Homecoming
Chapter 19: Sons and Daughters
Percy could not stop fidgeting. It was bad enough that the past few weeks had traveled at such breakneck velocity that neither he nor Annabeth had managed to so much as catch their breath. Since returning from San Francisco the school year had seemed to accelerate in a blur as though Kronus had returned to torment the pair.
Before they had known it, their finals were upon them, and though they had been given the privilege of being home schooled, largely to ensure the demigods felt safe and protected, they were required to return to school to complete their exams. Thus, after spring break, their lives had been devoted to studying and preparation for the final exams of their high school career. Three weeks of studying for three days of test taking did not seem like a fair trade off, but they had managed it.
For Annabeth, she had done exceptionally well on her exams, and despite the difficulty her dyslexia caused her normal studies, she managed to secure a place on the A/B honor roll. Percy meanwhile, had succeeded in completing his senior year with B's and C's, a far cry from his past, where he had struggled to make any grade higher than a D. And as for Sally, she could not be prouder of her son or her daughter-to-be.
And so, here he was, sitting in an over-stuffed auditorium, fidgeting nervously as his classmates, many of whom he did not know, sat in a similar arrangement. The graduation gown was too restraining, the hat was stupid, and Percy just wanted to get his diploma and go. But he craned his head to the bleachers, his attention immediately singling out his mother who watched him with watery eyes, her hand over her mouth and an aura of sheer pride radiating from her entire being. A smile and a half wave to her and Percy turned his attention back to the stage, waiting as it were for his name to be called. Despite his nervous energy and hyperactive mind, he could not deny how much he was hoping this was really happening, that this wasn't some twisted dream taunting his desire only to pull the rug out from under him.
He had watched with so much pride as Annabeth had been called up to the stage he feared his heart would burst. Upon receiving her diploma, her irises immediately focused upon him, a radiant smile upon her face as her eyes misted with the realization that she had accomplished this milestone. Neither Percy nor Annabeth would admit it aloud, but they had doubts either would live long enough to achieve what so many took for granted.
These people had never fought in two wars, fought Titans and giants and primordial beings. Had never fallen into and crawled their way out of hell. When taken into that context, Percy could not help but feel swallowed by the weight of it all.
Interestingly, as his attention was drawn to nearly everything within the gymnasium, his ADHD just not allowing him to focus on a singular point, he took note of how many of his fellow classmates seemed abundantly bored. He supposed it made sense to him. The largest concern these kids had was acne and low grades, getting grounded on Friday or being rejected by their crush. Not whether they'd live through the summer because the godly world just could not leave them alone long enough without falling apart more than once in a lifetime.
This only further added to Percy's feelings of disconnection with those around him, with mortals who were effectively blind to the world they lived in. This had been a struggle for both him and Annabeth, the envy they felt at how overly simplified the lives of mortals were. Working a crummy job and paying a mortgage they had taken on bad advice seemed a vacation when compared to trekking through the body of primordial entity, or holding up the sky, or bathing in the river of the dead to gain the strength needed to save the world. Truthfully, even other demigods were blind to what he and Annabeth had accomplished, and that had always made him feel like a pariah among others.
But for once, despite all that he had endured and accomplished, he could not deny his feelings of normalcy as he waited to receive his diploma. He was surprised to know he was graduating, let alone that he had survived long enough to graduate.
"Perseus Brian Jackson," the name read out, startling the young man from his musings. He had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he had not even realized he and his row had made their way up to the stage, his feet had seemingly carried him without his notice.
For a moment longer than intended, he startled in surprise before shaking off the reality and ascending the stairs to the stage. Immediately shaking hands with the principal and superintendent before receiving his bound diploma, his eyes instantly locked onto Annabeth, her smile soft, but seeped with pride as she mouthed the words, 'I love you,' to him, to which he returned. His attention then focused on his mother in the stands, Frederic and the rest of his family seated beside her, all beaming with pride.
And like Percy, always one to act on impulse, he turned and hugged the principal, much to the older man's surprise, yet the gathered amusement of the audience. With a smile so wide that his cheeks hurt, he made his way from the raised platform and returned to his seat, his attention now fixed upon the achievement held within his hands. He could not believe he had succeeded, that he had made it through this milestone of his life.
Little victories that added to larger triumphs...that's what this was to him.
It wasn't until his neighbor nudged him, letting him know that everyone was now standing for the final rotation of the tassel upon the cap, signifying that they had graduated, that he was brought out of his own thoughts, It was always so strange how time would play on his mind, his ADHD had a way of carving whole parts of his day away, but he didn't mind it so much this time.
As the announcement, acknowledging the graduating class of 2010 was spoken to the auditorium, chaos erupted as the collective student body tossed their hats in the air, students began jostling each other, and the administration's planned exit strategy of students filing out of the gymnasium was tossed right out the window. Graduates moved to find their friends or made a beeline for their family, collectively creating a mass of bodies that seemed all too unpleasantly familiar to Percy.
Immediately his eyes spun around the mass of bodies. Looking, searching desperately for the pooling honey-blond curls that danced and swirled the length of Annabeth's back. He felt his breathing catch in his lungs. Desperation filling his need to find her. The tension building as he continued to seek her out, all while being bumped or jostled by his classmates.
"Home," he whispered against the his ring, feeling the needed tug of its matched pair amid the sea of bodies. Instinctively, Percy navigated to where Annabeth was, need, desperate and pure gripping every nerve of his being as he made his way that guided him closer to her. He felt her immediately, her arms wrapping tightly around him, her face buried against his shoulder, and her body shivering in the same lost hopelessness that had gripped him.
