Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Percy had never particularly cared for teachers. Especially those of the English variety. So when he realized that his mom wanted him to meet her boyfriend who just so happened to be an English teacher, needless to say, he was less than pleased.

But it turned out that Paul was a cool guy, even by Percy's standards. He let Paul stick around for his mother's sake. He gave Paul permission to propose to his mom for her sake. But he was still hesitant to tell Paul about the godly side of the family he was going to get himself into. Better to let sleeping hellhounds lay, right?

His mother, apparently, thought differently.

"Percy, honey, we have to tell him at some point. He needs to know, just in case," She said softly and urgently. Paul was going to be here any minute so that they could all go out for lunch.

"But what if that gets him attacked? I won't be here forever to keep an eye on you guys you know," He said. The grey streak in his hair and the worry dancing in his eyes made him look fifty instead of fifteen, and it broke Sally's heart to know that her little boy had come to terms with his mortality in the years he was supposed to take dumb risks because he thought he was invincible.

"Percy, what if you get attacked? What if you come home hurt and I'm not there? How would Paul take care of you then? Honey, he wants to be there for you, but he can't if he doesn't know. I won't pressure you, but just think about it, okay?"

The doorbell rang, just as the two of them wrapped up their intense discussion and put on calmer masks.

"Paul!" Sally greeted smiling at her boyfriend.

"Sally," he grinned, pecking her cheek. "So are we ready to go?"

"Yep," Percy said coming out of the kitchen. He felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, like he was being watched. His fingers subconsciously reached for Riptide in his pocket, like they did when he was expecting a fight. He shook away the thought. He could go a day without being attacked, right? (He could see Annabeth rolling her eyes at him for his naivety.)

The ride to the mall was a generally quiet one, with minimal traffic, red lights, and monsters. Percy considered that a success.

"So, Percy you never did tell me what you do in that camp over the summer," Paul said conversationally as they sat around a table at a nice diner that had a view of the Empire State building.

Percy and his mom shared panicked glances before Percy forced a smile onto his face. "We do a lot of… sports training." Percy said, trying to make himself sound convincing. "Swimming, swordplay, archery, volleyball… things like that." It wasn't a complete lie. They did teach those things, but just a little bit more intensely that your average select sports team.

"Oh, I did a little bit of fencing when I was younger. Maybe I could show you a few moves when we get back," Paul offered. Percy bit his lip hard trying not to laugh. There was no way that a middle aged English teacher could teach him to use his sword better than he already could. Even Chiron had claimed that Percy was just this side of invincible when he had Riptide in his hand.

"I don't know, Paul. I'm pretty good. I wouldn't want to hurt you," To Paul, who had never seen Percy take on a monster, it sounded a bit arrogant, but Percy decided that it was better to have people think less of you and keep them safe than to hurt the people you care about.

"Oh I really want to see what you could do now," Paul said, assuming that Percy was just pretending to be invincible, as was common in his homeroom.

"No, I'm being serious Paul. It would hurt you. I've been trained to… well never mind. But I've been trained." Paul was a bit startled by the intensity of his voice and seriousness of his gaze.

He had only seen that in his grandfather, who was a Vietnam War veteran. He began to wonder if Percy had been seen a war as well, but quickly dismissed the idea.

There was no way that he looked old enough to convince military recruiters that he was eighteen. There wasn't any possible way that that the intense, faraway look he sometimes got when he got back from his "summer camp" could be mistaken for that of an older kid. There was no way that the way his words were sometimes laced with the wisdom of the millennia could convince someone that he was old enough to fight a county's wars. Right?

Paul didn't know what to make of that kid so he made a note to ask Sally later and then tried to put it out of his mind.

"So, anyway Paul," Sally intervened, "Do you want to order soon?" Her smile had become a tad fixed.

"Of course dear," Paul agreed. He ordered a Panini, with a glass of water, while Percy ordered a cheeseburger with a coke. Sally got herself a grilled cheese with some lemonade.

