Why is Everything so Loud?! (Fem. Percy)

Quiet

I trembled like a leaf, pressed against Dad. His hand rested over my ear, while his side luckily blocked the other. I could get away with this. Being sick, susceptible to headaches, it was the only time I could do this. The low mumbles of the council echoed off the walls and ceiling. Dad's chest rumbled, he shifted, and his hand fell away. 

"Come on now," said Dad softly. He guided me up, hands under my arms. It wasn't hard for him to pick me up, hold me. I mewled and blindly snuggled against him. Warm. Maybe I could take a nap? Before I could decide whether to or not, Dad started moving. My hand curled in the material of his shirt at the sudden movement. He hushed me, and he ran fingers through my hair. "I'm taking you back to your room, okay?" 

"Mhm."

Thoughts ran around in my head, but it made me too nauseous to focus on them for long. So when Dad sat me on my bed and eased me into laying down, I didn't think too much of it. Nor did I think much as he tried to pull a blanket over me. No. No, I lurched up and weaseled my way under his arm. The bed dipped down when Dad sat. I leaned into him. He didn't react. 

Frowning, I pressed more of my weight against him. His arm tightened around my shoulders. My eyes fluttered closed and the tension slipped from my shoulders. Everything vanished as I slipped into sleep. Flashes of images, feelings, sounds. Terror.

I jolted awake, panting, clawing at the bindings around me. Soon though, a gentle hand in my hair and a heartbeat against my palm calmed me. Dad's thumb brushed over the back of my hand. Whispers fell from his lips, words flowing around me, seeming to swirl like they were trapped in a whirlpool. He told me I was safe. I didn't believe him. There was too much. Anxiety buzzed in my bones, burning and begging me to move. I couldn't, so I closed my eyes. 

If I died, hopefully it would be in my sleep. Dad gently shook me, keeping me from slipping back off. A groan fell out past my lips.

"Can you try to eat something for me?" he asked, voice low. I blinked, shifted. I didn't-- I didn't think I could eat anything, but he wanted me to try, and I could do that at the very least. Reaching a hand out from under the fluffy blanket, I waited. Dad dropped oyster crackers into my palm. Grimacing, one went into my mouth. Keeping it down would be up to luck. Sea green eyes drilled into me until I ate all of them. "You think you can drink something?"

"No."

"You should."

I didn't offer a response. Sighing, Dad waved his hand. The motion left papers on the nightstand. With one hand, he rubbed my back in soft soothing motions. His attention was no longer on me, instead held enraptured by the paper. Pressure in my throat, bile slowly rose. My heartbeat fluttered against my ribs like a hummingbird in a cage. My breathing, short and choppy, was a dead give-away. I glanced at Dad. His attention was still on the paper. 

 I shoved the corner of the blanket in my mouth, chewing on it as much as I could without drawing attention. It wasn't a sure fire solution, but it was better than nothing. All I could do was tell myself that-- A tug and I yelped. The blanket fell from my now open mouth. Dad said nothing, even as I stared at him, waiting for him to yell. Rough cloth was shoved into my hand. A washrag. Hesitant, I shoved the edge in my mouth and started to chew on it. Still, the silence remained.

A new blanket replaced the one I had been chewing, and I didn't have the strength to protest as Dad guided me back to the mattress. He hummed, a small smile on his face, and he tucked stuffed animals around me. Where they came from, I had no idea. But I wrapped my arms around one, a fluffy rabbit, anyway. I pressed my head to Dad's leg, and I whined. Dad's fingers edged into my hair, rubbing against my scalp. 

"There once was a King of Long-Trellis named Giannone, who, desiring greatly to have children, continually made prayers to us that we would grant his wish--"

As he told the story, and as time went on, my eyes slipped closed. Warm and safe. With that echoing through my head, I snuggled closer to Dad, arms closing tighter around the bunny. Droplets of water slid down my cheeks. They were wiped away almost as fast as they appeared. I sniffled. 

"Hush now," soothed Dad. He returned to telling the story. My interest was lost half-way through as I dozed. All I could focus on was the warmth he radiated, on the warmth from me, on the heat that seemed to overtake me while competing with chills. I slipped the rag from my mouth. 

"Can I have some water?"

A bottle pressed to my lips. Cool water slid down my throat, alleviating a small amount of discomfort. I sighed and returned the rag to my mouth. Throwing up would be bad. The only thing that really ever helped afterwards was laying in water, and how was I supposed to do that now? Not to mention that Dad wouldn't like that. My thoughts kept me occupied, even though my eyes were closed. Pressure formed behind my eyes, a pounding, pulsing pain. I needed to stop thinking. 

Dad's voice trailed off, and his hand fell away. He kissed my forehead, beard scratching against my skin. "Sleep well," he said, and I drifted off.

Fluff

Now if you excuse me

I am going to do....something

See yah