Chapter Text
For the first time in a while, Percy thought about his childhood. Not with Annabeth during their conversations about Luke, not with Nico when they were talking about the trauma of being a Big Three kid, not even with his mom over baking cookies. Just in a plain therapist's office after Jason had recommended him to go.
"I swear Percy, it'll really help with the nightmares and the flashbacks. Please just trust me," Jason had said.
Percy had always been off-put by Jason (must be because of the rival camp or the rival parent...or both) but he grabbed the business card out of Jason's calloused hands and stuffed it in his pockets. Therapy offices were common in New Rome, but there was only one near Camp Half-blood, and Percy couldn't risk going to a mortal therapist. He knew he needed help, but he forgot about the card until one particular nightmare. It brought back horrific memories about Gabe and his mother. The yelling, screaming, loud TV, police sirens. Annabeth found him in the bathroom staring himself down in the mirror three hours later.
Marshal didn't need to even speak to Percy before knowing who he was. He's Percy fucking Jackson, the savior of Olympus (twice), he didn't need a formal introduction. The first session went okay, it was just an overview of what was going to happen in the next however long this treatment was going to take. Marshal already knew of Percy's quests and basically had a diagnosis of PTSD ready to go, a fact she didn't admit until he was referred fo a psychiatrist who agreed strongly. And then, it happened.
"So, what was your childhood like?"
Percy paused, "Before the whole demigod thing right?"
Marshal nodded and Percy sighed and sat in silence for half a minute before answering, "Bad. It was bad."
Marshal jotted that down, "Can you tell me any details? Is that okay with you?"
"My mom, she's so strong, she's the strongest woman I know, needed help. Being a son of Poseidon, the demigod smell was strong. She needed someone to cover it up. That's when Gabe came in, he was so horrible to us."
"How was he horrible?"
"He...he hit me.....he hit my mom even though I didn't know it at the time," Percy closed his eyes, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."
Marshal nodded, took a couple of notes in his notebook, and then asked, "Have you ever been suicidal?"
Sessions passed. Percy shut down Marshal's concerns about his childhood. There were more important things to get through. He could deal with his childhood issues by himself for an extra year. Percy's survivor's guilt was stubborn. He texted Marshal at least two times a week. Percy was halfway texting Marshal about his latest panic attack when a voice in his head told him that no one cared. No one would ever care. Pathetic, annoying kid. Percy put his phone down, the text on the screen still halfway written. He cried himself to sleep for the first time since high school that night.
Days passed and Percy spent them in bed. "...depressive episode, I'm sure of it," he heard Nico say to Annabeth when he came over to check on him, "Just make sure he's eating and drinking water, give him space but not too much. Pretend he's a really sad cat." Percy wanted to smile but his face was so tired and worn. He was tired and worn. He could barely say good morning to Annabeth when she kissed his cheek and told him she loved him. He didn't pick up when Marshal called him. He ate half a cookie one day and 5 meals the next. Percy thought he was born with a weight on his chest, it had always been heavy, but this was too heavy. He couldn't even call his stepdad on his birthday.
Annabeth handed Percy the phone when Marshal called and then left the room. "I haven't left my bed in a week," Percy didn't mean to blurt that out.
Marshal shuffled papers on the other end, "What happened?"
"I don't know. I just got such a bad feeling in my stomach and the voice in my head just began being so mean. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know," Percy's voice began wavering, his eyes were slightly stinging, "I don't know how much longer I can live like this."
After an hour and a half of talking about Percy's symptoms, Marshal referred him to a psychiatrist.
He had to get up today. There was something to actually do, something that will make him feel so much better. The weight on top of Percy's chest didn't budge. He texted Annabeth to get him some water in hopes it'd make him feel better, but the weight stayed the same. He texted the psychiatrist saying he wouldn't be able to make it because of family issues. Percy slept for the whole week after that.
On the day of his rescheduled appointment, he sat in the bath. He sat there, naked, staring at his legs, not moving anything. The only noise was the water drops falling from the faucet. Annabeth barged in after 30 minutes of silence, thinking he had hurt himself. She was ready with an ace bandage in hand and a worried look on her face. When she saw the state Percy was in, she kneeled next to the bathtub, kissed him on the cheek, and began washing his hair for him.
This wasn't the first time they had done this. The person in the bathtub switched a lot. Especially after Tartarus. Percy barely felt Annabeth's fingers intertwined between his curls. Barely felt the water from the detachable showerhead washing the shampoo and later condition out of his hair. Barely felt Annabeth wrapping his hair in a towel.
"Percy," his girlfriend's voice was confirmation that he wasn't in a dream, "I need you to get up for me, can you do that?"
