Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sky groaned, heavy with storm clouds as Zeus stumbled back to his throne atop Olympus, clutching his chest. His golden skin burned like fire, and his divine essence roiled with pain unlike any he'd known before. He had broken a sacred oath — a Styx oath — the most unbreakable of promises among gods.
But he was a weak man, he let this movie star bewitch him, and now she was giving birth to the child of the prophecy and a forbidden child. Oh, how his child will suffer, would they even survive the year he was insensible?
As the Styx's curse rendered him senseless, he surrendered to the punishment. For one long, insufferable year, Zeus was neither awake nor asleep. He existed in a void, shunned by divine grace, a shadow of himself. When he returned, weary and stripped of power, he found Olympus silent. The nine-year banishment had begun. He was no longer welcome in the realm of gods.
Beryl Pov
The storm rolled in without warning, casting the small suburban neighborhood in sudden shadows. Thunder rumbled low and distant, but it held no threat—just a prelude. Inside her modest home, Beryl Grace held her one-year-old daughter, Thalia, close. The toddler was restless, her stormy eyes mirroring the weather outside. It wasn’t unusual for strange things to happen when Thalia was upset but tonight felt different. Heavy.
When the knock came, Beryl nearly jumped dropping her daughter. Few people visited her anymore, first in her friend group to get pregnant so she got left behind. She opened the door cautiously, and there he was.
“Zeus,” she breathed, the feeling came quickly confusion, and anger were most prominent.
The man on her doorstep looked both familiar and... diminished. His once-pristine robes were replaced by simple, weathered clothing, and the usual commanding glow of his presence had dimmed. But his eyes—those fierce, electric blue eyes—still carried the storm within them. He looked weary, but there was something softer, almost humbled, in the way he stood.
“May I come in?” he asked, his voice quieter than she remembered.
Beryl hesitated, clutching Thalia a little tighter, looking down at her daughter and her same eccentric blue eyes as her father. This was a terrible mistake ber, don’t do this voice in her head insisted but Beryl sighed and stepped aside. Inside, Zeus took in the modest surroundings, his gaze lingering on Thalia. Her child stared back at him, tilting her head as though recognizing something unspoken. She held Thalia closer to her, I was no fool, she knew how dangerous and jealous the gods were, how they could hurt her precious girl.
“What do you want, Zeus?” my voice was sharp, protective. “You’ve been gone for over a year. I don’t hear from you, I don’t see you, and now you just show up?”
“I know,” he said, lowering himself into a chair, looking suddenly out of place in her humble living room. “I owe you more than an explanation. I owe you an apology.”
“Start talking.”
Zeus sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, now streaked with faint silver—a detail that struck Beryl as strange. Gods didn’t age, yet here he was, looking... mortal.
“Do you know the River Styx?” he began, his voice heavy.
Beryl frowned didn’t know why this was relevant. “Of course. The river of oaths. The one no god would dare cross lightly.”
He nodded. “Nearly a hundred years ago, me and my brothers swore not to have any children, as they were …. too dangerous and complications came along with them.”
Beryl’s jaw tightened. “Complications. Is that what you call our daughter?” she snapped, her voice rising.
Her voice and action were aggressive though in her head she were begging and panicking Please no, don’t let him take her daughter away, she was just a child, her baby.
“No,” Zeus said firmly, his eyes flashing. “Thalia is no complication. She is my daughter, and she is extraordinary.” His tone softened as he looked at the child again. “But I broke my oath. By the laws of the gods, by the will of the Styx, I had to pay the price.”
Beryl’s anger faltered, replaced by confusion. “What price?”
“For a year, I was... lost. Rendered insensible. My power was stripped, my consciousness—gone. I was not Zeus, not truly. Just... nothing.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and Beryl could see the weight of that year in his eyes. “And Nine years of exile from Olympus.”
Beryl stared at him, the anger in her chest giving way to disbelief. “You’re saying the most powerful god in existence—you—were punished for breaking your word. And now... what? You’re here to pick up where you left off?”
“No,” Zeus said quickly, shaking his head. “I’m here because I have nowhere else to go. I’m here because I want to be here.”
Beryl blinked, unsure how to respond.
“I’ve made mistakes, Beryl,” Zeus admitted, his voice quieter now. “More than I can count. But when I was... gone, when I was nothing, I thought only of you. Of our daughter. When I woke, I knew I couldn’t stay away. Not anymore.”
“So, what are you saying?” she asked, her tone cautious.
“I’m saying I want to help. I want to raise our daughter. To be here for her—and for you—if you’ll have me.”
Beryl looked at him, her mind racing. This wasn’t the Zeus she remembered—the proud, untouchable god who had swept into her life like a whirlwind and left just as quickly. This Zeus was different. He looked... human.
“Do you even know how to be a father?” she asked, her skepticism plain, to be honest she didn’t know how to be a mother but still.
He smiled faintly, a flicker of the arrogance she remembered shining through. “I’ve ruled the heavens for millennia and have had many children. How hard could one child be?”
Thalia chose that moment to tug on my sleeve, pointing at Zeus with a curious babble. Lightning flickered faintly in her tiny fists. Zeus laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine, and reached out his hand. Thalia hesitated for a moment, then grabbed his finger. The crackling stopped, replaced by a quiet calm.
“She’s incredible,” Zeus said, his voice filled with awe. “Like her mother.”
Beryl sighed, damn his charm, her resolve wavering. “If you’re going to stay, Zeus, you have to stay. No disappearing for a year. No running back to Olympus the moment they forgive you.”
“I swear it,” he said, his voice firm. “No oaths this time. Just my word.”
Beryl studied him for a long moment, then nodded, her heart still heavy with doubt but softened by the hope in his eyes. “Fine. But if you screw this up, you’ll wish the Styx had taken more than a year from you.”
Zeus chuckled, a sound that carried more relief than mirth. “Understood.”

