Percy perched on the closed toilet lid in the bathroom at Grandma Zhang's and tried the Iris-message again. It was starting to feel futile, but he wanted to try one more time. He closed his eyes, focusing hard, trying to pull any glimmers of memory he could, anything that would be more specific and help him make his request. He could see Annabeth's face clearly in his mind, and hints of memories, just little flashes, had started to come back to him since he'd drunk the gorgon's blood in Portland. Not enough though. She liked books and architecture, she'd taken him to the library in some city, they'd fought a lot of monsters together, something about a bus, a glimpse of a ranch, an old-school sailing ship with Annabeth tied to the mast (that was weird since he didn't have any other context for the memory), sitting on a beach watching fireworks, a flash of being dressed up and walking past the Eiffel Tower (how was that possible?), and a few other things. He had remembered her last name: Chase. But no phone number or address had come back yet. Nothing that gave him a lock on her location. He'd tried a lot—Boston, New York, Washington DC, Paris, Chicago, Dallas, San Francisco, Phoenix, LA, Seattle, but nothing happened. The message wouldn't connect. Something about New York tugged on him strangely, though he couldn't be sure why. He decided to trust his gut, though. Instead of specifying New York City, this time when he tossed a drachma into the misty shower rainbow, he simply said, "Fleecy, please do me a solid. Show me Annabeth Chase in New York."

For a few moments, he thought it might actually connect. It looked like an image was starting in the mist. He could almost make out a large room and maybe the fuzzy structure of a ship? There were shapes moving around it, but it was like looking through a grainy TV screen—nothing was distinct enough to see. And then the image blinked and went out.

"No!" Percy stood up, moving closer to the rainbow even as the misty image faded. "Come on, that was almost something!"

Fleecy's voice drifted through the rainbow. "Sorry, Percy Jackson. I tried, but something's blocking the call. I can't get through."

Percy blew out a frustrated huff. "Got it, Fleecy. Thanks for trying."

He swiped through the rainbow and sank down on the edge of the tub, putting his head in his hands. He sniffed and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Dammit," he muttered.

After a few moments, he reached back to turn off the shower. Then he stood up, took a deep breath, and left the bathroom, turning out the light behind him.

He really just wanted to go to bed, but he knew the next few days would be crazy and he'd feel a lot better tomorrow with clean clothes. Currently, he was wearing a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants borrowed from Frank's room, but he probably needed his own clothes for the morning. So he headed downstairs to the laundry room he'd seen off the kitchen.

Apparently he wasn't the only one who'd had this idea. Hazel was standing at the stove when he walked into the kitchen. She greeted him with a smile and when she spotted his dirty clothes said, "I just threw a few things in the washing machine. You can add yours if you want."

"Thanks." Percy smiled gratefully, then headed into the laundry room. The washer was just filling up, so he tossed in his clothes, added a little extra detergent, then shut the lid and went back out to the kitchen. "What are you making?"

"Popcorn." Hazel tilted the cover off the skillet to show him the unpopped kernels in the bottom of the pan. "I know you have the microwave kind now, but I couldn't find any, and I just don't think it's as good."

"I agree." Percy leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. A memory flashed into his mind. "My mom always makes popcorn on the stove at Christmas. She says it's the real stuff."

Hazel glanced at him. "So your memories are coming back?"

"Some of them. Not enough yet." Percy debated whether to say anything else, but Hazel had been in Iris's store with him when Fleecy had failed to reach Annabeth. He swallowed and said, "I tried to call my girlfriend again, but no luck. Fleecy almost got something, but then she said it just wouldn't connect. Like maybe someone was blocking it."

Hazel studied him for a moment. Then she said, "Tell me about her."

"What?"

"Your girlfriend. Why don't you tell me about her? Maybe that'll help bring the memories back faster."

"Okay." Percy took a deep breath, thinking. "Well, here's what I've remembered so far…"

He told Hazel some of the things he'd remembered about Annabeth, and a few of the flashes of memories of things they'd done that had returned. And she was right—as he talked, some new memories started to creep up. Hazel was a good listener, too. When the popcorn was finished, they sat down at the kitchen table with it. Once Percy ran out of memories about Annabeth, which was quicker than he would have liked, he asked Hazel more about her time at Camp Jupiter and New Rome. She even ended up sharing a few things about her life in Alaska and New Orleans, though he got the sense there were parts of it she still wasn't ready to talk about. And that was okay. By the time the popcorn was gone, though, he was feeling a lot better.

"Thanks, Hazel," Percy said. "This was great."

"Definitely." Hazel yawned. "Do you think we need to set up a watch for the ogres?"

Percy twitched back the kitchen window curtains. Outside, the monsters' fires were burning low and he caught the sound of massive snoring. "Nah. I think we'll be okay. We'll probably be up before they are. And we need the sleep."

"Sounds good." Hazel pushed herself up from the table, patting Percy's arm as she walked past him. "See you in the morning, Percy."

"See you in the morning." He sat there for a few minutes after she left, watching the low burning fires through the trees and trying to recall more specific details of the last time he'd faced these guys. There was a vague memory of dodgeballs and Annabeth punching someone, but he couldn't remember the specifics. Finally, he gave it up and went into the laundry room to move the clothes to the dryer. Then he headed up the stairs, his eyelids suddenly weighing a thousand pounds. He found an available guest room and collapsed into a surprisingly comfy bed. A statue of an elephant in the corner seemed to be waving its trunk at him. Percy sleepily waved back at it as his head hit the pillow.

