Hello?

Is anyone actually reading these stories? Just wondering. It's such a cliché premise: Percy and Annabeth have a kid, ha ha review pls. Urgh.

T for language? I'm sure we're mostly all +teenagers on here. A few naughty words here and there are nothing. Again, changed mum to mom and thongs to flip-flops for my US readers.

Please review with any thoughts, concerns, queries or death threats you may have.

. . . Ω . . .

Chapter One

Dadhood

. . . Ω . . .

"Get that thing away from me!"

I smirked and looked across the room to Josh, who was causally lounging in an armchair stuffing his fist in his mouth to silence his laughter. True, I probably should have tried to do that to – y'know, politeness and all – but I dare you to watch a 19 year-old man jump around because of a crab and not laugh. Especially when that crab was the most harmless and un-scary-looking crab that existed. Kavouri was enjoying himself, though.

Kavouri continued scuttling around on the floor of Josh's Miami home like a madman (madcrab?). Yes, you heard correct; Joshua Antonio Moro lives in Miami. I'm so envious of him. I think he knows that, anyway, that's probably why he invited me to spend the last week of summer break at his place in Florida with his mom, step-dad, two half-brothers and half-sister. You might be wondering why I'm so jealous. Yeah, sure, it's Miami and all (he also lives on a condo right on the beach) but there's more.

I'm a demi-god (that's a half-god and half-mortal). Uh-huh, I'm the daughter of the Tidal Lord and Guardian of the Atlantic Percy Jackson, and Olympus' very own architect Annabeth Chase. Their parents are Poseidon and Athena respectably – and, yes, I mean the Greek gods Poseidon and Athena. Josh is a son of Apollo, while our two other friends are the son of Zeus (Alex) and daughter of Athena (Monique; which technically makes her my aunt). We kind of battle monsters and stuff; we're trained to survive in the mortal/divine world by a horse and a goat at Camp Half-Blood. You could say it's fun, if facing death is exciting for you.

"Warren!" Josh exclaimed. "Chill!"

"I will not chill, Joshua!" Warren Antonio Moro – Josh's eldest half-sibling at 19 – snapped at Josh, the man now standing on top of the kitchen table. "Get that freakin' thing out of here!"

I rolled my eyes, "You live in Miami and you're scared of a crab . . . ? Whatever, Kav, come on."

Aw, but I'm having so much fun scaring The Mountain, Kavouri thought-said, but he scuttled over to me anyway―

―with a yell, Josh fell to the floor, clutching his head. I jumped up and ran over to him, his step-dad kneeling beside him.

"Josh? Josh, are you okay?" I asked, slightly frantic. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Josh sat up – seemingly unharmed – and leant against the armchair, rubbing his temples. "Stupid gods."

"What?"

He looked up at me, "Warren? Can you give us some privacy?"

Warren looked at his half-brother oddly, but left the room. Mr Antonio Moro stayed kneeling down beside his step-son. "What is it, Josh?"

Josh groaned, "Stupid . . . Apollo needs my help. Now."

"Like, now, now?" I asked.

"Like right now, now."

"Your . . . father?" Mr Antonio Moro stood up, "I'll—I'll get your bags then."

Thank you.

I looked at the crab on my shoulder, "Kav, he can't hear you."

Well, I tried. What do you think 'Pollo wants?

"Since when have you been on slang-name basis with the god of music?"

Long story.

Josh glared half-heartedly at Kav, "I hate it when you two start having your weird mind-conversations."

Do you know what else is weird, music boy—

"Kav," I warned, flicking his shell. Kav looked up at me with those beady eyes, but didn't say anything else.

"Okay," Mr Antonio Moro pulled our suitcases behind him. "I've got your stuff. Andy, you might want to check your room for anything you've unpacked or put in drawers or something. Josh, your—"

"Clyde, Warren, Lake, Josh, Briony! I've got some . . ." Mrs Antonio Moro stopped as she saw both me and Josh with our suitcases. She sighed, "You're leaving?"

Josh nodded, "Sorry, mom, but da—" he looked over at his step-father, "— Apollo just sent me a message. Apparently he needs help."

"And it's urgent," I added.

Josh nodded, "Super urgent."

Jacinta (because that was Josh's mom's name) looked over at her husband (Clyde) and smiled softly, "Alright, then. I suppose you two need to get back to camp, then?"

We both nodded.

"I'll take them to the Amtrak station," Clyde offered, feeling around in his pockets for his car keys. "You just got home, sweetie."

"Okay," Jacinta turned to us. "Stay safe, okay? I— just stay safe, please?"

Josh laughed, "Yes, mom. I promise to try."

