Chapter Text
Percy can’t wait for Smelly Gabe to go away.
Not that it feels likely to happen any time soon, since he’s been around for two years already, but Percy’s still holding out hope that any day now his mom will realize what a scumbag the guy is — he's not supposed to used that word but Smelly Gabe deserves it — and kick him to the curb.
He thinks about maybe forgetting the time and staying outside until his mom comes back from work, see if Smelly Gabe can explain why he’s not home, but every other step makes him wince from the pain in his ankle and he knows deep down that making trouble right now will just end up backfiring on him later whenever his mom leaves him alone with the guy again.
Smelly Gabe had taken one look at the fridge, grabbed the leftover from yesterday's dinner that was supposed to be Percy's lunch, and then pushed him out the door with twenty bucks and a scribbled list of the snacks he wanted bought by the time his nightly poker buddies came around. That’s when Percy had tripped — he didn’t expect the strength of the push — and twisted his ankle on the way out, but who cares, right? Not Smelly Gabe, that's for sure.
He tries not to look around too much on his way to the closest supermarket, since he already knows the way from doing the same path a few times before. Besides, looking too lost when you're an eight-year-old walking alone in the Upper East Side streets is a recipe for getting bothered by ‘worried’ adults that just make him take longer to get back home by trying to ‘help’, which makes things a whole lot harder for Percy when he meets an impatient and annoyed Smelly Gabe at the end of the line.
It doesn’t take long to grab everything, the list is mostly filled with crackers, salted peanuts, cheese, salami and a six-pack of diet coke — as if it being diet makes up for everything else — and the line at the cashier is pretty small. Percy is on his way back home in no time, thinking about sneaking himself some crackers — Smelly Gabe ate his lunch, he’s hungry! — when someone grabs him by the arm and pulls him into the alley.
He yelps in fear, the grocery bags sliding off his arms and to the floor where he also ends up — ouch, that hurts his ankle even more — and doesn’t even have time to see who grabbed him when something tells him to roll out of the way now and he obeys, promptly smashing whatever crackers had survived the fall with his whole body as he moves away from the spot where there’s now a– leg? A very shiny leg that looks more like metal than a leg, really.
Percy's eyes follow the path up the leg of the person that just tried to stomp him to death with a metal leg and finds something even more scary than some weirdo who thinks it might be fun to step on random kids. There's a lady looking down at him, except not a normal one, because her whole hair is on fire! If that isn’t crazy enough, she also has fangs and glowy red eyes and wings! And she’s about to cut him to pieces with very sharp claws!
He grabs the closest grocery bag to where he fell and places it in front of himself like a shield, just in time for the fire-lady’s claws to sink into it instead of his belly. A spray of diet coke hits her right in the face, making her hiss and step back, and Percy doesn’t waste any time before throwing the six-pack at her, scrambling back to his feet and running like hell .
It’s not the first time he's seen some weird stuff like this. Just the other month there had been a big one-eyed dude staring at him through the fence during his school breaks, and he’s almost sure he saw a guy with ears as big as an elephant dragging a screaming person into a building once, but he'd never been attacked by one of them before.
He can barely see where he’s going as he runs, only thinking about getting far, far away from the fire-lady, so that's probably why he ends up colliding with someone who wouldn't get out of the way . A pair of arms comes up around him and he flinches away, fearing claws again, before realizing they're the only reason he’s still up instead of sprawled on the ground, since he apparently bumped into someone built like a brick wall.
“Careful, kiddo.” A man's voice says as the arms go away and Percy looks up, meeting a worried pair of strange eyes. “What's the rush?”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, glad the man’s not mad, and finally looks behind him now that he's been forced to stop running and can actually breathe again.
The fire-lady’s nowhere to be seen.
“Where are your parents?” The man asks and Percy looks back at him with narrowed eyes against the strange pair — he's never seen someone with two different colored eyes before — while trying to figure out if the question is because he’s one of those ‘worried’ adults or if he’s about to be the next one trying to drag Percy into an alley.
“There you are!” A woman's voice comes from behind him and Percy tries to turn back again, but there’s suddenly a hand clasping his shoulder, pulling him one step backward. “I apologize for my son, I told him not to run in the street,” she sounds annoyed, like she's told him this before, but that’s definitely not his mom's voice. “I'll make sure it doesn't happen again,” she continues, not giving the man any time to argue and tightening her hold to the point of pain as she starts trying to pull him aside.
“Wait-” Percy doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t want to make a scene but this lady’s not his mom and he’s not about to walk off with her, so he lets her pull him just off to the side enough so the path in front of him is free and wiggles out of his coat, her grip on its shoulder not enough to stop him from slipping away and running off again, this time through the closest open door.
