bound for stormy weather: the lightning thief - Chapter 3 - abbzeh - Percy Jackson and the Olympians (2024)

Chapter Text

There was a cat in his son’s hands.

Tyche had vanished as quickly as she had appeared, leaving behind only a cat as proof that she had ever been there. Poseidon was perplexed, especially seeing Percy’s reactions to said cat, as well as those of Athena’s daughter. Like something somewhere between deep-rooted grief and tearful elation. The cat – a kitten, really – purred as it moved about slightly, looking around its new surroundings with large and curious eyes. It looked up at Percy, seemed to recognise him, and butted its tiny calico-furred head against Percy’s wrist.

The laugh that Percy let out at that was strangled, and something in Poseidon’s essence hurt at the sound. He wondered just what, exactly, was causing his child such pain. He wondered how the kitten connected to it, especially if Nemesis was allowing him to have the kitten. Nemesis seldom showed kindness, after all – Poseidon remembered what she did to Aura all too well. She was the one who brought down the haughty. That she was doing even a single nice thing did not bode well.

The kitten crawled its way between Percy’s forearm, where it was still pressed against Poseidon’s shirt, and Poseidon’s own body. Its purrs seemed to reverberate through Poseidon’s false body. When it looked up at him, it seemed to evaluating Poseidon’s worth. It was a ridiculous notion, but Poseidon had the distinct feeling that the kitten was judging whether he was worthy or not.

Despite himself, Poseidon find himself smiling, his fractured form settling back into something more human once again. He had always liked cats more than other land-dwelling animals, so much so that he had blessed them to always do well at sea and on ships. (He also knew, despite not actively thinking about it, that his more northerly counterpart had done much the same for the tiny creatures, in honour of his golden daughter and her cat-drawn chariot.)

And this cat seemed to be protective of his son, for whatever reason. For that reason alone, and for the fact that Percy clearly liked this kitten, Poseidon approved of the cat’s presence. He was happy to ignore the curious paw poking him in the side as it got itself comfortable once again, apparently intent on stealing all the body heat it could manage.

Annabeth was still staring at the cat with wide-eyes, looking like she had just seen a ghost, or perhaps witnessed one of Melinoe’s ghostly parades. “I–how?” She looked at Percy, lip wobbling and eyes shining with unshed tears. The foreboding feeling in Poseidon’s chest grew that much more. “She brought us Small Bob back?” Small Bob? That was a strange name for a kitten, but Poseidon had given things stranger names than that. “Does that mean the others–”

She was cut off again, but Percy seemed to know exactly what she was referring to. “I don’t know. I hope…” He trailed off with a tired sounding sigh and another wave of grief. “I don’t know.”

And once more, Poseidon desperately wished he could know just what sort of future his child had been plucked from. He needed to know just what had befallen his son, to know what had caused such grief that it carried across time. He wasn’t used to feeling – almost helpless, yet that’s what it was. He was helpless to stop any of his child’s future suffering that had occurred within these books, would be forced to sit through and hear about every little thing in excruciating detail.

Helplessness was not a feeling that Poseidon was used to, was something that he had seldom ever felt. It made him bristle indignantly, made him want to rage. He wanted to pull his child from this time-frozen place and away from those who sought to do him harm, hide him beneath the waves where none would dare approach. Not even the Moirai, if Poseidon had his way. (Though he recognised Apollo’s words as truth, too. Poseidon held prophecies, too, even if his oracle was not as renowned as the one of Delphi. He knew better than most how the Moirai worked.)

“So, uh,” Thalia carefully spoke up, bringing Poseidon’s spiralling thoughts back to the present, “what’s with the cat?”

Annabeth tried for a smile. It looked like more of a grimace in Poseidon’s eyes, and waves of mental pain continued to roll from her. “That’s Small Bob,” she said, confirming what Poseidon had thought he’d heard before. “He’s a… friend. From where we were before.”

She exchanged a significant look with Hades’ boy, glancing between him and Percy meaningfully. Nico’s eyes widened a second later.

“But how did you find a cat – why is he named after–” he began to ask, only to be gently cut off by Percy.

“Spoilers,” Percy said quietly, offering him a small smile. The cat, Small Bob, miaowed in agreement. Nico stared for another long moment, eyes flitting between him and Annabeth as though the secrets would reveal themselves to him, before sighing in apparent defeat and turning away.

Hades cleared his throat, raising the hand still holding the book in the air. He looked mildly irritated that he was still the one holding it. “Is someone else going to take this thing off me or are we going to be stuck here until Khaos Herself decides to end it all?”

There was quiet for a moment, everyone looking around at each other awkwardly and seemingly trying to work out who would be the next to suffer through the reading portion. Percy, obviously, was not offering himself up to the task, something that Poseidon completely expected of him and even encouraged – it must have been hard enough listening to his thoughts read aloud. Poseidon would not place yet more stress on him.

A lot of the demigods seemed to be wary of the idea, perhaps due to the dyslexia they had talked about. Dionysus was outright outwardly ignoring everyone, though his comments showed that he couldn’t quite help himself with his need to be in the loop.

Finally, after a long moment, there was a sigh and the sound of footsteps. Poseidon looked over, curious to see who had taken the task for themselves, and was utterly surprised to find Hera a few steps away from Hades. Hades was too if the amusingly gobsmacked look on his face was anything to go by. Poseidon had rarely seen his older brother wear such a look of open surprise – once more, he really wished he had a camera to document the moment.

“What?” he asked irritably as Hera drew near, sounding annoyed and defensive in one. Nico eyed her cautiously at his side.

Hera raised an eyebrow, holding out a hand. “What does it look like I’m doing?” She made an impatient flapping motion with her free hand. “Since no one else is stepping up, it seems it must fall to me, as always, to move things along.”

Poseidon stared at her. Hades did too, apparently his wits thoroughly shocked out of him. Hera tutted loudly, rolled her eyes, and reached down and delicately plucked the book straight from Hades’ unresistant hand. With an imperious sniff, she made her way back to her own armchair – when she had traded in her throne for it, Poseidon had no idea – and sat down with a graceful flourish.

Ignoring all the incredulous looks she was receiving, Hera carefully opened the book at where Hades had marked it. Immediately, her eyebrows went to her forehead. “Grover unexpectedly loses his pants.”

Poseidon watched as the satyr in question turned bright red yet again, so much so he resembled one of his dear Amphitrite’s anemone gardens more than he did a land creature. The two trouble-making sons of Hermes turned to him, faces pressed into identical sly smiles. Even Dionysus was looking over, eyebrow raised.

“So, do you have something to share with us, goat boy?” Thalia asked, looking absolutely gleeful at the prospect of more teasing material. She turned her gaze on Percy. “You didn’t tell me any of this!”

Percy coughed, and Small Bob let out an indignant miaow at the small movement. “I… forgot?”

Before they could get distracted more than they already had, which was admittedly rather so – and that was coming from Poseidon, who had a habit of getting off-track easily. Going with the currents like his jellyfish, in a way – Hera gave them all a fierce look and began to read.

Confession time: … we got to the bus terminal.

Grover opened his mouth, looking offended, then closed it again. Somewhat sheepishly, he said, “Yeah, that’s fair. I’d do the same.”

Chris glanced his way, raising his eyebrows. “Weren’t you supposed to be his protector?” His tone was questioning and mildly dubious. Clarisse seemed to agree with him if her expression was anything to go by. Even Dionysus shot him a sidelong glance.

Grover buried his face in his hands. The bright red skin could be seen peeking out between the gaps of his splayed fingers. “I was a bit much.” His voice was muffled against his skin.

I know, I know. It was rude … "Why does it always have to be sixth grade?"

“Good job, Mr Underground,” Dionysus said in a drawl, once more offering him a passing glance and raised eyebrow. Grover was still flushed from his hairline to the neckline of his shirt. “You’ve managed to – what do the kids say today, Maribel?” Miranda looked startled at being called out again even as her temperamental mother looked annoyed at the name change again, “–right, that was it. You’ve managed to give Peter Johnson bad vibes.”

Of all the things that had been said so far, that seemed to cause the demigods the most disquiet. The Stoll brothers gave him odd looks and Jason was squinting again. Will just looked pained, though that was also no huge surprise – he’d seemed to be pained by most things during the relatively short time that the children had been on Olympus.

“Mr D,” Leo said seriously, actually looking up from his current project for the first time in a long while, “I am begging you – please never say that again.”

Dionysus raised an eyebrow, summoning yet another can of Diet co*ke to his hand. He cracked the tab with idle and almost-malicious glee, the fires in his eyes flaring brighter. “What? You don’t like that I’m down with the kids, Lenny?” Chris visibly winced. “I know all the things the kids today say. I know all about your tubulars and your groovys and your yolos.”

Chris exhaled heavily, closing his eyes to the apparent madness beyond. “This is it. This is the worst timeline.”

Whenever he got upset, Grover's bladder acted up,

“Ah yes, I remember that well,” Thalia said with a fond smile as Connor and Travis snickered in the background. It seemed no one would be safe from Percy’s unique internal monologue and thoughts, Poseidon thought fondly. Offhandedly, he wondered how he would be described when the time came. He found himself looking forward to his child’s refreshingly honest thoughts

Grover let out a pained noise. His embarrassment was palpable. “Don’t you start as well,” he said, voice still muffled from behind his hands. He muttered something else, inaudible to Poseidon, that seemed to cause Dionysus great amusem*nt.

so I wasn't surprised … made a beeline for the restroom.

Rachel offered Grover a sympathetic smile even as their friends were quietly laughing amongst themselves again. Pulling her hair into a long plait, she said, “I’m totally with you, Grover. If there’s a loo, I’m going to it.” Her face twisted into a small grimace, there and gone before the other demigods could track it, Poseidon was sure. “My dad didn’t like pulling over all the time, though. That annoyed him. If he was in the car, that is,” she added in a quiet aside.

Percy sat himself up again, Small Bob contentedly purring on his lap. Poseidon watched him squint in Rachel’s direction, face unimpressed. “No offence, Rachel, but every time you bring your dad up, he sounds like more and more of a dickhe*d.”

Rachel gave a grim smile, ignoring the splutters from some of the other children. Perhaps Percy knew something that they didn’t? The thought pleased Poseidon greatly – he always strove to be in the know about everything, and the thought that his child knew things that others didn’t made a wave of pride heave within his chest. Though Rachel didn’t say anything in response, her smile was an answer in of itself.

Instead of waiting … and First," I told the driver.

In the back of his mind, Poseidon made a note of the address. He had a vague idea of where his child and former lover lived, of course – he might not be able to keep as close an eye on them as he would have liked, but he still had his informants when it was safe to do so. He had a vague idea of their location, he knew that Sally had married someone – though from what little Poseidon had been able to glean through such limited and second-hand interactions, he wasn’t sure he liked her husband – and he was able to, for the most part, keep the eyes of anyone above or below from them.

Until the year of this book, though, it seemed. It made sense, Poseidon supposed. The scents of demigods always grew stronger the older they got, a beacon for monsters wishing to try their hand at vying for glory.

“So, do you still live there or…” Though one of the Stoll brothers – which one it was, Poseidon wasn’t sure. They sounded remarkably alike and he hadn’t been paying attention to them – had asked it innocently enough, it didn’t fool Poseidon for a second. If he knew what children of Hermes were like – and after a near-eternity of seeing them in action, he did know what they were like – he knew that they were planning something.

Luckily, Percy also seemed to sense the mischief. “No. Haven’t for, like, four years.” Poseidon noted down that bit of information for later. “I’m pretty sure an old man lives there now.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ll tell us where you live now?”

Percy smiled. “Nope.”

Travis gave him what Poseidon assumed was supposed to be a sad-looking pout. Percy remained unmoved. “That’s so unfair. I bet Annabeth knows where you live.”

