Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own these lovely people. They belong to themselves and the wonderful imagination of Rick Riordan

Percy doesn't know exactly what time it is, but the sun has long since disappeared below the horizon, and he can barely see his own hands in front of his face. He's sitting on a curb - where, he's not entirely sure. He's long since lost his sense of direction, but, strangely enough, he doesn't care.

It's peaceful, sitting there, and Percy can't help but smile into the darkness. There's no shouting parents, indifferent mothers and spiteful stepfathers, no being rushed off to therapy for a problem that isn't really a problem, and thankfully, no one begging him to talk. At random intervals, he can feel the wind blowing cool on his face, and he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it filter through his lungs, cleansing him in the best way he knows how. He's always liked the night; liked the way it can't judge him, can barely even see him. The air around him isn't talking either, and Percy is grateful for the silence.

Percy can't help but think of Nico.

In all honesty, it frustrates him. He doesn't like feeling as though he's dependant on someone, and that's how he's beginning to feel about this boy. He's constantly there in the back of his mind, gentle eyes and encouraging smiles, and it makes Percy want to be different. Never before has he regretted his decision. Never has he wished to go back to how he was - a normal teenager who nobody really thought twice about, a teenager that his parents still loved, who they could be proud of. He had given it all up gladly, not caring about the consequences. It had come as a shock to them all. It's not something that he could change abruptly. He didn't just shout from a rooftop one day that he had decided to give up the use of words.

It had been three years ago, thatnight, the night that Percy still remembers clear as day, and hates reliving. He squeezes his eyes shut, blocks it out and forces himself not to think about it, because his mind is wandering down a dangerous path. Alone, in the dark, on the corner of a street Percy has forgotten the name of, he decides that it's probably not a good time to get lost in a whirlwind of his own thoughts.

When he stands up, he wobbles a little, throwing his hands out to steady himself. He wraps his jacket tighter around his thin frame, braving a step forward into the darkness. He had no idea where he is, but it's getting far too late, and the idea of staying away much longer is quickly growing less appealing. As much as he doesn't want to go home and face his stepfather, it's dark, and cold, and his bed sounds like a gift from God at that moment.

He starts to walk.

It's breaching on daylight by the time Percy manages to stumble home. He opens the front door with the barest creaking sound, determined not to disturb his stepfather. He can only imagine the trouble he'd be in for if he woke him up at this time of night- no morning. He kicks his shoes off at the front door, stepping inside and easing it closed again. There are no lights on, and Percy doesn't dare flick any switches, instead using the tiny bit of morning light to navigate his way through the house. He's shuffling his way across the hardwood floor when he steps in something wet, and his feet slide out from underneath him.

Percy falls to the floor with a thud, grimacing. He stays there a moment, inwardly cursing whatever it was that made him slip. When he sits up and looks down beneath him, it looks like water at first. Percy can't for the life of him think of why there would be water on the floor, but a quick glance to the dining table beside him makes him see sense.

Not water. Vodka.

The bottle is tipped on its side, the contents having long spilt over the edge of the table and onto the floor, creating a nice little puddle for Percy to slip on. He rolls his eyes, instead choosing to curse his stepfather, and stands up. Walking slowly so as not to trip again, Percy edges away from the puddle and fumbles his way into the laundry. He grabs a towel off the closest pile of washing, wipes the bottom on his feet so that he doesn't slip again, and ventures back into the dining room. He doesn't bother wiping up the liquid - It's 4 o'clock in the fucking morning, and damned if he's going to clean up his stepfather's mess. Instead, he throws the towel down so that it covers the spill. It'll absorb the vodka, and he'll put the towel in the wash tomorrow. For now, he just wants to sleep.

Percy is edging past the living room, trying not to make any more noise than he already has when he sees him. It's a pathetic sight, and one that Percy has seen many times. His stepfather is sprawled out on the living room floor, an assortment of empty alcoholic drinks surrounding him. His mouth is hanging open, his eyelids shut. There's even a small pool of throw up next to his head, and Percy fights the urge to throw up himself at the sight. With a hand covering his mouth, he leaves his passed-out stepfather alone in the living room and finds his way to his bedroom. He'll leave the bastard, wait until he wakes up in the morning covered in his own filth, and maybe that'll teach him. Percy knows it won't, but he's past caring.

Slipping underneath his covers, Percy rests his head against his pillow and sighs, letting his eyes close. He rolls over, and without bothering to strip off his clothes, he lets himself fall asleep.

Percy wakes up early this time, dressing quickly and bounding into the kitchen. He's already decided that he's going to go to his session today, and the thought of seeing Nico lifts a smile to his lips. He enters the kitchen grinning, but stops short when he sees his mother standing there, staring at him.

"I can't believe you," she says lowly, and Percy takes a step back in confusion.

