Archive of Our Own ^beta

He always expected Gabe’s statue to be larger than it was.

As a child, his stepfather had seemed larger than life, a creature that had haunted both his waking and sleeping moments.

In the museum, placed among the other statues, he seemed small.

“Still no chance of your mom making more?” one of the employees asked, their glasses slipping down their nose.

Percy shook his head, still looking at Gabe. “She’s focused on writing,” he said. “This was more of a side project.”

They sighed, but smiled. They always asked, and Percy’s response was always the same. At this point, he liked the tradition.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” they said, gathering their things. They didn’t know the story behind the statue (no one did, not really, and how could they?) but they were observant enough to see how it affected Percy. The staff always left him alone on his rare visits, and his fellow patrons never bothered him.

He closed his eyes, letting the soft chatter of a nearby couple looking at another statue wash over him without hearing the words. When he opened them, he looked at Gabe’s face again, staring at the man’s ugly features. He looked better in death than he ever had in life, but that wasn’t saying much. He was grotesque, the cruelty clear on his frozen features, even like this. Percy hated him more than perhaps anyone, or anything, else.

Finally, he sighed, and took a step backwards.

Gabe was dead and gone, and could no longer hurt him or his other. There was no reason for him to come back, year after year, to see the statue.

He left without a backwards glance, heart in his throat and an oddly tight feeling in his chest.

He feared Gabe still. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he did. He feared the man’s broken bottles and burning cigars, feared his harsh words and even harsher fists. He feared the way he’d harm his mother. He still dreamt of Gabe at times. Those dreams were always the worst, despite all that he’d experienced in his still short life. He would almost prefer the nightmares of Tartarus. Those left him shaken and raw, but they were somehow different.

The dreams of Gabe left Percy jumping at shadows and feeling like a small child once more, nursing a broken arm or cigar burn and trying to cover his ears so he didn’t have to hear Gabe rant and rave about how useless he was.

His mom looked up when he got back to the apartment, the smile immediately slipping off her face when she saw his expression. Percy hadn’t told her where he was going, but she knew. She always did.

So did Paul.

His stepfather smiled, a kind look on his face, and picked up Estelle. She made a noise of annoyance and struggled to be put down and reunited with her blocks, stubborn to a fault.

“I think we need to go to the park,” Paul said nonchalantly, immediately distracting the toddler. “This one,” he continued, bouncing Estelle in his arms, “has far too much energy.”

Percy bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. A part of him wanted to protest—he had grown to love Paul, and adored Estelle beyond measure—but he didn’t. He just wanted his mom right now.

Paul managed to get out of the apartment remarkably quickly, even with Estelle trying to ‘help’, her blocks long forgotten by the promise of the nearby playground.

Percy jumped when his stepfather shut the door, taken back to years past when the door closing meant his stepfather had returned home.

“Percy, baby.”

He looked back to his mother, lips trembling. She smiled sadly, tears in her eyes, and held out her arms.

Percy didn’t hesitate. This was his mom, the one person who’d been there for him through thick and thin. Percy had doubted a lot in his life, but he had never doubted her love. He joined her on the sofa and curled up against her side as if he was a small child again and his mother could chase all the monsters away.

She kissed the top of his head, letting her lips linger, and didn’t speak. There was no need to.

“It’s fine,” Percy sighed, wincing when Will prodded at his forearm. “It’s not like I’m doing much of anything now.”

Will glared at him, brows knit together.

Percy pushed down a smile. Will’s glare was hardly intimidating, not when Percy could see the concern in his blue eyes.

“It’s not fine,” Will protested, grumpy and unafraid to show it. “I’ve reattached limbs, Percy. A broken arm is nothing. But…”

Percy shrugged, barely resisting the urge to pull his arm out of Will’s gentle grasp. “I’ve broken it a couple times,” he explained, not wanting Will to worry or doubt himself. “It’s probably just messed up now, or something.”

Will made a faint humming noise and returned his attention to Percy’s arm. “Maybe,” he said, not sounding happy. He finally sighed and let go. “That’s all I can do,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Percy protested immediately. He moved his wrist in a circle, testing the tendons and bone. It was sore, but he’d had worse. He’d make do. And, he’d much rather he break something that a child get hurt. He swore they grew more and more fearless each year.

