Paul Blofis called the class to attention by pulling out a large leather bound copy of the collected works of Shakespeare. The name of the author blazed gold against the red cover. He showed it to all of them, expected and received a series of groans from all but the meekest students in his class. The book was new this semester, a gift from his bride Sally during their first Christmas.

"So, here is a question for you to consider," Paul said while the class settled. "Why do English teachers require their students to read Shakespeare?"

"Torture," a kid in the back whispered just loud enough for the whole class to hear.

"No," Paul said with a wide smile, as the others began to chuckle. "If I wanted to torture you, I would have you writing essays on Russian super novels. But Shakespeare is different than Tolstoy. Why?"

The kids looked blank as he walked around to sit on his desk.

After a moment of silence, Paul asked, "Anyone? Any thoughts?"

A few kids shook their heads, but all eyes locked on him. Paul lived for these moments. It kept him coming in that door day after day, it kept him up at nights grading papers, it kept him locked in to teaching. Young minds, engaged in something other than technology.

"What language did Shakespeare speak?"

"English," the crowd whispered.

"What language do you speak?"

"English," they repeated more loudly.

"Did you know there are at least 200,000 words in the English language today? Shakespeare used only around 70,000 to write all of his collected works. I want you all to think about it. Shakespeare did all that he did using only a third of the words that you have at your fingertips. He rolled the language, tamed it, taught it, and managed to create something so new, so unique that we are still in awe hundreds of years later. As we go through his poetry, I want you to remember that. Open your textbook to page 287."

A soft knock at the door was followed by the body of a woman Paul knew by face, but not by name. She worked as a study hall monitor.

"Sorry to interrupt Mr. Blofis," she said quietly. "They need you up in the office."

Paul felt confused, he had never been called to the office in person before. "Why?"

"Something about your son," the teacher said with an apologetic smile.

Paul sighed, since he didn't have any children of his own, it could only mean one thing. Percy.

A couple of the kids in the class giggled. Percy had quite a reputation. After he had been in the middle of the explosion during freshman orientation, the rest of the kids had deemed him a troublemaker. Well, to be fair, it wasn't just the explosion. His rebellious looks coupled with his horrible grades sealed the impression. And owing to Paul's position as a teacher, even the upper classman knew who he was.

Not that Percy actually caused trouble. He had only visited the vice principal once and that was after Percy had a run in with a spoiled bully. The vice principal, Dr. Yates, had told Paul later that Percy had stood up against the bully and probably saved another student from getting hit. Dr. Yates was impressed by Percy courage. If the man only knew the half of it, Paul mused at the time.

Paul turned to the class, "Go ahead and read the poem on page 289. There are some questions on the following page. Answer them, and we'll discuss when I get back."

The other teacher made a small quiet noise.

"What?" Paul asked.

"I was sent for the rest of the day. I don't think you'll be coming back."

"Oh," Paul said feeling more anxious. "Okay, well, have the kids read the two poems on page 287 and 291 and answer the questions about them."

"Will do," she said with a smile. "Hope it's nothing serious."

So did Paul. He couldn't believe that Percy would have done anything so terrible that he would have been suspended. Granted, weird things happened around Percy. If a monster had attacked during school hours again, there might have been nothing that he could have done. The fire alarms hadn't gone off. That at least was a good sign.

He walked into the office and the secretary, Diana, gave him a commiserating smile.

"Sorry, Paul. I hated to pull you out of class, but there isn't much choice," she said. "I called your wife, but I couldn't get ahold of her. Poor thing, he's been throwing up for the last half an hour, he has a fever of 102. He needs to go home."

"Percy's sick?" Paul asked, stunned. To his knowledge, his stepson had never been sick, ever. Something about being a demigod prevented normal illness.

"Yeah, he's third one today," Diana said with a shake of her head. "The others had the same symptoms: headache, nausea, fever. We think they have influenza, I hope it's not that. We don't need any of that running through school."

"Where is he?"

"In the nurse's office. We closed the door and turned off the lights for him."

