February was a good month for the Jacksons.
Nothing was ever going to make Percy like school, but the new accommodations meant that most of his least favorite parts had abruptly disappeared. His teachers still didn't like him, he was a pain in the ass, but he took to going for runs around the city while he listened to whatever reading he was supposed to be doing, and he could kind of remember enough from them to pass the verbal quizzing they had to give him now. He was starting to entertain the idea that he might even get a B in history this term, if he tried hard enough.
Sally, who had started to spend evenings studying with Percy just the year before, her own textbooks scattered around her, now for the first time in Percy's memory also had a social life. She and Karen spoke on the phone most evenings, and she was constantly getting texts, chatting with Foggy and Natasha throughout the day. She and Foggy went on dates every Saturday, even if it was just to the park or the sea, and she started regularly helping out at bake sale fundraisers- especially, Percy noticed, ones for nonprofits related to domestic violence.
Of course, everything she baked for those was blue.
"Would you mind if I did an article on that?" Ben asked Sally one day, when they were hanging out at the office and Ben dropping by for a visit. Sally looked startled, and Ben gave her a small smile and clarified, "I'd love for everything I wrote to be a hard-hitting exposé, but I do still need to earn a living, and my editor likes his human interest pieces. I think your case would be a good compromise. And your debut novel is coming out next month, isn't it? I'd certainly mention that."
Sally blinked for a moment, and then smiled at Ben. "Of course, it's the least I can do."
So Sally and Ben went out for coffee and an interview, while Percy hung out in the law office, talked to Karen about monsters, and occasionally stole some of Matt's papers to touch the braille, trying to distinguish the patterns under his fingertips.
"Satyrs aren't anything to worry about," Percy assured Karen earnestly. "I've never heard of one hurting anyone, except like, Coach Hedge, and he's just grouchy. If you see a satyr wandering around, they're probably either looking for Pan or for half-bloods."
"Is this an evil Coach Hedge?" Karen asked dubiously. Percy laughed and shook his head.
"Nah, he's a protector – uh, one of the satyrs that goes out to schools to sniff out half-bloods. He's too old to pass as a student though, so he usually passes as a substitute gym teacher. Lets him get around." He blinked, and then turned to Matt. "Hey, Matt, what do I smell like?"
"A question I've gone out of my way to avoid asking," Foggy muttered. Matt let out a snort.
"I've actually been wondering that myself," Matt admitted thoughtfully. "It's hard to put my finger on. A little like an ocean breeze, I guess, and also a little like if the sound of windchimes had a smell."
"That's so cool," Percy said emphatically, oddly pleased by the revelation. He thought about it for a second. "Although 'the sound of windchimes' doesn't really sound like a smell that would make me hungry."
"It also smells like that food- ambrosia? That your mother gave you the other week," Matt said. Percy made a sound of surprise.
"Divinity," he said. "I guess that makes sense."
"And what does that taste like?" Karen asked curiously. "Can I try?"
"Uh, no," Percy said. "You'd burn up, it's not safe for mortals or monsters to eat. You gotta have divine blood. Sorry. But the taste changes from person to person. I guess you could say it tastes like home." He smiled a little. "For me, ambrosia usually tastes like microwave popcorn or the s'mores from camp, and nectar is exactly like my mom's chocolate chip cookies."
"Microwave popcorn?" Matt asked, baffled.
"Matt hates the stuff," Foggy explained. Percy snickered quietly.
"Yeah," he said. "I mean- that's every late night my mom and I have spent watching movies at Montauk, you know? Microwave popcorn."
"That's so sweet," Karen said with wonder. Percy sat up all at once.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Matt should probably have some at his apartment, huh? Demigods still shouldn't eat a lot, 'cause we'll also burn up if we eat too much, but small amounts can heal you."
"I'm so jealous of you right now, Murdock," Foggy informed Matt.
"As long as it doesn't taste like microwave popcorn," Matt said with a smile. It faded quickly. "Percy. I admit, I've been wondering." Percy cocked his head. "How did you find out who your father was?"
Percy winced. "I got lucky," he said apologetically. "For one thing, Mom's clearsighted, so she always knew. Plus I have some pretty telling powers – like, before I ever knew who I was, I could still heal with water, control it, it made me stronger. I mean, Dad claimed me too, but by then it was basically a formality."
"And for those that don't get lucky?" Matt asked. Foggy and Karen had fallen silent.
