A/N: Hey, guys. New chapter for you. I have very little time so I won't be able to post any shoutout but I promise that by the next chapter, I will be replying to the reviews from the previous two chapters.

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Song of the chapter: BROKEN ANGEL by Boyce Avenue (which basically inspired this chapter)

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NEVER LET ME GO

Chapter 24: BROKEN ANGEL

ANNABETH

I wanted to recall a part of my childhood when I actually felt like a kid but I couldn't seem to think of one. Ever since my biological mother left us when I was two, every moment seemed to be filled with blame and unacceptance.

I could remember my ten year-old self hiding beneath the blankets when the nightmares become too much for me, knowing that if I did go to my father he would simply turn his back on me and would tell me to keep the lights on. But the bad dreams never went away. How could they when they were very much alive, breathing in every second off of my innocence? When I live them everyday?

Then there was that incident when I came home from school bearing an award. It was supposed to be a special day. I was expecting some pat on the back, or perhaps some treat. Instead I saw my Dad drunk on the table. I'd never seen him that drunk before.

It appeared that earlier that day he saw my Mom and she had her own family by then. Dad didn't take it lightly. I knew that even six years he was still in love with her.

"Dad?" I called, wanting to show him the certificate they gave me.

"Go to your room," he said firmly.

Of course I didn't. I sat down in front of him. I didn't say anything. I just looked at him and watched as he chugged the liquor straight from the bottle. Even when Dad was kind of detached ever since my mother left us, I still liked to think that we were close. We were all what each other had, after all.

He looked up at me and stared into my eyes. I knew that by doing so, he would be telling me what really happened. And I was right. He eventually told me about what he saw. I listened intently, because I'd always liked it whenever my Dad told me stories about my Mom.

I seemed to have tuned out Dad's anger about what he saw. I was to focused on him describing my mother and the little boy holding her hand.

"I have a younger brother?" I asked, excited. I'd always wanted a sibling. Being the only child was sad. I always envied my classmates who had siblings, even when they're annoying little brothers.

Dad was mad with my reaction. "Why are you even smiling?" he roared. "Did you just hear what I said? Your bitch of a mother is hooking up with another man!"

I got mad. I didn't really understand the meaning of that word, but I knew that it was bad to call someone that. "Don't call my Mom that!" I screamed at him.

Dad stood up and struck, his hand flying towards my face. I guess I was too focused on my conversation with my father that I didn't hear the door opening, or feel the presence of another person in the room.

Percy was there in an instant, taking the blow that was supposed to be mine. He was knocked over and fell sprawling on the floor. It wouldn't be that bad except that his hand caught an ugly urn set atop the counter. It broke into a hundred pieces and cut Percy's hand. He cried out in pain. There was blood instantly.

The color drained out of my father's face. I rushed forward and crouched next to my best friend. "Are you okay, Seaweed Brain?" I asked him. He tried to sit up but I guess the pain was making him wobbly. He ended up falling again. "Dad!" I cried out for my father in alarm.

He lifted Percy up and ran outside to his car, with me running after them. We had to take Percy to the hospital. He had to get stitches for the cuts on his palm.

I thought he was going to tell Sally about what really happened and I got sad thinking that she might not let me come over again and that I would lose my best friend. But he didn't. Percy told Sally that he tripped and he broke a vase in our house. Instead of my Dad apologizing for hurting her son, Sally was the one who said she was sorry for what happened.

I thought Percy was mad at me because he didn't talk the whole drive to his house, but when he was closing the door, he winked at me and made typing motions with his uninjured hands. I knew he was going to find a way to use his mom's cellphone to text me and I had to find a way to take my Dad's.

Dad didn't open it up and I knew he was scared that Percy might still tell and Sally would sue him. But after a few days of silence, he calmed down and didn't drink again.

"Mommy!" Noah's voice broke my reverie and I looked up, to find my son with his cheek puffed and his hand on his stomach. I ran up to him, grabbed the basin under his bed and held it in front of him just in time as he threw up last night's dinner. Chocking sounds came from him as I rubbed his back.

The unfairness of the situation washed through me. Why couldn't I take away his suffering? Why couldn't I be the one on his position?

Some of the vile ended on my arm and shirt, the foul smell making its way to my nose but I didn't care in the least. What killed me was the fact that there was nothing I could do about it.

I shook my head and decided not to dwell on these negative thoughts. It's not like those would ease Noah's suffering. I had to remind myself that what I felt didn't matter.

Noah straighted after emptying his stomach, leaning against the headboard on his bed. There bits of food on his cheek but I kissed those away. It was the least I could do.

"Thank you, Mommy," he said.

I gave him a smile. "That's not a problem." I bent down and hid the basin under the bed to cover the fact that it wasn't just only vile, but also blood, on it. Dr. Mears had told me about it. There really was the possibility of this happening. iNothing to be freaked out abouti, I told myself.

