I keep forgetting the wednesday update day. :/

Chapter 3

"Favorite time of day?" Percy asked. He didn't know why he was still there. He'd never procrastinated on a job before but his questions were still unanswered.

Curiosity was a damn vice he hadn't exactly shaken from himself yet, but he wasn't about to. Not while she was before him, filled with mysteries and oddities. A mess of features and quirks so bizarre it was as if she were a randomized NPC in one of Nico's god-awful games.

Just sitting next to him, she was displaying her complete lack of unity.

Wary, as always, with her flighty eyes darting about the passing people. Scanning each one, pensive of everyone, and sometimes lingering on a certain one as if she had found something out about them. Yet, as intense and worried her expression and eyes were, her body language was the total opposite. Calm. Relaxed. Draped over the splintering bench they were on with her elbows hooked over the back and legs outstretched and crossed lazily. A nimble dawdle in her fingers as she fiddled with a curl of wood peeling away from the bench.

"Mmmh. It's hard to say," Annabeth mumbled thoughtfully while shifting on the bench. "I don't think I can describe it well."

She brought the cone to her lips and took another mouthful of her ice-cream, vanilla white.

That was another one of her quirks. It was the coldest day of the week and yet when he asked her what she wanted to do, she'd said 'ice-cream' so quickly that he had to re-evaluate her words just to make sure he heard her right.

Ice cream.

Or maybe she just wanted the satisfaction of watching him chase down the truck that was crying a sweet little melody and peppered with faded ice cream cartoons. He must've looked comical, half yelling- half bartering with a very belligerent Italian food trucker (because honestly, ice-cream in negative degree weather should not be that expensive). But in the end, he got the cones and she got whatever the hell she was after. Her little smile told him so.

"Why not?" Percy tried to hide the quiver in his fingers. It was getting colder and colder and he was very much questioning his choice of mint swirl.

"It's too… magnificent to be summed up in a few words." Annabeth was staring off into the distance again. Probably imagining a beautiful scene only memorized by her mind.

Then again, her mind was a labyrinth, her thoughts undefined. Perhaps her favourite time of day really wasn't a typical beach framed sunset like he was imagining.

"Anyways, you?" Annabeth returned the question with another drawn out lick of her ice cream. Flickering her eyes back up to Percy, echoing her question.

For a moment, he sat in silence scrutinizing her. How she was able to convey what she meant in one word was beyond him. You? That shouldn't have said much but it did. It told him she was asking about his favorite time of day too, and that she was genuinely curious. Honestly interested in such a blaise subject, which given her extensive library, surprised him even more.

"Morning," he decided with a sense of finality.

"Morning," Annabeth snorted. "Somehow you don't seem like the rise and shine type."

"Oh, I'm not," Percy laughed. "Although, when I do manage to get up early I find that I love it."

"Then why don't you get up earlier everyday?" She asked. Raising an eyebrow in unison with her question.

"Because I love to sleep more, obviously."

"Lazy."

"Wow I'm flummoxed." Percy deadpanned. "You are brilliant at coming up with names to call me."

Annabeth shrugged. Unimpeded. "I call things as I see them."

"How uncreative."

"Or sensible." She shrugged. "It's not uncreative to get to the root of something and name it plainly."

"That's impossible. A person can't be sensible and creative. If they were, they'd sensibly come to the conclusion that creativity is a curse and would then die of depression."

"You're also dramatic." Annabeth added on. A little glimmer of playfulness in her eyes. Percy felt the burn of his cheeks flare a bit, and this time not because the frigid wind was freezing his skin solid. "And clingy, and obnoxious, and pathetic-"

"Alright. Alright. I get it." Percy waved his hand to try and clear her words. Thinking of his gun in his pocket and the death wish stapled to this girl's back.

He should just get rid of her already. He could name seven traits about her that probably sealed her fate. Mainly her stubborn side and her fearlessness in the face of conflict.

"And completely and totally childish," she concluded.

Percy scoffed. "Says the gal who can't come up with a real proper insulting name."

"How is that childish?"

"Oh please, only children have the balls to call it as it is face to face. I haven't been called annoying since third grade. Adults have veiled name calling."

Annabeth had a little ice cream mustache, but she seemed too occupied by what Percy was saying to notice. "Explain."

Smiling, Percy looked at the sky again. "Like telling someone that they're 'so brave to wear something like that' or that they have a 'spicy personality'. All that's being said is that their outfit is fucking ugly and that they're a bitch."

