Chapter Text
Percy Jackson’s POV
Okay, it might be a bit too early to say this but I can admit it, maybe therapy isn’t that bad of an idea. But don’t tell anyone I said that, especially Mr. D and Pollux who were currently holding me hostage away from the rest of the camp despite the fact that my daily therapy session ended almost three hours ago.
In spite of the fact that it’s only been a week since I was forced into this routine, to my surprise, it seemed to be actually working on me.
I’ve been a lot happier these days, I think, which I know is especially pleasing to Annabeth and Chiron.
Even Clarisse seems to be somewhat happy for me, especially since now she can plummet me without feeling bad about it. In her words, “what’s the fun in beating you down when your life’s already doing it for me?”.
Immediately after she said that, I washed her out into the river for the fishes to pick at her and her stupid spear. Because what’s the fun in beating her down when the fishes do it for me, right?
Turns out, when you don’t make kids believe that they’re the problem and that they’re “inconveniencing” you with their make-believe fantastical problems, you actually get positive results.
If only Zeus made Mr. D go around teaching therapists and counselors how to actually do their job instead of forcing him to be a camp director, perhaps things would have been better overall.
At the current moment, the three of us were kind of just doing our own thing. Pollux had moved one of the bean bags so that he’d be sitting right behind my place from the couch, an obnoxiously purple quilt blanket spilling over his lap as he scribbled his pencil onto his notebook.
He was writing down some kind of script for a play I knew he had been working on with cabin seven to perform with at the amphitheater, but he said it would be “spoilers” if he told me exactly what it was about so I stopped asking about it.
Clearly, though, his choice of seating indicated that he didn’t fully trust me to not suddenly grab his papers to get a peak at it, which in all fairness, I have tried before with varying degrees of success.
Mr. D could be heard incoherently grumbling from behind his desk as he scowled at the small stack of papers that sat in front of him as if he thought that if he stared hard enough it would burn his troubles away. I’m pretty sure those papers were incident reports, specifically about the fight that happened yesterday at our last ‘capture the flag’ game.
Apparently, the Ares kids had picked on the wrong Apollo kid and subsequently got their asses handed to them by the end of a nock, not even the actual arrowhead which was honestly even more embarrassing.
I can’t even imagine being an Ares kid and having to explain to the literal god of war how I got my ass beat with the stick end of a lone arrow, and not even from the strongest kid in the camp at that.
Regardless of how funny it was at the time to everyone it clearly wasn’t as fun to write down the incident reports itself for the event, not to mention the headache Mr. D’s probably going to receive from my divine cousin once they’ve actually been collected by Olympus.
As much as I love this camp, you couldn’t pay me to be a camp director here, that’s how you end up with gray hairs in your twenties and after Atlas I was quite certain I didn’t need more of them.
While those two were focusing on themselves, I was focusing on this book I found about marine life. I don’t know who wrote this since the author isn’t actually mentioned in or on the book but whoever they were they clearly knew their stuff despite the book looking ancient.
I mean, seriously, the book looks like it had taken at least fifteen miracles to keep the pages together and even then the book's hanging by a thread.
Not to mention the book’s in ancient greek, so how the author knew stuff that scientists only recently discovered just three decades prior is beyond me. Maybe the book was written by a naiad or a minor sea deity since that’s kind of the only other way anyone would know half this stuff.
Unless, of course, my dad decided to try and best Athena in her own domain since they’ve been locked into some weird rivalry for the past millennium, the knowledge courtesy of Annabeth when I first came to camp.
Speaking of my dad, I looked up from my book to the intense smell of sea salt wafting through the air from the cracked open door of the office.
I knew it had to have been coming from there since the office’s windows were closed at the moment due to the hinges needing to be repaired.
Now, while I would say it might be related to a prank Travis pulled in revenge for Mr. D giving him extra chores three days ago, I chose not to.