They all sat in awkward silence, each of them grasping for a safe topic to discuss.

"So, we've been having really interesting weather, haven't we?" There. The weather. That was pretty safe right? Apparently it wasn't.

Percy forced a laugh that even the most socially awkward Hephaestus kid could have seen right through.

"Yes, it has been strange, hasn't it? I've wondered," Sally covered smoothly. They were hiding something, Paul decided. Something having to do with Percy's summer camp… and the weather.

Percy fidgeted with a pen for a bit, and a dark cloud of worry came over Sally. Paul got more confused. A pen shouldn't have scared his practically fearless girlfriend like that.

Percy seemed to be thinking long thee same lines when he shook his head and slipped the pen back into his pocket. Another odd thing.

"Did you hear about that freak snow storm in Houston?" Sally asked, smiling so charmingly at him that he forgot everything that he was worrying about. Paul immediately felt himself respond wittily and Sally laughed. She was such a wonderful person and she was so easy to be around.

As the adults conversed about the weather laughed at jokes that would make the Stoll brothers run away for fear of such over-used clichés, Percy's mind began to wander. The feeling that there was a threat in the vicinity was getting stronger and making it nearly impossible for him to sit still.

Percy glanced out of the widow and saw something that he had really been hoping to avoid. Seven dracaenas were pacing around the front entrance of the diner waiting for him to come out. He looked out of the window to the back of the diner. There were three more. Ten of them total, one of him, and no other ways out of the diner for his untrained, and less athletic mom and her schoolteacher boyfriend.

If he had been here with Annabeth or Grover or Tyson, he could have run a frontal assault without thinking twice, or they could have just climbed out of the windows and disappeared down the street. Right now, neither of those were options. He would have to single handedly fight ten snake-ladies.

"Styx!" Percy swore, getting to his feet. He could hear Annabeth telling him that he was being stupid, but he didn't have time to come up with a better plan.

"Mom, Paul, you need to get out of here. Slip out of the back entrance and don't stop or don't look back until you get home." He was dead serious now. It was scarier than Clarisse's battle cry or the Stoll brothers' identical grins in the face of monsters. It was the calm of the ocean before it unleashed the full fury of a tsunami on some unsuspecting enemy.

"Percy, what's going on?" Paul asked, but Percy ignored him.

"There are dracaenas at the exits," Percy said urgently to his mother.

"How many are there?" Sally asked, grabbing her purse and throwing down some money without bothering to count it. She hoped it as enough.

"Doesn't matter," Percy said, not wanting to scare his mother. "I can handle them. Just get out of here."

"Sally," Paul tried again.

The Jacksons were still ignoring him, acting like Armageddon was about to go down and Paul was getting nervous as Percy went deeper into battle mode.

"Honey, be safe," Sally said, her hand lingering on Percy's shoulder.

"I love you, mom. Now go." Percy commanded, and Sally grabbed Paul's wrist and dragged him to the back door and Percy uncapped Riptide, and sprinted into the street full of dracaenas.

"Waiting for someone?" He said, to one of the snake ladies, slicing Riptide and taking off her head and dissolving her into dust. There went the element of surprise.

He had their attention now, but he didn't want to fight somewhere so crowded. If he got stuck in the pedestrian traffic, he was dead meat.

He took off running down the street leaving a trail of destruction and nine snake ladies in his wake. He made a sharp turn into a deserted alley and stood to face them.

He hacked and slashed through their ranks, exploding three more of them into dust. Six more left.

Two snake-ladies came at him at once, one grabbing his sword arm with her clawed hands, definitely leaving a cut, and the other came at him with a net, her eyes smoldering with rage.

Percy kicked the net-bearing-monster away from him and drove his shoulder into the monster that was grabbing his arm. The cut on his arm made his hand shake but he forced himself to ignore it as he slashed at another dracaena, successfully decapitating it.

