~ * Chapter Fifteen ~ *

Percy wasn't sure what woke him up. In fact, he wasn't even a hundred percent sure he was awake at all. He felt funny, like he was floating in the middle of the ocean. The water bore heavily around him, pressing against his body. He had to be deep below the rolling waves, he could feel the pressure in his chest, firmly pressing down on his lungs. Something was in his mouth, your respirator his brain tried to helpfully supply. Except . . . no. That wasn't right. His respirator didn't feel like this, and, and what was the smell? It was an awful smell, it burned his nose and no wait, what was that sound? That terrible, horrible sound—

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

Oh god.

Oh no.

Oh no, oh no, ohnononono—

"Mom!" Percy tried to scream, but the sound was distorted by whatever was in his mouth. "Mom?"

A sob tore through his chest, painful and awful and oh god, his eyes were open, his eyes were open but he couldn't see.

Blind, his mind whispered, you're blind and your mom's dead.

No, he screamed back, no, no.

"Mom!"

The word tore through his throat but it was nothing like the pain in his chest. He felt like someone had taken a hot knife and sliced him right open, right through the heart of him, and he screamed, screamed, mom, mom, I just want my mom.

Suddenly he could breathe normally, the not-respirator pulled away, his screams cut off as his lungs greedily took in great gasps of air, trying desperately to get more oxygen in because he couldn't think, he couldn't think, his brain was a haze of shock and pain and where's my mom?

Someone was babbling, sobbing nonsense, "Oh god, I'm at the hospital, oh god, oh god. Blind, blind, I'm blind."

That was him, he realized distantly, feeling equally detached and painfully rooted in the moment, "I want my mom, where's my mom? I need my mom."

His face was hot and wet, was it blood, was it tears, was it darkness itself trying to creep inside him and strangle whatever lingering light may remain? There were sounds but they didn't make any sense, they didn't matter, nothing mattered, why didn't the darkness take him too, it all hurt too much—

"I'm here. Dad's here."

And like that, a switch was flipped. Percy heaved, his breathing erratic, the heartbeat in his ears echoing the damned beeps that surrounding him. He turned the word over in his mind; dad . . . dad . . . dad. Poseidon. The name came naturally, a familiar role of the tongue that brought with it the sensation of warmth, of calloused hands on his forehead, playful bumps to the side, water beneath his fingers and a soft bed beneath his head. He didn't understand, even as his body subconsciously relaxed. Some part of his mind obviously understood, but nothing made sense.

"Dad?" He repeated, head lobbing to the side but all he saw was darkness and all he felt was empty. "Oh god, Mom's dead." The words cut him up inside, like swallowing glass or getting caught in the crossfires of shrapnel. His body trembled and he was sobbing, repeating uselessly as his insides were shredded, "My mom is dead. My mom is dead."

"Shh, shh," the deep voice pleaded (Poseidon, the distant part of his brain urged him to remember, dad). "I'm here. I'm here Percy, Dad's here. I've got you."

Percy's chest seized and he suddenly knew, even if he couldn't remember why, that Poseidon needed to stay. He needed Poseidon here. Poseidon's litany soothed him then, a light balm that couldn't save him from the wreckage inside his soul, but a safeguard to cling to. Consciousness edged wayside and Percy took Poseidon's promise with him.

Beep, beep, beep.

Percy whimpered, a half-choked, half-sobbed sound. Immediately, there was a calloused hand on his forehead, and another squeezing his own.

"Percy," the voice was low and harried, the hand on his forehead sweeping across his skin, pushing his hair back. "Shh, I've got you."

Something hot ran down Percy's face but the hand was there, gently brushing it away. "Do you know who I am?"

Percy took a shaking breath, trying desperately to tune out the horrible beeping sound and focus on the voice. He knew that voice. He trusted that voice. It reminded him of the ocean, of rolling waves and good food and soft beds and—

"Dad?" Percy managed to choke out.

"Good, yes, it's me," Poseidon said, sounding exhausted and a second later Percy felt the bed shift and there was something pressing against his forehead and warm breath ghosting against his skin. Poseidon was leaning his head against Percy's. Percy could hear the sound of his father's heartbeat and it was almost enough to drown out the insistent beeping. Poseidon stayed like that for a moment, not saying anything, before he pulled away.

