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

Common Symptoms Include Confusion

Needless to say, I didn't go to Triton. There was something that felt off about sneaking into his room in the middle of the night just to curl next to him. I wasn't a child--no matter how much Dad insisted on treating me like one. I'd fought in wars; I could survive a couple hours by myself.

I, unfortunately, discovered that that wasn't as true as I'd thought. The palace was still a maze and without my dad or Triton around to guide me, I wandered in endless loops, stumbling along the floor and running into decorations. I was hoping Dad wouldn't notice the multitude of amphora I broke, when my stomach growled.

My arms reflexively wrapped around my middle. It'd been a while since I felt hungry, so the sensation was startling at first.

"Fuck."

How did I get to the kitchen from here? I looked around. Nothing was familiar, and everything had the same blue green tones as every other hallway. Annabeth really needed to-- I bit my hand. Come on, Jackson. There hadn't been a slip up like that for a while.

Annabeth was dead. She wasn't coming back, unless I wanted to fight Hades again. Make a deal. Sell my soul. She'd be doing so much better than me, and that thought alone was almost enough to make me do it. No one would blame her for not doing enough, and her pride wouldn't let people walk over her.

She was always better than me like that.

Triton's aura lurked nearby, lazy like Dad's was when he was asleep. I hadn't questioned what was allowing me to pick up on it now, and frankly, I wasn't about to start. When the gods were involved, it was better to not be too curious because that was how you discovered things like: "hey, I was carrying the skin of my dead brother and we hung it in a tree." However, not questioning something didn't mean not taking advantage of it, and I tugged at one of the strands.

It was slimy and wiggly, like an octopus's tentacle, and nope, I was never using my hands to do that again. It wrapped around me without any of that oddness. Love. Contentment. There was an undercurrent too, baby, sister, mine.

I kept walking with it around my shoulders like a shawl.

I was still walking hours later, but not out of an urge to. No matter which way I turned, I couldn't find anything I recognized, and when I occasionally did, I made a wrong turn and ended up deeper in the bowels of the palace. The hunger had long since dulled to a clawing ache. Dad wouldn't be--

Arms wrapped around me, pulling me back to a firm chest. "What are you doing, little one?" I blinked up at Dad, entirely unsurprised. His sudden appearances were becoming less sudden and more expected. He was smiling, soft, warm. His eyebrow quirked up. "You should be resting."

When I didn't answer, he frowned. "Percy?"

I mumbled and turned, before trying to push further against him. My hands didn't want to cooperate, and I fumbled before finally grasping at his shirt.

"What were you doing?"

What had I been doing? Walking, but there had been something I was trying to do before that. "Dunno."

"I'm not going to be upset with you." His hand slipped to my wrist. His thumb slid along the bandages. "You can tell me."

"I was--- um. I dunno, Daddy."

Half a purr rumbled in his chest. He pressed his head to mine, intermittently kissing my hair and whispering loving words. I slotted into a hollow in his presence--enveloped, not absorbed. Free to rest, and I took that offer gladly.