(A/N: I binge-wrote this in 3 nights after my brain decided to once again latch onto a brotp that has LITERALLY UNDER TWO MINUTES OF CANON INTERACTION,,,, please be gentle)

(A/N #2: also yes I am aware there are some major plot holes such as "where the heck is Molly's sister" and I will address those once jelloapocalpyse gives us more information. until then this is all you get)

"Excuse me, but I will be taking legal custody of your daughter."

"What?"

"She will be coming to live with me."

"Oh, is that what the judge man meant with all those fancy words? Okay! Have fun, Molly!"

"...yeah, I will."

The trial and following responses of the involved parties would've been comical, had they not been so sad.

Of course, Percival was more than relieved things went off without a hitch. After months of talking things over with Molly herself, months more of filling out paperwork and having supervised meetings, and months further still of trials, witnesses and testimony, Percival King was finally granted legal custody of the now 13-year-old Molly Blynndeff.

It was strange, of course. The justice-loving, law-abiding cop had known it would be from the start. To remove any child from their original home was a solemnizing task, even when it was for the best, and Percival wasn't entirely foreign to cases where children had asked, even pleaded to stay in their current situation despite the awful circumstances they endured. If other family wasn't around to take the parents' place, it usually made things even worse.

Molly wasn't like that. When she'd first been approached with the subject— a very gentle, hypothetical situation which she was free to reject immediately— her eyes had grown strangely contemplative, and she'd mulled over the possibility for over a month before getting back to Percival on the matter. When she did, it had been done through a letter so neat and formal in correspondence, the policewoman might've thought she'd written it herself. In a strange way, it was even more heartbreaking to see a child so fully aware of their surroundings that they were unfettered by strong emotional ties to the people that mistreated them.

That was the first thing that was strange. The second was, perhaps, the fact that Percival's instincts had so quickly informed her that she would be willing to take on a guardian role, should the child ever actually wish it.

It wasn't that she'd never been interested in children before— in fact, she was always quite fond of the studies of child development, and considered herself quite competent when dealing with child witnesses. She had a small row of parenting books on her bookshelf, mostly for research, and she was always happy to volunteer as a friendly police representative on the campuses of schools who were low on demonstrations for career week. In other words, interactions with children, or even thoughts of potentially raising them, were perfectly pleasant.

The strange part came after the trial actually ended— when all the planning and preparing and negotiating had finally come to fruition, and the final papers were signed.

And it suddenly hit Percival like a truck that this was real.

The little girl who bowed her head meekly and tried not to show too much distress at the horribly ignorant words of her father, was coming home to live with her. In her little house, depending on her, not only for income, but for an emotional support that had been absent from her life for over two years.

Percy was frightened at how much she was frightened.

"You've already seen it, and your things have been unpacked, but… do you need anything else?"

"No… I'm good."

"Then… welcome to your new room, I suppose."

"...Thanks."

Molly wouldn't lie and say the first few days weren't unexpectedly rough.

School was probably the most normal part of her day, except when her friends kept nagging about how life was now that things were "different." Well— perhaps "nagging" was a bit harsh. They meant well; they only wanted to ask.

The thing was, Molly didn't like to answer.

She didn't like being reminded of how foreign it felt, waking up in a different bed in a room that was decorated like hers but wasn't really hers. The self-consciousness of doing something as simple as getting dressed and walking down the stairs, as if she could somehow be doing something wrong.

She didn't like talking about how awkward it was, trying to make small talk with a person who was technically her mom but wasn't really her mom. Not to mention the weirdness of eating plain bread and water and wondering if she was allowed to ask for something else.

She didn't like remembering how much she missed her family. Not just her real mom, who had passed away years ago and still felt very much present when Molly looked in the mirror and saw her own reflection. Her dad and sister too, who… well. She wanted to say that they loved her. She hoped that they loved her, and were just unable to express it under their own layers of grieving and coping mechanisms. But whether they loved her or not, she loved them. And she couldn't help but miss their presence.

So when asked how it was now that things were "different," Molly plastered on a polite sort of smile and said she was getting used to it. Yes, of course it was different, but she'd grow into her new home. It wasn't as if she was forbidden from seeing her family, after all; since the charges were neglect and not abuse, she was permitted to visit every once and a while. It wasn't as dramatic as the movies made out, she always said.

She just hoped that all the words she spoke turned out to be true.

"Be home by 8:00, understood?"

"Yes, Percy."

"And call me when you're on your way."

"Yes, Percy."

"And don't do anything dangerous! You know how former criminals can be!"

