Chapter Text
Every breath felt like broken glass stabbing his chest from the inside. Blood dripped from a broken nose, and all he wanted to do was scream until his voice gave out and he couldn’t breathe. None of this was fucking fair and his mother didn’t deserve this either but he couldn’t tell her about this, Gabe would actually kill him, he was lucky he had managed to get to the beach. He didn’t know where Gabe was and that terrified him too.
He stumbled onto the beach, heaving for air like a dying man. He needed to get away, to hide somewhere safe before—
He ran into a strong chest and flinched back, sea-green eyes blown wide in terror. Even when he saw who it was, he couldn’t help the way his body shook. “Dad?”
Poseidon had not planned on an excursion today. He had plenty of paperwork and advisors nipping at his heels to pay attention to the rebuilding of Atlantis. When he had been split between Neptune and this self (his preferred self), old ocean spirits and monsters had taken the chance to attack the capital of his domain, and while his armies managed to drive them all back, damage had been done (on top of the damage from the Second Titan War).
Then he felt it. The pure, raw terror that ate away at his very presence. Triton was at his side, and his other children were safe in their own palaces. There was only one of his children unaccounted for, and the ground had shook when Poseidon realized that. Then it grew worse — pain crept into the connection, throbbing, bruising pain that didn’t ease up. It was different, too. Strange. It didn’t feel like it came from a monster, because he would have sensed any monsters around his son. Whatever it was, it left him almost breathless and shooting up from his throne, eyes blazing.
Percy needs me, is all he said to Triton and Amphitrite before vanishing. They had understood. Sue him, as the mortals liked to say. His son had fallen into Hell, of course the god known as a protective father had become ten times more protective over his only mortal child.
So, naturally, his expression was dark with said protectiveness when his son stumbled into him. Odd, he had not been looking where he was stumb— He was stumbling. His expression darkened. Protectiveness was etched into the god’s expression, furious protectiveness, but it was too dark, because Percy flinched before him when his brow furrowed in anger. Poseidon quickly composed himself, willing his temper to be reigned in. “Percy, what happened to you? Were you hurt by monsters? Are they following you?” The god’s gaze swiftly scanned the area to check for monsters but saw none. “Is it another god? I will rip them apart if they have laid a hand on you.” Yet there was still nothing when he searched for another immortal presence. His eyes returned to his son, who was staring at him, terror still practically oozing from his entire body.
He had never seen his son like this. Percy still shrank back from him, shaking. “…Percy? Son, what…” He reached out a hand but stopped when his son flinched immediately and tripped over his own feet to avoid Poseidon’s touch. It was almost like he was… like he was…
Poseidon’s current form went cold. It took a moment for the god to realize why his son had flinched. He had reached out his hand too quickly for the demigod’s liking, and while it could be attributed to his trauma (because the god knew he had enough of that), this was different. He had never flinched around his father. Poseidon would never lay a hand on his own son, even when he was angry. So there was a singular conclusion and it took a moment to accept. Anger rose in the god’s chest. Icy, ancient, dark rage that whipped up the sea into a frenzy, that he was ever so careful to restrain because this was the rage that swallowed entire continents, not cities. The rage that spat in the face of ‘an eye for an eye’ and decided on ‘an entire lineage for an eye’. And this was the rage that was going to rip the earth apart in revenge for every mark left on his son’s skin, every vile word thrown his way.
He didn’t want to be, but if he was correct… He carefully restrained himself and held his hands up. He let Percy stay where he was, shaking and eyes darting about now, as if searching for something. Someone. The air was filled with the sounds of waves crashing, and giant, heaving, labored breathing that pained Poseidon to his core. “Percy,” he finally said softly when Percy had not fled from him. “Has someone put their hands on you?”
No mere fight would produce this sort of traumatized, highly reactive reaction. Poseidon had presided over enough cases of domestic violence in his courts to recognize the immediate signs. And it would have sickened him to his stomach, if he’d had one. How could he have missed the signs in his own child?
Percy stood there, eyes wide. This was his father. His real father. He had never been afraid of his father before but he couldn’t help it. “…” He should be stronger. He had fought dozens of monsters, faced down angry gods, stood against a primordial. So why, oh why, when Gabe had shown up at the cabin in Montauk Percy had been using for a few days, did he freeze? Why did his hands shake and he couldn’t get his voice to work? Why had he just stood there and taken every hit, every bruise that man left on his body? Why had he listened to every word uttered, every insult and nasty name, and accepted it? Even believed it? (Did he really deserve anything good?)
Why couldn’t he man up and just face him? Why was he suddenly that twelve-year-old boy again, staring at the man who had threatened to punch his lights out and grinned? That wasn’t the worst. Not even his mom had known the worst, the times Gabe had casually dropped the ways he’d like to kill Percy, or the touches— or how Gabe would come into his room and beat him in places Sally wouldn’t see. How he would even come back to admire his fucking work, and tell Percy he was lucky Gabe had let him live.
