9. Fever

"Oh hey, you don't look so good," Paul couldn't help but say as his stepson slithered into the kitchen.

Percy scowled at him, which only served to highlight the bags under his eyes and the sickly pallor of his skin. Paul clicked his tongue sympathetically, pausing in his morning routine to press the back of his hand against Percy's forehead.

"You, my boy, are sick," Paul tsked, smoothing back Percy's sweaty hair from his too hot forehead.

Percy scowled harder, hunching his shoulders in as he gave a rather pathetic cough.

"'M fine."

"No, you're sick," Paul told him firmly, stepping in to stop the demigod from edging further towards the cereal box left on the counter from Paul's breakfast.

It was a testimony to how miserable the boy felt that Percy barely put up a fight, nudging Paul with his shoulder once before giving up, letting his head fall onto Paul's shoulder and giving another nasally cough.

"There, there," Paul said kindly, stumbling a little as he adjusted to his sudden armful of bulky teenager.

"Think you better stay home and rest," Paul advised, patting Percy consolingly on the back of the head.

"'M the hero of Olympus—twice," Percy mumbled into Paul' shirt.

"The hero of Olympus is sick no matter how many times he saved it," Paul said.

He tried to get an arm around Percy's shoulder but the demigod proved utterly unhelpful as he slumped further into Paul, coughing weakly.

"Come on then, Percy, work with me," Paul grunted, shuffling awkwardly as he tried to maneuver the reluctant demigod to the couch.

Percy grumbled but his feet shuffled in the general direction Paul pushed him. He fussed and batted weakly at Paul, but submitted to being forced onto the couch, still giving those weak, sad little coughs.

"No," Percy protested, well, more like whined as Paul pulled a blanket out and advanced on the demigod.

"Paul, I—Paul—I've fought gods."

"Well, everybody has their off days," Paul dismissed as he pinned Percy's flailing limbs to the side and bundled the protesting demigod up in the thick blanket.

He frowned when he realized Percy was too tall for the blanket—his feet stuck out—and left to get reinforcements. As he shifted through the closet in his bedroom, he heard the shower turn off and knew Sally would be out soon. He was already pretty confident he could get Percy to stay home for the day but, well, Percy couldn't say no to Sally so there was always a trump card if the boy protested too much.

"What's going on here?" his wife inquired as she emerged from the shower a moment later to find her boys in the midst of a strangled sort of struggle, Paul managing to pin down Percy's feet and swaddle the last part of the demigod up.

"He made me into a demigod burrito," Percy coughed, reaching out for his mother.

"Put that hand back under the blanket," Paul scolded as Sally gently took her son's hand, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"Got a bit of a fever there," she said kindly.

"'M fine."

"Of course you are," Sally said in amusement, tucking his arm back under the blanket. "How poorly do you feel?"

"He's sick and not going to school," Paul asserted firmly, not giving Percy the option.

"'M the—"

"—the hero of Olympus, yeah, yeah, I know. You're still not going to school."

The look of fondness Sally gave the pair made Paul's heart swell. He couldn't help sweeping in to kiss her and she gave a laugh, taking him by the hand and leading him towards the door and away from the grumbling teenager.

"You stay there," Paul warned, twisting to wag a finger at the demigod. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

Percy grumbled, wiggling around a bit but he seemed to be snuggling deeper into the cushions as opposed to anything else.

"I have a meeting with my editor today," Sally reminded Paul as they moved towards the entrance of the apartment.

"I remembered, knock 'em dead," Paul enthused, grabbing her coat for her.

"Could you pick up some Tylonal on your way home for Percy? Oh, and probably some soup too, I don't think we have any."

"I'll grab them," Paul promised as Sally starting shrugging into her coat. "But, ah, I think I'll stay home today."

Sally froze midway through donning her coat, concern lighting up her face. "He's not that sick," she said, half in assertion, half in question as she peered around the room at the boy.

"No, no, no he's not, he's fine, just a little fever," Paul quickly assured her, pulling her coat the rest of the way on and smoothing out the shoulders. "I just . . . "

Paul floundered for the right words. He looked over his shoulder at their son, whose head was barely visible over the bundle of blankets. Paul swallowed hard, turning back to stare a little helplessly at his wife.

"I can't help with the . . . the other stuff." Paul let his hands fall to his side. "I can't stop monsters or gods or kidnappings. I can't protect him the horrors that haunt his dreams and I just feel so . . . sometimes I just . . . . " He blinked, hands clenching and unclenching at his side.

"I can help with this," Paul said finally, swallowing hard. "I can help with this."

Sally's eyes were bright.

"Okay," she said and that was all she had to say.

She hugged Paul hard and they just held each other for a while, maybe a little too tightly. Paul buried his face in her hair and tried to focus on her weight against him, the sound of Percy's sad little coughs an oddly soothing background noise.

When Sally finally pulled away, her eyes were a little red. "Call me if you need anything," she said, clearing her throat.

"I will," Paul promised softly, holding the door open for her.

When he made it back to Percy, the demigod was right where he left him. Percy blinked hazily up at Paul, his chin tucked into the blanket and hair mussed. Despite the feverous eyes and pale skin, bundled up as he were and staring sleepily up at Paul, Percy looked . . . warm. Safe. It made Paul's heart ache and he wished with a sudden ferocity that he could keep the boy here forever, warm and safe and taken care of.

"Sleep," Paul instructed, swallowing against his pounding heart. "You can have some soup when you wake up."

Paul waited for comment, sure Percy had worked out by now that Paul wasn't going to work today. Percy's eyes were knowing but he didn't say anything. Instead, his stepson just pulled the blanket all the way up to his nose and hummed.

Paul smiled fondly. Then he picked up Percy's legs and settled down on the couch beside the boy, dropping Percy's legs back down onto his lap.

"'ll get you sick," Percy warned, voice muffled.

"You already coughed all over me," Paul reminded him with a laugh, fishing for the television remote. "Go to sleep, Percy. I'll be here if you need anything."

A/n Thank you all so much for all your support!

Up next: Self Sacrifice