Chapter Text

It’s been one month since my brother has broken his oath, and to be honest I did think he would have broken it sooner. It seems most of the other gods did too, apollo was collecting his bet money, honestly, gods should know better than the bet against the god of prophecy. My sister, Hera was furious but pleased to know he is being punished, so now it is just figuring out, how we should proceed, for the next 10 years without our king.
"This is unacceptable! How can we rule without a king? How long must we endure his punishment?" Ares said furiously.
"Nine years," Athena reminded her coolly, her grey eyes calm but sharp. "The Styx has taken its due. Zeus will not return until the exile is complete."
"Nine years!" Ares spat his voice a storm of indignation. "And we are to what? Limp along without leadership. This is a disgrace!"
Poseidon shifting In his seat, answered Ares. "Careful, nephew You wouldn’t want the Styx to hear you disrespecting the laws that bound him. Or do you plan to take a dip yourself?"
Hera and Ares glared at me, but Athena interjected before the argument could escalate. "The question is not whether this is acceptable, but how we proceed. Olympus cannot remain leaderless. There are mortals to watch over, domains to balance, and threats to manage."
“I could take the throne,” Hera declared, lifting her chin. “As queen, it is only natural. I am his wife, his equal.”
Scoffing I roll my eyes. “Equals hardly just because sister, the one born from Kronus and Rhea are equal in power does not mean we are equal in skill or domain. Zeus is the god of justice don’t forget, you are not. With you on the throne soley sister, I fear Olympus would descend into chaos within the year.”
Hera bristled, but before she could respond, Apollo spoke up from his sunlit seat. “Perhaps we could rule collectively, as a council. No single king or queen, but decisions made through a vote.”
Ares, lounging in his blood-red armor, snorted. “That’ll never work. We’d be at each other’s throats in a week.”
“Not all of us solve problems by stabbing them,” Athena retorted icily. Trying not to scoff, you sure do Pallas Athena.
“Enough,” Poseidon growled, his voice carrying the weight of crashing waves. The bickering stopped, and all eyes turned to him. Leaning forward, my expression grim. “Zeus is gone. Whatever you think of him—and believe me, I’ve got my share of thoughts—he held Olympus together. Without him, we’re vulnerable.”
Hades, who had been silent until now, spoke from his shadowy throne. “He’s right. The underworld is already restless. The Styx’s punishment is not unknown among the dead, and whispers of Zeus’s absence are spreading. The mortal world may be next.”
Hermes fidgeted in his seat, adjusting his winged sandals. “So, what do we do? Pretend he’s still here? Fake some lightning bolts?”
“That would fool no one,” Artemis said sharply. “Our enemies will sense the imbalance, no matter what tricks you try.”
“Then we must prepare for war,” Ares said eagerly, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “With or without Zeus, we can crush any threat that dares to rise against us.”
“I agree with Ares, with must be prepared for attacks,” Hephaestus said, rarely agreeing with his brother.
After an exhausting number of hours, we have come to a decision, Olympus would be ruled by Hera, Demeter, and Hestia as equals until Zeus returned. Honestly, we probably should have just let them rule Olympus in the first place.
----------
Hades was going to kill me, looking up at Sally as she excitedly told me she was pregnant. Maybe condoms don’t work with gods, and to think I was so excited by that invention too.
“How far along?” trying to fake joy. Not only were Hades going to kill me, but Amphitrite, and triton.
“I think 3 weeks”, great I’ve got time to prepare Triton to go to the stupid council meeting and give Amphy a warning before she left looking after the kingdom all alone.
“So have you heard of river Styx by any chance?”
-----------
Poseidon stood alone at the edge of the Aegean Sea; his gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun dipped below the waves. The water rippled against his feet, restless as if it sensed his unease. His trident was absent, left behind in his undersea palace, but he felt no less powerful. At least, that’s what he told himself. In truth, a weight had settled in his chest—a foreboding he couldn’t shake.
He had felt the tug of the River Styx for weeks now, it's cold grip tightening as a silent warning. The punishment was coming, inevitable as the tide. He had broken his oath, sworn by the Styx itself, never to sire another child with a mortal. And now, as the mortal woman Sally Jackson brought their son into the world, Poseidon felt the consequence bearing down on him like the crushing pressure of the deepest trenches.
He could feel his son’s presence now, faint but unmistakable—a spark of life flickering into existence on the mortal plane. The child was born. His son. A demigod destined to bear the weight of a world that Poseidon himself could no longer fully shield him from.
The waves churned violently around him, reflecting the storm inside his body. He clenched his fists, summoning what strength he could to resist the Styx’s punishment, but it was no use. The ancient power that governed all divine oaths demanded its due.
His vision blurred, and for a moment, he was no longer in control. Flashes of Sally’s face came to him, her smile as bright as the sun on the waves. The memory of her laughter cut through his agony like a bomb, and for a moment, he found clarity amidst the chaos. He had broken his oath because of her, because of the love they had shared. And now, their son was the result of that love.
Poseidon gritted his teeth, his voice rising above the roar of the sea. “Do what you will, Styx, but you will not take him. You will not take my son!”
The sea responded to his defiance, rising in towering waves around him, as if trying to shield its lord from the punishment. But even the ocean could not stop the will of the Styx. A final surge of pain wracked Poseidon’s body, and he collapsed fully into the surf, the water embracing him as his mind slipped into darkness.

