Chapter Text
We are overlapping and wound barbed wire
Razer sharp and cold
We are wool that is twisted and knotted
Itching and useless
Threads of fate destined to cross and cut
And too snarled to make sense of who we are or how to be.
May my hands bleed if it means I untangle you.
Poseidon stood listening to the city, muffled in the dingy hallway. Cars, and people, thousands of them all milling together to create this city his son was so fond of. He’d never much cared for it. The air was smoggy, the water rancid and the people–they didn’t call for his favor. Yet he knew, standing in this hallway–that there was nowhere else he would rather be. No pink sanded beaches, no mystic caverns deep in the depths where blue was black, no crimson wine wave drew him more. Knowing that didn’t make him any more at ease.
He eyed the apartment before him, something akin to fear in his gut. He didn’t fear its occupants or danger. He didn’t even fear his reception. He feared being a disappointment. They–the occupants–deserved anything and everything. Palaces, honor, feasts and displays to their glory and sacrifice–none of it would be enough or what they wanted. He reflected on the days of old where gifts were laurels, blood spilt in another’s honor and feasts that lasted days and nights. Poseidon knew that now was a better, gentler, and more peaceful time for the world. But that didn’t make this easier. He could call for all of that. He could wave his hand and make all of that easily happen. Now those things didn’t matter, they did nothing. He quietly wondered if they ever really had. All those children he’d thought he’d honored…maybe they too would have wanted something else. He pushed the haunting thought aside.
What they did or might want, Poseidon feared he couldn’t give. He couldn’t change all the pain that lived in that apartment. He knew he had been standing there too long–but he didn’t want to move yet. Instead he took it all in. The greige walls and wear worn carpet squares were oppressive. The line of doors on the hallway were the only splashes of color. But it wasn’t the wreaths or wooden initials hanging intermittently that made his heart lurch.
Their door was slightly worn around the edges, as if years upon years worth of hands had brushed over the paint leaving it rather shabby. He wondered at those previous occupants and the ghost imprints they had left behind them. The apartment behind the door was much nicer and less depressing. The only hint of the color and comfort out here though was the hall mat that had a blue fish printed on its bristled surface. The paint had been touched up several times and the shade of blue had been clearly incorrectly matched for those touch ups.
Rather than knock immediately Poseidon looked down at the fish for a moment longer considering it. He could hear muffled voices beyond the door. Lateness was not an option. Steeling himself, he raised a hand and rapped on the door three times. To his disappointment Percy did not answer.
Sally looked tired, he thought as he took in her frown, eye bags and hunched shoulders. Poseidon frowned for the smallest of seconds, then his smile broke. He doubted mortal eyes would have registered his frown at all.
“Sally.”
She looked at him in horror and his smile became even more fixed. He wasn’t used to seeing fear in her eyes, not directed at him. Even when he’d finally told her what he was–she hadn’t feared him. He felt himself cast out and around the building, no monsters would come not with his blessing and what he suspected was Athena’s too on the building.
“He just got back.” She hissed at him, her eyes narrowing into daggers. “You can’t. I just got him back.”
Poseidon stopped looking for a threat. It was plain to see what her fear was now. “I’m not here for a quest, Sally.”
The statement was small, and his voice soft. He too wanted Perseus to rest. He wanted to have the world leave him alone and let Percy live his life how he saw fit.
Whatever Sally thought, this statement had confused her. The fear didn’t leave her eyes.
The balloon of excitement he had felt coming slowly leaked out into his chest cavity and sadness bloomed. Perhaps Percy had changed his mind and did not wish to see him. He’d seemed so certain when they spoke last week, but being home and away from the horrors at last could have made him come to new conclusions. The conclusion Poseidon would have made were he Perseus. Had their family ever not cast away their fathers after great wrongs?
“Mom, who was–” The curse that Percy let loose was enough to make Poseidon’s eyebrow lift.
“I take it you did not tell your mother I was coming.” Poseidon smiled but didn’t feel it. Weariness overcame him. He would not allow his disappointment to show. Percy deserved to rage, dismiss and berate him should he choose to. Poseidon would not allow anything that could cause Percy–too forgiving as he was–to feel guilt. And so he would hide any hurt from him.
Sally turned on Percy, her eyes wide. “You–you knew he was coming?”
The question hung unasked between them all: do you want him here?
“I forgot.” Percy said slowly. “I can be ready in like–give me just a second, Dad. I just– shoes and…and.”
