Chapter Text
His pity party was broken by a quiet knock on his door.
Percy waited a moment for the person on the other side of the door to identify themself, only to receive just another knock. He let out a raspy sob and tried to steady his expression as he cracked the door open, making sure the wave of water on the other side didn’t spill inside.
Triton stood on the other side, hovering on the bounds. For once, he wasn’t radiating an aura of superiority. Instead, he looked so apologetic and sheepish that he seemed to be physically smaller. Guess they were finally having that conversation.
He stepped to the side, giving Triton space to walk in. His half-brother coughed awkwardly, his twin tails wriggling with extra emphasis.
“Ah.” Percy nodded, “Bring some water in, if you like. Just don’t drip it onto anything except the floor.” Triton nodded and let himself inside with a large blob of water.
Knowing the gods, Percy had expected some more hemming and hawing and deliberately edging around the topic at hand. However, in a pleasant surprise, Triton admitted, “I was scared that you were going to replace me, because our entire family likes you so much more than me. So I was jealous, and I wanted to ice you out, and I know you’re going to say that I should know better because I’m a thousand years old or whatever, so I don’t know why I’m even confessing all this when you’re only going to mock me.”
Oh. Percy paused, trying to sort through everything he had been told.
He’d seen Triton’s rejection of him in the god’s home ground and had been hurt by it. But he hadn’t thought that maybe the other guy was also going through something. But now Triton was trying to make amends here, and he should probably reciprocate.
“I… don’t mean to come off as if I’d belittle you.” He admitted, “Sorry. That’s my attitude about Olympians, who have power over the world and have responsibilities to their kids and shit. I don’t really judge everyone.”
Triton puffed up a little, slightly offended, “Are you insinuating I don’t have power?”
“Nope. Loads of power. That fight with the serpent and the anglerfish creatures? You were badass there.” Percy jumped to assure him, “I meant on a family-relations level. You’re still allowed to have feelings, you know? Without causing an apocalypse-level natural disaster.”
He relaxed a little, smiling a little, though it looked a little pained, “Oh. I… see.”
“I’m not trying to replace you.” Percy continued, “Between you and me, everyone clearly loves you a lot. You’re trusted and cared for, and there was no replacing you.”
Triton nodded, “I said some uncalled for things to you. Especially the fight that made you run away. Father was right, your life was in danger there, and I never wanted you to die.”
“It’s okay.” Percy agreed, “We just gotta do better from now on.”
“We’ll do better.” Triton repeated.
And for a while, things between them really were better.
Triton took him on a short tour to the parts of the palace he liked the most, recounting a few stories of the construction, and squabbles between their other siblings from centuries past. Percy walked him through the process of getting a GED and how the American higher education system worked -which kinda gave the god a crisis, so to blow off steam, they had ended up having a proper duel.
(Don’t let it get out, but swords weren’t Triton’s forte.)
Then Percy woke up a few days later, feeling a little groggier than usual. It was a sensation that went unnoticed, because Percy was not a morning person. Until he wandered outside and choked on a mouthful of saltwater, because the thin membrane of air around him didn’t get put up subconsciously.
He didn’t drown or anything. He could breathe underwater. The flavor of seawater was just not something he liked. And it was strange because the membrane should have been there, before he had to conjure it up with his thoughts properly. He never had to think on it before it came up naturally. Why now?
Maybe he was coming down with something, he had to consider as the mild grogginess of waking up slowly, over the course of the day, calcified into a proper headache. Hades, with the way his eyes were burning and his hydrokinesis kept stalling, he felt like he had gotten a fever.
“Percy, are you okay?” Triton asked, hovering in front of him, “Your movements seem unbalanced.”
Percy took a moment to process his question before nodding, “Oh, yeah. Perfectly fine.” He yawned, “Think I’ll take a midday nap.”
“But we haven’t even had lunch yet!” Triton called after him, yet by the grace of some god out there, did not follow. Percy was coming to grips with the fact that he was definitely sick.