Hey, I might be many things but a snitch wasn’t one of them.
For a moment, I thought I had imagined it until I saw Mr. D and Pollux remove their gazes from their work to stare at the door with revolted, scrunched up faces.
There was an awful lot of silence between the three of us as we honed our ears in on the rest of the camp, our ears picking up on the sound of Chrion’s hooves clomping their way through the big house’s common room before the main door could be heard opening.
“My lord,” Chiron said in shock, “Well this is certainly a surprise. To what do we owe pleasure?”
“Where is my son?,” I could hear my dad, Poseidon, questioning in a way that sounded like he was angry at something. At what, I wasn’t sure, but hopefully it wasn’t me.
I know I’ve made pissing the gods off into an occupation at this point but there were always a few select gods that you really didn’t want getting angry at you and my dad was definitely one of them.
Trust me when I say this, no one wants to slight the god of the literal sea and wake up the next day as a wandering ghost because your body exploded under the pressure of being a million feet under water.
“Now, what is the meaning of this? The boy is safe, I can assure you of that, My lord,” Chiron stated, trying to placate the increasingly angry olympian who’s sea salt smell had intensified into something almost unbearable had I not been his kid, though that same luck evidently hadn’t transferred to the other two since they looked like they were about to choke on the smell had Mr. D not filled the room with his own scent of grape vines and fertilizer.
Weirdly enough, after a session I had with him where I talked about my home life before coming to camp I hadn’t smelled wine on him since.
But that’s a thought to dwell on for another day since at the moment it sounded more and more like Chiron was about to become canned horse meat if he didn’t give my dad the answer he wanted.
“Do not play coy with me, centaur,” dad said with so much disdain and hatred that I started feeling seriously bad for Chiron, “Zeus told me everything, with my nephew, Apollo, confirming the events. If you’d like to spare yourself of the same fate that befell Hephaestus, I’d suggest you stand to the side and let me see my son. I know he’s here.”
Mr. D had long since gotten up, gathering both Pollux and I into his arms as the three of us gathered onto the couch, the sound of Chiron quickly pacing after my dad as he furiously stomped his way towards us echoing through the hall.
In just a few short seconds, the door had suddenly slammed open, the strength my dad put into opening the door having almost shattered the wood as he stood in all his godly glory.
Dad had chosen to abandon the “chill fisherman” vibe I knew him by as I saw his form shift into a fancy, floor-length, navy blue chiton, a crown of bright coral reefs and cluster pearls adorning his head as golden engraved cuffs surrounded his wrists.
His hair looked completely soaked, losing its curls in the process as it grew to his back, stray strands covering his face as he laid eyes on Mr. D. His gaze hardened at the sight of the god whilst Mr. D worked on further shielding the two of us from his anger, his body just barely covering me with the help of Pollux.
The excruciatingly intense staring contest probably could have gone on for longer had I not emerged from behind Pollux from our place in Mr. D’s arms.
The moment dad laid eyes on me his eyes had softened incredibly, the sea salt smell suddenly dying down as I felt Mr. D’s arms tighten around us. Then, in an instant, the room had fallen eerily cold.
It looked as if something akin to realization had slapped my dad across the face as he looked at me in Mr. D’s arms, his eyes brewing with resentment as he pursed his lips.
“Well,” Mr. D drawled, “Isn’t it always a pleasure seeing you, uncle,” he said despite the fact that clearly he hadn’t thought it was a pleasure at all given his annoyed tone.
My father kept his head high, scoffing as Mr. D continued. “So, what’s got your chiton in a twist this time?,” Mr. D asked snarkily as Pollux and I shared a look that asked incredulously, ‘seriously, is this how we die?’.
My dad, thankfully, only rolled his eyes as his arms crossed across his chest. “I want to speak to my son,” he said as his eyes narrowed, eyeing Pollux and Mr. D harshly, “alone.”
