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Percy wakes up feeling cold, with the echoes of Tartarus's horrors ringing in his ears and the sound of his mother's voice saying his name. It's been just over a year since he escaped the pit, and yet it still has the faintest of holds over him. Granted, Percy is in a far better mental state than he was when he got out, and he’s down to an average of one nightmare per week instead of two or three per night.
Feeling the tendrils of panic threatening to consume him, Percy closes his eyes and breath slowly, counting until his mind settles. He grounds himself by focusing on his immediate surroundings. The ever present scent of the earth. The impossibly soft and smooth sheets underneath him. The memory foam pillow, cool to the touch and laced with spells to ward off demigod dreams and nightmares. The shared blanket is cozy and warm. Beside him, Hades lies sleeping on his front, his face planted into a dark red pillow with their legs tangled together and one arm draped across Percy’s torso protectively—or maybe possessively—and the other curled around Persephone. Percy listens to the soft puffs of her breath as his racing heart slows back down.
He’s safe here.
The charm his father, Poseidon had given him shortly after the end of the second giant war works its magic, and Percy's recollection of the nightmare and the associated fear and sense of doom fades away. The sound of his mother Sally's voice saying his name doesn't fade, however. It repeats again, slightly louder this time like Percy is just barely within earshot. Percy catches a few other words: pancakes and time. This time, he knows it's real—hearing his mom’s voice wasn’t part of the Tartarus nightmare.
Wherever his mom is, right now, she's saying his name and Percy can hear it in his mind all the way from inside Hades’ bedroom in his palace in the underworld.
It's moments like these that remind Percy how close to godhood he is. It’s in the way Percy constantly feels like he’s larger than his physical body. He can feel the Olympic sized sea water pool Hades made for him a few months into their relationship. He can feel the smaller pools of freshwater, with Persephone’s flowers growing at the edges like an oasis in the middle of Hades’s stone and metal kingdom. He can feel the ancient underworld rivers running through Hades’s kingdom, and remembers how when he reaches for them they fight his control but ultimately bend under his will. If he stretches his senses, he can even glimpse his father’s domain all the way on the surface world, the ocean constantly churning with pollution littering the waters and troubling the marine life: the ones who call him lord, the ones he protects.
Percy knows it would only take a single push or using his powers just a little too much to break the fragile membrane containing his mortality. He had already done it once before, after all. It had only been grace - or perhaps pity - from the fates that he had been able to repair it. Percy knows he’s so far away from being a demigod, even a demigod of the big three, that some of the newcomers at camp half blood and the legacies in camp Jupiter mistake him for a minor god. And that’s not just because he’s on a first name basis with most of the Olympians, countless minor gods and immortals. Neither is it due to the way pegasus, horses and marine life bow to him and clamor for his attention and favor, the way they would Poseidon or his godly kin.
Most days, he can barely remember what it was like to be mortal. The sea is always in the back of his mind singing its siren song, beckoning him to accept his fate and reminding Percy of the non-insignificant power he holds over the very fabric of the world.
He hasn’t told anyone how strong he’s become. The only person who has an inkling of how powerful he’s become is Annabeth, after she had seen him strangle Akhlys with her own domain, stand at the edge of chaos without losing his sanity, and jump hundreds of feet with her on his back while they were Tartarus. Annabeth had been terrified of him, to the point where she’d cried. They had never really recovered from that. Percy wasn’t comfortable with the idea of being in a relationship with someone who feared him regardless of the fact that he’d never lift a hand or power to hurt her. It reminded him too much of his childhood; watching his mother slowly grow to fear Smelly Gabe as his abuse grew worse to the point where she felt like a prisoner in her own life.
When Percy had tried to talk to Annabeth about it, she had attempted to resolve the issue by making him promise not to use the blessing his father had given him to survive: his power over poison. The non-tangible restraint had worn away at his temperament and he’d grown restless and irritable. Then one day Nico had shown up at camp, poisoned and dying. Chiron and Will hadn’t been able to do anything. Apollo was mortal, off somewhere on a quest with Jason and Meg. Percy had removed the poison from Nico, and saved his life. The resulting fight with Annabeth had been terrible and emotion driven, on both sides. She was scared of his powers corrupting him, like Kronos’s influence had corrupted Luke. Percy was tired of all the unspoken comparisons between him and Luke influencing Annabeth to control his power, to control him. The sea does not like to be restrained—a quality Percy knows he gets from both of his parents—so he had broken up with her.