It had been a while since either had had a panic attack, and yet as the bodies pressed against them, the noise and chaos that drowned out their search for each other, it seemed eerily similar to so many occurrences of their time in Tartarus.
Swarmed by enemies, the frightened need to get back to one another as they fought their way through the horde that wanted to separate them, the panic, the horror, the terror was all too real, and for a moment, they both found themselves back in their nightmare. Gods, how Percy hated feeling so weak, so dependent upon her, and he knew she felt it too, the coiled strength of her arms latched around his waist was proof of that. As they stood together, holding each other, he could not tell if the shaking in their bodies was from her or him, or a combination of the pair of them. He also did not know if it was fear or relief that they were together that was the cause of it, and that uncertainty scared him.
A hand, clamping on his shoulder drew his attention to Paul, his own teacher's gown adorning his frame as he watched the pair with concerned eyes, as though recognizing exactly what was happening to them. He stood where he was, his body shielding them from much of the chaos of the students still mulling about, looking for friends and family. He just stood there, not saying a word, not bringing attention to the near breakdown of his stepson and eventual daughter-in-law, he just remained, a supportive smile on his gentle face and a look of utmost pride emanating from his eyes.
"I don't know why we always practice an organized departure, it never happens," Paul said, half-joking, his head craning to view the chaos of the student body, yet mostly averting his attention from the two young demigods to give them a moment to collect themselves without the anxiety or shame that often follow when one or the other has a panic attack in the midst of an audience.
Paul did not draw attention to it, did not call them out for the impractical panic that they felt when being bumped and pushed aside, separated and unable to find the stabilizing force within their lives when the chaos of a simple high school graduation had exploded. He just stood there, shielding the pair from the madness around them, and neither Percy nor Annabeth could find the words to express how much they loved this man for his careful attention to their emotional needs.
As he felt his breathing begin to calm, Percy pulled away to look into the eyes of Annabeth, the fear that had gripped her when the students began surging to find friends and family fading from her perfect features as Percy captured her lips in a gentle kiss, both as a reassurance that they were together, and a promise it would always be that way. They both hated how uneasy they felt in their own lives, feeling unbalanced and unstable when not together, and something as simple as a collection of mortal teenagers screaming and celebrating could rattle them both so completely.
The only comfort they could find from this was that, months ago, such an occurrence would have triggered a panic attack, while they had now managed to stave off the paralyzing fear long enough to find each other. Small victories and little comfort was all they could glean from this moment.
"Come on," Paul had said when he was confident the worst of their anxieties had settled as he turned his attention to the bleachers. "If I don't get you over to your mother and your father soon, they're going to yell at me for wasting good picture time."
Guided by Paul, the three made their way over to their family, where Percy was immediately engulfed in a smothering hug by his mother who kissed his cheek and babbled about how handsome he looked in his cap and gown and how proud she was of him. Meanwhile, Frederic, while only marginally more restrained than Sally, embraced his daughter in much the same delighted sense of pride and joy at her accomplishment. For several minutes the group had talked about how proud they were of the pair for having graduated. Not that it was ever in doubt, but that this was a significant milestone in their lives, and they both deserved to enjoy it.
At some point, Percy's stomach rumbled, a sign that it was now approaching 1 pm, and they had planned to have lunch before returning to the Blofis home for a makeshift celebration. But first, they needed to take as many pictures as Percy's stomach would allow. And so they posed, Percy, Sally, Paul and Estelle. Annabeth, Frederic, Helen, Matthew and Bobby. Then to switch it up, Percy and Annabeth in several pictures, a few of which with Estelle. Annabeth with Percy's family and, strangely enough, Percy with Annabeth's family. Then, there was the group shot of all of them, taken by a classmate who happened to be passing by.
But the favorite picture for both Sally and Frederic was a candid photo of Annabeth and Percy. At this time, she had unzipped her gown and had jumped on Percy's back, his arms hooked under her knees and giving her a piggyback ride as she had one arm wrapped about his shoulder while the other pointed in the direction of the waiting car. Both teens had brilliantly bright smiles on their faces, each having their attention solely on the other, and if not for the knowledge that they were heading to the parking lot, it looked fully as though Annabeth was pointing towards their future. After the picture had been snapped, Sally forward the image to Frederic, his eyes soft and pleased at the silly acts of his daughter and her fiance, an image of love and normalcy for the pair that brought a hopeful gleam to his eye.
Despite the pain and tragedy of their past, it was an image of hopeful resilience for the pair of demigods and their families.
Once Sally and Frederic had met their camera happy quota, the families had piled into their respective vehicles and headed towards the Blofis residence, Paul calling ahead to order five large pizzas to be delivered, which, having timed it nearly perfectly, arrived approximately 15 minutes after they returned home. As the commenced the celebration, drinking soda and eating pizza, playing board games and laughing at silly jokes and stories they shared, it felt like a true family celebration.
As the personal celebration began to wind down, Sally and Paul excused themselves, depositing Estelle into Percy's arms who took his role as big brother to heart and began playing peek-a-boo with his sister. Soon however, his parents returned to dining room, their arms laden with gifts and brightly wrapped packages, gifts of their graduation celebration.
"What is all this?" Percy asked, as he and Annabeth gawked at the mountain of presents piled on the table.
