Okay, before we get to the chapter, I'd like to thank each and every single one of you for all the reviews, favorites, etc. It means so much to me that people are enjoying the story. So a thank you goes out to all of you wonderful readers!

Chapter 9

Percy Pov

"Nuh uh," I said, arms crossed, eyes staring down the man claiming I was going cross-country with him for a "family visit". I couldn't believe the nerve of some people. To say that I was going to willingly hop on a plane with someone I'd just met within a period of 24 hours was absolutely ludicrous. Let me clue you in, my father, Poseidon Jackson, had the oh-so-wonderful idea to uproot my life-right when things were finally looking up, I might add. He's deluded himself into thinking that things would be all fine and dandy once I got acquainted with the idea of having him back in my life. That things would be better between the both of us once I was introduced to his big, happy family-a family that I nor my mom had been included in, which pretty much sums up why we're standing in an airport, airline tickets to Miami clutched in my father's hand.

"Percy," Poseidon sighed, kneading the bridge of his nose like it were a sticky, lump of dough. He was exasperated after having argued with me over the matter for nearly 20 minutes. His broad shoulders were tensed, and his face appeared to have aged several years in a matter of minutes. It was clear that he thought of my act of defiance as juvenile and a nuisance, a kink in his master plan. But that didn't make a bit of a difference to me; I was putting my foot down on this one. No way was I going to relent, allowing him to extract me from the life I'd built in San Francisco only to start all over again some place else. "please, don't make this any harder than it needs to be. It's merely a little trip to meet the family: your half brothers, your stepmother, and even Blackjack." Blackjack? "I promise you'll be back here before you know it; unless of course, you wish to stay."

"Hmmmm..." I tapped my chin and stroked an invisible beard, pretending to mull it over before shooting him a smug smile. "How 'bout no? That sound good to you?" His sea-green eyes darkened as a fresh veil of anger and annoyance misted the swirls of emerald. Poseidon took a moment to regain his composure, shutting his eyes and inhaling deep breaths in an attempt to dissipate the brew of anger festering inside him like an open wound.

From the outside you probably couldn't tell, but behind my smug smile and childish resistance to his wishes, I was furious with Poseidon, and his blatant disregard for my feelings and decisions. Hadn't he taken my thoughts into consideration? Thought about how I'd handle being ripped away from a place I'd call home? Because in a weird way, California was becoming more like home, not because of the landscape or the scenery, but because of the people. Let's face it, New York will always be where I belong. It was where I grew up, spent some of the most wonderful-and also tragic-years of my life. It's where memories were made, laughs were heard, and life-changing experiences were had. New York shaped my life, but California's saving it. San Francisco's teaching me how to live again, resurrecting me from the zombie that had possessed me upon receiving the news of my mother's tragedy, breathing life back into withering bones. The pangs of sorrow that follow any thought of my mom still hadn't gone away-I doubt they ever will-but somehow, this bustling city and its inhabitants are easing the pain, ebbing away the brunt of the sting until a dull ache is all that remains. And I have them to thank for it.

"We're going to miss our flight." Poseidon tapped his watch, anxiously eyeing our flight terminal. Passengers were already lined up, tickets in hand, and were preparing to board the plane. Carry-ons were slung over shoulders and children wore smiles of elation, thoughts of beautiful beaches and warm weather swimming through their minds. A sense of longing washed over me as my eyes drifted to the smiling, happy families, eager to board so their fun-filled family vacations could begin. I couldn't help but feel envious toward them; crashing waves and warm, beach sand awaited them while a strange family were all for me to look forward to. I wished that the circumstances for my being here were different. That I too was going on a vacation, my mother and maybe even Annabeth and the Chases at my side. Part of my brain conjured up impossible scenarios where this wish could come true. My mother's demise being nothing more than a dream, a nightmare, that could easily be swept away by one of her warm hugs, Annabeth and family having been long-time friends tagging along on the scenic getaway; all of us together, putting those airplane tickets to good use. Not wasting them on a trip I didn't even want to take. The unobtainable fantasy only put a damper on the otherwise good feelings splurging into my heart from merely the acknowledgement of a place that could only be reached in my thoughts.

