Chapter Text
Well this was something you weren't expecting to wake up to at 4 in the morning. Messenger of the Olympians, Hermes himself, was there at your door, cradling what seemed to be a…baby?
He held it out, and in your half-asleep mind you subconsciously took it in your arms, not fully processing anything that he was saying to you. He spoke in an urgent manner, so clearly whatever he was talking about was important enough to stress about, but since you've just woken up, you could only catch a few words here and there.
...Something to do with witches or a curse or somethin’? A traitor maybe? You weren’t sure, you weren’t really listening.
Along with the baby, he held, what you recognised as, Poseidon's trident. At the end of it, hung a basket that held a few necessities that was apparently supposed help make your job slightly easier, such as a few clothes and toys. Once he finished his speech on your responsibilities, he handed you the trident (Which nearly sent you falling onto the floor from its sheer weight) and a card, before he left with a bow. If it weren’t for the fact that you now cradled a baby god in your arms you would’ve thought it to be a dream.
Still tired from only getting a few hours of sleep, you plopped yourself on the couch, momentarily forgetting about the baby in your arms to focus your one functioning brain cell into reading the card.
And oh boy were you unprepared.
On the front, was a number, presumably Herme’s or some other god’s in case of emergency, and on the back was a vague description of what you should and shouldn't do for Poseidon. It was then that it click that you were expected to look after the god of the sea himself while in this temporary state.
Now it’s not like you were unfamiliar with the gods, you could go as far to say that you were well acquainted with a few. But it’s not like you've interacted with any of them enough to be in charge of one, much less Poseidon, whom you’ve only ever seen from time to time on the rare occasion he skewered some douchebag on the beach. Not to mention from what you've experienced, the gods couldn't care less about mortals, in fact most hated them, so you were at a loss as to why you were given this responsibility.
You have no clue how to take care of a baby, much less a baby god. Speaking of..
The little man's been awfully quiet through your internal panic. Maybe he’s asleep?
You turn to look at the baby. Who in turn, stares back at you with the most deadpan expression a baby can muster. Almost as if he'd been waiting for you to notice his presence.
The heck was he giving you that look for? Oh wait it’s still morning, even if it is way too early to be eating breakfast, maybe you should make something for him.
You make your way to the kitchen, baby still in hand, only to realise your severe lack of food. Sure, there were a couple things you could whip up to eat, but you don't exactly have the energy to put in the effort to make an elaborate meal this early in the morning. You’re long overdue for grocery shopping anyway, so you make note to buy something more suitable for babies the next time you go.
…Or maybe you should pick up something suitable for a god?
You pick up a random ramen packet, and jokingly hold it in front of Poseidon, “Baby want ramen-?”
He slaps it out of your hand before you could finish.
“Dude chill I was only kidding” you huff. Maybe you shouldn’t be speaking so casually, especially when addressing Poseidon, but it’s not like he’s in any state to do anything about it so who cares. You certainly don’t, especially not this early in the morning.
Ah well, it looks like you’re gonna have to make something suitable for a baby that can also satisfy a god. Surely it can’t be that hard, you’ll get this out of the way then get those few precious hours of sleep.
How hard can taking care of a baby be anyway? He’s conscious of his state, so that makes it twice as easy, right? That’s like PEMDAS or some shit.
Grocery shopping wasn't as easy as you thought it’d be. Turns out, Poseidon was extremely picky, and whatever you suggested to him was either met with a swift backhand or an offended scoff. At this point generic baby food wasn’t going to cut it, so onward you push the kart into another aisle.
It’s the candy aisle. Oh, in that case you’ll just skip onto the next one. Sure, you like your sweets from time to time, but it’s not like you’re craving any of it right now.
As you turn to skip the aisle, the little sea tyrant finally speaks up from his seat atop the cart.
“Wait.” He says; though it was quiet you still heard him, and stopped mid-turn. He’s clearly singling out one item in particular, and out of pure curiosity you follow his line of sight.
…Marshmallows?
Yeah, no, that’s not happening. The last thing you need is some narcissistic baby god high on sugar. And so, once again, you turn to leave.
Poseidon, seemingly shocked at your disobedience, looks back at you. “Are you deaf? I told you to wait”
A few passerbyers snicker at this. How cute, he thinks he has influence on you. You pretend not to hear him, and make your way out.
He tries again “Stop moving! I won't repeat myself again, I want those marshmallows”
Did someone say something?
“You stupid, ignorant mortal! Are you so incompetent that you cant even follow simple orders?”
Whatever, cry about it.
Just as you were rounding the corner, Poseidon realises that for once in his life he won’t be getting his way. Perhaps it was a mistake to task her of all people.
He breaks down in quiet sobs, causing heads to turn your way and mutter to themselves in concern. Now this was the last thing you’d expect from a tyrant like Poseidon, sure he was a baby now, and is acting like one, but you’d think he’d have more decency than this. Honestly, resorting to tears won’t do anything to sway you, so he’s really just making things harder for himself.
You boredly look down at his pathetic display. He’s hunched over in his goofy shark onesie, gripping the handle and trying to hold back from outwardly crying, but his hiccups aren’t doing anything for his efforts.