"You didn't actually think you'd get away with graduating high school and not get presents did you?" Sally remarked, smiling at the pair of demigods who still looked fully gobsmacked by the teetering tower of gifts.
"These are presents for the both of you," Frederic smiled knowingly, his eyes looking over the stack at the two teens. "I believe Sally even said there were some gifts from your camp friends included..."
"And Percy," Paul smiled, taking his daughter from his stepson's arms and sitting at the table, "even my mother sent a present...though I'm not sure what it is."
This truly surprised the black-haired teenager, as Paul's mother had never shown any familial notice to the young man before. As they had tucked in, preparing to distribute the gifts to the recently graduated heroes, a knock sounded at the front door, drawing everyone's attention to the entryway of the house. Confusion, and perhaps a touch of concern settled upon the collective family as Paul rose to greet the visitor.
"Uh, Percy, Annabeth, I think it's for you," he replied hesitantly, causing the two teens to look at one another before rising to greet their visitor.
When Paul had stepped out of the way, they had immediately been greeted by Hestia, her petite frame dwarfed by the presence of Poseidon and Athena, neither of whom seemed pleased to be in the others presence, nor did they seem satisfied their the smaller goddess had her hand firmly on the forearm of the aforementioned deities.
As Percy's eyes fell upon his father, his jaw set in a firm visage of conflicted emotions; confusion, hurt, and perhaps a touch of hope warring across his features. In contrast, Annabeth's jaw had fallen open, her expression one of absolute shock and dismay at the appearance of her mother. Neither hero of Olympus had even so much as spoken to their godly parent let alone seen them in nearly a year, and their arrival cast an unwelcome anxiety upon both young adults.
Curiosity of the arrivals had caused the other members of their to emerge from the dining room to see who had arrived, Bobby and Matthew deeply confused by the tension that seemed to have found itself into the group who, just moments ago were laughing and happy.
"Hello Sally," Poseidon replied, his eyes twinkling briefly as his eyes had fallen upon his former lover. For her part, Sally did not swoon or blush at the memories of the god before her, rather her attention was drawn solely upon her son and the unmitigated fear Poseidon's presence would mean for him.
Likewise, Athena glanced simply into the home, her eyes falling upon Annabeth's father and with a simple, "Frederic," her greeting seemed complete.
The tension and awkward situation surrounding all in attendance was broken simply by Hestia's gentle smile and demure countenance as she spoke, "Forgive my intrusion my heroes, but your godly parents had expressed a desire to speak to you. I remind you, you are under no obligation to do so, you are under my protection, but, should you choose..."
"No...no, it-its fine..." Annabeth said at last, her voice finding purchase in her determination to speak to her mother. Turning back to her family, she offered a brief smile before replying, "We'll only be a minute."
Percy had said nothing during this time, his jaw still locked, yet he lowered his eyes and his shoulders slouched. Still not sure what he was feeling, he felt comforted warmth as Hestia came to stand between them, taking each of their hands in hers and leading them from the home. As Poseidon and Athena walked down the pathway, separating at the end of the sidewalk, Annabeth and Percy were each guided in the direction of the godly parent who sired them, still both aware that even as their paths diverged, Hestia was ever present, holding their hand.
As Percy was guided down the cul-de-sac, he refused to let go of Hestia's hand, and yet, despite her warmth, he could not help but shiver at the emotions raging through him. He didn't know if he wanted to yell and curse at his father, whether to hit him, or hug him...and yet, so much of his own mind felt an apathetic absence within the center of his being. Repeatedly, his attention turned back over his shoulder, watching Annabeth be guided by her own mother, a second Hestia holding her hand as well.
"Do not fear brave one, she will be safe, I promise," the goddess of the hearth offered a small smile in support as the trio came to stop at a nearly bench nestled at the entry of a wooded walking trail. Taking a seat, Poseidon looked around at the cluster of houses that made up the suburban neighborhood, his eyes working with considerable interest of something to distract his attention.
Hesitantly, Percy took a seat beside him, his hand quickly scooping up a handful of gravel as he began absentmindedly throwing pebbles into the underbrush. Hestia did not join the pair, but rather vanished from view, likely to give father and son their privacy as they attempted to bridge the divide that separated them.
After a moment of consideration, Poseidon turned to his son with a hope filled smile. "The neighborhood is nice. It's quiet, peaceful."
When Percy's only response was to toss another couple of rocks into the wooded terrain, Poseidon sighed in frustration, uncertain how to continue. "Percy, I..."
"So what do you need my help for this time?" he asked, his body slumping forward, arms resting on his knees as he separated his fingers and allows the pebbles to slide through his hand like the sands of an hourglass.
"Pardon?"
"What is it this time?" Percy asked one more time, unable to restrain the bitterness he felt rising in his chest. "Did Zeus lose his favorite underpants and I'm somehow being blamed for it? Is some other great, ancient enemy of the gods rising and I'm needed to battle it again and shred what little sanity I've managed to scrape together, or is it just that the universe saw I was actually enjoying my day, I've actually graduated high school and was all like, 'nope, let's go fuck his life up, because we can't let Percy be happy and enjoy himself'."
Concern drew itself across his features as Poseidon observed his son for several minutes, contemplating how to continue. "Is that how you see my presence? As a harbinger of ill-tidings?"
Despite his best effort, despite desperately wanting to deny the feelings he felt raging inside him, Percy could only shrug his shoulders as if he was not sure what he felt. "I have eyes, and I have history, and yeah, that kind of goes hand-in-hand.