Percy wished he'd stay and panic suddenly rose in his throat, a pathetic whimper breaking free as he desperately reached out, because Poseidon couldn't go, oh god, please don't go, please don't leave me—

"I'm here," Poseidon immediately assured him, squeezing his hand and leaning forward again, his free hand carding through Percy's hair. "I'm sorry, I'm here Percy. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Percy nodded jerkily, not trusting his voice. Poseidon continued to card his fingers through Percy's hair, sometimes accidently tearing right through tangles but Percy couldn't care less. The little tingles of pain helped ground him.

"I'm at a hospital," Percy said, the words slow and clumsy on his tongue. His breath hitched a little at the end and Poseidon squeezed his hand.

"Yes," his father confirmed softly.

"What happened?" Percy asked.

"You're okay," Poseidon said instead. "You're okay, I'm here, and that's all that matters, Percy. Try to rest."

"What happened?" Percy repeated, heart hammering in his chest and panic rising in his throat. "Dad what happened? Are you okay?"

"Shh," Poseidon hushed immediately, dragging his hand rather forcefully through Percy's hair. "I'm fine, don't worry about me, just rest."

"Dad," the word was half a plea, "Please. I can't—I can't remember and there are holes and blanks and I can't see and I'm—I'm so confused and lost and, and please. We were, we were—" his memory stuttered and flared to life "—it was my birthday. Nereid gave me taffy. We were, errands. We went to the city. Paperwork. You, you needed paperwork. Braille! They were braille."

"Yes," Poseidon said softly. "Yes, they were."

He ran his hand down Percy's cheek and Percy realized he was crying again. He couldn't find it in himself to care or be embarrassed. His mind was jumping all over the place, his skin crawling. His memory felt like a puzzle and he had most of the pieces but not all of them. But he never had all of them, not anymore. The accident had forever deprived him of the sighted pieces of his life and he hated it. He hated not knowing, of trying to figure things out that should have been so simple, so easy, that were now so hard and he hated it. He hated not knowing, he hated missing information and he hurt everywhere, and Poseidon was upset and that damn beeping wouldn't stop.

"You're mine," Percy remembered.

"Yes," Poseidon agreed and his voice was thick, "You're mine now, kid."

Something wet fell on Percy's face and his head lobbed to the side.

"Dad?" His voice was hesitant and he suddenly felt very young and frightened.

"I—we," Poseidon cleared his throat. "We went into town to get your custody papers. I had my lawyer draw up braille copies to surprise you. We were driving home and it was three in the afternoon—" Poseidon sounded disgusted "—and . . . and the driver was drunk."

Percy's breath caught. "He hit us?"

"He hit us," Poseidon repeated, back to running his fingers through Percy's hair. Anger simmered beneath his words, a dark hatred that bubbled dangerously close to the surface.

"A car accident," Percy said bitterly.

"Yes."

Poseidon fussed with the sheets around him but Percy ignored him, dark emotions rolling inside his chest. That damn beeping wouldn't stop.

"Are you okay?" Percy asked slowly, fearful of the answer. Poseidon had to be alright, he was there, next to Percy, holding his hand.

"I'm fine," Poseidon repeated.

"Dad, please, are you—are you—?" Percy couldn't get the words out again, his breath catching in his throat. His head was spinning, he was lightheaded.

"Breathe," Poseidon instructed, sounding panicked, "breathe Percy. Shh, it's okay, just breathe. I have a light concussion and that's it, okay? Just a little bump on the head, the doctors say I'm fine, it's okay. It's okay, just breathe."

Percy took a shaking breath, then another.

"I hate hospitals," Percy whispered and Poseidon ran a hand through his hair.

"I know."

"I want to go home."

"I know."

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

"I hate hospitals," Percy repeated unsteadily, panic and grief and confusion and uncertainty all boiling over inside him and out of his eyes, down his face. Poseidon was there in an instant, a heavy weight doing its best to curl around him and Percy tried to press closer, sobbing and sobbing and Poseidon was muttering 'I know, I know' over and over to the steady beat of the heart monitor.