"Yes, Percy! I'll be fine!"

Seeing Giovanni again was one of the biggest reliefs Molly had felt in years.

It was actually quite funny, the path that had winded up in Giovanni being able to interact with Molly without winding up in chains. The fact he'd never committed any serious crimes helped, of course, but the overall domino-effect of events was quite comical to think about. It'd make for a good story, maybe for a homework assignment or something in the future.

For now, Molly was just happy to be going to the mall with a familiar face.

"How ya doin', Bear Trap?"

Molly smiled down at the man who cheerfully carried her on his shoulders, hungrily eyeing anything shiny and in a display case. He wouldn't steal anything anymore, though… probably.

"Pretty good. I'm getting enough sleep now."

The man smiled big in response. "Good! I'm glad to hear my minion is being taken care of. Say, are you hungry yet? Your old pal Giovanni Potage could whip us up some lunch in a minute flat."

Molly giggled at the overdramatic way her "boss" still delivered everything. It was comforting that at least he hadn't changed. "I think I'm fine for now."

"What, is my lavacid soup not good enough for you?" Giovanni gasped in mock-offense. "I suppose you only eat good guy food now, is that it? Don't want to eat something offered to you by a criminal?"

Oblivious as he often was, Giovanni must've noticed Molly's face darken at his jests, because he quickly changed his tone.

"Hey, hey, I was just joking. You, uh…" He hesitated, shifting the small girl's weight across his shoulders. "Really, are you doing okay, Bear Trap?"

Molly glanced away, grateful that the other couldn't see her face. Her tone was carefully guarded, but the heaviness she felt leaked through her voice. "Actually… can I talk to you for a minute? Outside?"

Molly and Giovanni sit at the ledge of a fountain just outside the mall. It's quieter than usual, which is good for Molly. Tears prick at her eyes while she casts a nervous glance at her reflection in the water. Giovanni lays a comforting hand on her back and pets her like a baby kitten.

"So what's been eatin' ya?" Giovanni's voice was soothing and gentle, in a way that perhaps most people wouldn't think him capable of just by a look.

Molly let out a heavy sigh.

"It's just… I guess, for some reason, I thought that I would be used to everything by now." She frowned and counted out the differences on her fingers. "Living in a new house, having a new schedule, not seeing my family every day…"

Giovanni nodded silently, still stroking Molly's back.

"And then there's Percy…" She took a deep breath in and exhaled, the way Sylvester had taught her. Not to activate her Epithet, but simply to change out the oxygen in her lungs. "I know she sacrificed a lot to be able to make this happen, and I'm really grateful, but… it's just not the same, I guess. I mean, of course it isn't— it'd be really bad if it was the same as with Dad— but…"

Giovanni waited for Molly to continue, but when she didn't, he nodded his head gently.

"She can't be the same as your mom either, huh?"

"No, no, it's not that!" Molly stammered, then paused. "W-well… I guess, it sort of is that? But it's not like I expect her to be or anything! I mean, of course nobody can really replace someone you've lost. A-and I wouldn't want her to! I guess, it's just…" She hesitated again, this time moving to stroke the fur of her bear hoodie out of nerves before continuing.

"Percy… doesn't really feel like a mom? I mean, maybe I'm biased because I've only ever had one, but… well, I dunno, I've still met my friend's moms and stuff, and they're always… mom-ish? If that makes sense?" She clutched her hoodie tighter. "My mom… was always spending time with me. She made it a big point to have game nights with the whole family, and I remember thinking my dad was really cool back then for wanting to play with us."

Her voice hitched when she mentioned her dad, and Giovanni's grip tightened on her shoulder. Molly took a second before continuing. A wobbly smile formed as she continued to talk.

"She also helped me out a lot with my homework, even when I didn't really need it, I think just because she liked spending time with me. She taught me how to make chocolate-chip cookies, and always supported my hobbies, and she was just… really nice." Molly wiped a tear out of her eye, grateful for the general lack of people but prepared to silence herself the moment she lost control of her already-wavering voice.

"And," she added quickly, "it's not like Percy doesn't do all that stuff! Well, except for the chocolate-chip cookies. I don't think she knows how to make any kinds of cookies."

That comment earned a smirk from Giovanni, who knew as well as Molly the strange eating habits of the policewoman.

"But…" Molly continued, "It doesn't feel the same. With Mom, it was just really natural, I guess? She always knew just what to say when I was sad, or what to buy me on my birthday without asking. People commented all the time on how much we looked alike, not that looks really matter, but she was always super proud of that and would squish my face and tell me not to grow old like her. Even though she wasn't that old at all."

