Drowning in My Soul: Part One

Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, Savior of Olympus, Bane of the Titan Lord, Head Counselor of Cabin Three, was dying. He was dying. His head throbbed, a steady thrumming that echoed nauseatingly around his skull. Coughs racked his body, causing his aching chest to seize and convulse with every rattling exhale. His skin burned, a terrible fire that blazed all over his body, hotter than the forges of Hephaestus'. Breathing was difficult, loud wet coughs disturbing his desperate bid for air.

"I'm dying," he gravely informed Annabeth Chase over their Iris Message.

"You've got a cold," Annabeth said, totally unsympathetic to her boyfriend's miserable plight. She did not even look up from the architecture design she was working on to make sure he stilled breathed.

"'M dying," Percy protested, his throat scratchy and protesting its unnecessary usage. He coughed, a miserable pathetic sound that rattled in his chest.

"It's a cold," Annabeth corrected, unconcerned.

The Iris message shimmered as Annabeth reached over to drag some papers towards her. While Percy was in his apartment, wallowing away from this terrible deadly disease that gripped him, she was safe and comfortable up on Mount Olympus, redesigning buildings and archways. She made a mark on one of her designs. He sneezed, a terrible, loud wet sound and the thin tissue in his hand disintegrated under its powerful blow. He wrinkled his sore nose in disgust and cast the disgraced paper aside.

"Make sure to drink lots of fluids," Annabeth instructed him. "And have hot soup for lunch. It'll help your throat. Cough drops wouldn't go amiss."

"'M dyin'," Percy petulantly repeated, sinking lower into his blanket as he resolved not to pout.

Both his mom and new step dad, Paul, went off to work this morning. Not that Percy tried to stop them, aside from some light moaning and groaning. He was a big boy, he could take care of himself. Still, it would be nice if somebody cared. No, no that was not right. It would be nice if somebody fretted over him. That was better. Somebody like the beautiful blonde in the shimmering message before him.

Annabeth sighed and looked up at his sad and pitiful form. He gave a weak cough.

"I'm almost finished with Artemis' new temple," Annabeth said slowly, tucking a wayward strand of curly blonde hair behind her ear, "When I'm done with that I'll stop by okay? I'll bring ice cream and some cheesy movie, as long as you promise not to cough all over me. I will not have you getting me sick."

He had the best girlfriend in the world, Percy decided fondly.

"Blue ice cream?"

Annabeth groaned, but she was smiling as well as she waved her pencil at him.

"Yes, blue ice cream. Now I have work to do. Enjoy your moaning and groaning."

"Dying!" Percy called after her as she waved her hand through the message, disconnecting them.

Percy snuggled deeper into his bed, feeling significantly more cheerful after his chat with Annabeth. At least he had something to look forward to now. He sneezed loud enough to wake the dead and nuzzled back into his pillow, swallowing back the disgusting bile that rose in his throat. Between some coughing and sneezing, Percy dozed on and off for about an hour before the coughs woke him up for good. His throat was raw and aching and each cough sounded more pathetic then the last.

At this rate, I won't have a voice by noon, Percy thought crossly as he struggled to get out of bed. His body shook from the cold so he wrapped his comforter around him, tucking it firmly around his trembling frame and he waddled from his room. Getting to the kitchen turned out to be a tough trial. It was hard not to trip over the edge of his blanket and often had to stop, doubling over from the coughs that racked his body. Snot ran down his face, congealing against his already sweaty and gross face.

Disgusting, he whined to himself as he scrubbed at his face with a wet washcloth when he finally made it into the kitchen. When he finished cleaning up, he squinted up at the cabinet. He would have to extract his arm from its comfortable and warm oasis inside his blanket to get a cup. With a great sigh, he braved the cold air to reach for the cup. Trembling, he filled the cup as quickly as he could before tucking his arm back in his blanket. The water was cold and soothing on his raw throat. Percy sort of hoped the water's healing ability would cure his cold, but alas he still sniffled and coughed. But his throat did feel slightly better.

Clutching the glass of water against his chest, Percy made his way over to the couch, his blanket trailing behind him like the world's most pathetic cape. As he trudged into the living room, he paused at the television, leaned over to squint at the miserably small collection of DVDs they owned. He pursed his lips and coughed a little, his eyes darted around the room as he thought. His mom and Paul were both at work and would not be back until later in the evening, and Annabeth definitely would not be done with her project until well after that. He had the apartment completely to his (albeit miserable) self.