"Hey, Perce."

Percy's head lobbed to the side. The doctors were weaning him off whatever drugs they pumped him full of after the accident and his body ached all over. The sheets were scratchy and they rubbed uncomfortably against the side of his face, bunching against his cheeks and Percy hated them.

"Nico and Thalia are in the hallway. They want to see you."

Percy blinked. Thalia and Nico? Cousins, his ever helpful mind supplied.

"You don't have to see them if you don't feel up to it," Poseidon said firmly.

"Can't see them," Percy croaked instinctively and he could practically feel Poseidon smile. It was at the perceived return of his humor he knew, but lame, sarcastic humor was more a part of Percy than his own skin. It didn't mean he was okay. He didn't feel okay.

"You don't have to hear them if you don't want to," Poseidon amended.

"I'll hear them only if you go eat something," Percy decided after a moment of thought.

Poseidon huffed, his hand coming to brush through Percy's hair, "Who's the parent here wise guy?"

"Aunt Hestia says you haven't been eating," Percy said, trying not to lean too much into the touch least Poseidon realize how incredibly clingy and needy Percy still was.

"You were eavesdropping," Poseidon accused, gently tapping Percy on the forehead.

"You were literally standing in the doorway," Percy muttered, his voice as exhausted as the rest of him, "and it's not like there was much else for me to concentrate on."

"Brat," Poseidon said without heat. "I'll go get lunch for the both of us and they can keep you company until then okay?"

Percy fought against the panic that arose at the thought of Poseidon leaving. His father couldn't stay by his side forever. And he was fourteen for god's sake. He wasn't allowed to be such a clingy, crybaby when he was lucid.

"Sure," he said, aiming for a casual tone. He might have failed because he could feel Poseidon's hand tense.

"I don't like tomato on my sandwiches," Percy said immediately to distract his father.

"I know," Poseidon said distantly and Percy had the sudden feeling that he wasn't going to leave. He was going to stay in the room with his cousins and part of Percy was relieved, and he hated himself for the weakness. There was knock and then Aunt Hestia's voice was softly calling;

"Hey Percy, Thalia and Nico are here to see you."

Percy turned his head towards the sound of her voice as Poseidon drew his hand back.

"Poseidon, why don't you came down to the cafeteria with me and we can get lunch?"

Poseidon made some noise of affirmation and the sound of him crossing the room was almost louder than the heart monitor. Percy hated the part of himself that tensed with anxiety as Poseidon's footsteps faded away. He really hadn't thought Poseidon was going to leave. He's just going to the cafeteria, Percy thought, he will be back. He's not even leaving the building, Percy scolded himself but that did nothing to quell the sickening swell of fear bubbling in his chest. The urge to call Poseidon back, wait no I made a mistake please don't leave me, was so strong he had to bite down on his lips to stop them from tumbling forth, the burst of copper on his tongue only a small distraction.

"We ah, got you balloons," Nico said, his voice even smaller than usual and Percy could hear them, their rubbery sides statically scrapping against each other. "I mean, you ah, obviously can't see them but ah—"

"It was either that or the 'get well soon' bear and he was scratchy," Thalia cut in, her voice absolute. "Can't have that for baby boy's delicate skin now can we?"

"Thalia!" Nico hissed sounding scandalized but Percy surprised all of them when he gave a slightly too high laugh.

"No, the sheets are bad enough," he said. There was a low screech as one of them dragged a chair over and he could hear the damn sheets on his bed crinkle as one of them tentatively reached out.

"Ah, how are you feeling?" Nico asked hesitantly.

"Aunt Hestia said you have two cracked ribs, one broken one, and they had to operate to stop some internal bleeding," Thalia rattled off before he could even think about how to respond to Nico's question.

"So I've been better," Percy croaked.

"Alright smartass," Thalia snorted but her voice was oddly soft. "She says you're going to be okay."

Percy made a nodding motion, somewhat constrained due to his supine form and his uncertainty in the validity of her assessment.

"Here, I swiped this trashy magazine from the waiting room," Thalia said unrepentantly. "Move over."

