Rated: T, for pretty obvious reasons.

Trigger Warnings (TW): Mentions of medication, swearing, disturbing thoughts, Percy being just too adorable for words, blood (but not necessarily gore), possibly panic attacks, and the usual innuendos that come with Poseidon being a total asshat with a thing for vagina among other sexual organs.

Pairings: Canon Olympian pairings, ones that go along with the original mythology—such as Hera/Zeus. There'll be some implied stuff, of course, like past Poseidon/Sally, past Athena/Poseidon, but it's mainly focused on Poseidon and Percy's father-son relationship. We'll see where it goes from there.

Spoilers: None, as far as I know.

Disclaimer: Don't own jack, man. But Riordan definitely owns my soul.


Chapter Three: Titan


The first thing he did later that night—when Percy was distracted in the living room, eyes glued to the TV like it was the Holy Grail—was call his father. "Why didn't you tell me I was going to an insane asylum?" He might have had to pass the opportunity if he'd known.

The cold, dispassionate voice from the other line made him flinch—the very sound of it nails screeching on a chalkboard. "I wouldn't say it's an insane asylum, son." An emotionless chuckle, the crackling hit of whisky flowing over ice. Poseidon was positive it was whisky from the years of him filling his father's glass and making sure to never spill a drop. "I warned you that it was different."

"You did no such thing." Kronos hadn't; Poseidon would've remembered. Kronos Olympia had a way with words—every single one of them, from the seemingly unimportant word "of" to the phrase "get your shit together" or even the ever-famous "you're fired". The way his father spoke, the phrases he chose, the actions he expressed—they were all very memorable. Freakishly so. One well-placed glare and a few pointed mutters and he had you under the conference table, sobbing over the phone as you begged your mommy to come pick you up and take you home. Never mind that you hadn't lived with your mother for years and hated her more than you hated your ex-wife. It was even worse when it came to children instead of grown-ups with miserable lives.

That was a nightmare.

His father had never had the capacity to handle kids. Poseidon knew this from personal experience, because while the man had never been abusive, he had liked to use them as he pleased. Whether it was for publicity, fetching him his drink, or even entertaining his guests—Kronos had found many uses for his kids. All four of them. Hestia, the eldest. Hades, the oldest boy. Zeus, the precious Mommy's boy who'd left with her after the divorce. And then him, the youngest. The Daddy's boy, believe it or not. He had fetched him his drinks, tended to his annoying guests with his sister, took over Zeus' chores once he'd left, and "ooh"ed at all the right times when Kronos was explaining some big business idea Poseidon still to this day didn't understand. He might've attended college, but Kronos was on a completely different level.

Of course, he wasn't like that anymore, but having been Kronos's favorite, still being his favorite… Well, he had a large sum of money, more than Hades' and Hestia's combined. And that was all thanks to him doing odd jobs when his father needed them done. Odd jobs usually involving lots of hand shaking and false, pretty smiles.

In return for favors he got huge wads of cash, a nearly limitless debit card that drained not his bank but his father's, and other perks. Like his own house. Two cars. Three televisions. A summer home down in Florida. He had enough money that he was even thinking about getting a pool put in.

And the things his father didn't let him buy (useless, inappropriate things, he called them) he bought with the money he made from the occasional surfing tournament or poker game.

"Look, Poseidon," the business man said sharply, "I understand that it wasn't what you anticipated. But believe me, you'll be handsomely rewarded for this." Damn right he was going to be.

"I'd hope so." Publicity may be Poseidon's specialty, but that didn't mean he was excited about the prospect of spending time at the halfway home. Especially with Zeus threatening to crush him if he made one wrong move too soon. A lot would be on his head if he screwed up. For this, he should at least be paid double his usual amount.

They chatted casually for a while, going over payment options, before his father asked him a question that put him on edge. That, if answered incorrectly, could endanger his pay.

"What's your angle?"

Of course Kronos, a man of paranoia, wanted to know what Poseidon had in mind for their publicity stunt. And what he had in mind… He wasn't sure his father would approve.

