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The god Poseidon ran into the bedroom, slid down the door, and had to try very, very hard to hold in a scream. This was not good. This was not good at all.
This was actually fantastic and couldn’t be better, but on the other hand, this was the worst thing to possibly happen, ever, ever, ever. Oh by all the Olympians who he did not hate, Perseus was going to kill him. Zeus was going to kill him. Sally was going to kill him.
Perseus was going to kill him because he lied to his mother, and Zeus is going to kill him. After all, he is a jealous whinge bag who can’t mind his own business, and Sally is first going to divorce him, make Perseus shun him, and then kill him. One because he lied to her, but Poseidon felt that might not have been the biggest problem Sally would have with this situation. Two, she knows about gods, and she will never, ever trust any other man ever again. She will fear they are a god, and she will be lonely and cold, and not getting everything she deserves.
And by the fates, it would have been fine, he would have been able to stay and keep the ruse up for a few more years where she would have friends and other people to support her and everything she deserved. But no, Gaea was rising, their forms were trying to separate, and Zeus was paranoia incarnate with Jupiter's inability to care about anything other than the sanctity of Rome meant there was to be a no-contact rule put in place to placate that. No demigods should know about their parents being anything other than perfect gods. Don't worry Zeus they already know that. This means that Poseidon and Neptune, and incidentally Paul Blofis would have to live in his small, cramped living quarters on Olympus, and not his wonderful palace under the sea, or the place where he had felt peace and love. The New York apartment. He would not even be able to go to Montauk.
He would probably not be there for the birth of his child. Again.
Poseidon could not believe he had another child, with the same woman, and he didn't even have the excuse that Zeus had that it was both his Greek and Roman.
It all started because Poseidon, the Greek god of the oceans, protector of all sea creatures, and father of Perseus Jackson, stuttered out that his name was Blowfish, at an aquarium.
“Sorry, did you just say Blowfish?” Sally (although the woman did not know he knew her name) asked with a highly suspicious and annoyed face. One that all but shouted that she did not want to be dealing with this today. If he had to be honest, his attempt at starting a conversation was poor at best. Even worse than his attempt to keep it going.
Her hand was creeping towards what Poseidon could see in the aquarium window, which was a small celestial gold dagger, her heart rate increasing in panic even as her breathing stayed the same. He also started to feel nervous, and a little bit ill. So much so that the fishes started to get agitated.
Again his heart stuttered even harder, her face was almost carved in the same fierceness Perseus often displayed in front of the Olympians. Just like it did when he first saw her on the beach. Amphitrite always liked her, and when she heard her name she thought it sounded like her name Salacia, and allowed his wandering hands due to this.
“ I shall take this as you honoring me, worship her as you would worship me. Sally, Salacia she shall be my priestess while you two elope.”
She was less pleased with the demi-god child I produced, however, knew that I allowed her hers.
As he floundered around for something to say, something not embarrassing, and not like the shovel talk he gave Ariel’s human mate. Because apparently, that was bad enough for both Ariel and Edmund (or was that Erik?) to stop sacrificing to him, and Triton banned him from interacting with his daughter's mortal (or otherwise) significant others.
Especially after Pallas, Poseidon was reluctant to interact with Triton's children for fear of them getting hurt again. Just as his separation and ever-worsening relationship with Athena was also a result.
“ Ah, no, sorry common mistake,” ok going well, he could definitely salvage the situation, “Blofis. B-l-O” He started panicking again, how do you spell English? He was a Greek God who spoke Greek, Latin, and a myriad of underwater dialects and most coastal languages, yet he couldn't spell the fake name he made up on the spot. “F-I-S? Sorry, I don’t know what came over me there. Can’t believe I forgot how to spell my own name.”
The laugh he let out sounded fake to his ears, the fish in the tanks gave him looks. Significant long looks, as if regretting their subservience.
He could see her face shifting again, “Ah enough about my embarrassing spelling ability, for gods sake I am an English teacher” Gods? God? Whichever, at least it sounded like a slip of the tongue. “And I cannot even spell my own name. What about you, a beautiful woman like you needs a name just as sweet.”
Ok, nailed it.
The rest was not so much history, but several painful moments where he panicked, and panicked and panicked enough that he bumbled through and was apparently so different not even Percy could tell he was Poseidon. He was panicking like a child so much and for so long he basically created a new persona.