It hadn’t been an easy break and even now over a year later, they’ve only exchanged a few stilted words in the company of others. Annabeth hadn’t been his best friend—that place is firmly held by Grover—but she had been one of his longest friends and the person he thought he could trust most to unconditionally have his back in battle and quests alike. The fact that had been disproven when he needed her support most—while he was being tortured and fighting for their lives in the depths of Tartarus—had cut deep. It would take years for that wound to heal, if it ever did.
Percy sighs and opens his eyes. He stares through the pitch darkness of Hades’s bedroom. It takes a moment for Percy’s eyes to switch spectrums, from seeing visible light to infrared. (Percy hadn’t realized his eyes were heat sensitive until he had visited his dad’s kingdom before the Battle of Manhattan. That far below the surface there was no light from the sun, so his dad’s people had evolved to see infrared light instead. Percy and Tyson had both inherited that trait).
Percy knows that he needs to talk to his dad, and eventually Hades and Persephone about the fragile membrane separating his mortality and godhood. Every month, everyday it grows thinner and thinner. There’s a deadline coming up, and Percy worries about their reactions. He knows a good part of it is baggage from his relationship with Annabeth. He knows that they’re gods so they won’t be scared of his power like she was, but he still worries about how they’ll react. He more or less knows where he stands with Hades and Persephone as their mortal lover. He knows where he stands with his dad as his only demigod son. If- no, when he becomes a god, that will change.
Not to mention, there’s only one other case of a demigod ascending. Dionysus. Percy following the same path proves that it wasn’t just a singular event. He would represent the start of a very alarming pattern. He doesn’t think Hades and Poseidon would be too concerned, but he knows Zeus and Athena will. Ever the paranoid conspiracy theorists, they’ll resume the accusations that Poseidon and Hades are working together to overthrow Zeus that had started when news of Percy, Hades and Persephone getting together had reached Olympus.
As if his mom knows that Percy is brooding, she says his name again. This time, Percy catches another word: Estelle. His name is echoed again by Paul, and then a moment later by Poseidon, both of his dads addressing his little sister and saying something about him. Despite his current mood, Percy smiles fondly. He told Estelle that he would be returning home this morning, and he knows she gets impatient, as all one and a half year old children do.
A week before Hera kidnapped him before the Second Giant War, Sally and Paul had told Percy that they were pregnant: Sally was having another baby. Percy had been ecstatic. Months later, after Percy had made that deal with Gaea to get his memory back, knowing that he had a baby sibling waiting to meet him at home had been a huge point of strength and hope for him. The thought of his baby sibling had carried him through the second great prophecy quest on the Argo II when his homesickness had gotten so bad he struggled to get out of bed. It had carried him through Tartarus seeing horrific gods like Nyx, the edge of Chaos and Tartarus. It had carried him through Annabeth fearing him, crying and begging him not to use his poison powers that had saved his life countless times.
When they got back to Camp Half Blood, Percy hadn’t wasted a moment. The minute he knew he could leave without either camp resuming their fighting, Percy had returned home. Meeting baby Estelle, only a few months old, had been just as joyful and tearful as he dreamed it would be. It was honestly one of the best moments in his life. He knows if not for Estelle and his mom, he would’ve given up upon seeing Tartarus and he wouldn’t have left the pit alive.
Percy carefully untangles himself from Hades and Persephone. As much as he enjoyed spending the last week wrapped up with them, he needs to head home. His mom - and him to an extent, if he’s being honest - both developed separation anxiety after Hera kidnapped him. As much as this week was for him, Hades and Persephone, it was a test for him and his mom as well. It’s the longest they’ve been apart since Hera kidnapped him.