Here of all places. Twenty thousand leagues under the sea or however deep this was meant to be. Percy Jackson would be the only one to get sick at such an inopportune moment. And more importantly: the hell had he gotten sick from? They were at the bottom of the sea, as stated before. Bacteria just didn’t work the same way, and him being a son of Poseidon was supposed to grant him goodwill from all the creatures who dwelled here.
There was one exception for that rule, though, he had to remember at the phantom pain of the wound on his leg from his brief foray in the bad part of the ocean.
He’d been given ambrosia as soon as he’d gotten back to the palace, it was true, but was there a chance some sort of poison had still made it way in? Or was the water there itself evil to breathe in, like when they fought against Kym?
It was embarrassing, that he had walked out of that encounter alive, only to be brought down by the long-term effects of that encounter. What was he supposed to tell Poseidon?
In the delirium of the rapidly increasing fever, Triton’s words came back to him. His family down here cared about him. Even though he was mortal, and they were all going to outlive him. He was going to barely be a blip in their life spans, and yet they saw him as strong. Someone to be looked up to.
Would that still stand… if they remembered how easily humans crumbled away?
He didn’t want his dad to worry. He didn’t want Triton to see him differently. He didn’t want to see Amphitrite’s opinion of him take a nosedive into the Marianas Trench. He would have to get through this on his own.
How hard could it be?
He had drifted into sleep before he even knew what was happening. When he woke up… he decided that he felt marginally better.
Ignore the weird dizzy feeling he got when he turned too fast (a constant motion when navigating underwater). And the extra thought he had to put in to make sure water was properly being dissipated into his lungs to allow him to breathe underwater. And his sinuses feeling like they were stuffed full of cement. Compared to last night, he was feeling great!
He cautiously left his room, keeping an eye out for any notable people wandering about the palace halls. There were a lot of people he should probably seek out, but Percy didn’t really feel up to talking to them just yet, for fear of having to acknowledge how easily he acknowledging he had been taken out of commission, compared to Triton. They were on better footing nowadays, but he knew the other guy would judge him still.
So, instead, he found himself at the forges with Tyson.
His little brother had finished up the order for the new design of shields for the armada heading out to some unknown corner of the ocean, and now Percy found him working on a scepter made of a gorgeous type of tinted celestial bronze, sparkling with finely cut blue gems. Or at least that was what Percy gathered from looking at the rough sketches, and the materials surrounding them.
“For Triton,” Tyson explained as the heated magma of the forges licked at his arms.
“Oh, man, he’d love that,” Percy said immediately, because Triton had a fondness for large pointy metal sticks, even though he insisted the war horn conch shell was his prized possession. The guy also loved pretty much everything his family did for him, so he’d be sure to adore this, too.
“It turns into a spear!” He explained, and now that Percy looked at the sketches again, he could see the moving parts depicted that would create the transformation.
Wait, why was Tyson randomly working on a gift for Triton? Had something happened?
Upon being asked, Tyson simply shook his head, “It’s going to be a special day for him soon. Anniversary for when he won a fight against Charybdis. I wanted to congratulate him for that.”
Charybdis? Percy thought back to the terrifying creature he had faced from afar when traversing the Sea of Monsters. Triton fought that thing and came out the victor?
Maybe Percy had grown a lot stronger in the years since that encounter, so his reference for how impressive that was was broken. Not to factor in that Triton was a god. Epic feats of strength beyond mortal comprehension were sort of par for the course. But still…
“That’s pretty cool of him,” he said slowly, because it was, and Triton deserved to be recognized for it, “Hey, do you think I should do something for him? What does he like?”
Tyson shrugged, eyeing him up carefully, “It’s better here when you build things, but you aren’t very good at that,” he said honestly, “But if you go out of your way to be nice to him at all, he’d like that. Tri’s nice like that.”
Yeah, Percy had realized that. Compared to all the other godly family units, the Poseidon royal family was a completely cohesive group, yet still starved of affection.
…Would offering to spar with him come off as a genuine bonding experience, or make it seem like Percy was just using any excuse to beat Triton up, even on a special day?
“Are you okay?” Tyson asked out of nowhere, while Percy was still mulling this over.
