When The Villain Falls (Depressed! Percy) (Percy Jackson)

Chapter Three

Percy

"You will not do anything of that nature ever again," Paul lectured me as soon as I walked in, of course. I didn't even know that he'd be home. He'd take any chance to give me a good lecture, though. "do you understand, mister? You are grounded until—"

"Woah, woah, woah," I called out his bullshit then and there. "Why the hell do you care? You're the one who said I should be sent to my dad's in the first place! You knocked my mom up. Not me."

"Your mother being pregnant has nothing to do with you running away!"

"Really?" I found that to be new. "Because I thought it had everything to do with it. If your empty head can remember that far back, it's why I left in the first place."

"It shouldn't be why you left."

"And why not?"

"Because you should be excited," his reasoning was a lot of bullshit. "You're going to be a big brother, Percy! Isn't that cool? That's why the attitude needs to drop. We don't need another kid with your attitude."

I just looked at him, slightly insulted. Okay, very insulted. Just slightly more than usual.

"Wow," I added on sarcastically. "I never wanted to be a big brother, Paul! Did you ever consider that?"

"Well not everything is about you!" He started to yell, which is when Mom came downstairs. She must've not heard the door close when I got here. "Gods! Do you ever stop to think about somebody else? Can you not be selfish for 30 seconds!? Your mom—"

"Busts her ass off, I'm well a fucking ware," I finished his sentence, unaware that my mom was actually down here. Able to hear and see everything. "For me, I get it. I'm greatful for my mom, just not you."

"I'm sorry," he said, but not like he was going to actually apologize. "But you're going to take back what you said."

"Or what?"

"You live under my house," he started to move in closer, and I got the Gabe vibe from him. Which wasn't okay. "You're going to listen to my rules, and respect me."

"I—"

He backhanded me. Right across the face.

"Not. Another. Word." Paul snarled at me as he also glared. I found his limit. "Not from you. Go to your room. If I even hear a hum of your shitty ass music, you can wish your iPod bye bye."

So I went upstairs. Passing my mom, I expected she'd be there in ten minutes tops. Talk to Paul, listen to his brainwash, and then either call me down or come up and yell at me.

I was able to finish another drawing and joint before she got up here. 90 minutes later.

"Hey, kiddo," my mom said as she knocked on my open door. Which she opened just now. I looked of to her being I had been laying down on my side on my bed. Not facing her. "Can I come in?"

"I mean, you're already in," I pointed out, putting my phone in sleep mode. "So I guess so. You sure you don't want to spend more time with your amazing husband?"

"Percy, I'm sorry he hit you." Of course she didn't think it was a big deal. He hit me, no biggie. "But I talked to him and he said he'd try harder. But he is right—"

I groaned, which caused her to stop.

"You need to stop this," she insisted, without having any idea as to why it was there in the first place. "Seriously, Percy. I understand that you don't like Paul, but you have to give him a chance."

"I gave him plenty of chances," I assured my mother, not in the mood. Then again, I'm never in the mood. It just happens. "He's ruined them all. Maybe tell him to give me a chance."

"He's trying to help you, Percy—"

"No!" I got worked up and started to yell again. But not like being mean. Just kind of emotional. "He's not, Mom! All he's doing is jumping on every chance to yell at me and lecture me!"

"He thinks you need more discipline."

"I was just fine without it."

"Percy, listen." Even she got more stern with me. "You've made it clear that you don't want anything to do with your step-dad. But I'm not going to break up with him and kick him out just because you don't like him. Paul has gone through some hard times. Give him a break. He's trying to help us out with everything he can. To help fix us after what Gabe did to us. Paul can—"

And I didn't care what she thought. She's my mom, and I love her. But it just annoyed the shit out of me. And I heard footsteps. Paul was listening. This was the one time I wasn't mad about it. It was about him.

"Paul, Paul, Paul," I snapped at my mom, which shocked her as much as me. "Would you just shut up? That's the only thing you talk about anymore. If you're not talking about it and you're not with him, you're talking about how bad I've gotten. If that's all you want to talk about, your shitty husband who slapped me after telling you he'd try harder, whatever that means, then just shut up. I'm tired of hearing about how amazing he is and how everything has to be about him. Okay? I don't want to hear it."

That's been sitting there for two years. Just burning away at me, wanting to come out more than anything. And it finally did. And I felt like a shitty son. For talking to my mom like that.

She's right, I am a shitty son. But it's not like I ever had much to look up to. I mean, I did when I was younger. But once Gabe started drinking, I just never really had anything to model myself after.

"Percy—"

I crossed my arms as I sat on my bed, not looking at her. I didn't trust myself.

"I don't want to hear it, Mom."

She got the idea and left. Part of me wanted her to stay. Part of me just wanted to be alone.

And I was left alone longer than I really wanted to be. She didn't even go near my room until dinner. Even then, she called from downstairs for both Paul and myself.

It was a silent meal, aside asking to pass something or excusing yourself. And as much as I appreciated not being yelled at and pegged at like I always am...

They looked at me like I was a lost puppy. That's why I never said anything. I knew they wouldn't take it how it was intended. To show them that I was still here. My mom hasn't lost me yet. I lost her.

It was weird, and I finished my food as soon as I could. Heading upstairs, I thought that maybe somebody would respond. The first, and only, person I actually texted was Grover. I hadn't texted him in over six months. He didn't respond that time. Or the time before. Or the time before that.

We haven't talked to each other in like a year. A little longer, actually. It was July when we stopped talking, and September started a few days ago.

My Main Man 🌊: Hey Grover, you there?
My Main Man 🌊: Seriously dude
My Main Man 🌊: please
My Main Man 🌊: I really need to talk, g-man. Like, really bad.
My Main Man 🌊: sorry, I shouldn't assume I can still call you that
My Main Man 🌊: Somebody's reading these. I'm not dumb. I mean, I kind of am sometimes. But I can see that you're reading this.
My Main Man 🌊: I'm just going to keep texting you
My Main Man 🌊: Grover
My Main Man 🌊: Grover
My Main Man 🌊: Grover
My Main Man 🌊: Grover
My Main Man 🌊: Grover
My Main Man 🌊: Grover
My Main Man 🌊: Or not. I get it.
My Main Man 🌊: I'll leave you be, you obviously have better things to do than to bother with me.
My Main Man 🌊: Sorry that I had to bother you.