“Peace.” Poseidon’s voice was low. “Take as much time as you need. I needed to discuss some things with your mother. Though as you have not spoken to her–Sally, is it agreeable if I take Perseus to the Chinese restaurant on the corner? I will have him back as he is now in a few hours time.”
Sally blinked. “Chinese?”
“It is close to home.” Poseidon said simply. He had made note of it when he’d blessed the apartment for Percy’s return to it.
“I’m so sorry, Dad. I didn’t–I just–” Percy’s eyes were wide with worry. There was a hard set to his shoulders that spoke of distress.
Poseidon felt sick taking it all in. And so he forced a laugh, hoping to dispel it. His son looked even more tired than his mother. His skin was still stretched as if he was dehydrated, and his bones seemed just as prominent as when he’d last seen him, though Percy had been home for nearly a week.
“It is my fault. I should have thought to send a confirmation to you. The week, of course, would get away from you. Coming home is always a cyclone after a time away, and this was much longer and harder than you could ever deserve. Sally, the fault lies with me.” He said, turning to her, his eyes soft.
“Percy, be sure to brush your teeth.” She said waving him deeper into the apartment.
The second Percy was out of sight, she rounded on Poseidon. “Dinner? You think I buy that for one second. I want him left alone. You hear me?” her voice was filled with a simmering rage.
“May I come in?”
“I’m serious, Poseidon. I want him left alone. Retired.” Sally jabbed him in the chest with her index finger.
Were she anyone else he would have not brushed it off. “Sally, I have much to say and I would rather not do it in the open.”
She hesitated, then sighed and stepped aside. Poseidon followed her in, letting the door close with a click behind him. She led him into a small living room. Poseidon didn’t stop to look around as he might have once done. He had things to discuss and Percy would be back quickly.
“I will only say this once, Sally.” Poseidon felt as weary as she looked. “I am not here to send him on a quest or to pull him from you. I am agreed that he has done too much, and want him left alone. I however–as you well know–can not control the world or my family no matter how I would like to. I can however give him as much as I can when he asks–so I am here.”
Sally frowned but did not interrupt his speech. When he finished she seemed to consider him. “He asked you to come?”
Poseidon shrugged. “He said he didn’t see me enough.”
Her sigh was filled with something other than exhaustion. He refused to contemplate what it was.
Poseidon feeling the time passing too quickly pushed on. “Now before he is back, tell me how he is doing?”
She narrowed her eyes and sank onto an old leather chair with a huff. “He’s not good. Doesn’t sleep. Doesn’t eat much–he’s eating too much ambrosia though. I’ve seen him smoking from it. Annabeth too–though I don’t think she is taking as much. I started counting squares but they must have some stash I don’t know about.”
“Ambrosia? They are injured?” Poseidon glanced over her shoulder.
“I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything.” Her voice cracked and she looked at him desperately. “The most I’ve gotten out of him is that the quest and year and everything that happened was ‘bad’.” She made finger quotes as she spoke. “I take it, you know what happened?”
“I know the generalities, yes.” Poseidon frowned. “I will speak to him.”
It was troubling that he hadn’t told Sally anything, but he couldn’t fault Percy. The sea was a dark place where many secrets stayed.
“But you won’t tell me what did happen?” She said bitterly.
He sank down on the sofa across from her. Poseidon weighed his words carefully as he answered. “I will speak to him and then decide. But–Sally somethings aren’t–somethings are beyond mortals, no matter how wonderful or gifted the mortal in question is.”
“So it was that bad.” She said, sounding despondent.
“I can not think of anything worse.” His eyes fell on a picture of Percy and Sally hanging on the wall opposite him. He looked no older than five. Poseidon’s eyes burned.
“Have you seen he has a brand on his arm?” Even whispering her voice came out high pitched.
“It is the mark of the Roman legion. All who join get the mark and a line for each act of valor or year of service.” He spoke gently.
“You mean he’s joined an army?”
Her voice rose in volume and he moved his hands to shush her.
“He joined the legion, they are not that different from camp half-blood.” Poseidon rubbed his forehead trying not to think too hard about the Roman world. He would rather not welcome a headache from considering two aspects of himself.
“Not that different? You just told me they brand their people every year.” She hissed.
“Sally, I am Greek. I can not argue with you over this.” Poseidon hissed back. “Perseus is Greek. If he does not wish to serve the legion I will ensure he is pardoned from further required service.”
