The Calm After the Storm (Fem. Percy)

Chapter 4

I ground my teeth into my lip as I stood outside the office door. Well, it wasn't a door, just an empty space where a door would eventually go once the palace was repaired and rebuilt. Dad was inside discussing things--stuff I did my best to tune out because I didn't want to think about what it meant--with his generals.

Bothering him was out of the question. It was important. More important than me, but every time I thought about moving away, I'd feel his fingers around my wrist and remember the expression he'd had when he told me not to hurt myself. And I knew, if I left, I'd be doing my best to.

The curse kept it from injuring me, of course.

No matter how hard I dug my nails into my arms, they'd never break the skin. I wouldn't bleed. The small of my back buzzed in mockery; the only place where pain would last, but the very place that would kill me and leave me-- My nails bit deeper, and I shuffled into the room.

Dad's back was to me, but none of the generals said a word. Delphin only smiled. A cyclops narrowed his eye. Then my arms were around my dad. He paused mid-sentence, looked down, and pried me away with one hand.

"I'm busy, Percy." It wasn't unkind. There wasn't bite to it or heat. None of what filled Mr. D's voice whenever he was furious but holding himself back from transforming us into different things. Why did it make my heart twist and my arms burn then?

I reached out again and grabbed at his shirt. Pressure built behind my right eye, the stirrings of a headache. Words weren't coming out of my mouth. Oh gods. Not now. I tried to snatch my hands away and run--retreat to the space on the bed I'd been given and burrow until things lessened. I'd burrow and scratch my arms, wanting to bleed, wanting to feel something deeper than faint sensations on my skin. Maybe I'd bury my teeth in my arm, maybe I'd hit my head, pull my hair.

"Daddy," I mouthed. Fuck. I couldn't even say that. Useless little fucking---

"What is it?" Dad asked, cutting my spiral short. His large frame moved. Suddenly, I was staring at his face. The generals' eyes crawled over my skin. I wished I could hide away, but I came here knowing what was going on. Still, I couldn't help but stare at them too. Prey instinct, I guessed. A couple of them would kill me if they weren't allied with the gods. I was like a deer staring at a predator to tell it 'you can't surprise me.' Dad glanced over his shoulder and moved again, shielding me from view.

"Percy."

My throat bobbed. It was dry despite the water I breathed. Just a few words, Jackson. That's all.

"Want..." 'to' came out weird, wrong. "hurt ...mh-myh...my--"

He pulled me close and tucked me to his side. No questions. No mocking me for not being able to speak. Warmth washed through my body and seeped into my fingertips and toes. The sea scent was stronger against him, and it was the only thing I could smell once I pressed my face into his shirt. Daddy, the back part of my mind sang. I stuffed it down. The pressure behind my eyes worsened.

Stop being a baby, I scolded myself, even as Dad gently rubbed the back of my neck. My hand fluttered. It would've flapped but I had self-awareness to nip that in the bud. Unfortunately, that motion was too much. Dad sighed, spoke his wife's name, and I was handed off.

"Here you go," she said, placing down a sandwich. I prodded at it but made no move to take a bite. "Your father wants you to eat before he gets home."

Frowning, I pushed the plate away. I wasn't hungry. I was tired, but I wouldn't be able to sleep for a while yet. The two days I'd been here, sleep only came when I was curled in bed with Dad beside me, or when I was too tired and fell asleep on the couch with Amphitrite nearby. Neither of those times had the sheer anxiety of messing up badly enough to be sent away.

Not all of the demigods flapped their hands or flinched at loud noises or would be unable to speak. It was a weakness we were supposed to overcome, though no one complained when I was able to sit at watch for hours or pick up slight sounds---though that was always attributed to the empathy link with Grover.

"Do you want me to do your hair?" Amphitrite asked eventually. A brush appeared in her hand.

I lifted my hand and carded my fingers through the black strands, only to stop when I found knot after knot. How did it get so bad so fast? Was it from not braiding it? Or was it from being undersea and having currents to muss it up? I nodded.

"Lean forward." There was a laugh in there somewhere, but I did as she asks, only to end up leaning back into the touch moments later. It felt good. Mom hadn't brushed my hair for me in ages. "Oh, your hair is so pretty, isn't it? I bet it looks like your father's when you're on land."

She chattered away aimlessly, and my eyelids grew increasingly heavier. I slumped forward on the table. A little nap wouldn't hurt anything. All she was doing was sectioning out my hair for braids anyway.

"How did it go?"

"Good enough," Dad said. He paused and leaned down to kiss my head on the way to the bedroom. "I'm going to change. Do you want to sleep in this tonight?"

Amphitrite didn't answer, which was rude, but I wasn't going to call her out on it even if I could.

Once the bedroom door latched, she asked me, "Do you want your father to do your hair?"

I did, but I wouldn't bother him with it. I didn't want to seem needy, so I ignored her and pretended to sleep.

Boom! Chapter!

I hope you like this one, and I am tempted to write a universe swap between this and why is everything so loud at some point because both Poseidon's would be very confused

See yah