Chapter Text

When Poseidon awoke, the sun had long since set, and the stars glittered faintly above. The pain had subsided, leaving him weak and disoriented. He could feel the Styx’s mark on him now, an invisible tether that would bind him in exile from Olympus for nine years. His power felt... diminished, though not entirely gone. He was still the Lord of the Sea, but his authority had been muted, as though the very fabric of his being had been humbled by the punishment.
He stood slowly, the sea steadying him as he rose. His mind turned immediately to Sally and Percy. Were they safe? Had Sally made it through the ordeal of childbirth unscathed? Had Percy taken his first breath, his first cry, under the shadow of this divine reckoning?

Poseidon reached out with his senses, searching for them. In his weakened state, it took more effort than usual, but he found them at last—a faint connection pulsing like a heartbeat through the mortal world. Sally’s love burned bright, a beacon even in his diminished state. And Percy... his son’s essence was strong, stronger than Poseidon had dared to hope. The child carried the power of the sea within him, a force untamed and full of potential.
He closed his eyes, his lips forming a soft, weary smile. The Styx may have punished him, but it could not take away the pride and love that swelled within him. Percy was here. Alive.

Sally Pov

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when she felt it—the sudden, familiar pull of the ocean in her chest, a presence she hadn’t realized she missed so fiercely. Sally was sitting in the small living room of her apartment, rocking Percy in her arms as the infant stirred, his tiny fists waving at the air. She froze, her breath catching as the air seemed to thicken, tinged with the faint scent of salt.
A knock sounded at the door.
Sally stood slowly, her heart racing. She cradled Percy close as she walked to the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. When she opened it, the sight that greeted her took her breath away.
Poseidon stood there; his sea-green eyes soft but full of unspoken emotions. He looked exactly as she remembered him—strong and timeless, yet there was something different about him now. He looked... humbled, perhaps even weary. But the moment he saw her, a smile spread across his face, like the sun breaking through storm clouds.
“Sally,” he said, his voice low and warm. “It’s good to see you.”