Oh shit, was he genuinely upset? Suddenly you feel a wave of embarrassment, both for him, and for yourself since you knew you had no other choice but to cave in. Not to mention the other customers' stares were starting to get to you.
You say with an aggravated sigh, “Fine, I’ll get your stupid marshmallows,” trying to brush off the judgemental glances from the other customers. You were way too tired for this. He doesn’t stop crying immediately, like you expected, but he does quiet down.
You grab the marshmallows, holding it in front of Poseidon for him to take rather than dropping it in the cart. You knew giving into a child’s tantrum was almost always a bad idea, but you were hoping that the little tyrant would be more compromisable than an actual human baby.
He lifts his head, staring for a moment at the packet as if trying to comprehend what he was seeing. After another moment, he takes hold of the bag with both arms, and hugs it to his chest. He makes an effort not to look in your general direction, still occasionally hiccuping and sniffling.
How he found the time to visit the mortal realm and try out marshmallows before whatever caused him to go baby mode, you had no idea. This knowledge could be of use to you in the future though, perhaps you’ll be able to bargain with ‘em if he likes them enough.
The two of you eventually made it back to the car, groceries in the trunk with Poseidon in the back seat. You take your keys out, just about done with the day even if it just started. The little tyrant behind you never let go of the bag (which made it a pain to scan) he'd trying to open it, but his baby hands aren't doing anything to help with that.
You just stare at the sad scene through the rear view mirror. Maybe he’ll ask for help? Yeah, not likely. It wouldn't hurt to watch him struggle for a bit though.
He looks up once he realises the car hasn’t started moving and once again makes eye contact with you. Though visibly irritated, he refuses to acknowledge his failure, and promptly returns to fumbling with the bag. And after a few more tries, he drops it in his frustration. Surely he'll ask for help now.
You struggle to contain your smile as he tries desperately to get it back, neglecting the fact that he could just unbuckle himself from his seat. He' leaned forward, arms out as if expecting the bag to leap back into his arms, but he soon realises no matter how much he struggles, he can't get it on his own. This seems like a good time to interject.
"Hey, need any he-"
“Human, hand me my trident.”
“Sorry, what?” What the heck was he goin’ on about? And no, you weren’t going to tell him you left his trident in your closet back at home.
“My trident,” he mumbles his next words, ” I need it”
Did he plan on forking the bag just to pick them back up? Cause that sounds unnecessarily complicated. “Cause you dropped your marshmallows right? Ya know you can just ask me to get them for you”
He visibly cringed at this, almost as if he were disgusted at the thought of asking a human like yourself for help. You know damn well of his state, why can’t you just be a good subservient mortal?
There’s a heavy silence between you two, though you should probably start heading home, neither of you make a move.
At the realisation that you won’t help him unless he asks for it, Poseidon feels himself starting to tear up again. Curse his stupid infant psyche. In an effort to spare himself from further embarrassment he curls into a ball as much as he can to shield his face.
Despite hearing the car’s engine he stays in the position.
Once you reached the house you opened the door for Poseidon, and went to grab the groceries, opting to carry everything at once despite the weight. You desperately wanted to avoid making multiple trips, your blood circulation be damned.
In the short hour you took to get ready, you had learned that Poseidon was the independent type. Despite his size now, he insisted on doing things his own way, perhaps hoping it would save what little dignity he had left.
Unfortunately, that meant you had to watch him struggle with opening the door whilst you stood idly by as you lost all feeling in your arms.
Only a few seconds had passed, and it already felt like you’d been standing for hours. His little hands couldn’t even reach the handle, much less pry the door open.
This was actually torture. Unless you wanted to be stranded outside you’d have to intervene.
As discreetly as you could with all the plastic bags, you load all the groceries onto one hand, using your free one to gently pull at the handle. Poseidon’s concentration on pulling the door open made it easier for you to help.
Once he realised it was actually opening he turned to look up at you, almost as if he were surprised he actually managed to do it 'on his own'. Too bad you weren’t in the mood to give him some false praise, you rushed past him to drop off the weight before your arms gave out, nearly tripping over him in the process. Immediately you got to work, eager to catch up on some lost sleep.
To your surprise, as you were putting the food in their respective places, the little sea tyrant waddled over next to you in the kitchen. Oh, right, he was probably looking for those marshmallows. You managed to nab them at a red light while he was curled into a ball.
Without giving it much thought, you handed him the bag, mumbling a ‘here ya go’ with the gesture. And just as you predicted, he took off with it.
In the middle of restocking your lower cabinet, Poseidon once again appeared at your side. This time he’s holding a small crate of blueberries.
Not in the mood for marshmallows it seems. “Go ahead, you can eat some-”
“Where do these go?”
Oh.
A little taken aback by his response, you wordlessly point towards the open refrigerator. He simply turns to where you pointed, and goes to put them away. Did he actually want to help you..?
With this thought in mind, you grabbed the step stool, using it to put away a few spices so as to not make it obvious that you might’ve caught on to his little gesture; then went back to the cabinet, leaving the step stool for him to use in case he wanted to reach the other bags of groceries.
