A/N: Here's Part III! Sorry it took so long to update; I'm back from my vacations and I'm back in the swing of summer-reading school-year-prep. There will be one more chapter after this, an epilogue, and then the story's done. Thanks so much to everyone who's kept reading! You're all my inspiration. :)

Note #1: Customary thanks to Rosestream. You're the best!

Note #2: More thanks to reviewers, without whom this story would not have been possible.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am poor. I own nothing.

Chapter Five

May: Part III

I wasn't sure how long it was before Ares woke me, shaking me gently by my shoulders. I stirred, unwilling to open my eyes, but then my thoughts of the waking world invaded the world of the dreaming.

I lifted my head from the window, rubbing my gritty eyes tiredly. The black sedan had been pulled over to the side of the road. It was dark out and impossible to make out the surroundings. The sky was like a damp blanket settling over the landscape. A thick net of clouds obscured even the stars from view.

Ares had put a thick wax candle on the dashboard—from where, I didn't know—and lit it with a flickering red flame. It cast an odd light over the car. Jude was sound asleep, in Ares's arms, of all places, her head tucked contently in the crook of his elbow. He seemed almost natural, as if he'd done it many times before, cradled a baby gently, softly. It was an odd picture, and yet it seemed, somehow, to fit.

"Feeling better?" Ares asked quietly.

I nodded mutely. It was the truth: sleep had done me some good. I no longer felt like I wanted to leave the world, though I wasn't entirely certain what to do next. Maybe I'd take Ares's advice. The future seemed muddled, impossibly murky.

As I sat there, I let the feelings I'd been repressing fill me, infuse my veins. It was a slow process, and we sat in silence, the three of us, father, mother, and daughter. I felt sorrow, and happiness, content and unrest, uncertainty and exhaustion. But at least I was feeling something.

Ares picked up a bag of McDonald's off the dashboard. "It's a little cold," he said. "But you were passed out when I got it, and I didn't want to wake you."

"Thanks." I took the bag and peered inside: a plastic water bottle, soggy fries, and a hamburger. I ate the whole meal. I had a feeling it wouldn't matter either way; everything would taste like cardboard.

After I finished, I drew up my knees to my chin. "Where are we?" I asked.

"Long Island. Just outside the camp."

My breath hitched. "So this is where… This is where I leave her?"

Ares, to his credit, looked sympathetic. "It's the best thing for her. You can't take care of her, not properly. And not through any fault of your own. To shelter a demigod of power in the mortal world, without powers of your own… It's selfish, firstly, and secondly, it would require extreme lengths."

I nodded. "I… I know. I just… she's my whole world. She's been my whole world for so long."

He twisted his mouth to one side. "The camp doesn't allow mortals within its bounds, but I can make you a deal. This doesn't have to be the last time you ever see her."

My head snapped up. "You can… you can make it so that I can see her again?"

"Not for a long while," he cautioned. "She'll need training before she can brave the mortal world again. As her powers get stronger, so will her appeal to monsters."

"Powers. You mean like… strength?"

Ares shrugged. "Children of Poseidon have control over water. Children of Zeus have control over the skies, children of Apollo light, music, and healing, among others, children of Demeter plants, and children of mine have natural warrior instincts, incredible strength, and a logistic mind for battle."

I looked down at Jude. "She's so small."

"For now," he said. "But not for long."

"Anyway," I said, shaking my head. "You can… you can let me see her again?"

"What's today's date?" Ares said. "The twenty-seventh?"

"The thirtieth," I said. "The thirtieth of May."

"In a decade," Ares said, "come to this exact spot. You see that boulder up there?" He gestured to a large rock positioned on the side of the road. "In ten years, Jude will be waiting there. I'll make sure of it."

I looked at him with gratitude. "Thank you."

He nodded. "I know that I can't fix what happened between us."

"It was my fault, too," I said. "It wasn't as if I loved you."

