New beginnings (Percy Jackson abuse story)

Good girl

It's been a few weeks since (as Trition put it) Percy's dramatic exit.

And things have been better...

With Poseidon anyway.

In the past few weeks Poseidon had actually made a effort to know Percy.  Every Friday they'd go to a movie or to dinner or even once Poseidon took Percy to the docks to see a massive cruise ship being build for Poseidon's company.

Poseidon had learned that Percy liked to draw and could play the piano. He had learned that Percy loved everything and anything blue. And he even learned (though Percy didn't elaborate on why) that the smell of a alcohol made Percy nauseous.

In turn Percy learned that Poseidon like the color green and yellow and liked old movies and would only listen to music that was at least 50 years old. That Poseidon loved to swim and fish and most of all talk shit about Percy's uncles even though he grudgingly loved them.

But with all this time bonding they had stayed clear of anything they probably should discuss.

Like the trial

Or Percy's abuse.

Or how Triton still hated Percy and now hated Poseidon for spending so much time with Percy.

Or Percy's doctors appointment Hestia had set up a few months ago.

Dr. Grace (who preferred to just be called Apollo) was flying in from Los Angeles to give the lawyers the official account of the abuse that happened to Percy.

Dr. Grace (other than being related to the family) was one of the best in his field. He dealt with a lot of patients that had PTSD or had been in an traumatic experience. Usually he only stayed in L.A. But he wanted to do this for his uncle and his new cousin.

And, he had to admit to himself, he was curious about him.

Apollo had heard a lot about Percy, but mostly from his father who liked to filter everything about the boy in the most scrutinizing light ever.

He wanted to see for himself what his mystery cousin was really like.

Percy was dreading going to this. He didn't know why it was necessary, didn't they already have enough evidence.

When the cops got to his house all those months ago, Percy was litterally bleeding to death.

Apparently someone at the hospital had been an on the spot donor.

And yet months later he was paler now than he had been after losing  pints of blood.

It's not that Percy was afraid of doctors. He didn't mind needles or stitches or even the weird way too clean smell they had.

What he minded were the scale and the physical.

He hated looking at scales. He was way too skinny but he felt fat. And he knew that if this doctor told Poseidon he was underweight Poseidon would make Percy eat more and then Percy would get fat.

And he hated physicals. You know, the part where they make you take off your shirt.

Now usually, the doctor would let you cover up all parts except for your back to be sure you don't have scoliosis, but today, not only would Percy have remove his clothing, he would have to do it in front of a random guy who would photograph every scare.

Every single one.

Percy couldn't help wonder how long that would take.

There were just so many.