This is a story about Sally learning about Percy's trip to Ogygia. One shot. Rated Kplus for heart-break and emotional Percy. Please Read and Review.
Percy was fine the last month when he got home. He was fine during is birthday party. But the past few weeks he just looks so tired. Worn out. Upset. Angry. Depressed.
Yes. That was the word. Depressed. Something had happened over the summer. I know he went on another quest. He went missing for two weeks as well. But something different happened. Something changed him.
I hadn't heard much about the quest. Most of what I know came from Grover, Tyson, and Rachel. Annabeth finally got to lead a quest. They went into the Labyrinth. They found the creator, Daedalus, and the lost god, Pan. Both of which died. The Labyrinth was destroyed also. Percy caused . Helens to erupt. Then he went missing. Now he and Annabeth are fighting. That's about all I know. Nobody went into exact details.
I'd say Percy seemed crushed, but crushedseems too weak a word. Something stronger than that, but I can't name it. I leave it at crushed. He's been attached to this shirt and this flower. The shirt is a simple cotton white long sleeve. It seems so special to him. Like a memory.
The first incident was maybe a week after his birthday. One of his mortal friends, Rachel Dare, needed a place to stay for the night while her parents went on a vacation. She forgot her pajamas and asked Percy if she could borrow a shirt and sweatpants. He nodded, and continued to help me set the table. When Rachel came back, she was wearing a old ratty pair of black sweats, and the cotton shirt. When Percy saw it, he looked like he wanted to cry. "Please," he said. "Any shirt but that one." Rachel looked at him worriedly. Then they came to a silent understanding. "Oh, this is the shirt that she-" she asked. Percy nodded. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't realize." She left to change again. She came back wearing a old Yancy Academy shirt. The cotton shirt was folded in her hands, and she handed it to Percy. She apologized again. Percy accepted it, and took the cotton shirt. He held tight, like a toddler would a teddy bear. We sat down at the table. Percy picked at his chicken and blue potatoes, the shirt never left his lap. I looked at Rachel, silently asking what was going on. She looked at Percy. Concerned. She made a I'll tell you later gesture. But we never got around to it.
The next incident was about three weeks after. I went through his room to get his dirty laundry Percy was in the shower, so I figured I had twenty minutes before he was done. I walked around, tossing his dirty clothes into the hamper, which was a hard task. He never folds his clothes, and there's never room in his dresser. Some jeans, a few camp shirts, his Goode swim team sweatshirt. I manage to reach his dresser without tripping. I pick up the mountain of denim and socks by the bottom drawer. While standing, I notice the shirt. It's neatly folded and sitting on top of his dresser. I quickly dump the mound in my arms into the basket and go back. I debate if i should wash it or not. He's been wearing it to bed a lot lately, it could use a washing. But he's been so protective of it. Deciding it should get a rinse cycle, I set it on the hamper and pick it up. As I'm leaving his room, he leaves the bathroom, a towel around his waist. He sees the shirt on top and pulls it off. I try to convince him to let me wash it. But he won't let me. "Percy, it's been nearly a month since you've gotten it, and you've never washed it." He just shakes his head and walks past me, shirt in hand. I turn and look at him. He doesn't know I'm watching, and I catch him inhale it. Like it has a special scent. Later that night, I confirm my suspicions. It smells faintly like cinnamon, but it's fading. It's getting overtaken by the smell of the sea. He let's me wash it a week later, once the smell of the spice has finally vanished.
Percy's never really cared for petty things like flowers. But this flower is beautiful. He calls it moonlace. It's has silver petals that seem to glow at night. He takes better care of it than I ever did with my plants. He's given it a special place. The flower box outside his bedroom window. Sometimes I catch him, sitting at his desk. He stares at it with some sort of longing. I notice he waters it with nectar. It must be a magical flower. I don't question it though. It makes him upset.
Once, I moved the flower to the kitchen so it could get more light. He freaked. Told me it's not suppose to get a lot of sun. I give it back and put it in his room. I apologize "You could have killed it." He said. I apologize again. I tell him he could always go back to get more. His face gets sadder. "No I can't." he says quietly, his voice cracking. "I can never go back." "Why not?" He looks at me. He looks at me and sighs. "The Fates are cruel. Let's leave it at that." He turns and leaves, muttering in Greek.