Percy, who had zoned out while leaning perhaps a little too confidently against one of the countertops nearly upended it in his surprise. Which wasn’t his fault, because who put a full marble slab on a hollow cylinder to hold it up?
“Of course I am!” He insisted, righting the marble slab before it could hit the ground, “Do I not look okay?” The question was serious; he had slept the illness off and was feeling much better now.
Tyson didn’t respond entirely, squinting at him just enough to make Percy squirm with guilt, until the cyclops admitted, “Just a feeling.”
“Well, you don’t gotta worry about me.” Percy assured him, patting his shoulder.
The last thing he wanted to do was ruin his last stress-free summer with his brother.
“Let me help you with the scepter, just a little bit.” He haggled, “Then we can tell Triton it was a joint effort.” Tyson considered this for a moment, and nodded, pointing him in the direction of the gems, to sort them by size and quality.
Percy had no idea how to judge a gem’s quality – they were supposed to be strong, right? Should he try hitting them and keep them if they don’t break? – and before he had to try faking it, he was thankfully saved by the sound of Triton’s distinctive twin tails as they cut through the water.
Tyson looked up fearfully, clearly meaning for the scepter to be a surprise, so Percy flicked his fingers, flipping the countertop over, and gently rolling the scepter and all its parts into the hollow cylinder stand below. Which wasn’t as stupid as he thought.
“Ty, you’re free?” Triton said, coming into view at just the right time, his face lighting up when he saw that Tyson wasn’t working on anything. His eyes turned to look at Percy, and surprisingly didn’t lose their shine, “Ah, Percy, you’re here, too.”
“Disappointed?” Percy couldn’t help the barb that slipped through his lips.
Triton shook his head, and for once it read as genuine, “Not at all. I’m glad you’re better now.”
“Better than what?” Tyson asked.
“Since yesterday!” Percy was quick to interrupt before Triton let out any details on the illness that hadn’t exactly healed as much as he thought it had, “Yeah, I’ve just been improving constantly. In every possible way. Constantly waking up better than I was the day before.”
Triton’s eyes were gleaming, but it wasn’t with the same venom of when they used to spar before. Percy might be stretching, but he read it as warm amusement, shadowed by some dour emotion. Sympathy? Eugh. Looks like Percy hadn’t managed to deceive him.
“Humans are known for their adaptability.” Triton allowed, and Percy would really like it if this guy stopped boiling him down to being a human at every turn. (Granted, Tri had had the same problem with Percy constantly judging him as a god, so maybe he should work on building a mutual understanding there.)
“I heard news from the front where we sent your shields,” Triton told Tyson brightly, “The results have been fantastic. Everyone is very impressed with your handiwork. I wanted to pass on their compliments, since I know you worked hard on them.”
“Thanks. I’m glad it helped them,” Tyson smiled, looking at Percy from the corner of his eye, glancing pointedly at the door. Right. Scepter, surprise. Percy had to run interference.
“Hey, man, did I miss breakfast?” He said abruptly, once there was a break in the conversation for longer than a few seconds.
Triton glanced at him, and if he was offended by Percy interrupting their conversation, he didn’t say anything, simply opting for the polite, “Yes, but the kitchens don’t mind if you grab a snack from there to tide you over before midday. Having an appetite is a good thing.” If you’re recovering from sickness. Percy could hear the unspoken words hanging between them. He wasn’t trying at all to hide the truth of Percy’s sickness from Tyson.
“Right.” Percy said through gritted teeth, “You know, funnily, I don’t remember you ever showing me where the kitchens are.” Lies. He specifically remembered Triton showing off the kitchens with an air of superiority, claiming that they’d never get food as good as this on the surface.
Triton looked at him strangely, clearly remembering the tour, too, and agreed readily.
“Are you feeling okay?” He burst out, the second they were out of the forges, leaning into Percy’s space to a press a scaly hand against his forehead, “I think you’re running a fever that has damaged your memories. You’re certainly burning hot enough for it to happen-”
“Personal space, dude.” Percy shoved him away, feeling his head throb harder, “And of course I’m fine. The water stagnating around is probably making you think I’m warmer than I actually am. My memories aren’t impaired; I was lying.”
