Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For about a month, Percy managed to hold it together. He had to – he needed to help repair the camp, and communicate with the Romans, and bury the dead. He had to comfort the younger campers and reassure the older ones. Percy stayed at camp for almost two weeks past the official end of summer term, doing everything he could to help the kids feel safe again, before Chiron firmly urged him to go home.

Truthfully, Percy was glad for the excuse to go. He was tired. He was stressed and upset. He wanted his mom. He didn’t want the campers to feel abandoned, not after everything, but he was so homesick that he ached. When he felt his parents hug him, the warmth and comfort of their arms drove him to tears.

It was halfway through September by the time he finally got to speak to Raine.

“O Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Raine Robins at St. Joan’s.”

Percy kind of liked being able to do his therapy cross-legged on his bed, using the rainbow from a prism on his windowsill. It was nice, or at least, it had been for the two sessions he’d managed to fit in before Hera whisked him away.

Raine’s office shimmered into view, resolving into an image of Raine flipping through her old notebook for him, frowning in concentration. Looked exactly like she had the last time he saw her, except with maybe a couple new pictures on her desk.

“Hey, Raine,” he said, smiling wearily when she jumped and looked up, eyes bright behind horn-framed glasses. “Sorry I missed our last appointment.”

It was a weak joke. Their last appointment had been scheduled nearly a year ago now, and instead of Percy, Raine had gotten a call from Annabeth, demanding to know if Percy had said anything worrying lately.

“Percy,” Raine said, with so much relief that Percy was touched. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get back to you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” Percy said, managing another small smile. “Your job is probably really stressful, right? Makes sense that you take regular vacations. I hope it didn’t bother you when Mom made the appointment. I didn’t know you were on leave when I asked.”

“Not at all, I was relieved to hear you were home safe,” Raine said firmly. “Can you tell me what happened? Your mother said that you were struggling.”

‘Struggling’ was certainly one way of putting it. ‘Drowning’ might be more accurate, though.

“Yeah, uh...” Percy reached up to rub his hand over his face, grimacing. “Hera kidnapped me and wiped my memories, and I swapped places with this kid Jason from another demigod camp, Camp Jupiter. Romans. Then, um, I had to go on a quest up to Alaska to unchain Thanatos, and then back to Camp Jupiter to stop Polybotes from destroying it. Then the Seven, I’ll explain that prophecy later, but seven demigods Hera picked had to get in this flying ship and go to close the Doors of Death and defeat Gaea.” He took a deep breath. “We had to go to Rome for that, I guess, to get the Athena Parthenos. And the ancient lands are extra full of monsters, worse than the Sea of Monsters. So that was really hard. And then, um...”

He swallowed. His lungs were starting to strain from the long rambling speech, but there was no helping that.

“Gods, sorry, this just goes on and on. But then me and Annabeth fell into Tartarus, and it, it took a bit to get back out. That was awful. Then...” He rolled his shoulders and ignored the sting in his eyes. “Then we had to go to Athens to fight the giants and stop Gaea from rising. We kind of stalled them until Reyna and Nico got the Athena Parthenos in place and healed the gods, and we beat the giants, and Zeus sent us back to Camp Half-Blood to fight Gaea. And we won.” He covered his face. “Sorry, that was a lot, you probably missed most of that nonsense. Doesn’t make any sense...”

“It’s alright, I caught most of it,” Raine said gently. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot recently. That’s not your fault, and we can get to everything in time. Can you tell me what you’re having trouble with right now?”

Percy ruffled his hair and smiled, like that would hide the exhaustion in his eyes or the pain weighing down his shoulders. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m, um, I’m having trouble sleeping. Wicked bad nightmares, even for me, but a lot of the time I don’t even get that far. The weirdest mood swings, too, starting to cry out of nowhere or getting angry for no reason.” He rustled his hair again, exhaling heavily. “Uh, I’ve been thinking about hurting myself a lot, like, I’m literally daydreaming about it, it’s weird and annoying.” His voice caught. He pretended he didn’t notice. “I’m suicidal again, I’m having flashbacks to Tartarus, I’m, I’m vomiting when I get stressed...”

His voice caught and hitched again, and he ducked his head and leaned over, trying to hide the tears suddenly welling up in his eyes. They came too fast for that to really work – his breath stuttered, and he reached up to rub the tears away as they spilled down his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, voice cracking. “Sorry, it’s just- it’s been a really bad summer. I feel horrible.”

“It’s alright,” Raine said, dropping into a soothing, gentle cadence. “You’re going to be alright. I can see you’re in a lot of pain right now, and you have every right to cry if you want to. Don’t worry about that. Breathe. You’re going to be fine.”

Percy breathed, slow and careful, trying to ignore the hitches and stutters that kept interrupting. After a while, the urge to sob subsided, and he was able to wipe his eyes and look up at Raine again.

“Sorry,” he repeated weakly. “I, I don’t really know what to do.”

“You did the right thing,” Raine said. “You asked for help. Would you like to start with self-soothing skills or self-esteem work? Self-soothing skills will help you get through episodes safely, and self-esteem work should reduce the frequency and intensity of episodes.”

“Mm?” Percy rubbed his cheek with the heel of his palm. “I was, um, kind of hoping we could do trauma counseling again. At some point, I mean. That was... that was really good, last time.”

“I’m glad,” Raine said gently. “We will get to that, but I don’t believe it’s what we should start with. I’m sure you remember how stressful trauma counseling is – right now, it might do more harm than good.”

She started to say something else, then hesitated. Guilt crept into her expression, and she glanced away. Percy cocked his head, and she exhaled and met his eyes again.

“I also think you should return to St. Joan’s,” she said. “Preferably before we begin serious trauma counseling.”

“...Oh. Why?”

“Your mental health is delicate right now,” Raine said, soft but intense. “St. Joan’s is structured so that patients receive constant support, which allows us to do intensive treatment that, while effective, leaves you emotionally vulnerable. We would have to approach it more cautiously if you also have the responsibilities of schoolwork and your normal social life, and that would mean a much slower recovery.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense.” Despite himself, Percy hiccupped, and bent his head to scrub at his eyes again.

“You can tell me if there’s something wrong, Percy.”

“I don’t want to,” Percy blurted out before he could stop himself. He hiccupped again, tears flowing faster than he could wipe them away. “I want to be home. I miss my mom. I miss my friends. I, I’m not ready to go away again.”

“Okay. I won’t make you.”

Startled, Percy’s eyes shot up to her, wary and distrustful. “Really?”

“Really,” Raine said. “Quite aside from the fact that I have no authority to-” Percy relaxed, then felt guilty for distrusting her. “if you say you need time with your family first, then you can have that. Leaving before you’re ready could be more traumatic than helpful. I’ll give you at least a month, and you can assess then whether you feel ready yet. Does that sound alright?” Percy nodded, relieved. “Perfect. Until then, we can meet... perhaps twice a week?”

“Yeah,” Percy croaked, rubbing his eyes with a shaky smile. “Thanks.”

Raine smiled softly, and then prompted, “So, self-soothing skills or self-esteem work?”

“Self-soothing skills. Please.” It wasn’t even a real choice, honestly. He needed to feel better. “Um, that’ll help with the violent fantasies too, right? Because I don’t need a degree to know that those are bad.”

“It should,” Raine said. “Self-harm is actually a self-soothing impulse, even if it’s a very dangerous one; you try to physicalize your pain to make it easier to cope with. Replacing it with healthier self-soothing habits should reduce those fantasies considerably.” She hesitated, and then added, “If you’ve acted on them, however, we’ll need to tune some of your new habits to specifically address that. Have you?”

Percy shook his head. “No. I’ve, um, I’ve come pretty close, but no.”

“That’s very good,” Raine said. “I understand the impulse can be difficult to resist once it appears, and you’ve done very well to pull through. In that case, let’s move on to what habits we do want you to develop. Do you have access to music?”

“Paul got me an MP3 for my birthday,” Percy said, with a pained smile. He hadn’t been home yet when his birthday passed, and had only IM’d once. “I haven’t gotten much music yet, but I have a gift card and stuff if I wanna. Why?”

“Music is a good way to self-soothe,” Raine explained. “The best way to comfort yourself is to surround yourself with things that make you feel good – familiar sounds, comforting textures, soothing scents, favorite foods or candy, a movie or calming toy like a lava lamp.”

To be honest, it sounded so nice that it made Percy’s chest kind of tight. “I’m not a baby,” he mumbled. “I don’t need to be wrapped in a blanket and put down to nap.”

“I didn’t say that,” Raine said, gentle again. “But if you did want that – after the year you’ve had, I think you’re allowed.”

Percy’s throat tightened, and he had to take a deep, slow breath to calm himself down and relax again. “It sounds nice,” he admitted. “Definitely better than stabbing myself with a fork.” Oh, that joke didn’t land – pain flashed across Raine’s eyes. “Um, what now?”

“Now we’re going to brainstorm what makes you feel good,” Raine said.

And for the next forty-five minutes, that was what they did. Raine took him through it sense by sense. He liked the music that Sally always played during cleaning days and car rides, and the sound of the ocean, and the voice of that guy from How It’s Made. He liked cuddling with his mom and running in the rain, warm blankets and oversized hoodies, cold water and sand. He liked the smell of the ocean, the coconut lotion Annabeth used, the smell of rain. He liked sour candy and sugary soda, and stupid action movies without real stakes.

From there, they moved on to what he could do when he felt overwhelmed and unhappy – run to the park and swing in the rain, or ask his mom to sit on the couch and watch a movie with him. Concrete actions that could, in time, maybe become habits. It made Percy feel a little better to have a plan.

He was pretty sure he had Annabeth to thank for that, and the thought made him feel warm.

“These would be especially useful when you’re recovering from an episode,” Raine explained. “An angry outburst, or a panic attack or nightmare – anything like that. Have you been experiencing many of those?”

Percy winced. “Kinda, yeah. A couple every week, usually.” Except nightmares, which were every night.

“Do you know what causes them?”

Percy shook his head, scowling. “Some of them are really obvious, like when someone mentions the pit, or when it’s dark or something. But sometimes I just freak out and I have no idea why. It sucks.”

“It does,” Raine agreed sympathetically. “Can you do something for me?” Percy hummed in confusion. “Start recording any incidents where you seem to be triggered, and try to note down any possible contributing factors – what you were doing, what you heard, where you were. While some triggers are obvious, some of them take more effort to recognize for what they are.”

“The last one was during dinner,” Percy said plaintively. “What the hell could’ve upset me during dinner? Celery?”

Raine stifled a laugh. “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” she said. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Percy scowled down, then grabbed the edge of his sweatshirt, rubbing it between his fingers. “I dunno. We were having, like, chicken wings, and talking about school and stuff, and then I thought I smelled sulfur. I started, uh, coughing and kind of gasping, and then I had to run and throw up. And then I got mad about it. I don’t understand what happened.”

“It’ll take time,” Raine agreed gently. “Write it down, and in a few weeks we can start comparing notes between incidents, see if we can work out any of your triggers.”

“Okay...” Percy muttered, scowling down at the frayed hem of his sweatshirt. “Sorry. I know this is a lot of work.”

“This is the reason I keep a notebook for each patient,” Raine corrected, tilting up the seashell-etched book in her hands. “You’re not the first patient to come back for a second stay, and you won’t be the last. Things happen.... especially to demigods.”

“But it’s like I started all over,” Percy whined.

“I know it seems like that,” Raine said gently. “But you didn’t. Do you remember our first couple of sessions last time?”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “Um, the first one was just me talking about myself and my family and friends, and the second one was you explaining therapy. And then after that we did asking for help.” He looked down. “I guess we’re not completely starting over. But...” He hesitated, but Raine didn’t break in, and eventually he finished, “I spent so much time learning how to not hate myself. And now I can’t remember.”

“I know,” Raine said softly. “That’s a skill you’ll likely lose and reacquire your whole life. Massive trauma has a way of setting you back.” She smiled at him, small and encouraging. “It’s okay. The hardest step is asking for help, and you’ve already done that.”

Percy closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I can do this.” He opened them and looked at her. “What’s next?”

“Can you tell me more about your suicidal ideation? It’ll help me decide which aspects of your treatment to prioritize.”

“Argh,” Percy said. He buried his hands in the covers and leaned back on them. “Well, first, I hate myself again, so that’s great. I felt really useless during the whole last quest, because even when we were in my element I couldn’t do much, and I kept fucking up. And I, uh.” He hugged himself. When had he picked up that habit? “I... figured out some stuff I can do. Kind of, um, scared Annabeth. And I...” He blinked, and for a second, he vividly remembered the decision to stuff Akhlys’ tears back into delicate channels, the gruesome way she’d burbled and gagged. He blinked again, and it was gone, leaving him feeling nauseous and dizzy. Raine was still looking at him. “I...”

“You scared yourself,” Raine offered. Percy swallowed, then nodded numbly.

“Uh... yeah. Yeah, I did.” He nodded again and looked away. “A-and I was, uh, reminded of some bad things I’d done. People I hadn’t treated well.” He swallowed. His throat was dry. He looked down, grabbed Fang, and hugged him. He felt better. “And I’m, I’m really mad at myself about that. And I’m just- overwhelmed. Really, really overwhelmed. I, I lost eight months of my life, Raine. I missed a whole year of school. And with how my brain is now...” He scrubbed at his eyes. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get my life back together. It feels impossible.”

“I know,” Raine said softly. “I know, you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you. But you’ll have your friends and family to support you the entire time. I promise you, in eight more months, you’ll look back and be amazed at how far you’ve come.”

Percy managed a smile. “Yeah. I hope so.”

Chapter Text

“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.

Chapter Text

“I am the mother of all terrors! The Fates themselves! Hecate! Old age! Pain! Sleep! And all of the curses!”

Nyx cracked her whip, looming over Percy as a god to a child, and the space behind her filled out with nightmares and curses. Each one made the room darker than the last. His knees felt weak, and his lungs were tight, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. His hands shook, and his sword clattered to the ground.

“How dare you not tremble before me!” bellowed the enraged goddess. She cracked her whip again, and Percy flinched back, trembling. Nyx’s voice lashed at his ears like spurs to a horse, making him shudder and gasp.

“No, don’t touch him, Paul – Percy? Can you hear me?”

Too close. Percy recoiled, stumbled, and fell, hitting the ground with a painful bump. His breath came harder and faster, and he had to struggle not to scramble further back, fearful of attracting the attention of Nyx’s children.

“You wish to see the Doors of Death?” Nyx demanded, from somewhere in the dark. “They lie at the very heart of Tartarus. Mortals such as you could never reach them.”

The image of the entrance to the Mansion of Night flashed across Percy’s eyes, suspended over the endless void of Chaos. A whimper crawled out of his throat.

“Percy, can you hear me? You’re at home, in our apartment in Manhattan. You’re safe. It’s over, sweetheart, you’re not there anymore. You’re at home. The power went out, and it’s dark, but you’re safe. Can you hear me?”

The crowd of horrors writhed in front of him, barely distinguishable in the darkness; he only saw flashes of them, Eris’ cruel grin, Geras’ cloudy eyes, bat wings and bright fangs. He felt dizzy.

Percy scraped together all of his willpower and whispered, “M-Mom?”

“Yes, it’s me, Percy. I’m right here. You can reach out and touch me if you like. Do you know where you are?”

“Erebus,” Percy choked out.

“No, sweetheart. You’re safe at home. We’re in the living room. We were watching a movie, and you got up to make popcorn. You were bringing it back from the kitchen.”

“I am the darkest! War and strife!” Darkness billowed out from the crowd, encompassing it like a puff of smoke and ink. The dim outlines boiled under the effect, making them even harder to see.

“I am darker still! I dim the eyes and addle the brain!” Darkness crawled out from the corners, swallowing the crowd.

“I am the darkest!” Darker.

“No, I!” Darker.

“No! Behold my darkness!” Darker.

An awful, strangled whimper squeaked out of Percy’s throat.

“M-Mom,” he said, and leaned forward to reach out. His hand came in contact with a soft sweater, and he clutched at it like a lifeline, an icy thread of relief starting to break into his terror. “Mom?”

“It’s me, Percy. Is it alright if I hug you?”

“It’s dark,” Percy croaked.

“I know, sweetheart. Paul went to get the lanterns. He should be back soon.”

Percy blinked a few times, staring straight forward. His eyes probably should have adjusted by now, but all he could see was the uninterrupted darkness of Nyx’s children. “Mom? Can you hug me?”

Not a second passed before he felt his mom’s unmistakable warm embrace, her arms holding him close and tight, like she could keep him safe with love alone. He leaned in, but his breath was still shuddering and labored, and he felt numb with shock and horror.

An eternity later, Paul’s footsteps stumbled toward them, and Percy heard Paul whisper-shouting, “I’ve got them, I’ve got them, just a second!”

There was a faint thud, and then a lantern flicked on, casting light on the coffee table, the couch, the floor, the popcorn scattered on the ground, and Paul’s shaking hands. Then a second lantern, and a third, and a little kid’s lantern. The darkness parted, revealing... the living room. Just the living room.

Finally, Percy felt like he could breathe.

“Percy? Are you alright?” Sally asked, soft and anxious. Percy shuddered.

“I’m okay,” he said, cheeks wet with fear. “Kinda wanna cry. But okay.” He realized he was still clutching Sally’s sweater, and also that it wasn’t her sweater, but her arm, and he was probably holding it tight enough to bruise badly. He loosened his grip. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, baby,” Sally soothed. “Do you want to try out your comfort gear?”

The self-soothing box. Right. As weak and shaky as Percy felt, it actually sounded pretty good. “Yeah. But it’s in my room.” Pause. “Paul? Can you go get it? It’s right inside the door.”

There was a brief, startled silence; Percy had never let Paul in his room before, and in fact, had explicitly told him early on to never go into his room.

“Of course,” Paul said quietly. “I’ll be just a minute.”

He got up and disappeared back out of the circle of light, and Percy leaned into Sally’s embrace, feeling exhausted. Sally squeezed him gently.

“Ready to get up onto the couch?” she asked. “There’s still some cookies on the coffee table.”

“Mmkay,” Percy mumbled, and went along with her as she pulled both of them to their feet and steered him back to the couch, still well within the lanterns’ radius. They settled down again in short order, and Sally had just given him a cookie when Paul returned and set the box within their reach. Percy stared at the box, and then leaned over.

Fang was the first out, familiar and cuddly. Then the blanket, an old and soft one, and a set of headphones he could drop around his neck to hear his music playing faintly. Finally he settled back into Sally, breathing a little easier, and bit into the cookie.

“That’s it, sweetie,” Sally murmured, sounding relieved. “Just relax. You’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Percy mumbled back, focusing on calming his trembling muscles.

This was allowed, he told himself. He was allowed to seek comfort, if he wanted it.

“I’m funny... I think,” Percy said to Raine, and then laughed a little, scratching his head. “Man, my self-esteem really did nosedive, huh? It’s been a long time since I second-guessed if I was funny or not.”

“Many people think you’re funny, Percy,” Raine assured him gently. “You like that about yourself? Why is that a good thing?”

Percy winced. “Can I make a stupid request?”

“Always.”

“Can you just say that first part next time? I know what you mean, but jeez, that kinda made my heart pound.”

“Of course, I apologize,” Raine said. “Can you tell me why you like that about yourself?”

Percy relaxed a little. “Yeah, that’s better. Thanks.” He tugged at his jeans thoughtfully. “Um, I like that I’m funny because it makes it easier to cheer my friends up. When we were... were down there, I could make Annabeth laugh when we were swimming in the Cocytus. I’m proud of that.”

“That’s an excellent reason,” Raine agreed, writing something down. “What else did you write?”

“I... like that I’m loyal,” Percy said haltingly, glancing down at his paper. He’d written everything large, not needing to conserve space, though he was pretty sure a lot of it was misspelled. “I don’t hurt the people I love on purpose. That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

“That’s true,” Raine said. “Why do you like that about yourself?”

“It means that people can trust me,” Percy said, with more confidence. “Not- not 100%, but a lot. My friends know that I won’t leave them or betray them or anything. They... they know they can depend on me. Um, most of the time.”

Even he winced at his urgent backpedaling, but he couldn’t help it. He could almost hear the screeches of the arai arguing with him, tightening a vice around his lungs.

“Very good,” Raine said, giving him a small smile. “What else?”

“Um, I’m resolute,” Percy offered, and laughed a little. “Mom says that’s the nice way of saying stubborn.”

He tried to focus, working his way down the list with Raine. They talked about what it meant that he was loving, that he was openhearted, that he was a mama’s boy, a caring boyfriend, a hard worker.

It felt nice, for the most part, and cheered him up as much as making the list with his parents had. Every step reminded him, people do like you, you do good things sometimes, you care about people.

Still, he couldn’t push away the mounting sense of dread and guilt creeping up his spine, the part that hissed in his ear, lies, lies, lies.

“What else can you think of?” Raine pushed, when they were finished. “Are you kind, considerate? A good friend?”

Percy’s blood roared in his ears. Somehow, he could still hear.

“Percy?”

“Percy! Why did you leave me?”

“Percy!”

“Percy!”

His lips moved, but he forgot what he was saying as soon as it passed them, and he didn’t have enough breath to lend them volume. The raw terror and betrayal in Annabeth’s voice eviscerated him.

“Percy. Can you hear me?”

Percy blinked, and slowly the world came into focus again. He stared blankly at Raine through the Iris message. No words came to mind. His stomach churned.

Raine looked tense, but her voice stayed calm. “Percy, do you know where you are?”

“...Not a good friend,” Percy croaked. “Bad friend.”

He was trembling.

“Okay,” Raine said soothingly. “It’s okay if you don’t consider that one of your good qualities. There are still plenty of amazing things about you, it’s okay if that’s not one of them. Are you with me?”

Percy looked down. He almost reached for his stuffed shark on instinct, but guilt snapped at him. Bob and Damasen had died for him. What business did Percy have comforting himself?

“I’m gonna go throw up,” Percy told Raine. “I’ll be right back.”

Shakily, Percy climbed out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. He dropped to his knees, braced himself on the toilet seat, and retched. Most of Percy’s worst triggers made him dizzy, nauseous, or both; he was rapidly getting used to this routine.

When he was done, he rinsed his mouth out in the sink, grimacing, then took a deep breath and returned to his bedroom. Raine was fidgeting nervously with her pen, but she looked relieved to see him.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked softly.

Percy nodded and hauled himself back onto his bed, cross-legged. He hesitated, staring at Raine, and set his hands on the covers. He wanted to explain his reaction to her, but he thought he might throw up again if he tried. Or worse, start sobbing.

“Do you know what an arai is, Raine?” he asked at last. She shook her head. “It’s the spirit of a curse. You curse someone, it becomes an arai. An arai finds you, and you have two choices. You can die on its claws, or you can kill it. But if you kill it, you get the curse.”

He looked down. His hands were still shaking.

“What happened, Percy?” Raine murmured.

His mouth opened, then closed, and then he shook his head. “I, I can’t talk about it. Sorry.” His heart was pounding in his chest.

“That’s alright,” Raine said. “Can you tell me what you’re feeling right now?”

“I...” Percy trailed off, struggling to turn his attention inward without cringing away. “Guilty. Ashamed. Scared.” He bit his tongue and wavered, a lump swelling in his throat. “It’s bad. I don’t deserve to feel this way.”

“You don’t,” Raine said quietly. “You could never do anything to deserve to feel as badly about yourself as you do right now.”

“No,” he heard himself say. He decided he hated the way that his emotions could make him feel so awful that he may as well be turning inside out. “I don’t deserve to feel hurt. W-what happened was all my fault. I don’t get to be upset about it.”

Something flashed across Raine’s eyes, there and gone before he could read it.

“That’s not true, Percy,” Raine said. “Feelings don’t have to be earned. When someone hurts you, you’re allowed to feel hurt. Even if you’re in the wrong, and you need to make it up to them, you can still feel hurt. No one can take that from you.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t,” she agreed softly. “And I won’t until you tell me. It doesn’t matter. These appointments are a private, safe space, and you can feel and express anything you need to. The only place where fault matters is when you’re interacting with the person you may have hurt.”

Percy’s breath hitched, and he lowered his eyes guiltily. He’d been avoiding Calypso fervently since Leo had rescued her from Ogygia.

“Okay,” Raine said softly, after a minute. “Are you up to another assignment?” Percy grunted. “Every day, I want you to write down three good things that you did. Keep them in a journal, or a notepad, anything. Do it every day.”

“What if I didn’t do three good things?” Percy asked bitterly.

“Ask your parents and Annabeth,” Raine said. “Whoever you’re with. If you ask someone for help, and you still can’t think of three, then that’s fine. But I want you to try.”

Percy exhaled. “This is supposed to make me stop hating myself so much, right?” Raine nodded. “Alright. Okay. I can try, I guess.”

“I can’t remember the nice way to say I have a problem with this exercise,” Percy admitted, thumbing the edge of his packet.

The corner of Raine’s mouth twitched. “The generally accepted way is to say that you’re uncomfortable with it,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t really...” Percy hesitated, considered, and amended, “I really don’t want to spend two hours telling myself how bad and wrong my thoughts are. I know it’s supposed to make me feel better, but that makes me feel bad.”

Raine’s expression turned thoughtful, and she nodded. “I understand,” she said. “Thank you for expressing your reservations. I think that this exercise will be very important for you, since you struggle with negative self-talk so much-” Percy pulled his knees to his chest and slouched, dropping his gaze from the Iris message. “-but let’s try and reformat it so that it doesn’t upset you.”

“Seriously?” Percy asked, somewhere between hopeful and wary. Raine gave him a gentle smile and a nod.

“We’re trying to make you feel better about yourself, not worse,” she said. “So while we still need to find a way to curb your negative thoughts, systematically disproving each of them may not be the way to do it.” She nodded at Percy’s packet. “We have your negative thoughts from yesterday. How can we influence them to be more positive without invalidating your negative feelings?”

It was always nice when Raine could turn his weird hang-ups into fancy psychology speak.

“...Shoulder angel?” Percy suggested. Raine blinked at him, and he shrugged and fidgeted with the staple. “You’re always talking about me being a better friend to myself. Maybe we can, I dunno, try and make a voice that tells me good things instead of telling me to die. Like I’d say to a friend.” He flushed. “I dunno if that makes sense. You can ignore me if it doesn’t.”

“No, I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Raine said, giving him a small smile. “We’ll try to cultivate a positive inner voice for you. That would help you balance your inner self and feel less overwhelmed.”

He relaxed a little. “So that is a thing we can do?”

Raine nodded. “It’s just a matter of encouraging the thoughts. If you’re able to get in the habit of thinking positive thoughts – that’s your shoulder angel.”

“Awesome.” Percy sighed in relief. “So... for each of these, I guess we just make a positive thought for each negative one?”

Raine shook her head. “We’ll skip disproving them, but I would still like you to explore the feelings and beliefs associated with your negative thoughts. In the name of balance, I’d also like you to speak about the emotions and implications of their positive counterparts.”

Percy winced. “Uh, can you do an example for me?”

“Were many of your negative thoughts about your body?” Raine asked. Percy shook his head. “Then I’ll use that as an example. Let’s say that the negative thought is ‘I eat too much.’ The feelings associated with that might be guilt, embarrassment, and frustration, and the beliefs might be that you are eating more than you deserve, that you are overweight, and that you are bad for being overweight. With me so far?” Percy nodded. “Let’s say that the positive counterpart is ‘I can eat what I want.’ The feelings associated with that thought might be contentment and assurance, and the beliefs might be that you are allowed to eat what you want, that your weight is fine, and eating is not something you’re going to stress about.”

Percy bit his cheek, then nodded. “Okay, I think I get it. Is it okay if I ask for help if I get stuck, though?”

“Of course.”

He relaxed a little, and ran his hand over the page.

“So this is like, way worse than I thought it was going to be,” he admitted to Raine. “And I thought it was going to be pretty bad. But, uh.” Percy held up the packet and flipped through it for her to see. Three pages, front and back. Raine winced. “Yeah. Mom looked like she was going to cry.”

“Did you notice any recurring themes?” Raine asked. Percy nodded.

“Yeah. Lots of stuff about me being a problem. A ton about me feeling bad for bothering Mom. Uh, I’m more anxious about Paul being unhappy with me than I realized. And apparently I’m not enjoying the break, because there was a bunch about me being a waste of space.”

“Would you be willing to spend another session or two working through these if necessary?” Raine asked.

Percy covered his face with both hands. “Aaaah!” Raine waited. After a moment, he begrudgingly dropped his hands. “...Yeah. I’m just mad we have to waste a whole extra session on this stuff.”

“It’s not a waste,” Raine said mildly. “We’d be spending time picking over what makes you feel bad and counteracting it. That’s what we’re supposed to be doing with this time.”

“I guess,” Percy sighed, staring down. “I don’t even know where to start with this shit.”

“Can you pick a few from each of the categories you mentioned?” Raine requested. “It’ll be good to form a base for your responses before we cover them more comprehensively.”

Percy grumbled, but spent the next few minutes squinting at his notes and making marks by some of the highlights. Lowlights? What was it called when you pinpointed your worst points of insecurity? “Okay, got ‘em.”

“When you’re ready.”

Percy inconveniently blanked. “Um, the bad thought, the feelings, and what again?”

“The beliefs that created it,” Raine said. “And then a positive counter, the feelings that invokes, and the beliefs supporting it.”

Percy nodded distractedly. “Uh, the bad thought is ‘I’m never gonna get my life together,’” he said, slow and uncomfortable. Raine didn’t react, her expression staying gentle and attentive. “And I guess... that makes me feel hopeless, angry, and sad. And the beliefs...” He cast his mind back to the example. “That I’m not going to get better, I’m not gonna get through high school, and I’ll never be a functional adult.”

“And what can your friendly voice say to that?” Raine prompted gently. Percy smiled a little.

“Friendly voice. I like that,” he decided. “Maybe... ‘I can pick myself back up.’ And that makes me feel hopeful and determined, and I believe that this shit won’t last forever, and someday I’ll be in charge of my life again.”

“That sounds perfect. Well done,” Raine praised, and Percy smiled, quick and pleased.

It faded as he looked down again. “And I guess the next bad thought is ‘I make everything about me.’ And... that makes me feel ashamed and like, spiteful toward myself. Angry. And it comes from thinking...” He faltered, then shrugged uncomfortably.

“It’s a generalization,” Raine said, “but you should focus on what initially spurred the thought. Why would one incident cause you to think you make everything about yourself?”

Percy bit his cheek. “It was when I was explaining the assignment to Mom,” he said slowly, “because she saw that I was writing stuff. I could see that she was worried.” He crossed his arms. “I guess... it comes from thinking that people shouldn’t worry about me, and... that I’m not worth worrying about?”

“And your friendly voice says...?” Raine prompted. Percy smiled a little.

“People care about me?” he suggested after a minute’s thought. “That makes me feel good. Um, happy and loved. And it says that I deserve to be cared about, and they don’t mind worrying about me.”

“You’re a natural at this,” Raine said. Percy brightened.

“So the next bad thought is...” He winced. “Gods, it’s probably good I wasn’t watching Mom while I was writing this, huh?” He glanced up and explained, “The next few all kinda went together. With the last one, too. Do I still have to do them separately?”

“Please, if you don’t mind,” Raine said. “Negative thoughts cascade into each other, but they still come from different emotions and beliefs.”

“Yeah, alright,” Percy sighed. “So this one is ‘I’m making Mom sad again,’ and it makes me feel guilty, frustrated, and sad, and... it comes from thinking that I’m a burden on Mom, and... and that Mom shouldn’t be sad about me?” He looked at Raine, then back down. “I don’t know what I can say to that.”

It’s true, he bit off.

“Do you remember your first family therapy session with your mother?” Raine asked gently. Percy nodded. “Do you remember what she said when you apologized for being a burden?”

The memory made Percy flush, embarrassed and pleased.

“...Yeah,” he said softly. “So maybe... ‘Mom worries because she loves me?’ I don’t know if that’s a positive, but it’s comforting, and it makes me not feel so guilty.”

“That works,” Raine agreed encouragingly. “Can you tell me what beliefs it supports?”

“That... I deserve to be loved and cared about, and Mom doesn’t mind worrying about me?” he suggested. Raine smiled at him.

“I want to point out,” she said, “that your mood is visibly rising and falling as we have this conversation. It drops every time you name a negative thought, and rises every time you counter it.”

Percy thought back and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess it is. That’s weird. I wouldn’t have thought stuff like this would affect me so much.” Raine nodded, and then gestured for him to go on. He glanced down and winced. “‘I don’t know why Mom even bothers with me.’ Gods, I hope Mom didn’t read that over my shoulder or anything. She’d definitely cry.”

“She cares about you very much,” Raine agreed. Percy relaxed a little and nodded.

“So that makes me feel guilty and depressed,” he said slowly, “and... it comes from believing that I’m not worth the effort, that I can’t be helped, and Mom has better things to do than help me.” He crossed his legs. “But... my friendly voice can say ‘Mom would never give up on me,’ and that makes me feel determined and supported, and... it helps me believe that I am worth the effort and Mom will always be there for me.”

“Very good, Percy. You’re doing very well.”

Percy smiled briefly before looking down. “And the last of the set is, um, ‘Paul probably wants me to leave so Mom can relax easier.’ That... makes me feel sad and unwanted, and it comes from believing that I’m hurting Mom, and that Paul doesn’t care about me as much as he does Mom. But my friendly voice says ‘Paul is worried about me too,’ and that makes me feel loved and... welcome, I guess. And it helps me believe that I matter to Paul and that making people worry doesn’t mean I’m hurting them.”

“You’re doing wonderfully, Percy,” Raine said sincerely, smiling at him. “It’s a privilege to hear you be optimistic about your life and self-worth.”

Percy managed a fleeting smile, and then crossed his arms self-consciously.

“Is this really okay, though?” he asked. “I mean... it feels nice and all, but after a while I’m just gonna feel like I’m lying to myself.”

“That’s because you’re currently in a very pessimistic mindset,” Raine said gently, “so an optimistic or even balanced approach feels unrealistic by comparison. The adjustment may be uncomfortable at times, but it will be good for you.”

“Oh,” Percy said. “That’s what the whole disproving-the-negative-thought step was supposed to handle, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Raine confirmed. “But as you can see, you’re doing just fine without it. You just need to believe in yourself.”

“Catch-22,” Percy muttered, but he felt better.

Chapter Text

Percy hadn’t thought that Akhlys would be a prime feature of his nightmares. Sure, the encounter had been harrowing, and he’d touched a part of himself that he never, ever wanted to see again – but Akhlys hadn’t inspired the same pants-pissing terror in him that, say, Nyx and her children or Tartarus himself had.

Then it became clear that over half of Annabeth’s nightmares were of Akhlys. Specifically, Percy and Akhlys.

Percy knew better than to apologize to her for it, but he wanted to as she clutched at him, taking great, big gulps of air between broken sobs. Today was a vocal day, and she mumbled desperately against his chest, half-awake, “Don’t, Percy, please, don’t, don’t-”

Yeah. Percy hadn’t felt that bad about Akhlys before, but that had changed pretty quick.

“Up and at ‘em, Wise Girl,” he said softly, rapping at her back with his fingertips. “We’re okay. We’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Annabeth shuddered and sobbed a couple more times, but eventually her eyes cleared and she squinted up at him blearily, and then hugged him. “You can’t do that to me,” she mumbled. “You can’t.”

It would have been less painful if she’d dug her fingers into his heart and pulled it open. He set his forehead on her temple so she couldn’t see his face. “Never, I would never,” he said, not for the first time, like that would make her believe him.

“You can’t,” she said again, tearfully.

Percy hated himself viciously, and his shoulder devil soothed him with a low murmur of cruel ideas, punishments for the fear and trauma he’d inflicted on his best friend. He let it, listening with half an ear, and held onto her tightly.

It took Annabeth a few minutes to stop shaking, though her eyes were still wet and wild when she pulled away. Then they met his, and her expression dimmed even further.

“You’ve got shoulder devil eyes again,” she said. Percy closed his eyes and didn’t deny it, just hiking her closer.

“Sorry for-” For being the scariest thing in Tartarus. “Sorry.”

Annabeth sighed, and when Percy looked at her there was an awful sheen of hopelessness in her eyes too, though she tried to wipe it away when she saw him looking.

They weren’t sleeping in his room, though they’d entertained the idea; Sally had asked that they leave the door open if they did that, and the idea made Percy uncomfortable. So they cuddled on the couch instead, Percy stretched out along the length and Annabeth draped on top of him, and when Annabeth was over they slept like that. The lights in the living room stayed on.

“Want to watch stupid shows about how the pyramids got built?” Percy asked. She slumped down against him and gave him a grateful, if shaken smile.

“You just like hearing me complain,” Annabeth mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s hot,” Percy agreed, because it made Annabeth laugh. She reached over and grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and a few minutes later they were on the history channel.

“Aliens!” the wild-eyed man insisted.

The shoulder devil kept talking, but Percy liked listening to his girlfriend grumble better.

Slowly, the air between them eased from stifling and painful to a lighter, easier tone, Annabeth slowly relaxing on top of Percy. He relaxed too, snickering along to the outlandish claims of the TV shows and even more to Annabeth’s retorts. After a while, he rapped his knuckles against her ribcage.

“Stop putting your knee between my legs,” he told her. “Or you’re going to wake something else up.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but obediently shifted to straddle him instead. “Not my fault your head is in the gutter.”

