Hey, everyone.

First off, don't shank me just yet. I am SO sorry for how long this chapter took. I have my reasons and excuses, but they're pretty lame, so I won't even bother. I promise the next update will be much quicker. I just started school on Monday, so for now things are still pretty calm, but they won't be for long. So tentatively, I'm going to try for once a week. Updates may be more frequent or less frequent, but on average that's usually about what I can do once school gets into full swing.

So this chapter seemed like a good idea at the beginning, but as it went on, I feel like it may have gotten slightly rambly. So I'm sorry if it did. Having just started my senior year, I can relate to Percy's thoughts in this chapter, but I tried to keep it sounding like him as much as I could, rather than like me. Hopefully it's alright.

And finally, I know there was some concern with the long wait and everything, but I am NOT ending this story yet, or at any time before the official end. I've made this promise with every long story I've written so far and I will make it with this one too; I will not just leave you hanging for all eternity, waiting for an update that will never come. This story will have a true end and you will know ahead of time when it is coming because I will always tell you. So don't worry, I have every intention of seeing this story to it's completion. :)

Sorry for the long AN, but I wanted to address those points real quick. Now without further ado...

Percy

There was something about being the first one up in the morning, with nothing to do and no one to talk to, that inspired rare productivity for boring tasks. I sat in the kitchen, early morning light filtering in through the window behind me as I squinted down, fighting dyslexia and heavy eyelids, to make out the words printed in the copy of Macbeth I held propped up before me on the table. It was an assigned reading book for English class, one that I wasn't particularly fond of, but then, I wasn't particularly fond of any English assignment. Still, Shakespeare wasn't exactly my forte.

It was the day before Thanksgiving. Annabeth had left after school the day before for California to visit the Chases, per her dad's many requests, for a few days and to celebrate the holiday with her family. She was flying home on Saturday afternoon, three days from now. I was happy she'd gone, that things between her parents and her were good enough now for her to be able to go, but it wasn't without its repercussions; chiefly the small matter of our recent trip through Tartarus which had left us with scars that were still healing-scars that, incidentally, healed better when we were together.

After being woken up for the fifth or sixth time by nightmares, I kind of gave up on sleeping. That had been around six in the morning. I'd lain in bed for another half hour or so anyway, before abandoning the idea altogether. After the sun rose, not bothering to change out of my pajamas, I'd padded out to the kitchen, book in hand, determined to at least do something productive and quiet until my parents got up. Ms. Gordon wanted Act I read by Monday anyway and Annabeth would kill me if I didn't get it done.

That had been about thirty minutes ago. I had just started the second scene when my mom's voice sounded from the doorway, saving me from the words, which had begun floating off the page. "You're up early," she observed, coming to stand beside me. I looked up at her from my seat at the table and she ran a hand through my hair, which I'm sure was a mess, and down my cheek, where she let it rest for a second, her thumb lightly caressing the skin beneath my eye, which was surely shadowed-evidence of the fitful sleep I'd gotten the night before. I knew she noticed, but she didn't comment on it. "What are you reading?" she asked instead, her tone clearly making note of the rare sight she was beholding.

"This book for English," I answered unenthusiastically, showing her the cover.

"Macbeth," she read, "That's a play, right? Shakespeare."

"Yeah."

"Is it good?"

I gave her a look. "Mom, it's Shakespeare," I said, like that explained everything.

"Shakespeare is wonderful, sweetie," was her response.

"Maybe," I conceded, "But I have a hard enough time reading modern English. This is like another language."

She just smiled understandingly, "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"What's like another language?" asked Paul as he walked into the kitchen, his hair damp from the shower. I held up the paperback in reply. "Ah," he said, bee-lining for the coffee maker, "Yeah, that one's never very popular with you guys."

"I'm going to have to Sparknote this, I think, " I told him, "Because I have no idea what's going on."

Paul laughed. "As long as you read the acts first, I have no problem with that." I smiled despite myself. The downside of having an English teacher for a stepdad. I marked my page and tossed the book lightly onto the table, satisfied, at least, with the morning's progress.

My mom headed over to the refrigerator, no doubt to gather ingredients for breakfast. "Have you heard from Annabeth?" she asked over her shoulder, pulling out a carton of eggs, "Was she able to get settled okay?"

"Talked to her last night," I answered, "I guess so. She'll probably call later." With California being three hours behind New York, it was only about 4am there. She was asleep now. At least I hoped she was, though I knew she likely wasn't sleeping much better than I had.

My mom nodded as she went to work on breakfast, which, from the looks of things, included bacon and eggs. Paul, manning the coffee pot, poured himself a cup and gestured to me with it. "Want some?" he asked. I shook my head. "You sure?"

"Yeah, thanks." I wasn't really a huge fan of coffee, and I was sadly used to running low on sleep. I'd been on too many quests by now not to be.

"Okay," he said and poured some for my mom instead, who accepted it eagerly. He turned some of the bacon over with a fork for her while she took a sip.

I looked up to see her regarding me, a slight worried crease appearing between her eyebrows. I gave a small smile. "I'm fine, Mom," I reassured her lightly, "Just tired." She moved to sit at the table across from me, holding her mug securely in both hands and resting it on the table before her. She didn't say anything at first, just continued looking at me with this odd expression on her face. I knew she knew what the problem was. She was my mom; I didn't have to say it. "Seriously," I added, "I'm used to it." That probably wasn't the best thing to say, but it was the truth and she knew it.

"You love her," she said softly. It wasn't a question.