Will grunted, but didn’t reply, already busy with something else.

Percy rolled his eyes and resolved to find a way to make it up to his friend. Will was one of the best healers he’d ever known, but even he could not work miracles. Percy doubted even Apollo could fix his arm at this point. Some hurts ran far too deep.

“See you later?”

Will looked up with a sunny smile, though the worry was still evident in his eyes. He wouldn’t forget this, but he also knew when not to push. Percy appreciated that about him. It was a wonderful quality for a healer to have.

“Yup!” he said, “I just need to finish a couple of things here; I’ll catch up to you soon.”

Percy nodded, then left. He liked the Apollo kids well enough, but he had no interest in another one of them accosting him to try and heal something or another. Or even worse, try to teach him archery.

“Everything okay?”

Percy jumped, then grinned at Annabeth. “You need a bell, or something,” he laughed.

Her expression didn’t change. “Everything okay?” she repeated. She took his arm, running gentle fingers over the bones that he’d so recently broken. She knew. She always knew.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “All good,” he confirmed, not untruthfully. He was fine, and his arm was as healed as it would ever be. That was enough.

And, he knew he was luckier than most demigods. Gabe haunted him at times, yes, but he had been gone from Percy’s life for years, and had not been that bad, all things considered. His presence had allowed Percy to remain with his mother longer, after all. And Percy knew what some of the other demigods had been through with their mortal parents. He was one of the lucky ones.

He had his mom, he had Paul, and he had Estelle. He had so much more than most demigods did, and he knew enough to be grateful. He had family, and he had love. He always would.

Gabe hadn’t even hit him all that often. Even the broken arms had been mistakes; a drunken grabs gone too far. If Percy had been a mere mortal, it may be different. But he wasn’t.

Annabeth eyed him, apparently sensing the turn his thoughts had taken, but remained silent. Percy tangled his fingers in hers, smiling ruefully. “You good?” he asked.

She smiled, a small quirk of her lips, but didn’t answer. Percy took it as a yes, even though he could tell she was still unhappy. She never did well at seeing him hurt.

“Come on,” he said, swinging their joined hands playfully just to see her smile. “Want to go to the dock before dinner?”

Her smile finally widened into something more sincere. “Sure,” she said. “But you’re taking it easy.”

Percy grinned and kissed her cheek again, just because he could. “Anything you say.”

She remained silent as they walked, face tilted up to the sun. “If you need to talk…” she said, trailing off. She finally sighed before smiling ruefully. “I’m here for you; you know that, right?”

Percy swallowed down a sudden surge of anxiety, not so much at Annabeth’s words, but the memories they brought. He was fine. He had to be fine. His suffering was nothing compared to so many others, Annabeth included. He was fine.

“I know,” he said, then, “race you to the dock!”

Annabeth spluttered out a laugh, but ran to catch up with him, letting the emotional moment pass. Percy knew she hadn’t forgotten (he wouldn’t if their situations were reversed), but she would let the matter rest unless he brought it up again, and not a moment before. She knew, perhaps more than anyone besides his mother, how this affected him.

“You win,” she said, laughing and following him onto the dock at the lake.

Percy brushed a curl away from her face, trying to thank her without saying the words, and smiled.

Campfire, later, was better than Percy expected. He’d been slightly worry Will would say something, but he should have known better. Will was far too professional for that.

Nico, on the other hand, was more of a concern.

“It’s all anyone can talk about,” he said over a mouthful of marshmallow. “How you caught some kid on the rock-climbing wall.”

Percy shrugged. “He would have been hurt.”

Nico raised a dark eyebrow. “You were hurt,” he pointed out.

Percy rolled his eyes and took the piece of chocolate Annabeth handed him. “Barely,” he retorted. “Like Will said,” he continued, nodding towards where the son of Apollo was talking with another camper, “he’s reattached limbs. A broken arm is nothing.” He shoved the piece of chocolate in his mouth, annoyed at how antsy he was over the conversation. Nico meant no harm. That much Percy knew. He was simply nosy, and prone to worrying over Will, and Will was prone to worrying over everyone.

