Percy’s head, “Are you saying I’m mortal then? Alive?”

Dreary-man looks like he ages an additional hundred years from glowy-man’s response. Percy’s surprised he doesn’t drag a hand across his face.

Instead dreary-man simply clicks his tongue, “You must pay.”

Glowy-man laughs heartily, yet it has an undertone of sharpness. His eyes glimmer as the smirk never leaves his face, “Payment comes from the dead and as you just said, I am not dead.”

Dreary-man grumbles irritably. With a hand holding a staff he gestures glowy-man aboard.

Percy’s mind is lingering on the word dead to the point he almost doesn’t jump onto the boat with the two.

Almost.

He’d rather follow glowy-man then be left in the darkness again surrounded by the voices.

The boat drifts a little but they do not move. Percy glances over the side of the boat where he sits curled up in the front.

The water underneath them is just as dark as the lake water was, if not darker.

Percy’s stares into its depths. The longer he stares a feeling of heaviness settles over his shoulders. A curling whisper of woe caresses his ears. Enticing him with how easy it’d be to just let go. Give up on it all. No more worries. No more struggle. No more harsh words and curses. No more bruises. No more blood.

Percy snaps out of it as glowy-man argues with dreary-man. Yelling about dreary-man not doing his one foresaken job. Whatever that means.

Dreary-man smiles a very eerie smile. He thrusts his staff out to glowy-man with mirth in his dark gloomy black eyes, “This is your own personal quest, complete it yourself.”

Glowy-man twitches. His glow intensifies making Percy shy away from its brilliance.

Glowy-man hisses out through clenched teeth, “I am a god.”

Dreary-man’s smile slips away like it was never there in the first place, “As am I, yet this is my only task. For all eternity.”

Okay, now usually when a guy declares he’s a god Percy’s ready to label them as completely insane or extremely arrogant.

Put considering glowy-man you know…glows? And has horns that are clearly part of his body? And looks like a marble statue…maybe just maybe there’s some accuracy to the statement.

Or Percy’s probably just dreaming and unaware of it, yeah problem that second one.

At dreary-man’s words glowy-man’s muscles lessen their tension ever so slightly. With a harsh movement that has Percy flinching glowy-man snatches the staff from the other man’s hand.

Glowy-man shoves the staff into the water harshly. At first it looks like he struggles a bit. As if the water is as heavy as tons and actively fighting against him. Trying to stop their passage.

But in a blink of an eye glowy-man seems to overcome the battle with the dark water and the whole boat propels at an inhuman speed.

Percy yelps while clutching the sides of the boat for dear life as he does everything in his power not to get launched overboard.

No more dips into scary water for him today please and thank you.

Dreary-man scoffs as they appear to come to a shore in an exhale’s length of time, “Show-off.”

Glowy-man simply tosses dreary-man his staff, which is deftly caught between long nimble ghostly pale fingers.

Without wasting a moment glowy-man takes off, leaping off the boat.

Percy rushes after him. Steeping onto the seat of the boat and grabbing onto the man’s shoulders for the world’s most spontaneous piggyback ride.

Glowy-man doesn’t seem to notice the new weight on his back. Not at all. To the point Percy decides it’s worth it to wrap his arms around glowy-man’s neck so he’s not thrown off from the bumpy ride as the man’s shoulder muscles flex.

Percy clutches onto the man tightly. Man…god? He did call himself a god after all and Percy’s starting to become inclined to believe him.

Even though he knows gods can’t possibly be real. Mama would have told him so if they were.

Percy subconsciously melts into the mans warmth which can be felt even through the purple robe Percy’s on top of.

Up close now Percy can see the man is wearing what is clearly a flower crown on his head. Huh. He wonders if the man-god made it himself or if it was a gift.

Glowy-man….or the god, doesn’t have to walk too far before they come before the next obstacle.

The largest walls Percy has ever seen stand before them. Dark and imposing. Radiating a finality to them. As if no one leaves their hold.

As they get closer to the walls Percy starts to hear a low growling noise from where he’s shoved himself into the safety of the god’s warm neck.

The growl kinda sounds like the growl of a dog. If a dog’s growl shook the earth and bursted ear drums. If a dog’s growl resembled something closer to a monster.

And yeah, Percy thinks as he reluctantly lifts his head from the safe space he’d found, monster would be the right word for what’s before them.

A huge beast lies in front of the one section where there is no wall.

It has three heads that look canine-like in appearance. Except for the fact that each head has a mane of snacks surrounding it. The body is dog like too but the tale is serpentine where it flickers back and forth angrily.

Percy gulps as a bead of sweat grows on the nape of his neck.

The heads gnash their sharp teeth that glint under the god’s golden glow. Perfectly illuminated to show Percy just exactly how well they can tear him to shreds.

Percy whimpers, arms wrapped around the god’s neck so tightly he should be choking from the force of it but the god shows no signs of pain.

A pleasant smell permeates the air as the god waves his hand and a pouch appears mid air along with a staff with a…pine cone on the tip of it?

From the pouch the man pulls out three glazed looking cake pastry thingies.

Percy’s stomach rumbles at the same time the monster’s does.

The monster-dog-snake thingy’s demeanour shifts as the god waves all three cakes in his hand.

“Why don’t you be a good boy and accept a peace offering, hm?”

Percy really hopes the god knows what he’s doing before they become dog chow.

Percy can hear the grin in the man’s voice, “I know Uncle doesn’t let you have these.”

Uncle? Is Percy crashing some family reunion or something?

Well not purposefully obviously. He’s in this whole mess for reasons far beyond his own understanding.

The three heads stop their snarling and sniff the air in front of them with appraisal.

Then, their mouths open one by one and their tongues lull out.

Percy scrunches his nose as he gets a full face of dog-breath. Yuck!

The god doesn’t react. He simply mutters, “Can’t believe she didn’t make an extra,” in a rather dejected tone.

Percy, in all the insanity of the situation, finds himself agreeing. If those glazed things are as yummy as they smell he wants one too.

The god lifts his pine cone staff and tosses one cake into the air. He smacks the cake with his staff volleying it at the first head. Then quickly the second and third. All three snatch it up happily chewing, savoring the treat.

The god wastes no time as he weaves past their legs as it’s dristracted, dodging snakes that attempt to strike him, and makes his way past the monster-dog and into the inner side of the walls.

Before them straight ahead Percy can just make out a large building. Lines of shadowy things that almost look humanoid stand outside of it.

The god underneath him huffs haughtily as he moves away from the direction of the lines of grim shadows, “I have no time for the judgement of fools.”

The god marches onward at a steadfast pace. Percy is just along for the ride at this point. Hoping that somehow glowy-man, that Percy had doubtfully dubbed a god, will restore them to where the sun shines.

It feels like they walk for miles until they come upon a meadow. A meadow of tall white flowers that stretches on as far as the eye can see like a corn-field.

However Percy is able to make out the shifting of shadows and the murmuring of voices from the edge of the meadow.

He has the briefest thought of, ‘Oh please glowy-man don’t—’

before they’re hastily making their way through the meadow.

Percy bristles as the chills descend upon him and the white ghost-like flowers dust his ankles.

Percy screws his eyes shut, focusing on the god’s warmth underneath him as a steadying point. He shoves his face into the crook of the god’s neck and wonders what he ever did in his five years of life to deserve this.

The god huffs as they make little progress. He snaps at a shadow that gets too close to him, “Watch it shade! I’ll drive you even more mad than your insignificant living has made you!”

Percy squeezes his eyes tighter at the harshness lacing the god’s words.
It’s conflicting. The warmth and glow that seems to promise both safety and possible death by incineration. Especially paired with the venomous snapping voice.

It appears the god is growing impatient to complete whatever journey he’s on.

Eventually the whispers fade and the flowers stop tickling his legs.

The air shifts to be the coldest yet crispest it’s been the whole time since falling through the lake.

Percy tilts his head back. He’s greeted with more shadows yet something glimmers ever so slightly in the distance.

As they grow closer a structure becomes clear. It’s dark, black imposing marble with golden accents. A castle of sorts. But Percy can’t see the top of it. It’s too covered in shadow.

The absolute opposite of welcoming. Why the god wanted to come here is beyond Percy but hey, a free piggyback ride to possible escape is better than figuring it out on his own two feet.

The gloom hangs like a mourning shroud over the area. A gloom that seems to permeate the whole place actually.

Soon they are before the entrance, two large imposing black doors with golden handles that glimmer under the god’s glow.

The god manages to take one step up the stairway until another obstacle makes itself known.

The god sighs loudly.

Percy’s jaw drops slightly.

The god’s glow is not the only source of light now. For before them stands a woman with two torches in her hands. Brilliant torches that chase away all the shadows, darkness, and gloom better even than the god’s natural glow is able to.

Percy takes in the full sight of her. Well, all three of her?

Another strange one it appears.

Although it’s hard to tell from the light of the torches if the three-bodied-woman has her own natural glow much like the god who has Percy as an unknown backpack on his shoulders.

The three woman stand back to back against each other. One woman faces them holding two torches. The woman to the left holds a sword and a dagger. The woman to the right holds an object that is constantly shifting and changing, impossible to discern.

She’s flanked by a large black dog that looks closer to a wolf.

What’s more surprising than that is the ferret like creatures that weaves around her feet joined with black snakes.

What is with this place and snakes?

Percy’s personal chariot doesn’t seem to be bothered by the woman’s three bodied appearance in the slightest.

He simply puts his hands on his hips as if her presence is a mere inconvenience.

Though Percy doesn’t agree. There’s a weight that emanates from the woman. Something dark, something old, something powerful. Not to be trifled with.

The woman simply stares them down, standing in their way before the entrance to the dark Palace.

The god cracks a smile as he says in a jokey manner, “I’d give you one of Ariadne’s honey cakes but I’m fresh out of ‘em.”

The woman does not react.

The god sighs dramatically, “Look, I’m going through these doors no matter what. Whether we do it the easy way or hard way is your choice.”

The woman’s lip quirks up ever so slightly, “No Dionysus, I believe the choice is yours.”

Oh. That’s the same word creepy-smiley dude said up by the lake.

Is that the gods’ name? Dionysus?

Percy wishes he could say it matches in his head but it doesn’t. The only gods he knows about are from that book his Mama and he checked out at the library. And they hadn’t gotten more than a page or two through it really.

The god manages to wave his pine cone staff in front of all the woman’s faces, “Fine, I choose you moving out of my way. Now.”

The woman just smiles with dark amusement.

At this the god seems to snap, “I thought you were all for mothers being reunited with their children?”

At this the amusement fades turning into something sharp. A somber serious expression shrouds the woman’s face like the drawing of a theater’s curtain.

Her voice booms with finality, “You choose to ask for an audience with the God of the Underworld, to make an unreasonable demand that may indebt you to him for eternity, to risk the wrath of Hera and perhaps that of your father as well, just to save a mother you’ve never even met?”

Yeah okay these people make no sense. All the talk about mothers is really starting to make him miss his though.

The gloominess of the realm, the somberness, the finality of it all like it’s inevitable is starting to get him. He wishes the warmth seeping into his bones was that of his Mama’s. He wants his Mama’s enveloping hugs. His Mama’s kisses that pepper his face. He misses her terribly. Her absence leaves a gaping hole in Percy’s soul.

The god’s tone is surprisingly even and composed as he answers, “Yes.”

It’s lost its mad edge a bit. Fully assured in his decision apparently.

All three of the woman’s heads nod.

The body holding the ever-changing object finally gains a solid object in her hands. An ebony skeletal like key.

She turns swiftly and inserts it into the door’s lock. The door creaks open as if it’s never before been opened. Guests being an uncommon occurrence.

The thought does not comfort Percy.

The woman leads them through the halls by the light of her torches.

They take many twists and turns. Percy blinks roughly as he swears her light illuminates skeleton’s standing at attention outside a pair of doors.

Finally after traversing through the maze of a palace the three-bodied woman knocks against a grand entry of two obsidian doors.

They open swiftly with a gust of air.

Before the god, the woman, and Percy sit two beings upon fantastical thrones.

The first that draws Percy’s attention is a beautiful woman. Her beauty being the only constant about her. For before Percy’s very eyes she flickers, changing. One moment she has inky black wavy hair cascading down her back, with eyes to match in shade, and deathly pale skin. The next the black hair shimmers to a golden-spun blonde, her skin becoming tanned and her dark eyes shifting to a shade of sky-blue.

Her appearance may shift greatly, with indecisiveness, but her expression does not.

Her head is held high, lips thinned in a stern demeanor that screams no-nonsense. Percy has a feeling she’s used to dolling out punishment with little remorse.

Her shifting appearance lingers longer on the dark pale coloring but the same hallowed bright glow encases her just like his personal piggyback god does.

Next to her however, is a void. In the void Percy can make out a bearded man, with ghostly pale skin, and dark brewing yet not necessarily ruthless eyes. He grasps a spear like object in his hand that has two points.

It takes Percy a moment to realize the shroud of darkness isn’t closing in on him, it’s coming from within him.

Hm.

Besides the man, standing at a short distance away, are three women. Well, kinda. Percy guesses they could count more as demons.

The women are dressed in black robes. Their hoods are not drawn up revealing a clump of snakes for hair atop their heads. Sprouting out from their backs are black feathery wings that remind Percy’s of paintings he’s seen on advertisements for the MET. In their hands they hold long whips, which they look eager to crackle against flesh.

The most alarming thing by far about the women however is the blood that drips from their eyes in torrents. Causing pitter patters to sound in the room as the drops of blood splatter against the marble floor.

The man sitting atop the grand throne considers the god before him. Percy crosses his fingers and toes hoping he’ll be like everyone else, acting like Percy’s not even there. Invisible.

The man’s voice fills the whole room resonating deep in Percy’s bones, rattling him to his core, as he speaks, “Tirisphone, Alecto, Megaera, you are dismissed.”

The three women appear deeply disappointed by the command. Looking sadly between their whips and the god. Seeming as if they were going to take great pleasure in inflicting pain upon the god.

They sneer at the god as they circle him menacingly before exiting the room.

Percy glances at the woman seated upon the throne again. He notes how the darkness seems to cling at her edges but unlike the man it does not originate from her. It is not her essence.

Before Percy can think too much further about how weird the two royals? before him are his god-mobile speaks up, “Uncle.”

Something bizarre happens the moment the word starts to leave the god’s mouth.

In a distorted manner two voices overlap. One familiar, the god’s rich voice spoken with resolution and determination.

Another at a much higher octave, like that of an older kid. This voice is laced with a thick dose of exhaustion and desperation. As if pleading for mercy. Yet under it there stirs an anger, a righteous fury.

As the voices overlap around the word ‘Uncle’ the body beneath Percy shifts as well.

Percy yelps quietly as the body he’s clutching drops in height drastically. The shoulders narrow. The muscles lessen giving way to a much leaner frame. And dark inky black curls obscure his vision.

Before Percy can even process what is happening the strange mystical world rights itself.

Percy once again clutches firm muscular shoulders.

The god’s familiar deep voice rings out with respectful approach, “I have a request of the highest degree.”

The King leans back in his throne, eyes sharp yet a half smile plays at his lips, “Oh? And tell me nephew, why should I consider this request of yours?”

The god underneath him straightens his stance rigidly as a burning anger sears through his form. Percy has the urge to run away in fear he’ll be turned to a heap of ash if he stays.

Yet something tells him in this instance he will be spared from the god’s wrath.

“My mother’s name is slandered throughout the land by her own kin. Her union with my father has been put into question before the masses.”

The god leans forward as if possessing an advantage as he speaks the next words, “Should you, Uncle, not understand what it’s like to have one’s union questioned?”

