A/N: I TOLD YOU THIS WAS COMING!

This is posted on August 18th, 2013, on the birthday of Percy Jackson, which I feel is fitting for the end of these three stories (Mare Nostrum and Tandem Supra being the prequels that you should read). This took a while for me to write because it's a very different style, but I think it kind of worked. I've also always wanted to do Sally Jackson as a character because I feel like she's underrated.

EDIT: "De Fracta Vitrum" means "Of Broken Glass". You'll see why.

Disclaimer: I do not own the amazing Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus series(es) and the equally lovely Sally Jackson.

-=α=-

Sally Jackson-Blofis thought she'd known pain, but she hadn't.

It's funny, she thinks in retrospect, how you think you know something when you don't, and you never have. She thought she'd known pain when Annabeth had come to the apartment in the middle of the night sporting glassy, red-rimmed eyes and one of Percy's old sweatshirts.

She'd thought she'd known what pain was, when she blearily got out of bed at the sound of the doorbell –because no one would ring at 3 am in the bloody morning unless it was a real emergency– in her pyjamas and a housecoat, and heard those words come out of her son's girlfriend's mouth. He's missing, Sally. The blonde girl sniffled as a single tear fought its way down her face. I don't even know what happened, but Percy's gone. I- I just went to his cabin yesterday morning to wake him up and he was gone. No one knows where he is, not even Grover. We- Grover and Nico and I- think he's still alive, but- the girl broke into another round of sobs, but Sally was too frozen to even think about moving to comfort her- we don't know. I- I'm so sorry, Sally.

She remembers that feeling vividly, how it was like someone had dipped a rusty, handmade dagger into liquid nitrogen and then ran her through with the blade, cleaving her heart into two jagged pieces that felt like they would splinter if she moved even a mere muscle. She remembers with every fiber of her being how all she could do was just stand there, rigid as a board and staring at the girl in front of her in both shock and absolute horror, because somewhere in this diseased world (somewhere), her son was missing and for all she knew, he could have been captured, been tortured, or he could be dead (after all, empathy links aren't all that reliable)–

Paul had been walking out of the doorway to their bedroom, tying his own housecoat around his waist and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and he was just in time to hear the last few sentences of Annabeth's admittance.

Dead, Sally had thought dazedly, like the truth hadn't exactly hit her yet. My beautiful son is missing and for all I know, could be dead.

And then she fell, crumpling down towards the ground like a 142-pound block of pure lead. It was lucky, she thought, that Paul was already making his way towards her and had good enough reflexes to be able to catch her.

-=β=-

The days passed slowly. Once that first day had passed, it was a little better. It still hurt—gods, did it ever hurt—but it was better. It was almost bearable.

A new routine was born out of these ashes. Annabeth visited almost every single day, sometimes crying, sometimes just sitting stoically on the over-stuffed tan suede couch with the sea blue pillows that Percy loved. Sometimes she'd talk. Sometimes they'd just cry together. She'd stay for a few hours, either until dinner or until it got late enough that they might actually be able to sleep through the night, if Annabeth visited that late.

Mornings were always worse—in those first few dazed, confused minutes when she'd just woken up, Sally would stretch and smile and think something like, I wonder how Percy is doing at Camp Half Blood. Maybe I should try and IM him…

And then she'd realise that no, she couldn't IM him, because he was missing. And then she'd choke on a cross between a gasp and a sob and flop back down to the pillow, her smile vanished so fast you wouldn't even think it was ever there. And then she'd turn her face into the soft material, let herself be pulled by the waist into Paul's chest, and tried not to burst into tears.

It had only been a few days, but it felt like a lifetime.

-=γ=-

A few days after Percy disappeared, Annabeth suddenly appeared at their door, disheveled with tired eyes. I'm going to go out searching for him. But first, there's some stuff I wanted to tell you.

After Sally had taken Annabeth's coat, the younger girl sat down on the couch, her body folding in on itself. Her thin hands pulled at the sleeves of the swim team sweatshirt she'd long ago "borrowed" from Percy.

"The day before yesterday," she started, her voice hoarse and rusty, "I had a dream from Hera."

She told Sally about her dream, how Hera had told Annabeth to go to Grand Canyon and find a hero with one shoe. Hera had told Annabeth that this hero would be the answer to Annabeth's problems, but –of course—it wasn't. Instead of finding Percy, Annabeth found three demigods: Jason, a blonde-haired, amnesiac son of Zeus who claimed to be Thalia's sister; Piper, a half-Cherokee daughter of Aphrodite who didn't act like a daughter of Aphrodite; and Leo, the joke-cracking Latino son of Hephaestus.

Throughout her story, Annabeth kept looking at her worrying hands. "Apparently her lovely majesty Queen Hera—" there was a grumble of thunder from above that Annabeth chose to ignore, "—is captured by something. We don't know what. Earlier this morning, Jason and Piper and Leo left on a quest to save her."

Annabeth paused and looked up at Sally, her lovely grey eyes flat and rimmed with purple smudges. "I—they're all really nice people. I like Piper especially, because she's a lot like me, and Leo's bearable," she murmured, pausing and swallowing a lump in her throat. "I just—I can't help resent them a little because they weren't Percy. I mean, I know it's silly, and it's not their fault, but—"

Her voice caught, and the younger girl angrily wiped a tear off her cheek. "Jason especially. I like him, I really do. He seems nice and honest and good, but I kind of hate him because it's like his existence here is mocking me," she continued, her vocal cords taut with pain and guilt. As she kept talking, her hand unconsciously worried at the red coral pendant Sally's son had given her, "I just really, really want Percy back."

There was nothing that Sally could say to comfort the younger girl, just like there was nothing Sally could do to comfort herself. She hated it.

"We'll get him back, Annabeth," Sally tried still, moving to sit beside the girl once so full of spunk and hope and hugging her tight. "And then you can kick his ass and I can tell him that I'll personally set a Hellhound on him if he ever disappears again."

Annabeth tried for a weak smile that only brought up one corner of her mouth, and a laugh that sounded false and wet as she hugged Sally back with an almost bruising force.

"Thanks."

And then with one last fake smile, the blonde girl grabbed her coat and left with a promise to give her any other news she'd find.

-=Δ=-

Nights no longer held sleep and peace for Sally. They were always just nightmares—her son bleeding out in an alley, varying types of monsters standing over her, or him coming to her doorstep and dying in her arms.

Writing—that didn't work. She'd been trying to work on a story about a woman struggling through pregnancy and motherhood, and when she looked back over her work she realised that she'd given the main character a miscarriage.

And so the days passed.

-=ε=-

It was two days before Christmas when Annabeth came back again. If it was possible, she looked even worse than before.

Another bad habit that Sally had gotten into was wrapping up all the presents she'd gotten for Percy—tickets for a band both he and Annabeth liked, one of those handmade certificates for blue chocolate-chip cookies (good for four batches), a t-shirt that read my Pegasus is better than yours, and a leather cord bracelet with blue sea glass decorations—and then staring at them from their place under their small but over-decorated fir tree.

Annabeth had knocked twice, and once she heard footsteps sounding towards the door, said, "it's me."

Her voice was soft, quiet. Like she was afraid she might break if she spoke louder.

Sally opened the door, hurriedly admitting the girl inside and wrapping her up in the arms. Annabeth wasn't just her Percy's girlfriend to Sally; she was also a personal friend and someone Sally respected and admired.

"Merry Christmas, Annabeth," Sally choked out, even though they both knew it was a lie: it wasn't a merry Christmas, not without Percy.

"Back at you," was Annabeth's muffled, dull reply as she let herself be pulled into the hug, her face resting on Sally's shoulder and her arms looping tightly around Sally's waist.

When they'd pulled away, the younger girl announced she had news, and walked over to the couch with heavy footsteps. Paul, who was tactful enough to leave the two alone for a minute to get their bearings, went into the kitchen to make the three his special 'Blofis Family Hot Cocoa'.

"Jason got his memories back," Annabeth started, running a mess through her tangled mane of curls. "Well, at least he's starting to. Yesterday, we, um, found out where Percy is."

Sally's heart nearly stopped and then started again at an almost dangerous pace. She felt like someone was standing on her chest; every breath was painful, and her trachea felt constricted, like she was slowly asphyxiating. The only thing she could manage out through unyielding vocal cords was, "w-wh-where—"

Annabeth looked down, her grey eyes looking sad and glassy and defeated, the most sullen eyes Sally had ever seen. "Well, I guess I'm gonna have to start at the beginning, aren't I?"