Rationalizing that he was feverous and not completely in control of his emotions, and secure in the knowledge that nobody would waltz in on him, Percy slipped Disney's Hercules in the DVD player. It would be his guilty little secret. No one had to know.

As the movie started Percy curled up on the couch, swaddling himself up in the oversized blanket he dragged from his bed. With his knees to his chest and the blanket tucked around his head he bet he looked rather like an over large demigod burrito. Percy closed his eyes and fell into a light sleep, only occasionally disturbed by an over-exuberant cough or sneeze.

Percy startled awake some time later when he found himself being unceremoniously plucked up from his warm and comfortable bundle on the couch. He started to make a sound – he liked to think it would have been something like an impressive Greek curse but probably would have been more along the lines of a high pitched scream – but found his throat was too raw to make any noise. The best he could muster was a weak half straggled noise that was the epitome of embarrassing. Seriously. He was never going to live that down.

All of this filtered through Percy's head in a matter of seconds (thank you ADHD and years of demigod instinct) and he lashed out at his attacker even as he made said pathetic sound.

"Peace my son," his captor said, and Percy paused in his struggle as he recognized the deep voice.

Come to think of it, he recognized the smell as well, the clean and crisp scent of a midsummer ocean's breeze: Poseidon. Percy took a moment to bemoan the pitiful conditions his father found him in (curled up on the couch, covered in snot and whimpering as, oh gods, Hercules still played in the background). Poseidon did not give him time to reply, shifting Percy so he held the demigod against his oddly warm chest (did gods have body heat? Was that a heartbeat Percy heard or his own mortification pounding in his ears?).

"I will not let him take you from me," Poseidon, lord of the sea, declared fiercely.

Percy had no idea what that meant, but he barely had time for his feverous brain to process what the hades was even happening and suddenly he was not in his apartment anymore. They were not even on land anymore. Percy could feel the cool of the ocean pressing around his heated skin, and while it actually felt quite nice and soothing, this left him even more confused.

"Da – " Percy coughed, the word burning in his throat and causing his entire body to shake as he coughed uncontrollably. Speaking shouldn't be so painful, Percy lamented to himself.

Poseidon's arms tightened around him. Percy managed to calm his coughing fit with just a few tears leaking out of his eyes. As he hastened to blink them away, he realized that they were inside Poseidon's undersea castle, Atlantis itself. While the castle had been decimated after the Second Titan War, Poseidon and his people seemed to have made good headway on the repairs. Grand stone columns towered above his head, not unlike the ones that stood proud on Mount Olympus, but they had a special oceanic flare that Percy distractedly admired.

"Save your strength," Poseidon told him gently, much to Percy's ever growing surprise.

He laid Percy down on a bed of some sorts, and Percy fought a groan (which would undoubtedly just burn his throat even more should he give it life) as he realized his father had carried him through the halls of Atlantis. Poseidon, one of the Big Three and the all-powerful ruler under the sea, carried the hero of Olympus like a child.

"Wh - ?" Percy tried again, only to be hushed by his father once more.

He called out something in an ancient language Percy had never heard before and a strange creature floated into the room. Percy could not help but stare at it in surprise. He looked rather like Poseidon did in his aquatic form. He had the dual tail of Poseidon's merfolk, both an almost sickly green that shimmered as light reflected off them, but his skin was blue. Like his actual skin was the color blue. Percy blinked at him, then at his father, not entirely convinced this was not a feverish dream of his.

The blue merman bowed deeply to Poseidon, so low his nose almost touched his tails, before straightening up and swimming right up to Percy. He placed cold hands on either side of Percy's face and the demigod automatically tried to pull away.

"Peace, son, he is a doctor," Poseidon explained, hovering over the blue man's shoulder with a barely concealed worried expression. Percy's brow furrowed in confusion as the merman poked and prodded at him.

Doctor?

"He's very sick," the blue doctor addressed Poseidon over his shoulder as he released Percy's face.

Wait what? No, no no –

"It's just a cold," Percy said. Or at least, that is what he wanted to say. Instead, through a rather painful cough, all that managed to actually come out of his mouth was – "cold."

Poseidon turned to him in concern, waving his trident through the water. Immediately, Percy felt the water surrounding him grow warmer. Percy groaned, regretting the sound as it aggravated his throat. No, not that kind of cold. The blue doctor and Poseidon continued to talk while Percy gathered himself.

"'M fine," Percy managed to rasp out.