At this the darkness around the King swells in a cloud ready to swallow the whole room. It’s thick and smoke like. Burning Percy’s lungs and irritating his eyes much the same.

It’s like all the oxygen in the room is being replaced with pure oppressive darkness.

Just as Percy fears he’s going to lose consciousness the darkness ebbs away until it’s all pulled back to the King once again.

Percy exhales shakily. His eyes land on where a pale hand lays atop a hand with paler, longer, bony fingers.

Praise the Queen Percy’s mind conjures up half heartedly.

The Queen speaks with regality, knowing of her station and making all those in the room aware of it as well, “It is noble for a son to brave the passage of the Underworld in order to give his mother a chance of shared eternity.”

Percy’s god-mobile flinches, as if surprised by the Queen’s words.

The Queen tilts her head towards the brooding King with a sweet yet venom laced smile, “Don’t you agree dear husband?”

If the King were wearing a crown Percy is sure the Queen would’ve plucked it right off his head and spun it around her finger like a frisbee in that moment.

The King slumps in his throne dejectedly. Even so he speaks evenly, if not grumpily, “There will be a price.”

The horned god smiles knowingly, “But of course, I am prepared for anything you should ask. For nothing is a greater price than that of the well-being of my mother.”

The King raises a rather pointed eyebrow at the proclamation. He strokes his beard thoughtfully, “Very well then. I shall make a request that seeks if your words are true. Hand to me a gift you equate with your mother’s worth and I will restore her to you.”

The King leans forward with eyes narrowed, “And do not get crafty with me boy, it must be something of great value to all.”

The god whose glow appears most unnatural in the realm ponders his Uncle’s request ever carefully. Not wanting to risk his chance of elevating his mother to immortality so she may be beside him for all eternity.

Finally, the god moves, slowly in a non-threatening manner.

Percy is forced to tighten his hold around the god’s neck with his arms as the god moves to lift…the flower crown off his head?

What the heck is he gonna do with that?

Percy clutches the god harder as he suddenly kneels before the King and Queen. He offers the crown before them with both hands. His decrowned head raised with both deviance and devotion, “Accept my myrtle crown. For myrtle is a symbol of love which mirrors the love I hold for my mother. It is only right I bestow it to you for her in return.”

The King does not bother hiding his lazy grin. He turns towards his Queen nearly giddy, “What do you say dear, to add to your garden?”

The Queen’s eyes sparkle, “I suppose it will do.”

With deft yet surprisingly gentle fingers the King plucks the flower crown from the god’s hands. He inspects it, admiring its beauty, before handing it over to his wife who strokes the flowers’ petals with a pleased expression painted on her face.

The King snaps his fingers and before them appears a stoic shadow. It wiggles and flickers like that of a candle’s flame.

Percy feels the god, tense underneath him as if the airs been punched out of him.

The King waves his hand lazily, “Grasp her hand and it shall be done.”

The god moves stiffly.

Percy debates wanting to slink off the god’s back, unwanting of growing close to the shadow, but in the end decides against it.

As the god’s hand extends and makes contact with the flickering shadow a woman materializes from it.

She is as pale as snow, with long hair that drapes down her neck the same shade as the sun’s rays. She stares into the god’s stormy eyes with confusion clear on her face.

Before she can utter a word of her perplexion the god speaks in an amazed tone, as if he cannot trust his eyes in their depiction of what js before them, “It’s me mother, your son, Dionysus.”

The woman’s eyes widen yet narrow a split second later in clear suspicion.

The god, Dionysus, does not seem perturbed by the reaction, “Though we have never met in the flesh, I have longed for you always.”

He puffs out his chest as his voice mixes with pride and anger, “I have defended your name from the wretches who seek to destroy it. I have killed in your name, and I would do so again.”

The god breathes a sharp exhale of relief as he finishes his speech to his mother, “And now I have come to set you free from the grips of death. To make you a goddess by the name of Thyone so we may be together for all eternity, unlike we were in mortal life as I possess the strength to do so through my godly power.”

The women’s suspicion ebbs away into a stunned expression. Her voice wobbles ever so slightly, “But how…how did you become a god? How did you survive my own death?”

Dionysus shows little emotion as he explains the circumstances of his birth after her demise, “Father saved me and birthed me from the own flesh of his thigh in a makeshift womb.”

The mother’s lips break out into a smile that grows and grows until it looks plain painful in its stretch.

She lunges forward grasping her son’s face in her hands as she fills the room with words of praise, “Oh my son, my precious Dionysus, you have made your mother so proud. For you have avenged me. Not even Hera can be greater than I now as you were born from Zeus himself,” she laughs almost manically, “and it appears as a god on top of that!”

A dark glint dances about in the god’s eyes as he speaks with a measured tone disguised as jest, “Anything to spite Hera. I’d drive her mad in return but I fear she’s already done so herself.”

As the two embrace Percy’s vision begins to grow dark at the corners until it starts to spread, encasing his whole field of vision.

Percy has the urge to wish the god he’d accompanied for so long, Dionysus, a goodbye but he knows it’d be pointless. For the god never even knew Percy was there.

Percy allows the darkness to take him, the tether to the realm lessening as he floats in inky darkness.

As he floats there’s feelings that pull in every direction at him.

But Percy has but one request, his Mama.

Percy shifts through the tethers of emotions searching for one akin to his Mama.

Eventually he finds one very similar yet notably different. The tether screams warmth, safety, love. Yet it also is frayed and frazzled. Deeply hurt and riddled with guilt.

It confuses Percy causing a frown to grow on his face. Why would his Mama feel guilty? Is she hurt?

As worry encompasses Percy he yanks on the tether. Instantly he can hear the noise of the city filling his ears, people shouting, cars honking, ambulance sirens blaring.

His eyes fly open to a strange foreign sight.

Before him is his Mama, but she for the first time ever does not seem happy to see him. Her hair is knotted and dirty, her eyes and cheeks look sunken, and her complexion is waxy giving her a haggard appearance.

It unsettles Percy deeply making him take a retreating step back from her.

Sally opens her mouth as if to speak but no sensical words come out. Instead a garbled noise leaves her lips. Like the words are under water with Percy unable to reach them.

Percy feels a whine build in his throat as his Mama stops making the weird garbling noise and turns away from Percy.

The rejection stings, brutally.

It’s as if someone has placed their hand kindly over his chest only to then dig their fingers through his skin till they rake through, tearing through skin until they reach his heart. Grasping it with blunt nails digging into the pulsing muscle as it is ripped from his ribcage.

Except the someone is his Mama.

Someone he loves above all others.

Someone he trusts with his full heart, body, mind, and soul.

She has finally done what Percy fears most, she’s given up on him.

Abandoned him just like everyone else.

Just like his teachers.

His classmates.

His Daddy…

The pain is too overwhelming. Too much for his young mind to process. The utter betrayal.

And just like that Gabe’s sick words seep into his skin. Piercing his mind like a knife slashing through neurons.

“Guess she really doesn’t love you after all, huh kid?”

And with that it all comes back to him. The hands choking the life out of him, wrapped tightly around his fragile throat crushing his airway.

The stinging of his cheek and the blood spilling down his lip.

The pain that flays him alive as the stench of alcohol and moldy garlic permeates the air, choking him worse than the hands around his throat.

The confusion of the dark realm, the rejection from his Mama, and the abuse from Gabe proves to be all to much.

A mantra rushes Percy’s mind relentlessly.

He’s going to find me. He’s going to kill me.

No one wants me anymore.

No one will even care when I’m gone.

Suddenly Percy feels all his tethers of emotion that are connected to his core get yanked harshly.

Blinding white light fills his eyelids until he’s forced to open his eyes to escape it.

Another strange sight greets him.

Percy’s encased in what appears to be a never ending stretch of space. In front of him is a giant wall that looks fuzzy and soft to the touch. As he studies it he notes it’s full of different brilliant colors, blues, golds, greens, purples, reds. They all seem to make up an image his eyes cannot discern.

Percy jolts as be notices three women are silently working by his side where he sits sprawled on the floor.

Two of the women are on the younger side while one is notably older with grayish-white hair. They wear white robes and have pieces of cloth that somewhat resemble bandanas tied around their heads.

The woman on the far left holds a spindle from which she procures a thread. Next to her another woman seems to measure the thread in motion, licking her lips in apparent thorough concentration.

Beside her, the furthest to the right, is the oldest appearing of the three women. She holds a giant pair of scissors in her boney fingered grasp. It hovers over the electric blue yarn, coming ever so close to snipping it but never fully closing the blades.

Without looking up they begin to speak in turns.

Voices blending in one strong uniform voice.

An all knowing voice.

“Do not fear child, we will not allow you to die, yet.”

“For we have foreseen you are the instrument to mend the tapestry.”

The oldest woman speaks in a raspy voice, “You may be his and hers but at the heart of it you are our key. Our savior. Our tool to wield.”

They speak all at once in a voice that shakes the realm they reside in, “You cannot run from Fate Percy Jackson.”

Percy’s throat goes dry. As dusty as sand paper.

His head pounds with a headache behind his eyes.

His small fingers curl into fists as they shake at his sides.

For he has the profound sense, that though he may not know what these women speak of now, one day it will all become clear.

Percy opens his mouth to speak, on what he’s unsure.

Yet he is quickly drowned out by the noise of squabbling amongst the women.

The woman in the middle tugs harshly at the electric blue thread as she debates with herself, “But how long is the question, just how long?”

The woman with the spindle grunts at the yanking of the thread, “Quit your mumbling!”

The woman in the middle snaps at the one holding the scissors that are growing closer and closer to completing the final snip of the thread, “Back off!”

And with that they all devolve into a cacophony of complete and utter squabbling.

It’s disorienting.

All of it has been.

Normally Percy would wish to be held in his Mama’s arms.

But now there is no place for him in the world.

Not anymore.

Alone, abandoned, discarded.

Percy curls into himself as pure darkness creeps into his heart.

Through it all a small bead of hope lives on. Cementing its roots the best it can in unfertile soil. With no warmth, no sunlight to nourish it.

It persists.

Much the same is the Fate of the Hero.

Chapter Text

Just as the tension seeps from her muscles. Just as her fingernails no longer feel like elongating into the talons that have so freshly sliced human flesh. Just as her eyes begin to droop ever so slightly as they trace the perfect face of her baby in his slumber, a thought strikes her.

At first it’s nothing but a wisp of smoke. Barely noticeable and easily dissipated into the air. Except it grows. The smoke thickens and thickens until her mind is full with it. Unable to see anything past it as it clogs her being spreading like a curse hadesbent on consuming her whole.

In the grand scheme of things Amphitrite supposes it doesn’t really matter. Not truly. For she has her baby in her arms where he is held between her and her husband.

Yet, the thought clings in her mind stubbornly. Refusing to vacate the premises.

Amphitrite purses her lips as she tears her gaze away from her precious pearl, who is deep in the reigns of unconsciousness, to her husband who has a rather stormy expression on his face.

Never before has Amphitrite seen the god so torn. Which is saying something given Poseidon’s temperament akin to the sea he reigns.

What strikes her most are his eyes. They often change colors dancing between the green hues of the Atlantic, the aquamarine hues of the Caribbean, and the deep rich blue hues of the Pacific.

Yet now they dance between two very conflicting shades. The first so dark in color it may as well be pitch black, mirroring the sea’s deepest depths. The second a bright blue tinged with gold, such as the dawn of the sun’s gold rays upon the surface of the sea’s waters.

Hardship, despair, and inconceivable hurt.

Hope, awe, and new beginnings.

They battle for control in her husband’s eyes.

Her husband’s eyes that are so similar to Percy’s. Yet at the same time, so so different.

Before Amphitrite loses herself in them she clears her throat ever so slightly. She knows she’s gotten his attention instantly in the way his divinity shines a bit brighter even though his eyes stay firmly placed upon their precious child.

A small smile quirks at Amphitrite’s lips. She supposes she too would be completely unable to look away from Percy if she had known of his existence for five summers and was unable to gaze upon him for the duration and unforeseeable future.

Which, is the issue itself she intends to address.

The very reason why her mind is clouded with layers of uncertainty, displeasure, and above all confusion.

Her lack of knowledge of Percy’s existence until the child himself called for her out of utter desperation.

A seed of anger then settles in Amphitrite’s chest as the thought takes root. Her quirk of a smile vanishes from her lips as if it had never graced them.

The seed of anger is quick to spread its hold upon her and easily dares to bloom as it procures a maelstrom of questions. Questions, and demands.

For how dare Poseidon keep Percy’s existence from her!

How dare he lie with a mortal woman knowing the consequences of such an action!

Her talons inch forward ever so slightly. Yet her hands stay firmly wrapped around the child in her arms. The talons not daring to elongate in any way that may threaten to pierce the small child’s flesh. For Amphitrite will never harm Percy. No matter how much anger swarms her being. She will never lose sight of her purpose now in Percy’s life.

To ensure he is safe and protected, yes. But above all to ensure he is loved. To love him unconditionally while showing him a world he has been kept from.

Even her thoughts of love towards her child are not enough to quell the building storm that is soon to be fully raging inside her.

For it is her love for Percy that is causing her such grief. She found her poor pearl nearly within the clutches of Thanatos. Shaking like a tree in a hurricane’s winds. Battered, lashed against by powers much stronger physically than its own, yet still stubbornly standing.

And just how could Poseidon not tell her of the boy’s mortal mother? Of Sally Jackson? Surely he must not have feared her reaction. Just as Amphitrite had kindly received Theseus so long ago she would have received Sally Jackson and thus Percy with equal grace.

Well, perhaps after she unleashed her wrath upon Poseidon for breaking his oath on the Styx.

Amphitrite’s teeth grind together as the seed inside her chest opens its shell further threatening to unleash its bloom of magnificence. Magnificent intent to tear her husband to shreds. To admonish him for his foolishness. To show him how far he has strayed from the wisdom she knows he possesses.

The first tell at his loss of it was most certainly his agreement to make the oath on the Styx alongside his brothers to promise to never again sire a demigod child.

A cruel laughter builds in Amphitrite’s throat. Lodged firmly for now but itching to escape and break the peaceful atmosphere in the bedroom that is quickly becoming nonexistent.

What a fool all three of the brother Cronides were! Amphitrite expected as much from Zeus. Every immortal is aware of how terrified the King of the Gods is of becoming his father. Of following such a treacherous, agonizing path. Of being led by prophecy to an end that will have him laying in bits at the bottomless pit of Tartarus.

Yet Amphitrite expected better of Hades. Hades who was never quite the same as his brothers. The god of the Underworld who understands the mortal realm and the essence of their combined suffering more than any other god or goddess can hope to imagine. A god who has a whole assembly of gods and goddesses amongst him in his realm. One such goddess who he knows quite intricately. Hades above all knew the price of making such an oath. Yet he dared to anyway.

Perhaps, Amphitrite muses bitterly, she has given him too much credit for understanding how prophecy intermingles with the world as a whole. Perhaps even Hades fears the work of the Fates.

Zeus was expected. Hades was a disappointment.

But Poseidon?

Amphitrite’s eyes glow with a golden fury taking over them completely as her gaze flashes to where Poseidon is now watching her knowingly yet warily.

Their eyes lock, gold matching gold. Divinities threatening to burst.

Poseidon should know how prophecy works above all others. For it was he that had ties so closely with Delphi’s Oracle. It was he who raised the island of Delos from the sea to save Leto from Hera’s wrath. It was due to Poseidon that Artemis and Apollo were granted the safety to be born.

As such, Poseidon has a unique relationship with the two. However this mainly befalls to him and Apollo.

Poseidon knows how prophecy works just as much as he knows Apollo is the beholder of it. He watched it grow and expand under Apollo’s domain over it.