“Yeah, it is,” Percy said, and grinned at Annabeth’s exasperated look. He craned his neck to look at the window. “Looks like the sun’s waking up. Wanna grab breakfast? Pancakes?”

“Pancakes and eggs,” Annabeth said. “You make the pancakes, I’ll make the eggs, because I am not eating blue eggs.”

Percy made an agreeable sound, because more food always sounded better to him, but didn’t move to get up until Annabeth did. Once she did, he stretched with a satisfied groan. Maybe he and Annabeth couldn’t avoid nightmares even when they were glued together, but it sure made the hours awake a lot more relaxing.

“Don’t know what I’m gonna do without you, Wise Girl,” he said without thinking. She glanced at him sharply, and he elaborated, “St. Joan’s.”

Sure enough, her sharp look softened instantly.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “But we’d have to figure out how to deal eventually.” She elbowed him gently. “May as well do it when you’re gonna be in a building full of therapists.”

He snorted, and grabbed her hand without thinking on the way into the kitchen.

He’d been surprised when he found out that Annabeth didn’t know how to cook, scrambled eggs notwithstanding. He wasn’t sure whether it was because she was a girl, or because she seemed to know everything, or because she was aggressively independent – but he’d just kind of expected her to. Of course, once she mentioned it, it seemed obvious; growing up at a summer camp where the harpies took care of everything hadn’t left her much room to learn.

Which meant that Percy, who’d grown up helping his mom however he could, was the one who knew that stuff. Maybe a lot of boys would’ve been embarrassed, but it filled Percy with an odd sort of pride. He mentally flagged it as a thing he was proud of.

“I should probably mention we’ll be separated earlier than we thought,” Annabeth said after a while, once the eggs were sizzling in a pan.

Percy stiffened with alarm and had to force himself to relax again. “How come?”

Annabeth leaned against the counter, not looking up. “I gave in,” she admitted. “I let Dad pick a therapist, so I’ll be flying out to start that next week.” She prodded the eggs, encouraging them to cook through. “I decided I’d done enough beating around the bush. Get it over with, you know?”

“You’re sure you don’t wanna do the Tartarus stuff first?” Percy asked her, worried.

“I don’t know,” Annabeth sighed. “I don’t think it matters. Handling one will make the other easier, won’t it? And doing this...” She trailed off for a moment, then took the eggs off the heat before she finished. “I feel like this will let Dad know I want to make up too.”

There was a faint ache of longing in her voice. She’d taken her mother’s rejection hard, and Percy thought she was trying to fill that hole with this.

“You don’t think he knows?” Percy asked softly, though the effect was somewhat ruined when he poured a new set of pancakes.

“I certainly haven’t been acting like it,” Annabeth said, bitter and frustrated.

Percy nudged her gently. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” he said. “Whatever works for you, you know?”

Annabeth softened and smiled at him. “Yeah,” she said. “Same to you.”

The fourth lotion that Percy opened made him smile.

“Perfect,” he said, holding it out for Sally to sniff. The scent of the ocean made her smile too, and she closed the cap and put it in the basket, where it joined a few bags of candy and another iTunes card. “Um, what did you say the ceiling was again?”

“I didn’t,” Sally said, without even glancing at Paul. Her eyes were soft, still relieved even though Percy had been home for weeks. “We’re much better off than we used to be, Percy, and this is for your health. Don’t worry about the cost today.”

Percy’s cheeks heated self-consciously. “Oh, uh, okay.”

Sally smiled at him, and then suggested, “Why don’t you pick out a few bottles of hand soap? We’re almost out in the bathroom.”

They headed in that direction, and Percy let his mind drift.

He didn’t know what it was, but something about this quest had made coming home seem so much more surreal. The fluorescent lights over his head felt eerie; the linoleum under his feet, threatening. His parents seemed out of place, making him anxious with the desire to usher them somewhere safe.

He tried to shake the feeling off. Hypervigilance, Raine had said. Percy knew the quest was over, but his body hadn’t caught up yet.

The soap wasn’t far from the lotions, and Percy went to skim the scents before his eye caught on one that claimed to smell like rain. He decided he liked that idea, and reached out to test them until he found one that smelled close enough. At the same time, he angled himself so he faced the open floor, watching for anyone approaching.

“Want me to go look?” Paul offered gamely, leaning against the cart with a wry smile.

Percy cursed under his breath and put the soap back. “No,” he said, chest tightening dangerously. Despite all logic, he couldn’t push away the awful image of- of a manticore striking as soon as Paul stepped out, or an empousa, or- “Damn it.”

He walked to the other end of the aisle and looked both ways. A couple of people with shopping carts, all preoccupied with lists or watching their kids. The aisle to the left had one woman with a bored teenager leaning against the shared shelf. The aisle to the right had a toddler disappearing into the next row over. Worry bit at him, but that row just had a man with another, older kid and the safe-and-sound toddler. No monsters. The whole useless exercise had him fuming with frustration and embarrassment.

He returned to the cart.

“All clear?” Paul asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“It’s not funny,” Percy snapped, and winced when Paul jumped. He crossed his arms and turned away, trying to get a hold of himself. “Sorry, I- yeah. No monsters. Obviously.”

“Doesn’t hurt to make sure,” Paul said, more gently this time.

“Stop,” Percy said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and bounced unhappily. “I know, okay? I know it doesn’t make sense. ‘M not thinking clearly. I, I just...”

“I know,” Paul said quietly. “I’m sorry for teasing you. I was hoping to lighten your mood a little.”

Percy bounced again, scowling at the ground. “Sorry.”

Paul just ruffled his hair.

Sally took Percy’s hand and squeezed it. “So we have candy, lotion, soap... oh, would you want anything for your sulking corner?”

Percy managed a smile. “Wouldn’t that be rewarding myself for bad behavior?”

Percy knew his parents were worried about him. He’d never been so messed up he couldn’t hide it before. He was so tense these days that he was starting to regain a little of his childhood testiness – snapping at little things, falling into fits of temper. A pile of throw pillows had become his own little sulking corner in the back of the living room.

“I don’t think so,” Paul said. “Everyone is grumpy when they’re feeling under the weather. Best to let you cheer yourself up.”

“Sorry,” Percy said, looking away to the shelves. “I’ll try and catch it earlier.”

“Percy.” Sally caught his elbow and turned him toward her to meet her eyes. “You were gone for a year, and you suffered and accomplished things we can’t even imagine while you were away. We don’t expect you to be on your best behavior right now. Home is where you’re allowed to not be okay.”

Gods, Percy loved his mom. He hugged her.

“You always wanted a lava lamp,” Sally added when they let go. “Would you like one of those in your corner? Or maybe in your room?”

Percy smiled, feeling warm. “In my room,” he decided, not mentioning that he thought it would be nice when he was too anxious to sleep. “For the corner...” He thought about the anger management strategies he’d learned. “Bubbles, maybe a coloring book and some pencils?”

“You won’t want something to vent on?” Paul asked.

“I can bite the pencils,” Percy explained.

Paul chuckled, and they moved toward the office supplies.

“You haven’t told us much about what happened,” Sally said after a while, subtly inviting Percy to talk about it or brush her off. Percy faltered, keeping his eyes on the shelves as they passed.

“Yeah, I guess not,” he said quietly. He watched a few shelves pass. “It was harder than usual. I don’t think I was much help this time.”

“What did you do?” Paul asked. Percy glanced at him uncertainly, and Paul squeezed his shoulder, looking calm and reassuring. Percy shrugged.

“Nothing no one else could’ve done,” he muttered.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Paul said. The certainty in his voice made Percy flush, and he searched his memory, not wanting to disappoint Paul.

“I... kept the ship from capsizing that time, I guess,” he said reluctantly. “And...” He grimaced. “I don’t think anyone but me and Annabeth could’ve made it through Tartarus to close the Doors on that side.”

He didn’t realize how little he’d told them about his quest until Sally inhaled sharply.

“Tartarus?” she asked, voice wavering slightly.

Percy didn’t answer right away. They’d reached the office supplies, and he took the opportunity to step in and grab a coloring book at random to flip through.

“What?” Paul asked, sounding lost. “Not- not the Underworld prison.”

“Not really a prison,” Percy muttered. He closed the coloring book in his hands, put it back, and pulled out another one to look through. “More like a really, really awful canyon.”

“Percy...” Sally whispered. He didn’t look up.

“Wouldn’t recommend it for a destination wedding,” he said, voice coming out rough. Put it back, found an ocean-theme one, pulled it out. “Terrible refreshments, and the locals hate you. Sulfur air, one exit only. Not my cup of tea.”

“It must have hurt to breathe,” murmured Paul the high school teacher. Percy swallowed. His throat felt dry. He patted his pockets hastily, then popped a jolly rancher into his mouth. “And your skin. How did you...?”

“Paul,” Sally interrupted softly, and Paul stopped, looking pale. Percy took a deep breath.

“River of fire,” he muttered. “Heals like nectar, but it tastes like shit. Thank the gods for Annabeth. I never would’ve known that.”

Sally squeezed his hand again. “I’m glad you were together.”

Percy relaxed a little, exhaled, and nodded. He looked down at the coloring book in his hands, then added it to the basket.

“Anyway, the Doors of Death were in the deepest part,” he said. “Me and Annabeth together could make it through, with a lot of luck, but I don’t think anyone else could’ve. And we needed to close that door from both sides.”

“Percy,” Paul said seriously, “if that had been the only thing you’d done, you still would have been irreplaceable on that quest. Never mind what you mean to us.”

A weight lifted off Percy’s shoulders. Something occurred to him, and he perked up.

“Can I get a bean bag for the corner?”

Sally laughed, oddly wet, and kissed his hair. “Of course you can.”

“I can’t fail school for the third year running,” Percy said to Raine, plaintive frustration twisting his voice into knots. “I just can’t. I’m, I’m not this dumb. I have to be able to do this.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” Raine asked gently.

Percy slumped against his knees, feeling defeated. “I had a flashback during class,” he muttered. “I have biology this year, and we were going over the organ systems. And I...” He swallowed, closing a fist over his chest. “Sorry. I, I don’t think I can tell you any more than that without freaking out.”

“That’s alright,” Raine soothed. “I’m proud of you for recognizing that and stopping yourself. Do you think it’s likely to happen again?”

Percy felt the blood drain from his face. Oh gods. They’d have to go over diagrams of the heart, the lungs, the immune system- everything he’d seen when he was...

“Blue food, blue food,” he said desperately, hiding his face in his arms to try and breathe. He was surprised how well it worked, crowding out the oppressive images with the memory of campfire smoke and sand and his mom’s soothing voice. Montauk.

He’d caught it in time; in a few moments, his breath evened out, and he was able to look back up at Raine.

“I don’t think I can take biology this year,” he said weakly.

Raine nodded solemnly, and then said, “You’re already planning on getting a GED, because we’ve established that high school is difficult for you. Why are you so against dropping out to focus on your needs?”

“And be a high school fucking dropout?” Percy asked desperately. “I can’t do that! I- Mom and Paul and Annabeth are all so smart, I can’t... I’m not stupid!”

“Your mother dropped out of high school,” Raine reminded him. “You don’t think any less of her for it. Do you think she’ll think any less of you?”

Percy’s breath hitched. “That’s different,” he said, hating himself even as he did. “That was out of her control. She had to take care of her uncle. It wasn’t her fault.”

“And you were kidnapped by a goddess and put through trials beyond mortal comprehension,” Raine said. “That’s not your fault either. It’s perfectly natural to need a break after what happened, and it certainly does not make you any less intelligent than your peers.”

“I was really trying,” Percy protested, feeling miserable. “I wanted to make Mom proud. Mom... Mom thinks I can do it.”

“Your mother is very proud of you, Percy,” Raine said gently. “That won’t change if you give up this fight before you hurt yourself, and I’m sure that she’ll support your decision either way.”

Percy moaned unhappily, and shifted to cradle his cheek in his elbow. “I’ll talk to her about it,” he mumbled. “I mean... I know she’ll say the same thing you said. But I want to talk to her about it before I decide.”

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” Raine reassured him. “Would you like to work on goal-setting today? It might make you feel better to have things to work towards outside of school.”

“Right, sorry,” Percy mumbled, rubbing his knuckles on his cheek. “Forgot you had a plan and stuff.”

“Issues that you bring up to me supersede any plan I may make in advance,” Raine said firmly. “That said, yes, goal-setting was the intention for today. Do you feel up to it?”

“Sure,” Percy muttered.

“Do you have reservations?” she asked gently. Percy shrugged.

“No,” he sighed. “I’m just- fed up. I’ll try anything. But I kinda feel like setting goals is just making more things for me to fail at.” He thought that over, then smacked himself on the forehead. “Ugh! Sorry. That was really...” He trailed off.

“It’s indicative of your poor mental health, yes,” Raine agreed, still oddly gentle. “It’s not where we want you to be, but we knew that already, and you’re not a bad person for expressing your doubts. What we’ll be doing today is attempting to identify goals that are realistic and achievable in your current state of mind. Is that alright?”

“I guess,” Percy said, and then clarified, “I feel better about it, anyway.”

Raine smiled at him, then looked down. “Would you like to write these down?” she asked. “Or would you prefer that I write them down and email them to Sally?”

Percy thought about it. “Um, email them to Mom? I don’t think I’ll be able to focus if I’m trying to write.”

Raine nodded and shifted something around on her desk. “We’re going to brainstorm first,” she said. “Later, we’ll organize these goals into things you can achieve in a few days, in a few weeks, or in a year, but don’t worry too much about that yet. For this first part, we’re going to talk about things you think you could change to make your life easier.”

“Uh, all the things I can think of are like, really overwhelming,” Percy pointed out warily. Raine smiled ruefully.

“I assumed,” she agreed. “That’s why we’re breaking them into categories; it should help you come up with some simpler ideas.” She tapped something on her desk. “The first category is material goals. Is there something you’ve been wanting? A new skateboard, a wall poster?”

Percy laughed, surprised by the instant simplicity. “Oh, I kinda get what you mean now,” he said. “But, uh, isn’t this like... petty?”

“Not at all,” Raine said. “You could think of it as being the same kind of comfort you keep in your self-soothing box, in goal form. Think about it: you decide that sometime in the next year, you want a new skateboard. You save up enough to buy one, and you’ve accomplished a goal you set for yourself, and you also have something you want.” She smiled at him. “It’s a very simple sort of happiness, but those are good for you.”

“Alright,” Percy said thoughtfully, relaxing into the bed. He shifted to stretch out on his stomach and kicked his legs behind him. “How many do you want?”

“Let’s go with three to five for each category,” Raine suggested. “You don’t need to keep them all, and it will give you plenty to work with for the next part.”

Percy nodded, setting his cheek in his hand. “Then I guess... I want some nightlights for my room, and some for Annabeth too. I kinda want to get one of my ears pierced.” He pinched his left earlobe and smiled a little. “Maybe both, I’ll ask Annabeth what she thinks. And some new shoes. The tread is all flat on mine.”

Raine started to nod, then frowned slightly. “How dangerous is that for you?” she asked, concerned. At Percy’s look, she clarified, “If it’s a matter of safety, I’d suggest categorizing this as a need rather than a want.”

Percy made a sound of comprehension and thought about it. “Yeah, alright, I’ve slipped a couple times,” he decided. “I’ll talk to Mom about it soon. A new hoodie, then. I want a purple one.”

Raine smiled at him, looking fond. “Perfect,” she said. “Next is family and friends – if you want to meet new people, spend more time with someone, improve a certain relationship and so on.”

Percy hummed. “I’d like to be better friends with Jason,” he said after a while. “We work really well together, but we haven’t had time to actually be friends yet. And Leo and Piper too. I’d really like that, if I can get them used to me.” He shrugged self-consciously, hesitated, and then continued, “Um... I’d kinda like to talk to Paul about his parents, ask if they’re interested in meeting me and Mom at all. I’ve never had grandparents before.” He ducked his head. “I don’t know how I’d start that conversation though.”

“Then it sounds like an excellent medium or long-term goal,” Raine said kindly. “Anything else?”

Percy hesitated again, and then said quietly, “I want to talk to Dad about... about that place. I haven’t really talked to him since we talked at St. Joan’s. I don’t know what I want to say or anything, I just... want him to be there for me.” He shrugged. “I dunno if that counts. It’s probably a different issue.”

“There’s no harm in setting it as a goal,” Raine said. “You can’t control when you’ll see him next, but you can choose or not choose to talk to him about what troubles you.”

Percy winced. That much was true. “Yeah, I guess,” he said, trying to smile.

“What about educational goals?” she asked.

“Get my GED,” Percy said instantly. He tapped his feet together, thinking. “...Drop out?” He made a face and shook his head. “Talk to my parents about dropping out. And find out the application requirements of that university in New Rome.”

“Perfect,” Raine praised. “Goals related to your health?”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “Are we counting mental health in this?”

Raine shook her head. “That’s a different category.”

“Okay...” Percy dropped his chin to his arms, thinking. After a minute, he scowled. “Everything I can think of is stuff that’s happening ‘cause of my shitty mental health.”

“That’s fine.”

He relaxed a little. “I want to sleep more and throw up less,” he deadpanned, and then shrugged helplessly. “I really can’t think of anything else. Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Raine repeated, writing them down. “We can look into ways to handle those symptoms independently of their root cause. I’m glad to know that’s a priority for you. Are you losing weight?” Percy nodded, and Raine winced. “Then we’ll get right on that. Are you ready to move on?”

“Sure.”

“Leisure goals? Do you want to spend more time outside, learn something new...?”

“Huh.” Percy shifted, thinking about it. It was surprisingly hard to nudge his mind into thinking about things he did for fun. “I’d like to learn some new skateboarding tricks, I guess. Try a new video game.” He pushed himself up onto his elbows. Digging through old memories had reminded him- “Maybe take an art class or something. Drawing or painting.”

Raine smiled at him and copied those down. “Perfect. Lucas will be pleased. Spiritual goals?” Percy wrinkled his nose. “For our purposes, let’s say anything reflective. Meditation, dream journaling, exploring new religions.”

Percy frowned. “Is keeping a dream journal supposed to help nightmares?”

“It can.”

“I’ll try that, then,” Percy decided. “Still a big no on meditation.” Raine chuckled. “I’m gonna put praying to my dad here just for fun.” He grinned a little when Raine laughed. “Um, maybe practice drawing my feelings?”

“That works,” Raine said. “What about creative goals?” Percy made a face. “Yes, there’s some overlap, I’m afraid.”

Percy sighed, but crossed his legs and thought about it. “Make a big painting on canvas?" he suggested. "Um, maybe design an aquarium. Make something for camp. And, um, something for Annabeth." His cheeks turned pink.

"You’re doing great,” Raine encouraged. “This is the last one. Emotional and psychological goals?”

Percy grimaced. “I want to go an entire day without getting triggered,” he said, with more exhaustion than he’d meant to let show. “Go a week without a flashback. I want to be able to go back to sleep after a nightmare. Um, I want to be okay enough for Grover to repair our empathy link. And, uh, not be as anxious at night.”

“Very well done,” Raine praised. “Do you feel better after being able to set some goals?”

Percy considered. “Kind of. I like that most of them are things I’d do because I want to, not because I have to or because it’s healthy or something. No offense.”

“None taken,” Raine said. “Are you ready to start setting timeframes?” Percy nodded, and Raine shifted gears. “Which ones do you want to try in the next seven days?”

Chapter Text

“Percy Jackson!”

The uncharacteristic mix of anger and fear in Thalia’s voice made Percy jump, his heart beating like a rabbit’s as he looked around. He didn’t see anything of note, just Paul looking up from grading papers, so he found the Iris message to frown at it. Thalia looked incensed.

“You’re going back to St. Joan’s!” she said accusingly.

“Wha-” Heat flooded Percy’s face, and he scowled at her, shoving away his textbook to cross his arms. “Yeah, so what? What is your problem?”

Thalia blinked, looking abruptly disoriented, and most of the wind seemed to slip from her sails. “...Okay, good!”

Percy stared at her. “What the hell, Thalia?”

Thalia huffed, crossing her arms and brushing her hair out of her face. “I finally got to check on Jason today,” she said, looking calmer but no more pleased. “He told me what you said to him when you let yourself get poisoned, you asshole.”

“Are you kidding me?” Percy demanded. “Do Graces have an innate urge to tattle or something?”

“No, we just worry about our friends.” Jason nudged Thalia aside enough to make room for himself, and he looked so genuinely worried when he met Percy’s eyes that it was hard to stay angry. “I didn’t know you had a history, Percy. I would’ve done something sooner.”

“I don’t have a history,” Percy grumbled, sinking down in his seat in embarrassment. “I’ve said stuff before, is all.”

“That’s history enough,” Thalia snapped, making Percy wince as he remembered her reaction last time. “But it’s true? You’re really going back to St. Joan’s?”

“What’s St. Joan’s?” Jason asked.

“It’s this therapy school that’s run by a demigod and about half staffed by clearsighted folk,” Percy explained, slouching sullenly. “I spent a couple months there last year, right before Hera... you know. And yeah, Thalia, I’m going. I did learn stuff last time, like the fact that it’s bad to want to hurt yourself.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to go right away ‘cause I’ve been away from Mom so long, but I’m supposed to go next week, and I’m seeing Raine already.” He studied Thalia for a moment, and then added, softer, “I’m gonna be okay. Really. It’s not like last time when I thought I was right.”

The anger and fear seemed to fade completely, leaving only a low worry. “It better not be,” she grumbled. “You’re such a pain in my ass.”

“I didn’t realize you two were close,” Jason commented, looking between them curiously. “How’d that happen?”

“Annabeth,” Thalia said, at the same time that Percy said,

“Quest.”

They looked at each other, Thalia raised her eyebrows and Percy shrugged, and then back to Jason.

“Annabeth got kidnapped by Kronos’ forces a couple years ago,” Percy explained to Jason. “And Artemis just a few days later. We were on the same quest to rescue them, and we bonded then.” He smiled a little. “Thalia became a Hunter right afterward. I guess I forgot she joined the quest for Annabeth too.”

Jason looked delighted at this information. Percy made a mental note to tell him more stories about Thalia when he got the chance. “Seriously? You rescued a goddess and then decided you liked her so much you’d serve her for eternity?”

Thalia waved her hand dismissively. “I like her now, but at the time the decision didn’t have much to do with her at all. I just needed to escape the prophecy.”

“The prophecy?” Jason echoed curiously. Thalia and Percy stared at him. “What prophecy?”

“...You know,” Thalia said, drawing it out with confusion. “The prophecy. The last Great Prophecy.”

“No, I don’t know what prophecy,” Jason said. “I grew up in New Rome, remember? My camp went through different stuff than what yours did.”

“Okay, but...” Thalia trailed off, looking lost.

“Oh shit,” Percy said, sitting bolt upright. “Camp Jupiter doesn’t have an Oracle.”

Jason frowned. “Neither do you, at the moment,” he reminded Percy.

“Not the point,” Percy said. “You didn’t get the last Great Prophecy, did you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jason informed him.

It was hard for Percy to imagine. The prophecy had been a part of his life for so long, a massive weight hanging over him. It made up a big part of the unspoken understanding between Percy, Thalia, and Nico, even now that it had passed. It tied them together with the mere memory of that fear.

And Jason didn’t know about it.

Thalia had gone pale.

“Oh my gods,” she said. “If something had happened to Percy, it would have been you.”

“What?” Jason demanded, exasperated.

“The last Great Prophecy was given after World War II, and it came true last year,” Percy explained. “A half-blood of the eldest gods, shall reach sixteen against all odds, and see the world in endless sleep. The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap. A single choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze.”

“I hate that,” Jason said. Both Percy and Thalia nodded fervently.

“It’s horrible,” Thalia said. “That was the reason I joined Artemis – so that I would never turn sixteen, and that prophecy wouldn’t be about me.”

“I- what does it even mean?” Jason asked anxiously. “A half-blood of the eldest gods... Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto, I guess. So one of their kids turns sixteen...”

“And chooses whether or not to destroy Olympus, yeah,” Thalia agreed. “That was... well, Percy got the brunt of it in the end, but me and Nico both definitely felt the pressure. I guess being Roman kept you away from it.”

Jason muttered a curse under his breath. “You had that hanging over your head?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Thalia said. “Only for about six months – I became a Hunter around that long after I fell out of the tree.” She tilted her head toward Percy. With a sweet, unexpected honesty that Percy suspected was just for Jason, she added, “I... kind of figured that Percy was more likely to make the right choice than I was. So I bowed out.”

“That’s a horrific decision to have to make,” Jason said.

“It was the right choice,” Thalia said, with unwavering confidence.

Jason looked from Thalia to Percy, eyebrows knitting together. Percy started to wonder what he was thinking, and then he spoke to Percy. “The way people talk about you, man... I wish I could earn that much respect.”

Percy’s cheeks heated up. “You did. Your camp adores you, remember? They made you lord priest and everything.”

Thalia gave Jason a proud noogie. Jason squawked, but when she let him up, he was smiling.

“So you did it, then?” Jason asked, trying to straighten his hair. Thalia fluffed it up again, and Jason elbowed her. “You made the choice?”

“Behold, the reason I needed emergency therapy last year,” Percy said dryly. “Yeah. It would’ve been around the same time you were fighting Krios. The day Kronos fell- that was my birthday.”

Jason shook his head, disbelieving. “That’s... I can’t believe how much they managed to hide from us.”

“To be honest, I’m glad we didn’t know,” Percy said. “If I’d been worrying about Kronos’ throne as well as Kronos, I would’ve given myself a heart attack.”

“I don’t blame you.” Jason looked at Thalia. “So basically, you two bonded over Annabeth and the weight of the world?”

Thalia snorted. “I guess we did. And there was Persephone’s quest, where Percy dropped the Lethe on himself.”

Right. Where Percy had destroyed Bob’s memory – where Percy had fought him like any other monster, dunked him in the Lethe, and given him the first stupid name Percy could think of. What had been a clever way to win a fight had turned into an ally that Percy hadn’t expected and didn’t deserve.

Bob deserved better.

“Percy? You good?”

Percy blinked, and took a moment to focus on Jason’s concerned face.

“Yeah, sorry,” Percy managed after a moment. He looked at Thalia. “Annabeth and I ran into Bob. Ask about it, um, not right now.” He scratched the back of his head with a strained smile. “After a month or two, maybe.”

Thalia raised her eyebrows, looking concerned. “Okay?” She frowned. “Man. I’d forgotten about Bob.”

“Y-yeah,” Percy agreed, throat tightening.

Jason leaned over and murmured something into Thalia’s ear. Thalia stiffened, going dead pale, and didn’t relax as Jason pulled back apologetically.

“Yeah,” Percy repeated, softer.

Thalia exhaled slowly. “No wonder you regressed,” she muttered. “Just, don’t forget, if you do anything stupid, I’m gonna go hunt down your soul in the Underworld and punish you myself.”

Percy laughed raggedly. “Yeah, I got you,” he said, with maybe more warmth than the words deserved. “Thanks for checking on me.”

They had the last appointment before he left while Percy was drawing at his desk, steadily working through the events he’d picked out over the last few weeks.

“Have you had any luck identifying any of your triggers?” Raine asked him.

“Some of them,” Percy said, roughly blackening the whole of the paper under his hands. “Mom and Paul have been helping a lot.”

“Do you feel comfortable telling me about them?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Percy said, glancing up. Raine was leaning on her desk, watching him attentively, and gave him a nod when their eyes met. Percy looked back down. “Um, I’m afraid of the dark now. I’ve been sleeping with the lights on, and I had a really bad flashback when the power went out one time.”

“How does the dark affect you when you’re not surprised by it?” Raine asked.

“It kind of builds,” Percy muttered, scowling down at the shadowed paper. “I get really nervous, and sometimes it gets bad enough that I start panting even if I’m just lying in bed. If I can’t calm down, I start seeing things in the shadows – Nyx’s children, mostly, but other monsters too.” He shrugged helplessly. “I, I know they’re not there. But as soon as the lights are out, I’m like, but what if they are?”

Raine nodded. “It’ll take time for you to regain your sense of safety. What others have you noticed?”

“There’s something about food,” Percy scowled. “I can’t figure out what it is, but I’ve had way too many issues with mealtimes to explain otherwise.”

“You’re certain that it’s not your general stress nausea?”

“Pretty sure,” Percy said. “I smell sulfur almost every time.”

“What’s the significance of sulfur?”

Percy paused, then shoved the blackened paper into the finished pile and grabbed a new sheet. “The air in Tartarus was acid,” he said at last. “Sulfur. Annabeth and I had rashes and blisters afterward, and that’s nothing on what my throat felt like for weeks.” Even ambrosia and nectar hadn’t helped with that.

Raine’s hand closed, then opened on her desk. “...Is the issue acidic food?” she asked. “Lemonade, tomato sauce, pineapple?”

“I didn’t think about that,” Percy admitted. “I actually didn’t write down most of what I was eating during those episodes. Stupid.” He sighed. “Damn it. Uh, it didn’t occur to me that specific foods might set it off. I’ll fix that.” He dropped his forehead to his desk. “I thought I kicked that habit!”

“You did very well,” Raine reassured him softly. “And I’m sure you would have continued to do well if your priorities hadn’t been forcefully rearranged. It’s okay. You’ll get that progress back.”

Percy sighed, and then sat up and started working on the next picture. Akhlys and her poison. “Yeah. I hope so. Uh, spray bottles. You know the kind you use for cleaners? Spray bottles and mops get me every time, which is super embarrassing.”

“It’s funny what our minds can latch onto during trauma,” Raine agreed. Percy relaxed a little. “How do you react to them?”

“It kind of varies,” Percy admitted. “Most of the time I just start crying. They, uh, they make me think of Bob, the titan that helped us in Tartarus.” Raine frowned, and Percy tried to smile. “Yeah, I know, there wasn’t originally a titan named Bob. It’s... it’s Iapetus. I never told you that story. I’ll get around to it.”

“When you’re ready,” she agreed. “How else might you react?”

“Sometimes I get mad,” Percy said. “I kicked a mop bucket down a hall last week. Uh, an empty mop bucket, but still. And sometimes I just feel like garbage. Like, it makes me remember how much I hate myself.”

Raine made a note.

“I know,” Percy sighed. “It’s... damn it. Um, weird.”

“Many triggers look strange to outsiders,” Raine said calmly. “But this one appears to be an especially intense one for you, so I wanted to make a note to spend particular time on it.”

Percy didn’t know whether to be more embarrassed or grateful. “Oh, okay.”

“Would you prefer if I recorded these sessions and took my notes later?” Raine asked, concerned. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Percy shook his head. “I kinda like knowing when something stands out to you. I’d probably worry more if I didn’t know.” He fidgeted with the pencil, then got back to work. Akhlys was ugly. He shoved the half-finished picture out of the way and started drawing Bob instead. Mostly his mop and spray bottle. “There’s the biology thing. It’s, um, mostly the heart, really, little bit the lungs and the blood.” He shuddered. “Brings me right back to the heart of Tartarus and then I can’t stop thinking about it until I drive myself nuts.”

“Is it primarily a fear response?” Raine asked. Percy nodded. “Anything secondary?”

Percy shrugged. “Disgust, I guess. But it’s mostly the fear.”

Raine nodded. “Any others?”

Percy frowned down. “Not that I’m sure of. I’m pretty sure I’m still missing at least a couple, though, ‘cause there’ve been episodes that none of these can explain.”

“It’ll take time to identify them all,” Raine said. “You’ve done very well to figure out as many as you have in so little time. How are you doing with the pictures for your trauma box?”

“Pretty good,” Percy said decisively, tilting up the edge of the stack to show her. “I’ve had to take breaks from drawing a couple of them, but I think the only ones of those I have left are Akhlys and Bob. And that’s at least half because I hate drawing people.”

“You can draw a shadow figure if you want,” Raine said. “What matters is that you recognize it.”

Percy smiled a little, thinking of Bob as a play-doh blob with a mop and spray bottle. “Okay.”

“And your self-soothing box?” Raine asked.

“Mom helped me pack it,” Percy said. “It’s mostly ready to go, except for the stuff I use a lot. Fang and the fidget spinner and things like that. My duffle bag too.”

“Very good. Have you made a decision about medication yet?”

Percy dropped the pencil and hugged himself, unhappy and uncomfortable. Soon after the goal-setting conversation, Raine had brought this up. She’d recommended a prescription that was supposed to combine anti-anxiety and anti-nausea medications. If he agreed, he’d probably take it all through his stay at St. Joan’s and maybe for a few weeks after.

“Can’t I just take the anti-nausea?” he asked the wall.

“You can,” Raine said gently, “but your anxiety and stress are the primary causes of your vomiting. They’ll be more effective in combination.”

Percy’s throat was sore. He’d been vomiting most nights and frequent days for more than two months now. “Annabeth isn’t throwing up from stress.”

“People’s bodies react differently to stress,” Raine reminded him. “I expect there are other symptoms that she is experiencing that you aren’t.”

Well... yeah. Annabeth had been getting stress headaches and joint pain that he hadn’t. “...I can stop whenever, right? I don’t have to take it even if I say yes?”

“I’d prefer that you let me know if you decide to stop, so that I can keep an eye on your mood,” Raine told him, “but yes, you can stop at any time.”

He lowered his head. For some reason, it felt like admitting defeat. “Okay. I’ll try it. Thanks.”

“Hey,” Percy said to the group, pressed back against the furthest corner with his knees pulled up. “I’m Percy. I’m dyslexic and ADHD, and now also PTSD I guess. I did a stint here last year, but then more stuff happened and now I’m all fucked up again, so I’m back. Don’t yell at me, don’t sneak up on me, and really don’t startle me for fun.”

He briefly missed camp. Throwing a startled punch at someone there just resulted in a playful wrestling match, and everyone did it at least once. He wouldn’t be that lucky here.

“Yikes, bro,” said one of the girls, and then did a mock salute at him, accidentally revealing some thin scars across the width of her arm – looked relatively fresh. He smiled wryly.

“Hello, Percy,” Cassia said with warmth, though it didn’t hide the concern in her eyes. “I’m sorry that things haven’t been going well for you, but you were a pleasure to have here last time, and I’m sure that won’t change.”

He flashed her a weary smile, folded his arms around his knees, and leaned on them, watching the others as they took their turns.

“I’m Amethyst,” offered a different girl, the one with dramatic eyeliner and hair that had definitely been dyed that shade of black. “Ex-Catholic, fuck the system, I don’t for a second believe you’re as basic as you look.”

Percy couldn’t help it. He laughed. Amethyst flashed him a smirk back, then leaned against the wall behind her.

“Ruya,” the next girl said softly, curled up almost as tight as Percy. A hijab was wrapped around her head and neck.

“Sofia,” said a third, waving one hand casually. “Hate dresses, love cars, remind me to teach you how to change a tire if you don’t know already.” Also clearsighted, if Percy remembered right.

“My name’s Abel, I’m Sofia’s spiritual opposite,” one of the two boys said, fiddling awkwardly with a clip in his hair. “Hate sports, love needlework, please don’t ask me to play sports with you, I’d die.”

Percy flashed him a thumbs up, smiling despite himself.

“Lucille, call me Lucy,” said the next girl, a plump one with short, cute hair. She smiled at him nervously. “Christian-raised.” Amethyst rolled her eyes. “Also lesbian. You see why I’m here.” Percy winced in sympathy.

“I’m Mike,” added the other boy. Wearing a letterman jacket even away from school, Percy noted. “I’m dyslexic too. I’d like to play sports with you, but I’m not allowed to keep score for therapy reasons.” Clearsighted number two.

Percy granted him a smile. “That’s cool, casual games are fun too.”

That left the girl who’d spoken first, who smiled at him sheepishly when he looked at her.

“Oh, Violetta,” she said flippantly. “I’m usually in the art house when we have free time, good luck getting me out of there, but I like company.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Cassia said. “Today’s icebreaker is going to be a bit of a surprise. I’ll pass around a roll of toilet paper, and each of you can tear off however many pieces you like.”

She received a few vague sounds of agreement, and turned away to retrieve a toilet paper roll from where she’d stowed it on a shelf, just out of easy sight. She presented it to Lucy, who frowned at it for a moment before neatly tearing off three pieces and passing it along.

Ruya took four pieces. Mike tore off a handful without looking. Percy watched the roll progress around the room, sometimes being tossed between people too far apart, and caught it when it reached him. Thinking of the shitty toilet paper Mr. D had picked out for Camp Half-Blood, Percy grabbed a pretty big handful and tossed it to Cassia, whose eyes were glittering with foreboding amusement.

“Thank you, Percy,” Cassia said, tucking the toilet roll away. “We won’t really need the toilet paper for anything, but it’s a fun way of getting everyone to pick a number without telling them why. What we’ll be doing next is going around the room, and each of you will tell one personal fact about yourself for each square of tissue you took.”

Percy looked down. “Argh,” he said. “I’m being punished for my summer camp’s bad toilet paper.” A few of the others laughed at him.

Cassia chuckled too. “I won’t make you do it all at once,” she said. “But you need to take turns until you’ve placed every square of toilet paper in front of you. Who’s willing to start?”

The others glanced at each other ruefully, and a few seconds of awkward quiet passed before Percy sighed and tore off a square to put in front of him.

“May as well get started,” he said wryly, earning a few laughs from the others. To Cassia, he asked, “Uh, on a scale of party tricks to trauma, how serious do you want these to be?”