So she talked, curling up into a ball on the couch, wrapping her arms around her crossed legs. She told Sally and Paul, who had come in a few minutes into the explanation with mugs of hot cocoa, that there weren't only Greek demigods—there were also Roman demigods. She explained that they were much like Greek ones, but were more warlike and followed the slightly different Roman mythology. She explained that all the weird things that seemed different about Jason were because Hera had taken him from the Roman camp, which was their version of Camp Half-Blood. It was, as Jason had told them, called Camp Jupiter.

Sally was beginning to feel dread curl up into a tightly-wound ball somewhere in her stomach. She wasn't stupid, after all; she could guess where this was going.

"And, well—" Annabeth stopped, looked down at the mosaic patterned carpet, and swallowed convulsively, "Jason figured out the truth: it was a switch. He came the Greek camp, and-and—"

She started crying, tears flowing out of her eyes at an increasing rate. Feeling numb herself, Sally got up and sat down next to the girl, cradling her in her arms. Paul hesitantly walked over, hovering, not knowing what to do to comfort a girl who could not be comforted.

Finally Annabeth looked up. "And Percy was wiped of all his memories and plopped down in the Roman camp."

Annabeth started sobbing. Sally held her tighter as the numbness spread from her chest to her whole body, soundlessly crying herself, and Paul settled on rubbing small circles onto the younger girl's back. "He-he's all there alone, and he doesn't have his memories, and he doesn't remember us, and the Romans hate the Greeks and they could've killed him already—I mean, I know he's resourceful and a good fighter, but—"

She didn't talk again for the rest of the night.

-=ζ=-

Christmas morning came. When she woke up, her first thought was I hope Percy will like what I got him. And then she remembered.

Paul gave her a moleskin notebook and an amazingly well flowing pen for her writing and a blue apron that had get your own damn cookies written on it. She laughed a little at the apron, thanked him for both that and the writing presents, and kissed him.

The presents left out for Percy stayed unopened under the Christmas tree (which also stayed in the apartment until it turned brown and started to smell a bit funky).

Percy always loved Christmas. It was probably his favourite day of the year: she remembered how she'd set her alarm for half past five on Christmas morning, and how he'd always come tearing into the living room where she'd be waiting with (blue) food at exactly six am, grinning from ear to ear and his beautiful eyes positively glowing with happiness and excitement. Over the years he'd become "too old" to do those things, but even though the magic of Santa faded, his excitement never did. Even last year, when he'd been about six months away from both his sixteenth birthday and his impending doom, he'd been waiting for them in the living room, still in his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet with excitement.

Sally tried to jumpstart her Christmas cheer by putting on some jazzy Christmas tunes, but it only sort of worked. Their apartment felt much too large for just the two of them, without Percy and his never-ending excitement and happiness over his gifts in it. Paul tried to lift her spirits, he really did—goofing off and waltzing around the living room with Sally to the tune of 'Santa Baby' and tying his own apron around his waist (the one she'd given him that read kiss the cook)—and although she loved him all the more for it, it only sort of worked.

Before she went to bed, Sally went into Percy's room. It was a normal boy room—he had band posters and pictures of Annabeth and Sally and Paul and the rest of his friends plastered on the walls, and an unmade bed with his clothes scattered everywhere—with a few noted differences. His closet was open, and she could easily see his camp shirts and a bronze breastplate of his and the pile of blood and ichor-stained clothes that hadn't been washed yet. The pictures of him and his friends usually included armor and lethal weapons. There was a handmade poster on the back of the door that read Immortal my ass (which was crossed out and had your ass ain't immortal, hotshot written in Annabeth's simple, cursive handwriting underneath it, followed by remember that I did turn down immortality because I love you, Wise Girl written below that in Percy's messy scrawl).

At the foot of his unmade bed, where his blue and red plaid bedspread was bunched into a small mountain, was a small and messily wrapped gift. It was, of course, wrapped in blue wrapping paper.

She sat down and opened in. Inside the box was a delicate necklace, made of silver and delicate pearls and sea glass. Beside it was a card that Sally picked up and read.

Hey, mom.

I'm not really good at writing stuff like this (there's an ink blot at the end of 'this', like he paused for a second)… yeah, Annabeth's sitting here laughing at me right now.

I just wanted to say thank you, because I get that I'm kind of a handful and hard to deal with and that I scare you because I'm a demigod and I go on quests and make you worry and almost die on a daily basis (most of that sentence had been violently crossed out). Okay, that's not exactly reassuring. But you've done a lot for me. Even with Gabe… you didn't deserve that to happen to you. I didn't deserve you to do that for me. For over ten years… I don't know how you did it. All I know is you must've loved me a lot for you to put up with him—me, who didn't even realise what was happening until it was too late. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry the asshole ever did that to you, because you deserve the world, Mom, and more.

When I first met Paul, I wasn't exactly enthusiastic (the word had been crossed out and rewritten with different spellings several times) because, you know, he was dating my mom. It's kind of weird. But he's a really nice guy, Mom. I like him. He makes you feel special, and you deserve to feel that special. And he's not like Gabe. I really like Paul because of that. And I just want you to be happy because you're the best mom in the world.

I know I don't tell you this often enough because I'm a teenager and I have problems expressing my feelings, but I love you. You mean everything to me. People at school and at camp tease me and say I'm a momma's boy, but I don't care. It isn't an insult to me, it's more of a compliment. Because I am a momma's boy. And I'm proud of it.

All the love in the world,

Percy

P.S. MERRY CHRISTMAS! I hope you like your present :)

Sally didn't realise she was sobbing until a teardrop fell onto the paper, marring the dark ink. Feeling a weird mix of a hopeful kind of sad and happiness, she found Paul in the kitchen and showed it to him, still crying a little, and they laughed together.

"He's a good kid, Sally," Paul finally said, taking her hand and pulling her closer. He held her against him with one hand wrapped around her waist and the other holding a chipped tea cup. "I don't know him like you do, but I know he's a great kid. He's very resourceful and smart. He'll make it home."

For once, Sally believed him.

-=η=-

Life passed a little easier. Annabeth came over on Boxing Day, having been under almost literal house arrest for Christmas Day and forced by the entire camp to stay for the day. She gave Sally the software for a program she'd designed—it was a special writing program that was like an actual virtual book; you could edit and make your own covers, adjust the margins, do all your fonts and sizes and other things, and it would show you the exact page count for your prototype book ("Really," Paul had grumbled, shaking his head and pouting but not really all that perturbed, "shown up by my wife's son's girlfriend.")

But the best present was the news. "Jason keeps remembering more and more stuff. He remembers the camp and most of his friends. From what he said, the Romans can be cold and ruthless, but they're fair. For the most part, at least. Jason said they'd probably send him to Octavian, who's the camp's augur, apparently. He started laughing at that part, so it was kind of hard to decipher, but Jason said Octavian is like Rachel except he, uh—" Annabeth, looked down, quirked her lips into a small, feeble imitation of a smirk, and raised her hands in air quotes, "—'consults the gods through the stuffing of disemboweled teddy bears.'"

Paul burst out laughing, Sally quickly following with her own soft chuckles. Teddy bears? She thought, feeling distinctly amused.

Through his chuckles, Paul followed the same line of thinking. "T-teddy bears?" he asked incredulously, looking at Annabeth with an eyebrow raised.

Even Annabeth, who was slumped over as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders (again), managed a small smile. "Yeah," she affirmed, her eyes slightly brighter and more like the storm clouds Sally remembered, "that's a direct quote."

Annabeth sobered slightly. "And Leo found this old Cabin 9 bunker back from the Civil War times," cabin 9 meaning Hephaestus kids, "and we found these schematics for this boat that we've just started building. Leo's calling his 'spankin' hot war machine'—another quote—the Argo II because of the irony of Jason's name. It should be built in six months."

Six months. Sally felt the tension from her body recede a little. "Six months?" she repeated, not yet wanting to completely believe that she'd have her baby boy back in just half a year.

Annabeth nodded. "Yes, but then we still have to defeat Gaea, so he might not be back for a bit after that."

Still, it was a timeline, and a date. This meant that something was happening. Sally could live with that.

-=θ=-

The next few months were slow, but they passed by well enough. January passed, then February. Annabeth still came over frequently, but with the preparations for the Argo II (which, as of the last time Annabeth had visited, was going really well and would be ready by late June), the girl was pretty swamped. March passed quicker than the previous months.

