Raine Robins had a straight black bob-cut, a soft face, and steel eyes that reminded Percy immediately of Rachel. She also had an easy, reassuring smile, and an omega patch on her breast pocket.

Percy glanced down at that, then back up at her warily. "That means you know about Greek stuff, right?" he said haltingly.

"That's exactly what it means," Raine agreed. "Or at least, that I know of it – I'm afraid clearsighted mortals tend to be rather out-of-the-loop on current events compared to demigods. Letitia briefed me on a lot, but I'm sure there are some gaps."

Percy shrugged. "Okay." He hesitated, and then, stiffly, asked, "Am I supposed to be talking about suicide or whatever?"

"Only if you want to," Raine said, and then, with a touch of humor, "And it sounds like you don't. Don't worry, today is just so we can get acquainted. I'd like to get a feel for your situation before we start delving into specifics, and I imagine it'll take a session or two before you're comfortable. Would you rather go for a walk?"

Percy nodded, and then they were both out the door and heading down to the food garden at an idle pace.

"Can you tell me about your family?" Raine asked, looking more at the plants than at him as they went down the path. "Working here, I'm used to patients with particularly difficult family backgrounds, but I understand that might not be... entirely the case for you."

"My mom is the best person in the whole world," Percy said firmly, "and I'd do anything to make sure she was happy." He thought for a moment, and then continued, "I got pretty lucky with my dad. Um, Poseidon, and he likes me a lot – more than most divine parents bother with their kids. So that's good, I guess."

"You're hesitating," Raine observed.

"Uh," Percy said. "I dunno if you know about the oath."

"Nothing comes to mind," Raine admitted. Percy winced.

"My dad likes me," Percy repeated. "I'm really lucky for that. But, um. After World War II, he, Zeus, and Hades all swore on the River Styx not to have any more children." Thunder grumbled. "That's like, a magically binding oath. So that makes things kind of... awkward."

"To say the least," Raine agreed, somehow maintaining a light humor. Percy smiled, relaxing a little.

"I've had two stepfathers," Percy continued, "The current one, Paul, is a really good guy. English teacher. But the old one, Smelly Gabe, was a piece of shit and I'm glad he's dead."

"Abusive?" Raine asked, a little more gentle. Percy nodded stiffly. "What kind, if I may ask?"

Several seconds of stifling silence passed.

"Fuck," Percy muttered at last, irritated with himself. "That shouldn't be a hard question."

"You don't have to answer right now," Raine said. Percy shook his head sharply.

"Emotional and physical," Percy forced out. Despite how hard it was, it was kind of a relief to get it out, and he tacked on before he could reconsider, "He didn't beat me or anything, he just hit me sometimes."

To make me do things, he'd meant to add, but his throat closed up before he could. Even that was more than he could usually say; Annabeth and Grover knew that Gabe was abusive, but he'd never told them that Gabe actually hit him.

"Thank you, that helps a lot," Raine said kindly. "Is that all for your family?"

A smile flickered across Percy's face. "Besides all the extended Greek," he said with amusement, and Raine chuckled. "Oh, wait- I have a half-brother, Tyson. He's from my dad's side too, but we're good friends so he counts anyway. He made me my shield." He smiled sheepishly. "Uh, a couple of times, since I keep breaking it."

"A good brother," Raine said. "And your friends?"

They talked like that for the rest of the hour, light, relatively simple conversation about Percy's social life, his schoolwork, what he did for fun, his role at Camp Half-Blood... It felt weird to talk about himself, especially for so long, but Percy found that he didn't mind so much. Raine was good at pretending to be interested.

"Can you tell me about what led to your referral here?" she asked at last, when they were moving to head back to the main building. Percy made a sound of discomfort. "We don't need to analyze it right now. I'd just like to know what happened."

Percy made another, equally unhappy sound, but nodded.

"Thalia and I were complaining about Zeus," Percy said, "because frankly there's a lot to complain about there." Thunder cracked, and he rolled his eyes. "And it was all in good fun at first, but then I started thinking about the fact that Zeus keeps trying to execute me, and a few of the other gods agree with him, and... I told Thalia that I was thinking about getting it over with." He shrugged, embarrassed again. "I thought she'd understand, I guess. But instead she told Chiron."

"Are you angry with her?" Raine asked.

"Yeah," Percy admitted. "Not, like, 'someone accusing me of something I didn't do' angry. More like 'the Stolls told everyone that the new kid wets the bed and now they're crying.' I mean, I guess I didn't ask her to keep it a secret, but like. It wasn't supposed to be a thing."

