Dark Tides

It took a few moments for Percy to help Emily get back up on her feet after she'd hit the wall, sitting her down on her bed and putting the kittens back in the crate for her. The gray tabby refused to get back in the crate, so Percy let it crawl up onto his shoulder. He was still a bit disoriented from accidentally kissing Emily, but she looked like her mind had turned to liquid. He wasn't sure if it was a good or bad sign, but if anyone cared enough to ask him, he didn't mind a bit. It was a bit more quick and innocent than what he'd experienced in the past, but he would never have imagined being in a situation with Emily that resembled the sorts of situations he used to put himself in with women.

She seemed to snap out of her daze when she realized Percy was leaving, still looking frightfully embarrassed from what had happened, but Percy gave her a reassuring smile to let her know it was okay. Her shoulders loosened slightly, reaching over to pet the kitten once more before Percy sneaked out her window again, careful not to drop the delicate kitten as he climbed back down.

Percy's hand was probably big enough to hold two of the kittens at once. He was constantly scared he'd accidentally crush the baby feline. However, he stayed gentle with it, making sure it didn't fall off him as it crawled all over his head and shoulders while he walked home. Percy didn't even like cats. He hated them, actually. They always looked at him like they were plotting against his life. Yet somehow, he couldn't resist this one.

When he arrived home, his mother was gone again. At such an hour, he could only assume that someone had hired her to cleanse their home, or conduct a seance there. He believed it to be a bad idea, but his mother wasn't about to listen to him. Especially since he'd been gone for five years, and was forced to do things on her own anyways. He picked up one of the blankets off his makeshift bed on the floor, bundling it up for the kitten to sleep in. It left him with just one thin sheet separating him from the old wooden floor, but he was beyond caring at this point. He just laid on his stomach and watched as the kitten curled up in the blanket, slowly starting to nod off.

"I should probably name you," he mumbled, lightly petting the kitten with two fingers.

The kitten just blinked and stared at him as it tried to stay awake. It playful pawed at Percy's hand, gnawing on the tips of his fingers.

"So you like to bite, you little carnivore," Percy smirked as the kitten continued to nibble on him. "I can see that you're a fighter. We'll need a name that will strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. 'Fluffy' simply won't do. Or perhaps you'd like something a little bit more... important? A big name for a tiny little kitten, yeah? How about... Caesar? You know, I kind of like the sound of that. Your namesake may have come to a violent end, but until then, he was one of the biggest names in the world. He still is. Yes, Caesar is a good name."

Caesar mewed softly in response before nodding off and falling asleep. It was just then that Percy had noticed his mother standing in the doorway with an eyebrow raised, those striking blue eyes piercing right through Percy. He hadn't even heard her coming in, which was rather hard with her brightly colored clothing and all of the charms and trinkets layered on top of each other, clinking together when she walked. He'd been so distracted with talking to his kitten, he hadn't heard her coming.

"You hate cats," she said slowly.

"That's not a cat. That's Caesar," Percy said, quickly standing up to help his mother remove the bright yellow shawl she had wrapped around her and covering her head to shield her from the rain outside.

"Caesar," she repeated. "That's a good name. I'm tired. Help me get to the bed, will you, lamb? These people truly expected me to stretch my capabilities this evening. It truly is a shame that the nature of man is to take over everything in sight. Now they're looking to take over things they can't see."

Percy smiled as he took her crutch and laid it against the wall, taking her arm to help her walk to the bed. She leaned on him a bit more than usual, which worried Percy. His mother was skilled at many things, but one of her biggest skills was hiding how sick she truly was, even from her son. Percy sat at the foot of her bed as she laid back against the pillows with a soft, relieved sigh.

"You know, Percy, in a certain light, you look so much like Colt," she said, looking up at Percy.

He felt his stomach twist at the sound of his brother's name. The was his mother said it was still laced with such heartbreak that Percy felt her pain, too. It had been something he tried hard not to think about, until just months ago when he learned that Scarlett wasn't the one who killed Colt, but their own father. There was something about it that made the pain a lot worse. Percy was always the baby in the family, and naturally his older brother was mean to him growing up, but it was no secret that he looked up to his brother like a deity.

"He had your eyes," Percy shrugged. "Mine are almost black, but his practically glowed in the dark. Like your eyes."

"That's true," she said, laughing softly.

She looked like she was about to say something else, but decided against it, smiling and patting Percy's cheek lightly before bidding him good night. The next morning, she was gone again, out to do something that would inevitably worry Percy some more. Of course, with his strict new employer, he couldn't afford to go out looking for her and show up late.

As another day started, Percy and Mr. Daly were back in the dirt, pulling weeds and watering the plants, making everything look "effortlessly" pretty for a family that rarely even seemed to come out and appreciate their hard work. Mr. Daly had seemed to warm up to Percy a bit, after working with him for so many hours every day. His tone was slightly less condescending, and he actually bothered to speak with Percy.

"Are you married?" he grunted as he dug a hole to plant a new flower with delicate pink petals.

"No, sir," Percy smirked. "I have nothing to offer a woman, even if I wanted to."

"Perhaps the woman has something to offer you," Mr. Daly suggested. "My son met a woman who was so desperate for a baby, she didn't bother to look into his background before marrying him. They've got four children now."

"I can't raise children," Percy said, shaking his head. "I'd be a terrible father."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I've never known a good father," Percy shrugged. "My own father was nothing short of a scoundrel. I had no one to learn how to be a good father from."

"You're still young," Mr. Daly said as he stood and cracked his back. "You think you know things, but you really don't know anything."

He left it at that, removing his hat and bowing slightly as Gregory Harrington appeared out of nowhere, his manservant still following him around.