It was a risky deal, especially with a kid like Percy. Adults knew how to keep their mouths shut, and they knew how to fake their walk and talk and even their smiles. People over the age of twenty learned quickly that if you wanted to find your place in the world, you had to bat your eyelashes to get there.

Children didn't quite get that. And that caused them to talk. Often enough with no filter, and Percy obviously didn't have one of those.

So yeah, Poseidon could imagine how this was going to go. "I was…planning on, uh, inviting someone to stay at my house for a while. A night or two. Get to know them as well as I can in the limited amount of time. Try and 'understand' the life they live." They'd done stuff like this before. But not with mentally disturbed kids.

He hoped (though doubted) that his father wouldn't ask. Even though he always did—his lack of trust was wounding, but understandable enough. Kronos Olympia didn't trust anyone. Couldn't since Rhea had left years ago.

Kronos let out a scoff, a hint of an annoyed growl trailing off towards the end. No such luck, then. "I hope you're not talking about a service woman." No, not that. For once.

"A child, Father. Not a woman."

Silence.

For a moment, Poseidon thought the man had hung up—not even the sound of pen hitting paper or the slurp of whisky could be heard.

"I see." And that was that. No scolding. No warnings. Nothing. Clearly, Kronos could see the profit in this. The press would go wild if they found out Poseidon Olympia had welcomed a child into his home. Despite what people might think, Poseidon didn't bring a lot of people into his home. If this worked and the public found out that he did it out of the kindness of his heart fromPercy himself... A lot more people would be warming up to all of Kronos' businesses. Even the not-so-clean and green ones.

But if Percy spoke bad of him...

The call ended with two mechanical goodbyes and the sudden rush of responsibility so strong Poseidon felt like he was choking on it.

-P-J-O-

He was a cute kid, Poseidon thought, despite the biting attitude. A quiet one, but cute nonetheless. His body sat ramrod straight, his back pressed firmly against the back couch cushion. Fingers still chubby with youth clutched at the pillow resting in his lap, knuckles turning whiter and whiter till Poseidon was sure the bones were going to split clean through his skin. His obedient, green gaze refused to leave the television screen—they'd been like this ever since he'd told him he was going to go make a phone call.

He had a feeling the youngster had overheard the whole conversation. Percy looked way too guilty. And a bit hurt, too.

Suddenly, with a bizarre sense of shame, he wondered if the insane asylum crack had offended him. "It's not polite to eavesdrop, you know." Percy looked up gradually, eyebrows raised in defiance.

"I wasn't eavesdropping; you're just loud," he defended in that unnaturally hushed, wispy voice of his. Poseidon easily caught the lie. Kid couldn't fib for shit.

"Nice try, kid, but those doors," he pointed to the double doors of the kitchen, "are thick. And that TV is on so loud I don't think you could've heard me even if I shouted. Were you listening at the door?" Percy simply shrugged, eyes trained on the spot above of his head instead of looking into his eyes. He exhaled noisily. "Right, okay." He didn't think it would do anything to yell at him.

"Just don't do it again." The child just gave a slight, unsatisfactory nod, his gaze already turned back to the television. Poseidon didn't know what to say, but figured it didn't matter. It wasn't like Percy was spending more than a night or two here. It wasn't as if this brat could be his kid or anything. Definitely not. "Alright then." He plopped down onto the couch next to him, his own posture far more relaxed than the boy's. The kid flinched; he pretended not to notice.

They sat there for possibly five minutes. Percy never strayed from the TV, and he just stared up at the ceiling, tracing patterns.

Fuck, he didn't know what he was doing. That trip should have been so simple. It would've been, if it weren't for the green-eyed boy that looked a little too much like him. The green-eyed boy that just happened to be Sally Jackson's son. Sally Jackson, who was actually dead, by the way—who had been dead for years. How, he wasn't sure. Honestly, he didn't want to know. He didn't even want to care. It wasn't his job to care. He huffed a sigh, giving his head a slight shake. His eyes slid over to the child next to him. Percy wasn't looking at him. Purposely wasn't, he noted. The seven year-old was now holding the pillow against his chest, resting his chin on it and still focusing all of his attention towards the screen.

