I own nothing except the mistakes made here. Hope you enjoy.

Charlie rolled her shoulders to try and loosen the tension that had gathered there. The journey had not been the most difficult of her life, indeed she had a number of quests under her belt that had taken longer and left her with more than the few scraps and bruises she was currently sporting, and this one even came with a guide.

"Watch your head," Nico di Angelo rumbled ahead of her in the hazy darkness as she ducked to avoid the dip in the ceiling of the tunnel.

"Are we there yet?" she huffed, brushing dirty blonde hair out of her face.

Nico snickered but didn't respond as he continued to carefully picked his way down.

Charlie glared darkly at his back but did not attempt any more conversation. When a prophecy sends you to the Underworld you could do a lot worse than to follow the footfalls of the only son of Hades, but he was hardly her first choice when it came to a quest-mate. He was sullen and unfocused and just because he was an adult and she was only fourteen he refused to listen to her and her plans even though it was her quest and her prophecy and her -

Her heel slipped on some loose gravel and she slammed the brakes on that train of thought, forcing herself to refocus on her footing as her hand shot out to the rock wall to steady herself. She wasn't afraid of the dark and small spaces had never made her nervous, but there were plenty of creepy-crawlies that liked to hide in dark, small spaces that had a poor history with her family and she would just be happier when she was somewhere she could breath. Somewhere she could draw a proper weapon. She looked up once she felt stable and was grateful for the hazy otherworldly light up ahead that signaled the end of this part of the journey.

With a whoosh of cold air they exited the mouth of the tunnel and she glanced around herself at the dark, desolate place spread out as far as the eye could see. How many stories had she heard about this place? How many times had her mother warned her? How many times had she thought-

"This way," Nico grunted, jutting his chin out to indicate the direction just passed the large building she assumed was the Judgement Pavilion. They started on a barely worn path in silence, Charlie too lost in her thoughts to adequately take in her surroundings as they trudged slowly around the Fields of Asphodel and towards the high walls of Elysium.

Ahead of her, Nico shoved his hands further into the pockets of his timeworn aviator jacket and grumbled to himself about his own rotten luck. He should have brought Will along, he thought, if for no other reason than it would have been more interesting but unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your perspective) Nico's brighter half had responsibilities that kept him on the surface of the world. Responsibilities that Nico himself should have been shouldering. His shoulders tensed but then he sighed and snuck a glance back at Charlie, taking in her straight back and the way she clutched at the straps of her backpack. He had a responsibility here too, he supposed, one that was a long time coming.

Up ahead the walls began to loom above them, casting a deep shadow from the artificial light that emanated within and Nico skirted them around it. The closer they got to the gate, the more Charlie could pick up on individual sounds and smells; the scent of barbecue and baked goods wafted through the air reminding her that breakfast was some time ago, while stringed instruments played in harmony with woodwinds and the trickle of distant joy and laughter hit her. It was so wrong, so out of place, that she found herself being far more creeped out by the thought of this paradise island in the middle of a barren wasteland than the thought of coming to the Underworld to begin with.

"You okay?"

Charlie jumped, realizing with a start that they had made it to the gates and Nico was currently watching her with that annoying look of concern in his eyes that all of her mother's friends had at one time or another.

"Yeah," she shook her head, "yeah, I just-"

"I get it," he shrugged and craned his neck to stare up at the opulent golden gates, "Doesn't seem like it belongs, does it?"

She didn't answer him but the longer Charlie stared at the entrance to Elysium and the odd way the space between the glowing bars seemed to blur like you were looking through warped glass so you couldn't quite make out what was on the other side the more she realized it wasn't what she was looking at that sent her heart racing, but what was waiting for her on the other side. An icy hand seemed to grip at her heart and her stomach felt like it was coated in lead as lines of prophecy floated across her mind. She didn't want to do this, she didn't want to be here, she didn't want to see him.

The entire reason she was there to begin with.

"Let's just get this over with," she rolled her shoulders and reached out to push open the gate but before she could lay a hand upon the metal frame a spectral face sifted through it, startling her backwards.

"You cannot enter here," it spoke, voice reverberating as the rest of its body floated into view. He was a soldier - Ancient Greek if the armor and helm were anything to go by - broad but not tall, with large, hairy arms that were crisscrossed with scars.

"She's with me," Nico informed the ghost, stepping between the two as he laid his palm against the hilt of his Stygian iron sword.