Mr. D glared at dad but said nothing, grip loosening on the both of us as he wordlessly nudged Pollux out. Before Pollux got up and left he shot us one more worried glance, walking backwards outside of the door as he eyed my dad in contempt before finally turning around and walking down the hall with Chiron on his heel.
It wasn’t until we heard the front door shut with a ‘click’ did my dad start speaking again, this time with more condescension. “I said—”
“I know what you said, gods, you don’t have to repeat it,” Mr. D exclaimed exasperatedly. “Then why aren’t you leaving,” my dad asked gravelly, the tension in the air growing thick with animosity.
Mr. D patted my back firmly with one hand while keeping one of my own hand’s in his, “Well, we were just in the middle of one of your son’s counseling sessions. You can’t seriously expect me to leave the boy after he had just spilled his heart out to me, can you?,” he said whilst facing me, his curls obscuring the wink he gave me that signaled that I needed to play along with the lie.
I quickly turned back to my father and nodded, laying my head on Mr. D’s shoulder to signify that I really didn’t want him to leave.
Listen, I’m generally okay standing in a room with him on the scarce days where he’s actually present in my life, but usually whenever we are alone the conversations never really tend to go well for me.
The first time I was left alone with my dad, he basically said sorry for the mere fact I even existed. That’s certainly one way of making an impression I suppose, as if that entire quest hadn’t already proved how shitty it was to be a demigod.
If I could roll my eyes at the memory, I would, but right now I was trying to figure out two things; One, what could my dad possibly want with me and two, what the fuck was going on between Mr. D and my dad.
With the way these two were acting towards each other, you could have fooled me into thinking there was some ancient myth I had skipped over during myth remedial classes that could provide context clues on what their deal was.
Dad’s eyes widened in shock at my sudden display of affection, glowering at Mr. D before gruffly moving towards the couch, sitting regally at one end as Mr. D and I huddled together on the other.
His eyes never left Mr. D as he sat, almost as if he was debating whether to smote the man where he sat.
Then he turned all his attention towards me and gave me what could have been one of the most sickeningly sweetest looks I’ve ever received from someone, a tie between how my mom and Mr. D looked at me when they thought I wasn’t looking.
It was almost as if I was the only thing that mattered to him at that moment, had ever mattered to him, like I was the best thing to ever grace upon Gaia.
If I looked closely into his eyes, there was something lying there just barely dormant. It was calculating and fierce, but I couldn’t put a name to it. Not wanting to open that can of worms, I chose to write it off as a weird god thing before fixing my gaze at one of his hands.
He had placed one hand on the couch, patting at it as a way to get me to move from my spot in Mr. D’s arms and join his side instead. I looked towards Mr. D for help, unsure what I should do.
He had the word ‘peeved’ written all over his face, very evidently unhappy about the situation but had chosen to gently push me towards him with, to his credit, an attempt to look encouraging towards me regardless.
As I hesitantly scooched closer towards my dad, I felt myself being pulled into his lap the second I was within arms length.
Seriously, what is up with them and putting me in their lap? Someone needs to tell these guys I’m not seven anymore, but for some reason I had a strange feeling that it really didn’t matter to them regardless of that fact.
Right now, there weren’t many things to shift my focus from my internal embarrassment. On one hand I could feel Mr. D’s glare striking my back and on the other hand I could see up close my dad’s indescribable gaze, looking as if he was holding a newborn baby for the first time.
Ugh, I’m starting to wish I was twelve again, back when my dad ignored me and I never knew about this stupid camp. I’d take Nancy over this any day.
“Percy,” I heard my dad speak, pulling me out of my irritated thoughts, “I heard about your quest with Athena’s daughter.” I looked at him blankly as I stayed quiet, trying to figure out what he was getting at until it suddenly clicked in my head.
Of fucking course it’s about that damned island, again. Really, how many talks about this place was I going to get until we all collectively decided to drop it? Suppressing a groan, I looked towards my father.
