Work Text:
Paul didn’t know exactly how he was meant to handle learning that Greek mythology was real, his fiancee had a previous relationship with a major Greek God, and that his soon-to-be stepson was a demigod, but all things considered, he thought he handled it relatively well. The strangest bit might actually have been that the slightest part of him looked at Percy afterwards and thought, Yeah, that explains it .
Paul didn’t want to use the word intimidating to describe Percy, per say, but Paul had spent a lot of his relationship with Sally being intimated by Percy for a number of reasons. One, within his first conversation with Sally, Paul knew exactly where any romantic partner would fall on Sally’s list of loved ones and that was squarely below her son. Absolutely fair enough, but that did mean Paul spent those early days before meeting the kid knowing that one wrong move, one bad vibe with this kid, and he had the power to end the whole relationship. And that was before the there’s something you should know about Percy talk.
Well… the FIRST there’s something you should know about Percy talk.
Percy was going to be coming back from his time at his camp ( It’s usually a summer camp but, um, they have some year long activities available and Percy thought going to camp over winter break would be… fun. ) and Sally invited him over for some coffee. She was nervous, saying that he and Percy should probably meet now that Percy knew about the two of them and was coming home. Paul was terrified, but also excited. He wanted to meet this kid who meant so much to Sally, who’d had a rough childhood with Sally’s terrible ex who she didn’t say much about, but enough to make Paul hate him.
Then Sally grimaced. “There’s something you should know before you meet Percy.”
And it was a doozy. Or so Paul thought at the time.
Apparently, Percy had quite a number of expulsions under his belt. In fact, he hadn’t managed to repeat a single school. Sally gave a couple of examples ( a canon? Really?) , but all the while kept peppering in, “He’s really a good kid. I promise you he’s a good kid he just…” She would stop herself and bite her lip and finish with something like, “He’s just had a bad run.” She explained the ADHD, the dyslexia, gave some rough home life implications that, while still vague, only made Paul more furious at Sally’s ex.
And then of course there was the whole fact that Percy had been kidnapped when he was twelve, a story Sally very carefully danced around, but warned that there was certainly some very unflattering news coverage on the internet.
Sally also very purposefully spent the rest of the evening going through what was clearly Percy’s Greatest Hits — every kind and thoughtful thing he had ever done for Sally or someone else.
It was a lot to take in, though. And it made him unsure as to what to expect.
Sure enough the time came and Paul came over to have dinner with Sally and Percy, who had come back from camp a few days prior in order to begin his semester at school. Before the door opened, Paul heard a young voice shouting, “Yeah, I’ll grab the—”
The door opened and a dark haired kid blinked at him. Paul stammered out, “Uh, hi.”
“Not the food,” Percy responded, like he couldn’t help himself. He was still blinking owlishly at Paul and then all of a sudden there was a shift. Percy’s spine seemed to straighten and his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, nothing about it was inherently threatening, but Paul got the impression that he now had absolutely all of Percy’s attention as the young kid looked him over with green eyes that seemed a little too weary for his age. And was that… gray in his hair? A fad?
Whatever Percy was looking for he either found it or didn’t and Paul seemed to pass the first test. Percy’s lips curled up into an easy, if not a bit awkward, smile. “Uh, Paul. Hi, sorry. I thought you were the delivery. Um, come inside.” Percy stepped back to let him in, his eyes following Paul as he moved.
Sally came rushing out of the kitchen. “Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry, I managed to burn just— everything. I ordered chinese, I hope that’s okay?”
They had had chinese take out during their first date. Paul smiled. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
Sally breathed a sigh of relief, even if her eyes nervously flicked from Percy to Paul. “I suppose I’ll just go finish cleaning up my kitchen disaster and I’ll… be back in a minute?”
Percy rolled his eyes. “I promise not to draw a weapon on him, Mom. I’ll behave.”
There was some hidden little smirk between the two, like there was a joke Paul wasn’t getting in Percy’s words, and Paul couldn’t help but wonder how many times Percy had drawn a weapon.
