Okay, this thought came to me randomly, like, at eleven one night a long time ago. It's almost like Sally's point of view of Apples. Oh, and I feel stupid for calling it a sequel, when it can better be called a companion fic; this just goes into a deeper understanding, I guess. And it might've been I was super tired when I wrote the A/N for the last chapter of Apples.

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I DO NOT OWN.

Come with Change, Leave the Same

Sally Jackson's POV

Sally Jackson was sitting in her living room on her favorite rocking chair, completely broken and stressed for her seven year-old son's safety, but still having hope; he had left a note saying he would return, maybe even for Christmas, and today was Christmas.

But it was noon, and he had yet to return. She stared out the window, at the blizzard that had been plaguing the area for days, and her heart lost another piece. There was no way he could travel through that. He'd be frozen to death.

But, he did always love snow. He loved to play in it, throw it in the air and melt it between his fingers, lay in it and create from it. And watching it, completely still and clean and clear, nothing having ruined the image. He could stare it for hours, admiring its unaffected beauty. Nothing could keep him from that.

Sally glanced out the window one last time before she bundled herself up and stepped out her room. She took the stairs one at a time, for she was anxious to see if her son was outside, but also nervous for the heartbreak she might get if he wasn't, which was more likely. Slowly, carefully, she entered the lobby, remembering to give the manager a death glare for letting her son leave. Sally stared out the clear entrance doors. The snow was pounding them, splattering all over.

No sane being would be out there. It was suicidal.

She sighed and walked up to the doors, placing her hand on them, feeling the chill from the snow. "Where are you?" she murmured, taking her freezing hand off the glass. Then, Sally saw something, or rather, someone, outside through the small hole she made from erasing the fog. Her eyes widened, and not thinking, she pushed open the door and rushed outside.

There squatting on the sidewalk was a small boy, wearing only a thin gray zip-up jacket that he didn't bother to close, a gray knit beanie, sunglasses, jeans with holes in them, and tennis shoes. He wore no gloves or boots or heavy winter jacket. He acted as if he were immune to the freezing temperatures, with his casual warm weather clothes.

Sally knew on sight who he was, no matter the time she hadn't seen him.

She bent down and scooped her son into a death-like squeeze she called a hug. "Percy," she cried. "Percy, Percy, Percy."

"Hey Mom, long time no see." He winced slightly at his words. Sally didn't know why, nor did she truly care at the moment. Her son came back, and that's all that mattered.

She kissed his forehead and pulled him up from the snow-covered ground. Percy had a handful of snow clumped together in his hand as he stood, his hand turning red from the cold. She laughed quietly at his actions. "Percy, honey, put that down before you freeze your hand off."

The ends of Percy's lips curved downward, barely noticeable to anyone but a mother. "But I want to see the snow," he complained.

Sally did not understand this, like how she did not understand why he was wearing sunglasses in the middle of winter. "Sweetheart, what do you mean?"

Percy released the snow onto the ground and turned to her. "Mom, describe the snow." She was confused, and it must have been written all over her face. "Tell me what you see, what it's like," Percy continued. "What do you see?"

"Ummm… okay. Whatever you say, Percy." She stared out at the snow, and found she could not find a way to describe it. It was too… white. Snow was falling everywhere and it made seeing difficult. "Well, honey," she started anyway. "It's white. Snow is falling all over the place, on the cars, the street, the buildings. It's sorta hard to tell what there is."

Now Percy's lips turned completely downward. "You want to be an author, right? Describe it like you would in a book."

Sally stared at her son, utterly bewildered because he was standing out in the cold, seemingly unaffected, and was insisting that she describe what she saw, not even moving to go inside to the warmth.

"Percy…" She saw his face and trailed off, not knowing what was going on. Maybe he was getting hyperthermia? "Let's just go inside, and I'll describe it to you there."

Percy gave one last look at the snow before being led inside by Sally. "Okay, we'll do that. But you still have to tell me. Promise."

They were inside now, inside the safety of the lobby, and she had whirled at the persistence of her son wanting her to describe snow, something he had seen billions of times. She bit the inside of her cheek. "Okay. I'll make sure to do that."

He nodded and walked off to the stairs, obviously not wanting to use the elevator. Sally followed him, after doing her usual glare at the manager, who had not looked up from the computer screen, taking two steps at a time. By the time she got to the top of the stairs, she was panting, but she couldn't stop because her son was already gliding through the hall, dragging his fingers against the wall, not even a single heavy breath escaping his lips. She picked up her pace and stopped behind him when he opened the door to their apartment.

"How—" she froze when Percy sheepishly held out her room key.

"I knew you'd be behind me, and I wanted to get here as fast as I could. I took them from your pocket when we hugged." He placed it in her hand. "Sorry for not asking. Force of habit." He peeked inside. "Gabe isn't here, is he?"

