AN: Posted as a birthday fic for our dearest hero Percy (sorry that I couldn't get you any blue cake, I didn't have any food colouring).

Percy wiped his free hand on the leg of his jeans, gripping Annabeth's hand tightly with the other as they walked the streets of New York. He was sweating profusely despite the light summer breeze that would've guaranteed a pleasant walk any other day. They were almost there, almost home. Not home at Camp Half-Blood, no they'd left Camp two hours ago with Chiron's reluctant permission. Percy was going home to his mom and stepfather's apartment after months away from them, and only about one and a half of those months with his memories intact.

He was glad that Annabeth had inststed on coming along in a way. The two hadn't separated for more than absolutely necessary since they reunited with their friends in Epirus after their ordeal in Tartarus and he was anxious enough as it was even without having to part ways with his girlfriend - exceptshewasmortheyweremore'girlfriend'dosen'tsuffice - , however temporary it may be. To be honest the anxiousness made him feel a bit silly, so he welcomed Annabeth's reassuring smile as she told him about how much his mom and Paul had missed him.

They reached the door of the apartment building and Percy stopped cold when he saw the code-lock where he was supposed to enter a keycode to be let in. There was a list next to it, holding the names of the building's inhabitants. The names were right where they should be; P & S Blofis, 407, but that wasn't what troubled him. He knew that he didn't remember every single detail of his life yet, that some things, like the name of his third grade maths teacher or where the macaroni art painting he'd made his mom in kindergarten had gone, but he remembered the important stuff, like Annabeth's birthday - July 9th - and the time Grover had bowled over Nancy Bobofit and all her friends on Enchilada day at Yancy. He'd never thought he'd forget this.

"Annabeth…" he started once he felt he'd stared at the lock long enough, "I don't remember the entrance code."

If it had been anything else he knew that she would've made a clever quip and called him 'Seaweed brain', but instead she muttered some curses against Hera in Ancient Greek and stepped up next to him on the stone steps. Luckily Zeus was still in a bad mood with his wife, beacuse Annabeth wasn't struck by lightening for disrespecting a godess in such a way.

Instead of becoming a crisp she pushed in the right code slowly enough for Percy to register it properly for future references - he only just managed not to slap himself for forgetting something that seemed so obvious now that he'd been reminded. The door clicked and Percy wrenched it open before it had the time to lock again, holding it open for Annabeth before entering the building himself.

"How did you know the code?" he asked as they decidedly didn't take the elevator and instead started climbing the stairs, "Because I'm fairly sure that opening locks is a Le-" he swallowed the name, no need to bring them down, "A Hephaestus thing, not an Athena thing."

Annabeth's eyes turned suspiciously bright, but she blinked it away and said;

"Paul figured that since I visited so often I should know how to get in, in case I had any urgent news in the middle of the night."

"Ah." Was Percy's oh so clever and witty response. He was starting to feel slightly queasy in his anxiousness.

They continued up the rickety staircase in silence, getting ever closer to the fourth floor. Percy's hands grew clammy again and he hastily wiped them on his jeans.

"Percy, what are you worried about?" Annabeth asked at last, tired of the silence and of Percy acting like he was about to face a terrible beast.

"I-" he began, "I don't know really. I just…" he cut himself off with a frustrated sigh, pulling his free hand through his hair. They had come to a stop on the third floor landing, facing each other.

"It's okay to have unreasonable fears sometimes, Seaweed brain." Annabeth stated, reading him as easily as one of her Ancient Greek architecture books. "In many situations arachnophobia is a pretty unreasonable fear, and my siblings and I are supposed to be the most reasoanble kids at camp."

"Nevermind the fact that demigod fears usually aren't as unreasonable as mortals like to think." Percy said wryly as Arachne flashed through his mind. By the look on Annabeth's face it was clear that she was thinking the same thing, and Percy felt guilty for putting his foot in his mouth for the bazillionth time talking to his her, but Annabeth pushed her expression off her face and put a hand on his cheek.

"Sally missed you, Paul missed you, I missed you. The war is over, and one day we'll be alright." The 'one day' did not pass unnoticed. They both knew that they weren't alright yet, but they hoped and they wished that they would be someday.

Annabeth's grey eyes said that she knew something that he didn't, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary, so he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips in a silent thank you. Sometimes it amazed him how Annabeth always knew the exact right thing to say, but he was almost starting to get used to it after five years.

They clasped hands again and continued the short trek they had left to the fourth floor. They finally reached the right floor and walked the short distance down the ratty corridor with the ugly batik-patterned carpet until they reached apartment 407.

They stopped and Percy knocked on the door, silently praying to his dad that they were home.

