Title: Faithless
Summary: Sixteen years ago, Poseidon lost his lover. Sixteen years ago, Harry gained a son. Present day, Percy is an average teenager. Or so he thought…
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Poseidon/Harry Potter
Warnings: Slash, Homoerotica, Drama, Angst, Romance, Intersex Harry, Harry Potter/Percy Jackson Crossover, Lightning Thief Spoilers, Alternate Universe & Reality.
Notes: There will be NO rape, sexual abuse, polyamory (threesomes or moresomes), incest, excessive gore, or unhappy endings found here :D Also, nothing explicit will be posted on this site and, just fair warning, I've taken a lot of creative liberty with this one. I hope you enjoy it.
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"Mom!"
Percy hurries into the kitchen, looking frantic in his rush to get ready for school. "Mom, have you seen my —"
A soft, faded blue hoodie is pressed into his hands, and he sighs in relief as he quickly pulls it on. "Thank you," he says. "I forgot you said you were doing laundry."
His mother smiles and shakes her head. "You're welcome, love. Do you have everything else you need for today?"
"Think so." Percy picks up his backpack from next to the kitchen table to check through it. "Yep, got my cellphone, wallet, and homework."
"And you're sure you don't want me to pack your lunch?" she asks.
"I'm sure," Percy answers as he slips on his backpack. "I'm having lunch at the museum, remember?"
"But what kind of food do they actually have there…?"
Percy pokes out his lip in a pout. "Let me have junk food just this once?"
She rolls her eyes. "Fine, fine. Give me a hug and get out of here, then."
Percy laughs as he leans down and hugs his mother close. "Love you, Mom. I'll see you this afternoon."
"I love you too." She squeezes him tightly and Percy wonders when he got so much taller than her. "Have fun today and call me if you need anything, okay?"
"I will." He pulls away and walks to the front door. "Bye Mom!"
"Bye, love," she says, and the door shuts softly behind him.
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Harry waits for twenty minutes after Percy leaves.
Like every morning, he falls into a routine. First, Harry washes their breakfast dishes. Over the past sixteen years he's found that a good, wholesome meal does wonders for Percy and his ADHD. Breakfast is always a must, and usually Harry insists on making Percy's lunch for school as well.
After finishing the dishes, Harry grabs his small watering can from under the sink. Rows upon rows of little pots line the windowsills in each room of the apartment, and Harry takes the time to water all of them. The scent of rock-roses — or kisthos — permeates every inch of their home, so much so that Percy often complains about smelling like flowers.
Once the last yellow bud is watered, Harry checks the time. It's been over half an hour since Percy left and Harry finally feels secure enough to head to his bedroom. He locks the door behind him and goes straight to his tiny, en suite bathroom. He latches the door and strips, letting his robe and silk nightgown slip down his body, and heats the shower until the bathroom is slick with steam. Then he takes a breath, yanks back the curtain, and steps inside.
Harry does not enjoy showers. The feel of water against his skin reminds him of things he would much rather forget, and today is no different. As soon as he's done washing the water's off and he's wrapped in a towel. It takes less than ten minutes.
His clothes for the day are laid on the bed. Harry sighs as he picks up his underwear and pulls them on. This is his least favorite part of getting ready.
The corset is the worst. No matter how often he wears it (and unfortunately it is often) putting it on never gets any easier. Harry winces as the corset digs into his sides and exhales in relief once it's in place. Gods above I hate this thing.
Thankfully the rest is easy. The dress —a cream color today — falls below his knees. With a little adjustment the gauzy material disguises his lack of bosom while the corset gives him the illusion of a figure. Now there's only one bit left.
Harry stares at himself in the bedroom mirror: the gray is already fading from his hair. He impatiently swipes his fingers through it until there are touches of silver around his temples and then, finally, Harry closes his eyes and when he opens them again, brown has replaced green.
It always startles him, even after sixteen years.
For Percy, he reminds himself with one last look in the mirror. Everything he does is for Percy.
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It's close to four in the afternoon when Harry realizes something is wrong.
He's spent the day cleaning. It's when he's starting dinner that a cold, creeping sensation makes its way up his spine and stops him in his tracks.
The front door thuds open. Harry can hear Percy's voice in the hall, but the cold feeling is still there. And…
"Mom?"
Harry hurries into the living room. Percy is not alone.
The boy with Percy looks older: much older, with acne and a prominent goatee, but it's the scent of barnyard animal that really catches Harry's attention. "Hi," the boy says nervously. "I'm Grover."
Grover. Percy's friend from school. His only friend from school. "Hello, Grover. It's nice to finally meet you."
