Work Text:
Living with Sally and Percy Jackson, Tyson learned a few things about the world.
First: a real hero always stands up for others. Second: the dark wasn't so scary if you had company. Third: Annabeth Chase was awesome. She was a demigod, just like Percy – a daughter of Athena and Percy's best friend. Percy talked about Annabeth a lot, so much that Tyson got used to hearing little facts about her, dropped into conversations that had nothing to do with her at all.
There was a night during dinner, they were having meatloaf, Tyson remembered because he had three servings. Percy poked at his plate, quiet for a second.
"I wonder if Annabeth ever had this," he muttered, mostly to himself.
"Had what?" Tyson asked, mouth full.
"Meatloaf." Percy shrugged. "She'd probably have thoughts about it."
"About meatloaf?" Tyson asked examining the food on his plate. What was there to have thoughts about?
"It's Annabeth. She have opinions about everything." Warmth spread acroos his face as he said it.
"Annabeth sounds like a really smart girl. I can't wait to meet her." Sally said, her eyes wrikling at the corners as she took a sip of her water glass. Tyson agreed he really couldn't wait to meet Annabeth Chase.
When Tyson first got there, he wasn't too sure if he would fit into their house. Their apartment was warm and small. It always smelled like the blue colored sweets Sally baked and the candles she kept by the windows. He usually had to duck a little going through doors, but it was alright, he liked how close everything was. He still recalled his first morning there, he'd finally got a good night of sleep after endless days being bullied by monsters on the streets. Sally smiled and placed a plate with blue pancakes in front of him, like he was already part of their family.
"Mail come in yet?" Percy asked for the third time that day. Sally wasn't home so Tyson knew he was talking with him. He always got impatient on days the mail came. That usually meant a letter from Annabeth or Goren, his other best friend. He would always light up when he got news from his friends. Tyson got used to it by now. Sometimes Percy would wait by the windows while doing his homework, ears tuned for the mail truck. He started getting impatient too. He'd learned to want the mail almost as much as Percy did.
"No," Tyson said. "But I'll let you know when I hear the big truck." He kept his eye on the clock, hands steady around the gears. He'd accidentally knocked it over when they were cleaning up last week. He promised Sally he would fix it, even if she insisted it wasn't necessary. He was good at fixing things!
Percy still checked the windows anyway. When Tyson finally heard the truck rumble down the street, he called out, and Percy was at the door before he even finished speaking.
Percy walked back in, a pile of mail in one hand, his gaze locked on the single envelope in the other. His hand drifted towards the side table without looking, the pile slipped from his grip before it landed, fanning out pitifully across the couch, a few pieces sliding to the floor.
“Is it from Annabeth?” Tyson started picking out the envelopes, stacking them neatly on top of the table. Sally hated when the house got messy.
“Yes.” There was something soft in Percy's voice. His shoulders dropping with a sigh. He didn't say anything else. Just walked straight into his room, letter in hand. Tyson didn't understand why, but sometimes he'd open them on the couch, other times he'd disappeared into his room. When Percy came back out, his cheeks were stained pink and he wouldn't quite meet his eye. Tyson didn't meant to listen, but he really couldn't help it – Percy's heart was going fast, quicker than usual, like he just went running.
“Is everything alrigh—” Tyson got up.
“Annabeth sent me a picture.” Percy said it in a single breath.
"Really?" He'd noticed Percy was holding something. “Can I see?”
Tyson had always been curious what Annabeth looked like. Percy talked about her so much that he felt like he knew her – but at the same time he had no face to put her name to. Percy hesitated. Tyson watched while he held the picture close to his chest, thumbs brushing against the edges. But in the end, he handed it over. In the photo he saw a smiling girl with warm brown skin, hair in long braids falling down her shoulders, she was pointing to the big white building with rows of columns behind her.
“That's the Lincoln Memorial.” Tyson pointed at it. Percy nodded, staring at the picture.
“Yes." His face lit up. "Annabeth loves these things, she wants to be an architect—”
“—architect,” Tyson said at the same time as him. Percy raised his eyes, surprised.
