Sally meets him one cold morning on the beach at Montauk. He's handsome, and kind, and most importantly he seems to understand the marks a hard life leaves behind.
He's the first one who doesn't tell her that it will get better if only she gives life a chance. Instead he tells her that some people survive life, but others live it, and you don't always get a choice either way. He's also the one who tells her that humans have been stuck between these options for millennia. He introduces himself as Poseidon, no last name given. Sally thinks she understands.
They spend the summer together, and nothing more. Before he leaves, he lays both hands on her stomach and gives her a warning. It's filled with unfathomable love and unknowable sadness.
Sally doesn't understand yet.
She will.
Sally has never been more aware of the lack of support in her life. The lack of support she has to help her with caring for this child. She has no parents. No siblings. She gave up everything to care for a bitter old uncle who left her nothing when he finally died.
Her child's father cannot stay.
"It is not safe for the child to remain with me for long. Monsters will hunt him down for it. They will kill him." This is what Poseidon tells her. But she remembers the myths. She remembers his wife, even if he won't say what they're both thinking. "Come with me. I'll build you a palace under the sea." This is what he offers her. Offers them.
"Amphitrite will not take kindly to your mistress and bastard. Especially if you build a monument to us like that. He will die anyway." This is what she does not tell him. This is what they both know.
So, Sally has no one. She refuses to let the same thing happen to her baby. If nothing else, she will always be there. He will never be alone.
Perseus Jackson is born one August morning to a mother who receives no visitors. The only congratulations she receives are those provided by the doctors and nurses. She puts on a happy face for her audience, and in truth, she already loves Percy with all her heart.
It's because of this love that, once little Percy is soundly asleep, she lets silent tears slip down her cheeks. She thinks of what Poseidon told her and resists the urge to clutch her child closer, clutch him tighter. Not her little Percy. They won't take her son for something he cannot control. Not for something that was the fault of his parents. She will protect him for as long as she can.
When Percy is three, she meets Gabriel Ugliano. She knows from the moment she meets him exactly what kind of man he is. She can see the way his stench obscures the Mist almost completely. She can see the way it smothers what little aura Percy gives off. Three is too young to be attracting monsters, but Poseidon told her that any child of his would be strong. Percy potentially even more so, though he wouldn't say why.
She marries Gabriel later that year, and steels herself for the inevitable. She will do whatever it takes to keep the monsters away from her son, mortal ones included.
She will do what she can to ensure Percy survives, but she can only hope that one day he learns how to live.
Percy is five and Sally has become an expert in Ancient Greek myths and legends. She has also become an expert in hiding bruises. Gabriel is exactly as bad as she feared and not a bit more; she has long since grown used to his barked orders and thinly veiled threats. She works long hours at the candy shop, trying to hang on that little bit longer to avoid Gabriel's poker parties. She's exhausted.
Percy spends most of his time at home hiding in his room, door firmly shut. Sally can't help but feel her dream of him living slipping slowly away. He's too quiet. He won't meet people's eyes. Somehow though, he always has a smile for her, no matter how small. She clings to this along with her hope for a better life for him, resolutely ignoring the way the sparkle in his eyes reminds her of his father; reminds her of his inevitable fate.
She will protect him for as long as possible.
She knows she can't do it forever.
Percy is seven when everything starts going wrong.
Poseidon never warned her about soul-scars.
Percy is six when they learn about Soul-Scars in school. Every religion agrees on their purpose, even if their origin remains conflicted and unknown. His teacher sends a note home telling his parents to inform him if they haven't already.
His mom explains it like this:
In the beginning, humans were powerful beings, sculpted by Prometheus to have two heads, four arms, and four legs. The gods feared their power, but did not want to lose their worshippers. To lessen their power, Zeus split them into two. So consumed by sadness and pain, the humans stopped eating and drinking and surviving until Apollo re-sculpted them into what we look like today. In splitting them, Zeus condemned them to a lifelong search for their other halves. According to the myths, when two halves are reunited, they will find a silent, indescribable joy in each other. Happiness. Love. These are soulmates, and everyone has them, even if not everyone believes in them.
Sometimes, though, sometimes the Fates bind two people who share a great destiny even further than this, allowing them to help each other through their darkest battles. Allowing them the certainty that even if they never find their soulmate, they will find someone who will understand. Their life lines are woven together in the tapestry of fate, connecting their very souls. As such, they tend to share permanent marks, usually scars. A scar on one soulmate will appear as a golden match on the other. These are soul-scars.
