Mr D sat in his plastic chair, feet propped on the railing and sipping on Diet Coke. Pressure bubbled around him, pushing and prodding at my skin. I'd felt the same before, multiple times around the gods. I clenched my hands, staring at the worn door.

Open it.

Open it.

My nails dug deep, deeper. The edge of my sleeve rubbed into the webbing. Wood creaked. An arm reached past me, the scent of grapes wrapped around, and Mr D pushed the door open.

"He's not going to bite," he said.

Swallowing, I stepped into the Big House. Mr D slammed the door. Once again, decisions had been made for me. Even coming here, as much as it seemed to be up to me, wasn't. Not when Dad told me to talk to Chiron. And if it made him happy, made him look less upset –made him love me– I'd do it.

"Chiron?"

"In the living room."

The living room looked the same. Same walls, same furniture, same living stuffed leopard head on the wall. Seymour licked his lips, begging for a treat. Chiron tossed him a bit of bacon, and, while he was busy chewing, covered him with a blanket. He turned to me. I winced. He looked horrible: hair wild, uncombed, tail tangled in knots instead of in its curlers, even his shirt wasn't buttoned properly.

Clop. Clop. Clop. His hooves tapped against the floor. Calloused fingers brushed along my cheeks, slipping down to my jaw to tip my head back. "Hello, Percy." His voice was a whisper, said like a prayer.

Like he couldn't believe I stood in front of him.

"Hi."

His lips curled into a smile, albeit a tight pressed one. My eyes fluttered closed. His fingers traced the contours of my face. Chiron mapped every detail. "You disappear far too often, my girl. I may end up having to get a picture of you for missing posters."

"Don't disappear that often," I mumbled.

He chuckled and pressed his forehead against mine. "I would like to dispute that. But, as much as I'd love to talk about your disregard of curfew and camp rules in the previous years, I doubt that's why you're here. Would you like some tea?"

"Do you have that kelp one?"

"When you asked me to order that, I thought it had something to do with who your father is." –Chiron pulled down two mugs– "But this makes far more sense. Why didn't you–"

"Dad didn't want me to. He-" I swallowed and sank onto the couch. "He arranged everything for my stay on the surface, and he arranged for me to come up in the first place." A laugh fell past my lips. It hung dead in the air. "If it was up to me, I would've never left Atlantis. Maybe I'd be working in the palace or still studying. Maybe my mother would've taught me how to heal, and I'd be a healer in Shayeris."

Chiron hummed and sat a mug in front of me. Steam swirled in the chilly air. The heat seeped into my hands, into my bones, and eased some of the pain. While it wasn't the same as the version we had undersea–that one had a different type of kelp and was really more of a gelatin– it was one of the few dishes that could be mimicked.

"And what about your br–"

"Don't mention him," I snapped. Shouldn't have, if only because Chiron stared at me with sad eyes and lowered himself to the floor beside me. The only thing to do was apologize, which I did and then did again. "We... We don't know. Dad can't tell, and he couldn't even when we were younger. I asked him, believe me, that was one of the first things I did after I told my mother I knew she lied to me. And he said he had no idea. Which is fine, I mean, it's not like its as easy as it was when Heracles was an insanely buff baby. I just have Dad's hair, and Atlantean genetics work differently anyway." The magic in our veins changes things, making inheriting features so much odder. Children can be carbon copies of their mothers, with no sign of the father, even if by all means they shouldn't.

"And if we bring him through the barrier without giving him permission and he turns out to be a demigod," I said. "Then it would be seen as my dad hiding a potential weapon."

Chiron said nothing. His tail swished through the air, hitting the couch and coffee table. Swallowing, I let myself slid onto the floor. Tea sloshed from my cup, but I caught it and put it back. It was cooling down. He downed the rest of his before brushing his fingers through my hair. The gentle touch spurred me to wrap my arms around him and to press my face into his side.

Countless times I'd wanted this, and he'd offered it far more than Dad had. He'd ruffle hair, give hugs, or pats on the shoulder after a job well done. He'd protect us, give us the means to even if he couldn't. I tugged at his shirt. Chiron's my uncle, and uncles are supposed to protect you the same way your parents do.

And if I considered him as a parent, it was because of him acting the way Aunt Sally did sometimes. Those times when she fussed over me like I was her own child. Times when she ran her fingers through my hair to hush me back to sleep. Even if I couldn't trust other people–they'd never given me a reason to, beyond being friends–it was different. Chiron's not a friend. He's a mentor and a teacher and a parent. And one of things mattered a lot more to me than the others. He'd risked his life for us

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered, hand slipping to the back of my neck. "So very glad, my girl." Soft lips pressed to the crown of my head. A sigh. I huddled against him. With him, I was safe. 

Finally got a chance to work on this, and I hope you guys like it. Next chapter will probably be focusing on Kaldur, because what can I say, one of the twins is having a much better recovery than the other and the other one is a lot more fun

Anyway, leave a comment or a like and in exchange I will pat a chicken or a cat, whichever is closer (I have chickens now btw)

See yah