Paul nodded and walked through the office to the cluster of rooms in the back where the nurse kept house. She smiled grimly at Paul as he came back.

"He's in there," she said, indicating the closed door. "Poor kid, he's miserable. I'd give him some Tylenol, but I don't think he'd keep it down."

Paul nodded and slowly pushed the door open. The lights were off, but a bit of light shone from an emergency bulb near the floor. Percy knelt on the floor in the doorway to a small bathroom at the end of the room. He turned and looked at Paul as he walked in. Even in the dim light, Paul could tell that Percy felt awful.

"Hey, Percy," Paul said, walking over to him and squatting down. "Are you okay?"

He put a comforting hand on Percy's neck. The kid definitely had a fever and instead of answering his question, Percy turned back to the toilet and threw up again. After he was done Percy's head sagged into his chest. Paul rubbed his shoulder.

Percy looked up at him mournfully, "Did they get ahold of mom?"

"No, they couldn't reach her. She's at that writer's conference today. Remember? She probably turned her phone off."

Percy seemed to sink lower into the floor.

"Hey, it's okay, kiddo," Paul said. "I'll take you home. Your mom should be home by 6 or so."

"But you have to teach," Percy protested, his eyes closed, his head still bent.

"They called in a sub for me. I'm going to take you home. Do you need anything out of your locker? I'll grab it when I get my coat."

Percy gave it some thought, but before he answered, he was sick again.

"Forget it. I'll get your jacket. Do you have riptide?"

Percy didn't answer, but he just showed Paul the pen.

"I'll be back in a minute," Paul said, squeezing Percy's shoulder.

Paul walked back to the secretary's desk. Diana looked up at him with a concerned look.

"How is he?"

"He's pretty sick," Paul admitted. "I'm surprised. Sally told me that he almost never gets sick." By almost never, Paul meant definitely never.

"Everyone gets their turn eventually," Diana said with a sigh. "The ones who get sick less often, usually get the sickest. I suppose you need Percy's locker combination."

Paul smiled, "Yes, I do."

While she stared at the computer, she asked, "When do we get to meet Mrs. Paul Blofis?"

"You want to meet my wife?" Paul asked, a bit shocked.

"Absolutely. We office ladies never thought you'd ever get married. Then within 6 months, you're married with a teenage stepson who you fought to get into school here. She has to be something special."

A smile from deep inside planted itself on Paul's face. How he loved that woman. She made him complete, whole. He couldn't have asked for anything more in his life.

She continued, "And if she looks anything like Percy…"

Paul laughed, "No my wife is not a Greek goddess. Percy is a spitting image of his father. Sally is beautiful though, in a girl next door kind of way. I'll ask her to stop by sometime. She'd love to meet you."

Diana chuckled herself. "Here's the locker combo," she said, handing him a sticky note with the three numbers on it. "Oh and Paul," she said as Paul turned to leave.

"Hmm?" Paul asked.

"Did you know that your wife list you as Percy's father, not his stepfather?" Diana said.

"Really," Paul asked confused. "I didn't realize that Sally had put that on there. I'm obviously not his real father."

"We know that, but as far as the records are concerned, he is your son."

"Hmm," Paul said again, tucking that bit of information into his brain. "I'll have to ask Sally about that tonight. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Paul left the office and went back to his classroom, in time for the bell to ring. The kids flooded into the hallways. Paul wound his way through them, stopping off at Percy's locker. He quickly flipped the combination and pulled out Percy's faded coat. A girl that Paul recognized as Rachel Dare, one of Percy's close friends, stopped him after he had shut Percy's locker.

"I heard Percy got sick in gym class. Is that true?" Rachel asked, each word faster than the one before.

Paul nodded, "He's feeling pretty awful. I'm going to take him home."

"It isn't anything…. Weird… is it?" Rachel asked, looking up and down the corridors as if she were expecting to be attacked any second.

"Doesn't appear to be," Paul said.

"Oh," Rachel said, exhaling as her shoulders dropped. "Anytime something goes wrong in Percy's life, my life gets interesting."

