~* Shadows Searching in the Night ~ *
The library was all but empty. Behind the worn front counter, the librarian sat, lovingly sorting through the mass of books in the return bin. The computer before her was a relic of the ancient past, large and stoic, and next to it spread a litany of paperclips and pens in great disarray. It was an old library, saturated with the scent of aged ink and paper, and the bricks that held the fortress together had long since been washed of their color. Dim lights swung lazily overhead, flickering and creating a gentle hum that swam through the air and danced across the shelves; great wooden strongholds laden with tomes bearing cracked spines but happy hearts from the oil that seeped into their pages, imprints forever imparted upon their souls.
The librarian didn't hear the man enter and when his shadow fell across her desk, compelling her to turn and catch sight of him, something stopped her from speaking. Even before he entered, she was not alone. In the back corner, tucked away in an old chair, sat a boy. And looking at the man before her, she knew this man had come for him. She smiled benignly, her eyes crinkling as she tilted her head towards the corner.
The man offered her a tired smile, and it so looked like the one the boy gave her when he walked through her doors several hours ago it made her heart ache. Unbeknownst to her, the man was not, in fact, a man at all. Lord Poseidon, god of the sea, Stormbringer and Earthshaker, bid the librarian a silent adieu before embarking across the empty library to its far reaches.
The corner was totally sectioned off from the rest of the library, a lone chair and table barely squished into the space between the wall and a towering shelf. A blue backpack sat unzipped, its contents spewed hazardously, across the table. But what drew Poseidon's attention was the young man sleeping in the chair behind it all.
Percy Jackson couldn't have chosen a worse place to fall asleep at. His head was shoved in the narrow corner where the walls met, his neck twisted at an awkward angle. One of his lanky legs was caught on the edge of the table, the other stretched out beneath it. A large textbook was open on his lap, in great danger of falling off any second and plummeting to the floor. One of his hands rested on top of it, the other dangled at his side. His hair stuck up at every end, half of it plastered against the wall. And even though he slept, the son of Poseidon didn't look peaceful.
His clothes hung on his frame, too large for a body that had too little recently. Dark bags shadowed his eyes, which twitched constantly behind his closed eyelids. The pallor of his skin was almost sickening under the artificial lights of the library.
Poseidon wasn't entirely sure what he expected to find. The Giant War had barely passed. Tartarus, and the other horrors of the wars his child had fought in, still held him fast in their hold.
Oh my son, he thought softly as he cursed Zeus for his cruel rules, even after all Percy had done for them. Hera, for all she brought upon his son. The world, for all it threw at him.
Himself, for all his cowardice and weakness.
Percy shifted and the book balanced precariously on his lap took the plunge. Poseidon caught it before it hit the floor. The sound of a book hitting the floor would be like a gunshot to the demigod in this silence. He carefully closed the book, making sure not to make a sound. He set the book down on the table, on top of pages of notes scribbled in half-legible scrawl.
Percy was drooling, Poseidon noticed with a faint smile when he turned his attention back to his son. It was ridiculous, the little dribble of spit that slowly made its way down Percy's chin should be disgusting not opening a hole of grief and pain and fondness in the sea lord's chest.
Percy shifted again, his eyebrows pulling together. Poseidon wondered what he was dreaming about. As he watched, Percy's breathing slowly started to increase, his chest rising and falling quickly, eyes rapidly moving behind closed lids, he realized it wasn't anything good.
Nightmare, Poseidon thought bitterly, because it wasn't enough that his son was tortured in his waking hours.
Percy twitched, his breath coming in quick gasps. Poseidon's fingers curled into fists, trembling with rage at the unfairness of it all. He should wake Percy up, but then he would have to leave. Zeus wouldn't tolerate a meeting. But he wasn't ready to leave yet, not when his son was so close and real. A whimper escaped Percy's lips, soft and almost inaudible even in the silence. Trying to stay strong, even in his sleep.
Poseidon couldn't bear it.