Percy makes an effort not to disturb his lovers. He’ll wake them up to say goodbye before he leaves, if they aren’t up by then. Greek gods don’t need sleep per say, but they do have periods of less activity and rest. Percy doubts that Hades and Persephone are sleeping the way a mortal would; their consciousnesses are simply elsewhere in the world, a more tangible version of the way demigods dream and project their minds elsewhere.
Percy quietly grabs a towel and heads over to take a bath, closing the door behind him.
Hades’ bathroom is a ridiculously large thing of history, art and architecture. He modeled it after the baths in Camp Jupiter, which in turn were modeled after the ancient roman baths. There are four sections. The first, the calidarium is a small pool about the size of a sauna filled with hot water, and a spray of hot water in the corner like a showerhead. The second, the laconicums is a dry sauna with a few comfortable wooden chairs and benches. The third, the tepidarium is a larger lukewarm warm pool long enough to swim in. The last, the frigidarium is a small pool filled with cold water, with a spray of cold water in the corner mimicking a showerhead.
At the thought of the frigidarium, the smallest of smiles lifts up the corner of Percy’s lips. Persephone hates it with a passion; something only made worse by her husband’s tendency to drop her in via the shadows when they’re in a more mischievous and playful moods.
Percy is familiar enough with Hades’ shower to use it in the darkness with his eyes closed. But Percy prefers seeing like a demi-god (while he’s still capable of it) instead of using his heat-sensitive eyes which glow a faint inhuman green, so he turns on the lights and dims them until the lighting reflects softly against the tiles. It’s hard to see most of the tiles like this, but Percy is familiar with the designs etched onto them. There’s scenes from Elysium, Iles of the Blest, Cerberus, Charon leading souls across the Styx and a few beautiful landscapes more Percy hasn’t found on his exploratory walks in the underworld with Mrs. O'Leary and Cerberus yet.
Inwardly, Percy smiles. All Hades’ depictions of suffering from the Fields of Punishments and the Fields of Apostles are on the outside where his undesirable guests dwell. The beautiful, kind scenes are on the inside where only Hades’ chosen family, friends, lovers and children are allowed. It’s a secret that few ever get the privilege of discovering.
Percy steps into the calidarium, descending down as the water laps at his skin, welcoming its lord. Percy sits on the underwater bench, leans against the back of the pool and lets the hot water from the spray fall on his head. One of the many perks of dating a king who also happens to be a Greek god with his own kingdom is not having to worry about utilities and expenses, like the hot water running out, or getting a nightmarish water bill at the end of the month. With a bathroom as lavish as this, Percy doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.
Percy isn’t sure how long he spends under the water, enjoying the feeling of its power rushing over him soothing his worries and aches. He’s eventually interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Hades knocking on the tiles. Through the steam and dim lighting, Percy just barely makes out Hades’ tall figure. With a thought, Percy makes the steam fade, revealing one of his godly lovers.
“Mind if I join you?” Hades asks.
Instead of answering, Percy shuffles over from underneath the spray and pats the water beside him. He knows if he tells Hades he wants time alone Hades will respect that, even if it’s time alone in Hades’s rooms. But right now he wants Hades with him.
Hades gracefully climbs over the edge of the tub, and joins him under the spray of the shower. Percy knows he’s not short, at six feet and yet Hades always makes a point of appearing just a few inches taller than him. Percy swallows, his eyes glued to Hades’ figure.
Percy had first met Hades when he was twelve, on his first quest to retrieve Zeus’s lightning bolt and to rescue his mother. He met Hades in his throne room. The god had been ten feet fall, dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. He wasn’t bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He had lounged on this throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful and dangerous as a panther.
Something about the causal implication of power, the way Hades had smiled at him then - not a real smile, but one that told Percy that Hades knew more than him, had made him feel things. He hadn’t understood the feeling yet (wouldn’t understand it for a few more years) but he had wanted to sit at Hades’ feet. Lie down, with his head resting on Hades. He wanted to be kept, safe and sound, away from the harshness of demigod life and battles the fates would have him fight. Something about the god gentled his nature. The sea does not like to be restrained, but it hadn’t felt like restraint with Hades. It had felt like something Percy could give willingly, without sacrificing bits of himself.