Nico made a face. “Will doesn’t usually worry this much,” he retorted.

“Who’s worried?” Will asked, leaving his conversation to join Nico.

“You’re worried,” Nico said, his frown deepening.

Will rolled his eyes and reached for his own marshmallow. “I’m really not,” he said.

Nico shot his boyfriend a glare. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said bluntly, if truthfully.

“I’m not worried about my abilities as a healer,” Will expanded. He sat down beside Nico, pressing close. “All is well.”

Percy exhaled slowly, pushing the odd surge of anxiety away as well as he could. Annabeth put a hand over his arms in a soothing gesture, right where the bone had been broken one too many times. He smiled at her, hating that Gabe could still make him feel like this all these years later.

Nico, however, was not to be deterred. Percy almost missed when Nico had acted like he’d hated him. Nico still would have been curious, but he wouldn’t have said anything.

“I know when you’re worried,” he said somewhat waspishly, his concern making him short. “And you’re worried about Percy.” He turned his attention back to Percy, a mulish glare on his face. Percy ignored him, focusing instead on toasting a marshmallow and trying to tune the conversation out.

“Percy’s fine,” Will insisted. He leaned back and shoved a marshmallow into his mouth, blond hair shining under his father’s sun. Percy loved how late it set in the summer. “Promise.”

“But—”

“Drop it,” Annabeth snapped harshly.

Nico flinched back minutely before grimacing and spreading his hands in a voiceless apology.

Percy pulled his marshmallow from the fire and remained silent.

“Sorry,” Nico said. It sounded like the word pained him. “But you two are acting weird.”

Annabeth said something else, tone cutting. She knew how this affected Percy, though they really hadn’t spoken of it much, and worry tended to make her short. In any other circumstances, Percy would have felt bad for Nico. Today, however, he was too busy trying to push memories away.

Nico finally made a louder noise of irritation, drawing Percy from his memories. He’d apparently missed a lot while he’d been lost in thought.

“I broke it as a kid, and it never quite healed right,” he said, stopping Nico and Annabeth from sniping further, and saving Will from having to play referee for two strong personalities. “That’s all.”

Nico had been through so much more than him. So many demigods had, especially those who lived at camp year round. A poorly healed break was nothing, nor were Gabe’s other actions. Percy had no reason to feel so ill at the mere mention of the man. It made him feel like a fraud, or like a terrified child again. He knew Gabe was not normal, but Percy wasn’t either. Nothing about life as a demigod was.

Nico closed his mouth with a snap, eyes narrowed.

Percy stood before his friend could say anything, still anxious and hating the feeling. Life was supposed to be easier now. He had his mother, his friends at New Rome University, and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Gabe shouldn’t be dogging his steps.

“I’ll see you guys later,” he said. He walked off without a backwards glance, needing to be by the sea. That would calm him, as it always did.

Annabeth joined him after several minutes, stepping close to his back and wrapping her arms around his waist. She hooked her chin on his shoulder, body a line of warmth. Percy relaxed into her, allowing her to hold some of his weight.

“Will’s holding Nico back,” she said lightly. “He won’t push more; not tonight.”

Percy breathed in deeply, then exhaled just as slowly. “Thanks,” he finally said. “For…” he trailed off. He wasn’t even really sure what he was shaking Annabeth for at this point. He just knew he’d wanted the conversation to stop, and hadn’t been able to voice that himself.

She squeezed him even more tightly. “No need to thank me,” she said firmly.

Percy turned his head to the side to kiss her, laughing when he got a mouthful of blond curls instead.

“Go,” Annabeth ordered, laughing herself now. “You need some time in the sea, I think. That always helps.”

“You always help,” Percy countered, though he knew what she meant. He spun in her arms, wanting to see her face. “See you soon?”

She smiled gently, still visibly worried, but not pushing. “Of course.”