Poseidon knows there is no way to avert a prophecy. He knows the only one’s who have a choice within the lines of the prophecies are the half-bloods.

It’s an argument of their’s that has not been put to rest. And now it has only worsened as Poseidon has broken his oath and pulled an innocent life into the mix. An innocent life that Styx will no doubt go after in retribution. For in times like these no longer may the gods face exile for nine years length. They cannot afford to be divided. Not afford to be denied of ambrosia and nectar. Zeus would not allow it, not with the Great Prophecy hanging over their heads.

So instead the children will suffer.

Amphitrite had intended to question Poseidon first on Sally Jackson but instead what leaves her lips in a snarl is a harsh demand that was forever set in place due to her husband’s own choice.

Her voice pierces the air between them. Lashing like a whip in Poseidon’s direction as fury encases every word, “You must mend your betrayal to Styx!”

Poseidon’s eyes, which had been battling between blue and black, begin to settle further into the dark murky hue. His eyes so dark they mirror the eyes of his brother known for below.

Yet his lips do not dare part. For he knows her words are true. The guilt that consumed him the moment Amphitrite returned to Atlantis with a harshly wounded Percy in her arms grows and grows till it threatens to drown him in it.

Amphitrite’s being glows harsher and harsher to the point of near painfulness as the two immortals are forced to acknowledge what has settled itself upon their laps.

It is a wonder the child between the two does not break apart at the seams while caught in the conflict between them. Yet his lips do downturn. Whether engulfed by a plight of his own in his slumber or perhaps sensing the tension subconsciously that surrounds him is not for sure known. The probability of both ringing true simultaneously remaining high, however.

The water surrounding Amphitrite quivers responding to her righteous anger. For she is the sea and as such, the sea relinquishes itself to her.

Poseidon faces the onslaught with a grim expression as he removes his arm from wear it had been wrapped around Amphitrite. His arm which is now littered with ichor and burns that are in process of mending themself as quick as they were formed.

Scalding, biting words, slam forth from Amphitrite’s lips, “You are an utter incomprehensible fool! How dare you have bent to Zeus’ insecurity! For you have doomed your own child!”

Tears burst from Amphitrite’s golden burning eyes, “You have doomed our child!”

Poseidon says not a word, allowing his wife to get all off her chest. For he knows he has no one to blame for this conflict but himself.

Amphitrite’s hair flairs around her, lashing about in the water as it swats back and forth itching to strike.

Her voice does not waver in the slightest. But the lack of a waver does not conceal her hurt.

The words echo in an almost hollow nature, “Did she even know you were a god?”

Poseidon’s eyes widen at the implication in the question.

But Amphitrite does not care for his surprise, “Did she know the dangers or bringing forth a forbidden child?”

Yes, in Amphitrite’s eyes Sally Jackson failed her child. But even so it is not lost on Amphitrite the horridly difficult path Sally was set forth on. The life of a mother is riddled with trials. The life of a demigod’s mother is near impossible. Impossible to live without heartache.

Her speech grows quieter but none less deadly, “While you both were given choice, I cannot see a way in which Sally Jackson was given the full knowledge of the repercussions of her’s.”

It’s a slap to Poseidon’s face. An insinuation that he had tricked Sally. That he had lured her into the trap of loving him.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Poseidon’s voice does not boom in the space between them. Nor does it contain the expected anger it may be granted.

The only things that lay in Poseidon’s tone are truth, love, and remorse, “She knew I was a god from the moment she laid eyes on me on Montauk’s shores.”

The gold in Amphitrite’s eyes flickers, “So she is one of the sighted mortals?”

“My Queen, I do not regret my time spent with Sally Jackson. She knew who I was and our love in the months we spent together was pure”, Poseidon states with firm devotion.

Amphitrite is not appeased, “Pure as it may be you broke your word.”

Her eyes do not soften yet neither do they grow harsher with her next question which is a feat in itself, “What made you love her Poseidon? What made you risk so much?”

Poseidon’s lips thin into a hard line as he debates just how to possibly sum up his love for Sally Jackson.

Amphitrite allows him the peace to gather his thoughts only by focusing on the small breaths that leave Percy’s lips.

It is wistful, somber, and aweful in cadence, “Sally Jackson is a creature of kindness in a world that has provided none to her. She is a woman wrapped in despair who does not manage to drink a single droplet of it. She was alone before Percy. Yet, she still saw wonder in the world. Never giving up on it.”

Poseidon’s lips quirk up in a soft whisper of a smile, “Perhaps that is what drew me to her most. Her hope. Unwavering hope present in her soul where it has no right to be.”

Poseidon’s gaze moves from Amphitrite to return to Percy, “She inspired hope in me. Hope to not fear prophecy as I allowed my brother to sway me to. And,” Poseidon lifts his hand to brush a finger against Percy’s cheekbone ever so carefully, “she gave me a reason to fight again. A reason to truly live. One who may doom us all, yes. But what if instead he is to be our hope? It is this I feel my brother fails to see.”

And just like that Amphitrite’s anger halts in its continuous expansion.

Hope. The word rings in her mind as her gaze slowly befalls to the child in their arms.

Yes, she thinks as her eyes trace Percy’s innocent face unaware of the hardships ahead of him, hope is quite fitting for the boy.

Their doom or their hope. It matters not to her. She will follow him down either path. Uncaring if one will destroy her.

Poseidon speaks gently as a clear apology laces his words, “I did not tell you of Percy for I wanted to grant Sally the ability of choice. I offered her the safety of a castle in the sea but she refused.”

The admission unfortunately is no surprise to Amphitrite as she whispers in return, “And you knew I would not allow her to make such a choice. Not when it involved him.”

“Yes”, Poseidon whispers as now both of them stare upon Percy with a weight heavier than that upon Atlas’ shoulders, “I knew you would fight for him the moment you laid eyes upon him.”

Poseidon swallows thickly, “And I allowed my love for Sally to cloud the voice of reason. The reality that there was no right choice for Sally to make. Eventually, the monsters would arrive in waves and as I advised she’d be forced to send him to Chiron’s Camp. Forced to separate herself from her hope and her sole family.”

Poseidon shakes his head, “It is a choice I do not forgive myself for but nor do I regret. For I cannot imagine a world without Percy in it.”

This, Amphitrite can understand.

Sally and Poseidon may have made a wrong choice for the stakes at hand. But the truth is, it was inevitable. The oath on the Styx was never going to last for it does not follow the nature of the gods.

And if hope was born from a wrong, perhaps their is still chance all those wrongs can be righted.

Through all this reflection a truth remains.

Amphitrite knows why Sally Jackson allowed a mortal monster into her home, but she cannot forgive her.

This does not need to be spoken between the two of them. As they are in agreement.

Sally Jackson lost sight. Her love for her child was so strong that she convinced herself she could trust this love to always make the right decisions. To always see the truth. But even love has the ability to warp in on itself.

Sally’s hope and love turned against her in the end. What was clearly in front of her she was unable to see. Swamped in denial. Denial that her choice to save her baby had instead brought upon him direct harm.

A flicker of sympathy shines in Amphitrite as she imagines the scene the woman must have returned home to. And how reality has crashed no doubt upon her. The reality that Percy is no longer in her care.

Perhaps, no longer in her sole care Amphitrite considers.

After all, she promised Percy he would see his mother again.

While Amphitrite will never relinquish Percy to Sally Jackson she will consider helping the woman up from the floor she has found herself on. For the benefit of mother and child alike.

Amphitrite murmurs resolutely, “We must discuss what to do with Sally.”

Poseidon sighs like it is the hardest action he’s ever committed, “Yes, but for tonight let us rest. I finally have my child in my arms. Let us savor this.”

The two immortal parents curl their bodies around their beacon of hope as they allow a calm to once again wash over them. The conflict between them far from mended but soothed for the time being nonetheless.

Their arms stay firmly wrapped around their little beacon of hope who they swear to fight for till the end.

Their beacon of hope who has begun to shake minutely. Sweat gathering along his brow as it grows to encase the back of his neck as well.

His lips part in a silent scream and Percy Jackson’s eyes fly open as his inner turmoil faced during his slumber, unbeknownst to those that hold him, can no longer be contained.

And with that, all chaos breaks loose.

Chapter Text

Simultaneously the two immortals feel the slightest shift in the center of their cores. A nudge against their control. A nudge against their abundant immeasurable power.

A nudge that first starts like a child grasping weakly at a blooming flower attempting to yank it from the earth. Only it evolves. It lashes its hand out, crushing the flower in its grasp. Petals and stem now resembling powdered dust. And with the force of the yank not only does the flower give way but as does the earth attached. A massive mound ripped from the center of the earth causing roots to bleed and screech in their agony.

This is how Amphitrite and Poseidon feel the loss of the control over their own domain, the very waves, the Sea itself.

Scary is it in its unintentional power. Effortless. Instinctual. It takes power from two of the most ancient gods and wields it as its own expelling the immortals from their own bed.

Amphitrite can barely process what is happening as she slams against the walls of her own royal bed chamber, hearing a thud beside her as her husband does the very same.

One moment they had agreed to put an argument to rest in favor of indulging in their child’s presence and splendor. In the gift of their little hope who laid in their arms. And in the next she has found herself flung from an immense power that should be her own.

The water slices at her skin as it whips back and forth causing ichor to flow from the harsh lashing wounds. Amphitrite’s chest heaves as the pearls are ripped off her garments and the sound of the rushing sea floods her ears like it never has before. Her very being itself has been turned against her. The Sea has relinquished its ties to her and now bears the will of another. In its eyes she may now be the enemy to be led to slaughter.

Amphitrite squints towards her bed as her mind races with a thousand possibilities for the current threat. Has someone come to steal Percy from them? But surely not for no other immortal god can enter their domain without express permission.

Perhaps one of the sea gods has gone against them? Amphitrite grits her teeth as she tries to make out any and all of the shapes hidden by the epicenter of what may be called a hurricane that has been born where Percy had been slumbering.

Yet every theory she brings to the front of her mind is slapped away by the feeling of tension in her chest. Not only the manipulation but the pure loss. The loss of control taken from her before she could bare arms against it. Leaving her stumbling at a time she can absolutely not afford to. She had just promised herself she would always protect Percy! Always keep her baby safe!

Her wounds sting where ichor spills forth permeating the water causing it to shimmer with an uncanny brilliance. She knows if she is able to find the strength to advance towards the heart of the storm she may risk being torn limb from limb and shredded akin to Kronos.

This matters not to her. Not the ringing in her ears. Not the headache that threatens to cleave her head in half as it pulses with a vengeance. Not the hole expanding in her chest threatening to swallow her into nothingness. Not her own ichor which is obscuring her vision.

The only thing that matters is getting to Percy. Percy who was last in her arms. Percy who is nowhere to be found in the birth of this utter chaos. Percy who deserves so much better than all he has received in his young life. A young life that must not be stolen. A young life that deserves more than to burn bright and quick before being snuffed out for an eternity.

Before Amphitrite can lunge herself into the fray of the whipping water circulating around the bed at inhuman speeds a heavy familiar worn hand grabs onto her upper arm.

She tenses under it, hackles raised as her head whips around so harshly a mortal’s neck would have snapped from the motion. But Amphitrite is no mortal, even with her sudden seeming loss of power.

Shown in the talons that now decorate her hands, the golden glow that burns the retinas shining in her own, her teeth no longer blunt but now as sharp as a great white’s prepared to tear apart flesh, and the soft glow emitted from her skin has begun to grow in such harsh intensity one could mistake her for Helios himself.

She is a mother. A mother fearing for her baby’s life. A mother who must find her baby through the storm no matter what consequences may face her in return.

And this hand. This hand on her upper arm dares stop her?

Amphitrite bares her razor sharp teeth at her husband. Poseidon wears a stern expression on his face but Amphitrite is easily able to discern the emotions behind it.

Exhaustion, nervousness, urgency, and…Amphitrite squints at her husband with a deeply discerning gaze…and amazement?

Poseidon’s hand on her tightens as he shouts in the short space between the two of them to be heard over the constant rushing water that strikes out at them, “It’s him!”

Amphitrite yearns to strike a clawed hand at her husband. What is he saying? Must they really speak in riddles at this moment!

Seeming to sense her irritation and confusion Poseidon shouts once again, eyes shining with that amazement she saw earlier accompanied with a deep seated concern, “It’s Percy! He’s making the storm!”

Amphitrite’s growing inferno of panic, loss, and annoyance halts completely as she processes his words.

Their eyes meet and an understanding passes between them.

Amphitrite takes a deep breath that seems to rattle her core making her whole body quiver. She shouts back to her husband as the water around them seems to grow more and more in its power and the loss inside their chests expands, “Can you take the control back from him!”

For it’s clear. It’s mind boggling but it’s clear now. When she reaches out with her senses she only senses one other presence in the room. Only one other with the blood of the gods running through their veins. A presence that is freshly new but has cemented itself in her brain, heart, and soul.

It’s Percy.

No one has come for him. No one has attempted to steal him. No immortal was able to triumph over Amphitrite and Poseidon by stealing their very own power out from under them.

No. Somehow their five year old. Their five year old who has no idea he’s a demigod. No idea that he is of the Sea and thus is able to wield a degree of its power. Was able to instinctually conjure a hurricane around himself so strong that Amphitrite and Poseidon are barely able to withstand its intensity.

He took control of their own domain in a way no demigod let alone one so young and untrained should be able to.

It’s astounding. It’s amazing. And it’s terrifying.

For a power like that will attract many who will yearn to wield it for their own benefit.

Poseidon groans as a whip of the water lashes him across the chest causing a deep gash to form with ichor flowing forth in a torrent, “I can but I fear the damage it may do to his mind to lose control over it!”

It’s something Percy has never been granted. Control. Control over his own life. For he has always been at the mercy of others.

To take control from him now, when no doubt it was caused by emotional turmoil, may be the final strain on his young traumatized mind.

Amphitrite raises her hand to grasp Poseidon’s arm just like he is doing with her’s. With arms linked together they find strength in each other. Strength in their bond. Strength in their goal.

Their goal to save their child. Even when the threat is himself.

Both husband and wife grasp each other’s arms tightly as two sets of golden burning eyes meet each other.

Amphitrite’s voice booms with authority and divinity alike, “Together we will get to him!”

They will get to him through pure force. Forcing their bodies forward and opening the onslaught of pain to themselves in favor of endangering their child by taking control of their domain once again.

Poseidon’s fingers twitch around Amphitrite’s arm before tightening in an iron clad grip. He nods to her solemnly with a determination and resolve that Amphitrite has not seen in a long time.

It is mirrored in herself. The yearning for their son’s safety breeds determination, stubbornness, recklessness, and the readiness to sacrifice everything in return for his well-being.

Slowly the two gods advance towards the storm. The storm itself is incredibly compacted. Perfectly centered around where Percy lies in the bed.

The nature of the storm does not appear to be one of pure destruction. For it allowed Poseidon and Amphitrite to exist on its outskirts. Yes, it is a storm brought on out of pure self preservation.

Something set Percy off. Something must have made Percy feel irrevocably lost, abandoned, and wracked with turmoil.

But just what was it?

These thoughts race through her head as Amphitrite nearly blindly advances with Poseidon towards the eye of the storm.

Thousands of cuts adorn their bodies as they push and push against the lashing water that does everything in its power to keep them out.

Like the water itself is tired, exhausted, and sick of being let down over and over again. That it’d rather wallow in its own loneliness than risk allowing another close in fear of their ability to inflict harm.

Amphitrite feels Percy’s emotions in the Sea as it strikes at her over and over again.

His loneliness.

His despair.

His utter sense of abandonment.

His belief that he is not good enough.

His understanding that he is not earning of love.

That love will only last as a fleeting memory.