The double locks clicked and the door opened, admitting Paul Blofis with his salt and pepper hair and kind eyes. He smiled at Annabeth, but then his jaw dropped when he saw Percy.

"Paul? Who is it?" came a voice from the kitchen. Paul just gaped. "Paul?" and there, from around the corner, came Sally Jackson, a half dry plate and a dish towel in hand and her silver streaked brown hair - many more streaks than she had the last time he saw her - in a ponytail.

Her hands went slack the moment she spotted him at the door, the plate falling from her hands and breaking against the wooden floor with a crash. Her eyes welled up with tears, ones she didn't even acknowledge, because she was running across the hall and soon enough her arms were around him.

His mom gripped tightly at the back of his orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt with one hand and ran a hand through his hair with the other in the same soothing gesture that she always had. Percy hugged her back just as tightly, wrapping his arms around her back, determined not to let go.

"You're home." she murmured, letting her relieved tears flow freely , creating a wet patch on his shoulder, just as his own tears were staining her t-shirt. "You're home, you're alive, you're home." she repeated, over and over again.

"I'm sorry, mom." he said.

That's when it truly hit him what he had gone through. Sure, he had been through some crazy schist on the numerous quests he'd had, but none had been anywhere near what he had gone through in the last few months. Losing and regaining his memory, fighting giants and monsters and Mother Earth and Tartarus. Gods, Tartarus. He'd lost friends to the war, just like he'd lost friends to the Titan War, but that didn't mean that Leo, Bob, Damasen and all the demi-gods that had died hurt him any less. So he he stood there and cried into his mother's arms in the doorway to her flat, and knew that she never fully would know all that he'd done, but that she'd try and that she'd piece the information he'd give her together to form a rough picture of it all, and that she'd understand what he'd never say.

When they finally drew apart after what could've been half an eternity and could've been five minutes they were both red-faced and puffy-eyed, but Percy felt a tiny bit better, like a band around his chest had loosened slightly. It was still there, and would probably not vanish completely for a very long time, but the pressure that had felt choking before was merely tight now.

Then his mom put one hand on his shoulder and opened the other one for Annabeth, who seemed to have been averting her gaze just like Paul had, but now unhesitatingly returned his mom's one-armed hug.

"I told you I'd bring him home." Annabeth said with a smile and misty eyes as the older of the two kissed her forehead and thanked her.

Then Paul decided that he wanted to greet Percy as well, as he wrapped a big arm around Percy's shoulders and welcomed him home. Then he coaxed all three of them over to the living area and had them all sit on the couch while he went to get a broom for the destroyed porcleain on the floor. Sally never let go once.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Percy in the middle with his mother and Annabeth on either side if himself, not quite knowing what to say. Then his mom spoke up, and he felt relieved, because it was the exact thing that she always said when he came home from an adventure, letting him know that some things can stay the same, even when the world around you changes so drastically you sometimes get afraid you'll have whiplash.

"Tell me everything you want to tell me." she said, not pressuring him to tell her every gruesome thing that he didn't want her to know, nor making him share the special moments that he wanted to keep to himself, but offering him an ear for every little detail that he could remember if he wanted it.

So he did. He told her everything from the beginning, about Hera and Lupa and Camp Jupiter and his quests. Always listening with rapt attention, even to the bits that he had a feeling Annabeth had already told her about. When he forgot something or went off on a rant about the wrong thing Annabeth kept him on track, added in the details and things he hadn't fully witnessed.

At one point Paul came back in, carrying a tray of coffee and Sally Jackson's Famous Homemade Blue Chocolate-Chip Cookies. They filled him in on what he'd missed and continued on.

When they reached the part with the two of them falling into Tartarus the mood became dark, and Percy was certain that the shadows he saw in Annabeth's eyes were reflected in his own, but they ploughed on with the rough details. They didn't speak about how Percy had snapped and almost drowned Akhlys in her own poison and tears, nor the details of the Seven Rivers of the Underworld or the monsters or Tartarus himself. But they spoke about Bob, Small Bob and Damasen, and they spoke about the altar of Hermes and Annabeth's message to Rachel.

By the time it had grown truly dark outside they had finished their story. They had laughed and cried a bit more, but the band around Percy's chest felt a bit lighter once more, and the unreasonable fear from that morning had evaporated.

And as Percy threw himself into a detailed explanation of New Rome and the possibility of going to college there he felt light. Because no matter how many wars he fought and friends he lost he'd always be welcome home by the end of it all.

Because even heroes need to come home, even heroes need to feel safe, and even heroes need to cry.

AN: I hope you don't think that I made Percy to weepy, but the way I see it he is a seventeen year old who literally has been to hell and back and fought two wars and worried about his own and his friends' and the world's safety for every day for months, and at some point he has to let it all out.