Quite a lot, he would learn in a few months.
Sally went back to the kitchen and Percy sighed. “She’s nervous,” Percy explained. “We haven’t, uh, done this before.”
Right. Because Sally had married her previous husband when Percy was still so young and Paul was her first boyfriend since. What could Paul say to put Percy at ease? “Must be weird,” he landed on.
“Weird,” Percy considered, “is definitely a word to describe our family.”
Paul remembered going home that night feeling like he’d scored a victory. Percy had been exactly the kind, considerate, and, yes, snarky teen that Sally had described. A good kid with a bad run, Paul could see it. He thought he had passed the Percy Test.
Not even close.
The next test came as Sally began looking into what high schools would overlook Percy’s record and Paul, seeing a golden opportunity to win some major points with the Jacksons, got Percy a spot at his school. Both Sally and Percy looked a little uneasy at the idea, but seemed to come to the general conclusion that they shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
What could go wrong? Paul had idiotically thought.
And then Percy had blown up the band room.
A red headed freshman, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, emphatically exclaimed that nothing about the incident was Percy’s fault and, apparently, Ms. Dare’s father was a major donor to the school and so her word carried a lot of weight. Even that almost hadn’t been enough, though, until one of Percy’s camp directors came to speak with the principal on Percy’s behalf. Paul didn’t know what was said, but afterwards Percy was allowed to enroll without so much as a blemish on his record.
Paul was glad because he was certain now he had seen that Kelli cheerleader start the fight and the fire. Why had he ever thought Percy was responsible?
Of course, the real notable part of that time period had happened in between Percy (not?) blowing up the band room and being allowed to enroll anyways.
“What do they mean he’s missing?” Paul asked a heartbroken Sally.
Sally opened her mouth over and over, like she kept trying to find words, but just couldn’t, until she just shook her head and cried into his shoulder. “Is there something we can do? Can we talk to the police?”
No, there wasn’t, she eventually told him. And no, camp would handle it.
Paul couldn’t possibly understand how this was an internal matter and why there wasn’t more to the story, but Paul got the idea that there was more to the story, she just wasn’t telling him . Until finally— “He’s okay,” Sally told him over the phone two weeks later.
“What? Where— what happened?”
A long pause. “He’s back at camp. He just got a little lost.”
“ For two weeks? ”
He didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but, come on. And a lesser man might have ended the relationship right there, Sally certainly seemed to be bracing herself for it, but Paul couldn’t do it, not when his primary thought was just oh thank God that kid is okay .
Even back then he knew there was a lot about Percy he didn’t know. And yet, even then he could tell Percy was possibly one of the kids most deserving of a break that Paul had ever met.
And then Percy was back from camp again and if possible he looked even more tired than he had after coming back in the winter. Paul was tempted to ask, Is this camp even fun? Why do you always come back looking so tired? But it was Percy’s fifteenth birthday and he didn’t want to ruin the mood. Paul didn’t know if he had ever seen Sally looking so happy and it seemed like every time she looked at Percy she thought it was a miracle he had made it this far.
And maybe it was. As a high school teacher, Paul had known far too many “troubled kids” who didn’t make it to fifteen themselves.
Besides, Paul had… bigger ideas on his mind.
“You’re asking my permission?” Percy asked incredulously.
Paul scratched his beard. It was a tough line to walk. Paul was trying not to be intimidated by Sally’s son anymore—after all, Paul was an adult—but Percy was incredibly important to Sally, and now Paul too, and so Paul didn’t really know what could happen next if Percy said no. “I don’t know if it’s permission, so much, but she’s your mother. And I know you’re going through a lot. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t talk to you about it first, man to man.”
And once again, like that first day in the doorway, Percy blinked owlishly at him. “Man to man,” Percy repeated, like this was a new concept to him, and for half a second Paul was fiendishly angry at both of Percy’s previous fathers. The one who seemed to neglect him and the one who seemed to have abused him, in one way if not the other.
