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Being a stepdad is hard. Being just “mom’s boyfriend” is even harder. Being the grown-up and holding your temper in the face of teen attitude and rage? A Sisyphean struggle, for sure.
–
Things had been tense for a while. Percy left at odd hours, came home dirty and bruised up, and Paul was worried he was starting to get into some bad things. Drugs, gangs, crime, Paul wasn’t sure which, but Percy was definitely showing the same signs as the “troubled youth” at the old Title I school he used to teach at. Paul liked Percy, but fourteen, nearing fifteen, was a hard time for anyone. Some days Percy was happy to see Paul with Sally and other days Percy was downright stormy towards him. Teenagers and mood swings were an occupational hazard in his line of work, but something about Percy felt different. Dangerous. Like the teen was waiting for something, and if Paul made one wrong move he’d happily toss him out on his ass, literally.
Ridiculous, Paul assured himself. Percy was a nice young man, if not a little lost, it seemed. He just needed a little bit of guidance. A male role model. Someone to look up to. Someone to–
Paul jerked back to reality at the sound of the apartment door slamming shut, accompanied by a very teenager-y annoyed sigh. Paul glanced at his watch and furrowed a brow. Midnight.
“A bit late for a walk, don’t you think Percy?” Paul prodded, the lightest touch of a scold. He watched as Percy slumped against the front door and just stared at him, annoyed and exhausted. His hands and face were filthy, scrapes and cuts littering his knuckles and arms. One deeper cut curved along his cheek, just under his eye. The teen stared up through his disheveled hair, sea-green eyes catching the entry light and almost glowing in the dark.
The silence hung heavy between them. Paul tried not to be unnerved by his girlfriend’s son and his near-glowing demon eyes. The kid seemed to just radiate danger like he was staring through Paul as if he was nothing but an insignificant bug. Before Paul could squash that thought, Percy spoke, voice deep and raspy like he’d been yelling for hours.
“Where’s mom?” he croaked, still just staring through Paul.
Paul narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, annoyance twinging on the edges of his mind. He breathed once before answering, “She’s working late tonight, is there–”
“Then why are you here?” Percy cut him off.
Hmm. The annoyance was more than twinging now. Paul waited for two breaths before answering, “She asked that I hold down the fort, so to speak. Make sure you got home alright.” Percy’s eyes softened and Paul felt his own shoulders relax. He cleared his throat and spoke warmly, “There’s a plate for you in the fridge. You should wash up, eat, and get to bed, kid. You look exhausted. Sally will be home in about an hour. I’ll be here,” Paul gestured to the sofa in the living room, “if you need something.”
Percy pulled himself away from the door and nodded softly. “Okay. Thanks, Paul,” the teen said, bee-lining for the kitchen.
Paul swallowed down all of the questions and accusations and replied, “You’re very welcome. Good night, Percy.”
Percy mumbled something friendly back, head buried in the fridge. Paul stared after him for a moment before going back to his book on the couch. It wasn’t his place, but he should definitely bring it up with Sally.
—
Things followed that same tense pattern for a while. Paul spent more and more time in the Jackson household. He had a drawer in Sally’s room and a toothbrush in the bathroom. He stayed late when Sally asked him to, made dinner, and kept an eye on Percy when she asked. He stayed up way too late waiting for her son to come home whenever he felt like it, always tired and dirty and hurt for some reason. He tried to bring it up with Sally, but she just brushed him off saying Percy was just at that age, a restless spirit like his father. He insisted that Sally , I think this is serious but she just bit her lip and furrowed her brow in that way she always does when they talk about Percy, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t.
Or wouldn’t , Paul thought darkly on the bad days. Secrets weren’t his favorite; if Shakespeare taught him anything it was that secrets always blew up in everyone’s faces.
Paul sighed heavily and knuckled his brow, trying to squeeze the headache away. He had about 30 more essays to grade tonight. The clock taunted him with 11:56 pm as weariness pulled at his eyelids and anxiety buzzed under his skin because he didn’t know where Percy was . Why Sally didn’t just buy the kid a damn cell phone was lost to him.
“Ugh!” Paul exclaimed in disgust, throwing down his green grading pen. He buried his face in his hands and tried to scrub the thoughts away. He didn’t mean that; he was just tired and stressed. He knew money was tight for the Jacksons, Sally’s small artistic fortune being funneled towards her schooling. She was an amazing mother, especially to a kid like Percy.