Paul gave her a knowing smile. "If it's anything weird, I'll let you know."

"Thanks," Rachel said. "Tell him, I hope he feels better soon."

"I will," Paul said, with a smile.

By the time Paul got back to the office, with two coats and his backpack, Percy was sound asleep on the cot. Paul hated to wake him, but he'd be more comfortable at home. Paul flipped on the lights and then shook his shoulder.

"Percy? Come on, kiddo, wake up. Let's go home."

Percy's eyes eventually came open. He flinched against the bright lights, but he pulled himself into a sitting position. Paul extended a hand to help him up and Percy took it. Paul pulled Percy to his feet. Paul handed Percy his coat and Percy pulled it on, and then pulled his hooded sweatshirt up over his head. Something about the look reminded Paul of a boxer after the end of a particularly bad fight.

They walked out in the main office together. Diana handed Paul the sign out sheet.

"I already filled it out, but I need you to sign it," she said. Then to Percy she said, "I hope you feel better soon Percy."

As Paul signed the sheet, Percy answered quietly, "Thanks."

"Poor thing," the secretary crooned. "You'll let us know if it's the flu."

"I will," Paul said.

With one last smile, Paul and Percy walked out of the office and to the front door. Paul offered to pull the Prius up for him, but Percy gave him a wan smile and said he could make it as far as the staff parking lot. They trudged through the winter morning to the car. Paul unlocked it, and they got in. Before Paul had even gotten the car started, Percy had put his head against the side window.

"Do you want me to head to the docks?" Paul asked.

"Huh?" Percy asked. "Why?"

"I thought maybe if you jumped in the ocean, you'd feel better? Doesn't water usually heal you?"

"I already tried that," Percy said with a sigh. "Coach Haufferman was the one who sent me to the nurse. He said couldn't sit in the shower the rest of the day, especially with my clothes on."

"Did it help?" Paul asked with a smile.

"I felt a lot worse when I got out," Percy admitted. "But no ocean, I just want to go home."

Paul nodded, "Fair enough. "

They drove in silence for several blocks and then Paul decided to ask, "Have you ever been sick before? I thought your father's power protected you from this kind of thing?"

Percy said, with his eyes closed, "I'm half human. I've been sick before. Just not for a long time."

"I thought your mom told me that you had only been to a doctor a few times."

"That was because Gabe wouldn't let her take me, not because I wasn't sick."

"He seriously wouldn't let your mom take you to the doctor?" Paul asked, feeling slightly sick himself all of sudden.

"Yeah," Percy said quietly. "Gabe… he made Homer Simpson look like a role model as a husband."

"Did he hit you? Like he hit Sally?" Paul asked giving Percy a sidelong look at the stoplight.

"No," Percy said flatly. "I didn't know that he had been hurting my mom until after I left for Camp Half Blood."

"That's good. I'm glad he didn't hurt you too. Sally was sure he hadn't. But I wondered. Things could have happened when she wasn't around."

"She didn't leave me alone with him very often," Percy said with sigh. "She was trying to protect me. That's why she married him in the first place, to protect me. I heard you talking to the secretary."

There was something accusing in the tone of Percy's last sentence, but Paul thought back through the conversation and couldn't think of anything he said that would have made Percy upset.

"Yeah," Paul said, as neutrally as possible.

"You really love my mother, don't you."

It wasn't a question, so Paul simply agreed, "More every day."

"I'm glad she has you," Percy said, quietly. "Gabe was awful to her. I've been awful to her."

"She loves you dearly, Percy. She's proud of you."

"But still," Percy said sighing. "I disappeared for two weeks this summer. She must have been out of her mind with worry."

Sally had been out of her mind with worry. Paul remembered the anxious look that haunted her. Paul had wanted nothing more than to ease her pain. He couldn't. No one could.

She told him at the time that Percy had gone missing. She had made it sound like Percy had gotten lost on a field trip, a wilderness expedition gone wrong. Then after they explained who Percy was and who his father really was, Percy had explained what happened, how much of a close call it had been.