Her lips parted, a thousand emotions rushing through her at once—joy, relief, longing. “Poseidon,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “The punishment for Percy wasn’t too bad?”
He just smiled, “Our son is worth it” he admitted, stepping into the doorway. His gaze dropped to the bundle in her arms, and his breath caught. “Is that...?”
Sally nodded, unable to hold back the tears that filled her eyes. “This is Percy.”
Poseidon’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his movements hesitant, almost reverent. “May I...?” he asked, gesturing toward the baby.
Smiling through her tears and gently placed Percy in his arms. The infant stirred, his tiny face scrunching up for a moment before settling as if sensing the presence of something familiar, something safe.
Poseidon cradled his son carefully, his large hands dwarfing the tiny bundle. For a long moment, he simply stared at Percy, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled—a soft, aching smile that Sally had never seen before. He ran a finger gently over Percy’s cheek, his touch as light as a whisper.
“He’s... perfect,” Poseidon said, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s strong. I can feel it.” His sea-green eyes flicked to me, shining with pride and gratitude. “You’ve done so well, Sally.” laughing softly, wiping my tears. “I don’t know about that. He’s a handful already. I think he gets that from you.”
Poseidon chuckled, the sound warm and rich “He’ll be extraordinary, Sally. The power I feel in him... it’s like the sea itself. But it also means his life won’t be easy. He’ll be a target, especially once he’s older. Monsters will sense what he is.”
Sally’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll protect him. No matter what.”
Poseidon looked at her, admiration and love shining in his eyes. “I know you will. You’re stronger than any mortal I’ve ever known.”
For a while, they simply stood there, the three of them cocooned in the warmth of the moment. Percy stirred again, his tiny hand curling around Poseidon’s finger, and the god’s expression softened even further.
“So, for nine years you will be here?” I ask hesitantly, it seems cruel for Percy to know his father then he will be ripped away from him.
“Yes, but even after I returned, I still watch over him and help him in any way I can.”

Chapter Text

Zeus stared at the ultrasound photo in his hand, the grainy black-and-white image blurring as his vision swam with emotion. He’d faced countless battles, endured the wrath of Titans, and wielded power that could reshape the earth. Yet here he was, standing in the cramped living room of their modest Los Angeles bungalow, utterly undone by the sight of a tiny, indistinct silhouette. A new life. His child.

“You’re going to wear it out if you keep staring at it,” Berly teased, her lips curving into a soft smile. She rested a hand on her still-flat stomach, the faintest hint of wonder in her eyes.
Zeus chuckled, the sound rumbling like distant thunder. “I just can’t believe it,” he said. “Another child. It’s… it’s more than I deserve.”
Berly tilted her head, her expression turning serious. “You’re a good father, Zeus,” she said firmly. “Thalia loves you more than anything. And this baby will too.”
“She doesn’t know who I really am,” Zeus said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “What I’ve done. The mistakes I’ve made.”

Remembering all his past mistakes with his children. His children all turn out excellent, but he hurt them in the process of making them that way.
He loves all his children, but until recently he didn’t know how to show that love. He got a lot to make up for, once he got home.

“She knows her dad makes the best pancakes and chases away the monsters under her bed,” Berly countered, stepping closer to him. “That’s what matters.”
Zeus reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re too kind to me, Berly,” he murmured. “More than I deserve.”

Before Berly could reply, a crash came from the backyard, followed by Thalia’s unmistakable shriek of laughter. Zeus’s head snapped up, his heart leaping into his throat. “Stay here,” he said, already striding toward the back door.

When he stepped outside, he was greeted by the sight of Thalia covered head to toe in mud. She was crouched near the small flower bed they’d tried (and failed) to maintain, holding what appeared to be a very unhappy frog in her tiny hands.
“Daddy, look!” she crowed, her face split by a triumphant grin. “I found a prince!”
Zeus pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to laugh. “Thalia, put that poor creature back where you found it,” he said, his tone firm but gentle.
“But he’s, my friend!” Thalia protested, pouting.
“And your friend would be much happier in his home,” Zeus replied. He crouched down to her level, his large hands carefully guiding hers as she released the frog back into the muddy patch. The amphibian wasted no time leaping away, disappearing into the grass.
Thalia sighed dramatically, wiping her hands on her already-ruined dress. “Fine. But he’ll miss me.”