"Very few people enjoy making a fuss," Raine agreed. "But sometimes a fuss is what is called for."

Percy didn't reply, reluctant to encourage that topic, and so they stayed quiet until they were settled back in Raine's office. Raine took some notes while Percy played with an iridescent fidget spinner, and eventually Raine put her pencil down and asked him, "Do you have any questions?"

Percy considered for a moment. "Do I have to do anything before next session?"

"You don't have to," Raine said. "But it would be helpful if you thought about what you want out of therapy, or what you think we could work on."

"I'm still kinda confused about why I'm here," Percy pointed out.

"That's alright," Raine said, with a quiet chuckle. "You can think of it as a productive way to pass the time, if you want. You're here anyway, so pick a few things that you think would benefit from some perspective, or worries that you haven't wanted to talk to your friends about, and we can go over them."

Percy eyed her. "So like, if I wanted to complain about teachers making me feel stupid..."

"Then that's what we'll talk about," Raine confirmed.

"Even though that doesn't have anything to do with what I said to Thalia?" Percy asked.

"You'd be surprised what threads are connected in your mind," Raine said. "The issue is likely much more complicated than even you realize it is, so we'll discuss a wide variety of topics to tackle it. But do remember that I'll be guiding the conversation toward the areas you seem to have the most trouble with, and it would be more productive if you went along with it."

Percy frowned at the fidget spinner, watching it whirl. "That makes sense, I guess. I'll try."

"That's as much as I'll ask of you." Raine jotted something down, and then added, "Oh, and if you bump into something that particularly upsets you outside of these sessions, please make a note of it so we can discuss it, even if it's not something you're ready to approach yet. And if it gets particularly bad, you can ask someone to come get me. Understand?"

Like going and getting someone's cabin counselor, Percy figured. He nodded hesitantly. "Yeah. I dunno if it'll come up though. Like I said, I'm not completely sure why I'm here."

Raine made a note and smiled at him. "That's fine. I just want you to know you can do that. I won't mind."

After individual therapy, they had a couple different blocks – a coping skills workshop, a yoga lesson, some time out in the garden. Percy wasn't used to working with plants; it was mostly the Demeter kids, the Dionysus twins, and the nature spirits that looked after the strawberries.

The instructor had a lot to say – not just about plant care, but also about the importance of spending time outside for mental health, and dirt, and leaves.

"There's a reason NASA is trying to figure out how to grow plants on space stations," the instructor explained. He had an omega on his pocket, Percy noticed. "It's not just so we can grow food. Humans get restless if they're away from plants for too long; working with them is soothing on a biological level."

Percy listened for a while, but when he noticed some of the others starting to talk among themselves, he shifted gears. Kieran was looking upset and tense, but he was also talking to Leilani, who seemed to have him in hand. And Alfie was alone.

Percy crawled down the row and settled next to Alfie, who eyed him warily. Percy gave a cursory glance around to make sure no one was too close, and then plucked a snap pea and bit into it.

"Hey," Percy said at last, giving Alfie the reassuring grin he gave new campers. "Letitia said you're clearsighted and that I should introduce myself."

Alfie's eyes widened, and he scooted a little closer before whispering desperately, "Is that why you're here too?"

Percy shook his head, but didn't give Alfie the time to do more than flinch before he clarified, "My mom's clearsighted. I'm a demigod."

"Oh," Alfie said, low and fascinated. "Can I ask you stuff? Please? I've never been able to talk to a demigod for more than ten seconds, they're always being chased by monsters." He inhaled sharply. "Wait, fuck, are there monsters here?"

Percy shook his head, but Alfie didn't look convinced. He looked one way, down the other, suddenly rigid with fright. He took another breath, labored and wheezing, and another, too short. It took Percy a moment to realize that Alfie was hyperventilating, and the instructor was making his way over, weaving through the obstacle course of children. Percy reached out and grasped Alfie's hand.

"There's no monsters here, we're both safe," Percy said firmly. "Take a breath- great, you're doing great. Let it out, take another. Nothing but food plants for like a mile in every direction. You with me?"

Alfie wheezed, rubbing his chest. "Sorry. I fucking hate monsters."

"Yeah, me too," Percy said with some amusement, and glanced up as the instructor reached them. He was frowning, a furrow of worry between his eyebrows.

"Everything alright here?" he asked.