"You wanna sleep?" I asked him. Noah nodded. I drew the blanket up to his chin and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Rest well; I'll be right here."

He gave me a kiss on the cheek before closing his eyes, knowing very well why he needed to sleep. In a few hours, we would be conducting another bone marrow transplant, so he had to be at his healthiest.

I watched Noah for some time, watching every little move he made as he lay on the bed. When I was sure that he was asleep, I took the basin from under and went to the comfort room to clean it up.

After throwing the contents down the drain, I let the cold water from the faucet run down the basin. I didn't notice that my hands were shaking until a hand closed the faucet off. I looked up and saw Percy staring at me.

"You okay?" he asked. I gave him a weak nod. "You did great back there," he commented as he took the basin from me, setting it atop the table. "So much better than me."

I shook my head. "If you just knew; it's all I could do not to scream and punch a hole in the wall."

"I saw that, too," he answered. "If it was me, that's exactly what I would've done." He looked at me. "You handle your emotion way better than I do."

"You give yourself too little credit," I told him. When Percy didn't reply, I pushed past him and sat down on the couch opposite my son's bed. He was staring at our son, a protective burning in it. "How was the funeral?" I asked.

Percy shrugged, sitting beside me. "I gave a eulogy for Luke," he said.

"Is that why you took long? You eulogy was too long?" I asked in a lame attempt to lighten the solemn mood that seemed to hang on us every single day.

Percy smiled. "No. My speech was actually pretty short. I had to go to Connecticut to find a man." He looked up at me, knowing very well what my question was going to be. "Luke's father. I tried convincing him to come with me."

"Tried?"

"I failed," he replied shortly. "He said he's not going to see his son lying in a box lifeless." Percy paused. "It made me think of . . . of," he stumbled on his words, unable to continue.

"I know," I said quietly. I saw his hands clenched tightly on top of his leg and I reached out to take it massaging the tensed muscles until it relaxed. Percy opened his palm and let blood rush back to his fingertips. His skin felt the same as I remembered against mine. Even the rough criss-cross stitches were familiar. "Do you remember how you got these scars?" I asked as I ran the tip of my pointy finger on the largest one on his palm.

Percy chuckled. "Your Dad gave them to me," he said. I smiled, remembering how freaked out I was that night.

"Then you texted me, but you typed 'I'm oakey' which really made me laugh."

"Hey, I got bandage on my hand!" he protested and we both laughed. "Do you think Noah would do the same for his best friend when he grows up?" Percy asked.

"I'm sure he will," I answered. "He's very much like his father."

"Then I'll get to knock his best friend's father upside the face."

"Do you think he'll want you to?"

Percy didn't answer but the smile on his lips was enough of an answer to me. He was about to open his mouth to say something but a knock on the door interrupted him.

We both looked up and I gave a strangled gasp. It was my father.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," Dad said. "And honestly, Annie, I'm not proud of what I did."

We were right outside Noah's room, sitting on the bench. Percy, my stepbrothers and stepmother were all inside, giving us the alone time that my father requested.

"Five years ago I made you choose," he continued. "I made you face two impossible choices: stay with them or be given the chance to fix our broken family, to move back in with us after kicking you out. You chose us. I'm not sure of your reasons for making that choice but I want you to know mine." He looked at me, his blue eyes soft. "I needed you, Annie. I always have." He paused. "Even with Nina in the picture, and the twins, you're still the one I needed the most."

I couldn't answer because my throat felt too tight. My Dad may not have been the best father in the world but I saw how much he tried to be a good one after my mother left us. He had some slips; he'd physically and verbally hurt me some time but I didn't hold that against him. I knew that our situation took its toll on him, and the fact that I believe he hadn't really moved on from my mother.

"I was scared," he went on. "I was terrified that they would take you away from me permanently, and that I was losing you for good. I wasn't ready for that, Annie. I wasn't ready to lose you." He breathed and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "And then you made your choice. You went back and I thought I was going to finally feel some peace of mind. But I didn't. Instead I watched you hate yourself. I wanted to do something. I wanted to talk to you but I didn't think I could stand you despising me. You believed that you're a bad person, but let me tell you this: You're the best person in this messed up world. And me? I'm not a good person, Annie; I make all the wrong choices and of all the bad choices I made, that proved to be the worst one." He paused and took my hand, looking me in the eyes yet again. "I know I will never forgive myself for everything I've done but it would do your old man some good to know that you will. I'm sorry, Annie. For all the times I hurt you, I'm sorry."

I couldn't answer. Tears were rolling down my cheeks relentlessly.

"Is my girl still here? Is my daughter still in there?" he asked. His voice quivered on the last word and I reached out to draw him in a hug. Truth was, I missed him. These days, I felt alone and I would always think back on the days that Dad and I were going along. He was the one who raise me. I couldn't hate him.

