beloved daughter of the sea

a mother's downfall

i should probably update the othe fic before posting another but the insparation was too much lol, enjoy.

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Percy clamped his hands over his head, his fingers digging into his scalp as if trying to hold his mind together. His voice cracked and strained as he yelled through the shimmering rainbow, "I CAN'T DO IT!" The words wavered, slightly warped by the magical connection of the Iris message, but the raw panic threading through his tone was unmistakable.

You couldn't help but laugh, though the sound was more incredulous than amused, the absurdity of the situation tugging at your lips in spite of the tension. "I CAN'T EITHER!" you shouted back, your voice rising in shared frustration. The chaotic, ever-twisting path you and Percy seemed destined to stumble along had led you into yet another sticky situation. But that was okay. Despite every trial thrown your way, you'd always managed to pull through, and this time wouldn't be any different. It couldn't be.

At that moment, you were engaged in an Iris call with Percy—a unique form of communication reserved for demigods since regular cell phones acted like beacons for monsters. The shimmering, ethereal rainbow bridged the vast distance between you, casting an otherworldly glow around the room. Percy had called you in a state of utter desperation, his usual composure shattered after a certain someone had unexpectedly waltzed into his life, turning everything upside down. Knowing Percy as well as you did, you quickly roped Annabeth, his girlfriend and the ever-resourceful daughter of Athena, into the call. You figured you'd need all the help you could get to talk him off the ledge, his panic threatening to spiral out of control.

You pitied your younger brother deeply, your heart aching for the burdens he carried. He had endured more than any demigod should ever have to face. From the tender age of twelve, he had been thrust into one perilous situation after another—from saving his mother from the clutches of a death god to battling a war god in mortal combat. By the time he was seventeen, he had saved the world twice over. It seemed the Fates were relentless in their cruelty, denying him even the briefest respite, the peace that he so desperately deserved.

"I CAN'T DO IT ANYMORE, BIG SIS! HELP ME!" Percy's voice broke, the words tumbling out in a desperate plea as his panic surged through the magical connection. The depth of his despair was palpable, echoing in your own chest like a dull ache.

Annabeth, ever the calm and collected strategist, rubbed her temples in frustration. Her patience was wearing thin, her voice laced with exasperation as she tried to reel Percy back in. "WELL, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW OR FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US."

Percy took a deep, shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "I appreciate it," he began, his voice wavering, but then the floodgates burst. "BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH!" He gestured wildly, his movements frantic as he pointed to the scruffy boy lounging behind him. The boy watched the scene with wide, amused eyes, his hand paused mid-dip into a bowl of seven-layer dip, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he had stirred.

The silence that followed was thick, weighted with disbelief and an undercurrent of tension. No one knew what to say. The situation had gone beyond the point of rational discussion, leaving you all teetering on the edge of absurdity. You wanted to offer words of support, but even Annabeth seemed at a loss for once. "Percy—"

"YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE!" Percy cut in, his voice rising with a mixture of frustration and anger, his face flushed a furious shade of red.

You knew you had to step in before he pushed himself over the edge. "Percy, we gotta—"

"YOU GOTTA DRAW A LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT." His voice grew louder, more resolute, as if the act of shouting could somehow anchor him in the storm of emotions threatening to sweep him away. He paused to pull a ridiculous face, his eyes wide with exaggerated determination, "—'What am I willing to put up with in my life?'"