Percy looked at Alfie, who was still breathing a little fast, clearly struggling to keep it controlled. But Alfie nodded without looking up.

"Yeah," Alfie wheezed. "Yeah. Just give me a minute."

Percy looked up at the instructor, who wasn't convinced. "I've got him," he promised.

The instructor hesitated, but when Alfie nodded too, he gave in and returned to the class, talking about natural forms of pest control.

"Thanks," Alfie said hoarsely. "Sorry."

Percy squeezed the hand he was still holding. "Don't worry about it. I deal with a lot of new campers at Camp Half-Blood, so I've got some practice calming kids down. Anyway, one of the first things Letitia told me was that monsters have a really hard time getting in here 'cause of all the clearsighted staff."

Alfie stared at him. "Clearsighted staff keep monsters out?" he asked, strangled. "Monsters?"

Percy's sympathy ratcheted up. Yeah, it had to be hard knowing monsters exist and not having the weapons to fight them. "Most monsters have human intelligence, they like to infiltrate places. So you'll get, like, a manticore posing as a vice principal, an empousa pretending to be a cheerleader, Lastrygonians acting like students." Percy shrugged. "None of that works against mortals that can see through the Mist. It's too much trouble to get in here. Nothing smart will bother."

"Oh," Alfie wheezed. Percy squeezed his hand again, and then, slow and deliberate, let go.

"Come on," he said, giving Alfie a grin. "We've got cherry tomatoes to deadhead."

They worked quietly for a while, and eventually, Alfie's breathing evened out enough to sound natural, and he relaxed. A few minutes after that, he apparently roused himself enough to start asking questions.

"How come people don't notice monsters if they're infiltrating schools all the time?" he asked Percy, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth.

"They don't hurt mortals as long as they don't cause trouble," Percy explained. "Like, none of those things I mentioned were random examples. The manticore chaperoned an entire dance hall until he got a chance to lead the demigods out, the empousai were conducting orientation until I showed up, and the Lastrygonians only threw deadly dodgeballs at me and my brother even though there was an entire class of mortal kids there. Hell, Mrs. Dodds, one of the Furies, was my teacher for months before I even knew she was a monster. I just thought she was an asshole."

Alfie whimpered, apparently not entirely comforted. "And what does 'causing trouble' look like?"

"Uh," Percy said, and smiled sheepishly. "Rachel threw a drum at one of the empousai. And... my mom baited the Minotaur to distract it." He glanced away. "They're both okay now, but the monsters – those monsters, not all monsters, I mean – stopped ignoring them after that."

"Why would they do that," Alfie hissed.

Percy abandoned the plant and sat back on his heels, abruptly cold. He looked away, hugging himself as if for warmth. "They were helping me. I'm not a mortal. Monsters want to eat me as soon as they smell me."

"Oh," Alfie said, very softly. "That makes sense."

An awkward minute of silence passed, and then Percy managed a smile for Alfie.

"Clearsighted mortals really are kept out of the loop, huh?" he said. "Sorry."

Alfie shrugged. "Are demigods not?"

"Nah," Percy said. "We'd die out real fast. Demigods go to Camp Half-Blood, and there's Chiron, the nature spirits, and all of the older campers to help out there." He shot Alfie a small smile. "I've been going to Camp Half-Blood every summer for about five years now, so I've got a lot of practice bringing new campers up to speed."

"Is that a long time?" Alfie asked hesitantly. Percy thought about it and blinked.

"Huh. I guess it is." He shrugged. "My girlfriend, Annabeth, has been there for ten years, so I'm not used to thinking of it as a long time. But there are new kids showing up all the time."

"How many children can the gods have?" Alfie demanded. Percy snorted, a hint of bitterness making its way into the sound.

"Lots," he said flatly. "The Apollo cabin alone has more than twenty campers from eleven to seventeen."

"He has a lot of sex," Alfie whispered incredulously. Percy rolled his eyes.

"Apparently. Gods know how. He's nice, but kind of obnoxious."

"You've met him?"

Percy nodded. "You'd be surprised how human the gods can be." Thunder grumbled. "Erre es korakas, Zeus- Apollo likes to recite really bad poetry, and apparently he's been into haikus the last couple decades. He also let my cousin drive the sun and immediately regretted it." He shot Alfie a grin. "Hermes gets a lot of text messages and emails all the time, and the snakes on his caduceus beg him for rats every time he takes his phone out. And Dionysus has literally never won a card game against Chiron despite being, like, the god of gambling."

