Chapter 38: Bastards
Hermione sat across from Percy and observed his somewhat distant, pensive face looking out the window. The train charged forward with that ever rhythmic bounce on the rail, and the transparent greenery outside reflected on his skin like streaks of paint. The green of his eyes blended right with it. Hermione took a moment to admire them properly before she finally opened her mouth.
"So… Is there anything else I need to know about you, Perseus Jackson?" She drawled his given name, wriggling her eyebrows at him.
The approach was meant to be humorous, but Percy visibly flinched and avoided her eyes, clearly disturbed by something - either the question or the brow wriggle. Likely the former, Hermione thought.
"That looks like a yes." Now curious more than anything, Hermione pressed on. "Well, you know I'm..." she looked around, then leaned in and whispered, "a witch." She moved away again with a smile. "You can trust me to believe most things you'll say. I guarantee my tolerance level is quite high. Nothing's been as incredible as magic and you know, what I've learned about your world, unless you can prove otherwise?"
Percy's lips broke into an endearing smile, but the nervous edge was still there. Hermione noticed how his fingers fidgeted, a part of Percy's thinking process, she had learned. So she left him in silence for a few minutes to collect his words for an answer.
The first part of the plan was playing out fairly well for Percy. He had blurted out Brighton as the recommended location of their excursion only because it was the only familiar place he could think of. Also, Poseidon had visited him here. The sea god could perhaps offer assistance by keeping some of the monsters away, maybe just long enough for him to explain his pending godhood. Hermione did not question his choice, and that was that. Percy assumed it should take Hermione's mind off of things at least until they reached the beach and he could properly reveal things to her, but unsurprisingly, he was wrong. Hermione was a clever woman who does not forget her questions. It also probably did not help that he hesitated to answer. He did not like to lie to Hermione. Not when the truth was so close, so near for her to see. He strained all his nerves to find a way around lying, an answer he could later come back to and say, 'hey, by the way it's very possible for me to become an immortal being... Oh yeah it means I have to join a pantheon. Which means, leaving you forever' He could already imagine Hermione's confusion and panic. How could he tell her something like that! So he settled with...
"I'd like you to know that I never intentionally hid things from you. It seems just too... far fetched."
Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. "Well, don't you think it's about time then? I think it's quite unfair you know the most critical secret of my life, and there are still things you are hiding from me."
Percy pursed his lips, nodding his head while keeping his eyes on Hermione. He watched the curls of her hair slip out of the hold behind her ear. She is beautiful, Percy thought. Everyday since they met his gaze hardly ever parts her, he hated when she looked dejected.
Percy suddenly spoke up. "I know... I know, and I'm sorry. But give me just a little more time, please. I promise you'll know everything. Soon."
Hermione's features softened at Percy's last plea, and she slowly bobbed her head in acceptance. "Soon," she repeated.
And in mutual silence the two mulled over their own thoughts until the train arrived at their destination.
A few hours later
The couple walked down Queens Road hand in hand, a comfortable silence enveloped them. Percy was trying to find a way to broach the topic he had been hesitant to speak about all day, but as the day progressed the sun was quickly finding it's way to his itself from view. Still, he was looking around for a possible topic for conversation, and his distracted mind soon found something: giant, swirly meringue cookies. They were displayed in small buckets and on ceramic plates behind the glass window of a small vintage bakery cafe. They were not blue, but their crude shape and bigger than usual size reminded of his own mother's version of the cookies. Without realizing he did, Percy stopped in front of the display and stared at them, his mind already drifting to those moments when Sally Jackson-Blofis would open the oven and pull out a pan full of light blue meringue cookies with a kind smile gracing her lips.
Percy did not move for a good while, and Hermione began to worry. She first thought he simply wanted to get some of the meringues, but as his eyes soon lost their focus, she saw his thoughts departing from their sphere. There was a glint around the edges of his eyes, too, that Hermione could only assume as the emerging tears. When she found that Percy was taking too long to come awake, Hermione carefully placed a hand on his arm.
"Percy?"