Hope was slowly leaking back into Sally's life. The nightmares lessened in frequency and intensity. The sadness was still there (and it would stay there, Sally knew, until Percy came back), but it was becoming manageable.

June was the slowest of the months. Sally crossed off each day on the beach-themed calendar on the kitchen wall in a countdown to the day the Argo II was scheduled to depart.

The day night before the Argo was set to sail, Sally couldn't sleep. They're going to get Percy, she kept thinking. I'm going to get my boy back.

After hours of restlessness, the phone started to ring. Once the grogginess had been shaken off, Sally realized that it was half past three.

Who would call at half three in the morning? she thought grumpily. Telemarketers these days. Seriously.

Then she realized that it could be Percy.

Sally all but fell out of bed trying to reach the phone in time. Her legs slipped in her haste, her hearth thumping erratically. But by the time she's reached the phone, it was gone, the answering machine clicking on.

Hello, you've reached the Jackson-Blofises, Paul's voice intoned. Please leave a message at the tone and we'll try and get back to you as quickly as we can.

The machine beeped, and Sally held her breath. For a moment, it was so quiet that all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.

Then a ragged breath sounded on the other end of the tone, and then a slight sigh.

"Mom," Percy said on the other end of the line, his voice slightly hoarse.

Sally's heart stopped. She dropped down to the floor on her knees, covering her mouth with her hand. Her heart felt like it was trying to push its way out of her chest.

"Hey, I'm alive," his voice continued, sounding slightly wet and emotional. Had he been crying? "Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and…" Percy's voice faltered for a moment, trailing off like he was deciding how to phrase something. "Anyway, I'm okay. I'm sorry."

Sally started to cry softly. He was apologizing. It wasn't his fault, Sally knew, so why should her baby be apologizing?"I'm on a quest—" Sally could hear the wince in his voice, and feel the terror scraping against her. That word always made her worried, and Percy knew that. "I'll make it home, I promise."

Through her emotion, all her sadness, Sally remembered the prophecy in one corner of her mind. But she pushed it back and decided to believe him. He never broke his promises, after all.

There was a little sniffle at the end of the line. "Love you," Percy said, his voice sounding taut. There was another pause, one last, ragged breath, and then Percy hung up.

With trembling fingers, Sally went to voicemail and typed in her password, having to redo it several times.

Mom. Hey, I'm alive. Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and… anyway, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm on a quest…I'll make it home, I promise. Love you.

Sally could barely see. She was sobbing again—not out of sadness this time, but out of happiness and hope— and she couldn't stop crying. It was like all of this suppressed emotion, squandered so long ago by fear for her son, anger at the gods, and worry that the Romans wouldn't accept him after all—was finally fighting itself to the surface, and finally making itself known.

Press 1 to save this message, the voicemail recording sounded. Press 2 to delete forever.

Sally pressed 1 and made her way over to Paul's bedroom, shaking her husband awake.

"What?" he asked groggily, his eyes hooded and thick with sleep. Once he'd blinked and noticed her tears, he shook the sleep off and pulled her towards him. "Wha—what's wrong?"

She gave a single, wet, happy laugh. "I'm not sad, Paul. I'm happy."

Paul looked slightly puzzled as she dragged him out into the hall. "Listen," she said, and pressed play on the voicemail. Paul listened, cautiously at first, but with a smile that slowly grew on his face. Once the voicemail ended, Paul pulled Sally into another hug, pressing his lips against her temple. She smiled up at him, feeling her heart expand.

"I love you," she said softly, muffled by the cotton of his pajama shirt.

"And I you," Paul countered, just as soft. Sally could feel the curve of his smile against her hair before he pulled back, pecking her lips quickly. "But I think maybe you should call Annabeth. She might want to hear this."

Sally IM'ed the girl with a drachma from Percy's dresser. The girl, along with the insomnia that she'd developed over the past few months, was still awake, and when Sally said she had something amazing to show the younger girl, Annabeth immediately agreed.

She arrived five minutes later via the fire escape, leaving an indignant and hoof-stomping Blackjack there.

She replayed the voicemail message for Annabeth as Paul cautiously (but with much enthusiasm) went outside to see Blackjack. Annabeth listened with glistening eyes as Percy recounted what had happened, and smiled tearfully when he said I love you.

Annabeth didn't say anything as she reached over to wrap Sally up in a hug. Instead, they stayed like that for a long time, each reveling in the newfound hope that the message had provided them with—not quite crying, but not with dry eyes, either.

"We'll get him back, Annabeth," Sally said, and this time, she believed her own words. And when Annabeth got up to leave, the spring in her step told Sally that the younger girl did too.

-=ι=-

Sally isn't quite sure what exactly she expected when Annabeth promised her that she'd drop by with Leo, Jason, and Piper, but when a sharp knock sounded on the front door at exactly 9:49 a.m., it still kind of surprised her.

She padded over to door, her hair piled into a messy bun and still wet from her recent shower as she twisted the doorknob, unlocking it with a sharp click of lock tumblers. On the welcome mat, she found four Greek demigods in full battle armour, Annabeth at the front and flanked by who she assumed were Leo, Jason, and Piper.

"Hey," Annabeth said, giving Sally a half-smile that only pulled up the right corner of her mouth as she hugged the older woman. Behind Annabeth, Piper, a pretty girl with a Native American complexion, gave her a slightly sheepish smile. On Piper's left side was who she assumed to be Jason, a blonde boy with blue eyes and a faded scar above his lip, and on her right Leo, a Hispanic, mischievous looking boy with a uncertain expression.

Annabeth had already described the trio to Sally, so the older woman already knew a bit about them. Piper was half-Cherokee and 'the least Aphrodite-like daughter of Aphrodite that you'll ever meet'; Jason was the son of Jupiter, the Roman form of Zeus, a praetor of Rome, and Thalia's younger brother. Leo, the one standing behind Annabeth, was as fidgety, mischievous, and as textbook-ADHD as a son of Hermes was (except for the fact that he was a son of Hephaestus), and he'd built the Argo II, the boat that would be sailing to get Percy and then be their ride on their quest to save the world (again).

"So, uh, this is Percy's mom, guys," Annabeth awkwardly introduced as she pulled away from Sally, before indicating each demigod in turn, "Sally, this is Piper, Leo, and Jason—the three demigods I was telling you about."

There was a short beat of awkward silence when all five of them just sort of stared at each other with uncertain, slightly anxious smiles, broken only when Piper stepped towards Sally tentatively, a benign smile stretching across her face. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jackson," the pretty non-daughter of Aphrodite greeted Sally politely, her voice open and welcoming as she offered a dainty hand for Sally to shake. "We've heard a lot about you."

Sally smiled back, warmed by the younger girl's friendly manner. "Call me Sally, dear," she returned gratefully as she ignored Piper's proffered hand and instead went in for a quick hug. "'Mrs. Jackson' makes me feel old, and I'm not even forty yet!"

The tension disappeared quickly as they all gave shaky little laughs. After pulling away from Piper, Sally turned to Jason. "You must be Jason Grace," she greeted him rhetorically, her mouth lifting up into another smile. When she studied him, Sally found little resemblance to his sister, except for his eyes and something about the way that they both carried themselves, something in the determined set of their jaws. "It's nice to finally meet you. I must say, you look nothing like your sister."

Jason smiled down at her, being almost as tall as Percy, and stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Yeah. Pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Jackson—" He caught Sally's raised eyebrow and quickly amended himself "—I mean, uh, Sally."

She laughed a little at the boy, realising quickly that he was one of those people who wanted to make a good impression as she gave him a quick hug as well. As he awkwardly tried to put his arms around Sally at a loose and polite level, he said, "you know Thalia?"

She nodded. "Yeah, lovely girl. I drove her, Percy and Annabeth to a quest once, all the way to New Hampshire. It was four hours long. Percy got embarrassed because I told Thalia and Annabeth all of his embarrassing childhood moments, but Thalia loved it."

As Annabeth gave an amused snort, obviously remembering, Jason smiled, pleased at the mention of his sister. Sally pulled away and turned to Leo, who was lingering a few feet away from the rest and fidgeting madly. "Uh, hi," Leo said nervously when he felt Sally's eyes on him. Stepping forward tentatively, he continued with, "I'm Leo."