As Grover stutters and blushes Harry turns to Percy. "How was the —"
He stops short when he sees Percy's face, white and wide-eyed. "Percy…?" Harry reaches out and that's when it hits him: the unmistakable smell of ash and death.
Dread coils like a snake in the pit of his stomach. "What happened?" he demands. He looks from Percy to Grover and back again when he receives no answer. The cold is back, stronger now, and panic quickens Harry's heart. "What happened?"
That snaps Percy out of his stupor. "Nothing! Nothing, really. Just, uh… I'm just tired. Long day, you know?"
Harry glances at Grover, who's looking more and more agitated. Percy abruptly turns him and leads him to the door. "See you tomorrow, Grover. Lots of homework to do."
"Huh? But we had a field trip —"
"Bye!"
It's as Percy is closing the door that Harry notices Grover's odd stance, the strange curvature of his legs, and has a sudden, terrible realization.
No.
Grover is — bleating —as he's pushed into the hall, Percy is muttering something about small bladders, and Harry's world is crumbling around him.
No.
"So," Percy says as he locks the door. Grover is stammering unintelligibly from the other side. "What's for dinner?"
Harry doesn't hear him.
"Mom?"
Get out of here, a voice in Harry screams. Get out now. They weren't safe here anymore. They had to —
He jolts when Percy touches his arm.
"Mom? Dinner?"
Harry struggles to pull himself together. "Eggplant parmesan. It'll be ready in an hour."
Percy grins, a bit of color returning to his cheeks. "Sweet!"
He starts to his room, a little more spring in his step, when Harry stops him. "Percy?"
"Yeah Mom?"
"How would you feel about going on a trip?"
Percy looks at him in surprise. "A trip?"
The idea came to Harry suddenly but he won't take it back now. He can't.
For Percy, he tells himself, even as he's gripped with fear.
Everything he does is for Percy.
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Montauk is beautiful.
Harry and Percy sit around the fire pit outside their cabin, looking out over the ocean. They talk and laugh and roast hotdogs and marshmallows and Harry can't recall the last time they had fun like this. It's almost enough to make him forget what brought them here in the first place.
The sun is setting over the water, turning the sky orange and pink and Harry sighs wistfully, remembering when he used to see that sunset every day…
"Wanna walk on the beach?"
He does. Desperately, in fact, but instead he says, "You know I don't like the sand," and hands Percy another marshmallow.
Percy has that look, the one he gets when he's decided to be particularly stubborn. "I don't get it."
"Get what?"
"Why you avoid the ocean if you love it so much."
Harry pretends to not understand. "I don't —"
"Yes you do." Percy tears into his marshmallow like it's personally offended him. "I know it's because —"
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
"— of my dad." Percy swallows and continues. "But you shouldn't let that stop you from doing the stuff you enjoy."
Harry smiles softly, heart full of love for his son, and wishes he could be completely honest with him. "You're right," he admits, "but it's too painful for me." And that is the truth. Part of it, at least.
"But —"
"Please, Percy. We're having such a nice time. Let's not ruin it with sad talk."
Percy grumbles but says nothing. Harry's just glad it's too cold for swimming or he would've had a much harder fight on his hands.
They spend a few minutes in peaceful silence, listening to the sounds of nature and eating too many marshmallows when Percy exclaims, "What's that?"
Harry turns — and his blood runs cold.
Far from shore, a storm is brewing: dark, frothing waves churn beneath a billowing black sky. As Harry watches, purple lightning strikes against the water and the wind, only a gentle breeze a moment ago, begins to howl and scream like a living thing. Percy stands up, enraptured, but Harry is already backing away towards the cabin.
"Get inside," he hisses. "Quickly, Percy."
They barely have enough time to close the door before the rain starts. Percy immediately sits by the window, looking delighted; he's always been fascinated by weather. Harry retreats into the living room and stays as far from the windows as he can.
Voices on the air…
He closes his eyes and tries not to listen.
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That night, Harry wakes abruptly.
Rain is coming down in sheets, sounding like bullets against the tin roof. Harry watches the shadows lightning makes on the walls and wonders what it was that woke him.
He slips from the bed, old parental instinct kicking in as he heads for Percy's room. His son may like storms now, but as a child he was terrified of thunder. Peeking inside, he sees Percy tangled in blankets and dead to the world in the way only a teenager can manage. Harry straightens the covers with a fond smile before heading back to his own room.
That's when the banging starts.
Harry freezes, heart suddenly in his throat. The knocking is loud, frantic, and coming from the front door. As he gets closer Harry can see the doorknob jiggling violently and hear someone yelling from outside.
Grover?
Harry rushes to the door, jerks it open, and Grover tumbles onto the floor, shaking and soaked to the bone.