"Percy!" Triton called, snapping his fingers in front of my face, yanking me out of my thoughts. An annoyed expression was etched on his face, but from the play of his lips, also a hint of amusement. A barely suppressed smile tugged at his lips when his eyes raked over Poseidon, his enjoyment increasing as he took in the sight. Our father had his eyes clenched tightly shut, his fingers massaging at his temples. He had a silly expression on his face-an odd mix between a tight-lipped smile and the I seriously need to use the bathroom face. Or maybe it's the I'm about ten seconds away from back-handing someone in the face face? I've gotten both and, honestly, they're so similar it's hard to be sure which is which.

"As fun as it is to see the old man so worked up," Triton began, tipping his head in Poseidon's direction, "poor guy's gonna have an aneurysm if he has to call your name one more time." He shot me a joking smile before sobering up and saying in a more serious tone, "Listen, I know that you're a little iffy about going on this trip," I shot him a look, and he quickly backtracked. "Okay, really iffy," That's better. "but even though it doesn't seem like it, Dad's truly trying to make this work. You should have seen him when he first got even the tiniest inkling of a clue of your location. He drove himself mad with what-ifs and all the possibilities-the thousands of cities and states that you could be in. And when he finally narrowed it down to right here in Cali, he practically did backflips; I'd never seen him so happy. You might not believe it, but he's a really good guy and an even better dad. And it would mean the would to him-to all of us, really-if you'd at least come down for a visit. You don't have to stay long; right when you're ready to return, I promise you that you'll be back here in just a few short hours. Say the word and I'll have you back here before you can say 'Triton is a sexy beast'."

I cracked a smile. "Never in my life will I say that."

"I don't know, man. This," He gestured down the length of his body, "is a lot to handle. Wavering self-control is understandable." His tone was teasing, and a wry grin played on his lips. "Feel free to drool; I won't judge." I let out a chuckle at that and actually found myself growing fond of my older brother. Aside from the gruff timbre of his voice and intimidating facial aspects, we were greatly alike. Our unique personalities meshed nicely when placed up against one another's, and when he pushes aside his more somber demeanor, Triton was quite the jokester.

"So, what do ya say?" He asked after he stopped dishing out the jests. His voice was hopeful yet I could detect the underlying dread he'd tried to conceal but failed to do so. Triton's face was masked, totally poker-faced-a task I'm sure he did often because he'd mastered art of remaining stoical. His face gave away no emotion nor did his eyes flash with a deluge of feelings cached within the inner workings of his heart. His expression only portrayed a display of calm indifference, as if he didn't care either way whatever the outcome may be. It made me wonder why he was so intent on shrouding his feelings from others. What possessed him to feel the need to hide behind the mask, the sharp, plastic blind that veils his wants like a thick, foggy mist? Was there a reason or was it simply the way my brother was wired?

Contemplating what he'd said, I mulled over his words, his admirable conviction to his father and his drive to appease Poseidon. I admittedly believed that what Triton had stated was true; that indeed our father was a loving and overall kind man; his words had been too convincing to deny that. But a thought nagged at my brain, clawing its way to the forefront until it solely had my undivided attention. If Triton was so expertly skilled at faking apathy, how hard could it be to hide other things as well? How did I know that he wasn't lying, twisting his words into a spiraling tornado that would wreak havoc on my sense of judgment? I didn't. That was the hard part; I didn't know if he was being truthful. I didn't know if he was honest when he'd claimed I could return to San Francisco the moment I stated that I was feeling homesick. I didn't know, and that scared me. But a part of me-the less logical part, I'm sure-wanted to take a stab in the dark, to fly blind, to take a chance... That piece, that crucial piece of me, wanted to trust these people, to reunite with the father and brothers I'd never had; and that was the sole reason that compelled to say, "I've heard Miami is beautiful this time of year."

Triton smiled, and Poseidon exhaled an audible sigh of relief before giving Triton a thankful nod and a smile gushing with fatherly pride.

"Thank you, son," Poseidon exalted.

Triton's smile visibly brightened at his praise. It was actually a peaceful moment, watching father and son conquer a shared undertaking together. Or at least it was until it was interrupted by a shrill, nasally voice booming from the loudspeaker.