I nodded, looking down, and after a second, replied, "Yeah." It was true. I loved Annabeth. So much that it scared me sometimes. But I wouldn't have changed it for the world. Not any of it.

My mom didn't say anything in reply, just continued looking at me, a small smile gracing her lips with that fond sparkle in her eye that she got sometimes when she looked at me; a distinctly motherly look. She stood up again, produced a stack of three plates from the cabinet, and joined Paul at the stove again. My stepdad looked back at me, gesturing with the fork in his hand, "Food's done, Perce, if you're hungry."

That was an offer I couldn't refuse. I stood up from my chair, realizing belatedly that I probably should have helped with preparing breakfast, and crossed the kitchen to where my parents stood. My mom handed me a plate and I served myself some of the eggs and bacon-still sizzling, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and retreated back to my seat.

"So, Percy," my mom said, her back to me as she scooped breakfast onto a plate for herself, "How's the college prep going? Are you and Annabeth all set to go to New Rome next Fall?"

"Yeah," I answered, "The admissions process there is a lot easier than normal colleges. I don't have to do very much. They already know we're coming."

"They really don't turn anyone away?" Paul asked, sitting down at the table. He sounded a bit dubious.

I shrugged. "No, not really. As long as you have godly blood, you're basically in. I mean, you have to graduate high school first, obviously, but that's really it."

He reasoned, "I suppose the university there doesn't have the normal competition as far as incoming students go anyway, given the small number of you."

"You'd be surprised, actually, how many Roman demigods there are. But you're right, it doesn't. They have more than enough room, so there's no need to turn people away. Plus, the Romans are all about learning and bettering yourself anyway, so it makes sense." Paul looked impressed.

My mom nodded, not speaking right away. I knew the whole thought of me attending school across the country was bittersweet for her. I was her only child, and I would be leaving her with an empty nest. On the other hand though, I would be going to college basically for free and I'd be out of the reach of monsters, so she wouldn't have to worry.

It seemed like a no-brainer, but I probably still wouldn't have considered it had she not had Paul now. I would never leave my mom all alone like that. I couldn't do that to her.

And it would still be hard, to be so far away for so long, on the opposite side of the country from the only home I'd ever known, but I would be with Annabeth in California for four years, away from monsters and, for the most part, away from what had become "typical" demigod life. I'd be able to live with some semblance of normalcy for the first time in years, studying something I was actually interested in, and, did I mention I'd be with Annabeth? It almost seemed too good to be true.

We didn't have set plans for what happened after that, though, long term, Camp Half-Blood would always come first in my heart, as it did in Annabeth's. We'd probably end up coming back after to brave the world as adults, but that wasn't for a while still, and for now, I was content to focus on the immediate future.

Paul continued talking to me for a few minutes, asking me about my intended major-Oceanography, like Annabeth had originally suggested what seemed like ages ago, with a minor in Marine Biology (I still wasn't totally sure what it meant to 'minor' in something, but Annabeth said it was important to have both, so I did).

It wasn't the first conversation I'd had with Paul on the subject of my plans for school, though, being a high school teacher who helped students along the road and saw them off to graduation and post-secondary education on a normal basis, I guess it made sense he'd be interested in mine. He'd been surprised when he'd first learned that New Rome offered such specific majors as Oceanography, especially considering their uneasiness of the ocean in general throughout history, but I knew if he'd seen the place for himself, he wouldn't have been surprised at all. There was little that New Rome didn't offer in terms of almost anything.

We had pretty much finished with our food by the time the conversation died down. My mom hadn't said much throughout the course of it-she already knew the answers to most of Paul's questions anyway, but she'd sat and listened, nodding approval every once in a while. A part of my brain noted how ironic it was, after everything I'd been through with school throughout the years, how much I'd struggled and hated it, that here I was, sitting in the kitchen, discussing with my parents my plans for college over breakfast, when just a few year earlier, I probably never would have given a second thought to studying anything beyond twelfth grade. Annabeth had played a huge roll in expanding my horizons, as did a lot of other things; so much had changed in just a few short years-a fact that was not lost on me, but I couldn't deny that things were the best they'd been in a long time.

I helped my parents clear the table and went to work doing the dishes for my mom. Paul had pulled out a newspaper and was flipping through it with moderate interest and she stood a few feet beside me, leaning on the counter and finishing her coffee. I could feel her eyes on me and looked over as I ran one of the dishes under the running water.

"What?" I asked.

She just shook her head as a small smile found its way onto her face. "I'm just really proud of you, Percy," she answered sincerely.

I smiled in response. "Thanks."

She continued watching me for another few seconds and sighed lightly. "I can't believe you're a senior already, going off to California next year. I feel very old."

I laughed. "You're not old, Mom." She just eyed me, smirking. "And I'll visit often," I promised.

"You'd better." Her tone was lighthearted, but she meant it. I just smiled again; scrubbing the pan she'd cooked the eggs in. I cast her a sideways glance, still smiling myself.

I had finished with the dishes and was arranging them in the rack beside the sink to dry when my mom spoke up again. "I just hope it won't be too quiet around here for too long," she said with a forced seriousness, like she was trying not to smile, "Not that you need to rush or anything, but you should know I'm expecting you and Annabeth to provide me with lots of grandchildren someday."

The wet plate almost fell out of my hands. I looked at her, wide-eyed. "Mom," I said, in a scandalized voice. It wasn't like I hadn't thought about starting a family with Annabeth someday, years from now, but I hadn't expected my mom to put it out there quite so bluntly. She looked completely unapologetic.

Behind me, Paul just laughed.

Thanks for reading! Next update ASAP, I promise.