Two Sides of the Same Coin (Fem. Percy x YJ)

Chapter 3

I hummed a tune under my breath as I counted out bills. The activity was mind numbing, boring, and repetitive, but it was more than enough to keep myself occupied throughout the remainder of the night. Adrenaline never made sleeping easy, neither did not knowing if Mom or Dad got caught. Those were always the worst nights really, because I knew the next week would be spent making escape plans. I'd rather hit up banks. They were easy. I'd always had an uncanny knack for knowing which bills were the dummy pack, even before I came fully into my powers.

As the last of the hundreds went into the pile on the cold living room floor, I pressed my lips together. Over ten thousand dollars and I got to keep twenty-eight percent of it. I shoved four thousand dollars into my drawstring bag. I doubted anyone would notice the little extra missing. And even if the bank decided to report the amount stolen, they'd either under or over report, it was never the actual amount. Maybe it was an attempt to deter crime or an attempt to get more money from the government, but it never mattered when every villain worth their salt knew the tricks. 

Binding the rest of the money in neat stacks and tucking them under the couch, I waited. The uneven ticking of the clock kept me company throughout the night, long after my eyes had grown weary. Each and every time I nodded off, I jerked back awake. I couldn't fall asleep, not now, not without Mom and Dad home. A brief thought flickered in my mind. It smoldered like an ember, and I smothered it as if it were one too. 

Entertaining any line of thought this late never turned out well. 

It would come back, already it lurked around the fringes, preparing to force itself to the forefront. My teeth dug into the tender skin of my hand, accompanied with mental beratement,  before it could. 

I fixed my eyes on the door, slid them to the clock, stood, grabbed my bag, and slipped into my room. The familiar air and smells wrapped around me like a warm hug from Mom. Sighing, I dropped my shoulders ---and my bag--- and flopped face first onto my bed. I was fine. I could lay there and listen for the door, wait for the house to rattle with the force from Dad shoving it shut.

Longer and longer, I waited. No noise from outside, no hint they were okay. I sat up with a sigh. Small slivers of silver slipped through the boarded window. The light from that old lamp outside was enough to make out the dresser, the bookshelf, and a worn chair which had been refurbished more times than I'd come close to dying. 

Nothing had changed since I'd left---since Hera took me---not even the laundry laying about. I frowned. I'd need to wash it all again, even the clean stuff. An issue to deal with later, but it didn't stop the tightening of my chest. 

I missed so much. All those months wandering without knowing who I was, what I was, and only knowing that monsters wanted me dead, they should have been spent here. Instead, I had to play hero. Had to go through hell all because the gods decided to be idiots. Wood creaked dangerously under my hands. I sucked in a deep breath. The too-dry air scraped my windpipe, burned it.  A flash of red, one I quickly shook off, washed over my vision. Too much had been done, I'd done too much, for this to happen. 

As much as I wanted to say it didn't, the experience rattled me to the point where I didn't react as the house shook, nor when my door cracked open. Dad poked his head inside. A patch of white makeup stained his purple sleeves, and his bright red lipstick smeared across his cheek. 

"You need to stop wiping it off like that," I said. "It has to be horrible for your skin."

"You should be asleep." He slipped in as though he was a shadow. Dad lifted a large hand to my cheek, tilting my head up, and stroked his thumb across it in the way he always did. My eyes fluttered closed. "Come on, my little ace. Get to bed." The words---and oh how did my face warm at the endearment-- were no doubt punctuated with a jerk of his chin. 

"Night, Dad."

After a long kiss to my head, he left. I collapsed into my bed, screwed my eyes shut, and pleaded for sleep once more. Twisting, turning, and everything in between, I tried to, I really did. To lose sleep as a normal kid, as normal as I ever could be, was bad enough, but as a demigod it could turn deadly in a heartbeat. 

Mangled bodies and bloodied faces flashed in my mind. Scrunching my face, I tried to will them away. It worked for a moment, only to leave blonde hair mattered with red mud seared forever into my brain. I curled, dug my nails into the tender flesh of my sides, and raked burning trails. I needed to--

I needed to get rid of that image. 

Sniffling, I rolled out of bed. My body slammed against the floor, but the pain distracted me. The house was quiet, but the world outside wasn't. Sirens rushed by, alarms blared, just the usual Gotham night. Unusual in that I ended up outside the askew door of my parents room, and unusual that Mom hadn't tried to wrestle the door back into frame. 

 I peered inside. If they were already asleep, like the soft breathing told me--

"What are you still doing up?" asked Dad, yanking the door open. I yelped and fell onto my ass. Cowering came naturally to me, and it only led to a sigh. His knees popped as he crouched. "Percy, you know I won't hurt you."

"Gotta play the part," I mumbled, dropping my arms and looking up at him. He'd changed into a loose shirt and sweats. A half formed thought about stealing some of his shirts rose up, before being discarded.

Dad grimaced. "Doesn't mean I like it." In a simple move, he pulled me into his arms and stood. "Just like I don't like you having to go off and play hero. But the world would've ended, so I can't complain too much about what you get up to. At least you're not doing drugs." He carried me into his room, and I pressed my face against his shoulder. The bed complained under our combined weight, and he shifted, letting me sit beside him. "Why are you up?"

"Can I sleep in here?" I asked. I leaned against him and stared up at him with big eyes. The scent of sandalwood wrapped around me, making my nose scrunch up just a little. "Please?"

"You're lucky you're cute."

"Thanks, Daddy." With a soft smile on my lips, the leaning turned into hugging, and the hugging turned into Dad peppering my hair with kisses. I closed my eyes and savored every touch, every kiss. Soft and gentle, he acted like every action risked breaking me. From him, I didn't mind. He pushed Mom over with one hand. Thump, went the pillow Mom threw blindly at him. With a roll of his eyes, Dad laid me down. 

"Sleep tight, don't let the demon cats bite."

"Good thing I have a hellhound," I said. 

Dad climbed back into bed, pulled the covers up, taking time to tuck some around me even when it was pointless, and closed his eyes. Between him and Mom, their breathing, their presence and smell, I was safe. 

My eyes closed as Mom's hand settled on my cheek. I drifted off soon after.

How'd you enjoy the chapter?

Don't forget to help my brain out by giving me seratonin from votes or comments
Or both if you really want to

Also it is past midnight as I write this, so it is time to pass out

See yah