Under the Water(Fem. Percy)

Chapter 33

"Traitor," he hisses.

My hands scramble for purchase against Christopher's armor. Blood seeps around the knife.

"Dad!" I scream. It cuts through the chatter. Echoes off the walls. Everything goes silent. It hurts. It hurts. And Dad isn't going to do--He's not going to do anything because he wants this to happen.

Christopher shoves me down and darts away. Which way is he--

I can't get my feet beneath me; each attempt leaves me slumped against the cold floor. The water around me is pink. My ears ring, and the water feels so much colder. People rush away. Masks litter the ground. Feet crash down beside my head and arms and hands. I lay still. Maybe if I don't move Dad'll think I'm dead, and he won't finish me off himself.

And for a brief second of full clarity--when the pain ebbs away a little bit-- I can think 'what are they running from.'

Dark coils wrap around me, and Dad's talons click against the colorful floor. He whines and coos, so similar to how he had before. I scrunch my face. He's worried. Upset? Not angry. But not an emotion I'm expecting.

I whimper and spasm. More blood swirls up through salt water; Dad's frill fans full before jerking down again. He nudges me. Worry. It's worry that's radiating from him, and his panic grows as he inhales bloodied water. It earns a low, dangerous growl. I flinch. He switches to a soft trill. Baby's safe, it seems to say. I can protect you.

Dad rubs at his face, claws gouging into smaller scales.

My vision goes black.

"--ou need to chill, or she's going to die," Triton snaps. I groan and peer at him through barely-open eyes.

"Maybe my funeral will be real for once."

"Pass back out if you're not going to be helpful." He presses down harder. I wince. "I can't heal you, and he's too worked up to do it." Dad, as if summoned, tries to push his head against me. "Stop trying to clean it, you stupid snake." Triton swats Dad's head away. My laughter cuts off as pain surges through my chest.

"Why is he?" Nausea forces down the rest of the question, and I groan.

"You're his baby. The smallest, most vulnerable member of his nest." Triton gently peels my shirt off. I try to cover my chest but he swats my arm away. "It's a miracle he's keeping this much control over himself. Oye, I'm her brother!" Triton hisses, scales spreading up his arms; Dad's fangs are snapped around Triton's shirt as he tries to pull him away. "Mine. Mine, just as much as she's yours."

"That doesn't look like control." Oh, this will suck. I replace the pressure on the wound to force a pained whimper through my lips. Shit. Shit. Tears mix with the water. My nails dig in. Why does it burn? It shouldn't...

Dad freezes, and his big frantic eyes focus on me.

Triton tears his collar free and tumbles through the water. He darts down to me, and bundles my shirt against my chest. "Just... talk to him. Stay awake."

It's easier to say than do. My words slur. My throat tightens. My hand falls limp. My eyes flutter shut. Just one minute to rest my eyes will be fine. Just one. 

Just...

* * *

Everything hurts. My arms. My legs. My limbs all feel the same way as when I wake up from sleeping too long: gross, icky, and like they aren't mine. I groan and shift. A blanket or a pillow presses uncomfortable into my rib cage, which is weird because I don't remember falling asleep. But the water passing through my lips means I'm still in Dad's palace. He probably carried me to bed.