“What stagnant water? We circulate currents in the palace very thoroughly.” Triton corrected reflexively, before Percy’s other words hit him, and he glared, “You were what? If you want to consider us siblings in anyway, you can’t lie to us. It’s wrong.”
It was an odd belief to have – seriously, get this guy any Greek myth book and show him all the constant lies that were exchanged there – but Percy couldn’t find the strength to challenge it. The brief moment of excitement he’d gone through with Tyson had passed, leaving him sapped him of all his strength. Like some kind of Victorian child.
He’d thought eating food might settle the cramps in his stomach a little. Make his mind stop feeling like it was floating a few inches out of his body. But once he had a few bites of a seaweed thing that tasted impeccably like cheese and looked nothing like it at all, he felt no better. And a little nauseous. Triton looking at him intensely wasn’t helping his nerves either.
“What do you want?” Percy finally asked once the silence got to him too much, and it was with great pride that he didn’t slur his words at all.
Triton fidgeted in front of him, “You’re acting quite unlike you.” He said, voice carefully guarded, “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Oh, sure.” Percy grinned, leaning back to give Triton a sharp grin, “Isn’t this the healthiest mortal you’ve ever seen?”
“I haven’t seen many mortals.” Triton replied blankly, “But you are acting strange, and I’m assuming that you’re sick?”
Dammit. Was it that obvious? But Amphitrite had even less experience with people prone to illness than Triton or even his dad did, so Percy could use this. It wasn’t a complete lost cause, as long as he salvaged this quickly, and his relationship with Triton had gotten to the point where he would keep Percy’s secrets from Poseidon.
…Yeah, Tri was an okay guy. But Percy wasn’t sure they were there yet. Still, no harm in asking, at least, so he went for it, “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Why not?” Triton asked, brows furrowing, “You’re a son of Poseidon, nothing in the ocean should be able to hurt you, except for-” He cut himself short, the realization dawning on him just then.
Percy nodded miserably, “Picked it up in the bad part of the ocean. So you can’t tell Dad, or he’ll never let me come down here again. What kind of son of Poseidon am I going to be if he thinks I’m not ready for the ocean?”
Triton looked like he was about to argue, but then he thought on it and sighed, “I see your point. I don’t think it’s wise, but I will help cover this up. Gossip spreads fast, though. And your illness is clear from anyone who looks at you. You should start with that.”
Right. Percy put on a pained grin, and headed back to his room, where there was a freshwater spring set up for him. One quick splash of water, some careful application of concealer, and when he looked at the bronze mirror set into the wall, he could almost see someone passably living.
A few drops of nectar infused with sea spirits (to counteract the malicious spirits he had no doubt picked up), and Percy felt much better. It likely wouldn't stick - he'd had plenty when he had returned from the bad part of the ocean, after all, but it would tide him over for a little while, at least. Carry him through the few days before his body fought this off on its own.
He was starting to feel confident in this plan when he stepped back out.
Triton was starting to believe that he had made a mistake by covering up Percy’s illness.
It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at first. Humans were resilient enough in the stories, and the addition of god blood would only heighten that.
But over the course of the day, Percy had gone from fever-bright eyes and slight wooziness in his movements to an ashy-white complexion and several dangerous slips in his water manipulation.
That was just the first day. The decline was more pronounced on the second, and then the third. Except for a few improvements here and there from sparse amounts of nectar – which he lowered consumption of until he stopped taking entirely by the third afternoon, likely to avoid being burnt to a crisp for overconsumption – he was showing no signs of recovery. Yet he had also not sought out help on his own terms.
He pretended everything was alright, trying to keep up the same workout routines as always, but it was apparent that he was flagging. He retired for bed much earlier, and emerged much later than he usually could stand to do, and yet still that didn’t help the tired daze he was always in.
Something had to be done.
He’d already promised to not tell anyone, and keeping promises was what had held the oceanic gods together when all others were in crisis, so breaking it would be seen as dishonorable by everyone, even if Triton was doing it for Percy’s own good.
Amphitrite he knew was very nervous about this trip. She had a soft spot for demigods, even though none had been in the palace for centuries. Surely, if he maneuvered a meeting between the two, then she would realize something was wrong with Percy and get him the help he needed.