“You told me that before.” Tyson didn't mind hearing it again. He got to know a lot about Annabeth through Percy. He knew that she was the head of Athena's cabin – and the best at capture the flag – that she went home to stay with her dad for the year, and that she had never watched any movies, but Percy was working on changing that!
“Did I?” Percy's voice cracked a little when he asked.
Tyson hummed, nodding.
"Oh." Percy murmured, color darkening on his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh—"
"You what?" Tyson tilted his head, clock forgotten in his hands.
"Nothing," Percy took the picture from him. "When will mom come home?" He walked to the window, like the conversation had already ended.
Tyson didn't see the picture again for a long time after that. But he noticed that sometimes, when they were doing homework at the kitchen table, Percy would go quiet over his binder, pencil forgotten in his hand, something seemed to hold his eyes there. If he or Sally tried to sneak a peek, Percy would close it fast, pink creeping up his cheeks. Sometimes when this happened, Sally would wink at him behind Percy's back with a knowing smile. Tyson didn't know what she was winking for and what her smile knew, but he would always wink his one eye back at her in solidarity – he couldn't imagine what it was like having two eyes, maybe it hurt.
One time the three of them went to an amusement park together. Tyson had never been to one before. It was bustling with people. First thing that hit him was the screaming. Music overlapping from many directions, kids running everywhere. It smelled like popcorn, hot metal and too many humans. But Tyson didn't complain. He didn't want Sally and Percy to think he couldn't handle it. Percy couldn't sit still on the bus ride there. He'd been talking non-stop about the new roller-coaster.
When they finally got to try it, Percy was basically bouncing on his feet, unable to stay still. Tyson had a bit of trouble settling in. He was too big for his seat, knees pressing against the safety bar. Throughout the ride, he finally understood why there was so much screaming. The cart would go up very high and it dropped down at a sickening speed, he felt like he'd fly out of his seat at any moment. But still, he couldn't help the warm feeling bubbling up inside him as they got out – he was dizzy, heart beating fast, and he weirdly wanted to go again.
"Did you boys have fun?" Sally strolled towards them, a drink in one hand, and two water bottles tucked under her other arm for them.
"Yes!" Percy said uncapping and gulping down his water. His hair was all over the place and his cheeks were flushed.
"I'm dizzy," Tyson managed, swaying on his feet. He felt Sally pat his back, sympathetic.
"Mom, you have to try it." Percy tugged on her sleeve.
Sally looked up at the ride behind them and visibly shivered.
"I'll pass on that, honey." She fixed Percy's hair.
"I can't wait to write about this to Annabeth." Percy murmured, under his breath, but Tyson heard. "Mom, you think girls like rollercoasters?" He asked as they walked towards the next rides.
Sally's mouth twitched, as if she was holding back a smile. "Depends on the girl. Why, do you have anyone in mind?" But Percy deflected, pointing at the Ferris Wheel, claiming Tyson would love it.
The Ferris Wheel actually made Tyson even dizzier. They tried the bumper cars next – his favorite, even if they were too small for him and he had to fold himself awkwardly to fit them – and a carousel that Percy claimed to be too childish but he still rode it twice. Tyson decided he really liked the amusement park, and he'd like to come back again sometime. Sally bought them food Tyson had never tried before, like cotton candy that melted on his tongue and was so sweet it made the back of his throat hurt, and a hot dog dripping with more toppings than he could name.
Later, Sally told them she would sit down for a bit to rest, but they could keep playing. While they were walking around, Percy suddenly stopped, his eyes caught on something past a row of shooting games. Tyson followed his gaze to a shelf full of prizes, dusty stuffed animals, crowns and plastic swords hanging off nails. Near the edges, almost hidden by a big green gorilla, there was a small stuffed owl, round eyes, and colored a light purple.
"You want that?" Tyson asked, pointing at the shelf.
Percy blinked, as if he didn't realize he had stopped walking. "What? No. Why would I want an owl?" He pushed his hands in his pockets and kept moving, the tips of his ears going pink.
"Owl? I meant the big gorilla." Tyson followed, carefully dodging the crowd of humans to keep up with Percy's quick step. He hadn't mentioned any owls.