A fleeting memory that is greatly overshadowed by its loss.

Amphitrite feels tears sting her emblazed eyes as the emotions cascade over her in a torrent. She’s never before understood the sensation of drowning, until now.

Her tears are pearly white. They fall from her eyes shifting and twirling in the water as they form into pearls.

All she wants is to take her baby’s pain away. To make sure he never feels as he is feeling now ever again. For him to understand he never has to earn love and he is more than deserving of it.

He is her little Pearl. Her little Hope. He is her baby and nothing will ever change that.

Amphitrite’s mouth twists into a frown as her body trembles, struggling against the force of the water around them as it is unable to heal her lacerations. For the moment her skin begins to sew itself together another lash comes from the water to break it apart. Tearing through the seams.

Poseidon’s hand never leaves her as the both of them can taste their own ichor at the back of their throats.

The water is unrelenting. Without mercy in its onslaught. It tears and whips at them with the viciousness of a wounded animal. A wounded cornered animal that knows nothing else but violence in the efforts of its continued survival.

Poseidon grunts as it takes everything in him to not instinctually reach forward with his hand to summon the Sea back under his command. It would be the quickest way to end the wild beast of a storm that is fighting them tooth and nail. To ease the tempest and reveal his son to him where Poseidon knows he rests in the center of it all. The Tempest born from Percy himself.

But the consequence of doing such an action is not worth it. To forcefully take hold of Percy’s outburst Poseidon knows would inflict pain on the child like no other. It would tear away Percy’s last line of defenses. His instinctual powers that rise to protect him even with Percy completely unaware of them.

He hears Amphitrite cough beside him roughly as she begins to choke on the ichor streaming down her face from the repeatedly inflicted cuts tarnishing her perfect skin.

Both their chests heave with exertion as their limbs ache in protest. Their bodies are drawn taut like a bow under the power and force of the storm unleashed at them.

Amphitrite shouts with her voice nearly cracking at the volume she’s forced to produce. It is laced with a pure desperateness that the Queen of the Sea has never before bowed to, “Percy! Percy, we’re here!”

Instantly the storm reacts. The lashing water pauses in its rushing for an essential second as if considering her words. Processing them and turning them over in its grasp. Gambling whether or not to take them to heart.

The moment allows the two parents to catch a glimpse of their child. Percy’s sea green eyes are nearly completely black. A black depth outlined only by a slither of a line of gold. The child’s hair is plastered to his forehead which is encased with sweat. His legs are folded underneath himself as he hunches over while clutching his middle. As if a vessel of pain has erupted from it. His mouth is twisted in anguish. An anguish that blooms as Percy seems to make his decision to her call.

Sensing what is about to happen both Amphitrite and Poseidon rush towards Percy just as his mouth opens unfurling a monstrous, deeply pained, soul crushing scream that echoes not only through the bedroom but through the entire Castle.
It pierces their ears like a spear thrown to skewer the heart. With the scream the storm is reborn, twice as strong.

Poseidon curses under his breath as he feels the loss in his chest eat away at his being. His divinity not taking kindly to its loss of control and power.

The scream makes Poseidon both want to fall to his knees in sorrow and to rise for it to battle all those who have caused it to be born from tarnished lips.

The scream alights something new in Amphitrite. A ferocity that fills the void the loss of control of the Sea had made.

Her eyes glow with the divine as she whispers to the Sea a string of words Poseidon is unable to make out over the rushing storm. Perhaps it is a lullaby. Perhaps it is a plead.

Whatever it is, the Sea listens.

It bends to her words, but almost indecisively. Hesitantly. It bends only slightly, allowing them a narrow passage while still striking them occasionally causing more lacerations to bloom.

Poseidon is able to catch a few words as he summons his Trident to bat away at the lashes of Sea that still strike towards them aiming for their chests and throats.

They echo through his mind.

Whispering promises of devotion, love, and apologies. Apologies for all of the suffering. All of the torment. They praise the bravery shown. They praise the resilience. And they ensure their focus of the message that he no longer must carry the burden alone.

As the words flow from Amphitrite’s lips like a prayer the storm around them grows weaker and weaker until they are finally able to burst through it. Falling into the bed nearly unceremoniously. Thrown onto the surface without gentleness allotted.

They do not let go of each other as they stare at the scene before them.

Percy sits perfectly still. He is no longer hunched over in terrible pain. Instead he sits straight up. Black eyes rimmed with a tinge of gold stare in their direction. Staring not at them, but through them.

The child appears to be waiting. Listening. Granting them the chance to pull him out from the depths of utter loss one last time.

Pain blooms in Poseidon’s chest to sit alongside the newly made void. Two losses now dance around each other in solemn embrace.

Amphitrite finally releases her hold on Poseidon’s arm. The loss of her grasp is only eased knowing that she intends to pull their child back to safety.

Her lips tremble as she knows her final plea of words are integral. Integral to pulling Percy back to the present. Back to the loving home and family he now has. Out of the clutches of pure isolation and despondency. Away from the acceptance of pure loss and unworthiness.

Percy is lost in his own power. A power fully fueled by his tumultuous emotions. Emotions that threaten to swallow him whole and spit him back out as only a shell of his true self.

He needs his loved ones. He needs them. Her and Poseidon. Now more than ever.

Amphitrite’s hands hover in the water before her. Longing to reach out with her trembling hands. To steady them as they land on her child’s shoulders to pull him into a warm embrace. An embrace ensuring safety, love, and promise. The promise to never abandon him. The promise to do everything and anything in their combined power to give Percy the life he deserves. One of joy. One of prosperity. While trusting destiny to deliver them all to salvation.

Finally her hands hover just over Percy’s shoulders. Not daring to touch but making their presence known to the one just out of reach beneath them.

Percy’s head minutely tilts up as his voided eyes meet her own distraught ones.

Amphitrite has never felt so powerless. But she knows she must harness what power she does possess to save her baby from himself.

Her voice comes out incredibly soft. Akin to the gentle caress of a lapping wave against the sandy shore. It swirls around Percy, coaxing him out from his fortification. Pleading with him to consider. To consider perhaps not all is lost.
Perhaps life is not worth giving up on.

That there are still people in the world for him. A world that is not only full of the cruelty he has so harshly experienced.

Her plea is one full of unconditional love, unwavering in its resolve as she voices her love for him.

“Percy,” the trembling in her hands increases as his name is uttered like a prayer. Like that of a prayer to the gods themselves.

She bats away the continued agony of loss in her chest to fully focus on her child as the words begin to flow naturally as she voices her confession, “we love you. Your father and I. We love you so so much and we are so sorry we have not been there for you.”

The storm surrounding them begins to ease. Dissipating ever so slightly as her words seem to break through to Percy.

She doesn’t dare stop, noticing his reaction, “Nothing can ever right the wrongs you’ve experienced but I swear to you we will do everything in our power to protect you. We will never let anyone harm you again. Never.”

Percy’s lips part as they silently mouth the word ‘never’. Tasting the syllables for himself as the definition settles in his mind along with the context behind it.

Amphitrite’s chest rises rapidly as more tears gather in her eyes threatening to spill and form into the world’s most beautiful iridescent pearls once again, “We will help you. You are not lost. You are worthy of love. More than worthy of love. And nothing you could ever do, nothing that has happened or will happen to you, will ever stop us from loving you.”

At that she begins to choke around her words and her tears spill forth, “Please don’t leave us. Please come back to us. Let us show you our love and let us keep our promise. Please Percy, I know you have no reason to trust but have hope! Don’t let your hope die. Please Percy,” Amphitrite feels her husband’s hand land softly against her back as her whole body begins to shake from the force of her beginning sobs, “don’t give up. Not on us. And not on yourself.”

With that Amphitrite can no longer stop her hands from landing on the small, now shaking and quivering, shoulders of her child.

Poseidon and Amphitrite speak as one, the voice of the Sea, the voice of the divine, the voice of devotion, and the voice of love, “We love you Percy. Come back to us.”

It’s as if the string drawn taut inside Percy is allowed a moment of rest. He grows limp under Amphitrite’s hands. The moment it happens Amphitrite pulls him forward to rest against her chest. Nearly swaddled against her, she refuses to let him go.

The black depths that obscured his sea green along with the ring of gold gives way. Way to hazy eyes that shine with the barest hint of recognition as they stare up at Amphitrite’s face with pure soul breaking exhaustion.

His voice is so quiet. So weak. So hopeful yet anticipating to be struck down all the same as he utters a word that strikes Amphitrite to her core,

“Mama?”

Amphitrite smiles with relief. Even if she knows that Percy is mistaking her for Sally Jackson in his moment of vulnerability she cares not. Because Percy is finally safe. Percy has come back to them. He has not forfeited his hope. And in them he has placed his trust.

Percy’s eyes droop as if saying the singular word took all the remaining energy he had in him away.

Amphitrite raises a hand to cup Percy’s cheek and assures him he can finally truly rest, “Yes baby, I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Poseidon hovers over the two of them protectively. His heart both breaking and mending itself as a small genuine smile graces Percy’s lips and slumber takes him once more. A slumber Poseidon pleads will be much more peaceful than the last. For his son deserves rest.

The moment Percy’s eyes flutter closed and his breathing even outs in little puffs from his nose the storm around them fully dissipates. Gone from their presence like it had never existed. Its only evidence Percy’s exhaustion and the wounds decorating Poseidon and Amphitrite which have finally been given the opportunity to heal.

Amphitrite and Poseidon both have to hold themselves back from jolting as their power over their domain is slammed back into their chests with such force it feels like being crushed by the gravity of an island.

Their shoulders sag as the familiar power of the Sea is fully returned to them.

Amphitrite pulls Percy closer to her, not willing to let him go for even longer than she had first felt.

Poseidon’s voice holds a gentleness Amphitrite was unsure he still possessed as his eyes do not leave Percy where he lies in her arms, “You are right, we must help him. But we cannot do it alone.”

A new type of exhaustion settles on Amphitrite’s shoulders as she closes her eyes, focusing on the small but strong heartbeat emitting from Percy’s chest.

“Who are you suggesting?”

She’d rather not admit that she is incapable of providing her child everything he needs but some things must be treated delicately. By the hands of an expert. For they can not risk ever harming Percy with a misstep.

“I think you know who.”

Amphitrite groans as she is unable to hide her displeasure at the proposal, “Must we?”

Poseidon’s lips quirk up in a half smile. Mildly amused by his Queen’s reluctance to allow the individual to provide the desperately required assistance they seek, “Thetis could arrange it. You know she will not go ignored.”

Poseidon seems to ponder a moment, “Or we could even send Leukothea.”

Annoyance flares inside Amphitrite at the mention of the mortal turned sea goddess. She snaps out with a bit of vehemence, “No, Ino will grow too curious. Send my sister. Send Thetis.”

Poseidon sighs as he senses Triton and Kym on the outskirts of their bedroom. No doubt having had sensed Percy’s powerful outburst along with his and Amphitrite’s physical suffering.

“Three days”, he proclaims with the judgement and ruling of a King who is resigned to make sacrifice for the greater good, “we will give it three days time for the arrival and in the mean time allow Percy to acclimate.”

Poseidon hesitantly rises from the bed in order to intercept his other two children before they can bother their mother and younger brother.

Amphitrite says nothing as he rises. Too busy huddling Percy against her. Swiping his bangs out from where they dust his closed eyelids and wondering just what awaits them.

What trials. What hardships. And what Fate will grace their family now.

She places her trust in Fate and Hope as she whispers a promise to Percy that she would drown the world should he say the word.

In truth she knows he never would. For he has too much the soul of a Hero within him.

Too ready to protect those he loves no matter what may happen to himself. A self sacrificing nature that Amphitrite is sure will contribute to many of her future head and heart aches.

But so be it. She will take it all on. All that Percy is. With the return the grant that she may love him.

She can only hope Love and Hope will be intertwined in the story of their Fate.

To divert from the typical path of Tragedy Heroes endure.

She pleads with Fate while knowing this is something that may be out of all of their control.

Chapter Text

The sound greets him like a parent calling to its child. Beckoning them into their arms for a loving embrace.

It has no right to sound that way. No right to entice those emotions from him. Not something that drowns men mercilessly to watery graves. Not something that floods the land tarnishing livelihoods.

It takes and takes from the world. Yet it gives as well.

He has a feeling he’ll never have to worry about it taking from him.

Percy groans as he rubs at his eyes groggily feeling as if he’s just awoken from a long restless slumber.

His lips quirk up ever so slightly in a smile as he’s greeted with the sight of the ocean.

Its waves lap at the sandy beach softly in their tug with the land. Today it’s a stormy blue. An expansive stormy blue that stretches as far as the eye can see. The sunlight reflects off it, winking at him.

Not for the first time Percy has the urge to walk forward and let the sea swallow him whole.

He told his Mama that once. Percy’s smile slips off his face as he recalls her reaction. His Mama wasn’t happy. She told him not to say stuff like that.

Percy didn’t get it then. He still doesn’t.

What’s wrong with the ocean?

Percy can’t think of anything.

He hums as he twists his fingers together anxiously. He doesn’t take his eyes off the ocean. He knows it’s the only somewhat familiar sight he’ll see if he looks around.

He’s back. Back where he doesn’t know. He never remembers. He just knows this happens. He doesn’t know why this happens. Or how this happens. But…he thinks there’s a reason. Something tells him he’ll start to remember. Soon perhaps.

Percy doesn’t know how to feel about that. He doesn’t know if he wants to remember these…dreams of sorts.

Percy nibbles at his bottom lip, pulling at the skin with his front teeth as he considers how to proceed.

He tries to remember what last happened. But it’s all so fuzzy. He remembers…Percy’s fingers stop their twisting and go stiff…a woman maybe? But no that’s not clear enough.

Percy digs deeper in his mind calling forth his rather dormant memories. What he’s greeted with causes a shiver to dance along his spine.

Bloodshot eyes. Stale breath. An overwhelming nauseating stench. Large beefy hands. Hands that bring about only pain. Hands that show up as red marks on Percy’s skin only later to bloom into purple and blue bruises.

It’s okay though. Percy found a trick to get rid of the pretty blue and purples.

His Mama did always say baths help to make people feel better. Why she didn’t add that they make the pain go away Percy doesn’t know. But he never brings it up. He doesn’t want her to ask why Percy knows how to get rid of the pain. Cause then she’ll know about the pain. And then she’ll be in pain.

Percy doesn’t understand why his Mama married Gabe. He kicks the sand grumpily as his teeth tear into his lip drawing forth blood.

He figures it has to be a grown up thing. Something that Percy will understand when he’s older.

But a small part of him deep inside severely doubts he’ll ever understand her decision.

Percy’s pulled out of his musing by the noise of rapid footsteps. Bare nimble feet, several of them, slapping against the sand echoes through his ears. Quickly following the noise is an angry shout that grips Percy’s heart.

It’s a man’s shout. A very very angry shout. The kind of shout that is the last thing one hears.

Percy’s eyes dart to pinpoint the scene. First he sees a group of women. Seven or so. Their hair looks like it was weaved from ivy. Long and flowing free in the wind as they flee. They move more fluidly than Percy has seen anyone move. Feet falling as assured as a tree’s roots are firm in the ground. Their faces are somewhat angular and their eyes are sharp with terror.

Three of them are tugging someone smaller than them in their flight. Percy stands on his tiptoes to get a better look.

It’s a boy, he thinks. A boy with long dark curly hair that flows down his back. A crown of flowers adorns his head where two little horns peek out. The boy’s face is full with the fat of childhood while flushed from the exertion of the run. Mirroring the women around him his face shines with terror, confusion, and a brimming fiery anger.

Percy has a feeling when the boy grows up the fire inside his eyes will become all consuming to those who dare to stoke it.

