Was It My Fault? Or Was It Theirs?

How

"Where the hell were you?" Octavian sneers, pushing Percy's face into the wall.

Percy winces, the pain already throbbing in his cheek. He hated making him mad, but Percy was a terrible boyfriend. He deserved whatever Octavian gave him. Percy knew how much of a disappointment everyone thought he was when he was growing up. 

"I was at work, Tav. I swear." Percy whimpers.

"No, you were out whoring around." he growls, grabbing him by the throat and throwing Percy to the floor.

Percy shouts when his arm twists in a weird direction. He lays on the floor, cradling his arm and groaning. It's my fault, I never told him where I was going, Percy thinks, tears falling from his eyes. Percy hated feeling weak, but he knew that he was the reason Octavian was doing this. He was the reason for his anger. Percy just couldn't be the perfect boyfriend to Octavian.

"Clean yourself up, I'm going out." Octavian growls to him, kicking him.

He can hear when Octavian exits the room, his footsteps growing quieter and then the slam of the front door echos around the room. Percy has never felt this small in years, not after his first step father was with his mother. 

Percy whimpers when he moves to stand up. His arm throbbing in pain. He doesn't know if it's broken or just twisted. He grabs his arm and clutches it to his chest. Tears start to pool in his eyes again with the on coming pain in his arm, slowly sliding down his cheeks.

Percy shuffles his way to the door. He didn't even get the chance to change out of his work clothes when Octavian cornered him. So he'll have to enter the hospital with clothes that smell like beer and smoke.

He slowly makes his way to his car, not wanting to slip on the ice from yesterdays snow. Percy made a mental note to salt the way to their cars when he comes back. He also makes another mental note to buy Octavian something as an apology for being a bad boyfriend. Maybe some flowers with a nice dinner.

Percy opens his door and manages to slid in without hurting his arm. He puts the key in the ignition and then turns the key until the engine groans to life. He puts his injured arm into his lap and pulls out of the driveway.

He drives carefully, not wanting to wreck his car. God knows he can't afford a new one. Not with how little he makes a the bar. And then pile bills on top of that.

Soon he arrives at his destination, Percy parks not too close, but not too far away from the entrance. He likes to save spots for people with more important problems than himself. He would normally park farther towards the back, but it is too cold out for Percy to walk that far. He would prefer not to freeze tonight.

As he shuffles is way into the building, he feels the coldness of the wind blow some snow into his face. He shivers and tightens his grip to try to block the chill. The doors slide open and he makes his way to the desk. His face feels flushed from the onslaught of heat after trekking through the cold outside.

"How may I help you?" the woman sitting at the desk asks, looking up from the computer she was working on.

"Um, I think I might have sprained my arm, but I'm not too sure." he says, not meeting her eyes.

"Alright, just give me one moment." she tells him, typing on her computer," What is your name?"

"Perseus Jackson." he answers.

"Date of birth?" she asks, still typing.

"August eighteenth, nineteen-ninetythree." he replies, shifting his feet.

"How would you rate the pain you're in on a scale from one to ten?" she questions, not looking up from the computer.

"Probably a nine. I can't really move it without a sharp pain traveling through my arm." Percy tells her.