Percy’s eyebrow raised itself higher even as Annabeth smiled smugly in the background. “She’s my girlfriend, dude. Of course she knows. Last I checked, I’m not going out with you.”

Before Travis could no doubt give another sobbing statement, perhaps wondering why Percy had chosen to keep the location of his home from him and his brother, Thalia chose that moment to chime in. “I also know where they live!” Connor stared at her, looking betrayed, and Thalia’s smile grew. “I’ve even stayed over. Mainly before I joined the Hunters,” she added at Artemis’ inquisitive look.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

“Only one word?” Annabeth looked at best sceptical and even a bit offended. “There’s no way only one word would do!”

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” Percy nodded agreeably, ignoring the curious look that Poseidon sent his way. Well, he supposed he’d be hearing about her soon enough. “No word is good enough for her. She’s the best.”

“She really is,” Nico nodded, leaning back against the back of the sofa and tucking his legs underneath himself. He looked towards Hazel. “You love her when you meet her. She’ll force feed you cookies and you will like it.” He paused, then gave a sideways glance in Will’s direction. Poseidon couldn’t help but note he still looked mildly stormy, or as stormy as a child of Apollo could manage, from the last chapter. “You probably worship her, too. She’s everyone’s mom at camp. And she’s sunshine personified.”

“Hey! I’m the actual sun, here,” Apollo objected, looking miffed at being brushed over. Poseidon merely snorted. As far as he was concerned, even Apollo’s sun could not outshine that of Sally Jackson’s.

“No, sorry, Dad. She’s got you beat,” Will said, sounding at least apologetic.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world,

There was something different in Hera’s voice, Poseidon noted as she read. He doubted any of the children would notice, there and gone so quickly that their mortal blood would not pick up on it, but he noticed. He eyed her carefully, curious despite himself.

His sister had historically been indifferent at best to the mortal lovers of the various other gods, and downright hostile to those who had caught the attention of Zeus. That Ganymede was still standing after all the years that had passed was a testament to that boy’s resilience. But then, Poseidon considered, she had always shown a kindness to good mothers (who were not the mothers of yet more of Zeus’ children), and to the children of those mothers who obviously loved them.

In the corner of his eye, he could also see Zeus eyeing him with a sidelong glance. Perhaps he was wondering what was so special about Percy’s mother that Poseidon would break the Styx-sworn oath, as if he hadn’t done that exact same thing.

which just proves … have the rottenest luck.

Hestia, who had been smiling ever since the children had started talking so animatedly about Sally, abruptly frowned. Even Hera looked unhappy at the description, yet another fleeting expression that was gone before the children would see it. Looking over to where Percy was still leaning against Poseidon’s side – he would not be moving his child if he felt comfortable enough to sit like that – Hestia asked, “What do you mean by that, Perseus?”

Percy froze, just enough for only Poseidon to sense it, before quickly answering, “I–I’m sure it’ll come up, Aunt Hestia.” His voice was slightly tense. Inwardly, Poseidon frowned, especially when the cat began trilling comforting noises at his son.

Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five,

Poseidon frowned outwardly that time, directing his look towards Zeus. To Zeus’ credit, he looked more confused and mildly irritated than he did offended. Upon seeing the looks he was receiving, both from Poseidon and from Hestia, he said defensively, “What? Not every air disaster is my doing.”

“You are the one who insists they’re more spectacular than any other disaster type,” Hades pointed out mildly, like he wasn’t adding more fuel to the discourse fire. “So much so that you continually create yet more work for me,” he added in a snider, quiet tone. He was soundly ignored as Zeus turned his attention back to Poseidon. He opened and closed his mouth several times, grimacing, like he was searching for words and coming up empty.

Eventually, he settled on, “I don’t believe I am the one responsible for, ah, this.”

and she was raised by an uncle … a good creative- writing program.

Apollo perked up again. Poseidon eyed him warily, not trusting the sunny gleam in his eyes for a single second. He was probably just excited about yet another of his domains being mentioned, no matter how fleetingly, though Poseidon knew better than to trust his nephew completely. He still resolved to keep him as much away from Percy as he could manage for the time being, or at least until he had a better idea of what had truly happened during his child’s encounter with the Moirai.

Apollo had seemed interested in that, too. From an objective point of view, Poseidon could understand the interest. The Moirai seldom appeared before anyone, mortals or otherwise, unless they deemed it necessary. As his nephew had so succinctly put, the three didn’t even need to see someone if they were cutting a thread.

Unfortunately, Poseidon was very much not being objective at that current moment in time. He wasn’t known for his historical objectivity, after all – why would he start now, when his child was being subjected to the whims of the Fates themselves?

Then her uncle … and no diploma.

Athena was frowning, Poseidon noted. It didn’t look like her normal just swallowed a whole lemon look, though. She looked genuinely perplexed, or perhaps disquieted would be a better term for the look on her face. She looked between the book in Hera’s hands and Poseidon himself, eyebrows furrowed.

“She was… prevented from obtaining her education? Because she had to care for an ill family member?” Her expression abruptly reminded Poseidon that for all of Athena’s seemingly endless wisdom and knowledge, for all of her constant planning, she really had no idea how to handle the human sides of things. “Are there not programmes for such an occurrence? Something to help her?”

The children all exchanged uneasy looks at that, as though debating who should be the one to answer Athena’s question.

Eventually, it was Katie who answered, sounding very uncomfortable as she did so, “Not really?” She shrugged, giving her friends awkward looks. “I think some places have bursaries but they’re not easy to get.”

“Not to mention,” Apollo added, tone dark, “that this country likes to make you pay extortionate amounts for medical care. No doubt that probably left her with very little money. The things Asclepius has told me…” He trailed off, shaking his head and looking distinctly unhappy. "I have no idea how it even ended up this way.”

“To be fair,” Hermes suggested amicably, humming and tapping his finger against his jaw thoughtfully, “you might have been distracted with one of your plagues. You had quite a few going on, if I remember rightly. The cholera, the three different plagues, the diphtheria–”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” Apollo cut in irritably, shooting his brother an annoyed look. Hermes ignored it, as he had ignored all of Apollo’s irritation over the millennia. “Why am I getting the blame for all of those, though? It’s not like I’m the only disease god around. There’s another in here with us, even!”

He pointed at Artemis. Artemis merely raised an eyebrow in response, looking supremely unimpressed. Her look could compete with Amphitrite’s, Poseidon thought to himself with amusem*nt. “I haven’t caused a plague in five hundred years,” she said crisply, “and I wasn’t the one who told those merchants about the Silk Road, knowing full well they’d bring back those plague-bearing fleas.”

Apollo stared at her for a long moment, looking dumbfounded. “Yours was the one that killed people in twenty four hours!” He crossed his arms, looking almost petulant. “And mine didn’t reinfect the survivors.”

Artemis’ face remained steadfastly blank, as unreadable as her inherited moonlight. “I created it to punish the mortals who were over-hunting, and I didn’t bring it back time and time again.”

Several of the children, Poseidon noted, looked between the bickering twins with expressions that ranged from confusion to even a slight hint of fear. It cemented his opinion that these children had not seen the gods as they once were, and sometimes were still. Much like how most didn’t know of Poseidon’s own half-forgotten domains, he wondered how many knew of Artemis’ link with plagues and diseases. She certainly utilised it far less than her brother did, but the times she did invoke her authority on the domain had all left great scars on the tapestry of human history.

That she only ever kept her plagues around for as long as they needed to be, then promptly wiped them away, spoke much about her. Just as she never left a trace of herself when out hunting wild beasts in the wilderness, Artemis never left a trace of the diseases she occasionally wrought, leaving behind only mysteries and speculation for their origin.

In some ways, despite Apollo’s penchant for continuing epidemics and bringing them back, Poseidon felt that Apollo’s approach was almost kinder. He didn’t remove them from history, he left them be once they were out in the world, and allowed the mortals to learn and discover more about that which was killing them, create ways to defend themselves. Artemis left them with only the myths and vague fear that they would come back.

The only good break she ever got was meeting my dad.

Poseidon couldn’t help the jerk in surprise at that, even as he managed to mostly contain it. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised – Sally had been unlike any mortal he’d ever met, and he had no doubt that she remained much the same. She had not been impressed at the revelation that Poseidon was a living, in the flesh god of old. She hadn’t even been all that surprised, either. Poseidon wasn’t sure what she could have seen that had given him away, but she’d always said she’d sensed something off about him. Uncanny valley, she’d once called it.

That Sally would call meeting him a good thing, even despite the hardships she must have faced following their son’s birth… it made something in Poseidon’s ancient essence want to purr. Not for the first time since his leaving, he wished that Sally had accepted his offer (his desperate plea) to live beneath the ocean, away from the hardships of a mortal coil. He knew, though, that she never would have accepted it. She’d even told him so to his face.

“If my life is to mean something,” she’d said, smiling that soft smile as the sea winds had washed over them, “then I have to make it my own.”

And Poseidon, even as everything within him had thrashed and as he had gone against his own possessive nature, had let her go. The sea didn’t like to be restrained, and Poseidon recognised that very same quality in Sally. He loved her too much to subject her to an unwanted life of restriction.

I don't have any memories of him … barest trace of his smile.

Poseidon blinked at that, looking at his child in equal parts bemusem*nt and amazement. Percy stared back at him, looking confused at the scrutiny as Small Bob gave Poseidon a warning miaow. “I didn’t know you’d remember that.”

Percy offered a frown, looking down at the cat briefly. “I didn’t know you’d actually been there.” A shrug. “Thought it was just a dream or something.”

Poseidon tried to parse his feelings on that, turning to where he could sense more than see Zeus’ eyes on the side of his head. His brother was staring at him with a slightly downturned mouth, head tilted to the side in consternation. Poseidon could practically hear the gears turning in that head of his.

“You visited him?” Zeus eventually said, tone nearly flat.

“I visit all my children when they’re born.” A simple enough answer for the question being asked. There was no way Poseidon could explain to his heavenward brother about the connection between those born of the sea. Visiting his children so shortly after their birth helped to establish that lifelong connection, gave him the chance to bestow minor blessings. Even after all the years that had passed since that stormy night, Poseidon still remembered the feeling that had arisen in his chest at the sight of his first demigod child in decades, how tiny his child had been in his arms.

The feeling that if push came to shove, he would destroy anything that would even threaten his child.

(He wasn’t called the Father of Monsters for nothing. He himself would become a monster in a heartbeat for his children.)

“We all do at least once,” Aphrodite cut in mildly, distracting Poseidon from his spiralling thoughts. She gave Zeus a pseudo-playful smile, as though daring him to say something about it. Piper looked startled at that. Once again, Poseidon couldn’t help but wonder how much about her mother she actually knew.

My mom doesn't like to talk … She has no pictures.

Poseidon frowned to himself again, ignoring the twisting feeling in the centre of his being. He turned back to his child. “Is she… is she happy now?”

Part of him selfishly wanted the answer to be a negative, that he could swoop in and provide whatever the mother of his child needed. Logically, he knew that Sally would never allow that, just as Amphitrite refused to allow him to help her unsolicited.

Percy considered the question for a moment, face thoughtful as he continued petting Small Bob. “Yeah, I’d say so.” He didn’t elaborate on his mother’s happiness, but Poseidon hadn’t expected him to, had figured that as with most other things, his child would be bound by the Moirai’s rigid rules.

Still, Poseidon nodded. “Good. I am–glad about that.”

See, they weren't married. She told me he was … Not dead. Lost at sea.

“Interesting. Not a single lie there but she obfuscated the truth so you’d still be protected.” Apollo looked extremely interested again, eyes near gleaming. Poseidon hated to admit it, but he could see where that interest came from. Very few mortal parents of their children knew how to protect their demigod offspring so effectively.