That feeling had never gone away and years later Percy still feels the same way around Hades. He still can’t entirely describe it but there's something graceful way Hades moves, the implicit power hiding in his lean frame makes heat curl around inside Percy’s limbs.
Hades doesn’t sit down in the water immediately. He hovers right in front of Percy. Only their heads, necks and tops of their shoulders sticking out of the water. One of Hades’s hands settle on his hip, and the other gently lifts Percy's chin up. Dark eyes study Percy’s. “You left the bed alone, darling. I wasn’t sure if you wanted company.”
“I did. I do.” Percy promises, flushing at the pet name. It’s been months since Hades and Persephone started giving him pet names, and they never cease to make his cheeks flush. Percy slides off the underwater bench to rest his arms around Hades’s shoulders and presses a kiss to his lips.
“Morning.”
Hades pulls him closer to deepen the kiss and Percy is reminded for all that Hades appears lean, he can still perfectly engulf Percy with his body, covering him entirely. Between the hot water and the firmness of being held safely within Hades’s embrace, tension that Percy hadn’t noticed fades from his body.
Percy draws back slightly to breathe. Hades, a Greek god, has no such limitations and continues kissing him, drawing a line with his lips across Percy's face to his ear.
“Is it not a good morning?” Hades murmurs, as he kisses the shell of Percy's ear, and then nips lightly at his ear lob.
Percy's breath hitches, and he tilts his head to the side to give Hades better access. “It is now.”
Something about Percy's previous mood must've shown up in his tone, because Hades draws back to look at him.
“Nightmare?” Hades asks, softly.
“Mhmm.”
Hades kisses his temple, and Percy drops his head to lean in the crook of Hades' neck.
Percy feels Hades exhale slowly. He’s seen Hades get frustrated enough with his work enough times to know that it's not frustration he's feeling; more of a helplessness that he can't wave his hand and make all Percy's problems disappear. A god feeling helpless. Years ago Percy would’ve scoffed. Now, it’s an all too familiar sight. Hades, Persephone and Poseidon all want to help him, want to ease his burdens but there are some things Percy has to come to terms with alone.
Percy hugs Hades a little tighter. He knows that Hades feels guilty that he isn't able to stop all of his nightmares. He knows the lengths Hades has gone through to help alleviate his Tartarus visions. When all the research in his domain proved insufficient, Hades had (albeit reluctantly) gone to Poseidon, and in the process of inquiring, revealed their relationship.
To say that his dad hadn’t taken it well would be the biggest understatement of the century. NYC is still repairing a few of the buildings that had crumbled until his initial earthquake rage. Percy is nearly certain that his dad had stabbed Hades with his trident, despite the fact that both of them stubbornly remain tight lipped about that meeting.
Eventually, something had changed his dad's mind. Percy isn't quite sure what happened, but he's pretty sure they compared notes and worked together because he received charms and artifacts from both of them around the same time with the same kind of magic on them. They weren't perfect; the odd vision sent by the angry gods in the pit wishing him all sorts of eternal torture still gets through, but the majority of them have stopped.
Percy knows both Hades and Poseidon aren't satisfied with even one mental attack getting through, but Percy can live with it. The nightmares don't stay with him, don't wake him up with his own screaming and don't leave him in a cold sweat terrified out of his mind of nearly every shadow in the room anymore. They're manageable. He’s able to survive with it.
“Let me wash your hair, darling.” Hades offers, his tone soft not with pity but with empathy, understanding and gentleness.
Percy sits back down on the bench and leans his head back as Hades settles behind him. The god presses a soft kiss to his shoulder, and then a moment later, Percy senses a foreign substance leak into the pool (mortal-made shampoo, his powers inform him) as Hades begins to massage it into his hair. The firm, repetitive motion against his scalp pulls him into an even more peaceful, restful state and Percy finds his eyes closing, muscles relaxing.
“What will you do today?” Hades asks, breaking the silence.
It takes a minute for Percy to break out of the gentle restful state and answer. “I’m going back home.”
“Your vacation week is over already?” Hades hums, but it’s more of a reluctant observation than a question. There’s something in his tone Percy can’t quite put his finger on. Disappointment? Reluctancy?