The Greek pressed his lips in a tight smile but shook his head still. "And I could hardly stop you from going where you please in this realm, Ghost King, but she is still rife with the energy of the living and her fate is undecided. She cannot pass into Elysium."

Nico opened his mouth to retort but snapped it shut when Charlie shouldered into him "It's okay," she she shook her head at him, "I don't need to go in." The young hero dropped her backpack to the ground and opened it, rifling around in search of something. "He can come out here, right?"

"I suppose," the son of Hades chewed on his bottom lip, "But you'd need good incentive. Souls don't usually volunteer to leave Elysium unless they're opting for rebirth."

Charlie pulled out a clear tupperware container from her bag and stood up, "Are you ready?"

"I feel like I should be asking you that."

She picked at the edge of the plastic lid with her thumbnail, glaring down at the baked good within. Was she ready? Did she have a choice? The prophecy gave her some time but not enough that she could just throw away a good lead like this because of a lifelong grudge.

"Let's just get it over with," she huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. Pride was her mother's fatal flaw, not hers, and she knew what needed to be done. Popping off the tupperware lid she pulled out a single cupcake- the icing was a little smashed but she knew it would still be delicious. Charlie couldn't even begin to count how many of these she'd had in her life and they never ever disappointed.

"Yeah, that should definitely work," his dark brown eyes stared down at the baked good and if Charlie didn't know any better she would think he looked almost wistful. She knew Nico from Camp, not from home, even though her mother counted him among her friends. She also knew that they sort of grew up together, or were at least involved in the same adventures. But she wondered if there was a time they had been closer, before a certain part of the equation had been removed. Before her mother had shut herself out from that aspect of her life.

She watched him take the cupcake out and hold it was a sort of reverence. Had her grandma ever made cupcakes and cookies for Nico di Angelo? Had she doted on him like she did every hero and half-blood that gathered in her kitchen for rest and reprieve?

Charlie shook herself from her thoughts as her companion set the foodstuff on the ground and began to concentrate. She looked up at the gate, not sure what to expect but knowing from experience that she needed to be ready for the worst. The gods were always throwing the worst at her. She was beginning to think it was personal.

The Greek ghost had faded some time ago - back to wherever ancient guardian ghosts go when their posts aren't in imminent danger of being breached - but in spot he had previously occupied a new ethereal light began to shine. The light flashed suddenly, so bright Charlie had to shield her eyes and when she was able to see again there stood a new ghostly body. He was a young man with a slender build with white scars littering the exposed skin of his arms, dark hair and eyes that glowed such an intense green that they shown through the pale haze that normally exuded from the inhabitants of the Underworld.

Charlie knew that face, that exact face. She'd seen so many pictures, heard so many stories and imagined his voice so many times that her heart ached and her blood raced, she felt ill and then… angry. So, so angry.

"Percy Jackson," Nico intoned, raising an eyebrow and sounding less than impressed.

Percy cocked his head to one side, eyes sliding between the older demigod and the young lady before finally settling on the cupcake on the floor. "Is that what I think it is? Nico…" he reached down and scooped up the baked good, "Did you bring me one of my mom's blue cupcakes?"

"Not me," the son of Hades shook his head, shaggy hair falling into her eyes, "She did."

Nico jutted his thumb over his shoulder in the direction where Charlie was definitely not hiding. Those green eyes followed the line, narrowing at her, taking in everything he could learn from her small, slight stature, her messy blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and light grey eyes.

"I see," he half smiled, "and who are you supposed to be?"

Charlie stepped forward, balling her fists and shoving down her emotions as she weaved around Nico, "I'm from Camp Half-Blood. The Oracle sent me on a quest-"

"Rachel?" he cut her off, eyes lighting up and body appearing to vibrate in excitement, "is she still kicking around the spirit of Delphi?"

"Uh yeah," Charlie blinked, taken aback by his enthusiasm, "She issued a prophecy." Percy bobbed his head in a nod, finally taking his eyes off of her to slowly peel the wrapper off the cupcake with utter rapture. "To the West, the gol-"

"Num," he muttered around a mouthful of cobalt blue cake and waved his free hand, "Dun nee kno."

"Oh, okay then." She narrowed her eyes and gave a huff, Charlie hated being cut off. By her side, Nico sniggered and then turned it into a cough at the small girl's sharp glare.