“Required?” She looked suddenly pale.
Poseidon spoke over her. “He became Praetor of the legion within two weeks. If he wanted he could do so again. I have no doubt he would excel. But he did not know himself and he was there to survive. I am sure circumstances call for an exception. As it is, I think we could find nine acts of valor within the last few months if needed to complete his service.”
Sally frowned. “Act of valor, what does that…how difficult is that?”
Poseidon hummed. “I don’t know that there are metrics per se. Usually a heroic act that saves another or something equivalent to a quest completed.
“Nine…” She looked out the window. “How long did it take Heracles to do twelve?”
Poseidon frowned. He’d rather avoid any comparisons to any of the tragedies of old. “I said I’m sure we could find nine, not that he was given labors…”
“You need nine to leave the legion?”
“Ten, he has one line already.”
They sat in silence for a moment, Sally whipping away the missy build up in her eyes.
“Before they left to get him, Annabeth said he had his memories erased.” Sally shifted in her chair as she spoke. “She said that’s what kept him away.”
Poseidon hummed. It was odd that Percy hadn’t even confirmed such a thing if Annabeth had already told her.
“My sister.” Poseidon sighed.
“So you can take away memories?” Her voice was low and almost conspiratorial.
Poseidon stilled. “It’s not a hard thing to do, but minds are fragile and it is not advisable.”
“You can make them forget this year?”
Poseidon looked at her in horror. “I would not.”
“But you could.” She pressed. “You could relieve their pain.”
“Sally, what my sister did was reckless and cruel. I will not play with the mind of our son. Not only would that strip away something I have no right to take, but it would be dangerous. It couldn’t even be maintained. Hera only suppressed his memories and that was a risk I am uncomfortable with, but to remove completely? No.”
He understood her question and the reasons for it, but he would not let her entertain such an idea, even though he was sure it was born of love.
“What do you mean maintain?” Her eyes were flickering between his looking for what, he knew not.
“Anyone who knows what happened would be able to tell them. You know our son. Do you think he wouldn’t dig to uncover what happened? He would be angry.”
Angry couldn’t cover how Perseus would feel, Poseidon knew.
Her lip wavered and she nodded.
Poseidon didn’t exhale for a moment. He watched her slowly let go of her hope that Poseidon could wave his hands and fix it–repair the damage he’d caused by simply being Perseus' father.
Poseidon turned back to the wall of photos. There was one of Percy and Paul. Poseidon’s chest burned.
“He has a cough.” Sally said, glancing at the picture too.
“A cough.” He turned away from the image, though the arms of the other man over his son would be imprinted on the back of his eyelids every time he closed his eyes.
“Annabeth too but not as bad. The cough makes her nervous.” Sally said slowly.
“I see. Anything else odd or different?” The worry that had been carried like a stone in his pocket for so long seemed to grow heavier.
Sally shrugged. “The not sleeping is concerning. I think he gets a few hours here and there, but–One morning I woke up and he’d completely rearranged the kitchen. I’ve no idea where anything is.”
Poseidon tilted his head. He didn’t know what to think of that.
“He’s shorter tempered than he used to be. It’s a little scary how fast he can change moods.”
“The sea has always been quick to turn. With–with everything that does not surprise me.”
Sally shook her head. “I know that.”
Poseidon frowned. “He scares you.”
She flinched. “No.”
“He does.”
She shook her head, but he could see through the quiet insistence.
“Has he done something to cause fear?” Poseidon thought of Heracles and the madness he’d suffered. He thought of all the heroes that had returned home a shell and mad.
“No, he’s just…He’d die if he thought I was scared, Poseidon.”
“I won’t tell him. But what has happened?” Poseidon could feel the irony of his words as they came out his mouth.
“It’s little things. Like he doesn’t know who is in the room with him sometimes. Sometimes it’s like he’s sleepwalking but he’s wide awake. Or he starts yelling over the smallest things. He always catches himself in it, but–” Her voice wavered. “I asked him to clean up his room and he said he’d do it later, but–He’s never not listened so I told him off–that he needed to do it when I asked–”
“He got upset.” Poseidon guessed.
“I think–I think he made the water in the air hot or something.” She said slowly. “It was burning almost.”
“How often has something like that happened?”