Sally ushered her son inside. "No, no, he went to go spend Christmas with his niece." She tugged off her heavy winter coat and shook the snow from herself, watching Percy make his way to the couch, dragging his fingers against its surface.

When did he start doing that?

She ignored the question and went to go sit with her son on the couch. Taking his frozen hands in hers, she started bombarding him with questions—mainly, why. "Why did you leave, Percy?" she asked.

Percy shrugged insignificantly, adjusting his beanie and sunglasses. "I needed to."

"No, you didn't," she argued.

He pursed his lips. "Yeah, I kinda did. It was all so… so, sad, to put in simple terms. It wasn't helping my condition—at all—and… leaving, exploring… it gave me time to think, figure things out, get ahold of myself."

"Then why didn't you come to me?" She gently shook her son's warming hands.

He cocked his head to the side. "You were busy, mourning, over her and me."

Now, she was confused. "What—what do you mean?"

"You think she's gone, deceased, dead. Me, I was lost in my own world, doomed to be sent away." He shrugged. "It's simple." He stood up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing an apple without ever turning his head from her. "We were both lost to you. Not within reach."

Sally couldn't help but notice her son's way of viewing things, how he was so ingenious. Even she hadn't realized that, and he, a seven year-old child, had. All she could do was nod her head in understanding, though she doubted she fully understood what he was saying.

Percy tossed the apple in the air before catching it. "Mail's here." He went toward the door. "Don't worry. I'll get it."

She hadn't even begun to comprehend what he had said when a loud knock came from the door. Percy swung the door open for the manager, bored looking and holding a small rectangular box, plain and brown. "Delivery for Sally Jackson," he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Merry Christmas."

Sally, without her knowing, had made her way up front, now holding the door. "I didn't think they made deliveries on Christmas."

The manager stared at her. "They don't," he said simply. "I got this weeks ago, and had to wait till today to deliver it."

"Oh, okay." She handed him a tip. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

Before he walked out the door, he noticed Percy for the first time. "Hey, you're back."

"Glad you noticed," Percy sneered. "Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. Good bye."

"Weren't you missing?"

"Nooo… I've just been locked up in my room, hidin' from the authorities, not goin' to school, not eatin' or drinkin' an ounce, like a pers'n frozen in time. Just livin' the dream, I tell ya. Livin' the dream." Practically becoming sarcasm, Percy started fingering a chain around his belt line that Sally had not seen.

"Hey, hey, hey, no need for the attitude, buddy. I was just asking a question." The manager held up his arms in surrender, like we just lost a war of witty remarks, which he had.

Percy turned his head to the side, muttering to himself, though Sally could hear. "Like how you're 'bout to ask me for a little 'guy secret' tip."

What?

Before she could ask what he meant, the manger got down on his haunches and lightly punched Percy in the chest. "What about a little Christmas tip from you, huh? A little dollar or two?"

She was about to go on an all-out rampage on him, but Percy blocked her from passing through the door with his right arm, using his left to dig out some money. "Percy," she started. "You don't have to give him any money. Just come inside."

"No, no, it's okay, Mom. I got lots of money." He nodded toward the manager. "Gimme a minute, will ya?" Percy dug out a brown leather wallet from a pocket on the inside of his jacket. "Okay, here it is. One wallet stashed with money comin' up." He tossed it to the manager, who caught it with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hmmm…" The manager opened the wallet and pulled out two credit cards and a debit card along with his cash; his eyes widened. "What is this?"

"Oh." Percy's eyebrows rose, and he dug into his pocket once again, only this time, he pulled out another brown leather wallet. "I must have given you the wrong wallet instead of yours, which I… borrowed when you were in the lobby. Silly me."

"Whose wallet is this then?" He held it away from his face like it was a lit case of TNT.

"Oh. Nobody's, really. I just nabbed it from some police officer in Florida. Used it a bit, too. You wouldn't believe how much money is on those things. Unlimited, I think." Percy pulled a camera from behind his back and snapped a picture of the manager holding the wallet in one hand and the cards in the other. "I bought so much stuff," he continued, "lots and lots of stuff. And you wanna know some'in'?" Percy pulled down the camera and waved it with a smug grin. "I now have proof that you held stolen property." He pointed out the door. "So beat it, before I turn you in."

The manger dropped the wallet and sprinted away like his life depended on it. Percy chuckled and closed the door. He lazily walked to the couch and fell on top of it, waving around the two wallets slowly in the air.

Sally was horrified. Had her son just blackmailed someone? And did he really steal?

Percy sat up. "I know what 'cha thinkin', and it ain't like that." He slid off the couch and started for her. "I wasn't gonna turn 'im in, 'cause that'd get me arrested instead of him. And the stealing part? I never used the cards, never even touched them, and I returned most of the money. I only kept, like, five bucks for food. It wasn't even from Florida."