"Twelve years," he stated, his head bowed forward, falling against his chest as if the weight of all his memories could no longer be supported. "For twelve years I wondered who you were, what kind of person could leave someone so amazing as my mom, to make her carry the burden of raising me alone..."
"You were never a burden to her Percy," Poseidon said simply, his eyes fixing on the forest as he recalled memories of his own immortal existence and all that he had witnessed within the tides of time.
"Like you would know?" he asked, his words coming softly as he fought the stinging in his eyes. "You only claimed me when it was convenient to you, when you needed me to prove your innocence with the whole theft of Zeus' Master Bolt. And since that day, I've been nothing but a tool to you Olympians. Every interaction I've had has basically been what quest can I be thrown on to see ho much I can take before I'm permanently broken...or to debate whether or not the council wants to eliminate me.
"So yeah, guess what...you win, I'm broken, okay?" his words came shakily as he allowed the remaining pebbles to fall from his hand before burying his face in his palms. For several minutes all that could be heard was his breathing, labored and forced as he tried to reign in his arrant emotions. "D..." a pause, more breaths, more shaking that rocked the body of the young man as he fought against the worst of his fears. "Do you know...I can't even hold a sword anymore? Just touching one makes my hand shake so badly it falls out of my grip...how...how would I defend Annabeth and me if I can't even raise a weapon?"
Poseidon remained steadfastly quiet, his eyes never leaving the wooded area before them, yet his attention solely on his mentally tortured son. He wish he had been better at this sort of thing, but areas of the mind was Dionysus' realm, not his, and he was at a loss of what to say. The minutes stretched painfully long as father struggled with his thoughts on the matter while son gripped the tufts of his own hair, fighting desperately to stave off the panic attack he felt rising. He needed Annabeth, but she was not here right now, and he felt lost without that comfort.
"Where were you?" the words slipping past Percy's lips in a bare whisper, as if afraid of the answer that would be given. "Where were you when I needed you?"
"I was forbidden from helping..."
"Bullshit," Percy spat the word in defiance, his voice raw and vulnerable as he turned his moistened eyes to his father. "You're Poseidon, second in power only to Zeus. What could have stopped you if you wanted to help me, guide me...let me know I was going to be okay? I mean, I'm not, obviously, but lie to me damn it...you could have let me know I wasn't alone in this..."
At this, Percy could no longer restrain the fat tears that began sliding down the contours of his cheek and falling to his shirt. "Do you know, each of the seven, somewhere, some how, had guidance from their godly parent? Even Annabeth, for all the good a schizophrenic Athena was, still spoke to her. But in that entire time we traveled to Greece, you were the only one who never reached out..."
Poseidon sat straighter in his set, yet his body seemed to sag under the weight of his immortal responsibilities. "...the Fates are never kind Percy. You asked me what could have kept me from coming to you in your time of need, that is your answer. I had gleaned visions of what would have befallen the world, befallen you had I intervened.
"It had been my ardent hope that when you had defeated Kronus, you would have found peace, would have lived your life without further complications. But...I supposed Hera felt otherwise. While she would never outright say it, I believe she felt your generation of demigods had the best chance of defeating Gaea. In that, and in lieu of the outcome, I must give her some credit..."
"Credit? Wow, thanks for that..." Percy replied, his voice defeated as he slouched further in his place on the bench. "Do you know, when I got my memories back and Hera came to me in a dream, she wrote off my anger as a mere inconvenience?" he paused again as his face twisted against the grief of his memories. "My first Christmas with Annabeth, first Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day, my mom's birthday...the announcement of my mom's pregnancy...I'll never get any of that back, and Hera treated it as if I had just arrived late to the movies and missed the opening credits. As if my concerns were meaningless so long as she got what she wanted…
"...Did you even ever visit her?"
The sudden shift was not new to Poseidon. Being god of the seas, his mind was as ever flowing as the tides themselves, and it was easy for him to follow the flow of Percy's thoughts. "No." He said simply, his eyes darkening in realization of the source of Percy's feelings of hurt when it came to him.
"How many times did she pray to you? Ask you to let her know I was at least alive after Hera had kidnapped me?"
"Your mother had stopped after 37 prayers. In some way I believed she knew I was unable to intervene."
"Or she figured you just didn't give a damn. I mean, the only time you've ever come to visit me was when it concerned you. Fifteenth birthday, remember? And the only gift you ever game me was a sand dollar, and that was only to bribe the rivers gods to help during the war."
Allowing the comment to go unchallenged, Poseidon continued as though Percy had said nothing, "As for Annabeth, she was relentless. She prayed to me every day, devoted a portion of her offerings to me asking for some sign of where you were...why you were taken. How I could let this happen..."
"And yet you didn't answer them. You let my mother worry herself sick as to where I had been taken. If I was alive, if she'd ever see me again. And Annabeth...I heard about the state she was in at camp while I was gone. She spoke to no one unless giving orders about the Argo II. She hardly ate, barely slept, and couldn't even focus on menial tasks. And you just let them suffer."
"What could I have done?" Poseidon said, his words hanging in the air as he considered all actions. "Had I let either Sally or Annabeth know of your whereabouts, Annabeth would have torn a path across the country to retrieve you, and that would have jeopardized everything, or could have gotten the two of you killed by the Romans. But for what it is worth, I unleashed my fury upon Hera when she had taken you. If not for Zeus, I may well have destroyed her."