Percy smiled and relief flooded Paul’s system. “I think that’s a great idea, Paul. Go for it.”
Later that night, Paul spotted Percy whispering with Sally, both of them trying not to be caught glancing at him, and Paul almost wondered if Percy was ruining the surprise to Sally. But… no. No, when Paul proposed, that was sheer surprise on her face.
But something else too. Something that told Paul maybe he didn’t understand what he was getting himself into.
I don’t care , he thought as Sally stared happily at Paul, the ring cold on Paul’s cheek where Sally had his face in her hands.
That something else came for him not one week later when Percy and Sally invited him to dinner. Sally sat at the table with Paul, but Percy stood behind Sally with his arms crossed or even paced behind her, like he couldn’t settle. With his eyebrows pinched and his jaw tense, for a moment Paul thought that Percy was angry and this was it— Paul had done something and Percy had used his executive son power to end it all.
But no. Paul had known Percy for a while now and spent every moment with him doing everything he could to decipher the enigma that was Percy Jackson. This wasn’t anger.
Percy was nervous. Scared even.
“What’s wrong?” Paul asked.
Sally took Paul’s hands in hers. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing. Just.” Sally sighed. “There’s something you need to know about Percy before… well, before this goes any further.”
Further? Paul thought, beginning to panic. Did she not want to marry me anymore?
Sally squeezed his hand. “Honey, this isn’t about any doubts I’m having. I love you. But… it wouldn’t be fair to you if we kept so much of our lives in the dark any longer.”
“Fair to… What’s going on?”
Percy stopped pacing and he and Sally exchanged glances. “How much do you know about Greek mythology?” Percy asked.
Paul leaned back in his chair. That was… unexpected. Instead of puzzling out the reason for the question, he just decided to answer it at face value. “A good amount. I used to teach the subject. What is this about?”
Another glance between the two. This time Sally sighed. “I’m afraid there’s no gentle way to do this—”
“This sure feels a lot more gentle than my introduction,” Percy muttered.
Sally shot him a look and Percy immediately raised his hands in surrender. Back to Paul with a softer expression, she very calmly told him, “Paul, the stories are real. The Greek gods are all real. I know this because the man you met at Percy’s birthday, Poseidon, wasn't just named after the Greek god, he is the Greek god Poseidon. That makes Percy a demigod, which means he lives a dangerous life that can result in disasters like what happened at Goode.”
It was clear there was more to say, but Sally paused at that.
And Paul… just sat there. He looked from Percy to Sally and back again and then one more time. Neither were the type to play this sort of trick or prank, and even if they were, both of the Jacksons looked incredibly nervous in their own way. Sally pursed her lips and struggled to meet Paul’s eyes, while Percy crossed his arms and kept his narrowed eyes trained on Paul’s every movement.
“O…kay,” Paul managed.
“He doesn’t believe us,” Percy surmised right as Sally asked, “You believe us?”
“I… I trust you both. I trust that you wouldn’t play some weird, cruel trick on me, but this… this is a lot to take in. I mean—”
Paul stopped talking right as he heard the sound of the kitchen sink turning on, followed by the sink and shower in the bathroom. “I’d turn on the sprinklers,” Percy casually mentioned, “but we’ve already had to replace the couch once so…”
Sally grimaced. “Right. Percy’s father is Poseidon, so Percy has inherited some… powers from him.” Percy cocked his head and all the water turned off. And—
Paul saw it. Paul saw the too old look in Percy’s eyes, remembered the too capable way Percy always seemed to handle himself, thought back to every time Percy entered a room and seemed to count entrances and exits.
The way Sally acted like reaching fifteen was a miracle for him.
Paul nodded. “Okay,” he said more confidently. “Okay. Take it from the top for me.”
Sally surged forward to grab Paul’s hands again, eyes shining with relief, while Percy’s arms uncrossed and he finally sat down.