"What are you watching?" It was a cutesy cartoon, with what seemed like a huge mansion, with strange little creatures flitting around. Loud voices, made more blaring by the volume of the TV itself, made Poseidon cringe. Personally, he didn't see the appeal, but the kid seemed to like it. Percy turned his head towards him, brows furrowed and a puzzled green glancing up at him through fringe.

"Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends," Percy muttered. (1) Poseidon put on his best interested facial expression, a slight quirk to his lips. Okay, this could work. Light conversation that didn't lead to awkward silence or screaming or, even worse, crying. He didn't know how to deal with a bawling kid. Well, other than smothering them with a pillow, but that didn't seem very appropriate. He was supposed to bring back Percy breathing, and he doubted Sally would appreciate seeing her son again under such conditions. The thought made him cringe.

It was best not to think of that.

"What's your favorite character?" he asked. Percy gave him a look, as if it was obvious.

"Bloo." The boy pointed to blue, ghost-looking blob on the screen, a slight grin marring his features.

"Why Bloo?"

"He's blue," Percy answered simply, as if it explained everything. And for a kid, he guessed it did. He and Percy babbled about the silly little show until it was mutually decided that it was time for dinner.


Monsters of a Different Mold


It smelled really good. That's all Percy cared about. Like, mouth-watering, tummy-rumbling, blue-cookie-worthy, lick-it-off-the-floor-if-it-falls, five-second-rule smell good. For all his faults, Poseidon could cook. Pots and pans were lying around, chicken and peppers and mushrooms and dried tomatoes (Oh god.) simmering and pasta boiling. Some strange looking sauce was cooling, it's heavy scent of garlic making him nearly drool. It might have been a variation of Alfredo. Poseidon was mincing an onion down to nearly microscopic pieces.

All that managed to pass his lips was an overwhelmed, "We could have just ordered pizza." Poseidon shook his head. Percy thought he saw an eye-roll.

"No matter who you are, kid, you're my guest. What kind of host would I be if I didn't cook you a homemade dinner?"

"I dunno, a normal one?" This had to be extremely expensive. All these ingredients looked top-of-the-line, and from going to the grocery store with Chiron—his caretaker, the one who drove him to the facility every day and had agreed to let him stay here—many times before Percy knew how much fresh products cost.

Too much, that's how much. Especially since Poseidon didn't look like much of a gardener—there was no way he had gotten most of the ingredients from his backyard. It was all clearly store bought. At least sixty dollars, considering it looked like he was cooking for six people instead of two. Now, Percy was a big eater, yeah, but he had learned the hard way that portions were important. It would save a lot of money and time if the food lasted for three days instead of only one. Poseidon didn't look like the saving kind of guy. He'd probably shovel it down his throat 'til he burst. Much like Luke, Travis, and Conner did when they came back from football practice. Chiron always got so mad at them...

Percy's stomach churned sickeningly.

"Hey," Poseidon's voice made him jump. "You okay there?" Percy peered up at, taking in the mildly concerned look on the older man's face.

"A pizza would've been cheaper. There's no way Mr. D will pay you back for something like my dinner." Poseidon stared.

"Is that what you're so panicked about?" He snorted, running a hand through his hair. "You had me worried, Jackson! Thanks a lot." After sliding the onions into the skillet from the plastic cutting board, the man moved to wipe off his hands.

"I don't want you wasting your food on me." Suddenly, Percy found himself being glared at. Poseidon turned off everything on the stove, an angry frown marring his features.

"I'm not wasting my food on anyone." Poseidon sighed, forehead wrinkled. His hands stilled from where he was draining the pasta. "Are you going to eat it?" Percy nodded quickly. Pasta was put back into the pot it was first boiled in.

"Well, yeah—"

"Then I don't see any problems with me fixing food for you. You're a child, and my guest, as previously mentioned. You don't have to worry about me spending money on you. Money isn't an issue." Poseidon put all of the ingredients into the still hot pasta sauce, then carefully poured it over the noodles. "Besides, it was my idea for you to come here. You're my responsibility; Dionysus would kill me if I didn't take care of you." The man stirred the concoction until it was all mixed in.