She paused to take a long moment, stalling the tightness in her chest that she could feel was going to burst out at any minute. "W-with Percy, though," she forced, "it's almost like… she's just following instructions from a book. Which would fit her really well, actually, but… either way, I-I'm pretty sure she's just acting on stuff that she's read for what to say or do in any given situation? Like she doesn't really know how to be a parent. W-which I don't blame her for, it just… feels unnatural? It kinda feels like i-if Dad had a-actually tried after—"

At that moment, a colored bubble suddenly formed around Molly and Giovanni as Molly activated her Epithet and threw herself against the chest of the taller man. She hated the sound of her own wailing, but she was thankful to know nobody else could hear. Giovanni's hands pressed gently against her back, holding her close in a protective way that by this point had become a familiar comfort. He mumbled something, but Molly couldn't hear over the sound of her own voice, which was much less comforting for the normally-quiet girl.

Worse than that, it took about ten whole minutes for the crying fit to subside, after which Molly slowly released her clutch-grip from Giovanni to wipe her eyes and remind herself silently not to apologize.

"You know what I think?" he finally asked. Molly just shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to risk turning into a blubbering mess again from trying to speak.

"I think first of all, you're probably right." He flashed a grin. "If I know one thing about Percy, it's that she likes her rulebooks. So you can bet she's following any 'rules' she's learned to a T." Then his grin faded into a subtler, much more sincere smile. "But you know what else I think?"

Molly shook her head again.

"I think that just proves how much she loves you."

Here, Molly's expression shifted into one of extreme discomfort as she waved off his claim with her hands.

"Ohh, n-no, no, no. I don't think— I mean, I don't want to assume—" She coughed. "I wouldn't really use the word 'love.' Percy's just a really nice woman, who wants to help whenever she sees someone in trouble, and—"

"Kid, have you seen the way she looks at you?" Giovanni interrupted. For some reason, that statement alone made the inside of Molly's chest freeze. "Of course she's reading rulebooks. She literally doesn't know what to do with herself. I'm not sure how she was raised as a child, or anything like that, but I'm pretty sure Miss Woman In Blue isn't used to feeling emotions other than 'justice.'"

Normally, a quip like that would make Molly laugh. But at the moment, she sat frigid still while Giovanni continued.

"And then you come along, and— you realize you're basically impossible not to love, right, Bear Trap?— and you're in this bad situation, and she thinks, 'yeah, maybe I could help this kid.' But then she spends more time with you, and suddenly she's not just in it for the justice anymore, and whether she realizes it or not, by now she's panicking, 'oh no! I have to do this right! I have to follow the rules or risk ruining an innocent child who's making me have EMOTIONS!'"

This time, Giovanni's high-pitched and chronically inaccurate mimic of Percy got at least a chuckle out of the little girl.

"Listen," he continued, his tone back to being serious. "I think you should talk to her about what you've been feeling. Communication is important, y'know? But whether or not you do, at least realize that she isn't just 'punching in her parent card' like a certain someone I'm still itching to slug with my Soul-Slugger Doombat. That offer is still totally open, by the way. But that aside, everything the police lady does, she's doing 'cuz she loves you."

Molly swallowed hard and forced herself to nod, rather than immediately fight the situation, as she felt inclined to do. She could think on Giovanni's words later, maybe talk them over with Sylvie. For now, she just wanted to show her gratitude.

"Thanks," she mumbled through a hoarse voice. "For hanging out with me, and… talking with me."

Giovanni smiled and patted Molly's hair. "Of course! I have to take care of my minions!"

Molly smiled back, allowing herself to simply be happy in the moment. Giovanni was one of the best things of her life, by a long shot.

In a weird way, she was glad she'd gotten locked in that museum so many months ago.

"Molly, I have read that distressed adolescents sometimes hide their grades from their caretakers to avoid punishment or feelings of guilt."

"Oh… um, you don't really need to worry about that, my grades are pretty good…"

"Of course. I'm aware. I just want you to know that if you ever need assistance, I am here for you."

"Yeah… thanks."

Percy watched as Molly walked out, not even noticing the tension in her shoulders until the little girl shut the door behind her. She hadn't made the conscious decision to keep her "proper working posture" active while Molly was around, but her back had been killing her at night— in the figurative sense, of course. Inanimate body parts could not kill their owners except in rare cases of uncontrollable epithets.