"What?" Percy croaked, not understand and his eyes widened in shock when a moment later the bed was dipping and he was being nudged to the side.

"Hey, why do you get to—" Nico was complaining.

"Because I moved first, short stack. You know what, you're so small you could probably fit up here too—"

Percy blinked in surprise as he was gently nudged aside, automatically squirming over so Thalia could lay next to him. He could feel the cold of her edgy leather jacket against his side and even colder bare feet were knocking against his legs and . . .

"Well come on then shorty, just be careful. If you pull out Percy's stitches I'm going to make you sew him back up again."

"I vote no on that," Percy said, finally making his mouth work. "The sewing part I mean."

"There's no—" Nico complained then a second later the boy let out a startled noise and Percy found his younger cousin being tucked into his side.

"You can't just lift me up," Nico said in outrage.

"You were taking forever and you're tiny, yes I can," Thalia disagreed. "Watch his side, there are stitches in it remember."

The bed was crowded. Percy doubted whoever made it designed it to hold three separate bodies. But Nico was small, and Percy was only fourteen and Thalia wasn't exactly a giant. It was a little snug, the sidebar of the bed was cutting into Percy's back, but Nico was a warm weight at his side and Thalia's ankles were linked over his, not exactly comfortable but . . . but it made Percy's skin crawl less and his heart hammered slower in his chest.

"So, ah, what trashy magazine did you snag?" Percy asked and Thalia settled in to gleefully tear the unfortunate magazine apart.

She described all the so called 'trashy' pictures to Percy, reading blurbs from the pages that seemed to particularly amuse her (and one section called 'how to impress your man' that most certainly did not and whoever wrote that article dodged a bullet by publishing it anonymously). After a while, her ire and amusement waned, the sound of glossy pages turning reduced to the gentle scrap of Thalia's blunt nails on their shiny pages and Nico's quick breaths. At some point, Nico let his head fall onto Percy's shoulder where his short, oddly soft hair tickled Percy's throat. To hear Thalia better, Percy had leaned his head to the side and Thalia must have leaned his way as well because now their heads rested against each other.

Percy's eyes closed. He could feel Nico breath, his chest rising and falling against Percy's side. Thalia's breath smelled like bubble gum. He wondered if this was normal—is this what cousins did?—before deciding that he didn't really care. It helped and at the moment that was all that mattered.

"Did you know the screensaver on Uncle P's phone is of you petting that damn dolphin?" Thalia asked, suddenly breaking up the silence.

"It's not," Percy immediately denied, although he had no way of knowing.

Thalia snorted, "Is too. He—"

She never got to finish that sentence. A nurse walked by and apparently their arrangement was 'dangerous' and 'against hospital regulations' and 'you're going to tear his stitches out' or something like that. Thalia wasn't happy. Aunt Hestia magically appeared the second before any shouting could start and that marked the end of his cousins' visit.

Two weeks after the accident they finally let him go home. To Percy, it felt like an eternity. He couldn't get out of the hospital fast enough. He wanted to scrub the smell of antiseptics off his skin, to listen to the calming sound of buzzing tank filters, to lay in his own bed and just be surrounded by all the things that he'd come to associate with home.

He wanted to go home.

"I don't need to be in a wheelchair," Percy muttered darkly as the nurse wheeled said abomination in. He was sitting on the edge of the disgusting hospital bed, dressed in his own fresh, clean clothes, his tennis shoes clad feet dragging against the floor as he moodily kicked his legs back and forth.

"The doctor said to put as little strain on those stitches as possible," Poseidon said firmly and Percy sulked.

"Don't need a wheelchair," Percy grumbled rebelliously, crossing his arms.

"You're either getting in this wheelchair or changing back into that hospital gown," Poseidon declared and Percy scowled harder. Poseidon huffed but before he could say anything a gentler, softer voice was interjecting.

"Hey, Percy."

"Aunt Hestia?" Percy asked, tilting his head up with a frown. He heard a light click before somebody was padding across his room. The bed dipped and Percy knew it was his aunt by the swirling scents of honey and firewood. He valiantly resisted leaning into the contact as she brushed his hair back.

