"Dad's still trying to get me to come home and do therapy there," Annabeth said to Percy, fiddling with his bead necklace like she'd mixed it up with her own. "I don't get why he's so determined."

"He's probably worried about you, Wise Girl," Percy said gently, feeling for once perfectly content. He had his girlfriend in his arms, a blanket thrown over both of them, and Annabeth looked like there was nowhere she'd rather be. He could hear his mom and Paul talking quietly in the kitchen, and they'd muted the television to chat.

Annabeth huffed.

"If he's so worried about me, he should let me get therapy at the place actually set up for demigods," she muttered.

Percy frowned, because yeah, that was pretty sketchy. "Why isn't he?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "He says that most of my issues can be worked out with a normal, accredited therapist," she said, acid dripping from her voice. Percy pulled her a little closer, and it softened. "He keeps insisting that there's only a few things I really need a demigod therapist for, and the rest are just normal issues."

"Only a few things," Percy said wryly. "Like falling into hell."

"...Yeah." Annabeth huffed again, pressing into Percy as if for comfort and making him feel warm all over. "He doesn't get it, Percy. I don't know how to make him get it." She pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "He told me I could talk to him about that place." Percy winced. "I know! I... We don't get along, but I wouldn't do that to him, you know? But I don't know how to make him understand that. If I tried to explain that telling him would terrify him, I think he'd just give me that look."

Percy felt helpless. How could he make Annabeth feel better about how little her father understood? His own mom had always understood the Greek world better than he himself did. Hell, she understood him better than he himself did.

He pressed his forehead against hers. "You don't have to wait for his permission or anything," he reminded her. "He really loves you, he's not gonna draw the line over where you get your therapy. You can work things out with him afterward, right?"

"I'm tired of telling myself I'll work things out with him later," Annabeth confessed against his skin. He shivered, trying to listen past the distracting sensation. "Our lives are so fucked up that later never comes. And now that we're here?" Her grip on his nightshirt tightened, her fists clenching. "I can't even sit with him to feel better like you can with your mom. That's how bad our relationship is."

Percy tweaked her ear, making her scowl at him. He smiled at her.

"It's not great right now," he said, "but the reason he's fighting so hard to bring you back to California is so you can work it out, right? He wants to love you right. He just hasn't figured out how."

"He's had seventeen years," Annabeth said bitterly.

"Yeah," Percy said. "I think your dad might be even worse with feelings than you are."

Annabeth let out a startled laugh and pushed Percy playfully, looking up so he could see her eyes glitter with amusement. "Hey, I'm getting better. I have to, if I want to treat you right."

Percy didn't know why that made him melt, but it did, and he gave her a goofy, infatuated smile. "Yeah, you are," he said quietly.

Her smile softened a little, and they both fell silent. The television kept playing uncaptioned, some romantic comedy Percy didn't recognize, with the main couple playfully bantering back and forth over dinner.

"Are you doing any better than you were?" Annabeth asked at last, pulling back enough to study him with sharp eyes that glinted in the dim light.

Percy groaned playfully, nudging his temple against hers. "You ask me that every time you come to visit."

"I have to," Annabeth said, with enough flat sincerity to knock the breath from Percy's lungs. "I'd never be able to tell otherwise. Stop deflecting." A second's awkward silence passed, and Annabeth exhaled, settling closer to him again. "All I know is that you're not okay, Percy. I... I have to know how you're doing. You get that, right?"

Their breath was out of sync, Percy noticed.

"Yeah," he admitted, soft and grateful. "I'm doing better, kind of. Raine helped me get started on figuring out ways to comfort myself, or ask people to stay with me. I'm, I'm trying to work on that, and I'm getting better at it." He drew on her shoulder with his thumb. "She said that it was a really big step, telling you that I was struggling on the Argo."

"It was," Annabeth said without hesitation, nudging against him with an uncharacteristically soft look. "I was honestly sort of proud of you. I don't think I'd ever seen you ask for attention like that until then." She read his expression easily and rolled her eyes. "Not like that, Seaweed Brain. I mean that normally you'd sooner set yourself on fire than ask someone to make time for you."

Percy relaxed. "It took a while to convince myself," he admitted. "But I guess last year wasn't completely for nothing."

"Of course it wasn't," Annabeth said. "Do you realize how much better I understand you because of last year?"