"So what you're saying is that you want me to insult you, but subtly?" she cocked her head at him. "Weird kink you got there, pervert."

Why was she like this? What did he do to deserve this? He bought her ice cream and now he was forced to sit on a public bench and be verbally abused by her? No matter how amused she was, Percy was failing to see the comedy in it.

It took a calming breath to wipe his unimpressed expression and try again. "That is not the message I was going for."

"Then what was?"

"That you're childish too for not using a more nuanced name calling technique."

He thought she'd instantly denounce his claim but she didn't. Instead, she nodded solemnly before biting into her cone. Not even flinching when another bitter wind rolled over them. Finally she sat up and turned to him. Thinking, thinking, thinking. Always thinking, but never thinking of anything better because she always came to conclusions that irked him.

"Nuanced be damned, it's better communication to just call someone a twerp to their face."

"I disagree-"

"Twerp."

Percy took another deep breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the delight on her face with the way her eyebrows rose. He gripped the rest of his cone a bit tighter. "Your name calling is still terrible."

"Alright. I'll work on it."

"What?"

"You heard me." She rose to her feet. Staring down at him with such superiority that he felt like a mouse beneath a wolf's hard gaze for just a moment. "I'm going to come up with such a staggeringly devastating name for you that your enormously fragile man ego will shatter into dust."

Percy made a face. "You're a real charmer, you know that?"

"And yet you approached me. Don't forget that, Frog-dick."

"Don't call me that."

"Waffle-brained gopher-fucker"

"Seriously-"

"Lard-Fart."

"Okay-" Percy put up his hands. "Okay. I surrender."

"You give up so easily."

Annabeth started down the street. Rolling her cone over in her fingers, finding all the juiciest areas with her eyes before she attacked it. Percy really really didn't understand her. There he stood, trying to withhold shudders from the inside out, freezing right down to his core, and she seemed completely unaffected by the weather. Snow-queen, she must've been the reincarnation of the snow queen. Percy cocked his head at her, watching the way her scarf blew in the breeze, watching as her eyes traced over the sidewalk in quick darting movements, watching as her face fell back into that neutral look of unease.

It was always present, that expression of discomfort. It was like her default mode, if she indeed did have a default mode.

But why? Why? Why? Why?

"Coffee?" Percy offered when they were passing her usual shop.

The streets were scattered with salt, the sunless sky beat down a bleak light, every gasping car that passed would leave behind a stench of exhaust and gas. Percy wanted to be inside. Cozied up somewhere that smelled like freshly baked cinnamon buns and coffee, with enough warmth and happy lighting that he could just sit in idle contentedness.

He must've betrayed too much of his wants in that one word because Annabeth glanced at him again, smug. "Cold?"

"And you're not?!"

"I am. But… I can just handle it," she smirked. Then cut passed him to step into the quaint little shop. "Wimpy Sniveller." she threw over her shoulder.

Percy stood a moment more in the cold. Gripping his free fist and oathing to himself that tonight was the night. Curiosity be damned. Her teasing nature, her haughtiness, her blatant arrogance. It was all just so skin prickling.

Calm. Cool. Water. He thought with another well timed breath.

But even that was wigging him out. How had just crawled under his skin so easily?

Inside was indeed warm, and Percy found himself shamelessly clapping the cold out of his hands against his jeans. Dancing in place like a little dashboard toy as he glanced around. Taking count of everyone inside, their positions, their demeanors, they're proximity to exits and bathrooms and such.

Four. Percy counted. Including the single employee. Good.

"You wanted to come here." Annabeth said, her arms crossed. "So what do you want here?"

Percy was already delighting on the deep aromatic smells of coffee. He was just about to proclaim to her the best coffee order in the world (large black coffee, two milks, two sugars) when the barista behind the bar whipped her hand up at him. Pointing accusationally.

"Hey! No outside food in this shop!"

The half finished ice-cream cone was in his hand. Green and brown and frozen as ever. With a sour look he tossed it carelessly into the trash by the door.

It hit the rim. Balanced on the edge for a second of mockery before it tipped out and splatted against the floor.

"Sir." The barista protested, unimpressed.

Annabeth's eyes were on him again. Enjoying his presence. That's what irked him, he realized. She liked just watching him. Watch him make a fool of himself. He was the jester to her majesty when in reality he was the merciful deity that hadn't wiped her out yet. Percy was no fool, he'd never been one. But suddenly she appeared in his life and now he was lame enough to miss tossing out a half eaten bit of frozen cream.

Muttering a few curses, he marched over to pick it up.