For a while afterwards, Paul had been nervous around him and nervous about his relationship with Sally. He wanted to marry her. He loved her from the first, and he couldn't image a future without her. But her son made Mount St. Helen's erupt. What would he do if Paul asked him to clean up his room and he didn't want too? Would the whole building go up in smoke? Would he flood the apartment? Sally assured him that Percy wouldn't do any of that.

To Paul's relief, Sally had been right. Percy never used any of his godly powers in his normal day to day life. In fact, the only time Paul had seen Percy use his father's power was when Percy had explained who his father was, at the beach in Montauk. Percy made the ocean rise at his command, held it back, and sprayed Paul and Sally. For his piece de resistance he whistled loudly and a flying horse showed up. Percy talked to it, climbed on his back, flew hundreds of feet in the air and then he jumped off. Even Sally screamed at that stunt. Percy arrived back at the beach a few minutes later, perfectly dry. The horse landed next to him and nuzzled him. Sally ordered him to never do that again. Percy just smiled.

Since the wedding, things between them had gone pretty well, in Paul's opinion anyways. Percy seemed older than his fifteen years. He had never been disrespectful to either him or Sally. He did his homework, mostly. He did what they asked him too and didn't have an attitude. Not that he was perfect, Percy was moody and spent a lot of time in his room. But it had gone about as well as Paul could have hoped for.

When Paul didn't answer, Percy went on, "I know why she did it."

"Why she did what?" Paul asked.

"Why she listed you as my father on my school records, instead of as my stepfather," Percy said, closing his eyes again.
"Why?"

"Half a hope, half a wish," Percy said. "She's hoping that you'll care for me, like a father. She always hoped Gabe would, it never worked, but she never stopping hoping for it. The other part of her wishes that you were my father. That I was a normal kid, and we could be a normal family."

"I don't think that second part is true. She loves you and is proud of who you are."

"It is true," Percy said, quietly. "There are days that I wish it was true."

That made Paul's eyebrow shoot up.

Percy went on, "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for everything my father has given me. But heroes don't live long. I'll be lucky if I make it past my sixteenth birthday. I've seen him exactly three times in my whole life. If the Olympian council decides that I should die, he couldn't stop them, even if he wanted too. I know he cares, some days, I wish I could just be a normal kid."

Percy sounded so miserable that Paul's heart went out to him.

"Well," Paul said, "If I were in your place; I probably would feel the same. For what it's worth, I do care for you, very much. I love your mother dearly. I don't know anything about being a father, so I probably won't be of much use to you in that way, but if you need me, I'm here."

Paul pulled in his Prius to the parking spot right in front of the building. He finished parking in time to see a true smile grace Percy's pale face.

"Thanks, Paul."

Paul returned the smile. "Anytime. Shall we head in?"

"The window is cold. Feels nice on my head," Percy admitted.

"I'll get you an ice pack and some Tylenol, or some of that god food that you eat."

Percy just shrugged. Paul got out of the car and Percy followed slowly. Paul waited for him at the door's entrance and the doorman held it open. Percy shuffled through, slowly. The doorman gave Paul a raised eyebrow look and Paul mouthed "he's sick." The doorman gave him a look of sympathy and nodded.

They reached the apartment, Paul unlocked the door, Percy walked in, and dropped unceremoniously on the couch. Paul shut and locked the door behind him.

"Percy," Paul said, walking over, "You'd be more comfortable in your bed."

"Yeah," Percy agreed. His eyes were closed, his face planted in a pillow. Within seconds, his breathing evened out and his face softened. Now, Percy looked younger than his fifteen years. He looked like a kid, which, Paul reasoned, he was.

Paul shook his head at his stepson. He pulled off Percy's shoes and then grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and draped it over him.

Percy woke up on the couch, disoriented, feeling thirsty and achy. What time was it anyways? Percy looked over the clock by the television, almost two thirty. He'd slept since they had gotten home around ten. Gods, he did feel awful.