Percy smiled at her, goofy and soft, and both of them fell silent for a minute, listening to Paul and Sally chat in the other room.

"Did you and Grover come to an agreement about the empathy link?" Annabeth asked after a while.

Percy snickered, feeling only a little bad. "More or less," he said. "He wasn't thrilled about it, said that me feeling so bad was more reason to repair it, but he gave in eventually. Thanks for backing me up."

"Course," Annabeth said. "I don't want Grover dreaming of Tartarus any more than you do." She shivered, and Percy tugged her closer.

"Anyway, we decided he'd repair the empathy link once the Tartarus nightmares died down a bit and I stopped, you know, openly daydreaming about hurting myself." He tapped her arm. "I wanted to hold out until after I finished my round at St. Joan's again, but he wasn't having it."

"I'm impressed with Grover's negotiation skills," Annabeth said, and Percy laughed, rubbing his cheek sheepishly.

"Yeah. Me too, honestly. I think that's the most intense argument we've ever had."

"Not shocked," Annabeth said. "Grover cares about you a lot, you know. He was as messed up as I was when you disappeared. And if you apologize for that, I'll bite you."

Percy hid his mouth against her hair and snickered. "What if I do it because you'll bite me?"

Annabeth bit him.

Percy heard the door opening, but he couldn't stop himself from heaving again, coughing up what felt like his stomach and his lungs and maybe some of his intestines too. His mom paused in the doorway, and then padded over to kneel beside him. He leaned on the toilet and wheezed, and Sally pushed his hair away from his face.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the doctor again, sweetheart?" Sally asked softly. "It's been over a month, and you're still in here almost every night."

Percy groaned, tipping over so he could cuddle against her without moving too far from the toilet bowl. "They're just gonna tell me to drink ginger ale again," he mumbled. He was still trembling from his nightmare, tears streaking down his cheeks. He hoped his mom didn't notice.

Sally stroked his hair soothingly. "We can still try. There have to be stronger anti-nausea medications at the pharmacy."

Percy grumbled in displeasure, then gagged, braced himself on the bowl, and retched again, then heaved. When it was over, he crossed his arms on the toilet bowl and laid down, exhausted.

"Do you want some ginger ale?" Sally asked him.

"...Yeah."

He wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet while she was gone, relatively sure he was done for the night. He didn't try to stand up, not sure his legs would take his weight, so he closed the toilet lid and laid on that instead, pressing his cheek on the cool porcelain. He accepted the cold can when Sally nudged it against his arm, and swallowed half of it down in a few gulps. It wouldn't keep him from throwing up, but it helped settle his stomach afterward and washed away the taste of bile.

"Thanks," he mumbled, shifting to huddle into her warmth. She moved to accommodate him, an arm curling protectively around him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.

Tonight it had been complete nonsense – Bacchus and Calypso and Bob and Bianca and others, throwing a party around him while the water of the Underworld rivers dripped on him from stalactites, sizzling wherever it struck his skin. "No."

She accepted that easily, and let him lay his head on her shoulder and nurse the can of ginger ale, soaking in the quiet.

"Did you get some sleep tonight?" she asked after a while.

"W'time is it?"

"Just past two in the morning."

"Oh. Sorry I woke you up." He took another sip. He was getting kind of sick of ginger ale. There were flavors, right? Ginger and lemon or something? "Anyway, that's... 'bout three hours, I think. 'S not too bad." He wanted about thirty, but that just wasn't happening.

"Better than nothing," she agreed softly, finger-combing his hair again. "Are you ready to get up?"

Percy grunted. "Yeah. I'm gonna grab some crackers from the kitchen. Maybe lay on the couch and put a movie on."

"Do you want company?"

Percy considered, then reluctantly pushed himself upright. "Yeah, but you can go back to sleep if you want."

"I can sleep on the couch," Sally said, standing to help him up after her. "What do you want to watch tonight?"

"Fast and Furious," Percy decided. "Maybe the others too?"

"I'm sure you'll have time," Sally said ruefully, kissing him on the cheek.

Sally went ahead, and by the time Percy caught up, the lights were all on. He tossed his ginger ale in the bin and grabbed a sleeve of crackers, then slumped across the couch so his head was in Sally's lap.

"Stomach all settled, or should I get a bowl?" Sally asked him.