Nonetheless, Percy hums yes in confirmation. “Yeah. It was nice staying over for a week, instead of just weekends here and there, or trying to stay quiet in my room in mom and Paul’s apartment.”
Hades snorts in amusement. “Or trying to fit two gods and a fully grown demigod into a full sized bed?”
Percy laughs. “Yes. That.”
Hades tilts Percy’s head forward, and re-directs the hot water spray to wash out the shampoo. As soon as it’s all out of his hair, Percy senses the various runes and spells around the pool and purifies the water, getting rid of the shampoo runoff. Hades snaps open another container, this one with conditioner. He squeezes some out in his hand, then tilts Percy’s head back and slowly works it into his scalp in a massage that has no right feeling as good as it does. It nearly sends Percy back to sleep.
“If you wish, you can stay longer.” Hades says a bit suddenly, and Percy edges back into wakefulness.
As much as he’d love to spend another day with Hades and Persephone in bed, walking their dogs Mrs. O’Leary and Ceberus across Hades’s realm and sampling all the underworld-safe veggies Hermes brings for Persephone from Demeter, Percy has to decline.
“Estelle’s waiting for me, and I have to go shopping for school supplies today with mom and Paul.” Percy says, and bites his lip. He doesn’t add how he can hear Sally, Paul and Poseidon saying his name. It’s not the time nor place to reveal that, and well. He’s not ready. (He’ll never be ready). “I don’t want to put it off too long and get put on a waiting list for my textbooks when the university runs out.”
“For your marine construction courses?” Hades confirms. He directs the shower nozzle to wash the conditioner out of Percy’s hair. After Percy nods, he continues. “I could get them for you. It would be no problem.”
“Dad offered too, but I want to go shopping with mom. It’s different this time. Usually school is awful and I’m dreading it but… I think it might be different this time? The subjects are actually interesting, and the university has good accommodations for dyslexia and adhd students. I did really well on the entrance exams. I’m actually not dreading it.” Percy says, and then shakes his head with a slight chuckle. “I can’t believe I said that.”
“You deserve it.” Hades says, and there’s a quiet intensity to his voice that stops Percy in his tracks. “You deserve to have somewhere you can learn without others diminishing you for your disabilities. You deserve to have others recognize how brilliant you are.”
It’s not the first time that Hades and Persephone have complimented his intelligence. It’s strange. He’s spent his entire life being insulted and called stupid, from the teachers in his schools to Gabe, to Annabeth. He’s never felt stupid - not in the way they mean, as if he can’t think with the same level of complexities as they can, so now that he has something actively praising him - he doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s not bad, just… overwhelming. Difficult to believe at times.
Instead of responding, Percy turns and presses his lips up against Hades’, a non-verbal thank you for believing in him, for being good to him. Hades doesn’t say anything, but Percy gets the feeling that he knows what Percy means and accepts him. Meets Percy where he is, and doesn’t push for more or less.
(If Hades and Persephone don’t want him anymore when he finishes burning through the last of his mortality, Percy doesn’t know what he’ll do. He knows he’s just their mortal lover - special right now, maybe even in ten years - maybe even for the rest of his short demigod life, but in a century? Two centuries? A millennia? He’d be surprised if they remember him. He’s not permanent. He has an expiration date, a time that will come when they will no longer care for him).
Several moments later when they separate, Percy steps out of the calidarium, wrapping a towel around himself even as he uses his powers to instantly dry himself. Instead of following him, Hades stays, looking oddly pensive, if a tad something akin to sadness.
Percy knows that as soon as Hades’s day officially starts he’ll get busy very fast with expanding the underworld to make room for all the mortals that died in the Second Titan War, the Second Giant War and all the nonsense fights the gods get up to in their domains at the expense of humans, so Percy says his goodbyes and then leaves.
In the bedroom, Persephone is still asleep. Percy quietly moves around, borrowing a pair of clean pants from Persephone and swiping one of Hades’ shirts.
He knows that when he shows up for breakfast with his mom and dads, Poseidon will be miffed about it and likely make some joke at Hades’s expense before pulling him into a comfortable hug. It had taken his dad some time to accept that Percy was happy and safe with the relationship he has with Hades and Persephone. In the beginning, he crashed Percy’s dates in the underworld, or sent his subjects to deliver messages to Hades while spying on him. Now, he insists on seeing Percy in person every time he returns to the surface world. It’s a nice compromise, and Percy gets to see his dad more often so he’s no longer complaining about it.
