Hi guys! Happy new year!
I wanted to have this chapter posted much earlier, but the last few days have been busier than I thought they would. I would like to get maybe one more update in before the semester starts on Monday. Also, if anyone is interested, I started with the rewriting I mentioned wanting to do with CME. I have through Logan's birth rewritten already and I plan to continue conquering chapters when I have time.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm not sure it came out anything like I meant it to, but I don't think it's terrible. It's so strange to write Percy as a parent though. The kids were so young last time. It's a different dynamic with them now!
"How was the museum?" I asked Logan, walking with him from the Metropolitan Museum of Art to my parked car a block away. Oak Grove Junior High had sent their seventh graders on an end of the year field trip today and I had arranged to pick him up there after work while I was in the city. The irony of the situation was not lost on me.
"It was pretty cool," he answered, "But the guy who showed us the Greek and Roman exhibits had no idea what he was talking about."
I smirked. "Yeah, they usually don't."
"And I don't get how some of those paintings are worth millions of dollars. I guess some of them are nice, but a lot of them I think the Apollo kids could have done better."
I laughed. "That's probably true."
"Yeah. But it was a good trip, I guess. I liked it better than sitting in school all day."
"I don't blame you there," I said, unlocking the car. Logan climbed in the passenger seat.
"Are we still going to Grandma and Grandpa's?" he asked.
"Yeah," I answered, "We're already here. I don't want to take you home and then drive all the way back to Manhattan."
He nodded. "What do you have to do there again?"
"Their kitchen sink is broken. It's been leaking all over the floor. I said I'd help fix it before there's a flood."
"Isn't the landlord guy supposed to do that?"
"Yeah, he is, but he's on vacation this week and they haven't been able to get a hold of him. Grandpa can fix it, but he can't take the plumbing apart if the water is still running in the apartment."
"So what are you gonna do then?"
I smirked, stopping at a traffic light. "Stop the water."
Logan looked at me, a grin spreading across his face. "You mean you're gonna use your powers?"
"Yeah. I can hold the water back while Grandpa takes the pipes apart so it doesn't spray everywhere."
"Cool," he said. He sounded so impressed by the idea. "I wish I could do that."
"Maybe you will one day," I told him, "Everyone's powers are different. And it takes practice." So far, Logan's abilities over water seemed relegated mostly to open sources of it, like lakes or the ocean. When provoked, he had made a water fountain explode in elementary school though, so maybe one day he'd be able to control plumbing too. Although the fact that he, as a legacy, had any ability over water was impressive. Second generation half-bloods normally did not inherit powers.
Nicholas, so far, seemed to lack the skill. He could just manage small ripples if he focused extremely hard, but it was nothing compared to his brother. It was a sore point between the boys.
Logan nodded, considering my words, and then looked out the window. "Dad," he said after a few minutes, looking back at me, "This morning when Mom dropped me off she had this weird smile on her face. I asked her what was so funny and she said to ask you about your field trip to the Met. What was she talking about?"
I chuckled. "When I was in sixth grade, my class went to the Met. I didn't know I was a half-blood yet and while we were there, I got attacked by a Fury."
"What?" he enunciated. "You've been attacked by a Fury?"
"Yeah," I said, "You didn't know that?"
"No. What happened?"
"She was disguised as my math teacher. She pulled me aside after I soaked Nancy Bobofit with the fountain outside. I thought she was going to give me detention. I was pretty surprised when she tried to kill me."
"How did you kill her?"
"Chiron—he was my Latin teacher, remember?" Logan nodded, "He threw me a pen and when I caught it, it was a sword."
"That was Riptide, wasn't it?"
"Yeah it was. He didn't tell me that though. For a minute, I really thought he expected me to kill the thing with a pen." Logan laughed. He was enjoying the story quite a bit. I shook my head, grinning at the memory. "I thought I had lost my mind."
"How many monster attacks did you have before you found out about everything?"
"Just two. That one and the night I got to camp," I answered.
"Oh," he said, looking thoughtful, "Um, do the Furies normally attack half-bloods?"
"No. They usually stay down in the Underworld. Alecto came after me because the Helm of Darkness had been stolen along with the Master Bolt and everyone thought I had it."
"But you didn't." He knew the details surrounding the quest for Zeus' bolt. I could see him putting them together with this new information.
"Of course not. I had no idea what was happening."
"You had to fight a lot of monsters when you were younger, didn't you? Like a lot, a lot."