Low and behold, he used it. Each time he did he returned to you with a new item and held it in front of you to get your attention. His way of asking where to put it you supposed. You eventually got into a little routine.
He brought you a condiment bottle.
That one goes in the refrigerator door.
Frozen ground beef.
Leave that one out, I’ll be using it later.
A pack of oreos that you bought on impulse because they were on sale.
I’ll take those
Before you knew it, you both were finished. The process went faster than it would’ve been if you had been on your own. Poseidon going out of his way to help you? Sure, it was a bit suspicious, but you weren’t going to complain.
You shuffled over to your couch, and fell face first onto it, oreos in hand. Finally some time to relax. Perhaps you can take a quick nap, catch up on a bit of rest.
After indulging yourself in some oreos of course.
Before you could even open the box, The faint pitter patter of little footsteps caught your attention. You snickered to yourself when you saw him. It was kind of funny watching him waddle. His little legs could only get him so far before he exhausted himself.
And it seems he reached his limit, planting face first on the floor as he lost his balance.
You stared wide-eyed for a sec before immediately looking away and pretending you didn't see anything. If there was anything you knew about Poseidon, it was that he was prideful. Acknowledging that embarrassing display, especially after the last few, wouldn’t do any good for you.
So you waited a moment….then turned to look at him as if you had just realised he was there.
He was still face planted on the floor. You could hear a couple sniffs, as if he were once again, on the verge of crying.
Yeah…you really didn’t wanna deal with this. You just sat down and you are way too comfortable to get up from your spot.
He’s crying.
Now you had two options at this point, either calm him down somehow (maybe giving him his marshmallows would help), or you could eat those succulent oreos that you’ve been craving.
Choices..choices…
As quietly as you could, (which wasn’t very quiet since oreo packets are louder than gunshots), you took an oreo, and popped it into your mouth. Food helps deescalate tense situations, surely that applies to the one you found yourself in. You had no idea how to go about comforting a baby, much less a god. You took painfully slow bites. Hopefully Poseidon couldn’t hear your crunching over the sound of his crying…
…Which showed no signs of stopping unfortunately
“Dammit..” you mumbled. He definitely wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon, so you might as well get this over with, even if his sad display made you cringe a little inside.
Setting your beloved oreos aside, you scooped up the little god, who had been previously cradling his face, and is now burying it into your chest. Still sobbing, albeit quieter.
You patted his back “There there..you’ll be alright.” You tilt you heard to get a good look at the damage, but he shifts away from you. “Come on, lemme see how bad it is”
He doesn’t move
“I can’t make it better if I don’t know where you’re hurt”
Reluctantly, he looks up at you, face stained with tears and slightly red. An absolute sniffling mess.
You could work with this. You don't know much about taking care of children, but you knew distracting them from any injury usually worked out pretty well. Now to put your acting and improv skills to the test. ”Pfft, that’s it? This’ll be easy to fix, hold still.” You place your hand that was patting his back, onto his face, covering it entirely. Off to a strange start, you had no idea where you were going from here. “Uh…by the power invested in me given to all nannies and babysitter alike--”
“Mortals don’t have any power,” said Poseidon, muffled by the hand engulfing his whole face.
“Maybe not, but nannies and babysitters are an exception.” You retort. “How else are they supposed to deal with bratty kids when they get themselves hurt?” You say mostly to yourself.
“That doesn’t make any sense”
“Do you want the pain to go away or not?”
He huffs, but doesn’t say anything, so you continue.
“As I was saying…by the power invested in me yadda yadda, I vanquish the pain from your face!” With the same hand that covered his face, you ruffle his hair and poke his nose. Again, complete improv on your part, but ruffling his hair was really just to wipe off the tears and whatever else from your hand. Hopefully it was sporadic enough to distract the little tyrant.
“Feel any better?”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “No, not in the slightest. What was that?”
A good question that not even you knew the answer to. At least you tried. ”Huh, that’s strange, that usually works on any and all kinds of pain ya know.”
“Maybe, it’s because you don't actually have any powers.”
“Maybe” You mimicked, “it’s because you’re a god. I mean it makes sense to me, my powers won’t work on you no matter how you look, you’re obviously too strong to be affected by my mortal magic”
Said god stilled at this, seemingly contemplating on the logistics of your claim.
You decide to speak up before he could retort “Not that a mighty god such as yourself would need my help anyway. I’d imagine a simple face-plant is not enough to take out a such a powerful god– ahem, such as yourself”
He hiccups, going back to hiding his face, and mutters a low “obviously…You were foolish to think there was anything you could do to help a god”
You let out a deep sigh. At least he’s not crying anymore. “Right, how stupid of me to try to provide comfort to an actual baby”
“Don’t call me that”
“Alright, fine then…Po”
“Stop”
“How ‘bout I call ya Posi?”
“How about you shut up”
“Sure thing, ‘Sidon”
“I regret having you as my babysitter”
“Yeah? Well like it or not, you chose this. You’re stuck with me and I'm stuck with you.”
You both end up arguing about nicknames, oreos and face-plant long forgotten.