"Attention all passengers. Flight 432 to Miami, Florida is now boarding and will be preparing for takeoff in five minutes."

"Shit, we gotta go," Triton exclaimed, hauling up a lime green backpack to be used as his carry-on. As I watched him gather his belongings, a thought struck me, a problem arising in the midst of the chaos of running to our terminal.

"Wait, I don't have any luggage. What am I supposed to wear and stuff when we get there?" I inquired, seemingly the only one concerned about the issue from the looks of it.

"I'm already a step ahead of you, Percy. I asked the Chase's butler, uh... What's his name? William? Wally?" Said Poseidon.

"Walter," I supplied.

"That's it. I dropped by the Chase household, and Walter helped me gather your belongings." He said before pointing to the left, indicating that we'd arrived at the terminal, which I undoubtably would've strode past if it weren't for him pointing it out, housing Flight 432. Poseidon rifled through the tickets before handing them to the attendant perched behind the desk. She scanned the bar codes at the bottom, the machine eliciting beeps after each one was swiped beneath its red beam of light. She offered up a friendly smile before gesturing to the door to her right.

"Right this way, please," She said. "Enjoy your flight."

The three of us boarded the plane and found a row of three seats near the back. After carefully sliding our carry-on luggage beneath our seats, we buckled up and prepared for takeoff. Or at least everyone else was preparing for takeoff, I, on the other hand, was dreading it. You see, I may or may not have a not-so-small fear of flying. It all started back when my mom's parents were still alive. They lived in Alabama and were planning on flying in to visit my mom and I up in New York, but on their way there, the plane underwent some...complications. The pilot had lost course and unintentionally flown them straight into a thunderstorm blowing full force. A searing bolt of lighting had struck the plane, the electric, serpentine rivets shorting-out its power and sending the entirety of the plane-the cockpit included-into a power outage. The heaving hunk of metal dropped from the sky in a free fall, as if a stone had been dropped over the Grand Canyon and was falling and falling and-you guessed it-falling. Sadly, they hadn't survived the crash, and to this day, I've maintained a steady and almost unhealthy fear of airplanes. In my opinion, several hundred thousand pounds of metal shouldn't even be near the sky, let alone flying in it like a wannabe bird.

My hands clutched the armrests, knuckles turning a sickly white from clutching them in my iron grip. My palms became clammy, moistened by a translucent sheen of perspiration, but I refused to dry them on my pant-legs, for fear that I let go and the plane will sink like a rock the moment I do.

Suddenly, the engines roared, and we began to accelerate, increasing speed faster and faster until the plane was thrust into the air like it were weightless. Grip tightening until my hands stung from the rough bite of the plastic, stomach wrung as tight and braided as a rope, and heart hammering against my ribs, I mentally prepared for the feel of weightlessness and the torrent of terror sure to emerge. A tap on my shoulder sent me jerking into the side of the plane, exposing me to the roaring runway that was getting smaller and more miniscule by the second. Oh, Gods. It had been a terrible idea taking the window seat.

"Hey, Perce. You okay, man? Seem kinda jittery?" Triton's voice carried beside me, but I couldn't focus on the words, only the rising altitude and imminent doom that had settled unpleasantly in my gut.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I replied half-heartedly, a distinguishable waver evident in my voice.

Triton's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes drifted over me, assessing my tense posture and the panicked expression adorning my face. "You sure?" He asked, obviously seeing through my anything but authentic attempt at convincing him. "You look a little pale."

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

He nodded at my hands, which, despite my snake-like grip, still trembled violently. Triton glanced back up at my face before saying, "Your as pale as a ghost, your pouring sweat like it's your own personal water fountain, and your gripping that poor armrest so tight you're bound to dislodge it from the seat."

I nodded. "Yeah, I know; I probably should have mentioned that I have a terrible fear of flying."

"You know what, that would have been very useful information to have about ten minutes ago." His voice held a teasing lilt, but I could pick up that he was being partially serious. "Why didn't you say anything? We could've cancelled the flight and took a road trip or bought you some anti-anxiety pills or something."