Cassia gave him a grateful smile. “As serious as you’re comfortable with,” she said. “Things you would tell someone trying to get to know you as more than a casual acquaintance. That you were very close to your grandmother, or that you don’t want people to make fun of certain things.”

Percy snorted. “Thanks for the hint,” he said. Cassia smiled unapologetically. “Alright, exposition the first: I don’t like people making jokes about my intelligence.”

Mike raised a hand. “Question, are we not supposed to call you dumb, or are we not supposed to tease you about being smart?” He shrugged sheepishly at Percy’s confused glower. “It’s a genuine question! I’ve heard people do both.”

Percy let his hackles fall. Yeah, okay, they teased Annabeth for being smart often enough. “Uh, I meant don’t call me dumb, but I’m not really comfortable with the other one either.” Frankly, he’d probably still assume they were calling him dumb.

Mike made finger guns, then moved one to point at Amethyst. “You’re up, girl.”

They went around the circle, and despite the new faces, it was comfortingly familiar. Amethyst was gay. Ruya lived with her grandmother. Sofia still wore dresses to funerals, but not weddings. Abel had an identical twin. And so on.

Percy kind of had fun choosing what he wanted to share too. He told them that he lived with his mother and stepfather, that he’d gone to a lot of private schools, that he was counselor at a summer camp that he adored. He said that he was afraid of drowning, and that he’d been in a coma for a few months. He explained the medication Raine had put him on to make him stop stress-vomiting, which saved him an explanation later, since he’d be taking it at mealtimes.

“Dude, how stressed do you have to be to regularly throw up from it?” Sofia demanded.

“If I tried to answer that, I’d probably throw up again,” Percy told her.

For obvious reasons, each of them ran through their toilet paper at different rates. Lucy and Ruya were done quickly, but the last few rounds were just Mike and Percy going back and forth, and then just Percy for a couple. It was embarrassing, but fun, for the most part.

“Aaaand my parents met at the beach,” Percy announced, dropping his last square into the pile. “Done!” Some of the others golf-clapped, so Percy did a mock bow.

“Thank you, you all did very well,” Cassia praised. “I’ll have to include a lesson on self-care and medication soon – I didn’t realize so many of you needed them.” In addition to Percy, Sofia took painkillers for severe cramps, Lucy was on an antidepressant, and Abel was on some medication for seizures. “We have some time still, so why don’t you all pick out some board games and play for the rest of the block?”

Percy smiled a little. Board game days weren’t super common, reserved for new members, but they were fun. “Nothing with reading! Anyone up for Uno?”

“New kid gets first pick,” Mike said. “But after that- Mouse Trap?”

Percy grinned.

Chapter Text

“Is it okay if I get right into Tartarus?” Percy asked hesitantly, hovering by the open trauma box. “I know that’s kind of a lot right away.”

“It’s alright, I thought you might want to,” Raine reassured him. “As long as you feel ready for it, you can. This is a safe place for you to process what happened.”

Percy tried to relax, bouncing a little to try and psych himself up for it. “Okay. Okay.” He took out a drawing, grabbed Fang off the floor, and sat down, bracing his heels on the edge of his seat. Then he chuckled nervously, not quite looking at Raine. “Ahh, I’ve been thinking about how to say this stuff, but now I can’t remember what I decided on.”

“Relax,” Raine said. “This isn’t a performance, and there isn’t a wrong way to talk about it. Tell me what happened, and I’ll guide you through the feelings part.”

Percy nodded jerkily, hugged himself, let go, and bounced again, feeling skittish. Then he took a deep breath, ran the tension exercise he’d half-forgotten, and forced himself to relax.

“I debated a little bit on what to use for this part,” Percy admitted, tilting the picture up for Raine to see. “I, um, I kind of chopped Tartarus into really, really tiny pieces, because I really definitely can’t handle going through it all at once.”

“I’m glad that you were able to realize that on your own,” Raine told him, “and it’s impressive that you’ve managed to divide it into parts that feel right to you. Can you tell me what the picture is?”

Percy tried to smile. “It’s the Phlegethon,” he said quietly. “Uh, one of the Underworld rivers.” He worried at the edge of the paper, then put it down and picked Fang up instead. “Um, a lot of the Tartarus stuff is probably gonna be out of order, ‘cause I figure I’ll just be going with what feels right. But I wanted to start at the beginning, ‘cause the landscape of Tartarus is like... really important to how horrible everything else was.”

“The air was acid, you said,” Raine recalled quietly.

Percy smiled bitterly. “The acid air. Yeah. That’s the biggest part of it, but not the whole story.” Raine nodded, so Percy took another deep breath and started. “When Annabeth and I fell into Tartarus, we were in Rome, because we needed to retrieve the Athena Parthenos. Which, um, is a really complicated story, can I please explain it later?”

Raine nodded again, making a note. “Of course, by all means.”

Percy exhaled. “Cool. Annabeth had kind of been tasked with finding it, so we met up where she found it. But, uh, where she found it was in Arachne’s lair, and the floor was collapsing.” He played with Fang’s tail. “Arachne was still alive, and Annabeth was injured, so I went to help her. We knocked Arachne into Tartarus and started rigging up the Athena Parthenos to take it on the Argo, but then...” He grimaced, staring at the floor. “Um, it all happened pretty fast, but basically Arachne had gotten a thread around Annabeth’s ankle, and she was getting dragged in. I caught her hand, but I wasn’t gonna be able to hold us both for long.”

“So what did you do?”

“I let go,” Percy said. “Um, earlier that day we’d rescued Nico, and he had some intel for us. He said that we needed to close the Doors of Death from both sides simultaneously – up in the mortal world, and down in Tartarus.” He smiled dryly. “So I figured, hey, in some awful, fucked-up way, this works out. I told him to meet us there, let go, and Annabeth and I fell into Tartarus.”

Note. “And then?”

“It’s a really, really long way from Earth to the bottom of Tartarus,” Percy said ruefully. “Felt like we were falling for an hour, but Annabeth thought it took about ten minutes. Anyway, we didn’t want to go splat, so Annabeth found a river for me to catch us with, and we did.” He grimaced.

“I take it that it was not an ordinary river.”

“No,” Percy said. “Underworld rivers fucking suck. Um, this is where I’m gonna start getting into the technical stuff, sorry.” Raine waved him on. “There are five Underworld rivers. I’d come across two of them, the Styx and the Lethe, before, but the other three were new: the Cocytus, the Phlegethon, and the Acheron. The rivers of lamentation, fire, and pain.” Raine winced. “I know, right? They suck. Anyway, we fell into the Cocytus, the river of lamentation.”

“And what does that river do?”

“It’s liquid misery,” Percy said bitterly. “You can imagine how well I did with that. Annabeth had to basically drag me out, or I would’ve just sunk to the bottom and found out if I could breathe in the Cocytus.”

“But you did get out,” Raine prompted.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me and Annabeth crawled out of the river onto a bed of broken glass. We had maybe five minutes to deal with the fact that we were in Tartarus before Annabeth realized that we were dying pretty fast – I mean, by the time we’d gotten out of the river, we were already covered in rashes from the stupid sulfur.” Percy fidgeted with Fang’s tail some more, then picked him up to hug for comfort. “Annabeth’s basically an expert on obscure legends, so she figured our only chance was the Phlegethon, the river of fire, which she thought might heal us. And it worked.”

“And then?”

“No ‘and then’ right now,” Percy said quietly. “That... most of our time in Tartarus was just that. It was me and Annabeth, walking along the Phlegethon, breathing sulfur and drinking from it whenever it got too hard to breathe.” Fidget, fidget. “I just... I started here because I wanted you to understand. Every single other awful thing that happened in Tartarus, this was part of it. We were getting rashes, getting blisters, seeing how many breaths of sulfur we could take before it hurt too much to handle. Coming out of it, I drank more nectar than I’ve ever had at once before, trying to heal those burns. Me and Annabeth nearly finished a whole flask between us.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Raine asked, brow furrowed.

“It hurt to breathe,” Percy explained. Raine’s expression closed off.

“Alright,” she said quietly, and glanced at her notebook. “How did you feel while you were going to meet Annabeth?”

“Kind of frantic,” Percy said. “Bacchus had hinted that she was in trouble, and I hadn’t really wanted to let her go alone in the first place. But it, uh, it was a child of Athena thing, this quest. Annabeth had to go alone. I was really worried, though.”

“And when you found her?” Raine prompted.

“Relieved,” he said. “I mean, she was hurt and in trouble and everything, but I could help with that. The important thing is...” He hesitated, blushed, and decided against explaining the promise he and Annabeth had made to each other. “The important thing was that she was where I could help her.” Raine’s brow furrowed. “Um, me and Annabeth said sappy stuff, but I don’t want to get into it.”

Raine relaxed and chuckled softly. “Understood. What were you thinking as you started to fall?”

“Just that,” Percy said, quieter now. “I wasn’t going to let us get separated. Not for anything.” He squirmed, adjusting Fang’s position, and tucked one leg under him to sit. “I... at this point, Annabeth and I had been back together for like, a week. I’d missed her like my right arm while I was with the Romans, especially with Lupa, when there wasn’t much to worry about. I couldn’t let her fall alone.”

“So you let go,” Raine said, serious again. Percy shivered.

“If I’d known what was waiting for us, I don’t know if I could’ve done it,” he confessed. “I mean, w-we had to, to close the Doors of Death and stuff. But...” He squeezed, buried his face in his stuffed toy, and took a couple of breaths before he looked up again. “Letting go should’ve been the scariest thing I’ve ever done. But it wasn’t – I was more scared going into the Styx. I... I wasn’t scared enough.”

“Why does that matter?” Raine asked gently. “Would something have changed if you had been more scared going in?”

“...Nothing,” Percy conceded. “But... I dunno. I keep thinking about that. I, I had no idea how bad it was gonna be. I knew it would be bad, but Tartarus was- shit. Even I couldn’t have dreamed up something that awful. I could’ve heard every story there was to hear about Tartarus and I still wouldn’t have known how bad it was.”

“One of the most frightening things about severe trauma is that it rarely comes with warning,” Raine agreed solemnly. “You truly had no way to know what was coming – and that’s not your fault. Sometimes, bad things simply happen.”

Percy laughed, shaky and rough. “This was a really, really bad thing to just happen.”

“It was,” Raine agreed softly. When she didn’t elaborate, Percy looked away. His shoulders slumped a little as he turned the conversation over, and then he sighed.

“I wasn’t thinking much on the way down,” Percy said at last. “Believe it or not, it’s pretty hard to think coherently when you’re falling from unimaginable heights. I don’t know how Annabeth managed it.” He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to the soft toy. “Controlling water is usually pretty easy for me. These days I hardly ever notice the effort. But the Cocytus... it was heavier than the Lethe, and I was already ridiculously tired. It felt like I was controlling a river of lead.”

“And you landed safely,” Raine said. Percy snorted.

“I don’t know if I’d call landing in the Cocytus a safe landing,” he said. He looked away again. “It was, uh, it was bad for me. I can admit that. It whispers to you, you know? And it’s so cold. It felt like ice was forming on my bones. You can hear a million people sobbing their hearts out, and they tell you why you should too. As soon as I hit the water, I... I forgot that I had any reason to want to live. That anyone did. I stopped swimming because, because I was tired, and homesick, and sad and there wasn’t any point anymore. Why would I bother?”

“Percy.”

Percy stopped talking, but he didn’t respond either, eyes fixed on the carpet.

“Tell me five things you can see,” Raine said. Percy blinked sleepily at the floor, then lifted his head and looked around. Oh. He felt...

“Um,” he said.

“You’re in my office,” Raine said calmly. “You’re telling me a story, but you’re not there anymore. Can you tell me what you see in my office?”

“In your...” Percy trailed off and looked around, and after a few more moments, his vision snapped into focus. “Your bookshelf, your notebooks. Um. Your new little plant in the corner. The toys on your desk. And... y-your computer?” He blinked again, then shifted his gaze back to Raine. “Sorry. I should’ve been watching for that.”

“It’s alright,” she said gently. “It’s my job to keep an eye out for it. Can you tell me four things you can feel?”

She walked him through until he felt more settled, and then Percy took a deep breath. He hugged Fang tightly and watched Raine’s desk.

“Annabeth definitely saved me there,” he said belatedly. “I, I guess she remembered how excited I’d been about New Rome, so she asked me about it. Like, what I wanted to do there and stuff.” He smiled a little. “It helped a lot. Got me going, at least, and Annabeth was able to pull us both out.” He tapped Fang’s belly, and then added, “I made Annabeth laugh while we were in there. That made me happy.”

“That’s good,” Raine said. “How do you feel about it now? The experience, not the memory of the river.”

Percy frowned, trying to shift his perspective enough to examine it from the angle offered. “Um... Mostly just frightened. I- man. We almost died a lot down there, but that- that was one of the really close calls. Thank the gods for Annabeth.”

“And you talked?”

“That’s a generous word for it,” he said wryly. “Annabeth said we needed to move or we’d catch hypothermia, and I pointed out that the car we’d crashed into Arachne wasn’t far off.” He fiddled with Fang’s tail again, stroking the material between his fingers. “I was... gearing up for another hard battle, I guess. You know when you have a really long day ahead of you, and you know it? Like that.” He shrugged. “But I haven’t run into anything that me and Annabeth can’t survive if we’re together.”

“These woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep,” Raine murmured. Percy cocked his head, and Raine smiled at him. “Robert Frost – it’s a very old poem.”

“And miles to go before I sleep,” Percy echoed, leaning against the chair back. He made a mental note to mention it to Annabeth. She’d probably know more about it.

Warmth flashed across Raine’s face before she pushed forward. “And then Annabeth realized the area was harming you.”

“No,” Percy said firmly. “We were dying. I’m not just being pessimistic this time. Every breath was harder than the last. Our cuts bled more instead of less. I was freezing cold and not getting any warmer even though the air was so hot it hurt. Tartarus doesn’t want anything except to kill you as painfully as possible.”

“Tartarus is a place, Percy,” Raine said gently. “It’s not acting maliciously against you, even if it feels like it is.”

...Well, of course she would say that. Any sane person would.

Percy ducked his head, feeling his eyes burn and tears well up, and muffled a whimper against his fist. His next breath hitched, and a few tears escaped before he got the wave of emotion under control.

“Tartarus is a primordial,” he said at last, distant and hoarse. “He’s so old that most things weren’t really distinct from each other yet. It’s- it’s not like Dad, where he’s the lord of the ocean. The pit is Tartarus and Tartarus is the pit. The air down there is his breath. The heart of Tartarus beats when you walk on it. The Underworld rivers run into his veins. Monsters grow under his skin and crawl out fully formed. Every horror in that place is one of his dreams. The, the ground is, it feels like-”

His stomach lurched, and he gagged, clapping a hand over his mouth. Raine kept her trash can beside her desk, and he knocked his chair over in his haste to reach it. Raine shoved it toward him, and Percy hit the floor with a thump, leaned on the rim, and vomited. He hadn’t eaten much that morning, and his stomach twisted and clenched in protest.

After a minute of trying to catch his breath, he realized Raine was kneeling beside him, shushing him and rubbing his back. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m sorry, I understand now. It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.”

Percy caught his breath and tried to smile at her. His mouth tasted like bile. “You get why I can’t take biology this year,” he joked weakly. He felt shaky. “Sorry, I- this is really intense stuff to start with, huh?”

“It’s alright,” Raine said. “I can tell it’s been troubling you, and you needed to get it out. It’s fortunate that you trust me enough to do so as soon as possible.”

Percy shuddered, listing heavily against the plastic wastebin, and then stood up to return to his chair and put Fang in his lap. For a moment, he just crossed his arms on the back of the chair and put his head down, breathing heavily.

“Do you want to call it for the morning?” Raine asked softly. “It’s been very stressful for you.”

“No, I- no. I’m almost done.” He took another breath. “Thought I wasn’t supposed to be doing that anymore.”

“The medication will take a while to settle fully into your system,” Raine said apologetically. “If it’s still happening in another week, we’ll try something else.”

Percy nodded absently, and then took a deep breath and straightened up. “So. Annabeth realized we were dying. I was freaked out – more than I was letting her see, honestly – but I wasn’t gonna give up until Annabeth was, because I was pretty sure she’d figure something out.” He smiled faintly, though exhaustion still weighed down his shoulders. “And she did. She remembered that the Phlegethon, uh, it’s used to make sure people can live through the punishments in the Fields. You know, the wheel of fire and being boiled in oil and all that. So she thought it might heal us like nectar and ambrosia does.” He tapped the back of the chair. “We kind of had to race there, which really sucked, since that involved getting down a cliff. By the time we got there, Annabeth was limping again, and both of us were starting to blister. I could barely breathe ‘cause my throat and lungs hurt so bad.”

“And then you drank from the river,” Raine said. Percy huffed a laugh.

“Yeah. I mean, at first I was just staring at it like ‘how the hell are we supposed to drink that,’ because the river of fire isn’t just a name – it flows with actual liquid fire. But Annabeth just... sticks her hands in there and scoops it up.” He fell quiet for a minute. “I, um, I really thought that was it, at first. She choked and shrieked and thrashed around for a minute, and I thought it had hurt her. I was terrified. But then she calmed down, and the blisters started going away.”

“How did you feel then?”

“I didn’t,” Percy admitted, watching the desk again. His stomach was still churning, and he gritted his teeth against it for a minute before continuing. “By that point, I was starting to see black spots, and my head was pounding, never mind how much my whole body burned.” He shrugged. “I didn’t get a chance for second thoughts. I passed out, and when I woke up, Annabeth was pouring firewater down my throat.”

“What did you think of that?”

“It was gross,” Percy said without looking at her. “All spice, no flavor.” He smiled bitterly, then laughed a little, picked Fang up again, and hugged the soft toy just to remind himself it was there. “But that river... have you ever imagined what it would feel like for your head to do that thing, where you drop water on a hot stove and it boils instantly?”

“Well, now I have,” Raine said, and Percy snorted and grinned a little.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “That was what drinking the firewater felt like. And Raine, it didn’t get better. Every twenty, thirty minutes, it would get so hard to breathe that the firewater sounded okay, and we’d sit down and drink and remember how fucking horrible it was. I couldn’t tell if my throat was sore from the sulfur or the screaming. And then we’d have to get back up and keep walking.”

“How do you feel about that now?”

Percy tucked his head into the crook of his elbow. “You mean besides the frequent urge to wallow in self-pity?”

“Especially that, actually,” Raine said, giving him a rueful smile. Percy managed to return it and pushed himself up again.

“We shouldn’t have had to do that,” he said quietly. “It’s, it’s practically comical that we had to do that. Annabeth and I are seventeen. We’re mortal, we have to eat and drink, our bodies break and bleed. Why were we in Tartarus? Why- how did this become our responsibility?”

His voice broke, and he shifted Fang up into a more comfortable position to squeeze him tightly. Raine stayed quiet and solemn.

“The Greek/Roman fight knocked out a lot of the gods, but not all of them,” Percy continued recklessly, his voice starting to strain and warp around the words as tears welled up and spilled over. “Bacchus was basically fine. Nemesis, too. Nike probably could’ve pulled herself together enough to do something. There was Thanatos, there was Cupid, there was Janus, there was fucking Hercules- it didn’t even have to be an Olympian, it could’ve been any minor god. Any god. Why couldn’t they close the Doors?” A sob broke free, probably the first of a whole lot of them. “Why are they so fucking awful?”

He put his head down and cried. It had been a long time coming, to be honest, and it felt good to vent the anger and fear and hurt that had built to a boil inside him. Raine stayed quiet while he did, letting the hysteria drain out of him, and eventually he caught his breath.

“Tartarus is a horrible place for anyone,” he said to Raine, his voice still hoarse and throaty. “But a god wouldn’t have had to worry about monsters. A god wouldn’t have had to drink firewater so the air wouldn’t kill them. A god would have had more than one way out of that stupid pit.” He hid his face in Fang, shaking. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair.”

“You resent that your suffering wasn’t necessary,” Raine said quietly. Percy sniffled.

“They could have stopped it,” he croaked. “They could have helped us, they could have- could have saved us from this. But they don’t care about us. They don’t care that we helped them. They, they’re going to use us until we die and then they’ll forget about us.”

Raine was quiet for a moment. Percy didn’t look up until he heard a soft rustle, and then she was kneeling down beside him. He accepted the offered hug with relief, and hugged her back tightly until he stopped trembling.

“You can’t force people to love you, Percy,” Raine said quietly, when she pulled away. She stayed close, kneeling next to him, mouth pulled into a serious line. “You can be the kindest, or the bravest, or the most noble person in the world, and it won’t be enough to make them care. Some people just don’t have it in them.” She took one of his hands and squeezed it. “That’s not your fault. You can’t control their feelings.”

“But then what am I supposed to do?” Percy asked. “I- we’ve done so much for them. All of this... all of this was to stop their stupid butts from getting eaten by Gaea. And they don’t care.”

“It doesn’t have to be about that, if you don’t want it to be,” Raine said. Despite himself, Percy gave her a dirty, sullen look. “Really. How many people did you save with this quest?”

Everyone. They had saved the world with this quest, again.

Raine read his answer in his expression.

“So maybe you didn’t do it for the gods,” she said gently. “Maybe you did it for your mother. For Paul. All the children you help at your summer camp, the friends you made last time you were here, the little sibling you’re hoping for. The gods benefited, but it doesn’t have to be about them if that hurts you.”

There was the feeling Percy had been searching for – a swell of relief that bloomed inside him, like he’d dropped a weight from around his heart. It brought tears to his eyes, but he didn’t cry this time, just wiped them away.

“They still should have done better,” he muttered.

“Yes,” Raine agreed. “But you can take that pain and move it to somewhere it doesn’t hurt so much.”

Chapter Text

“I’ve been thinking about yesterday,” Percy said. They were out again today, walking down the footpath under the cloud cover. “Why did I need to tell you that stuff so bad? It felt like I was gonna explode if I didn’t, but I don’t get why.”

“Humans are social creatures,” Raine explained, keeping pace with him. “On a subconscious level, talking to someone and seeing how they react helps you measure your own reactions against theirs. That’s a part of why therapists are trained to maintain composure. If you tell me what happened, and I seem calm, that helps you instinctively understand that the danger has passed.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Is that it? That’s why I had to tell you all the awful stuff?”

“It’s a big part of it,” Raine said. “It also helps to unlock a sort of tension trap in your mind. If you’re not telling people something because you can’t tell them, that’s out of your control, and it makes you tense. Choosing to tell someone relieves some of that pressure.”

“Like Chinese handcuffs,” Percy said, smiling a little at the memory of Frank’s indignation. Raine smiled at him.

“There are a lot of times where a mind works like a finger trap, yes,” she said.

Percy put his hands in his pockets, satisfied. “Cool. I just, uh, I wanted to know ‘cause I thought it was weird that I needed to start with that stuff.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I... kinda wanted to talk about the whole kidnapping thing.”

“Of course, by all means,” Raine said. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Juno took me and Jason and made us switch camps for a bit,” Percy explained, scowling. “Jason managed to end up in Camp Half-Blood only a few days later, but for some godforsaken reason, Juno kept me in a coma from December all the way to like, April. She told me she thought I’d be inconvenient to have around.” Resentment coated his voice. Raine nodded her understanding. “I woke up at the Wolf House without any memory, and Lupa trained me for a few weeks before she sent me on to the Roman camp. I was there for about a day before we got sent out to rescue Thanatos.”

Raine nodded again, and then pointed out mildly, “Six months is a long time to lose.”

Percy snorted, bitterness and pain coming through the sound. “Isn’t it? I’m still trying to wrap my head just around that. Six months on a goddess’ whim. That’s... that was a whole school year, and a Christmas, and New Years and my mom’s birthday. Hell, I’d just gotten back from my last visit to St. Joan’s, and I... I was enjoying being home, and, and working on all that stuff we talked about.” He took his hands from his pockets to hug himself, scowling at the ground. “I, I felt good about myself and my life and everything. And then I blinked and I was on the worst quest I’ve ever gone on.”

“Your guard was down,” Raine said quietly. Percy scowled harder.

“Stupid,” he muttered. “I’m a demigod. I don’t get to have my guard down.”

“What would have changed if your guard had been up?” Raine asked. Percy glanced at her, confused and frustrated.

“I wouldn’t have been caught by surprise,” he said after a moment. “If... if I’d been expecting things to go bad, it wouldn’t have hurt so much when they did.”

“So,” Raine said, “you don’t think that you should have been so happy?”

Percy’s retort caught in his throat, and he scowled again, caught between the obvious right answer and what his gut was insisting.

“...It feels like that,” he said at last, softly. “I don’t get to keep nice things. I never have.”

Add that to list of self-pitying complaints to come out of his mouth.

He veered toward the creek and sat down beside it, feeling glum. Raine sat beside him, opened her notebook, and scribbled a few things down.

“Bad things happen, Percy,” Raine said. “Good things happen too. You won’t be able to get back those six months, and that’s horribly unfair, but good things have happened since then. Can you tell me about them?”

“I dunno,” he mumbled, pulling his knees up.

“You got time with your mother,” Raine said, soft and encouraging. “You were able to reach out and ask for help again. You made several new friends. Weren’t those all good?”

Percy softened, just a little. “Yeah. But I... I don’t know. I’m scared I won’t be able to keep them.”

“They won’t last forever,” Raine conceded. “Good times and bad times come and go. That’s all that happened, Percy. A good time in your life ended, and you went into a bad time. Then the bad time ended, and now you’re in a good time again. You will always have both.”

“I don’t like that,” Percy told the creek.

“I know,” Raine said. “Change is frightening and difficult. But if you’re too afraid to enjoy the good times, then all you have left is the bad. Does that sound any better?” Percy didn’t answer. “Think about it. If you can, sit down and list every good thing you can think of that happened in the last six months. I’m sure you’ll be surprised.”

Percy exhaled. “I’ll work on it,” he agreed, eyes on the water.

“That’s all I ask,” Raine said. “Can you tell me about waking up at the Wolf House?”

Percy forced himself to focus again.

“I woke up surrounded by wolves,” he said after a moment. “I freaked out, obviously, and fought my way out. Spent the next few days hiding in the rafters, pretty much until I was too hungry to keep climbing around like that. Lupa was impressed. She said that she could tell I had training already, and she rarely saw demigods with such good instincts.”

“Tell me about Lupa,” Raine said.

“Lupa is a wolf goddess,” Percy explained, relaxing a little. “She’s the one that raised Remus and Romulus, the founders of Rome – which I know because she told me that story like fifty times.” He tapped his knee a few times, and then continued, “I liked her, and her pack. Lupa was the only one that talked, but I kind of got a feel for understanding the others after a couple of weeks. They were definitely used to having pups around; they knew how to train me to sharpen my instincts even when Lupa was out hunting, and they knew how much I could take before I had to rest. When I needed to rest, Lupa would tell me stories, old Roman myths. It was... it was pretty much perfect for getting a new demigod ready for camp.”

“You feel good about the experience?” Raine asked.

“I guess I do,” Percy said, vaguely surprised. “I mean- it was scary, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t have any memories, I had no idea why I was there, and the wolf pack wouldn’t let me leave. But it was... I don’t know, intuitive. It felt right. It was definitely better than how I got introduced to Camp Half-Blood. Lupa wants us to survive, you know? And it works for them. The survival rates for Roman campers are amazing compared with Camp Half-Blood. I wish we had a system that good.”

Raine paused. “Have you asked whether Lupa would be willing to take on Greek campers alongside Roman?” she asked.

Percy blinked, and then sat bolt upright.

“I don’t know,” he said, but hope was surging through him despite the uncertainty. “I- I don’t know. I’m not even sure we should ask. But...” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the idea. “I’ll think about it. Maybe ask some of the others what they think. It’s... it’s a really good idea.”

Raine smiled at him, and then prompted, “You said that when you were ready, she sent you to find the camp on your own?”

Percy nodded. “She said I’d be able to find it with my instincts alone, and she was right. I was able to head right for it.” He snorted. “Not that it was easy. My first day out, Medusa’s sisters found me, and Thanatos had been kidnapped by then, so they never stayed dead more than an hour or two. I was running and fighting for three days straight before I reached Camp Jupiter.”

“How did you feel about that?”

Percy frowned. “Anxious,” he decided. “It was really freaking me out that they wouldn’t stay dead. But I still had the Curse of Achilles at that point, so it wasn’t like they could really hurt me either.” He stretched out, putting his feet in the shallows. “Mostly, I wanted to get to camp so that I could find Annabeth. Her name was pretty much the only thing I remembered.”

Raine wrote something down. “And when you arrived?”

“The entrance to Camp Jupiter is in a tunnel,” Percy said, “which is actually a pretty good idea, because it means they’ve only got one spot to guard, instead of a whole border.” He smiled a little. “The two guards out that day were Hazel and Frank. We’re good friends now.”

“That’s excellent,” Raine said. “How did getting into camp go?”

“It was pretty easy,” Percy admitted. “It would’ve been easier if Juno hadn’t showed up and made me carry her across the river, but frankly everything would be easier if Hera just wasn’t around.” He paused, and relaxed when no thunder rumbled above. The privacy ward still held. “Anyway, there’s a river in front of the entrance, so I was able to use that against Stheno and Euryale. Their dust washed out to sea.” He flicked at the water, and after a moment of deliberation, said, “There was a bummer though. The Little Tiber, the river that borders Camp Jupiter, is a Roman river, and I guess the Curse of Achilles is strictly Greek. So walking through it dissolved the curse. No more steel skin.”

“How do you feel about that?” Raine asked.

“Honestly? It’s kind of a relief.” Percy shrugged at Raine’s curious glance. “And not for the reasons you’d think, you know, under the circumstances. But having a weak spot like that is pretty stressful, and I was tired all the time. And Achilles... he hinted at saying it makes fatal flaws worse, too. I could have lived with it just fine, but I’m not too sad that it’s gone.” He grimaced, turning his hand over to rub his thumb over his palm. “Then again, maybe if I’d still had the curse, I would’ve been more useful on this last quest.” Chrysaor probably couldn’t have beaten him, for one thing. Hell, he might’ve been able to take on Nike by himself.

“But you didn’t want to keep it,” Raine said.

“...No.”

Raine nodded thoughtfully. “You said that Juno made you carry her?”

“Yeah.” Percy rolled his eyes. “Disguised herself as an old lady and had me carry her across. She was technically doing me a favor, because her making an appearance helped convince the Romans to take me in, but I don’t know why she had to make such a show of it. She also could have just, you know, showed up and said she sent me.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It’s annoying, but like, it’s the kind of annoying I can put up with,” Percy said decisively. “The gods are all pretty dramatic, but that’s not an especially big deal. This was just like, inconvenient. Definitely had nothing on putting me into a coma for six months.” He didn’t bother checking the venom in his voice.

“And then you went inside.”

Percy tried to relax, moving along with Raine. “Yeah. The Romans are super organized, so it was really weird for me, and it’s even weirder looking back. They asked if I had like... references, letters of recommendation, whatever, and since I didn’t, Hazel sponsored me.” He rubbed his palm again, contemplative. “It was kind of a rough transition. The Romans aren’t big fans of Neptune, and the cohort I got put in with was considered the loser cohort. Course, that was only my problem for about a day, and we kicked ass at the war games that evening.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Raine asked.

“...Yeah,” Percy said, pleased with the realization. “I really liked the Roman camp. And I mentioned New Rome to you, right? It’s a whole city they have where Roman legionnaires can retire to after ten years of service. There are families there, businesses, there’s an actual college that I could go to.” He glanced over and smiled sheepishly. “Um, Reyna, the praetor, said it’d be okay for me and Annabeth to skip the full ten years, considering how many quests we’ve run.”

“That was kind of them. Are you going to take them up on it?”

Percy perked up. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. Absolutely. Me and Annabeth are gonna go to college there, and if we have kids, we’re going to move there for it.” He grinned to himself for a minute, humming. “We probably won’t stay there long otherwise, because we both care about Camp Half-Blood too much to stay away from it, but it... it’ll be really nice to have the option.”

“I’m happy to see you so excited about your future,” Raine told him, making Percy smile again, sheepish but pleased. “So you were there for a day, and then received a quest?”

Percy nodded. “Mars showed up the next day to claim Frank and send him to Alaska to unchain Thanatos. He brought me and Hazel, because, uh, we were the only ones who wanted to go with him.” He rubbed his cheek. “Uh, I know that’s more of a beginning than an ending, but I was kinda hoping to get into the quest later.”

“Of course, you get to choose how to organize these memories,” Raine said. “There’s still fallout from this time to discuss as well. How long did it take you to regain your memories?”

“Uh, about two months in all, I think,” Percy said thoughtfully. “Most of that time was with Lupa – it only took a couple days after I got to Camp Jupiter.”

“How did that go?” Raine asked. “I imagine it was a lot to have dropped on you during a quest.”

Percy leaned back and hummed. “It wasn’t as bad as you might think. It was kind of like, uh, like a magic trick. I didn’t really notice the memories coming back until they were already there. Like- I wouldn’t realize I’d remembered anything until I saw something that made me think of it.” He drummed his feet on the floor. “At one point, I saw a payphone, and I realized- hey, I need to call my mom, she’s probably losing her mind right now.”

“How did you feel about that?”

Percy grabbed a fidget spinner to play with. “Not as bad as you might think. It wasn’t exactly like the Lotus Casino, like someone pulled a curtain over my memory. It’s more like I just... didn’t notice them for a while. It didn’t feel like I was remembering Mom for the first time. It was like... like I’d forgotten to check back when I promised I would, and didn’t realize it until right then.”

“What about other parts of your life? Paul, school, your friends?”

Percy grimaced. “It wasn’t that bad during the quest,” he said, “because I didn’t have much time to think about it. But I spent a lot of time brooding about it on the Argo – lying awake, or when I was guarding the ship.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“How much time I’d lost, mostly,” Percy said. His flicks of the fidget spinner slowed into a more melancholy drawl. “I felt like shit when I realized I’d missed Mom’s birthday. Probably ruined the whole day for her. Christmas, too.” Tap, tap. “I kinda wanted to do something special for mine and Annabeth’s six month anniversary, but I missed it.” Tap, tap. “I’d, uh, I’d just stand on the deck, watching the sea, and I’d be wondering if Goode would take me back after missing so much school. Or if the friends I made here would still talk to me after I disappeared on them.”

“Have they?” Raine asked. Percy looked away and swallowed, chest tightening.

“I haven’t tried,” he managed. He crossed his arms. “I don’t know what to tell them. I can’t just not explain. But I don’t want to make them worry, or, or sound like I’m making excuses. Which I would be, since I can’t exactly tell them I got kidnapped by a goddess.”

“Think about it,” Raine instructed gently. “Script out an explanation, and I’ll help you go over it. I’m sure they’ll be relieved to hear from you again.”

Some of the tension eased out of him. “I’m not really sure how much is okay to say, though. I mean, they’ve got their own stuff going on. They don’t need mine on top of it.”

“Go with what feels right,” Raine said. “St. Joan’s is structured to promote peer support. We wouldn’t do that if we didn’t believe you had the strength to support each other.”

Percy relaxed. “I can tell Alfie the truth, obviously,” he said after a minute. “And I think I’ll tell the others that I was in a coma. It’s basically true.” He played with the fidget spinner, speeding it up again. “I guess the order isn’t really important... maybe I can tell them I got attacked, and that put me in a coma?”

He glanced up at Raine, who nodded.

“If you’re comfortable with that, I think it works,” Raine said. “Jet will likely understand some of the subtext – you and Jet are still friends, yes?”

Percy smiled a little and nodded. “Last I checked,” he said ruefully. “Amna, Rose, Jet, Alfie, and Kylie.” All of them lived in New York City; the others were spread out across a few states. Amna and Jet were even in Manhattan. “It would be nice to see them again. Maybe we can meet up at a park or something. Uh, when I get out.” Again.

“It’ll do you good to see friends you don’t fight alongside,” Raine said. Percy hummed in agreement. “Now, can you do something for me? Look back at the things you remember worrying about with your missing time.” Percy scowled. “Now look forward two years. Is there anything you lost that you can’t rebuild in those two years?”

Percy’s scowl melted into a frown, and he leaned against the chair back.

“...I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess... there’ll be other birthdays and other Christmases. Annabeth probably wasn’t super interested in celebrating six months anyway.” He hesitated, eyes on the spinner he was playing with. “We talked about me going for a GED already. And it’s probably not gonna take me the full two years to... to get back to where I was, um, emotionally. I guess... if my friends from here still talk to me, I guess I didn’t lose anything I can’t get back.” He glanced up. “But it still sucks. That... it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I know,” Raine said gently. “And you’re allowed to mourn that loss. But it’s important for you to understand – you’ll recover from it. Your life isn’t ruined. You will be okay.”

“It’s going pretty okay so far,” Percy said, leaning against the wall with the phone to his ear. He kept an eye on the door, but most of his attention was on the call. “We started working through stuff, and it’s a big relief. I mean, it all still sucks, but it’s not so loud in my head now.”

“I’m glad,” Sally said warmly. “If you’re starting off on such a positive note, I think that’s an excellent sign of how the rest will go, don’t you?”

Percy smiled a little, playing with his spinner one-handed. “Yeah. I was worried I’d get into it and freeze up, but it wasn’t any worse than some of the tougher days from last time. I think I’ll be able to get through it.”