Percy didn't respond, quickly walking back to where Sally was. They went back home that day with no gorilla, but Tyson did win Sally a stuffed whale in a shooting game. Percy remained weirdly quiet the rest of the day. He slept all the way back on the bus ride, head resting against Sally's shoulder.
It wasn't until weeks later that Tyson started noticing a difference. The letters had started slowing down. Where there used to be one every week or two, now there were long stretches of nothing at all. Percy still waited impatiently by the window for the mail truck, still flipped through the envelopes one by one, just to end up disappointed when there was no letter for him.
Percy got quiet first, weird quiet. Not the type he'd get when concentrating or doing homework. This was different. He stopped asking Tyson to play video games with him after school. At dinner, he pushed the food around his plate more than he ate it, answering Sally's questions with only one word, sometimes a shrug. Once, Tyson tried showing him a compass model he was working on, and he just nodded without looking, already halfway into his room. He had been spending a lot of time in there these days.
A few nights later Sally knocked on his door with a plate full of blue cookies in her hands. Tyson's mouth watered even though he'd already eaten some, they tasted really good. Percy opened the door just enough for them to see his face, his hair was matted and lifeless, sad blond waves framing his sunken eyes.
"Cookies," Sally held the plate in his direction. "There's white and milk chocolate chunks. Your favorite."
Tyson watched Percy push the corners of his lips up in a smile that never reached his eyes. He took one cookie.
"Thank you, Mom. These smell really good." Then he closed the door again. Sally stood there for a second longer staring at the wood grain as if it might open again if she just waited long enough. Nothing happened. Her shoulders dropped. She let out a tired breath walking back to the kitchen.
The day of the incident, Percy was particularly irritated. The mail truck had come the day before, and this time, he did receive a letter from Godfrey. His face brightened with a real smile, for the first time in weeks. But it didn't last long. He soon got quiet again. Tyson couldn't understand why, and when he asked Sally about it later, she didn't seem to have answers for him either. She just mumbled something about "puberty and moody teenagers." Tyson also couldn't comprehend that. He had no idea what puberty meant, or what it had to do with teenagers.
That morning, while they were getting ready for school, Percy didn't say anything, but Tyson could tell he wasn't in a good mood by the way he grabbed his bag and walked out the door. Quick, angry steps. If Tyson's legs weren't so long, he would've been left behind.
At school they went to different classes, so Tyson didn't really see Percy until lunch time. He was waiting in line, when he heard the commotion. A crowd of kids bunched up in a circle, chanting. "FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT." Tyson didn't really pay attention to it until he caught it – "Percy Jackson and Matt Sloan are fighting!"
He immediately dropped his tray, shouldering past the humans kids twice his width, trying not to knock anyone down. His heart was pounding faster than it did on any rollercoasters. Matt Sloan was a mean bully who always picked on Percy.
Unfortunately he got there too late.
Percy had already thrown the first punch. The other boy staggered, hand pressed against his nose. He didn't get back up. He just stayed there, staring up at Percy, as if he couldn't quite believe he had actually fought back. Percy stood over him, chest heaving, jaw tight in a way Tyson had never seen before, one closed fist as if he was ready to hit Matt again if he dared to get up, on his other hand a crumpled paper that looked like a photograph. A teacher was already weaving their way through the crowd, screaming for everyone to back up.
Tyson slipped through the kids and quietly stood in front of Percy. He checked his arms, his face, anywhere for visible injuries but there was nothing he could see. For a second, he didn't look like Percy at all. Just an angry boy, worriedly smoothing down a picture. Maybe that's what Sally meant by moody teenagers and their puberty.
The teacher – Mr. Reyes – dispersed the crowd and then marched both boys back to the front office. Tyson followed, refusing to be peeled away. Mr. Reyes lectured them the whole way there. Matt kept interrupting and trying to shift the blame onto Percy. Who didn't say a word. His focus narrowed to just the photo in his hands, Annabeth's picture, the corner still bent from whatever happened in the fight.
