Third Person's POV.
Percy's driver didn't hesitate. He took them straight to the most discreet, luxurious hotel in the city—the kind of place you go when you need privacy, comfort, and peace. The assistant had already booked everything in advance, knowing this was an emergency. Once they entered the big, quiet suite, Percy didn't waste a moment. He bypassed the usual small talk, the staff, the room service—none of that mattered now.
"Get a doctor up here immediately," Percy said into the phone, his voice sharp with urgency. "A good one. It's important. They'll be paid well." His words cut through the stillness in the room, leaving no room for doubt. This wasn't just about fixing something; it was about saving a life—his favorite person's life.
Soon enough, the doctor arrived. He was calm, professional, and gentle. After a careful check, he gave his verdict: Gemini was not in immediate danger of physical harm. But the real problem was clear—severe shock and exhaustion. His body was drained, his mind shut tight. No food, no sleep, no acknowledgment of the tragedy he just experienced. The boy clung to Percy like a lifeline, silent and stubborn.
Percy watched him, feeling a knot tighten inside. "He needs rest," the doctor said softly, administering a mild sedative through a tiny IV. "And fluids. Dehydration is serious." Percy nodded, holding Gemini's hand tightly. He knew sleep might be the only way to loosen the grip of emotion that had chained Gemini down.
The day was long. Gemini didn't speak. He slept heavily, but when he woke, he was still silent, staring at the ceiling as if the world outside didn't exist.
The next morning, the doctor's voice was firm. "He needs to swallow this," he said, holding a small pill. Gemini refused—no words, no movement. Just that stubborn silence.
Percy's jaw clenched. He had been patient all day, but now he stood up, his face set with resolve. "Step outside, please," he told the doctor quietly.
Once alone, Percy looked at Gemini with a quiet, pleading gaze. "Bunny," he whispered, softly but firmly. "You need to take this. You're safe here with me. But your body…it might not be for long. Please, just this once. For me."
Gemini didn't answer. His eyes were distant, blank. It was like he was already lost in some dark place.
Percy's heart ached. He knew he had to do something drastic. Carefully, he picked up the pill, placed it gently in his own mouth, and took a sip of water. Then, with a steady hand, he cupped Gemini's face, leaning in close.
"Just trust me," Percy breathed, before softly feeding him the pill—through a kiss. It was rough, unexpected, but life-saving.
Gemini gagged slightly, swallowing the bitter pill. And then, the dam broke.
He exploded. "GET OFF ME!" His voice, raw and desperate, echoed through the room. "DON'T TOUCH ME! I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME ALONE! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CONTROL ME, PERCY! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! LET ME GO!"
He shouted every terrible, repressed thought—about Percy, about his mother, about everything he had buried deep inside. His voice cracked and trembled as tears spilled down his face, his body trembling with the force of the emotion he could no longer hold back.
Percy didn't flinch. He stayed steady, calm, holding his ground as the doctor hurried back in, startled by the noise.
"Wait outside again, please," Percy said softly, without taking his eyes off Gemini. "Let it all out. Yell at me. I'm here. I won't leave."
And Gemini did. He screamed about his fears—about the scholarship he was worried about losing, about failing his Nana, about the devastation of not noticing her pain, about feeling lost and broken, about being alone in the world. Tears streamed down his face as he let everything pour out, raw and unfiltered.
Finally, exhausted and trembling, Gemini collapsed into the pillows. His tears slowed, his breathing was ragged. Percy gently stood up and addressed the doctor.
"He's finished now," Percy said quietly. "He just needed to talk."
Without hesitation, Percy pulled out his black card and handed it over to the doctor. "I need a new room. A fresh clothes. Please, have them take care of everything."
They moved to a new suite—clean, untouched, peaceful. Percy moved with a quiet tenderness, almost like he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace he was trying to create. He carried Gemini gently to the bathroom and carefully helped him out of his clothes. He washed away the dried tears and sweat from Gemini's face and body, dressing him in soft cotton loungewear the hotel staff had quickly bought.
Percy treated Gemini like a priceless treasure—something fragile, something worth protecting at all costs. He fed him a small, simple meal, spooning the food into Gemini's mouth slowly, patiently. Gemini finally gave in to the exhaustion, collapsing back onto the pillows, the fight drained from him.
Percy pulled the duvet over him, staying close until Gemini drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep. He knew healing wouldn't be quick, and it wouldn't be easy. But with patience and love, they had begun.
The morning light seeped into the room the next morning. Percy woke up before Gemini, checking to see him still sleeping peacefully. A wave of relief washed over him—finally, the tension had broken. The storm inside was calming, replaced by quiet exhaustion.
He slipped out quietly to make some calls. First, he reached Ohio. She reassured him that everything at Nana's house was under control, that Nana's friends had handled the funeral arrangements. She was relieved to hear Gemini had finally let out some of his pain.
Then he called Penelope. She was concerned, of course, but grateful Percy was there now. She promised to handle any financial or legal issues that might come up, so Gemini wouldn't have to worry about that burden.
When Gemini finally opened his eyes, he looked a little better—less shadowed, more alive. He responded softly to Percy's quiet greeting.
"I'm sorry," Gemini murmured, voice thick. "For yelling at you. For acting like that. You didn't deserve that."
Percy shook his head gently. "It's okay, Bunny. Never apologize for feeling things. I just want you to be okay."
Gemini looked around the luxurious room, then back at Percy. There was only one thing he wanted now.
"Will you take me to see her?" he asked, voice barely more than a whisper.
Percy nodded without hesitation. "Yes. Right now."
They took a peaceful drive through the rolling green hills. When they reached the cemetery, Gemini moved silently, walking toward the familiar graves. His steps slowed, and he knelt down before the headstones—his parents—and Nana's fresh mound of earth.
The sight broke the fragile peace Gemini had found. He knelt down, the grief returning with full force, and he cried, telling them he missed them, apologizing to Nana for being too distracted to see her pain.
Percy stood back, giving him space, until Gemini's tears subsided. Then, Percy stepped forward, standing respectfully beside Gemini. He looked at the three graves—Gemini's entire family, all laid to rest—his eyes full of kindness and respect.
"Hello, Nana. Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rivers," Percy said softly, as if introducing himself to old friends. "My name's Percy. I've heard good things about you. I'm sure Nana will tell you about me."
Gemini looked up, surprised by Percy's openness. Percy continued, his voice steady.
"Nana? I'm sorry for coming late, but you can rest easy now. You all don't need to worry anymore. Gemini isn't alone. I will take care of him."
Gemini started to stand, ready to push Percy away—to protect himself, to keep his world small and safe. But Percy gently touched his shoulder, holding him in place.
"Don't," Percy whispered. "Don't try to push me away. Don't tell me I'm too much, or that I'll lose my career. I'm not leaving you this time."
He knelt down again, bringing himself eye-level with Gemini. His voice was firm but warm.
"I did it last time because I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was respecting your wishes and protecting your future. But I was wrong. I almost let you go through the worst moment of your life alone."
He looked into Gemini's eyes, fierce and sincere.
"You can yell at me, you can tell me to leave, or push me away. But I won't go. I love you, Bunny. Love doesn't run away when things get tough. It stays. It fights."
Percy reached out, gently wiping away a tear. "I'm here. I'm not leaving. Not now, not ever."
And Gemini, for the first time in a long while, felt the faintest flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things would be better this time.