He doesn’t check behind him as he weaves through the aisles of the flower shop, not even when someone yells at him to stop running — no thanks! —, but he soon realizes it was a very bad idea to run inside because now he’s looking at a wall filled with flower arrangements and no way out . There’s sounds of running steps behind him and he grabs a vase of flowers before turning back around, ready to throw it at the crazy woman who tried to say she’s his mom, only to spot her stopping a few feet away from him with a pained gasp — there’s something shiny sliding right through the middle of her chest — and then exploding into golden dust.
What?
“You okay over there, kid?” It’s the man from before, except there’s a big shiny sword on his hand.
A sword he'd just used to somehow turn the crazy woman — who Percy’s almost sure was actually the fire-lady — into dust.
“I- How-” Percy tries to respond but can’t get a full word out, the sound of his hummingbird heartbeat too loud and distracting in his ears.
“It's okay, the monster's gone now,” The man assures and the sword is suddenly gone and he’s raising his hands like it might make Percy feel better when he can apparently grab swords out of thin air! “Deep breaths, kiddo.”
“Dios mío, look at this mess!” a new voice makes him jump and the vase slips right out of his trembling hands, falling to pieces on the floor. “ You- out! Out of my store! Vete!”
“Lo siento,” Percy mumbles in response, recognizing the Spanish thanks to his mom and trying to quickly step around the broken glass.
“I'm very sorry, ma'am.” The man says, but instead of turning to talk to the worker, he steps closer to Percy and puts a hand out to stop him before he nearly steps on a stray piece of the vase he hadn't noticed before. “I'll cover all the damages, I promise.” The man reaches forward slowly and Percy just stares for a moment before realizing what he’s doing, but the way he saw it coming means he doesn’t try to slip out of the man's hold when he lifts Percy up from under his arms like he weighs nothing and sets him down on a safer, shard-free spot on the floor.
The woman huffs but at least looks less upset than she was a moment ago, “You better! Mocoso sin consideración, rompiendo mis floreros… ” she walks away, muttering under her breath, though Percy doesn’t quite understand most of the quick-paced Spanish.
“Don't worry about that,” The man tells him with a small smile and Percy can’t help but reply with a small, confused one of his own.
This man isn’t yelling at him for the mess or blaming him for it. He'd killed the crazy woman with a sword and called her a monster. “Who're you?” He blurts out, too curious to stay quiet.
“My name's Oliver,” Well, that explains nothing. “And what should I call you?”
“I’m Percy,” He replies before even thinking about whether he should tell Mr Oliver his name or not. “What- what was that?”
“ That, kiddo, was an Empousa.” Mr Oliver whispers like it’s a secret and Percy just stares, because that also explains nothing. “Now how about I pay for the vase and get you back to your parents?”
“You- pay?” He stares back at the broken vase, it had looked expensive when he grabbed it, and Mr Oliver still wants to pay for it even though Percy was the one who broke it? “Wait, I can-” he fishes for the change in his pocket, a few dollars he’d been left with after buying- “oh,” he stares at the coins and looks around the shop, breath picking up. “She- the groceries-” he tries to explain through hitched breaths, his sight blurring as he feels like he’s running out of air.
“Shh, it’s okay, we’ll figure it all out, alright?” Mr Oliver assures him but Percy doesn’t think it’s okay at all, not when he’ll go back home without Smelly Gabe’s things and no more money and he’ll be so mad and it’s gonna hurt so bad like it always does when Smelly Gabe gets mad at anything. “Hey, Percy, I need you to breathe kiddo,” there’s arms around him again and he flinches but then his feet are off the ground and he realizes Mr Oliver just picked him up like he’s a baby. He really tries to stop crying like one, but just ends up hiccuping into Mr Oliver’s shoulder. “Take your time, it’s alright. I’ll take care of it, okay? Don’t worry.”
The assurances make him hold his breath, because it sounds like his mom and no one else’s told him they’ll just take care of it for no reason. No one’s as nice as his mom, at least no one he’s met before, but maybe- maybe Mr Oliver isn’t lying and he’ll actually help. He did just kill the fire-lady who’d tried to kidnap him, after all. With a sword! If it hadn’t been terrifying, it would be the coolest thing he’s ever seen.
He waits for Mr Oliver to put him down when he finally manages to stop crying, but he just hands Percy a soft little scrap of fabric to wipe his face with and walks up to the store lady. Percy thinks about complaining that he can walk and he’s not a baby even if he cried like one, but he’s tired after running from the fire-lady — what even is an Empousa? — and it feels nice to be carried like his mom used to do when he was smaller, so he wiggles a little to get more comfortable and puts his arms around Mr Oliver’s neck so he can hold on better and just breathes for a bit.