"I'm good," he mumbled. He relaxed as she started the movie, the opening sequence settling something inside him. He could smell sugar and paper on his mom, and her hands were in his hair again.

It was nice, insofar as he could feel nice after the nightmares he had.

He was almost halfway through the sleeve of crackers before either of them spoke.

"Do you feel better?" Sally asked. Percy craned his neck to look at her.

"Uhn? Yeah, why?"

Sally smiled. Percy was surprised to realize it looked painful with self-recrimination. "There's so little I can do for you," she said, scratching his scalp lightly. "I wonder sometimes if I'm helping at all."

Percy laughed a little, surprised and warm, and reached over to pause the movie.

"Mom, I woke up crying and throwing up," he said. "If it had been up to me, I probably would've gone back to bed and laid there feeling sorry for myself all night." He nudged against her stomach. "I don't feel good, I mean, I'm sore and tired and I don't want to go back to sleep. But I'm not nauseous, I'm not daydreaming about hurting myself, and I'm mostly thinking about how nice it is to cuddle with you. That's great."

Sally laughed too, soft and musical, and he caught a glimmer of tears in her eyes before she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. "Thank you, sweetheart. That means the world to me."

Percy grinned at her and relaxed again. He grabbed the remote to play again, but hesitated.

"Hey," he said after a moment. "How's Paul doing with, you know, all of this? I know that after Kronos he still mostly just thought it was kind of neat." Mostly because Percy hadn't talked much about the dead campers at home, and while his mom had known about the writing on the wall, Paul hadn't.

Sally sighed, grabbed his free hand, and rubbed the palm with her thumb.

"He's terrified for you," she said. "When you came home, I almost thought he was going to stand guard outside your door with one of his Shakespearean swords." Percy laughed at the mental image, and Sally smiled wearily. "He cried too, you know, when you left that message. He was losing hope before I was, I think."

Percy tried to picture it. It was... easier than he'd thought it would be, imagining Paul being shaken and harried and anxious because Percy had been gone for two months, three months, four. A regular mortal caught in the sidewind of Percy's life.

"I missed him too," Percy said, softer than he'd intended.

Percy scrunched up his nose. "Happy place?"

"Safe place," Raine corrected. "It might not necessarily be where you've felt happiest. You're looking for a place that is comfortable and safe – preferably someplace you have never been afraid. Maybe somewhere you went with your mother, or where you played as a child."

Percy leaned back and frowned, clasping his hands around his knees as he thought about it. He remembered the bathroom in their old apartment, the fire escape where he played with a neighbor's cat, the park he and his mom used to visit... but the best answer, once it occurred to him, was obvious.

"Montauk," he said. "That's my safe place."

Raine smiled at him. "Of course, that's perfect. Now, what we want to do is construct a vivid image of Montauk that you can escape to. We want that image to be as immersive as possible. Are you ready?"

"I'm always ready to go to Montauk," Percy told her.

"Close your eyes," Raine instructed. "and think of your favorite place in Montauk. What do you see?"

Percy closed his eyes. "A campfire pit. A log in the sand. A fire, with smoke and embers and stuff. Waves and seafoam, wet sand. A pile of seashells at my feet, a bag of blue candy next to me. Footprints in the sand. Nereids watching and waving from the ocean. Our cabin to the left, the road out leading behind me. Starry sky. I... think that's it, yeah."

"Beautiful," Raine said warmly. "Hold that in your mind. What can you feel?"

"Wind," Percy said, starting to feel dreamy. "Heat from the fire, smoke stinging my eyes. Sand between my fingers and toes, and in my hair and my mouth and stuff. Cold, salty water. That's... yeah."

"Good. What can you hear?"

"Waves and seagulls. My mom's voice. The crackle of the campfire. The wind, sand blowing over sand. The highway down the road."

"What can you smell?"

"Saltwater and seaweed. Campfire smoke, burnt marshmallow. Fish eggs."

"What can you taste?"

"Salty air, seawater, s'mores, popcorn, gummies."

"What can you see?"

Raine took Percy through the exercise twice more, enhancing his already vivid mental image of Montauk. By the end of it, Percy felt more relaxed than he had since waking up at the Wolf House.

"Okay," Raine murmured. "How do you feel?"

"...Good," Percy said softly. "I feel really good."

