PJO ONE SHOT SEVEN

Summary:

Percy didn't care that he was crying, he didn't care that he was sore and scared and scarred and tired and hungry. He didn't care that the fight in him that had kept him alive these long, long years was slowly sputtering and falling. He didn't care about anything, except for his mum who wrapped her arms around him hard enough to stop him breaking completely.

Clutching the flowers (a bouquet of lillies and daisies and daffodils) in his hand, Percy raised a shaking fist to knock on the apartment door. He had grown up in this apartment. He had once called this place home and felt safe here, but, as the years went on, Percy started to call Camp Half-Blood home, too. And, as he learnt more and more and faced more and more, he learnt that home was wherever Annabeth was.

When was the last time he had seen his mum? It had been too long. Percy swallowed. What kind of son was he? He'd been to busy saving the world (again) from Gaea and the thought of visiting his mum slowly left until it was nothing more than a whisper in a storm of screams.

He had probably driven her insane; for a second, he imagined what that must have felt like. Being completely and utterly powerless whilst your son was off saving the world. Especially because Percy had been a rather crappy son and hadn't even thought about calling her.

But, in his defence, he had lost his memory. And then he'd been so caught up in defeating Gaea, he'd forgotten all about it. Then the whole thing with Tartarus happened and Percy could barely find time to breathe, let alone visit his family!

It wasn't that he didn't want to see his Mum (or Paul, for that matter). No, he wanted - needed - to see them, needed to make sure they were okay. But he just never really found the time. The war with Gaea had ended a month ago and Percy and Annabeth were still dealing with the aftermath of Tartarus and they were still waking up in the middle of the night with sweat dripping down their skin feeling too much like blood.

If it wasn't for Annabeth, Percy wouldn't be standing here right now. In more ways than one. Annabeth had saved Percy's life more times than he could count, but that wasn't really what he was talking about.

Annabeth had suggested that Percy go see his parents today. Since he hadn't seen them in a while and they were in New York so, why not? She'd offered to come but Percy had quietly said that he wanted to do this alone.

He didn't want Annabeth reliving any bad memories whilst he explained what happened. What really happened. He didn't want to lie anymore. Percy just wanted someone he could fully talk to without having to be brave and act like the hero that everyone thought he was. He wanted his family.

Yes, Percy was a complete momma's boy. He wasn't afraid to admit it. His mum, Sally, had been there for him every time he got expelled, every time something strange and unexplainable happened before he knew that he was a demigod. She'd been there for him. Always.

And, in return, he'd been there for her. As much as he could, anyways. These past few months he had been slacking. But, like with the time with Gabe, every time Sally had to find a job or couldn't work out the next part in her novel, he had been there. They picked each other up, and, for a long time, the two of them had been the only family, the only source of comfort that they had.

Again, Percy knocked his fist to the door - this time, he did so with more determination and bravery. Maybe his mum would be mad, for a short amount of time. But he guessed that that was okay, expected, even. But, after the initial anger, Percy could get that crushing weight of guilt off his chest.

A muffled voice called a word that Percy couldn't decipher and, a few seconds later, the door swung open and in the doorway stood Paul Blofis, his step-dad. Why Paul was off from work, Percy had no idea - it wasn't that late in the day, only two in the afternoon.

Paul started, his eyes widening momentarily. Percy stood in the doorway awkwardly, shuffling his feet. It wasn't that he didn't like Paul. No, that could not be further from the truth. But they had not seen each other in so long and so much had happened since the last time they had seen each other... it felt like lifetimes ago.

Clearing his throat, Paul opened the door wider. "Percy," he blinked and didn't bother hiding the shock in his tone. "We haven't heard from you in ages, how have you been?"

Percy feared that if he thought about all of it and spilt every last thought and every last fear, he'd never be able to stop. He'd recite his fears like they were a piece of poetry - he'd tell those stories until he felt like they were burned into his skin, always there. Reminding him, shadowing him. And all the mistakes he made... they hung heavily over him like the stars. Only, with stars, they held wishes and hope - and his mistakes were the complete opposite.

So Percy merely walked into the apartment with a slight nod and surveyed the apartment. It hadn't changed that much and it still smelt of freshly baked blue cookies and books. Percy gave a small smile at the sense of comfort; he was about to sit on the sofa (or flop, flop was always good) when his eyes caught on a figure standing in the doorway.

When he saw his mum, Percy had hoped that he'd keep some of his composure and dignity. But all of his thoughts flew out of his head when he saw his mum, the only person that had stood by him despite all that he did wrong, and he broke down.

"Mum," He whispered with a small sob. He hadn't seen his family in months... seven, nine? He wasn't too sure. He dropped the flowers on the coffee table in front of the sofa and moved over slowly to her.

He was afraid. Could Sally read the emotions, the secrets and fears, in his eyes? Percy swallowed. "I'm so sorry." His voice wasn't louder than a whisper, it was like a movement that was too fast or a word that was too loud. would make the world shatter like glass.