His teachers explain it as a mess of biology and treat it with nothing but scorn. They do not believe in the myths. After all, how could one person's journey be greater than another's when we all go through life together? How can shared scars result in understanding a complete stranger? Percy thinks of the bruises on his ribs made by hands much bigger than his own. The bruises on his ribs that match the ones on his mother's arms.
Most kids seem terrified by the possibility of being marked for life by someone they do not know. Privately, Percy can't help but feel hopeful. The bruises on his ribs no longer feel like a world on his shoulders. He would give nearly anything for someone to understand.
Percy is seven when it appears. The Soul-Scar. The one he can't hide. He's got others by now, but they were thin slivers of gold easily passed off as a trick of the light. This one is thick and twisted and on his face. It narrowly misses his eye. His mother is visibly distraught when she sees it, but Percy thinks it might be his soulmate's way of getting payback. After all, it was only last month that Percy gave them a thick golden scar on their shoulder; a match to the raised red one on his from one of Gabe's thrown beer bottles.
The next day at school, everyone stares. Percy holds his head high. He will not be cowed for bearing a golden impression of his soulmate. Some teachers look at him with pity, others with barely concealed curiosity. A select few glare at him with outright loathing.
Despite his pride in his Soulmark, his schoolmates shun and mock him. Their voices echo with Smelly Gabe's, all of them spitting words like ugly and loner. Words like freak. Percy endures it all, but by the end of the week he feels something cracking.
Is it really so wrong to have a soulmate?
Percy is eight and his mother has sent him to a private military school. She thinks the kids there will be kinder. She thinks they will understand. She doesn't know that some of them enjoy making others feel small in order to feel big. She doesn't know that they see his scar as an offence to everything their parents have gone through. How dare he presume to face battles bigger than the ones their parents have fought and bled and died for.
They're more creative than his previous peers.
They call him Ruined.
For the first time in his life, Percy starts to honestly resent his scar. He wants to go home. He wants his mom. But Sally worked so hard to get him a placement here, so he bites his tongue and endures. He's gotten good at it.
So Percy is eight and beginning to really notice the way people see him. They way their gaze makes it as far as his Soul-Scar and no further. He's eight and eyeing his mother's concealer, wondering whether it will match his skin tone.
By the time Percy is nine, he's been kicked out of the military school for fighting. Apparently having a soulmate meant he should have let the upper years beat him black and blue. He also owns his own concealer and has gotten very proficient at applying it on the way to the public school he attends in Manhattan. He removes it before he comes home. He doesn't want to know what Gabe will say about guys and makeup.
For the first time in two years, Percy isn't hated and mocked for his Soul-Scar. His peers don't call him Ruined. His teachers don't look at him like his life is over before it's even begun. Instead, no one looks at him at all. He's the resident retard who can't read and can't sit still. Stupid isn't contagious, but no one wants to risk it and so he sits in isolation. He hates himself for preferring this to outright scorn.
For the first time in two years, Percy is forced to realise that even without his Soul-Scar he is a reject of society. He can't help but wonder if his soulmate will hate him too. A small part of him clings desperately to the soulmate myth: unconditional understanding, maybe even love. Another part of him scoffs at the idea of anyone but his mother loving him. His father left. Gabe needs no description. Why would they be any different? The rest of him is left wondering if accepting his soulmate is worth the scorn of the rest of the world, or if he's better off pretending he's normal.
Towards the end of the year, Percy is locked out of his classroom during a torrential downpour. His makeup is supposed to be waterproof, but it's cheap. Everyone sees. He spends the rest of the year hiding from his peers. Surely there is more to life than hiding.
Percy is ten and Sally withdraws him from the school when he comes home with a black eye and a split lip. He breaks down and tells her the whole story. The school denies all knowledge.
Sally half heartedly tries to convince him that he shouldn't have to hide a part of himself. She reminds him of when he was seven and so proud to bear his soulmate's mark. He doesn't say anything. He lets her hold him and he breaks in her arms. She doesn't falter once.
Privately, Percy thinks his scar isn't a part of him. It's a part of someone he hasn't even met, and he can't help but resent the hatred he faces. It's not even his scar.