"I know you don't want to," Hestia said gently. "But the sooner you get in the wheelchair, the sooner we can be home. It's not a matter of principle or worth Percy, sometimes we just need help and that's okay. It's okay to need help, it doesn't make anybody less. In fact, I'd say that knowing when to accept help actually makes a person more."

"Besides," she pressed a kiss to his forehead. "We can't have you bleeding out as we're trying to leave. That'd be counterproductive."

"Not fragile," Percy grumbled. His face twisted a little. "Okay fine."

"That's the idea, now let's go before they want me to sign more paperwork," Poseidon said.

Hestia helped guide him over to the wheelchair and Percy gracelessly sat down, arms crossed. Hestia ruffled his hair once more and Percy slouched down, "Can we go home now?"

"Of course," Poseidon said smoothly and the world lurched as he was suddenly rolled forward. Percy wrinkled his nose, uncomfortable, but Poseidon kept talking, "We're going home."

As the hospital doors opened, Percy turned his face up. Warmth spread over his brow, down his face and over his shoulders as the sun shone down on him for the first time in two weeks. He took a deep breath, feeling the tension slowly leave his body.

The trip home was uneventful. Percy really thought he should be more wary of cars, especially now, but the low rumbling of Poseidon's car and the soft murmur of voices from the front seat made it hard to be anxious. Maybe he was just too tired. Or maybe it was because it rather smelled like fish back here.

Poseidon said something and Percy lifted his head off the window, "Hm? Are we home?"

"Home sweet home," Poseidon agreed and Percy automatically reached for the door handle. "Oh no you don't, let me get the wheelchair."

"Can't I use crutches?" Percy all but whined, opening the door despite his father's protests, "I don't need the wheelchair."

"You're supposed to keep pressure off your side," Poseidon said and Percy could practically hear his eyes roll. "Crutches wouldn't do you any good."

Okay, that was fair but consider this: it was just to the door. "But I'm just going into the house," Percy cajoled, making his eyes wide and pleading as he dramatically slumped against his seat. Take pity on me, he thought, the blind kid who just got out of the hospital. "Come on Dad, just to the door."

Percy heard Poseidon sigh and knew he'd won this round. He fought back a smirk, trying to keep his face pitiful. "Just to the door. You want to go any farther, you're getting in the wheelchair," Poseidon relented, his voice firm.

"Got it," Percy agreed brightly, unbuckling himself and stepping out of the car. He wasn't allowed to walk by himself, Hestia came up and wrapped an around him and he tolerated her help, if only because he didn't want to hurt her feelings and he knew Poseidon would insist on it.

"Welcome home Percy," Poseidon said as he opened the door, his voice oddly soft and gentle—

"Surprise!"

Percy's head jerked up in alarm at the cry, his body locking into place. Hestia squeezed his shoulder supportively as he stammered, "What?"

"Surprise, stupid," Thalia's voice snorted and suddenly he was being pulled away from Hestia's side, one of Thalia's arm winding around him. "As in, you know, welcome back from the hospital, we're glad you're alive, oh and happy belated birthday. Did you know we all were here on your actual birthday too?"

"That wasn't as fun," Nico pipped up and a smaller body was pressing in on his other side as his younger cousin helped support him as well.

"Careful," Poseidon's voice warned and Thalia snickered in his ear. Percy half-twisted around towards his father's voice but Thalia and Nico pulled him forward.

"Relax, we're not going to pull anything out," Thalia dismissed. "You've turned him into a worrywart you know, he used to be the cool uncle."

"We're glad you're okay," a sickly sweet voice said, and it only took Percy a minute to connect it to Hera.

"We?" Percy repeated.

"The Olympians, stupid," Thalia huffed, pinching his underarm, "your family."

Percy barely felt the pinch, his feet suddenly lurching to a stop. Family. Percy bowed his head, suddenly very interested in studying the ground he couldn't see as he rapidly blinked back the stinging in his eyes. There was an awkward pause and Percy felt the back of his neck burning, from the silly little emotions bouncing around in his chest or overwhelming embarrassment he wasn't entirely sure, but Poseidon rescued him.