“She’s clear sighted,” Percy said with a shrug, “she knew who Dad was.”

“Even still,” Apollo continued thoughtfully, “she even said the right sea that Atlantis is under right now. She told you exactly where he was without telling you. I do so love clever word plays.”

“A pity, then, that you can’t love them, now,” Dionysus drawled blandly. His magazine had seemingly finally come to an end, having been replaced with yet more cans of Diet co*ke. He was actually staring at the rest of the chamber reluctantly, like he’d rather be elsewhere. “I’d rather you go back to your insufferable pun phase than continue in your horrific haiku era.”

Apollo tilted his head, mouth twitching. “Can I offer you a limerick in this trying time, instead?”

“If you do that, I’m throwing us both off the mountain.”

She worked odd jobs … her high school diploma,

Apollo nodded approvingly, smiling. “Good. I’m pleased she was able to get her education, even with all those setbacks. Not that there should have been so many setbacks,” he added in a bitter aside, glaring to the side at nothing in particular. Will sighed, like he was already getting used to his father’s eccentricities.

and raised me on her own … I wasn't an easy kid.

“None of us are easy kids,” Thalia said, a bitter twist to her tone and mouth as she gave Zeus a very quick sideways glance. Several of the children seemed to share her sentiment, even the entirely mortal yet blessed child by Apollo’s side, with nods or equally bitter looks. “And not all of us got awesome parents like Mrs Jackson, either.”

At that, Zeus actually looked at her properly, as though searching for something only he could see. Poseidon was curious about that, too, he had to admit. He knew little of Zeus’ child, only that she had been turned into a tree by her father following what would have been a mortal injury. Neither he nor his brother fully understood how she was standing before them, living and breathing, and she hadn’t particularly been forthcoming on details, either.

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano,

There was a flinch from his child. Brief and unnoticeable to most, but not to Poseidon. He felt it as clearly as he felt the water in the pipes above them and in the fountains beyond the doors, and he immediately launched into several internal questions. The concerned looks that Annabeth and the satyr sent him, along with the glance from Dionysus, only added fuel to Poseidon’s growing proverbial fire.

Something about this mortal man had caused a fear response in his son. If the book offered no answers for him, Poseidon was resolved to find out himself, no matter what he had to do.

who was nice the first thirty seconds … like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.

Apollo’s eyes glimmered, sunspots on a surface of water. “Once more, I sense no lies.” He smirked a bit, looking amused by the wording. “I won’t question how you know what that smells like, though, mini-Poseidon.”

Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard … the way he and I got along ...

“Don’t compare yourself to him,” Grover said, his voice uncharacteristically dark. It was the antithesis to the behaviour that Poseidon had witnessed from him thus far. Annabeth looked concerned at the tone, too. Perhaps there were things only the satyr knew, things that not even his son’s girlfriend (he assumed they were courting – was that what the mortals said nowadays? He’d have to ask Rhodos – going by their behaviour and the affection between them) knew about.

Some of his control over his form wavered, just for a second and too quick for anyone to spot.

well, when I came home … Chips and beer cans were strewn all over the carpet.

Hera actually paused in her reading, staring at the book then looking over the top of it. Her mouth was downturned in a frown. “That is not a good environment to raise a child.” She gave a sniff, then looked at Percy. Percy seemed surprised to be the recipient of her focus again. “Am I correct in assuming he made your mother clean up his messes?”

Percy’s expression briefly darkened. It brought Poseidon to mind of his stormy seas. “You’re right, uh, Lady Hera.” If he had to guess, Poseidon would say that he didn’t tack on the honorific to Hera’s name very often.

Hera eyed him for another long moment, gaze contemplative. “You love your mother dearly.” It wasn’t phrased like a question, clearly intended to be a plain statement. When Percy nodded, she let out a thoughtful noise. She seemed to come to some sort of conclusion after a brief deliberation, and she said, “Call me Aunt Hera, Perseus. I may not appreciate marriage vow breakers,” she gave Poseidon a rancid look at that, before turning the softer look back to a bewildered Percy, “but I can appreciate loving one’s mother as you do.”

Hardly looking up … "You got any cash?"

“He dares ask a child for money?” Demeter sounded disgusted, perhaps three seconds away from a conniption. Poseidon felt much the same – worse even. Once more, there was a struggle to rein in his form, to keep it firmly within the human-shaped mould he had long set for himself. It was getting more difficult, though, as time went on. He watched, somewhat distantly as he pulled himself back together, as Demeter turned her piercing gaze onto Percy. “Does he do this often? Does he not have a job of his own?”

Percy opened his mouth then abruptly shut it again, presumably muffled once more by the Moirai. He struggled against it for a moment, looking annoyed, before resignedly saying, “I’m sure it’ll come up.”

That was it. No Welcome back. … over his bald scalp, as if that made him handsome or something.

“Oh, I assure you, this will be child’s play compared to what I’ll do,” Aphrodite said blandly, her voice ominous and ringing with the same prophetic dark promise that had once coloured her primordial father’s tone. Poseidon was not inclined to disbelieve her or to take her words as idle threats – he had seen Aphrodite at some of her most vicious throughout the many millennia. Ares stared at her dreamily, as he always did when she showed her poison-tipped claws.

Normally, he was content to sit back and watch her wreak her vengeance on whoever had brought forth her rage. It was always an amusing time, and a mortal who had stepped out of line would inevitably be forced back into their place. This time, though… well, Poseidon knew that if she moved to do something more than bestow a curse of looks upon that mortal, he would be forced to step in.

He managed the Electronics … home most of the time.

“Ah,” Rachel nodded, understanding flickering across her face, “one of those managers, then? The ones who sit in an office and stare at you through the cameras?”

Percy snorted, the sound sending light vibrations through Poseidon’s shirt. Where he could feel his child pressed against his arm, there was a tenseness in his frame, as much as Percy was good at hiding it. “He couldn’t even do that. That would mean not watching his ESPN or playing poker. Gods forbid he do that.” Another brief snort, yet more bitterness. “He went down to the shop maybe once a week, just to ‘make sure people weren’t stealing from the tills’.” The air quotes around the words would have been tangible even without Percy physically doing them, causing Small Bob to let out an offended squeak.

I don't know why he hadn't been fired long before.

“If I had to guess,” Dionysus offered with a yawn, summoning yet more cans of Diet co*ke, “he’s probably doing something shady for the owner. Or he has – what do the kids call it today? – dirt on the owner.” With a shrug, he dropped his most recently emptied can onto the floor beside his armrest, the clattering noise echoing about the room as it collided with the several others that had been deposited there.

Percy blinked, a surprised look on his face. “I’m not sure what he could do. My toothbrush has more life up top than him.”

“No, he’s right.” Athena didn’t look very happy to be agreeing with Dionysus. Dionysus, for his part, looked the smuggest he had in decades that she had been forced to back him up. “Accounts and tax fiddling, numbers forging, misreporting of things – all things that this human could be doing in return for such an easy ride of it.”

He just kept on collecting paychecks … on beer, of course. Always beer.

Poseidon was not blind to the lightning fast glance sent Percy’s way by Dionysus again, his gaze turned away again before anyone could truly see it. There had been something in his nephew’s eyes, almost like a dawning understanding and almost sympathy. Yet once more, his essence heaved within his false form, fighting to break into a shape that could more easily protect that which was his.

Whenever I was home … that our "guy secret." Meaning,

Hera trailed off, her lips continuing to move as she silently mouthed words to herself. She looked up, meeting Poseidon’s gaze dead-on, and she swallowed heavily. If Poseidon didn’t know his sister any better, he would almost say she looked scared. Or–no. She did looked scared, like she was staring at an approaching tsunami with no hope of escape, only a drowned future. On visibly shaking limbs, she pushed herself to her feet, the book still in her hand, and she glided across the room to where Poseidon was still sitting, Percy at his side.

When she reached them, she leant forward, the white of her dress shimmering in peaco*ck tones.

“Brother,” she said, her voice just as shaky as her hands. Her eyes flickered down to Percy, and there was a flash of something in their dark depths, gone before Poseidon could get a full read on it. “I need you to remain calm.”

“What?” Horses’ hooves pounded loudly in his ears, divine alarm bells ringing in his head louder than any siren could hope to match, mortal or monstrous. The terrible sense of trepidation that had been steadily building felt as though it was reaching its boiling point. “Hera, what are you–”

“I need you to remain calm,” Hera repeated, stubbornly and with just a hint of sudden desperation, “lest you bring the entire mountain down on us. On your child.” She turned her eyes back onto Percy, and she looked almost sorry, or even regretful. “The Moirai will not want us skipping parts, I’m afraid, nephew. But I can at least let your father hear it first.”

Percy had gone dangerously pale, his skin almost a sickly ashen-grey. Both Apollo and Dionysus were glancing over again, perhaps sensing the distress even if they could not hear their conversation. There was a crackle in his breathing again, as there had been back in the first chapter, and Poseidon could see the way his fingernails dug into the exposed skin of his forearm again, even with the loudly reassuring purrs of the cat.

Meeting his eyes steadfastly, Hera read out that which had caused her so much fear.

if I told my mom, he would punch my lights out.

There was a moment before a storm crashes down, whether that be a lightning storm or a hurricane, where there was a moment of calm. Poseidon had felt a similar calm many, many times throughout his long life – his rage at Odysseus and his men, his need to destroy the walls of Ilium that he himself had built, the great destruction he had wrought on Theras all those years ago, the waves he had brought down to completely drown Aenaria.

All of those were nothing to what he felt in the present moment. His body felt strangely calm, even as he viciously fought for control over his form, his nightmarish abyssal form trying to claw its way forward to seek vengeance. In the back of his quickly splintering mind, he could even feel the muted form of Neptune’s growing anger. Hera stared at him, face white, as her eyes tracked the shifts and changes of Poseidon’s form, the air rapidly cooling around them.

He had just enough presence of mind to carefully place a hand on Percy’s shoulder, being careful not to exert divine strength. To Hera, he said, his voice barely human, “If you’ll excuse me,” and let the world melt away around himself, his child, and his child’s cat.

They reappeared quickly, still on the time-locked Olympus and evidently banned from leaving (oh, how Poseidon longed to tear down the barriers that prevented his escape, to let the depths sink into that miserable excuse for a mortal. He would not give him the luxury of a quick death, nor the honour of one), at Poseidon’s temple upon Olympus. It was the closest the sea they would be able to get in the current circ*mstances, and Poseidon needed for them to be as close to his domain as possible. He needed the calming scent of the brine and shine of abalone.

Summoning up another bench, he gently pushed Percy down into it, turning away for a moment to run his hands through his hair and think. It was an effort to keep himself mostly together in a form that wouldn’t incinerate his son’s mortal blood, but gods below did he want to become the promised monster. Remembering Amphitrite’s breathing exercises, he forced some air into his false lungs, forced some calm into his form. With every breath, some of the immediate need for destruction faded, though his wrath remained as hot-cold as ever.

Another heaving breath, and Poseidon turned back to Percy again. His child was carefully not looking at him, absentmindedly stroking the cat on his lap again. Poseidon inwardly sighed, wondering how best to even start. This was not a conversation he’s ever had with any of his children before, immortal or demigod.

“Perseus,” he said slowly, seriously, trying to ignore the stab of hurt and wrath that Percy’s flinch sent through him, “tell me the truth.” He paused, pushing down the taste of cold seawater on his tongue. “Did–did that human ever hit you.” He didn’t phrase it as a question because he knew he didn’t need to. The book had already given him his answer – what he needed now was the answer from Percy himself.

Percy quickly flitted his gaze to Poseidon, then down to Small Bob, then across the room to where mosaics line the walls. It repeated several times, like he was searching for a way to escape. Or perhaps he was looking for words to talk his way out of the conversation, not that Poseidon would let that happen. His brief thought about hiding his child beneath the waves from earlier was looking more and more appealing.