And what kind of kid is he? A punk? A thug? Some nasty part of his brain snipped. Paul shook his head to try and dispel the thoughts. Percy was a good kid, a kind kid. He was just misunderstood, maybe a little lost, Paul was sure of it.
Speak of the devil, Paul thought as someone fumbled with the locks. Paul rose to his feet and crossed his arms. The door creaked open and Percy slunk through. He froze when he realized Paul was standing there waiting for him. The teen threw a suspicious glare towards Paul through his dark bangs. A bruise darkened his cheek that Paul just couldn’t ignore.
“Percy, do you know what time it is? Where on earth have you been? ” Paul started, anxiety making his voice pitch higher.
“It’s literally none of your business where I’ve been,” Percy bit back. Paul’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. Percy has never spoken to him like this before.
“Excuse me?” Paul replied, voice a warning. He felt his jaw clench as the stress bore down on his shoulders.
Percy scoffed and ignored the warning. “You heard me. I said it is none of your business. You’re not my dad, Paul.”
Paul inhaled sharply, that one striking him right in the heart. Paul’s eyebrow twitched in agitation. “Right,” he bit. The words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them, “I’m just the one staying up until God knows when to make sure you make it home safe. Silly me, how dare I care.”
Percy scoffed in disgust and rolled his eyes in the way only teenagers seemed to, the perfect combination of Whatever and Fuck you . Paul felt his shoulders tense and he hid his fisted hands in the cardigan pockets. He said flatly, “There’s leftovers in the fridge, have a good night Percy. I’ll be out here if you need me.”
“Whatever,” Percy grumbled, brushing past Paul. Paul rolled his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose.
You’re the grown-up, you’re the grown-up, you’re the grown-up Paul repeated. He repeated the mantra as Percy fumbled his way through the kitchen, prepared his leftovers, and slammed the door to his bedroom shut. Paul buried his face in his hands once more and tried to scrub the stress away. He sank back down onto the couch where his student’s essays awaited grading.
Fuck , being the grown-up sucks sometimes , Paul thought, glancing at Percy’s bedroom door once before returning to his grading.
–
Not every night was like that. Percy’s 15th birthday came and went, Paul met the man Percy called father, and suddenly a lot made sense. The demigod joke was a little weird, but meeting Percy’s birth father filled in a lot of blanks. The wild, unhinged dangerousness that surrounded Percy seemed to emit from the disheveled man. Paul wasn’t sure how involved this… Posiedon guy was in raising Percy, but obviously nature dominated nurture in this case.
Ever since the party, Percy would come home late and tell Paul the most ridiculous stories.
1 am with a 10-inch gash in his arm was a harpy. Midnight, tender ribs, and many bruises were a gang of cyclopes. 3 am and the smell of burned hair was an automaton fire-breathing robot boar thing .
At first, Paul took it in stride, responding with his own sarcastic battles of Shakespearean ghosts or Hemmingway’s prose. Sometimes Percy would sit with him, nursing his injuries, while Paul regaled him with stories of his college theater sword-fighting days. On other days, Percy was stormy and moody and silent, pushing past Paul with an eye-roll or something muttered under his breath. Paul faced those days with deep breaths, counting to three, and dragging up his teacher de-escalation training from the dusty parts of his memory. Paul was a grown adult. He handled sassy, sometimes downright aggressive, teens all day. But for some reason, coming from Percy, his girlfriend’s child, it felt different. It felt more personal. Like every transgression was a direct Fuck you to Paul’s very existence, like how dare he exist in Percy’s house?
Or maybe Paul was just projecting his insecurities onto an actual child.
Or maybe all these late nights were getting to him and he needed to go the fuck to sleep.
—
Paul and Percy fell into a pattern regarding the late nights. Paul still stayed up waiting for him, only now he didn’t just have a drawer and toothbrush in the house, Paul lived here. He was a solid part of Percy and Sally’s life now. So the nights Percy came home late, Paul fretted, made sure he was fed, and sent him off to bed. Sometimes Percy would sit and stay with Paul, happily chattering about school, the swim team, or Annabeth. Other times he slunk through the door in the dark, steely silent, and only gave one-word answers. Sometimes during the day Percy gushed and laughed and talked with Paul and sometimes he watched him with very careful eyes, shoulders tense like he was waiting for something.
For what, Paul didn’t know.
As a teacher, Paul didn’t have the authority or ability to diagnose students. But one did learn to detect certain patterns, and all of Percy’s patterns screamed not good . He only hoped Sally wouldn’t brush him off again.