“That’s wonderful,” she said. “How’s the Ativan working for you so far? Has it helped?”

Percy grimaced, still wrestling with the embarrassment that flared up when he thought about it. Still- “It’s good. It’s making me kinda sleepy, but I’ve only thrown up maybe twice in the last week and a half, and one of them was when I was talking about Tartarus. I’m sleeping better too.” He hesitated, then added, “Uh, she did say she might tick up the dose a little if I throw up again.”

“That’s amazing,” Sally said, with enough relief to cascade through the tinny speaker.

“...Yeah,” Percy agreed, relaxing against the wall behind him. “I mean- I was kind of hesitant, because Chiron is pretty suspicious of medication, but I stopped vomiting basically overnight. Ginger ale didn’t do that.”

“If you’re happy with it, I’m happy with it,” Sally said firmly. “How do you like the other patients?”

“I haven’t been paying a lot of attention,” Percy admitted, soft and guilty. “Still spending most of my time on my own, to be honest.”

“That’s not like you,” she commented with concern.

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s just- it’s not what I’m looking for right now, you know? Last time I super needed the encouragement and the playtime and stuff, but this time... I’m just not feeling well enough to mess around, I guess.”

“You’ll feel better if you do.”

“Probably,” he mumbled, unconvinced.

Sally exhaled, and when she spoke, her voice was encouraging again. “It doesn’t have to be taxing if you don’t want it to be. I know you’re used to spending a lot of energy on looking after your friends, but you don’t have to right now. You can just... spend time around them.”

Percy softened, even though until now he hadn’t realized that was the problem. “I’ll try, okay? I don’t know how much I have it in me right now, but I’ll try.”

“I know, sweetheart. You always do.”

“...Mom, is it mean if I let the two clearsighted kids do their own thing?”

“Why would that be mean?” Sally sounded startled.

“I went out of my way for Alfie,” he explained, fidgeting with the cord. “Rachel was so relieved when I explained what was going on, you know? I figure a little help goes a long way. But with Mike and Sofia I'm like... I dunno, they seem like they’re doing okay.” He huffed. “But it kind of feels like I’m just being lazy.”

“It’s not your job to take care of the other patients, Percy,” Sally reminded him softly. “You’re there because you need help. They’re getting plenty of support from their own therapists, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled. “But Raine’s always mentioning that she doesn’t know everything, and Alfie seemed really happy when I was able to answer questions for him.”

“And it was wonderful that you did that, when you had the energy to do it,” Sally said. “But you need that energy for yourself right now, sweetheart. Mike and Sofia will be okay, I promise.”

Percy smiled, letting himself relax. His mom always knew just what to say. “Love you.”

He could almost hear Sally melting. “I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll be visiting you this weekend, okay? Remember that. Sunday afternoon.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. They’d settled into a rhythm the last time, Percy’s friends dropping by on Saturday and his parents on Sunday, and it looked like his mom meant to keep to that. He hoped his friends did too. “...I really didn’t want to leave home so quick.”

“I know,” Sally murmured. “And I miss you already. But you’re going to feel so much better when you come home again. Remember that.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his face. “Yeah. I’m trying.”

Chapter Text

On Friday, Percy made sure he was the first into the group room.

“Please don’t make me do this today,” he said, bouncing unhappily on his toes. “I know it’s important and mandatory and stuff, but I, I can’t do this today. It’s too much too soon. I can’t.”

Cassia studied him, concern coloring her face. “What do you think is going to happen, Percy?” she asked softly.

“I think that people are going to say nice things and I’m gonna guilt-spiral and have a really ugly breakdown,” Percy said. “And I’m really not up to that right now.”

Cassia hesitated, studying him with her brow pinched together.

“I’ll even do a stupid- dammit- I’ll even do a makeup assignment, okay?” Percy pleaded. “Just not this.”

Finally, Cassia exhaled and nodded. “Alright, Percy,” she said. “Why don’t you spend the block with Raine instead? I’m not going to ask either of you how it goes, but I’d like you to talk to her about this.”

Relieved, Percy nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, thanks.”

He made his way out just as the first of the others trickled in.

Percy knocked on Raine’s door and waited for her to call out before he sidled in, cheeks hot. Raine blinked at him in surprise, then frowned. “Percy? Shouldn’t you be with Cassia right now?”

“Um, Abel’s graduating today,” Percy said. “And I kind of begged her not to make me participate.”

Raine’s eyebrows rose, and it took a moment before clarity flashed across them. “And she sent you here to talk about it, yes?”

“Yeah,” Percy mumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets and glancing away. He sat down when Raine gestured and crossed his ankles, hugging himself uncomfortably. “I, um, I didn’t think I could make it through the whole thing without freaking out, and I didn’t want to ruin Abel’s day or anything.”

Raine considered him for a long moment, and then nodded and pushed aside some paperwork, making Percy wince.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s alright, it’s nothing urgent,” Raine said. “Can you tell me what it is about this activity specifically that upsets you? You haven’t had much trouble with the self-esteem assignments I’ve set you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m in control with those, and I don’t tell myself anything I can’t handle hearing,” Percy said bluntly. “But you remember when you told me I was a good friend, right? I had to go and throw up.” He shrugged. “I, um, didn’t like the odds of me being able to make it through a whole gauntlet without getting triggered like that.”

“I see.” Raine shifted, frowning. When she didn’t speak for a while, Percy winced and pulled up his knees to brace on the edge of his seat.

“Sorry.”

“No worries, I’m just thinking about how to approach this,” Raine said. “Are you anxious about hearing those things, or about having the others see your reaction to it?”

“Mostly the second,” Percy admitted. “I mean, I’m not thrilled about the first either, but I know it’s not rational or anything and I figure I’ll get over it. But it’s really going to dampen everyone’s mood if I start panicking in the middle of my turn. I don’t think that’s the vibe Cassia’s going for.”

“Cassia’s experienced at handling things like that,” Raine reassured him. “It comes with the territory.” She tapped her desk a few times, and then said, “When someone gives you a compliment you don’t agree with, what goes through your mind?”

“I think I lied to them,” Percy said instantly. “I did something that made them think that, and I owe it to them to make sure they understand it’s not true.” Pause. “Shit. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s a perfectly normal trauma response,” Raine corrected, gentle. “Percy, what’s the difference between acting like a good friend and being a good friend?”

“Whether you’re there when it really counts,” Percy said flatly.

“Every time, or just as many as you can?” Raine asked. Percy faltered, and then hid his face in his knees.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said, muffled. “It’s not gonna work. There’s stuff I can’t take back.”

“There are always mistakes,” Raine agreed. “Can you think about times you were there for your friends? For Grover and Annabeth, for example? Maybe for-”

Percy pressed his hands over his ears, feeling his eyes burn with tears. “Stop. Stop. Stop.” Raine stopped, and Percy took a deep breath, then two strained and shallow ones before he managed to even out again. “I know it’s a trauma response, okay? I, I can’t help it. ‘M sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Raine soothed him. “It’s alright. It’s too soon for that, and you’re not ready. I understand.” She paused, and then prompted gently, “Would you be willing to concede that the standards you set for yourself are much higher than what most people do?” Percy hesitated, then nodded. “Could you accept that what I consider a good friend is different from what you do?”

Percy hugged himself anxiously. “I... maybe?”

“So then,” Raine said, just as gentle, “even if you still don’t consider yourself a good friend, perhaps you can accept that I disagree.”

Percy’s grip tightened, and his breath hitched twice. “You don’t know what happened,” he mumbled.

“I don’t,” Raine acknowledged. “But I’m okay with that. With the information that I have, it is my opinion that you have been a good friend on many occasions. Better than most would be.”

Percy shuddered, like the words physically hurt to hear. They kind of did; he felt sore inside, like he was being pulled apart.

“Can you tell me what you’re thinking right now?” Raine prompted after a while.

“’M not,” Percy admitted. “It just hurts a lot.”

Raine studied him. “Are you thinking of something in particular?” she asked. “I don’t recall you being insecure in your loyalty before. I imagine something happened.”

Percy hesitated, fixing his eyes on her desk to avoid looking at her, and then nodded.

Raine softened her voice. “Do you think you need to work through that trauma before you can handle this?”

Percy hid his face, then hated himself. Raine was trying to help him. The least he could do was cooperate. Despite his best efforts, though, his breath sped up, turning shallower.

Raine exhaled. “I’ll explain the situation to Cassia,” she said softly. “She’ll be careful on Fridays if I ask her to, and you can sit out the gauntlet until you’re more comfortable with it.”

Percy tried to feel relieved. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

A soft knocking drew Percy’s attention to the doorway, and he wiped his mouth and backed out of the stall to squint over there. One of the girls had hesitantly poked her head inside, looking concerned.

“Hey,” Lucy said softly, brow wrinkled. “I heard you running down the hall. You okay?”

Percy grimaced and leaned heavily against the metal stall. “Sorry if I woke you up,” he muttered.

“I was already awake,” Lucy replied. She took half a tentative step inside, blushed, and stepped back again. Percy managed a smile.

“Just me in here,” he rasped.

Lucy smiled back, and more confidently, she stepped inside and came over to sit only a couple feet away from him. She glanced around curiously before refocusing on him. Lucy had a soft voice; it reminded Percy suddenly of Silena.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. “I’m always awake, so the others stay up with me after nightmares sometimes. Or I could get you a glass of water or something.”

Percy’s smile came easier this time. “That’s alright. How come you’re awake?”

“Haven’t figured out how to stop worrying yet,” Lucy admitted. “It’s easier when I’m hanging out with someone.”

“Does that help you sleep?”

“Sometimes.”

Percy leaned his head against the wall and considered her for a moment. Sweat trickled down his temple and the back of his neck, and he could still taste bile. His stomach had mostly settled, but the threat of nausea was still there.

“Shame we don’t have a real common area,” he said at last. “Playroom or lobby?”

Lucy flashed him a smile. It was a nice, warm one. “Playroom. Unless you need to stay here a little longer?”

“Think I’m done,” Percy sighed. He reached over to flush the toilet, then stood up with a sleepy stumble. He tilted his head, and Lucy left the bathroom just ahead of him. By the time he caught up, he’d made a decision. “Ever dream that something that went bad had gone even worse?” Lucy nodded. “Yeah. Things are ten times scarier when help isn’t coming.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said to him quietly. Percy shrugged. “I- well, are you religious at all?”

Percy smiled bitterly. “I used to be,” he said, surprising himself. “Uh, pagan, not Christian or anything. But I guess that faith breaks just the same.”

For a second, Lucy looked too sad to be only fifteen, and she nodded.

“I stopped for a while too,” she admitted to Percy. “Stopped believing, I mean. But you’re right. Things are scarier when help isn’t coming.”

Percy picked up her meaning easily and softened a little. “Yeah, I get that.” He was quiet for a moment. “Why?”

“Oh,” Lucy said, and blushed. “I was going to try and encourage you, but it didn’t work out.”

Percy laughed raggedly. “That’s alright,” he said. “You’re doing a good job anyway.”

Lucy smiled at him gratefully. Percy pushed open the door to the playroom, and the lights flickered on. He glanced around.

“Wanna just hang out and listen to music for a while?” he asked her.

“Sure.”

Percy collected a stereo and a small stack of CDs from Cassia’s corner of the room, knowing she never minded. He passed the stack to Lucy to pick first and set the volume low enough not to disturb anyone. He yawned.

“What time is it, anyway?” he asked.

“A little after four,” Lucy said. “You gonna try and get some more sleep?”

Percy shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll see how I feel in an hour or two.”

Lucy put in a CD and pressed play, and both of them listened for a song or two.

“Hey, can I ask you a personal question?” he asked after a while. Lucy’s mouth twitched into a smile.

“Oh, I’d never share anything personal with the people I meet here.”

Percy snickered, but still hesitated for a moment before he asked, “Did you have trouble coming out to your friends?”

Surprise flickered across her face, then discomfort, and then a flash of recognition. “Did a friend come out to you recently?” Percy nodded. “What did you say?”

“I kind of just spluttered,” Percy admitted sheepishly. “He walked up, told me he used to have a crush on me, but he was over it now, and then he walked away again.” Lucy muffled a guilty giggle. “Thank you. Annabeth says I should have come up with something, but man, what’s the right way to react to that?”

“Are you really good friends?” Lucy asked.

“Our relationship is kind of complicated,” Percy said. “We don’t hang out or anything, but we’re really close for other reasons.”

“If he trusted you enough to walk away without seeing how you reacted, you’re probably okay,” Lucy told him. Percy sighed in relief, and Lucy smiled at him. “It’s really sweet of you to ask though.”

Percy gave her an embarrassed smile. “Nico’s had a hard enough time as it is,” he said. “He doesn’t need to be worrying about me too.”

Lucy hummed and set her cheek in the crook of her elbow. “Hope hugged me and told me she’d stand up for me no matter what,” she said. “But I kind of get the feeling that you and your friend don’t have that kind of relationship.”

Percy choked on a laugh, half-hid his face, and cackled into his arm. “Oh my gods, he’d never forgive me,” he wheezed.

Lucy laughed, too. “There you go, then.”

As if by agreement, both of them set their heads down to listen to the playing music. By the time the sun came up, Percy had fallen asleep again, and when he woke up, Lucy was still sitting next to him, nodding along to the music.

Seeing his friends stirred up a whirlpool of emotions too tangled for Percy to identify, so he made a joke. “You know, I didn’t realize we were ‘hospital visit’ levels of close.”

“Dude, we lived together for like, a month,” Leo pointed out, looking relaxed with his hands in his pockets. “I watched you eat blue pancakes every morning for a week and a half.”

“I was worried about you,” Jason added, comfortingly unembarrassed about his care for his friends. “So when Grover mentioned he was visiting you, I asked if I could come along. Then Piper wanted to come too, and Leo joined in.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” Grover explained to Percy, plopping down next to him beside the creek. “You wanted to spend more time with them anyway, right? Seemed like a good opportunity.”

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Percy sighed. Grover winced, and Percy gave him a strained smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy you remembered that, but ‘I have two truckloads of mental illness’ isn’t a stellar opening move.”

“Uh, we’re way past ‘opening move’ territory,” Piper told him. “Personally, I think all the weeks you spent guarding the boat were a pretty great good-faith statement.” Percy flushed. He hadn’t thought about it that way. “Grover didn’t explain a lot, though, and this is kind of worrying, Percy. Did something happen?”

The corner of Percy’s mouth twitched. “Do I need to answer that?”

Piper blushed, but the teasing seemed to relax her a little. “I mean, you seemed mostly fine when you were at camp. So it’s worrying that you went home and like, went straight to a hospital.”

“Yeah,” Leo agreed, frowning at him. “Like, I get it, you went through some shit, but you were powering through like you were Superman. What happened?”

Percy winced, understanding now. He glanced at Jason, who shrugged apologetically.

“I didn’t want to say anything without asking you,” he explained. Touched, Percy gave him a grateful smile, and Jason relaxed.

“I was kind of messed up to start with,” he explained, trying to figure out how much he could say without embarrassing himself. “When Hera grabbed me, I’d been out of here for less than a month. With everything that happened, it was kind of two steps forward, three steps back.”

Piper’s brow knit. “What were you here for the first time?”

Percy looked away, ripped up a dandelion leaf, and played with it for a minute, considering. Grover nudged him in concern, and Percy shook his head without looking.

“I was thinking about hurting myself,” he said at last. “I don’t really want to get into it past that.” It wasn’t like they needed any more reason to believe he was the weakest link in the group.

“Oh,” Piper said, with a gratifying amount of empathy. “Yeah, okay, it’s none of our business.”

Percy shot her a grateful look and tried to relax. Leo paused where he was setting scrap metal and tools around him to work on something, then snapped his fingers in realization.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding Calypso, isn’t it?” he asked. Percy grimaced.

“Yeah,” he admitted, shifting to sit crisscross. “I know it’s not fair to her, but by the time I went home I was like- barely holding it together.” He rolled his shoulders. “She deserves a proper apology and some time to talk. Trust me, I was in no fit state to manage that.”

Leo visibly mulled that over, and then gave Percy a nod. “I’ll tell her,” he promised, earning a grateful smile. “She wanted to visit, but Grover said you wouldn’t want that.”

Percy exhaled. “Thanks, bro.” To Leo, “Something happened that I can’t talk about yet, and I can’t deal with it. But thanks for telling me anyway.”

“You know that excuse has an expiration date, right?” Leo asked, meeting Percy’s eyes with a fearless look he only brought out for Calypso. Percy nodded. “Cool. Just checking.” He looked back down, getting back to work. “So what’s the deal with this place? Grover said you’d be here for like, three months.”

Percy’s face heated up. “Do you seriously want to hear about it?”

“I think checking on you is a mandatory part of being hospital visit close,” Jason told him. Percy searched his face and saw nothing but earnestness, and even Leo and Piper seemed to be listening.

Grover elbowed him, probably reading his mind. “I keep telling you, Perce,” he said. “People that care about you want you to talk about yourself sometimes.”

“Annabeth calls to complain about her therapist every couple of days,” Piper offered, eyes glittering with amusement. Percy’s heart skipped a beat, but Grover bumped him before he could go too far down that road.

“She’s not calling you because you’re struggling enough already, dude,” he said. “Don’t overthink it.”

Percy forced himself to relax, huffed, and bumped Grover gratefully.

“It’s a twelve week program, yeah,” he said at last, his heart fluttering oddly when they all looked like they were paying attention. “I mean, I’ll keep seeing my therapist after I leave, but St. Joan’s is like, intensive. I’m literally living in the facility, that should tell you something.”

“What does intensive mean for a therapy facility?” Jason asked.

“Two hours of therapy every day, plus two hours of group therapy every weekday, plus a bunch of random shit like art and gardening and stuff,” Percy explained. “It’s about the same length as a school day, and then you get meals and rec time.”

Leo whistled, impressed. “What do you even talk about for all that time?”

“Trauma therapy, skill building, self-esteem work,” Percy shrugged. “I don’t really know how Raine and Cassia pick out what we’re going to work on. But it’s basically a combination of venting shit out and learning how to cope better.”

“How did that go this week, anyway?” Grover asked. “Everything you’ve talked about so far has been pretty general.”

“Gods, sorry, we’re interrupting,” Piper apologized. Percy waved it off.

“Mostly we did trauma therapy this week, since we’ve been doing self-esteem stuff and skill-building for the last month,” Percy said. “I got to bitch about losing six months of my life – no offense, Jason.”

“None taken,” Jason said. “I’m so glad I wasn’t unconscious for six months.”

Percy grimaced and nodded. “And she’s watching how I’m responding to medication,” he added. He winced when everyone looked alarmed. “I didn’t mention that, did I?”

“No, you did not,” Grover scolded, pinching him lightly. “What medication?”

“Ativan,” Percy admitted, avoiding looking at the others. “It’s, uh, an anti-anxiety, but I’m mostly taking it so that I stop throwing up every time I get upset.”

“That’s a good reason to take medication,” Leo agreed, wincing in unexpected sympathy. Percy nodded.

“Chiron’s dead set against it, says monsters are trying to drug us,” Percy said. “But I was getting kind of desperate.”

“Chiron’s older than Jesus,” Grover reminded Percy. “I know he makes it really easy forget that, but like, he’s not immune to having outdated ideas. Just look at his music taste.” Percy laughed.

“Sorry,” he added, looking at the creek instead of any of his friends. “I know everyone else is dealing with everything a lot better than I am.”

“I’m pretty sure being the first to seek help makes you the smartest, actually,” Jason told him. “That quest sucked.” His voice shook subtly toward the end.

Leo nodded in agreement. “I was kinda thinking about it too,” he said. “I mean, regular therapy, not a place like this. But it seems like the thing to do, you know? That shit was like, the dictionary definition of traumatic.” He frowned down at his project. A wristwatch shield, Percy guessed. “I don’t want to lose three whole months to it, though. I’m not that bad off.”

“You should talk to Chiron about it,” Percy said. “I think he knows some regular therapists that know about us, or he could probably arrange for regular appointments with someone that works here.”

“Sounds expensive,” Leo said. Piper opened her mouth, but Percy beat her to it.

“Camp pays for it,” he said. “Thank fuck, because even with Paul’s help, Mom never would’ve been able to afford a place like this.”

Leo whistled. “Lucky break.”

Percy nodded. “The gods can suck it,” he said. “But Chiron cares about us. I’ve never had any reason to doubt that.”

Chapter Text

Instinctively, Percy wanted to go to the woods, climb a very tall tree, stare at the sky, and daydream about falling. It sounded nice in a way he couldn’t really explain to himself, let alone anyone else.

Instead, though, he dug the voice recorder with his safety plan out of his duffel bag, listened to it a couple of times, and finally pulled on a hoodie and walked down the hall to Raine’s office. He briefly considered waking her up, but decided against it, and instead grabbed his comfort box off the shelf and brought it to his corner. He put his headphones on and rubbed some of the ocean-scented lotion on his neck. Then he grabbed Fang, pressed play on the MP3, and closed his eyes. Instead of falling, he thought of Montauk, then New Rome, then the bottom of the bay by Camp Half-Blood.

A few hours later, Raine entered her office and jumped, her phone clattering to the ground. “Percy?” Almost immediately, worry crept into her voice. “Did something happen?”

“Had a nightmare,” Percy rasped, opening his eyes to blink blearily at her. “I think it was a nightmare, anyway.” He tugged his headphones down around his neck. “You can still do, uh, whatever you do in the morning. I know you weren’t expecting me to be here. I just, um...” He shrugged, embarrassed and annoyed with himself. “Safety plan.”

Instead of doing that, Raine went to sit down in front of him, sitting cross-legged a few feet away. “What was it? It seems like this rattled you much more than your usual nightmares.”

Percy dipped his head, staring at the ground. “Dreamt that Dad gave me a new quest,” he muttered, hoarse and quiet. “I... think it was just a dream, because the details are kind of jumbled up, and I don’t remember the dream very well. But I’m- I’m scared, because Dad’s probably the only one I wouldn’t say no to right now, and I- I can’t take another quest, Raine. I really, really can’t.”

“You’re running on empty,” Raine said, “and you’re afraid that the gods will keep making demands anyway.”

Percy nodded stiffly. “I’d like to say they wouldn’t be that cruel, but... they would. They really, definitely would. And I’m so fucking sick of fighting their battles for them when they don’t give a shit about us.” He hugged Fang tightly. “If I never saw a god again, I’d be thrilled.”

Raine considered him. “Even your father?” she asked quietly. Percy swallowed.

“...I haven’t heard anything from him since we fought Gaea,” he managed. “Not- not a word, or a sign, or even a dream unless you count this fucking thing.” He bent his head. “They didn’t even acknowledge us this time, Raine. They didn’t say thank you, or good job, or sorry. A-and this quest was so bad. I’ve never been so scared for so long in my life. It’s like they think fighting with us for a couple hours at the very end made it even. That’s... that’s probably exactly what they think.” He curled tighter, eyes burning with tears. “I hate them. I hate them. We were on that quest for weeks. Me and Jason were taking eight, ten, twelve hour shifts to guard the boat. Leo barely slept because whenever he wasn’t piloting the boat, he was fixing it. Hazel lost like twenty pounds because she was seasick and vomiting the whole time, and she didn’t complain once.”

Raine scooted over and rubbed his back gently, making soothing sounds. “I know. I know. You sacrificed a lot for this quest, and I’m sure it hurts not to see it returned.” Percy made a small, choked sound. “Do you want to talk through it right now, or are you content with venting for now?”

Percy swallowed with difficulty. “I-it isn’t too early, is it?”

“If you’d needed, you could have woken me up last night and asked for time,” Raine said. “I might have needed a few minutes to compose myself, but you would have gotten that time.”

Percy relaxed a little, comforted by the reassurance. “Thanks,” he murmured. “Um, I, I know you said it would be easier if I tried thinking about people I care about instead of the gods, but...” He cleared his throat. “I still know who’s doing this to me.”

“It’s not under your control,” Raine concluded, and Percy nodded stiffly.

“Hey, Raine?” he asked after a moment. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

Percy took a breath, closed his eyes, and hugged the plush shark.

“Zeus closed Olympus because I refused immortality,” he said. “And Hera swapped me and Jason because he closed Olympus. And the gods were incapacitated because the camps came in contact.” He took another, quicker breath, which stuttered and caught. “If I hadn’t refused immortality, do you think they would have helped us with this quest? Could... could they have closed the Doors of Death? Is it my fault that this was so hard?”

Pause.

“You are never responsible for the actions or inaction of others,” Raine said firmly, her eyes steady on his when he looked back up. “You asked for the reward you wanted. You didn’t know how Zeus would react, or what would happen later. That means those things are not your fault.”

“But would they have?” Percy pressed desperately, as if Raine would know the answer. “If I’d just... played nice for once in my fucking life?”

Raine hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Do you remember what you asked for instead?” Percy nodded, confused. “Knowing what you know now... would you have let that opportunity pass?”

Percy’s muscles loosened. “No. I... no.”

The thought was more soothing than he’d expected it to be. The claimed kids and the children of the minor gods had been so happy. No matter what else had happened- they’d gotten that. He’d made sure of it.

Raine gave him a small smile, and then prompted, “Have you run the steps you decided on with Letitia?”

Percy laughed, quiet and shattered. “You mean, have I tallied up how much this quest sucked and how little everyone helped?”

“Yes,” Raine said, completely serious. She reached down and squeezed Percy’s hand. “It’s true that it’s unfair that you weren’t rewarded for your efforts, but that doesn’t mean you have to let it stand. Do something nice for yourself. Go on a special date with Annabeth, or arrange a day trip with your friends, something fun and relaxing. Make yourself happy specifically because you’ve decided you deserve it. It’ll be good for you.”

Percy’s smile came a little easier this time, but it was still painful. “How many trips to Disneyland do you think it takes to add up to Tartarus?”

“It doesn’t have to be equal,” Raine said gently. “You aren’t balancing a scale. It’s a reward, so all it has to be is anything that makes you happy. If you want a trip to Disneyland to be your reward, I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Percy softened. “I’ll think about it, I guess,” he murmured.

Raine nodded. “I’ll put something together to help you process your anger soon,” she said. “It’s clear that you also have a lot of fear and hurt to work through around the gods, but I have a feeling that that anger needs to be expressed first.”

“Nothing we do here is going to fix anything, is it?” Percy asked, looking up at Raine.

“...No. Not really,” Raine admitted. “Not with the gods, at least. The most we can do is heal the hurt.”

Percy sighed. “That works, I guess.”

His despondent voice didn’t even convince himself. There was a long pause.

“Do you think there are any gods that you can safely express your feelings and reservations to?” Raine asked. “Not right away – perhaps after you’ve worked through them here. But would any of them listen? Your father, perhaps?”

Percy blinked, and then looked up at her, cautiously hopeful.

“...Hestia,” he said. “I don’t know how much she could help, but she would listen. She... she might even care.” He rubbed his wrists together anxiously. “I mean... she’s really nonconfrontational, so I don’t know if she’d speak up for us. But it would be nice for at least one of them to understand, I think.”

“What would you want to tell her?”

“I’d want her to know how scared and angry all the campers are,” Percy said, slow and hesitant. “Tell her some of the things everyone’s saying, maybe – that people think the gods don’t care if camp is destroyed, that they’re afraid of quests instead of seeking them, and they feel unloved and abandoned because the gods didn’t help when we were dying.”

“And for yourself?”

Percy fiddled with Fang’s tail. He could still faintly smell the ocean. “I want her to understand that I’m done,” he said quietly. “I’ve given enough to the gods. And I want them to know that I mean it.” He worried at the seam. “I mean... one of the biggest reasons I can’t take suicide off the table is because I’m scared of getting stuck with another gods-damn quest. I, I don’t want her to know that, exactly, but I want them to know how much I can’t do this anymore.”

“You feel as if your inner strength has run out,” Raine noted. Percy nodded. “I understand why. You’ve endured a nearly unimaginable amount of adversity in what has really been a very short lifetime. But the beautiful thing about inner strength is that it never truly runs out.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel?” Percy asked, bitter and borderline sullen.

“Because it does need to be recharged,” Raine said gently. “Rebuilt. Think- inner strength is what you use to endure hardship, to make difficult choices, and to defend your heart before it can become cold and broken. What do you think inner strength is made from?”

“Was I supposed to study for this test?” Percy asked, with a weary half-smile. Raine chuckled but gestured for him to answer, and he put his head down and thought about it for a while. “...Hope, I guess. Confidence. Motivation. Love. Things... things that make you really believe that the fight is worth it.” He looked at Raine. “But it’s not like I ever stopped loving and caring about my friends. I just...” He trailed off.

“Of course not,” Raine said. “But the strength you gain from them is becoming brittle. You’ve had too many bad times and not enough good.” She squeezed his hand. “You already have more inner strength now than you did when you first called me, don’t you?”

Percy blinked. “...I guess.”

“That’s what you need – time to laugh and play, be a child, and remember that life can be good. That sometimes things don’t hurt.”

“I know that,” Percy mumbled.

“You know it, but you don’t believe it,” Raine said gently. “But you will reach that point again, if you give yourself time.”

“And what if I don’t? What if it’s just this, over and over?”

“When you stop asking that,” she told him, “that’s how you’ll know you’ve healed well. For now, I think you’ll find your friends and family are more than willing to lend you their strength.”

Percy folded up, feeling exhausted and grumpy. He still had his headphones down around his neck and Fang in his lap. “How do I borrow inner strength?”

“You ask for it,” Raine said. “You stay up with them when you don’t know if your resolve will last the night, give them the choices you’re too exhausted to make. You ask for a distraction when you can’t think of one.” She considered. “I suppose, in summary – when you know you need something, and you can only get halfway there on your own, ask someone to meet you there.”

As soon as he saw Annabeth, Percy forgot about his nightmare in favor of concern. She was stretched out on her bed, thumbing halfheartedly at a book, but it was clear she wasn’t reading it, and she looked tense.

“Bad day, Wise Girl?”

Annabeth started, but half her tension melted away as soon as their eyes met, which gave Percy a happy little tickle in his chest.

“Hey, Percy,” she said, giving him a tired smile. There were shadows under her eyes, and Percy suspected she’d had a bad night’s sleep too. “It could’ve been worse. Dad finally drew the line and fired the therapist we were seeing. He’s looking for a different one now.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Percy said. Annabeth sighed, smile disappearing, and dropped her chin onto her book.

“He thought I was attention-seeking and that Dad was spoiling me by giving in,” she said, bitter resentment weighing down her words. “He was trying to be professional about it, but he wasn’t doing a very good job.” She shifted unhappily. “Because he’s a regular mortal, no sight at all, and we couldn’t exactly tell him what the actual points of contention are. Everything’s in super vague terms, and he just started assuming.”

“Bummer,” Percy said sympathetically, well familiar with the problem that regular mortals could present. “What happened? You said your dad fired him?”

“Today was the first time he said it outright,” she said. “Dad thought I was imagining it, said that the therapist’s concerns were reasonable because he didn’t know about the monsters.” She put her head in her hands. “I’m trying to be cooperative, so I put up with it. I mean- I really do want to fix things with him.”

“I know, Wise Girl,” Percy reassured her. “I’m sure your dad does too.”

Annabeth didn’t look comforted. “The twins had their birthday last week,” she said. “They had their party out at a local trampoline place – you know, you sign a waiver and go jump around for a while.” Percy smiled wistfully. He’d always wanted a party at one of those, but they couldn’t really afford it. “Dad asked me to come, and a couple of hellhounds got in. The place is closed down the rest of the month for repairs.” She looked defeated, head in her arms. “The twins were really disappointed, and my stepmom was pissed.”

“You know you couldn’t do anything about it,” Percy tried to encourage her.

“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed. “Doesn’t stop them all from being mad at me for it, though.”

Percy didn’t like that despondent look on Annabeth’s face. “Must’ve been a hilarious fight though. How good are hellhounds at using trampolines?”

Annabeth managed a smile, looking fond. “Not that great,” she said, “and definitely not as good as I am.”

“Course not,” Percy said, grinning at her. “You’re amazing.”

Annabeth gave him another fond look and relaxed. “Okay, but you didn’t call to hear me complain,” she said. “Unless it’s just a social call?”

“It can be,” Percy assured her.

“That’s a no,” Annabeth concluded. “What was it?”

Percy smiled sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “Had a nightmare that shook me pretty bad,” he admitted. He saw Annabeth brace herself and amended, “Not that kind of nightmare. It was just... I dreamed Dad was giving me another quest.”

Because she was amazing, Annabeth understood immediately. “You’re sure it was just a nightmare?”

“Pretty sure,” Percy said, offering a strained smile. “I usually remember my demigod dreams a lot more vividly, and this one’s kind of mixed up.” He glanced away. “Reason it shook me up was, uh, my shoulder devil was on it like. Right away. I... I don’t know if I could handle another quest, Annabeth.”

Annabeth reached as if to hold his hand, then pulled it back, eyes shadowed with sympathy. “Yeah, I get that,” she agreed quietly. “You haven’t had a break in your life, have you?” Percy dropped his gaze, pushing his fingers into his hair without answering. “Hey. If there’s any justice left in the world, your time is coming, okay? We’re gonna get our happy ending.”

Percy didn’t know if he believed that, but it made him feel better. He gave Annabeth a grateful smile. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Raising a family in New Rome, right?”

“Right,” Annabeth said firmly. “No matter what I have to do to make that happen – we’re gonna get that. You’ve been thinking about kids, haven’t you? How many did you want?”

Percy was pretty sure his smile had turned a little dopey now. “I was thinking just one,” he admitted. “I mean, we’ll see and everything, but having an only child would mean we could give them as much attention as they need. They’d never have to wonder if we love them.”

Annabeth was giving him that look like she was thinking about how much she loved him. “I thought you’d want more and I’d have to talk you down,” she said. “But I think that sounds perfect.”

Percy smiled back, embarrassed but pleased.

“Have you ever heard the saying give me the strength to control what I can, and the serenity to accept what I can’t?” Cassia asked. A chorus of mostly affirmative replies answered. “We’re going to talk about that today. In therapy settings, we call this a locus of control.”

Percy scrunched up his nose. “A locust of control?”

A few of the others snickered or laughed, and Cassia hid a smile. “A locus,” she corrected. “It’s... a focus, let’s say. You could consider it your personal AOE.”

Percy pulled up his knees uncomfortably, trying not to feel stupid. “I don’t know what that is either.”

Surprise flashed across Cassia’s face, and Percy crossed his arms. Fortunately for him, Amethyst jumped in.

“Area of effect,” she explained, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It’s a video game term for like, magic attacks that affect everything in a certain radius.”

Percy relaxed. “Oh, okay. I get it. Thanks.”

Cassia flashed a smile at both him and Amethyst. “Thank you, Amethyst. In your life, you’ll come across many things that you can control, and many things that you can’t. We’ve talked about things like this before – can you think of some examples of things you can’t control? Mike?”

Mike put his hand down. “How well your opponent performs?”

Percy spared a moment to think that that was weirdly specific, then recalled that Mike had said something about not being allowed to keep score in sports for therapy reasons. Performance stress, maybe?

“That’s a good one,” Cassia said. “Ruya?”

Ruya, seated next to Mike, jumped and then squirmed, but rallied quickly. “Getting sick.”

“Absolutely,” Cassia encouraged, and then nodded to Violetta, sitting by Ruya.

“How other people react to things,” Violetta said, playing with a Beanie Baby.

“The weather,” Percy suggested, and immediately tried to forget that he sort of could do that. It made some of the others laugh, anyway.

“Other people’s schedules,” Lucy offered.

On Sofia’s turn, she glanced at Mike and shared a rueful look with him, but when she looked back to Cassia all she said was, “Anything that catches you by surprise.”

“Can you explain what you mean by that?” Cassia asked. Sofia shrugged uncomfortably.

“If there’s a pop quiz, it’s not your fault you didn’t study for it, ‘cause you didn’t know it was happening,” she said. “And if you miss school because you got in an accident, it’s not your fault that you didn’t finish everything early to make time for it.”

Cassia smiled at her and nodded firmly. “That’s a very good one, thank you, Sofia.”

Percy listened as they went around. He’d had this lesson before, but it was interesting to hear it with a new group – his last one had talked a lot about things being done to them, legal stuff or being punished or whatever, but this group was more focused on things they couldn’t do. Get perfect grades, or appease an authority figure.

They went around the circle a couple more times, getting a feel for it until Cassia was satisfied.

“What things can you control?” she asked.

“Study habits,” Ruya said.

“Your own reactions,” Violetta suggested.

“Communication?” Percy pitched in, brow actually wrinkled in thought. “Like, whether or not you reach out to someone.”

“That’s a very good one,” Cassia praised, before gesturing to Lucy.

They went around the circle again – talking about being prepared, about practicing and taking care of your body, communication and assertiveness. It felt just a little different from last time, like he was seeing the lesson from a different angle and casting new light on recent events.

No man ever steps in the same river twice, he heard Rachel say in his head, for it is not the same river, and he is not the same man. Then she said, I never understood why old sayings always just use ‘man.’ Seriously, did they have to go out of their way to exclude women?

He hid a smile behind his hand.

“It’s important to pay attention to what you can control and what you can’t,” Cassia explained. “Most people spend a lot of time worrying about the things in their life that they can’t control – administrative issues, rumors, the problems of friends hundreds of miles away.”