Sally felt a pang of hurt for the boy. Annabeth had told her in rough details what had happened; how Gaea had tricked him into essentially accidentally killing his mom when he was eight, and then bouncing between foster homes ever since. It must have been hard for him to see Sally, caring and happy and alive and a mother.

"Hello," Sally greeted him back, stepping forward herself to wrap the anxious-looking boy up in her arms. "You built the Argo II, didn't you?"

Conversation flowed easily after that, laughter soon following. Eventually, the three new demigods relax, and became more at ease. Sally knew that for most demigods, they weren't not just missing one parent— some were missing both— so this was an achievement for her, to make them feel at home. She plied them with a freshly-baked batch of blue chocolate cookies that the four fell upon with sighs of delight, the plate becoming empty after mere minutes.

Jason asked about Thalia. Annabeth and Sally together told the group some of Percy's embarrassing moments. Jason, Leo, and Piper told Sally and Annabeth some of theirs.

When they finally had to leave, it was done with great reluctance. Sally gave them all huge hugs that they easily reciprocated, telling them each good luck. She saved Annabeth for last, giving the younger girl an especially tight embrace before muttering 'good luck'.

"They're all really good people," Annabeth whispered in her ear before pulling away, grasping the woman by the tops of their shoulders. "We'll get him back, Sally."

Annabeth gave Sally one last smile before turning and joining the other three, who were waiting for her at the top of the staircase. Sally leant against the doorway, watching their retreating backs with a small smile on her face.

There were worse people to help rescue her son, after all.

-=κ=-

Annabeth called about a week after they left to notify Sally that they'd gotten Sally's son back safely (well, mostly).

"He's fine," the daughter of Athena reassured, giving Sally a stressed sort of smile. "He's just in the sickbay right now, which is why I haven't brought him here. He's fine, just knocked out a little from a concussion."

Is that supposed to be reassuring? Sally thought amusedly as she asked if she'd be able to talk to Percy soon.

"Well," Annabeth started, and then paused. "I think so, but right now we're on a really tight schedule. See, Leo may have accidentally pissed off the Roman camp, so they're kind of after us as well as Gaea's forces. There's a lot of work that we have to do. But I promise that the first free moment we have I'll make sure that that idiot IMs you, okay?"

Sally nodded, told the younger girl good luck, bid her goodbye, and then disconnected from the call.

It was the last IM she got from Annabeth on the Argo II.

-=λ=-

Sally Jackson would not classify herself as the overly emotional type– but as with every other thing to do with her half-god son, that could all easily fly out the window.

Sometimes, it was like you could pinpoint the exact moment when something terrible happened, like the details could brand themselves into your brain permanently.

July 2nd, 2010, 4:31 p.m. A warm day, the kind of humid that permeates the air and turns inescapable and leaves you having to strip off in the middle of the kitchen— which, in retrospect, almost always ends up creating the absolute awkwardest situations. The sun was slighting down onto the windows of their small apartment, still hot but with an undercurrent of cool wind than came as the hours dragged on.

She was making dinner for herself and Paul and obsessively straightening out every single throw pillow in the living room– a nervous habit she picked up when her son was missing or on a quest, probably born out of the need to project her worries onto something or other– when she felt it.

Maybe it was just another thing that came with the whole seeing-through-the-Mist trick, but she could always feel when something or someone was watching her, or when something mythological happened –she referred to jokingly as her little sixth sense– and it always came as a slight prickling of awareness down the back of her neck, like someone ghosting cold hands along the skin there.

She dropped a purple velvet cushion and whirled around. Standing in front of her was the mirage of a group of familiar demigods—Piper, her dark hair falling out of its little braids, held by the waist by Jason, whose shirt was shredded and covered in monster ichor and blood lots of other disgusting things; Leo, his face taut and pained in a way Sally had never seen on him before; and Nico, held by the arm by an unfamiliar dark-skinned young girl and looking like he'd gone to hell and back twice and only barely returned.

The first thing she noticed was their faces: all of them had dark purple smudges of fatigue under their tired, glazed eyes and slumped shoulders set in the posture of one totally exhausted and defeated (she knew that expression well—she'd seen it on her son more times than she could count).

Where are Percy and Annabeth? She thought, feeling panic start to take root in her mind. The panic gripped and held tight. Where are they?

Proper greetings were not traded or needed as Sally looked at the image of the young demigods who bore too much resemblance to her missing son. "W-where's my son?"

There was no answer for a few moments. The pause stretched throughout the air around the mother, constricting her throat and making it hard to breathe.

The pretty, dark-skinned girl gave a sob. She covered her mouth with a small, dainty hand, and all but sprinted from the room.

A tear leaked out of the corner of Piper's eyes. Jason pulled her to him, eyes impassive and his jaw clenched, and held her with stiff limbs as she started to sob.

Sally's knees felt weak. The dots had connected, and she was pretty sure she knew what had happened before Nico spoke, his voice rough and robotic and formal and pained and everything she never wanted to hear from the younger boy.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jackson," Nico spoke, his eyes duller than usual as his tongue darted out to moisten dry and cracked lips, "but, I- I'm sorry. Percy and Annabeth, they, um—they fell into Tartarus."

Sally was not aware that she was falling to the floor until her knees hit the hardwood with a soft bang. Piper stepped forward, seeing her distress, and opened her mouth to say what was sure to be soothing words laced subtly with charmspeak— but Sally couldn't (wouldn't) listen.

It was as if her head was a broken TV that could only produce white noise— there was this strange kind of buzzing in her head that she couldn't identify as she swiped her hand through the Iris Message with much more force than necessary—and it only got worse as the tears started falling in a waterfall down the banks of her face, and then suddenly she was full out sobbing on the floor, curling into a fetal position and hugging herself like her arms were the only thing keeping her from literally falling apart.

When Paul came home after what seemed like an eternity, he found a shrieking fire alarm, the ashes of what used to be lasagna, and a sobbing wife with a re-broken heart.

-=μ=-

Once Sally was semi-functioning again after her initial breakdown and the kitchen had been saved, she realised that she'd have to call Annabeth's parents and tell them the news. Long ago, Mr. Chase had told Sally to call whenever if there was an emergency, and as this was on the higher end of the emergency scale, she figured that this warranted an Iris Message.

Paul held her as they set up the IM, keeping an arm around her at all times like if he'd let go, she would fall to pieces again (after all, she wasn't sure she wouldn't). As she got the drachma, stolen from Percy's bedside table drawer, Paul pulled open the drapes that covered the window in front of the kitchen sink, twisting the tap on. As the fine mist created a rainbow, she threw the drachma into the mist, watching it fade and disappear.

"O Iris," she croaked out, her eyes starting to water again and Paul's arm tightening around her in response, "Accept my offering. Show me Fredrick and Helen Chase, San Francisco."

When the mist cleared, she was left facing the image of two adults, a man with receding blonde hair and glasses and an Oriental woman with red-black hair, sitting around a large oak table and each drinking a glass of wine.

Sally cleared her throat roughly. "Hello, Dr. and Mrs. Chase," she started, watching as the pair jumped in their seats and whirled around to face the mirage. "I'm sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but I have some bad news."

There was something distant in her voice that even she could hear, something cold and empty. She pursed her lips and blinked furiously, trying not to cry but in reality breaking apart at the seams. After what happened, how do I tell another parent that their child is in Tartarus?

"What is it?" Dr. Chase must have seen her distraught expression, because his face morphed into a look of panic. "What happened? Is Annabeth okay?"

"Dr. Chase," she started uncomfortably, her voice sounding hoarse and raw, "how much do you know of recent events?"

Fredrick Chase told her that he knew that Percy disappeared, and that Annabeth and three other demigods left to go find him and three others, and then go on a quest that involved saving the world, Gaea, and giants.

Sally bit her lip, pausing. The silence stretched between them, heavy and weighted I will not cry I will not cry I will not cry. For Fredrick and Helen's sakes, I will not cry. "Mr. and Mrs. Chase, I don't know how much you know about Tartarus."

There was a second that stretched between them, condensing in the air, and then Fredrick breathed out, "no."

Sally nodded weakly, feeling tears start to well up in her eyes. Paul, his jaw clenched, wrapped her up in her arms, trying to sooth her. "I'm sorry," she said, and she was, "I'm so sorry, Fredrick. Percy and Annabeth, they fell in-into Tartarus."