—
“I’m serious, Sally, I think something is very wrong,” Paul stressed, pacing in front of his girlfriend. She sat on the couch watching him, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, college notes spread out on the coffee table, and dark circles under her eyes. The term was coming to an end and Sally had been
more stressed
busier than usual.
Sally kept her voice low, aware that Percy was just in his room. “Paul, I’m sure Percy is fine. He’s just… restless, like his father. You could say he’s trying to find himself, his purpose.” Her eyes softened as pain entered her eyes. “Plus, he’s had a hard year.”
“Exactly,” Paul declared. “I’m worried that all the stress and emotional hardships are pushing him to find outlets elsewhere. It’s almost once a week Sally, he comes home way past curfew, all banged up and hurt. I’m worried , honey. Kids like Percy–”
“And what exactly does that mean? ‘Kids like Percy’, Paul?” Sally sniped, voice clipped.
Shit , Paul hesitated. He weighed the pros and cons before doubling down. “Good kids, Sally, but kids that get lost along the way. That fall into bad crowds or drugs or gangs and Percy is showing a lot of the signs.”
“You think my son is a drug-addicted gangbanger?” Sally’s rising voice made it very clear that he better not be thinking that.
“I don’t know Sally, but the late nights, the bruises, the fighting, and the mood swings certainly have me suspicious,” Paul quipped, sarcasm coiling around his words.
Sally scoffed, offended. “Paul, trust me, I know my son and he isn’t gangbanging or doing drugs or whatever it is you think he’s doing. He’s a good kid , Paul.”
“Sally, you cannot sit here and tell me this is normal!” Paul snapped, voice desperate.
“Hey!” Paul jumped, startled. “You will not talk to her like that,” Percy demanded, materializing out of nowhere. He stood on the edge of the living room, arms crossed and eyes dark.
Sally rose to her feet and kept her voice soft, “It’s fine, Percy. Paul and I were just… talking.”
Paul let out a bitter laugh because talking? Yeah, he was talking but Sally made it clear she would not be listening. Pery’s eyes narrowed into a sharp glare at the sound.
At fifteen, Percy was tall and thin and gangly awkwardness most of the time. But right now, eyes steeled and knees bent like he was ready to fight, Percy screamed danger. Percy’s eyes nearly glowed with rage. Goosebumps broke out across Paul’s skin which made no sense because he was just a kid , right? Remember you are the goddamn grown-up, Blofis!
Shoulders squared, Paul refused to back down. “Percy, your mother and I were just discussing your recent behaviors. The breaking curfew, the fights, the attitude. Do you have anything to say on the subject?”
“You’re not my dad, Paul, so stop trying to act like it,” Percy snarled.
“Percy!” Sally admonished, surprised at the venom in her son’s voice.
Before she could intervene further, Paul cut in with a tight jaw. “You’re right, Percy, I’m not your father, because I’m still here , and I don’t plan on running away ,” he grounded out.
He regretted it immediately. The hurt on Sally’s face squeezed at his heart, but the downright heartbreak that flashed in Percy’s eyes felt like a gut punch.
“Shit,” Paul lamented. Agitated, Paul quickly brought his hand up, intending to run it through his hair.
Several things happened very quickly.
First, Sally flinched.
Second, Percy moved , suddenly between Paul and Sally.
Third, the kid loomed over Paul, waves of danger and threat radiating from him. Before he could fully process, Paul gulped and took a startled half-step back, eyes wide.
Percy breathed deeply through his nose and growled through his teeth, “Back the fuck up.”
A small part of Paul screamed I’m the fucking grown-up, who the fuck does he think he’s talking to? It was shut up by the louder part of his brain that realized he’s stepped on a goddamn emotional landmine. Paul backed the fuck up, slowly raising his hands in front of him in a placating manner. He glanced quickly between Percy and Sally, taking in her misty eyes and pained expression as she kept a hand over her mouth. Her eyes never left her son, like she was seeing him for the first time.
Paul kept his voice soft and slow. “Percy, it’s okay. Everyone is okay. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it.”
Percy glowered through dark bangs, jaw and fists clenched. He only slightly relaxed when Sally gently slipped her hand into his and placed her other hand on his shoulder.
Paul tried again, “No one is going to hurt your mom, it’s okay.”
Percy breathed deeply through a clenched jaw. Sally gingerly cupped his face and pulled him close. She touched their foreheads together and whispered, “It’s okay baby, we’re safe. It’s okay.”