Which was why he put the idea in Percy’s head, “If you miss more dinners, Mother will realize something’s up.”
Percy jolted, “You think so? I’ll make sure to come to this one.” He couldn’t quite cover up the yawn that followed his words.
“That might be wise.” Triton agreed, even though it was a general trait amongst gods that they didn’t notice the minutiae of what happened in each day. Still, he visited her in the throne room that day, with a cheery wave and the news of Percy’s promise, so that she would take extra note of who would be present at the table that day.
When Percy woke up from the unwilling nap his body had forced onto him midmorning, he found the illness was still licking the edges of his mind, he could feel it pressing on the inside of his skull.
He yawned as he stood up, feeling out the area around him now that he was utterly shrouded in light. His legs didn’t buckle, but he felt strangely light, like how people described it feeling after coming out of a pool for a long time. He’d never had issue adjusting to the different densities of air and water, but there was a first time for everything.
Carefully, he managed one step. And then another. Groping through the darkness with outstretched arms until he slammed into the nearest wall to activate the bio-luminescent algae lanterns. The lights blinked on, which was his goal, but still left stars in his eyes that took a few seconds to fade out.
Thankfully, it would have taken longer for him to brush off the last time he was awake, so it had to mean he was getting better, right?
Sickness wasn’t a thing that he experienced much, even above the ocean. But the vague understanding he had of colds and the like was that they had to get worse before they got better. Maybe he was over the peak of the worst, and it was going to be easy going from here. He could only hope.
He managed to take a bath – a very complicated endeavor, in a floating bubble of water he had to manipulate by himself – and left it feeling gratefully human again, free of the layer of sweat that had become caked into his skin.
His movements still felt slow as he pulled on new clothes and went outside, looking around him as all the palace citizens as they continued with their duties, barely giving him a second look. It could have been weeks since he passed out after that dinner with Amphitrite, and everything would be continuing on the same pattern as always.
…Centuries from now, when Percy would be long-dead, would the same guard patrol routes be used? Would Kym’s visits have the same schedules? Would Percy even be missed?
He forced his mind off those kinds of thoughts and instead headed towards the dining hall.
The dinner in question wasn't really a tense affair. Amphitrite didn't seem at all affected by him snubbing her for the past few days. Well, nothing more than a polite, “I see you have thought to join us this time."
"Sorry about that." Percy coughed, partly to displace some of his built up awkwardness and partly to displace the itch that had been working up his throat, "Had a sword duel that left me totally beat."
Whether she bought it or not was unclear, as she simply flicked her hands to have a tureen of stewed clams drift over to him, "Well you completely missed the recent developments on the stormfront down by the Great Barrier Reef. We are having to reverse our current battle strategy fully."
"Oh?" He ladled out a blob of dense liquid onto his plate, "Thought you had an iron defense there."
"We did!" She replied, "The other guys tried a very risky gamble, and managed to regain the upper hand, by bypassing the water currents and messing with the temperature directly. It paid off."
"Luckily." Triton puffed up a little as he swallowed too quickly to add in the next bit, "I had foreseen this exact ploy being used, if you remember, mother. So, our counter to that is already being spread to our troops."
"That's pretty cool of you, Tri." Percy nodded, using a fishbone to pick some seaweed out of his teeth.
It was when he finally dislodged it that the effects of the nectar began to wear off.
"The staff has made a very interesting type of flan, from what I was told." Amphitrite told him excitedly, pivoting from matters of warfare to domesticity with the ease of someone who had spent generations perfecting the skill, “Something to do with jellyfish? Poseidon always loves that sort of thing, so I’ll be saving some extra for him.”
“Sounds good.” He agreed, though he didn’t feel up for eating much right now, “Dad’s not in the palace right now?”
“Left to deal with an elephant seal uprising this morning.” Triton said, “Don’t see why he had to bother with it himself, but he’s sure to come back tonight.”
“Because elephant seals aren’t very strong, and this is more of a day vacation for him?” Percy guessed.