"Your wrath? Really?" Percy asked incredulously as he turned his sorrowful eyes back towards his father. Despite his feelings of betrayal and anger, there still existed a glimmer of hope that, despite his best efforts and most ardent desire, he could not extinguish. Hope that perhaps this all powerful being did have it within his immortal spirit to love him. "Was that because she had taken me, or because her actions set off the second Great Prophesy?"
"Both," Poseidon replied without preamble. For several minutes he allowed those word to linger in the air before finally continuing. "Hera is not one for rash judgment, and yet, she had no faith in the coming generation of demigods. Your group had already proven themselves in defeating Kronus, she felt it best to rely on the heroes we knew were proven, rather than on ones who might well fail..."
"And despite the war we all just limped our way out of; we were thrown back into another conflict. We didn't even have the time to recoup our numbers, lick our wounds...mourn our dead. Just, business as usual in the life of a disposable demigod."
"We do not consider any of you disposable," Poseidon objected, his attention turning towards his son who refused to return the gesture.
"Tell that to Athena," he whispered, as though afraid his slight would be heard by the goddess of wisdom. "I saw the Athenian coin she gave to Annabeth, saw hundreds, maybe thousands of those, braided in the hair of Ephialtes and Otis. How many of her own children did she sacrifice to get that statue back? What was it Annabeth called it...War of...Attitude?"
"Attrition," Poseidon corrected knowingly, his face turning back towards the woods.
"Right. Just, keep throwing bodies at the enemy until you wear them down, eventually one of them will get the job done. Same with the rest of us. We have a war to fight, why worry about our mental states, how fragile we are, what any of us want for our lives...just be good little tools, fight the enemies we tell you to fight, and don't forget, if you ever question us, we'll blast you to dust for having an opinion we don't like.
"Please, just...don't take any more from me...I can't...I just can't lose any more, I won't survive it..."
The silence again fell between the pair, neither knowing fully how to traverse the divide that separated them. For several minutes Percy began taking heaving gasps as he tried and failed to hold his fragile emotional state together. He couldn't deny he was angry, hurt, and desperately in need of Annabeth's presence to stabilize his anxiety. He had wondered, during these times of unstable emotional unrest, how his younger self, before he and Annabeth had fallen into Tartarus, would have handled these breakdowns. He hated how weak he felt in his own life.
"I did not mean you distress my son," Poseidon said softly, his voice rolling over the young man like waves cresting over the sand. "I had hoped, perhaps...to show to you that you are deeply important to me. I...there are so many things I wish I could undo, truly, but even I do not have that gift."
Slowly, his mind began to settle, his emotions calming within the storm of his being as he sat up, his face moist with tears but still reluctant and restrained. He remained as he was for several minutes, his attention fixed on his father, not sure how to continue or if he even wanted to. "So why did you come?" his words slid past his lips, finally voicing his thoughts on the matter, the question that had hung in the air since his arrival.
A sad, almost somber smile pulled at Poseidon's lips as he turned his attention once more onto the woods. "To say goodbye I suppose."
Uncertainty once more danced across Percy's features as he frowned in confusion. It wasn't as though his father had been an active part of his life. Most of their dialogue in fact had reinforced that idea, but for his father to arrive only to say goodbye was staggering to the young man. "I don't...what do you mean?"
While he did not face the black-haired demigod, his features did soften as he responded, "You and Annabeth, the two of you will be moving to California, to live in New Rome, correct? As you know, the Roman demigods worship, well, the Roman variants of our persona. Because of that I will not be permitted to walk through the city as I am…"
"So, what...you're just abandoning me again?"
"Not quite," Poseidon replied, reaching into the pocket of his Bermuda shorts and retrieving a small, spiral stone and holding it out for Percy to see. "This is the petrified shell of the oldest creature to ever exist on this world. It is so old in fact, I cannot even recall its name, but it is of special importance to me. I wish to gift it to you son. Should you wish to speak to me, and I know it is a lot to assume, but I can be summoned to that relic.
"I know that perhaps I may not have been there to support you as you needed, but...I do hope you know I wish to do better."
Percy dropped his head upon hearing his father's words, uncertain how he should feel about the exchange. As he remained as such, he felt the pressure of the air drop, a cool mist pass over him, and when he had turned back, his father was gone, leaving behind the petrified shell. Hesitantly, Percy wrapped his fingers around the gift, studying its intricate design and unique qualities, as the shuffling of small feet drew his attention to Hestia, who had reappeared to stand before him.
"Come my hero, let me return you to your family."
-0-
Annabeth followed Athena along the path she had selected, her fingers gripping the tiny hand of Hestia with fierce commitment, as though afraid letting go would leave her tumbling into the abyss of her own damning thoughts and fears. As she continued her journey however, she would crane her head to look over her shoulder, her attention focusing on the location Percy had followed his father.
"Stop fidgeting, you will be returned him in short order," Athena said with barely restrained exhaustion, as though she were tired of the simple act of Annabeth's distracted focus. As she had said this however, Athena paused against a chain link fence, her arms crossed against her chest.
Though she had exhibited a posture of concern, even uncertainty at how to address her daughter, her eyes were every analyzing, thoughtful even as she surveyed the blonde demigod. "I suspect you have questions you wish to ask of me," Athena said, her mouth drawn up in a straight line, her face and posture surrendering nothing of her perception in her initiated interaction.