"Oh, okay." It was not really okay for Sally, but she knew he only did it so he could survive. "What about the accent?" It hadn't slid by Sally the strange way her son was speaking, ignoring the G's at the end of words, saying 'im instead of 'him', and using the word 'ain't.'

"Oh, sorry." A faint pink color tinged her son's cheeks. "People sorta expected it of me back in Alabama, you know, so I'd fit in. New York doesn't exactly fit in there, especially in the deep south part Alabama I was in." He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

Alabama? That is where her son has been?

She shook her head, knowing she would never thoroughly understand—ever—and simply went and grabbed a tray of cookies and brought them back to the couch for her and her son.

"COOKIES!" Percy snatched up a cookie and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.

After that, they began talking and joking around, like before. They talked about school, and which one he was going to go to, since he was going to stay; they talked about better times, and joked about Percy's silly mistakes and the ones he was bound to make. Percy even got to open some Christmas presents that she had stashed underneath the tree, just in case. Everything was perfect—for that moment, and all the while, Percy was stuffing blue cookie after blue cookie into his mouth.

Sally had to admit, she was pretty happy that Percy wanted cookies; he hadn't wanted to eat anything before he… left. A truck load of pain suddenly overcame her, and it was all she could do not to burst out in tears. He was so… different. In less than a year, her baby boy had completely and utterly changed. Nothing was the same, not even his looks—the sunglasses, chain, and ripped jeans was nothing like what he used to wear. And how he held himself… Percy had always had this deep understanding of the world that Sally did not get, like he had seen it all already, but it never affected him; he was still happy, a happy little innocent boy. But now—he had this aura of sadness and secretiveness, like he had faced something only terrible things could bring, like he was thousands upon thousands of years old.

Percy scrunched up his eyebrows and scooted closer to her, wiping off cookie crumbs. "What's wrong, Mom?"

She sniffled. She just wanted something to be the same. One little thing would be enough. Sally stared at her son, taking in every little detail, and found herself looking more and more at those stupid sunglasses, blocking her from seeing his sea-green eyes. Those eyes had to be the same, right? They had to be.

Her son clutched her hands. "Is there anything I can do?" Without thinking, he began to nibble on a blue cookie.

Sally again stared at those blasted sunglasses, and the words tumbled out: "Let me see your eyes. Please."

He jerked back. "What?" His voice reached an octave higher and he began shaking his head back and forth.

"Please," she begged. "I want to see something—"

"—the same. Yeah, I guessed that was it." Percy sighed and sat back, scrubbing his face roughly with his hands.

Sally leaned forward. "Please." She reached out and tapped the top of the sunglasses.

Again, Percy jerked back. "Mom, they're not… exactly… the same. I... don't think you'll… like it."

"Nonsense." She rudely grabbed the sunglasses, holding them back so her son couldn't reach them. "See."

"No, no, I don't see." He waved his hands in the air, his beautiful sea-green eyes darting this way and that.

"Percy." Sally was growing exasperated. "Please, look me in the eyes." She was desperate, and Percy had asked if there was anything he could do. Looking her in the eyes wasn't difficult at all, was it?

"No Mom." His voice shook. "I can't." He pulled her hands away from underneath his chin, and expertly reached behind her and took back his sunglasses. "I'm sorry, but that's one thing I can't do." He did not put the sunglasses on, but placed them in his lap. "Choose something else."

Sally felt a temper she never knew she had flare, but kept her cool. "What do you mean? All I want is for you to look me in the eyes."

"That's the thing, Mom." He turned to face her, and she swore, even with what he said, that he looked her in the eyes. "I'm blind, Mom. I can't see."

That is when the world came crashing down on Sally Jackson, because, even though her son came, he came with change.

0o0o0o0o0o

Sally was sitting in her favorite rocking chair again, rocking back and forth, back and forth. She had work off today and Gabe was sleeping, leaving her with time to think.

Percy had just gotten expelled from school—for skipping it, to boot. She knew he had skipped school before. He had come home for a day the one time she knew, coming from miles away—by foot. He had not taken a taxi or subway, saying he needed the exercise.

"And the freedom," he had mumbled to himself, kicking a beer can to the side.

She hadn't known what to say, still didn't. Her son was a mover—he moved all around, looking for… something… She did not know what, but he couldn't stay in one place for long. At first she had been worried about his… father's side of him, but he was still hidden from that; he still thought they were myths.

Now Sally was holding the signed sheet of paper that said her son would not be invited to his school next year for, one: skipping school, two: getting into fights when he was there, and three: giving attitude to his teachers, when he was there.

She had guessed that he would get into a few fights, maybe even give some attitude, but the skipping school part was what worried her. Where could he possibly go? She only knew of one time that he had skipped school, when he had snuck in at the dead of night through a window. She didn't know how he had, because he was blind—though it was hard to believe, with how independent he was; she still had to remind herself sometimes, like when he would ask her to read a sign or ask if there was anything on the floor he could trip on.