Paul Blofis, God of panicking gods trying (not?) to seduce a mortal who he had already seduced and who probably hated him because he knocked her up and left her and their child, and totally fucked up their first couple of meetings. And apparently English teachers. Poseidon was proud of himself for that one, Percy was doing very, very well in English now.
(No that was not him calling in Athena to help him teach. At least he didn’t murder her grandchild!)
Was this what Percy felt like whenever he was talking to that Athena girl? Her certainly always looked slightly flushed, with a dazed expression on his face, and Poseidon was close enough with Aphrodite to know he wasn’t sick in the traditional sense.
Just love-sick.
If so, Poseidon could understand how he stayed, probably too scared to look like a fool in front of the girl. Or maybe not, Poseidon didn’t really do the romance thing too often, he wasn’t a, as the mortals call it, fuckboi like Zeus. Nor was he a locked away cynic like Hades.
He slammed his head against the door, with a small “I’m fine Sally, I just need a couple more hours for it to settle in!” Even halfway through his voice gave way as panic overwhelmed him again.
How does Zeus do it? Having so many tiny fragile lives all hanging on your benevolence and attention. It was bad enough that he could not look after Perseus for his safety, he could not even monitor the child for fear of him being revealed. And now with the earth starting to rise, and the Giants emerging from Tartarus, what else would happen, but the same again? He would have to separate from his family and be incapacitated on Olympus, or forced to watch them fight, or forced to watch them die. Why had he let this happen again? He should have never let this happen.
It was bad when Percy was born, the tension between him and his brother regarding the Grace girl was at an all-time high, and with Zeus furious he would not give up the location of Hades’ children it was even worse. Now he could feel the tension of the giants and Gaea stirring, as well as the slowly worsening migraine that has been plaguing him for a while, thanks to the split camps. At least this was a bonus of this child not being Roman, he wouldn’t have been able to keep the ruse up if they were.
At least his children won't be forced to fight the other due to their father being from a slightly different man.
He was thankful, in a way someone looking back often was, that he was not worshipped highly in Rome. Zeus and Jupiter, Ares and Mars, and the other major dual gods, he knew, were already suffering terribly.
Maybe he would ignore a summons again and go and be a pirate, take Sally and Percy and their new child, and start afresh on the waves. Get a laptop and Sally can write, and go and hunt ancient sea creatures with Percy and eventually the other little one. Scarring Davy Jones and Blackbeard at the same time again would have to make it to the top 3 of things that had happened in this century. Which obviously comes after his two children, just.
They were just so funny and would get so angry. Davy Jones was so scared, and Blackbeard had control of his ship! Which made high seas getaways a really fun chase. He had to bite down a scream at just how impossible that was.
“Paul? Are you alright in there? I hope that was an excited scream.” It totally was, but he was too deep in thought, and almost drowning in his tears to respond in any human manner, and decided whale was the way to go.
“Sally.” He said in a tone that spoke less of the mortal that loved Sally and was loved in return and more of the ancient god that was hiding behind the facade. “I might have to go away for a while.”
“Is it that fucking brother again, Paul I swear!” She was fuming and walking a line through the carpet. It was a beautifully woven kelp and sea grass mix Salacia had made for Sally. He stayed in that moment, watching her beautiful righteous anger, and wallowed in the fear of what he was going to say.
Wallowed in the beauty they had created several times over, and he wasn’t just talking about their children. There had been such few moments recently where he had truly felt alive. The migraine was hammering on his brain, and he knew there was very little time before he was re-called, and he had to see Percy.
Hera was up to something, and it was always Percy who was in the middle.
“Sally,” he said again, now sounding more like the swirling tides than the voice of a mortal, and he could see Sally straightening her spine at the power in his voice. “I have not quite been honest with you. Olympus is calling me back, and Gaea is rising. I need to go to Olympus.”
“But!” He cried, looking like he was in agony. “You came when Paul was there! You and Paul were in the same room! I saw you together!”
Poseidon sighed, they had already gone over this. Several times, but it seemed to be one of the things Percy was stuck on, despite other things being, much, much more important. “This is not the time!”
His son was storming around their cabin, veritably looking like Typhon himself in his anger. He really had grown since that small 12-year-old had mailed the head of Medusa to the throne room of Olympus.