The door opened in front of him. The bell chimed. A man entered.

It caught him off guard. It startled him. Enough that he misstepped.

One moment he was just registering the fact that he was placing all of his weight onto an ice-cream cone the next he was flat on his back, staring up into the lights. The disgruntled new customer shimmed away from him with a few choice words spoken through his mustache. Something like 'fucking idiot'.

Percy sure as hell felt those words that time.

The barista sighed tiredly, clearly distressed by the streak of ice cream which was all over the floor and up Percy's back. A couple sitting in a booth looked amused, and Percy was sure one of them took a photo. But Annabeth laughed. Not like the breathy cold chuckles she had given up until now, or the disbelieving guffaws but a real genuine laugh. It was light and airy and surprisingly full of warmth. For a moment, all he could do was stare up at her. Enamored with how her eyes pinched in delight and her hand clasped over her lips as if to hide the broken grin. He could still see the dimples in her cheeks though.

Who are you Annabeth Chase? From hot to cold, from hot to cold.

"What?" She asked then, with her eyebrows twisting down, still grinning however.

"You're… laughing," was all he could think to say. Propping himself up slowly, maintaining eye contact.

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "I'm a shut in person Percy, I'm not emotionless. Nobody can escape feelings. Besides, the more I know you the more I'm convinced that you're a fucking muppet."

Fair. That was fair.
People couldn't be emotionless. Percy knew first hand that people couldn't be emotionless. It was just a hard hit to hear all over again. Reminding him of his failed teenage years. The bottles, the tears, the distraught eyes staring back at him from within the mirror. That nasty little stage where he was desperate to find a way to ease it all. That guilt, that soul grinding, heart tearing, sky cleaving guilt that clung to him day and night. That feeling of disappointment when he woke up in the morning, still alive. Still surviving.

The panic he felt whenever he ever so much as saw one of his forbidden objects.

Although, he did get better. The whole emotion thing that is. He even carried a photo of one of his victims in his pocket. A stark reminder of who he was, who he had to be. What it took for him to make it to the next day. He'd stare at that photo at night, remarking to himself how far he'd come from that despondent youth. Stacking rocks to bury ghosts, it was effective.

Nobody could escape emotion, but Percy felt pretty sure you could dampen it all.

Looking at Annabeth reminded him of that.

Hell, he'd spent the last two days with her but he still didn't feel even a little uneasy about the idea of thrusting a knife through her chest. Of feeling the viscosity of her blood stream hot and thick down his arms. Seeing her eyes, their betrayal, their loss as she watched him rip the soul from her body.

But the ocean….

No. no her object couldn't be the ocean. She was too unlikable for that. He needed to find something else. Something small, something inconsequential. If he could find a way to tie her existence to a toilet brush, that would be ideal.

"I'm getting a tea." Annabeth was oblivious to him now. Her face was twisted in a contemplative way at the board full of hot drink options and Percy had to roll his eyes again. She looked so focused, and thoughtful for a girl who knew exactly what she was going to get.

"Large coffee, two milks and two sugars." Percy supplied.

Annabeth gave him a skeptical look.

"Trust me."

"I'd have to be brain damaged to trust an ass kissing monkey mother like yourself," she shot back.

Percy ignored that name. "Well then let me guess, you're going to have tea again?"

"Why not?"

"The same tea?"

"And is that a sin?"

"No. Just boring as fuck."

"So?"

"Why?" Percy couldn't help it. It was the one word, the one question that plagued him about everything she was. "Why do you always do and have and be the same?"

"Ooof, that sentence was grammatical homicide."

"Why?" Percy pressed her. Standing taller, staring down into her eyes. Fluttering with a little hope that she'd relieve him. That there would be an answer that would release him from this inquisitive hell.

Then he could finally shoot her, or strangle her, or drown her, or poison her-

"Why not?" Annabeth snuffed at him. Pushing him away with one breezy hand. "No need to get weird about it."

"But-?" Percy pressed his palm in the side of his head, rubbing away the start of a headache. "It's just… so abnormal?"

His words were dancing on a line. He knew they were. Cautiously, he prepared himself for the bite-back. The hiss of a venomous snake before it sank its fangs into his neck.

But he was wrong again. Instead, all she did was smile up at him sweetly. Chillingly. All the sentiments of a smile, but none of the emotions of it.

"Abnormal… what a wonderful word." She brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder. "Being an abnormality… even when I'm boring, I'm interesting."

Well she had him there. Despite the decidedly bland state of her life, he was still enraptured, he was still hooked.

