Hey guys! Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!


I wish I could say things got better for Nicky over the coming months, but if it wasn't one thing it was another. The preteen years were hard. We knew that already, and being a half-blood, even a second-generation legacy, only increased their difficulty.

Still, the differences between our children's methods of coping with them were astounding at times.


"Nicky, you have to say something," Annabeth pleaded from beside him, seated at the kitchen table.

"No," he insisted, "It's fine."

"If it was fine, you wouldn't be this upset by it," she reasoned.

"It's fine," Nicky repeated, "I don't want to say anything."

"Well do you want me to?"

"No!"

"Nicholas, you can't let this keep happening. It's been two months. We agreed we wouldn't say anything right away, but it obviously isn't getting better. It isn't fair—"

"Dad," Nicky pleaded now, looking across the table at me for help.

I sighed, "Don't interrupt your mother. And she's right, Nicky. You wanted to deal with it yourself and see what happened and you did, but those kids are getting you in trouble now and it's affecting your work. I know you're not okay with that."

"What do you think will happen if we tell someone?" Annabeth asked him quietly.

"What do you think will?" Nicky shouted, "They won't stop! They'll just know that I ratted them out and it'll get worse! That's what happened to Jeffery last year!" Jeffery was a fellow student of his at Lincoln Elementary. He had special needs and Nicky had mentioned more than once that he was not liked by the other kids. We hadn't heard much more than that though. He continued, "His mom called the school and they got in trouble and then Ashton and his dumb friends only bullied him worse! They still do! And I stood up for him one time. One time! And now they treat me just as bad!" I met Annabeth's eyes at this new information. I could tell from her expression that this was news to her as well. Nicky was still shouting and tears looked imminent now. "It was so stupid! I should've just kept my big mouth shut! I—"

His words cut off when Annabeth moved and wrapped her arms around him. Nicky melted into his mom's embrace and started crying in earnest. "Shh," she said, "It's okay. Nicky, listen to me. What you did was not stupid, standing up for Jeffrey. It was brave and good and I'm proud of you." I nodded in agreement, though Nicky had his face buried in her shirt. She held him for another minute before he pulled back and she let him go. He sat back in his seat and stared at his hands in his lap.

Logan had wandered over now and appeared in the doorway. He looked in at the scene in mild concern. I looked at him and shook my head. Nicky wouldn't appreciate the audience of his brother right now. Disappointed but understanding, Logan left obediently.

Nicky, still sniffling, spoke again. "I'll work harder. I won't let them get me in trouble anymore, I promise. Just, please don't tell Ms. Reynolds. They don't hit me or anything. Its just stuff they say. I'll ignore it, like with the Ares cabin at camp. I ignore them all the time. I'll try harder. Please?" He looked up now, between us, his gray eyes pleading.

I sighed and met Annabeth's eyes again. I could read her thoughts in them. "Fine," she told him, "But we can't get anymore notes home."

"And if they try to hit you, you do what you need to without fighting and you tell someone," I added, feeling it was a valid and important point, "Okay?"

He nodded, apparently okay with those terms. "Can I go now?"

Annabeth sighed. "Yes, you can go."

He stood up quickly and made haste in exiting, maybe scared that we would change our minds and call him back again.

Annabeth turned her stare on me once he had gone. "He might be a little too much like you."


I was in the kitchen washing the last of the dinner dishes one Thursday in February when Nicky walked in and crossed to me. Annabeth had taken Carly shoe shopping and I was home with the boys. "Dad," he asked.

"What's up, champ?" I answered, rinsing a plate. He seemed nervous.

"Um, do I have to go to camp with Logan this weekend?"

The question brought me up short. I dropped the plate back in the sink and looked at him. "Do you not want to?" I asked. The idea was such a strange one. Nothing could have kept me from camp when I was a kid, and the boys only got to go about one weekend per month during the school year. As far as I knew, Nicky loved it as much as Logan did—as much as I always had.

"Not really," he admitted, looking uncomfortable.

I stared at him for a second, unsure of how to react to this. I settled on "Why?"

He shrugged, studying the floor. "I dunno…"

"What do you mean you don't know? Did something happen?"

He sighed. "No. I don't know. I'm just… not good at it."

"Not good at what?"

"At… being a legacy…"

The dishes forgotten, I turned off the faucet and turned to face him. "What does that mean?" I asked, not curtly but just trying to understand.