Zeus ruffled her curly hair, his smile softening. “I think he’ll be just fine, little storm.”
“Thalia!” Berly’s voice called from inside. “Come wash up! It’s almost dinnertime.”
“Coming, Mommy!” Thalia yelled back, already skipping toward the house. Zeus watched her go, his heart swelling with an emotion he could only describe as awe. For all the power he had lost, for all the mistakes he’d made, he had somehow been granted this. A second chance. A family.

Later that evening, as he tucked Thalia into bed, she looked up at him with her bright blue eyes, so like his own. “Daddy?” she said sleepily.
“Yes, my little storm?”
“Can the baby hear me?”
Zeus smiled, his hand resting lightly on her head. “Not yet. But soon.”
Thalia’s face lit up. “I’m gonna teach them everything! Like how to catch frogs and climb trees and…” She yawned, her words trailing off as sleep claimed her.
Zeus sat beside her for a long time, watching the steady rise and fall of her small chest.

Berly appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed and a soft smile on her face. “You okay?” she asked.
“More than okay,” Zeus replied. He stood and crossed the room to her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, Berly. For everything.”
She smiled, leaning into him. “We’re in this together, Zeus. All of us.”
As the house settled into quiet for the night, Zeus lay awake, his thoughts swirling like a summer storm. The road ahead would not be easy. His punishment was far from over, and the mortal world held challenges he couldn’t foresee. But for the first time in centuries, Zeus felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long, long time. Hope.

Chapter Text

Zeus sat hunched on the creaking wooden steps of the bungalow, staring out at the smoggy Los Angeles skyline. The horizon shimmered with heat, a distorted reflection of his own fractured existence. The king of the gods had once commanded the heavens; now, the most thunderous thing in his life was the distant rumble of traffic from the freeway. Beside him, a curly-haired three-year-old toddled in circles, clutching a stuffed Pegasus to her chest.

“Thalia, stay where I can see you,” Zeus said, his voice weary but firm.
The little girl ignored him, giggling as she spun, the stuffed toy’s wings flapping in time with her movements. “Peggy’s flying! Look, Daddy!” she cried, her blue eyes sparkling with joy.

Zeus’s heart clenched. The term "Daddy" was still new to him, as alien as the mortal world he’d been exiled to. He watched her, this tiny storm of energy, and felt a pang of something unfamiliar. Was it pride? Fear? Mortals had so many words for their emotions; gods rarely needed more than wrath, desire, or triumph.

“Yes, very impressive,” Zeus said, attempting a smile. It felt awkward, unnatural, but Thalia didn’t seem to notice. She twirled again, faster this time, until her small feet tripped over the cracked concrete. She landed with a thud, her laughter replaced by a wail.
“Great Olympus,” Zeus muttered under his breath, rising to his feet. He scooped her up, cradling her in arms that still felt awkwardly mortal. Her cries were sharp and piercing, each one like a dagger to his already bruised pride.
“It’s just a scratch,” he said, inspecting her scraped knee. A faint trace of his old power stirred within him, and he placed his hand gently over the wound. A soft, golden glow emanated from his palm, and the scrape vanished.
Thalia sniffled, her sobs slowing as she stared at her now-unblemished knee. “Magic?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Zeus hesitated. “Something like that,” he said. He couldn’t explain to her what he truly was—what he had been. Not yet. How could a three-year-old comprehend that her father had once ruled the skies, only to be cast down for breaking an unbreakable oath?
“Peggy wants magic too,” Thalia declared, holding up her stuffed Pegasus.

