I've fought gods, defeated monsters, slayed giants, had the worst case of amnesia ever, and fought in not one but two wars, and never have I been more afraid than I was right now.

I stood outside my mom's small apartment at three in the morning. She'd be sleeping after working on her book all day. Paul would be in bed too, maybe with a half graded pile of tests.

I had been standing outside her door for the past hour. My keys to the apartment warm in my hands. I wanted to unlock the door, climb in my bedroom, and sleep. Then wake up in the morning to my mother's warm smile. But I couldn't bring myself to unlock the door. I couldn't even knock.

What would I say to her? "Hey, mom, how have you been the last few months" didn't really cover me disappearing for almost a year without warning. Chiron said that when Tyson and Mrs. O' Leary found me in California he called her. But that had been months ago. For all she knew I could be dead.

Annabeth told me she'd welcome me home with open arms. Grover told me that all I had to do was go home and she'd start crying tears of joy. I'd never known my mother to get angry with me. Disappointed, yes. Frustrated? Probably a lot. But never angry. But then again, I'd never pulled a stunt this big. Mom always knew where I was. She knew that I was okay. Months without a word...that was something I could never get back.

I heard the clock inside the apartment ring four and I still hadn't moved. I'd probably be out here until Mom or Paul opened the door to leave for work. The neighbors probably thought I was some weird stalker or maybe a homeless man. There were still too many scars and cuts and bruises on my body to count.

Suddenly I hear shouts from inside the building. I want to rush inside, knowing that the scream could only belong to one person but my body freezes as if Zeus decided to strike me with his lightning. There's stirring inside the apartment; a door opens and while I can't hear what they're saying, two people are having a conversation.

It's moments like this that I wish I convinced Tyson to come with me.

Before I can do anything the door unlocks and swings open and I'm standing face-to-face with a woman that has so many worry lines it looks like she's ten years older than she really is. Her eyes are red and puffy and her hands are shaking at her sides.

"P-Paul?" She whimpered, not taking her eyes off of me.

Another figure, a man, melts out of the shadows of the dark apartment next to her. "Do you see him too?"

"Oh my god..." Paul sighed, as if the sight of me took his breath away.

The three of us stood in the hallway for a solid ten minutes without saying a word.

The woman's shaking hand shout out, and I flinched. But she was gentle, rubbing her palm against my cheek like I was five years old again. Her eyes quickly filled with tears as she reached over and pulled me into a hug. I could barley breath, and her hair was in my mouth, but I wasn't about to say that.

I arced my spine downward and wrapping my body around her. My face nuzzled in her frizzy brown hair and all the good memories of her working in the candy store and weekends at Montauk washed over me. I tried to stay strong, but I was so tired. I started sobbing uncontrollably. It had been months since I'd seen my mother. This is all I wanted. The fear that she would be angry with me long out of my head, replaced with only good thoughts. I couldn't take back what I did to her. All those months she sat in the dining room, scared that next time she saw me would be at a funeral.

But this was all I could do. And it was enough.

"Hi, mom," I whispered as the tears died down. "I'm home."