"Yeah, I did. It was different back then. The wars caused a lot more monsters than normal, and even after they were over, it took a few years to get the numbers back under control again."
"I've only been attacked that one time," Logan said quietly. "And I've known about everything for years." When he started sixth grade, a Laistrygonian giant had caught up with him at school and he'd narrowly avoided suspension when Oak Grove's art room had been destroyed. He'd been eleven, which still seemed very young, even if though he was more than capable. "I mean, I fight monsters at camp sometimes, but that's not really the same thing."
"Be grateful," I told him seriously, "You've been really lucky. It'll get worse as you get older, but for now I'm glad you haven't had to fight many on your own. I know it sounds cool in stories, but growing up like that isn't easy, Logan. I don't want that for you."
"I know, Dad. I am grateful." He glanced sideways at me, "I just think it would be cool to have awesome stories too."
"You will," I assured him. "And trust me, in a few years you'll probably be just as sick of fighting monsters as I am." He just smiled and looked out the window again.
My mom answered the door for us a few minutes later, looking happy to see us as well as relieved that her kitchen would finally be fixed. Logan hugged her and then eyed her hopefully. "Do you have cookies?" he asked.
She just smiled. "They're waiting for you in the kitchen."
"Yes! Thanks, Grandma!" he said in delight, and took off.
She watched him go and then looked at me. "He reminds me so much of you." I smiled. "Thank you for coming," she said, "I think the leaking's gotten worse since yesterday."
"Yeah, no problem," I told her, walking with her into the apartment, toward the kitchen where Logan had vanished.
"Easy there," Paul cautioned halfheartedly as we walked in, "Don't eat too many of those. Your mom won't be happy if you don't eat dinner later." He sat at the kitchen table, watching his grandson. Logan stood in front of the counter, where a fresh plate of blue chocolate chip cookies sat as promised. My stepdad looked highly amused.
"I'll eat dinner," Logan assured him easily, grabbing another.
"Oh," Paul said, smirking, "Well, I guess it's okay then." The sarcasm in this statement was undeniable. He looked at me. "Hey, good to see ya."
"Hi," I grinned and then looked at Logan myself. "How many of those have you had already? We've been here thirty seconds."
He held up the cookie in his hand. "This is only my third," he defended.
"And it's your last too," I told him.
"But—"
"You'll thank me later. You know your mom's gonna ask and I'm not lying for you." Logan was going through a growth spurt, which, for a couple weeks now, had him devouring everything in sight. Even if and when he did eat dinner later, Annabeth would still kill him, and by extension me, if she knew he had more than that.
"Okay," he sighed dramatically and threw himself down in the chair next to his grandfather.
Paul looked amused. "You want to get started?" he asked me.
"Sure," I said.
Under the sink, a bucket stood, catching the water that dripped from the plumbing at an alarming rate. A number of cleaning products and other things that normally resided under the sink had taken up residence on the counter next to it to make room.
I clenched my hand at my side and instantly felt the water inside the pipes halt and recede. The leaking stopped and Paul grinned at me. "I appreciate those powers of yours more and more," he said, crouching down and removing the bucket to allow him room to work. "Want to help?" he asked, looking back at Logan, who was watching from his seat in mild interest.
The twelve-year old shrugged and then stood. "What do we have to do?"
"See all these pipes down here?" Paul explained, "They're pretty old and the seals on the joints here are worn away. That's why the water leaks out. We have to take these pipes apart and reseal them."
I watched as the two set to work, leaning against the counter and staying out of the way. My job was easy and required little thought. I could have helped, but Paul had all the assistance he needed. I glanced at my mom. She was watching her husband and grandson work from the doorway with a pleased smile.
"Perce," Paul said then, "Hand me that wrench there, would you?"
I looked where he pointed and grabbed the tool that sat on the countertop. "No problem."
Logan watched him work in fascination, handing him tools and parts when asked. When the first of the pipes came out, Paul let him seal the inside. "How do you know this stuff?" Logan asked him.
"My uncle was a plumber," he explained, "I worked with him a little before college. Picked up a few tricks."
"Cool."
It took maybe half an hour to complete the job. My mom disappeared for a while and then came back. Logan never lost interest. He liked learning how things worked and it was a good experience for him. Paul let him tighten the joints, and when he double-checked the work, smiled. "Good job!" Logan beamed.