As she moved to clean up the few dishes that were left over from the morning's breakfast (curiously enough, Percy had offered Molly a slice of butter for her water, yet Molly had politely refused despite her usual requests for unhealthy treats), Percy cast a nervous glance at the parenting guidebooks which now lined almost three rows on her shelves. She was pretty sure Molly had noticed them— not that she was trying to keep them a secret— but Percy was growing unsure sure about the way in which she'd been conveying important information. Typically, she read two chapters of each book after sending Molly to bed, and then informed her of anything she'd gleaned in the morning before school.

And yet, Molly always seemed… unsure. Annoyed, perhaps? She was a very self-reliant child; she'd had to be to survive in her old living situation. Perhaps Percy should lay off a bit on the daily encouragement in case she was being seen as patronizing— no, but what she feared most was becoming like the excuse of a father that had left his daughters to look after themselves. At least their counseling had been going well, from what Percy heard; that was a slight relief off her aching shoulders.

"Ow!"

Percy blinked with surprise and quickly shut off the tap, realizing that she'd turned on the water far too hot for her own hands to handle. She frowned as she quickly moved to retrieve some ice from the fridge: she'd noticed herself mentally slipping a lot lately. While she was aware that the acquisition of a child tended to come with a plethora of side-effects, such lapses seemed more befitting to a woman who had actually gone through the physical labor of pregnancy than one who had simply adopted a child through means of the law. Molly wasn't even a difficult kid. In fact, she was a great kid: she did all her chores without complaining, seldom made requests (and only insisted when such requests involved Giovanni), regularly thanked Percy for everything she provided, seemed interested in her caretaker's line of work, acted kind and polite to all authorities, was always eager to learn…

CRASH!

Percy jolted as a plate slipped from her wet hands, and flinched as it split cleanly in half against the bottom of the sink. There it was again, the clumsiness that was so ill-fitting of a cop of her nature. She tried her best not to berate herself for making occasional mistakes, knowing it was only an unavoidable part of being human, but the sheer number of times she'd slipped up on the job in recent months was honestly taking a toll on her pride.

She sighed and carefully dropped the broken plate halves into the trash, thankful that at least the mess was confined to the sink and she didn't have to worry about dangerous slivers of china lying on the floor. She had to be off to work soon; she didn't have time to sweep the whole kitchen.

It was strange, as well, that Molly left for school before Percy left for work. She trusted the child as long as she had a phone to call for help, but it was a fair walk, and Molly didn't seem the type to refuse a ride in favor of outside air. Still, she'd heavily insisted against Percy driving her, and as there seemed no apparent harm in her walking, Percy had acquiesced. But it did make her wonder.

It occurred to her, suddenly, that Molly might've been embarrassed at the thought of showing up to school in a police car every day.

Or maybe she was just embarrassed because of her.

An unfamiliar and very unpleasant feeling suddenly rose up in Percy's chest, making it feel as if her heart was somersaulting in place and then sinking down to her stomach, although of course she knew that to be physically impossible. Her hand started to reach for the laptop which sat on the counter nearby, but then she stopped. No time to look up possible physical illnesses now; she had to finish the dishes in time to be off to the station. The last time she'd showed up to work late, she'd owed Maril a whole five dollars.

She would worry about the strange sensations— and her performance as a guardian— later on.

Flames burn all around as Molly screams helplessly at her own blurred vision of crumbling walls and firemen running past. Smoke fills her nostrils as well as her eyes, overwhelming her near the point of fainting. Her epithet keeps triggering out of a panic response; she suppresses it so the firemen will hear her. Flickers of red and orange glow behind the heavy wall of gray that blocks her escape.

Finally she sees a figure in her peripheral.

She passes out.

Percy had always been a light sleeper, but the scream that awoke her would've given anyone a heart attack.

She didn't even have time to process her own thoughts before she was standing in the doorway to Molly's bedroom, emergency shoes on along with her pajamas, and every muscle tensed and ready to fight.

"MOLLY! ARE YOU UNHARMED?!"

The distress in Percy's voice quickly faded back into her chest as she scanned the room to see naught but a trembling, rather meek-looking girl clutching a pillow and sobbing into it.

"I-I'm sorry," Molly sniffed, words barely audible through her pillow. "I-I'm fine, I j-just had a bad dream… d-don't worry about m-me..."

Her submissive demeanor broke for a moment as her eyes were raised to Percy's right hand. "...i-is that your sword?"

Percy blinked and looked down at her own fist, white from clutching so tightly.

"Apparently."