"Comforting," she said before rushing to embrace her son. "Love you."

"Love you too, mom."

"And you," she said, turning to me, "try not fall off any more mountains this time, eh?"

Pouting, I gave her a hug. "That wasn't my fault."

"Still," she shrugged. "Stay safe."

. . . Ω . . .

I stared out of the window as we sped towards the New York skyline. I was going to miss Florida; the beaches and the sea. Florida was just so much cleaner than Manhattan. I'm not hating on my home city or anything.

But it's nice to breathe fresh air for a change.

It was really nice of Josh to invite me to his house for a week. Mom just . . . we've been getting on each other's nerves lately, with her boss grilling her about missing work and my new-found monster-attraction. I needed to get away from New York, and Josh has offered his family's insane apartment in Fort Lauderdale. Josh had been acting a lot nicer than he had last summer – I guess he got over the whole 'crush' thing. Thank the gods he did, because that was getting awkward. I love Josh; he's one of my best friends.

"Get up, lazy. We're here," he said, as he kicked my leg.

But he can be an idiot.

I groaned, stretching my neck and cracking my back. "Urgh . . . I don't like long train rides. Stupid trains."

Josh laughed and took his bag, handed me mine and we stood up. We followed the stream of passengers through the doors and onto the platform. The people surged across the floor and up the escalators so fast I clung to Josh's backpack just so we could stick together. I may be a New Yorker, but Grand Central still terrified me.

(They're all wearing suits.)

Thankfully, the escalators opened up into the main terminal fairly quickly. The hall was busy with business men and women heading back home from a long day at work (also, there were tourists. You could tell because they're the only people who will ever wear those stupid 'I Heart NY' t-shirts). The American flag hung over the crowds, swinging gently against the gold gilded walls. It didn't take as long to get out into the afternoon overcast. The sky was a dreary grey, the threat of rain hanging over everybody's heads.

Man, I missed Florida.

"Earth to Andy. Wake up, Andy!"

"Huh?" I jerked to Josh, who was waving his hand in front of my face. "Wha—?"

He laughed, "Wow, you are tired. Come on, we've still got to get a taxi up to camp. You need some coffee."

The great thing about New York is that – no matter where you are – you can always find two things: MacDonald's and Starbucks.

Entering a Park Avenue Starbucks, we headed towards the counter. "But didn't your dad 'message' you? Why aren't we going to Olympus?"

"I IM'ed Chiron when I went to the bathroom—"

"Classy."

"Shut up. Anyway, he said to go back to camp, then he can organise a quest, blah, blah, blah. Besides, I think he knows a bit about what my dad wants. Hi, can I have a—"

I tuned Josh out as he ordered and looked around. The coffee shop was busy, almost every table was full. Two older men sat by the window, holding hands; a business woman read the newspaper, students typed frantically on their laptops and a group of high school kids laughed around the two tables they'd pushed together. I got an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach . . . longing? They were laughing and flirting and pushing each other around. Normalcy would be nice every once and a while.

Y'know, it would be great not to be hunted down my mythological monsters for once.

"Here you go, Miss Jackson," the barista handed me my drink, his golden eyes sparkling.

"Thank-you," I said, taking the cup and stepping out of the shop with Josh. "On to camp?"

"On to camp," he nodded.

The cabbie groaned when I told him to take us up Long Island, but brightened up when Josh pulled out a few twenties.

It wasn't until we were deep into the New York traffic, that I, sipping my drink, turned to Josh.

"Hey, how did that barista know my name?"

. . . Ω . . .

"No, Ares. Not even magic will hold up your temple design."

Annabeth rolled her eyes as Ares glowered at the changes to the blueprint of his temple she has made. She doubted the war god would ever learn not to argue with the person renovating their sacred space. "If you have a problem, you're going to have to take it up with Hephaestus. I need to go."

"Fine," he grunted, pulling himself up from one of the chairs in Annabeth's temporary office on Olympus. It had been almost sixteen years since the Second Titan War, and still she was getting complaints about Olympus still being in 'disarray'. My temple's too small, his temple's too big; those trees don't complement my temple.

Annabeth watched his leave over the blueprint as she rolled it up. Filing it quickly in her 'Godly Temple Complaints' drawer (it was testament to the selfishness of the gods that there were enough complaints to warrant a drawer), she gathered her things and left the room.

She couldn't walk too fast, even though she wanted to. Against her will she was getting older, and age – coupled with recently recovering from being tortured atop a volcano – was taking its toll on the wise demi-god. Annabeth winced as she put too much weight on her left ankle and stumbled, dropping some of the blueprints she was helping. She knelt to the ground to pick them up, when a pair of flip-flops appeared in front of her.