And Paul had thought, surely, this is the last test .
There would be one more.
Percy asked Paul to come over one night to help him with English homework, except when Paul walked in Percy was leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed again and no homework to be found.
“Uh, hey, Percy.”
Percy jumped to attention, his hand diving into his pocket where Paul now knew Percy kept his magical weapon at all times, before relaxing. It wasn’t the first time since learning the truth that Paul had seen such an action from the fifteen year old and each time it made him unfathomably sad. The kid had been constantly ready to fight for his life since he was twelve.
“Sorry,” Percy said, shaking his head. “Hi, Paul.”
Paul looked around, again noting no homework. Instead he asked, “Your mom home?”
“No, she has an appointment. She won’t be back for a bit.” Percy sighed and when his eyes closed it looked like he was bracing himself. Then he met Paul’s gaze head on and said, “There’s something you need to know about me.”
And really, Paul thought, this is getting a bit ridiculous. “You mean we haven’t already covered it all?”
Percy’s lip twitched, seeing the humor. “Trust me, I know exactly how you feel. I found out Greek gods are real and that Zeus personally wanted me dead for a crime I didn’t commit pretty much in the same week.”
Right. The master bolt quest. Percy and Sally had decided to leave the Quest Talk, as they called it, for a different night. Paul hadn’t thought he could get anymore overwhelmed or, honestly, so sorry for Percy and then he learned exactly what the gods have been putting him through the past couple of years.
And now Percy was telling him there was more?
“And this is a conversation you wanted to have without your mother?”
Percy’s gaze darkened, all humor gone, as he looked away. “I… I try really hard not to talk about this with my mom. To be honest, I don’t know how much she knows. I know my dad told her the basics when she got pregnant but…” he sighed, and Paul sensed another bandaid ripping moment was ahead of him. “About seventy or whatever years ago, the gods received a prophecy that said the next child of the Big Three—Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades—to reach sixteen would make a decision that would either save or destroy Olympus. Because of that, they made a pact not to have any more children, but of course, they’re bad at keeping their promises.” Percy shot him a dry look. “Hi. That’s where I come in.”
Percy ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further. “The point being, I’m the current front runner. There was a Zeus kid older than me but she’s… out of the picture.” At Paul’s alarmed look, Percy quickly clarified, “Not dead! No, she’s just an immortal Huntress with Artemis now so she won’t ever turn 16.”
“Oh,” Paul said weakly. “Just.”
“Right,” Percy agreed. “And there’s a son of Hades younger than me—” Percy shut his eyes like a flinch. “It won’t be him. I won’t let it. He’s been through enough. So that just leaves me. And Kronos is rising.”
Percy then filled in some of the gaps that Paul had sensed in Percy’s original quest stories. Kronos had manipulated Ares and Luke. Kronos had been why Luke wanted the golden fleece. Kronos was why Percy had to save Bessie the ocean cow. Kronos was what had happened to Luke in the labyrinth.
“He’s out there,” Percy said, a look far too old and dark on his face. “And this coming summer, right around my sixteenth birthday, he’s going to march on Manhattan and I’ll be expected to lead the forces against him and fight him myself.”
Paul staggered back until the fridge behind him was pretty much the only thing keeping him upright. Percy looked at him sympathetically, and that only made Paul feel worse. Percy was fifteen, telling him that he’d be going to war before he turned sixteen, and Percy felt bad for Paul?
Paul almost asked Why Manhattan? until he remembered Oh, right, because that’s where Olympus is now. Duh.
Instead, Paul said numbly, “You’re talking about war. What kind of war?”
“The kind where, if we lose, everything you know ends.”
Paul had a feeling it was a lot worse than that and Percy was sparing him the gory details. So terribly weakly, Paul asked Percy, “The gods can’t actually expect a kid to fight a war for them, right?”
Percy looked away. “I’m not done.”
Oh, God. Or, rather, gods .