I'm watching him now. He's sitting at his desk. The cotton cushioning his chin. Staring at the glowing moonlace. I can almost imagine tears on his face. "Percy." I say quietly. He turns. "Yeah mom?" "Are you okay sweetie?" He turns back around. "Yeah." he says quietly. I look at him, leaning against his door frame. "No you're not." I say. He doesn't respond. Just moves some hair behind his ear. "I'm always here if you want to talk." He nods. I leave.
I'm lying in bed. Reading. The left side empty. Paul's visiting his parents in Queens. I here a knock on the door. "Come in." Percy walks in. He's wearing the cotton. He takes a seat on Paul's side, leaning against the headboard. He pulls his knees to his chest, and hugs his legs. "Are you okay?" he shakes his head. "Want to talk about it?" he nods, but doesn't say anything. Percy wanting to talk about it generally means I ask yes or no questions, he nods and shakes his head, until I figure out what's going on. "Girl trouble?" he nods, but is still silent. "Annabeth?" He shakes his head. "Rachel?" I ask warily. He shakes his head again. I can't think of anymore girls that he could be having trouble with. There's Thalia, but their like siblings. "Did something happen the two weeks you were missing?" He hesitates, then nods. "You met someone?" he takes a shaky breath and nods. Part of me wants to cry because my baby boy is growing up so fast. But he's so broken. I continue. "So, where did you meet her?" I ask.
He doesn't speak for minute. He looks uncomfortable trying to talk about it. I don't blame him. He's never been one for showing his feelings. He had to grow up with Gabe. If he showed one emotion that was soft, Gabe would laugh and make fun of him. Call him a baby. If he showed his anger, Gabe would beat him. So he learned to bury his feelings. But the dirt has been hardened. He can't dig them up easily.
He finally speaks so quietly, it's barely a whisper. "Ogygia." I gasp. That's Calypso's island. I wrap my arms around him. He continues hugging his legs, but he raised his chin from his knees to my shoulder. I feel warm droplets seep through my shirt. Percy's crying. He hasn't cried since he was six. "I miss her." he whispers into my shoulder. "I know sweetie. I know." A part of me registers that Calypso is famous for seducing and sleeping with Odysseus. I push that thought down.
This breaks my heart. He reminds me of me after Poseidon had to leave me, only worse. I had the chance to stay with my first love. I declined, but I still get see him from time to time. I had Percy. He probably had the chance to stay with her. Immortal forever on her island. He declined, and now he'll never see her again. He had nothing from her. Unless, "The shirt and moonlace?" He nodded. So that's why he's so attached to those.
We sit like this for sometime. He's still cries. I do my best to comfort him. Percy's not depressed. He's not crushed. He's brokenhearted.
I finally pull away. "You want to just sit, or do you want to tell me about it?" He shrugs. "I think talking might help." He says. I can tell he doesn't know where to begin, so I jump start him.
"What was she like?" He thought for a minute. "She was pretty, caring, down to earth. But she was also shy. She never managed to get angry with the Olympians for trapping her there. She was just so, nice." He was smiling, though his eyes were still rimmed with tears. "She had caramel colored hair, and almond shaped eyes. She always smelled like cinnamon." "You really loved her." I comment. He nods. "Yeah. I did." "So, why'd you leave?" He sighs a little. "Because I had to. There were too many people here that I care about. I didn't want to force the burden onto Nico, camp was expecting an attack, and someone has to keep Paul from hurting you." He smiles sarcastically, still crying a little. I laugh. "You know, all this loyalty is going to get you killed, right?" His grin widens a little. "That's what I've been told."
I check the clock. One in the morning. "Are you feeling better?" I ask. he nods. "A little bit. Yeah." "You can sleep in here if you want." He shakes his head. "No, it's fine. I think I just needed to talk." I smile. "Okay honey." I put my book down and reach over to turn off my lamp. "Mom." "Yes sweetie?" He leans down and hugs me. "Thank you." I return the hug. "Your welcome." He leaves, shutting my door on the way out. I turn out my light and go to sleep.
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