Jack smiled slightly as he watched his son take a pinch of the dreamsand and sprinkle it onto his head before slumping back onto the pillows. Out like a light—no, the Guardians hated that expression. Understandably, of course.

He wondered how they'd react if he told them he had a son.

Jack took one more long look before leaping back up into the wind and rocketing back to Percy's apartment. He'd gone back and forth so many times, it was a route that could get him there in minutes. He glided over to the window, popped the latch, and slid back into Percy's room. He winced in disgust—it smelled like that idiot, Gabe (Jack blatantly refused to use the term stepfather). In a few quick movements, Jack whisked out the old back pack from where Percy had stashed it (under the bed. How was this kid not his?) filled it with the goodies he'd nicked from a few different convenience stores in Wisconsin, and darted out the window again.

He reached the camp again in just under five minutes.

Jack's heart began to thump as he approached the door—this was stupid. Percy was a light sleeper, and even now he couldn't be sure if his oath still held. But before he knew it, his hand was on the knob. His hand was turning the knob. And, much like he had on the night of Percy's infancy, he slipped into the room.

It was dark, but that didn't stop Jack. He soundlessly placed the backpack on the floor by the door and hesitated before digging the ring out of his pocket. This had been a gift to him from North, who had received it from Ombric many years ago. It amplified the normal senses of the wearer a thousandfold—as Jack had learned from experience. North told him, that with the right practice, one could hone their abilities and senses to the point of hearing snow hit the ground or smell the bark of a tree or see, in detail, every ant building it's hill.

With a deep breath, Jack added it to the backpacks stash.

He should have left then, but something tugged in his heart. His eyes were magnetically drawn to the dark shape that lingered in the corner of his eye. Temptation swarmed his mind, clouding his thoughts, and he ghosted forward until he was looking at his son.

The bunks weren't tall and their faces were level. Just like himself, Percy was a quiet sleeper, his faced relaxed and breaths soft. His face was half buried in his pillow, his nose crinkled slightly, and Jack couldn't help but smile. A lock of dark hair had fallen over Percy's closed eyes, and Jack gently, gently, gently brushed it out of the way. "What did I say, little man? I said you'd be amazing, didn't I?" Something painful and hot suddenly pulsed unpleasantly in his stomach, and Jack's shoulders slumped. "I shouldn't talk like that," he whispered in a rush, half-heartedly tricking himself into thinking that Percy could hear him. "I left you and your mom with that—that monster—" he paused, self-loathing and rage trying to raise his voice. "And I'm so sorry. About your mom. Sally...I asked the gods about her. Heck, I did a rather impressive one man siege of Hades itself when they didn't answer. But he's got her hidden, and—and...I don't know what to do next. But I won't give up. I—promise."

His monologue hung in the cold, empty air.

Jack left.

He'd always stuck to Percy, as close as he dared. It was a constant risk, but Zeus had become rather lax in the past few years, and Jack watched over his son whenever possible. And when he was forced to be absent, Wind always hovered at Percy's shoulder, ready to protect him. Jack thought back to just a few days ago, when Percy had made the sign for warding off evil towards Gabe. Wind had a bit too much fun and slammed the screen door shut on the jerk's backside, sending him into a rather impressive face-plant. Brilliant, if Jack said so himself.

Jack knew that if Percy asked, he could command the wind just as easily as he, his father did. But of everything in the world that Percy had just been thrust into, even talking to the wind was a little far fetched. Besides: he doubted Zeus would let his son get more than a few feet off the ground.

Thank God Sally never took him on an airplane.

From his position among the glittering stars, Jack frowned and bit his lip before gliding soundlessly back down to the big house, ignoring how the pale roof of his cabin loomed in the corner of his eye and landed silently on the back porch—where he knew Chiron would be waiting.

The old centaur didn't look away from the glittering stars when Jack touched down softly beside him. "Hello, Jack," he greeted quietly, obeying Jack's request of avoiding more formal titles.

"Hey, Chiron."

A comfortable silence lapsed between them.

"About twelve years ago, you asked me to build a cabin for you at camp." Chiron said softly, still studying the stars.

"Yeah," Jack replied, remembering. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"You never did tell me why. It was not my place to ask questions." He paused, as if debating how much he should say. "I suppose I know, now."

"Yeah," Jack sighed again, fiddling with the stiff sleeve of his new blue hoodie.

"His powers are congruent with yours," Chiron remarked. "But there is something...there is something more."

A brief wave of panic surged in Jack's chest. He'd never told a soul, alive or dead, about Sally's parentage. The Big Three weren't allowed to have children—and especially not grandchildren. It was dangerous enough to have the blood of one immortal in you—two was unheard of.

Chiron continued, the epitome of calm."He has certain abilities that seem outside the norm for a Winter God, however powerful." With this, he finally turned to Jack, raising an eyebrow.

"You may trust me."

Jack whipped to the side, shocked, to meet Chiron's clear, old eyes. He knew Chiron was a close confidant of the Gods...trusting him was reasonable, but not with something like this.

"I can't, Chiron. I'm sorry." He managed to keep his face smooth and straight, but he cursed inwardly at the minutely wavering level of his voice. But he kept his eyes locked on Chiron's dark ones, cool and calm, before Jack looked back up at the bluish gray moon.

"You do know, Jack," said Chiron after a moments pause, with the air of one changing a painfully acute subject. "You are proof that everything is connected." He gestured up at the pale orb that shone in the dotted sky. "Your guardians believe in the moon, who is, in fact, an extension of Artemis. The moon itself is said to be responsible for the tides—" he stopped briefly, "—but the tides are influenced by the mood of Poseidon, the sea god. Lore supports more lore, just as you are said to be the rogue snow sprite Jokul Frosti, when in fact you are a young God of all Winter."