"So this is it?" he asked, a little rudely. "You'll drink tea from the same shop, sit on the same beach, work at the same job until you die?"

To his confusion, she wasn't pricked by his words. Instead she looked at ease. Happy. A soft sort of contentment that glowed out of her. She could barely contain the little smile when she nodded.

"That's the plan."

"You're not going to try new things?"

"Nope?"

"Not even a different flavour of tea?"

"Why would I be so reckless?"

"... Annabeth Chase, you confuse me more than any person on this planet."

Her smile widened. "I aim to please."

When she stepped forward to order, Percy felt a bubble fill the back of his throat. This impossible impossible girl had so much and yet refused to further her horizons. It was maddening, it was obnoxious, it was moronic.

Mountains can be moved… but oceans go where they please.

.:oOo:.

"Who is she with?" His voice was hoarse. Rough from a day of screaming at his employees no doubt. Or maybe just one threadbare assistant. Percy didn't exactly know the particulars of his employer's life. "Why isn't this done already?!"

Percy's footsteps were solid and well timed against the sidewalk. Breathing out a puff of vapor as he looked to the dimming sky, wondering if someone else could possibly handle this phone call for him.

Are you sad my boy? Can you change it?

"A tall male, black hair," Percy explained coolly. "She seems to be aware of impending danger because she has a new security system I can't get past."

"Dammit Annabeth," The voice said in a gravelly tone. Maybe it was the phone connection, maybe this man was a smoker. Percy couldn't tell. "She must know. After all that time… I shouldn't have seen her so often… Fuck it, maybe I should assign this to another, quicker person."

Water. Cold and clear. Percy knocked down the indignation of someone else taking over his job. He was the best, excuse him. He didn't get his reputation by dicing up targets haphazardly. He was careful, he was nimble, he had hammered this down to an art.

"You could." Percy spoke offhandedly. "But take my professional opinion when I say that any other assassin will botch up the job in a way that you'll end up behind bars-"

"Not possible-" the voice barked back, forcing Percy to hold the phone away from his ear at the ferocity of it. "I've covered my own tracks. I won't be affected by this if the job is ever actually completed."

"Bars may not scare you, but surely even you aren't immune to a scandal." Percy stopped his pacing. Staring up at the sky one more time before he glanced down to his shoes. Counting the scuff marks on the tips of his sneakers as the seconds passed. "I'm just warning you sir-" he added after a moment of thought. "Death can go many ways, and the fallout is often unpredictable. The job does need precision. Something I excel at."

A weighted silence seeped in from over the other line. Percy knew he was scaring him into submission, but he didn't care. He didn't want to kill Annabeth yet. Not yet. He still had so many questions.

"If you are unsatisfied with my pace, fire me by all means. But please take my expert advice when I tell you that you have to hire someone who is willing to familiarize themselves with the whole situation before acting."

Silence again. The streets were practically empty. Cars with glaring headlights passed in a mundane order as the streetlights slowly started to click on. Percy's heart was feeling oddly clamped. Indigestion probably.

"Percy!" A voice shouted before his employer had a chance to answer.

Seized with shock, Percy hurriedly hit end on the call and wheeled around to a wheezing Annabeth. Her black leather gloved hand was thrown over her head to keep her hat in place, and her scarf was half unwound and threatened to flutter off with the puff of one of the fall breezes.

"Annabeth?"

How much did she hear? What does she know?!

"Come on!" She urged with a heavy breath. Leaping forward to grab his hand before she started racing down the street again. Her boot heels clacking against the cement as she dragged Percy onward. A surprised lurch was yanking around in his heart at the way she gripped his fingers with an intense eagerment. Her steps were full of life and determination.

"Where are we going?" He called out to her in alarm.

"Just run you moron!"

"Your names still suck!"

"Shut up!"

They were passing the little stores, digging deeper into the city, reaching the double story commercial shops before Annabeth suddenly peeled off to the left. Yelling at pedestrians to get the hell outta her way as she dragged Percy onward with this amazing fire and headstrong attitude.

A river came into sight. It was wide and deep and fed into the ocean with a strong unchallenged current. Like an arrow, Annabeth aimed directly for it. Turning only as a last minute thought when they reached an old pair of damaged train tracks. The metal rails glinted in the fading sun and clusters of decaying leaves filled the gaps between each block.

They had to crawl over two 'Warning: Condemned' signs to make it onto the bridge. Annabeth led him to the middle, balancing on the metal beams of the tracks until she hopped off and walked down the center of one of the slates until she was at the bridge's edge. The bridges' rusty metal arches leapt above them gracefully and were attached with criss crossed metal beams for added support. Strangely, the light seemed to be cut as it shone through the sharp structure.