But for now the boy is a boy. A child. Scared and afraid.

Percy swivels his head to catch what the women and boy are seemingly fleeing from. He takes two shaky steps back nearly falling backward in the surf.

Behind the group is a large man. His bearded face is scrunched up in fury as he swings around a sharp axe obvious with its murderous intent.

The murderous rage emits from the man in waves as he chases the party with reckless abandon shouting threats and curses.

Percy gasps as all of them continue to rush down the hilly land approaching the sea surf. They’re heading right for him!

Percy knows he should find somewhere to hide. Yet he finds he can’t move. He’s rooted in the sand. His feet turned to cement weights as he cannot help but watch the scene unfold.

Percy’s heart beats rapidly in his chest as with horror he realizes the man is gaining on the women and boy.

For the women may be swift-footed but the man’s strides are larger, closing the distance between them.

Percy’s hands fly to his eyes to cover them as the man swings the axe, catching the woman trailing farthest behind in the group. Her scream sounds like the howling wind as it filters through the tree leaves.

Percy peeks through his fingers expecting to see the woman collapsed in a pool of blood. The vibrant red of life that stains everything. Yet instead where the woman was is a small plant in the sand.

Percy slowly lowers his hands in confusion as the woman appears to have completely disappeared. No drops of blood litter the sandy beach. No sign of her demise.

Percy isn’t given much time to ponder long on it before the crowd is upon him. He yelps and steps to the side as two more woman are caught by the madman’s blade. The moment it comes into contact with them they burst into the brightest prettiest leaves and flowers Percy has ever seen. Falling to the ground in an intricate dance through the air. And upon contact with the ground the leaves shimmer into a plant.

The whole thing is very strange. Percy has a feeling the women are both dead and not dead.

The thought does not soothe him.

The group of women is down to three. The women in the front of the group has a fierce expression on her face that reminds Percy of his Mama.

She looks like she doesn’t care that there’s a crazy man chasing her with an axe. She has one goal and one goal alone.

Her eyes are fixed firmly on the sea as her feet dig into the wet sand. In her right hand she clutches the boy’s hand. Unrelenting in her tugging. The boy has tears streaming down his face. No doubt stricken by the loss of his companions.

Percy feels a kinship in that moment as he stares at the boy who is struggling to keep up with the woman who refuses to let him go. As the two of them run from a man determined to be their end.

And for just a moment the boy shifts in Percy’s eye. As does the woman holding his hand. As does the man chasing them.

The man goes from a strong muscular build to a heavy smaller stature. The axe morphs into a glass beer bottle. But the eyes are the same. The look of killing is not forgettable.

Percy cowers back, cringing as the women and boy morph back and forth into him and his mother and the man morphs back and forth between the axe wielding man and Smelly Gabe.

It’s enough to make Percy’s head spin.

He wants to help the women and boy. Even if he doesn’t know how.

He feels terribly helpless as the second to last woman is unable to evade the axe that falls upon the nape of her neck.

Percy watches as a flower petal tickles the boy’s nose, almost teasingly in a final goodbye.

The boy’s eyes glow with tears. But the woman’s resolve hardens. She scoops him up as her feet hit the water.

Air or water doesn’t seem to make a difference to her. She runs through the water like it’s not throwing the force of the ocean against her ankles.

Percy doesn’t understand where she’s going. That is until he catches sight of a figure in the distance. A woman, who looks eerily familiar, stands in the middle of the sea with open arms. Welcoming the woman and boy. As if she is the salvation they are seeking.

Scales glint off her arms. Pearls adorn her hair. They cause an itch in Percy’s mind. Poking and prodding at his memories as if he should recognize her.

It appears no one is put off by the might of the sea. Including, the terrifying man.

He wads through the ocean with grit teeth. Hands clenched so harshly against his axe that his knuckles have gone from tan to a stark white.

But the ocean does not welcome him. It batters him back. Wave after wave rises to push him away. He stumbles in the wet sand unable to find his footing as the sea unleashes itself against him.

Percy’s heart beat slows ever so slightly from its rabid pace as he watches the woman deliver the boy into the hands of the lady adorned in pearls. The boy bursts into tears as she cradles him against her chest.

The woman with pearls in her long flowing hair raises her eyes. She glares towards the man and flicks a finger toward him.

It’s as if the sea wordlessly understood her command. A wave much larger than all those before it forms. The man has no time to run to safety. He merely gawks at the ten foot wave. The ten foot wave that crashes down on him, pummeling him into the sand.

Percy watches the axe who killed so many wash up on the shore a mere five or six feet away.

The woman with pearls nods to the woman who was as swift as the wind in her deliverance of the boy to the sea. She glares momentarily at the sky. She mouths a word angrily before plunging into the sea out of Percy’s sight.

The word carries across the sea.

“Hera.”

Percy doesn’t find comfort in it.

He stands now alone on the shore. The man lays on the sand, passed out. The sun beats down on him as if its intentionally attempting to flay him alive with its rays. Percy glances to the East. Large storm clouds are gathering together in the sky.

Percy glances between the axe and the man. He doesn’t want the man to hurt anyone else with it.

Careful to not step on the newly sprouted plants now littering the beach Percy tiptoes towards the axe that lays too close to the man.

He tiptoes just like he does when he gets off the school bus and comes home. Tiptoeing through the kitchen and family room hoping to not wake Gabe from his drunken stupor.

Except, Percy never makes it to the axe.

Something, or someone, Percy thinks, appears in a burst of light. Percy only gets the briefest glance of a beautiful youthful face sneering in disgust and scorn down at the unconscious man before the axe shimmers away into nothingness.

Percy blinks as it does not rain. Yet thunder booms loudly overhead.

He looks around for the man made of light but is unable to find him.

Well, Percy doesn’t want to stay with the scary murder man. Especially not with the chance of him waking up.

Maybe the man will get struck by lightning. Percy’s heard that happens to people when they’re by the ocean during thunderstorms.

Percy doesn’t stay to find out the man’s fate. He trudges through the sand and hikes up the hill. Except, Percy falters as he makes it to the grassy area. The hill leads to a view of what appears to be a town in the distance.

The plant-life is a vibrant green. Until. Until suddenly it’s not. Percy watches in fascination as the grass underneath his feet goes from a fresh healthy green to an ashen dull brown. Lifeless.

He raises his head catching sight of the phenomenon unfolding before him. Or curse more like it.

All the plants wither. The crops on the outskirts of the town crumble. The dirt goes dry. No rain graces itself from the sky as thunders continues to boom menacingly.

Percy watches as a lightning bolt breaks across the sky. It strikes into the town. Moments after its strike Percy can hear the faintest echoes of shrieking desperate screams.

Revenge.

Percy thinks back to the boy with the ivy crown and golden tears.

This feels like revenge.

A dazzling smile that is all teeth pierces Percy’s mind making him wince.

Not the work of the boy…someone else.

As more screams and smoke begin to permeate the air Percy feels incredibly grateful as the black dark dots begin to fill his vision.

The blackness means it’s over. The weird dream is over now. He gets to go home.

Home.

Percy tries to smile at the thought of the word. But his smile has been getting quieter lately. It’s dimming. Not that anyone seems to notice.

But that’s okay. It doesn’t matter if his smile is genuine. He’s learning how to make one appear on his face anyway. Cause he knows his forced smiles bring out genuine ones in the person he cares most about.

The blackness fully takes over as Percy feels himself float into nothingness.

The nothingness does not last for long. Moments later Percy can feel an ache in his limbs and the stickiness of slumber in his eyes.

Except. He’s warm. Very warm. Like someone is holding him. And the bedsheets underneath him are so soft Percy imagines they cost more than everything he’s ever owned.

Slowly Percy opens his eyes, and freezes.

Wait…what?

But. But the darkness and then the floating always he means he’s waking up! That everything goes back to normal! Normal from…normal from…

Percy frowns as his thoughts evade him, as tangible as smoke.

Percy looks into the face which lays before him.

It’s a woman. A woman who looks eerily familiar.

Like Percy has seen her across several lifetimes.

Her eyelids are closed with long eyelashes shielding her eyes from view. Her hair looks soft to the touch. And like his Mama’s. Actually, Percy stares at her with intense calculating eyes, she looks a lot like his Mama. Like she could be his Mama’s twin. Or sister.

Percy has the urge to lift his hand to trace the shape of her face. To confirm she’s real.

It’s then Percy notices the differences. Small clusters of turquoise and aquamarine scales run along the woman’s neck. Pearls are woven into her hair and a crown sits atop her head. She looks like a Queen.

Maybe…maybe she knows his Mama? But Sally has never spoken of anyone like this.

Percy tenses in her hold as a flash of memory scratches his somewhat still hazy mind.

Gabe.

The stench.

The hands.

The blood.

His neck.

The cabinet under the sink.

The screams.

And then. And then the woman.

Percy stares at her anew as he realizes who this woman is without knowing anything about her.

She’s the one that came to him when Gabe was about to kill him. Was about to really kill him this time. She saved him.

Percy frowns as he struggles to remember what she said to him. Something about his dad? And…siblings?

Then Percy remembers she promised he’d see his Mama again. His body relaxes in the woman’s hold ever so slightly. If she said that then she must know his Mama.

As if able to hear his thoughts the woman opens her eyes. Percy thinks they might be the most beautiful eyes in the world.

They look like the sea itself. Captured in all its glory into two perfect spheres.

They look like his Mama’s eyes. Except these eyes are fleckered with gold. Deep vibrant shimmering gold that stares straight into Percy’s soul.

She stares at him with a warmth that Percy wasn’t aware a stranger was capable of. Or…that anyone besides his Mama was capable of directing towards him.

She looks at him like he’s something precious. Like he’s something that deserves to be held so gently yet firm as he is now.

Like he means something to her.

Like she cares about him.

Like she…like she loves him.

It fills Percy with a confusion that must be apparent as the woman laughs softly. Her laugh reminds Percy of the chittering of dolphins. A noise he learned when on his school’s aquarium field trip.

It makes a warmth stir in Percy. Like he wants to share her joy and bask in it.

But. But what happened with Gabe?

Where’s his Mama?

Where is he?

Percy opens his mouth to voice at least one of his questions but all that comes out is a soft, “Hello.”

It’d be rude to not say hi first he supposes.

She smiles at him, ocean eyes crinkling with affection.

Percy finds her reaction bizarre. Bizarre yet not unwelcome.

Percy’s hands are balled up in fists against his chest. He tucks them tighter into himself as he speaks softly to her, unable to look away from her striking warm gaze, “Thank you for saving me.”

The woman’s eyes flash with a thousand emotions. Percy sees wrath, satisfaction, relief, and wonder in them. They settle on a pleased note.

She lifts a hand that seems to have a particularly sharp nail attached to it to brush his bangs away from his eyes, “Of course my little Pearl. I will always answer your call.”

Her smile falters ever so slightly as she says somewhat quieter, “I just wish you had called for me sooner…”

Percy scrunches his nose up at that. Called for her?

Oh. Percy blinks owlishly as the page from his library book shines in his mind. The library book his Mama had been reading to him before bed. The one on Greek Mythology they found in the fiction section. The one that included the sea gods.

The one. The one that included the pretty Sea Goddess. Queen of the Sea. Who looked just like his Mama on the page. Who he called for in his mind when his Mama couldn’t answer his desperate pleas.

But, Percy blurts it out before he can stop himself, “You’re real?”

How can she be real?

A pit grows in Percy’s stomach. Maybe Gabe did get to him and kill him after all.

For how could a goddess from his library book, Lady Amphitrite, have saved him?

He must either be dead or suffering from the hallucinations again. But usually he only sees scary things. Scary monsters that follow him like a dog scents its prey.

He’s never hallucinated a goddess before.

A sadness dances in Lady Amphitrite’s eyes as she takes in Percy’s confusion and slight panic, “I assure you I am real darling.”

Percy frowns. He shakes his head suddenly feeling constricted in her hold, “Nu uh. You’re not real. I see you but nobody else does!”

Percy grows somewhat frantic as he realizes what this may mean for him, “And then Mama makes us move and I have to have a new teacher and new classmates who hate me just like the last ones!”

Each word causes a deep worry to settle in Amphitrite’s chest. She had expected an outburst but not quite this.

Gently Amphitrite extends her hands to cup Percy’s face. He stops his squirming as she directs him to look at her.

She smiles at him as she takes one of his balled up hands away from his chest. She smooths out his fingers until they are splayed flat and places his hand against the side of her face, resting on her cheek.

Her skin is warm. It thrums with an energy. It feels electric under Percy’s skin. Like the universe breathes with it.

Her voice does not tease, “See, I am real.”

Percy swallows thickly. He’s never tried to touch the monsters before. But he doesn’t think people can feel hallucinations.

But…but…

She hums as she keeps his small hand covered with her larger one resting against her cheek, “I know. I know how strange it is.”

Strange doesn’t even begin to explain it.

“I’m a goddess of the Sea and the Sea itself. To most I do not exist and even those that should know of me have forgotten me. But I assure you, I am real.”

Percy’s throat goes dry as his tongue grows heavy in his mouth. His words come out wobbly, “Gods are real?”

Amphitrite’s eyes shine with relief that he seems somewhat open to the concept, “Yes. The Greek Gods are real. All of them.”

Percy wants to refute the claim. Wants to assume she needs help and is not okay. That’s she’s irreversibly utterly incorrect.

Yet as Percy looks in the room around them. He quickly realizes he has no right to. He’s in a room that looks like Ariel would live in it. Entirely sea-themed. Adorned with all sorts of things made of sea creatures and shells.

Percy nibbles at his lip as he lets the warmth from her glowing skin settle him, “I know…I know Mama sees them too ya know…”

Amphitrite’s eyes flicker with an emotion Percy can’t catch before they soften.

“The Monsters”, she whispers.

Percy nods his head fervently, “Yeah…them. But…”

He trails off unsure if he’s ready to admit this to an apparent Sea goddess and Queen of the Sea.

“They’re not the scariest.”

Amphitrite’s eyes search his.

Percy mumbles, “Smelly Gabe is.”

The admittance steals all the air from his lungs. Percy sags in her hold, exhausted.

Amphitrite frowns. Her arms hold him a little more firmly as she nudges him a little closer to her.

Amphitrite considers her words carefully before responding to his secret, “That monster can never harm you again.”

Percy’s head whips up as if tugged by an invisible force. His ocean eyes search hers imploringly. Begging her to not be lying. Begging for release from the man that has made his life a living hell.

All that comes out is a croaked, “What?”

Amphitrite looks at him with the fierceness of a mother, “While other monsters still roam, he is gone.”

Percy mouths the word in amazement, ‘Gone’.

Amphitrite smiles and Percy notes her teeth look sharp enough to slice skin simply by tapping them.

Her voice is filled with retribution, “I killed him.”

Those words should startle Percy right out of Amphitrite’s arms. And if not the words than surely the sharp teeth that accompany them.

But. But truthfully it’s everything Percy’s wanted to hear. He wanted Gabe gone.

And Gabe was going to kill him anyways. Is it really all that unfair that Gabe was killed instead?

It feels…complicated.

What’s not is the relief that courses through Percy’s veins.

He’s free of Gabe.

Free of his alcoholic stench.

Free of his barbed harsh words.

Free of the hurtled beer bottles.

Free of the hands that attempted to choke the life out of him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a smile graces Percy’s face. A smile with several missing teeth. Yet those that are not missing mirror Amphitrite’s, as sharp as that of a great white’s.

Percy can’t help himself. He surges forward and wraps his arms around her neck with all the gratitude he can muster transferring from his embrace.

He whispers a torrents of Thank yous from his lips.

Amphitrite lifts her hand to card through Percy’s hair as she feels the pitter patter of tears against her neck.