“This is… a lot,” Percy prefaced. “And I’m sorry. Like I said, my mom and I don’t really talk about it. I don’t like scaring her even though avoiding it entirely is impossible. But she…”
For a moment, Percy’s voice shook and his eyes looked so scared and for one tiny, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it-moment, Percy looked like the terrified kid he should be. And then the moment passed and Percy’s eyes were steady, his back straight, his arms crossed. It was like Paul had watched him become the demigod leader in real time.
“Look, I haven’t heard the prophecy everyone’s always going on about. They won’t tell it to me until it’s time, or whatever. So I don’t know exactly what it says, but I know people who do, smart people that I trust and—”
Another moment to brace himself and this time, Paul followed suit.
Percy, with tired eyes one thousand years too old, looked at Paul and said, “I haven’t exactly been given the impression that I’m expected to survive my birthday.”
And what could Paul possibly say to that?
But Percy seemed to think that the hard part was over and now he was babbling, “And I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to put on you so soon, but it’s also why I’m really glad you're here, Paul. I mean, believe me, plenty in my world has tried to kill me and I’m still here, so I’m not easy prey. Whatever is going to happen next summer, I’m not going down easy and if I have any say in it then I’m not going down at all. But… there’s been a lot of dangerous bits about my life I’ve pretty much had no say in. And Kronos— Kronos isn’t like anything I’ve fought before. He’s older, meaner, and so, so much stronger. And that’s before we even go into the army he has spent years amassing.”
Percy’s eyes were wide and desperate. “I don’t know what’s going to happen except that I have to win. No matter what, I have to win.”
Like the ignorant mortal he was— Is there something we can do? Can we talk to the police? —Paul asked, “Can we help somehow?”
“This isn’t a fight for mortals. But there’s something you can do for me.”
And ah. Here it was. The real reason they were having this conversation away from Sally.
Percy took a step forward, closer to Paul. “I need you to look after my mom. I can’t—” The terrified boy threatened to make a resurgence for a brief moment and Paul watched the soldier bury him down deep. “I don’t want to leave her alone. It’s always been just the two of us. I mean there was Gabe but—” Percy grimaced and said his name like his old stepfather counted as less than human. “It’s just been us two,” Percy repeated. Barely a whisper, “I don’t want to leave her alone.”
Paul wanted nothing more than to break down in tears, pull the kid into his arms, and take him far, far away. But the thing was, this wasn’t his first secret discussion Paul had had since the big Greek Gods Are Real talk.
The next day Sally had convinced Paul to take off work so the two of them could talk and Paul could reorient himself to his new reality. They went out to dinner and Sally began her own conversation away from Percy.
“He’s not a regular kid,” Sally explained, struggling to keep tears from falling. “I mean he is , but… Last winter, when he was at camp, one of his friends got taken and he wasn’t allowed to go look for her. Percy had called me to tell me everything and every fiber in my being wanted to tell him Yes, baby, come home. Let someone else take care of it. Stay safe. Stay with me , but… I’ve put Percy in enough dangerous situations in the name of keeping him safe and when it comes to demigods… Percy’s reached the age where his world will treat him like an adult. They will expect adult things from him. Responsibility. Leadership. Violence. None of it is fair, but there is nothing I can do, but be there for him when he comes home.”
“What happened when Percy went missing this summer?” Paul had asked.
Sally wiped away the lone tear that had fallen while she struggled to hold her composure with a weak smile. “We’ll tell you the whole story another night but… He was on a quest and he got into a fight. Him and his friend were in danger and he needed to get her out of there, but he— didn’t make it. There was an explosion. Camp did everything they could but eventually they had to assume that—”
Paul grabbed Sally’s hand to tell her she didn’t need to finish that sentence and Sally looked at him gratefully.
“That’s something I have to live with,” Sally told him, her voice rough and shaky. “One day my boy might not come home. Maybe it’ll be during a quest, maybe it’ll be because something attacks him at school. Because of his father, Percy will never be safe. And that’s a lot to handle.”