He immediately felt better once he was in the sea, relaxed in a way he couldn’t even begin to articulate. His worries were still there, as was the annoying anxious feeling that hadn’t left since he’d broken his arm, but it wasn’t nearly as bad here. He really should have just come here first.

Oh well.

“What are you doing here?”

“I swear you find me faster every time,” Percy said wryly, looking over at Triton. “And to think you used to hate me.”

Triton swam closer, dark hair a halo around his head. “Foolish child,” he chided. He fussed over Percy as he always did, leaving Percy laughing.

“I was at camp,” Percy said, unwilling to tell Triton anything more. “It made sense to come here as well.”

Triton made a soft humming sound and pulled Percy along, swimming with him further to the palace. Percy sighed to himself, though let Triton manhandle him. It was no use arguing with him, though Percy would much rather be on his own.

It hurt being around him sometimes. Especially now that Triton liked him. It was easier when Percy had been sure Triton, Amphitrite, and everyone else in his father’s realm hated him. If they hated him, Percy could tell himself his childhood made sense. He could convince himself that Gabe had been the only option, and the cruelty he and his mother had faced and the scars they bore were worth it.

He couldn’t pretend anymore.

His father professed to love him, and even Triton and Amphitrite cared. If they’d known about him earlier…

Percy forced himself to stop thinking. This line of thought hurt, and some things were still too raw. He flexed his wrist again, hating that the slight pain in the bone helped ground him.

“I gotta go,” he said, breaking free from Triton’s grasp. His brother would likely think he was being rude, but Percy couldn’t bring himself to care. “See you later?”

“Perseus…”

He shook his head and tried to smile. “Later!”

He swam off before Triton could say anything more, unable to remain in his presence any longer. Percy wanted to be in the sea, but he was starting to regret coming here. He just wanted to be alone. He made his way to what he thought was a battlement, still half in ruins from Oceanus’ attack all those years ago. It was quiet here, peaceful. Percy could watch the currents and fish, the other sea creatures, at not have to worry about anything or anyone else.

Eventually, Poseidon joined him. Percy was just thankful it wasn’t Triton again, or Amphitrite.

His father remained silent for several minutes, leaving Percy the time to get his bearings.

“Triton means well,” he finally said. “But he has the tendency to be overbearing.”

Percy snorted. “Yeah,” he agreed. That was one word for it. He lapsed into silence again, focusing on a nearby fish instead of his father. Poseidon remained silent as well, apparently content to allow Percy the time to gather his rather tumultuous thoughts. He watched yet another fish dart by, heart in his throat.

“Sometimes,” he finally said, switching his attention to the way the sunlight streamed through the water, “sometimes I think I hate you all.”

Poseidon swam closer, though he still did not speak. Once, Percy would have been terrified of speaking to his father like this, but no longer. Now he was just tired. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. He just wanted his mom.

“We failed you,” Poseidon agreed. He remained where he was, close to Percy but not quite touching, form exuding power that made the hair on Percy’s arms stand up. “I’ve failed you.”

Percy opened his eyes. It was getting late, and the sun was close to setting now. He looked up towards the surface, studying the hints of colour that were starting to steam through the currents.

“Yeah,” he agreed, the word a weight on his tongue. Admitting it felt like a form of failure, though he knew it was not his fault.

Poseidon moved to hover beside him, looking down at Percy rather than at his realm. “There is no way to change the past,” the god said, “that is beyond even my power.”

“I know,” Percy said, tired and anxious and furious at himself and his father. “I just—”

“I am not finished,” Poseidon interjected, a hint of amusement in his voice. “There is no changing the past,” he repeated. “But that does not mean I do not regret that I did not do things differently. I am sorry, my son.”

Percy swallowed down a ball of emotions he could not name, then laughed somewhat wetly. “I didn’t think gods knew how to apologise,” he said, trying and failing at humour.

“Typically no,” Poseidon agreed. He put a hand on Percy’s shoulder, anchoring him to the world. “But I can make an exception for you.”

Percy shook his head, ignoring the way his hands shook. “It doesn’t change anything,” he whispered.

“No,” Poseidon agreed. “But it may change the future.”