From the doorway she sees three sets of eyes hovering, watching the scene.

She sighs internally, unsure if now is the best time. She just sprang it on the boy that gods are real and his abuser is dead.

Is it really the time to tell him his father is one of those gods and thus he is a demigod himself?

Triton’s eyes seem to communicate from the doorway, yes, yes it is time.

Kym’s eyes shine with eagerness and clear interest. No doubt enticed by the power she felt from the storm Percy conjured in the royal chambers not long ago.

But her husband, Poseidon, looks at her with understanding eyes. Eyes that trust her to know best.

Amphitrite holds Percy close as he trembles against her.

Well, perhaps it’s best to tell the truth after the boy has lived nothing but lies.

He deserves his family, this Amphitrite knows deep in her heart as he shakes in her arms overwhelmed with relief.

For the first time in a long time Percy finally feels free.

Free to live outside of the shadows.

With the main monster gone.

Granted, the rest remain. Waiting.

Waiting for the Little Hero to lose Sight.

Amphitrite burrows her face into Percy’s dark hair. She vows to do everything in her power to ensure Percy lives the life he deserves.

No matter what Fate demands from them.

Perhaps for once it will be kind it its verdict.

She can only hope her Little Hero will defy all that stands against him.

For all their sake’s.

Chapter Text

To say he’s worried is an understatement.

Five years. His child is only five years old.

Five years shouldn’t be enough. It shouldn’t be enough to experience such hardship. Such horrors that prove to shatter Poseidon’s heart. A heart for a long time that he had questioned he even possessed.

But now he’s sure of its existence. For it aches in its pulsing in his chest. He’s hyperaware of it. The beats that pound like a jackhammer as ichor rushes through the organ. He’s never felt so alive. So…human perhaps. So vulnerable.

Poseidon knew from the moment that Percy was born that he’d be something special. Not only to the world but most importantly to Poseidon himself.

A child whose eyes mirrored his own. A child that smiled back at him at only a few days old with all the trust in the world. Unknowing of the world that lay before him.

And yet, Poseidon cannot help but feel he has irrevocably failed his child.

Percy’s eyes, as dark Styx’s depths, unseeing and unyielding are seared into his brain.

He’s unsure what caused the outburst. The lash of power that was much too strong for a baby demigod. Sure, Poseidon muses, Percy is his child. A child of one of the Kronides possesses much greater power than that of one of the lesser gods. His power is to be expected, especially now that he resides in his father’s domain.

Yet Percy has had no training. No knowledge of his parentage nor education on his abilities.

This is what concerns him most.

For it appears his son is a little too similar to him to be good.

It’s clear to Poseidon, much like himself, Percy’s emotions vastly influence his control of his power. Which, for a severely traumatized child, will prove no doubt to be dangerous.

Percy had already injured Poseidon himself and Amphitrite. He could easily harm others with his loss of control under stressful situations. Something that is not an option for several reasons.

One being, Percy must remain a secret. It is dangerous enough to teach him of who he is. For the moment he leaves the sea he will be in greater danger than previous. As occurs for all half-bloods who know of their true origins.

Second being, Poseidon knows his child’s heart. He’s only interacted with Percy for a few brief moments but they were enough. Enough to know if Percy ever were to harm someone, even without intention to do so, especially someone close to him, it would do extreme damage on his psyche.

He’d question himself. Question if he was a monster. An uncontrollable tempest. A ticking time bomb waiting to explode. He’d learn to fear himself, which is not something Poseidon will stand for.

So, Poseidon reflects as he exits the royal chambers to intercept his elder children, measures must be taken. Measures to teach Percy how to control his powers and his emotions. For they are intrinsically tied with one another.

He is hopeful that his summonings of his planned therapist will prove to make the situation more manageable. Perhaps a strange choice but the right choice, Poseidon is sure of.

It’s a risk no doubt. To make another immortal aware of Percy’s existence. But it is a risk they must take for Percy’s well-being.

Poseidon takes a deep breath, feeling it reverberate through his chest, as he turns the corner and clashes into the two resident menaces.

As expected, they are already bickering.

Kym is waving her hands in the air with a frantic anticipation and exuberance. Clearly ecstatic and enthralled by the disturbance she sensed not long ago in the palace waters.

Poseidon’s eyes shift to Triton. Unsurprisingly, his heir appears greatly conflicted.

Confusion, concern, anxiousness, and so many more emotions are painted in his algae green eyes that notably narrow once they find Poseidon in their path.

Triton comes to an abrupt stop making Kym nearly crash into him. She hisses at him mumbling about his aire of dramatics as soon both siblings eyes settle on their father.

An uneasy aire settles between the immortals. Two suspect one holds all the answers and are readily prepared to demand to be informed of them. While in reality the one assumed to hold all truly holds close to nothing.

Poseidon does not know what caused Percy to lash out. One moment he was peacefully slumbering in his and Amphitrite’s arms. The next they were thrown across the room in his terrifying display of power through a hurricane generated within seconds. And then once the storm had passed he fell to slumber once again.

Which is a topic that has Poseidon somewhat concerned. Most of the time Percy has spent under the sea has been time he spent unconscious.

For now he allots it to the emotional toll of a close encounter with Thanatos and the physical drain of conjuring a hurricane. Though he worries there’s a deeper matter at hand. He and Amphitrite will have to monitor it. Monitor Percy that is. Poseidon doesn’t anticipate either of them allowing Percy to stray from their sight. Not with everything that has transpired.

Triton’s tails thrash, disrupting the water around the three gods. He crosses his arms across his bare chest while sporting a firm frown across his lips.

Poseidon has the urge to laugh as he’s sure he’s worn the same exact expression when interacting with his younger brother. Family truly brings out every part of one’s self.

Triton’s lips twitch noting the sudden mirth in his father’s eyes. Yet before he can part his lips to interrogate him Kym bursts forward with shining keen eyes.

Kym’s expression is manic. Some would equate it with bloodthirst but Poseidon is well aware this is simply his daughter’s happy excited face. A face he hasn’t seen in a long time, proving to draw a hint of a smile on his own face.

She speaks as quick as the wind whips the trees, “Was it him?”

She doesn’t wait for her father to respond before squealing with a mischievous glee, “Oh it had to be! The power felt so new yet familiar all the same!”

Her eyes sparkle as her fangs flash. The water around Kym spins in little miniature cyclones dancing around her frame.

She claps her hands, apparently quite pleased by the situation, “He’s so tiny but so powerful! I can’t wait to get my hands on him!”

Poseidon opens his mouth to reprimand his daughter for speaking of Percy like he is a powerful toy instead of a living breathing human being with complex emotions and needs. Yet, Triton beats him to it before he can.

Triton makes a hissing sound much like a hippocampus being poked in the stomach, high pitched and agitated, “You will do no such thing!”

Kym’s gleaming eyes darken as they turn to focus on her brother. Her manic smile melts away to be replaced by an indignant frown. An indignant frown that borders a pout. Kym appears closer to a child told they cannot have a second cookie than the powerful goddess of the violent storm she is.

She crosses her arms matching Triton’s off-standish body language, “Says who?”

Triton straightens his back as his hands twitch at his side. His voice booms with an authority that assures Poseidon he will be an excellent ruler. Too bad his speech is going against Triton’s own younger brother.

“He is a danger Kymopoleia! Why can you not see that?”

Kym’s rolls her eyes at her brother’s proclamation not finding it a satisfactory reason to have restraint over the matter that is their younger brother and the palace’s new resident baby demigod, “Who cares! So what if he is a danger? Dangerous things often prove to be the most useful in the end.”

Triton’s eyes look moments away from twitching as Kym brushes away his concerns brazenly, “Are you not aware that his very existence could be the downfall of Olympus itself?”

Kym cackles at this, unbelieving in the premise, “Oh please, one little demigod will not do in the whole of the Pantheon.”

Triton’s quick to snap back in retaliation, “Clearly you have forgotten of both the Great Prophecy and the vow made because of it.”

At this Triton’s furious eyes pinpoint Poseidon who has gone from an outsider of the conversation to the primary topic rather suddenly.

Kym hums as she considers his words, she twirls her hair in a taloned hand as she muses conspiratorially, “Well I wouldn’t mind if things were shaken up a little. The Olympians currently leave much to be desired.”

Triton appears to somewhat agree on this matter but refuses to let up on Percy, “As that may be, the child’s existence will put great scrutiny on Father and thus the sea itself.”

He murmurs sharply under his breath, “I do not need any sky gods breathing down my neck.”

Kym waves a finger in front of Triton’s face, “Ah but that’s just it! Think of how much chaos he’ll cause for the Sky gods! As one of the sea and thus our ally we could-“

Poseidon, having enough of hearing Percy discussed as a tool of destruction to be wielded by the advantaging party, allows his voice to carry deadly calm towards his children, “That will be enough.”

Kym snaps her mouth shut, even she knowing when to not press a matter and gain her father’s ire.

Triton simply let’s out a semi-defeated sigh as he addresses his father for the first time since the group clashed together in the hall, “What will you do, Father?”

Poseidon raises a weary eyebrow at the rather tame yet valid question.

“Well,” Poseidon strokes his beard as he struggles to summarize what they will do to ensure Percy’s happiness and safety, “he will remain with us in the palace of course.”

At this Kym shoots Triton a victorious grin. Triton returns the grin with a withering gaze.

Unperturbed by the two Poseidon decides to divulge in a topic that needs to be breached sooner rather than later, “…he will need teachers, to assist him in his abilities of the sea and to educate him about our world.”

Kym hops up and down in place as she waves a hand in her father’s face uncaring as he leans back to avoid being whacked square in the nose, “I’ve got his storm control training!”

Triton makes a noise that could be considered a snort, “You and control?”

Kym snaps her head around with a sneer painting her lips, ready to bite her brother’s head off for such a remark, “Excuse you! You have no idea the amount of control it takes to conjure the perfect storm.”

Triton huffs irritably, “Maybe because I’m too busy dispelling them.”

Kym waves away the comment as she grumbles, “Chaos and destruction require an exactness and grace you could never wish to achieve, conch-head.”

Triton’s face scrunches up as a wave of irritance engulfs the merman.

Before the two can resume their usual arguing spiel Poseidon tacks on something he knows will be a great point of contention, “Perhaps you and I both can assist him in the ways of the storm Kym”, Kym brightens at the proposition, “and Triton”, Triton stiffens the moment his name leaves his father’s lips, “you will teach Percy about Atlantis and all the important figures that may prove a future threat.”

It’s a heavy request. A heavy duty. Teaching Percy about the immortal Greek world that he has no idea he is a part of.

The teachings could mean life and death for the boy. From the knowledge of where to strike when under attack by various monsters to knowing which gods will want his head mounted on a pike. All of it will be integral to his survival. It will be difficult work no doubt. Seeing as Triton will most likely be starting with nothing to work with. That paired with how overwhelming the whole thing will be for the child.

Triton wants to snap at his father for suggesting such a thing. He wants to remind his father what happened the last time he took another god’s child under his tutelage, under his fin.

But Triton knows a demand when he hears one. His father will not budge on the topic of his demigod child no matter how much logic Triton presents him.

And that’s not even to mention his mother. The conversation Triton had with her recently floats in his mind causing the god to close his eyes and take a sharp breath before biting out, “Fine.”

Poseidon’s eyes shimmer with glee at the start of a chip away at Triton’s iron will to hate Percy.

He knows it won’t last long.

The truth is Triton loves children and he adores teaching them. Poseidon has no doubt Percy will easily charm Triton along the way before his eldest son so much as realizes he’s been enamored.

Triton grounds out through clenched teeth back to the heart of why they’ve all been united, “But just what in Hades was that storm?”

Poseidon can’t help the two emotions, pride and reluctance, that dance together harmoniously inside him, “Well, we do not know what caused it exactly.”

“Great”, Triton grumbles, uncaring for once of interrupting his father.

Knowing the situation at hand is delicate Poseidon refrains from reprimanding Triton for the sarcastic comment, “But yes it was Percy. He conjured an extremely powerful hurricane that resulted in both I and your mother struggling to reach him.”

Kym nods her head vigorously, “Yes! I could smell your ichor in the waters.”

Both father and son grimace at that.

Triton is quick to process the words fully as he snaps at Poseidon with anger brimming threatening to overflow, “Is Mother alright?”

Poseidon nods softly, “She is fine and with Percy now.”

Poseidon hesitates for a moment as he considers how to proceed, “I imagine she is informing him who she is…perhaps introductions of us all would be appropriate.”

Triton looks like he’d rather swallow a pomegranate seed then do as such while Kym sings her agreement.

Poseidon crosses his arms and grows in height purposefully so he towers over his children momentarily, “You are to be gentle, kind, and to follow your mother’s lead. If either one of you step out of line I will see you stripped of everything you hold dear until you earn your brother’s forgiveness. Am I understood?”

Both sea offspring nod their heads dutifully, recognizing the command as not only one proclaimed by a father but by the ruler of the sea as well.

Having made his point Poseidon shifts back to his usual size and requests his children to follow close behind hoping that he has made the right decision and that his Queen will not shoo him away the moment she gains sight of the trio’s arrival.

Percy doesn’t like crying. Not really. He always bites his lips when tears start to make his vision wobbly. Cause he knows he has to be strong. For his mama and himself. Tears don’t fix anything. They just cause frowns of disapproval from his teachers and snickers from his classmates and a call to his Mama which leaves her all worried and frazzled.

So Percy has learned to choke back the tears before they have the ability to spill forth leaving their whispering trails on his face.

Except now he doesn’t care. Because it’s so so much. All of it.

Gods are real! A god saved him!

The monsters are real! He always knew his Mama could see them too but he could never prove it. Now he knows it wasn’t his ‘wild imagination’ like his kindergarten and school counselor liked to claim. And he’s not crazy like the kids in class like to whisper behind his back.

The monsters are real. The nightmares that haunt him in the city alleyways and watch his every move like a hunter after its prey are real and dangerous.

Gods are real, monsters are real, and best of all the Monster is gone!

That fact nearly triumphs the reveal that the world of Greek Mythology is not as fictional as he originally understood it to be.

He’s so so excited! He doesn’t think too hard or linger on just how Gabe is gone. What matters to Percy is that Gabe will no longer be a permanent fixture in his house.

No more disgusting smelly boots will be thrown on the ground surrounded by empty beer bottles. No more yelling for more food and complaining about his Mama not making enough money. No more words of how his Mama doesn’t love him. Of how he’s a useless sniveling brat who’s own Daddy didn’t want him.

No more hands that hurt.

Maybe no more hurt at all, though Percy’s not sure he should be that hopeful quite yet. He’s learned not to expect too much from the world.

He can’t wait to tell his Mama that they’re free! And it’s all because he prayed to Lady Amphitrite! Who is real and looks just like Mama which is really strange to Percy but also nice. It brings a comfort about her, a familiarity.

All this rushes through Percy’s mind as he clutches the Queen’s neck while he sniffles into the crook of it. Tears escaping his eyes in a torrent as he struggles to gather himself.

The soothing hand that strokes his back repeated helps a bit. As does the sudden humming that begins. The humming reminds Percy of the tug. The tug and pull of the sea. It lulls, pulling him into its depths. Depths that promise safety and love.

Eventually Percy’s sniffles taper off, nearly completely gone but not quite.

It’s then Percy’s senses spike. He’s gotten rather good at sensing when people are watching him. It’s helped a lot to keep him out of trouble. Or at least, less trouble.

Ever so carefully Percy peels himself away from the safety and warmth of Amphitrite’s neck to stare into the open room.

It doesn’t take him long to find the eyes and oh are there a lot of them. Three pairs to be exact. All wearing different expressions.