Mr. Chase broke down. It was a terrible sight to see, this wise, broad shouldered man completely breaking down, hunching over with his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs that echoed harshly through the Iris Message. Sally watched as Helen moved closer, tears spilling out of her own eyes, and wrapped her petite body around his, trying to give him comfort that would never come.

"I'm sorry," Sally said, hiccupping and sobbing and shaking as she threw herself forward, her hand clawing through the image as she broke down again.

"I'm sorry," she said again, and she was.

-=ν=-

The first few weeks were the worst, each day another painful reminder. Sally saw her son everywhere: in the little kid in the supermarket, rushing over to his mother with a bright gleam in his eyes and a wide smile on his face, an item of food clutched tightly in his hand; in the boy with the black hair that buys blue taffy from Sweet on America, which she still occasionally visits for both sentimental value and its good comfort food; and in the couple waiting for the lights to change on the corner of the sidewalk, his arm around her waist as the two playfully argue back and forth, their banner light and teasing.

It hurt her worse than any kind of torture could, and she began to severely dislike going outside into the real world.

-=ξ=-

Cookies. Blue chocolate chip cookies, to be exact, a batch every other day. Sally idly wondered if she was becoming like what Percy'd told her of May Castellan.

Percy. The name was forever on her mind.

A few weeks after the news, Paul joked that he was going to turn blue with all the blue food coloring.

She burst into tears.

-=ο=-

Another thing that Sally had picked up after Percy's fall was insomnia. It became harder for her to sleep at night, even worse than when he first disappeared.

Most early mornings she'd be found in the kitchen, swaddled in her bathrobe and leaning against that countertop as she sipped camomile tea, staring around at the darkness of the kitchen.

One night sometime in the end of July, she was halfway into what was surely becoming her nightly routine when a voice cut through the silence.

"Hello, Sally."

She knew without even looking who (or more aptly, what) it was. Loaded, powerful, and terribly sad, the voice belonged to Poseidon.

She was so depressed that she didn't even have the energy to blush. "Hey, Poseidon," she mumbled back wearily, wondering idly why he was there as she turned around to face him.

Poseidon didn't respond for a few moments, and instead just looked at Sally, his familiar green eyes boring into hers. She didn't know why he'd come, and by the look in his eyes, he didn't either.

"They don't deserve it," she finally said tightly, her eyes blurring as she looked up at her son's father.

Poseidon flinched as if he'd been shot, his body quickly flickering into something different, something much older and sadder with eternally sad eyes that had seen too much, surrounded by lines and wrinkles and pain. Sally waited for him to respond, to rebut, to defend the gods. But the sea god said nothing until he changed back into his usual form.

As Sally met his eyes, her lips parted in a shocked o. The bottomless green was glassy, and he had tears in his eyes. Sally had never seen the sea god cry, or even come close to it.

"They didn't," he finally responded, his voice hoarse and pained. For a few seconds, they just stared at each other and they were just two people, both connected by their sadness for what had happened to their child. Then with his face undeniably sad and his shoulders slumped back in dejection, he disappeared, leaving Sally alone in the kitchen with only her poisonous thoughts and the scent of a spoiled ocean breeze to keep her company.

-=π=-

His birthday was coming up, less than a week away. Paul and Sally had planned on buying Percy a car (albeit a used one from the secondhand car dealership in the Lower East Side), but as he wasn't around, Sally couldn't subtly ask which car he would like.

The days drew closer and closer, until it was the day before Percy's birthday and Sally still hadn't done anything. By that time, she had grown to think of Percy as being 'away' or on a really bad 'vacation'. She'd learned it the hard way that if she thought of where Percy and Annabeth were for any extended period of time (aka longer than a few seconds), she'd burst into tears.

In the end, she decided on a blue velvet cake (similar to a red velvet cake, but with blue food coloring) with blue food icing. She worked on it for the entire afternoon, making sure every single detail of it was perfect, until it was finally as close to perfect as it could.

It was the least Sally Jackson could do for her missing son, after all.

-=ρ=-

She was making dinner when she heard the noise.

A slight bump outside the front door, the sound of someone banging into something and then cursing.

She quickly slid the pizza dough into the oven, pulling off her mitts and closing the door. It was his birthday. There was a 'blue velvet' cake with blue icing on the top that proved it. Could it be him? Or was it just a cruel trick?

She and Paul moved towards the living room slowly, ever so slowly, Paul's arm curled protectively around her waist.

Suddenly, a voice cursed from the other side. Judging by the noise, there was more than one or two people there. "An'beth, where're my keys?"

Sally choked on a gasp, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. It-it—

"Right here, Seaweed Brain," the second voice was feminine and distinctly amused. They both heard the sound of keys jingling in someone's hand. "Honestly, you'd lose your head if it wasn't attached to you."

Someone sniggered slightly.

"Shut up, Leo," the first voice grumbled, soft and as familiar as the back of her hand.

There was no mistaking it. Those voices belonged to her son and Annabeth. Sally looked up at her husband, a silent question in her features. Is this real?

Paul was smiling, his eyes slightly glassy. Real, he mouthed back to her, caressing her waist soothingly with his thumb.

The key was inserted into the door. Whoever did it was shaking. It took them a while to unlock the door.

Sally counted the seconds. One, two, three, four, five, six—

The doorknob twisted, the door opening, and Sally was facing her son for the first time in over eight months.

He was real, from the way his hair stood up at every single angle possible, to his eyes, and to the way his mouth broke out into a huge grin when he saw her. It was her son. Her son was standing there right in front of her, grimy, cut all over with a sling cradling his right arm and the outline of a large bandage across his chest.

"Percy," she whispered, her voice echoing with awe and reverence. Beside her Paul was grinning from ear to ear. Her brain echoed the chant, repeating Percy Percy Percy over and over again. Beside Percy, she could see Annabeth smirking as she shifted over in her crutches.

"Hey, mom," he rasped back, his voice not only rough because of the pain. His beautiful green eyes were glimmering with emotion. "I missed you."

She was frozen no more. I missed you. Sally was broken out of her trance, and moved forward; one step, two steps, three steps...

She stood close enough to touch him then, and the part of her that still thinks he's a hallucination reaches up slowly and traces the outline of the skin of his rough jaw. Percy had grown a bit of stubble over the last eight months.

My baby has grown a beard, she thought giddily, and promptly threw herself at him.

Percy was caught off balance, but recovered quickly enough, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could with his arm cast. He laughed softly, a strangled sort of sound that tore up his throat. It was his musical laugh, and suddenly Sally Jackson was sobbing, crying out all of the feelings she'd repressed over the last few months, all the visions and dreams she'd had of him struggling down in Tartarus and all of the horrors they could've gone through.

"Percy," she whispered again, her voice muffled by bother her tears and the cotton fabric of his shirt.

Percy shifted in the hug, the arm in the sling resting semi-awkwardly on the small of her back and the other cradling the back of her head. "Shh," he soothed, his own voice marred with emotion. "I'm okay, mom, I'm home."

She felt as if she'd been chained and used as a pack-mule for the last three quarters of a year, and someone had just freed her.

Percy, her mind whispered. Percy.

"I'm home, Mom," he repeated, and Sally could feel him grin into her hair.

Sally laughed a laugh that hadn't been present for almost a year. He was home.

Slowly she released him, and went over to Annabeth, hugging her just as tight. "I'm so glad you're both safe," she stated quietly, her tears slowly subsiding.

"I'm glad too," Annabeth joked quietly back, trying to muster a smile.

Sally noticed the others then, and grabbed each of them in huge hugs: Piper, whose wrist was in a brace and had a nasty scrape across her collarbone, and smiled at Sally warmly as she hugged back tightly; Jason, whose torso was wrapped in gauze and had cuts all over his body and seemed unsure how one appropriately hugged the mother of a friend; Leo, who had a bandage circling his upper arm and smelled of smoke, and tensed a little when she first hugged him, but then relaxed; Nico, who looked like an actual zombie and leaned on his sword like a cane, and gave her his usual awkward noodle hug; and then two other Roman demigods who introduced themselves as Frank, a stocky Oriental-looking boy with his arm in a cast and Hazel (the girl from the Iris Message), who grimaced when she moved but gave Sally one of the nicest hugs she'd had in a while.

"Thank you," Sally announced, grabbing Paul by one hand and Percy by the other. She smiled at both her son and his girlfriend, feeling a bubble of joy swell inside her. "Thank you for bringing my son home."

