because I needed a Percy/Sally reunion. it's post blood of olympus, but only mild spoilers…
Reunion
Four days. It had been four days since letters had arrived, postmarked from the address that Camp Half-Blood used, and Sally had read them all at least twenty times during the course of those four days. They had been letters that Percy had written since he'd gotten on the Argo II, that told her in about his time at Camp Jupiter, the quest to Alaska (since his phone message hadn't even been a minute in length), his reunion with Annabeth, and everything up to a few weeks prior, when he had given the letters to a satyr for them to be sent to Sally and Paul.
Since their arrival, nothing. No word about what had happened on August 1st, though they had obviously triumphed against all odds seeing as the world was still intact. Not a letter, not an Iris message, nothing. Not even anything from Annabeth, who had kept in regular contact until they had set out for Camp Jupiter.
With a sigh, Sally closed her laptop. She was in no state of mind to be writing, which was a shame. NYU hadn't started yet and she had the afternoon off work. It would have been a perfect day for writing, but it wasn't. It hadn't been easy to write since Percy's disappearance in December. It was like something was blocking what she wanted to write from getting out. She knew he was alive, her gut told her that. But it had been over six months since she had seen him, held him in her arms. Over a month since she'd heard his voice on the phone. Yes, she knew he was alive, but she wanted to see him. She wanted to hold her baby boy again.
School had been difficult during those months he'd been missing, since her mind was always elsewhere, wondering how and what her son was doing. If he'd even remembered her at all. But she had managed to pass her classes and keep her GPA decent, with the help of Paul. She didn't know what she would've done without her husband.
Sally got up from the kitchen table and went into the living room, where the letters from Percy sat on the coffee table in front of the couch. She plopped down, leaning forward to grab the letter that sat on top of the pile, the most recent. She ran her fingers over where he had signed the letter. She wanted to see her son, but he'd get home when he could. That was the way it went after a quest. He came home after when he could. And this was just another quest, just an extra-long one due to the goddess Hera. If she ever met the goddess, she'd probably end up getting a few cows sent her for what she had to say to Hera. And it would be worth it.
She glanced into the kitchen. She might as well do the dishes since writing was obviously out. Perhaps after Paul got home from that meeting about the upcoming school year they would put in a movie to watch with dinner. Yes, that sounded like a nice plan. So she set down the letter and got up from the couch, but just as she stood up the doorbell rang. Sally looked at the clock at the wall. No, it couldn't be Paul using the bell because he forgot his keys. It was too early.
Sally went to the door and after unlocking it, pulled it open. On the other side stood Annabeth, looking older than she had when Sally had last talked to her in June, but she had a smile on her face and her gray eyes sparkled. And something, or rather someone, stood a few steps behind her.
"Hi Sally," said Annabeth, who glanced back at the figure over her shoulder. "Look who I found."
He stepped around Annabeth, who stepped back with a grin, and into the doorway in front of Sally. She let out a shaky breath. He also looked older, leaner, and taller than she had last seen him. And was that a tattoo on his arm?! He'd failed to mention that in his letters. Oh, he'd get an earful about that later. But he was here. He was home.
"Hey mom," said Percy, his voice cracking.
With a sob, Sally wrapped her arms around her son. She felt his arms go around her and his face press into her shoulder. She held him tightly, and could feel him shaking and her shoulder growing damp. She knew he was probably feeling her shake as well.
She pushed him back a few minutes later and his face was streaked with tears. She cupped his face, the same way she had when he was little and had woken up during the night with a nightmare, and brushed away the tears. He was older, and taller, definitely, but he was still her little boy. And he always would be, whether he be three or thirty-three, he'd always be her little boy.
For a moment she just looked at him, taking in his appearance. The months, and what he had gone through, had changed him so much, and yet so little at the same time.
"You need a haircut," she observed, pushing back a particularly long strand of his hair.
Percy let out a wet laugh.