Finally, after a long moment of tense silence, Percy finally replied, “Yes.” A confession that had been forced out of him, clearly a secret he had never intended to speak to anyone, including his father.

Poseidon forced another shuddering breath into his chest. “How long.”

Percy glanced at him, looking exhausted. Small Bob gave a plaintive miaow. Another second, and he shrugged. “Couple of years, maybe?” Poseidon felt something in his shape beginning to unravel, and Percy must’ve sensed the danger because he quickly held a hand over the cat’s eyes, to shield Small Bob from any more of Poseidon’s divine form. “Not that it happened often!” he tried to say, as though that would bring calm to Poseidon’s wrath.

As if it would.

“It wouldn’t matter if he’d only done it the once,” Poseidon said, somehow managing to keep his voice artificially calm, though the sounds of groaning shipwrecks echoed in the back of his throat, “or if he’d only threatened to do so; you are of the sea, and he has no right to harm you. Let alone touch you.”

Oh, his wrath felt incredibly ancient at that moment in time. For all of his gained calmness over the centuries since the collapse of the Western Roman Empire, Poseidon had always had his old rage at his core. Sometimes it had showed with catastrophic events – he was certain Apollo still hadn’t completely forgiven him for the Year Without a Summer incident. Other times, he felt it right as he did in that very moment, bubbling beneath his skin and threatening to burst forth like his hydrothermal vents.

Percy narrowed his eyes, a glint appearing in them. He stood up, free hand carefully braced beneath the cat and other hand still over the eyes. “What gives you the right to decide that?”

Poseidon straightened to his full height. “I am your father–”

“Yeah, you are,” Percy cut in, a full glare starting to shutter over his face. It served as a reminder to Poseidon that, for all the kindness his demigod child had shown so far, he had certainly inherited his unpredictable temper, too. Later on, when his rage wasn’t quite so fresh, he was sure he’d feel proud of that. “So where were you when we needed you?”

We?

Like a sand tiger shark or a starving herring gull, Poseidon pounced on that new bit of information. “We?” he repeated, tone dangerous. Percy seemed to realise his slip up because he looked around again. Small Bob miaowed threateningly, which Poseidon ignored. Gently, or as gently as he could with the ocean wishing to rush forward from his skin, he took hold of Percy’s arm to grab his attention. He made a vague note of the SPQR trident brand for later reference. “Perseus. Did he harm your mother, too?”

Percy didn’t answer with words, likely gagged by the Moirai from doing so, but the look on his face and in his eyes was answer enough. There was fear there, yes, probably a long-held fear of someone finding out, but underneath that was an old hatred for the human man responsible. If Poseidon forced himself to listen beyond the pounding of hooves in his ears, he could almost hear the distant rumbling of water and earth, something that for once he wasn’t doing.

Then Percy abruptly staggered backwards, collapsing back onto the bench with an exhausted sigh. The distant rumbling lowered in volume. Poseidon watched his child lean his head down to rest his forehead against the cat’s, seeming to take some solace in the presence of the small furry beast. If it were any other sort of land animal, Poseidon might have taken umbrage – he would make an exception this time, though.

“What now?” Percy asked, voice muffled into Small Bob’s fur. “You know about Gabe. Now what?”

“I am a god, Percy, and you know my stories.” He allowed his trident to materialise in the flesh with them just so he could lean on it. He felt as though he needed the support in that moment. “I have punished mortals for far lesser offences than this.” He had punished his own children in times past, when it had been necessary – Proseoous’ banishment would never bring back Halia, but it proved he never showed favouritism.

(Though he had a feeling he would be beginning to show favouritism, now.)

Percy raised his head again and stared at him, unblinking. “You’ll kill him.” Not a question, like he already knew the answer. Like he wasn’t going to object to it.

Poseidon bared his teeth in a facsimile of a smile, shark-like and abyssal, but not offering an answer. Not when his son already knew what his answer would be. If he had delayed Odysseus’ journey home by an entire decade just for the injustice of injuring one of his more monstrous children, he was sure Percy could imagine what he would do to this mortal man for this. (The Father of Monsters, indeed.)

Vanishing his trident again and giving Percy another careful look, Poseidon brought them back to the main chambers, ignoring the looks that they were being immediately sent by the oddly quiet peanut gallery. No doubt Hera had been forced to read out that damnable line, as ordained by the Moirai, if the apologetic look she was sending his way was anything to go by. If anyone tried to bother them, he would send them straight to the deepest sea trenches without an air bubble or oceanic pressure protection.

Annabeth stood up from her place beside Thalia, walking up to them with a steel-eyed purpose until she was stood before them. Poseidon eyed her with a raised eyebrow, a look that sent many demigods, nymphs, and gods alike scattering for the hills. Annabeth merely stared steadily back, crossing her arms and eyes glinting. The cat let out a happy mew at seeing her, and Percy a surprised noise.

“I will kill him myself,” she declared stonily, with such deadly conviction that Poseidon believed her. She was the child of war, and she looked it in that moment.

He also immediately approved of her for his son, despite her being a child of Athena. For that declaration alone, he let the sofa enlarge to the side of his child with a quick thought. Annabeth looked at him, a startled expression briefly passing over her face, before quickly sitting at Percy’s other side before Poseidon could banish her to the other side of the ocean.

He inwardly snorted at the idea. Yes, she might be a child of his most annoying relative, and of Triton’s greatest nemesis, but she seemed to make his child happy. In that moment, Percy needed that happiness. Her help killing the human would also not go amiss, should push come to shove.

"I don't have any cash," … own smell should've covered up everything else.

Athena seemed to realise something important, some of the pallor of her face from before washing away briefly. “Oh, I see what she’s doing.” She nodded to herself, looking almost approving, or as approving as Athena could get. She turned her gaze on Poseidon, a conflicting look passing through her eyes as they passed over Annabeth, gone as quickly as it had appeared. “How ever did you get such a clever mortal to fall for you?”

Poseidon huffed a laugh. “I fell for Sally, first.” He could feel Percy’s inquisitive gaze at the side of his head, which amused him further. “I spent ages trying to persuade her to go on a date with me.” He gave Percy a sideways smile. “I think she only agreed in the end because I was being mopey and whiny.” A pause. “Her words, not mine.”

Percy stared at him again, wide-eyed, before turning to his girlfriend. “Oh my gods.” He didn’t get up from his lounging position against Poseidon’s arm, though, he was pleased to note. He really had the best of both worlds – his son was happy enough and trusted him enough to be close to him, and trusted him enough equally to let his partner be near him. It made him feel rather smug. No wonder Dionysus was like this all the time.

“Amphitrite all over again,” Hermes said in a conspiratorial not-whisper to Apollo, an apparent effort to raise the fog that had lowered over the room in the last however long had passed. Poseidon would have blasted him away with polar sea water if it were any less true.

"You took a taxi from the bus … I right, Eddie?"

The air around them began to rapidly cool into the point where it could rival the polar regions again. Poseidon could see his breath fogging with his deliberately measured exhales. A punishment, the Moirai and their accomplices, Tyche and Nemesis, had called this little exercise. Poseidon understood why it was a punishment, how, just as he understood why the powers of the gods had been restricted like they had (other than to stop unwanted smitings).

Or, rather, he understood how this was his punishment personally. They were letting him see his child nearly grown – yet not quite – and letting him experience what his son had gone through to get to that point, down to the battles. Letting him hear about a mortal man who had dared to lay a hand upon his child, his former lover, yet be powerless to do anything about it at that current moment. They were letting him be near his child, create new memories with him, but had restricted his powers lest he accidentally (or deliberately) bring the entire mountain down on them.

(In that moment, it gave him a new appreciation for his own father’s parting words and gift to him, all those years ago.)

Eddie, the super of the apartment … passed gas in harmony.

By the glint in Aphrodite’s eye, Poseidon could only guess what was going on in her mind. Poseidon watched her exchange a stony glance with Artemis, of all beings, and something like understanding passed between the two of them. They seldom had teamed up in the past, preferring to stay out of the others way unless absolutely necessary, so Poseidon wondered what carnage would result from this.

He was rather eager to find out. So long as they did not touch the filth that had dared to touch that which was his, they could tear apart the others to their hearts’ content. Send them to the maws of the hunting dogs, curse them with any unspeakable primordial horror.

"Fine," I said. I dug a wad of dollars … "I hope you lose."

“Oh, I’m sure that can be arranged.” Hermes’ smile sharpened to a fine point, an abrupt change from his usual calm demeanour. “If not Tyche, then Nemesis will surely bring him down to size. She does hate the haughty.” His expression became slightly more petulant as he added, “Especially on game night.”

Chris gave him a look, looking almost scared as he asked, “Erm, what is game night?” He exchanged looks with Connor and Travis.

His father gave a look of extreme long suffering. Aphrodite looked extremely amused. “Your sister,” he said, sighing tiredly like he wanted to go back to bed just at the mere thought of game night, “likes for us all to get together and play games every once in a while. This has… consequences.”

“I’ll say,” Dionysus drawled from behind yet another can of Diet co*ke, eyebrows raised, “didn’t your last game of Monopoly crash the housing market?”

Clarisse whirled around, the fire in her eyes re-alighting as she pointed at him with an annoyed look. “That was you?” Hermes at the very least looked sheepish about his role in said housing market crash. Clarisse stared at him, eye twitching like she was considering how best to disembowel a god.

"Your report card came, brain boy! … act so snooty!"

Annabeth jolted, a motion sudden enough that Poseidon could feel it through the material of the sofa. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, watched as she turned to his son with a pale expression.

“He used to call you that?” Her fingers dug into the soft skin of her palms, almost like how Percy had been doing with his arms. Poseidon had been carefully noting down instances of that particular behaviour. “But I call you–”

“It’s fine, wise girl,” Percy cut her off gently, turning to face her properly. Poseidon couldn’t see his expression, but he could feel the warmth emanating well enough. He watched his child lean forward, grabbing his girlfriend’s hands. “I like your name for me.”

“I didn’t know it was so close to his, though!”

Percy shrugged. “Never connected the two. It’s about intent, right? Names having power and all that. Yours was never like his.”

Annabeth stared at him, eyes still shining with unshed frustration but something like wonder on her face. If nothing else, that moment alone told Poseidon that the daughter of his least liked niece truly cared for his child. Something on her face shifted, determination perhaps, and she pulled Percy forward into a hug.

“For the record,” she said into his neck, arms tight about his torso, “he was wrong. And so were your teachers.”

Before she let Percy go, she met Poseidon’s eyes briefly over his shoulder, a glint in them again. She would, Poseidon knew then, fight to keep his child happy and safe as much as he himself would.

I slammed the door to my room … his nasty cologne and cigars and stale beer.

Hera’s voice had been gradually turning frigid as she had read that segment, her words over-enunciated in her cool anger. Poseidon understood it perfectly; it took everything in him to keep from freezing the room yet again.

“So you were not given any privacy when you were at home?” Demeter was frowning again, speaking for the first time in a long while that Poseidon had noticed. He wondered how she was taking the news that a child – her nephew, at that, even if they as gods put less value on blood than others did – had been betrayed so horribly by one who was meant to be a protector. He wondered what she would do had it been one of her own daughters in that position.

(He knew what she’d do. They’d seen the world be brought to decimation once before.)

“It’s more common than you think.” Of all there, it was Leo, Hephaestus’ tinkering child, to speak up. “One foster home I was in, they took the doors off our bedrooms.” He shrugged like it was a normal occurrence. Several of the children stared at him in horror, and even Hermes looked disconcerted by the idea.

