Percy hugged his mom--again--and finally--finally--she was out the door. They waited a few minutes. She didn't come back in claiming to have forgotten her sunglasses or her keys or whatever it was she was making up.

Percy let out a sigh of relief. "I thought she'd never go."

"Same here," Paul chuckled. "So, it's just you and me, Percy. No school, no camp. What do you want to do?"

Percy yawned, though it was only four in the afternoon. Paul pushed it aside, knowing Percy probably had stayed up late Skyping his girlfriend, Annabeth.

"I think I'll talk to Annabeth," he finally said. "Unless. . ."

"No, go ahead." Paul smiled. "I was a teenager once, I know how it is."

"Thanks, Paul." Percy shot him a quick, toothy smile before padding down the hall to his bedroom.

The door shut quietly, but it sounded loud to Paul. He glanced around--alone. He pulled a beer out from the fridge, something he only did when Percy wasn't around. Percy had never said as much, but Paul knew the stories about the old stepfather, and he knew that Percy would be nervous if he saw him drinking. In Paul's mind, it made sense--kid has a stepfather for years, who drinks and beats the mother; kid gets a new stepfather who drinks? Thoughts were bound to form, though Paul never got drunk and would never hurt Sally. The thought of Gabe Ugliano, her former husband, sickened him, especially when he heard the stories.

Paul busied himself doing the dishes, vacuuming and feeding the fish. After that he dusted off a couple of tables and vases and everything in Sally's china cabinet. As the sun was going down, he heard Percy's bedroom door open.

"That was a long call," he mused aloud. "How's she doing?"

"Pretty good," Percy shrugged nonchalantly. "She's at camp right now."

"Anything happen?"

"Nah, she just doesn't like staying with her step-family. They kind of favor their own kids."

"That must be hard for her,"

"She's tough. I don't think she cares that much. I mean, she does, but she's happy at camp. It's her home."

"Do you look at it like your home?" Paul asked, glancing over.

Percy was bent over a bit, looking through the fish bowl and peering at the goldfish as they swam. His hands were stuffed in a hoodie, and his black hair was a mess. "Yeah, I guess I do."

"You miss being there?"

"Yeah, but I miss spending time at home, too. Like, this home, with mom. If I didn't stay here sometimes, she'd go crazy. I guess I kind of would, too."

"Yeah, I understand that."

"You don't talk about your parents a lot." Percy's eyes were still on the fish.

"Not much to talk about. They died when I was younger."

"They've still got stories."

"You're a wise kid, Percy."

Percy laughed loudly. "Tell that to Annabeth."

"Well, when I was little, my mom would take me to the park. Your mom ever take you there, Percy?"

"Yeah, I guess. I remember a few things, like the pond. She says I tried to jump in once to play with a duck."

"I can believe it."

"What would you do there? At the park, I mean."

"We'd picnic. You like picnics?"

"If they're with Annabeth I do. Otherwise no, because there's grass and dirt and ants, and I don't like that." Percy pressed his nose to the fishbowl. If he wasn't the son of Poseidon, it probably would have scared them away. "I think mom and I had one once, but I was too little to remember it. Gabe wasn't around then."

Paul was silent for a few minutes. "You don't ever talk about him, you know that?"

"I know that,"

"You can,"

"I know that too,"

"I'd listen,"

"I know that too," Percy repeated.

"You just don't want to?"

"Not necessarily."

"I know he hurt your mom," Paul was suddenly glad that he had finished his beer over an hour ago.

Percy went stiff.

"I'd never hurt her," Paul continued, watching his stepson closely. "You know that, don't you?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have told you I was okay with you marrying her." Percy said, his muscles relaxed slightly.

"And you're glad I married her?"

"Yeah," Percy said simply.

"We don't really talk, Percy."

"What's there to talk about?"

Paul frowned. "You're being awfully quiet, Percy. You're usually bouncing off the walls."

"ADHD," Percy reminded him.

"Which is why you usually bounce off the walls, I know that. So why aren't you bouncing off of them now?"

"I'm focused," Percy shrugged, then hesitated. "That's an unusual concept. . ."

"It is," Paul agreed, and he watched as Percy's eyes crossed. This actually did scare the fish, and a smile spread on Percy's lips.

"I've never been able to make them swim like that before," Percy laughed.