"Gotta go," he says through chattering teeth. "Gotta go —it's behind me —get Percy —"
"What?" Harry's shaking now, too. "What do you mean? Grover —"
"We have to go." Grover scrambles to his feet, still panting. "Get Percy, get dressed, and let's get out of here before it catches up!"
Harry doesn't ask anything more; he doesn't need to.
Percy is tired and disoriented, but Harry wastes no time and has all three of them in the car within minutes. His Prius is flying down the road, pushing seventy, when Percy finally manages a raspy "What's going on?"
Harry has no idea where to even begin.
"You're a demigod," Grover blurts and Harry nearly crashes them into a tree. "You're half human, half Greek god and your dad —uh, actually I'm not sure who your dad is. Mrs. Jackson?"
Harry remains quiet.
"I know you probably don't want to talk about it but we need to know who Percy's dad is. It could be a matter of life or death —"
"Wait, wait, wait, wait." Percy is grumbling as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. "Grover, what are you talking about? Also, what are you even doing here?"
Grover scowls. "About that: next time you skip school and leave town, tell me. It's my job to look out for you, so where you go, I go."
"Look out for me? What —"
"Grover will tell you everything later," Harry interrupts softly. "Right now we need to focus on getting to the camp."
From the corner of his eye he sees Percy shoot him a startled look. "Mom…?"
"How far away are we?" Harry asks Grover.
"Ten minutes."
The speedometer jumps to eighty. He'll get them there in five.
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The sign Pick Your Own Strawberries is the first thing Harry sees. He quickly pulls to a stop and shuts off the car, eyes scanning the surroundings as he does. It's dark, no light to be seen for miles, and very quiet.
Perhaps too quiet.
"Percy," Harry says. "I want you to promise me something."
He hears Percy shifting next to him, the shallow sound of his breathing. "What is it?"
"Once we leave the car, you'll do everything Grover tells you to."
"Why?" he asks, and he doesn't sound indignant or confused. If anything, he sounds scared.
"Promise me, Percy. Please."
Reluctantly, he does. Harry exhales softly and pulls his keys from the ignition. "Alright. Let's go."
Grover takes the lead, heading for a big red barn in the distance. Percy follows and Harry brings up the rear, his heart pounding as they race through strawberry fields. It's too easy, he thinks, and wishes he'd asked Grover more when he had the chance.
But they're getting close now —an enormous pine tree looms up ahead and Harry can see the soft, glittering light that makes up the borders of the camp. Almost there…
They make it to the treeline.
And that's when they hear it.
A deafening bellow echoes through the forest, so loud even the trees seem to shake with it. The ground trembles beneath heavy footsteps before the smell hits, a stench of blood and death so foul Harry gags from it.
"What the hell was that?!" Percy shrieks.
"Run!" Grover screams.
They tear through the woods as fast as they can, but their pursuer is hot on their heels. Twice Harry feels a gust of wind ruffle his hair and has to force himself not to look back. Instead he focuses on urging Percy faster. "We're nearly there," he pants. "Keep going!"
"How do you know?! I can't see anything!"
"Just trust me!" The pine tree is only a few yards away. In fact —
Grover leaps within the safety of the camp's border and immediately turns around. His eyes bulge. "M-Mrs. Jackson!" he exclaims. "B-Baa-baahind you!"
Harry knows it's not him the monster wants. He sprints forward and shoves Percy hard just as a massive hand swipes at them.
"Go!" he yells, and Percy doesn't need to be told twice. He dashes towards Grover, who reaches out and pulls him inside the barrier the second he's close enough.
For a moment, Harry breathes a bit easier.
But only for a moment.
"Mom!" Percy shouts. He's caught sight of the monster, and his face is filled with fear. "Mom, come on!"
Harry slows to a stop and shakes his head. "I can't."
There's only a few feet between them; Harry can clearly see the incredulous look Percy is giving him from beyond the golden swirl of the border. "What… what are you talking about?! That thing is right behind you! We've got to go now —"
Again, Harry shakes his head. "I can't go any further than this. But as long as you're safe, that's all that matters. I —"
It happens suddenly — one second he's on the ground, the next he's airborne, trapped in a colossal fist. He manages to catch a glimpse of gleaming horns and feral eyes before the thing squeezes, and Harry chokes as all the breath is crushed out of his body.
"Mom!"
"Don't!" he gasps. Turning his head, he looks down at Percy, who's trying his best to escape Grover. "Just go! Go —"
The last thing Harry sees is Percy, charging towards the monster.
After that…
Nothing but darkness.
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A/N: I hope you liked this first chapter. I'm working on this whenever I hit roadblocks with Painted Red, so the next chapter won't be up for a while. Sorry :( But please review if you like.