Molly gave a weak smile, as if trying to appreciate the humor, before her face turned dark once again. "Sorry to wake you… I-I haven't had that nightmare in almost a year, otherwise I would've warned you… Sorry."

Percival shook her head quickly, forcing her right hand loose with her left. "No, no, it's no trouble at all. I'm just relieved there was no immediate danger."

It was in that moment that both parties suddenly grew awkwardly quiet, neither particularly knowing what to say or do.

"Do… do you wish to talk about it?" Percy abruptly asked, her mind reeling to remember what exactly was best for children in the case of a nightmare.

"No, no, I'm good," Molly said quickly. "I-I've talked about it with Sylvie, he's really helping me with it… hence why I haven't had it for so long… um, yeah." She paused awkwardly. "But thank you."

"Right... I'm glad to hear it." Percy nodded, then hesitantly glanced back over her shoulder. "Um… I suppose if you'd rather be left alone—"

"NO!"

Both Percy and Molly flinched at the unexpectedly loud voice, and Molly curled up into a ball even tighter than before.

"S-s-sorry, I d-didn't mean to—"

"You're fine," Percy reassured quickly, trying to stop the panicked drumming in her chest. She knew for a fact that she'd read about this exact situation in multiple of her books, why couldn't she remember anything she was supposed to do or say—

"I'll— I'll just leave you alone," Molly interrupted, squeezing her pillow so hard Percy worried it might rip.

"Are you certain? If there's anything I can do…"

"No, it's— it's dumb, really."

Percy bit her lip, certain that if she were wittier she would be able to make a joke on the girl's epithet. "I don't wish to leave you feeling unsafe."

Molly blinked. "U-um, but you said it yourself, right? Th-there's no real danger…"

"I am fully aware of the emotional impacts traumatizing events leave," Percy replied bitterly, a bit of her policewoman-of-justice expression showing. "You are quite safe, of course, but I would like you to feel as safe as possible. Sincerely, if there is anything I can do—"

Molly mumbled something into her pillow. Percy blinked, thrown out of her train of thought.

"Er, pardon. If you could repeat—"

"Can I sleep with you?"

The bad-bad-bad-sick-sick-sick-what-are-you-doing feeling suddenly plunged its way back into Percy's chest as she comprehended what the girl before her had just blurted out. For some reason, her brain also suddenly became hyper-aware of how informal she must've looked to the child out of uniform.

"I-it's really fine if not," Molly added quickly, "it's not even like I've done it since I was little, I'm really used to sleeping alone, so I don't want you to feel bad—"

"No, I was just— caught off guard, is all." Percy shook her head, rubbing her eyes as if she weren't already fully awake. "If it will make you feel better, then o-of course you can."

Some part of the cop's brain screamed not to offer anything unless she'd checked the books— wasn't there something in one of them against older children continuing to sleep with their parents?— but Percy found that in the moment, that part of her brain apparently held little sway over her actual actions.

Molly, however, still seemed hesitant. "I really don't want to make you uncomfortable," she murmured, her voice sinking back to a whisper.

"Please," Percy heard herself reply, "if it's something that will make you happy, I want to do it."

The sentence she'd given herself absolutely no permission to speak rang in her head so loudly, she didn't even notice the long pause the smaller child took before slowly crawling out of bed, hands still trembling and moving to the bottom of her pajama top to find a hem to clutch.

"Uh."

This time, Molly's voice jerked Percy out of her thoughts.

"Did you get that sword from your room, or…?"

Percy felt a faint heat rise to her cheeks. "I keep it by my bedside for emergencies." Pausing and looking down, she added, "Same with the shoes. In the event of an earthquake or other disaster which might require quick escape, it is unwise to run barefoot in the dark."

Molly stifled a snicker, which actually made Percy feel slightly less self-conscious, perhaps just because of the familiarity of the response.

"Okay, then. A sword and shoes. Good to know."

Molly lie perfectly still, curled on her side facing away from Percy, hands clutched around herself, and very, very much awake.

Percy was awake, too. Molly was sure of it because, probably unknowingly, the woman was murmuring sequential numbers out loud, as if counting something very quickly. Sheep, maybe.

She honestly wished she hadn't asked to sleep together out of the blue like that. She wasn't even sure why she had. When she was little, she always slept with her mom after nightmares, but— well, Percy wasn't her mom, and besides, it had never been a coping mechanism for that specific nightmare. Her dad and sister never...

"Um."

She cleared her throat and Percy jolted out of her counting.

"Yes?"