He wanted to shake his head and stay in the water for the next 4 months, but slowly, he got up. Annabeth wrapped a bathrobe around him. Nudity between them was no longer as scandalous as it was when they were 16, but Annabeth just wanted him to be warm. Percy leaned on his girlfriend while walking to their room, he was glad that she was strong enough to support his weight.
The psychiatrist's room was duller than Marshal's. The stark white walls made Percy feel on edge. It felt like he was being sent away to a mental hospital. Annabeth was there with him. The psychiatrist asked him to fill out questionnaires, then to draw his blood. He officially diagnosed Percy with depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. And then he prescribed Prozac.
The medication made Percy more on edge. Him staring at the ceiling until sunrise became more frequent. Loud noises from outside his and Annabeth's apartment were always monsters to his brain. He stepped out looking for them, Riptide in hand before he saw a cat rummaging through the trash. Percy wasn't a truly anxious person anymore. He had anxiety, but not anxiety. But this was different than his regular dose of anxiety. His mind wandered to impossible ideas with just as impossible outcomes for hours. He obsessed over every little thing he said, wondering if he was doing everything right. Everything just always felt off, like there was something in the shadows waiting for relaxation so they could pounce.
These feelings brought memories from his childhood. Everything was so loud all the time and overwhelming. He felt all eyes on him at all times. He'd even stayed awake for a whole night wondering why it was him that the gods chose to punish. He figured it was because he was born after the oath. Percy was born cursed, there was no fixing that, so he deserved to feel this way. That thought didn't stop the shakiness that Percy now recognized as an everyday part of his life again.
Piper and Leo were over. Percy got close to them after Jason left for high school in California. To his surprise, they got along well and fit together like pieces in a puzzle.
"Y'all look what I got!" Leo pulled out a pack of beers.
"No shit, Leo," Piper said while prying a beer off of the rest, "thanks. Uhh, Percy do you want one?"
Percy couldn't blame Piper or Leo for bringing alcohol in his house. They all knew that he had some sort of trauma growing up, but he'd never specified that it involved alcohol. With a throat full of cotton, he shook his head. Percy watched as his friends got drunk and couldn't help but feel nervous. His hands were shaking, his palms were sweaty. At one point Piper got too close to him and he could smell the alcohol on her tongue. They aren't like Gabe, they won't hurt you purposefully, they care. Percy tried to calm himself down but nothing worked. He threw up 3 times after Leo and Piper left with Annabeth by his side, rubbing his back.
He told Marshal about that night, and when Marshal pressed further on the bruise that was his childhood, Percy actually answered. Gabe, the school system, the school bullies, the fear he feels whenever someone drinks around him. Percy feels himself shake, his vision blurs, he hears the cracks in his voice. The words in his mouth tasted like blood. Especially when talking about Gabe. He was breaking their "guy secret" or whatever the fuck Gabe called it. The thought of Gabe yelling at him made Percy close off himself from Marshal. Marshal stares at him and simply says, "I'm proud of you. Thank you for sharing that with me." In his car,
Percy breaks down for what seems like five hours.
The next session is when Marshal suggests that Percy talks to his mother about his feelings. "I know the difference between mother and children going through abuse," Percy's body shook every time Marshal brought up that word, "is vast. The healing process and the coping mechanisms used can also be vast. But Percy, both of you went through the same person. She loves you. She won't get mad."
"I don't even know if she likes me," Percy mumbles as Marshal leans in forward, "who would even put their kid in such danger if they cared about them so deeply?"
This might've just been Percy's anxiety at play, but when he said those words, it felt like a piece fitting into the right place at the puzzle.
"She was desperate,"
"Not enough to ensure my safety. At least not in the way that mattered," there was a pause, "I would've rather die at the hands of the gods and monsters than at the hands of my stepfather.
"I understand why you feel this way, but please, Percy, talk to her."
His parents' apartment was larger than the place Percy grew up in. Even though he had spent the latter half of his high school years here, it still seemed foreign. After he moved out, he rarely visited this apartment, opting for his mom to come over to his place. The Prozac made Percy shift more than usual, he wondered if his parents really cared enough to have him over. This was a stupid idea, Percy thought. When he was just about to turn on his heel and stroll back to the lobby, his mother opens the apartment door.
Everything was baby proofed and Percy thought of the few times his mother had time to look for the sharp edges of the coffee table for him. Toys scattered the hallway, something Percy would've been yelled at by Gabe for doing. Hell, Estella even had her own room with a toddler bed. Percy's eyes welled with tears whenever he began thoroughly comparing Estelle's upbringing to his. He used to become so angry he made the pipes in the shower explode. While fixing them, Percy vowed to never think that deeply about it again. Besides, Sally, who was a broke dropout, had had Percy at the cusp of 20, met Gabe at 25, and spent seven years with that man.