Percy only snapped back when his father, frozen in place, staring at the expressions flickering across his son’s face, finally moved again. He watched through still wide eyes as his father moved deliberately slowly, tamping down even his aura itself so Percy felt safer.
More tears stung his eyes, as he wished, not for the first time, Poseidon had stayed around. Maybe then he would be okay.
Poseidon, trying to set him at ease, did something he had never done before. The god lowered himself to his knees so he was eye level with his eighteen year old son. Stormy eyes softened into calm, soothing seas, hoping to relax the boy. The ocean soothed behind him, gently washing up on the sand (elsewhere, the Caribbean was experiencing a sudden tsunami). “Please. I can help you if you tell me. I want to help you, but I cannot if you don’t tell me what happened.” He could read the boy’s mind, or find any number of ways to uncover what happened, but Percy deserved better.
“G…” He almost choked on his words. “I-It was… it was him, dad…” He clung to himself, blue sweatshirt sleeves pulled over his hands and arms pulled up to his chest. He had last acted like this when he thought his mom was dead. “He… Found the cabin… Found me, I-I tried to get away and I don’t—I don’t know where he is… He said I—He was going to…”
An earthquake struck Mexico suddenly. There was no sign of it in his eyes. “Who?” He asked calmly.
“Smelly Gabe…” Percy finally whispered out. His entire being faltered at the confession given to the darkness around them. He wasn’t looking at his father when he confessed. He’s going to think less of him. He should be fine. He’s going to think he’s weak.
The god was quiet for a moment and bile rose in Percy’s throat. Oh, gods above, his father was going to think he was weak and despise him—
“Percy, I am only going to ask this once.” His tone remained calm, but it was firm, yet not unkind. “Did Gabe abuse you?”
Up until now, Percy’s fight to hold back his tears had been somewhat successful, choking down sobs in his throat so he could at least gasp for air. It was the question that shattered his last bits of desperate resolve, and Percy sobbed, collapsing to his knees. Heaving breaths turned into desperate crying, the boy rocking on his knees, his pain causing ten foot waves to crash onto shore.
The sea sang with grief and pain of the past, of the last fifteen years, of the truth of the matter: Percy had been abused, and he had never been able to admit it, even to himself. Not like this. And he screamed, letting loose everything he had been holding in, feeling the years and the weight of this finally break him. Percy curled into himself, doubled over and sobbing, the vivid image of his old stepfather leering in his mind. Even now, Gabe hurt him.
It took every bit of the god’s divine willpower to stop himself from pulling Percy into a hug, but unwanted touch was the last thing the poor boy needed.
Poseidon watched him, pain glowing in his eyes. For all the heroic feats his son had achieved — saving the gods, uniting the Romans and Greeks, falling into the deepest pit of Hell and surviving (growing into his own power) — Poseidon had rarely stopped to consider how young Percy was, even by human standards. Ichor flooded his mouth as he bit down on his tongue hard enough to almost sever it in half. His son was barely considered an adult, and yet he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He carried trauma and it broke the god’s heart, because he could only watch and grieve with his son.
He wasn’t expecting shaking arms to suddenly reach for him, for frail mortal hands that had held the fate of the world grab onto his ugly Hawaiian shirt (the one Percy always mercilessly teased him about) and cling so hard the knuckles turned white. It was so easy to see the child who had grown up too fast now, the one Poseidon should have been there for (damn Zeus and his fucking rules). The Sea God pulled his son into a hug, letting Percy cling to him like his life depended on it and sob into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around his son, letting his power wash over him like a gentle wave, healing every physical injury he could and trying to ease some of the emotional ones.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He didn’t know if Percy could hear him over the storm his emotions were whipping up, but it didn’t matter. No words could fix this. “It will be okay. You’re safe. You’re safe now, Percy. I won’t ever let him hurt you again, I promise.”
Poseidon’s reputation had always warned those who thought to harm his children, mortals and gods and even demigods alike. The sea did not take kindly to its own being hurt. Odysseus had merely wounded Polyphemus in self-defense and had been lost for ten years at sea. Polyphemus was one of Poseidon’s least favorite children. Perhaps this ‘Gabe’ didn’t know of Percy’s true parentage, but he was about to learn a violent, painful lesson, and it would not be a quick one. When Percy couldn’t see, Poseidon’s eyes glowed with a bright green fire. If one looked close enough, they could see ships wrecking, sailors dying, monsters rising from the depths of the ancient seas, like an Iris-message showing what his domain was doing in reaction to his emotions. (Amphitrite and Triton were working to mediate, but once they learned the cause, their own fury would join the god’s.)