Zeus chuckled despite himself. “Peggy doesn’t need magic. She’s already perfect.”
Thalia beamed, her earlier tears forgotten, and Zeus felt a flicker of relief. He set her back on her feet, watching as she resumed her spiraling dance.
The bungalow’s screen door creaked open behind him, and a neighbor’s voice called out. “Hey, Mr. Grace! Need me to watch her while you head to work?”
Zeus turned, his mortal alias still foreign on his tongue. “No, thank you, Mrs. Lopez. We’re fine.”
Mrs. Lopez lingered on the doorstep, her sharp eyes taking in the sight of Thalia playing. “You’ve got a handful there,” she said, smiling. “But she’s a sweet one.”
Zeus nodded, offering a polite smile. Once, mortals had built temples to honor him. Now, they called him "Mr. Grace" and offered babysitting advice. “Yes. She’s…special.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” Mrs. Lopez said before retreating into her own home.
Zeus sighed and turned back to Thalia, who was now crouched in the dirt, poking at a line of ants with a stick. “Don’t eat those,” he said automatically.
Thalia looked up, scandalized. “I’m not! They’re my friends.”
Zeus’s lips twitched. “Good. Friends are important.”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of small crises: a spilled cup of juice, a tantrum over naptime, and an ill-advised attempt to climb the bookshelf. By the time the sun began to set, Zeus felt more exhausted than he had after a hundred years of battling the Titans. Yet there was a strange satisfaction in it, too, a sense of purpose he hadn’t felt in centuries.

As Thalia finally drifted off to sleep, clutching Peggy tightly, Zeus sat beside her tiny bed and let his hand rest on her curls. The mortal world was a prison, a punishment he had railed against since the moment of his banishment. But as he watched his daughter’s peaceful face, he wondered if perhaps it was also an opportunity.

For centuries, he had been a king, a warrior, a god. Now, he was something far more daunting: a father.
“Sleep well, little one,” he murmured. “We’ll face this world together.”
The faint hum of the city’s night filled the room, and for the first time in a long while, Zeus felt something like peace.

Chapter Text

Poseidon stood in the middle of the cramped New York apartment, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the one-year-old perched in the middle of the living room floor. Percy, his son, gnawed contentedly on a rubber sea horse, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him. The remnants of breakfast—a soggy banana slice, half a bottle of formula, and what Poseidon could only describe as sticky chaos—were scattered across the room.

“This can’t be harder than battling Typhon,” Poseidon muttered under his breath. He’d faced primordial sea monsters, navigated storms, and ruled the vast oceans. Surely looking after one tiny mortal child would be manageable.
Or so he thought.
The morning had started well enough. Sally kissed Percy on the forehead and gave Poseidon a quick rundown of “Percy’s routine” before rushing out the door to her shift at the candy shop. “It’s simple,” she’d said. “He’ll nap after lunch. Keep him entertained with his toys, but no TV, okay? And don’t forget to change him.”

Poseidon had nodded confidently at the time, waving her off. But now, standing in the wreckage of what had once been a tidy living room, he was beginning to understand the error of his hubris.
The first mistake came with breakfast.
“Humans eat this, right?” Poseidon said aloud, holding up a jar of pureed peas. Percy, seated in his high chair, banged his tiny fists on the tray in excitement.
“Good,” Poseidon grunted. He unscrewed the lid and dipped the tiny plastic spoon into the green sludge. With the precision of a god—or so he thought—he brought the spoon to Percy’s lips.
Percy took one taste, paused, and then spat the peas back out with surprising force. The green mush splattered across Poseidon’s shirt, the high chair, and the wall. The god of the seas blinked, uncomprehending, as Percy let out a delighted giggle.
“Fine,” Poseidon said, wiping his face with a dish towel. “Let’s try… this.” He grabbed a banana and awkwardly mashed it with a fork. This time, Percy accepted the offering, smearing bits of fruit across his cheeks and hair in the process.
“You look like a sea cucumber,” Poseidon muttered, but Percy only laughed harder.

After breakfast, Poseidon decided to introduce Percy to the wonders of his domain. He filled the bathtub and gently set the child in the shallow water, adding a few floating toys for good measure.
“Behold,” Poseidon intoned, kneeling beside the tub. “The power of the sea.” He swirled his hand through the water, creating tiny waves that sent Percy’s toy boats bobbing.
At first, Percy squealed with delight, splashing happily. But then Poseidon caught up in the moment and summoned a slightly larger wave. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub, soaking the bathroom floor and Percy’s clean towel. Percy burst into tears.

“No, no, no,” Poseidon said quickly, lifting the dripping child out of the tub. “It’s fine. No harm done.” But Percy’s wails only grew louder, echoing through the tiny apartment.
By midday, Poseidon was beginning to feel the weight of his exile more acutely than ever. On Olympus, he had been a god—powerful, revered, commanding legions of sea creatures. Here, he was reduced to wiping up spilled milk and trying to decipher the mysterious workings of a mortal diaper. (He’d put it on backward the first time, prompting another round of wails from Percy.)