“But things other people do affect us all the time,” Ruya said quietly. Cassia nodded, looking sympathetic.

“That’s true,” she said, “and I’m not saying that you’re not allowed to worry or be sad. The problem is when you’re struggling to accept your powerlessness. You can’t control, say, whether or not your application is accepted, and worrying about it won’t help you. The best thing to do is to accept that you’ve done everything you can and move on.”

“How is that different from not being allowed to worry?” Sofia snapped, leaning back grouchily.

“You’re perfectly allowed to,” Cassia reassured her. “You can and should express your concerns to a sympathetic ear. I’m asking you not to dwell on your worries. Understand that things not under your control are not your responsibility. You don’t need to feel bad for something that was not your fault.”

“Like, if a foster family decides they don’t like me,” Amethyst said, slow and wary, “and my social worker has to find me a new place?”

Cassia granted Amethyst a proud smile. “Yes, exactly. You can’t force someone to like you, and it’s also not your job to find a compatible home. It fundamentally involves you, but you are not expected to control the situation.”

Amethyst loosened and nodded quietly, and Ruya glanced over and gave her a fleeting smile.

Percy leaned against a shelf of toys and thought about gods that didn’t care.

“Percy?” Cassia asked after a while, drawing him out of his thoughts. He flushed and shrugged, grabbing a volleyball off the shelf to roll under his knee.

“Just thinking,” he said. “There’s a lot of kids at my summer camp with shitty parents. Not our kind of shitty, just, parents that don’t care, you know?” He fidgeted with his sleeve. “Most of them come to me when they want comfort, and I always feel really bad that I can’t help them. But...”

“But?” Cassia prompted. Percy glanced up, uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on him.

“It’s kind of nice to think of brushing it off as ‘not my fault,’” Percy admitted. “I’m doing what I can, right? I’m comforting them. And I don’t have to feel bad that I can’t do more.”

“Are you kidding?” Amethyst said, laughing. It took Percy a skipped heartbeat to identify it as incredulous. “If the kids are coming to you for comfort, man, you’re everybody’s favorite counselor and they’re gonna think of you for years.”

Percy turned pink, but he admitted to himself that the idea of that made him ridiculously happy.

Cassia gave him a broad smile. “That’s an excellent application of this lesson, Percy,” she said firmly.

Chapter Text

Percy stared down at the picture for a minute. It was a stadium this time, with a bunch of grapes drawn on the side, and looking at it opened up a hollow in his chest.

“Percy, do you think you’re ready for this one?” Raine asked after a while.

Percy hesitated, then nodded and put the picture between them. Then he met her eyes.

“I don’t think Mr. D cares about us after all,” he said quietly.

Raine’s eyes softened with sympathy, and she prompted, “What happened?”

“When we first ran into him,” Percy said, looking back at the picture, “he said that we’d need to give him a massive tribute to earn his help against the giants.” He glanced at Raine. “To kill a giant, you need a god and a demigod to work together, so we didn’t really have any choice. And we did that. A ship attacked us and we like, scared off the pirates. Filled the ship with Diet Coke, left all six million in gold and jewels on board, and sacrificed it to Bacchus.”

He took a deep breath. He didn’t know whether it was rage or hurt making his body tremble, but he didn’t appreciate it either way.

“So when we reached the giants in Rome,” Percy said, “we asked for his help. And he came.” He closed his eyes.

“And then what happened?”

“He summoned an audience,” Percy muttered, voice rough and graveled. “He told us that our tribute had earned his attention, a-and if we gave him a good show, he’d help us.” He took a deep, slow breath, then clenched and unclenched his hands. “He wanted a show. Weeks of sailing and fighting and, and being scared to walk on the ground, and he wanted a fucking show.”

“Then what happened?”

“What choice did we have?” Percy said bitterly. “We fought, Jason and I, while Bacchus sat there and ate Doritos. We came up with an okay plan, but it wasn’t enough, not with two giants against two half-bloods, especially when we were both already tired. If the Argo hadn’t showed up when it did, we would’ve died.”

“But it did,” Raine prompted. Percy nodded.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Thank fuck for Leo and his ship. Set off a Greek firebomb and took Ephialtes down.” His fists clenched. “And then Bacchus comes down and says that he’d decided that we were worthy partners for this fight, and he went and smacked both giants with his stupid pinecone staff, and they died. That was it.”

Percy took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Do you know how powerful gods are?” he asked, voice breaking. “Have you seen a god fight? He could have made that fight into a joke. He could have made it easy. But he just watched. I, I don’t understand.”

“Do you know how much difference there is between Bacchus and Mr. D?” Raine asked quietly.

“No,” Percy admitted, throat tight. “But Mr. D won’t look me in the eye.”

Raine nodded, soft and solemn. “How did you feel when Bacchus first asked you for tribute?”

Percy exhaled and rolled his shoulders trying to force himself to loosen. “Annoyed,” he said at last. “But that’s pretty much par for the course with the gods. Um, Piper had gotten a vision that said Bacchus would help us, but he just laughed in our faces. I... I didn’t think much of it at the time, I guess.”

“And when you gave him the tribute?”

Percy smiled bitterly.

“I felt good about it,” he said. “The pirates, they were, uh, they were mythical, because of course they were, and they were scared of Mr. D. So I pretended Mr. D was around to scare them off, and it worked, and we sacrificed the ship and he accepted it. I thought that was it. We'd earned his help."

“How did you feel when you called him?”

“We didn’t call him,” Percy said, slowly dragging up the memory. “The tribute was, uh, it was conditional, I guess. A sacrifice in exchange for his help.” He exhaled. “He... gods. Remembering it now, we’d- we’d killed the giants already by the time he finally showed up. But they reformed, because we needed a god to do it properly.”

“How did you feel when he showed up?” Raine repeated patiently.

“I was pleased,” Percy said. “Relieved, even. We- I mean, we killed them and they didn’t die because we didn’t have a god on our side, and now we did. Problem solved. I almost laughed at a couple points, because he showed up and started insulting the giants – um, they were like, the anti-Dionysus, so they were obsessed with upstaging him. Lots of theater stuff. And Bacchus just went around telling them their show was tacky.” He almost smiled, but the urge vanished quickly. “And then Jason kinda hinted at wanting to get on with it, and... Bacchus told us to go ahead.”

“How did you feel then?”

“Confused,” Percy said quietly. “Then annoyed. Then fucking furious.” He took a breath. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Why didn’t he care? Why was he acting like this didn’t have anything to do with him? Mà tḕn Hestia, these were his enemies. They were trying to upstage him, they were born and designed to kill him. Why did he just sit there?”

“But you fought anyway,” Raine prompted softly.

“I had to,” Percy said, voice cracking again. “We had to. They wouldn’t have let us get away, not when Gaea told them to kill us, and- and someone had to make sure they died! Someone had to put a, a fucking ounce of effort into making sure Gaea didn’t rise! And apparently Mr. D wasn’t going to do it!” He couldn’t see for the tears clouding his eyes. “Apparently none of the gods were going to do it!”

Percy started sobbing, loudly. He muffled it into his stuffed shark, trying not to disturb the other patients, and Raine waited patiently while he cried.

When maybe a fraction of his hurt and betrayal had soaked into the soft toy, Percy’s breath started to even out, and eventually he managed to suck in enough deep breaths to speak again.

“Mr. D watched me grow up,” he said at last, voice shaking so badly that it would be a miracle if Raine understood him. “He’s known me since I was twelve, he, he’s knocked on my cabin door to talk to me, he taught me how to play pinochle. He... was he going to just watch me die?”

“You know I can’t answer that for you,” Raine murmured. Percy hugged the toy.

“I know,” he admitted, exhaustion weighing down his voice. “I just... I really thought he cared.”

“Betrayal hits you hard,” Raine acknowledged softly. “If you want to try and salvage your opinion of him, perhaps you could ask Mr. D about it, see if he isn’t responsible for Bacchus’ actions after all. If you don’t...” She shook her head. “No one would blame you.”

Percy’s throat tightened again, and he swallowed twice before he replied.

“I don’t know if I’m that brave,” he admitted. “I mean... I think I’d feel better if I knew for sure that Bacchus didn’t care about the people Mr. D does. But what if he does? What if he just laughs in my face for ever thinking he gave a shit? I, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I can’t answer that for you,” Raine repeated quietly.

Percy nodded numbly, and then pushed determinedly past the conversation.

“It was a huge relief when the Argo showed up,” he said. “Jason and I are good, but we were exhausted. Ephialtes would have killed us if they hadn’t shown up when they did.” He exhaled. “And then Bacchus came down and started... strutting around, showing off to the crowd, like he was this grand finale. And that was it. He came over, told us to continue our quest, and...”

The blood drained from Percy’s face.

“Percy?” Raine called worriedly.

Percy coughed, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, but the anti-nausea med seemed to be working, and it didn’t go any further than that. He struggled to gain control of his breath, and after a moment he reached for Montauk, calling up the vivid memory of campfire smoke and corn chips and sea wind.

When he felt ready, he pushed himself back up, oddly exhausted by the effort.

“He, he told me,” Percy rasped, “that... that my voyage would be harder than I expected, a-and... he told me where to find Annabeth.” He swallowed. “We fell into Tartarus less than an hour later.” His fists clenched. “Maláka! Aischrós koprophágos mētrokoítēs! Bínei heautoû! Rhaphanidoû!”

He had more to say, but it wasn’t really making him feel any better, so he stopped, hugging Fang tightly instead.

“Do you think he knew?” Raine asked delicately.

“He definitely knew,” Percy snapped, slumping back in misery. “Coward. Coward. He’d probably piss himself if someone even suggested he go to Tartarus and he just, he just stood there and smiled.” He hugged himself and shuddered. “I... no. I don’t want to talk about that any more right now. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Raine soothed immediately, moving to shift gears. “We can talk about that another time.”

Downside of St. Joan’s hosting so many mortal kids: litter sometimes accumulated in the forest and stream. Not a ton, not like they were going out of their way to toss stuff there, but it was a bunch of mortal teenagers with a lot on their minds. Candy wrappers, plastic bags, hairbands and pens got forgotten. Uninterested in his usual activities, Percy grabbed a bag and walked down the path to collect them.

“Hey, you want some help with that?”

He cast a startled glance over his shoulder, where Sofia was catching up to him, glancing around curiously. When he didn’t answer right away, she leaned down, grabbed a bottle cap, and dropped it in his bag.

“Sure,” he said belatedly, picking up a stray paperclip and a Jolly Rancher wrapper. “More the merrier.”

“I didn’t take you for an environmentalist,” Sofia commented without heat, starting to collect things in one hand.

Percy’s mind flickered to Pan in the labyrinth, that last breath of wild air before he passed. “All in what you see, I guess.”

They collected trash until they reached the stream, and then Percy slid down the bank to check the river stones. Grocery bags, plastic bottles – Percy suspected they’d washed in from upstream.

“You’re a demigod, right?” Sofia said unexpectedly. “Mai told me.”

Percy paused, glancing over at her, then nodded. “Son of Poseidon,” he said. He shook the bag of litter. “Pollution is pretty hard on nature spirits, so I pick stuff up when I have time.”

“I never thought about that.” Sofia kept working a few yards away, even kneeling in the shallow water so her jeans got wet. “Are you okay? You’ve been spending a lot of time by yourself.”

“Just not feeling up to hanging out,” Percy said. “My last quest was kind of tough, and I’m having trouble adjusting. Sorry. I know you probably have a lot of questions.”

“It’s okay, Mai answered the big ones,” Sofia said. She glanced over at Percy, thoughtful. “Wanna talk about it? I know you can’t really share with most of the others.”

Percy hesitated, and was surprised to realize that he did kind of want to talk about it.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it,” he said at last, still fishing trash out of the stream. Sofia shifted to angle herself toward him, but kept working diligently. “I’ve never been on a quest so awful before.”

“What was awful about it?”

Percy laughed. It wasn’t nice. “What wasn’t? We had to travel further. We fought more monsters and got less help. Our enemies were stronger. The gods were crueler, when they were around at all. I don’t understand how this happened to us.” He took a deep breath. “Sorry. You’re dealing with your own stuff, you don’t need this.”

“Hey, I’m basically graduated,” Sofia dismissed. “And it sounds like a sympathetic ear is the least of what you need.”

Percy’s chuckle was a little more natural this time. “I don’t understand how this happened,” he repeated softly. “I keep thinking that I must have done something to deserve this. Nothing else makes sense.”

Sofia made a sound of recognition. “Oh, you’re type A and B, aren’t you?”

“What?” Percy stared at her, jolted from his thoughts. Sofia flushed.

“Uh, an abuse survivor and a myth kid,” she explained. “Patient type A, patient type B.”

Percy hummed in surprise. “How’d you know?”

Sofia shrugged. “Some of the other kids talk like that sometimes. They’re like, it rained on my birthday so I must have done something bad to get punished like that, and Cassia’s like, that’s not how weather works. You know what I’m talking about?”

The funny thing was, Percy did know what she was talking about.

“Yeah,” he conceded, relaxing for some reason. “It’s not a great combination. Are you just here for myth stuff?”

Sofia nodded. “My relationship with my parents isn’t great, but it’s, you know, fine. I got referred here because my mom kept sending me to psychologists for delusions and hallucinations.”

“Yikes,” Percy said sympathetically. “I’m sure that made you feel loads better.”

“You have no idea.” Sofia rolled her eyes. “I was starting to think I was actually crazy, but if I am, then so are half of the therapists here.” She shrugged with an easy smile. “But seriously. When I see a sphinx stalking some poor kid, at no point do I think, wow, they must be an asshole.”

Neither of them were working now, sitting on the bank with the bag of trash between them. Percy crossed his legs, watching the water flow by.

“How often does that happen?” he asked.

“How often do I see ‘em?” Sofia clarified. “Not that much. Every couple of years, I guess, but it’s hard to forget.” She leaned back on her hands. “I think I’ve seen it... twice. When I was seven I saw a snake lady trap someone in an alley, so I threw my apple at it ‘cause it was freaking me out. No idea if the kid got away, but they ran.” She watched the water for a moment. “I thought the snake lady was gonna come after me for a moment, but I guess that teenager was more interesting.”

“You gave them a chance,” Percy told her, about as much encouragement as he could offer. Sofia smiled at him.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Second time was last year. A sphinx at a carnival. I thought it was just the monster at first, ‘cause I see those a lot more, but then I saw a kid, like, pushing through the crowd, looking over their shoulder in a panic.”

That jiggled something in Percy’s memory. “What did you do?”

“Asked her about her costume,” Sofia said. “Scariest thing I’ve ever done. She seemed sort of baffled, but that’s it.” She grimaced. “Course, Mom was there, and what she saw was a lion on a leash.”

Percy snorted. “A lion on a leash?”

“Right?” Sofia agreed, exasperated. “But she freaked out and dragged me away.” She waved her hand. “Psychologists for months.”

“That sucks,” Percy said honestly. “But...” Sofia glanced at him in confusion, and Percy smiled at her. “I think that was Drew. She doesn’t leave camp much, ‘cause she’s got a strong scent for an Aphrodite kid, but she was visiting family last year. This was in Philadelphia, right? Sometime in spring?” Sofia looked surprised, and she nodded. “She mentioned getting away from a sphinx because a mortal girl started talking to it.” He bumped her gently, feeling warm. “She got back fine. Thanks.”

Sofia took a moment to absorb that, then smiled brightly.

“That’s normal, though,” Percy added, melancholia creeping back in against his will. “This last summer... I dunno. It feels like a punishment.”

“You know there’s literally no way that monsters rise and gods fall based on your bad behavior, right?” Sofia said. Percy stared at her. Sofia shifted. “That came out kind of harsh. But like... really.”

Percy blinked, and then laughed, dropping into the stream to brace on the ground.

“No one’s ever put it like that before,” he managed, once he could catch his breath. “They’re like, it’s not your fault, Percy, and there was nothing you could do, Percy. Not so much Gaea doesn’t care if you plagiarized your homework.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the more tactful way to say it,” Sofia muttered, embarrassed. Percy gave her a genuine smile.

“Yeah,” he said. “But you got it across better. Thanks.”

“This is weird,” Percy protested to Raine, crossing his arms to side-eye the empty chair.

“Everyone thinks it’s weird at first,” Raine assured him. “But once they begin expressing themselves, most patients find it to be extremely cathartic. Would you like some help getting started?”

“...Is that okay?” Percy asked, guarded.

“Of course,” Raine said. “Usually if a patient has trouble, it helps to repeat a few things they’ve said on the subject before.”

Percy put his hands in his pockets and glanced at the chair again. “Can you...?”

Raine looked directly at the chair. “It shouldn’t have been the responsibility of children to defeat the giants,” she said seriously. “And they shouldn’t have had to close the Doors of Death. Why didn’t you do that?”

The last sentence was like striking a match. Percy felt his anger spark and flare, and consciously let it take over.

“We already fought a war for you,” he said to the chair, said to Zeus. “Campers died, kids died, some so young that I taught them how to use a sword. Don’t you have any pride? Any sense of duty?”

Percy kicked the dirt. Chunks of soil and root sprayed across the ground, and it felt good.

“The only pride you have is your ego!” Percy spat. “You hate needing us so much, then why don’t you fucking stop? If you hated us fighting the Titans for you, then why didn’t you fight the giants yourself?”

A cloud crossed the sun, darkening the forest. Percy barely noticed.

“Why did you have to choose the shittiest fucking thing you could do?” Percy demanded. “You hated thanking us, so you just used us without saying thanks! Fuck you!” He kicked the chair, and it crashed against a tree. His vision glimmered brightly. “Fuck you, we owe you nothing! We don’t owe you sacrifices, we don’t owe you worship, we don’t even owe you fucking respect anymore! You lost that!”

He punched a tree, and the bark cracked under his hand, leaving the skin scraped and bleeding. It still felt good.

“Do you know how much the kids at camp would give just to meet their parents once?” Percy asked. It started to rain, wind whistling through the trees. “Butch sacrificed to his mom every day before he even knew who she was. Chris betrayed camp and came back loyal and he still hasn’t met his father. Drew wants more than anything to make her mom proud. And what do they get? What do you give them?” He kicked the dirt. “You give them this! You give them death, and war, and suffering! There are kids that died having never met their godly parent, kids that died fighting your battles! And you don’t even care! You don’t even care!”

A sob broke free, and he let his knees fold and sat on the ground.

“You don’t even care,” he repeated, with hot tears on his cheeks and chin. “You don’t care how hard it was for us to fight your battles, or close the Doors. You don’t care how scared we were, or if our camp gets destroyed. You don’t care if we die. You- you don’t care. You don’t care.”

Percy folded up and sobbed, letting the hurt flow out like an infection. After a minute, he felt Raine sit down nearby, but he didn’t move. Rain hammered against his back and shoulders.

“You’re supposed to be our parents,” he croaked at last, without unfolding. “Why are you doing this to us? What... what kind of parents are you?” He wiped his eyes and sat up, and tilted his head back to look at the sky and the rustling, swaying leaves above. “W-why do you keep having children? If you don’t want us, and you don’t like us – stop. Just stop having kids. This is awful. You’re awful.”

The sound of cracking sticks and leaves made Percy look up sharply, hand going to the pocket where he kept Riptide, but it was just Letitia, pushing her way through brush into the clearing. She looked harried, but she relaxed when she saw them.

“Everything alright here?” she asked.

Percy blinked at her owlishly. Tears were still running down his cheeks in streams.

“Ah,” Raine said. “Percy was expressing the anger he holds for the gods.”

“Yeah, that would do it,” Letitia said, and looked up. Percy looked up too. What had been a clear, sunny day had turned into a rainstorm with winds that sent the rain flying at a nearly forty-five degree angle.

“Oh. Was that me?” He knuckled at one eye, wincing. Yeah, there was the telltale tug in his gut. He let go, and while the wind faded and the rain slowed, the storm didn’t fade completely. There was something soothing about the lightened rainstorm, and he relaxed.

“Are you good now?” Letitia asked him. Percy stared up at the sky.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m good now.”

Letitia made eye contact with Raine, and then turned and left, pushing back through the brush. Raine moved closer.

“Do you feel better?” she asked gently. Percy hesitated, then nodded, eyes still on the storm.

“Yeah,” he repeated. “I... I’m still angry, obviously, but...” He trailed off.

“But you let it out,” Raine agreed. “You made room to let yourself feel other emotions. You found a lot of hurt in there, didn’t you?”

Percy hiccupped. While he wasn’t sobbing anymore, his vision still sparkled wetly. “Do you know how often kids knock on my cabin door to look for comfort? A couple times a week. After the camp gets attacked, it’s like... every day, for at least two weeks. Multiple times a day, sometimes. Hell, this last time, there were a couple days when I barely got five minutes to myself between comforting campers.” He hugged himself. “What am I supposed to tell them when they ask why the gods let this happen? Am I... am I just fooling myself when I tell them that the gods are trying?”

“Oftentimes, biological family falls short of what we need,” Raine said quietly. “Far short, sometimes. That isn’t something you can fix for them, and it’s something that will always hurt. All you can do is be family to each other.”

“They deserve better,” Percy said. The rain slowed and thinned.

“So do you,” Raine said. “So does everyone whose family fails them. But we don’t live in a perfect world. The best that we can ever do is to make it good.”

The sky cracked, and a rainbow spilled out.

Chapter Text

Since Percy’s last stay here, the yoga teacher-therapist, Vanessa, had rotated out for her break, and another teacher-therapist, Mai, had rotated in. Mai taught tai chi, and Percy immediately liked it better. Most yoga positions left you wide open and vulnerable, and it made Percy too nervous to relax. But tai chi was for fighters, or at least, it could be used for fighting. It showed in the shape of the stretches and movements it called for, and especially in how you never had to go face-down, ass-up.

Mai also had an omega symbol on her breast pocket. Percy wondered if that had anything to do with why she’d learned a martial art.

“A little slower, Percy,” Mai coached, tilting her head to look past Lucy. “You’re doing an excellent job of remembering the forms, but I’d like you to focus on your body rather than the movement itself.”

Percy nodded, furrowing his brow as he focused. It was close enough to doing sword forms that he automatically wanted to fall into that mindset, but there was no speed or power to improve here. He was just supposed to...

Breathe in, one two three four five. Breathe out, one two three four five. The gentle pull of muscles and tendons as he stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, and slowly rotated his hips like he was loosening for a spar. This was beginner’s tai chi, so the routine itself was pretty simple, and Percy’s own training made it easy to adapt. He wondered how expensive tai chi lessons were.

“Um, Mai?”

“Percy, is something the matter?”

Confused, Percy opened his eyes. Everyone was looking at him. “...Uh, no?”

“You were scowling rather harshly,” Mai explained. “Amethyst was concerned.”

“Hey, why you gotta out me like that?” Amethyst protested, flushing uncomfortably.

“Oh.” Percy consciously tried to soften his expression, his own cheeks heating up pink. “Sorry. I was just concentrating. I like this better than yoga.”

Mai considered him for a moment, then accepted the response with a nod and glanced at a clearly embarrassed Amethyst. “It’s not a bad thing to express concern for others,” she said, easily reading her expression. “It was nothing this time, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong to worry.”

Amethyst shrugged and glanced away, and didn’t fall back into position until Mai had returned to the front. Mai distracted them with a new set, and Percy followed along, but his mind was elsewhere now.

He didn’t look that scary when he scowled, did he?

He’d heard it before, of course – when he was fifteen, when he was fourteen, when he was twelve. Hell, he’d heard it from teachers and classmates when he was in elementary. But as the years went by, the tone of the comments had gone from bemused to intimidated. It wasn’t funny anymore.

Percy twisted slowly, pleased with the way it stretched out his hips and back, and then the other way. He reached back, stretching out his shoulder, and exhaled in satisfaction when he released the pose. He pushed the worry out of his mind.

Instead, he thought about his dad. They hadn’t gotten much of a chance to speak when they’d fought the giants, though Poseidon had looked like he’d wanted to. There just hadn’t been time. And even though he was bursting with things he wanted to say to Poseidon, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to pray since then. He was afraid that he was going to lose it halfway through, and start ranting or crying. That wasn’t what he wanted his prayers to be for.

Had his dad known when he and Annabeth fell into Tartarus? Had Athena? Had they heard about it afterward? Percy didn’t know. Just because Olympus’ stony silence had ended didn’t mean the gods were feeling chatty.

But no matter the feelings of betrayal and hurt, Percy- well, like the year before, he just wanted his dad to be there for him. Hell, Poseidon would probably even come close to understanding what he and Annabeth had been through. If he would say something, anything, it would mean the world.

Percy was angry with the gods, resentful and afraid. But he still couldn’t bring himself to hate his dad. And wasn’t that exactly what kept all the kids in Camp Half-Blood stuck in this awful cycle?

The next time Mai spoke, she was so close that it made Percy jump.

“None of that, Percy. Focus on your body. You’re trying to relax, not worry.”

Percy looked up to meet her eyes, and she tapped his forehead with one finger. Consciously, he relaxed his expression again, and she nodded.

“This isn’t training,” she reminded him, stepping back. “You don’t need to move with speed or strength, and you have no opponent to watch. Feel the tension in your body, and let it go.”

Percy nodded, and she moved along again.

Later, in the art house, Percy sat near Violetta while both of them practiced drawing their feelings. He scowled down at his work. He sucked at art. Wait, dammit-

“You’re kind of hard to get a read on, you know that?”

Startled, Percy glanced over. Violetta was still looking down, where the sketched outline of a horse was starting to take shape. She was drawing in her own sketchbook, instead of some of the paper Lucas provided.

“Most people think it’s easiest to just say I’m a dumbass,” he told her, flashing a dry smile. “I won’t be offended or anything if you do too.”

“Uh, that was not on the list,” Violetta said, glancing at him with what seemed to be genuine confusion.

“Oh.”

Violetta seemed to discard that and rocked in place for a moment, seemingly gathering herself before she continued. “I thought at first that you’d be like George, like, rude and defensive all the time. You look like it.”

“Sorry,” Percy said. Violetta ignored this too.

“Sofia pointed out yesterday that you never tense up when one of us stops by,” she said. “Just when someone comes from out of sight, or when a noise does.”

Percy shifted uncomfortably. “What about it?”

Violetta shrugged. “Thinking. It’s not us that you’re uncomfortable around at all, is it? It’s something else.”

Percy hesitated, staring down at his work, and then sighed and nodded.

“Nervous all the time these days,” he muttered, tapping his eraser on the paper. “Losing too many fights in a row will do that to you, I guess.”

Violetta nodded, and then, without preamble, changed the subject. “You seem upset.”

Percy watched her for a second, considering, and then exhaled.

“Thinking about my dad,” he admitted, looking down again. He was trying to draw Poseidon with Triton and Amphitrite, but it wasn’t going very well. Fish shapes, he had down. People shapes? Not so much. “I had kind of a big falling out with his side of the family, but Dad wasn’t part of it, and I miss him.”

Violetta raised an eyebrow. “He wasn’t...?” She made a vague gesture to the facility in general, and Percy shook his head.

“Not my mom either,” he said. “It was someone else.” He played with the pencil in his hands, and then continued, “Right before we had the falling-out, I promised to call my dad more often, and I was starting to do that. But then...” He trailed off, staring at the paper in his lap.

“Then the coma and stuff, right?” Violetta asked. Percy nodded, warmed and grateful that she’d remembered his rambled excuse. “Was it related?”

Percy debated with himself for a moment, then relented. “His sister kind of caused it. And she still says she didn’t do anything wrong.”

Violetta whistled.

“You like your dad, though?” Violetta asked. Percy nodded. “You should call him then.” Percy glanced at her, surprised, and Violetta flushed and shrugged uncomfortably. “Hey, family bonds aren’t easy to replace. If you think you can keep this one, go for it.” A hint of bitterness coated her voice. “If I could make my dad love me...”

Percy smiled at her. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “If your dad doesn’t like you, he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Violetta snorted, flashing a smile back, and relaxed. After another minute, she said, “We’ve been playing kickball after dinner most days. I know you’ve been spending a lot of your time alone, but you can join us if you want.”

Percy smiled again, surprised but grateful. “Yeah. I think I’d like that. Thanks.”

The next morning, Percy woke up and found a note on his nightstand. As soon as he read it, he promised to burn something for his father at breakfast.

Wear this to dream of the sea, the note said. Coiled on top of it was a delicate celestial bronze chain, with a caged pearl pendant. If he looked closely, he could see a trident etched onto the surface of the pearl.

“Thanks, Dad,” he said softly. He put it on. Even if it didn’t work, the acknowledgement alone was nearly enough to make him cry.

He showed it to Raine as soon as he walked into her office that morning.

“I talked to my dad for the first time in a while last night,” he told her. “I mean, for the first time since before Hera kidnapped me. I, um, kind of broke down a bit, because I wanted to tell him how I was doing but I didn’t want to seem like a baby either. And I, I asked him to say something to me however he could. When I woke up, I found this on my nightstand.”

“What do you think of it?” Raine asked, the edges of her expression sanded off so he couldn’t tell what she thought first. Percy surprised himself by smiling.

“I really like it,” he said honestly, twisting the chain around his fingers. “I mean, it’s not my usual style – it’s more something I would get for Annabeth, probably. But gods aren’t really allowed to talk to their children at all, so communication of any kind is really special. And you can say a lot with a gift.” He tapped the caged pearl with his thumb. “Even if this necklace isn’t magic – I won’t know ‘til I sleep tonight – I know that Dad knows I’m having nightmares, and that he’s sorry about it.”

“I can tell that means a lot to you,” Raine said. “What made you decide to pray last night? Did something happen?”

Percy shrugged, looking back down at the necklace. He pressed his thumb against the cage and rolled it gently back and forth over his palm. “Not really- I mean, not last night, exactly. I kind of wanted to start again even while we were sailing on the Argo, but I knew he’d be too out of it to hear me. And after that I was too angry. But I’ve, um, I felt better after you had me yell in the woods. I felt like I could talk to him without getting mad.” A smile flickered across his face. “And I did.”

“That’s very good,” Raine said firmly. “I’m proud of you for taking this step on your own.” Percy beamed. “Is your father an exception to what you said that day? You expressed some strong feelings on the parenting ability of the gods.”

Percy’s smile faded.

“...Some of that stuff was stuff I didn’t mean at all,” he conceded after a moment. “Like, I’m mostly over resenting being born, and I understand why they weren’t involved for most of this quest. Really. Things got out of hand. But... yeah. It still hurts, and I wish that Dad had been around to help.” He shrugged. “But he’s my dad. Despite everything, I love him, and he loves me the best he can. He’s not a perfect dad, or even an okay one, but... he loves me. That means a lot.”

“Do you think you have a healthy relationship with your father?” Raine asked.

Percy leaned forward to think about it, rocking his chair on two legs while he leaned against the back. “I remember thinking about this last year, but I can’t remember what I decided,” he said. “It’s hard to say, you know? It doesn’t make sense to judge Dad by what a mortal dad is supposed to do. He has rules he has to follow, and obligations and stuff. It’s not like he doesn’t care, or that he isn’t trying. It’s just different for us.”

He must have remained silent for a few seconds too long after that, because Raine prompted, “Do you think you’re putting similar amounts of energy into your relationship?”

“...Yeah,” Percy decided. “He really does try. And I don’t think I’ve ever prayed for help without him answering.” He met Raine’s eyes. “That means a lot to a demigod. They’re not supposed to interfere, but I think all of us ask for help anyway, when we’re desperate. Whether or not they answer...” He shrugged. “The one time I asked Thalia to pray to her dad, she almost didn’t do it because he’d never answered her before.” He fidgeted with the jewelry chain, and then added, “That’s why I think Athena can still save her relationship with Annabeth. She’s always answered Annabeth’s prayers, too.”

“Can you tell me how you reconcile that with your frustrations?” Raine asked. Percy exhaled.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “It’s not that they don’t care, even if it feels like that. But I don’t think they understand what’s at stake for us. They have all eternity, you know? I guess us fighting for a few extra years doesn’t seem like much.” He wrapped the chain around his fingers. “I don’t know how to make them understand how much every day matters to us, or how hard simple things can be.” He flipped his hand over to dangle the pendant, watching it sway. “Athena’s been throwing all of her favorite children into the garbage chute for thousands of years. I’ve been... trying to understand it.” He glanced up and found Raine’s expression pinched. “What?”

“Garbage chute?” Raine asked. Percy snapped his fingers in understanding.

“The Mark of Athena quest,” he explained. “Athena’s been sending her smartest kids to find the Athena Parthenos since Rome stole it, thousands of years ago. And they haven’t come back alive, ever.” He looked down. “Athena loves Annabeth. I really believe that. So why would she send her on a suicide mission?” He flipped his hand again, letting the pendant land in his palm. “I think... I think the gods prioritize things that last. If Annabeth succeeded, she’d be a legend. Her name would last for centuries, way longer than her life ever would. Why wouldn’t she risk her life for that?” Percy sighed. “They don’t get it. They... they don’t get that a life can be worth living without making any mark at all.” He shrugged. “A hundred years from now, no one’s going to remember my mom’s name except maybe Thalia and Dad. Doesn’t stop her from being the best person in the world.”

“It sounds like you’re starting to untangle your feelings on the subject,” Raine pointed out. Percy sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, kinda,” he conceded. “Doesn’t tell me how to fix it, though. How can I explain to Athena that Annabeth’s mad because Athena assumed she’d rather be a legend than grow up, get her dream job, and die at an old age? How do you make a god understand how much it means just to live a human life?” Flip, watching it dangle. “Zeus didn’t get it either. He didn’t get why I’d rather be a mortal than a god. But I mean... I’d be happy to be forgotten in a few decades if it meant Annabeth and I could raise kids together. No monsters, no quests, just...” He trailed off.

“I see,” Raine said softly. “Are there other things that you can see eye to eye on? Thoughts about family?”

Percy smiled and flicked his hand, letting the pendant swing and wrap around his finger, then unwrap and wrap the other way. “Yeah. Hermes told me once that families are messy, and immortal families are eternally messy. I think about that a lot when I’m frustrated with the gods.” He swung the pendant back. “Hestia told me that knowing when to yield can be one of the hardest things to learn. It’s been really good advice when I’m too stubborn for my own good.” Swing. “And Dad... You know he offered Mom an underwater palace? He would have given her everything she ever wanted. But what she wanted was to live her own life.” Swing. “That... I think about that a lot, too. Both about Mom living her own life, and... and Dad letting her.”

“What did you take away from that?” Raine asked, curiosity bleeding into her voice.

Percy considered it, switching the hand he was playing with the pendant in. “Um, what Mom said exactly was that, if her life was going to mean anything, she had to live it herself. She couldn’t let Dad fix all her problems with a wave of his hand.” Spin. “And I get that. If you never have to work for anything, you never achieve anything. What are you supposed to be living for then?” He shrugged. “And Dad understood that. He let Mom struggle because he knew she needed to succeed with her own strength.” He bounced the pendant in his palm. “I think... that’s probably why Dad wasn’t upset when I turned down immortality. He knew I was too much like Mom to want all of my problems to disappear.”

“But you still ask for help?”

“Course I do,” Percy said. “Sometimes I’m six hundred feet in the air, facing a monster I know I can’t beat. Can’t do anything but pray then.” Drop and twirl. The pearl rattled around in its cage. “But it’s my choice then. I still faced the problem. You know?”

Raine smiled at him. “Yes, I believe I understand.”

Chapter Text

“No,” Cassia said, soft-spoken but firm, almost before Percy had finished talking. He took a half-step back, surprised by how hurt he felt, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. “I believe you need to have control over your self-image right now, so we can focus on activities where you pick your own positives, but I’m not comfortable with allowing you to skip our self-esteem sessions. Not when your self-esteem is one of the main reasons for your being here.”

Percy shuffled, kicking at the ground. “What if I freak out and ruin everything anyway?”

“This is a therapeutic facility, Percy,” Cassia said, humor dancing in her eyes. “You won’t be the first or the last to have an outburst during group activities, even our Friday ones.” She lowered her voice. “Therapy isn’t just about processing old trauma. It’s also for learning how to deal with anything that might happen in the future. We don’t want anyone to be triggered here, of course, but sometimes it happens anyway, and that’s fine. That’s okay.”

Percy stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. “Like last time,” he said. “When I hit Jet.”

“Like that, yes,” Cassia agreed, with more sympathy than he’d expected. “In an ideal world, you would have both been able to respect each other’s emotions and needs, but both of you were hurting, and that simply didn’t happen.” She shrugged. “Sometimes aggressive outbursts are unavoidable. Everyone here got an important lesson on how to process and respond to them that day.”

“It’s still gonna be really embarrassing if I break down because someone said something nice.”

“No one will laugh,” Cassia said, with unwavering confidence. “Obvious signs of distress aren’t funny anywhere, but especially not here.” She paused, and then, after a moment, she asked, “Was there something in particular you were worried about?”

Percy hesitated, fidgeting with his sleeves. “...Cassia? Am I scaring the other kids?”

Cassia tilted her head to glance at him, surprised and then sad.

“They’re not afraid of you,” she said. “They’re... uncertain. They’re not sure whether you want company or space. To be honest, I’m not even sure you know.”

It was true. Unfortunately, Percy’s mood had soured with the separation from his family, so he’d spent quite a few hours in secluded corners of the art house or out in the woods by himself. The other kids reached out every once in a while, but a lot of the time, he didn’t even give them the chance.