Privately, Percy thinks seven year old him was both optimistic and naive.
Privately, Sally can't help but resent Percy's soulmate a little for pushing him further away from living. She can see him regressing into a state of survival more and more everyday.
When Percy is ten, a new cosmetic product is released. It's designed for hiding Soul-Scars. It's hardier than concealer and represses the golden glow entirely. He wants it immediately. Sally is hesitant, but after a week of staring at the slowly-healing bruise on Percy's face, she gives in.
Percy is eleven and enrolled in another boarding school. He's known as the Retard, the Idiot, and Freak but no one even thinks to call him Ruined. Even Percy's roommate has no clue about his Soul-Scar.
Some of his teachers hate him. They all think he's a troublemaker. A few of them don't even bother to teach him, giving him up as a lost cause immediately.
Percy thinks he's never been happier.
For a moment, he isn't the kid with the disfigured face and terrible fate. He isn't the weirdo who wears a glowing imitation of another person's scars. Sure, everyone thinks he's dumb, but for Percy being nobody is indefinitely better than being Ruined. He makes it through a day. Then a week. A month. He makes it all the way to the end of the year before an incident occurs. An accident during a field trip to the aquarium results in his class taking an unplanned swim with the sharks. He bumped a lever after being shoved by a classmate. Unsurprisingly, this leads to his expulsion. Everyone always blames the troublemaker, after all.
His mother laughs all the way home. They agree that most of those kids were snobby and deserved it. Besides, the sharks were never going to eat them. They'd already been fed.
Percy is twelve and attending Yancy Academy when things get really weird. For one, he has a teacher who point blank refuses to give up on him. For another, he has a friend. Sure, he's just as much of an outcast as Percy, but Grover doesn't care that it takes Percy longer to read than most, or that he can rarely sit still long enough to try. Percy revels in being about to talk to someone his age without insults being hurled. They both commiserate about being given up on before they've had the chance to really try.
Percy still doesn't show him the scar.
He's seen too many 'nice' people change on a dime at the sight of it. Percy won't risk it. Not with his first friend since he was seven.
Then, things get crazy when his maths teacher tries to kill him.
So Percy is twelve when he meets Luke. He's kept his Soul-Scar covered near permanently since he was ten, but he knows the shape well enough to know that the one on Luke Castellan's face is a perfect match.
He can't bring himself to say anything.
He sees the way Luke is treated. How everyone's eyes slide right past the raised scar like it isn't even there. Like it's normal. Percy has experienced too much hate, too much violence in the six years he's worn the Soul-Scar to welcome his soulmate with open arms.
So he meets his soulmate and can't bring himself to say anything. He does, privately, silently, agree to give Luke a chance to prove himself when he sees him wearing Percy's scars with pride.
Percy is twelve and his father is the God of the Sea. His mother is dead and he has to stay in a cabin by himself. Everyone hates him. They glare at him like he's an omen of doom. A harbinger of death. Everyone but Luke, that is. Luke, who doesn't act like Percy is contaminated, or something particularly nasty on the bottom of his shoe.
Luke, who doesn't see him as some kind of devil who will turn violent at the drop of a hat.
Luke, who treats Percy just like everybody else, and glares at people who don't. Who treats him like he's not stupid or broken or Ruined. Maybe it's because Luke hasn't seen the scar. Either way, Percy falls in love a little more everyday.
"You have soul-scars." Percy says quietly one afternoon, when they're both resting after a sword lesson.
Luke hums quietly before saying, "If they have to deal with a golden imitation of the scar on my face, then I figure the least I can do is wear theirs with pride."
For the first time in years, Percy wishes his scar wasn't covered. He still doesn't say anything.
Percy is twelve and embarking on a deadly quest to save his mom. And return the Master Bolt to Zeus, but mostly to save his mom. He's told he'll be betrayed by a friend, and he can't help but note that he's a little lacking in that department. Still, it's not the first time he's been abandoned by someone he thought he could trust, and he doesn't let it bother him. Refuses to let the cold despair burrow into his heart, even when it's done a superb job of settling under his skin. He spends the entire quest missing Luke.