His mom on the other hand will not hesitate to tease him about it. It used to mortify him, but now… it’s fine. It’s okay for him to enjoy having the scent of his lovers around him when they’re separated. He’s comfortable with his family knowing that he’s attached.
Dressed, Percy perches at the side of the bed and gently cards his fingers through Persephone’s hair until she shifts enough of her essence back into this body. Groggy, she rolls over to his side. There’s a look in her eye that’s mostly sleepy but also mischievous and that’s all the warning Percy gets before he’s pulled into bed, with Persephone rolling half on top of him, cuddling comfortably against his side with their legs tangled together.
“Good morning.” Percy greets, and he can’t keep the fondness out of his voice. He leans over to press a kiss against her lips, and wiggles slightly, fitting his arm around her in a comfortable half hug.
Persephone grumbles a bit more before returning his greeting, a soft breath against his neck. “Morning, Percy. Had my husband to yourself all morning in the showers, did you?”
Percy chuckles. Once upon a time, upon hearing a line like that he would’ve panicked, but he knows Persephone well enough now to know this is her version of sleepy-teasing.
“Mhmm. I got the full head massage combo with shampoo and conditioner.”
“Lucky.” Persephone says, her voice still a bit groggy with sleep. “He got you in the morning, now I get you for the rest of the day.”
“Ah, no actually I’m heading back.” Percy corrects her. Persephone lifts her head up slightly to look at him, a small frown on her quickly-awaking face. “University shopping with mom, remember?”
“That’s today.” Persephone says, and it’s not a question, more of a realization. He gets it; down in the underworld it’s hard to feel time pass with the constant darkness. She rolls over on top of him now, her hair brushing over the sides of his face and shoulders as she presses a kiss to his lips. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?”
“Estelle’s waiting on me.” Percy says, even as he kisses her back, his hands on the curve of her waist. She’s still sleep-warm and it’s addicting. Part of him never wants to move from here; wants to stay in this bed with Persephone where the inevitable can’t crash down and destroy this piece of comfort and happiness he’s carved out for himself. He knows he won’t have this forever - the fates never let him keep anything good in his life for long - so he makes sure to cherish every moment, and memorize the feel of Persephone against him.
(He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to leave, and yet all good things must come to an end).
“I promised her I’d be back for breakfast.”
A long moment passes before Persephone gives him a final kiss and moves off him. “I guess I can’t compete with that.”
There’s something strange in her voice, something that she isn’t revealing. Something that makes her unhappy and Percy doesn’t like it. Doesn’t want to leave on uncertain or bad terms. It trips him up, and he’s left feeling a little unsteady. But before Percy questions her, her smile is back as she sits up and turns to look at him. The corner of her lips are turned downward every so slightly, but she looks happy. It worries him. He doesn’t want to lose her. Not yet. He knows it’s inevitable, but he’d like to hold onto this piece of paradise for as long as he can.
Persephone gets out of bed and drapes one of the informal gowns that’s more of a long, board scarf around her. She must recognize the uncertainty in his eyes because she soothes it, telling him he’s okay before wishing him a good day shopping. Just like Hades she smiles at him, proudly fierce of his accomplishments in a way that Percy’s slowly warming up too.
Eventually they untangle and say their goodbyes. Persephone grabs a tower and heads for the baths while Percy heads for the upper world where Estelle is anxiously waiting for him (alongside his dad, who might be infinitely older than Estelle, but no less… eager to see him).
At the edge of the palace grounds, Percy stops and turns back. He tells himself he’ll be back. (He has to. If he doesn’t-) It’s not the last time. (It can’t be. He’s not ready). He’ll see them again, they’ll get to spend another romantic week together. With one last pat to Cerberus and Mrs. O’leary’s snouts, he returns to the mortal world, pushing his fears beneath the desire to reunite with his mom, step-dad, dad and little sister.
It’ll be fine, for now. He still has some time left.