Percy sighed. It felt heavier than the shallow huff could account for. “I did alright for the first month or so after I came back,” he said on impulse. “I was comforting kids and putting them to bed and staying up with them, cheering people up with midnight picnics, keeping the mood up during campfire. But after I got home... it’s like I forgot how to do a lot of that. I’m not myself anymore.”

“Have you talked to Raine about this?” Cassia asked gently. Percy huffed.

“A little,” he mumbled. “She just said that I went through a lot of trauma in a really short amount of time, so it makes sense that I changed. But...”

He stared at the floor between them.

“Is it that you don’t like it, or that it scares you?” Cassia asked him.

“Both,” Percy admitted. He took a half-step forward, then back.  “I guess...” He faltered. “Sorry. I should probably bring this to Raine again, huh?”

“That’s alright,” Cassia said kindly. “You should revisit it with Raine as well, but I’m happy to listen.”

Percy relaxed. “A lot of the stuff I do like about myself is the same stuff I don’t remember how to do,” he said softly. “I’ve always liked making people laugh. And I’m usually good at reaching out to ask people to play games and stuff. And I like cheering people up.” He tangled his fingers together, and Cassia waited patiently. “If all that’s gone, there’s nothing good about me at all.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Cassia said. “All of those things are skills, and to a certain degree, they’ll always come and go. But you’re still you, Percy – you still have your compassion, your courage, your capacity to love. Those things just might express themselves differently for a little while.” Percy didn’t look up, and his shoulders bowed a little under an invisible weight. “Percy, you are not okay. Of course you’re not feeling like yourself. But you’ll get those things back.”

Percy twiddled his thumbs. “Raine keeps saying that too. That it’ll just... pass.”

“And it will,” Cassia said. “Things can’t keep getting worse forever. Eventually, there’s nowhere to go but up.”

“Things can always get worse,” Percy said, before he could think better of it.

Cassia didn’t respond right away.

“I don’t know what happened to you this year,” Cassia said at last, voice soft. “But it’s clearly put you in a very dark place. It will take a lot of strength on your part to pull yourself out of it, even with help.” She brushed her fingers over his wrist, so gentle that it made his fingers twitch. “I want you to try to remember that your heart is lying to you. The knowledge that something worse may happen is no reason to assume that it will. You’re afraid, and it’s changing your perception. Listen to the people you trust when they tell you that you’re safe.”

Percy turned his hands over, rubbed his wrist with his thumb, and tried to force unfriendly thoughts away. “It wasn’t this hard last time.”

“You had a lot more hope last year, I think,” Cassia murmured, and then tilted her head toward the door. “Is there someone you can call? It seems to me that you need comfort from someone you’re a little closer to.”

Percy hesitated, then nodded.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I’ll call Mom.”

It’ll make her sad, his shoulder devil scolded. Don’t bother her like that. Just go to your room and lie down until you’re over it. You should punish yourself for even thinking about it.

Mom likes it when I call, he told himself. And she’s always made time to comfort me when I needed it. She won’t mind.

He wanted to see her face, he decided, so he headed to his room anyway and dug his prism and a drachma out of the desk and set it on the windowsill.

“Oh Fleecy, do me a solid,” he said, and tossed the coin into the rainbow. “Show me Sally Jackson, at home.”

The rainbow shimmered, and he felt himself relax as he saw Sally on the couch, working on her laptop. She was frowning, playing with her hair as she thought about something, and he figured she wouldn’t mind an interruption. “Hey, Mom.”

Sally startled, and it took her a moment to locate the Iris message beside her. Her eyes softened as soon as she saw him, and she pushed her computer aside. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s good to see you, but is something the matter?”

“I’m okay,” Percy assured her, already feeling better. He leaned on the desk and smiled, as reassuring as she could make it. “I just wanted to see you. I’m, um, kind of in a mood today.” He grabbed a spinner to play with and set it whirling. “Mom, have I been different since I got back?”

He glanced up to see Sally’s forehead pinch in concern, and she shifted to face him better, tucking her hair out of her face.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she said after a minute. “You’ve been preoccupied, of course, and sick at heart. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve changed. It just means you’re unwell.” She studied him. “Are you worried about it?”

Percy shrugged, then nodded. “I feel different,” he told her. “I mean... I don’t know. All of the other kids here are struggling so much, you know? And I want to talk to them about it, but it's like I can’t get there. I’ve never felt like that before. I've never just not been able to do that stuff.”

He could see Sally thinking about that for a while, and then her expression softened as she seemed to come to an understanding.

“Has anyone ever told you, you can’t pour from an empty cup?” Sally asked him. Percy shook his head, but frowned.

“It does kinda ring a bell,” he admitted.

“I felt like that a lot when I was taking care of my uncle,” she said. “I wanted to reach out to people, but I was too tired, too worried, and too sad. Goodness, I would have been your age then.” She smiled at him, gentle and compassionate. “That’s where you are now – too tired, too worried, and too sad. You’ll feel better when you get some rest.”

Something about connecting to such a dark part of his mom’s life comforted Percy, and he found himself smiling back.

“You can all take your time with these, because we’re not going to be sharing them today,” Cassia said. “We’ll be working on them today, but you’ll have all weekend to finish, and you can share what you’re comfortable with on Monday.”

“Letters to ourselves?” Amethyst read, glancing at Cassia with a raised eyebrow. Cassia smiled and nodded.

“Three of them,” she said. “One letter to your past self, with anything you’d want them to know. One letter to your future self, with anything you want to know now. And a thank you letter to your present self.”

“Cassia, you’re killing me,” Percy whined, flopping dramatically against the wall. Cassia chuckled, glancing over with a rueful smile.

“I thought you and Mike could do video blogs instead,” she said. “You can each take a laptop from the corner cabinet, and I have a flash drive for each of you so you can take your ‘letters’ home.”

Percy considered that, and then shrugged and nodded. “Okay. But, um, does that mean we have to do it in here? Like, out loud?”

“I’d prefer the laptops stayed here, but if it makes you more comfortable, you can do your recordings when the room is empty,” Cassia said. “Today we’re going to be brainstorming what kinds of things we can say in these letters. Now, first, why might we want to send a letter to our past selves?”

A few of them glanced warily at each other, but eventually Lucy put her hand up. “Because we’ve learned and grown since then?” she offered uncertainly. “And there are things that would’ve been easier if we’d known them back then.”

“Exactly right,” Cassia said. “Would anyone like to share ideas?”

“It would’ve been nice to know that all of my relationships with boys failed because I’m a lesbian,” Amethyst deadpanned, and then winked at Lucy, who managed a smile back.

“That’s a very good example,” Cassia encouraged. “Ruya?”

Ruya fidgeted with her clothes. “Can I tell myself to tell a teacher what was happening at home sooner?” she asked, soft and halting.

“Yes, you can,” Cassia said gently. “That was a hard decision for you to make, and it might be comforting to imagine helping your younger self to make that decision.” She turned her head slightly, directing her next words to the rest of the room as well. “But be kind to yourselves. There’s no need to berate the person you used to be.”

Percy bit down a joke about losing half his letter. Ruya managed a smile, and Mike hopped in.

“Winning isn’t everything,” he said, with a snap of bitterness.

Cassia hummed, and then said, “Try to think of your past self as... the younger student in a buddy program. How would you phrase that sentiment to help that child learn?”

Mike deflated, though he didn’t look entirely mollified. “I guess... everyone loses sometimes, and it doesn’t mean I did anything wrong?” He fiddled with a shoelace. “Losing sometimes is just part of playing a game.”

“Perfect,” Cassia said. “Percy?”

Percy winced and played around with a foam ball in his lap. “I’d tell him to hold on,” he said after a minute, “because someday he’ll have better friends than he can imagine, and it’ll make everything up ‘til then worth it.”

Gods, if he’d known about the friends he’d someday have... well, he would have been a much less bitter kid. He smiled a little.

They discussed that for a while longer. It was more uplifting than Percy would’ve assumed, talking about how they could encourage and support their younger selves. Maybe they couldn’t actually make it happen, but it was- nice, to think of his past self as needing and deserving advice and reassurance. In fact, Percy thought it was probably the best group session he’d had since he came back to St. Joan’s.

They took turns as they thought of things, slowly warming up to the topic. Lucy talked about telling herself that her orientation was nothing to be afraid of, that her friend Hope’s family would take her in without a second thought, and that everything would work out. Sofia spoke for a while about accepting her interest in mechanics and getting closer to her grandfather, who Percy gathered was more supportive than her parents. Violetta, with visible difficulty, managed a few stiff sentences about telling herself not to diet and not to listen to her mother.

“For the second part, I’d like you to take the other perspective,” Cassia explained. “Think of what you just decided to tell your younger selves. Now think about what you would ask your older self, if you could – what parts of your future are you worried about? Where do you need to be reassured?”

“I’d want to know if things really do get better,” Violetta said almost instantly, and then flushed, crossed her arms, and looked away.

“Isn’t that always the question to ask during bad times?” Cassia asked, giving Violetta a small smile. “What would you want to know more specifically?”

Violetta hesitated, looking unhappy to be put on the spot. “If I reconcile with my mom, I guess, and if Mom ever leaves Dad. And...” She faltered. “Uh, what if we want to ask but know we’re not supposed to want to?”

Cassia considered her thoughtfully for a moment, and finally decided, “You don’t have to censor yourself. This activity is meant to address your worries and insecurities, so it would be counterproductive not to voice them.”

Violetta nodded and leaned back, uncomfortable. “I’d want to ask if I ever manage to keep weight off,” she admitted. “And, um, if the scars fade.”

Without meaning to, Percy glanced down at her long sleeves. Of course. Violetta didn’t miss it, and her cheeks colored while she tugged them down. Percy winced apologetically and looked back at Cassia.

“If things got better was my first thought too,” he offered. Cassia didn’t look surprised. “I’d want to know if me and Annabeth get to go to college together, and if I start sleeping through the night again. I’d... want to know if my summer camp was doing okay, and... if I stopped wanting to hurt myself.” He hesitated, then smiled a little and added, “And I’d want to know if I had a little sibling yet.”

Cassia smiled at him, and then said to the larger group, “That’s an excellent addition. If you have anything you’re looking forward to, you can ask about that as well.”

Percy took a breath, then hit ‘record’ for the third time.

“So, uh, I did the other two letters first,” he said awkwardly, watching himself in the webcam. “The letter to my past self and the letter to my future self, and now I’ve just got the thank you letter left.” He paused, glancing around the room. It was weird to be in the playroom when group wasn’t in session. “It’s kind of tying my mind in a knot to thank myself for being nice to me, but I guess that’s the point.”

He faltered again, tapping the edge of the laptop restlessly. The little red recording light blinked at him.

“I think... I mostly want to say thanks for never giving up,” he said. One sentence in and his chest was already tightening weirdly. “Thanks for trying at school even when it sucked, and for sticking it out at camp even when you didn’t have friends there yet. And for pushing through all those quests because you knew it mattered.” He grabbed a tangle off the shelf to twist it around. “And I guess... thanks for sticking up for yourself. Against Gabe and bullies and people who wanted to kill you. Didn’t always do a lot, but you did your best.”

He exhaled shakily. Why was this so...?

“Thanks for... for working hard,” he said. “Training takes a lot of time and effort, but you do it damn near every day. And, um, thanks for putting so much effort into therapy. I know it’s hard, and introspection is kind of painful when your mind works like mine does, but you know it’ll help you feel better in the end, so you do it anyway. Thanks.” He wrapped and unwrapped the tangle around his fingers. “I think that’s the one I’m proudest of. I’ve never put this much effort into my wellbeing before. And I mean, at first it was because everyone wanted me to, but this time... this time ‘round, it was just so I could feel light again. So I could get through the day without wishing I was dead.”

He dropped the tangle and grabbed a bouncy ball, tossing it from hand to hand. He watched the screen for a moment. He looked tired and pale, but honestly, not as bad as he had a few weeks ago.

“That’s the least I would do for a friend, you know?” Percy said quietly. “If I knew a friend wanted to hurt themselves, and I could fix it by spilling my guts day after day for three months, I’d do it, no questions asked. Doing it for myself, that’s... that’s new.” He laughed, soft and ragged. “Think it might be the nicest thing I’ve ever done for myself.”

He looked at the screen again, his wan face and small, pleased smile, and nodded to himself.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I think that’s good.”

He hit the stop button and saved the file to his new flash drive. Then he hesitated, looking at the screen for another few minutes, and then opened up the browser and typed in a url. Another minute, and he was in his email account.

At first glance, it made him wince. There were almost thirty emails, all from Percy’s mortal friends, ranging from worried to angry to hurt. He started clicking through, opening them one by one. It took a while to work through them all, but he thought it was worth it.

Percy, this really isn’t like you. Is everything alright? Did someone say something wrong? Rose.

Dude, this isn’t cool. You’re scaring everyone. What’s happening? Jet.

Are you okay? I’m starting to worry that you hurt yourself. Kylie.

Amna says that you aren’t answering anyone else either. Percy... did something happen? Are you hurt? Alfie.

The last one was from almost two months ago, but Percy couldn’t blame them. He’d been gone a long, long time, thanks to a certain goddess of marriage. He scowled for a second, then hit ‘new email’ and addressed it to each of them.

With liberal use of spellcheck, Percy wrote:

Hey guys. I’m really sorry for going silent and worrying everyone. Something happened and I ended up in a coma for about six months, and the next few after that were so busy that I barely had time to sleep, let alone get on a computer. I’m back at St. Joan’s now, but I’m gonna try and check my email once a week or so, because I’d really like to keep talking.

I hope you still want to be friends. You all mean a lot to me, and I promise I wouldn’t have stopped answering if all that stuff hadn’t happened.

- Percy

Chapter Text

“Oh my gods, what are you doing here?”

Startled, Percy shrank back into the corner and scowled viciously at Nico, who’d gone so pale he was turning gray but looked just as furious and embarrassed as Percy did.

Of course. Of course Nico had gotten sent to St. Joan’s.

“Same as you, di Angelo,” he muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest like they could shield him. “Emergency therapy.”

“You?” Nico demanded, incredulous. Percy hid his face and scowled harder.

“I see that you two know each other,” Cassia cut in deftly, concern wrinkling her forehead. “I know that that can be difficult and stressful, but I need to ask you to be polite and considerate of each other while you’re here. This is a space for everyone to learn to manage their emotions and trauma, and both of you were referred here for good reason. Nico, would you like to sit down and introduce yourself?”

Nico gave Percy another sullen scowl, then sat down with a thump, back to a wall.

“Nico di Angelo,” he said shortly. “My friend made me agree to this.” To Percy, “Shut up. You know how stubborn Will is.”

Percy smiled. “It’s just good to hear you call someone a friend.”

Nico flushed.

“Hey, Nico,” Amethyst broke in, lounging back against the wall. “I’m Amethyst. It looks like we have the same sense of style.”

Nico raised an eyebrow, then cast a glance over her – spiked collar, black tee, chain bracelet – and gave her a nod.

Percy half-listened as the others went around introducing themselves, and in the meantime studied Nico with concern. Reyna had told him a bit about the journey to get the Athena Parthenos to camp, and Nico’s behavior had been bothering him. If he hadn’t been 200% certain Nico would tell him to butt out, he might have mentioned it to Nico himself. Between Tartarus, Bianca, and his struggles with his sexuality, he basically had ‘needs help’ scribbled across his forehead.

Eventually, it circled around back to him, and Percy made a decision, forcing himself to relax.

“Hey, Nico,” he said, as if their earlier exchange hadn’t happened. “I’m here ‘cause I’m like, severely suicidal, but for obvious reasons I prefer that most people don’t know that. You’re here, though, so no point hiding it now.” To Cassia, he added, “Me and Nico get along fine, we just weren’t expecting to see each other. This isn’t the kind of place you want to run into people you know.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Cassia said, giving him a small smile. “We’ve had patients clash with each other before, but it’s always better when everyone is comfortable.”

Nico scowled at Percy, but didn’t argue. He looked at Cassia instead. “What do you even do in group therapy? Cry about feelings?”

“Most teenagers prefer to do their crying in individual therapy,” Cassia informed him lightly. “Group therapy is a space where you can safely share your past experiences and insecurities and receive support and validation from your peers.”

“In English?” Nico asked, wrinkling his nose.

“You talk about fucked up things that happened to you and everyone else says ‘that’s fucked up,’” Percy explained. “It helps you feel like you’re not overreacting.”

Nico scowled. “What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

“The fun thing about group therapy is that no one wants to talk about it,” Lucy said ruefully. “But that actually makes it a lot easier. And it’s really nice to have other people take your side, even with stuff that happened years ago.”

Nico picked at his jeans, then huffed. “Whatever. So that’s what we’re doing today?”

“That can wait for tomorrow,” Cassia said. “We’ll do an icebreaker so you can get used to everyone, and then you can all play board games for a while. How does that sound?”

“Whatever,” Nico muttered.

“Does everyone here know the rules to ‘never have I ever?’” Cassia asked the group. In answer, a chorus of cheers broke out, and even Percy grinned. To his surprise, Nico was nodding too.

Nico saw his look. “Played it a couple times in Maine,” he explained curtly. Then the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Always won.”

“Nico, can you start?” Cassia asked. Nico scowled, but it softened surprisingly quickly as everyone held out both hands.

“Uh... never have I ever gone to high school,” Nico said.

“Argh,” Mike said, and everyone except Nico and Violetta dropped a finger. Nico smirked, and Violetta winked at him. “Violetta, you too?”

“Eighth grade, babyyy,” Violetta cooed, eyes glittering. “You, Nico?”

“Homeschool,” Nico answered, and then nodded to Sofia, sitting on his left.

“Hm... never have I ever dyed a friend’s hair.” She snickered as Amethyst gave her a put out look.

“I’m being targeted,” she complained, dropping a finger. Violetta followed, but they both looked surprised when Lucy did too. Amethyst raised an eyebrow at Lucy, and Lucy gave her a bashful smile.

“Hope really likes putting streaks in her hair,” she explained. Amethyst grinned at her, flashing a peace sign before she looked away.

“Never have I ever... been to a concert,” Amethyst decided, and then added, “And I’m annoyed about it.”

Percy hummed in surprise when Nico dropped a finger, looking resigned. “Really, Nico? When?”

“Whenever the hell I want to, Jackson,” he deadpanned. “It’s not like I have to get my dad’s permission.” Or pay entrance fees, Percy realized.

Percy knew better than to give Nico a sympathetic look, so he shrugged in concession and glanced at Mike, who was next. Mike looked fascinated, and he definitely wanted to ask about Nico, so Percy caught his eye and mouthed, later. Mike settled.

“Never have I ever been to a pro football game,” he said. A few of them shot him skeptical looks, and he spread his hands with a shit-eating grin. “Baseball family.”

“Chea-ter,” Sofia hummed, but she didn’t look too upset as she dropped a finger. Ruya, Lucy, Percy, and Amethyst did too. Nico raised an eyebrow at Percy, and Percy shrugged, flashing him a carefree grin.

“Paul likes football,” he explained, “and Mom indulges him sometimes.” He didn’t mention that in-person football games were a lot less triggering than ESPN.

Ruya cleared her throat, and smiled nervously when everyone looked at her. “Um, never have I ever watched the Oscars.”

“The hell are the Oscars?” Nico asked.

It was probably Percy’s favorite icebreaker activity so far, which he made a mental note to tell Cassia. Two Truths and a Lie was close, but this was a lot lighter, and by the end of it Nico looked more relaxed here than he ever had at camp. Not completely content, maybe, but not so tense either.

Nico dragged Percy into the woods after dinner, and they both ended up seated under a tree, picking at the forest debris on the ground.

“You weren’t bullshitting, were you?” Nico asked Percy, frowning like Percy had annoyed him again. “Earlier.”

Percy gave him a rueful smile. “I wish. No, I... no. I don’t like talking about it, but since you’re here anyway there wasn’t much point hiding it. It’d come up sooner or later. Can’t participate in group without mentioning the actual reason why I’m here.”

“Why?”

Percy exhaled. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Nico snapped, glaring at him accusingly. “You’re- you. Everyone likes you, you’re good at literally everything, you have three perfect parents, you’ve even got a girlfriend and I don’t understand how the hell any of that translates to wanting to die.”

He’s just a kid, Percy reminded himself, clenching and relaxing his fists on his lap. And he’s bad with feelings. He doesn’t really get it yet.

“Because listing off every good thing in my life is a therapy technique, not real life,” Percy said tersely. “And there’s a whole fucking lot you don’t know about me.”

Nico backed off almost instantly, though he was still studying Percy like a puzzle that had turned out to be upside-down. When it became obvious he wasn’t letting it go, Percy sighed.

“My brain doesn’t work right, okay?” he said, keeping his voice low. “I can’t drop a plate without telling myself I deserve to die. Every time I mess up, I tell myself how stupid I am for doing it. Hating yourself that much all the time wears you down.” He shrugged, uncomfortable. “You can talk to Thalia if you don’t believe me. This time last year, I told her I was thinking about killing myself, and I honestly, seriously thought she’d just let me.”

Nico’s mouth opened, then closed, and he blurted out again, “You?”

“I know it doesn’t make sense now,” Percy muttered, embarrassment making the words come out aggravated. “I told you, my brain doesn’t work right.” He studied Nico for a moment, concern creeping back in, and added, “I bet that’s what happened to you too. You told someone that you wanted to kill yourself, or that you wished you were dead, and you only said it because you thought they wouldn’t care.”

Nico bristled. “So what? What about it?”

“Your brain’s lying to you,” Percy said plainly, looking Nico in the eye. “Whatever reasons it’s giving you to want to die, it’s lying. I can think of a dozen people off the top of my head that would miss you. I owe you my life at least that many times over. You could live in New Rome without ever even trying to make a mortal identity. It’s... it’s worth it, Nico.”

Nico shot him a hard look, though his eyes were starting to shine suspiciously bright. “Why should I believe you?”

“You get sent here, didn’t you?” Percy countered.

Both of them were silent for a moment, staring at each other.

“You really thought no one would care?” Nico asked at last. Percy shrugged.

“I figured they’d all be happier in the long run,” he said. “Can’t be difficult if I’m dead.”

“...Does the therapy stuff actually help?”

“This is my second stay here,” Percy told him. “After the first time, I felt better about things I didn’t know I could feel better about.”

Nico stared at nothing for a while.

“Alright,” he said eventually. “Fine. I’ll try it out.”

“Did I ever tell you that Thalia is afraid of heights?” Percy asked Raine.

“I don’t believe you’ve mentioned it,” Raine said. “Thalia is a daughter of Zeus, isn’t she?”

Percy nodded. “Jason, her brother, can fly,” he said, fidgeting with a yo-yo. “Harnessing the winds, I guess. But Thalia can’t, and I think it’s because she’s scared of heights.” Raine hummed in acknowledgement. “Lately, I’ve been thinking... if I was scared of water, would I stop being able to breathe in it?”

Raine paused, examining Percy thoughtfully. “Are you afraid of the water?”

Percy sank down in embarrassment, even though that was where he’d been going anyway. “Kind of,” he muttered. “Almost.” He hesitated, tugging at the yo-yo’s string, and then continued, “When I was on a quest up in Alaska, I fell into a bog. Hazel called it muskeg. And it was this, this really thin mud – mostly water and dead plants, really.” He wrapped the string around his fingers, making them puff up pink. “It was mud, so I couldn’t breathe in it, but it felt like water. I was drowning.” He tugged without looking up. “It shouldn’t be affecting me like this. I was down there for like, five minutes, so it was barely a footnote to the quest. But...”

“It scared you,” Raine said. Percy sank down lower, scowling at his knees. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“That was literally it,” Percy said irritably, glaring at nothing. “I stepped off the path and fell into the muskeg, and for five minutes I flailed around and choked on muddy water and old roots. Hazel had to get Frank to lower her down to where I could reach her, and by pure dumb luck, I grabbed her ankle and Frank pulled us up.” He let go of the yo-yo string and pulled his knees up to hug them, sparing a moment to be irritated at how often he’d been cowering like this. “It wasn’t a big deal. I coughed up dirt for a bit, and then we went to free Thanatos. That was it.”

“It sounds like it was very frightening,” Raine commented quietly. “Five minutes is a very long time to struggle to breathe.” Percy’s grip on his knees tightened, and his eyes prickled. “Can you tell me why your reaction bothers you so much?”

“It made me scared of normal water,” Percy muttered, “which is stupid. I literally can’t drown. It doesn’t happen. It doesn’t happen. Fuck’s sake, water is where I’m strongest, if I’m too scared to go into the water then I’m useless.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Percy snapped.

Raine held up two fingers, then one, and prompted, “Are you too scared to go in the water?”

Percy scowled harder, but grudgingly conceded, “No. I still have to help my friends, you know? And they need me to go into the water. But I don’t always want to.”

“It sounds like the only one being adversely affected is you,” Raine said gently.

Percy grunted. “I nearly let Frank drown once. A giant tank of water got dumped on us, and I was so scared I would drown that I forgot he was there.” He pressed his forehead against his knees. “I’m so stupid. I can’t drown. I can’t fucking drown.”

“What happened?”

“He shapeshifted into a fish,” Percy muttered, “so he was fine, no thanks to me.” He clenched his fists. “I’ve been breathing water since I was twelve. Some stupid muskeg shouldn’t have messed with me so much. It’s not even a myth thing! It’s just fucking muddy water!”

“Percy,” Raine said sternly. Percy shut up. Raine took a deep, careful breath. “Can you tell me what your compassionate voice says about this?”

Percy flinched. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t even trying to talk nice about myself. May as well have slid all the way back.”

“Percy,” Raine repeated. Percy almost apologized again, then realized what was happening. His throat closed up, and without meaning to, he let out a frustrated, strangled sob.

“What’s wrong with me?” he demanded, cracked and desperate. “I, I thought I fixed all this. I wasn’t ranting about myself anymore. Why did it come back?”

“Intense trauma can do that,” Raine said, gentle again, “especially with people that are prone to blaming themselves. That’s why your self-esteem nosedived so badly – you’ve been subconsciously searching for reasons to believe that everything that’s happened is your own fault.”

“I don’t remember how to control it,” Percy forced out.

“You need to try to remember how to forgive yourself,” Raine said. “Not just for your mistakes, but also for your reactions. Forgive yourself for your fear and your anger. Forgive yourself for your regression. It’s not your fault that you’ve lost progress, and you can still get it back.” She paused, and when Percy didn’t reply, asked, “Can we take a few steps back, and try to clean some of the venom from the last few minutes?”

“...Okay.”

“You said that you’re useless if you can’t go into water,” Raine said. “Do you think that’s true?”

Percy bit his tongue against the reflexive answer, but a few minutes’ thought didn’t help. “I don’t know what the right answer is,” he mumbled.

Raine exhaled, tapped her knee, and eyed him thoughtfully. Finally, she said, “What skills do you have that have nothing to do with the water?”

“Nothing that was useful here,” Percy said with certainty.

“Nothing?”

Percy pressed his hands over his eyes, feeling them prickle with tears again. “Nothing! I don’t know what you want from me! I wasn’t good for anything during this quest!”

“You’re the best swordsman in three hundred years,” Raine said, with quiet conviction. “Are you telling me that didn’t help?”

Percy wanted to snap that no, it didn’t, but there was a gnawing frustration that told him he was being stupid again, that he was fighting his mental illness and losing and that was why he couldn’t think of anything. He sniffled.

“Can I take a rain check?” he asked at last, almost meekly. “I, I’m starting to think I’m really not up for this today.”

Raine watched him for a moment, eyes solemn.

“Of course,” she said at last, voice soft. “You can take a break whenever you need to.”

“Have you thought of any skills you have that helped you out of the water?” Raine asked him. Percy hugged Fang tightly and avoided her eyes.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I, um, I was able to think on my feet to trick Chrysaor and his men into running away, and my sword work helped me buy time down in Tartarus. I was able to cheer Annabeth up sometimes down there too.”

He knew instinctively that it wasn’t enough, and he was probably supposed to come up with this really good list of amazing things he’d done- but he couldn’t. Every time he’d done something sort of okay on this quest, it had gotten beaten down with massive fuckups.

“Those are very good skills,” Raine said kindly. “You said that no one but yourself and Annabeth could have escaped Tartarus, didn’t you?”

Percy dropped his gaze to the ground, still hugging his toy against his chest, and like a coward, he didn’t tell her that it had had nothing to do with his skills. He tucked the snout under his chin.

“You mentioned an incident where you and Frank were unexpectedly submerged,” Raine said, when he didn’t reply. “Can you tell me why you were afraid you would drown, even with your skillset?”

His eyes prickled, and he squeezed.

“Wasn’t thinking clearly,” he mumbled. “I’d kind of scared myself into a corner at that point, thinking my powers would crap out ‘cause I was scared. It was stupid.”

“Percy,” Raine said patiently. Percy made a sullen grunt.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” he repeated. “Falling into the muskeg had traumatized me enough that my power didn’t comfort me anymore, and... that trauma kind of blocked out everything else for a minute.”

“Can you remind me about trauma symptoms?” Raine prompted, soft and even.

“Showing trauma symptoms doesn’t mean I’m being stupid,” Percy echoed on instinct, drawing the words from his previous stay. “It means that I’m trying to protect myself, and my body doesn’t know the threat has passed.”

“Very, very good, Percy,” Raine encouraged. “Can you tell me what your compassionate voice says about it?”

Percy took a deep breath. “It says... the muskeg thing was less than a week before Atlanta, so it makes sense that I was still scared. And since Frank was fine, there wasn’t really any harm done.”

“Very good,” Raine repeated softly. “Percy, can you tell me why you get so frustrated with yourself when you’re afraid?”

Percy swallowed. “I don’t want to be a coward,” he mumbled. “I’m not a coward. I’m, I’m not.”

“...Who said that you were a coward?”

Squeeze. Percy tucked his nose against the shark fin.

“Why do you think you’re a coward?” Raine rephrased after a minute. When he glanced up, she was studying him with concern.

Percy hesitated, trying to catch himself before he spat vitriol this time.

“I feel like I spook too easily,” he said at last. “It’s... I know I can be brave, okay? I’ve, I’ve done brave things. But sometimes I flinch, like- like losing a game of chicken. I run away, or I panic too much to help.”

“When have you done that?”

Percy picked at Fang’s tail. “It happened a lot in Tartarus,” he said quietly. “When we were talking to Akhlys, I was too freaked out to notice what Annabeth was doing at first. And with Nyx and her brood, I was too scared to think.” He pinched the soft cotton cloth, then wrapped a fin around his finger. “At one point, I was so terrified I dropped my sword.”

Raine was quiet for a minute.

“Is Thalia a coward, Percy?” she asked after a while. Percy bristled, scowling at her, and it took a couple of seconds for her point to click. He slumped back down, sullen.

“That’s different,” he mumbled.

“Is Tyson?” Raine pressed. “Grover? Your mother?”

“It’s...” Percy clenched his jaw. “Why do I keep saying that? It’s not. I know it’s not.”

“You hold yourself to different standards,” Raine reminded him softly. “It will take time to learn to let go of those. What does your compassionate voice say about your fear?”

Percy slouched. “I can’t think of anything.” His grip tightened, and his vision glimmered. “I’m getting worse again. Why am I getting worse?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last week I was starting to remember how to be optimistic, and kind to myself and stuff,” he told Raine without looking up. “Cassia made me write a whole thank-you letter to myself, and I did okay. Now it’s like I’m groping around in the dark again, and all I see is the bad stuff.”

“You’re having a bad few days,” Raine said. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ll get better again.”

Will I? Percy wanted to ask. He bit it down. “I don’t want to be like this. Feels like I’m wading through sludge.”

“Those are the days you need to be gentlest with yourself,” Raine said. “It’s not that you’re not trying, or that you’re not strong enough. You’re struggling because you’re in pain.” Her voice softened. “Try not to judge yourself on your progress too much. The important thing is that you are moving forward.”

Percy took a deep breath and nodded stiffly.

“Fear isn’t a sign of weakness,” Raine added, looking down to write something. “It’s an instinctive response to danger. You’re frightened often because you’re often in danger.” She looked up again, meeting his eyes evenly. “And you were more afraid than you’ve ever been in Tartarus because you were in more danger than you’ve ever been. Flinching from that doesn’t make you a coward. It makes you human.”

“Annabeth,” he said impulsively, without meeting Raine’s eyes. “Not recently. Last year. Annabeth called me a coward. Which- she was just angry, I guess, and didn’t mean to say that. But she must have been thinking it.”

Take the coward’s way out and prove it, his shoulder devil said gleefully.

That’s a really bad reason to hurt yourself, he told himself. Which wasn’t a great comeback, but he was too distracted to come up with a better one.

Pause. “You could ask her what she meant by that,” Raine said after a minute. “I can’t tell you what Annabeth was thinking; only she can. But do you think Annabeth would consider you a coward for being frightened in Tartarus?”

“...No,” Percy admitted softly. “But I don’t want to be a jerk, bringing up something she said over a year ago. It’s in the past, you know? No reason to talk about it.”

“It’s bothering you,” Raine said. “That’s reason enough.”

Percy tucked the stuffed shark closer. “Maybe,” he said, but he knew he wasn’t going to bring it up. Not anytime soon, anyway. “Can that be it for today? I know it’s early, but...”

“But you’re not feeling up to it,” Raine finished for him. “Alright. Take some time.”

Chapter Text

The third time Percy asked for a rain check, Raine hesitated. Percy flinched.

“Sorry,” he said, hugging Fang tightly. “Never mind, I’ll deal. I, um, I’ll just, pick something out of the box, yeah?”

“Stop,” Raine said, before Percy could make more than half a motion to stand up. She exhaled. “Your distress tolerance is incredibly high, Percy. If you say you need a break, I will believe you.” She tapped the notebook, sighed, and conceded, “At the same time, we have a limited amount of time here, and it’s concerning that you’re so burnt out already.”

“I’ll deal,” Percy insisted, panic starting to tighten in his chest. “It’s just talking, I’m fine, I can do it.”

“I’m not suggesting that you leave the facility,” Raine said, cutting through his anxiety. “I mean that we may need to use a different approach. Your usual self-soothing strategies don’t seem to be cutting it for you.”

“I can do it without them,” Percy mumbled.

“You don’t need to,” Raine said gently. “This isn’t something you can overcome by forcing yourself through it. If the therapy process is too stressful, you won’t take much benefit from it.”

Percy pulled his knees up and curled around his stuffed shark. “What do we do then?”

“Alternative therapy methods,” Raine said. To Percy’s surprise, she turned her computer screen toward her and typed something in, then started scrolling. “Play therapy might work for you – it creates a sense of security by allowing you to displace your feelings onto something else. I’m not sure we could cover everything with that, but with some guidance, it could be a useful strategy. Eddie has some equipment we could borrow. Art therapy has been working well for you so far, we could go further into that, and I think music therapy would help for similar reasons.”

Percy bit down the urge to apologize for being a pain. “So... we don’t have to talk about stuff today?” he ventured tentatively. Raine glanced at him, softening.

“This is progress too,” she said. “If we can find an approach that works better for you than our current one, that’s an excellent use of our time.” Percy relaxed, and Raine returned her attention to the screen, frowning. “You’re fond of dogs, aren’t you, Percy? I believe there are a few therapy dog handlers in the area.”

“Therapy dog?” Percy asked, perking up despite himself. Raine smiled.

“Yes,” she said. “Therapy dogs don’t require the sort of specialized training that service animals do, but they’re calm and gentle, and generally have a friendly disposition. Animal-assisted therapy is essentially the same as regular therapy, but being able to hold and pet a dog during the session will make it easier on you.”

Percy fidgeted with Fang’s tail. “I do like dogs,” he said after a moment. “Um, would that be okay? Can we do that?”

“Absolutely,” Raine said. “Probably not every day, but perhaps once or twice a week.”

“Twice a week?” Percy said hopefully.

“I’ll speak to Letitia about it,” Raine promised. She glanced at her computer. “What did you think of yoga and tai chi?”

“I really like tai chi,” Percy said, “but I’m still working on thinking of it as therapy instead of as training.” He played with Fang’s fin. “I hated yoga though. Every yoga stance is just begging to be bowled over.” Raine glanced at him curiously. “What?”

“Do you have a weapon on you right now?” Raine asked. Percy frowned at her.

“Course I do,” he said. He brought Riptide out of his pocket and twirled it, then thumbed the cap off. Raine jumped as the blade expanded. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Raine considered him for a moment, then shook her head, some wonder in her eyes as she looked at the sword. “Don’t mind me,” she said. “For most people, being on such constant guard would constitute a worrying degree of hypervigilance, but your circumstances make it necessary.”

Percy hummed in understanding, and leaned back to cap his pen again. “Like, if I wasn’t going to get attacked, but was still acting like I was?” Raine nodded. “That makes sense, I guess. What were you saying about tai chi?”

“If working with your body is helpful for you, somatic experiencing could make a good supplemental therapy,” Raine explained. “It’s a deeper, more involved variation on some of the relaxation exercises you’ve learned already. Essentially, you focus on where stress and trauma have created tension in your body, and you work to release it.”

Percy played with Fang’s fin again, considering that. “Annabeth’s been having neck pain and headaches,” he said after a moment.

“That can be related to physical tension from trauma, yes.”

Percy watched his hands for a moment, then nodded decisively. “Alright. That sounds good.” He hesitated, then asked, “Can you explain the play therapy thing?”