He had this seriously dark look on his face, grim at the thought of my quest as have others who’ve known of it.
I get it, truly, that the situation was really fucking bad, but it couldn’t have been so bad it brought the damn olympians together. You know, the most fragmented group of people I’ve ever seen in my life right next to American politicians.
I just couldn’t get what everyone else was seeing no matter how hard I tried and it made me feel like I was a fresh face at camp all over again, an outcast with no idea what was happening around me. I think I spoke too soon about the therapy’s effects on me because clearly It hadn’t worked well enough.
“Percy,” dad said softly, “I won’t make you recount the events,” he said as I breathed out a sigh of relief.
“But—”
‘Fuck,’ I thought to myself.
“I came here to ask you something, something that’s been bothering me since the moment I heard about this incident,” my dad finished, his eyes examining me with a mix of distress and protectiveness.
“Oh, well, um, what—what did you want to ask me?,” I said nervously, trying to lessen his grip on me as he effortlessly kept me in place. From behind I could feel Mr. D’s eagerness to take me away from my father, the smell of vines just itching to grab me as we both waited for my father to ask his question.
At the moment, my father seemed to be pondering how to approach me, like I’d shatter if he said the wrong thing.
At this thought, I felt myself getting impatient and maybe a little offended.
I’ve been through the minotaur, furies, titans, and whatever else was noteworthy enough to get written into the history books. Whatever my dad was going to say, I knew I could take it, so I wished he’d stop looking at me like I'm just this helpless kid and get on with it already—
“Why didn’t you pray to me?,” I heard my dad’s voice cut through my irritation.
“...What?,” I asked in shock, eyes wide as I looked into my dad’s face that reeked with sadness.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me? Why, Perseus, did I have to find out through my brother of all people about what happened? Why didn’t you trust me enough to bring forth this information? Did you truly believe in your heart that I would not have fought for you, my child? Did you believe yourself so unworthy of my time that I would not retrieve you from that island?,” he spilled out, questions pouring by the second as his hold on me strengthened, bringing my face to his chest.
I was at a loss for words, sputtering while trying to find the answer to his numerous questions.
In truth, I really hadn’t thought about my dad at all during my time there. Ever since the quest for the fleece, it never really occurred to me that he would hear my prayers, much less rescue me from Ogygia. It sort of wounded me to hear my dad’s desperate questioning.
After a while, I stopped trying to answer the questions, realizing that I didn’t really have a good enough answer to soothe him and his heartache. Instead, I took a deep breath before putting my arms around him, hiding my face from him as I pressed myself fully into his chest.
The only thing I could say to him were two words, “I–,” I bit my lip to prevent my voice from cracking, “I’m sorry.”
Whatever tension had been in the air prior had dissolved as the room fell still, my dad hugging me back fiercely as a single thin grape vine snaked its way to my hand in secret, as if Mr. D was trying to hold my hand in comfort from his place on the couch.
“No, I’m the one who's sorry, my pearl,” dad said, pulling away from me just enough to place a soft hand on my cheek as I buried my face into his palm.
A single tear had rolled down my face as he rubbed it away with his thumb, leaning down to place a kiss to the crown of my head.
“It’s evident that I hadn’t made myself and my intentions clear to you over the years,” dad began, “I will always be with you, child. Should anyone tear you away from me, I would recede the waters from the land and let the world fall into a deserted state. If you had asked me, I would bring cities down to the underworld at your request,” he sighed out, resting his forehead on top of mine, “Never let yourself believe you are not mine, nor that my time is not yours to hold, my sea star.”
I nodded in agreement, a small part of me wanting to doubt his words but my gut told me otherwise. Just then I heard Pollux’s voice from the common room.
“Percy, Dad, it’s almost time for dinner!,” Pollux shouted before leaving again, the door clicking behind him as I turned from my dad to Mr. D.