When lunch rolled around, Poseidon played it safe, sticking to small finger foods that Percy could feed himself. The child seemed content, babbling happily as he stuffed bits of bread and cheese into his mouth. Poseidon watched him with a mixture of exhaustion and awe.
“You’re small,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “but you’re strong. Just like your mother.” Percy didn’t respond, of course, but he grinned up at Poseidon, his green eyes sparkling.

By the time Sally returned that evening, Poseidon was sprawled on the couch, looking as though he’d just emerged from a battle. His shirt was stained, his hair was damp, and he was fairly certain there was a goldfish cracker stuck to his back. Percy was fast asleep in his crib, his tiny fists clutching his favorite blanket.
Sally took one look at Poseidon and burst out laughing. “Rough day?” she asked, setting down her bag.
“He’s… indomitable,” Poseidon replied, rubbing his temples.
Sally smiled and walked over to him, kissing his cheek. “You did fine,” she said. “He’s happy and safe. That’s what matters.”
Poseidon let out a weary chuckle. “Safe, perhaps. But happy? He cried at least four times. Once because I gave him the wrong spoon.”
“He’s one,” Sally said, sitting beside him. “That’s normal. He’s figuring out the world. And you’re figuring out how to be a dad. You’ll get there.”
Poseidon looked at her, his expression softening. “Thank you, Sally. For trusting me with him.”
“You’re his father,” she said. “And you’re doing better than you think.”

Chapter Text

Poseidon’s footsteps echoed on the cracked concrete as he made his way through the park, Percy balanced on his hip. The one-year-old’s chubby hands were occupied with a teething ring, his wide green eyes taking in the world with curiosity. For once, Poseidon had managed to keep him relatively clean, though his shirt bore a faint smear of something that might have been banana.
The park was quiet, save for the occasional laughter of children and the rustle of leaves in the warm Los Angeles breeze. Poseidon’s heart was heavy, his mind swirling with thoughts of his exile, the weight of his diminished power, and the sheer chaos of parenting. He was a god of the sea, used to commanding storms and creatures of the deep not wrangling babies.

Ahead, he saw him. Zeus sat on a worn picnic bench, his golden hair glinting in the sunlight. Thalia, now three, was climbing a nearby jungle gym, her laughter ringing. Zeus looked utterly at ease, one arm slung over the back of the bench, a water bottle in his hand. But Poseidon knew better. His brother’s carefree demeanor was an act, a mask to hide the same struggles they both faced.

“I see exile has treated you well,” Poseidon called as he approached.
Zeus’s head snapped up, and for a moment, his expression was one of pure surprise. Then he threw back his head and laughed, loud and booming.

“Brother!” Zeus said, rising to his feet. “You finally sought me out. I was wondering how long it would take. “
His eyes gleamed with mischief as he added, “Though I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you with your own little storm cloud.”

Poseidon adjusted Percy on his hip and sighed. “Yes, well, fatherhood has a way of humbling even the mightiest of gods.”
“Does it ever” Zeus replied, his grin widening. He gestured for Poseidon to sit, and the sea god lowered himself onto the bench with a groan. Percy wriggled in his arms, reaching out for the teething ring Zeus held up to him with a chuckle.

“You know,” Zeus said, his tone turning to tease, you mocked me for centuries about meddling with mortals. Yet here you are. It seems the mighty Poseidon couldn’t resist the charms of a mortal woman either.”
Poseidon rolled his eyes. “Save your gloating. You’re no better, and we both know it.”
Zeus’s laughter rumbled again, but there was a softness to it. “Fair enough. So, what brings you here? Besides the desire for my excellent company, of course.”

Poseidon hesitated, then sighed. “I need your advice. This parenting thing. It’s harder than I thought. He’s only a year old, and already he’s more exhausting than a hydra.”
Zeus’s grin turned knowing. “Ah, the trials of fatherhood. Let me guess you’ve been spit on, cried at, and utterly defeated by a diaper?”

Poseidon groaned. “All of the above. And I’ve barely started. Sally is incredible, but when she’s at work, I feel like I drowning. Which I physically cannot do”

“Welcome to the club,” Zeus said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thalia was the same at that age. She is three now, and I’m still learning as I go. But here’s a tip: always keep snacks on hand. Hungry kids are cranky kids.”