He hissed in pain as another spear grazed his stomach. He was losing more blood than he cared to lose in a fight, and he knew he was a lost cause if this battle went on for much longer.

He parried a blow and wished that Annabeth was there to watch his back. He grunted and took out two more of the monsters that were trying to kill him.

Honestly! Couldn't Kronos wait to kill him for one afternoon? Was that really too much to ask? If he ever got even a second of peace in his life, the monsters would be there to mess it up.

Vaguely wondering if he would ever get a break, he deflected a spear, trapping it between the brick wall behind him and his sword. He kicked it and it snapped before he stabbed open the dracaena and she turned into dust.

Two more left, but Percy felt himself get a bit lightheaded with blood loss. One of them came at his head with a spear and Percy ducked out of the way in the nick of time. He swung his sword through her knees, breaking her open like a piñata.

Last one. Percy let himself take a breather for two seconds before springing back at her. She was angry now, considering the fact that Percy singlehandedly killed nine of her sisters.

She attacked him with everything she had and he felt himself slowly getting tired. His mind swam and he felt his attacks slowing down. Her spear slipped past his defenses a couple times scratching him up pretty badly.

Percy knew that he couldn't give up just yet. He was still on his feet. His mother was waiting for him at home. There was still a war that needed winning and a Kronos that needed defeating. And Annabeth would go personally to the Underworld and lecture him for getting himself killed.

He knew what to do. Four quests and three years of training had made sure of that.

He stepped inside her blows, deflected her spear and went on the offensive, stabbing her in the chest with a practiced motion.

Hiss. And that was the end of the dracaena.

Percy recapped Riptide and slipped it back into his pocket and staggered out into the street. He hailed a taxi, ignoring the strange looks he was getting, and arrived back at his apartment.

He clutched at the gash on his stomach, trying to staunch the blood flow and he limped through the door.

"Mom?" He called. His voice was a hoarse whisper. Thankfully his mother heard him, and came rushing into the living room.

"Gods, Percy!" She exclaimed. "What do you need?" She was already holding a bag of ambrosia, nectar, and cotton. She laid him on the couch, making sure he was comfortable, giving him a bit of ambrosia.

The smaller cuts healed instantaneously, and the blood from his stomach slowed down. His hands shaking from exhaustion, Percy peeled the bloodstained shirt off of himself and got a bit of nectar from his mom.

"Percy?" Paul gasped. He had disobeyed Sally's explicit orders to stay in the back room of the house. "Oh my god, what happened? We need to call an ambulance. And the police. Who did that to you?"

"No ambulance," Percy rasped, and he poured nectar on his cut. Percy grimaced as the nectar acted as a disinfectant on his cut which began to heal automatically.

"Percy, how many were there?" Sally demanded, pouring some water on Percy's forehead to energize him again. She personally wanted him to rest, but an attack of this magnitude meant lots of IM's and paperwork.

"Ten," Percy admitted.

"Percy!" Sally scolded gently. "You told me you could handle it."

"It's no big deal, Mom," Percy said awkwardly. "They're dead, and I'm not. The situation is handled."

"Percy, you have a very loose definition of handled," Sally said, her hands running through his hair as she crouched by the sofa he was resting on. Percy offered a smile, but he was still sickly pale so the effect was anything but comforting.

Paul was shocked. Dead? Percy was lying on the couch, his various suspicious cuts healing over too fast for any human being, and they were throwing the topic death around casually. He was unnerved to say the least.

Percy tried to lighten the situation. "I'm not that easy to get rid of," he smiled tiredly, as if the joke had darker connotations.

"You have to be more careful, sweetie," Sally sighed, helping Percy up. His cut had formed fully healed scars in the past twenty minutes.

"Percy!" Paul tried again. He was determined to have answers. Cuts didn't heal that fast. Fifteen year olds weren't in touch with their own mortality. Sally never looked that scared. Things like that didn't happen. "What on earth is going on?"

Percy glanced at him mother, who nodded encouragement. He looked a bit defeated, and a lot exhausted, but he sighed and turned to Paul.

