So I meant for this to be up by Christmas...but I somehow managed to get sick :l

But it's kind of a long chapter...even though I meant it to be longer in the beginning

I swear there's going to be actual cute reunion stuff really, really soon! I have all of winter break to write that chapter, and I promise you it'll e adorable!

I hadn't visited home in a long time.

It was just another thing that I felt horrible about. I just kept adding to that list.

Sure, I visited right after the final battle. I would be insane not to. I spent a couple of days at camp, helping wrap things up. But the second I could get away from all the responsibility? I went straight home, fidgeting the whole cab ride there. Nervous, panicking. And all because I didn't know what was going to happen.

I didn't know how it would go. I didn't know what to expect. I'd only been able to communicate with her very briefly, just that one phone call from Alaska (which she hadn't even answered) and a few short letters carried by wind spirits. Only a handful of words spread over months and months...

I knew that it could be bad, really bad.

My mother loved me so much...and I know that I'm not...easy. I've never been easy, not once in my entire life. Always getting kicked out of the schools she paid so much money for me to attend. Always getting awful grades. Always being difficult. Forcing her into that damned marriage with Gabe...

I knew I was a fuck-up...but she still loved me even though I felt like I did nothing but hurt her.

She'd lived so much of her life in fear...and I can't imagine what it was like for her, seeing me as a little kid and just knowing how miserable my life would be. Knowing the heartbreak I would face. Knowing all the pain I would go through. Knowing that she had to put the both of us through hell with just to keep me alive and hidden. Knowing that one day...I might not come home, that I might face a fate worse than death.

Because I could have so easily ended up falling in with Luke and Kronos. I could have fought for the end of the gods, the end of the world. I despised the gods, after all. I knew better than most the complete and absolute frustration of being used, being little more than a pawn in their little games. I knew what it was like to be ignored. Both Luke and I had felt abandoned by our dads. Hermes left him with his insane mother, and Poseidon left me with Gabe. It would have been so much easier to unleash years of pent-up anger than to forgive...

Gods...I knew that I'd put her through hell. For all the pain I'd gone through, she'd gone through just as much. All those summers spent on quests, all the battles and wars, they'd been hell for both of us. There had been so many disappearances followed by hurried Iris messages. Sometimes I didn't even have that luxury, sometimes she was left totally in the dark. She must have been so scared every time I left home, not knowing what was going to happen to me. Knowing that every summer there was the distinct possibility that I would be killed or maimed or worse.

But somehow, it turned out okay. My mom was still okay after all these months. Maybe she looked more tired than usual, her hair a bit grayer and her face more lined, but overall...she seemed okay. Thankfully not what I imagined.

But I wasn't okay. I was far from okay, even back then. I was just starting to get bad, just starting to give up on...living, caring. It was only the beginning, but it was already getting bad. I played pretend though. I pretended I was fine for her because I didn't want her to see me at my worse.

I walked through the door, and immediately there were tears shed by all of us, Paul included, which surprised me. He didn't try to hide his...but I tried to hide mine, pretending I was perfectly okay. I didn't want them to worry about me any more than they already did.

So, of course, I'd been dreading the part of the evening where I would be forced to talk about everything that had happened. It was the part I'd always dreaded, ever since the beginning of all this demigod crap. Every summer, after I came home from whatever quest or battle or war I was fighting, I was expected to talk to her about it. She rationalized it in her own way. She thought that I needed someone to talk to, someone I could vent to and never be judged by. And I did need that...I just didn't want it to be her.

I didn't want my mom to know about all the stuff I'd been through since being kidnapped by Hera. I didn't want her to know how bad it was because I didn't want her to worry about me, I didn't want to upset her. I'd put her through enough, she didn't need to know...about the nightmares, the pain and fear and sadness, the flashbacks, the phobias, the not eating. I just...wanted to be normal. I wanted to be a normal, good son for her because that's what she deserved.

But if I didn't say anything, she would know something was up. So I told her almost everything over dinner that night, she'd even cooked my favorite meal.

Keyword being almost. I tried to keep myself steady through the whole ordeal, not betraying the calm, composed mask I was hanging on to for dear life. It was all I had left, I couldn't let it slip away because then...I would never be able to stay home.

Home didn't make me happy anymore, it was that simple. I should have enjoyed it, right? I should have been happy to see them, happy to have a home-cooked meal.

But I wasn't. I wasn't happy because my mom and Paul seemed so happy...and I just wasn't. I'd thought, for a just a foolish moment, that coming home would help, but it didn't. I thought seeing my mom would help...but nothing would. Nothing helped, and nothing could.

If I stayed any longer, I would have to keep up the act, pretend everything was fine. I would have to figure out how to stop the nightmares, stop myself from waking up screaming. I would have to fake smiles and force conversation. I would have to choke down all food when eating itself was nauseating...

And I knew I would never be able to. At the time, I could already feel myself being pulled under. I could already feel myself slipping, the last few shreds of the masks falling away. I knew I couldn't keep it up, the few hours spent home had been exhausting.