"Triton's right, Percy," Poseidon's deep tenor rumbled farther to my left. He was seated beside Triton flipping through a magazine, but when I looked up at him, his magazine was long forgotten and a worried look contorted onto his face. The concern-filled expression brought out latent wrinkles-commonly unnoticed when his face lay relaxed. After further inspection of my ram-rod straight back and white pallor, he flagged down a stewardess with a wave of his hand.

"Is there something I can help you with?" The woman asked once she weaved her way down the aisle to our row.

"Yes," Poseidon began, "my son is not feeling well. By any chance could he get a glass of water?"

The stewardess' warm smiled melted away as she took in the lack of color in my complexion. Worry must be contagious because everyone around seemed to absorb the emotion like an airborne illness. Her chocolate, brown eyes darkened with concern, and she rushed off before returning with a cup of ice water. She handed me the cool, crystal clear liquid; and I guzzled it down, urging the nausea to evaporate from a single sip, as if the water were a magic, healing elixir-an ambrosia. "Just try to relax. Close your eyes, take deep breaths, put your head between your knees. But just in case," She handed me a white barf bag.

"Excuse me, miss." A voice called from the front of the plane.

The stewardess smiled at me reassuringly, a warm twitch of the lips, before murmuring a quick 'Just call if you need anything else' over her shoulder before maneuvering her way back up to the front of the plane from which the voice came.

The rustling of fabric reached my ears over to my left. Shifting my eyes over to the noise, I found Poseidon, carry-on placed in his lap, hunched over to peer into the opening of the bag. He sifted through its contents before muttering 'Ah ha' and pulled out a tiny, pill bottle. Twisting off the cap and tilting it sideways, the lip perched over his palm, he shook the bottle, the pills rattling in the container; until its contents spilled into his palm. Poseidon lifted up a pill, no larger than my pinky nail, and placed it into my awaiting hand. I didn't even hesitate to ask what it was; I simply settled it on my tongue and tossed it back with a splash of water.

"It's a sleeping pill," Poseidon explained, having realized that I didn't ask and nor did I plan to. "It'll help you relax enough to fall asleep."

I nodded, confirming that I understood, before leaning my head back on the headrest and closing my eyes. You're not going to crash. That quickly became my mantra, and I repeated it over and over, holding on to the smallest shred of security it provided, taking solace in the calm that washed over me. Either the mantra was a magic spell or the pills were starting to kick in. I felt my eyelids droop, my fingers loosen their death-grip on the armrest, and the horrifying scenes of plane crashes cease. Tranquility, soothing and comforting like a thick, wool blanket, lay over me like a second skin. It was calming, and the perfect remedy for slowing the erratic jackhammering of my heart. Moments later sleep began permeating into my body, and I willingly let myself succumb to it.

"Percy." Someone was jostling me, disrupting my for once dreamless sleep. Their voice was rattling off something about arriving. Where, I didn't know. I peeled open my eyes and was startled to find that I was on an airplane, its passengers all gone sans two people beside me. Where was I? Before I seriously began panicking, my brain decided to stop being lazy and wake up from its hibernation, and that's when it all came back to me. I was in Florida-Miami, to be exact-and was minutes away from meeting his family, including the sole reason why he'd left my mom in the first place. His no doubt skanky secretary who works the reception desk at Poseidon's cruise line company, Tidal Wave. I wasn't the least bit excited to make her acquaintance, but I was excited to meet my other half-brothers.

"I'm up," I muttered, my voice hoarse from hours of disuse. I collected my belongings and scootched out of the row, following Triton and Poseidon off the plane. The airport was crowded with people, clusters of them spread to and fro, reading their travel times, getting coffee and a snack from the little cafes; or gathering their luggage from baggage claim.

We sped through the process, claiming our luggage and whatnot, and piled into a silver SUV parked out in the lot. The ride to the house was spent in comfortable silence, granting me the opportunity to soak it all in. And I've got to say, the place was awfully beautiful. Everywhere you looked, palm trees stretched up ten feet high, their palms swaying in the sea breeze. Long stretches of beach spanned out for miles, its grains of sand a pale tan, and the sun reflected off the water in a breathtaking array of color. Beach-goers lay lounging on the sand, tanning their bodies until they were a golden bronze. Some splashed in the sparkling, blue water while others played an intense match of beach volleyball until they were drenched in sweat. Children played in the sand, constructing castles and mighty fortresses with the microscopic grains. As much as I hated to admit it, this place wasn't nearly as bad as I'd assumed-and hoped-it would be.