Jack didn't know what to say.

"Jack...if you will not confirm your son's origins...will you at least divulge yours? To some extent?"

For an instant, Jack was silent.

"I...was born in the United States. Couple centuries ago." His voice was inadvertently halting. Just speaking of his beginning brought up those years of isolation, those decades of pain and uncertainty. "But it wasn't called the United States back then. It was the colonies of England. I was raised by a family of Shepards. My father was a young immigrant from Tyrone, Ireland. His name was Jason Overland..."

"And...your mother?" Prompted Chiron softly. Tension hung like acrid smoke between them, impervious and impenetrable.

"I was a demigod," Jack amended shortly. Unbeknownst to Chiron, his fingers had begun to tighten imperceptibly on the porch failing. "After I was born, my father moved a few towns over to Burgess, Pennsylvania, seeing as I was born out of wedlock, and wanting to clear the family name, and all that crap. No one knew us there, and we started over. He got married. I got a half-sister.

"He never talked about my birth mom. The most I was ever able to drag out of him was that she was beautiful and, underneath that, cruel. He even said she was still alive, but he wouldn't give me a name."

As he finished the sentence, something in him seemed to harden like freezing ice. His words abruptly became clipped. Bitter. Almost nonchalant.

"I was sixteen when I died. Saved my little sister from falling into a frozen pond. 'Cept I didn't die." His words were confusing and paradoxical, but Chiron waited patiently, his demeanor as unperturbed as the surface of a mill pond on a windless day. "I woke up coming out of the same pond I drowned in. No memory of how I got there. No memory of anything, actually. And the first thing I saw when I woke up was—"

"The moon," Chiron finished softly, as if he had known how it would end. The two beings gazed up at the shimmering sphere in the starry, saline sky. "Artemis," Chiron murmured.

"Yep," Jack chuckled harshly, his earlier musing manner gone. "My mom saved my life, gave me my powers—even renamed me. Frost...she didn't want me to have my dad's surname, I guess." In a moment of derisive anger, his voice deepened drastically with scathing sarcasm and his tone became angry and biting. "Yeah, let's do that!" He mocked, his rage bursting forth. "Bring my kid back to life! Oh, but make sure he doesn't remember anything about being a mortal boy! Yep, that's right, Hypnos! Erase his memories completely! Good! And now, let's leave him alone for three centuries where no one can see him or hear him! He gets to suffer for centuries!"

Chiron didn't respond immediately, and for a few moments Jack's words of pain resonated in the cool night air. When the aged centaur spoke, his voice was soft with wonder.

"A child of the true maiden goddess..." He whispered, his eyes rapt on the moon. "And a son, no doubt...with the handprint of Hypnos in his memories, the echo of Khione in his powers, with Boreas at your bidding..." He finally looked at Jack, who's stony glare remained on the moon. "Have you any idea of the raw power you hold? You are a masterpiece of the Gods, Jack. The product of the only time so many different deities worked together and were successful."

"Whoop de doo," snarked the immortal boy, his gaze heated and enraged.

A silence stretched out—the longest between them yet.

"Jack..." Chiron's words were now tentative, cautious. "You will have guessed...you know..." His horse half skittered nervously.

Jack stared at the moon as if his vision could bore holes into it.

"You know I must send Percy—"

"No," Jack snapped vehemently.

"But—"

"I said NO!" Jack snarled, slamming his staff on the ground, and in a bang and burst of blue light—the entire porch was encrusted with bristling ice. "His mother—Sally was Poseidon's daughter! That means my kid has the blood of three immortals in him! Do you understand how strong that makes his scent? Gabe and Sally could mask him okay, but they're gone now! He's defenseless! Take him out of camp, send him on a quest, and he dies!"

"He will learn to defend himself!" Chiron protested.

"Not well enough! Not with the time you'll give him! That damn bolt, I wish Zeus would just let me—!"

"Jack!" Chiron cried, his eyes blazing with purpose. "You have just connected his lineage! I will not tell a soul, but once you have said it everything is already done. Even if you had said nothing, Zeus would have found a way to kill him just for being your son. This is his one chance to prove to the other Gods that he can do the right thing!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Jack was struggling not to bellow now, and his hands were clenched in fists of rage. "What are they so afraid of?!"

"Of not knowing!" Chiron snapped. "Every immortal knows of the quarrel between you and Zeus. Percy would be the perfect candidate to steal the bolt! If he delivered it to you, you would have the will and power, so they say, to take revenge on Zeus!"

"But—but—"

"Jack, I know you wouldn't. And that you didn't! But that is because I know you! The other gods do not! Sides are being taken as we speak—some believe Poseidon stole it, others are convinced it was you. There are many other likely candidates, but it is easy to blame those who are not favored."

"Gee. Thanks."

Chiron sighed. "Jack...this is Percy's only chance to redeem himself in the eyes of Zeus. If he brought him the bolt—rescued it from wherever it was held—he would have eternal favor. He would be safer than ever. Perhaps...perhaps he might even repeal your oath."

Alright, now that was shaky, dangerous ground, and Chiron knew it. But he also knew that Jack wanted nothing (and nothing) more than to be with his son. To be with him.

Jack just scrubbed his face with his hands. "Gods, Chiron," he moaned, his voice breaking. "He's my kid. He's my kid."

But Chiron...

Chiron knew he meant yes.

hey! Well, enjoy this! SORRY SORRY SORRY FOR THE WAIT! I kno. It's been a while, but I'm back!

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