"That's great, that's what we want," Raine encouraged. "Can you tell me how you slept last night? Did you have any nightmares?"

Percy tensed, opening his eyes to frown at her reproachfully. "Yeah. Only slept for about an hour, woke up thinking of Nyx's children. Never got back to sleep. Why?"

"How are you feeling?" Raine asked instead of answering.

"Uncomfortable. Starting to get nervous. What about it?"

"Now go back to Montauk."

"Oh." Starting to understand, Percy leaned back and closed his eyes. He brought back the vivid memory of Montauk, campfire and seashells, wind and crashing waves, blue candy and s'mores.

"What do you see?"

"The campfire pit, the smoke and fire, the wet sand and waves and seafoam. The log Mom and I sit on, another on the other side. Footprints in the sand, the cabin to my left, the road leading behind me. A pile of seashells at my feet, Nereids in the water, a bag of candy next to me. Constellations."

Raine ran him through the exercise again, and then asked, "Can you tell me about Nyx's children? I'm not familiar."

Percy tensed again, but he was expecting it this time, and he kept his eyes closed. "She has a lot of them. Misery, old age, the Fates, death, strife, curses. Everything horrible and scary in the world. When Annabeth and I ran into her, she summoned all of them to prove her newsworthiness."

His fists clenched and unclenched.

"How are you feeling?"

"Don't like it," Percy muttered. His fists clenched and unclenched again. "I'm nervous. I want to open my eyes."

"Now return to Montauk."

Breath in, breath out. Campfire and smoke, constellations in the sky, seafoam rolling across the waves, sand between his toes and in his mouth. "Okay. I'm there."

"How do you feel?"

"Better. Not good, but... better. Calm."

"What do you see?"

"Constellations, seafoam rolling across the ocean and onto the sand, campfire pit with smoke and charcoal, the cabin to my left..."

Raine ran him through again, and then asked, "Do you think you can get here on your own?"

"I... Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"When you're upset?"

"Maybe?"

"Think of a word or phrase to tie it to, like a password or launch code. Something that makes you think of Montauk already."

"Blue food?"

"Say it again, and then describe Montauk for me."

Percy did. "Is that really it?"

"More or less," Raine said. "I'd like you to practice, of course. You might not be able to use that headspace to shield you from your worst symptoms, at least not at first. Using it when you're more moderately upset will make it more familiar to you, which should make finding it easier."

Sometimes Raine used as many words as Annabeth to explain herself. "So I need to get good at it," he clarified, and she nodded. "Okay, I guess I can do that. Will it, um, will it help with..." Raine gestured encouragingly. "Uh, sometimes I start thinking about Tartarus, and then I get stuck there."

"Can you explain a little more?"

Percy glanced down and tugged at the hem of his jeans. "It's... it's not a flashback, exactly, because I remember where I am and stuff. But it's like I stop paying attention. I'll be, I dunno, helping Mom with the grocery shopping, and still going and getting stuff she asks me to and whatever, but I'm thinking about Tartarus. Mom, um, Mom says she doesn't even notice anything is happening until she realizes I haven't said anything more complicated than 'yeah' or 'no' in a while."

"Is she able to break you out of it?" Raine asked with concern. Percy winced.

"Kinda," he said. "She can get my attention, but it's, um, it's really hard to hold a conversation like that, and in some ways it's even scarier, because then I realize that I can't stop thinking about Tartarus, and I feel trapped, and I panic." He grabbed Riptide and spun it in his fingers. "It's only happened a couple times. Mom's been able to find me a good distraction every time, but she has to drop everything and take me home."

Raine's expression softened. "If you can reach it, it will help with that," she confirmed gently. "It should help shield you from your darker thoughts, even your shoulder devil, if you need. If you're preoccupied with holding that image of Montauk, you won't have as much attention for your worries." She paused, and then added, "You might consider telling your mother about this exercise, and she can take you somewhere quiet and help you find it."

Percy considered that, and then nodded firmly. "Mom will like that," he said on impulse. "I... think she feels kind of helpless in all of this. It's hard on her."

"Of course," Raine agreed. "Any loving mother goes through her own hardship when her child suffers, and Sally loves you very much. But that is the risk we face when we love. You've gone through more than enough to understand that, I think."

Percy had never thought of it that way, but he instinctively cast his mind to Camp Half-Blood, and he understood.