(Fem.) Percy meets Spidey

37

Dad paced the length of the room, running his hands through his hair. Each step, he flickered. Poseidon. Neptune. Poseidon. I shifted in place, unease pressing at my shoulders. Did I really make him that upset? The only other time I've seen a god flicker is when referred to by their other name. But why would Neptune even care?

The brand on my arm itched.

"This needs to stop, Percy," he said, once he'd settled back into Poseidon.

"It's not like this is hurting me."

"This is hurting you!" Dad's Greek came out louder than his English, and I winced. "You're supposed to call me when something like this happens."

"I can't exactly call you if you're here," I deadpanned. My hand latched to his shirt, and I tugged him closer as he responded with something I didn't care about, something about that not being the point. What was the point then? "Daddy, you're loud." 

"Sorry." His hand settled on the back of my head, and he went quiet for a while, letting me rest against him. I wanted him to pull me closer, to be tucked tightly against his chest and told how much he cared about me. Childish, but it sounded good.

Would he be mad if I asked him to hug me?

"This. . . This is just going to keep getting worse if you don't tell her. You--Please tell me you were just really interested in how shiny the knife was."

"I'm not going to hurt myself."

"Seahorse, you've had suicidal thoughts."

"I called you."

Dad's hand brushed the back of my neck. "And I'm so proud of you for doing that. Very, very proud, but that doesn't change that you need your mother to know so she doesn't cause you to have another panic attack."

"Wasn't her fault."

"Was it what your brother said?" 

I chewed my lip. There wasn't a real answer to that. If I said yes, then Triton would get in trouble, but if I said no, then he'd be upset with Mom.

"If it wasn't something she just did, it had to be building up. Something small that you can say doesn't bother you, but it's too similar to other circumstances," he said quietly. "This is why I wanted you to tell her in the first place.

"It's going to get to a point where you convince yourself that hurting yourself isn't really that bad. You'll say, it'll just be one time. Then it'll be twice. And then--And then I'm not sure if you'd tell me if you were thinking about killing yourself."

"Do you love me?"

He froze like I slapped him. "Of course, I love you.  What have I done to make you think--"

"Then I'd tell you." I nestled closer to his chest, but I had to bite back a whine when he pulled away. I scrubbed at my face. Don't cry. "Don't want you to stop."

He sighed and sat next to me. I didn't react when he took my hand in his, or when he cradled it. There was a sort of somber amazement in his eyes as he gently traced my fingers.

"Thanks for the seahorse," I said. My head tilted until it rested against his shoulder. "You didn't have to."

"You didn't like your birthday present." Before I could protest, he added, "Percy, there's little you could ask me for that I wouldn't give. You can tell me if you don't like something. I won't be mad."

"I like the bracelet. I don't want to lose it."

It was a bold-faced lie. Jewelry wasn't something I really liked in the first place, and I still didn't know if it did anything. It had to. Even my last birthday present from him--the sand dollar--served a purpose.