Poseidon frowned, but reached out to lay a solemn hand on Percy's shoulder. "It's alright my son," he said, his eyes crinkling as he looked at Percy in what the demigod could only label as fondness (which warmed him quite a deal and almost made this entire strange ordeal worth it), "You do not have to be brave. I know of your strength and your courage, and I do not doubt them for a moment. Let me take care of you; my brother shall not take you."

Percy grinned rather foolishly at that – his dad thought he was brave and strong – but it turned into a frown as he considered the latter part of his statement. What did he mean, he would not let his brother take Percy? Before Percy could question him further, his father gave his shoulder a warm squeeze and straightened, beckoning the blue doctor to follow him out of the room.

"I shall send Tyson," Poseidon promised solemnly, "and I shall be back."

With that he swam away, leaving Percy to stare after him in utmost confusion. He had no idea what just happened.

Percy took this time to admire his room. The area was quite spacious and open. A large window spanned the wall to his left, giving him a grand view of what he assumed would be the courtyard when it was completed. Already there were coral of all kinds lining the way not unlike flower beds on land, in a kaleidoscope of colors and forms. In the center of the space stood a giant stone statue, not yet completed, but from the rough edge of the face Percy assumed it would one day be a perfect stone copy of Poseidon. His attention turned back to his room. The bed he laid on was sinfully comfortable, and the sheets flowed over his hand like the water around them.

All in all, Percy rather liked the room. Now if only he could actually enjoy it instead of, you know, coughing up a lung. He doubled over, a terrible wet cough rattling in his chest, as a distressed voice cried:

"Percy!"

Percy could not quite quell the coughs fast enough to return the greeting and he watched through watery eyes as Tyson practically threw himself beside Percy, his eye large and fearful. He seemed almost afraid to touch Percy.

"Brother!" He cried, just as fearfully as before and tears actually welled up in his great eye. Percy watched him in alarm, reaching out to lay a reassuring hand on the cyclops' arm.

"M'okay," he managed to gasp out. Tyson actually did burst into tears at his raspy voice. Percy suddenly found himself with an armful of Tyson as his brother tried to bury himself in Percy's aching chest. Terrible sobs shook his giant frame as Percy wrapped his arms around Tyson, his mind in a panic. What was wrong? Was he hurt? Was somebody else hurt? Had something happened at camp while he was away? Had someone hurt Tyson? Because if they did then Percy was going to murder them, oh why wouldn't his voice work?

A series of harsh but wordless sounds escaped Percy's lips as he tried anxiously to figure out what was wrong. It made Tyson cling to him tighter.

"Don't worry," Tyson sobbed, "it's going to be okay. Dad will fix it. Dad will take care of you. Dad promised."

Okay, now Percy was really lost. Even Tyson was not making any sense. And that was two people now who told Percy he would be 'taken care of'. He was the Hero of Olympus, he had been on numerous quests and bested hundreds of monsters he did not need someone to take care of him, Percy could take care of himself!

Tyson's lower lip trembled as he pulled back enough to stare miserably at his brother.

"They say you're dying," Tyson hiccupped. Percy froze.

Dying? He was not dying. Honestly, had not the gods ever heard of a cold before? He was just a little sick, no matter what he told Annabeth earlier –

Percy thoughts stuttered there. What he told Annabeth earlier. Over an Iris Message. About himself 'dying'. Which the rainbow god undoubtedly heard and, for some terrible reason, felt the need to inform Poseidon. He could have slapped himself.

"N' dyin'," Percy gasped.

"We won't let you," Tyson told him, his face deathly serious and determined as he hugged his brother tight.

"Tyson," Poseidon's stern voice washed over the boys and Percy glanced up to see his father in the doorway. He looked at his hugging sons with a soft expression, but he schooled his face into one of sternness after a moment. "Release your brother. He is already struggling to breath."

Tyson released Percy, gasping in alarm.

"I'm sorry brother!" He cried in distress. Percy got the urge to slap himself again.

"S'k," He tried to assure his brother even as his throat protested.

"Hush," Poseidon told him, and to Percy's immense surprise a large callous hand came to rest on his forehead. Percy wondered if Poseidon was honestly checking his temperature or if it he was simply copying what he saw mortals do when a child was ill. Either way, it was kind of nice.

"You shouldn't speak," Poseidon continued, oddly gentle. "Keep your strength. You will get better."