By the time he finished, Alfie was smiling. "I thought they'd be scarier."

"They can be scary," Percy clarified, since that was kind of a dangerous misunderstanding. "You definitely shouldn't be, like, flagrantly disrespectful. But they're people too. Always have been, I think."

"Can you tell me about the rest of them?" Alfie asked. "I've always wondered."

So Percy spent the rest of the gardening block telling Alfie about the gods, sharing the funnier stories he could conjure up. It was clear the Greek stuff was freaking Alfie out, and Percy figured that was fair – Percy, at least, had a sword to fight monsters with, and a god mildly invested in his wellbeing.

"You don't seem scared of any of this stuff," Alfie said, when they were on their way back inside. His voice was filled with wonder. "When you said you were a demigod, I kinda figured that was why you're here. What is it if it's not 'cause you're scared?"

A shiver ran down his spine, and Percy stared at the path ahead without really seeing it, mind drifting back, as always, to that veiled argument about the Ophiotaurus.

"Zeus and Athena think I shouldn't be allowed to live," he said. "The rest of them kinda go back and forth. I guess that's put some weird thoughts in my head."

"Oh," Alfie said. "Oh. That sucks, dude."

Percy laughed, cracked and shakier than he'd expected. "Yeah, it does."

The conversation petered out, but they were on their way to group therapy, so when they filtered into the playroom-office it took place in, Percy grabbed an abacus off a shelf and sprawled near Alfie, pushing the beads back and forth idly. Cassia was already here, crossed-legged and waiting for them.

"How's everyone doing today?" she asked brightly, unfazed by the chorus of mumbled and noncommittal answers she got in return. "Come on, let's everyone go around and share one good and one bad thing that's happened since we met. Percy, can you start us off?"

Percy grimaced, but only had to think about it for a moment before he answered. "Uh, one good thing is that I talked to my mom, and one bad thing is that I slept badly and now I'm real tired."

"Thank you, Percy," Cassia said. "Alfie?"

"One good thing is that Percy and I had a really good conversation," Alfie said. Percy blushed and hid his face against his arm. "One bad thing is that all the food at lunch today was gross."

They went around, Cassia making encouraging gestures until everyone had finally gone.

"Thank you, everyone," Cassia said. "Now that we've warmed up and checked that everyone's voices are working, I thought that today we could talk about school." Percy groaned; so did a couple of the other kids. Cassia chuckled. "I know, I know- but schoolwork is an important part of a teenager's self-esteem, so onto the agenda it goes. We're going to start with the sit-up game. Everyone get on your backs, and you sit up if a statement applies to you, and lay down if it doesn't."

Already grumpy, Percy rolled over onto his back and scowled at the ceiling. This sucked. Even Annabeth knew not to ask Percy about school.

"Who here has felt like another student was picking on them?" Percy sat up, not especially surprised to see every other kid do the same. "What about a teacher?" Alfie, Amna, and Jet plopped back down, but the rest stayed up. "Who's failed a class?" Jet sat back up; Leilani, Elliot, and Kieran laid down. "Who's cried in a school building?" Jet and Rose laid down, but everyone else was sitting. "Let's talk about this one for a bit."

Percy bit back a sarcastic 'great.' Gods, he hated talking about school.

"Leilani, could you share what set you off?" Cassia asked, not unsympathetically. Leilani rested her chin on her arms, looking sullen, and mumbled something. "Come again, dear?"

"Teacher yelled at me for using the girls' bathroom," Leilani forced out, looking miserable. "She called me a pervert."

"Can you tell us how you responded?" Cassia asked gently.

"Yelled at her," Leilani muttered. "I'm allowed to use the girls' bathroom. It's a law and everything. But then I went to the boys' room and cried." She eyed Cassia, anticipated the question, and continued without waiting to be asked, "I was upset that she knew I was trans just by looking at me, and worried that I'd never be able to use a public bathroom without getting yelled at. And I was mad that I felt bad enough to go to the boys' room anyway. But I don't want people to think I'm a pervert. I'm not a pervert and it's not my fault I don't look more like a girl. I try really hard!"

"We know you do, Leilani," Cassia reassured her.

"She wasn't even trying to pay attention," Percy agreed, managing a smile for Leilani. He gestured vaguely to his face. "You've got the makeup stuff down pat, and your hair is styled and everything. You look good."

"Why's she even looking at you?" Rose put forward, arms crossed over her lap. "Wash your hands and leave, ma'am."