Raine smiled at him. “Essentially, you play out what happened with figures and toys, rather than telling me directly,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be as accurate to what happened, since the main objective is to allow you to express yourself, and it gives you a greater sense of control than a regular narrative.”

Percy froze for a second as something occurred to him, and then glanced up.

“Would that make it easier to talk about Tartarus?” he asked quietly.

“Almost certainly,” Raine said. “There may be parts we have to go over again with more conventional therapy, but having partially processed it ought to make those easier as well.”

Finally, Percy smiled a little. “Alright,” he said to Fang. “Sounds good.”

“Annabeth!”

Percy sat up instantly, delighted, but his smile faded as he took in her drawn face. She gave him a weary smile back. He thought distractedly that the shadows under her eyes were worse than before.

“Hey, Percy,” Annabeth said. She even sounded exhausted. “Good day, then?”

“Yeah, Raine and I made some changes to how we were doing things.” Percy crossed his legs, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just...” Annabeth trailed off, reached up, and rubbed her face. She looked frustrated, like she was redesigning a blueprint for the fourth time. “You got really lucky with Raine, you know.”

Percy’s face fell. “Second therapist isn’t working out, huh?”

Annabeth shook her head and pushed her hair out of her face.

“She’s okay,” she sighed. “I mean, she doesn’t openly dislike me like the last one did. But she keeps telling us we have to both try, because I guess she doesn’t think either of us are, since we won’t give her specifics or anything.” She put her head in her hands. “My head hurts.”

She sounded so soft and plaintive that Percy wished he could be on the other side of the country in an instant.

“Your dad knows you’re trying,” Percy reminded her. “That’s the most important thing, right? That’s what’s gonna matter in the long run.”

“Fuck the long run,” Annabeth snapped without looking up, a hint of a sob in her voice. “I’m trying now.” She took a deep breath when Percy didn’t respond. “Sorry, I...” She looked up, blinking hard. “Min took me aside earlier, and- asked me to try harder. She said Dad was under a lot of stress, and I needed to put in effort.” Her breath hitched violently, tears starting to trickle down her cheeks. “She said that Dad was under a lot of stress.”

“She had no right,” Percy snapped, which made Annabeth’s shoulders slump in what looked like relief. He softened his voice. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, okay? She doesn’t know how amazing you are. You are trying, no matter what she says, and it’s not your job to make everything work.”

“Yeah.” Annabeth was quiet for a moment, scrubbing away tears with the heel of her palm. “Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“While you’re at St. Joan’s, can you... maybe ask around, see if you can find a clearsighted therapist you think I’d get along with? I- I don’t really want to go through this whole process again just to get through the Tartarus stuff.”

Percy reached out as if to comfort her, only pulling away when his fingertips passed into the Iris message.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’ll look around. Promise.”

“And... can you maybe pass along a couple more of the coping strategies you’ve been learning?”

Percy wanted to hug her. “It’s getting to you, isn’t it?”

Annabeth swallowed hard. “It’s harder without you here,” she admitted quietly. “I can’t sleep, I keep drawing up defense plans for the house like it’ll calm me down, I... I can’t even concentrate enough to read an architecture book or, or work on a blueprint. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“You know you can call it quits and come out here anytime,” Percy said, his heart aching for her. “Letitia can make you a spot in two days flat.”

“I know,” Annabeth sighed. “But I’m trying. I don’t want to just give up on this. I can get through it long enough to fix things with my dad. Really.”

Percy exhaled, worry warring with the sort of loving exasperation that was usually Annabeth’s thing.

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “You have a lot of drawing stuff at home, right? There’s a lot of art things that are pretty good for calming down.”

“Did you ask your therapist to check on me?” Nico demanded of Percy.

“...Uh, no?” Percy was bemused for a minute before it clicked. “Oh, your therapist is Eddie, right?” Nico nodded. “Raine was just borrowing some stuff from him. I’ve been burning out a little on regular talk therapy, so we’re experimenting a bit. She said Eddie has stuff for play therapy.”

To Percy’s surprise, Nico just nodded grudgingly again. “Eddie’s trying to get me to do that stuff too,” he grumbled. “I’m not a kid.” He eyed Percy. “Not surprised you’re doing it though.”

Percy snorted in amusement, smiling a little. “What if I try it out first and tell you how it goes?” he suggested. “You can decide what you think of it when you know a little more.”

Some of the tension left Nico’s shoulders. “Sure, whatever. What do you and your therapist even talk about?”

“Self-compassion, mostly,” Percy said, playing with Riptide. He stretched out to dip his feet in the creek, though Nico was staying well away from it, so Percy had to look over his shoulder to see him. “Not being so hard on myself when I do something wrong, expecting less of myself when I’m upset. What about you?”

Nico bristled, but then seemed to remember he’d just asked Percy exactly that and subsided, grumbling. “Something something, getting in touch with my emotions,” he said dismissively. “How does that make you feeeeel?”

“Yeah, I’ve started hearing that one in my sleep,” Percy said with amusement.

“Mostly talking about how I’ve been living lately,” Nico added, looking down at the creek. “How much time I spend at the camps, how much in the Underworld. Who I talk to.” He scowled. “I don’t really get it.”

Percy nodded. “Raine and I did that the first day or two, too,” he said. “He’s kind of... getting a feel for your baseline.” He hesitated, and then ventured, “Did you tell him about Bianca?”

Nico gave Percy a hard, sharp look. “No. It’s none of his damn business.”

“It kind of is,” Percy said, as gently as he could. He tried not to tense up too much as he stumbled through the sensitive subject. “He’s trying to, like... understand where you’re coming from, I guess. What your life’s been like so far.” He hesitated, played with Riptide for another few seconds, and then added, “One of the first things I told Raine was that my ex-stepfather hit me, even though that’s not something I like to talk about.”

The statement hung in the air for a minute, conspicuous and crushing. Percy didn’t look up, but it didn’t stop him from feeling Nico’s stare.

“...Your mom let that happen?” Nico asked quietly. It hit Percy like a punch in the gut, because it wasn’t anywhere near the reaction he was expecting. Sometimes he forgot that Nico was too old for his age, same as the rest of them.

“It kept me safe from monsters,” Percy explained without looking up.

Of course, Nico, who was on the run from monsters every minute he wasn’t in the Underworld, understood immediately. A shadow passed over his eyes.

“If I hadn’t told Raine that right off, a lot of our early sessions would’ve been way different,” Percy added, wanting to steer the subject back around, “and it would’ve been pretty hard for us to get anywhere until she figured it out.” Nico stared at him warily. “Trauma changes a lot about how you think. Telling her what happened pointed her in the right direction. You know?”

Nico stared for another minute, and then sighed and slumped back unhappily.

“Yeah,” he conceded grudgingly. “So... you think I should tell Eddie about Bianca ‘cause he’ll have to figure it out later anyway?”

Percy nodded. “He probably won’t make you talk about it right away,” he told Nico, “but it’ll help for him to know when you’re trying to talk about other things. Like, can you imagine trying to explain the stuff in the labyrinth without mentioning her?”

Nico snorted, and for a moment Percy thought he almost smiled, which would have been a first when it came to talking about Bianca. “I can sit in the corner and ignore him if he gets pushy, I guess.”

Percy smiled encouragingly. “Yeah. You could probably even go get someone if he makes you uncomfortable. Letitia, or one of the other therapists.”

Nico raised an eyebrow. “You?”

“Sure,” Percy said. “If you need to make him back off? Yeah, I’ll be there.” He doubted it would be necessary, but if it was, like hell he was discouraging Nico from coming to get him.

When he glanced back at Nico, Nico had softened, looking calmer and more settled. Then, to Percy’s surprise, he slid down to sit next to him. When he glanced over, Nico was looking at him, frowning. “I’ve never seen you like this before,” he said eventually.

Percy flashed him a rueful smile. “Yeah, well, I’m not usually like this. But I’m up to my ears in introspection right now, so I’m kinda stuck like that.”

“Thinking about you being introspective is weird,” Nico informed him. Percy snorted, then laughed.

“Right?” he said. “I wouldn’t have figured it would work. It does, though.”

“Does talking about your feelings actually work?”

“Has so far,” Percy said. “Don’t get me wrong, it can be kind of painful, but it’s good too. You ever tell someone a secret and feel lighter afterward?” Nico nodded grudgingly. “It’s like that. It stops bouncing around in your head once you talk about it.”

“I hate talking about feelings,” Nico said.

“Yeah,” Percy said sympathetically. “It’s not easy.” He shrugged. “Get a good thing going with your therapist, see how you feel after that. I think you’ll feel better once you start to trust him.”

Nico scoffed. “Yeah? How long did that take you, ten minutes?”

Percy smiled, not particularly offended. “I think Raine and I had been talking two hours every day for almost three weeks before we started getting into real personal stuff,” he said. “But it was longer before I was talking about sensitive stuff – Luke and my childhood and everything.”

Nico stared at the water for a bit.

“You know me,” he said at last. “You really think I’ll like this guy enough to talk about Bianca?”

“If you and Eddie hit it off alright?” Percy said. “Yeah. I think you will.”

Percy spent the first few minutes of the session digging through the box Raine had borrowed from Eddie. He found a handful of green army men, some chubby-looking figures of a variety of people and characters, some animals, and a couple of superhero action figures. There was also some scratch paper and some colored pencils and markers. Finally, he looked up.

“I, uh.” He cleared his throat, trying to banish the heat in his face. “Still don’t get exactly what I’m supposed to do.”

Raine slid out from behind her desk to sit down a few feet away. “Start by playing out what happened,” she told him. “It doesn’t have to be exact – this method of therapy places a lot more emphasis on how the memory feels to you. If you think of something that you might enjoy doing, try it. Play is a form of processing and expression.”

“Okay...” Percy said, slow and unsure. He started setting up some of the figures, forming a picture in his mind. He scribbled out a river in orange marker. He set aside a couple of little green army men and a figurine that was supposed to be Dumbledore. He found a Luna and a little Harry Potter. “How come there’s so many Harry Potter characters?”

“I asked the same thing,” Raine chuckled. “Apparently generic figurines are difficult to find.”

Percy grunted, and then sat back on his heels to contemplate the scenery. “Can I use a book or something?”

“Of course.”

He scribbled out another orange river, then grabbed three books to stack together and put the Phlegethon on top of them. “And I just... do whatever?”

“Whatever feels right to you,” Raine told him. “If necessary, we can debrief after and talk about anything that still needs to be addressed.”

Percy relaxed a little, but he was still unsure. He grabbed the Luna and the Harry and set them on the far end of the Phlegethon.

“If we go downriver, we’ll go deeper into Tartarus,” Percy said, wiggling Luna childishly. “That’s where the Doors of Death are.” He tapped Harry. “Oh, goody. I can’t wait to get there.”

Self-conscious, he glanced up at Raine, and she just smiled at him and gestured. He looked back down.

“Hide!” he said for Annabeth. For lack of a better hiding spot, he put them both face-down next to the river and grabbed the five army men, setting them up nearby. He wiggled one. “Of course I know how to get to the mortal world! I was there a few years ago, unlike you. So there!” He tapped another. “But you’re a brat!” The first. “A brat who knows how to get to the Doors of Death!” The second. “Argh!”

He smiled a little. Okay, this was starting to be fun, now that he was getting into it – it was definitely easier than the painstaking narratives he was used to. He shifted back and forth for a minute, bringing the army men down the Phlegethon with his and Annabeth’s figures following them, and finally had them hop easily down the stack of books.

Percy took the other two down more slowly, side by side, bobbing in the air like they were being lowered by the world’s slowest, shakiest rappel. After the first book, he had Annabeth flop down onto the ledge.

“I need a break,” he said for her. “I’m tired. I’m hungry. How long has it been?” He put himself down beside her. “I don’t know. I’m thirsty. I’m hot.”

A motion made Percy glance up, distracted. Raine had taken a small handful of fake food and put them within arm’s reach. He glanced between it and the figures, and then grabbed a couple, a hamburger and some pizza and sodas, and made little eating motions with each figurine, mumbling om nom nom. It didn’t change anything, obviously, but for some reason, it made him feel better.

“Okay,” he said for Annabeth, sitting her back up. “I think I can keep going.”

He bobbed them down to the bottom of the stack, then dropped them unceremoniously. He reached over to wriggle himself. “Do you feel like we’re being watched?” He sat Annabeth up. “Don’t be silly.” Back to himself. “The ground feels like skin.” He tapped Annabeth. “Don’t think about that.”

He tapped them down the river.

“Wait,” he said for himself, tilting the figure back and forth to look. “Where are the empousai?”

Percy made an aggressive sort of ‘rraahhh!’ sound, and dropped the two chubby figures to grab the five army men and set them around himself and Annabeth.

“You don’t want to do this!” he said for Annabeth, and put her and himself back to back. He tapped himself and said, “I’ll get you first!” He dropped them both and grabbed an army man. “No, you won’t,” Percy said, and then grabbed all five army men and dropped them on top of himself and Annabeth in a heap with another aggressive rraahhh!

He stopped, staring pensively at the pile for a minute.

“Percy?” Raine prompted, voice soft.

“We could have died right there,” he said quietly. Without explaining, he reached over and grabbed the Dumbledore figure, stuck a broom in its hand, and snarled aggressively, using it to knock all of the army men off himself and Annabeth. He sat himself back up and said, “What the hell?” Then he sat Annabeth up too. “What the hell?”

Percy grabbed the Dumbledore figurine and danced it around for a minute.

“I’m Bob the Titan!” he announced at last, trying to push away the burn that was starting to sting his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry over a bunch of stupid dolls. “Percy called me, so I came to help! You look hurt! Owie!” Percy squirmed around, and then moved Bob so his non-broom hand patted Annabeth on the head. “All better!” He repeated it with himself. “All better!”

It was no use. Percy’s vision glimmered and swam.

“This way, friends,” he managed, making Bob turn around and bounce a few times. “I know where you can eat and sleep and not get eaten by monsters! Come!” He hesitated, then dropped Bob and sat up. “I’m, um, I’m done now.”

“Alright,” Raine said softly. “What did you think?”

Percy rubbed his eyes, trying to banish the tears. “It was, um, good, I guess. Easier.” He swallowed. “I liked being able to be kinda blunt with more things.”

“Are you ready to move on to the next part?” Percy nodded, stiff and slight. “Okay. Sit however you’re comfortable and focus on your body. Can you tell me what you’re feeling in your body?”

“Um, we’ve never done this before,” Percy said uncomfortably.

“Somatic experiencing,” Raine said gently. “We did discuss it. Even in a less stressful form, remembering your trauma brought up tension in your body, so we’re going to work on releasing that before we talk about it.”

“Oh, okay.” Percy shifted, bringing up one knee while his other leg lay loose. He focused. “Um, what am I looking for?”

“The physical symptoms of your emotions,” Raine said. “Nausea, tightness, aches.”

“Okay,” Percy mumbled, dropping his gaze to scowl at the carpet. “Um, I am kinda nauseous, but not that bad, I think ‘cause of the meds.” He’d only thrown up twice in the last couple weeks, which was a massive relief. “My shoulders are really tight, and my chest aches like I pulled a muscle in my lungs.” He hesitated. “My back kind of hurts too.”

Raine nodded. “Can you go to Montauk?”

Grateful for the excuse, Percy closed his eyes. The memory was easier to pull up and solidify now: the crashing waves, the sand on his skin, seawater and campfire smoke and the sound and cadence of his mom’s voice, murmuring nothing in particular.

“Are you there?” Percy hummed affirmatively. “Focus on your body again. Are you still carrying tension?” Percy hesitated, then nodded, feeling stiffness in his back and a tight feeling in his chest. “Try and release it. Bring the calm from that memory into your body.”

“This is a way to trick me into meditating,” Percy mumbled, though he didn’t open his eyes, trying to do as asked. Raine laughed softly.

“They’re very similar,” she said. “But I thought you’d appreciate the body-focused nature of this exercise.”

Percy hummed and took deep breaths. He rolled his shoulders. Loosening up was harder than he’d thought it would be. His hands clenched and unclenched, but his chest wouldn’t loosen and his stomach wouldn’t relax.

“Look back on the memory,” Raine coached after a while. “Focus on your stomach. When do you think your stomach began to churn?”

Percy scowled in confusion, but ran through the memory. “I guess... when I realized we’d lost the empousai.”

“What were you feeling then?”

“...Scared.”

“Let go of that fear,” Raine told him. “You’ve felt and acknowledged it, and now you can relax. That fear has run its course. You’re safe now.”

Percy took another deep breath, and was mildly surprised when it worked this time. His stomach loosened, and most of the nausea subsided, leaving only a few unpleasant butterflies.

“Focus on your shoulders. When do you think your shoulders became tight?”

Percy looked back, frowning. “Right away, when me and Annabeth decided to go downriver to the Doors of Death.”

“What were you feeling then?”

“Bitter, I guess. Resigned, tired.”

“Let go of that resignation,” Raine said. “Your work is done. You did what you needed to do, and now you are resting. The responsibility is gone.”

Percy took a long, slow breath, and then let it out. It took a little longer this time, and a few more tries. But he thought of crashing waves. The warmth of leaning into his mother’s side. Sand between his fingers and toes, and the crackle of the fire. His shoulders relaxed.

“Okay,” he murmured.

“Focus on your back. When did it begin to hurt?”

To Percy’s surprise, this one took almost no thought at all. “When we heard the empousai.”

“What were you feeling then?”

“Angry,” Percy said. “I’d met one of them before. Hate her.”

“She’s gone now,” Raine said. “You’re safe from her. You don’t need that anger anymore. It’s run its course.”

A deep breath, and let it out. He thought of giggling with his mother, and tossing blue corn chips to seagulls. Taking Annabeth by the hand and leading her out into the cold water of the surf. A stray thought – one of his favorite songs from campfire played briefly in his head. His back loosened. Without thinking, he brought up his hand and pressed it over his chest.

“Yes,” Raine said softly. “Focus on your chest. When did it begin to ache?”

“When... when Bob showed up,” Percy managed.

“What were you feeling then?”

“Feel bad,” Percy murmured. “Bob deserved better.”

“Is it grief or guilt?”

“Both.”

“Let this run its course too,” Raine said. “Let the sadness flow through you. You don’t need to lock it away. Let it out.”

Practically on cue, Percy’s breath hitched twice, and the next thing he knew, tears were starting to trickle down his face.

Chapter Text

“Hey, Sofia. Your therapist is Mai, right?”

Sofia shot him a confused look from where she was digging up weeds. “Yeah, why?”

“Can I ask you about her?”

“...Sure?” Sofia frowned at him. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked Raine.”

“I do!” Percy assured her quickly, accidentally throwing dirt as he waved the thought away. “But my girlfriend is having a lot of trouble getting along with the therapists her dad is picking out, so she asked me to see if I thought anyone here would be a good fit. And you’re graduating this week, so...”

“Your girlfriend’s like you?” Sofia asked. Percy nodded. “Is she coming here soon?”

Percy hesitated.

“...She’s technically still at San Francisco trying to work things out there,” he said. “But I have a feeling she’ll be here sooner rather than later.”

“O... kay? Ask away.”

Percy relaxed. “Thanks.” He turned his attention back to the plants, removing one carefully from a small planter and patting it into the ground. “Is she more soft or more, like, businesslike?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Sofia said. “She’s more businesslike, I guess. She’ll reassure me if I really need it, but mostly she just lets me emotion to myself until I’m done.” She glanced at him and tacked on, “I like it better that way, she’s not being mean or anything.”

Percy nodded absently and started digging a hole for the next plant. “Is she straightforward? Like, does she start with the point or does she kind of talk you to it?”

“These are weirdly specific questions,” Sofia told him. Percy smiled in embarrassment.

“I’ve known my girlfriend since we were twelve,” he explained, “and we think pretty differently. I’ve been thinking kind of a lot about what Raine does that she would and wouldn’t like.”

Sofia nodded, and then offered, “You want to go talk to her after dinner?”

Percy scratched his hair self-consciously. “I don’t wanna make her feel like I’m giving her a job interview or something.”

“I don’t think she’ll mind,” Sofia said. “And, no offense, it’s less weird than doing it through other people.”

Percy laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

A few rows away, Eddie was kneeling beside Nico, showing him how to peel away the dead parts of a bush to make room for new growth. Percy watched them for a moment. Nico looked surprised every time he touched the plant and it didn’t wither, but Eddie seemed completely focused on the lesson.

“Is Nico avoiding us?”

The question startled Percy out of his observation, and he glanced at Sofia. Sofia shrugged, embarrassed.

“I mean, I’m sure it’s super annoying that you guys have to come here to get therapy, like, it’d be easier to do it in private. But I asked a couple people and Nico hasn’t really been talking to anyone, not even when Lucy or Mike tries.”

“Oh.” Percy relaxed. “Nico’s not really a people person, for like, a lot of reasons. I’ll see if I can get him involved in a couple things during rec time.” He reconsidered her question, and then added, “He’s lonely, really. Being a son of Hades makes it pretty hard for him to make friends, and he doesn’t know how anyway because of, uh, reasons.”

“I think he heard you.”

Percy glanced up, smiling sheepishly when he caught Nico’s glower. He shrugged, and when Nico just rolled his eyes, he returned his attention to Sofia.

“He’d probably like Violetta,” he said thoughtfully. “She’s really good about sitting quietly during art time. And maybe Ruya? If they can get to the point where they’re comfortable, they’ll probably enjoy each other’s company.”

“So, no one to actually talk to,” Sofia said. Percy winced.

“I dunno,” he said, glancing away. “I try not to pressure Nico. He’s had a rough time.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason to?” Sofia pointed out. Percy exhaled.

“Yeah, probably. I don’t really know what to do for him, though.”

“Stop talking about me.”

Sofia started as Nico sat across from them, scowling faintly. He rolled his eyes when Percy gave him an apologetic smile, so Percy figured they were still cool.

“Which ones are Violetta and Ruya?” he asked Percy. Percy pointed them out, and Nico glanced over. “Okay. Maybe later.” The concession made Percy beam. Nico scowled in embarrassment. “Therapist’s been trying to get me to talk to the other patients too. Says I need to practice connecting with my peers and whatever.”

“This is a really good place for that,” Percy said earnestly. “Everyone here kind of understands that we’re all stressed out, heavy stuff goes to the therapists, and a little support still goes a long way.”

“I didn’t get the unspoken rulebook, sorry,” Nico deadpanned.

“Don’t ask a lot of anybody else, and they won’t ask a lot of you,” Percy told him. “It’s, uh, it’s a stress management thing. We all need time to socialize and stuff, ‘cause if all we’re talking about is trauma for three months, we’ll go mad. So we just... keep it light and try to relax, I guess.”

“I’m not good at small talk,” Nico said.

“Trust me, there’s always someone willing to do it for you,” Sofia said with clear amusement. Nico raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and she elaborated, “Mike and Lucy are nervous talkers. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll talk your ear off, but there won’t be any awkward silence, at least.”

“Gods, that’s worse,” Nico muttered. “I’ll stick with the other two.” Percy didn’t believe him. He looked at Sofia. “You’re clearsighted, right? I’m Nico.”

“My name’s actually Sofia,” Sofia teased, but she made to shake his hand, and didn’t push it when he pulled away. “Can I ask you questions or would that be rude?”

Nico shrugged. “Go for it.”

“How come Percy doesn’t have to?” Nico demanded. Percy winced and looked away, crossing his arms defensively.

“Because Percy is a different person with different needs,” Cassia said gently. “His therapist spoke to me about his situation and we agreed that this exercise might not be beneficial at this stage, and that he should approach it when he’s more comfortable.”

Nico looked about a second away from stomping his foot. “I’m not comfortable with it either! Why do I gotta do it?”

“Dude, why are you fighting so hard?” Sofia demanded. “It’s compliments.”

“Sofia,” Cassia said sternly, and Sofia subsided, embarrassed.

“She has a point,” Percy said, eyes on the wall. “It’s fine, I’ll join in. I’ve been here for almost a month anyway.”

Cassia pursed her lips. “Are you sure?” Percy nodded, and she sighed, then smiled. “Alright then, everyone line up.”

Nico still didn’t look happy, but he joined the line when Percy did, and Percy turned his attention to the head of the line. Sofia rocked on her feet, impatient.

On Cassia’s signal, Sofia stepped into the corridor, smiling confidently. Lucy smiled back.

“You’re one of the most steadfast people I’ve ever met,” Lucy told her, “and I admire you a lot.”

Some color appeared on Sofia’s cheeks, but she flashed Lucy a pleased smile before she kept going.

“It’s easy to spend time with you,” Ruya told Sofia quietly.

“You’re super reliable and don’t you forget it,” Mike said. Sofia smiled at him.

“Your friends are lucky to have you,” Violetta said, reaching out to squeeze Sofia’s hand.

“You helped me feel comfortable when I got here,” Amethyst said with unusual sincerity. Sofia looked surprised, then delighted, and Amethyst flushed before she smiled back.

“You make people feel safe,” Percy said firmly.

Nico still looked uncomfortable, but he met Sofia’s eyes and said awkwardly, “Uh, you seem pretty cool.”

Sofia’s smile softened, tinted with understanding, and she gave him a nod before taking her place at the end of the line.

Nico relaxed a little as they moved down the line, complimenting Lucy and then Ruya and then Mike, but he grew shifty and uncomfortable again as they approached the end of the line. For some reason, Percy’s heart started pounding too, a rabbit-beat in his chest.

“It’s... cool that you’re so nice to everyone,” Nico said stiffly, avoiding Percy’s eyes. Percy swallowed and smiled at him, but his heartbeat moved to his throat and his ears rang.

So nice to everyone, his shoulder devil mocked. Everyone.

“I can see why kids come to you for comfort, and I bet you’re an amazing counselor,” Sofia said to him.

So nice, the devil repeated derisively.

Lucy met his eyes, and then stepped forward to hug him, quick and gentle, and Percy tried to focus on it and flashed her a shaky smile.

So nice to everyone.

Ruya just looked at him.

“Cassia,” she said. “Something’s wrong with Percy.”

Cassia appeared from the sidelines and took one look at him before understanding. “Oh, Percy,” she sighed. Percy crossed his arms and stepped back, then forward, flustered and confused. His head felt full of cotton. Cassia nudged Mike with a murmured apology and grabbed Percy’s hand, then pulled Percy out of the line. She smiled at the others. “Keep going and let Nico run through, I’ll look after Percy.”

Nico looked panicked. “What’d I do? What’s wrong with him?”

“You’re fine,” Cassia said soothingly. Percy tried to keep his breath from speeding up much. He looked at her, then back at the line. He felt dizzy. “Raine thought this might happen, it’s not your fault.” She tugged. “Come on, Percy.”

Belatedly, Percy registered that his turn was over, probably because he was freaking out.

Percy sat down hard where Cassia indicated and hugged his knees, and she let him lean into her, shaking. He told himself that his mind was playing tricks on him, and there weren’t arai waiting to crawl through the windows and drag him away.

So nice to everyone, cooed the witchy, vicious voice of the arai. You’ve certainly fooled them, haven’t you, Perseus? They don’t know who you really are. Imagine what they’d do if they did.

“You’re okay, Percy,” Cassia murmured to him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did such a good job trying for your friend, and you deserve to hear good things about yourself. Come on. Breathe, Percy.”

Percy took a stuttered, shallow breath, becoming aware of the spiral he’d fallen into, and started the process of trying to claw his way out of it.

“Tell me five things you can see,” Cassia said, calm and soft. Percy pried his eyes open and looked around.

“Carpet,” he panted. “Shelves. W-whiteboard, markers. Wall?”

“Good. Four things you can feel?”

He patted the floor. “Carpet,” he repeated, strained and breathless. He swallowed and tried to force it to even out. “J-jeans. Your hand, floor.” His breath hitched, and, softer, he added, “Cold.”

Nico said you’re nice because he thinks you’re nice, he told himself shakily. He’s known you a long time, through a lot of shit. If he thinks-

But how could he think that? After Percy broke his promise- after Bianca?

Oh, gods, Bianca. Bianca must have hated him in her final moments. Had, had Bianca-

“Three things you can hear,” Cassia said. Percy swallowed again.

“You,” he managed. “Radiator. A delivery truck or s’mthing.”

“Good. Two things you can smell?”

Percy closed his eyes again and focused. “Hot air. Some kinda perfume.” He squinted at Cassia, and Cassia smiled bashfully.

“Mine,” she admitted. “No scent in particular.”

Percy managed a smile, and then dropped his chin back to his knees, breathing heavily. The worst of the attack might be over, but he still felt like shit.

“Your safe place is a beach, isn’t it, Percy?” Cassia said, breaking into his thoughts again. She was holding one of his hands, her other arm around his shoulders. “Monty, no... Monto...”

“Montauk,” Percy said.

Montauk. Go to Montauk. Blue food. A bag of blue candy beside him, seashells by his feet, tossing corn chips to seagulls, his mother’s voice. You look just like him, you know. Sand in his mouth, saltwater, campfire smoke. Crashing waves, the highway.

The image was thin and weak, and tore like tissue paper when he tried to pull it around him. But Cassia was holding his hand, and he could hear someone saying to Nico, “You’re really insightful during conversations and I think that’s cool,” and he held onto that and tried again.

Blue food. A pile of blue candy and blue corn chips. The taste of blueberry sour strings, the smell of smoke, wading into the surf with Annabeth. Naiads waving at him from the sea floor, and his mother’s laugh, his mom’s sea-colored eyes and her smile. Sand in his shoes, the crackle of the fire, boats on the horizon and the clear, bleeding sunset. The stars above.

“That’s it,” Cassia murmured. “Hold onto that image and breathe.”

His breath evened out into something slow and careful, and after a while, his hands stopped tingling. He slumped into Cassia, exhausted.

“Is he gonna be okay?” someone asked quietly.

“He will,” Cassia promised. “You were going to exchange numbers with Lucy, right? Go ahead and do that. Percy will get up when he’s ready.”

“...Okay.”

“You can go too, Nico,” Cassia added after a minute.

“Uh.” Nico’s voice, low with discomfort, was easy to recognize. “I’d rather stick around until he gets up.”

“Alright. Just don’t rush him, okay?”

Percy stayed there for another few minutes, feeling shaky and emotionally threadbare, but eventually he had to push himself upright. “Sorry,” he mumbled, unable to look Cassia in the eye. “Guess I overestimated myself.”

“It’s alright,” Cassia soothed. “You wanted to encourage your friend, and you pushed yourself too hard. There’s nothing for you to feel bad about. Are you feeling better? Do you want me to send someone for Raine?”

Percy shook his head without looking up. “Just tired,” he muttered. “Sorry I fucked it up for everyone else.”

“Everyone is fine,” Cassia said. “Episodes happen.”

“Was supposed to be Nico’s first gauntlet,” he mumbled.

“What did you think of your first gauntlet, Nico?” Cassia prompted. Nico made a startled grunt, but when Percy glanced up, he was still seated against a wall, looking uncomfortable. He looked away as soon as he saw Percy looking.

“It was okay,” Nico muttered to a shelf. “Weird that people had that many nice things to say when I’ve only been here a couple of days. ‘M not a likable person.”

“It seems like everyone here likes you just fine,” Cassia said to him, and then returned her attention to Percy. “See? He’s alright.”

“Oh. Okay, cool.”

Nico cleared his throat, making Percy look at him again. He wouldn’t meet Percy’s eyes. “Sorry I was throwing a fit about you not having to do it. Figured you were just embarrassed.”

“’S alright,” Percy said. “You didn’t know, and I didn’t exactly put up a fight either.” He pulled away from Cassia, shuffling a couple feet away before he looked back at her. “We’ve got a while before art block, right? I kinda want to go take a nap or something.” Maybe put on a hoodie or crawl under a blanket.

“Go ahead,” Cassia encouraged him. “I’ll tell Raine what happened, okay?”

Percy nodded, and then stuck his hands in his pockets and went out the door. He wasn’t entirely surprised when Nico accompanied him. He was surprised when Nico stayed quiet for a while, looking pensive.

“Will and I had a fight,” Nico said eventually. “He said I was being too reckless with my powers. I told him it didn’t matter, because I didn’t care if I died. Said it wasn’t too different from how I was living anyway. But he got pretty upset about it.”

Percy managed a smile. “Yeah,” he said. “It can get pretty dark inside your head before you realize what’s happening.” Pause. “I’m glad Will did something about it. You deserve someone that cares about you.”

Color dusted across Nico’s cheeks, and he didn’t reply.

“Hey,” Percy said. “How often did you talk to Bob?”

Nico squinted at him. “I said you didn’t have to say thanks or anything.”

“’M curious.”

“...I dunno,” Nico said. “Not that often. Whenever I was in the Underworld, I guess. There’s not exactly a ton of good company down there.”

“Oh, okay.” Percy didn’t look at him. “I’m gonna go take a nap. Can you say goodbye to Sofia for me?”

“Sure.” He felt Nico’s gaze on his back as he turned away.

Percy didn’t look up as Lucas sat beside him. He stayed sprawled out on his belly, head resting in his arms, watching the others draw and chat.

“Cassia told me what happened earlier,” Lucas said quietly. Percy didn’t reply. “Not up to art today?”

Percy hesitated, then held out one of his hands. “Hands are still shaking,” he muttered, watching it tremble. “I tried to take a nap, but it didn’t work out.”

“You don’t have to draw anything,” Lucas said. “You could just play with the paint for a while. Or you could paint a sheet with colors for everything you’re feeling right now.”

Percy turned his head to look at him, then sighed and pushed himself upright. “Okay. What colors are what?”

Lucas chuckled. “Ordinarily I’d say pick anything you want,” he said, “but I don’t think you’re in the mood for an unguided exercise.” Percy shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”

Percy watched Lucas head across the room. Lucas didn’t give them as much to do as most of the other instructors, usually giving a short lesson for the first fifteen or twenty minutes before letting them loose. It was unusual for him to step in during art time, too; usually he let the kids approach him.

Lucas returned a few minutes later with a spiral-bound book.

“This is a popular model,” he said, opening it to show Percy. “The colors don’t mean much, but they’re something to work with.”

Percy took it and flipped through. It was a wheel, mostly pastel, with a lot of feelings words on it. Happy, love, afraid, sad. He looked up and managed a smile for Lucas. “Thanks.”

Lucas gave him an understanding smile and a nod, then walked away again.

Percy gathered the fingerpaints and a large sheet, and flopped back down to contemplate them. After a minute, he scooped some up and started painting. He didn’t go for any shape in particular; he didn’t have the energy for that. Instead, he swirled and smeared it around, making a vague fog of color.

Orange, first, with shades of red swirled in when he felt like it. Fear and agitation. A lot of blue around the edges, smeared with purple at the furthest points. Sadness and grief. He kind of tried to shade them together with a dull blue-gray, which wasn’t on the wheel but felt like the kind of ‘blah’ color he wanted right now. When there were almost no white spots left, he scooped up some warm yellow and dotted it in, for the little points of light he was trying to find. By the end of it, even though none of it really meant anything, Percy felt a little better.

He washed his hands afterward. While he was doing that, Ruya appeared beside him, and he made room without looking.

“No, um.” Ruya held something out, and Percy looked over and started. It was a bracelet, strung with beautiful wooden beads and a plastic pearl between every three. “I like your necklace.”

Percy looked up and met her eyes. She looked nervous, jittering a little, but she looked back expectantly. Percy smiled at her.

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s really pretty.”

He accepted the bracelet and slipped it on, and she broke out into one of the brightest smiles he’d ever seen, eyes sparkling. It was gone quickly, but she still looked pleased as she waved at him and turned away. He looked down at the bracelet and thumbed at it.

He liked it.

Chapter Text

“I’ll play it out,” Percy said to Raine, “but I don’t want to talk about it today, okay? I... I want to wait for a dog day.”

“Alright,” Raine said softly. “That’s scheduled for Monday. Are you ready?”

No, Percy thought, but he leaned over and started setting things up anyway. He took Luna, Harry, and Dumbledore out first, and then a couple of pterodactyls and birds of prey. He took a few trees and set them up, and tore a piece of paper in half to act as a cliff edge. He sat back to look at the setup for a minute, then decided that was good enough and scooted close again.

He hesitated.

“I didn’t want to do this one this early,” he said haltingly, without looking at Raine. “I’m only doing it now ‘cause it’s messing with me so bad.”

“That’s fine,” Raine said. “That’s a very good reason to tackle it now. Is there a reason you didn’t want to?”

“It’s going to make you think Bob is a bad person,” Percy said. “I, I don’t want that. I owe Bob my life and then some, okay?”

“Okay,” Raine said gently. “I understand.”

Percy took a deep, slow breath, then shuddered. He looked around for a moment.

“What is it?” Raine asked.

“’M being a-” Percy cut himself off and exhaled. He stood up, went to his self-soothing box, and grabbed the lotion out of it, rubbing some on his neck and wrists. “I’m still kind of freaked, even approaching it like this.”

“Take your time,” Raine murmured. “Do you want anything else?”

Breath. “...Music?” he ventured. “Would that be too weird?”

“No, that’s fine,” Raine said. “Do you have a comfort playlist on your MP3?” Percy nodded. “I can hook it up to my computer and play from there.”

Percy nodded and rummaged for a moment before passing it off to Raine. While Raine worked on that, Percy sat beside the playset, staring down at it. After a couple of minutes, Kimya Dawson’s Lullaby for the Taken started to play. Raine looked surprised, and Percy managed a smile.

