Percy stopped being an only child the spring after he turned fourteen.

At least, that's when they made it official. He remembers waking up extra early one morning - without complaint, for once - and sitting in his bed bemusedly as he watched Jules spend an hour stressing over which pair of tights to wear underneath the dress she'd selected. She'd been practically out of her mind trying to decide, pacing around the room like her hair was on fire. As if choosing the wrong pair would somehow make his mom change her mind about the whole thing and decide to take her back to camp after all.

Obviously, she hadn't. The three of them walked out of that courthouse in Queens a legal family unit, and later that night, Percy pretended to be asleep when Jules crept out of her bed to unpack the suitcase she'd hidden in the back of their closet.

He remembers finding her nervousness about the situation to be silly. He and his mom had really considered the whole 'adoption' thing more of a formality than an actual change. Just something that would make their lives easier when Jules needed to be picked up from school or taken to a doctor or something. To them, she'd been a Jackson in all but name since about the second week she'd spent living at their place. But, Jules had been stressed about it. Scared. Really scared. And, Percy had never understood why.

He thinks he might get it now.

Change is terrifying.

Tapping his foot nervously on the white tiles of the hospital waiting room, Percy does his very best not to throw up all over himself.

He's used to having problems he can fight away with a sword. Unfortunately, he can't stab labor contractions with Celestial Bronze. So, instead, he's tapping his foot in the waiting room and chewing his nails into nubs and deciding that he much prefers deadly fights with primordials to staring at the baby toys in the middle of the maternity wing while he waits for his mother to finish screaming her head off somewhere down the hall.

She'd offered for him to be in the room with her. Percy had...He'd taken a step away and politely declined. She'd looked sad when he'd done so, and that had almost been enough to make him drop all of his insecurities just to be there to hold his mom's hand through the pain of bringing another life into this fucked up world. After everything she's gone through with him, it would be the least he could do in return.

Maybe fourteen year old Percy could have handled that. Could have been her rock in exchange for once. But, eighteen year old Percy is clutching the pen in his pocket for dear life and apologizing over and over again to Hera for every comment he's ever made that offended her. He's praying to Artemis to take a breather from watching over Apollo's trials to make sure Percy's mom is okay.

He feels like a bit of a wuss, sitting here on the verge of a panic attack over something he's been expecting for almost six months now. Even excited about.

Percy's never been rational when it comes to seeing his family in pain, though. And...he never expected to be sitting here alone.

The thought makes him let out a strangled breath and rake his hands through his already messed up hair. Percy's eyes find a family on the other side of the waiting room. They must be here for the same reason Percy is, but they look a whole lot less nauseous about it. An older couple he assumes to be the grandparents are holding a bundle of pink balloons and smiling as they watch a brown haired middle school kid pester the little girl beside him. The boy keeps poking his sister in the ribs, grinning and hiding his hand behind his back every time she turns around to scowl at him. The girl is complaining loudly and slapping at him, but she's failing to fight down the grin on her face that her brother keeps glancing at with pride.

Percy knows that feeling. He wishes Juliette were here right now. If he could pester her into a smile, all of this might feel just a little bit more manageable.

Gods, this is not how he was expecting to be spending tonight. He and Annabeth were going to meet for a movie later and-oh, shit, he should find a way to call her. She's going to be waiting around on him to turn up at her dorm. When he doesn't show, she'll probably think he's been attacked again or kidnapped or-

"Mr. Jackson?"

Percy stands so quickly his chair makes an embarrassing scraping noise. The silver haired nurse smiles at him and waves him over. Percy clears the whole waiting room in two enormous steps, still feeling like he's about to blow chunks. "Is she-"

"She's doing great," The nurse smiles. "Eight pounds, three ounces. Getting back from her first bath right-"

"No, my mom," He interrupts frantically. His hands are shaking. He grips Riptide harder and tries not to cry. "My mom, is she-"

"She's great too," The woman assures him gently. She places a hand on Percy's shoulder and smiles. "She's a tough lady. She did wonderfully."

Percy nearly falls over. He lets his lungs fully inflate for the first time in hours and nods. "Right. Good. Good, yeah. That's good."

The nurse chuckles. She jerks her head towards the hallway. "Let's go meet your sister, shall we?"

His sister. The baby. It's here. In that room. Okay. Yeah, okay. Yeah.

Percy follows the nurse down to his mom's hospital room, heart still beating like he's facing down the Minotaur in a stormy, remote field in Long Island.

Gods, he thought he was prepared for this. Like, it's been months since his mom told him this was happening. He's spent the last year so excited. Not just for him, but for his mom and Paul. He knows what a relief this must be for them.

A mortal kid. A normal kid.