The words had even finally got Hephaestus to look up from whatever he was going. He looked down at his son with a heavy frown, the expression marring his features that much more. “What do you mean, you were not allowed a bedroom door?” Curls of smoke were beginning to rise from beneath where his fingertips were touching the metal plate of his project, and Leo seemed to realise then that what he’d said was not, in fact, a normal occurrence. Hephaestus’ gaze darkened, and he said lowly, “We’ll discuss this more, later.”

I dropped my suitcase on the bed … old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

“Mortals often make better monsters than actual monsters,” Athena said thoughtfully, something in her voice like consideration. “They don’t have claws or scales, but their inventiveness more than makes up for it.” Annabeth pulled a face, showing that she likely agreed with her mother and did not like that one bit. Once more, Poseidon wondered just what, exactly, had transpired between the two in the future.

“Mortals are also better at leaving mental scars,” Dionysus added mildly. He’d adjusted his sitting position to be slouched against his arm rest, looking as nonchalant as his current surroundings would allow him to be.

But as soon as I thought that, my legs felt weak.

Apollo’s eyes sharpened once more, glints of gold bleeding into his sclera again. He was looking at Percy again with that interested, yet simultaneously distant look. “Interesting,” he said, humming to himself in thought. Will looked to be considering whether he could move places. “A fair amount of time must have passed between your encounter with the Moirai and your getting home, yet you’re still experiencing the after-effects. I wonder why.”

I remembered Grover's look of panic—how he'd made me promise … growing long, horrible talons.

Ares sighed in annoyance, not looking up from the xiphos he was meticulously polishing. “This is why the battle aftercare aspect is so important. But does anyone listen to me? Oh no, of course not.” Poseidon watched in equal parts fascination and almost amusem*nt at the vicious swipe of the cloth across the blade. “It’s not like I’m the god of war and the battlefield or anything. I clearly don’t know sh*t about f*ck.”

Frank was staring at him like he didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or not by the behaviour.

Then I heard my mom's … and my fears melted.

Clarisse nodded in what seemed like approval. “Phobos and Deimos would stand no chance being near Mrs Jackson.” Ares actually looked up from what he was doing to raise an eyebrow at his daughter. Clarisse stared straight back at him, as if daring him to argue with her (valid, in Poseidon’s good and unbiased opinion) assessment. She looked very much like her father in that moment. Frank looked uncomfortable about being in the middle of their staring contest.

“If anything, I think she’d sit them down with cookies,” Annabeth said, smiling like the thought amused her. Clarisse pointed at her with a firm nod, not breaking eye contact with her father.

My mother can make me feel good … change color in the light.

Aphrodite tilted her head to the side slightly, a look appearing in her eyes that seemed to be at once both considering and a realisation. It was gone before Poseidon could get a better read on it, and it left him oddly disjointed, something he wasn’t used to feeling. She didn’t say anything, and Poseidon wondered if anyone else had caught the strange look, but she kept glancing at where Percy sat from the corner of her eye.

He tugged his child closer into his side, careful as always and letting him continue holding hands with his girlfriend. He met Aphrodite’s eyes across the room, a silent question and battle all at once. She merely raised an eyebrow at him, having the gall to look amused.

Her smile is as warm as a quilt … I never think of her as old.

Several looks were levied at Aphrodite. She seemed to break out of the strange mood she had abruptly come under in the last few moments as she noticed them. Tilting her chin, she asked, “What?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything about that,” Apollo said, that touch of snideness in his voice that he always reserved for her and her alone. His teeth glinted in the false overhead sunlight as he smiled sharply. “It seems like the sort of thing you would comment on.”

“Why would I do that?” To her credit, Aphrodite did seem genuinely confused by what Apollo was saying. “There is beauty in a life lived, my dear. Wrinkles and scars and grey hair are just proof of that.”

When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good … not even me or Gabe.

Pushing Aphrodite and her strange behaviour from his mind, Poseidon let himself envisage this version of Sally. It certainly matched with how he remembered her: as a kind woman with only the best of words for people, even her employers and those judgemental mortals. She had even seen Poseidon during one of his great hurricane causing tempers and she had still only had gentle compassion for him. It was little wonder that their child had grown up as he had.

"Oh, Percy." She hugged me tight … the way she always did when I came home.

“And by free samples, do you mean…” Connor trailed off, raising his eyebrows. Travis stared expectantly with his brother.

Percy snorted. “I mean that my mother stole them from the shop for me whenever I came home from school.” Poseidon felt his essence flare in pride as Hermes joined his loud children in cheering. Sally had always been a rebel, and it made perfect sense to him that she would continue that rebellion, even in small ways, to help her son be happy. How he loved her, even after all the years that had passed.

We sat together on the edge of the bed … little boy doing all right?

Hera’s voice regained its lost warmth from earlier, and by the end of that particular segment, she looked up from the book with an almost-warm look in her dark eyes. Percy seemed startled to see it again, as though he was unused to such a performance from his aunt.

“I am glad, Perseus,” she said slowly, softly even, “that you have such a wonderful mother, and that you have such a good relationship with her.” She turned her ox-like eyes on Poseidon. “She almost reminds me of our mother, in a way.” From her hearth, Hestia nodded her agreement, which endorsed Hera’s statement more than anyone else ever could.

Poseidon could see where she was coming from with that thought. Rhea had suffered greatly in the name of motherhood and for her children, staying with their illustrious father in the hopes that he would change. Knowing what he knew, what the others in the room didn’t know, Poseidon had no doubt that Sally had put herself through pain for the sake of their child, too.

I told her she was smothering … really glad to see her.

“We always know, Pretty Boy,” Clarisse snorted. She paused, as though mentally going over what she’d just said. “Huh, didn’t mean to say that.” Another pause, and a shrug in a what can you do about it way. “Sorry, Prissy. Guess you’re stuck with that one too, now.”

Percy stared at her, looking almost betrayed. “What? No. I’d rather you just stick with Prissy.”

Clarisse just smirked at him, like she’d won a long-standing game between the two of them. “No can do, Pretty Boy.”

“I will bury you.”

From the other room, Gabe yelled … I gritted my teeth.

Artemis carefully ran her fingertips along the bowstring of her bow. There was something of the beasts she hunted lurking in the depths of her gaze, the nights when her moon would not shine upon Gaia’s surface. She exchanged a look with Thalia. “I have turned men into grovelling boars for lesser offences.”

Demeter shot her a deeply offended look of her own. “Please. This mortal is undeserving of being turned into a boar.”

Artemis regarded with that predator’s look then inclined her head just a touch, a sign of acquisition. “Of course, Aunt Demeter, you’re quite right. I am unsure what else would befit such a man, though.”

“Oh, there are many things, I’m sure.” Demeter gave her a significant look, glancing in Poseidon’s direction for just a brief second. “However, it is not up to us how he shall be punished, niece.”

My mom is the nicest lady in the world … some jerk like Gabe.

Poseidon turned to regard his son properly, his tone and expression serious as he said, “You said before that she’s married to someone else, now.” Now being the future where his child had just come from, not the now that Poseidon currently resided in. The ebb and flow of time was always a difficult thing to wrap his head around, particularly now the Moirai had got themselves involved so brazenly. “Is–is she happy, at least?”

Percy actually smiled, Small Bob letting out a small trill. “Yeah, I think so.” He ran a hand through the back of his hair. “He’s not a millionaire or anything, but he loves her and me. He’s good.” At his side, Annabeth nodded in agreement, hand curling around his arm and offering pets to the still trilling Small Bob.

For her sake, I tried to sound upbeat … done pretty well in Latin.

That strange look flitted across Aphrodite’s face again, gone in the time it took a mortal to blink. A suspicious twisting, sinking feeling began to make its presence known in the pit of Poseidon’s stomach.

And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said.

“They probably hadn’t, to be honest,” Piper said, speaking for the first time in a while. Poseidon wondered if she could feel the strange energy coming from her mother. She certainly kept sending her the occasional odd look when she seemed to think no one was looking. “They like to, I don’t know, big up things, I guess? Even tiny things.”

I liked Yancy Academy. I really did … didn't seem so bad.

“Lying to yourself is quite the skill to have,” Hermes mused, tapping his jaw thoughtfully. “But not necessarily a good skill to have.” Several people sent him deadpan looks, and Hermes laughed, seeming to realise the hypocrisy of his own words. “Yeah, yeah, god of lying is saying don’t lie. It happens.”

Dionysus seemed to have a different view of thing, as he so often did. Poseidon had often wondered how much of that was due to Dionysus’ different origins to the rest of them. Despite how he acted, there seemed to be some part of his immortal essence that had retained its mortal heart. “Demigods are good at lying to themselves, particularly before being introduced to our world.” He spoke like he was bored. “And Peter there had just had weeks of gaslighting.”

Poseidon felt the air around himself beginning to freeze again at the reminder of that. In the stress of all the other reveals and confessions that this chapter had brought, he had nearly forgotten about Chiron’s role in lying so wilfully his child.

Until that trip to the museum … I thought it would sound stupid.

“She would never think that, from what you’ve said about her,” Hazel said quietly, hands clasped together in her lap. Nico nodded at her.

Percy made a shrugging motion, the movement making Poseidon’s shirt shift slightly. “I didn’t know about any of this, let alone that she knew about any of it. The few times I’d spoken to adults about weird things, they’d always said I was just imagining things. Or lying,” he added in an aside. Rachel nodded to that.

She pursed her lips. She knew I was holding back … "Three nights—same cabin."

Poseidon’s eyes widened slightly, something in his chest warming. “She kept the same cabin?”

He wasn’t entire sure what name to put to the emotion he was feeling. He was unused to feeling such mortal things. He wondered if being able to feel as a mortal could was yet another side effect of having his powers restricted by the Moirai. Was this how Dionysus felt all the time, with feelings so vague and abstract? Were his brothers and sisters feeling this, too?

Percy nodded, sending him a small smile. “Yeah. We still go when we can.”

Leo raised a hand sheepishly. He was doing his best to ignore his father for the time being, apparently. “Erm, question for the stupid people again.” He gestured between himself and Frank, who gave him a truly rancid look. At least it seemed the two were friends and it was merely an act. “What’s the deal with Montauk?”

“Montauk is where I met Sally.” Perhaps it had been providence, them meeting beneath his beloved wife’s Horse Moon shining upon the calm surface of his ocean. He wondered if the Moirai had predetermined the meeting.

"When?" … Gabe said there wasn't enough money.

Thalia’s expression darkened. She looked remarkably like her father in that moment, complete with small fizzles of thunderbolts in the ends of her hair. Jason stared at her in alarm. “I bet there wasn’t,” she said lowly, crossing her arms and leaning back. “He needed it all for his addictions. I bet a lot of Mrs Jackson’s wages went towards that, right?” She directed the question at Percy bluntly, clearly not expecting an answer. She spoke like she had experience on the matter.

If the look on Zeus’ face was anything to go by, Poseidon would almost say his brother was worried by the implications.

Gabe appeared in the doorway … I wanted to punch him,

A flinch ran through Percy’s frame at that. Poseidon frowned, especially when he saw Annabeth leaning forward and murmuring something too low for even his keen ears to pick up on. He resolved to find out the reason for such a thing at a later time, when emotions weren’t so high and tense.

Inwardly, he thought about what he would do once he got his hands around the wretched neck of this human. Poseidon wasn’t even sure yet. He hadn’t been lying to Percy when he had implied that he would kill him (slowly, without mercy), but he hadn’t said how he would do that. He hadn’t said it would be an immediate thing. He was sure his boy knew enough about him to realise that, too.

but I met my mom's eyes … "He won't let us go."

“He will if he knows what’s good for him,” Nico said lightly, faux-friendly. Will sent him a tired look of disapproval, which was soundly ignored.

"Of course he will … just worried about money.

Thalia’s snort was ugly and loud, as derisive as it was possible to get.