Molly turned slightly to face her, thinking it would be rude not to, and tried her best to lessen the creases between her eyebrows. "I just… wanted to say thank you. Again. I know…" She hesitated, wondering suddenly if her words might be taken as an insult. "I know none of this is easy for you?"

Percy frowned. "You've been apologizing a lot tonight for things you needn't apologize for. I presume you're referring to my taking you in, in which case you certainly shouldn't apologize. It was the right course of action to move you from your situation, and it was entirely my choice."

"Yeah, but—" Molly hesitated, suddenly feeling tears well up in her eyes. She quickly rubbed them with her sleeve; she really didn't feel like crying again. "You still could've placed me in foster care, or found a different home, or…"

"Both options I gave you," Percy reminded her.

"Right… but in the end, you said you'd take me in, and I accepted." Molly cast a tired glance downward. "I know you offered, but I feel like I've caused nothing but trouble for you. I— I'm definitely not what someone would expect when adopting a d-daughter."

"Molly!"

Molly almost jerked in surprise from the harsh tone— one she hadn't heard Percy direct towards her in… well, almost ever.

"Why would you think you've been causing me trouble? You've done anything but. In fact, if either of us isn't what the other expected, I'm sure it's me."

Now it was Percy's turn to avert her gaze, and Molly was suddenly overcome with a sickening sense of guilt. In her simple nightwear, lying with her head pressed against a pillow, the cop somehow looked significantly less confident than with the uniform she always adorned before showing herself.

"I know I haven't… I know I'm not a very good parent. And I've been trying hard to make up for that, but…" Her voice trailed off as touched her left arm gently, gaze darting away from Molly. "I know there's something other parents have, some understanding I don't quite get, whether it's biological from the course of birthing a child or—"

She winced, as if slightly more aware than usual of her rambling habits.

"—I don't know. Whatever it is, I don't have it. And I… I'm fully aware I can never replace what you lost. I want you to know that."

In the several months she'd lived with Percy, Molly had never once seen her even close to tears. But there the blonde woman was, shivering and eyes glistening ever so slightly in the dark.

"Percy, I—" Molly choked on her words seeing how her guardian jolted at the use of her name. "I-I'm really sorry, I didn't… I never thought of you as a replacement. And I'm really, really, sorry if that's how you felt—"

"It isn't you who should apologize," Percy abruptly repeated. "I've already told you, I accept the fact that I lack the intuition most parents seem to possess. I… only wish you would tell me what you want. I can tell you aren't happy."

The words seemed to spill out of her mouth like water, something that felt very literally close to spilling from Molly's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Molly whispered hoarsely, not able to control her instinctual apologizing while trying to wrangle the other hundred thoughts running amok in her head. "I— I haven't really made it easy for you, have I?"

"Molly, please," Percy pleaded, starting to turn her entire body back towards the girl to make he request. Her eyes were definitely wet. "I don't wish to hear you berate yourself any long—"

She was cut off by the softest thump of a child's head hitting her chest.

"I'm really sorry," Molly whispered almost under her breath. "I'm n-not very good at asking for things, but I— um, I can't really sleep if I'm not holding something. I know it's dumb, but can I… um…?"

At first, Percy's silence scared Molly into thinking she'd overstepped the line, but then she felt a pair of hands come to rest on her back and neck. They were trembling violently.

"I'd be fine with that," Percy replied, voice wavering just near the breaking point. Molly knew that feeling all too well, and it was surreal to hear it coming from the other, but she was too relieved to think much of it. She wrapped her arms around the taller woman and pressed herself against the comforting sensation of human warmth and protection, letting her eyes drift shut.

"Thank you," she mumbled, already feeling the sheer emotional exhaustion suddenly slam into her like a truck. She noted, vaguely, that Percy smelled really nice, in a way very different from her mom. She also had a sudden memory of how her mom used to card her hands through her hair when they slept together. It always soothed her right to sleep.

But Percy's hands lay gentle on her back, almost as if they were holding something fragile of great worth, and that felt nice, too, in a different way.

And it was such that these were the last things Molly was cognizant of before drifting off into a (finally peaceful) sleep.

(A/N: friendly reminder not to spoil past E6 in your reviews! if problems arise from episodes 7/8, which they probably will, I'll either edit the story to fix them or [more realistically] just ignore them entirely and pretend they don't exist. on that note, please DO review; if it sounds like I'm begging that's because I am)

(EDIT: WHOO E7 DIDN'T INVALIDATE THE FIC! And Jello himself confirmed Mom Percy as an original concept for the show?! We live in a good world folks)