This is a giant misunderstanding, Percy wanted to say, it's just a cold. All he managed was another cough however. Tyson looked at him in concern as Poseidon's hand fell from his forehead to rub soothing circles on his back.

"Rest," Poseidon urged, gently pushing Percy down on the bed. "It is alright. I am watching over you."

Unnecessary! Percy thought but his eyes had closed. He was pretty tired (Poseidon did wake him up from his impromptu nap earlier). Perhaps his throat would feel better when he woke and he could explain things properly. Besides, Percy thought hazily as a hand carded through his hair, it was rather nice having Poseidon fret over him. The ocean hummed around him, a soothing and comforting lullaby. Percy easily slipped into a deep restful sleep.

A hand was on his cheek. A large, rough hand that most certainly did not belong to his sweet dainty mother so Percy pulled away, snuggling deeper into his pillow. His head pounded something awful, his throat burned as though he swallowed living fire, and breathing was made near impossible by the sheer disgusting amount of phlegm that clogged his mouth and nose. Gods, he hated being sick.

Leave me to my misery Paul, Percy wanted to moan but his throat did not comply and he simply whined instead.

"I need you to wake Percy," a deep voice that did not belong to his step father called. Percy frowned. His brain worked lethargically, slowed by fever and the haze of slumber, until he remembered. When he did, his eyes flew open and he almost jerked upright, but a strong hand held him down.

"Relax," Poseidon soothed, running his fingers through Percy's sweaty hair. "You need to take your medicine."

So it was not a dream, Percy thought, blinking up at his father's face. Poseidon was really here, at Percy's sick and frankly disgusting side, his fingers still idly running through his hair as he held some black vile out to Percy. Percy stared at it.

"Drink it," Poseidon commanded, placing the vile in Percy's hand. Percy glanced at the thick black substance then back up at his father as if to say seriously? Poseidon's lips twitched.

"Unfortunately. But the idea is to get you healthy."

Just a cold, Percy thought, but he was selfishly glad he could not say it out loud. He did not want this to go away. He wanted Poseidon to fret and worry over him, to have his dad by his side. Yes, Percy Jackson, Savior of Olympus, wanted his dad. So sue him. He really did not think it was all that big of a deal to want some quality time with his father who he never knew existed until four years ago and could never really spend time with. He did not think it all that unreasonable.

Percy tilted the black substance back and almost gagged. He somehow managed to swallow the entire vile thing, if only to get it out of his mouth because dear gods that was horrible. Poseidon patted him sympathetically on the back.

"I have relieved Tyson of his duties for the day," Poseidon told him as Percy collected himself after that terrible experience. "So he can keep you company. I will check on you."

He continued to rub soothingly on Percy's back. Percy did not even think he realized he was doing it. Not that the demigod was going to complain however. He hummed, knowing his voice would not corporate even if he tried, to acknowledge he heard Poseidon. The lord of the sea nodded absently, but still did not leave. Percy waited for him to say something more, but none was forthcoming. His eyes were fixed reluctantly on the door, but he made no sign of leaving.

"'M 'k," Percy said suddenly. He was not sure what possessed him to say that. The corner of Poseidon's eyes crinkled however and his father smiled down at him.

"Always so brave," he muttered. His hand came up to clasp Percy's shoulder. He seemed unsure, which was so strange and foreign to see on a god's face that Percy did not know how to respond. Poseidon's fingers twitched as he slowly withdrew his hand.

"Percy!"

Tyson appeared in the doorway, his eye wide and searching as he anxiously scanned Percy's face. Making sure he was still alive, Percy realized. He was carrying a large woven basket in his arms.

"Tyson," Poseidon cleared his throat as his large son stumbled to his side and took a seat next to Percy.

"Percy okay?" Tyson asked fearfully.

"He will be," Poseidon said firmly. Percy happened to cough at the exact moment, a terrible rasping sound that seemed to contradict Poseidon's statement. Tyson looked at him in alarm, reaching out for his brother. Percy waved him off.

"M'fin'," Percy sneezed, rubbing his nose and trying to hide his snot covered face from the lord of the sea.

Poseidon still hovered much to Percy's embarrassment.

"M'fin," Percy repeated from behind the safety of his hands.

"M'lord?" A strange voice timidly asked. A nereid hovered around the door, glancing in concern at Percy's red face and then Poseidon's stony one, his grave eyes trained on Percy.

"I am coming," Poseidon dismissed. The nereid bowed and disappeared, her small eyes still nervously watching Percy, as if she was afraid he was going to keel over any second.