Sally opened her arms and Percy, no longer caring about anything, fell into them and rested his head on her shoulder. He towered over his mum now, but that would never change anything. No matter how grown up he was or how much he saw or knew, he'd still do anything for his family. Even if that meant going through Tartarus again.

After a few minutes, Percy sniffed and pulled back. "Percy, sweetie, what happened to you?" Of course, of course she could see through his mask. The three of them moved to sit on the sofa and Percy felt his heart fall into a race, he didn't like being put on the spot like this. He didn't like feeling vulnerable like this. It made him feel weak and childish.

From beside him, Paul placed a comforting hand on Percy's shoulder. "You look like you've been through hell, son."

At those words, Percy fell apart. He wasn't sure if he could ever get back again, he had seen so much. All he wanted was to feel normal again, he wanted to be rid of the weight on his shoulders. Pushing down and crushing. Constantly. He was so, so tired - exhausted to his very soul and bones.

But he didn't cry. He started to laugh and smile and it felt so good to be able to laugh - he hadn't thought that he'd see his family again. But here he was. And, hopefully,here he always would be.

Percy grinned and rested his arms over the shoulders of Sally and Paul, pulling them close to him in a group hug. Sally smiled softly, but then her eyes caught on the tattoo on his forearm. "Perseus Jackson," he cringed with a slight chuckle, "did you get a tattoo?"

"No," he shook his head. And then added, "not technically." He pulled his arms back and lifted the sleeve of his hoodie to get a better look at the tattoo; the dark ink of SPQR came into view along with the horizontal single line that marked his first year. "There's another camp that I somehow got sucked into when I lost my memory," Sally gasped and covered her mouth with a shaking hand, "I'm fine now, though. Hera was behind it all for her own sick, twisted reasons.

"Anyway, its Roman. Camp Half-Blood is Greek. Its more or less the same thing. But Camp Jupiter, the Roman one, is a lot more violent and..." he searched for the word, "proper? I guess. They all stay year round. I got switched with a guy called Jason Grace, he's awesome, son of Zeus.

"When you arrive at Camp Jupiter you get a tattoo on your am, it shows your godly parent and how many years you have been there. Hence, the trident and single line. Whereas, in Camp Half-Blood, you get necklaces showing all the quests you've gone on."

The son of Poseidon smiled as he reached up to touch one of the clay beads on his necklace. "Whilst I was at Camp Jupiter, Jason took my place at Camp Half-Blood along with his friend, Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus and girlfriend Piper McLean, daughter of Aphrodite, where they helped Annabeth find a way to get me back."

He carried on; "I met these people, Frank Zhang, son of Mars and Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto. We went on a quest to Alaska, blah, blah, blah, and then Annabeth, Piper, Leo and Jason - well, mainly Leo - made this ship called the Argo II and they came to get me, Hazel and Frank.

"We found out that we were a part of this massive prophecy that was foretold hundreds of years ago - the prophecy of the seven, they called it - and it was a quest to defeat Gaea, the earth mother, from waking." Percy laughed aloud as he thought about all the memories and funny stories that had happened on the Argo II.

Percy took a sharp intake of breath, the next part would be the hardest. "Along the way, me and Annabeth fell into Tartarus... uh, hell, I guess you'd call it." Sally murmured something and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder whilst Paul sucked in a deep breath. "Whilst we were down there, I discovered some rather dark powers."

Leave it at that, his mind told him. Percy agreed. He didn't want to tell Sally or Paul about what he had done to Achlys; he didn't even want to admit it to himself half the time. How he had taken those dark parts of him and bought them forward, how he had made everyone's fears of him into flesh, how he had come too close to losing himself to that caged monster that lived under his skin.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Percy finished. "In the end, we defeated Gaea and everything worked out okay, I guess." That was the smallest explanation he could give, the least he could give without falling into those first few dark days after Tartarus.

There was a lot more he wanted to tell them but... not yet. He would tell the rest when he was sure that he could openly speak about it - which would take time, but he'd make it. He and Annabeth and everyone else would make it, they'd pull through, they always did.

Sally stood from the sofa and crushed Percy into her arms. "My poor baby," Percy felt Paul join into the hug. Together, the three of them fell onto the floor, laughing. And, with those bouts of laughter, came tears. Free-flowing and showing no sign of stopping.

He didn't care. He was back with his family.

Percy didn't care that he was crying, he didn't care that he was sore and scared and scarred and tired and hungry. He didn't care that the fight in him that had kept him alive these long, long years was slowly sputtering and falling. He didn't care about anything, except for his family who wrapped their arms around him hard enough to stop him from breaking completely.

With the three of them still on the floor, laughing and crying and never letting go, Sally whispered six words into Percy's ear: "You're going to be a brother."

And Percy thought that that was the best news he had ever heard.

I've had this story in my drafts for a few months, only the first three paragraphs and I thought hey, either I finish this or edit Alone In The Shadows and editing is soooooo boring :(

So, I wrote this. I'm not sure if its any good, I quite liked it. Oh, before I forget, my next one shot is GUARANTEED to be a happy one :D

Let me know what you thought!

Love you all,

*Virtual Hugs*

Ro x