"Good morning, Master Harrington," Mr. Daly said politely, kicking Percy so he'd get up off the ground.

Percy didn't say anything, just nodding his head slightly. Gregory didn't seem very impressed with Percy's obvious lack of respect, but said nothing, jerking his head to gesture for Percy to follow him. Mr. Daly started to come as well, but Gregory stopped him, looking at him as if he were stupid.

"The younger one," he said. "At least this one might have the slightest idea what I want. You're far too outdated."

"Yes, of course," Mr. Daly muttered as Percy gave him an apologetic look.

He followed behind Gregory and the servant, half-listening as the man talked. Emily was right. He really was quite annoying. Percy couldn't imagine what he was like when he was trying to impress a woman.

"I've arranged to meet the Weldon girl for lunch this afternoon," he announced, just then capturing Percy's attention.

So, he was going after Emily again, even after he'd humiliated himself in front of her? He truly must have been desperate for her. Of course, he didn't say anything, just listening quietly.

"You spend enough time with the plants to know which ones are the finest and freshest," he said. "I need you to hand pick a bouquet for me to take her. Something heartfelt, that she will truly appreciate."

"Wouldn't it be more heartfelt if you were the one picking the flowers?" Percy asked.

"What did you just say to me?" Gregory asked defensively, turning to glare at Percy. "You think she'll care to ask who picked the flowers? Of course she'll assume it was me. You just do your job, and leave the rest to me."

Percy held up his hands in surrender, though he was so tempted to take the clippers in his hand and drag the blade down in a zigzag across Gregory's face and throat. He just did as he asked, clipping the most vibrant flowers while Gregory pointed out all the ones he felt Percy was missing. His job was suddenly seeming extremely unimportant next to ripping off Gregory's arm and shoving it up his rear end, especially when the rich buffoon was calling him such derogatory things. If it had been anyone else, he would have put a little bit of poison ivy into the bouquet as well, just so Gregory would be blamed for the girl's itching. But this bouquet was going to Emily, and Percy would never do something like that to her.

Rather, while Gregory's back was turned, Percy noticed a dandelion sticking out of the grass that he must have missed while he was pulling weeds. As he plucked it out of the ground, he thought of what Emily had said about dandelions the night before, which put a slight smile on his face. He tucked the dandelion into the bouquet as well, careful to hide it so Gregory wouldn't see the weed. Maybe if Emily looked at the flowers, she'd notice it and know Gregory wasn't the one who made the bouquet after all.

Percy had just secured the little yellow weed when Gregory confidently snatched the bouquet out of his hand. He just barely looked it over before deciding that it was good enough, looking Percy up and down with a judgmental look on his face.

"What's a man like you doing with flowers?" he said. "You'd probably stomp all over them with your big feet."

Percy held back a snarky comment about big feet, just pursing his lips and shrugging lightly.

"Have you always been a gardener?" Gregory asked suspiciously.

"No."

"What were you, then?"

"Nothing that matters in my work here."

"Oh, I've heard the other help talking about you," Gregory realized. "You're the one trying to desperately revive your gypsy mother, aren't you? I wouldn't bother. It truly would be a waste of money."

Percy clenched his teeth, finding it extremely hard not to snap now. Gregory stepped towards him, still wearing a suspicious glare as he examined Percy again. When he got a little too close, Percy stepped back slightly, making Gregory chuckle.

"Ah, I knew I intimidate you," he said proudly. "Most men are afraid. As they should be."

Percy was quite the opposite of afraid. He would have snapped the twit's neck in a heartbeat, but that flick of the wrist was probably enough to start a full-blown war.

"I met a pirate once, you know," Gregory announced, looking to his servant, who nodded with a look of pure respect to feed Gregory's ego some more. "The drunk fool was babbling on and on about some immortal captain."

Percy perked up slightly. That could only have been one person. Gregory, however, took that reaction the wrong way, assuming it meant Percy was impressed and wanted to hear the rest of the story, which was far from the truth.

"I put that brute in his place," Gregory boasted. "Shut him up right where he stood. Captain of the Guard thanked me personally. Who knows what damage that drunkard could have done, had I not been there!"

"What was he saying about the immortal captain?" Percy asked.

Gregory gave him a funny look, but shrugged and answered. "Nothing that could have possibly been true. He was rambling on and on about a pirate captain that was nothing less than a goddess. And yes, you did hear me correctly. A woman. Could you imagine? A woman as a pirate, let alone a captain! It's absurd."

"Don't be so sure," Percy snapped, before he could stop himself.

"I beg your pardon?" Gregory asked. "You act as if you know this myth of a woman."

Percy said nothing, but the amused look in his eyes seemed to convey a certain message to Gregory. One that made the man turn a little pale, and back off slightly. For a split second, it seemed as if Gregory had understood that Percy had no problem sleeping with himself at night with blood on his hands, and that he may possibly have had a certain background as a person who shouldn't have been messed with.

However, the unsure expression didn't last long. Just moments later, Gregory was back to his usual overconfident self, taking the bouquet and marching off with his servant, surely to go and tell the world about how he "put the oaf working in the gardens in his place". Percy didn't mind. He'd heard worse things said about him, and no one Gregory would be boasting to mattered to him. He knew Emily was smart enough not to believe a word of it.

Percy turned on his heel, extremely heated after spending a mere ten minutes with Gregory. He was clenching the clippers so tightly in his hand, the metal was slightly dented. He went back to where Mr. Daly was waiting for him, seemingly having heard everything. However, he didn't yell at Percy the way he thought the old man would. Instead, he gave Percy a sort of sad smile and patted his shoulder, taking the clippers out of his hands before Percy accidentally killed someone.