For Annabeth, she was thrown by the sudden and direct question. Part of her acknowledged that this was Athena's way, direct and to the point, no wasted time or energy expended on needless pleasantries. Another part however was ever cautious, knowing that Athena never volunteered information without some ulterior intent hidden in the gesture.
Speaking to her mother was more treacherous than navigating a mine field, and far more detrimental to one's health. As she stood, considering how to respond to Athena's statement, the words were pulled from her lips involuntarily as if willed into being by the goddess of wisdom herself. "Why did you do it?"
Unsure why the question was left so open-ended, Annabeth simply crossed her arms, her expression matching that of her mother's. Athena however, simply tilted her head, as if Annabeth was a puzzle that mildly intrigued her. "Because it was necessary," the reply came, swift and poignant, as if it should not already be obvious.
Only momentarily did Annabeth consider that she had not specified the reason for her question. The answer given was therefore a catch all by the goddess of wisdom, an answer that seemed to satisfy all implied inquiries and one that left Annabeth frustrated and wondering whether she would ever get a straight answer.
Athena however, determined the root of her daughter's discontent with the response provided and spoke to clarify. "My statue had to be retrieved. Doing so had united the demigods, both Greek and Roman, and solidified our psyches. If you had not accomplished what you had, we all would have been obliterated to the whim of our infighting, to which Gaea would readily take advantage."
"Th-that's not what I was asking you about. Why did you take him?"
"Take him? You mean the son of Poseidon?"
"He has a name," Annabeth fired back, her jaw tightening in response to her mother's dismissal of her beloved fiance. "You should know it, he's only saved Olympus a handful of times, which means your life is counted among that collective."
"And you know that Hera was the orchestrator of his abduction. I had no part in that..."
"In taking Percy, yeah, I admit, that was all Hera, but you know that I'm aware that Hera would not have put a plan into motion without first consulting you. You're the goddess of wisdom and warfare, the strategist of Olympus, if Hera was crafting a plan to unite the camps in the fight against Gaea, she would have first asked you how to put it all together.
"But, you know, what's really bothering me this whole time, something I've never been able to bring up to Percy, was that when his memories were taken, he still remembered me. It was so sweet, and he was so embarrassed to tell me in front of everyone that I was all he could remember when he woke up, I was all that gave him strength as he stumbled toward Camp Jupiter.
"But Hera had indiscriminately stolen everything from Jason, and I can't help but think she could have done the same to Percy. Nothing was stopping her. So really, there's only two possible reasons why she didn't. Either the Curse of Achilles prevented her from stealing his memories of me...because I was his anchor, or she intentionally left his memories of me in place to give him purpose, something to strive for, an objective to seek out.
"Jason...he was always about duty. If he knew the world was in trouble, he would be the first to stand on the front line and fight to save it. But Percy is all about loyalty, and he's...he's most loyal to me," her words hitching as they began tumbling from her mouth, voicing her theory of why Percy's memories of her were left, and what they meant for them. "You said it yourself, he'd let the world burn if it meant saving me. Oh gods...tell me you didn't..." Annabeth's words choked in her throat as she turned her steely eyes towards Athena, challenging the goddess to reject her hypothesis, hoping even as the words poured from her lips that she was wrong.
"There is a question in there you wish to ask, then ask it," Athena responded simply, her eyes fixating upon her daughter.
"I'm right, aren't I?" A choked sob burst from her lips as her fixed her eyes in challenge to her mother. "Hera used me to manipulate Percy into fighting Gaea. Left the memories of me, the person he cared most about to encourage him to keep going. And with Percy taken, she manipulated me into joining the prophesy as well, because she knew I would do anything to find him.
"But that wasn't her plan, it wasn't a strategy she came up with was it Athena? You planned all of it, didn't you? You played us like a gods damned fiddle, using our relationship against us; you were the one who influenced everything in Hera's scheme to involve Percy and me into that damn quest. Everything that happened was your fault! Tell me I'm wrong! Please...tell me you didn't do this..."
"This is why you are the greatest of my children. Even when ignorance is preferable, you still seek the truth,"
"Damn you!" Annabeth screamed, her hand gripping the fence railing as it supported her from falling to her knees at the implications that not only had Hera used the two of them, manipulated them to involve themselves in the Prophesy of Seven, but that it had been planned out and orchestrated by Athena. "I wanted to be wrong...I didn't want to think you could have done that to me...to us..."
It was all too much, all of it. Percy's abduction, his memories being stolen, the months of crippling panic that he was dead or lost...or that when she would finally find him, he would have no memory of her. All of those months of not knowing had chipped away at her resolve, leaving her desperate and dependent upon the silly Seaweed Brain of boy who had claimed her heart. All of their feeling for each other, their friendship, their trust, their love, all of it was all used to exploit them and to act in accordance with the will of the gods. And all of it was the result of Athena's careful planning. "I hate you," Annabeth said, her words slipping past her lips as a bare whisper, and yet, to the goddess of wisdom, it was the loudest sound in existence.
But in that simple moment when she had exposed the truth, all that she had hoped to deny came rushing forth in a blinding fury. Her conveniently timed meeting of Minerva in the subway tunnels, the argument in which she all but disowned Annabeth as her child. The taunting of her pride that would put her on the trail of the Mark of Athena because only she could find the statue. The results that came from her success, and ultimately led to her and Percy being dragged into Tartarus. The guilt that she could never relinquish because Percy had chosen to fall with her. All of it was born from the machinations of Athena's twisted planning.