Annabeth and Grover are amazing. They're incredible and he refuses, point blank rejects the idea that they will betray him. Not after they follow him on his quest. Not after they offer to remain in place of his mom who they've never met and who he has to leave behind he's so sorry please forgive me. Not after they back him up against Ares. Not after they risk boarding a plane with him, even with Zeus' ire clouding the sky. He is twelve and short on friends but he knows that they are the real deal. They will never let him down. They hold his hands throughout the entire flight and a quiet part of him says he should tell them the truth. About his scars. About Luke.
Not yet, another part whispers back. Luke deserves to know first. You owe him that much.
Percy is twelve and the bolt has been restored to Zeus. Grover and Annabeth are safe at camp. The quest is over. It's supposed to be over. Why doesn't it feel like it's over?
Percy can't read the expression on his father's face -not his dad never his dad because a dad is someone who is there- but he thinks there might be traces of pride and sadness. He's not sure if you're allowed to be proud of someone you do not know. Someone you were never there for. His father's gaze, too, rests on his soul-scar, even with it hidden. Percy can't help but resent him a little for it.
He resents him a little more for telling him his birth was a mistake.
"I have admitted my wrongdoing." This is what Poseidon says to Zeus, as though Percy isn't even in the room. Wrongdoing. Like Percy is an offense.
He knows his next offering will be burnt to Hades, for returning his mom she's home she's safe everything will be okay. Poseidon hasn't done anything to deserve his devotion. He will follow him only because of what he meant to his mom.
He goes back to camp, ready to tell Luke the truth. To show him the scar they share. The one that has shaped both of their lives. He's ready to be seen. He just wants to be understood and accepted, is that too much to ask?
So, he goes back to tell Luke. Luke, who barely says three words to him. Luke, who avoids him.
Percy starts dying a little inside. He doesn't say anything.
The summer passes.
No one at camp seems to understand the terror that comes with leaving. With never knowing which moment might be your last. They give them laurel wreaths, celebrate the 'successful quest,' and burn the shrouds they'd made just in case. Percy feels hollow. He wishes he had enough in him to feel scared. He misses Luke, he'd thought he would help.
He spends more time with Grover and Annabeth, all of them hiding from a camp that stares in awe but doesn't actually see. They help each other through it. Slowly, colour returns to his world, and he watches more and more light fill their eyes day by day. He wants to tell them. His jaw aches with the effort of keeping silent.
They sit on the beach, watching the waves lap on the shore. He ignores the connection to his father and instead admires the view. It's quiet.
"I have a secret." This is what he whispers to them. "I have a secret and I can't tell you." His throat burns with the words he chokes back.
"I want to tell you." This is what he doesn't tell them.
They both wrap arms around him in a hug that warms more than just his body.
"Tell us when you are ready." This is what they tell him. There is nothing else to say.
Percy finally tracks Luke down on the last day of camp. He's going to tell him. He has to. He loves Grover and Annabeth too much to leave them in the dark. He will not wait until next summer.
He doesn't care about whatever is going on with Luke. Doesn't want to know why Luke is ignoring him. He also doesn't care that he has no clue how Luke will react. It's not important. He needs to tell his friends.
Besides, at least this way he'll know. At least they'll both know.
They walk into the forest together. Only Percy walks out, stumbles out, crawls out.
He's feverish.
He's dying.
His concealer is still intact.
Percy is twelve, and this is the second time in one summer he has awoken to Chiron and Annabeth's concerned faces. They are wrought with grief. Percy didn't think he would wake up this time at all. Someone runs to get Grover.
"Does he know?" This is what Chiron asks. His soul-scar is on full display, even the concealer only lasts so long. Chiron's gaze never leaves his eyes.
Percy only shakes his head. He wonders, absently, whether Luke will recognise the gold star on his palm for what it is. Annabeth looks at him with tears in her eyes.
"You have a secret." This is what she tells him. "You have a secret and it's killing you inside."
He cannot look away and her gaze never wavers. Grover arrives.
"You have a secret, but you weren't supposed to let it kill you for real." This is what Grover tells him.
Percy sees the way the three of them look at him. At him. Not his scar. He clears his throat.
"I have a secret." This is what he tells them. "I've been carrying it since I was ten. I don't know when it got so heavy.
Annabeth and Grover sit on his bed. Chiron manages a smile. He tells them everything. Something feels lighter.
Somewhere in Manhattan, in a quiet apartment, Sally Jackson smiles.
The three of them understand the marks a hard life leaves behind. More importantly, they are learning the importance of living life, not just surviving it.