"Alright, Big Guy," he said, sitting back when they finished a minute later, "That's it. Moment of truth; let's see if our work holds water. Go ahead, Percy." Slowly, I unclenched my fist and gradually let the water flow back under the sink. We all waited, watching. The seals held fast. Paul grinned and high-fived Logan. "Nice work!"
Logan, looking pleased, stood up. "Thank you for your help," my mom said, hugging him. He smiled at her. "Oh!" she said suddenly, "There's something I want to show you. Come here." Curious, he followed after her.
Paul stood and rinsed the grime from the plumbing off his hands. He smiled at me. "Thanks for letting him help you," I said, "He enjoyed that."
"Of course. You know I can't resist your kids."
I laughed. "I know."
He clapped me on the shoulder. "Thanks for your help too. It's probably not as much fun as creating hurricanes, but we couldn't have done anything without you. I appreciate it."
"Yeah, no problem."
I glanced at the clock on the stove. It was still about an hour before the worst of rush hour but it was getting late. Paul noticed. "You have to get going soon," he noted.
"Yeah. I know we just got here but I told Annabeth we'd be home before dinner. I'm hoping to beat traffic."
"Don't worry about it," Paul said, "We understand. And you're all coming over for dinner this weekend, aren't you?"
"I think so, yeah."
"That's good. I promised Nicky I'd play checkers with him."
I laughed. "He'll hold you to that."
He smiled, "Shall we go see what trouble those two are getting into?"
My mom was in the living room with Logan, a book open before them. He held a small square of paper in his hands and they were looking at it together. "Dad, look!" he said when we walked in. He held it out to me.
I crossed the small room and took it. It was an old ultrasound photo of Logan, a few months before he was born. I smiled, glancing up at my mom. "I can't believe you still have this."
"I forgot I did. I found it sticking out of an old photo album yesterday."
"Do we have pictures like this at home?" Logan asked me.
"Um, we used to. The doctor gave them to us every month before you guys were born. I bet we do. You'll have to ask Mom where they are though." I looked at the picture again and shook my head. "Gods, this was twelve years ago." It didn't feel even remotely that long.
My mom laughed. "Now you know how the rest of us old people feel."
"Thanks a lot," I said. Logan was still standing next to me. I looked at him. "You ready to go? If we don't leave soon, we'll never make it home."
He nodded. "Can I have one more cookie?" he asked hopefully.
I smirked. "I suppose, yeah."
"Yes!"
I followed him into the kitchen—to ensure he really did only have one more—and grabbed a cookie for myself as well. "Take them home with you," my mom suggested, smirking in the doorway, "Gods know we don't need them." Logan looked at me expectantly.
I rolled my eyes, smiling. "Alright."
A few minutes later, Logan and I stood at the door, loaded down with a dozen blue cookies. "Thank you so much for getting those pipes fixed," my mom said, hugging us, "I can put my kitchen back together now."
"No problem, Mom. See ya, Paul."
"Bye, Percy. We'll see you all Saturday." They both hugged Logan goodbye.
A few minutes later, as we got in the car, Logan looked at me. He'd been quiet since we'd left my parents' apartment. "Did you know Grandpa knew how to do that stuff?" he asked.
"Yup. I helped him out a few times when I was younger." I smiled. "More than once it was my fault the plumbing broke in the first place."
"But he's an English teacher."
"So?"
"I don't know. It's just surprising, I guess."
"That he can do both?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. Like, it's cool."
"It is cool. And it's important to be able to do more than one thing, especially when you're like us. At camp, being great at sword fighting and Pegasus riding is well and good, but it won't get you very far in the mortal world."
"Like Mom with architecture?"
"Exactly. She's the best battle strategist I know, and that was really useful when we were fighting wars, but her boss and clients don't care about that. What matters to them is that she can design awesome buildings." Annabeth and I made a point of giving our kids the best chance we could at normal lives. There was a lot of pressure on the boys, and Carly too one day, as our children and we wanted them to know they didn't have to live up to anyone's expectations but their own.
"What about when you're fighting monsters?" he asked.
"Well, yeah, that's different. That's why you need both kinds of skills. Godly skills are necessary in the gods' world, and regular skills are necessary in the mortal one. We need both because we're part of both."
"Well I learned some normal skills today," Logan summed up, "But I still want to control water like you someday."
I smiled. "I want to you to too. But even if you don't, there's nothing wrong being a little normal."
He nodded. "I know that." And I could tell that he did.
Thanks for reading! Please review!