"The ones who don't get lucky at all?" Percy said. "Those kids live in the Hermes cabin. God of travelers. It's always overcrowded because a lot of kids just... don't ever get claimed. So they never know who their immortal parent is."
"That's horrible," Foggy said, looking genuinely distressed. Percy surprised himself by nodding.
"My dad likes me," he said plainly, watching his feet scuff against the floor. "I wouldn't be alive if he didn't. But for the most part, gods don't make very good parents. They just don't care. Sorry if you were hoping for better."
Thunder cracked sharply. Percy didn't grace it with a response.
Matt smiled dryly.
"I was," he admitted, "but fortunately I'm a grown man with a job, and not a teenager. I'll survive without learning who my mother is."
Ben's feature came out about two weeks later: a lengthy, thoughtful piece on domestic violence nonprofit organizations, centered around the conversation that he and Sally had apparently had over what turned out to be multiple coffees and a couple of bagels. They discussed the reputations of different women's shelters, the complications involved in seeking help, some of the people Sally had met during fundraiser events.
Sally also explained the blue food thing, a lot more artfully than Percy had.
"At the time I didn't think anything of it," Sally says to me. "I never really cared for blue food before that, you know. I thought it looked painfully artificial. But it kept bothering me... I think it was because Gabriel was always so derisive about anything whimsical. It was a particularly sore point between us. And the next time I went to the grocery store, I couldn't resist. I knew I could prove him wrong, just this once. Percy and I found every blue food the store had in stock, and we brought them home."
Sally smiles at the memory. Sally has an enchanting smile; something about it complements her graying hair, and I am oddly reminded of my own beautiful wife. They have the same talent for making an entire room feel warm.
"I probably would have stopped there," Sally admits, "but Percy just loved it so much. He was about five at the time, and he kept asking for blue candy, blue corn chips, blue sodas... and before long it stopped being about Gabriel at all. It was about making Percy smile." Her eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light of the coffee shop, and she takes a sip before she continues; it is clear to me that she is considering her next words with care, and she does not disappoint. "Since Gabriel left, I've started to consider it a symbol of our recovery as well. He left his mark on us, but our lives are not about him. They never really were."
That was the passage that other news sites picked through and echoed over and over again over the next few weeks, cherry-picking from the story to share the fruit. Before long, it was everywhere.
It stopped being about Gabriel at all, they quoted, often in large, bold letters to make it stand out from the rest. It was about making Percy smile.
It's our color. Mine and Mom's, others added, drawing from the article Ben had written about Fisk's attack. Or one of Ben's observations: Frequently, Percy looks to his mother for guidance; it's clear to me that he thinks the world of her even as he enters his teen years.
"I don't even know what to think of it," Sally admitted to Percy, looking flustered as she scrolled through a whole page of Google results. "I mean- I'm so happy that it resonates with people, of course, but..."
She trailed off, and Percy, sprawled across the rest of the couch, tilted his head up to look at her. She didn't look unhappy at all, he thought – a little embarrassed, a little confused, but not upset.
"It's not a bad thing," he said after a minute. He shrugged when she looked at him. "I mean- most of the details of what Smelly Gabe did aren't out, and that's the stuff that would really hurt. And Gabe's not around anymore, so it's not like he's gonna retaliate. This is just... our good thing making a lot of people really happy." He grinned at her, half-covered by his arm where his cheek mashed against it. "Also a lot of people are calling him Smelly Gabe now and I love it."
Sally let out a laugh, reaching over to ruffle Percy's hair affectionately. "That's true," she said softly. "It really doesn't bother you?" Percy shook his head, and Sally smiled at him, still looking a little pensive and worry-worn. "I just can't bring myself to... I mean, goodness, it's not as if Gabriel was ever the most dangerous thing in our lives- oh, Percy."
Percy had dropped his gaze from hers, and wasn't quite hiding his face in his elbow, but he'd come pretty close. Sally was right, looking back; Percy never should have been so frightened of Gabe.
Like always, Sally seemed to instantly understand.
"I didn't mean it like that, Percy," she said quietly, running her fingers through his hair again, more gently this time. "Heavens, I could see how much damage he was doing to you day by day. No child should be as self-conscious as you were about needing help – children are meant to ask for help." Her eyes flashed with anger, stormy as the sea for the span of a breath. "If there's one thing I'll never forgive that man for, it's how difficult he made it for you to believe in yourself."