Percy swallowed and hummed in delight, eyes closed and a small, sad smile gracing his blue icing stained lips. "I'm sorry," he sighed and wiped the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb, "Me and prophecies… we didn't really get along in life, I can't imagine it's any better in the afterlife. Just tell me what you need and we'll see how much help I can actually be down here."

Charlie opened her mouth to ask her question but found it lodged somewhere in her throat. She had imagined standing here, face to face with the great Percy Jackson more than once in her short life, but in those daydreams she had never froze. She needed answers for the good of the world, but she was beginning to wonder if she actually wanted them if they were supposed to come from him. After a pause, Nico settled a cool hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Percy, we came to ask you about the day you died."

A dark look passed across his face and Charlie was amazed at how it aged him. He stood straighter and a ripple seemed to pass over his form, before was no longer the ghost of a carefree young man but a battleworn demigod who had literally crawled his way across hell. His suddenly guarded look unglued her jaw.

"The last monster you fought - the one that killed you - we think it's back, and if it is allowed to reach full power then we think it'll just be the precursor to something much worse. We need to know everything that happened that day; what it was, how you were able to stop it, and what - when - uh," she faltered and looked to Nico for help but he just stared blankly back at her. Charlie wasn't sure she'd ever felt so abandoned. "Where you went wrong," she breathed, looking down at the toes of her scuffed up converse, shrinking under the impression of green fire that burned through the dark atmosphere.

"Where I went wrong," he repeated slowly. There was a heavy pulse in the air and then a icy cold sensation swept across her body, she gasped looking up just in time to see the ghost of Percy Jackson step back from her in obvious distress, one hand stretched out. She touched her fingertips to her chin where he had tried to lift her head before realizing he couldn't actually touch her. He laughed humorlessly, balled his hand into a fist and drew it to his chest, "I was born, wasn't I? That's where it all seems to go wrong. Right, Nico?"

He hummed in response but Charlie imagined he was smiling weakly as well.

"The day I died," he smiled sadly, "I woke up to an urgent Iris message. I left my family to go help a friend. She needed a storm. The monster- creature-" he shook his head like throwing off cobwebs, "whatever it was, it kept reforming whenever it was cut down. She thought, maybe, if she could break it apart into too many pieces in the middle of a hurricane that they'd been flung too far apart to reform any time soon and she'd have long enough to figure out a way to banish it permanently. How long did we get?"

"Thirteen years," Nico whispered, "That was thirteen years ago."

Percy nodded absently, gaze once again falling on Charlie, "It doesn't feel that long down here. Time is… weird."

Nico nodded in agreement but Charlie's mind began to whirl, latched onto details, spinning theories and grasping at battle plans wildly. "How did she blow it up? Dynamite? C4?"

"What? No," he blinked in confusion. "Lightning."

"Thalia," Nico smacked himself on the forehead with his own palm, "I should have guessed."

The ghostly hero nodded, "She was hunting the thing long before I got involved, so if you came down here looking for a direction then that's the one I'd point you in."
"But no one has seen the Hunters since your death."

Percy looked taken aback, "None of them?"

Nico shook his head, "Thalia wasn't even there when they burned your shroud."

"Ouch," he rubbed at his chest like it was a physical blow. Then he stopped, eyes growing wide in alarm, "Shit! If you thought I died in that fight, Thalia must think I did too."

"You were grappling with it," Charlie guessed, suddenly being able to picture the battle clear as day in her mind, "At the center of the storm- your storm- it would be the best way to get maximum dispersal."
Percy nodded and Nico looked slightly more pale than usual, "Thalia called down her lightning, that most powerful blast she could manage. It must have drained her so much she passed out and by the time she came to…"

"There wasn't anything left of you…" Nico's gaze was unfocused, eyes cast back into the past, "I felt it like a shockwave, your soul being ripped from the Earth. But we could never find your body."

"But it wasn't Thalia, you know that," he looked like he wanted to grab the smaller male by the shoulders and shake him but stopped himself at the last second, "You need to find her and tell her that."

"Wait, wait, hold up," Charlie shook her head and stepped between the two, "If you're saying that the golem didn't kill you," (Percy mouthed golem? over her head and Nico nodded), "And neither did the hunter, what did?"

"You didn't tell her?"

Nico shook his head, "Her relationship with the gods was always a little precarious. I didn't think it wise to add that much fuel to the fire."