“That too,” Triton agreed, “But we were supposed to spar tonight, after dinner. So he’s going to be here.” He said it with easy confidence, as if there was no way Poseidon would ever renege on the agreement. Percy felt jealous of that implicit trust, probably built up over centuries with their father that Percy was never going to have.
“By ‘we’, I mean his kids.” Triton elaborated, noting Percy’s slightly dour mood, “Tyson generally participates, but he’s staying out this time” – because he was making that scepter gift for Triton – “you’re welcome to join, though. Or just watch from the sidelines, if that’s better.” As he talked, it was clear that he was only just remembering Percy’s illness.
Being looked down on caused him to reel back indignantly, “I think I’ll spar, too. Got a problem with that?”
Triton fumbled for a moment, and then muttered, “No.”
Good. Percy had to keep a tight grip on his utensils, even as his hands shook with tremors he had no reason to be having. Who was he kidding? There was no way he could spar like this. He was just going to embarrass himself in front of their dad.
When Poseidon returned, he found his eldest son anxiously pacing around the front hall, tails out of sync in their agitation.
“Looking forward to our spar together?” Poseidon asked cheerfully as he held up a trident – not his war one, but still a rather magnificent piece.
He knew his kids didn’t get the same quality time with him they deserved these past few decades, due to the war effort. But the fights that constantly brewed throughout the oceans had proven themselves to be unending, and he was done waiting for a peace that would never come to spend time with them. The spars every few months with Triton were an example of such times, and now that he had gotten warmed up by throwing a few elephant seals around, he was really looking forward to seeing his improvement.
Yet, Triton shook his head, the words coming out slow and stilted, “No- I mean, yes! I value our time together. But I am… concerned. For Perseus’ wellbeing.”
And suddenly the calm he had been building up for so long evaporated.
“What happened to Percy?” He asked, voice dangerously low.
Triton shrugged, looking guiltily to the side, “I shouldn’t say-”
“Triton,” he tried to keep his calm, but the seas were roiling in response to his true feelings, “What have you done?”
After the debacle of Percy ending up in the bad part of the ocean, he deserved to be a bit leery of how Triton treated his little demigod brother. But thankfully, when Triton flinched, it was not a faked emotion.
“I didn’t do anything, Father!” Triton replied back, looking hurt at the accusation, before confliction flashed across his face. Clearly whatever had happened wasn’t entirely out of his control.
Poseidon didn’t sigh, but it was a near thing, “Take me to him.”
Finding Percy wasn’t difficult, at least, because he was in the courtyard where they always trained together. Except the boy looked woefully unprepared for even a friendly fight, as he struggled to stay upright even with his sheathed sword providing him with support.
Poseidon’s heart panged as he realized how bad it had gotten, sweat and general illness almost a visible layer around him. It didn’t take much to realize what had happened, and why Triton was conflicted about simply coming out and telling the truth to him. Still, Percy couldn’t be allowed to spend more time in this state.
“Percy,” he said slowly, moving towards him and breaking him out of his momentary trance, “You should be in bed right now. You look very ill.”
Percy shook his head, and his words were slow, as he had to carefully enunciate everything when he insisted, “See, but I only look like that. And appearances are deceiving. I’ll prove it, and win a fight against you, even!”
He raised his sword, no doubt to fulfill that threat, but Poseidon just had to raise a hand, and the waters around the sword pulled it free from Percy’s pitiful grasp, though not without some light struggle from his end. Which must have felt like immense effort on his side, because once the sword was gone, Percy stumbled back, looking green.
Poseidon moved to support him before he could fall over, wincing a little at how warm the boy was, “Come on, let’s get you to your room.” He promised, as Percy relaxed into the hold. How had he not noticed what his boy was going through?
“Triton,” he called as he was swimming towards Percy’s quarters, and he heard Triton – previously hovering further away – paddle closer as Poseidon delivered further instructions, “Come by once he gets the right rest. We all need to have a talk.”
Triton made a quiet sound of acknowledgement, almost lost to the seas as Poseidon swept his demigod son away.
Almost as soon as Percy got into his room, Percy made a dash for the bathroom, and threw up.