Paul wracked his mind for anything comforting to say. He told her, “You don’t have to go through that alone anymore.”
Sally had never looked more grateful even if she burst into tears.
So, standing in the kitchen with Sally’s son doing his absolute best to look the part of the soldier and not the child, Paul offered him the same promise. “I won’t leave her alone.”
Percy’s hard expression cracked, his lips quivering, but he didn’t break.
Not, at least, until Paul opened his arms and Percy, after only a moment of hesitation, rushed into them, sobbing into his shoulder. At times Percy muttered something, but largely Paul couldn’t make it out. Except for one phrase—
I don’t want to die.
The following year is… rough. At times it’s normal and other times it’s like all three of them can hear the ticking clock. Percy seems to become more and more reluctant to spend time with camp, hanging out increasingly with Ms. Dare. He gets a bit more rebellious and somehow even more considerate. It’s an odd mix of Percy sneaking out at night and staying out past his weakly enforced curfew and cleaning the house and making them dinner unprompted.
The kid was doing his best to live as much as he can while leaving as much love behind as possible.
When Percy left for camp that summer, it's a somber affair, though Percy sat in the back seat and tried to crack jokes about how Percy arriving at camp was usually a much more hurried and violent affair. They didn’t talk about the war, the same way they didn’t talk about the way they all became sullen as the rest of New York celebrated the end of the winter months, but Sally hugged her son tight before telling him to be safe (they also don’t talk about how her voice cracked).
Percy, for the first time, came back from camp sporadically over the summer. “What’s wrong?” Sally asks her son.
Percy’s eyes are so tired as he shrugged, “I just need a break from camp. Is that okay?”
Sally kissed his forehead. “It’s always okay.”
Paul began teaching Percy to drive and makes a comment about Percy getting his license, only for the kid's eyes to darken. When Paul stumbles over his next words, Percy offers him an out, asking questions about buttons on the dashboard.
And then one day Paul’s car comes back dented without Percy. “I think it’s starting,” Rachel says.
Days later, Paul was waking up in his car with Sally. When they got out, Paul’s vision was a bit blurry—were those historical re-enactment actors? But then Paul say Sally’s face and knew from her terror she was seeing something else, which was only made more clear when he saw Percy, baseball bat he’s been repeatedly told is actually a sword in hand, looking scraped and dirty and just as terrified.
Intimidating figures started marching towards Sally and him and Paul glanced down to see a baseball bat at his feet. Was it possible…? He didn’t let himself over think it. He grabbed it and swung at the woman closing in on him. The woman vanished.
“Paul?” Percy asked in amazement.
Paul did his best to smile despite his nerves. “I hope that was a monster I just killed.”
It didn’t seem like things got better from there but the scary part was when things got… quiet. Paul couldn’t be certain, but it seemed like the chaos was over. Everyone was waking up, Paul’s semi-blurry and headache inducing vision was gone. The battle seemed done.
For a while, they stayed on the street by the Empire State Building, Sally emphatic that they had to wait for Percy’s signal — that he was safe, but after the quiet of the battle faded, a new chaos rose. Mortals were awake, the city was damaged, and no one knew what had happened. Paul nearly had to drag Sally back to their apartment.
When they got him, Sally stayed on the fire escape, looking out to Olympus and only then did Paul realize exactly what day it was today.
I haven’t exactly been given the impression that I’m expected to survive my birthday.
One day my boy might not come home.
Paul had thought the two weeks Percy had been missing were terrible? They were nothing compared to those couple of hours hours.
And then—
Sally gasped and immediately collapsed, her body wracked with sobs. Paul ran to her. “Sally, what—?”
He saw it. Something blue , Percy had told his mom.
The Empire State Building was lit up and Percy Jackson had let his mother know he survived.
And Paul sank down right next to her, clutching her as tight as she clutched him.
Thank the gods. His kid was okay.