That's all. Besides," she added, "Gabriel won't … Sour cream. The works."

A stunned silence as people processed the words, Poseidon included. Then, despite the anger that had made a home for itself in the pit of his chest, he let out a barking laugh, surprising even himself with its suddenness. “Manipulating him with kindness.” He shook his head as another chuckle forced itself forward. “Incredible. Just like the Sally I knew.” To Percy, he said, “I saw a lot of people try and start fights with your mother when I knew her. She would always talk them out of it.”

“Like I said,” Clarisse put in. She seemed to have finally stopped her staring (glaring?) competition with her father. Poseidon hadn’t bothered keeping track of who was winning, though he was a bit curious to know who had won in the end. “Mrs Jackson always wins.”

“Isn’t it interesting that his name’s actually Gabriel?” Hazel seemed thoughtful, looking at the floor with her gaze distant. Hades glanced at her, half-worriedly. At the confused looks some of the other demigods sent her way, she elaborated, “Gabriel is the name of one of the archangels in Christianity, a guardian angel.”

Hades let out a sigh, running his fingers over his eyelids, though he gave Hazel a soft look. “The Moirai enjoy twisting things like that. No doubt they get bored at their loom all day.”

Gabe softened a bit. "So this money for your trip ... it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

Aphrodite stilled, turning into one of her ancient marble statues before everyone’s very eyes. Poseidon could sense the danger lying beneath her skin as easily as he could sense the currents beneath his waters. He watched as she turned to Artemis again, eyes carefully blank and face neutral.

“Artemis, my dear,” she said, and there was something in her tone that made the hairs on the back of Poseidon’s neck stand up on end, something that he had only ever heard a few of the oldest Titans have in their voices, “clothes budget notwithstanding, would you say that this is financial abuse?”

Artemis’ face was like moonlit ice. “Yes. I would.”

"Yes, honey," … "We'll be very careful."

For some reason, Percy and his satyr friend shared a look and snorted at that. Poseidon wondered if his heart rate would survive what was possibly to come, or his blood pressure. Did gods even have blood pressure, as the mortals did? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure he’d end up with a high whatever-it-was by the end of this, along with a plethora of grey hairs.

Gabe scratched his double chin … apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

“How did you interrupt him, though?” Frank was frowning, an unhappy tilt to his mouth. “You only walked through the door.”

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, I thought. And make you sing soprano for a week.

When Aphrodite grinned, it was downright vicious, bringing to mind her Spartan visage and primordial birth. Piper stared at her like she’d never seen her before yet again. Ares looked to be absolutely smitten by her, the fool that he was.

Percy turned to his girlfriend. Poseidon heard him say quietly, “We saw that happening down there.” He didn’t elaborate on where the down there was. Annabeth seemed to understand, though, going by the hum she let out. “Do you think that he’s having that done to him?”

Annabeth’s face twisted into a fierce scowl. “He deserves worse than that.”

But my mom's eyes warned me … Please go back to it right now."

Hades sighed. “Oh, good, there are two of them now.” He gave both Poseidon and Percy an extremely tired look. He looked like he wanted to sink into the shadows in the back of his sofa and never emerge.

Poseidon raised his eyebrows, ignoring the looks sent his way by questioning demigods. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“You asked Father if he’d recovered from his food poisoning the first time we saw him after–well, you know.” His brother brought his fingers to his temples, as though trying to massage away a forming migraine. No doubt he considered Poseidon himself the migraine.

“Oh yes, I remember that.” Demeter gave Poseidon a considering look as she ran a hand through Katie’s hair. “No wonder he disliked you the most, other than our little brother, of course.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zeus scowl. How little his siblings truly knew of their illustrious father’s hatred for him, Poseidon couldn’t help but think.

Gabe's eyes narrowed. His tiny brain … He went back to his game.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, managing to make even that motion look elegant and graceful. She leant back and produced another hand fan out of thin air. “Un imbécile,” she said lightly, smiling when her daughter laughed. What surprised Poseidon, and seemingly Aphrodite too, was the unexpected snort from Frank and the almost scandalised look from Hazel.

"Thank you, Percy," my mom said. "Once we get to Montauk … tell me, okay?"

“A mother always knows when something is wrong,” Apollo said, likely thinking of Leto. Artemis nodded her agreement, hands white-knuckled clenched around her bow. Poseidon certainly wouldn’t argue with that sentiment – while Rhea preferred to keep to herself and her wilds these days, preferring the company of her pride of lions and her retinue of Korybantes, he was still unable to lie to her.

For a moment, I thought I saw anxiety … my mom too felt an odd chill in the air.

“How long must she have been waiting for something bad to happen, do you think?” Percy mused to his girlfriend. Poseidon shamelessly listened in, sensing it wasn’t a private conversation between the two.

Annabeth hummed thoughtfully, reaching underneath his arm to offer more scritches to a sleepy Small Bob. “She probably started preparing the moment you were born. Before that, even. I’ve never met someone who knows as much about our world as she does.” She paused to tuck her legs beneath herself and lean more into Percy’s side. It had the added benefit of pushing Percy further yet into Poseidon’s side in turn, so he allowed it. “She was very quick with getting Paul up to speed, too.”

Paul. There was that name, again. Presumably the name of the man Sally had married, the one who Percy seemed to like and said made her happy. He made a note of it in the back of his mind, absently running a hand through his child’s hair just because he could.

But then her smile returned, and …. An hour later we were ready to leave.

“Good. Leave and never go back,” Jason said, voice firm like he could will it into being with just his conviction. Poseidon might be have been irritated at the near-demand, but the boy seemed to be one of Percy’s friends.

“I mean, you’re not far off with that,” Percy said, a smile creeping across his face slowly.

Gabe took a break from his poker game long enough … for the whole weekend.

Poseidon shared a cold look with Hera, her eyes frigid over the top of the book spine. He wondered how she was planning on making this human suffer for this. His sister might have her many faults, as did they all, but she was unquestionably devoted to the idea of a happy marriage. To her, both spouses must love each other completely, be there for one another through thick and thin. It was what made being married to Zeus so hard, he suspected – she loved him dearly and completely, yet had to watch him be with others repeatedly. In a lot of ways, he felt sorry for her.

“Brother,” she said, the over-enunciation in her voice an indication that she was only barely keeping her own anger in check, “when you enact your own vengeance, please allow me to be there with you.”

He could sense Percy’s wide-eyed stare at his side. Not looking at it though, he merely offered Hera a nod. She continued staring at him for another long moment, then began reading again, apparently satisfied.

"Not a scratch on this car … little scratch."

“He does know cars can get scratched just from pebbles on the road, yes?” Apollo’s expression was extremely dubious. “Has he never actually driven it before?”

“Oh no, he drives it,” Percy assured him, shifting where he sat so he could apparently make the cat more comfortable. “It was the only thing he actually spent money on, besides the gambling and beer.”

Like I'd be the one driving … a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame me.

“If a gull did that, rest assured it would not be an accident,” Poseidon intoned lowly, already making and discarding plans to have the most vicious of his herring and black-backed gulls attack the human. “They would know you’re of the sea, as they are, and would be acting in accordance with my wishes.”

Percy turned just enough to look at him, eyebrow raising. “Your wishes are for one to poop on my old stepdad’s car?”

“To start with.”

Watching him lumber back toward the apartment building … as if he'd been shot from a cannon.

Poseidon turned to look at his son again, noting out of the corner of his eye as other gods did the same. Apollo had that golden-eyed look of interest on his face again, whereas his brothers looked much as they had during the first chapter, when Percy had first used his powers without any sort of training.

“I don’t get it,” Rachel admitted, causing Poseidon to glance at her next. She was looking around, seemingly searching for answers. Many of the other children seemed to feel similarly. “What did he do?”

“That’s a very old invocation of protection,” Hestia said, carefully putting her hands into the flames of the hearth and letting more warmth suffuse into the room around them. Poseidon hadn’t quite realised how cold the room had become, likely due to him, until that moment. “It was used a lot in the ancient times, particularly by Pan’s followers, but it’s rarely used now, as most of the power is gone from it. At best, it’s symbolical.”

“So it’s interesting that mini-Poseidon could do it.” Apollo leaned his chin into his palm, looking thoughtful.

Maybe it was just the wind … told my mom to step on it.

“Mrs Jackson can sure drive when she wants to,” Thalia nodded, exchanging a smile with Percy and Annabeth. No doubt yet more things that would probably make an appearance in the books.

Our rental cabin was on the south shore … the sea was too cold to swim in.

“And this was where your mother met Poseidon?” Aphrodite asked, speaking specifically to Percy as though Poseidon himself was absent from the room. Percy nodded, a smile on his face, and Aphrodite let out a sigh. “A lovely setting. Many of the best stories begin at the beach. It’s just such a romantic setting.”

Dionysus, oddly enough, nodded in agreement, much to the apparent surprise of the children. No doubt he was thinking of when he’d met Ariadne upon the shores of Naxos.

I loved the place … there since I was a baby.

Poseidon startled. “For so long?”

Percy nodded. “She said later that she wanted me to have a connection to you, even if you couldn’t be there yourself.” He shrugged, looking and sounding awkward. “Not like she could be kept away from the sea for long, either.”

Poseidon once again didn’t know what name to give to the warm fluttering feeling within his false chest. There had been times throughout the years – always in the summer, now that he actually thought about it – where Poseidon had been busy in meetings on Olympus or when he had been stuck in a court session in Atlantis, where he had suddenly sensed his child’s presence more strongly than usual. He, of course, could always feel Percy’s presence, just as he could feel Triton and Rhodos and Benthesikyme and Kymopoleia, but those moments seemed to increase the connection.

Sally had to have known what she was doing. Giving him the chance to feel his child, even if he couldn’t see him for himself. Once more, he wondered what he had done to deserve her and their child.

My mom had been going even longer … Her eyes turned the color of the sea.

Aphrodite’s face got that strange look across it again, glancing Percy’s way in a lightning fast blink. Poseidon was beginning to have a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach again.

“That’s an interesting detail. Perhaps she has some old nereid or oceanid blood in her?” Athena looked contemplative, as she so often did whenever there was a new puzzle before her to solve. “It would certainly explain a lot of the more stranger things that have occurred. Even just a drop of nereid blood would make Poseidon’s offspring have a slightly higher ichor to blood ratio than normal.”

Athena’s attempt to other his child notwithstanding, Poseidon did not think that was the answer, as convincing a one it was.

We got there at sunset … fed blue corn chips to the seagulls,

“Not too many, I hope?” Artemis gave Percy a stern look, though she at the very least didn’t look at him as she had so often looked at male heroes throughout the years. If anything, she looked like an expectant teacher or mentor.

Percy smiled, much to Poseidon’s surprise. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised at his child continuing to surprise him. It did seem to be a running theme. “Of course not, my Lady. We only gave them a few and told them to go fishing if they were hungry. They actually listened to us, which we always found funny, though I guess in hindsight it isn’t that weird.” He jerked his head in Poseidon’s direction, and Artemis nodded at him approvingly.

and munched on blue jelly beans … I guess I should explain the blue food.

“Actually, yeah, that’d be good,” Leo piped up, knocking stray bits of metal and wiring to the floor. Poseidon saw Zeus twitch out of the corner of his eye at the noise again. “All I saw on–you know where was blue food.”

See, Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing.

Annabeth blinked, looking stupefied. “There’s… no such thing?” She blinked again, looking at Percy. “Had he not heard of blueberries? Or blackcurrants?”

Percy snorted. “That man has never eaten a fruit in his life.” Demeter let out a truly scandalised gasp, which everyone ignored for the time being lest they get caught in a never-ending cycle of fruit and grains. “Of course he didn’t know about them.”

They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing … She did have a rebellious streak, like me.

