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We’ll Be Fine
Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;
Ah, more than share it! give me all thy grief.
Odysseus was pacing. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”
“Yes,” Perseus said quietly from where he was seated on Percy’s bed. “I swear it.”
“Gods damn it ,” Odysseus swore, pausing in the middle of the room. “A warzone. Our son was in a warzone? ”
Perseus did not reply. Instead, he put his head in his hands, defeated.
“We should’ve expected this,” Odysseus muttered, resuming his pacing. “Of course he would end up there. That’s what demigods are bound to, isn’t it? Blood and war and tragedy?”
“Some,” Perseus said. “Most.”
Odysseus practically growled. “Most. Most. ” He looked moments away from hysteria. “The Fates always need a hero, don’t they? A child to bear the mantle no one should ever have to hold.” He stopped right in front of Perseus, eyes tired but, as always, studying.
“It’s out of your control,” he said.
Perseus glanced up at him. “Yes, it is. Why?”
“It’s not any fault of yours,” Odysseus continued, sitting down beside him.
“What makes you say that?”
“You have that look in your eyes,” he said simply. “The same look you have every time you start thinking about how it’s all your fault, about how you’re a failure of a father.”
“Percy was fighting in a war, ” Perseus gritted out, temper rising. His hands subconsciously reached into his hair and tugged , hard enough that Odysseus winced slightly. “How could that not be a reflection of my failure? I’m supposed to keep him safe, I’m supposed to protect him—”
“And you are, ” Odysseus cut in. “You are protecting him, Περσέα, αγαπημένε μου φίλε. Protector of his life, remember?”
“That’s not what Perseus means.”
“Does it look like I care?”
Perseus watched him for a couple moments. He relented with a sigh, hands falling into his lap as he turned to stare at the floor. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Good,” Odysseus reached for his hands, holding them far more gently than Perseus deserved. When Perseus wouldn’t look at him, Odysseus gently tilted his head in his direction.
“We’ll be there with him,” Odysseus reassured. “Every step of the way.”
Perseus’ voice was barely above a whisper. “What if that isn’t enough?”
“We’ll make sure it is. We’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.”
Perseus was quiet for a bit before moving closer and hugging Odysseus yet again. Odysseus let it happen, returning it with the slightest bit of hesitance. They sat in pure silence for a couple moments. The only noise in the room was Percy’s breathing. Grover still hadn’t returned yet.
“We changed them for a reason,” Odysseus said quietly. Perseus just held him closer. “The definitions of our names.”
“Does it even matter?” He muttered. “They still mean what they mean, Οδυσσέα. Destroyer of her life, he who hates.”
Odysseus does not flinch away, nor does hurt flash in his eyes as Perseus was afraid they would when he realized what he’d said.
It is silent for a couple moments before Perseus sighs, burying his face in Odysseus’ hair. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to… say it like that.”
“Don’t apologize. I know what you meant,” Odysseus assured, pressing closer.
“I’m still sorry,” Perseus replied.
Odysseus hummed. “Then you are,” he said, lacing one of his hands with Perseus’, “but I’ve already forgiven you, even if there was no need.”
Once again, the conversation cut off. They’d likely talk about this more another night, when they’d had time to process, but for now, there was no need. Instead, they took comfort in each other’s presence and waited for time to pass.
“Thank you,” Perseus muttered into his hair about twenty minutes later. “Thank you, φως μου.”
Odysseus smiled. “Anytime, αγαπητέ μου.”