"What did I ever do to deserve this? Why did you do this to me...to us," forcing herself to look at her mother, her eyes streaming with tears of hurt and betrayal, she still sought the answers no matter how much she did not want them.
For several minutes, Athena studied her daughter as though uncertain how to proceed with the conversation, or even what direction she should carry their discussion. With no other words to offer, she spoke the truth that came so naturally to her. "Because you were born into greatness."
The words seemed to stir something within Annabeth as she looked up at her mother, her eyes searching for some understanding in the words that held no such sentiment. "What?"
Turning her attention in the direction to which Poseidon and Percy had traveled, Athena considered her words longer than necessary, as if contemplating their meaning. "Regardless of what the other gods may say about their children, the simple truth is that, you and your beloved are the greatest demigods of this age. Together, you defeated Kronus, and that was only the capstone of your accomplishments. If we were to defeat Gaea, you and Poseidon's spawn would be needed. And in all honesty, many of us on council, when we learned of Gaea's stirring, feared that the two of you would feel that your role was perhaps...fulfilled, your duty to us excised.
"Only you would be strong enough to find my statue and right a centuries old wrong, unite the camps and with it, the gods fractured psyches. And only together would the two of you be able to traverse the deepest pits of the underworld and close the Doors of Death. That was why Gaea was so relentless in her pursuit of the you both, because the two of you were more powerful than any demigods to walk this earth. You, who were to vanquisher of Kronus, Gaea's most beloved son, were needed to see her fall. She was terrified of the power the two of you had together, and we were terrified that you would choose not to engage in another war so soon after the Second Titan War. So, we took the choice from you."
Annabeth let the words wash over her, felt the bitterness swelling within her at being used by the gods, manipulated and maneuvered into their actions all because she and Percy were needed to again save the world, because no one else could. It was not in Athena's nature to praise anyone, and yet, she had flat out stated that the war could not have been won without Percy and Annabeth at the forefront. Annabeth had wondered only briefly if Athena had ever praised anyone so resolutely, and it was then that she realized, that before she fell into Tartarus, that would have been enough. But it wasn't any more. She had lost too much of herself from her time in the pit, to the point she had slowly come to acknowledge that she was no longer the same Annabeth she had been before. Her only constant was Percy, the security to drive away so much of the fear and anxiety and crippling terror that threatened to overwhelm her on a daily base. He was her castle, just as she was for him...and her conversation with Athena had told her all she needed to know about how little the gods cared for their children.
"He has a name," she said simply, coming back to her earlier point that, despite all that he had done, her mother still refused to acknowledge the importance of Percy in all of this, or his place in her life.
"Excuse me?"
"Percy, he has a name and it is Percy Jackson. And I do not understand why you can not let go of your arrogance and pride long enough to credit him for everything he's done. From the moment I stepped foot in Camp Half-Blood, we were told names have power, and yet you can't be bothered to give him the credit he deserves or even acknowledge his place in my life by stating his name.
"This entire time you've been telling me that the gods needed us for this war...so, yeah, all the nightmares and horrors we faced, it was all worth it because the world keeps on spinning. I get it, I really do. I may hate it to the marrow of my bones, but I get it. Doesn't change the fact that we're broken beyond repair," she said as a few bitter tears slid along her cheek. "And yet, you still refuse to give him the respect he deserves. Percy means everything to me, he is my everything. He's my life...and you can't even be bothered to say his name..."
For the briefest of moments, Athena's face softened in light of her daughter's commitment to her beloved, insisting that he deserved all the respect and adulation for his accomplishments that she received. And for that moment, that briefest glimpse of her inner-turmoil, Athena seemed almost human. "You are not misspoken," she said after a pause, her eyes staring into the distance, as if something more interesting than her daughter had caught her attention.
"I know this is of little comfort to you, but we gods...we are slaves to our station." she said, her words coming hauntingly eerie, as though she were speaking words she did not know she was capable of. "Hephaestus will ignore anything that is not some machine he has crafted. Aphrodite will prattle on ad nauseam about fashion trends and trashy magazines. As for me, I'm never able to see beyond my own mind…and our children mirror much of our own station...
"I know this does not make the situation easier, but I want you to understand, it is not contempt or malice that I dismiss your love...that I dismiss Perseus and all that he has accomplished along side you. I am not human, child. If I come across something that defies logic, I am bemused by its existence. It is not a conscious dismissal of it, I am simply unable to comprehend its place in my understanding. Love has no place in a logical mind. I cannot rationalize its purpose; save for the continuation of all living beings, and even then, love is not needed. In truth, and in spite of what Aphrodite may believe, it serves no function.
"And yet, your relationship with...Perseus," Athena continued, stumbling over the name as it tried to escape her lips. "It is the strangest of all things I have witnessed in a millennium. Separately you are both extremely capable, but together, you have defied the Fates themselves. And it baffles me."
Annabeth stood quietly, her eyes cast down and away from her mother's face, not sure what to make of everything that was disclosed. She had never known Athena to be so open with her inner thoughts, and more importantly, Annabeth was not sure what to make of all of this. She felt deeply betrayed by her own mother for knowing her part in the abduction of Percy and the manipulation of the pair of them to ensure they would be part of the seven heroes. There was simply too much to absorb all at once.
"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked simply, hoping to center some context in their discussion.