The dead demigod set his hands on his hips and blew out a breath, "Yeah, yeah, no you're probably right. It would be a mess, she'd declare war and you know she wouldn't stop until she tore Olympus apart brick by brick with her bare hands. Still," he looked pained, "I hate it. She must hate me.."

"What the Hades are you two going on about? What killed you? How did you die?" Charlie didn't realize she was yelling until her voice began to echo off the cavernous Underworld.

"Charlotte," he spoke softly and calmly like she was a small, frightened animal, "I was struck down by Zeus' Master Bolt."

"But.. but no," she blinked rapidly, "I don't understand, that doesn't make sense. You were a hero. You were the hero, how - why would he do that?"

From the corner of her eye she saw Nico begin to shuffle away, drawing his blade and looking about like he knew Charlie's outburst would attract some unwanted attention, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Percy was staring down at her and she could see his heart break in every facet of his being, and something deep inside her shifted. "You look so much like your mother," he raised a hand again but let it drop before jamming both hands into his ghostly jean's pockets.

"How did you know who I was?" she asked, voice small.

"How could I not?" his grin was lopsided and she recognized it from the pictures in her grandma's house and those that her mother kept hidden in her bedside drawer. "I dreamt about how you would grow up from the day I knew you existed and when you were born, gods, I've loved you every moment. I'm so sorry, Charlotte, I never wanted to leave you."

"Charlie," she corrected automatically, a stunned numbness coursing through her veins, "No one calls me Charlotte."

"Charlie," he let the name name roll off his tongue and then laughed, "Of course." Charlie shot him a confused look and he let a soft, sad smile settle on his lips.

"Charlie, she looks like a Charlie."

"We aren't calling her Charlie, and she doesn't look like anything yet. And we don't even know if she's a she anyways."

"Charlotte then," he pressed his face to Annabeth's barely there baby bump as they lay together, Percy daydreaming while Annabeth read, "but I'm going to call you Charlie."

"When Zeus found out about you, it made him so nervous that he issued a decree to the Fates," he dropped his eyes in shame, "you and I were never to walk the Earth together. He couldn't take the risk."

"I don't understand," Charlie shook her head, "Why would he do that?"

"He was terrified of you, because of who you are - who you could become. You're mine and Annabeth's - a legacy of both Poseidon and Athena. You have to understand, Charlie, there's no one like you in all of history. Do you even realize how powerful you are? What you could do? What you're capable of?"

Charlie had an inkling, every once in a while in battle she could feel it under her skin, bubbling and straining like a geyser about to blow but it had also made her feel sick and so she held back. "But you guys were heroes, you were named the Hero of Olympus, you defeated giants and Titans and- and-"

"That's the only reason he didn't vaporize me on the spot when I went to bargain for your life."

"My life…?" her head spun, "Wait a second, he was going to kill me? But I wasn't even born!"

Yet far from looking as affronted as Charlie felt, he just shrugged, "Zeus' moral compass doesn't exactly point due north. By the Trident, he probably took the needle off of it and used it to get some poor mortal pregnant back in the day."

She rocked back on her heels in shock, "So you did what? Traded your life for mine?"

"Essentially, I guess," he ran a hand through his dark hair, making it stand up at odd angles in an strangely endearing way, "His decree was made directly to the Fates, so there was no way he was going to go back on his word- trust me, I tried- but in the end the only thing I could him to do was convince him to take me instead."

"And you did all of this without telling mom? Why?"

Percy linked his hands behind his head and looked upward, like he was trying to cast his mind back to when he made that decision. "After everything we had been through, everything we had to endure and battle just to have the chance to just exist, well, it didn't exactly foster that great of a relationship between your mom and the gods. I was afraid that this would send her over the edge. You know your mom, you must know she doesn't like to lose and one way or another she was going to lose big, I wasn't about to give her a reason to call an all out war on Olympus or challenge Zeus to single combat."

"Because you thought he would kill her as well."

"Oh no," Percy looked slightly shocked at the assumption, "She would totally kick his butt. But all the books said that stress is, you know, bad for the baby." He gestured vaguely at his own belly before seeming to realize that the baby he was referring to was the young lady in front of him. "So yeah," he looked awkward in front of her, rubbing at the back of his neck and rocking back on his heels. It was actually kind of adorable to Charlie and she wondered, not for the first time, if she would have turned out any different if he had been in her life.

"Do you regret it?" she asked, looking down.