The first pair Percy sees are a piercing deep blue that seems to sparkle with hints of black and gold. They appear eager and deeply interested, yet not in a malicious way.

Even so Percy has the urge to shrink back from them. Very rarely has other’s interest in him panned out well for Percy.

The second pair of eyes are a deep green that reminds Percy of Oscar the Grouch. Because they’re green and grouchy looking. The eyes scrutinize him with a confusing gaze. Percy tilts his head at the eyes inspecting him. It’s like the person can’t decide whether they want to help Percy stand up and gain his footing or to shuffle past him without sparing a glance at him deeming him a nuisance.

Strange but dangerous depending on which way the owner of the eyes settles on.

It’s the last pair of eyes that floats above the other two pair that has Percy freezing, going stiff in Amphitrite’s hold.

For these eyes are the eyes Percy sees in the bathroom mirror every morning and night when he brushes his teeth.

These are eyes he’s seen a million times before.

Yet they are on another’s face.

The eyes themselves are crinkled slightly. They hold a sad fondness to them. The fondness strong but the sadness unshakable.

It’s tangible. Percy wants to reach out and touch it. He wants to see why the eyes hold such a sadness. Maybe he can understand. Maybe he could even help. Percy knows what it’s like to feel helpless. Like there’s nothing within in his power to make the world right. Like there’s no point in fighting anymore.

Before he knows it Percy is fully sitting up in Amphitrite’s arms. The goddess speaks to him softly, imploring gently, “May they come in?”

Percy whispers back just as gently while not removing his gaze from those in the doorway, “Who are they?”

The words smack him hard.

“Your Family.”

Percy swallows thickly as it feels as though a piece of cotton has taken home in the back of his throat.

His chest feels like it’s spasming as every nerve in his body alights with exhilaration.

His…family?

But Percy doesn’t have a family. It’s just him and his Mama. No grandparents. No cousins. No uncles nor aunts. It’s always just been them.

But, as Percy stares at the last set of ocean eyes who have not left his own, Percy realizes he’s forgetting someone.

For there is someone that is technically his family out there.

Someone he was told was lost at sea before he was born.

Percy nods his head in a haze, granting permission for Amphitrite to welcome the strangers possessing the sea eyes into the room.

The first to enter is a woman. Percy notices her hair is long and seems to be always moving like it’s blowing in the wind. It expands around her cocooning her. Her fingers which look ready to grab him have long talon like nails adorning them. Her teeth are razor sharp where they gleam as she shoots him a…friendly smile of sorts. Percy notes the scales along her arms and neck as well as the tail instead of feet. Probably another sea goddess like Amphitrite.

The next to enter is a man. Well, a merman more like. His muscular chest is bare where his arms are crossed over it. He has multiple tails that remind Percy of a dolphin’s that flick back and forth. Kind of like a cat before it’s about to pounce.

He has a firm frown painted on his face that has Percy leaning further into Amphitrite’s hold.

Percy senses tell him the man isn’t like Gabe. He’s not dangerous per se, just not friendly. But Percy knows very well when someone does not want him around. He’s easily able to take this hint from the merman.

The merman’s eyes shine with slight confusion and his frown fades into a neutral line at seeing Percy shy away from him like he is a predator threatening to strike.

Rather eager to look away from the merman that appears to not like him, Percy’s eyes settle on the last person to enter the room.

Percy’s eyes widen as he gets a full view of the figure.

He’d say it’s a man but he knows full well it’s a god.

The god has a long dark beard on his face that looks slightly worn from years of arduous labor. His hair, which is likewise dark and curly where it cascades down his shoulders, is crowned with what appears to be a headband of wild celery.

In his hand flickers like an illusion a Trident that glows with power. Capable of smashing mountains to mere pebbles and unleashing the wrath of the sea upon all it wishes.

A cloak wraps around the man. The man who has curly dark hair just like Percy’s, though it is much longer than Percy has ever tried to grow out his. A man with eyes that look so much like Percy’s that there is no doubt in Percy’s mind of who the man is. And that’s not even speaking on the similar noses, chins, and skin complexion.

Could this be what lost at sea meant? Never truly lost at all. More accurately he was at sea the entire time. Within reach yet so far. Part of a whole other world that his Mama somehow momentarily was a part of as well. That Percy is permanently part of.

While everything Percy had learned tells him to cower away from a man that has the power and strength to destroy him, Percy’s heart and soul focus on the man’s eyes and the intentions that lie inside of him.

His smile is warm and sad just like his eyes.

He looks at Percy like he’s the most precious thing in the world. Yet as if Percy has the power to undo him all the same.

A powerful god looking at Percy like he holds his Fate in his hands.

Except for Amphitrite’s firm arms around him, everything in the world melts away. It’s just him and the god.

Staring at each other with equally sad and hopeful eyes.

Finally he dares to speak the word. Dares to extend a branch of the tree that symbolizes his growing hope. Hope that says perhaps his life does not have to be a grand display of never-ending misfortune.

Maybe. Just maybe, Percy has gotten a new chance.

“Daddy?”

Chapter Text

“Daddy?”

Hopeful yet hesitant, pained eyes stare up at him. They are eyes that resemble his own. Eyes that resemble his mother’s. Yet he has never seen them so gentle. So vulnerable. So filled with yearning while accompanied with the fear of having the delicate hope in them squandered. Squashed. The hope that lies within the ocean eyes is but a seedling. Begging to be watered and showered in sunlight. Begging for the love and nourishment it so rightfully deserves.

And how Poseidon wishes to nurture it. To foster the hope in his son’s eyes and to watch it bloom into something beautiful.

His son is so wonderous, the smile on Poseidon’s lips grows in size, and intelligent.

For Poseidon has not so much as spoken a single syllable. Has not introduced himself or explained anything in the slightest. And yet, the moment Percy’s eyes landed on the god Percy knew who he was.

Poseidon’s heart squeezes in his chest as he struggles to hold himself back from scooping Percy out of his wife’s arms. He’s always itched to hold his youngest in his arms but now the want has increased tenfold.

To be recognized by his son. To hear that address with such hope and hesitance. It builds a hope in Poseidon’s own chest. Truthfully, he is fearful for Percy’s well-being. His child has experienced the brunt of the harshness the world has to offer. Even under the best of circumstances, some are never able to fully recover from such things.

Yet the hope instilled in Percy has instilled a new hope within him. The hope that should they do right by him, they can help him. They can give Percy the life he deserves. And they will do everything in their power to make it long-lasting.

Poseidon parts his lips to speak as his eyes sparkle in wonderment, yet nothing falls from his tongue. Too many emotions war in his mind and heart to conjure the proper words.

For what are the proper words?

What are the proper words for the wonderment, joy, hopefulness, and monumental guilt that cascade over Poseidon in that moment.

The guilt eats at him steadily. Spreading its poison throughout his chest to curl around his neck, cutting off his ability to speak.

He could have heard that blessed word in his child’s voice long ago perhaps if he had been more persistent. If he hadn’t allowed Sally so much choice, so much control in the matter of their son’s life.

Maybe, no, surely Percy would have never experienced the pain he suffered under that filthy mortal scum.

And that fact is enough to choke him where he stands.

Percy’s gaze burns into him, the child fixated on the god. Percy doesn’t utter another word as he waits patiently for the god to answer his call or not.

He needs to know. He desperately needs to know if he’s not as alone in this world as he’s always felt. If this is his father before him. And if…if what Smelly Gabe has always said is true or not. Did his Daddy leave him and his mama on purpose? Did he leave him because Percy wasn’t enough? Percy knows he often finds himself in trouble but he’s always hoped that wasn’t enough for his Daddy to not love him.

Love. Did his Daddy love him? Has he ever? Will he ever? Is that a privilege Percy will one day have access to?

Eventually Percy’s imploring gaze entices speech to finally grace Poseidon’s tongue.

It’s choked out with a plea. With desperation, yearning, and dare Percy hope, encased with love, “Percy.”

It’s an acknowledgment. And the understanding solidifies between the two of them.

This god who wields such overwhelming raw power is his Daddy.

His Daddy is a god.

It’s the answer to everything yet it proves to be not enough.

Percy doesn’t leave Amphitrite’s arms, finding comfort in her presence, as the question he’s so longed to ask his father leaves his downturned lips, “Why’d you leave?”

The god looks as though he’s been skewered through with the world’s deadliest sword as the words hang in the air with great weight.

The eyes like Percy’s become so sorrowful Percy almost regrets asking the question. Almost. Cause he knows deep in his heart, even if it is a painful one for the god, Percy deserves to know the answer.

The glow around the sea god dampens. He lowers his head ever so slightly as if bowing down to Percy in a display of both apology and a seeking of forgiveness for a horrible wrong committed.

The answer is spoken with a strong agonized conviction, “I never wished to.”

The god chokes around a gasp as he stares at Percy like Percy holds the power to bestow life or death upon him, “I never wished to leave you, Percy. Never.”

Tears pool in Percy’s eyes as a weight he has been carrying ever since he learned the word ‘father’ and the meaning behind it finally dissipates.

His fears have been put at ease. Vanquished. His Daddy said so himself. He never wished to leave Percy. And that, that is enough to have Percy sniffling as he rubs harshly at his eyes as he mutters the heart of the matter into the open, “Then why did you?”

Pain courses off the god in waves. Like a mountain has crushed him and he has no desire to crawl out from beneath it to free himself. Believing himself undeserving of such freedom. Undeserving of such mercy in face of the irrevocable wrong has has committed.

The sad reality of truth lies in the god’s response, “Your mother wished for you to have a more…normal life. I offered her to stay here in Atlantis. For you to grow up surrounded by family. But Sally did not want to take you away from the mortal world fully. She feared the loss of freedom and the danger that comes with being fully immersed in the immortal world.”

A tear falls from the god’s eye as he softly says, “She knew she could never allow herself to be part of your world, so she narrowed it in a way that kept you by her side.”

The arms around Percy tense at his words but Percy fails to notice. Too enamored by the god’s voice and what it has revealed.

His Mama chose not to live with his Daddy? And why couldn’t she be part of Percy’s world? What even is his world anymore? Where does he stand with a father as an immortal god?

He struggles to make sense of it all. Now understanding it was his mother’s choice to not live with his father yet still not understanding why that led to Percy never seeing him. Is it because his Daddy is a god? Because the monsters are real?

Even so, it doesn’t erase the hurt in Percy’s soul. The absence that carved a hole in his heart. Impossible to fill no matter what methods he tried. The emptiness has always been a loud presence within him. A stain amongst several. A gaping wound that never closes.

Anger seeps into his voice as his heart aches in his chest, “Why didn’t you visit?”

It’s the first question of many that begin to rapidly leave the boy’s tongue.

He stares up at his father as if waiting to be struck. Waiting to be rejected. Waiting to be laughed at and mocked.

“Is it cause I’m bad?”

Everyone in the room flinches.

“Is it cause you don’t,” he sniffles loudly as his vision becomes fully obscured by the copious tears in his eyes, “cause you don’t love me?”

He holds himself as still as a statue while unable to keep himself from shaking like a leaf.

If his Daddy doesn’t love him Percy knows it’ll break something inside him that will never ever be able to be mended. First, his Mama in his dream, which he knows for an innate reason that he doesn’t understand mirrors reality, walked away from him. Left him. Abandoned him.

And now that his Daddy is here. Will he abandon Percy too?

Percy knows he’s bad. Everyone says so. Well except Mama. But she’s not here right now. Percy’s unsure if she will ever be again after his dream with her. If he were to turn up at their apartment, would she send him away just like his vision?

It’s a possibility Percy is terrified to face.

If Percy is bad, why would his Daddy love him? Why would anyone love something that is bad? That is tainted and tarnished. That oozes pain and is unknowing of how to reciprocate love.

Who would want anything to do with such a damaged being as himself?

While Percy knows it goes against all reason, he holds the tiniest shred of hope that his Daddy will be the one to prove him wrong. To prove them all wrong. That even if he’s bad, he can still be loved. And he knows he can be good. He tries so hard and fails so often. But he wants to be good and do good so desperately that Percy refuses to fail at it.

The water in the room begins to churn dangerously. Lady Amphitrite pulls Percy against her chest as she speaks so quickly Percy is unable to make out the words.

Oh. That’s right.

Percy lifts a hand to his throat as his eyes widen.

Sea gods.

Atlantis.

Churning water.

The son of a sea god.

Is he…is he breathing under water right now?

The thought isn’t pondered too long as Percy becomes more concerned with how the water is feeling.

The water feels angry. So so so angry. Like it wants to drown whole towns. Whole cities. The whole world and everyone in it!

It’s angry. And it’s hurt. It screams in anguish. Lashing out as it vows retribution and mourns its sorrows.

Percy peeks out from Amphitrite’s arms to the source. For he knows who is controlling these waters. He knows the source of this anger and pain. It’s his Daddy. His Daddy who grips his golden trident with a divine flame dancing in his eyes. His lips are thinned where his teeth are clenched behind them. He looks older than before. Ancient even. And horribly dangerous. He could incinerate Percy in the blink of an eye.

But past all of that, Percy can only see the deep vast sadness. Percy knows pain like this. Has experienced it day in and day out. And he wants to make it go away. For no one to ever feel such a terrible feeling. Cause it hurts. It hurts so bad. It hurts until there’s nothing left but the hurt.

Percy doesn’t want his Daddy to feel like that.

So he jolts in Amphitrite’s arms as he bursts out a frantic apology, “I’m sorry, Daddy!”

A small hiccup escapes his lips as he spills forth more apologies, “‘m so sorry Daddy so so sorry!”

Amphitrite glows so intensely against Percy he finds himself squinting in the face of her brilliance.

It’s then that Percy notices that the waters around him and the sea goddess are tranquil. As if Lady Amphitrite is keeping the sea god’s tumultuous emotions at bay where they can not bother them.

The god trembles as his hold on his trident causes his knuckles to turn a stark ghostly white.

Percy’s eyes flicker towards movement as he notices the merman who had looked at him with disdain is clutching himself like it is he who is a small child. The woman next to him, who Percy suspects may be related, has tears glimmering in her eyes. Her arms are crossed around her chest defensively. Her talons dig into the flesh of her forearms drawing forth a golden liquid from under them. They both appear so terribly pained for reasons Percy does not understand.

“Do not.”

Percy freezes as the voice booms so loudly the walls around them shake at the force of it.

“Do not ever say that again.”

Percy worries at his lip as fear enters his heart. He’s done it again, hasn’t he? He’s done the wrong thing. He always does the wrong thing. No matter how hard he tries to do what’s right.

As if sensing his despair the god gasps as he approaches the goddess and demigod, “You are not bad Percy. You are the essence of good and I love you with everything that I am. So I’m begging you,” the water begins to caress Percy’s face in a gentle motion, “do not apologize. I am the one who should be begging for forgiveness.”

The god drops his trident. Dropping his weapon and symbol of power. He opens shaky arms. An offering.

Percy’s breath quickens as his mind spins. He’s…he’s not bad? And his Daddy…his Daddy really loves him?

The sea god looks upon his son with all the love the universe possesses as he assures him, “Percy, no matter what happens I will never not love you. You are my world my Pearl and I will forever regret not being there for you when you needed me most.”

The gods toned arms shake in the water as more tears escape his eyes. His lips tremble as he pleads, “Please, give me the chance to be here for you now. I love you, my son.”

Percy’s eyes scrunch up as relief cascades over him like a tsunami. His heart hammers in his chest as adrenaline courses in his veins.

His Daddy loves him. His Daddy wants him. He doesn’t think Percy is bad and doesn’t seem to even care if he is. He says he loves Percy and that nothing can change that.

It’s more than Percy’s ever dreamt of.