He's still shocked that she's back; he had assumed she would be gone at least longer than a day. But here she is, standing in front of him. She's come crawling back as always, and even though he hated the thought of her leaving him alone, he feels a bitter twist of resentment at the fact that yet again, she caved in. And then there's the added confusion because she's looking at him with such loathing. He notices her hands are shaking.

"Did you think it was funny? What if I hadn't come home, what then?"

He's still at a loss, and he cocks his head to the side, confusion clouding his features. She sees, and she somehow looks even more furious.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about, Perseus. This is low, even for you."

With no idea what she's talking about, Percy shrugs his shoulders, again trying to convey that she needs to explain things a little better. She seethes, but she presses on.

"Leaving your father choking on his own vomit? After everything he's done for you. You're the reason he drinks so much, but you can't even take the time to help him out when he gets in a bad way."

He ignores the part of him being the reason his stepfather drinks. It's not true and he knows it. His stepfather was a fuck up long before Percy was. If anything, Gabe is the reason why Percy is a mess.

"He's in the hospital with alcohol poisoning, thanks to you. I hope you're happy."

Percy turns to walk away from her. It's not like this is the first time, and he knows that it's not his fault. He didn't push the drinks into his stepfather's hands, didn't force the liquid past his lips and make him swallow.

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you! You're coming with me to the hospital, and when he wakes up, you're going to apologize."

Percy doesn't bother to question exactly how he's supposed to apologize. He shrugs, she throws his coat at him, and they make their way to the car without a word.

As soon as he enters the hospital, Percy wants to turn around and go home again. He doesn't understand why he has to be here, forced to sit and play the worrying son while they try and save his stepfather's life yet again. Most of the time, Percy sits and wonders whether it's a life even worth saving. All it will do is give him more time to drink and land himself in the same situation, until one day they don't make it to the hospital in time. His mother can tell herself every time that he'll stop, but they all know it won't happen until the man is in his grave.

Percy's leg fidgets as he sits in the uncomfortable plastic waiting room chairs. His right leg is bouncing as Percy bites his lip in annoyance. Soon enough, they're going to make him go in and see his stepfather. The doctors walking past see him, and shoot him sympathetic glances. Percy wants to scream at them all that he doesn't care. He doesn't want their sympathy because there's nothing wrong with him. They see a seventeen year old kid with a father in hospital and they immediately assume that he's falling to pieces. They don't even think about the fact that maybe the reason he hasn't said a word isn't shock or worry. He's not worrying, and he's certainly not shocked. When he left his stpfather in the living room, he never expected it to be all rainbows and butterflies.

In the back of his mind, he knows that maybe he hoped this would happen.

His mother sits beside him, hassling the doctors constantly for when she can see her husband. They give her the same answer every single time, but it doesn't deter her from asking again. Percy turns his back to her, stares at the wall across the hallway and wishes he was somewhere else.

He even finds himself wishing he was back at the therapist's, even though he hated the idea of going there in the first place. It's almost degrading the way his parents' palmed him off to be someone else's problem, but he can't help but think that it turned out better than he could have expected.

He's curious, really. He wants to know what it is that's the matter with Nico. He wants to know why Nico is subjected to the sessions with the psychiatrist; only, he's too scared to ask. He doesn't want to infringe on Nico's privacy, doesn't want him to be mad at him in the slightest. It never once crosses his mind that Nico might not be there for the sessions - he sees Nico there every day at the same time, and it just makes sense that he would be seeing the same therapist. Percy doesn't ever question that there could be another reason for Nico's presence.

His thoughts are cut off when the doctor's finally call out that they can see his stepfather now, and his mother is tugging on his sleeve, pulling him towards his stepfather's room. Percy trudges along after his mother with shoes of lead; his head hung low and glaring at the floor.

The minute he's standing beside Gabe's bed, looking down at the mess of a man, he resents everything. He hates the way his stepfather acts all the time, hates his mother for putting up with it, and hates himself for being the spawn of two people who can't seem to hold it together. It's like he was born with the sole purpose to fuck everything up just a little bit more, and he hates it. It's not that he thinks it's his fault; it's that everybody else does.

"Percy, what have you got to say to your father?" his mother presses, giving him a warning stare.

Percy smiles bitterly down at his stepfather, a sick twist of his lips. He moves his hand as if to touch his stepfather's, but at the last second, brings his hand up and flips up his middle finger. It's so quick his mother and stepfather are left in complete shock, and Percy doesn't give them a moment to react before he's leaving, his feet powering fast out the door.

He already knows where he's going.

Well I finished finals, and as far as I know, I didn't fail, so all is well. I hope you liked this chapter. We get to see some more of the Ugliano family dynamic. Plus, Percy gets a little brave. I don't know if this counts as a cliff-hanger or not, but I hope it is suspenseful nevertheless. I don't know how many chapters are left, but I think that this is more than halfway done. I do have a plan for the rest of it though. Don't hate me for the ending please? Thanks.