Author's note: I know they would never get divorced! Just exploring an interesting (to me) road. Also, I try to write them as in character as possible, but I'll also give myself the space to make them fit the story. And I'm still exploring what this story is. Aaand thanks for reading!

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The walk-up to the Jackson-Blofis apartment was so familiar that Annabeth could have done it with her eyes closed. Or fixed to a phone screen, as it was.

"I sent you that blueprint last night, I know I did and you lost it…" she muttered to herself. "No, don't bloody call me – Fischer, hi!" She rolled her eyes as she put the phone to her ear. "I actually sent that blueprint over – you didn't? Well, I'll resend it later, but I've left work and I'm picking up my kid right now, so…oh, well, I do!" She reached the door and knocked quickly. "I'm hanging up, okay?"

Fischer rushed to keep her on the line, just as the door opened. Sally Jackson ushered her inside, squeezing her arm. Annabeth automatically put a finger to her opposite ear. "I'm hanging up!" she snapped. She cancelled the call and slid her phone away, neck flushing slightly. She tried to minimize the "distracted-workaholic-ex-wife" impression whenever possible.

Sally closed the door. "You still have your key, right? You know you can let yourself in, sweetheart."

"I do." Annabeth gave a small smile. She never let herself in.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she quickly silenced it. "So, how'd she—"

"Mama's here!" The three year old's shriek came from behind the sofa, where the tangled blond head ducked. Annabeth gave a tiny sigh. Why was it that whenever she came to get Gracie, the toddler ran and hid, and whenever Percy appeared, she shrieked with joy and ran straight into his arms?

Sally smiled. "She did just wonderfully. And she drew you a picture – she made it very clear that it was 'for mama' and no one else."

Sally took a messy drawing off the fridge and gave it to Annabeth. Annabeth squinted at the blue crayon marks. It was unmistakably a scene of the ocean.

An unwanted sensation itched in Annabeth's throat; she cleared it quickly and put the drawing out of sight in her bag. She noticed, then, that Sally was wearing lipstick. "Oh, are you going out?"

"We are. Estee has a school play this evening." Sally moved around the little kitchen. "Would you like some tea?"

Annabeth rubbed her temple. It had been ages – years, possibly – since she'd had tea with Sally. It had been some time since she'd even been in the apartment, and yet Sally, with her warmth and her subtle, easy nature, acted as though it had just been yesterday.

Annabeth moved to find Gracie behind the couch. "Thanks, but we won't hold you up. Another time, maybe."

Grace was busy on the rug with oversized Legos. They were the precise Legos that Annabeth had brought for Estelle nearly a decade before.

As Annabeth knelt to help put them in the bin, a door opened in the hall and a pair of feet pattered out. There was a gasp behind her.

"Annabeth!" Estelle Blofis launched herself at Annabeth, wrapping her nine year old arms around Annabeth's waist and squeezing with all her strength. Her face was buried in Annabeth's shirt. "Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth…"

Annabeth laughed a little, but really her heart felt like it was caught in an iron bear trap. "Hi, Estee." She smoothed Estelle's long brown hair. "How've you been?"

"Are you coming to my play?" Estelle demanded. "There are still seats left. Lots and lots of them, really…"

Annabeth straightened up. "Actually, not tonight. Gracie and I've gotta hit the road."

Estelle bit the inside of her cheek. "Okay…but, will you come over more, now? Please, please. I want to show you the science project I'm doing, and my one-handed cartwheel…" She wandered toward the kitchen and got out some lemonade. "And Bella and I aren't friends anymore, did you know that?" She looked at Annabeth with a challenging eyebrow raise, gauging her reaction to this prominent news.

Annabeth finished with Gracie's shoes and scooped her up. "Nope, I get my news firsthand from you. And I want to hear all of it, okay? We'll see you soon."

She wondered how much of an empty promise it was. She had realized, recently, just how many empty sentences she'd been saying to fill awkward gaps in her life. She'd vowed to fix it, which had led to her saying very little at all.

Estelle handed her Gracie's bag. "She made you a picture today, you know. It was a good one."

"I know she did, I got it." Both of them smiled at Gracie, who was entirely uninterested in their conversation.

"Well, we're going to get going." Annabeth edged toward the door, and Sally reappeared. "Thank you as always, Sally."

"That's what we're here for, Annabeth." Sally came forward and kissed Gracie. "Bye, Gracie-Lacie. I'll see you soon, okay?"

Grace patted Sally on the cheek. "Bye bye, Grandma."

It took Annabeth a moment to maneuver everything out the door. As they stepped into the hall, she could hear Estelle saying something indecipherable. And as the door swung closed, she could just make out Sally's voice: "…have their own life now, baby."

The stairway was darker as Annabeth descended, balancing Grace in one arm and the rest of their things in the other.

…

The macaroni noodles were just going into the pot when Percy called.

Annabeth wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder as she stirred the noodles, adjusted the burner, and turned on the stove fan. "Hi."

"Hey. Just making sure you were able to grab Gracie."

"Yeah." Annabeth put down the spoon and pushed a damp curl off her forehead. "Yeah, I said I could. We're home now."

"Okay. I – thanks for doing that. I shouldn't have to work late again next time."

"It wasn't a problem, Percy."

"How is she?"