He pulled himself to his feet and trudged into the kitchen. Paul sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by receipts of all kinds, a checkbook, and his laptop. He looked up when Percy walked in.

"Hey," Paul said. "How are you feeling?"

Percy grunted.

"That good huh?" Paul replied. "Are you hungry?"

"No," Percy said, the very thought making his stomach bubble.

"Do you think you could drink something? It would be horribly ironic if the son of Poseidon died of dehydration. "

Percy smiled, "That would be bad."

"While you were asleep, I ran down to the corner market."

Paul rose and walked to the refrigerator. He grabbed something inside. He turned back to Percy and handed him a bottle of blue Gatorade.

Percy felt a smile cross his face. Blue Gatorade. He could almost feel his mother standing in the room next to him.

"And then," Paul picked up a can on the counter. "Chicken rice soup. My mom always made it for me when I was sick. She said it would help. I don't know if it did, but I figured it couldn't hurt. It's not really food, so maybe it won't make you sick."

Percy shuffled over to the chair across from Paul had been sitting and sat down in it. He opened his blue Gatorade. "I guess it can't hurt."

"Glad you agree."

"What was she like?" Percy asked, putting his lips on the Gatorade bottle and taking the tiniest of sips out of the cold bottle.

"My mom?" Paul asked.

"Yeah," Percy asked.

He didn't know where the question sprang from, but all of a sudden he wanted to know more about Paul, other than the bare basement facts his mother had given him. Percy knew that Paul was an only child and that his parents had both died years ago. In other words, his mother meant that Paul, like them, had no family either.

Paul seemed to consider the question. His eyes glazed over a bit and he mechanically opened the can of soup and dumped the contents into a saucepan. He put the pan on the stove and turned it on. Then turning back to Percy he said,

"She was sweet, like your mom. She had a hard life. She worked very hard to support us. My dad… he drank too much and one day he just never came home. She worked two jobs, took care of me, and took care of her mom."

Percy felt his insides wrench a little, and not from sickness. "When did she die?"

"Years ago, when I was in college. Cancer. She didn't realize until it had spread through her whole body. She had been taking care of me and grandma for so long, she forgot to take care of herself. She went fast."

Paul sounded more than sad. His voice held guilt, Percy could relate. Zoe, Bianca, their deaths weighed on him, even though he knew in his head that he couldn't have stopped either of them from happening.

"I'm sorry," Percy said, his words feeling as hollow and empty as his stomach.

"Yeah, me too," Paul said, turning back and stirring the soup.

"Did you ever find out what happened to your dad?"

"After my mom died, I did look for him. He had died years ago, not long after he left. I found out from his sister that he had been in some intense battles in the Vietnam War. He never recovered from it. "

"That sucks," Percy commented, sipping another drink of the Gatorade.

"Well, I can't say I felt very bad for him. Had he not run out on my mom, I might have felt a little worse."

"Yeah, " Percy said, "I can relate… only my dad never was there to begin with, regretted that I was born, and only claimed me when he needed me to stop a war with his brother."

"You're making my own father sound like a saint." Paul said.

Percy didn't answer. His stomach cramped hard again. His head began to thud, with pain every heartbeat. He rubbed his head with the back of his hand and squeezed his eyes shut. He slumped backward in his chair, letting his head rest on the wooden top. When Percy looked up, Paul had set two things on the table in front of him, a baggie of Ambrosia and a bottle of Advil.

"Personally," Paul said, "I'd go for the Advil. But seeing as your father is a god and all, the little squares might be better. I wish they had webmd for demigods. Can you mix god food with pain relievers? "

Despite his headache, despite the stomach ache, Percy managed to crack a smile.

"Not even a laugh," Paul commented. "I must be losing my touch. Or you're feeling really awful."

Percy stared at the god food and the blue Gatorade. He knew he should eat something, but even the ambrosia looked disgusting. The thought of food made his stomach roll. Suddenly, the cramping turned his stomach over, and Percy raced to the sink. He was sick again and again and again.