But that night he had seemed perfectly capable of seeing… Sally couldn't help but remember it.

XxXx

Sally was up for a cup of late-night tea. Her stomach was churning, her mother instincts kicking in. The day before, she had received a call from Percy's school's counselor, who had been slightly worried for her son, as well as agitated with him. She didn't know why, because Percy could take care of himself, and he was smart, though his grades were always so low. It didn't make sense, with the way he spoke, his vocabulary, and how he caught onto things so easily, his ability to "see" what others couldn't.

He had also seemed to mellow a bit, like he understood people didn't know this, that he was above average in some categories, even with his dyslexia, ADHD, and the fact that he was completely blind. He did not seem like he would start too many fights when he left, and she had managed to get him to lower down on his "tough guy that must survive" attitude. She did not know what could possibly be wrong.

But that changed with that phone call that had happened the night before, about how he kept so much to himself that it worried people, how he was bitter to people.

It was late at night, and even though that phone call was still rattling throughout her head, she needed to get to bed. Something was wrong at school; she knew that for a fact. The main indicator was when she got Percy's report card—nothing higher than a C-. He was smarter than that, she knew.

She rubbed at her temples and was getting ready to head to bed when she heard a small, almost nonexistent creak. Immediately, she froze, her hand inching for a weapon, or anything at all. Sally had raised Percy with monsters on their trail and had faced them before; she wasn't going to let one invade her house—ever.

She snuck her way to the source of the noise, gliding carefully and silently. The noise was coming from the window, and someone seemed to be breaking in. How could someone climb all the way up to her room? She shook her head and scooted even closer to the window, edging her way like there was an invisible force holding her back. Whoever that was looked familiar. Too familiar.

"Oof." The person, a young boy with sunglasses propped up onto his nose, fell into the room. He quickly scrambled up and held his head. "Ow," he had whined. "That hurt."

Sally had shot forward and grabbed the young boy, holding him close. "Percy," she murmured. "What are you doing here?" She held him back so she could see his face—well, what part of his face was visible.

Percy huffed and crossed his arms. "I don't like school and came back. That's what I did."

"Percy, you can't just do that. School is good," Sally scolded softly; her heart was not really in it.

He shrugged. "Can I still stay here?" he asked, a hopeful spark in his tone. "Please?"

She winced at his question. "Honey, I wish you could. I really do, but you have to go to school." He immediately soured. He wrinkled one side of his nose, but besides that, there really was no other source to show his bitterness—just that the air around him seemed to radiate it. "Okay," Sally continued. "You can stay for the night"—Percy smiled at that—"but I'm taking you right back in the morning." His smile wavered, but never disappeared.

"Fine." He waved to the ground. "But you still gotta tell me if there's anythin' around on the ground. I don't wanna trip."

Sally smiled slightly and took his hand, bringing him to the couch. There, they slept soundly and peacefully, and in the morning Sally had taken him back to school.

All the while, she had been wondering how her son had even managed to get home.

XxXx

Sally got a call from the school a week later. They were saying that Percy was skipping school again, so the principle and counselor had gone to his room to have a talk with him.

But he wasn't there. There was only a small sheet of paper, yellow-brown and crinkled, with words scribbled on them.

I'll be fine.

Don't worry about me.

The school was also missing some supplies, like food and water bottles. Sally had hung up after they had said that, saying that she had something important to do. She walked to her favorite rocking chair. She didn't want to see it, but she knew she would.

And she did—there, on the rocking chair, was a small note and a single blue rose. She carefully held the seemingly old, withering paper.

Sorry I left, but I just did not like it at the school.

I knew you would want to know I'm safe, and I am.

I left a blue rose for you, too.

See?

And don't worry about me.

I'll be fine, careful.

I can take care of myself.

I love you, and I'll be home in time for Christmas, as always.

Maybe I'll even come for my birthday.

Your son,

Percy Jackson

Sally was crying by the time she finished the short message, holding the blue rose tightly to her chest. When she finally gave her last sniffle, she examined the single, delicate rose. On it was another small piece of paper, but this one was for when people write who they are sending the flower to. She held the paper close, and squinting, noticed faint, almost invisible words.

I came different, and yet I leave the same.

Funny how that works, huh?

She sat down heavily on her rocking chair, which squeaked under her weight.

Her son was different, barely even her son anymore.

But he was, and he always would be.

She cried again, not only because her only son left, but because it finally hit her, that nothing would be the same, that he was changed.

What happened?

These posts will happen whenever I can manage, so there will probably be big gaps in between them.

Review and favorite and follow and stuff.

Peace and all that other stuff.

~XxxXGreek GeekXxxX