"There," she gasped, out of breath and with a line of sweat against her brow. "See it?"

Percy was overcome with confusion. "See what?" He huffed. Heaving just as heavily as she was while staring each other down. His heartbeat was slamming into his chest as he zipped down his coat a bit to release the air that was cooking him alive.

Whatever Annabeth was trying to say next, it was lost in another deeply drawn breath so she pointed in a vigorous motion towards the right, towards the river.

"Favorite… time of… day."

Sunset. This oddball, nutjob, son of a bitch girl had a basic ass favorite time of day. But it was somehow suiting. Somehow her.

Sundown had left the sky full of pinks and oranges and skirting yellows. Hems of fire lined the clouds, yet their centers were deep and purple like dark lavender gardens. In the distance, bare trees clawed at the sky with every brush of wind. They were a shapeless black. Just a mangle of silhouettes. In fact, the entire opposite shore was a dark abyss. A strip of jagged black separating the water from the sky. Contrasting the water itself which was smooth and marble like. Reflecting every powerful colour the sky had given it and showcasing it in the vivid ripples.

Are you sad my boy?

It was otherworldly, beautiful and peaceful, yet so strong. Percy knew he'd seen one of these sunsets before, but not like this. Not standing next to the world's most abnormal normal person there was. Not seeing it through her eyes. .

"I like to imagine that it's another world," she explained softly. The dying sun hit her eyes in such a way that they sparkled slowly. Or maybe Percy was just seeing more of her.

"When you can't see the land, or the people, or the trees or the things around you, just water and air, it feels like you could be somewhere you're not."

Percy stepped closer to the edge of the bridge and released the breath that snagged in his throat. Captured by the sunset, how Annabeth's words seemed to make it come alive. But more than that, how it brought out a piece of her. The snow queen had warmed up from it enough to share this with him. To race across the city on foot to let him see this piece she held in her heart. How odd.

"Damn, your favorite time of day is totally better than mine," Percy said playfully. Glancing at her as she smiled softly at him. Golden curls shining in this light setting.

"Well, obviously," she bumped him.

He liked her in this time of day. That content happiness was filling that void in her eyes again. Happiness with a deep rarity. One that shone through her guarded exterior.

The Ocean is a beautiful thing.

"I hate how it never lasts," she murmured. Tilting her head to the side in quiet farewell. The light, the colour, the feeling was already starting to fade. Stars were creeping up behind them and winking into view. "I wish it would stay longer." She was balancing on the edge of the bridge, an arm wrapped around one of the beams dreamily. Picture perfect.

"Me too." Percy glanced at her. Her happiness was already starting to fade as the last sliver of the sun remained visible. It was contagious, and warm and somehow he could almost feel it too.

The fact that this emotion was so detached from him was almost scary and yet… if he reached out, maybe he could have it again?

"I only like this time of day over water. Only when-"

Crunch.

It was loud. Sickening. Quick. Beneath Annabeth's feet, the board gave way in one crumbling, rotten mess. Screams trailed her body as she dropped like a brick. Percy's world turned sharp, and before he knew what he was doing he had leapt at her and clawed his hands around her wrists. Painfully his body slammed into the side of the bridge, releasing a drawn out groan from his lips. Splinters of fire raced through his ribcage.

The otherworldly feeling was gone. His reality was unforgiving and harsh. Things he hadn't noticed yet bloomed in his mind. Like the smell of running fresh water grazing over rock, and the hushing trickle sound it gave. Like the scattered cigarette buds littered across the bridge's surface from passersbys. Like the sound of distant gulls. Like the feeling of sweat gathering in the creases of his brow.

Like how below Annabeth's dangling body, the drop was far and the water was shallow. The current was strong, however, and if her flesh met the solid edges of those pointed grisly grey boulders lying just shy of the liquid surface, then her broken body would be swept away and buried deep in the crevices lining the ocean's bottom.

This was his chance. He could get paid tonight, leave town tomorrow. He could be back on the road with another employer seeking out his new number.

"Percy," Annabeth choked. Tears alighting her eyes, desperation and terror buried in those grey pools. Her eyes were so alive, yet so conscious of death waltzing slowly towards her to the hum of a softening lullaby.

Her eyes.