Finally, his head throbbing horribly, Percy found it too hard to stand. He sank to the floor of the kitchen. He knelt on the floor, his head sinking into his chest. His head pounded in tune to his ringing ears. He couldn't remember a time when he had felt this awful. He felt a cool hand on his forehead.

The hand retreated and Percy heard Paul muttering under his breath.

Part of Percy, the part that fought the Titan Atlas, thought he should get up off the floor. He held up the sky, he made Mount Saint Helen's erupt, he should be strong. One little illness shouldn't knock him down.

The other part of Percy, the part that had always half hoped Gabe would care, the part that loved his mom's hugs, the part that admired his stepfather's kindness and compassion, wanted to cry out in misery.

He felt Paul's arms around his shoulders. Paul helped him stand and directed him back to the kitchen chair. Percy put his arms on the table and let his head sink into them. Paul put his hand back on Percy's forehead.

Paul murmured, "Percy, kiddo, let's take your temperature."

Percy took the thermometer without opening his eyes and stuck it under his tongue. It beeped a few seconds later. Paul took it from his mouth.

"What's the damage?" Percy asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

"103.5" Paul said, his voice hushed, "that is not good, at all. If you were a regular kid, I would take you to the doctor. What do you think? Should I take you? Do demigods go to regular doctors?"

"I guess," Percy said. "I think Annabeth has been to a doctor."

"What do you want to do?"

"Go back to sleep," Percy admitted. He could have slept right there on the table.

"Let's put you back to bed then," Paul said. "I'll call your mom again, see what I should do."

Percy felt Paul's arm around him. Paul helped him back to his feet and steered him back to his bedroom. Percy lay down and Paul pulled blankets over him. Then a few seconds later, Paul handed Percy a canteen. Nectar of the Gods.

"Just a couple of sips, kiddo," Paul encouraged. "It should help."

Percy took a few small sips. The taste of chocolate chip cookies was somehow soothing to his sore throat, which he hadn't realized was sore until it was gone. It made his chest looser, though he hadn't noticed it was tight until it was gone. The soothing taste and coolness washed Percy away, he fell back to sleep.

Poseidon paced the Hall of the gods. He rounded on the pair that entered the room. Neither was his favorite Olympian, but he needed them.

"Apollo," Poseidon addressed, anger lacing his voice, "What exactly is wrong with my son, Percy?"

Apollo looked surprised, "Nothing that I know of my Lord Uncle."

"Then why are his mortal parents in fear for his health. His stepfather has been praying to me almost constantly for the last hour."

"It is news to me, uncle. Give me a moment."

Apollo shimmered and vanished.

Poseidon turned to face the other Olympian in the room, the beautiful Aphrodite. "It is apparent that you have done as I requested for Sally Jackson. "

Aphrodite smiled and nodded to him, "She is a worthy mortal. She has raised your son well."

"Perhaps you did your duty too well with respect to Sally Jackson?"

Aphrodite gave him a coy smile. "A worthy mortal deserves another worthy mortal. Your son deserves the love of a human father. You, yourself said as much."

Poseidon turned a paced again, he needed to return to the battle in sea. This was a small matter, inconsequential in comparison to the fight at hand. But gods, he felt angry.

"Perhaps my Lord, you are not as detached as you think?" Aphrodite said to his back.

Poseidon turned and scowled at her.

"I will leave you, to your jealously," Aphrodite said with a glamorous smile. She shimmered away.

Poseidon returned to his pacing. His gut told him to return to the battle, that something major had happened since he had been standing here. But he waited, and waited…

Apollo shimmered back into existence.

"And?" Poseidon prompted.

"Your son has influenza, uncle."

"Is it serious?" Poseidon asked.

"Not in his case. He is very sick with a high fever. And he will be for several days. But he will recover."

"How did he get it? I thought our children were immune to this kind of thing."

