Come Home
Disclaimer: Me Mai Ascot. Me no own. Rick Riordan own.
AN: I just needed to let my gears turn in my head for a bit, massage my temples, and BAM! This came to me. Hope you like it.
Extra: I made special care NOT to mention Percy's name, but it's kind of obvious who she's talking about.
...
Sally was just sitting on the bed.
It wasn't even hers.
It was his.
It was straight, and Sally bitterly wished it wasn't, that she could have a little bit of his presence left with her, but she had straightened it the day he had left for camp.
That had been four months ago.
Sally was just sitting on the bed.
She hadn't really done much, and her book was unfinished, sitting in one of the many layers of her laptop, untapped.
Her eyes were puffy red from crying, bags weighing down her face ten years. Her hair was undecided, some of it sticking to her face and the nape of her neck, some fanning out as if she had a clowns wig on. Her face was pale, chalky, as if she had spent the day covering it in white dust that had integrated into her skin.
She would never be confused as beautiful now.
Sally was just sitting on the bed.
Her fingers were laced together, they were so thin they couldn't be described as healthy. She had lost more weight than she knew she had, and now was so thin she had often compared herself to a skeleton when she could make herself get up in the morning and look in the mirror.
Paul had been brilliant. He was upset as well, but he just didn't understand, just didn't get it, he didn't know what it was like, although he was the one thing she was living for nowadays, and the hope that he would come home.
For years it had been just her and him, her little boy getting bigger and bigger, stronger and handsomer. His baby blue eyes turning sea green, just as she knew they would. His little tufts of wispy hair turning into thick black hair just like his father's, later acquiring a streak of grey.
His hands, once pudgy, now calloused and long. His voice, once just saying mama, now singing and moaning and exclaiming and laughing a deep rich sound that came from the core of her chest.
Sally was just sitting on the bed.
When she had first had him, knowing that he was forbidden, a mistake, she had taken one look at him and decided that he was the most beautiful forbidden mistake she had ever seen. She had stayed up, watching him as he slept, watching the windows and the doors, making sure that nobody would take him away from her.
It was a little obsessive, a little mad, but necessary. Nobody had ever dared come near, or maybe they didn't know. But they must've known, as snakes and Cyclopes don't come out of nowhere, as much as she wished they did.
Sally was just sitting on the bed.
A little nagging voice in the back of her mind said why would he ever come back? He never saw this as home. Maybe he'll never ever ever ever ever ever come home? And where'll you be then?
Sally tried to push the voice out of her head but it came back stronger than ever.
Maybe he can't even-
Sally was sitting on the bed crying, thinking, begging to her son who was gods knows where, Come home.
Please, come home.