Poseidon had not felt this sort of fury in centuries, even when Zeus had accused Percy of theft. No, this fury was reserved for the most deserving. Mortal or not, this Gabe certainly deserved the wrath of the entire sea. And he would soon understand that ancient myths had, in fact, actually downplayed just how vindictive of a father Poseidon could be. His form flickered, and for a moment, Neptune was snarling silently in rage too (after all, Percy was a son of Neptune now, too, and his Roman counterpart was equally protective). He reigned himself in. Percy needed him right now. That was his priority.
Later? Zeus and his rules could go to Tartarus. He would break these rules, consequences be fucking damned, and exact eternal revenge on that pathetic mortal.
But for now, he held his son close, wishing he had prevented this. Wishing he had stolen Apollo’s gift of prophecy those few centuries ago so maybe he could have seen this coming, could have stopped that man before he was ever within a hundred miles. Percy sobbed into his chest, entire body trembling, and Poseidon’s chest hurt. It hurt so bad that pieces of both of Canada’s coasts were currently trying to break off into the ocean. He could heal Percy’s physical injuries but by his own father, that moment of terror when his son, his beautiful, precious son, thought he would be hit again… Ichor flooded the Sea God’s mouth. Better than screaming his rage into his domain, into his brother’s, condemning his foolish rules and scaring Percy even worse.
It was bad enough his son, always so determined to be strong and pretend he was not deeply traumatized at his tender age, was fully breaking down. It was worse that Poseidon suspected this ran far deeper than Percy might ever tell him (he knew when people lied or omitted a truth). He held his precious son close and let Percy scream and cry and whip up the storm on the beach. He kept his arms around Percy and cradled the boy to his chest, rocking back and forth ever so slightly so he could help soothe his son.
“Percy…” The god’s voice was as soft as it could be when he spoke, stilling for a moment. Percy hiccuped, sobs beginning to subside. He pressed closer, hiding his face in the god’s shoulder. Poseidon sighed softly and ran a hand through his son’s jet black, seaswept curls. It seemed to soothe the demigod. “Percy, my boy, please look at me.”
With some gentle coaxing, he got Percy’s head to lift up, and he cradled his son’s face gently. The demigod’s eyes, so brilliantly sea-green like his own, were shot with red. It made the green that more brilliant. “I—I don’t wanna go back there,” he choked out, fresh tears falling. “Don’t make me—Don’t make me go back there, dad. I don’t wanna see him again, please.”
Poseidon shook his head, and what was left of his heart was further shattered. That Percy thought he would have to face that man again, to ever see him again, hurt. “I will not. You will never need to see him again. I will take care of him. No, Percy, I know you have your life here, but come back to Atlantis with me. Please let me keep you safe. I have failed so often as your father, let me do right by you.”
His eyes dropped, along with Poseidon’s stomach, if he’d had one. “Don’t wanna intrude,” he sniffled. “Your family hates me. I don’t belong there.”
“That’s not—” He had to stop himself, letting out a breath. “They used to, I will admit, and I understand why.” Wrong thing to say, as Percy flinched a little again. “What I mean to say, is that they have come around. Even Triton. He holds respect for you, and that is an admirable feat. You earned that. And because of that, he will defend you to his last breath. As will Amphitrite. You will be welcomed. Atlantis is your home too.”
Percy’s lower lip trembled. “But I can’t leave Mom up here… N-Not with him… I… I have to protect her. I have to protect her from him, and he— Oh my gods, he might go after her!”
The god, a dark gleam in his eye, shook his head firmly. “He will not even have the chance. I have your mother watched over too, Percy. And he will not escape the sea. Punishment will most certainly be wrought upon him. That is no more your concern. Please… As your father, come home with me.”
More tears dripped down Percy’s cheeks as he forced himself to meet Poseidon’s gaze. The god’s eyes swirled with storms, both physical and emotional. The fierce love and worry there had his throat closing up again. “…You promise he won’t hurt me again?”
He nodded solemnly. “I swear it on the River Styx.”
Percy fell back into his arms, curled up like a small child hiding from the world, which he was. He never wanted to leave his father’s safe embrace again. “…I can’t stay forever,” he mumbled. “Mom and Chiron and the others will worry.”
”I will send word, Percy. I will take care of everything and you will stay as long as you like.” He stood, cradling his youngest, his most favorite, his most broken child to his chest and walked to the water. “Sleep,” he whispered, letting the boy slowly drift off into a exhausted, dreamless rest. They disappeared into the waters, headed for home. He knew Percy had a long road to healing ahead of him, but Poseidon (and Sally and Paul and Chiron and Annabeth and so many others) would be there every step of the way.
Sleep, and rest easy, child. You don’t have to fight anymore.