So much like the brown ones his mother had. The look, the cry, the pleas swelling in them as their eyes locked a final time. The fear that swallowed her whole moments before his stepfather buried the blade in the back of her neck. Her mouth falling open in an empty cry, her brown hair growing slick with the wetness of her own blood. Acrylic scent spicing the air. And yet she waved at him to go, leave her, be safe. She wanted to protect him.

His mother was the sky.

Are you sad?

She was open and bright and home to the sun and the moon. She was the open beautiful sky. Watching over him everyday. Unreachable, she was so high up but she was the sky, he could never forget her, he could never avoid her.

"P-percy," Annabeth whimpered again. Tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes. Her grey coat flailed out in the wind like a distress flag flapping from the peak of a ship.

Kill the ocean. His sinner side was whispering. It's your promise, it's your need.

But no matter how impossible the sky is to reach, the ocean is always a walk away. One cannot simply kill the ocean. No, she needed to be something else when she died. Something much more insignificant to him.

With all his strength, Percy tugged and yanked and pulled the blonde up. His back and shoulders screamed in agony, as he grunted and panted until she was able to hook onto a hand hold, and hoist herself up. Together they crashed against the graveled ground in a mess of coats, warmth and internal chaos. Lemon filled his senses and he felt her hair brush against his face for a few heart pumping seconds. Percy kept his arms clutched around her back as he tried to process what he just did.

I saved her.

"Get off of me," Annabeth barked. Fighting and pushing her way to her feet as Percy lay dumbstruck. Her skittish eyes were still wide and steadily dripping, her hands were trembling like leaves and her voice could scarcely be kept at an even tone.

The light had died, darkness was falling.

"Annabeth-" Percy looked up to her, still partially shocked by his own decision. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she hissed. Stumbling backwards with a rough jerk and the fear still present in her gaze. "I'm fine. Leave me alone."

Shocked, Percy watched her leave. Hunching her shoulders with her hands shoved into the depths of her pockets. Staggering in a delirious state as she failed to focus on the path in front of her.

Moving without thinking, yet thinking about everything in the world. Everything she could've lost.

If she is the ocean, then I am the sailor. Percy pressed a hand to his pounding chest. Trying to learn how to read the sudden storms that break open on its surface.

.:oOo:.

He had lost another fight.

Bryson was so much bigger than him, and even took karate lessons, but Percy had still marched head on into the fight. He let his emotions get away from him again in one foul swoop.

He didn't want to go home. He didn't want his mother to see his burning tears and stinging bruises. He didn't want to worry her, but he couldn't stay on the street forever. It was dark, and he was cold and hungry. He didn't have any friends he could go to. He was only eight after all.

"Percy!" His mother smelled like fresh baked cookies and clean laundry. Her hair was tied back in a small bun, and her eyes held the relief of his arrival. She promptly crushed him against her chest.

The sickly sugary scent of the sweet shop was still on her shirt when he buried his face in it. Warmth blossomed in his chest and made his whole body feel peaceful and safe.

"When you get off the bus, you come straight upstairs! I was searching for ages darling! Where were you?"

She pulled him away to look into his eyes in a discerning manner but melted when she saw his large watery gaze and bruised cheek.

"Oh Percy," she sighed. "Who was it this time? Bryson or Dylan?"

"Bryson," he mumbled in a croak. Her sympathies, and motherly hug sending the tears over the edges of his eyes again. Stubbornly, he tried wiping them away with his sleeve.

Quietly, she sat him down at the round kitchen table, and set a plateful of cold cookies in front of him. The blue colour gave him a sliver of extra comfort. Moments later, she was spreading salve over his bruises, her eyes steady and calm as she brushed the hair away from his face.

"You tried your best." She assured with a loving smile.

"But I still lost," Percy whimpered.

"But you got stronger my love."

"But I still lost."

"Can you change that?" She asked with a gentle tilt up of his head using her slender fingers. "Can you go back in time and change what has happened?"

Percy dragged his sleeve across his eyes again and shook his head miserably. Looking to the floor instead of his mother's warm eyes.

"Are you sad things didn't turn out differently?"

Sniffling, Percy nodded as his lip started trembling again.

"Don't be sad," Sally whispered, wiping away one of his tears with her fingers delicately. "You can't change the past, darling, you can only try and prepare for the future."

"But I don't know what's in the future!" he cried, shaking his head. "I don't know how to prepare for it."

"Then you better pick the best future you could possibly have, and work for it Percy." His mother's hand landed lovingly on his cheek. Finally locking eyes with a soft and compassionate gaze. "You can be anything you want, as long as you work towards it."

I need to set an alarm or something so I remember to update this next week.