"Like… I don't know. I guess not being a legacy really, but being… your son." He mumbled the last words. I narrowed my eyes in concern but he went on before I could say anything. "Everybody's always so impressed when they find out that you're my dad and stuff and they always ask me what its like and if I'm as good as you were, but I'm not. I'm not good at camp stuff. Logan is. He's really good at training and sparring, and everyone always wants him on their team for Capture the Flag, and they think he's so cool because he can control water like you can. But I can't. I can't do any of that."

I studied him for a few seconds after he finished speaking, surprised that he felt that way and also slightly annoyed that Annabeth was never around to help me deal with things like this. She was much better at it than I was.

But she was out and I was on my own here.

"You can use a sword," I said, "You're good at it too. Chiron says you're one of the best swordsmen at camp, a lot better than Logan is. That's not nothing. And the water power is a nice trick but it doesn't make you any less powerful if you don't have it. The majority of kids at camp don't have powers like that, do they?" He shook his head.

"I think you could be great at Capture the Flag if you tried, Nicky. Logan's good at it because he knows he's good and he makes sure everyone else does too. You're not any less talented a fighter than he is; you're just quiet and you're okay with sitting back and letting other people shine. And that's not a bad thing. It's actually a really good thing, just ask your mom.

"You're not your brother and you're not me. And you don't have to be. I don't want you to. You just have to find the things you're good at and not worry about the ones you're not, okay?"

He gave a halfhearted nod and spoke then. "He is better then me though."

"Maybe," I allowed, "But he's been going to camp longer than you have. He started when he was younger than you because he had to find out the truth earlier than you did. I'm sorry if you wish we'd told you sooner but we were only trying to protect you."

"I know."

I sighed. "You don't have to go to camp this weekend if you don't want to but you do have to go for the summer. You need to learn how to fight and protect yourself. That's not up for negotiation."

"Okay. Thanks, Dad," Nicky said and then, with his piece said, he turned and left the kitchen again. I stared after him, conflicted. The poor kid was barely eleven years old. His life shouldn't have been this difficult.


"Dad, is Nicky okay?" Logan asked, looking up from his task of washing the windshield of Annabeth's car. She'd needed it cleaned for a while now, so in taking advantage of the first warm Saturday we'd had in a while, I'd decided to do it for her. I'd recruited Logan to help, because while it was well above freezing, in the middle of April, it still wasn't exactly swimsuit weather and he was the only other one in the family who could stay dry and fairly warm in the process.

I looked over at him now, overtop the car's roof, and met his eyes. He continued, "'Cause he doesn't really seem like it."

I sighed. "He's having a hard time with some stuff."

"School, right? With those kids? And his grades?" I gave him a look. "What?" he asked, "It's true. I'm not trying to be mean."

"Yeah," I conceded, "And some other stuff."

He considered that, then said, "Carly asked me the other day why he was sad. I didn't know what to tell her… But she's right. He does seem sad." He hesitated, "And also sometimes I think he's mad at me and I don't know why. I haven't done anything to him."

I sighed. "He's not mad at you," I answered, "He's… mad at himself."

"But I don't help, do I? Because I don't have dyslexia and stuff. He compares himself to me."

"Well," I said, "A little, yeah. He's more frustrated with himself though. He's not as confident as you are, and he's easily just as smart but he's got the problems with reading and school that you don't have, so his grades don't reflect it like yours do."

He nodded, looking thoughtful. "You're confident in your abilities," I continued, "That makes a big difference. But he'll be okay. He'll get there."

Logan nodded and then met my eyes again. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked, "To help him?"

"You can be there for him. Be his big brother and his friend. And hey, the next time you play Capture the Flag at camp, do me a favor and give Nicky an important job whether he wants it or not. He's a good fighter, he just doesn't know it yet."

Logan smiled widely and nodded.


"I don't understand how you do that," Christine, one of my coworkers, said, standing with her hands on her hips and watching as I rubbed the belly of an otter we'd rescued from a particularly filthy part of the Hudson a few weeks earlier. Tilly, as we'd named her—Carly's suggestion—had been pretty sick when we'd found her, but a few decent meals and as many rounds of antibiotics had her almost ready to be released again. Christine continued now, "Every animal we get adores you. I swear you speak sea creature."

I smiled at her words. "What can I say?" I replied, grinning, while Tilly shifted, rolling over and swimming up again so I could pet her head now, "It's a gift."