"I'd help you pick them up, but then you'd yell at me and say you can do it yourself."

Annabeth collected the papers and stood. "The offer still would have been nice."

Percy smiled and walked alongside his ex-girlfriend as they wandered through the Olympus paths. The tension was thick between them, both walking apart from each other, both wary of getting too close to the other, in case they attacked – or worse – tried to talk about their feelings.

"It's much easier to get around after you designed it," said Percy, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, it is," Annabeth smiled.

"Such modesty."

"I don't have to be modest when I know it's true.

They both smiled and laughed, but then realised they weren't supposed to now and stopped immediately. A group of satyrs passed them; pointing and whispering to each other like a bunch of nereids.

"So . . ." Percy tried to cut the tension again. "How've you been, Annabeth?"

"Good, I guess," she said. "Well — as good as you can be after being volcano tortured. You?"

"Yeah, good, too. There was a shark that managed to get itself stuck in a net off Cuba and it took a while to calm him down enough to get him out and . . . yeah. How's Andy?"

Annabeth did a double-take at his question, but then mentally shook her head. She was his only daughter; of course he'd want to know how she was. "She's doing okay. I haven't seen her for the past week of the holidays. She's been staying at her friend Josh's house in Florida."

"Oh, she must love that," Percy smiled. "I love Florida. Actually, I was there a few months ago. I went to a wedding boutique and I saw this wedding dress that I though looked familiar. Here, I took a picture. See if you recognise it."

And just like that he broke the tension. Annabeth leant in to look at the picture Percy was pulling up on his phone. She instantly recognised the dress.

And burst into laughter.

"Grov—oh, poor Grover!"

Percy smiled, wide and unrestrained. "I know, right? I found Grover's wedding dress! The one where he—"

"Almost married Polyphemus!" Annabeth gasped for air in between her laughs. "That was so funny when we first saw him. But you think that's a good picture. I've got a better one." Pulling out her purse, Annabeth handed Percy the small slip of paper she pulled from it.

His face softened; his eyes twinkling in delight. "That's so adorable!"

Annabeth smiled and waved her hand when Percy tried to return Andy's baby picture. "No, it's okay, you keep it. I've got hundreds of adorable pictures of her."

"She's a lot like me, that way."

Annabeth entered the elevator and pressed the button for down. "Gods, I hope not, Seaweed Brain."

Percy's eyes stayed glued to the elevator doors as they shut, sending Annabeth down towards New York.

It'd been thirteen years since she'd called him Seaweed Brain.

. . . Ω . . .

"What's that?"

Percy looked up from the small piece of paper to his father. Poseidon stood (floated? Hovered? Percy still didn't know the correct way to say it) in the doorway to his son's room. "It's a—well, have a look."

Poseidon moved from the coral doorway to Percy, taking the paper. It had a bubble of air around it, as to not get it wet in the sea water. There seemed to be a lot of that in the ocean.

"She looks remarkably like you."

"Gods, I hope not," said Percy. "That'd make way too many people angry with her."

Poseidon chuckled. "I think most people will hate her for the name 'Jackson', rather than how much she physically resembles you. But, anyway, she does."

"Annabeth's hair. My eyes."

"Well, yes," said Poseidon. "But she's got your nose, and your jaw. Your stubbornness."

Percy laughed. "Tell me about it. Surely kids not all kids are that . . ."

"You were. You are." Poseidon laughed at his son's indignant huff. "It's very true, son. Parenting is difficult, no matter if you're a titan, god or mortal. Children will insist that they know what they're doing, that they don't need their parents help."

"But they do, they really do," Percy frowned. "I never resented mom—"

"Didn't you? Even as she insisted you go to a strange summer camp? As she drove you to and from quests? You never once did you wish your mother wasn't there, or wasn't doing something for you."

Percy sighed.

"Exactly."

"But what can I do, dad? I want to be there for her, desperately. But Annabeth still kinda hates me and I'm talking with Andy now, but she's still in danger. She's always going to be in danger because of me."

Poseidon put a hand on his son's shoulder. "We have to be there for them, whether they know it or not. We have to be behind them, ready to catch them if they fall. And once they've fallen enough times, they might just fly."

"Thanks, dad."

"You're welcome, son."

Poseidon stood up and moved towards the door. Percy called to him. "Hey, dad? How many times did you have to catch me?"

The sea god's eyes twinkled. "I was always there for you, Percy, watching over you. Whether you knew it or not."

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Like it? Hate it? Review it!

I'm trying to write out most of the story before updating next. So the next chapter should be (maybe) edited better! That would be nice.

See you at the next update,
~Emily