Percy hunched his shoulders and murmured in a shuddery breath, “‘m sorry. He sounded like– like, y’know…Gabe. I thought he was going to....”
Sally sniffled and more pieces of the puzzle that made up Percy and the Jackson family slammed into place. Paul felt ice in his gut as he put two and two together. Sally didn’t talk much about her missing ex-husband, what she did say coupled with Paul not being stupid , and suddenly Percy made a lot more sense.
“Perc-” Paul choked on emotion. He took a breath and cleared his throat. Percy’s glare returned. “Percy, I promise you, I will never hit you or your mom. Yes, we were arguing, but I– It wasn’t– I promise–”
Paul’s thoughts jumbled and tripped over his tongue. Slowly, Percy’s glare softened. Stormy eyes turned misty and he turned his face to the side, avoiding eye contact. Sally softly carded her fingers through the teen’s hair. Paul watched as Percy took a deep breath before looking back at him, tears shining in his eyes.
“Yeah, no, I-I know that Paul. You- you’re a good guy. Just sometimes my brain gets a little, I don’t know, confused? Mixed up? It’s hard having you here sometimes because the last guy was so…,” Percy’s breath hitched as he glanced towards his mom then the floor, “awful.”
Paul swallowed hard. Then, feeling brave, he took a step forward. Percy tensed up then forced himself to relax. Taking that as a good sign, Paul slowly (carefully) placed a hand on Percy’s shoulder. Sally flashed them both a watery smile when Percy didn’t
rip out Paul’s throat
shrug Paul’s hand away.
Paul stared directly into Percy’s sea-green eyes and spoke, “Percy, I can’t even imagine the pain you and your mom went through while with Gabe.” Percy averted his eyes, opting to stare at his shoes instead. “Neither of you deserved it. No one deserves to be treated like that, understand me?” Percy gave a non-committal, one-shoulder shrug.
“Percy, look at me,” Paul said softly. Slowly, Percy brought his gaze from the floor to things around the room before finally meeting Paul’s eyes. “I know there is nothing I can say that will make you believe me, so all I ask if that you give me a chance to show you , to prove to you that you and Sally are safe with me. I’m sorry for coming on too strong. I’m sorry for what I said about your father. While there are some serious concerns we need to address later, I should have done a better job of controlling my temper. I am sorry for that and I will do better in the future. But we both need to do better at talking to each, man to man, okay?” Percy bit his lip and nodded softly. “Okay,” Paul whispered, letting go of Percy’s shoulder.
He sniffled. Paul lifted his glasses and wiped the tears from his eyes. He pretended not to notice when Percy did the same, ears burning red. Sally beamed at them both, tears freely falling down her face. She wrapped an arm around each of their waists and pulled them both close for a hug. Paul pulled her close with one hand and scrubbed at his cheek with the other. Percy likewise tried to blink the tears away while holding his mother in a one-armed bear hug.
“I’m proud of both of you,” Sally praised, giving them both an affectionate squeeze.
Percy’s face burned red. “Mom, ew, feelings are gross.”
Sally playfully flicked Percy’s ear. Ignoring his whine of ‘Ow, moooooom!’ she playfully chided, “Is that so? Coming from the boy who used to throw tantrums so explosive he would crawl under my bed and nap?”
Percy’s blush deepened and he whined, “MoooOOOooom”. Paul bit his lip at the voice crack as Percy turned completely red and hung his head in defeat.
Sally laughed, a sweet, mischievous sound Paul loved, and said to her son, “Now, now, Percy, this won’t do for a Hero of Olympus. Heroes don’t squawk.”
Totally over it, Percy untangled himself from the family hug and dropped his arms at his sides. With some teenaged rumblings and complaints, he excused himself back to his room in a totally cool and dignified way, okay?
Alone, Paul turned to Sally with a smile. “Hero of Olympus?” he asked.
Sally just smiled, shrugged, and batted her eyelashes at him.
Paul had a feeling he would just have to accept that Sally and Percy would probably never make sense to him.
—-------
After seeing the hellhound, Percy and Sally made a helluva lot more sense.
Turned out, the demi-god thing wasn’t a joke.
Apparently, Percy is a part of some big life-or-death prophecy. Paul wasn't a fan of that.
Paul asked Percy for his blessing to marry Sally and he said yes.
Paul proposed and she said yes.
Percy went on dangerous quests and fought monsters and brought Priuses back with pegasus prints on the hood.
Things got a little easier after that.
For awhile…