So I went back to camp and hid myself away. I didn't have to pretend I was okay there because everyone already knew what had happened to me. They knew about the war and about Tartarus. They knew I was messed up. And for the most part, everyone left me alone.

And after going to camp, letting myself fall apart...it was far too late to go back home. If I went back, my mom would know immediately that something was wrong, just from my appearance alone. She would go back to being worried, even though there was nothing she could do to help.

But now...now I was back to pretending to be okay. I had to hope that the help Nico had given me would be enough to get me through this.

So I put on a brave face and knocked on the door, taking a deep breath and pleading to any god that would listen. I needed to keep this up...

My mom welcomed me home with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I hugged her back, and I didn't cry this time. I couldn't let myself cry.

I sat down in the living room and watched a baseball game with Paul while my mom made dinner. It all felt so normal, like nothing was wrong.

I inevitably had to choke down dinner, cleaning my plate without much conversation. Normally I would have enjoyed the food, but I just...didn't. I sat in silence while my mom and Paul tried everything to get me to participate. After running out of topics, my mom asked about Annabeth...and I just had to break the news. She didn't know what to say, but I could tell she was worried.

Maybe my breakup would be enough to explain my behavior. I could get away with the lack of interest and the sulking and loss of appetite if that was all because of a girl. I'm sure my mom would accept it, at least for a little while.

I went to bed early, telling my mom I was exhausted. It wasn't even a lie.

I felt drained.

I went to my room, which really didn't feel like my room, and curled up on the bed that didn't feel like my bed. I'd been gone for so long that I felt like a stranger here. It didn't really feel like home...but it was as close as I could get.

I couldn't go back to camp, no matter how much I wanted to. This place would have to do. I would have to keep up this act.

I would have to figure out how to be okay...

I lasted four months.

It was December in New York, just days away from Christmas.

I should feel great. Christmastime in New York was incredible, so full of cheer and energy and romance. I was home, I would get to spend the holidays with my mom and Paul without interuption. No quests, no demigod bullshit. I could be part of a happy, normal family.

But I felt worse than ever.

I was miserable, drained, and worn down. Every single day since I walked through the apartment door was exactly the same. A monotonous, endless cycle of exhausting acting.

The nightmares were getting worse without...him...to help, and sleep was getting harder to come by. I would roll out of bed and eat breakfast as if I hadn't just woken up in a cold sweat.

I went to school with Paul and I did my work, or at least tried to. Most of the days, I was too tired to pay attention, and sometime I fell asleep during class. The few mortal friends I had before the war seemed to understand pretty quickly that I wasn't going to be talking, that I didn't want them around. I sat alone at lunch, I didn't join any sports teams. I didn't do much of anything, really...So I just kept to myself. I didn't bother other people, so they didn't bother me.

People from camp didn't bother me either. In the early days of my self-imposed exile, I would get IMs from Jason and Annabeth. I'm sure they were wondering what was wrong, why I'd left so suddenly. I ignored them, for the most part, but they got annoying. Finally, late into September, I answered one from Annabeth, just wanting them to end. I thought she was the better choice, considering she already knew about...everything. I barely let her talk, I just told her I was fine, that I just needed to get away, that I didn't want any news. I pleaded to just be left alone. I hung up abruptly, not wanting to hear her rebuttal.

And they did leave me alone, they seemed to get the message just like my mortal friends. After I answered Annabeth's message, nothing else came my way.

I kind of wished that philosophy would carry over to my home.

Nobody would leave me alone there.

See, my mom hadn't quite caught on to how bad I was, but by late December, she started suspecting that it was something more than "just Annabeth". So she started changing things.

I was being forced to sit out in the living room and talk instead of sulking in my bedroom.

Paul would watch TV with me and try to talk to me in that kind of paternal way I had very little experience with. Under the guise of "guy talk", he would tell me about all the bad relationships he'd been in, and all the sad breakups. But then he told me that he was glad for all those breakups, because they'd ultimately lead him to meeting my mom. I knew he was just trying to make me feel better, that my mom had put him up to it.

And my mom would bake cookies and make my favorite dinners to try to get me to talk about what was wrong.

I didn't want to though. They both seemed so convinced that the problem was Annabeth, and I guess I had to be thankful for that. It gave me more time to think about what I would say if...if they ever found out what the real problem was.

So I just kept telling them I wasn't feeling well, pretending that I would be okay with a little more time.

I couldn't plan for the long term. All I could do was try to string them along and hope they bought my...lies.

Because honestly?

I wasn't getting better. Distance wasn't making it any easier.

I still though about Nico every day. I still had nightmares about all the bad things that could happen, and had...other...dreams about the good things. I missed him like crazy. I missed his smile, his laugh, his voice. I missed having him there as a friend, hanging out with him. I missed having him there when I was upset.

I just missed him...

If anything, this distance was making it worse.

I needed him. I knew now that I would never get better, that these feelings wouldn't be fading any time soon.

I had no idea what to do...

Please let me know what you think!