Her face grew cool again but she didn't glance up, already able to picture that crushed look on his face because he had forgotten again that he couldn't touch her. He must have been a very affectionate guy in life, she thought, probably very huggy.

"Charlie," he intoned so solemnly that something inside for started to break. She couldn't see the stoney look of his features or the fire that raged in his eyes, but she could hear traces of it in the seriousness of his voice. "I pushed Zeus' patience beyond what was smart trying to hold onto you as long as possible. When I got Thalia's message, when I realized what that meant, it broke everything inside of me. I hated every step I took away from you and your mother. I hated Zeus and his stupid ego. I hated myself. But regret?" he looked down thoughtfully, like it had never occurred to him to feel regret about giving up his life. "No," he shook his head at last, "Maybe I regret not finding a better way, or leaving without being able to explain but I couldn't ever regret doing whatever I had to to insure you were given a chance. I would make the same choice, again and again a thousand times over. Please don't ever doubt that I love you so much that I would put you ahead of myself for all eternity. You and your mom, you two are my everything."

"She doesn't talk about you any more," Charlie felt compelled to tell him, more than a little uncomfortable with him pouring out his heart. Her mother might have been a warm and open person once; someone better matched to the man this spirit once was, someone who laughed at his silly jokes and made his messy hair worse, someone who let him watch her back in battle and laid with him while joking and talking about baby names. But that wasn't the woman Charlie saw almost every day when she was home. Annabeth wasn't cold exactly and Charlie knew her mother loved her, but once she had lost Percy something inside of older blonde had shut off and anything more than the occasional show of affection was more than the analytical mind of Annabeth Chase could handle. Her Aunt Piper had tried to explain it once, that Percy had been her mother's heart and without him she was lost, but Charlie had never understood why that meant she had to get the short-end of the stick.

But whatever reaction she had been going for, if she had been trying to hurt him or open his eyes or something else, he just laughed somewhat sadly and rubbed the back of his head with his hand. "Can't say that's too surprising, Annabeth always took abandonment hard," he revealed with a spread of his hands in a 'what-can-you-do' gesture, "And I left her in the middle of the night with just a note. I can't imagine a worse way to do it." His eyes drifted upward as his right hand slipped absently to cover his heart and he softly murmured, "I still can't believe I did it at all."

"Yeah," Charlie shook her head, "that was pretty stupid. Mom is totally going to kick your ass the next time she sees you."

To her utter surprise Percy laughter boomed around her and his sea green eyes shone out from the death mist so brightly that she could see him in perfect clarity. "I certainly hope so," he grinned boyishly, "That would be so awesome."

She blinked, flummoxed by the eagerness that hummed along his essence at the mere thought of one day getting totally destroyed by - oh. Charlie felt something in her chest shift. She knew her mother, she knew that Annabeth did not wear her heart on her sleeve because she did not waste emotion on things that did not matter to her. So, if after all that time, she still held so much anger and frustration at him then there was a good chance she still held all that love and passion for him. Percy was waiting down here in Paradise, waiting for the day the love of his life died to see if she would beat him silly to find out if he was still the love of hers.

It was all so tragic.

Hades' helm, she cursed silently, was there even a chance for a happy ending when it came to Greek demigods?

Great heroes are born and trained and called upon to fix the mistakes of the gods for what? To be stuck down at a whim because there is a chance they could become too powerful? Her parents had just wanted to start a family and leave that part of their heritage in the history books but for the potential of her strength with the guidance of Percy and Annabeth they could not be given that dream together. "I'm sorry."

His eyebrows drew down in confusion, "For what?"

"If it weren't for me, you would still be alive. You and mom would be together and -"

"No," he cut her off with a steel cut voice, "Don't you ever apologize, don't you ever think that-" His hands curled into fists and he ducked his head to give himself a moment to get himself back in control. "I had my life. It was crazy and terrifying and absolutely wonderful. And then it was my time. And the fact that I got to be part of you, that my time overlapped even a little with yours will be the greatest joy I will know. Do I wish there had been more time? Sure. But your mom and me knew what we were doing, we knew the risks. And it was all worth it, because we got you."

There was a sharp prickling sensation at the back of Charlie's eyes and resisted every urge to rub at them. "Me?" she wanted to laugh, "What's so special about me?"

"Oh sweetheart, everything. You are everything special in the universe."