“Perseus I understand-”
“Stop! Just stop!” His voice was straining in a way that spoke of latent power and songs, they would have to come back to that later.
“Stop looking like Paul! You’ve lied and lied and lied and now you dare try and look like the one father who fucking stuck around!”
“Stuck around?” Poseidon was an angry, emotional god, but he thought he had good emotional control where his children are concerned, he hardly got angry at them. But now, this was pushing him. “Perseus,”
“DON’T CALL ME THAT! YOU - I,” he took a breath.
“Either call me Percy or look” he cast around frustrated as if the word was written on the wall. “Different. Paul never called me Perseus unless he was angry. And you would know that if you were actually Paul and you were actually there.”
Poseidon let that hang in the air for a few moments to see if Percy would take it back. The boy stared back at him as if he were the problem as if he were the one who was being obstinate and childish. There was very little time, and Poseidon was doing all he could to protect him, to protect his mother and he was throwing it in his face. The mulish look on his face was a look he was very familiar with, as well as the stubbornness that ran just below it. If only the child could see reason!
One more chance, he would give the boy one more chance to back down.
“Perseus, calm down. Now. I am both Paul and Poseidon, I am your father. And you know why I could not be there for you. You know I offered your mother everything. You know I tried!”
The ‘and she turned me down’ was left unsaid, but it was blatant that Perseus heard it clearly enough.
“Oh yeah because obviously, it was her fault, at 18, she just had to fall down at your what several thousand years worth of knowledge, and let you bulldoze everything she ever wanted. Or, or was it her fault she fell for your ruse again, did you actually love her? Did Paul actually love her?”
Even now Poseidon could feel the anger and the power resonating off Perseus, it was battling his tightly held control viciously. This was getting far too out of hand, Perseus was getting far too angry and forgetting his place.
“Perseus, I would watch your tone if I were you.”
Poseidon's tone was hard, he was angry and worried, and scared. All reflecting the pain and anger on his son’s face, which hardened as soon as the words left his mouth.
“There it is again! Stop it!”
“Stop what? What do you want me to stop doing.” It was the closest he would get to sarcasm, wherever Percy, Perseus, had gotten that from, it was not him.
“Calling me that! You- Paul, would never call me that, Mum would never call me that. I only get called that if someone's is pissed off!”
“Well now I am pissed off, Perseus, so will you listen to me explain that my sister is trying to meddle again or-”
He was cut off by a noise so viscerally angry and so viscerally inhuman he blinked in shock as his son continued to rage in front of him.
“Or what! Father! You’ll kill Mum? Kill me? Pretend to be a mortal again and ruin her life again!”
What in all the gods' name was he talking about, Poseidon had given her the greatest gift in all the lands, the greatest hero to ever live. He had tried to save her from poverty, he had tried to give her everything. Now this boy was trying to tell him that he ruined her life!
“I never ruined her life!”
“YES! Yes, you did! Because I Ruined it! And now you’ve gotten her pregnant again, and fucking left AGAIN. And now you're trying to make me focus on HERA of all people. When you tricked Mum, for years and tricked ME.” The earth shook minutely, the only bit of power escaping from Poseidon's ever-slimming control, neither one of them would last much longer with their emotions so highly strung.
Perseus was being emotional and childish and if he did not want to hear his warning before he was unable to contact him again, then so be it. Children had to learn. He stood, forcing his aura outwards, almost feeling guilty at how he forced Percy’s legs to reject his weight. Sending him careening into the bed with a thump and a glare.
“Fine, if you want to believe you and I ruined her life then I will leave. We will be talking again about this. Perseus. Let me know when you want to act like the hero of Olympus and not a child.” The back door facing the door blew open and he stormed out, he did not know if he expected Percy - it was Perseus, he was angry - to follow, but he shouldn’t have ever bothered to think he wouldn’t.
He was nothing if not Poseidon’s son, and Poseidon always had to have the last say.
“Fine, when Olympus wants to treat me like a Hero, I’ll be here. I am no slave, and neither is Mum!” and the door slammed behind him.
Poseidon waded into the lake, angry and fearful that his son would no longer look to him for guidance. Even if he had not done this in the best way, his son was not listening to him. Never listened to him when his mother was involved.
“Stupid, stupid child.”
His head crested the ever-growing waves at the exact moment the very well-hidden statue of Hera moved towards his vulnerable, trusting, and distracted son.