One who won't spend years flunking out of every school. One who won't disappear for months at a time with no trace except a minute long voicemail Sally is still too scared to delete. One who won't come home missing a limb just to skip town months later without even saying goodbye.

He knows his parents love him. He knows because he still loves Jules even while he wants to strangle her for ditching him to face this all alone. But, still...

He knows it'll be much easier to love this baby than it was to love them. And, Percy is trying to find a way to sort through his feelings about that before he meets this kid in person for the first time.

It seems that the time for that is up, though, because they've reached his mom's room, and he's being waved to walk inside.

Percy feels like he's stepping back into Tartarus. All of his battle senses are on high alert as he passes the nurses by the door and pulls back the papery blue curtains.

Seeing his mom, smiling and beautiful with her hair a bit tangled and pulled over one shoulder as she peers down at the little bundle in her arms...It's like finally coming up for breath after a lifetime treading water. She and Paul are huddled close together, holding Percy's baby sister between them and giggling like they're teenagers again. They look tired. Exhausted, really. But, happy.

And, they light up even more when they notice him by the curtains.

"Percy!" His mom gasps happily. She transfers the bundle to Paul so she can reach out for him with both hands.

Something about that action makes a stiff wedge crumble to soft sand in Percy's chest. He lets his shoulders finally fall and rushes to cling to his mother's arms. She sighs contentedly into his hair, and he lets her vanilla and sea salt smell relax the remaining worry out of his system.

"Are you okay?" He mumbles into her shoulder, just to be sure.

She laughs and presses a kiss into the top of his head. "Well, that certainly wasn't any more fun than it was the first time. But, yeah, baby. I'm good. Thank you for asking."

"She was amazing," Paul adds warmly. Percy looks up in time to watch his mom slap gently at his stepdad's arm, smiling.

"Oh, please. I think I might have fractured Paul's hand. I got a little carried away during the last of those contractions."

Paul grins at Percy. "I think it's possible you didn't get all your super-strength from Poseidon after all. She has a hell of a grip."

A laugh chokes out of Percy at that. His eyes float down to the bundle in Paul's arms, and he feels his chest tighten up once again. His mom slides a hand into his, and she squeezes it one, two, three times.

The message meant behind that helps a little, but he still can't help but freeze when Paul turns to him with a smile and asks "Do you want to meet her?"

Percy stares at the blankets his stepfather is holding.

Paul's hair is still salt and pepper patterned. His trimmed beard his still turning more grey by the day. He still has wrinkles by his eyes that deepen when he smiles and still wears his shirts buttoned all the way to the top like he's (in Jules' words) an old British man on his way to play golf with the lads. But, as he stares down at his new daughter...his...real daughter...Paul looks young again.

And, Percy's hands are back to trembling.

Three squeezes to his right one again, and then his mom is reaching out for the bundle, and Percy's really glad there's a defibrillator close by for when his heart decides it's had enough adrenaline for one lifetime.

This is so dumb. He hasn't been an only child since he was fourteen. Since before that, honestly. Percy has had years of practice older brother-ing, and there's every reason to believe that that job is going to be way easier with this kid than it ever was with Jules.

With this kid, Percy's main job will be scaring away gross boys, not tending to stab wounds on a ten year old who jolts with fear every time he moves too quickly.

He'll be driving this kid to soccer practice, not charging off back into a deadly Labyrinth 'cause she got it into her head that it was her turn to save him, and if she died, it would be entirely Percy's fault.

His days will be spent doing arts and crafts, having tea parties, sneaking her into R-rated movies, and failing at helping with math homework instead of sitting by her bedside, clutching her cold fingers, and praying to every deity in every pantheon that she'll wake up, because he can't do this life - and everything in it - without her.

Percy hasn't been an only child since he was fourteen, and that fact is so obvious by just how left out to sea he feels not having Jules by his side right now.

She should be here for this.

He wants her to be.

"Her name is Estelle," His mom says softly. Percy stares at her warm blue eyes, too scared to look down at the bundle she's holding out. "Estelle Juliette Blofis."

The breath he was taking in gets caught in his throat.

Is she serious?

From the mischievous sparkle in her eye, Percy thinks for half a second she might be joking. But, his mom doesn't correct herself, and Paul doesn't laugh. They both just smile at him, and Percy's eyebrows creep further and further up his forehead.

"We wanted her to be here," Paul says quietly. He shrugs and places a hand on his wife's shoulder, thumb rubbing comforting circles into the sleeve of her hospital gown. "We thought it might be a nice way to include her. Since she's..."

Not.

Percy can't help but laugh a little. Breathlessly. He's surprised, but...Also isn't.

His mom has always had a thing about names. 'Names have power,' and all that.

She told him once that he became Perseus out of her hope that he'd have a chance at a happy ending. Naming Estelle after Jules...It feels like a wish. A wish that, maybe, Percy's first little sister, whatever she and Jason are doing right now, is going to make it back home without a scratch.