Amna nodded. "It's really weird to talk to strangers in the bathroom. I think she's the pervert."

Leilani laughed a little, rubbing at her eyes. "That doesn't seem to stop anyone."

"In the boys' bathroom you're not even supposed to use the urinal next to another guy unless it's full," Alfie added. "She's paying way too much attention to who's in there with her."

Leilani smiled, looking genuinely pleased, but reminded him, "I know the rules for the boys' bathroom, Alfie."

"Oh, yeah," Alfie muttered, embarrassed.

Elliot had cried in class once during a particularly disastrous group project. A gym teacher had driven Amna to tears berating her for her 'low energy and disinterest in her health.' Kieran had gotten called out for hiding in a corner and dragged to the front of the classroom.

"Percy?" Cassia prompted, and Percy made a grumpy sound into his arm. But none of the others had been happy about sharing either, so he figured the least he could do was put up with it.

"My fifth grade teacher called me illiterate on my first day," Percy said flatly. He still hated that man. "He called me up to write his stupid lecture notes for him and apparently forgot that I'm severely fucking dyslexic, so like, obviously I couldn't do it. Final straw was when he told me to write 'classroom' and I spelled it with a K and two Us. Swear to god he was insulting me for ten minutes." It was one of the only times a teacher had berated him where the classroom had been dead silent instead of giggling.

"And what did you do?" Cassia asked gently. The whole session, she'd never looked surprised, or pitying, or angry; she maintained a careful, faintly sympathetic demeanor, like she'd heard it all before but it still made her sad.

Percy tried to remember. It was hard to call up anything past the man's tone of voice, the anger and scorn and mockery. "Uh, I think I dropped the marker and froze. I usually talk back, but I couldn't that time." He frowned, thinking harder. "Eventually he, I don't know, made a sudden movement, I guess. I thought he was going to hit me, so I blocked my face."

"You were scared?" Cassia prompted. Percy blinked, startled.

"Huh," he said. "I guess I was. Teachers insult me a lot, but it's usually just, like, a snide remark or something. They don't rant like that."

"And then what?"

"Uh, I think he stopped yelling at me after that," Percy said. "And he sent me to the office and that's where I cried." He frowned. "I don't remember what happened next. I didn't get expelled, though, 'cause I got expelled for something else and that was close to the end of the year."

"Percy," Cassia asked, soft, "why would you have gotten expelled?"

Percy cocked his head and frowned harder, then scowled, embarrassed. Gods, this sucked. "I guess I wouldn't have. I probably just assumed 'cause that's normally why I get sent to the principal."

"Dude," Jet said. "That's really fucked up."

Percy blinked, remembering abruptly that he was in group, and looked around. Jet was giving him an appraising look, and Alfie looked startled. Elliot was cringing, and Rose, who normally wore a flat expression, had a pinch in her brow.

"I was eleven," Percy said after a moment, scowling at his knees. "I should've known how to spell 'classroom.' I did know how to spell classroom, I was just panicking."

"Are you kidding?" Elliot said. "I'm not sure I could spell 'classroom' if I got called to the front on my first day of school. Gross."

"Also," Rose put in, "you definitely got sent to the office because throwing your arms up at sudden movement is like, the most obvious possible sign of physical abuse."

"Oh," Percy said, frowning. "Yeah, that should've been obvious in hindsight. I guess I just never thought about it."

"Teachers who call out students' mistakes in front of the class are kinda bullshit anyway," Amna said disdainfully. "What kind of sicko likes making kids cry like that? That guy shouldn't be a teacher."

"Yeah, it shouldn't have mattered if you were misspelling, I don't know, cat," Jet agreed. "He doesn't get paid to yell at kids for being dumb, you know? He's supposed to just fucking tell you how to spell classroom."

"Jet," Cassia pressed gently. Jet grimaced.

"Sorry, not dumb," Jet said. "For like, not knowing things."

Cassia smiled at Jet, and Percy shrugged, trying to smile too.

"Yeah," he agreed, voice coming out oddly soft. "But teachers never want to explain the basics."

There were a few sounds of agreement, and then, finally, they moved on. They finished going around the circle with the crying thing, and then played a couple more rounds of the sit-up game – who's gotten in trouble for lying when they were telling the truth? Who's felt excluded by a classroom activity? Who's felt singled out by a teacher?

Percy hated it, it was painful and arduous and seemed to go on forever. But there was a kind of comfort in the fact that no one else liked it either, and they were telling the same sorts of stories, and taking each other's sides. Usually the only one who backed Percy up against school staff was Sally, and more recently Paul.