"Why don't you take Percy over to the table to the presents and cake?" Poseidon asked.

"Yeah," Thalia said, clearing her throat and tugging Percy forward again. "Aunt Demeter made you a cake. Can't guarantee there isn't any cereal in it, but it's a cake."

"It'll be better than hospital food either way," Percy said and maybe Thalia was feeling generous or oddly sentimental because she laughed.

"It's blue," Nico explained, "a sort of artificial blue raspberry shade. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah, yeah I do," Percy said with a smile.

"Here, stay put and I'll get us some," Thalia said, unlooping her arm from around Percy and disappearing.

"Does she think I'm dying?" Percy asked, trying to brush away the heaviness of the situation with his poor humor.

"It'll pass by the end of the night," Nico assure him, and it sounding like he was smirking.

Poseidon's twelve person table was finally put to good use (and, surprise of all surprises, was actually too small). Percy sat with his feet propped up on Thalia's chair. She shoved his feet off every now and then but, for the most part, let him get away with it. The cake was surprisingly good, and blessedly cereal free. Percy licked his fork, listening to Nico and Thalia argue over which guest room they were going to take. Percy idly wondered if Poseidon was aware they planned to stay the night.

"Do you remember Annabeth?" Thalia asked suddenly and the question caught Percy off guard. He took the fork from his mouth, frowning.

"The girl from Ares' party?"

"Yeah, be nice," Thalia said. "I invited her and another friend and they're coming this way. Percy, this is Grover and Annabeth, who you already know. Grover's in your grade too. You can't see it, but he's got this ridiculous little scrappy fuzz on his chin he likes to think is a beard—" to his left, an unknown voice sputtered in outrage and Nico laughed in delight.

"And you tell me to be nice," Percy laughed. "Hi, I'm Percy."

"Hey Percy, nice to meet you," a slightly nervous voice greeted. "My beard is very manly and not scrappy at all. Can we, ah, join you guys?"

"Sure," Percy said, shrugging, then, because she hadn't spoken and he had no idea where she was, added, "hi Annabeth."

"Hey Percy," came the reply and the chair on his right pulled out. Percy angled his face towards the sound. "I'm sorry to hear about the accident."

"So was I," Percy deadpanned, which was probably in poor taste but he heard snickering so.

To his immense surprise, Annabeth slugged him in the arm.

"That's not funny," she scolded but her voice was light and amused.

"You hit me," he complained, rubbing the spot like it actually hurt. "You've been friends with Thalia for too long."

"I will shove your feet off again," Thalia threatened and he made a face. She pinched his ankle in retaliation.

"Fall's coming up fast," Annabeth said, ignoring their squabbling. "Have you thought about what school you'll be going to?"

"Of course, he hasn't, what do you take him for? He's been busy anyway," Thalia scoffed and Percy frowned, unsure how she meant that. After a moment of consideration, he decided she meant it in a protective, albeit it backhanded, manner so he shouldn't be offended.

"We go to RHS which is just about twenty minutes away from here," Grover explained quickly—

"Riordan High," Annabeth elaborated.

"Riordan High and it's a really good school. I, ah, I know you can't tell but I, ah, I have crutches—" Percy tilted his head to the side as he heard metal clank against the side of the table—"ah, for a muscle disorder of mine and RHS is really good about it. They're real accommodating and the teachers are real understanding and ah—"

"You should go to RHS," Nico said excitedly. "That's where Thalia goes too, and my middle school is just around the corner."

"Shut up Nico, why would I want Perce to go to my school?" Thalia said without heat as her hand curled around Percy's ankle. "We'd have to make sure they carry braille textbooks, and that Percy gets a strategically placed locker—"

"I always get let out of class earlier so I can get to my locker safely before the rest of the students file out," Grover put in helpfully.

"Yeah, that'd be good," Thalia mused.

"Hey, sitting right here," Percy complained loudly. "And I can take care of myself thanks."

"Shut up Percy," Thalia said absently, her nails digging into his ankle.

"You should set up an advising appointment with Mr. Chiron," Annabeth told Percy as Thalia and Grover continued to talk about how they thought Percy would get to class and manage around school, much to Percy's aggravation. "He's great and he'll help you make a plan."