Percy finally smiled, knowing what his father meant. The god was not, as a general rule, the comforting sort, but Percy appreciated that he’d even tried. “I should get back to camp,” he said. “I left kinda quickly.”

Poseidon hummed. “Triton said you appeared rather… out of sorts.”

“Triton worries too much,” Percy retorted.

“He does,” Poseidon agrees. He removed his hand from Percy’s shoulder after squeezing it once more. “You remind him of his daughter, Pallas. He will always worry for you.”

Percy looked up at his father, wondering what he could possibly say to that. He settled on nothing, though made a note to remember his words. For all Triton’s flaws, Percy appreciated him, and was growing to love him.

Today was simply too raw.

“I’ll comer back again soon,” he said, managing to smile again.

Poseidon laughed loudly, startling a nearby school of fish. “See that you do,” he ordered. “We miss you when you are not around, child.”

Percy nodded and murmured something in goodbye before leaving, bypassing the palace and its many residents. Annabeth would be worried, and he didn’t even want to think about how Nico and Will would have reacted to his sudden departure. That wasn’t fair on them.

He was fine. He was always fine.

He was one of the lucky ones. He had no reason to still fear Gabe.

And, if he said that enough, maybe he’ll start to believe it

“I was starting to think you were going to stay with your dad,” Annabeth said, sitting in the sand where he’d left her what felt like years ago, but had barely been over an hour. Any other time, he’d be proud of himself for how quickly he could move through the currents. 

“And miss spending time with you?” Percy quipped. “Never.”

Annabeth laughed and let him pull her to her feet before she wrapped an arm around his waist again, leading him back to camp. It was cool out now, and she’d stolen one of his hoodies. Privately, Percy thought it looked better on her than it did on him. He leaned into her side and draped an arm over her shoulders, wanting to closeness. He didn’t often want others to touch him, but Annabeth was always an exception.

“Did you stay here the whole time?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I hadn’t planned on it, but I was worried about you. I still am. And,” she added, lessening the moment with a smile. “It was quieter.”

He looked towards the now quiet fire pit instead of replying, anxious once more. Nico and Will were still there, as were several others. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see either of them, regardless of how much he liked them. It was enough that Will knew something was off. He didn’t think he wanted Nico to as well, not when he’d been through so much more and needed to heal. He didn’t need to worry about Percy on top of that, especially not in regards to something that didn’t matter.

“We can just go to bed,” Annabeth offered.

Percy snorted to himself. She always knew when something wasn’t quite right. “It’s fine,” he said honestly. And it was. Nico and Will were his friends; there was no reason to avoid them just because he was feeling so strange.

She gave him a sidelong look, concerned, but willing to follow his lead.

Nico frowned when they approached, then shot Annabeth a mild glare. She glared right back, making him smile. Percy decided he never would understand their friendship. ‘

Will gave them a lopsided smile, face lit but the remnants of the fire. “All good?” he asked.

Percy nodded and sat down next to him, grabbing a graham cracker so he had something to do with his hands. The anxiety was back, leaving him wishing he’d remained under the sea. He leaned back, then winced, annoyed at himself. At this point, he should know better than to put any weight on his bad wrist.

“It’s still bothering you,” Nico said slowly. The smile had dropped from his face, leaving his expression blank. “You were just in the sea. It should be fine.”

Percy pressed himself closer to Annabeth’s, both to stop her from snapping and to comfort himself. “Like I said, I broke it as a kid, and it never healed right.”

Nico shook his head, visibly growing more concerned. Percy watched him, feeling oddly guilty. He never wanted anyone to worry about him, especially not about something like this. “How badly did you break it?” Nico demanded. “I’ve seen you heal from way worse injuries.”

Percy looked back at the fire. “I broke it a few times,” he admitted. “Three? Maybe four? We couldn’t afford a doctor, and Gabe—” he cut himself off, clenching his teeth together. “It healed badly, if it had time to heal at all.”

Nico remained silent for several long moments, looking as though he were deep in thought. Finally, he spoke again. “Who’s Gabe?” he asked, voice soft. Percy didn’t think he’d heard Nico sound so hesitant in years, and a part of him felt horribly guilty. The rest of him was too busy trying not to cry.