“Well won’t you look at the time,” Mr. D suddenly spoke, “It seems as though it’s time for us to return to the rest of the camp, uncle,” Mr. D said with narrowed eyes, placing a hand on my shoulder as the grape vine intertwined with my hand retreated.
My dad looked back at him with hostility, irritated at the idea of having to leave me but knowing it was fruitless to hold me back from camp, he had finally let me go.
Before placing me back on the couch he leaned over to place a gentle kiss on my forehead, “Do not ever forget what i’ve said to you today,” he reminded me. “Now, run along, Percy. I have much more to discuss with Dionysus,” he said gently, gesturing towards the door.
Before I got up, I looked towards Mr. D for approval as he nodded in agreement with my dad, also gesturing towards the door. I quickly left the office in silence, leaving the big house in search of Pollux and my other friends.
Dionysus’s POV
After being forced to bear witness to my uncle finally communicating to his own son after what could have very well been years since even speaking to him, my other son, Pollux, had unknowingly barged into the rescue with an announcement of dinner.
Thank khaos for him because if I had to sit through anymore public displays of affection towards my kid I would have ripped him away from the boy regardless of if he’s his “actual” father.
In my stew, I had almost missed it when Poseidon mentioned wanting to speak to me personally.
I knew that this little “talk” wasn’t going to go down well in the slightest so I rushed to agree with him, ushering Peter out of the room in a haste for him to escape the conflict that would soon fall upon me and his father.
After we both waited for the eager boy to leave the building entirely, Poseidon had almost jumped at the chance to fight me right there and then.
“You insolent bastard,” Poseidon said with gritted teeth, “You forget your place and have overstepped onto what is mine. Leave my son alone, lest I remind you of your time in pieces,” he finished with a threat onto my immortal life.
He talked as if I wasn’t the one consistently helping “his” son overcome his time on that dastardly island and more. The absolute nerve he had to speak to me as if he hadn't been absent from most of the boy's life. How dare he.
“It seems as though you, uncle, have forgotten why gods such as yourself keep themselves and their children at arm’s length,” I rebutted with a raised voice, “How can you keep your promises whilst keeping your kid safe? We both know that the more you spend time with him, the stronger his scent becomes with monsters. Not to mention his poor mother, who cannot defend herself from such threats. What will you do without breaking the ancient laws, hm?”
Poseidon was seething, but it failed to deter me from what I was about to say next.
“This isn’t even mentioning all the mental health issues Perseus has. Aside from Apollo, who we both know better than anyone else how busy he can be despite his care for children, who else better to provide counseling than the god of madness, forced to oversee this camp for the next hundred years? You surely would not try to rid your kid of his only real support system in the godly realm, would you?,” I rhetorically asked, already knowing the answer to my question.
I watched in amusement as I saw my uncle restraining himself from trying to smite me, knowing that I was right despite his attempts to dispute it.
Before he could answer, we both heard the front door opening, Perry calling out to me.
“Mr. D, are you coming or not? Connor and Travis are planning on pranking some Aphrodite kids and Pollux is recording,” we heard Parker yell from the common room. “In a moment,” I yelled back, eyeing the way Poseidon scowled at me.
As I strutted towards the door in triumph with a smirk on my face I sensed an item being thrown at me at full force, dodging just in time to see a trident lodged into the wall.
“You may have won for the moment, Dionysus, but you will not have him for long. I will come back to take what’s rightfully mine,” Poseidon said gravely, disappearing into a golden mist before I could speak.
“Crazy bastard,” I muttered while leaving my office, walking towards the common room to see Pedro waiting for me.
“C’mon we have to hurry or else we’ll miss the show,” Pierre exclaimed in childish excitement as he pulled me towards the door by my wrist.
I shook my head in exasperated fondness, walking out to see the pavilion filled with the campers I worked hard to keep alive over the years.
Perhaps these next hundred years won’t be so bad if it meant spending it with these kids.