"Thanks," Percy said wryly. "At least somebody thinks I can take care of myself."

"Oh, I don't," Annabeth laughed, "I just think you're stubborn enough to ignore everything else and try things your bull-headed way."

Percy made a face, "Whatever Wisegirl."

"That's literally the farthest thing from an insult," Annabeth said, sounding amused and his lips curled up of their own accord and he found himself laughing alongside the girl.

Apollo stole him away some time later and Percy found himself being shoved into the middle of the living room, expensive and exotic presents forced onto his lap and somehow along the way a bow from one of the presents got caught in his hair and Aunt Hestia almost had to cut it out. Percy found himself laughing, scowling, scoffing and smiling along with this strange, large family and . . . and he didn't feel like an intruder. In fact, he rather felt like an Olympian.

Finally managing to extract himself from the throng, Percy made his way to the corner of the room, leaning his head against the cool of the seahorse tank. He felt somebody approach and knew before they sat next to him that it was Poseidon. He lobbed his head to the side, knees draw up to his chest as he waited for his father to speak. His side was still a little sore, little twinges of pain that were making themselves known as the night wore on. Even though he'd only actually been out of the hospital for maybe five hours tops, he was exhausted.

"I'm actually a little afraid they'll never leave," Poseidon said and Percy huffed out a laugh, shaking his head and thinking about Nico and Thalia. Poseidon had no idea.

"School starts next week." Poseidon continued and Percy frowned. Even though Annabeth had mentioned it, he hadn't really thought it was all that close.

"Already?"

"I know, the summer just flew by."

Percy thought this summer was at once the longest and shortest of his life.

"I was thinking, Thalia goes to a school not all that far from here. It's actually rather close to the aquarium, and Nico's middle school is just around the corner. Would you like to go there?"

"Yeah, Grover and Annabeth were telling me about it," Percy said slowly. "Grover, ah, the other boy? He says it's a real good school. Could I even get in?"

"I think with your uncles' influence we could get you into Harvard if we really wanted to," Poseidon said dryly. Percy thought it over for a second, then realized he didn't even need to think about it.

"Good, 'cause that'd be awesome . . . to go to Thalia's school, not Harvard," Percy clarified, just in case. Because you never knew with Poseidon.

Poseidon gave a low chuckle as if he were thinking along the same lines, "Of course. We'll just have to make sure they have some sort of agreeable accommodations for your sight. I'm sure your cousin will love to help out anyway."

"Or Annabeth, seeing as she's the one who's actually in my grade," Percy pointed out.

"Or Annabeth," Poseidon repeated carefully. Percy's face twisted, feeling oddly protective.

"Problem?"

"No, no problem at all," Poseidon said, chuckling, and Percy felt like he was missing something. "She's very pretty you know."

"No, I don't know," Percy said, rolling his eyes, and he could feel Poseidon shake with laughter.

"Right, sorry. Damn, I don't think I'll ever stop with those slip ups."

"You're not so bad," Percy said nonchalantly, but he was grinning too widely for his dad to take the words to heart.

"Who was that boy she was with again?"

"That's Grover. He's a friend of hers and Thalia's apparently. He seems cool, he goes to their school. He says RHS is very accommodating."

"Good."

"I want a cane," Percy announced suddenly, the thought blurting out as he contemplated Grover and his crutches, Thalia and Annabeth's words, and something else, something deeper inside that had nothing to do with anybody but himself. He could practically feel the surprise radiating off Poseidon at the sudden exclamation.

"Okay," Poseidon agreed readily, "we'll get one tomorrow."

And even though he didn't ask, probably wary of talking Percy out of it or whatever other oddities ran through the man's mind, Percy felt the need to explain, "Aunt Hestia was right and I . . . I'm ready to try. I'm tired of pretending I don't need it and I want to move around on my own, without having to . . . " he trailed off awkwardly, knowing he wasn't explaining himself accurately and his stomach twisted a little, from panic and fear and old insecurities.

"It's okay," Poseidon assured him, "it's okay Percy."

