Our Children the Heroes
Sally was resting her eyes on her sleeping son.
He was about a year old now. Today had been his first birthday. She had given him a Mickey Mouse teddy for his birthday. He was clutching it in his tiny little hands right now.
She took out the instant camera and took it quietly, trying not to wake him up. When the photo came out, she took it out of the camera and shook it in the air quickly.
She smiled as the photo came out perfectly. She put it in an empty slot in the photo book that already had quite a few photos.
She went back at staring at her sweet baby boy, sleeping peacefully.
And just like that, she couldn't help the tears coming.
It just wasn't fair. Her little one, so small, would grow up to have a hard life. The dangers that were now starting to show up. Just today she had seen more than half a dozen suspicious "people" inspecting the apartment complex she and Percy lived in.
They had especially stared at her deliciously. Not because of her. There was nothing special about her. It was her son's scent. For all the hours she was with him, his scent hung on to her. Thus, causing the monsters to look at her suspiciously (and deliciously; such disgusting creatures)
One year old, and his scent was already very powerful.
She'd need to do something about that. She knew human scent could mask demigod scent, particularly disgusting humans, but to mask Percy's special scent, she'd have to find someone especially disgusting.
She reached her hand and caressed her son's hair. It felt exactly the same as when she caressed Poseidon's.
That thought made her blush.
After a while, she stood and prepared to get to bed.
She's asleep now.
He swept down across the winds of the Upper East Side.
He willed the window doors to open before him.
No one could see him. He was sea wind now.
He willed to change into his mortal form.
He was a dark-haired, green-eyed, tan-bleached man. Considering how much the baby in front of him looked like him, any random mortal could see this and think it was just any man seeing his soon.
Oh, if only it was that simple.
He walked up and met his son, one-year-old now. He looked at the crib he was sleeping and snapped his fingers. A baby crib mobile was now on the nursery. It was with a pegasus, a hippocampus, a smiling seashell, and a plushy soft trident.
The baby woke up.
He should've known. He was his son. If anyone would notice his presence, it would be him, even if he was still a baby.
Sea-green met sea-green.
The baby smiled at him and giggled.
Hesitantly, he approached his hand to the boy's forehead.
The boy's hand reached in and grabbed his index finger. He smiled and giggled again.
Poseidon smiled warmly at Percy.
It was at that moment that a light that wasn't from him that emerged from the middle of the room. It was shining brightly.
He stepped in front of Percy and summoned his trident.
The door opened to reveal Sally.
"P-P-Poseidon?" Sally asked. "What're you—"
"Get behind me, Sally!" Poseidon yelled. "Something is after Percy!"
She looked at the sphere of light and yelped. She immediately ran to Poseidon.
She stood next to him, both trying to protect their child.
The light expanded around the room, and just as quick as that, vanished. Taking the family with them.
"Dad!" little Grover ran up to him and hugged him. "Don't go! I don't want you to go!"
"Elm!" he called up to his wife. "I thought you'd already told him."
"Sorry, Garriot." Elm, a tree nymph, grabbed his son and started pulling him away from his father.
"No, it's okay, dear," Garriot, a black-haired middle-aged satyr said calmly, pulling back his wife from Grover and hugging them both. "Our son needs this."
He knelt on one knee and hugged his son. "I must go, Grover. To find Pan."
"But you'll die!" Grover cried, "No searcher ever comes back!"
Garriet smiled. "I will come back, son, I promise."
Grover sniffed. "What if you don't come back? What if you don't find him?"
"I'll come back, young Grove. I'll find the Lord of the Wild. I have to believe that, son. Every searcher must always believe he will find Pan and return alive. It's what keeps us going. Don't you ever forget that, Grover, do you understand?"
"Y-yes," he stammered.
"Sorry?"
"I mean, yes, Dad."
He hugged him again. Then he reached to his pocket and took out newly made reed pipes.
"This is for you," Garriet gave them to Grover. "I made this for you. As satyrs, our music is respondent to nature magic. It may be what keeps you alive."
"Garriet, what's the hold up?" another satyr came up from the biggest hill in Long Island Sound, with no name.
"In a moment, Ferdinand," Garriet said, holding his crying wife and son Elm and Grover in his arms.
"Take your time, brother," Ferdinand murmured. "There is not much hurry . . ."
Just then another source of light other than the sun showed in front of the satyrs and tree dryad. All four looked at it in shock for a moment, then it maximized, absorbed them, then vanished with them.
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"Sorry doesn't cut it." Helen hissed.
"I can't help it!" Annabeth cried.
"Those things almost killed your brothers!" Helen yelled.
"They're not my brothers . . ." Annabeth murmured.
"What was that?!"
"THEY'RE NOT MY BROTHERS!"
Annabeth ran all the way up to her room and slammed it shut.
Helen looked at her husband. "Can you believe her?"
Frederick shook his head. "No."
The married couple headed upstairs, but not to see Annabeth. To see their twin sons, playing with their LEGO toys, in their room next to hers'. They lied in the carpet floor, to see them play.
"She's always threatening us." Helen said as she gave Bobby a LEGO figure.
"You're right. If only her scent wasn't so strong." Frederick cursed.
"Something needs to change," Helen said.
"What do you suggest?"
"Send her off to boarding school."
Frederick looked at her.
"What? It's not a bad idea. She can still go to school, and she won't be endangering us in case another monster attacks."
Frederick considered it. "I'll think about it."
"What's there to think about, Frederick? She's a girl with problems. Maybe if we send her off to the strictest school there is, she'll finally grow up and stop putting her family at risk."
"Helen, you know I agree with you, but it's not like it's in her control. Athena told me—"
"Oh, Athena. And I suppose you're going to listen to her rather than your wife? What makes her smarter than me?"
"Aside from the fact that she's the wisdom goddess? She's Annabeth's biological mom. She may not be here, but she definitely knows more about Annabeth than both of us combined."
"The least she could do was send a child-support check . . ." Helen muttered bitterly.
"Honey, gods can't—"
"Interfere directly, I know," Helen said. "You told me. But, Frederick, you once told me Annabeth was born out of Athena's intelligence and your ingenuity. Couldn't she at least, you know, give you a heads-up? Did she even get your consent for her to create a child from you and her?"
"Well, no, but—"
"Then that settles it! She needs to go, Frederick, at this point I don't even care where, but she needs to go!"
Frederick was about to respond to that, but suddenly between the two babies appeared a ball of light.
The parents immediately stood up.
"What is that?!" Helen asked.
"Annabeth!" Frederick shouted.
Too late. The ball grew in size over the room, and engulfed the family, minus Annabeth.