A couple of years late, Percy's brain made the connection. "Oh. That asshole is the reason my self-esteem is wrecked?" Before Sally could respond, he flushed and added, "Uh. Luke mentioned it, before..."
Well. Before.
Percy hid his face for real this time, and Sally's fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, rubbing gently.
"Goodness," Sally murmured. "I'm sorry, Percy. This is a talk we should have had quite some time ago, isn't it?"
Percy shrugged. Smelly Gabe was the one thing they'd ever had trouble talking candidly with each other about. It fucking figured, too.
"He made a game out of humiliating you, Percy," Sally said softly, with only an echo of her real anguish in her voice. "Of course you're more sensitive now. Anyone would be." Quieter, "He really hurt you."
Oddly, hearing it said aloud made Percy's eyes sting. He ignored it.
"I realized the other day that Dad listens to me more than Smelly Gabe used to," he said suddenly, without looking up. "How fucked is that? The god of the seas cares more about my opinion than that stinky ballsack in Wal-Mart clothing ever did." He paused. "Sorry, Mom."
Sally was giggling helplessly. "Oh, sweetie," she said fondly, scratching the back of his neck until he arched like a cat. "I'm glad. There's so little your father can do for you, but learning that he listens to you... that means a lot to me."
Percy peeked up and smiled at her.
"...Yeah," he said at last. "Me, too."
Sally smiled at him, then dropped her gaze back to her laptop. "You know, I bet we could make something out of this. Maybe a bake sale of our own..."
"This is impressive work," Matt commented to Beckendorf, tapping the celestial bronze cane along the ground experimentally. "You must have done your research; a probing cane needs to deliver some very specific feedback to the user."
"Ah, I'm glad it worked out," Beckendorf said, smiling sheepishly. "Me and my girlfriend actually took a trip out to a library and like, a rehabilitation facility to work out the details. You sure you want to keep it a blunt weapon, though? I could build something in."
He looked hopeful that Matt would change his mind, and Percy had to hide a grin; there was a reason he'd made sure Beckendorf got this request. There was nothing the Hephaestus kid liked more than something new to make.
"A blunt weapon is what I use against muggers," Matt said with humor. "I assume it works just as well against monsters."
"Sure does," Beckendorf said cheerfully, not showing his disappointment. "You want to take it out to the training ground? I want to see how you fight, I haven't stopped thinking about it since Percy told me about you."
Matt looked toward Percy and raised an eyebrow. Percy explained, a little defensively, "I told him that you were blind but could fight anyway. It was relevant, okay?"
Matt chuckled, ceding the point, and he and Beckendorf went on ahead, Matt still tapping the cane attentively back and forth.
They fell in at the edge of the arena. A small crowd of year-round demigods had gathered around to watch the spectacle, most of them as fascinated by the idea of an adult demigod as Percy had been.
"You ready to put that staff to the test?" Beckendorf asked Matt with a grin. Matt flashed him a smile with a few too many teeth.
He went into the arena with a general air of anticipation, turned around, and waited. The first challenger had to be nudged and pushed in, none of the kids wanting to be the first one to swing a sword at a blind man. Eventually, though, an Apollo kid ended up in the ring, looking sheepish and vaguely resigned, and Matt shifted his grip on his cane – less pointer, more staff. He tapped the kid on the hip.
"Come on," he said, with a smile that Percy could almost believe had fangs. "I don't bite."
The Apollo kid raised her sword, and then stepped forward and swung. It clanged off the cane, and the fight was on.
If Matt was making any attempt to hide his abilities, it was cursory at best; Percy thought he might just plain be enjoying himself too much to put any heart into the ruse. He didn't seem to have any trouble combating the bladed weapon with the makeshift staff, either, and soon the Apollo kid shifted gears too, becoming more focused and eager.
Finally, Matt landed a sweep across the kid's calves, and the kid stumbled, then fell. Matt jabbed the cane into the ground, right beside the kid's throat, and smiled down at them.
"Feel better about fighting a blind man now?" he teased gently, and then reached down to help the kid up.
"Holy shit," the kid said, grasping his hand to rise to her feet, face lit up with childish delight. "That was incredible."
The demigod kids were a lot more eager to challenge Matt after that, bumping and arguing playfully for the chance to hop up onto the arena. Percy stood back for that, snickering under his breath, but was distracted when Silena grasped his wrist, feather-light.
