He slept for years.
He was in a coma.
His sea green eyes didn't open once in those years that passed.
His step-father had been drunk one day and blindly beat him up.
He slammed the boy's head into the wall repeatedly until he didn't move anymore. His skull had cracked.
But he lived on.
His mother found him, laying on the floor limply, moments later. She rushed him to the hospital.
"He's in a coma. I don't think he'll ever wake up."
"But he's dreaming, isn't he? Of far off places and sunny days?"
"...Yes, Mrs. Jackson. He is."
Indeed he was. In his slumber, Percy Jackson imagined a world of Gods and battles. Of friends, adventures, and happy endings. He lived on in these dreams, each year passing.
Percy dreamt of friends, and magic, and of being heroic. His dreams were sometimes nightmares that haunted him.
Not once did he wake.
"Mrs. Jackson?"
"Yes?"
"It's been three years. There hasn't been a change."
"I know."
"I think it's time."
"It can't be. He'll wake up. He'll tell me of his wonderful dreams."
The doctor didn't know how to tell her that he wouldn't wake up. Not even for a moment.
Percy Jackson was practically dead.
Being kept alive by machines; just not ones made by Hephaestus.
Everyday, Sally Jackson read to him.
She started with Greek Myths.
"Your father looked like Poseidon, Percy. Wouldn't it be amazing if he really was your father? You might be able to control water." She smiled at his sleeping form; so at ease and peaceful. "You always loved the ocean."
He heard this things, somewhere. Her voice formed his dreams.
"Are you having fun, Percy? Are the other kids accepting you there? They never were nice to you..."
"Come on, Seaweed Brain."
Sally imagined him playing all the video games he wanted; living in the nicest house with no Gabe to bother him.
He'd have a girlfriend, by now. He was 15.
She imagined dressing him up in a tuxedo and sending him out on dates.
"Be home by eleven!" She'd say as he ran out.
She never would be able to say that.
His 16th birthday finally came.
"Percy, happy birthday!" She brought him a blue cupcake.
She wasn't all together, anymore; held together only by the small hope she had left in him.
The cupcake was deformed, but she didn't notice.
"You'll wake up, soon." She whispered, brushing back his dark hair.
"One day."
The days turned dark as she struggled to pay for the hospital bills.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jackson. We can't keep him."
"Just one more week, please!"
"Four years, Sally! He's not coming back!"
Sally Jackson broke.
She ran to her son one last time. "Wake up, Percy. I'll buy you anything you want. We can go to the beach. You can stay at a school near me. I promise. Just, please: Wake up."
It wasn't his decision.
He didn't wake up.
That night, the blood in her body ran cold and her lifeless body fell to the ground.
Sally Jackson had fallen apart.
Percy Jackson never woke up.