-=Σ=-

Still wondering if she was dreaming, Sally insisted that they all stay for dinner, which the eightsome did with little reluctance. All of them looked half-starved and in need of a good meal.

She ushered them into the living room, telling them to make themselves at home (which apart from Percy, only Annabeth and Leo did). As she wandered back into the kitchen, she called out, "pizza okay for everyone?"

As she stuck her head back into living room, Percy started sniggering, causing the rest of them to laugh as well. "Mom, we're tired and hungry and we just stopped a Roman/Greek war and Gaea herself and her extremely creepy giant sons. Right now, pizza sounds pretty good."

Sally laughed and cried a little at the same time. She'd missed her son's sarcastic remarks more than she thought she had. "I'll make four," she responded, her smile watery as she blinked to keep from crying any further.

Piper shifted in her seat, moving closer to Jason. "I, uh, I'm vegetarian," she admitted quietly.

Sally smiled at the daughter of Aphrodite. "Not a problem, Piper. We don't really care for Hawaiian, anyways."

After the task of making the crusts for four extra-large pizzas and putting them in the oven, Sally set the timer on the little egg-clock on the counter, and pulled Percy's birthday cake out of the fridge. Smiling softly to herself, she brought it out into the mostly-quiet living room with Paul, carrying plates and plastic cutlery, on her heels.

As soon as she entered the room, Percy looked up and spotted the cake, a delighted look settling on his face. His grin was so wide that the cut on his lip split, but he was so excited he didn't even seem to notice. His eyes softened to a shade of sea-glass green with happiness and affection when he looked at Sally, but he seemed slightly bemused. "Why do you have a cake, Mom? Did I miss someone's birthday?"

Ah. That explains it.

All around the room, faces changed: comprehension dawned on Annabeth, who looked amused; Nico raised an eyebrow at Percy with a have-you-been-hitting-the-sugar-again look on his face; Paul looked incredulous and also slightly amused; and the rest are just watching intently.

Sally gently set the cake on the coffee table, stepping back to let Paul place the napkins and cutlery on the table. "It's August 18th, Percy," Sally said softly, her throat closing up. My baby is seventeen. She blinked once and continued, "It's-it's your birthday."

He got that expression on his face that he gets when he finally realizes something, half-gobsmacked and half-seriously-why-didn't-I-realize-that-oh-my-gods-I'm -an-idiot. "It's my birthday?"

Sally nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak against the tidal wave of emotions inside her. "I mean, we don't really have a birthday present for you, because it required you to pick it out and you weren't here, so we don't have one for you but we can go pick it out when you're ready and—"

Percy reached over to hug her tightly with his good arm, effectively silencing her as he buried his face in her shoulder. "Thanks, mom," he responded, his voice muffled but still wavering slightly with emotion.

For a few seconds, no one spoke. Then, "okay, I hate to interrupt this moment, but seriously, what's with all this blue food?"

Of course, it was Leo.

Percy gave a shaky sort of laugh as he pulled away from Sally, her quickly laughing herself. "Well," Sally started, turning around to face the slightly-sheepish looking Latino boy, "when Percy was really young, he started to draw attention from monsters. By the time he was in preschool, a snake had crawled into his crib, and when I went to pick him up, the snake was dead and Percy was playing with it in his hands. So I knew I had to do something to protect him: I married a man called Gabe Ugliano, because he masked Percy's demigod scent."

"I called him Smelly Gabe," Percy piped in happily, smiling innocently at them. "Turns out that that nickname was right in more ways than one."

Everyone laughed. "He was, to put it nicely, not a very nice person to put up with," Sally continued, feeling Paul's hand pick up hers and squeeze.

"He was an asshole," Percy interjected, still smiling angelically.

"Language!" Sally reprimanded, cuffing him lightly on the back of the head, but she was smiling. His actions and words were just so Percy of him. "So anyways, we used to get into all these arguments about things. I don't know how it happened, but one day we were in a fight and Gabe said that there was no such thing as blue food. As soon as he'd said it, I'd made it a point to make everything I could blue."

"It kind of became an inside joke between me and my mom," Percy finished. "She's been making everything she can blue ever since."

The pizza was finished baking soon after, and the ten of them all set into it like they hadn't eaten for days (which, for some, was probably true). As they ate the pizza and then the cake, placing thick slices of it onto napkins, they traded stories, laughing and talking like they were all one big family. Even Nico participated in the discussion.

"This kid shadow-travelled into my bathroom once," Percy announced, ruffling the younger boy's hair. "I was peeing. Needless to say, it didn't turn out well."

"Hades, Perce, how was I supposed to know that you were in there? It was like four in the morning!" the son of Hades returned haughtily, shooting Percy a dirty look as he fixed his hair.

Sally laughed, remembering the incident and the resulting mess as she listened to Hazel and Leo recount their trip where they met Narcissus.

"We needed the mirror that Narcissus was using to look at himself in because it was Celestial bronze, and we needed it to fix our ship," Hazel started explaining. "I have some, uh, control over precious metals and gems because of my dad, but I needed a distraction."

"So I volunteered a plan!" Leo grinned from where he sat beside Hazel, his voice loud as he stuffed cake into his mouth.

"Oh gods," Piper sighed from the other side of Leo, hiding her smirk behind her hand as Leo told his tale of when he was the 'super-sized mcshizzle' (quote), which left the rest of them in near hysterics.

Slowly the chatter died down, and Sally decided it was time that she suggested that they all went to bed. She practically forced them to stay, insisting over and over again that it was fine, and that she and Paul didn't mind, and setting up air mattresses and unfolding futons. They all separated; Percy and Annabeth took the futon closest to the kitchen, Leo, Jason, and Piper took the air mattress, Frank and Hazel took the second futon, and Nico curled up in a recliner by Hazel.

When Sally left the room, the smile didn't leave her face. It was like she was—bubbles floating inside her, warming her insides, making her feel as if she could fly— like she was intoxicated on happiness. She practically skipped out of the room, and didn't stop smiling for the entire night.

Her son was home again.

-=τ=-

The next morning found Sally creeping into the living room with a video camera in her hand, the red light blinking and indicating that it was filming. Paul followed behind her with an amused expression on her face.

She couldn't help but laugh out loud, Paul quickly following suit. At first, the scene was sweet—Percy and Annabeth were intertwined on one futon, so close to each other that it was hard for Sally to figure out what belonged to who, and Frank and Hazel were lying side by side on the other, their interwoven hands lying between them—but then you'd notice something fishy if you looked at the air mattress in the middle of the room; because Leo was, for all purposes and intents of the word, spooning Jason, his limps clinging to the blonde boy like a starfish. The three of them seemed to be tangled; Leo took up half of the mattress by himself, and Jason and Piper were scrunched up together on the remaining half, Jason lying on his front with one arm thrown around Piper's waist haphazardly.

Sally's laugh stirred the demigods, who one by one roused and joined in on her laughter. First Frank woke up, blinking blearily, and looked down at the trio. He looked up at Sally, bewildered, and then he started laughing booming belly laughs—which in turn woke up Hazel, who fell off the futon with her laughter, and bumped into Nico's chair as she rolled around, wakening him with a jolt. The five of them laughing together woke up Annabeth, who looked up at Sally, down at Jason, Leo and Piper, around the room at everyone else, and then finally back at the trio before bursting into raucous laughter.

Out of the three, it was Piper who woke up first, groaning and stretching as she blinked her eyes blearily. She looked up at the rest of them, confused as to why they were laughing, and then she turned around, seeing Leo's arms clutching at Jason's sides and his mop of wildly curling hair poking out from above Jason's shoulder.

Out of all of them, she laughed the hardest, rolling over onto the floor and clutching her stomach as she laughed a hearty belly laugh, tears in her eyes. Her antics woke Jason, who in turn slowly started to wake up Leo when he started backwards.

"What…" he asked lowly, his voice thick with sleep as he blinked confusedly at all of them laughing, and then at Sally's video camera. Still holding on to Jason, Leo stirred and yawned, shifting. Feeling the weight behind him, Jason scooted over and looked over his shoulder, his face morphing into a look of total disbelief. Leo, feeling Jason move, opened his hazel eyes to see Jason's shocked, freaked out blue ones. "Dude, what the fu—"

"LANGUAGE!" Hazel choked out through her uncontrollable laughter as Leo scrambled backwards.