Mr Oliver talks to the woman for a few minutes and pays for the vase Percy broke with a credit card before they’re out the door again. They walk a little further and Percy wonders if he should start getting worried about Mr Oliver kidnapping him, but he spots a familiar playground form the corner of his eye and soon enough Mr Oliver sets him down on a bench, kneeling in front of him and looking him over all frowny like his mom does when he gets any little scrape.
“You were running from her, weren’t you? Are you hurt?” Mr Oliver asks when he doesn’t seem to find anything wrong and Percy shakes his head in response but winces when the man’s poking reaches his ankle, “Can I take a look?”
“Wasn’t her,” Percy mumbles but nods, “tripped,” he explains when Mr Olivers looks at him in question before slipping off his shoe to look at his ankle. He pokes around a little more and Percy fidgets from the little spikes of pain.
“I can help but you’ll have to keep weight off of it for a while,” Mr Oliver warns and Percy nods again, just wanting it not to hurt anymore. He puts a hand over Percy’s ankle and mutters something that sounds like ye-lid-thi-am and then it just stops hurting, like he never even sprained it! He must look surprised because Mr Oliver chuckles when he looks up and winks at him, “just a little magic,” he explains, one finger over his mouth telling him it’s supposed to be a secret.
Percy’s good with secrets, so he nods again, eyes wide as he pokes his ankle, “you can do magic?” he asks in a whisper, since it’s a secret.
“Just a few things,” Mr Oliver replies before moving from the ground to sit next to him on the bench, “now what was it about groceries?”
“Oh,” Percy swings his legs, staring at them as they dangle off the bench. “Sme- uh, Gabe gave me a list, and I bought it all, but the fire-lady made me lose it and I can’t- can’t go back without-,” he shakes his head, he lost the change too, letting the coins fall when he was crying, how’s he going to pay-
“That’s alright, do you remember the list or do we need to find it again?” Percy reaches inside his pocket again and takes out a folded piece of paper. He knows better than to throw it away, Smelly Gabe will say he forgot something on it if he doesn’t have it when he gets back. “That’s good, so all we have to do is buy it again, right?”
“But-” Percy frowns, he doesn’t have the money.
“I’ll pay for it,” Mr Oliver tells him like it’s a normal thing to do. “Trust me, I can afford to help,” he raises a hand and Percy feels bad for flinching when all he does is ruffle his hair and stand up. “Now, piggyback or the other way?” At Percy’s confused look he adds, “I told you, no weight on the ankle for a bit.”
“Piggyback?” He picks, because it sounds like fun.
Mr Oliver crouches with his back to him in front of the bench and Percy leans forward, throwing his arms over the man’s shoulders. “Up we go,” Mr Oliver stands up and fixes up the position of his legs, “Cherry Valley is just up the street, think we can find everything there?”
“Mhm,” Percy nods, smiling a bit at the view from above.
“And why couldn't Gabe come and buy this stuff himself?” Mr Oliver asks, looking over the list as he walks.
“Busy,” he says as an excuse so he won’t say lazy instead.
“Is he your dad?” Percy must make a disgusted noise because it makes Mr Oliver laugh, “Who’s he, then?”
“Mom’s boyfriend,” he says. Mom says he’s her husband, but there wasn’t a wedding , so Percy won’t be calling him anything else.
“So we don’t like Gabe, got it,” Mr Oliver nods and Percy chuckles, agreeing with a hum. “What about your mom?”
“Mom’s the best!” He exclaims immediately to make sure it’s very clear. “She’s working,” he adds so Mr Oliver won’t be upset at her for Percy being out here alone. It’s Gabe’s fault, not mom’s.
“Do you know her phone number?” Mr Oliver asks, “Or her the one for her work?”
Oh, no, nope, he can’t tell mom! “Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, feeling bad about lying but not wanting mom to know what happened, because then she’d be mad at Smelly Gabe and he would get mad at Percy and he’ll end up hurting all over the next time his mom has a long shift. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay, I can just drop you off once we’re done,” The man assures as they walk through the door of the marketplace. “You know your address, right?”
“East 104th and 1st, Upper East Side.” Percy recites in response.
Mr Oliver nods and they get a shopping cart before moving toward the aisles with snacks, “Now, let’s get those crackers… and something for you to snack on.”
“Can I have Oreos?” Percy asks and there’s soon a package of Oreos in the cart.
Percy gets dropped off at the door of his building half an hour later after promising to keep the weight off his foot and to call the number scribbled on a different piece of paper on his pocket — along with a bag of M&Ms and a small packet of crackers just for him that he won’t let Smelly Gabe see — if he needs any help.
He probably won’t see Mr Oliver again, but the man is now at the top of Percy’s list of the nicest people he knows, right under his mom, the first name on it.