Zeus stared at him, looking somewhere between impressed and mildly constipated. “You managed to find the one mortal woman who is as rebellious as you.” He let out a sigh, eerily similar to the one Hades had done earlier. “I dread to think how your child is going to turn out.”

“That certainly explains a few things about Percy,” Frank said, looking amused. Hazel snorted, startling Hades with its suddenness, and Percy gave them both a look of faux-long suffering.

“Wow,” he said blandly, though Poseidon could see the smile threatening to break free, “I see how it is. You tell a guy to suck it one time and suddenly you’re a problem child.”

When it got dark, we made a fire … I never got tired of hearing them.

“None of us do,” Piper said, though there was something downcast in her expression. Yet another story that would most likely be told in the books, if Poseidon had to guess. “My dad always talked about how beautiful Mom was.” A shrug. Aphrodite was watching her carefully. “I don’t think he ever got over her.”

"He was kind, Percy," she said. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too.

“It’s interesting that so far, your child has shown that you were in one of your better moods with his mother,” Zeus said thoughtfully, looking at him with another of those inquisitive expressions. “All the better for us as well. Khaos knows what we’d do if he’d turned out anything like how Poseidon is during storm season.”

Poseidon decided against telling him that even the calmest of seas could be deadly to the unaware. A calm surface could hide the strongest ocean currents within, could be deceiving with its depths and drown the unworthy. Calm seas could merely be the eye of the storm.

You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes."

“Many of our kids inherit at least something from us,” Hermes hummed, eyes flitting between Poseidon’s face and Percy’s like he was searching for any small difference, “but it’s rare that one of our children looks so much like us.”

There was more to it than that, Poseidon thought. Yes, his son had inherited much of his looks from him, but children of the Elder Gods – his brothers and sisters – were far more likely to look like their parents than the younger generation. The younger gods changed up their appearances far more often, the various ancient artworks a testament to that fact. Poseidon himself had kept his features mostly the same since the days of the Titanomachy, as had his siblings.

It was as much about honouring their beloved mother as it was about remembering what each of them could become. All of them were born from Kronos, after all, and each of them had at least a grain of their father’s anger and cruelty. No matter how much they tried not to think about it.

Mom fished a blue jelly bean … of school for the sixth time in six years.

“I am proud,” Poseidon said firmly, a touch of vicious possessiveness in his tone. Percy blinked at him, looking startled at the outburst, and he brought his hand to Percy’s hair again. “I care not for mortal things like that. You are of the sea, which is far more important. Never forget that.”

Percy averted his eyes down to the sleeping cat on his lap. “You won’t be saying that when you hear more about what I’ve done.” Annabeth gave him a worried look from the side. Poseidon ignored her for the time being.

“Perseus, you will find that it will take an exceedingly large amount to make me reconsider.” He had fathered both heroes and monsters alike over the many millennia, and very often the lines between the two had blurred. Some of his more monstrous children had been some of his kindest, whilst some of his children who were born to be heroes had been some of the cruellest. No matter what they did, they were all his. Even Proseoous was still his son, no matter his banishment after Halia’s murder.

"How old was I?" … Right here at this beach. This cabin."

“Right, that’s something that’s always confused me,” Percy said, turning to regard Poseidon with a weird look in his eye. “Mom said you only knew each other for a summer, and obviously I believe her, so how come I was born in August?”

Poseidon inclined his head as he answered, thinking how best to phrase it. “Demigods are half-gods, half-human. A human gestation period is nine months, yes?” Percy, and several of the children nodded uncertainly, perhaps wondering where Poseidon was going with this. “A demigod’s gestation period tends to be longer, especially if you’re the child of me or my siblings. It’s a god’s ichor and essence tying together with a human form. It’s… delicate work.” That’s how Amphitrite had once described it, at least, from her own sanctuary on Tinos. That demigods were born at all had to be the will of the Moirai.

Percy wrinkled his nose and pulled a face. Poseidon wished he had a camera for that moment, to capture it on paper for eternity. “So we’re whales?”

“If you like,” Poseidon shrugged, smiling when Percy frowned at him.

"But... he knew me as a baby." … He had to leave before you were born."

He let out a sigh, tugging his child closer without a word. Annabeth let him go without complaint, which Poseidon was pleased about, at least.

I tried to square that with the fact … A warm glow. A smile.

“And you really didn’t tell her that you’d visited?” Percy had attempted to twist around to see him, apparently come to the conclusion that it would be a futile effort, and had just resigned himself to his fate.

“No. I had never intended for anyone to know.” He shifted his gaze to Zeus and narrowed his eyes at him. His brother must have sensed his still-there wrath, barely restrained beneath the surface, because he merely looked away instead of engaging in an argument like he usually would. “That you remember is surprising. But good, though,” he added, in case Percy thought he wasn’t pleased about it when he was.

He might have stayed away from his son for his entire childhood, but he was pleased that he got to keep at least one memory of Poseidon with him.

I had always assumed he knew me as a baby … now we were stuck with Smelly Gabe.

Percy turned to him, perhaps to try and deny those old feelings, but Poseidon held up a hand to gently halt him. “Percy, I don’t blame you for feeling that way. In a way, I would be surprised if you didn’t, especially considering that human you lived with.” It took everything within his being to keep his form together just at the mere thought of that mortal filth. Even if his son could survive seeing hints of his abyssal forms, he knew that the other children would not, and that would make Percy upset at him.

“Surely it would do no harm for you to see your children, even if only occasionally?” Hestia said gently, hands folded demurely in her lap, not a lick of soot on her despite her close proximity to the hearth. Had it been anyone else asking the question, Poseidon was sure they would have received an earful. As it was, Zeus’ eye merely twitched. “I know there are the Ancient Laws, Brother,” she continued, before Zeus could say anything, “but they were written back when we had temples and cults and regular worship. Surely a relationship with the children wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”

She turned her gaze back into the flames. “How many of us have Faded because we were forgotten about?”

"Are you going to send me away again?" … For your own good. I have to send you away."

“No mother likes sending their child away, even for just a few moments,” Demeter said softly, gaze distant. Even after all of the millennia that had passed, Poseidon knew that she still struggled with watching Persephone leave for the Underworld every autumn, no matter how willingly she went.

Her words reminded me of what Mr. Brunner … "Safe from what?"

“I’m more interested in the far enough away comment,” Apollo hummed, still slouching sideways over his armrest and looking more like a liquid than a god. “We know she was trying to keep you from monsters, but what location was she trying to keep you safe from?”

“Olympus, or the Empire State Building, if I had to guess,” Dionysus yawned. He looked like was about to fall asleep, eyes extremely bloodshot even without the influence of his wine. “Or even that little camp, if she was determined to keep him with her.” He glanced lazily in Poseidon’s direction, eyebrow raised. “How much did you tell her anyway, old man?”

Poseidon shrugged. “Enough for her to keep herself and our son safe.” He’d said to stay away from the Empire State Building unless absolutely necessary, to stay away from a specific part of Central Park, and to keep away from where the camp was unless she wanted to send him there. Too many forces in those places that could have reported back to the wrong eyes and ears, and she’d picked up on that right away.

The sea and the rivers were safe, though. Even if the rivers had their own gods, Poseidon still had some dominion over them, and the water in Percy’s veins wouldn’t immediately be noticeable as the sea at a younger age. Or if it had been, he would have simply to have been assumed to have been a child of an oceanid or a nereid.

She met my eyes, and a flood of memories came back to me … the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

“One of your underlings, I presume?” Zeus sounded resigned to the fact that Poseidon had flagrantly abused the loopholes of the Ancient Laws, looking exhausted and like he just wanted the day to be over with. “It sounds like they were trying to grab him and bring him back to you.” There was a slight accusatory tone at the end.

“Peace, Brother.” Poseidon rolled his eyes for good measure, though internally frowned at the behaviour exhibited by the cyclops within the book. “I had already told anyone I sent to remain unseen and to not touch him. This one, it seems, did not follow my orders.” He was sure he could easily find out who the cyclops in question was. They had, after all, nearly endangered his child. “They probably thought that by bringing me my son, they would receive a promotion within the forges.”

“At least it’s just that.” Poseidon raised an eyebrow at Hermes’ relieved sounding tone. Seeming to realise that he’d been having an entire conversation in his head, Hermes continued, “I kind of thought you’d accidentally sent a noncey cyclops to watch your son.”

Poseidon stared at him, so dumbfounded that he wasn’t even sure what his face was doing in that moment. Hermes cringed at whatever was going on on his expression, though. Not even wanting to answer that ridiculous sentence with words, Poseidon just sighed and waved a hand, paying no mind to the outraged spluttering of Hermes as water landed on him. He made sure to have it avoid his sons, though.

Before that—a really early memory … a snake had slithered into.

“Somehow, I doubt that it was an accident.” Artemis’ voice was dark. “No one can miss seeing a snake in a child’s crib, much less if they live in a city like the types we have today.”

Poseidon forced himself to count backwards, a technique that Amphitrite had often tried to get him to use to quell his rage. He’d often not had need of it, but was regretting not practising such a technique now.

“Oh.” Percy sounded surprised, and it was enough to jolt Poseidon out of his increasing anger again. “Huh. Didn’t expect that.” He frowned to himself then, finally looking concerned as the situation warranted. “Who would’ve done that, then? No one here, other than Dad, knew about me then.”

An extremely worrying thought, one that once more made Poseidon want to drag himself and his child down to the depths where the invisible threat would never dare touch him. Amphitrite would understand, he was sure, and Triton would come around. What if the would-be killer was still out there, biding their time and waiting to strike again? What if that would-be killer was the reason for his cyclops seemingly going rogue?

There were far too many possibilities to consider and Poseidon did not like a single one of them. It was a wonder Apollo hadn’t gone insane with the weight of such knowledge, yet.

My mom screamed when she came to pick me up … and I was forced to move.

“I wonder if the reason for you firing the cannon at your school bus was because you saw something,” Ares said mildly, once again not looking up from his xiphos. The doru stood propped up behind the sofa, glinting in the overhead light. “Your first instinct in your first battle was to swing a sword, despite no training. And the book said you hadn’t been aiming for the school bus. So you probably saw something and aimed without thinking.” Ares glanced up, looking annoyed again at all the looks being sent his way. “Fight or flight fall under my domains.”

“That… that makes sense.” Percy looked like he was eating rocks as he agreed with Ares, face twisted into a grimace. “I don’t remember anything other than firing the cannon. Though I guess that could’ve been the Mist.”

I knew I should tell my mom about the old ladies … strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I didn't want that.

Apollo gave him a strange look. “Again with the strange feelings, mini-Poseidon. I really do have to wonder…” He trailed off, seemingly continuing the sentence in the privacy of his own mind. Between Apollo’s strange, almost obsession and Aphrodite’s behaviour, Poseidon felt like he would have grey hairs just from the stress of those two alone.

"I've tried to keep you as close … They told me that was a mistake.

“Wait, they?” Percy sounded confused. “I didn’t catch this the first time. I know she spoke to Chiron that year, but who else is she talking about?” He looked in Grover’s direction, eyebrows furrowed. “You didn’t talk to her, right G-Man?” The satyr shook his head, and Percy let out a noise of frustration. It didn’t seem to be aimed at anyone in particular, from what Poseidon could gather. “So if it wasn’t Chiron or Grover, who was she talking about?”

Another worrying question. Poseidon couldn’t help but wonder if Sally had somehow come across more creatures from their world in the years between Percy’s birth and the book before them, perhaps even other gods. They must’ve been able to sense that she had given birth to a demigod, but not whose demigod. Perhaps whoever the mysterious person was, they had merely been trying to help, pointing out that many demigods didn’t survive outside of the safety of Camp Half-Blood.