Another memory came back to him as he was drifting off to sleep. He and Annabeth were sitting on the end of a dock, holding hands, their feet dangling in the water as they watched some kids in orange t-shirts paddling canoes farther out on the lake. That was it. But it made something in Percy's chest feel lighter as he drifted off to sleep.

Over the next few days, Annabeth threw herself into helping Leo complete the Argo II. She barely slept and kept forgetting to eat. Incidentally, her body eventually just shut down on her and she fell fast asleep at a drafting table.

She woke with a start sometime later, disoriented. It took a few moments of blinking to realize she was in Bunker 9. The room was quiet and empty, except for Leo standing at another table nearby, eyes bloodshot, fiddling with engine parts. Maybe trying to reattach something? Blearily, she asked him, "What time is it?"

"Almost six."

"A.M. or P.M.?"

Leo gave a small laugh. "A.M. Do you have an alarm set? Something keeps buzzing over there."

Annabeth paused to listen. "Oh, it's my phone." She dug it out from under a pile of papers. The screen read Sally Jackson. At 6 a.m.? Annabeth thought. "Hi, Sally, what's—"

She was immediately cut off by Sally breathlessly telling her about a phone call she'd received late last night, after she and Paul were in bed. She'd woken up to it ringing, but by the time she got there, it had stopped. There was a voicemail, though. Sally paused, then said, her voice quavery, "Annabeth. He called."

Annabeth barely remembered the flight into Manhattan after Sally told her Percy had left a voicemail. She recruited Blackjack to give her a ride; he'd been helping her out a lot the past few months. When they reached the Upper East Side and landed outside the Jackson-Blofis apartment building, she patted his neck and promised him a doughnut as soon as they were back at camp. Blackjack whickered and gave her a gentle nudge with his nose.

As soon as Sally buzzed her in, Annabeth tore past the doorman and sprinted up the stairs. By the time she reached the fifth floor, she was out of breath and probably looked a little crazy, but Sally didn't even seem to notice when she answered the door. Her eyes were red, but she was beaming. She didn't waste any time, just took Annabeth's arm and practically dragged her down the hall to the phone, then pressed play.

"Mom. Hey, I'm alive…"

Hearing his voice winded her like a punch to the gut. Annabeth gripped the edge of the sidetable, knuckles white, as a flood of emotions washed over her. When the message ended, she realized she didn't take in a word—she had just been listening to his voice. "Can you—can you play it again?" she asked Sally, her voice a little hoarse.

Sally didn't even ask why; she just pressed the button. This time, Annabeth closed her eyes, trying to focus on the words of the message.

"Mom. Hey, I'm alive. Hera put me to sleep for a while, and then she took my memory, and…anyway, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I'm on a quest. I'll make it home. I promise. Love you."

Annabeth's brain whirred, trying to process what she already knew (Hera put me to sleep for a while and then she took my memory [thanks, Hera, Annabeth thought with a growl]) along with the new information (I'm alive…I'm okay…I'm on a quest…I'll make it home). But it was hard to think when her heart was jumping up and down, practically clapping its hands, chanting: he's alive, he's alive, he's alive.

"I thought maybe he called you, too?" Sally asked hopefully. "Especially since you told me about that dream the other night."

Annabeth shook her head. "He didn't." Immediately, though, her brain picked up this new thread, trying to figure out why that might be. Maybe he hadn't remembered her number? Or maybe he just didn't remember me and that dream was a lie, the bitter part of her thought, but she pushed it away. Percy was alive. He was okay. And if he'd remembered his mom's phone number, then there was hope. I will make him remember me, she thought fiercely.

Sally must have mistaken her silence, and possibly fierce look, because she said, "At least he's alive."

"For now," Annabeth muttered, mind spinning as it suddenly caught on the words I'm on a quest and ran with them. Where the heck was he at and who was he on a quest with? That's my job, the bitter part of her whined. Then she caught the stricken look on Sally's face and realized what she'd said. "Oh gods, Sally, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that. I just can't believe he actually called." Her voice caught and she crossed her arms, blinking back tears. To distract herself, she asked, "Did that sound like a train whistle in the background?"

Sally nodded. "I called the number back. It's a train station outside Anchorage, Alaska."

"Um, what?"

"I know." Sally sighed. "I asked the person who answered if they knew where the train that had just left was headed, but they didn't know. He could be anywhere. In Alaska." She gave a shaky laugh. "Unbelievable."

"But he's alive," Annabeth said, the realization finally starting to sink in. "And he remembered you. That's a good sign."

Sally looked at her for a moment, then held out her arms. Annabeth stepped forward and hugged Percy's mom, both of them savoring the very real hope that was starting to take hold.

*I hope Annabeth and Sally's reactions to Percy's call don't feel OOC, but I feel like their nerves were probably pretty shot by this point, so getting this phone call might have been a little overwhelming at first. Also, I love Percy and Hazel's friendship in SoN, so wanted to throw a little bit of that in here, too.*