"She's here, Dad," I whispered to his ear. "She's staying here and she's not going anywhere. You will never lose her." I kissed his cheek, then the side of his head then hugged him fiercely again. "I'm sorry, too, Dad. For what happened five years ago. I know you probably blamed yourself because I got pregnant early but it wasn't you, Dad; it was me. I was just one of those love-crazed, heavily infatuated teen."

Dad chuckled and broke our embrace. "But you don't regret it," he observed. "And you shouldn't. That's one special boy you've got there. I would love to meet him."

"And you will," I told him. "But before we go back inside, I just want to say something." Dad caught himself and looked back at me. "Forgive yourself, Dad. You're not a bad person. You see your faults but I saw your efforts. I saw how hard you worked to fulfill the duties of being both my mother and father and I'm proud to say I was raised by one Frederick Chase."

Dad smiled and gave me a kiss on the forehead before hugging me again. He then stood up and grabbed my hand. "Now how about introducing me to that grandson of mine?"

I laughed and wiped the tears away from my cheeks as I lead him back into the room.

Matthew and Bobby were sitting on either side of Noah's bed, arguing. I guess the idea of being uncles at the age of thirteen excited them both. Nina and Percy were standing at the corner watching them.

Noah brightened when he saw me. "Mommy, I have two uncles!" he declared happily. Matthew, who was sitting on his left side gave him a high-five.

I could separate the twins by their choice of clothes. Bobby is somewhat of a careless dresser. He usually puts on a shirt printed with a picture of his favorite bands, partnered with shorts. Matthew, on the other hand, prefers button down shirts and jeans.

"But I don't know who is Uncle Bobby and who is Uncle Matt!" he announced. Percy chuckled from the corner.

"Uncle Bobby is more handsome!" Bobby announced.

"You wish!" Matthew argued.

Noah looked confused. "You look the same," he pointed out, which made everyone in the room laugh.

"Just remember this, Noah," Bobby said. My son looked at him eagerly. "Uncle Bobby knows a lot of girls; I can get you one."

"Bobby, he's too young!" Nina scolded from the corner but she, too, was smiling.

"Besides, he already has a girlfriend," Percy shared. "Her name's Cassie."

"Daddy!" Noah exclaimed.

"Wait, why haven't you introduced her to me, yet?" I butt in. Noah gave me a questioning look. "Well, your Mom's got to approve of your girlfriend,right?" I teased him.

"Mommy!" he protested.

I winked at him.

Dad squeezed my hand, reminding me of his small request. I stepped forward. "Noah, I want you to meet someone." I pushed my father forward. "This is your grandfather."

Dad signaled Bobby to move from his place. When he did, Dad sat down and took his place. "Hello, Aedan Noah," he greeted him, touching his shoulder.

My son looked at him. "Grandfather?" he asked, head cocked to one side. "Like Granddad Poseidon?"

"Yes," Dad answered, his voice a little hoarse. I knew he was tentative doing this, probably thinking that Noah wasn't going to accept him.

My son grinned at him. "Can I call you Pops?" he asked, no doubt referring to how the kid from a movie we saw the other night called his grandfather.

Dad chuckled, the tension leaving his shoulders. "I'd say that's very cool." Noah's grin widened and gave my Dad a high five.

For the next hour, Dad told Noah stories about my childhood while Bobby bugged Percy if he knew any 'hot chick' in New York with Matthew begging Percy to be his mentor and teach him all about marine life.

Nina and I talked. There was no more bad blood between us. I knew that when I was younger, I saw her as some sort of evil witch, but that was just because Dad was spending his time with her, which made me dislike her.

She is a very pretty woman from Bulgaria who Dad met in California when he went there to conduct some research. She also had gray eyes, which I always though curious. Nina told me she contacted my Mom and told her that I need her.

I was about to reply when someone knocked on the door. Dr. Mears let himself in. "It's time," he told me.

I nodded and looked at Noah. The smile on his lips disappeared and I knew he was scared. I went to his bed and took his hand. "You can do this," I encouraged him, bringing his hand to my lips. "Tough Noah Jackson, remember?"

He nodded. "Brave Noah," he confirmed.

"Bad-ass Noah," Percy piped in, which made our son chuckle.

"What is it?" Dad asked.

"Bone marrow transplant," I answered simply. Dad was a brainiac like me so I knew he understood. I looked at Percy. "You'll go with Noah?" I asked. He nodded. "Alright, come on; I'm ready."

I was on my way to the door when Dad grabbed my hand. "I'm going with you," he told me, squaring his shoulders, letting me know I didn't have a choice. "You're not doing this alone. Not anymore."

[Next - Chapter 25: LOST IN THE ECHO]