"Do you want to meet her?" His mom asks him again.

This time, Percy has the courage to return her warm smile and nod.

When he looks down at his newborn baby sister, the first thing he thinks is that she looks like a squished cherry jellybean.

His second thought is how silly he was for ever thinking his parents might love him less once Estelle came into the world. Because the feeling he's getting right now - the water balloon full of happiness, comfort, and protectiveness that's inflating in his heart...It's no different from the way he loves Juliette.

Now, he just needs her to get home already. Because Percy's looking forward to seeing this kid stress her out the way she's been stressing out Percy since the day they first met on that ship and she became his family.

Julie wakes up upside down.

There's a hand across the back of her knees. She's being shuffled along down a hallway. A blue and gold hallway. And drops of purple are falling from her forehead to sizzle against the concrete floor.

The shoulder she's draped over is digging into the wound on her stomach. Julie can't help the little sound of discomfort she lets out when Lit shifts her to the side to reach for his keyring.

The sound makes the boy freeze. Julie watches his hand hover over his pocket, trembling.

The last hour starts coming back to her. The sphynxes. Commodus. Apollo. The prisoners she freed. Getting her butt completely whooped by Lityerses.

Said butt-whooper takes a deep breath and continues his reach for his keys. Juliette panics and finds her voice.

"Wait," She gasps.

He pauses again.

Julie doesn't know why, but...Gods, her decision seemed so easy at the time, but...

Now that it's done, now that she's actually been left behind, now that...

Shit.

She...she didn't expect to be this scared. She's honestly confused by it. She didn't think-

...Oh.

It's not her fear she's feeling. It's his.

Lityerses is terrified. So terrified, the heavy stink of it is hanging like a fog through this entire hallway around them. He's shaking from his fingers to his legs, and it might be the most unnerving thing Juliette has ever experienced.

"You have no idea how fucked you are," Lit breathes out. She feels his hand tighten on her leg.

Juliette swallows thickly and watches smoke rise from the place her blood is dripping onto the floor.

"Why work for him?" She whispers.

He stands totally still. "It's a-"

"Not Commodus," Julie corrects, limp over his shoulder. "Midas."

Her...friend - yeah...she thinks he's her friend after all. Even if he just beat the shit out of her - is silent for a moment.

"He was my dad," He replies, and the way his voice cracks on the word shatters something in Juliette's heart. "I wanted-..." Lit shakes his head.

Julie stares at the Nebraska logo on his back. Their first fight feels like it was decades ago. At the time, Julie had been in over her head trying to juggle Khione's blackmail, Jason's amnesia, and having just lost Festus all while wondering if Percy was off dead in a ditch somewhere. Even with all of that on her back, though, she remembers noticing the disdain on Midas' face whenever he looked at his son.

Maybe it hadn't meant all that much to her at the time, since they were enemies, but...

Now, she doesn't think that's quite what they are. Especially because Juliette knows what it's like to be looked at that way. And, she knows what it's like to lose yourself in the attempt to find someone who will look at you differently.

"Didn't you already die for somebody once?" She asks, voice strained. She feels his grip tighten on her calf. Feels his head bow and a long breath leave his nose.

"I died because I tried to rob Hercules," He mutters bitterly.

"For your dad, right?"

Lit doesn't answer her. Julie pushes down the pain in her abdomen so she can lift herself up enough on his shoulder to look around at him. She can only see the back of his head, but...This time, the red bandana in his hair does remind her of Clarisse. And, the thought of the way she'd watched the unbreakable daughter of Ares fall apart over Silena's body sends an urgency through her. She doesn't want to see Lityerses break.

Her shuffling prompts him to put her down. Lit lowers her to the ground in front of him with surprising gentleness, and, when she stumbles, his hands dart out to steady her. They land on the Tiberii donum on her arms. Probably by accident by the way his face spasms.

Looking like he's going to be sick, Lityerses slowly removes his hands from her golden shackles. He stares at them. For a long time. Long enough that Julie is certain her secret hasn't been kept quite as well as she'd thought. And yet, he doesn't say anything out loud to confirm that he knows.

Finally, he pulls his gaze away and clears his throat. Juliette offers him a weak smile.

"Hercules is an ass."

He laughs. He nods.

"Yeah."

The both of them look to the door they're standing beside. Julie takes a deep breath and nods to it. "Where are we?"

Lit grits his teeth. "Throne room," He answers shortly.

She sighs and nods again. "Cool. Or, as the kids would say, lit."

He suddenly looks a lot less hesitant about leading her to a vengeful emperor.

Juliette laughs and offers him her elbow. "Shall we?"