"Then why is it always me?" she burst out, years of anger and frustration and fear bubbling up, "Why do I have to save the stupid gods and go on the stupid quests and fight monsters and get my life turned upside down. Why did my father have to die and my world get shattered before I even had a chance.. Just why? Why me?"

He raised his palms in a gesture that implied an almost futility. "Because you're you."

"That's stupid," she scoffed, finally giving into the urge to wipe her eyes, "Of course I'm me."

"And because of all that comes with it. Because you're my daughter, you're a Jackson and that means even though you don't deserve it, the weight of the world falls too often on your shoulders. Because you are Annabeth's daughter, so you will always be the best one for the job because you are meant to just be the best. And yeah, that means you're also smart and stubborn enough to run away and never be found if you really wanted but you're too loyal to your friends and proud of yourself to actually do it. You're a hero and that is the absolute worst legacy we could have possibly given you."

"What's the point? To get here?" she gestured behind the ghost towards the blindingly bright gates of Elysium.

"No," Percy sighed heavily, flicking his eyes backwards, "this is just a place."

"Then why do it? Why answer the call?"

"To get here." To her surprise she felt the pressure of his touch just below her collar bone, over where her heart beat with a heaviness she was unprepared for. "Our deeds and stories live on in other heroes and the hearts and memories of those we loved and who loved us, we help shape the next generation and hopefully inspire goodness in the world."

She looked up at him, slightly awed at the tenor of his voice and the glow in his eyes. It was his words that stuck her, but more than that it was everything about him. It was the way he smiled softly and sadly, eyes bright as they turned downward, broad shoulders heavy with burden but back straight as he stood tall and sure. This was Percy Jackson the Hero; this was the demigod that armies followed into impossible battle against the enemies of the gods, this was the man that was the port in the storm of her mother's mind, this was her father and she had never missed having his presence in her life as much as she did right then. "I wish you could have been there."

"Me too," he sighed and chucked her gently under the chin, then reached to tuck a stray curl of blonde hair behind her ear. The motion was ridiculously paternal that Charlie wanted to cry. She thinks she would have liked to have had Percy as a dad, she thinks he would have made a very good dad.

It occurred to her then in a haze that she could feel his sword-calloused palm cradling her cheek and so she pressing her own hand against his, holding it more solidly to her face. Unbidden - and certainly without a conscious thought - she rushed into him, throwing her arms around his middle and tucking her head into his chest. He did not hesitate to reciprocate the embrace, wrapping her tightly in his arms like he was trying to make up for a lifetime worth of missed hugs. She supposed he might have been.

After a moment (which she stretched for as long as she could rationalize and then a beat or two after that) she pulled back with a laugh, rubbing at her eyes with the palm of her hand. He let her go as well, but did not bother to wipe away the tears gathering in his own bright green eyes.

"I always wondered and now I know," she chuckled wetly, "You smell like the ocean. Fresh air and salt water."

The corner of his lips quirked up into a shy sort of smile, "You do too."

They watched one another, a million things that needed to be said sitting heavily in the dry, dead space between them but for the life of her Charlie couldn't form any single thought of what she should say. For his part though, Percy looked entirely content to simple take her in, memorizing details he never thought he would get to see.

"We probably have to get going soon," she broke in awkwardly, voice pitching with emotion.

He nodded, not surprised but still clearly saddened at the prospect of her upcoming departure. He slipped his hands into her jeans pockets, shrugging upward as if beginning to mentally close himself off, but stopped suddenly, eyes darting about her person like he was looking for something.

"You don't carry a sword," he observed.

Charlie tilted her head, watching him retreat back into that demigod persona- always on guard, taking in the small details that may make or break him. Or would have - if he'd still been alive.

"Never found one that felt right."

He nodded thoughtfully and pulled something from his pocket to offer her, "She has a bit of a troubled history, but Riptide always served me well. Maybe she'll work out for you too."

"She's a pen," Charlie blinked, taking the object from Percy. It was a disposable ballpoint with a black cap and the word Anaklusmos inscribed on the side, "In the stories you never struck me as the literary type."

"Yeah," he chuckled, "Took me years to realize you could even write with her. Annabeth never let me live that down."