Percy woke with a start, sea green eyes snapping to attention and sweeping across the room before he was even truly awake. He swallowed heavily, hand reaching into his pocket to undoubtedly curl around the pen that hid within. His head turned to the side, panning across the empty rows of books with frightening scrutiny and intensity before falling limply against the wall. The son of Poseidon groaned, running a hand over his face, grimacing when it came away with drool.
Poseidon sighed from his spot outside the library, half hidden in the shadows, where he disappeared off to the moment his magic skirted across his son's subconscious. Waking Percy without startling him wasn't easy, subtly never was a god's strong suit, and he knew if his son paid his situation enough scrutiny he would discover his father's presence… but his fatigue should prevent that. The window that spanned the entire front wall granted Poseidon enough opportunity to watch Percy peel himself off the wall, hissing undoubtedly at the pain in his neck as he ran a hand over it.
Percy leaned forward, rubbing his calf with a slightest twisted expressed as he stared ruefully at his homework. Poseidon could see the gears in his head turning (how much did I get done, when did I fall asleep, did I get anything done?). Being suddenly plucked from your life and mind-wiped by an unsympathetic goddess would put a dent in one's academic career, Poseidon thought sourly. Just being a demigod took enough toll; he was certain that Percy would struggle for a long time to overcome this obstacle.
With a dejected sigh, Percy started to pack his things away. When he picked up the book Poseidon rescued from his lap, he paused, frowning. Poseidon watched him slowly lift the book, as if testing its weight. You put it away, he silently willed his son to believe, you set it aside before you fell asleep. He tried to ignore the twinge of disappointment as Percy shrugged and tucked the book away. It was better this way, if Percy didn't suspect anything. It was reckless enough for Poseidon to be here.
Shaking his head as if to dispel his lingering drowsiness, Percy stumbled to his feet, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. He glanced around his little corner, eyes half lidded. Could he smell the ocean?
The librarian looked up as Percy approached. He smiled abashedly at her, hunching his shoulders and rubbing the back of his neck. Poseidon could barely see him now, just a vague Percy-ish shaped shadow that approached the desk.
"Sorry," Percy apologized, his voice rough and hoarse. "Ah, I didn't mean to fall asleep. You could have, um, woke me up and told me to beat it. I didn't mean to keep you – "
The librarian laughed, "Oh don't worry about it dear, you didn't keep me none. I have work to do. Besides, you look like you could use a good night's sleep or two."
"Probably," Percy easily agreed. "Ah, thanks and sorry anyway."
The library door opened and Percy stepped into the night. He stood in the doorway for a second before turning, his back towards Poseidon, and began to walk away. The sound of the city drown out the tread of his footsteps but Poseidon felt each and every one of them.
Farewell my son, until next time, Poseidon thought, ready to transport himself back to his underwater domain when Percy stopped. His son came to a halt directly beneath a street lamp, its harsh light a halo above his head that lit his entire frame in brilliant light. His head tilted to the side and then in one fluid movement he pivoted on his heel and sea green eyes unerringly met their match in the shadows of the library.
Poseidon knew Percy saw him, could see the recognition clicking in his son's eyes. He didn't look particularly surprised, but then again Poseidon hadn't been particularly subtle. The sea god waited and, beneath the streetlight, so did Percy. He didn't approach Poseidon, didn't try to speak or anything else. The corner of his mouth twitched a bit, a ghost of a smile on his tired and worn face.
Poseidon allowed himself to smile back, soft and sad. I'm sorry. I cannot come closer, but I am here.
Percy's eyes softened. He understood. He shouldn't, it wasn't fair, he deserved better, but Poseidon was selfishly grateful and his heart swelled with affection for this strong, brave child.
Percy hefted his backpack further up his shoulder and turned away. He didn't look back as he walked into the night.
Poseidon thought he knew his father watched anyway.
A/n I apologize for the cliché Journey title. You know, this is all I wanted at the end of BoO. I don't need another big hug, I'm so proud of you, my favorite son you true child of the sea you - okay, that's a lie, I really really need that but I can at least remain objective and reasonable. A little heartfelt eye contact? Is that really too much to ask for? Please?
Well, I'm off to write some sickeningly sweet father/son fluff instead of dealing with my problems. Please let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoyed ~ *