“Just the once. Most of the time he’s not so…angry. Annabeth pulls him away from things a lot. So I’m not seeing all of it. I’ve heard him shouting at things in his room. Not us but–he just snaps when anything inconveniences him. Annabeth is always there when he snaps, joking about whatever happened trying to get him to laugh or sometimes she makes him go for a walk with her. I think she barricaded the door to his room once when he was– having a moment. We couldn’t get in. Paul and I had to have a talk with him about leaning on each other too much.”
Poseidon pursed his lips. “That was the angriest you’ve seen him though? The air hasn’t gone hot with the other outbursts?”
Poseidon wondered at Perseus’ admission last week that he’d controlled other things in the pit. He’d have to consider the ability to heat humidity in the air.
She nodded. “He always says sorry about them. But it’s like waiting for a bomb to go off. And he won’t tell me anything so I don’t know how to help or what to avoid even.”
“It’s only been a week, Sally.”
“I know. He’s just so tired.” She sounded close to tears.
“You look tired yourself.” Poseidon said sadly.
“I’m fine–Annabeth sometimes wakes up screaming. And well it’s hard to sleep when you know he’s stewing in something a few rooms away.”
“What do you mean?”
“Paul’s found him a few times just sitting in the dark, out here. Like I said he only gets a few hours at a time. I feel like I just lay in bed listening for him to start screaming too, but he doesn’t. He just sits out here staring into space…angry.” She glared at Poseidon accusingly.
Poseidon nodded sadly. “Thank you for telling me. He is returning.”
Percy came into the room hopping slightly as he pulled on his left shoe. Poseidon smiled. A girl with blonde hair rounded the corner after him, her face guarded and her eyes worried. She hung back as if hoping Poseidon wouldn’t see her.
“Good afternoon, Annabeth.” Poseidon said quietly.
She jumped slightly. “Good afternoon, Lord Poseidon.”
Percy glanced back and forth at them a crease forming between his eyebrows.
Poseidon wanted to reach out and smooth it away.
“It is good to see you. Percy speaks highly of you.” Poseidon said easily. He didn’t miss the smile flicker onto his son’s face. Civility was a small price to pay for such affection coming from Perseus. Even if he didn’t care for her mother, he would not begrudge Percy anything–not after all he had suffered.
“How are you fairing?” Poseidon continued, hoping to see a repeat of his smile.
“Fine, thank you.” Her eyes flickered to Percy.
Poseidon frowned. Was she scared of him? Her breathing was steady and her posture open. Her eyes were guarded.
“You fought well on the Acropolis.” Poseidon smiled at her hoping the complement would ease whatever her fear was. Though he guessed it had to do with his hatred for her mother. Yes, that would explain it.
“I–thank you.” She leaned away from him slightly, her back pressing into the wall.
“She’s the best fighter.” Percy said smiling. “You should have seen how she–”
Poseidon watched his son’s jaw snap shut suddenly. He wondered if it was painful the way Percy’s teeth rattled. Rather than let silence fall, Poseidon pushed on.
“Well, it was an honor to see. I also had the pleasure of seeing your accomplishments on Olympus. My forced time there allowed me to see your work in great detail.”
Annabeth flushed. “Thank you, sir. I hope your–your temple was to your liking.”
He nodded. “I’m very pleased with it. I shall have to have you do something about my one in New Rome.”
“Yeah, that shed isn’t really…really–er– well it’s kinda bull–”
“Percy.” His mother cut across him.
“What? It's covered in cobwebs and falling apart!” Percy waved his hands in exasperation.
“The Romans have never been ones to love the sea. It is…to be expected.”
“Jason’s already going to be working on making new temples, I don’t see why we couldn’t add improvements to yours.” Annabeth’s voice was light. “Percy had mentioned it to me. I’ve not started any sketches yet but I thought maybe a larger salt fountain like the one in–” She flushed again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble.”
“Not at all, although I am sure we should be going so I am not intruding too long on your mother’s time.”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Percy said with a smile.
He turned back and kissed Annabeth on the top of her head quickly where she stood arms behind her clinging to the wall’s edge as if hoping she would sink into it. He gave her a lingering look.
“See you in a bit.” His voice was barely a whisper.
She nodded and he turned away from her and crossed to his mother and bent down to kiss her cheek.
“Excellent. I’m afraid you may need to explain some of the menu to me.” Poseidon raised his hand to grasp Percy’s shoulder. “We will be back in a few hours.”
Percy nodded and followed him out the door and over the fish doormat.