She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if you lost more than your life to end up in the Underworld, but he just smiled patiently at her as he reached out to cup her hand over the cap and helped her ease it off the pen. Immediately a shimmering sword of celestial bronze, three feet in length with a leaf-shaped blade sprang to life in her hand. Percy stepped back as she took a few experimental swings, amazing at the lightweight and perfect balance. "Oh," she hummed, glancing up to catch the soft look on Percy's face. He looked so proud. "Thank you."

He nodded shakily and then glanced over her shoulder to where Nico was approaching with a confused look maring his dark features. "You're corporal."

Percy looked down at his hands, that were now solid, "Looks that way."

Nico looked like there was more that he wanted to say but seemed too noticed their matching red rimmed eyes and changed his mind at the last second, "We have to go. Did you get what you need?"

"I think so," Charlie barely managed to stop her voice from shaking, overloaded with everything that had just transpired. She capped Riptide and it shrunk back down into a pen which she slipped reverently into her front pocket. "I have to find Thalia and the Hunters."

"Be careful, Charlie," Percy wished her and when she looked up at him he began to fade back into a ghostly haze. "I love you."

"I-" she swallowed hard and caught the warm shining in his eyes, her chest burned with too many emotions to process and her head swam. He kissed the pads of his two forefingers and held them out to her with a gentle smile on his face and then faded away completely. "I love you too, dad."

Charlie was grateful for the cool breeze that blew across her face and helped replace the dry, dead scent of the Underworld with the earthy one of Central Park. The journey back to the surface had been almost painfully silent which Charlie found to be both a blessing and a curse. It wasn't until they had double checked that they hadn't left the Door of Orpheus open that Nico had even asked if she was okay (she was) or if she needed him to walk her home (she didn't).

The apartment that she lived in with her mother wasn't far and she had been walking those sidewalks and streets for as long as she could remember. Still, Nico slipped her into a shadow with him and they came out on her block before he slipped back into the darkness without her. Ruffled at his unnecessary worrying and emotionally drained, Charlie made her at through the lobby and up to her floor.

She fished out her key wearily and when she made it inside the door she dropped her book bag to the floor and turned to find the flash of a Celestial bronze dagger pressed against her throat.

The storm cloud grey eyes of her mother widened and the sharp pressure to her windpipe disappeared. "Charlie," she rasped in surprise, "you're supposed to be at Camp."

The younger blonde resisted to urge to check her neck for injuries, "I'm on a quest."

"To the city? Rachel must be losing her touch." Charlie never saw her mother sheath her weapon but it was suddenly no longer in her hand. "Hungry? I was just about to start dinner."

In the far corner of the living room Annabeth's drafting table was cluttered with all sorts of papers, architectural tools and coffee mugs. Chances were she had gotten caught up in her work and lost track of time. It happened a lot whenever her firm got a big project. "Sure, sounds good."

She heard her mother rattling through cabinets and in the fridge and thought about everything she had learned. Dressed in flannel pajama pants and an old tank top, no one would dare to guess at everything her mother had been through. But Charlie knew the scars that crisscrossed her tanned skin, knew the weariness in her step and the weight on her shoulders. Her mom had never looked as old to her as she did right then, compared to the face of her father fresh in her mind's eye, because even when he was gone to eternity she had been forced to live on.

Charlie dug her hands into her front pockets, fingers curling oddly familiarly around the pen she found there, "hey, mom-"

"I can't find anything in the kitchen," her mother cut her off, "how do you feel about ordering in?"

"That's fine, but I have to talk to you-"

"Chinese? Or pizza? Are you in the more for anything?" That hardly surprised Charlie, her mom had mastered many talents but cooking had never been one off them.

"It doesn't matter, I need to talk to you about my quest-"

"Or Thai, we haven't had Thai in ages," Annabeth mused, shuffling through a stack handy of takeout menus.

"Not since I got food poisining, but whatever I really need to tell you-" her voice began to rise.

"Charlie!" her mother exclaimed, not loud exactly but with enough definition that it stunned her daughter into a silence. They studied one another carefully and Charlie noticed for the first time how her mother's hand were shaking and the deep set look of exhaustion on her face.

"Mom?"

"We had a deal, Charlie. You need Camp, you need what it teaches you. So you go, and you learn, and you come home. But we don't talk about it. I can't talk about it." She spoke in a low, steel voice that Charlie knew well, it was her 'and that's final' voice.

"I know, and I get it," gently she drew the pen from her pocket and set it on the table between them, "but I think we need to negotiate the deal."

"Riptide…" Annabeth breathed.

fin

Thanks for reading.