Aquagirl (Fem. Percy x YJ)

97

Poseidon (Father? Dad?) was in my room again. I did not mind him. He sat like a solid stone, never moving even as he tracked me across the room. His hands were folded in his lap, different from the way Father held himself, different from how Percy held herself, but in a way I could see mirrored in my own mannerisms.

"You need to calm down," he said.

"I am trying." Five, six, seven steps. I reached the wall, then I turned and paced the other way. My hands remained at my sides. Whenever I clutched at my arms with my nails digging deep, the worry radiating from him would become almost tangible. I knew, dare I ask him, he would hold me. He had been the one to originally make the offer, but my pride put itself between us. Why now? Why, I thought, would he bother to figure out if he is my father when my trial is slated for tomorrow? With less than a week between it and when he stopped me in the bathroom?

The bed creaked when he stood. Hopefully, whoever moved into this room would get a new one. Poseidon fell into step beside me. If it was an attempt to soothe, it only made my heart beat faster and my breath skip on inhales. I turned to go back to the far wall. Warm hands fell onto my shoulders like weights, pushing me into my body and the ground.

"You have nothing to worry about, my son." The endearment felt weird---like a twisting serpent had taken residence in my chest--whenever it came from him. "I told you, everything will turn out okay." His voice softened. I wanted to lean into him then. The week prior had become hazy in my mind, in no small part due to blood loss, but there was some memory of comfort and safety. That was rare for me.

I swallowed and shook my head. "You should not interfere with this." Is this how Percy always felt? The terror of saying one wrong thing to a parent who is supposed to love you and having them kill you?

He cupped my face. He didn't make me look up at him, simply stood like that letting me stare at the palm trees and sea turtles on his shirt. Why did he do this? I couldn't figure it out. All I had to go on was his words about making up for lost time, but what had made it lost to begin with?

"Even if I do not, which I will not promise, child"--I noticed the way he seemed to take pleasure in the word--"you have others who are more than willing to do so. The therapist ripped into Orin for you." Poseidon grinned. It made my heart freeze, and I wanted to fall back a step. Right. He's not human, his smile should be unsettling.

"I deserve whatever punishment I am given." I tortured Percy. It is only right that I am hurt for that crime. I tortured a princess. It is only right that I am held accountable for treason. The thought gave me a moment of pause. If Percy is a princess because of her---our---father, then that would mean...

He seemed to know my train of thought. A firm hand squeezed the back of my neck. "I do need someone to keep Percy in control for diplomatic meetings. And," he sighed, "I spared her once for similar matters. You'll face no punishment from me. Unlike Orin, I know too well what monsters are capable of. And when they're fixated on a demigod like they have been with Percy--" He didn't continue. He didn't need to continue. Fire pressed against my skin. Knives. Poisons. Watching as my baby sister drowned, knowing I was the one causing her pain. Knowing that I would break myself so she could have a chance at making it out okay. Hurt her, so she didn't have to hurt me. I could deal with it. I could. Protecting her was my job. And I did it.

I could die without worry.

Shifting my weight earned a concerned look, and he lightened his grip. His fingers fluttered against my shoulders. Green eyes searched for some defect or flaw in my expression. Something that would hint at what caused me to move like that. Pressure bloomed in my chest. Would he hold me if he found it? I was hyper-aware of my own heartbeat. Would he hold me against him and tell me I was wrong? That it was not a good decision because it got me hurt?

I shuffled a half-step closer to him, unwilling to put the question to the air. Shame flushed my face. It shouldn't have. If he was really my father, asking him to hold me should have been no different than wanting Mother to.  But Percy did not tend to ask for things like this. When she did, there was no hesitation. Another way the generals had been right, another way she was better than me. 

He guided me back to my bed and clambered on after me. I awkwardly curled up, all too aware of the lack of blankets or pillows or anything the adults had determined I could use to harm myself. Not even my blankets from home had been spared from the purge. Nor had the weighted one that so often helped me sleep. 

Why worry if I can sleep when there are other issues with me?

Poseidon let me grasp at his hand, even let me press my cheek against it. He let me move closer to him and let me move away when I grew too warm or uncomfortable. He let me press my face against his chest. He let me have a tiny bit of control, and it was enough.

I let him hold me. For once it was a choice that I felt like I was making. There was no pretense, and no motivation of doing it so Dinah or Mother would think I was doing better. Heat radiated from him. It worked its way into my hands and my bones. Warm hands lifted me and maneuvered me to lean against him. My bare feet hung off the side of the bed.

Dad hummed a soft lullaby, brushing his fingers through my hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. It was too much. I sobbed.

It's another betrayal, my mind whispered. Why for him? Why not Father or Mother or Orin? Why are the people you fall apart in front of the ones you have the least reason to trust? What linked them together? I searched my mind, over and over again.

He shushed me, gently swaying to calm me down. Fingers brushed away my tears. I let him slide me down so my head was against his chest. Da dump, da dump. Shuddering, I breathed out. I almost forgot what I was thinking about, overwhelmed by an intense calm and peace. He was trying to get me to sleep. I shook my head in protest, mumbling that I wanted to sit up with him for a while. He seemed to like that, all happy smiles mixed with sad eyes and gentle hands rubbing soothing circles on my skin.

It was against him like that that I remembered what I was trying to think about. Dinah had never been one to kill me. Dad, maybe; my memories grew fuzzier with every passing day. Nights were a different story, when every detail would play back like it had been recorded. If he had, I decided, he never killed me by luring me in. It was only Mother and Father and Orin who had done that.

Might still.

I drew my thumb across my stomach, replicating the motion I'd have to make the next day. No matter what Dad said (when did I start calling him that, why did it feel right?), my king had made it clear before that Percy's status would not protect her. Why would it be any different for me when my crimes are so much worse?

Tomorrow, I'd die.

Tomorrow, I might wake up back in that cell.

Merry Christmas! I decided to not give you angst!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story, there's two more chapters left.

See yah