Once more turning her eyes to the horizon, Athena considered how to respond. "After Apollo had regained his godhood, took his place back on the Olympian council, he took us all to task. Telling us how poorly we treat our demigod children, how we only interact with them when we need something or the only way we can gain your support is generally through threat of death. He said we must do better, because our actions will only lead to our children rejecting us.
"It is a strange symbiosis if I am to put it into words. But Apollo's declaration has made many of us consider our own past actions. We gods, we maintain our strength and seats of power through the love and worship of our children...and yet, I am curious to know what you get out of that relationship?"
As Annabeth squared her shoulders, her hands gripped the fence while her attention was drawn upon the horizon, similar to Athena's own stance. Regardless of what Annabeth may have wished to say, no words passed between them, to which the goddess of wisdom merely nodded her head, as if expecting no other answer.
A shifting shimmer caught the attention of mother and daughter as they turned towards the distortion within the air, the cause eliciting a small smile from the goddess. "It would appear my time is up," she said, turning towards her daughter. "You should know the burden Hestia has taken, claiming herself as your patron. Many of the Olympian council were furious that she would do such a thing, preventing us from having any interaction with you or your...Perseus, without her permission."
"It is a burden I gladly accept without hesitation," Hestia replied, stepping forth from the shimmering air.
"Still, we know not when the next crisis will arise, and you have taken our two best warriors off the field."
"And I would do so again," Hestia countered, "they are not warriors, they are heroes who have more than earned their rest. If the next crisis comes, let it be fought by someone else. They have done enough."
Shoulders sagging in understanding there would be no persuading Hestia, Athena turned back to her daughter. "At any rate, I had wished to offer you a token, that is of course, if you will accept it," from within the folds of her gown, Athena withdrew a long, snow white plume. Holding it in some reverence, she held it out for her daughter. "This writing quill is of special significance to me. I have used no other writing implement in all my immortal life, when crafting strategies and tactics. I wish to present this to you, my daughter, for all you have done.
"If you accept this, it will allow me to visit, if you desire, when you are in New Rome. I know...this certainly does not correct past mistakes, and I know you may never see me as a mother who cares, but...as Apollo so forcefully pointed out, we must do better, and...I hope for the chance to try."
The offer was such a strangely personal and yet deeply significant gesture that Annabeth did not know how to respond and merely stood, staring at the quill as though not knowing whether she wanted to take it or run from it. "I won't," Annabeth said simply as she stared at her mother. Her eyes no longer shone with resentment or bitterness, but simply with the absolution of apathy that she felt towards the Olympians and their arrogance and manipulation of their children. Athena however, nodded her head in understanding, as though she expected the complete rejection of her daughter, and rather than push the issue, simply lowered herself one knee and laid the snow owl feather at Annabeth's feet.
No other words were exchanged between mother and daughter as the goddess turned and walked away, vanishing in the thickening mist that seemed to materialize around them. Annabeth however did not watch her mother's departure, but rather stood stationary, her eyes fixed upon the quill, a simple offering of peace as it were from her godly mother.
Compelled more by curiosity than any other emotion, Annabeth bent at the knees and scooped up the feather, bringing it to eye level as she studied the flawlessness of the simple godly artifact.
Satisfied by the exchange, Hestia stepped forward and placed her hand on Annabeth's arm. "Come my hero, let me return you to your family."
-0-
Paul had risen from his chair and made his way to the front door to see who would have visited them on a Saturday afternoon. After all, they had not expected any visitors. As the family's attention followed his path, Percy and Annabeth each took a moment to reorient themselves at the table, shaking their head to clear their minds. Looking to each other, they smiled softly, as Annabeth's eyes followed the action of Percy's hand, reaching into his pocket and removing the petrified shell he had been gifted by Poseidon. Likewise, Annabeth held the pure white quill she had been given by Athena.
Neither truly knew or understood what they wished to do with the gifted links to their godly parents. In some regard, the fact that they had accepted them meant that there was, perhaps, a desire to maintain connection with them. No matter how minuscule it may be, it existed all the same.
"Huh," Paul said, closing the door and returning the table, his reappearance bringing the two young adults' attention back to the task at hand, that being the large parcel of gifts waiting to be opened in celebration of their graduation. "Guess it was someone who came to the wrong house."
Knowingly sharing a glance with her, Percy reached out and took Annabeth's hand, savoring the connection they had sharing with her in the simple act, how much she completed him. Squeezing his hand in response, she returned the sentiment with a dazzling smile that spoke of all the love she held for him.
Here, they were together. Here, they were loved. Here was where they belonged.
-0-
A/N: Okay, this was a beast to write. First off, many readers had been asking if Poseidon and Athena would appear, and why was there so much resentment from Percy and Annabeth. I hope I was able to explain that, at least in my mind, why the two heroes would feel so resentful towards them. And, a personal feather in my cap of at least trying to be clever, if you read last chapter, you'll notice Sally's conversation with Annabeth was more emotional than logic, whereas Paul and Percy were more logical. This chapter, I switched it, with Annabeth/Athena being logical and Percy/Poseidon being emotional. Not sure if I pulled it off or not, but hopefully. Also, this chapter was weird, because the more I typed, the more just kept flowing until this chapter came out, which is, possibly, my longest chapter in this story.
I hope it wasn't too boring, and definitely hope it was a good exploration of how Percy and Annabeth feel about, well, the whole godly part of their lives. Anyway, you've read enough and I'll stop babbling. As always, if you're kind enough to read, please review, favorite, follow, I am always appreciative to know people enjoy what I write.
Thank you for reading.