Coughing sharply into the toilet, only distantly aware of the hand patting his back.
His sense of balance was beginning to falter when he stood up, the edges of his vision fuzzing out with every step he took. Which was fine, because he didn’t want to be walking around much right now anyway. For some reason, his dad didn’t seem to mind lending him a hand to keep him upright, but Percy’s pride didn’t allow for him to carry him like before.
The trek out of the bathroom and to his bed was bad enough, and the strength completely sapped from his body as he fell forward, facedown into the pillows, thoughts blurred into incessant static before falling into unconsciousness.
Seconds later – or maybe hours – his mind clawed itself back into consciousness, and Percy regretted it immediately. His mouth was dry and sour, skin uncomfortably tacky and warm, but the air around him was annoyingly chilly. A steady tempo was beating its way into his head, and when he raised a hand up to try and soothe his headache, he found his muscles to be shaky and weak. They fell back to his side, leaving him to blink crusted eyelids in total darkness.
A hand gently pressed against his forehead, and a soft voice murmured, “Percy, are you awake?”
Percy mumbled incoherently, just wanting the blanket trapped underneath him to cover him instead. The voice kept talking regardless, “You’ve said some very worrying things in your sleep. I didn’t mean to listen in, but I was worried. And I don’t think they should go undiscussed. For now, let’s put that aside and allow you to heal up.”
There was a sound of a bottle being uncorked, and then cool glass was brought up to his mouth, dribbling some sort of oil into his mouth, which Percy swallowed through the barrage of sensations he was being subjected to.
He wasn’t sure if it was his own exhaustion, or whatever was in the substance he had just been fed, but he drifted off to sleep easily.
Only to wake up the next day, feeling marginally more alive. Or, once he stretched his limbs out curiously, noting the full awareness in his body, scratch that, alive full stop. His headache was completely gone, not even set off by the lights of his room coming on, the burning sensation around his eyes and limbs had died, too, and for once he felt like he could breathe properly.
He took a quick shower, changed his clothes, and came out feeling like the past few days were some sort of terrible nightmare. A fever-ridden one, even.
But when he swung open the door of his bedroom to go out and find Triton, or maybe his dad, and try to explain, he found someone’s fist hovering over the door, clearly about to knock.
Percy and Poseidon looked at each other for a second. Triton was hovering some distance back, stealing glances over Poseidon’s shoulder.
“Ah, so this is the talk?” Percy asked.
“Figured it was best to not waste time.” Poseidon agreed, “Can we come in?”
Percy moved to the side, letting them both enter.
For several moments, there was silence.
Then, Poseidon cleared his throat and looked at Percy, “While you were delirious with fever, you said something about not wanting me to know you’re sick because we would think you weak for it. Is this truly what you think?”
“I-” Percy floundered for words, “You guys are gods! Yeah, I’d think that.”
“Right.” Poseidon said slowly, nodding along, “Well, it’s not true. Your strength does not play a factor into your place in my family.” He turned to look at Triton, “Why do I get the feeling that you were involved with this mentality being formed?”
Triton recoiled, betrayal on his face. He didn’t say anything, until he venomously whispered, “What about Kym? Aren’t we meant to be held to a standard? To uphold our rule over the seas?” His voice was raw, and Percy realized he clearly had some sort of complex built up that he was merely projecting onto Percy before this.
And Percy had truly bought into it. Losing face in front of his dad and stepmother? Yeah, he had his pride and everything, but that seemed a bit too far, in hindsight. Too much time spent around Triton clearly.
If it was possible, Poseidon looked even more despondent as he shook his head, “Kym is kept away because she destroys whole towns and villages. You both have stronger morals than that. Strength doesn’t matter in our household, no matter what you contribute in our fights. You could do nothing at all, and I would still love you as my sons.”
Triton let out a sniffle, the strong front crumbling.
Poseidon took a deep breath, “We need to do more work.” He decided, “Because clearly all of us have made assumptions and messed up.”
“You think there are any Greek gods of family counsellors?” Percy joked.
“There should be a god of family counsellors somewhere. And we’ll be giving them much needed business.” Poseidon assured, eyes glinting with humor.