Yes, the hurt of his Daddy’s absence in his life pulses in its aching. It will not easily be sewn shut. It will prove to make things difficult.

But the hurt gains a new layer to it. A layer of hope.

His Daddy wants him and Percy wants him back.

He wants a family. He wants the arms that his Daddy is offering to him now.

He doesn’t care if his Daddy is a god. He doesn’t care that the monsters are real. He doesn’t even care that it appears that all affects him based on how he’s currently breathing under water.

The hurt remains.

But so does the want for love.

With a great force, that none of the occupants in the room expect, a current of water propels Percy into the sea god’s waiting arms.

Percy slams into him. But his Daddy catches him so carefully that he lessens the brutality of the impact.

His Daddy holds Percy like he never wants to let go as his arms surround Percy fully encasing him. They feel strangely familiar. Like they’ve held Percy before.

Percy sobs into the embrace as he buries his face into his Daddy’s chest.

It’s all so much. So many revelations. He’s part of the immortal world of the Greek gods. He’s the son of the sea god. He can breathe under water. He can stay with his Daddy.

His Daddy who is crying in earnest as well based on the way his chest shakes against Percy.

Love, Percy quickly concludes as he’s held so desperately, is addictive.

It’s fulfilling. Wondrous. All encompassing. Calming. Peaceful. Soothing. And so much more beyond human language.

Percy can understand in that moment why people do such brutal things for love.

And he swears to himself, he will be good. He will prove he deserves his Daddy’s love! He won’t let him down.

He can’t let him down.

He’ll do his best. He’ll do everything he can.

And maybe one day, maybe one day his Mama will love him too again. Will forgive him.

And then they can all be a happy family.
Percy knows it’s a childish wish, a happy family. But that doesn’t stop it from being his heart’s desire.

He’d do anything for his family.

Anything and everything.

No matter what gets in his way.

Monsters. Gods. Even Fate itself.

This Percy pledges as he indulges in the love of his Father for the first time in too long. Unwillingly to leave the protective loving embrace.

Chapter Text

The scalding hot water reaches her chin as she lays slumped down in the bathtub. No lights are on in the room. The only light source comes from the small window in the corner. Night bleeds but the street lights battle it back allowing a slither of light into the bathroom.

Steam rises from the water. Her skin is flushed red in irritation from the high temperature. Her nerves tingle and shriek in protest of the abuse but she ignores them, unfeeling.

She tilts her head to the side to glance at where the bathtub connects to the wall. The faint light illuminates the bath toy foam letters that are stuck to the wall. They spell his name.

Underneath the letters a rubber ducky with a sailor’s hat rests on the side of the tub along with a bottle of bubble bath liquid.

The ache in her chest grows as tears sting at her eyes. Her fingernails dig into her thighs under the water drawing forth blood. The blood dissipates in the water, tinging it.

It switches back and forth. Between an ache that brings her to her knees and a sharp pain that leaves her breathless in the middle of the street.

He’s everywhere.

He’s in the bathtub in the foam letters, rubber ducky, bubble bath liquid, shampoo and conditioner.

He’s in the kitchen in the step stool, the lunchbox, the fridge magnets that hold up crayon etched drawings, and the blue food dye in the cabinet.

He’s in the living room.

The living room where Pistos lays untouched on the ground. Little droplets of splattered crimson stain the white stuffed seal’s fur.

She doesn’t dare touch Pistos. Doesn’t dare touch the little pair of shoes that lay by the side of the front door. Doesn’t dare to touch his bedroom door knob.

The blood still stains her living room and kitchen floors. The ashes remain in a pile.

She hasn’t scrubbed off the evidence. Even if she does grab a sponge and scrubs till her skin is peeling off her fingers it won’t matter. For every time she closes her eyes the scene stains the back of her eyelids.

The open sink cabinet. The trail of blood. The pile of ash.

The silence of it all. The finality.

A shaky gasp leaves her lips as she considers allowing herself to lay fully back. To let her head sink into the water until her face is fully submerged. To stay submerged until she can no longer stand it. Parting her lips only for water to rush into her lungs. Choking on it. She feels it’d be a fitting way to die. Self drowning in her cramped bathtub in her New York City apartment.

It’s a miracle they ever fit the thing in here. But he loved it. He always loved washing up. Like it solved all his problems.

Sally wonders if it can solve all her problems too.

Just to sink down a little further.

To make the memories stop.

The memories of the bruises in the shape of meaty fingers on his tiny wrist and forearm. The wide eyes and wobbling lips that would look to her with quick assurance. Assuring her nothing was the matter. That everything was okay.

Sally hisses as her nails dig further into her skin.

Idiot! Fucking idiot!

She is a mother!

She scrunches her eyes shut tightly as her heart hammers rapidly in her chest as if attempting to burst free from her ribcage.

She was a mother.

She saw the signs. She saw the bruises. Saw the way he’d cower. Saw the way he’d tiptoe. Heard the weak excuses.

She knew, deep down. She knew what was going on. She even confronted the monster. And the monster never denied it.

It was all right there within her grasp.

And now, there lies nothing.

She was so consumed by denial. So consumed by the desperate hope that she hadn’t let such a horrible creature into their lives.

It blinded her.

And she failed him.

Small hiccups escape Sally’s lips as her chest begins to heave as an onslaught of sobs approaches.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been. It could’ve been hours. Could’ve been days. Maybe even weeks since she rushed home from her stupid job at the candy store to find an empty barren apartment void of life.

Time stopped since he’s been gone. Since he left her.

The water sloshes in the tub as Sally’s body trembles as it’s racked with a sobbing fit. It feels as if no air enters her lungs. The harsh noise of choked wails escape her lips as her shoulders quiver.

The worst part is, she’s sure she knows exactly where he is.

With his father.

With his father she denied him from.

With his father who will no doubt never let Sally be part of Percy’s life again. Not after the abuse she allowed to happen under her roof. Not after blood has been purposefully spilled from her baby’s skin.

Truthfully, Sally is surprised the god hasn’t shown up to kill her himself.

She wishes he would.

For what’s the point? What’s the point of living without her baby? Percy is her world. Her everything. He’s the reason she gets up in the morning. The reason she works multiple jobs. The only reason she ever has a smile on her face. The reason she’s pulled into fits of laughter. The reason her heart swells with love.

He’s her reason for living. For going on in a world that is full of harsh despicableness around every corner.

And now. Now he’s gone.

Sally’s fingers twitch as a name settles on her tongue.

She could try.

She could try praying to him.

To her former lover.

To the father of her son.

To the Sea God.

To Poseidon.

She could pray to him. Ask him how Percy is. If he is alright. What will happen to him now? Do the other gods know of his existence? Does Zeus? What about the monsters? Will he be safe? Will he stay with Poseidon or will he be shipped off to Camp? Will they know how he likes his hair cut? Will they understand why he’s asking for blue chocolate chip cookies? Will someone be there to tuck him in at night?

…does he ask of her? Does he miss her? Is he angry with her? Is he alright?

Is he alright?

Is he alright?

The name dances on her tongue as her throat spams as her mind screams,

Poseidon is my baby alright!

Her hands fly out of the water to grip onto the sides of the bathtub fiercely. She gasps, gulping in air and steam.

That’s the reason she can’t allow herself to sink down into a watery grave.

The reason she must endure the pain. Endure the consequences of her negligence and failure.

For Percy.

She knows damn well that Percy was not safe in her home. But that doesn’t stop her from wishing for her baby’s safety.

It doesn’t quell the want to know if he’s eaten. If he slept well. If he needs a hug or wants a bed time story. If he needs his hair combed to untangle knots.

Doesn’t stop her from missing the weight of him in her arms. The bedtime stories they’d read together as he sat in her lap while she rocked back and forth on the family rocking chair. How they’d bake cookies together. Their walks to the nearby public park hand in hand. The visits to the aquarium. The I love yous whispered as noses are nuzzled together.

She misses his voice desperately. Sometimes she thinks she hears it calling for her. A soft ‘mama’ floats through her ears peeking her attention. Only for her to look around frantically to be met with nothingness.

But she knows he’s out there.

Out of her reach.

In a world which she refused to fully divulge in.

It sets her nerves on fire. The possibilities of his future. The danger that awaits him at every turn. The enemies that were made the moment he was born. The allies, much too few in quantity.

But perhaps with his father Percy will grow stronger. Develop his powers further. Learn truly who he is. Gain a love she knows he’s always wished to experience. The love from his father.

A bitterness stirs in Sally. She knows she deserves it but it still hurts knowing Poseidon has taken her son from her. That she’s lost the one she holds dearest to her. Now in the hands of another.

Will Percy forget her? If he does, will it happen quickly or will it take years? Will he remember her face? The sound of her voice? Will Poseidon even speak of her to him?

Sally knows for as long as she lives, she will never forget Percy. Never forget the way his eyes shift from algae green to ocean blue as they stare up at her with unwavering trust and love.

Never forget how his small hand felt intertwined with hers. Never forget his laugh. Never forget his smile with several gaps from missing baby teeth. Never forget his favorite tv shows and movies. His shoe size, favorite animal, favorite color. His love for the color blue. His unending love for her.

She knows that’s why he did it.

Why he kept it all a secret. Refusing to tell her what was transpiring between him and the monster she married.

He was protecting her. When she should’ve been the one protecting him.

Sally hoists herself out of the tub suddenly. Water spills over the sides soaking the bath rug. Droplets cascade down her body as she climbs out of the tub and stands as still as a statue in the dim room.

The name is there. The ability to know what has happened to her baby may be possible.

But does she deserve it? Does she deserve to know of his well-being? Does she deserve to reach out to Poseidon and demand answers?

With a blank stare Sally grabs a dark green towel and wraps it around her body. She opens the bathroom door and walks down the hallway until she stands before the living room and kitchen area. Her feet leave watery footprints in her wake.

She enters the living room and stares down at the stuffed animal that lies on the ground. He’s never been without it. Even when it’s time for school he shoves it into his backpack. Pistos is his trusty sidekick, never leaving his side. Perhaps the most constant thing in Percy’s life. A stuffed animal from the aquarium.

Sally covers her mouth with a shaking hand as she kneels on the ground next to the seal.

It digs at her with a vengeance. Carving into her heart making it gush blood and shriek in torment.

The question she must face. The question she must ask herself.

What right does she have to Percy anymore?

She wants to list a thousand reasons. Wants to have unyielding proof. Definitive evidence that she has the right to see her baby again. The right to hold him. To place her lips against his forehead in a soft kiss. To tell him how she can never express just how sorry she is.

But she can’t come up with one reason let alone a thousand.

Tears stream down Sally’s face, pitter pattering onto the floor.

She’s felt alone before.

Alone when her parents died in the plane crash when she was only five. Alone when her Uncle died of cancer after she did everything in her power to save him. Alone when Poseidon left her at the summer’s end.

Sally knows how it feels to be alone. The feeling of being abandoned by ones that possess her heart and soul.

But this? Losing her child? Nothing compares.

It’s like a part of her has been torn from her body and soul. And she is going mad in its absence.

She folds in on herself, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she sobs. Her lungs rattle. Her breaths are quick, nearing hyperventilation. Her wet hair falls covering her face. A scream itches in her throat. She yearns to release it. To scream at the top of her lungs. To make the very heavens bow before her and listen to her story of agony.

Yet, she swallows down the scream. She can’t draw too much attention to herself on the off chance someone is watching. She’s already endangered Percy enough. She refuses to continue to bring her baby harm.

So Sally lays down in a heap on the ground ignoring the way the floorboards dig uncomfortably into her skin.

Eventually her body gives out from exhaustion and her sobs cease.

She stares at the little stuffed seal that stares back at her and whispers with a scratchy abused voice, “Tell him I love him.”

She coughs as her throat aches from lack of water and hours of sobbing. Blood dabbles at her lip as she bites it harshly to stave off a full blown coughing fit.

She should get off the ground. Dry herself off properly. Put some clothes on. Clean the floors of blood. Dispose of the ashes. Close the cabinet sink door. Wash the blood off of Pistos’ synthetic fur.

Instead, she stays lying on the ground. Unmoving save for the slow rise and fall of her chest.

She wonders if this what it feels like to be flayed alive. Or torn limb from limb. Or hacked into little pieces that could fit through a strainer.

Her heart pulses like its cursed in her chest.

Sally closes her eyes as exhaustion washes over her with its strong pull.

She pleads silently to at least be granted the mercy to see him in her dreams before she passes out on the apartment floor laying amongst the blood stains.

She wakes to the landline ringing. She knows who it is. No one ever calls the landline. Except the school. His school.

Thoughts of picking up the phone and answering it float in her mind. Of having to explain she’s lost custody of her child. That he will no longer be attending the school.

Not that the school ever served him well. Another avenue of life that has failed her baby.

Her pinky finger twitches as she considers mustering the energy to answer the phone. Yet in the end she loses the battle. Remaining slumped on the ground as the call goes to voicemail.

She doubts she’ll have to lift a finger. For them all to forget.

The Mist will no doubt work its magic.

Work its magic in erasing the connection between her and her baby.

They’ll have no idea why her eyes remain hollow. Why she looks like a husk of a human being. Lost. For that’s what she is.

She’s lost.

Sally closes her eyes as the phone stays silent and wills slumber to take her away from this living nightmare.

The next time she wakes, she’s laying in his bed.

Immediately guilt wracks her frame. She must’ve entered his room and crawled into his bed during one of her many crying fits which leave her mind hazy and her limbs tingly.

His scent encases her causing tears to form in her eyes. Carefully, ever so carefully as to not disturb the room further, Sally lifts herself off the bed and begins to stumble toward his bedroom door to make a swift retreat.

She almost makes it without trouble. Without moving things. Without looking at the space which once held so much joy and love. But pain as well.

She stumbles, nearly falling flat on her face, as her foot snags the edge of the nightstand. A thumping noise sounds as something from the nightstand slams to the ground.

On instinct Sally reaches for the lamp side light and switches it on to reveal what she knocked over.

Her heart skips a beat at what her eyes find before her.

It’s the Greek Mythology book Percy had picked out from the library. The one they had just started reading.

Her eyes flit over the pages, noting what page the book had opened to upon its fall from the nightstand.

The name burns into her eyes.

Hestia.

Below the name of the goddess it reads, ‘Goddess of Hearth, Home, & Altar’.

Home.

Family.

A choked laugh leaves Sally’s lips at the cruelness.

Is this the Fates themselves mocking her? Displaying the goddess of family before her?

The goddess of the very realm which she has failed at?

It’s cruel.

Sally stares at the illustration of Hestia stoking the flame of the hearth of the gods.

It’s cruel, yet enticing.

The idea to be able to finally speak to someone about her loss. Her failure. Her desperation to see her baby once more.

Sally mouths the name quietly, ‘Hestia’.

She’s not known to be a harsh god. Nor a meddling one. Although, not much is known of her in general.

Sally considers. She considers before abruptly bending down and slamming the book harshly shut.

Her nostrils flare as she places the book back on the nightstand facing down and nearly runs out of the room.

She catches herself from slamming the door. Instead she shuts it gently before slumping against it. Her head hangs in her lap.

Patience. She must be patient.

Hopeful too, she knows. But hope is a tall order at the moment.

Being alive is her main goal. Living long enough to see her son again. Even if the effort grows harder as each day goes by without him.

Sally rubs away at the tears in her eyes that seem to be never ending as the name of the goddess flows unwanted in her head.

She bats it away as she shakily exhales.

The only name she cares about. The only name she’d devote herself fully to. The only name she’d pray to for salvation falls from her lips in a steady stream, “Percy, Percy, Percy, Percy, Percy…”

She mumbles his name between her lips like a prayer as she sits alone in the hallway in a hell of her own making.