"Even so," he said. "I think we can both agree that the principle blame falls on me. I can help you with Jude. Once she becomes a teenager, she'll be free to come and see you, if she wishes, but until then, she'll be under the jurisdiction of Chiron and Dionysus."

I blinked. "Who?" I didn't remember the names.

"The leaders of the camp," he explained. "They'll take good care of her. She'll grow up healthy and strong."

"But not with a mother," I said softly.

"This is the best life you can give her." Ares's tone was gentle. "Trust me."

I swallowed. "Can I hold her one last time?"

"By all means." He gave her to me. She stirred, her blue eyes opening wide.

So much to say, and so little time. How could a mother compensate for ten years of absence? How could I make up for a lifetime of missing?

I closed my eyes briefly, a tear snaking its way down my cheek. "Dear Jude," I said, my voice raspy. "I know you can't understand me. I know you won't remember this. So perhaps this is more for me than for you, but I need to say it all the same.

"I am so sorry I will never be there for your first birthday party. I'm sorry that I won't be there to witness your first steps, your first words. I'm sorry that I won't be there when you first have a crush on a boy, or a girl, or whomever you choose. I'm sorry that I won't be able to see you first learn to read, or write. I'm sorry that you'll grow up without me.

"But I'm doing this," I said, voice shaking, "to give you your best chance in life. I haven't always done right by you, but I'm doing right by you now. I love you, my Jude, more than you could ever know, and I'm so sorry that I couldn't do or be more."

Ares's hand fell on my shoulder. "What's her full name?" he asked, voice hushed.

"Jude Austen Bellerose," I said, voice choked. A sob escaped my lips.

"I'll make sure they know," he said. He tilted my chin up so that our eyes met. "I haven't always done right by you, but I'm doing right by you now. I may not love you, Libre Bellerose, but I'd be a fool if I let someone like you waste their life away. The world with you in it is a better place."

I looked down. "I'm going to find him."

"The boy that you fell in love with?"

I wiped my eyes. "I'm going to find Will. You were right. The regret is stupid. And then, after that, I'm going to tell Martel what you said—that it was an adoption, that I wanted to give Jude her best shot, that I wanted her to have things that I could never give her. I'm going to fix things. I'm not done just yet."

Ares smiled. He looked almost proud. "I knew you had it in you."

"I'm not always brave," I said. "I'm not always tough. But I'm a fighter."

"I know," he replied. "It's what drew me to you in the first place."

I let out a long, slow breath. "Goodbye, Ares." I gazed down at the bundle in my arms. On impulse, I reached down into my bag and brought out a notepad and a pen. On it, I wrote a list of phone numbers: Martel's landline, Aunt Lise's landline, the addresses of both apartments. "In case she ever needs me."

"I'll make sure she has it."

I lifted Jude up, drinking her in. "I love you, baby girl." My voice broke. "Thank you for giving me something to live for."

And then I handed her to Ares. He took her gingerly, carefully. "You know how to drive, yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah, I know how to drive."

"Car's yours. Take it wherever you need to go. Just don't drive it off any cliffs, alright?"

I smiled, though my sight was blurred with tears. "Thank you."

Ares dug in his pocket and brought out another drachma. "In case you should ever need me again."

I took the coin and pocketed it. "Thank you."

"Goodbye, Libre Bellerose."

And then he left, opening the door, taking Jude with him. I stifled a sob, watching them go. I was giving Jude her best chance, saving her from an almost-certain death. But my heart was breaking all the same.

Some part of me would always remember my daughter, but in a different way than I remember my mother and sister. She would be something pure in my memories, something good, something that gave my life meaning when it seemed destined to remain bleak and dreary. But now she was in a better place, leading a life better than the one I could ever give her. I'd done right by her, and I knew that. It was a comforting thought.

Shoved in the bottom of my purse was a single baby rattle. I'd cherish it always.

Jude was my first baby, and though my heart broke when she left me, it healed a little, too.

Some time later, I turned the key in the ignition, brought out a map from the glove box, and scanned the interstate. It was time to find Will. I had a score to settle.