Chapter Text
Whip.
Crack.
Whip.
Crunch.
Whip.
Crash.
13 year-old Percy Jackson closed his eyes as tight as he could and plugged his ears. It was all he could do to shut out the sounds of his mother, Sally, being brutally, unfairly beaten by her husband - Percy’s stepfather, Gabe Ugliano. However, even from Percy’s room, with his eyes shut and ears covered, her groans of pain reached him. He could hear her pain - almost feel it himself, and it was killing him to sit and do nothing. He knew he shouldn't interfere - he’d done so before, and unfortunately, Gabe was bigger and stronger than him - and thus, his interference had only resulted in a worse beating, both for him and his mother.
Pain was nothing new to Percy. The bruises on his arms from school fights had faded long ago, and the sting of Gabe’s belt was just another echo. But this - this was different. The fear in his mother’s eyes burned into him. His mother didn’t deserve anything of this sort - she was an angel. The most caring, hardworking woman Percy believed could ever exist. She did everything for him; even Gabe came into their lives because she’d thought his money could get Percy into a better living situation. Now, Percy almost chuckled bitterly at that thought - Gabe had spiralled into gambling and alcoholism the second those vows were spoken. Any money he might’ve had was now gone, and Sally had to work multiple jobs to keep three people afloat.
Crash.
That one was particularly loud. Percy glanced towards his door, and stood up, unplugging his ears. Maybe…
“Please, don’t! GABE, PLEASE!”
That was all it took. Percy sprinted to his door, yanking it open, and ran down the hall to the living room, where Gabe and Sally would surely be…
And the scene he ran into was nothing short of horrific. Broken glass everywhere, blood on the carpet and furniture, ripped clothes discarded on the floor. And at the centre of it all, Gabe Ugliano, standing imposingly over his mother, belt in one hand, half broken beer bottle in the other.
Percy noticed quickly how bad of a shape his mother looked to be in. Her nose was bent to the side, blood leaking from the nostrils. Her eyes were full of fear, black and swollen, and there seemed to be too much blood on the ground around her. It couldn’t just be from that broken nose.
Percy’d never seen it this bad before - though he knew Gabe had been getting progressively worse recently, as money got tighter and tighter, reducing his access to alcohol and gambling. The disgusting man must’ve heard Percy enter, as after a few seconds of him staring at the scene in shock, Gabe turned to address him.
“Thought I told’ya to stay in yer room, boy,” Gabe slurred, stumbling towards him. Percy gulped, and glanced at his mother - who hadn’t moved at all.
He looked a little closer, and suddenly the amount of blood on the floor made a lot more sense. Sally was bleeding from multiple spots on her stomach and chest. Percy couldn’t see quite how bad the wounds were, as what was left of her shirt partially covered them, but he knew they must be terrible - the blood on the floor said enough. He had to get her to a hospital.
With that singular goal in mind, Percy deftly sidestepped Gabe, who was still walking towards him, and quickly reached his mother, kneeling to address her. He grabbed her by the face, uncaring of the blood it was soaked in, of the way it creeped under his fingernails, warm and sticky, of the metallic smell, of the pain it implied - she just had to be okay.
“Mom,” he whispered. “Mom, can you get up? We have to-”
SMASH.
Percy felt a terrible, sharp pain hit the back of his head, and he collapsed to the floor beside his mother as his ears began to ring.
“Did’ya not listen to me, boy? I said GO BACK TO YER ROOM.” Gabe yelled, but Percy was too disoriented to even think of obeying - and Gabe was too drunk to care.
Gabe picked Percy up by the collar of his shirt, and threw him into the side of a couch - which didn’t hurt much, because, well, it was a couch - but when he followed it up with repeated whips, Percy couldn’t do anything but sit there and take it. Pain like he’d never felt before, despite his previous beatings, shot through all different parts of his body. He couldn’t even move to protect himself - and yet, at that moment, all he worried about was his mother. He turned his head just barely in her direction - and she was lying, motionless, on the cold floor.
Instantly, Percy knew. He wasn’t stupid. She hadn’t been responsive earlier, and that amount of blood… but he didn’t want to acknowledge what had happened. He finally felt some adrenaline, fuelled by rage and hatred for Gabe, and stood up whilst Gabe caught his breath between whips. Percy through a punch at Gabe’s fat beer belly and - nothing. Gabe didn’t even react. It was as though a flea had landed on him. Percy had been beaten too thoroughly already to gather up enough strength for walking, let alone to throw a proper punch - and Gave recognized this, but that wouldn’t stop him from putting Percy in his place.
“What the hell d'you think you’re trying, you BITCH,” he spat, “your whore mother took it as she should, without tryna play any stupid games. Why don’t you follow her example, huh?”
“Don’t call her that,” Percy managed to reply, though his vision was blurred with tears and his mouth felt as though it was full of glue. He had never felt so helpless - so useless - so powerless - so weak.
Gabe grinned. “I’ll call her whatever the hell I wanna,” and with that, hit Percy above the head one last time, causing him to fall, hitting his neck on the side of a coffee table, and fading all to black.
—————————————————————————
The Fates suddenly felt a major disturbance. A string of fate, cut off before it could fully weave its way. A soul, ready to leave… before it’s due time. Collectively, they teleported into the apartment of the Child of Prophecy - only to find him lying on the floor, surely dead. His mother wasn’t far away, and she’d evidently also met a similar fate.
Due to a war between Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades - one over their silly little arguments of who should hold the throne - Olympus had been struggling during the last 4 years. Perseus Jackson had been supposed to become a part of Greek society 2 years ago by this point, but his integration was delayed as Chiron was forced to leave Camp Half-Blood to engage in negotiations between the gods.
The Fates didn’t mind when things became delayed. The Fates minded when things became altered. There is a framework set for those born into this world to follow - and it mustn’t be exact, but all have a role. It is to prevent chaos, to keep order. And the loss of Perseus Jackson - it was not a good omen.
Something must be done. Perseus’ soul must not reach Hades - not yet.
The Fates met one another’s gazes, and nodded. Percy’s body, still containing his soul, began to float at their wish, and they went to a land not reached by the influence of Olympus.