"I'm not—I don't—" Leo stuttered, his cheeks blushing and looking mortified. "I'm sorry man, I don't even know—"

Jason started laughing, rolling over and into Piper, his body shaking with his chuckles. Even Leo managed a short laugh at his own expense, and then everyone except for Percy, who was still somehow asleep, was laughing.

And the best part?

Sally got it all on camera.

Their combined laughter woke up Percy, who shifted closer to Annabeth as he stirred, only half-coherent.

"Percy?" Annabeth asked, her voice breathless with laughter as she shook his shoulder gently. She got a groan in response. "Seaweed Brain, get up. You just missed the funniest thing ever. Percy. Percy, get up."

Percy gave another moan and snuggled closer to Annabeth, burying his face in her wild hair. "Five more minutes," he slurred quietly.

Sally shook her head, her laughter quieting and an affectionate smile stretching across her face as she watched the adorableness of her son. "Watch and learn, Annabeth," Sally told the daughter of Athena, giving her a conspiratorial wink, "PERCY! PANCAKES ARE READY IN THE KITCHEN!"

Sally didn't even have time to finish her sentence; instead, Percy was already scrambling up, and his eyes still half-closed, he promptly ran into the wall.

This sent everyone into hysterics, and as Percy opened his eyes, cocking his head to the side slightly as he looked at the wall in confusion, Sally wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else.

-=υ=-

Shortly after the spooning and running-into-walls fiascos, the demigods slowly start to disperse. Nico left first, giving Sally a polite 'thank-you' and telling Percy that he'd see the older boy soon. Hazel and Frank left soon after, saying they wanted to explore the city and the camp a bit. After hanging out for a bit, Leo, Jason, and Piper left, giving the remaining four bright, warm smiles as they left.

The quartet sat on the floor where the air mattress was only a little while prior, Annabeth tucked neatly against Percy's side and Sally leaning against Paul, each couple facing each other. Sally brought Percy his Christmas presents, which he fell upon with much gusto, ripping paper carelessly with an expectant smile on his face. He gushed over the tickets for the concert (which thankfully was still a month away), grinned excitedly at the cookie coupons, smiled happily at the bracelet, and laughed at the t-shirt (the latter two presents he put on immediately). He was laughing, Sally realised. Really laughing, like he used to. When Sally turned her head to scrutinize him, his eyes were light, the darkness all but evaporated.

"Thanks, mom," he said happily, crushing her in a hug before turning to Paul and hugging him as well.

Annabeth IM'ed her parents, who both started sobbing happy tears the moment they saw her, planning to get on the first flight they could. The girl was surprised at their reaction, but recovered soon and smiled, telling them the address. There was something different about her, too, something different in the way she walked and carried herself—like she'd let go of some of her demons, even temporarily. She looked younger, more carefree.

The next flight from San Francisco to New York was to touch down six and a half hours after Annabeth called. The four of them sat in comfortable silence on the beat-up couch, watching reruns of Percy's favourite TV show and laughing as they finished off the cake and started on blue chocolate chip cookies.

When Dr. and Mrs. Chase finally arrived, the sun was setting and Percy and Annabeth had graduated to the floor, Annabeth sat between Percy's legs and wrapped up in his arms. Sally had been watching them, her lips curling up in a smile. Annabeth's head was tilted back slightly, the back of her head resting against Percy's collarbone. Every once and a while Percy would smile down at her, a soft look of adoration on his features, and sneak a peck onto her temple, her nose, or her cheek, and Annabeth would give him a soft smile in return, relaxing against him.

Sally wished she had a camera to capture the moment, but she'd left it in her bedroom. So she settled for turning her face into Paul's shoulder to hide her wide smile, and then quickly rushing up to go get the door.

As the apartment was in a very open plan, when one opened the door they could see into the living room. That being said, the moment the Chases walked into the apartment they saw Annabeth.

"Annabeth," Fredrick Chase breathed out, his face blossoming into a wide smile. His eyes were wet as he stood there, waiting for his daughter's response.

The daughter of Athena in question did not move for a moment. Then, with movements so quick Annabeth turned into a blur, the girl pulled out of Percy's arms and ran towards her father, embracing him tightly. Dr. Chase had tears streaming down his face as he circled his arms around the girl, resting his chin on the top of her head. When they finally pulled away, smiling and slightly teary, Annabeth went over and gave Helen a quick hug.

The plan was for Annabeth to go back to San Francisco for a week to catch up, so Annabeth soon returned to Percy's side, enveloping him in a hug. He easily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her in a cocoon and pressing his lips to her left temple. "See you soon, Seaweed Brain," she said with a waver in her voice.

It was evident that neither of them wanted to part. It was understandable that they would've become inseparable after all they'd gone through, after all. "Stay safe, Wise Girl," Percy responded quietly as he pulled away, moving to hold her hands gently. "I'll miss you."

Not seeming to care that her parents were watching, Annabeth pulled Percy in for a quick kiss, her fingers weaving into his overgrown hair. "Love you," she said as she pulled away, her eyes looking sad.

"Love you too," Percy echoed, giving her a soft smile. "IM me if you get nightmares, okay?"

"Okay."

And they were gone.

-=φ=-

The night after Annabeth left, Sally woke up to screaming.

"NO! NO! STOP! ANNABETH! STOP!"

Sally was disoriented. At first, she didn't know what was going on—it was dark and she was still half asleep—but then recognition kicked in, and she realized that the warped vocal cords of the screaming person were familiar, taut and hoarse and alienated, but Sally knew it was Percy.

"No! LET HER GO! LEAVE HER ALONE! ANNABETH!"

She was climbing out of bed before she could even the thought pattern had even reached her brain. The tile was cold against her bare feet, but against the panic she suddenly felt so potently, it was lost upon her. Each scream her son let out was like another stab wound straight through her chest, relentless in its heartache. Her feet slipped several times, the sleep clinging to her in tendrils and not wanting to let go, but eventually she made it down the hallway.

Sally threw Percy's door open in a rush. The wood of the door hit the wall with a small bang, but Percy still trod on in his nightmare. It was worse to see the effects of the nightmare up close: Percy was thrashing around in his small bed, the sheets tangled around his waist. His beside lamp was one, the pools of light throwing his figure into harsher relief: his face was taut with pain, tears running down the sharp planes of his face. His bare chest glistened with sweat, and the bandage that he wore across his it was dotted with bright red blood like the wound had reopened.

Percy started sobbing. His body thrashed to the right, the bedsprings creaking with the effort. He curled himself into a fetal position, the arm in the cast clutched tightly to his chest and the other locked tightly around it. Something about the way he looked—maybe it was the position he was in, or the vulnerability written plainly on his gaunt face—made him look younger, like that little second-grade kid with the big, bright green eyes that Sally remembered so well.

"NO!" he shouted, half a whisper, half a scream, "NO! LEAVE THEM ALONE! ANNABETH! MOM! PAUL!"

He went on naming, so many names that she couldn't catch them all: Grover, Tyson, Clarisse, Chiron, Malcolm, Thalia, Chris, Conner, Rachel, Travis, Hazel, Nico, Frank, Reyna, Leo, Piper, Jason.

"No," he whispered finally, his voice cracking. His eyes were screwed shut, but still tears leaked out, tracing a path down his emaciated face. His breath came out in small gasps. Sally realized that she was leaning heavily on the doorframe for support. He thrashed wildly again, landing eagle-spread across the bed. "NO! LET THEM GO! TAKE ME INSTEAD! LET THEM GO!"

Sally crept quietly and cautiously towards the thrashing figure of her son. She was crying silently again. She wished in futile that they could go back to the easier days—when Percy didn't know he was a demigod, when he was just a normal kid. When Percy laughed and cried little-kid tears (not the ones he was crying now, the kind of choked cry one cries when it built up oh-so-slowly, until you're drowning and drowning and drowning, and all the bad things are smothering you), and his worst fear ever was not having enough blue chocolate-chip cookies. Back when those cookies were always a solution. Now, Sally didn't know if anything she could say or do would help fix her son.

When she crouched down beside his bed, his head flopped towards her as if he sensed her. "Bianca, Zoë, Lee, Castor. Beckendorf, Michael, Silena, Ethan… all my fault," he murmured wretchedly, his breath coming out in whimpers, "all my fault. Take me instead."

He sobbed once, turned his head to the other side in what looked like self-loathing, and said, "I deserve it."