Hand raking over his eyes, Lityerses lets out a tired little chuckle. Then, he nods, clasps her upper arm like he's been dragging her along, and unlocks the throne room doors.

When Lit was a kid, he had a crush on one of his older sister's lady's maids.

He doesn't remember a whole lot about her now. Just that her name was Aramida, and her hair was the color of wheat. And that she liked to sing.

She sang a lot. It was one of the reasons his father selected her to follow Zoe around in the first place. Whenever she attended feasts that Lityerses would manage to sneak into the back of, she would always perform a song for whatever visiting nobles were sharing their table.

The sound of her voice was like honey on cream. An indulgence that Lit would steal moments of for himself in secret only on special occasions.

And, only when his father wasn't looking.

As an illegitimate son, Lityerses was lucky to be allowed to grow up at all, let alone grow up safe and fed in his father's palace. His sister was the queen's by birth. Zoe was allowed all the comforts of a princess and was recognized as his father's sole heir. Lit would be seen by his father only when there was something to be discussed. His education. His training. His future prospects for marriage as an unrecognized bastard.

Those conversations were short and to the point, and then Lityerses would be sent right back to his quarters. It was that way his whole life growing up. Until he turned fourteen, and he killed his first man.

It had been an attack on the road. Lit was accompanying his family on a trip for once, sitting on the back of the carriage as their horses pulled them towards Athens for a meeting with some king he's long forgotten the name of. There had been bandits on the path.

And then, there had been pieces of bandits on the path.

Lit always knew he was good with a sword. It had sort of escaped his father's attention, but he had the combat training of a prince and the skill of a soldier. The speed of a demigod, and the instincts of a boy who grew up peeking around corners before sneaking honey and cream. That first man hadn't made it two steps towards Lityerses' father before Lit's shining, undented blade was buried in his intestines.

He remembers watching the light leave the man's eyes. Watching the surprised expression go slack from his face. Watching the rest of the bandits take nervous steps backwards as Lityerses looked up at them as well, and a droning, focused buzzing began to hum in his ears.

It was there on that road to Athens, surrounded by the bodies and spilled blood of fifteen men he'd never met, that Lit was hugged by King Midas for the first time.

After that, he wasn't sneaking honey and cream anymore. It was served to him in a gilded dish by his father's servants. He wasn't standing behind a pillar, crouching low so no one would see him leaning in to listen to Aramida's nectar-sweet voice. He was sitting only steps in front of her, free to watch the way her mouth formed the words as she sang not just in front of him, but to him.

And, to keep that new life - that new love his father claimed to feel for Lityerses - all he had to do was keep killing.

So, his trap in the maize was born, and Lityerses earned for himself the title 'Reaper of Men.'

He won't pretend he didn't enjoy killing his victims. He did. There was something satisfying about being stronger than the men who would approach him so confidently and accept his harvesting challenge. It was like Lit was finally being recognized after a lifetime in the shadows. Finally making a dent in a world that had shut him out alone for so long. So, more and more travelers would stumble upon him in his father's fields, and more and more riches were added to Midas' stores from the bodies of the men Lit murdered in his name.

Lit sat at his father's table. At his father's side. And, Aramida finally noticed him.

Their romance had been short lived. A whirlwind of passion simply driven by hormones and the excitement of young love. It hadn't been long before Lityerses ended up looking down at where the wheat-haired girl was sleeping on his chest and realizing he found himself bored of honey and cream.

He'd gotten a taste for blood. For iron. For gold. For sweat and for suffering.

And, the girl on his chest would never be able to replace that thrill.

The look on Aramida's face when he'd told her that played a painful role in Lityerses' tortures in the Fields of Punishment - after he'd raised the wrong challenge to the wrong person and finally gotten what he'd known all along was coming to him. After Gaea resurrected him through the Doors of Death, Lit spent a while thinking over why that might have been. He doesn't remember being particularly heartbroken when he'd ended things with his childhood love. He doesn't even particularly miss her.

It had seemed strange to him that, out of all the terrible experiences of Lit's youth, Hades had chosen honey and cream for his eternal punishment.

Now, he's starting to realize that only the sweet things in life can be used to measure a man's bitterness. How he treats them. How he cherishes them or burns them to char in the blazing hearth of his own self interest. How he holds a sword in their defense or watches passively as they writhe in pain at an emperor's feet.

Lit's only eighteen. Even by the modern world's standards, he's barely a man.

He's never felt like less of one than he does right now.

Lityerses digs his fingernails into his forearm behind his back as he watches Commodus flick his hand again and the Tiberii donum light up red against the blistered skin on his friend's twitching arm. She screams, and Lit swallows down the taste of blood as he bites through the inside of his cheek and tries to keep from screaming with her.

Honey and cream.

Yeah, right.

The sound of this girl's voice is vitriol and carrion.