“His first stepfather,” Annabeth answered, speaking on his behalf when he sent her a look. She smiled and pushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear, reminding him he should cut it soon.

“Percy…”

“He wasn’t that bad,” Percy said, trying and failing at nonchalance. “Not like what most people here have dealt with. He just liked drinking, and sometimes grabbed me too hard,” he continued, pushing down the memory of pain the words brought forth. He’d been through so much worse, as had everyone here. He had no reason to feel like he could not breathe just when remembering Gabe.

Nico fell immediately silent.

Will sat up and smiled, something sad in his eyes, but likewise remained silent. He seemed to understand that this moment was for Percy and Nico, not for him. Even Annabeth stayed silent, though Percy knew she’d help in a moment if he gave the word.

He finally sighed when Nico continued to stare at him as if he’d confessed the worst thing imaginable. “It’s not that bad,” he insisted. “And really not a big deal.”

Nico cut him off. “No, that’s pretty bad,” he said, eyes narrowed. “How is your stepfather getting drunk and breaking your arm more than once not that bad?!”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “Compared to—”

“Nope,” Nico said. “Just…” he trailed off. “That’s not normal, you know that, right?”

Percy looked away. It was normal. It had to be normal. Otherwise, he thought he would fall apart.

“It’s in the past,” he finally said. “It doesn’t matter.”

Nico threw a marshmallow at his head, eyes narrowed. High above, the stars shone, uncaring of the conversation going on below. Hopefully, no gods were eavesdropping—Percy had no interest in his life being gossip fodder. “What was that for?” he spluttered. He tossed the marshmallow into the fire, watching it burn.

“It matters,” he insisted. He paused for a long moment, then tossed another marshmallow into the flames. It caught fire quickly, giving Percy something else to focus on. Annabeth squeezed his hand, her touch warm and comforting. “You didn’t deserve that, you know that, right?”

Percy watched the remnants of the fire, heart in his chest. He did know it, in a way. But he always told himself it hadn’t been that bad, and that others had been through worse. He’d always had his mom to love him.

Nico finally stood and got to his feet. “I’m right,” he insisted.

Will stood as well, yawning wildly. “Time for bed,” he said. He smiled at Percy and took Nico’s hand, swinging it playfully. “See you tomorrow?”

Annabeth responded for the both of them, making some plans to play a game of volleyball or something. Percy barely paid them any attention, trusting that she would be on top of things while he wasn’t able to be.

“Want to stay here for a bit?” she asked. “The harpies won’t bother us. I’ll throw something at them if they try.”

“My hero,” he said, grinning over at her. The smile dropped from his face almost as soon as it had appeared at the look in her eyes. “I don’t need any pity,” he said awkwardly.

She snorted and tugged him into her arms., supporting him as he often supported her. “Never,” she said. “But if I figure out necromancy, I will be bringing him back to life so I can kill him again. I think Nico would help.”

Percy laughed, torn between surprise and humour.

“I’m right,” she continued blithely, “And Will as well. I’m sure I could rope in others as well.”

Percy settled back against Annabeth, looking up at the sky. The memories of Gabe were still there, but faded now. Hopefully, they would stay that way. Some things needed to stay in the past.

“Nico’s right, you know?” she finally said, running a hand through his hair. “It matters, and you didn’t deserve anything Gabe did to you.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he sighed, tired of trying to convince himself.

“He hurt you,” Annabeth said. “That’s bad enough. And, incidentally, it was that bad. I’m never wrong.”

Percy sighed instead of answering. He knew. He thought he always had, even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to himself. That hardly made things easy. “It’s in the past,” he finally said.

Annabeth hummed in agreement, dropping the subject for the time being. Percy leant more on her, trusting her to keep him safe, even against the remnants of memory.

Gabe was gone, and could no longer harm him or his mother. One day, his mind may realise that as well. Until then, he’d contend himself with visiting his statue for the reminder.

Maybe one of these days, he’d even bring Annabeth.

Or, terrifyingly, Nico.