It was a relief when they were finally released. Percy returned the abacus to the shelf, and none of them looked at each other as they filed out of the playroom. They relaxed once they were out of it, and a few of them struck up conversations. Percy couldn't remember where they were off to next, but of course everyone else did, so he just had to stick with them.

He remembered once they hit the path outside: after group was art, probably because it was a good way to wind down. The day before he'd spent most of the time poking around the room, looking at all the different mediums – acrylics and watercolor and pastels and charcoal. Percy wasn't a real artistic person, but art supplies were always fun to look at, and he'd even spent a little time watching the others. Leilani sat in a corner with an embroidery hoop, and Elliot stuck with colored pencils and a coloring book, and Rose just rubbed charcoal all over her hands and covered paper in handprints.

Percy went for the fingerpaints and some stupid-big sheets of paper, because he'd decided yesterday he liked the feeling of the paint on his hands, but then he ended up staring at the blank paper with a frown. Downsides of not being an artistic person: he had no idea what to make even when quality didn't matter.

The instructor, Lucas, noticed his plight before long and appeared to sit beside him. He was a soft-spoken man, the kind of gentle that was so delicate it made horses twitch – like he could touch a butterfly without hurting it, but was still afraid to.

"What are you thinking about, Percy?" Lucas asked.

"Nothing," Percy said, blue paint drying on his fingers. "My head doesn't make pictures, I guess."

"It doesn't come naturally to everyone," Lucas agreed sympathetically. "Did you make those beads on your necklace?"

Percy blinked, and then looked down at his camp necklace. He smiled a little and shook his head. "They're from my summer camp. One bead for every year. It's designed by volunteers, and they pick it out based on what happened that summer."

"Do you think you could try and do that?" Lucas prompted, smiling with kind eyes. "Imagine what design you could make for different events in your life."

Percy blinked, looked down again, and hummed. "Yeah, I guess."

The first one took him the rest of the block. Prompt or no prompt, Percy still wasn't a real artistic person, but at least now he had a direction to go. Eventually he made a picture for Paul and Sally's wedding: a blue wedding cake with a slice cut out of it, Paul and Sally holding hands at the front of an aisle, and Percy coming up the aisle with the little box that had their wedding rings. Paul, Sally, and Percy were all stick figures, and the whole thing was ugly as shit, but it pleased Percy to have put anything together at all. He set it out to dry, washed his hands, and filed out with the other kids.

After that they had down-time before dinner, so Percy vanished into a quiet room and called his mom again.

"Hey, Mom?" he asked, nearly as soon as she'd picked up. "How did you find out so much about how the Greek world worked?"

He could almost hear Sally blinking at him, startled and confused, but she rallied quick enough and answered him. "For the most part, I asked demigods whenever I got the chance. If I could get them to a safe point, well away from monsters, they were usually happy to stay and answer questions for an hour or two. And I asked your father, of course, when the time came."

"Huh," Percy said softly, and then clarified, "I got a chance to talk to the clearsighted kid. He's really, really scared of monsters, 'cause I guess no one explained to him that they don't go after mortals. It made me realize that clearsighted people don't have a summer camp."

"The poor dear," Sally said sympathetically. "You talked to him for a while?"

"Uh-huh. We had some time while we were doing garden stuff, so I introduced myself then. I told him about the gods for a while and I think it made him feel better."

"And what about you?" Sally asked, making Percy smile a little. His mom was always so worried about him.

"I felt good about it, I guess," Percy said. "It was more or less like calming down a new camper, and I do that all the time. Hell, it was easier, 'cause there was less bad news to break to him. It made me think about how much stuff you knew even when I was a kid though." He laughed. "I think the thing that freaked him out the most was when I mentioned that the gods argue about whether or not to let me live. It is kind of weird for the gods to have opinions about me." Sally was silent long enough for Percy's smile to falter. "Mom?"

"Nothing, dear," Sally said softly. "Did you meet your therapist today?"

"Yeah," Percy said, easily falling into the new line of conversation. "Her name's Raine and she's pretty okay. We walked in the vegetable patch instead of staying cooped up in her office. She asked me to tell her about my family and my friends and stuff." He considered for a moment. "She was pretty easy to talk to. I dunno why. I think because she never made me feel dumb. Even when I had to ask a stupid question or had trouble answering one of hers."

"That's wonderful," Sally said. "It sounds like it's going well."