And even though Gabe had significantly more money than his mother, they weren't comfortable. Percy often had to give up his already small allowance and bus money so his mother could afford a treat for him. He had spent ages five to seven in a small walk-in closet for a room, only moving out when his mom found out the door could only lock from the outside.
Percy was glad Estelle could have this childhood. An upbringing full of happiness, safe parents, and three guaranteed meals Sally made for her every day. A dad that kissed her goodnight and told her the great tales of King Arthur. A mom who could be there for her on the drop of a hat without any financial troubles. An apartment that instead of mold and dread lining the walls, had sounds of laughter echoing off the hallways and it always smelled of a seasonal scented candle.
Yes, he was glad his little sister could live like this. But that didn't absolve the fact that he was jealous. He wanted a mother who didn't have to choose between watching his school performance or working a job. He wanted a father who just lovingly acknowledged his existence. Estelle had that, so why couldn't he?
That's not fair, Percy, your mom was doing her best.
But was she though? Didn't Poseidon ever tell her about Camp Halfblood throughout her pregnancy? Didn't she have an option to allow Percy to train at Camp Halfblood? Did she really have to keep him trapped in a horrible household? Does she feel guilty for any of t—
"Percy!" a loud voice pierced his thoughts. His little sister came tumbling out of her room and to Percy's lap. Sally chased after her.
"I really didn't know you were coming today," Sally told him while trying to pry off Estella, "I would've made lunch for you if you had let me know beforehand,"
Something about that made Percy's heartache, "No, no, it's fine. I ate on the way here," that was a lie, the only thing he had eaten for the past couple of days were baked chips and Starbucks cake pops, "My therapist recommended I see you."
Sally looked up at him, mouth slightly parted. She then gestured for Estella to leave, which she followed gleefully as she skipped down the hallway to her room. Therapy was a touchy subject around them. She always pestered him to share more and he declined almost all the time. His mother also got upset because he trusted a stranger with his secrets and not her. This subject caused their first-ever argument. Before, their few disagreements were between mother and son, her just trying to look out for his wellbeing. The therapy argument was one between adults, with both of them coming headstrong with their opinions on equal footing.
"So, why did he say that?"
"I opened up about Gabe," his mother flinched at the name, Percy looked down at the floor to avoid her expression.
"So...?"
"He said that we would heal better if we talk about it together. Since we both went through the same thing yanno, we gotta have some similarities in our story,"
"Percy, I don't think that's all there is to it."
"I don't want to get into the rest," Percy hoped his mother wouldn't press any further on the bruise.
"Okay, so what do you want to do?"
"Just....just talk....talk about the bad Ga- he has done."
After three hours of talking, there were tears on the dining table which was also scattered with tissues. It was mostly his mom talking and she had seemed to be somewhat stable enough to talk about it. It exhausted Percy to have to listen to it. He hated seeing his mom so vulnerable. As a kid, he would always dream about the day he could break him and his mom out. It was so hard to not break down sobbing.
It was only 7 PM. Sally lead him to his untouched room and let him sleep. He woke up to the sound of laughter from the kitchen. Paul was home, Estella was helping their mother cook. Sally was laughing. He stood at the doorway to his room, listening to them laugh and giggle like a truly perfect family. Percy left before a pipe broke from anger, texting his mom that he had a test and didn't want to interrupt family dinner to just leave.
“I’m angry at her. I’m so angry,” Percy said to Marshal during the next session, “God, she gave Estella the perfect fucking life. She’s so fucking happy.”
“Okay...Percy...Let’s talk this through, why exactly are you so mad? Who is this her?”
“Estella literally has the perfect fucking life. God this sounds so pathetic, I’m literally jealous of a three-year-old, but God, I wish I had that growing up.”
“Are you mad at your sister or your mother? Or just the fact that you couldn’t have a happy childhood?”
“I-,” Percy paused, thinking about where his anger was directed at, “Maybe all three?”
“Okay, which one is the most infuriating out of the two: your mother not being able to provide a happy life for you when you were a kid or your sister getting said happy life,”
“The first one,”
“Do you think you hold some hate for your mother for that?”
Percy paused as he thought of his words from a few sessions ago, “I...I think so.”
“I’m not going to push you to speak to her again, but please, mull this over with people. Your girlfriend, your friends, anyone else you deem worthy I guess. Now, how’s the Prozac working for you?”
Percy was standing in front of his mom’s apartment building, itching to go inside again. He wanted to crawl into her arms and cry. He wanted to scream, he wanted to apologize, he wanted peace. It was cold outside, and Percy was shivering beneath his coat. He knew that inside he would be greeted with warm smiles by everyone there, but he just felt like a next door neighbor instead of someone they wanted to hold close. A sigh left his body as he turned and walked in the building.