"Our power protects them, yes. But, your power and by extension, his power, has been greatly taxed in the war with the titans. He is half human, and he picked it up at school, in a thoroughly human fashion. Had you been at full strength, he probably won't have fallen ill. But…"

Poseidon could feel it in his himself, the drain of his power, even as they spoke the battle intensified.

"He will survive this?"

"Yes, his human father gave him some nectar of the gods. That alone will sustain him. He will live to fight another day."

Poseidon's heart lifted. "Thank you, Apollo."

Apollo nodded and then his eyes gleamed bright yellow. "The Lord of the Sea, worries about his young son. Apollo helps him."

Poseidon stifled a groan and then returned to the sea, to the battle. Percy would survive. He could concentrate.

"Your son has influenza, Mr. Blofis," the doctor said. "His fever is very high and he's going to be miserable for a week, maybe even two weeks, but he should come out of it just fine. His lungs are clear and so long as he can keep hydrated, there isn't much we can do, but wait it out. I'll give him some anti-viral medication and anti-nausea medication. Give him Advil every six hours to keep him comfortable and if the fever spikes before his next dose, you can give him Tylenol. He need rest, liquids, more rest, and more rest."

Paul looked over to Percy, who was crashed out on the cot in the office.

The doctor gave him a warm smile, "You still look nervous. He'll be fine. He's a strong kid. This flu isn't as virulent as others have been in years past. Miserable, yes. Fatal, no."

"I've never had to do this before. I just married his mom over Christmas."

The doctor stuck out his hand and gave him a huge toothy smile, "Congratulations."

Paul returned the shake with a smile, "Thanks."

"You're doing fine," the doctor reassured him. "You were right to bring him in when you did. When fevers get close to 104, like his was, they need to be seen." The doctor handed him two prescriptions. "Get those filled for him, take him home, put him to bed, and let him sleep for the next week. If the fever gets higher, or if he starts to wheeze when he breathes, bring him back."

"I understand," Paul said. "Thanks."

Paul walked over and shook Percy's arm. "Percy, come on. Let's go home."

Percy forced himself to a sitting position. "Yeah."

"Feel better soon, Percy," the doctor said, "Don't give your step dad here too hard of a time."

Percy managed a smile for the doctor, "Who me? I would never give Paul a bad time."

The doctor smiled back, "Sure, you wouldn't."

After the doctor left the room Percy added, to Paul in an undertone, "He has no idea. You've done more for me today than either Gabe or my real dad ever did. "

"Well, in all fairness, your real father is constrained by ancient laws and things just didn't work out well for Gabe, did they?"

"True," Percy said, falling in step next to him.

"We'll get these filled and head home. Your mom should be there soon."

When Sally arrived home that night, she found an empty apartment. Paul's laptop was on the kitchen table, a half empty bottle of blue Gatorade sat on the counter, and a pot of soup sat forgotten on the stove. Either Paul, or Percy, or maybe both had been there. Blue Gatorade? Sally couldn't remember when anyone in their little family had ever drunk blue Gatorade.

She found a note from Paul on the refrigerator.

Sally,

Percy got sick at school today. He's running a fever of 103. I didn't know what to do, or what to give him, and I couldn't get a hold of you. So, I decided to take him to the pediatric clinic over on 154th street. That's where the other teachers take their kids. His appointment is at 4:30. Call me when you get this.

Love,

Paul.

Heart in her throat, Sally ran back to the door where she had hung up her purse. She took out her cell phone and realized that it was off. She had turned it off by request of the first speaker at the conference today. She flipped it on and chewed on her lip as it lit up into life. After a minute, the phone popped up, 7 missed calls. The first 3 were from the school. The next 4 were from Paul.

"Oh, no," Sally said, trying not to panic. Nothing had ever been normal for Percy. She quickly dialed in Paul's number and before it had even rung once, the door unlocked. Sally opened the door, in time to see Paul take his phone out of his coat pocket. Percy stood next to him.

"Hey mom," Percy said.

Her son looked miserable. He was pale, there were dark shadows under his eyes, and he moved like an old man through the door of the apartment.