"I'll tell you. Just hold on a second. Let me get a cleaned up." Percy requested. He wasn't laughing now. It looked like whatever Percy wanted to tell Paul was weighing on his shoulders like the weight of the sky.

Moving slowly and deliberately, like every step hurt him; Percy made his way to his room. Sally stared after him, tears threatening to fall.

"Sally, is everything alright?" Paul asked gently.

She turned towards him a fire burning in her usually soft brown eyes. "Look," she began urgently. "What Percy is going to tell you is probably going to sound crazy, but I swear it's all true. Ridiculously dangerous, but it is definitely true. Try and hear him out okay?"

"I'll try. What is he going to tell me? Why is it so dangerous? And how did he get attacked today?" Paul had never been so confused in his entire life. Sally smiled weakly at him and kissed his cheek. "That's Percy's story to tell. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. I just need a moment."

He had never been so nervous in his life, Paul reflected as he waited the ten minutes that Percy took a shower and changed out of his sweaty, bloodstained clothes.

When Percy returned, looking much better after he had cleaned himself up, Paul thought he was prepared for the worst.

"What did you want to tell me? Is it gang trouble? I know people who could help you with that." Paul said kindly, wondering what on earth could get this normally relaxed, happy go lucky kid acting nervous like the world was going to end soon.

"Gang trouble," Percy muttered, his hand messing with a beaded necklace that he always wore, looking lost in memories. "I wish it were that simple." He sighed, his fingers resting on the third bead. It looked like a maze.

If these problems made gang problems sound simple, Paul was actually afraid to hear about this.

Percy hesitated for a second and swallowed hard. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a sword.

"You might like to sit down," Percy said trying to keep his voice from shaking. There was only a slim chance Paul would believe him, and even if he did, this was shocking news.

"Do you remember when you met my Dad earlier this summer?" Percy began cautiously. Paul nodded slowly, unsure of where this was going.

"He introduced himself as Poseidon," Paul said. "He seemed a bit odd, no offence. Almost like he had seen all the ancient history he was talking about."

"I'm afraid he has seen ancient history happen. Like all of it." Percy said. "You know Greek mythology, right?" Paul nodded waiting for him to continue.

"What were the gods described as?" Percy asked.

"Immortal. Percy you don't mean that your father-"

"Yes. I do," Percy cut him off.

"But it would mean-" The poor man looked like a lost puppy.

"That I'm half god?" Percy offered.

He was trying desperately to piece together the puzzle that was Percy's life and his feelings about it.

There was his girlfriend Sally, who had a son. Paul wasn't a jerk. He was cool with that. This son had been expelled from eight schools and was considered to be a juvenile delinquent. That made him edgy, but he figured that Percy had the worst case of wrong-place-wrong-time imaginable. This presumed juvenile delinquent had gone missing for about two months after blowing up the band hall. That made him worried as he held Sally as she cried and told him not to call the police. This missing person had come back, unharmed around the time of his birthday, bringing his half-brother with him. That made Paul confused as he wondered where he had been for the past few months. This enigma then attracted an array of people (his father and another friend to be exact) who both had a thing for fire escapes and private conversations that fell silent everything he came into the room. They made Paul decide that something was definitely up.

That led up to today.

This secret keeper had ordered them out of the diner and run out onto the street clutching a pen. That made his head spin and he was definitely lost. This pen holder had then come home, half dead from blood loss, but he had eaten a brownie and poured some rubbing alcohol in his cuts and they were perfectly healed again. That had made him want to throw up and freak out and in general have a panic attack. This medical miracle had just told him that Percy's father was the god of the sea. And Paul didn't know what to feel.

On one hand he wanted to laugh it off, but there was too much evidence against that. All the strange things that had happened around the kid would be explained. On the other hand he wanted to ask a ton of questions, and interrogate the kid about this new concept, but that seemed rude.