As soon as her voice left her, Percy shivered, after a few minutes life returned to the green orbs, and Percy startled awake only to discover the distance between him and Hermione and their rather awkward stance. He hastily moved toward Hermione and grabbed her in his arms.
"I'm sorry! I, I don't -"
"What happened, Percy?" Hermione heard her own voice leave through her lips but it was suddenly cut off by Percy's persistent soft lips.
There was a moment of hesitation, but soon enough she welcomed him fully.
"This… happens sometimes. I get 'triggered,' I think, by some objects that remind me of… home."
"My mom used to bake these type cookies the only difference is they are blue." Percy's frown deepened as he said.
Hermione sensed that something sounded off about the statement. Whatever he isn't telling her was big she decided. Her fingers gingerly stroked Percy's face while he grabbed desperately onto her own. As if she was fading away before his eyes and it was all he could do to keep her with him. She decided to venture. Carefully.
"What happened?"
The question was identical to the one before, but not at the same time. Her voice left her like a breath of air, and she knew it had landed on him softly when Percy turned his sorrowful eyes toward her, revealing as much as he could without words.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Percy dipped down his head, his readable face turned gentle. Shaking his entire body as it did. He looked up with a sad smile, tragic yet beautiful.
"No one is dead, or dieing." He explained but looked away again. His grasp tightened around Hermione's hand. "Remember what I said about earlier? Let's talk about it later, I'm afraid it would ruin our perfect date."
Hermione nodded slowly. She was speechless. Percy looked so devastated and distraught, so broken. She was very curious about the secret Percy was holding on to, but she would respect his wishes. For the moment.
Suddenly, a gust of cold winter sea current hit them both and nearly smothered the gasp that inevitably escaped her upon hearing Percy's tale. As he embraced her in a shielding gesture, Percy raised his wrist with his watch.
"It's almost seven. We should probably find a place away from this blasting wind where we can have lunch. What do you think?" He glanced down at Hermione, almost nonchalantly as if he said no such things that he had just said. But Hermione saw the glint again and knew that he was nothing but nonchalant.
She nodded. "Yes, I'd like that."
They entered the nearest pub they spotted and took seats near the corner. Perhaps due to the severe wintry weather, the pub was near empty. Only a couple of others sat by the bar and murmured in what looked to be a serious conversation. A faint scent of cigar lingered, barely recognizable in the strong odor from the pub's ancient wooden interior. Percy and Hermione each ordered a burger and a grilled steak and waited in silence, she looked up at Percy, who seemed to have recovered from the event that had unfolded fifteen minutes ago, and decided to risk it. Damn her curiosity.
"There's something… I don't quite understand. If you don't mind, that is…"
Percy glanced her way, eyes a bit empty, disturbingly. "What is it?" He did not seem unhappy so that was a good start. Hermione pressed her hand on his knee as she continued, almost futilely trying to console him in whatever way.
"When we were back a New Rome you had said your mother 'once' married this vile man… You meant your father -"
"That man wasn't my father." His voice was harder than she had heard it since he was fighting Voldermort.
The sudden interruption startled her. She stared at him with widened eyes. "I'm..."
Percy shook his head apologetically. "That 'vile man' and the man my mom remarried are both my step fathers. Well, I guess the latter is, but the former isn't, at least, not anymore."
At that, Hermione's brows joined together, forming a very apparent the crease between them. "Wait, I don't understand."
"The first was someone she married that masked my Demi-god scent, the second she married for love. And of course my father is the sea..." Percy quickly supplied.
An old man wearing an apron, who clearly owned the pub, walked toward them with a plate of food interrupting their conversation. Hermione's mouth was agape even as the man began to place the plates on the table and even as he muttered 'enjoy' and walked away. Percy picked up the silverware and offered a nervous smile her way.
"Your food's going to get cold."
Cold steak was nothing new to her, so Hermione stared on. How could he just blurt out such a thing and try to move on like it was nothing? Finally, Percy sighed and replaced the silverware. He cleared his throat once and then twice.
"It's not that big of a deal. It's actually pretty common in our world - bastard kids, I mean." He paused and grimaced. "That sounded pretty awful. Sorry."
She nodded understandingly, but it still made her sad .
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