"She had a great day, she's…" Parked in front of Cartoon Network. "In PJs and reading the Odyssey."

"Gods, I didn't know Scooby Doo taught Homer now."

"Yep."

Annabeth got out a colander and put it in the sink. "Are you going to Estelle's play?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm actually headed there now. I'll be late, but what else is new."

Annabeth was abruptly ready to end the call. "Okay, well I won't hold you up. We'll see you on Saturday."

There was a considerable pause on his end. She could hear the noise of traffic. "All right, Annabeth. Have…a good week."

"You too." She ended the call and tossed her phone, then turned and poured the steaming pot into the colander. Boiling water splashed across her fingers, drops reaching her wrist.

"Shit," she hissed, dropping the pot and wringing her hand. And yet she didn't rush to run cold water over her burning fingers. She stayed right where she was, watching her skin get redder and more painful by the second.

…

"And Estee…and Piper…and Thalia…" Grace curled a finger down as she listed each name. Somehow all her fingers got used with every two names, and she had to open her fist and start again. "And daddy…"

Annabeth scrunched her nose playfully and leaned down so their heads were together on the pillow. "You already said him."

"And mama…"

Annabeth smiled. "You said us first. Is it 'cause we love you the most?"

"You and daddy love me the most?"

Annabeth nuzzled her nose against Gracie's cheek. "Yep. Always and forever."

Grace regarded Annabeth seriously through her curls. Her big green eyes were often playful or mischievous, but they could take on a familiar solemnness, too. "I love you the most, Mama."

She reached for Annabeth's pinky finger and twined their two together, squeezing tight in the unbreakable way that Annabeth had taught her.

Annabeth's heart squeezed. She pressed her lips into her daughter's hair. "Okay, baby girl. It's time for sleep."

Three hours later (after two songs and a final round of the "list who loves you" game), Annabeth was startled from sleep by panicky cries through the wall. She was there in two seconds, turning on the bedside light and smoothing Grace's curls off her forehead.

"Did you have a bad dream, baby? Mama's here, I'm right here…"

Gracie blinked confusedly into awareness, scrubbing a little fist through her eyes. "I want daddy," she sniffled.

Annabeth leaned backward as if she'd been burned, the force of the words piercing her. She took a deep, shaky breath. "Honey, daddy's not here right now. You're at mama's. We'll see him soon, okay? Really, really soon."

She ended up scooping Grace up and bringing her into the big bed, as happened most nights anyway. Grace nestled close with her head tucked under Annabeth's arm, just about healing the small hole that had been drilled into Annabeth's heart minutes before.

…

The marriage had lasted only four years. They'd married in June of the summer they would both turn twenty one, in an intimate beach ceremony. Annabeth had worn a summery white dress and no shoes, her hair laced with forget-me-nots and other flowers. None of their friends or family really understood what had gone wrong, or was satisfied with the explanations either side gave. In the end it was collectively agreed that they'd just been too young, and this was the natural fallout of heedless twenty year olds binding their lives together, and the unplanned baby that had followed within a couple years.

Annabeth stayed busy. She had no choice. At twenty six, she was in the middle of trying to make her career take off, of affording her New York apartment and paying bills alone, of parenting a three year old. She didn't have time for wistful regrets.

…

"I believe this is yours." Annabeth passed a sleeping Grace over to Percy in the parking lot. It was an old joke from when Grace was a baby – when they were still together – and she wouldn't stop crying, or would spit up everywhere, and one of them would pass her off to the other, saying "I believe this is yours."

He took her easily, the sun making his lean, strong arms glow. He carried Gracie to his car and buckled her into the carseat, all while she slept soundly.

He turned back to Annabeth and leaned back against the car, hands in his pockets.

"How've you been?" He asked, watching her in a way that said he really wanted to know. He'd been like this lately, more and more. Asking about her, smiling his endearing, reckless smile, dodging fights and making it look easy. Coming in peace.

The sun was lighting him up; dark jeans, t-shirt, tousled black hair. He still had his SPQR tattoo. At twenty six, he looked perhaps the best he ever had. Add an adorable tangle-haired three year old sleeping on his shoulder, and it was enough to make any girl's heart weak. She would never, however, get used to the sight of him without his wedding band. She swallowed and crossed her arms against an invisible breeze.

An old sentence floated to mind. The sea does not like to be restrained. A point near her temple gave a dull throb; she'd had a headache for three days. There were so many times, during the messy separation, when she'd wished she could just throw those words at all their friends and family, their people asking questions and prying into their problems. At times it felt like the only sentence that made any sense. Not just the unmoored depths that were inside him, but the titanic ocean of heart and experience and messy beating roughness that crested between them.

You cannot make stay what doesn't want to stay. You cannot crowd the space of what needs space. You cannot tame the ocean.

The mantra had given her an unbidden peace, when she'd needed it. And she needed it now; maybe always.

It is what it is. We are what we are.

Annabeth gave a deep sigh. "I've been good," she said quietly. And then, before she could stop and think about it, she stepped in and hugged him – not for long, but brief and quiet and aching, taking in his overwhelmingly familiar and appealing scent. He didn't seem surprised, but just hugged her back, and then let her go.

"Take care of our baby," she said.

He just looked at her for a long moment, nodded, and then waited until she'd gotten in her car and driven away.

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