(Or, the voice in the back of Poseidon’s mind murmured softly, the mysterious person had something to do with the dangerous occurrences that had happened at Percy’s schools.)

But there's only one other option, Percy … I just can't stand to do it."

Dionysus sighed, flopping his head back so it was resting along the back of his sofa. “Typical. That’s how demigods get killed.”

"My father wanted me to go to … "A summer camp."

Several heads turned in Poseidon’s direction. “You told her about the camp, too?” Zeus seemed bemused by the idea.

“Of course I did. I told you, I told her what she needed to know to keep herself and Percy safe.” He scratched at his beard with his free hand thoughtfully. “I said the camp would be a safe place for him, that he would be in danger because he’s my son.”

My head was spinning. Why would my dad … But if it's only a summer camp ..."

“A lot of us stay all year round,” Miranda said, carefully placing her bowl that Demeter had given her the previous chapter on the bowl.

Poseidon nodded. “I told her that he could be there all the time for extra safety. I may have, ah, misexplained how the camp works. She may have thought that by doing that, she would never see Percy again. That he wouldn’t be able to come home even just for visits.” He rubbed at his jaw again, considering. He did have a bad habit of picking the wrong words at the most crucial moment, so it was entirely possible he had bungled telling Sally about how the camp worked.

She turned toward the fire, and … That night I had a vivid dream.

“Oh, good,” Percy huffed out in an annoyed sounding breath, leaning against Poseidon’s side more heavily again and continuing to hold Annabeth’s hand. “It’s not enough I dreamt those dreams once, I get to relive them!”

It was storming on the beach … trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf.

Several eyes, both of the children and of the gods, turned to Poseidon and Zeus in turn. Poseidon was just puzzled on his end, as he was sure his brother equally was. He was certain that this dream had to be about him and his younger brother; no other gods had the horse and eagle as their sacred animals. Why would they be trying to kill each other, though? To the point that it was showing up in a demigod’s dream?

Meeting Zeus’ gaze, he seemed just as lost about the whole affair as he was, which was a small comfort.

The eagle swooped down and … somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

“Normally I would say that is Hades, but that doesn’t sound like Hades’ normal style,” Athena said with a frown, likely already going through countless possibilities as to why her father and Poseidon would be fighting to such a degree. Hades looked deeply offended at her words, but chose to say nothing.

“Much as it pains me, I have to agree.” Demeter was pulling a face at defending Hades, particularly after she had spent so much time since these books had appeared fighting with him. “If that were Hades, he would be up there punching both of them himself.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chris look vaguely ill, his brothers and Clarisse murmuring things to him. Hermes looked mildly worried, but even he didn’t seem to be able to hear what was being said.

I ran toward them … but I was running in slow motion.

Slow motion? Those words caught in Poseidon’s brain as fish catch in the tendrils of a siphonophore, chills he rarely felt running along the back of his neck and making his hair stand on end. It could mean nothing, of course – not every detail in a demigod dream had hidden symbolism – but the fact that it had been so explicitly mentioned had his head running. Slow motion never meant good things, in Poseidon’s experience. Perhaps he was merely on edge from the all the recent revelations, from that mortal to the idea that there could have been an unknown, rogue deity stalking his child for years, but he really did not like what it meant.

Especially given that his child was involved.

Almost by accident, he met Hestia’s gaze across the room. She seemed to feel much the same as he did, tendrils of worry and even fear flickering across her face.

I knew I would be too late … and I screamed, No!

“Even before you knew who you were, you subconsciously knew.” Apollo’s eyes gleamed golden again, though that time at least it was fast diffusing and leaving behind his usual blue.

I woke with a start … twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery.

“Something has truly made you angry, then,” Athena murmured, like she was talking to herself than to anyone around them. “Going by your history, I can only imagine that it relates to your offspring, here.”

Poseidon pursed his lips at her wording again, but decided it wasn’t worth the energy getting into an argument with her. She was right, of course – some of his biggest tempests over the millennia had been due to his children. He obviously had no idea what could have caused the one in the book or what could have triggered his temper so, given that it was a future event, but he could make his own educated guess.

And that guess was that someone had discovered Percy’s identity, was threatening his life. The very sort of thing that Poseidon would not stand for.

With the next thunderclap … an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on end.

Poseidon watched Percy exchange a nervous glance with Grover, the satyr looking almost terrified of something. It had to be a monster that was causing that, there was no other explanation. How had his child attracted both the attention of the Moirai and another monster on the same day? Perhaps the three old ladies really did do everything as a form of sick entertainment for themselves, as Hades had once sarcastically suggested. Why would they need TV serials and programmes when they can just manipulate real life to their liking?

Then a much closer noise … in her nightgown and threw open the lock.

“Prepared to act the minute she’s awake.” Ares nodded his approval. Poseidon felt like he should send a jet of water just for that, though he wasn’t sure why. “Good instincts, there. Those probably kept you both alive all these years.”

Grover stood framed in the doorway … wasn't exactly Grover.

“Oh, no.” Grover covered his hands with his face, more red beginning to spill across the skin that was visible yet again. “I’d forgotten about this. That I hadn’t told you about this.” He lifted his hands from his face to gesture down to where his furry legs were.

“Is this where you lose your pants?” Thalia’s grin was sharp, reminding everyone just what the title of this strange chapter was. Grover groaned and sunk further down into the sofa, hands covering his face again.

"Searching all night," he gasped … not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

“To be fair, you didn’t tell him anything other than to call you at your summer home,” Hazel pointed out, smiling slightly though there was a hint of stress beneath the expression. Grover let out a muffled noise. “I wouldn’t have believed you, either. Sorry,” she added, as though she’d said something scathing and not completely reasonable.

"Percy," she said, shouting to be heard over the rain … I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

“Typical response to the Mist being lifted for demigods,” Apollo nodded, summoning a glass of something violently colourful to his hand and slurping noisily at the straw. Will winced at the obnoxious noise. “You’ve spent your whole life mostly seeing the mortal world, then suddenly you’re seeing things how they really are.” He made an explosion gesture with his free hand, apparently not willing to put his newly acquired glass down. “Brain can’t comprehend what it’s seeing.”

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi! … Didn't you tell her?"

“What does that mean?” Reyna asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Right, Poseidon had forgotten that a good few of the demigods there were Romans. That was bound to be an interesting explanation when it inevitably came up in the pile of books.

“By Zeus and all the gods,” Annabeth supplied promptly, “or that’s the nearest translation, anyway.”

I was too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly.

“Your brain’s going in overtime right now,” Dionysus drawled. There was a small mountain of Diet co*ke cans to rival Mount Etna at the side of his armrest. “The lifting of the Mist so suddenly making everything go haywire up there.” He gestured vaguely to his own head.

I was too shocked to wonder how Grover … her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

“All those years waiting for something to happen, and it finally happened.” Hestia shook her head, something mournful on her face. “I can’t imagine the terror she must have felt then.”

“Remind me to seek out Sally Jackson when we’re done here,” Hera said quietly, raising an eyebrow at the look Poseidon sent her and the growl at the back of his throat. “Oh, do be calm, Brother. Do you think I would harm a mother such as she?”

He resisted saying that, historically, yes, his sister had harmed mothers before, many of whose children were sat in the very same room with them. It was an old argument, though, and not one Poseidon was currently interested in going over again.

She grabbed her purse … "Get to the car. Both of you. Go !"

Ares nodded to himself again. “She would’ve gone far in Sparta. That’s the sorta attitude we loved and respected.” His eyes slanted towards Aphrodite, and Poseidon watched his expression turn considering for a brief moment before it vanished. Poseidon felt strangely out of the loop again, a feeling he really was not used to, and he resolved to fix it as soon as he was able.

Grover ran for the Camaro—but he wasn't running, exactly … There were cloven hooves.

“What a way to find out about our world for real,” Frank breathed out, looking as stressed as Poseidon felt.

“Oh, Rachel still has me beat,” Percy said with a small smile. Over on Apollo’s sofa, Rachel gave an ugly snort. Yet another story there for a later telling, then, Poseidon presumed.

As the others seemingly digested all that had been said and all that they had heard – all the new information that they had learnt about their friend, in the case of the children – Poseidon turned to his child, ignoring Annabeth again for the time being. Percy glanced at him, a confused look passing over his face.

“For the record,” he said, entirely serious and forcing his form to remain in its most human-appearing form, “I meant what I said before.”

Percy averted his eyes, gaze locking onto the quietly purring Small Bob still on his knee. “About what?”

Poseidon stared. “You know what.” He would not repeat the conversation, not because he did not trust Annabeth – she seemed as willing to kill that human as he himself did – but because he did not want to dredge up any more memories quite yet, not when it was not necessary. Judging by the glint in her eyes, she had an idea what he was alluding to.

Percy looked back at him. He looked deeply exhausted now, like he needed to lie down and sleep for a month, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. He met Poseidon’s gaze fearlessly and after a moment merely nodded. Bits of that old hatred were still in the depths. Poseidon leaned back, inwardly pleased. As much as he wanted – needed – to do away with the mortal responsible for such a heinous sin, he also hated to do anything that would upset his child.

He tuned back into the conversations happening around them in time to hear Grover approach, looking so nervous he looked like he was about to faint on the spot. He carefully avoided Poseidon’s gaze, searching out Annabeth’s as quickly as he could. She sat up, a curious look passing over her own face.

“Grover,” she greeted, smiling slightly, “what’s up?”

Grover fidgeted with the aluminium tin he’d brought with him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere than the current location at that moment. “Just, erm. Coming up is how Percy and I got to camp.” He gave her a significant look that meant absolutely nothing to Poseidon, but seemed to mean something to Annabeth. “And everything that–happened then.”

Annabeth’s expression shuttered, like she’d slipped a war helmet over her face. She nodded at him, turned to Percy and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then stood up. When Percy went to grab at her hand, she let a smile crack through her expression. “I’ll just be over there,” she said, gesturing to where Thalia was sitting with her head tilt, “and given what happens next, you’ll wanna be with your dad.”

Percy stared at her for another long moment before sighing. “I hate when you’re right.”

Annabeth laughed, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “No, you don’t.” Standing up properly, she said, finally letting go of his hand, “I’ll see you later, seaweed brain.”

“Right back at you, wise girl.”

With that, Annabeth and Grover left to return to their own seats, leaving Poseidon alone with his child and his child’s cat once again. He internally mulled over the cryptic words that had passed between the three of them. Clearly something had happened to them, was going to happen very soon, but they weren’t saying what. No doubt they were forbidden from saying what the what in question was, as they were forbidden from speaking about anything from the future.

Logically, he knew that. Still, it irritated Poseidon not knowing what to expect. His stress levels were already through the roof, to say nothing of his growing rage.

Casting his gaze about the room for something to get his mind off his constant internal wanderings, his eyes landed on Hera. She was leaning elegantly on the arm of her armchair, the book delicately placed in her lap with a bookmark to hold its place. She met his gaze, smiled sharply, then stood. Rather than walking to him as he had expected, Hera instead crossed the short distance between herself and Zeus.

“Lord Husband,” she drawled, still smiling like a peaco*ck about to peck a victim to death, “how about you read the next chapter? It will set a good example for your children.” Zeus spluttered, perhaps an attempt to come up with an excuse to not read said book, and Hera merely rolled her eyes, shoved the book at his chest, and floated off back to her armchair before he could give it back.

“Sorry, Father,” Hermes said, a laugh in his voice at the display. Zeus turned a glare on him, making Hermes laugh again. “As the mortals say, no takesy backsies.”

Zeus turned his eyes heavenward and let out the most tired sounding sigh to date, like he could meditate himself out of his situation. As if his brother had ever meditated in his life. Poseidon concentrated on not thinking about the upcoming chapter for a few moments.

He wasn’t sure his stress levels could handle much more.