They ended up sitting outside of the principal's office. Matt sat two chairs down, an ice bag pressed against his nose. Sally had been called in. Percy still hadn't said a word since the teacher pulled them apart. He had the photo flat against his knee, trying to smooth out the torn corner with his thumb over and over again.
Almost half an hour passed before Sally walked out the principal's office, her face closed off, unreadable. She didn't raise her voice or ask them any questions right there in the hallway, just called them both and they walked out of school, she rested a hand on Percy's shouder briefly.
When they got home, Sally called Percy into his room, saying they should talk.
Once again, Tyson didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help it. He had good hearing, and he wanted to know – why Percy had fought at school, why he'd been acting like this for days.
"It's been a while since I had been called into your school," Sally started, her voice careful. "Do you wanna talk about what happened?"
A pause.
"No." Percy's voice came out small. Tyson heard Sally sigh, long and deep.
"Percy—"
"Mom, why dont you just give me the punishment? I'll accept it. I know I shouldn't have fought." He sounded tired. Annoyed even, in a way he usually wouldn't be, not with Sally.
There was silence again. Then a soft rustle, as if Sally had sat down by his side.
"Percy, I'm just trying to understand. I know you. You wouldn't have fought someone for no reason."
More silence.
"Is it because of this?" Sally asked. And for the first time ever Tyson wished he could see through doors. "She's very important to you, right?"
Annabeth. Tyson was sure of it now, it was about the picture.
"She's my best friend." Percy said. "Of course she's important to me."
"Mm" Sally hummed. "I understand." What? What did she understand? Tyson wanted to understand too. "Is that why you've been acting like this lately?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Percy's voice dropped low, faltering a little bit.
"Percy…" Sally trailed off, sighing. They both went quiet for a while, until Percy spoke again, quieter than before. "I'm worried about Annabeth."
"Why? Did something happen to her?" Sally asked.
"I don't know." Percy's frustration showed through his voice. "She hasn't sent me a single letter in weeks. Even Grover managed to send me one, and he's on the other side of the world."
"Oh, honey…" Something shifted in Sally's voice, softer now. "I see now."
"See what?" Percy asked and Tyson nodded, what did she see?
"You miss her a lot right?" She asked. There was no response from Percy. But he heard Sally's quiet voice. "Come here." More rustling and Tyson wondered if they were hugging. They probably were. Sally gave the best hugs.
"I really wish I had a drachma right now." He heard Percy say, low and muffled.
"I know, honey, I know." Sally whispered. "Are you hurt anywhere?" She asked, softly.
"No. As if I'd let that stupid meathead hit me— ow, Mom!" Tyson winced in sympathy. He'd felt that pinch before.
"Don't do that again. You're grounded for a week, no more games after school."
"… Fine." Percy sighed, heavily.
"And sweetheart, as adorable as it is that you want to carry Annabeth's photo around with you everywhere—"
"I don't wanna— What do you mean adorable?" Percy's voice jumped, indignant. Tyson wondered if his cheeks were getting redder, they usually did when Annabeth was mentioned.
"… you should probably keep it safe here, at home. So you don't risk getting it ruined."
He heard more rustling in the room. Footsteps. Sally was coming out. Tyson's eye widened. He was just standing there in the hallway, listening – definitely not eavesdropping – a conversation he wasn't supposed to hear. His gaze swept over the hallway and there was nothing he could use to help himself. Sally's steps got closer to the door. He turned to the paintings on the hallway wall and pretended to be very interested in them, just as she stepped out.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Tyson? What are you doing here?"
"Uh… looking at the…" He forgot what they were. "Paintings! I really like flowers and butterflies." He pointed at the wall, avoiding eye contact.
Sally's mouth curved, the same almost-smile she'd given Percy at the amusement park, but she didn't call him out any further. "Percy's in his room, if you wanna talk. I know you're worried about him," she said instead, patting his shoulder on her way out.
He waited about three whole seconds after she rounded the corner before he dropped the act and went directly into Percy's room. He was sitting down on his bed, still turning the picture over in his hands.
"Is it ruined?" Tyson approached hesitantly.