"What's your favorite animal, Percy?" Paul asked randomly.

"I don't know," Percy shrugged. "A sea animal. Maybe a dolphin."

"Dolphins are fast,"

"I'm fast,"

"I know that," Paul smiled. "Are you okay, Percy?"

"Yeah, why?" Percy glanced over at him with a look of confusion.

"Just asking," Paul said as he replaced one of Sally's china plates. "Parents do that, you know."

Percy blinked. Once, twice, three times. "Okay."

"You didn't know that?"

"Never had anyone but my mom." he said simply, already turned back to the fish.

"Well, you've got me now." Paul said. There was no answer, and he wondered if Percy had heard him.

Turning around, he saw that Percy was tapping the fishbowl, trying to attract one of the goldfish to his finger.

"What are you doing?" Paul chuckled.

"Trying to see which one comes over first," Percy said simply. Eventually, the tiniest goldfish came over, and Percy smiled. "Hey little guy."

Paul turned, blinking in surprise, and he realized that Percy was talking to the fish. Good. That would've been strange.

"You like me?" Percy asked. His voice was softer when he spoke to the fish, a little bit babyish. "You just follow my finger around, don't you? Doesn't matter which way I move it? Hmm. I see . . . eye coordination? That's a new one. It's working for you? That's good."

"Percy, are you. . .?"

"Talking to the fish, Paul." Percy said flatly, before returning to his fish-talking voice. "Say that again, Goldberg, Paul was talking. You want food? Oh, they do, huh?"

Paul shook his head in disbelief as Percy's eyes jumped towards the other fish.

"Leave him alone, guys, stop picking on him. I don't care if he's an easy target. No, you can't push him around because he's small. Hey, I was picked on before, too. Yeah, that's right. Oh, am I getting through to you now?" Percy rolled his eyes and turned back to the little fish. "Oh don't you complain about your name, I'm named Perseus, for Zeus' sake. I don't care if they don't call me that--what would you prefer, Goldie? I didn't think so."

This carried on for quite some time, and Paul was surprised when he turned to find Percy standing behind him some minutes later.

"Need help with that?" Percy pointed to a gravy boat. "Mom says you never clean it right."

"She what?"

"There's always dust in the corners."

"Wha--never mind. You want to help?"

"Not really,"

"But you're asking?"

"Yes,"

"Why?"

"Why so many questions?"

"Because--never mind."

"I'm asking because you're my mom's husband." Percy's voice was strange, almost distant, with a hint of coldness to it.

"That's . . . nice of you, Percy. Thank you." Paul knit his eyebrows behind Percy's back, watching as his stepson reached up and grabbed the gravy boat.

"You know, when I was little, I used to call it a gravy goat." Percy said randomly as he began to clean the inside of it.

"A gravy goat? Where did you think of that one?"

"I'm not sure, but we called it that for years. Gabe didn't like it."

"Did he ever hit you?" Paul asked suddenly, and Percy's body stiffened.

"No, not really. I didn't know he hurt mom for a long time, not until after I returned Zeus's dumb lightning bolt." a clap of thunder sounded outside, but Percy just rolled his eyes. "He pushed me a couple times, but I never got hurt or anything."

"So your mom hid it from you?"

"Yeah, she wanted to protect me. That's why she married the dumb-ass."

Paul almost asked how that made sense, but then he remembered Percy's demigod-ness and realized that the answer would make less sense than the question.

"I'll tell mom you cleaned it," Percy muttered as he stood on his tiptoes to reach the top shelf again. The gravy goat--er, boat--was safe, but his elbow brushed up against a plate, and Percy winced as it shattered on the ground. "Sorry. . ."

"I'll tell your mom I broke it," Paul winked. "Don't worry about it."

Percy offered to clean up the glass shards, but Paul shook his head and told him to find something fun to do, and Percy went back to his room.

Two seconds later the phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered it as he vacuumed the last of the glass slivers up.

"What did Percy do?" Sally's voice demanded. "I heard the thunder."

"Oh he just pissed off his uncle again," Paul rolled his eyes. "No big deal. The house is still standing, sweetheart."

"Make sure he stays out of trouble."

"With me in charge?" Paul guffawed loudly. "Sally, please, he'll be just fine."

And this, of course, is where you should be hearing the music in horror movies that goes 'dun-dun-duuunnn.'