Sally caught him in a hug. "Are you okay?" Then looking at Paul, she said "I just got your messages. What's wrong? What did the doctor say?"

"Percy has influenza," Paul said. "It's going around school. The doctor said he needs lots of rest, but he'll be just fine in a week or two." He handed Sally the bag from the drug store. "I picked up his prescriptions and some extra Tylenol and Advil."

Sally found herself staring not at her ailing son, but her husband. No one had ever helped Percy before. Her heart surged and she pulled Paul inside the hug she shared with Percy.

"I love you," she said to Paul with tears in her eyes. "Thank you."

"I love you too," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Let's get our boy to bed huh?"

"Yes, please," Percy said detaching himself from them. "You two are going to make me sick."

"You already are sick," Paul said with the smile.

"More sick," Percy said, with a smile back. He retreated down the out of the living room and to his bedroom. Sally heard the door open and close.

Sally smiled at his retreating back and then shut the front door. She got up on her tiptoes and kissed her husband on the lips.

"That's probably the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for him, or for me," Sally said, still tearful.

"You really haven't met many nice people have you," Paul commented, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

"I was waiting for you," she said and buried herself in his arms.

"And me for you," he said. "We should get Percy his medicine before he falls asleep again."

"Yes, we should," she said and she slipped his hand into his as they walked into the kitchen.

Apollo found Aphrodite sitting on a park bench outside of Macy's. A blue silk shawl covered her head and her chocolate leather coat fell over her short black boots. Her legs were crossed and she studied the crowd with calm attention.

"He's not going to forgive you," Apollo said, taking the seat next to her.

"He will eventually," she said. "Maybe not this century, but he'll remember that I did exactly what he asked me to do."

"You know better than to give a god exactly what he wants," Apollo said.

"Of course I do," she said with a smile. "That's why love is so painful and delicious. Sally Jackson is a worthy mortal, her soul fires the goodness inside her son, Percy. Poseidon fell hard for her and he wants her to be happy. If the prophesy is true, and the world doesn't end, Sally will lose her son, the only person she had loved until now. She needs love to see her though."

"I didn't know you had a heart," Apollo admitted.

"I'm the love goddess, I know something of compassion. Will Percy really be okay?"

"Yeah. I don't envy him. He's feeling awful right now. But he won't even remember this in a month or two. It will be a blip on his map."

"But Sally will always remember what Paul did, won't she."

Apollo looked at her, his eyes burning more yellow behind his glasses. "You sly little devil. You did this didn't you? I wondered, even in Poseidon's weakened state, his power should have been plenty to keep his one mortal child well."

She didn't answer. She vanished leaving behind the blue scarf, which fluttered to ground. Apollo stepped over it, grinning to himself, and faded into the crowd.

"And he's back," the secretary said smiling as the Percy and his family walked through the office door a week later.

"Just for a half day," Paul said. "He's still pretty tired."

"I'll be back to pick him up at noon," Sally said.

"If you need to come back to the nurse before then Percy, just let your teacher know. They know you were sick."

"Thanks," Percy said, with a smile to all of them, he left the office.

"So you must be Sally," the secretary said, standing up and extending a hand. "It's great to finally meet you. I'm Diana. Us office girls were hoping to meet you, the woman who finally caught our Mr. Blofis."

"Thanks," Sally said, blushing.

"He's a very nice young man," Diana commented.

"Paul?" Sally asked, confused.

"No, Percy," she said. "He's always very polite. You raised him yourself?"

"I did," Sally said and then with an adoring look at Paul she added, "But not anymore."

From the office fish tank, Poseidon watched through the eyes of the clownfish that swam in erratic circles. He felt the anger build, recede, build again, until it was replaced by a guilty sadness. Sally hadn't needed him to fix her problems. He had needed their son to fix his problems. He had power second only to his brother Zeus and yet he was as powerless as the clownfish that swam in this tank. As he released the fish and headed back to the ocean, he knew the worst was yet to come.

an: The worst being the fight with Kronos in the end of the next book. Thanks for reading!