"But you go to high school!" Paul exclaimed, and Percy did something he hadn't been doing very much of recently. He laughed.

"Well, as Annabeth would say, 'just because you're about to die is no excuse to be uneducated'" Percy said through fits of laughter.

"About to die?!" Paul exclaimed. His eyes were wide and scared. Percy looked embarrassed. He was used to throwing around the topic of death in camp where the demigods faced it every day, but in the mortal world, he forgot that not everybody was used to it.

"Yeah, umm it's no big deal Paul. Everyone at camp is trained to do this sort of thing. I mean, we're literally born to defend the world from monsters." Percy was blushing as Paul stared at him like he had grown an extra head.

"Percy you're fifteen, not fifty! You can't just go around claiming that death isn't a big deal!" Paul protested.

Percy seemed to age a little bit, worry lines forming between his eyebrows, the light in his eyes dimming. "I- I never really thought about it like that. I mean, everyone at camp- we're all demigods in training- we just kind of accept it. I mean, everyone has to die at some point right? It's scary, but I don't mind so much as long as it's for a good cause. Besides, if all the mythology is real, the monsters are real too. We have to dispel them every so often. Annabeth calls them archetypal forces. They can't be killed forever, so we always have an enemy. "

"A good cause," Paul whispered feeling like he was about to faint. Percy was handling everything matter-of-factly, which didn't help his nerves.

"Gods, I didn't mean to scare you!" Percy exclaimed at the look on the older man's face. "It really isn't that bad. It's almost fun sometimes. Like the time that I blew up the toilets and Clarisse got soaked." Percy grinned at the memory.

"Blew up the toilets?" Paul questioned. He was starting to feel like parrot, repeating phrases that Percy said, but he couldn't help it. He was shocked.

Percy ginned at him, looking proud of himself. "In all fairness, she was going to shove my head down them."

"How did you…" Paul trailed off. There was no way that anyone could set up explosives with their head halfway down a toilet.

"Oh, I control water. Son of Poseidon and all," he said this like he would say that they needed to get milk.

"Can I see?" Paul asked. The shock was beginning to wear off, only to be replaced by a burning curiosity.

"I… I guess so. I'm really sorry if you get soaked." Percy said. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment on the plumbing. He could feel the water going around the building, rushing and stopping when taps were turned on and off. Once again, he was one with the plumbing.

There was a familiar wrenching sensation on his gut as water from the kitchen sink rushed into the living room, flowing with the force of a river. Paul wound up drenched, but there was a neat dry circle around Percy.

"Percy! You'd better clean that up. " A very annoyed voice came from the kitchen.

"Sorry Mom!" He called back. He touched the carpet with his palm and everything was dry again. Paul's jaw was on his chest. There was cool. There was amazing. And then there was this.

"How old were you, when- when you started this half-blood business?" Paul asked.

Percy made a few executive decisions about a appropriately watered down story to tell Paul. "I was twelve," Percy said. That's when I met my first friend from camp who just so happened to be half-goat." Percy lanced into his watered down explanation, leaving out Kronos and Luke and almost all of the monsters he had fought. By the end of the story, Percy was jealous of this kid, who didn't have a prophecy of a war to worry about. Honestly, this kid had it good, with an occasional skirmish with a monster on simple adventures with his best friends.

Paul thought this kid was pretty brave though, the way his eyes had gotten wide, and his eyebrows inched up his face with every word.

"But you go to high school!" Paul said again. Was it really possible that there was a group of teenagers somewhere in the world that were protecting them where the "regular mortal" police could not? It was pretty wild.

Percy laughed again. "Yeah, so anyway, it's been nice talking to you and all. but I have to go make a couple of I'Ms to camp, so I've got to run, but my mom would probably explain more if you have questions, alright?"

Paul nodded numbly, his mind racing trying to process all this new information. His soon to be step son was half god. He was a good kid. He was responsible and mature no matter what all his teachers would say. He had a good heart. And for that, Paul knew that somehow it would be okay.

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