Percy gaped. "But..."

"The only butts we need are the ones we will use for sitting at the dinner table." He took out two plates, heaping huge amounts into the both of them. He handed one into the startled hands of Percy, letting him sit it down onto the table before grabbing forks from the drawer. He passed him one of those as well. "Now eat, Percy, and don't burn yourself."

That was the first time the man had ever called him by his first name, and it only made him slightly uncomfortable. It was a start, he guessed.

Poseidon slid down into the chair across from him, eyeing him carefully. He blinked. "What?" Was there something on his face? He didn't think so. Medusa had scrubbed at him until he felt like his skin had been peeled off. She had insisted that a pretty face like his should look it's best when around someone of such high caliber—whatever that meant.

He was getting off-topic. Poseidon was smiling at him now, but it was a strange, nervous sort of twist of the lips instead of its usually cocky beam. "Something wrong with it?" A calloused hand gestured towards the table, and Percy's eyes followed its direction towards his untouched bowl. His eyes widened.

"Oh!" He shook his head. "No!" He twirled the pasta around his fork several times, before shoveling the huge glob full in his mouth. One of the noddles hung out the side of his mouth. Flavors danced—literally danced—on his tongue. Poseidon tried to hide to hide his laugh with a cough, watching the embarrassed expression that had taken over his face slide into one probably of pure bliss. Percy ignored him. "Are you a cooking god?" The business man chuckled, taking a quick bite of his own food before answering.

"Last time I checked? No." Percy didn't respond after that, spooning huge amounts of food into his mouth. He was barely chewing. God, it was so good. Even Chiron, with all his healthy but delicious foods, couldn't compare. He was suddenly happy he'd come to the man's house. Shoving another mouthful passed his lips, he tried to eat more slowly. If only to savor the taste.

The shrill ring of a phone interrupted his happy chewing. Poseidon stood up, pushed back his chair with a foot, and walked towards the noisy communication device on the counter with furrowed brows.

"No one usually calls the house phone..." The young man picked up the device, clicking the green, lit-up 'talk' button with a single thumb. Poseidon held the phone to his ear and cautiously spoke into it. "Hello?" Percy didn't recognize the voice on the other end, but Poseidon's eyes turned darker than his mother's skin at Montauk.

"What do you want, Zeus?" Percy could've been a hundred feet away, and he still would've heard the furious voice from the other line. He couldn't make any words out, however, but from the sound of it, it was something nasty. It was biting and slathered with scorn so thick it made him cringe. Percy wouldn't wish it on anyone. But Poseidon didn't even seem to care. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've missed you too." He paused, pulling the phone away from his ear without batting an eyelash. The yelling had gotten louder.

"I don't remember you signing your name on his big forehead, brother mine." The man rolled his green eyes. It was the only thing that showed his brief irritation, but even that had now dissipated. Distractedly, he noticed his irises looked a lot like his own. Green and blue and grey and strangely swirly. Poseidon continued, "This isn't fifth grade. I didn't steal your desk to talk to the pretty girl across from it. This is business, and if you can't handle that then you've picked the wrong profession." The whole time, Poseidon's face remained stony, not a single expression flitting across his face.

"Call me when you're not so pissed. Or better yet, don't call me at all." He hung up. Percy found himself staring even more than he was before. When Poseidon turned around to fully face him, a calm smile was on his face. It was only slightly forced. "So, kid, how about some garlic bread?" A timer beeped loudly, just in time to hide the awkward silence. Poseidon never stopped smiling.

It was sort of scary.


(1) If you know this show, feel free to leave a review with your favorite character. I'm curious!

I know you're probably wondering about Chiron, Luke, Travis and Conner. Let me assure you, it'll come up in one of Poseidon and Percy's conversation very soon. If not in next chapter, then certainly in the one of the two or three after. However, they are mentioned (usually Chiron) once or twice in the previous chapters, very briefly and for the majority of the time without names. Feel free to look back and check that out! ~Loyalty