Poseidon nodded slowly, filing that away. “And what about the other stuff? The emotional part. What if I mess this up?”
Zeus's expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. You will mess up,” he said frankly.

“We all do. But it’s not about being perfect, brother. It’s about showing up. Being there when they need you. Listening. Loving them, even when it’s hard.”
Thalia chose that moment to run over, her curly hair bouncing as she threw herself into Zeus's arms “Daddy! I climbed all the way to the top!” she exclaimed, her face glowing with pride.
“That’s my girl,” Zeus said, scooping her up and planting a kiss on her forehead. He turned back to Poseidon, his voice quieter but no less certain. “You’ll figure it out, just like I did. And when you’re not sure what to do just love them. It’s enough.”

Poseidon looked down at Percy, who had fallen asleep in his arms, his tiny fist clutching a lock of his father’s hair. For the first time in months, a small smile tugged at the corners of Poseidon’s mouth.
“Thank you, brother,” he said “for this. For reminding me I’m not alone in this madness.”
Zeus grinned, his eyes twinkling with warmth.
“What are brothers for? Now, let’s see if we can survive the rest of the day without another disaster. Thalia, do you want to show Percy how to play on the swings?”
“Yes!” Thalia shouted, already tugging at Zeus’s hand.
Poseidon rose from the bench, following his brother toward the playground.

Chapter Text

The small beach house was alive with laughter and warmth. The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden rays across the shimmering waves. Outside, the tide rolled lazily, as if it too was in no rush, content to join in the celebration. Inside, the living room was decorated with blue and green streamers that crisscrossed the ceiling like the gentle arcs of waves. Percy’s favorite stuffed dolphin sat atop the modest birthday cake; its frosting shaped like a swirling whirlpool.

Poseidon stood by the window, his sea-green eyes watching as little Percy waddled clumsily across the room, chasing a blue balloon. His son giggled with pure, unfiltered joy; his cheeks flushed as he bounced the balloon against his tiny fists.
Sally Jackson, holding a platter of snacks shaped like sea creatures, grinned as she set it down on the table. “He’s going to exhaust himself before we even get to the cake,” she said, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face.

Poseidon turned to her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “He has your energy, you know. Boundless, like the tides.”
Sally raised an eyebrow as she set her hands on her hips. “Oh, please. He gets that from you. I’ve never met a more stubborn and relentless force of nature.”
Poseidon chuckled, his laugh a deep rumble like distant thunder. “Fair point.”
Percy, hearing their voices, toddled over to his parents, gripping the balloon in one hand while the other reached for Sally’s leg. “Mama! Papa!” he said, holding the balloon up as if it were the greatest treasure in the world.
Poseidon knelt down, his broad hands steadying Percy as he teetered on his little legs. “That’s quite a prize, my boy,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “But are you ready for the true treasure?”
Percy’s eyes widened, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O.’ “trea-trea?”
Sally laughed and crouched beside them; her gaze warm. “Oh, yes. But you have to close your eyes first. Can you do that?”

Percy scrunched his eyes shut; his little face scrunched in concentration. Sally nodded to Poseidon, who reached behind the couch and pulled out a small wooden box, its surface etched with simple waves and stars.

“Alright, Percy,” Poseidon said, his voice playful. “Open your eyes.”

Percy’s green eyes popped open, lighting up as he saw the box. Poseidon placed it in his son’s hands, guiding him as he fumbled with the clasp. When it finally opened, Percy gasped.

Inside was a small conch shell, smooth and pearlescent, nestled in soft blue fabric. It wasn’t an ordinary shell—when Percy touched it, the faint sound of waves and distant gulls filled the room, as though it carried the sea’s music.
“For you,” Poseidon said, his tone tender. “So, no matter where you go, the ocean will always be with you.”
Percy giggled and pressed the shell to his ear, his face lighting up as he heard the sounds. “Sea!” he said happily.
Sally leaned over and kissed the top of Percy’s head. “Happy birthday, my little pearl.”

The rest of the evening passed in simple joys—Percy smearing frosting across his cheeks, Poseidon attempting to play a clumsy round of balloon volleyball with his son, and Sally laughing until tears streamed down her face.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in warm amber hues, Poseidon sat on the floor with Percy in his lap, the boy clutching his conch shell tightly. Sally sat beside them, her head resting on Poseidon’s shoulder, her hand lightly resting on Percy’s tiny foot.