Although he didn't say anything, I saw Poseidon crack a smile as he watched me inconspicuously-or so he thought-in the rearview mirror, giddy that he noticed my overall enjoyment as I absorbed the beautiful, scenic hotspot. In truth, it was by far one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen, and I found that I liked it far more than I cared to admit. I didn't want to like it, I really didn't, but when your faced with a sight so magnificent it can only be compared to a mirage-a figment of the imagination-it's impossible to feel anything but awe.

My eyes never left the sight until the gorgeous view was obstructed by towering buildings lining the street, the image replaced by the everyday sight of strip malls and retail stores. The mediocre scene didn't exactly pique my interest like the ocean view had, and I drew my eyes away, their gaze staring out into space until I felt the car come to a halt. Looking up from the random focal point, I lifted my eyes and found that we'd arrived at the Poseidon household.

"Home sweet home." Poseidon turned around in the driver's seat to send me a smile before sliding out of the SUV. Triton and I followed suit.

Surprise deluged my chest as my eyes raked over the house. It was by no means a mansion nor was it like a tiny, secluded log cabin in the woods; it was a happy medium between over the top and Chihuahua playhouse. Also, the house wasn't nearly as flashy as I'd previously anticipated a multimillionaire's house to be, but a medium-sized, modest, average-looking home. Ocean blue paint covered all two stories of the home, perfectly accentuating the snow-white shutters. A wrap-around porch wound around the perimeter of the house, the wood glossy and not at all rough or brittle. It was the perfect concoction to creating a low-profile yet still charming home, and it was all wrapped up in a quaint cul-de-sac several miles down from the saltwater shores of the beach.

The surrounding neighborhood was rather small and a bit isolated from the rest of the hustle and bustle outside its circular expanse, but that was expected from a man who had his face plastered on magazines, cameras thrust in his face in an attempt to at least get a glimpse at one of the wealthiest men in the country. It was expected that he'd keep his whereabouts on the down low.

Having noticed Poseidon and Triton unloading the SUV, I walked over and assisted them with the luggage, noticing a familiar navy blue backpack stuffed to the brim among the cluster of suitcases. True to his word, Poseidon had indeed gathered a few of my belongings-hopefully among them are the necessities for spending the next few days lying on a beautiful beach and soaking up the sun. I grasped the strap of the backpack, hauling it on my shoulder, before picking up several more bags.

It's only for a few days, I told myself as my eyes grazed over the house once again. A sigh puffed its way out of my throat in a swift gust of air, the sound of dissatisfaction swept away by the breeze and rustling of leaves, going unheard by Poseidon's ears. Throwing a quick glare at the house, I strode forward.

Even before I reached the threshold, a gut-feeling-a premonition-swirled and festered inside me. Even before I entered the home, I knew that something was going to happen-for better or worse, I didn't know. And even before I'd stepped on the porch, I knew that this trip would turn out to be so much more than just a family visit.

Wow, well isn't that just a bleak way of ending the chapter? But to answer any questions, yes, something will happen during Percy's stay in Miami. I can't tell you what it is though because that would be a major spoiler...and because I haven't written it yet so I still have to work out a few kinks here and there. Now, onto another topic. I know some of you might not be too pleased with Percy going with his father to Miami, but for the plot's sake, it is necessary. This trip will help fill in a few gaps and will overall help the plot progress. Also, I'm sorry if my description of that particular area of Florida isn't accurate or is sub-par, but I've never been there so it was kind of difficult for me to give it precise detail.

I also wanted to answer a few questions that I'd received last chapter. This one doesn't exactly need an answer, as it was answered in the chapter, but yes, Percy does go to Miami with his father. No, Annabeth doesn't know she's in love with Percy...yet. I added certain thoughts in her head last chapter to help show that her heart is developing feelings for him, but her head can't quite comprehend what they are. She definitely knows there is something about him that she feels she doesn't want to be without, but at this point in the story, what that is is unknown to her.

Geez, that was a long author's note. So much for keeping things short and sweet. :)

Thanks for reading,

~TwistedTrident~

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