Sally didn't think she could speak against all the emotion inside her, but somehow she did. Her right arm managed to rise from where it was held limply at her side to Percy's shoulder with an extreme amount of effort. "Percy," she whispered quietly, not daring to raise her voice. She shook his shoulder cautiously. "Percy, wake up. Percy. Percy."

She had to scramble back when he awoke with a gasp, starting into a sitting position. "Wha-what happened—"

He suddenly started crying, his sobs shaking his chest. Without further hesitation, Sally climbed into bed beside him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. Percy reciprocated the hug with arms that circled around her securely, despite his cast, and by burying his face in her shoulder to muffle his sobs. "Mom, you're okay. You're okay."

He sounded as if he was reassuring himself. "It's okay, baby," Sally comforted, her hands rubbing soothing circles into his back. She hadn't called him baby since he was eight. Her voice sounded tinny in her ears. "It's okay. You're safe, we're safe, everyone's safe."

Sally hadn't noticed Paul standing in the doorway until he made his way over to the bed and joined them, sitting down criss-cross-applesauce at the head of Percy's bed. "It's okay, Percy," he repeated, sounding shaken himself. He rested a hesitant hand on Percy's shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

Percy mumbled something into Sally's shoulder. It took her a few minutes to decipher it. "Oh, Percy," she responded, her voice sounding choked as she started to cry a little again. "Don't ever be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about. Why are you sorry?"

Percy didn't respond, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he held onto Sally even tighter. Suddenly he shot backwards, almost banging into Paul. "Annabeth," he choked out, his eyes dark and wild, "I needa call Ann'beth."

He shoved his bedside table drawer open, its contents spilling out onto the floor: pens, pencils, paper, Riptide, a flashlight, some mortal money, and several golden drachmas. He cursed once in Ancient Greek and bent over to grab a drachma, his fingers fumbling around for the coin blindly. Sally calmly picked one up for him and held it out, her palm flat like she was giving an apple to a Pegasus. He snatched it of her hand in the blink of an eye, startling Sally and making her pull her hand back quickly.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. There was something in the set of his shoulders that reminded Sally of a caged bird that was desperate to get freed. He cleared his throat. "Right," he said, his voice tensed but not as rough. "Sorry."

He grabbed the glass of water from his bedside table and the flashlight, and manipulated the water into a fine mist against the light of the flashlight. "Oh Fleecy," he said, and when he looked back at Sally there was a quick ghost of a smile dancing around the corners of his mouth. When she blinked, it had disappeared. "Do me a solid. Annabeth Chase… uh, somewhere in San Francisco."

The mirage shimmered in front of them, mist and light rays from the rainbow blossoming into a glittering image as the image slowly came into view. Iris Messages were fickle that way; first there was a small image, spiraling outwards in a crude imitation of an oval that warped in odd spots and was grainy. You had to wait for a few seconds as the call focused.

When the image finally sharpened, the trio saw Fredrick Chase holding a figure with wildly curling blonde hair in his arms. Hovering at his shoulder with worry creasing her pretty face was Helen Chase.

The figure in Mr. Chase's arms was sobbing. It was, without a doubt, Annabeth. Sally wondered sadly for what must have been the thousandth time why it had to be them.

Percy visibly grew both more relaxed and more worried at the same time. "Annabeth," he called out gently, pulling his sheets back and moving closer to the mirage. The flickering light of the Iris Message put the now sharped angles of his face into sharp relief, and his tear tracks along with them.

Annabeth's head shot up from her father's arms as both he and his wife started slightly. Her grey eyes were bloodshot and puffy. "Percy," she responded, quiet and soft and relieved. Her eyes were hollow as she forced a sharp puff of air through her lips.

Percy's lips thinned out, his face growing sad. To Sally it was like looking at him and not really seeing him at all, like someone much older and sadder had worn his clothes and his face and his mannerisms, but it wasn't Percy. The light reflecting against his green eyes made them look as old and sad as a bottomless lake. He looked like Poseidon, she realized with a start, back when she was pregnant and he told her that he had to leave. The kind of sadness you get from seeing too much and not ever being able to stop it. "Hey, Wise Girl," he croaked back, swallowing thickly. He stared intently at Annabeth as if they were the only ones there. The way they talked, acted—it made Sally (and by the looks of it, the others as well) uncomfortable, like they were encroaching on something private that shouldn't ever be seen. "Nightmare?"

When Annabeth inched closer to her end of the Iris Message, Percy did too. Her body turned slightly, and his did too. When Annabeth looked down, biting her lip, his face softened in concern and sympathy. It was like there was some unseen thread, holding them together better than anything else could. Tartarus had changed them, Sally realized desolately, in more ways than she'd thought. Maybe this was her curse as a writer, being able to see things the way she did. The cloud of sadness dug its claws in deeper, condensing into a thick fog in her brain and settling there.

She looked up at the sky. They didn't deserve it, she told the gods. There was no answering rumble of thunder. They didn't deserve this!

She remembered Poseidon's answer when she had said those very words to him. They didn't.

"Yeah," Annabeth answered him, looking down. "You too?"

It was just their own little world for Percy and Annabeth, a safe little bubble in this desolate, terrible world. And they talked about their nightmares and reassured each other in a way Sally never would be able to. When they said their I love yous and their sleep well, Wise Girl/Seaweed Brains, Sally realized how just much Percy had changed in that short eight months.

A little part of her hated the gods for it, too. There it was: blame on the gods, blame on Gaea. Everyone wants someone to blame, she thought. But finding someone or someones to blame won't fix Percy or Annabeth. It won't erase the horrors of literally going to Hell.

Once the Iris Message ended, Percy stared at them for a second, looking both guilty and apologetic. Sally felt her mouth curl into a sad kind of smile as she moved over to him, gently pushing him back onto the bed. He didn't resist, and instead drew the covers up around him. She drew his sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead with trembling fingers, thinking in the back of her mind that he desperately needed a haircut, and pressed a feather-light kiss to his forehead. "I love you," Sally whispered quietly to her son as she touched her open palm to the side of his face, her voice sounding hoarse with emotion even in her own ears.

Percy reached up and laced his fingers through hers, giving her a smile as bittersweet as her own. "Love you too, Mom."

She and Paul crept back to their bedroom wordlessly after saying goodnight. For a long time, they just laid there, holding each other tight until sleep finally overcame them.

When Sally woke up the next morning, she found a stack of (blue) pancakes on a plate on the kitchen island. Written in sloppy writing in blueberry juice on the top pancake were the words I'm sorry.

-=χ=-

Several more episodes occurred over the next few days. It was like this link, connecting the two of them: Percy would bolt up, search frantically for a drachma, saying Annabeth was having a nightmare, and when the call connected, he would be right. Annabeth often did the same.

"It's mental torture," Percy said one night. "To be honest, I don't think that either of us will ever be the same. It changes you. It—Tartarus," he corrected himself, spitting out the word and flinching as he said it, "gets into your mind. It knows your deepest fears, and it uses them against you. It's dark there. You lose hope. Sleep brings no relief—when you sleep, you get nightmares where you see everyone you ever cared about being tortured, or dying. If Annabeth hadn't been there…" Percy trailed off, looking away and swallowing thickly, "or vice versa, I don't think either of us would have survived."

Sally doesn't know how to fix it. So she hugs him, tells him that it's all over now and that he shouldn't worry, and secretly pays Connor Stoll for drachmas to slip into Percy's stash.

-=ψ=-

Time heals all wounds, Sally's heard, and the saying is kind of correct. Percy starts to get better. His eyes are lighter, less bitter, less angry. He doesn't stop in the middle of something anymore and just stare blankly at the wall. His nightmares become less and less frequent. His friends visit, and they help. After spending an additional week in San Francisco, Annabeth decides to transfer to Goode (surprise, surprise) because she's 'heard that it's got great academic potential' (although everyone and their dog knows that she just wants to be close to Percy). She stays in the guest room of the Blofises, although she spends most nights in Percy's room (which Sally pretends she doesn't notice, because she's really just happy that her son is getting better).

They still have nightmares sometimes, terrible things that leave the both of them sobbing and screaming and shaking, but Percy and Annabeth always have each other for comfort. Sally's practically bursting with happiness for them, and she just might be planning their wedding inside her head.

Sure, Percy and Annabeth aren't perfect, and they aren't the same again, but they're damn near close. And that's all Sally really cares about.

-=Ω=-

Happy ending! :3

Thanks for reading,

~Alex (aka dontforget2live) xx

P.S.: Please check out my tumblr (link in bio) :)