He left it at that and Percy let the silence swell. He could hear Apollo reciting bad poetry somewhere to his left, and Thalia was threatening somebody to his right, Aunt Hestia's gentle voice floating over everything but the loudest of all seemed to be Poseidon's gentle, deep breathing by his side.

"Thank you," Percy said finally.

"For what?" The silly man asked in confusion and fondness lacked the words, like he was used to Percy being ridiculous but didn't mind putting up with him anyway.

"Everything," Percy said inadequately. How was he supposed to thank Poseidon for all he'd done? For giving him a home, a place in the world when he thought he'd lost everything, for giving him Aunt Hestia and Thalia and Nico and a family, for being the only light amidst all the darkness? How could he even begin to thank Poseidon for all he had done?

Poseidon seemed to understand.

"Hm . . . we're not so bad are we?" Poseidon mused lowly.

"Not nearly as bad as you tried to make them," Percy agreed.

"Guess some of us just needed to look a little harder. Or maybe, look without our eyes."

Poseidon was clearly trying to be thoughtful and clever. He should leave that to Aunt Hestia, Percy thought fondly, he sucked at it, ridiculous nonsensical man.

"That doesn't make any sense," Percy said with a fond exasperation.

"I was being insightful," Poseidon immediately objected.

"You might want to leave that to Aunt Hestia," Percy suggested, tongue in cheek.

"Why you little brat," Poseidon scoffed, lightly swatting him upside the head. Percy started to laugh, an aborted snort that was interrupted by a yawn.

"Tired?" Poseidon asked gently and Percy shrugged, the movement a little sluggish and he was oddly hyper aware of the scrape of his shirt against his neck, the lingering notes of antiseptics clinging onto its threads.

"Yeah, but I'm not ready to go to bed yet."

"Okay," Poseidon allowed, like Percy knew he would. "Well, since we're being all heartfelt, I suppose I should thank you."

Percy's eyebrow rose lazily, "For what?"

"Everything," Poseidon parroted back and Percy cracked a grin, shaking his head as he laughed.

The movement caused him to careen sideways but he didn't bother correcting his course as he leaned his weight against Poseidon. His father was warm and Percy let his head stay where it had fallen on his shoulder. Poseidon shifted ever so slightly and Percy's throat constricted when a moment later, a kiss was being gently pressed to his forehead.

"It's gonna be okay," Poseidon promised firmly. "Can't promise everything'll be perfect because it won't. But we'll try."

"I know," Percy whispered.

He turned his head to the side, face nestled in the crook of Poseidon's neck. He could feel Poseidon breathe, his exhales ghosting across Percy's head and his throat vibrating with each word he spoke. He'd never said the words, not out loud at least, in a way Poseidon would understand and it was suddenly important he knew so Percy said, "Love you Dad."

"Love you too, son."

And Percy smiled; you're mine now.

A/n I'm not crying, I'm full on weeping. But, to be fair, I started blind!Percy's adventures, god, three years ago. I feel like I've really grown as a writer in that time, and writing from blind!Percy's perspective really helped with that I think. I mean, I had to completely remove sight from my repertoire for this story and you never realize how much you rely on something until it's gone. I had to stop and think 'now how do I describe his surroundings? The people?'. I started using my (Percy's?) other senses more, closing my eyes and going, okay now what would he smell? What would he hear? What would he feel, which honestly is one of the senses that I very rarely used before this story. And all of this has bled over into my other writing. Not only do I use more of the other senses now, but I have a greater appreciation for sight. Things like 'he saw his friend coming' means so much more to me now because, hey, I can talk about where their hands are or what their face is doing or what they're wearing or whatever. So yeah, blind!Percy means a lot to me. And you guys mean so much to me for sticking through it all and being so amazing and encouraging and seriously I have the greatest reviews/supporters ever and I definitely wouldn't have gotten through this adventure without you. This particular story gave me so much trouble and to be at that finish line is so bittersweet.

Sorry to get all sentimental on you, but good news! Since I'm so sentimental, I'm going to add an epilogue!

So, once more, thank you, and from the bottom of this weepy heart, I hope you enjoyed ~ *