He turned his head to give her an inquisitive look, and she tilted her head toward a nearby patch of woods. Curious, Percy followed her far enough into the trees to give them a semblance of privacy, and then sat with her under a bush that was just starting to sprout with spring growth.
"I saw the story about your mom," Silena said at last. Percy stared at her blankly. "Blue food?"
Percy's eyes went wide, and his lips parted a little, confusion turning to surprise.
It hadn't occurred to him that people from camp might see it, and suddenly, he understood what his mom had meant when she said she didn't know how to feel. There was something- not good, not bad, but vulnerable in having them know. He was sure it was real encouraging, knowing the fate of Olympus rested on a fuck-up like him.
"Oh," he managed. "Uh, do you know who else has?"
"Most of the camp," Silena admitted, clasping her hands behind her back. "The Stolls took a day trip out and brought back a newspaper with it, and word spread around pretty quickly. I think even Chiron looked at it."
Percy felt flustered. "I wouldn't have thought anyone would care," he admitted, crossing his arms uncomfortably. He hadn't even been at camp that long, not like most of them.
"Of course everyone cares, Percy," Silena said gently. "It's you."
Percy turned pink. What could he even say to that?
There was a soft gleam of understanding in Silena's eyes. "I always had a feeling, to be honest. Something about the way you hold yourself." Percy made a face, and Silena smiled sheepishly. "I mean- you always seem sort of defensive. Not as much as you used to be, but you look at people like you expect them to hurt you. I'm not the only one that noticed."
Percy felt uncomfortably exposed. "Yeah, I guess. But you shouldn't worry about it."
"No?" Silena murmured, eyes on him. "Aphrodite claims abuse survivors as part of her domain, you know. Like Hermes with travelers and Apollo with musicians. They're under her protection."
Percy's brow furrowed. "How come?"
"Love is love," Silena explained. "Even when that love is awful and twisted and selfish, it's still love, and that makes it Aphrodite's responsibility. The people hurt by it are hers to look after."
"It wasn't like that," Percy told her. "Mom never really liked Smelly Gabe, and I hated him."
"Doesn't matter," Silena said firmly. "You're welcome in the Aphrodite cabin, and you can ask for her blessing. Anytime you need somewhere you know you'll feel safe. I should have offered when you first came to camp."
Percy blinked at her, unsure of how to feel about this. He and Silena didn't usually talk much, though they were friendly enough, but she was well-known to be a sweet and gentle soul. It was kind of weird. Usually Percy was the soft one among his friends, outside of battle.
"...Thanks," he said, softer than he'd meant. He cleared his throat. "Sorry to make things weird. I don't think either Mom or I meant that article to reach camp."
"I'm glad it did," Silena said. "Between you and me, there's a lot more survivors here than you find in most other places. Gods don't exactly pick their flings based on who'd make good parents."
"Guess not," Percy murmured. And then, "Mom's organizing a bake sale around Easter, if, um, if you think anyone would be interested. She said she wanted to make something good out of the attention."
"I'll ask around," Silena promised earnestly, and Percy smiled at her.
"You should fight Percy!" someone shouted, making Percy start and look over his shoulder. Matt was still on the arena, surrounded by kids, looking rather amused as they burst into an excitable chorus.
"Percy, get up here!"
"Percy, Percy!"
Percy grinned, and without hesitation, he nodded to Selina, then crossed over hopped into the ring. The other kids cheered, clearing off and gathering close around to watch, and Percy uncapped Riptide with a smile.
"I feel like your mom might have some complaints about this," Matt commented, but he was already getting into position, and Percy grinned and matched him.
"She's used to it," Percy said, and moved.
Matt was a clever fighter, quick and strong, and did a good job using the cane to keep Riptide's sharp edge well away from him. His guard wasn't perfect, though, and Percy could tell he wasn't really used to fighting melee weapons with a reach; he guessed that Matt was more used to knives, since those were more common in the mortal world.
Riptide had a lot more leverage than a knife, and finally Percy was able to slip it just through Matt's guard, shove the cane out of the way, and step close enough to bring his sword to Matt's chest. Matt froze, breathing hard, but he was grinning.
"Point to you, Percy," Matt said, stepping back. "That was incredible."
Percy grinned at him widely.
"Aren't you glad you visited camp now?" he asked.