Christine snorted and picked up the bucket of fish at her feet before turning toward the seal enclosure to feed them their lunch. I turned back to Tilly, "She has no idea," I whispered to her. The otter's responding laughter sounded in my mind.

My cell phone rang in my pocket then and I took my hand back. She wasn't all that happy about it. "Sorry," I told the otter. Drying my hand off on my pants, I dug the phone out of my pocket and checked the ID before putting it to my ear. It was Annabeth.

"Hey," I answered.

"Hi," she replied seriously.

"What's up?" I asked, matching her tone.

"We have a problem."

I turned away from Tilly's enclosure and stared walking toward the offices. "We do?"

"Yeah. I just got a call from the school nurse at Lincoln. Nicky was sent to see her after another student punched him in the face."

"Oh my gods," I said, brought up short, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah. Apparently it was bleeding a lot so she's sending him home."

"Di immortales," I murmured. "Did she say who did it?"

"No, just that the principal's dealing with it, but it's not hard to guess."

"I know." I sighed. "I thought it was getting better."

"Apparently not."

"Do you want me to head over there?"

"No. I've got it. But I'm not leaving there until something is done about this so depending on how long that takes, your mom might have to grab Logan and Carly."

"Okay. Keep me posted. I'll see you later."

"I will. See you." The call ended and I put the phone back in my pocket, still standing where I'd stopped in surprise. I stayed there for another second and took a long, deep breath before continued walking, shaking my head. There was never a dull moment, and it looked like things with Nick's bullying situation were coming to a head.


"Nicky, what happened?" I asked, standing before my youngest son, who sat on the couch sulking with just the faintest of red marks over his nose and right cheekbone. His eyes trailed after Carly, who had run in to greet me when I'd walked in and now left to go finish her homework at the kitchen table.

When she was gone, he sighed, embarrassed. "I didn't know he was gonna hit me," he said, his eyes on the floor.

"Nicholas," I said, "Look at me." He did. "You are allowed to protect yourself if someone tries to physically hurt you, do you hear me?"

"It wasn't like that!" he countered, "Honest! I didn't want to fight or anything but I know how to block a punch. We learn it in combat at camp, but he…" he looked down again, embarrassed again, "Didn't look like that was what he was doing."

"What do you mean?"

"His feet," Nicky said, looking up again, "When you throw a punch, you're supposed to start with your feet shoulder-width apart and your dominant foot a little behind the other, and then you step into it so you can put your whole body into the strike! He didn't do that! He just… flung his arm out…" He looked up and the complete innocence of his dubious expression was quite funny, "It wasn't a good punch. It was actually really bad. It didn't even hurt really. It just bled. I didn't even need ambrosia!" I couldn't take it anymore. I started laughing. "It's not funny, Dad!" he cried, scandalized.

"No," I said, sobering, "I'm not laughing at you. I mean, not like that. You just…" I smiled. "You're so well trained you can't recognize an untrained hit coming at you." He was not amused. I chuckled, "Sorry, buddy. It's a good thing. Just… next time, block anyway. Even if you're not sure."

"There won't be a next time," Annabeth said now, walking into the room and crossing to me. I kissed her cheek in greeting. "Aston's been suspended indefinitely," she continued, "He's facing possible expulsion." She made a face. "This isn't the first time he's done this apparently."

"No," Nicky agreed bitterly, "Sam said I should have hit him back." I could see Annabeth's sense warring with her protectiveness at that. The warrior in her clearly wanted him to fight back, but she couldn't endorse that as a responsible mother. Nicky saved her from having to reply when he continued. "But it's like you said that time, Dad. I'm part of something way bigger than Ashton will ever understand, so I have to act like it." He shrugged simply. "So I didn't."

Annabeth's answering smile was a proud one. "Good thing too," I said, "Ashton would have fared a lot worse than you did."

Nicky gave a laugh. "True."

And he continued smiling, looking lighter than I'd seen him in a while, and I was glad that he at least had one less thing to worry about now.

He still had things he had to deal with, but this was a step in a good direction. And things could only go up from here.


I know this was different than what I've normally done for this chapter, but I have a ton of ideas for further on in the story and I wanted to speed things along a bit. Hopefully you enjoyed it.

The majority of this story so far has been focused on normal mortal issues, but I do have plans for demigodly things too for those of you wondering. They will be coming soon. Stay tuned!

Thanks for reading!