Percy glanced up at him. "Just a little bit. The corner is torn."
"Im sorry, Percy." Tyson was good at fixing things but he didn't know how to fix torn paper.
"I should be the one apologizing." Percy's mouth twisted, something between a smile and a wince. "I've been a shitty friend to you lately, huh?" He didn't meet Tyson's eye.
"Don't say that." Tyson crouched so he was closer to Percy's height. "I don't know what shitty means, but it doesn't sound good. You're not that." Percy was his best friend. He kept Tyson company, played games with him, and protected him from bullies.
"Thank you, big guy." Percy said. Something in him relaxing.
They stayed quiet for a while, until Percy got up suddenly. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?" Tyson asked, following him.
"To get ice cream. And then to the stationery store"
Tyson licked his vanilla ice cream while he and Percy stood in front of a row of tape at the stationery store. They've been standing there for twenty minutes.
"Why are we here again?" he asked, turning to Percy.
"Looking for tape," Percy muttered, brows furrowed as if he was deep in thought.
"Here." Tyson picked a simple roll and handed it to him.
"Not that." Percy put it back. "That one is ugly."
"Then what?" Tyson asked.
"I need something different." He walked down the aisle, pulling a few rolls out and studying them very seriously. He held one up, it had small yellow ducks in it, turned it over, then shook his head putting it back.
"That one has ducks on it. Ducks are cute," Tyson pointed out.
"Ducks are stupid," Percy said, already moving to the next shelf.
"Teenagers," Tyson murmured shaking his head, mimicking Sally's tone.
It took Percy at least fifteen more minutes to finally choose a roll of washi tape.
By the time they got back home, the sun was already starting to rest, dipping low outside his window. Tyson sat on Percy's bed watching as he taped Annabeth's picture to his mirror.
Percy peeled off a strip of tape, measuring it against the corner of the picture, before pressing it down, smoothing it flat with his thumb. He did the same with on the other side, checking if the picture was straight, adjusting a centimeter to the left then back again.
"I think it's good now," Tyson said. Percy had been at this for some time and he was getting bored.
"Almost." Percy leaned back, squinting at it as if he was hanging a piece of art in a museum.
Once he was finally satisfied, Percy stepped back to admire it – Annabeth, smiling, framed by black-and-white polka dots. Tyson watched him. He wondered what was so fascinating about this picture that kept Percy staring at it with that look on his face.
"What about Gohan?" Tyson asked, suddenly remembering something.
"What?" Percy's eyes reluctantly left Annabeth's picture and moved to him. "Who's Gohan?"
"The satyr! You have a picture of him too, remember?" Tyson recalled that day well. Sally had baked blue cupcakes, the kitchen smelled like melted butter and warm sugar, he and Percy worked on the blue icing while the cupcakes cooled on the counter. Sally had let them decorate it. The mail came in while they were still licking frosting of their fingers, Percy had a streak of it across his cheek that he didn't notice until much later. Gohan had also sent him a picture from some faraway place, he was searching for Pan, the god of the wild.
Percy blinked as if he'd genuinely forgotten it existed. "Oh, right." He dug through his messy desk, searching for a while, until he finally pulled it out. "Aha!" he held the picture up. Tyson looked at it. The photo was still smeared with blue icing across Glendon's smiling face.
"It's dirty," Tyson pointed out, and Percy tried to rub it with his sleeve, but the icing seemed glued to it.
"It's okay, we can still see his face," Percy stuck the picture to the mirror without much ceremony, across from Annabeth's photo. No tape. Just tucked half-under the corner of the glass, slightly crooked.
"Also, his name is Grover." Percy took a step back looking at his work.
"Really? I could swear it was Goater." Tyson mumbled, and Percy laughed, the corner of his eyes wrikling.
Tyson looked at the two pictures, each on one side – one framed carefully by polka dots, the other slightly crooked, still a little sticky with old frosting.
"Time for dinner!" Sally's voice echoed down the hall.
"Finally." Percy grinned, already halfway to the door. "I'm starving," he said. Tyson agreed following him out. The smell of dinner already drifting down the hall.