"Call and I will come," Poseidon told him. "If you worsen."

"M'fin."

Poseidon heaved a great sign, looking torn between exasperation and fondness. It was a familiar expression; Sally wore it a lot.

"Tyson."

"I will get you if he gets worse," Tyson promised. Poseidon nodded, satisfied. He gave Percy's shoulder one last squeeze, ruffled Tyson's hair, and was gone.

"I brought breakfast!" Tyson told him excitedly. "To keep you strong."

He dumped the contents of his basket out on Percy's bed. Food tumbled out, but so did little bits of metal and toys and games and all sort of paraphernalia that was just so Tyson it brought a smile to Percy's face.

"Breakfast," Tyson repeated as he pulled a jar of peanut butter towards his brother, along with some seaweed, a pack of jelly beans, and some strange orange and purple fruit Percy had never seen before in his life. He glanced at the odd array then back at his brother's hopeful face.

He tried to say 'thanks but no thanks' or something along those lines but the mere act of speaking felt exhausting so Percy merely smiled at Tyson and tapped his arm gratefully. Tyson beamed, but worry still lurked in his eye.

"Eat," Tyson entreated.

With a sigh, Percy went for the safest option: the jellybeans. Not exactly the breakfast of heroes, but hey give him some slack. He was sick, thousands of miles away from home and did not want to disappoint Tyson's wide hopeful eye. He popped a blue jelly bean in his mouth and sucked on it, intent on savoring the tart flavor. Instead, his throat burned at the intrusion and he ended up spitting it right back out. Tyson's smile dropped and Percy immediately felt guilty. He forced a smile, but he started sneezing a moment later and that rather ruined any comfort he might have given.

He leaned against the bedframe, exhausted. Sneezing really should not have taken so much out of him, he was a demigod for gods' sake! He could face the entire titan army but could not even sit straight after a couple of sneezes? Pathetic.

Tyson, bless his heart, tried to keep Percy entertained. He showed Percy some of the things he had created down in the deep sea forges. Every token he put in Percy's palm amazed the half-blood. He could not believe the amazing and beautiful things his brother created. He grinned at all the right moments and traced their intricate patterns as Tyson babbled about how he made them and what they reminded him of.

"Like Amphitrite," Tyson explained as he showed Percy a bracelet he called the pearl of the sea.

At the mention of his step mother, Percy froze. He had completely forgotten about her. What did she think, having her husband's other child, the one by another woman, down here? Percy felt guilt worm into his heart as he turned the bracelet over. He did not mean to encroach on the goddess' home. He bet she did not feel too great about having him here. Percy did not blame her. He was an ugly reminder of her husband's infidelity. Which was another uncomfortable subject he did not want to get into.

"She's not here," Tyson said, as if reading Percy's mind. "The queen wanted to visit her daddy. Brother Triton went too."

Percy felt himself relax. Oh good. Because he really did not want to leave. He was very much happy and content where he was, despite his monstrous cold.

"She would like you," Tyson continued, taking the bracelet back from Percy's fingers. Percy wanted to snort. He doubted it.

"She would!" Tyson insisted, his brown eye earnestly boring into Percy's green ones. Percy waved him off, too sick and worn to have this discussion. Tyson thankfully let it drop.

Percy leaned against the wall and let Tyson continue to entertain him. He was in the middle of telling Percy about the other cyclops he worked with when a long coughing fit hit. Instead of passing in a manner of seconds or even a minute or two, Percy kept hacking. Which, by the way, was utterly disgusting and physically draining. He could hear the phlegm gargling in the back of his throat and it just did not want to come out, no matter how hard he coughed.

Tyson overreacted. He thumped Percy on the back, hard. Besides jarring his smaller and very much mortal brother, it did not really do anything. That's when he started calling out for Poseidon.

A/n Another story that was suppose to be a one-shot but ran away from me. I split it up into two parts because it just felt too long on its own. Isn't sick Percy just the cutest? I love him. And I honestly would love to write a meeting between Amphitrite and Percy, and I keep meaning to do that, but it just doesn't fit in this story. But I do think, after a rocky beginning, they would make Poseidon's life a lot more interesting together. I have a lot of headcanons about them okay? Part Two will be up next week. And if anybody is reading my other story "The Fairy Tale Collection" I am about half way through and should start posting, if not next week, then the week after.

Please drop a review and tell me what you think :) As always, I hope you enjoyed ~ *