“Mom likes her,” he explained. He took another deep breath and looked down. “Okay. Okay.”

He grabbed the Dumbledore figure and tilted it back and forth.

“This way,” he said for Bob, pointing toward the cliff. “Darker, then left.” Percy moved all three figures a few inches, just into the trees. He picked up Luna and tapped her against the ground. “Wait. I hear something.” He set all three figures back to back, and then grabbed every pterodactyl and eagle figurine he’d found and banged them on the floor around the three. The sound wasn’t very loud, so he said, “Bang! Bang! Bang! We are the curses! Fear us!”

He took another shaky breath, and forced himself to relax as he smelled the ocean. Kimya Dawson’s murmured lyrics played softly from the speakers.

“Rah!” He made himself slash at them without hitting, and then bumped Annabeth against him. “No! Don’t touch them!” He grabbed one of the pterodactyls and had it lung toward them. “Rah!” He hit the pterodactyl with the play sword, and then tossed it aside without looking. “Ahh!” He made his figure fall down.

His dumb battle noises were making him self-conscious. He glanced up at Raine, but she was just watching, brow furrowed in concern and notebook open. She gave him a nod when their eyes met, and he looked back down.

“You’re bleeding!” he said for Annabeth, tapping her figure against the ground. He picked his back up. “This is how I killed Geryon!” He grabbed one of the eagles and waved it around. “Muahaha! We are the curses! The dying wishes of every monster you’ve ever killed! Suffer as they suffered!” He swung it at Annabeth’s figure and had her hit it with her bare hand, since he didn’t have a tiny rock, and tossed the eagle aside as well. He flailed Annabeth’s figure. “Ah! I can’t see!”

He glanced up at Raine again. Her pale face told him that despite the silliness of the exercise, he was getting the idea across pretty well.

He picked up another pterodactyl. “Yes! Polyphemus cursed you for tricking him with invisibility! Fuck you!” He set his figure in front of Annabeth’s without comment, and then hit a few birds with Dumbledore-Bob’s broom. He tapped himself. “Oh no! Bob, did you get cursed?” He tapped Bob on the floor. “No curses for Bob!” He grabbed a pterodactyl. “Why would we curse Bob when you have already cursed him? You took his memory, Percy Jackson!”

Percy took another deep breath. It was kind of odd; he could feel himself sliding into the memory, but it was different from how it normally felt. Less threatening. Like lightning-bending, or anger management – through and out.

He turned Dumbledore-Bob toward him. “My memory... it was you?” he said for Bob. He tapped his own figure against the floor. “I’m sorry.” Back to Bob. “You did it?” Himself again. “I’m sorry!” He hesitated, then glanced up at Raine. “I didn’t say sorry right then. I, I wish I had. I should have.”

“Understood,” Raine said softly.

Percy looked back down and picked up the pterodactyl. “Curse him, Titan! Add to our numbers!” He wiggled Bob. “I thought you were my friend! I hate you! You ruined my life! Die!”

He turned Bob away, and after a moment’s thought, scooped up all of the play arai and bundled them toward himself and Annabeth, sweeping them in the curve of his hands.

“Rah!” he said. Then he tugged himself and Annabeth out from the pile and scraped them against the floor, running toward the paper, where he had himself stop Annabeth. “Wait! Cliff!” He brought the arai over, and one tapped against Annabeth. “Ahh!” He had her slam the arai against the ground, then started flailing her back and forth. “Percy! Percy, where are you?” He tapped himself. “I’m here!” He tapped Annabeth. “Percy! I’m scared! Why did you leave me?” He tapped himself again. “I’m right here!”

Tears stung his eyes. He brushed them away impatiently.

“It’s no use!” he said, waving around a pterodactyl. “She has unleashed Calypso’s curse, the curse of loneliness! You abandoned her and now Annabeth feels her despair!" He flailed his figure. “No! No! Calypso would never curse me!” He waved the pterodactyl. “Why shouldn’t she after what you did to her?” He hesitated, then dropped himself for Annabeth again. “Percy! Please! Where are you?”

He paused to breathe. Regina Spektor was playing now, but he couldn’t focus enough to identify the song. It soothed him, though, reminding him of drives to Montauk and helping his mom with housework.

“Ahhh!” He flailed his own figure, swiping at the arai figurines. He didn’t bother clearing them away, just tossed them back and forth a few times while he made pained noises with his figure. Finally, he smacked one, tossed it aside, and tossed his figure down. “Ahhh! It hurts! My throat hurts!” He grabbed a bird. “The curse of Phineas, who you murdered with gorgon’s blood! You’ve chosen a painful death!” He prodded his figure, making it flail on the floor. “It hurts! I’m sorry!” He grabbed Annabeth. “Percy! Percy, please come back!” He poked his again. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Bob, please protect Annabeth!”

He took a deep breath. There were tears on his face, but he felt more like he’d had a good, hard cry, flushing away the ickiness in his chest.

Finally, he grabbed Bob’s figure again and brought it over. “Sweep!” He used its broom to hit all of the arai away from him and Annabeth, then wobbled over to Annabeth and patted her. “All better!” He wobbled it over to Percy. “It’s okay. I will take you to safety.”

He had Dumbledore-Bob pick his figure up, hesitated, and dropped them both. He felt shaky, like he’d climbed the lava wall a hundred times in a row.

“That’s...” He swallowed, bracing himself on the floor without looking up. “What happened with Bob, and the arai... I, I can’t stop thinking about it. I keep having nightmares. I don’t...” He trailed off.

He looked up. Raine’s eyes were glassy, but she looked determined as she got up to sit beside him. She held out an arm in silent invitation, and without another word, he fell into her and started crying on her shoulder, releasing a whole hidden reservoir of pain and fear.

She let him cry until his breath evened out and he was sniffling, and didn’t speak again until he’d pulled away, wiping his eyes. She placed her hands on her lap, and after a minute, he mirrored her posture and wiped his eyes again.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it yet,” Raine said quietly, “but I think it would help you if we ran the tension release exercise now.”

He hiccupped. “Okay.”

The morning had been so hard that Percy wouldn’t have guessed that the afternoon would be the best he’d had in a while. Maybe since before his kidnapping.

“Yo!” Leo waved cheerfully as they approached. Jason strode down the path with his hands in his pockets, and Grover trotted closer with his furry legs in full view. Piper took up the back.

Percy smiled tiredly and waved back, but didn’t get up from the creek bank. “Hey,” he called out.

“Rough morning?” Piper asked sympathetically, sitting nearby.

“Very,” Percy said emphatically. He slumped back, propping his weight on his hands. “Really shitty week altogether, honestly.”

“Where’s Nico?” Jason asked.

“Nice, dude,” Grover deadpanned. Jason winced in embarrassment.

“Sorry, Percy. What happened?”

Percy snorted. “It’s fine.” He wasn’t too surprised that he’d worn out his welcome in Jason’s attention span. “Nico’s having a hard time adjusting to being around so many people all the time, so he’s resting in his room right now. He’d probably be okay with it if you went to get him though. Room eight.” Nico had an inexplicable soft spot for Jason.

“So,” Piper said as Jason took off toward the main building, “since Storm Butt didn’t give you a chance to talk about it – what happened?”

Percy loved his friends. “We had to adjust the way we did therapy a little, because the regular talk therapy stuff was seriously burning me out,” he explained. “We’ve done a couple sessions of play therapy now and it’s really nice.”

“Play therapy sounds like your jam,” Grover said, amused. Percy grinned briefly.

“Doesn’t it? And it means I get to kinda act out what happened instead of like, explaining it in excruciating detail.” He glanced at Leo. “Thought any more about talking to Chiron?”

Leo’s cheeks darkened, but he tried to shrug it off. “I kinda did, yeah,” he said. “Chiron gave me a couple phone numbers. I haven’t called any of them yet.”

“Me too,” Piper added, shrugging at Leo’s surprised look. “I’ve been IMing Annabeth a lot, and she... well, she’s been trying to fix her relationship with her dad, and...”

Percy ‘oh’ed in understanding. “You think he’ll come?”

Piper hesitated, then nodded. “I- think so. I haven’t been home since like, the beginning of last school year. He... he says he misses me.” Quieter, “And his current contract is almost up. I have some time before he picks up a new one, probably.”

Percy felt more sympathetic than he could reasonably express, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Luckily, a suitable distraction appeared just in time.

“Hey, Jason found Death Breath,” Percy said, nodding in that direction. Sure enough, Nico was shuffling beside Jason, hands in his pockets.

“So did Percy tell you how he had a shitty week yet?” Nico asked, apparently instantly prepared to throw Percy under the bus.

“He just said he was getting overwhelmed,” Piper said, because she remembered stuff like that.

Nico shrugged too. “That also, I guess. Anyway, yesterday he had a panic attack because I told him he was nice, so that’s how he’s doing.”

“Wh- you’re such a dick,” Percy snapped. He crossed his arms against the concerned looks going his way. “I’m fine, that’s what we were working on this morning. I have a guilt complex, it’s bad for me, this isn’t news.”

Nico shrugged, and Jason said, unexpectedly shrewd, “Gave you a scare, huh?”

Nico slumped back and scowled, but he didn’t deny it. He yanked up some grass and played with it when Percy gave him a surprised look. “He looked like he’d been hit over the head with a frying pan or something, okay? And then Cassia pulled him out of the line and held him while he hyperventilated. Freaked me out.”

“Sorry,” Percy said, avoiding Grover’s openly worried look.

“I’m the one that was pitching a hissy fit,” Nico countered, with unexpected bitterness.

“I told you, it’s fine. You’re stressed out too. I get it.”

“No one is having an easy time and it’s not a competition,” Piper interrupted, with just enough charmspeak to get them both to relax. Letting the power leave her voice, she continued, “How’s your stuff been going, Nico? As hard as you were expecting?”

Nico hesitated, but Jason looked at him expectantly and he gave in. “Yeah, it sucks. So far it’s almost all been stupid exercises to build social skills or something.”

Percy made a soft sound of comprehension. “My first couple weeks were skills-building too,” he said. Nico gave him a skeptical look. “They were! I mean, different skills, obviously. But she kept talking about how I was missing skills to help me seek support and manage stress and stuff.”

Nico studied Percy for a long, unreadable moment, and then shrugged. “Whatever. I guess you have to know how to handle feelings before they put you through the wringer.”

“This is like, the biggest crowd I’ve ever seen on a visiting day.”

Before he knew it, a broad smile was breaking out across Percy’s face, and he jumped on his feet, turned on a dime, and hugged Jet hard enough to lift him a little.

“You’re not mad!” Percy said, delighted.

“Obviously,” Jet said, pushing him away with an exasperated look. Percy let him go, smiling sheepishly. His relief might’ve made him a little overenthusiastic. “Excuses really, really don’t get more legit than a sudden coma.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Kylie and Alfie came too, and the others say hi.”

Percy grinned, and for good measure he hugged Kylie and Alfie too. Kylie looked as delighted as he was, eyes warm, and she sat first when he brought them to his camp friends.

“Guys, this is Jet, Kylie, and Alfie, I met them during my last stay here,” he explained, and then, to the three mortals, “These are my friends from camp – Grover, Nico, Leo, Jason, and Piper. Annabeth’s in San Francisco though.”

“Why do you have so many friends?” Jet demanded.

“I’m friendly, Jet,” Percy countered, but he couldn’t hide his grin.

Piper looked surprised. “You have normal friends?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Percy demanded. Piper just stared at him, and Percy rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I mean, mostly just the people I met here, but still. It’s not like I’m a year-rounder, Piper.”

“You may as well be, as much as you visit,” Grover said with amusement.

Kylie waved at Percy’s demigod friends with a bashful smile. “Hi. Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt, but we were all really worried when Percy went silent, and then when he said he’d had to come back to St. Joan’s...” She shrugged. “We figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by and surprise him.”

“I’m really glad you did,” Percy said firmly. “How’d you get here, though?”

“Alfie’s parents gave us a ride,” Jet said, elbowing Alfie, who was still anxiously examining Percy like he’d find hidden injuries. “Dude, you were more worried than anyone, are you seriously just going to stand there?”

“I’m trying not to be rude, okay?” Alfie protested, but he relaxed and sat down with the rest of them, eying Percy’s demigod friends curiously. “Are you all from Percy’s camp?”

“Percy’s camp,” Piper mumbled under her breath, looking amused. “And he wonders why I’m surprised he has normal friends.”

Percy rolled his eyes again, and Leo gave Alfie a thumbs up.

“Kinda,” Leo said cheerfully. At some point he’d scattered metal parts around him, making the grass into a rough workspace. “I mean, Percy and Annabeth are like, the ultra veterans, so I dunno how much it counts for. But Piper and I popped in late last year.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Jason demanded.

“You’re from that other camp,” Leo pointed out. “And also, Percy and Annabeth, man.”

“...Granted,” Jason conceded, making Percy feel self-conscious.

“After the bullshit that this summer was, I think it counts for a whole lot,” he told Leo, who immediately looked at least as self-conscious as Percy felt. “Hey, with this many of us, I bet we have more than enough for some schoolyard games. Anyone up for it?”

“I’m always up for a kids’ game,” Grover said with a grin. Percy was reminded abruptly that Grover, like Annabeth, had pretty much grown up in a summer camp. “What were you thinking?”

“Down by the Banks?” Kylie suggested instantly, and then turned pink. “Sorry! I really like it, but I haven’t gotten to play it- well, since I was here.”

“I got no complaints,” Percy said.

“I do,” Jet said. “That stupid song is gonna be stuck in my head all week again.” Kylie and Alfie both laughed at him.

“I don’t know how to play,” Nico announced, hands in his pockets again.

“Me either,” Jason said.

“I can explain!” Kylie said, earnest and hopeful.

Under Kylie’s direction, they sat in a circle, cross-legged knee to knee, and set their hands palms-up on their knees. Leo bounced with excitement, Piper looked indulgent, and Kylie was beaming. Percy was too.

“Enough of us here know the words that you can pick them up as we play,” Kylie said earnestly, “and you play by passing around the ‘frog’ like this.” She clapped her right hand against Jet’s overlapping her left, and he passed it on to Alfie the same way. “You follow?”

“I think so,” Jason said, glancing at Nico. Nico scowled.

“I don’t like being touched,” he said. Kylie looked crestfallen.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that.”

“Why don’t you referee?” Piper suggested. “We can still play a round of this-” She glanced at Kylie, who smiled gratefully. “And then switch to something else.”

“What am I refereeing?” Nico asked, pulling away to scoot into the middle.

“I didn’t finish,” Kylie admitted. “But when we reach the end of the lyrics, the last person with the frog is out. That’s either whoever gets it on the last beat, or the person before them if they pull away in time. Um, does that make sense?”

“No, but you know what, I think I’ll figure it out,” Jason said, shifting to patch up the gap Nico had left with Leo.

“Ready?” Kylie asked, and waited for a chorus of affirmations before she began. “Down by the banks of the hankity-pank-”

Percy felt himself smile, and he joined in without thinking, passing it from Grover on to Jason. “Where the bullfrogs jump from bank to bank-”

Leo was grinning. Of course he liked clapping games, Percy thought with amusement. “With an eeps, ipes, opes, ops-”

“Leap off a lily pad and go ker-plop!” Piper yanked her hand away just as Jason clapped down, causing him to smack his own hand.

“Pipes!” Jason protested. “Ah, hell, that’s what it means.”

“That means Jason’s out, right?” Nico asked.

“Normally,” Alfie said, glancing at Jason apologetically. “But it’s his first time, right? We can give him a pass.”

“Softie,” Jet accused, but he sat back, not looking bothered. “I’m starting this one. Down by the banks of the hankity-pank-”

It was probably the most fun Percy had had in weeks; the only thing that could make it better was if Annabeth was here. He’d never played Down by the Banks with her, but he was sure she knew it; being at camp her whole life, she’d played schoolyard games he’d never even heard of.

Jason, to his clear chagrin, was the third one out even with the pass, and Percy went when Grover caught him on round five. He bumped Grover good-naturedly and went to sit with Jason while the last four competed.

“Hey,” Jason said, after only a minute or two. “About earlier.”

Percy frowned. “Earlier?”

“I kinda brushed you off when you were...” Jason trailed off.

“Whining?” Percy said ruefully, realizing what Jason was talking about it. “It’s fine, seriously. Listening to people complain about their week is boring.”

Jason ignored this. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t care about you.”

“It’s fine,” Percy repeated, an edge creeping into his voice despite himself. “You were worried about Nico. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, but...” Jason trailed off, hesitating for a moment before starting over. “Let me apologize for this, alright? No matter why I did it, brushing you off like that isn’t something friends do.”

Percy opened his mouth to dismiss it again, but something stopped him, and he faltered. With some effort, he acknowledged to himself that he did feel kind of hurt, and told himself that it wasn’t selfish to want to be listened to.

Jason seemed to sense the shift. “I’d been worrying about Nico the whole way over, so I didn’t think before I spoke. But that doesn’t make it right.”

Finally, Percy relented, and it felt more like a win than defeat. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

Jason smiled, looking outright pleased at the concession. “You want to tell me now?”

Percy managed a smile. “Nico pretty much shared the gist of it,” he said dryly. Jason’s smile vanished at the reminder, and Percy hesitated before continuing. “But... we talked about Tartarus this morning. About how Bob almost changed his mind.”

“...Bob is the titan that helped you down there, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Percy looked down, tugging at a shoelace. The game was down to the last two players. “He came because he thought we were friends. Then, uh, he figured out that we weren’t.”

Jason’s eyes flashed with recognition. “You weren’t nice to him.”

Panic clamped down around Percy’s chest like a vice, but it was so familiar by now that it felt almost like dodging a sword swipe. He brought up his knees to shield his face against them, inhaled carefully, and thought of sand in his mouth and campfire smoke. The sound of the ocean.

The next thing he knew, Grover was on his other side, hugging him with one arm. “Jason, my man, you really are not batting a thousand today.”

“I’m really not,” Jason sighed. “Sorry, Percy.”

Percy grunted, and after a moment of thought, leaned into Grover, instinctively taking comfort from him. When he felt like the danger had passed, he uncurled and took a deep, steadying breath, then looked up. Everyone was looking at him. It was incredibly awkward, and Percy was too disoriented to figure out how to move on from it.

He was saved when Amethyst and Mike jogged over, Mike with his parents and Amethyst with a girl Percy didn’t recognize.

“Is this a neighborhood party or what?” Amethyst asked, looking surprised at the crowd. “Also, can we play?”

“No grown-ups allowed,” Jet said. “But you can, sure. What are we playing next? Tag?”

“No!” Nico said.

“Shadow tag!” Leo offered.

Chapter Text

“I’m David, and this here is Cacao,” the man explained, nudging the Chow Chow next to him toward Percy. Percy dropped down and held his hand out for Cacao to sniff, and the dog licked his palm. “You’re Percy, right?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, scratching Cacao behind the ear. “She’s so fluffy.”

“That’s eighty percent of her charm, I think,” David said warmly. “How are you feeling today?”

Percy glanced up at him, startled by the question, but David looked sincere.

“I’m okay,” he said after a moment, smiling as Cacao nudged her nose against his skin. “I’ve just got a lot of stuff to work through and, uh, not a lot of mental energy to do it with.” He smiled softly, rubbing the friendly fluffball. “Is this like, your job?”

“I wish,” David chuckled. “No, this is volunteer work. And really Cacao is doing everything important anyway.”

Percy flashed him a smile. “Does that make you her agent? Like for an actor?”

David laughed out loud.

“It does now,” he said. “Now, I was told that you wanted privacy for these sessions, right?” Percy ducked his head. “Hey, that’s fine. I’m sure you’re talking about a lot of really personal things. And I’ll be hanging out in the lobby and playing Pokémon while you’re talking about the horrible things that have happened to you, so I think it’s you that’s getting the short end of the stick.”

Percy laughed in surprise and waved to David as he left, then turned back to Raine, who was waiting patiently. Cacao wagged her tail.

“Settle down wherever you like,” Raine told him. “We’ll start when you’re ready.”

Percy’s smile faded, and he nodded. After a moment’s thought, he settled down in his favorite corner, between the wall and the bookshelf, and patted his lap. Cacao happily piled herself into it like a cat and flumped down, panting. He rubbed her flank, relaxing at the feeling of the soft, warm fur. Finally, he looked up, and Raine took that as her cue.

“Can you tell me a little more about the memory you shared with me on Saturday?” she prompted gently.

Percy stayed quiet for a minute, rubbing Cacao’s fluffy ruff.

“I’ve had a lot of nightmares about the arai,” he confessed, scratching her neck. “It’s like my brain took it as open invitation to dig up every halfway bad thing I’ve ever done and make up curses for it. Bianca, Luke, Reyna, Circe, even fucking Gabe- it’s like someone gathered up all my guilt and pressed the ‘convert to fear’ button.”

“It sounds like that’s essentially what happened,” Raine said. Percy frowned in confusion, shifting under Cacao’s comforting weight, and she elaborated, “You already felt guilt for most of the things you were confronted with that day, and then that guilt translated directly to physical danger at a time when your emotions were already heightened. I’m not surprised that the responses became hardwired together.”

“Great,” Percy said unenthusiastically. He scratched Cacao’s ear. “How do we fix it?”

“I’m not certain that we can,” Raine admitted. “More than likely, only time will lessen the effect. Still, taking the time to understand your feelings should be a step in the right direction. Do you feel ready for that?”

In, one two three. Out, one two three. In, one two three-

“Sure,” Percy said quietly, flicking Cacao’s ear idly.

“You seem anxious,” Raine pointed out.

“I am,” Percy conceded, grimacing down. Cacao licked his fingers, and he relaxed a little. “I, I don’t want to do this. But I want it hanging over me even less. You know?” He looked up pleadingly, and Raine nodded in understanding.

“You don’t feel ready to approach it,” she said. “You’re afraid of the memory.”

Percy didn’t respond, just pet the dog some more.

Most of Annabeth’s nightmares had been about Akhlys. Percy’s – he didn’t dare admit it to anyone, least of all Annabeth, but most of Percy’s were of Bob. Those were the nightmares that most often left him gagging with fear and guilt.

He didn’t realize he’d started crying until tears fell onto his hand.

“Let’s start there,” Raine said at last, soft and gentle. Cacao lifted her head to lick Percy’s cheek, and he smiled through the tears, sitting up. “Why are you afraid to face this memory?”

To Percy’s relief, that was a much less intimidating question. “It’s my rock bottom,” he said, stroking Cacao absently. “I mean- most of Annabeth’s nightmares of Tartarus are of, um, something else that I also don’t want to talk about. But for me, most of them were, were this. These were the nightmares that were making me, like, run to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”

“I see,” Raine murmured. “How do you feel about those nightmares?”

Percy swallowed. “Ashamed,” he said, without looking up from Cacao’s heaving flank. “I shouldn’t be having nightmares about Bob. Bob is the only reason we got out.”

“Why do you think your nightmares are focused on Bob?”

Percy shifted, encouraging Cacao to roll closer to him, and settled a little when she did, pressed reassuringly along his stomach and lap. “Because...” He dipped his head a little, hiding his eyes, and cradled the pup. “Because I feel like I deserved to die in Tartarus. I don’t understand why he came back.”

“Why do you think you deserved to die in Tartarus?”

Percy’s breath caught, and he had to stop himself from clutching anxiously at Cacao. As it is, his grip tightened enough that she started licking his arm, trying to comfort him. As if he deserved-

Percy took a deep breath.

“I never checked on Bob after I dropped him off with Hades,” he said. Cacao nuzzled into the crook of his arm, breathing evenly. It kept his heartbeat from getting too rabbity. “Why didn’t I do that?”

“Why should you have?” Raine asked.

Percy stared at her, feeling sort of like he’d been punched in the gut. “Why?”

“Why should you have?” Raine repeated, voice quiet and serious. “You weren’t previously acquainted, and you’d met in a lethal fight. When you’d incapacitated your opponent, you left him with someone qualified to look after him. Why would you have any obligations beyond that?”

“But Hades didn’t look after him,” Percy argued. “He made him a janitor.” Recognition glinted in Raine’s eyes, but she didn’t interrupt. “I basically ruined his life, and I- I didn’t even check on him? And I seriously expected him to save my life?”

“You expected nothing,” Raine corrected quietly. “He saved you out of the kindness of his heart.”

“Only because he thought we were friends,” Percy said, voice cracking with stress. The therapy dog squirmed in his lap and flumped against him, easy to hold and cuddle, and he held on as gently as he could, his eyes stinging. “He wouldn’t have done anything if he hadn’t thought we were friends.”

“Did you tell him you were friends?” Raine asked.

“Nico did,” Percy said miserably.

“Are you Nico?” Raine asked. The absurdity of the question made Percy stop short, mouth opening and closing in confusion, and Raine nodded. “Are you responsible for Nico’s actions?”

“But...” Percy trailed off, struggling to line things up in his mind.

“Further,” Raine pressed, raising her pen as if for attention. “Have you ever visited the Underworld other than for quests?”

“If we’re counting the swim in the Styx as quest stuff...” Percy trailed off, hesitant and ginger. “I don’t think so?”

“So how could you have visited Bob?” Raine asked quietly.

Percy stared at her, and after a minute, an ugly whimper pulled itself out of his chest. He hid his face and made another weird sound, an odd sort of gasp, and then a pitiful moan. He hugged Cacao and hiccupped into her while she licked his face, waiting for the overwhelming ache to drain back out of him.

“I still lied to him,” he said after a while, without looking up. His vision glimmered brightly. “When he showed up, I... I tried to keep him from realizing otherwise. I went out of my way to distract him from anything that would make him think otherwise.”

“A friendly face showed up in the pits of hell to save you,” Raine reminded him. “Even the kindest, most selfless person in the world would be hard-pressed to give that up.”

“But it was wrong,” Percy said miserably.

“You are not a god, Percy,” Raine said. “You are not an angel. You are human, and you’re allowed to be that. You’re allowed to act out in fear.”

Cacao licked Percy’s neck, easing some of the pressure from his chest, and for a moment he smiled through the tears, petting the dog and scratching her ruff.

“I don’t understand,” he said at last, voice quiet and small.

“What don’t you understand?”

He looked up at Raine again, eyes wet and spilling over. “...Then why did he leave?”

“What do you think?”

“H-he must have hated me,” he croaked, soft and pitchy with emotion. “I... can’t really wrap my brain around it otherwise. He was going to let us die. He... was he watching us struggle? D-did he watch me trying to protect Annabeth after she got Calypso’s curse? Or did he, I dunno, sit down and mope while we were running away?” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what I feel. I just... it hurts.”

“You feel hurt?” Raine prodded gently.

“No,” Percy protested. “I- it was my fault. I can’t feel hurt over it.”

“You were abandoned in the pits of Hell by the only person who could help you,” Raine said quietly. “You can feel however you want about that.”

A sob broke out of Percy’s chest before he could try to muffle it, and he hunched down as the next one joined it. In a couple of minutes, he was crying, venting out all of the pent-up terror and guilt and hurt that had stewed together every time he pushed away the memory of Bob’s brief betrayal. He rocked in place and keened, and hugged the fluffy little dog like a lifeline. After a while, Raine sat beside him and let him lean into her, sobbing.

She let him pass a while like that, weeping his heart out until he started to feel like himself again and pulled away.

“I was so scared,” he confessed, still trembling. “I figured I’d fucked up our only chance to get out of Tartarus before we even set foot in it.” He hitched Cacao closer. “I mean- forget the arai, Bob had been healing us every time we started wheezing since we left the Phlegethon. We’d never have found it again in time. I, I thought we were gonna die down there.”

“But you didn’t,” Raine reminded him.

“I should have,” Percy murmured.

“You don’t need to blame yourself every time someone hurts you, Percy,” Raine said softly. “It’s not your fault.”

Percy looked up, startled out of his fugue. “Huh? I don’t do that. Mostly I fight people that hurt me.”

Raine chuckled. “You rarely let it slide,” she allowed, “which is an important skill. But you blame yourself. You say it’s because you talked back, or because you were born, or because of something that you did. You rarely accept that they simply chose to hurt you.”

“It’s not that simple,” Percy mumbled. “There’s always a reason.”

“There is,” Raine agreed. “A reason, a justification of some sort – but that doesn’t mean that the fault lies with you. It is their fault that they chose to hurt you. It is not yours for giving them an excuse.”

“Why not?” Percy asked bitterly.

“Because they chose to hurt you,” Raine repeated, firm and unwavering. “Provocation only creates the opportunity to choose. They don’t have to take it.”

“But what if I deserve it?” Percy regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but he didn’t take them back. He hid his face.

“You never deserve to get hurt,” Raine said. “Trauma is not a punishment. And you did not deserve to be abandoned in Tartarus.”

Percy flinched, huddling closer to Cacao’s soft flank. “Bob didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Whether he was right or wrong is irrelevant,” Raine said. “He hurt you, and it’s not wrong for you to feel hurt by what happened. You don’t need to absolve him by taking the blame onto yourself. It is not your fault that he left you there.”

Percy shuddered, feeling shaken and fragile. A cold nose pressed comfortingly against his cheek, and he tried to relax. “I don’t think I can be mad at him,” he said quietly, closing his eyes as Cacao nosed at his face, thwapping her tail on the ground. “Not after everything he did for us.”

“You don’t have to be mad at him,” Raine said. “You just have to forgive yourself.”

“Forgive myself for being mean to Bob?”

“Forgive yourself for not having control over Bob’s choices,” Raine said. “Bob’s decision to stay or leave was not in your locus of control, and you need to accept that. You could not have prevented him from leaving.”

Percy swallowed painfully. “I don’t think I like that any better.”

“I know,” Raine murmured. “It’s a frightening realization. But you can’t keep blaming yourself for your pain and trauma, Percy. It’s not helping you.”

Isn’t it my fault sometimes? Percy wanted to ask, but then he flashed back to Cassia the previous year, prompting the group for a well-learned response. Traumatic events are not our fault. He hugged Cacao and tried it out. “Being... being b-better would... would not have protected me in Tartarus.”

When he looked up, Raine was smiling at him. “Very good, Percy,” she said quietly. “Can you keep going?”

Percy wanted to freeze up, but he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and nodded.

“It was Bob’s choice to leave me and Annabeth behind,” he forced out, breathing heavily. “I couldn’t have stopped him.”

He hugged the dog. Cacao squirmed, her flank fluttering against Percy, and shuffled her paws as if to get more comfortable. He took a breath and imagined salty air, campfire smoke, and crashing waves.

“That was very good,” Raine murmured. “Breathe. You’re doing wonderfully.” She paused, letting him settle, and then continued, “Are you ready to talk about Calypso?”

Percy nodded stiffly, and said without prompting, “I feel bad, being upset with her. People say that stuff all the time when they’re upset. It doesn’t mean they want the curse to actually happen.”

“Which means that you know there wasn’t any truly malicious intent behind Calypso’s actions,” Raine agreed. “Still, she was a pivotal part of what was an extremely traumatic event for you, and you’re not obligated to overlook that.” She paused, waiting, and then prompted, “You’re very determined to defend her. Do you know why?”

Percy hesitated, and then shifted under Cacao and sighed heavily.

“I’m mad,” he admitted, softer and more melancholy than he usually said it. “I, I don’t like that I’m mad, but I am. Seeing Annabeth like that... I felt like my heart got ripped out.” Percy shrugged. “I know that sounds cliché. But Annabeth’s my second half, you know? We’re a team, we’ve been a team since we were twelve. It... it really hurt to see her helpless like that, and, and thinking I’d left her to die. And... it makes me angry that Calypso did that to her, even on accident.”

“Are you just mad?” Raine pressed gently. “You often use anger to defend yourself from more painful emotions.”

Percy winced, but he knew himself well enough by now to acknowledge that it was true. “I felt guilty too,” he decided after a while, shifting back and forth a little to make Cacao grumble and stir around. He almost smiled. “Like it was my fault that it happened.” He hesitated, and then added, softer, “I... I felt like we were both being punished for me not being a good enough person. Like...” He made the connection and sighed, shoulders slumping. “Like I could have avoided it if I’d just been better.”

“You’re familiar with that thought, aren’t you?” Raine prompted. Percy grimaced and nodded. “What do you think now?”

“...I still owe her an apology,” he decided. “Two wrongs don’t make a right. But...” He took a breath. “It wasn’t fair that I got blamed for what happened to her. It’s not my fault, and I... I think I did everything I could. She didn’t haven’t have to...” He hesitated, then changed his mind. “I didn’t deserve what happened.”

Raine smiled at him, pleased and proud.

“No,” she agreed, “you didn’t.”

“This is always a difficult session, so I’d like all of you to be patient with yourselves and with each other,” Cassia warned, giving them time to brace themselves before she elaborated. “Today we’re going to talk about self-sabotage.”

In this respect, the reaction of the room was nearly identical to the last time Percy had heard this lesson. Half the room closed off instantly, with Nico’s expression darkening and Amethyst scowling and Ruya lowering her head to hide her face, and others looked defeated – Lucy, Mike. Percy, familiar with the material, just sighed and leaned back on the wall.

Cassia was unfazed, or at least, she knew how to look it, cross-legged on one edge of the room. “Rule number one of self-sabotage is that it’s not your fault,” she said. “You aren’t stupid or bad for engaging in it, and it doesn’t mean that you deserve to struggle.” Some of the tension in the room eased up. “Rule number two is that it is your responsibility. No one else can save you from it; you have to recognize and resolve it yourself.”

“What does it look like,” Percy deadpanned, when no one else moved to ask. Cassia gave him a grateful smile, eyes glittering with amusement.

“Self-sabotage is when you behave in a way that specifically prevents you from being successful,” Cassia explained. “It can be intentional or unintentional, but it generally comes from a fear of failure. For example, you’re afraid of doing poorly on a school project, so you don’t turn anything in at all. You successfully avoided turning in something bad, but you also prevented yourself from turning in something good. Or you’re worried about making friends in a new school, so you refuse to speak to anyone. Does that make sense?”

Amethyst raised a hand, but didn’t wait to be called on before piping up. “So, is this or is this not about trying harder?”

Sympathy edged Cassia’s expression. “It’s not,” she said. “After all, in a way, the reason you are struggling is because you want so badly to succeed. We’re mainly going to talk about recognizing self-sabotaging behaviors today, because that tends to be the most difficult part. Once you’ve recognized it, it’s up to you to disengage from the habit. We’ll talk more about that later.”

“Do we at least get time to think about it before you start making us share?” Violetta asked resignedly. Cassia let out a startled laugh.

“Would everyone like some time before we do the activity?” she asked. A grumbled chorus of affirmations answered her. “Alright, take ten minutes and then we’ll play hot potato.”

The room went quiet, and Percy sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back on the wall, waiting for it to be over. A couple minutes later, he stiffened and opened them again as Cassia sat beside him.

“Is something the matter, Percy?” she asked quietly.

“I haven’t made any progress on this,” he said, blunt and frustrated. “I’m still doing the exact same stupid shit I was last year, even though I’ve done this lesson already. I-” He cut himself off before he could berate himself, and drew his knees closer instead.

Cassia reached down to squeeze his hand in reassurance. “You had a hard year,” she reminded him. “Do you remember our self-care pyramid?” Percy hesitated, straining a little to remember, but after a minute it popped into his head and he nodded. “Did you have your bottom three tiers this year?”

“No.”

“Working to improve yourself is tier four self-care,” Cassia said. “You were struggling to meet your needs at all. It’s perfectly understandable that you weren’t able to put time into this, and I won’t think any less of you for it, okay?”

Percy softened, feeling some relief and some lingering exhaustion. “Okay.”

Cassia smiled at him, then let go of his hand and returned to her spot. Over the next few minutes, she moved to sit by Violetta, then Nico before she grabbed the bright red hot potato ball and called for attention.

“Does everyone remember the rules for hot potato?” she asked. Everyone nodded. “Alright. If you’re holding the ball when I stop the music, I want you to name one self-sabotaging behavior you’ve recognized in yourself, and we’ll discuss it for a minute before the next round.”

She held out the ball, pressed play on her stereo, and tossed the ball to Mike, who caught it, grimaced, and tossed it to Amethyst, who scowled and tossed it to Nico. For the next minute, a pop song played while they threw the ball at each other, trying to hold onto it for as little time as possible.

Cassia pressed stop. Ruya sighed at the ball in her hands.

“I feel like I don’t read as fast as I used to,” she said quietly, “so I don’t read for fun at all anymore.”

Lucy winced, and Amethyst groaned loudly.

“Oh, I feel that,” Amethyst said. “God, I miss being a gifted kid.”

“If it makes you feel better, a lot of the kids last time said that too,” Percy offered, leaning back. “I think because teachers are always complaining about how kids these days don’t read.”

Ruya nodded. “Teachers are really judgy about how students spend their time,” she said, with more sadness than the anger Percy would have expected. “It makes me not want to do anything.” Lucy and Violetta murmured in agreement.

“Does anyone have any suggestions for how to help?” Cassia asked.

“Read books you used to love,” Violetta offered. “That’s how I broke the habit. Like- children’s books, I mean, stuff that’s easy.”

“That’s embarrassing,” Ruya said.

“A little,” Violetta said. “But it helped remind me why I used to love it so much.”

Ruya considered that for a moment, then nodded and looked at Cassia. Cassia smiled at her, waited a minute for anyone else to suggest something, and then pressed play.

The ball went around a few times, picking its victims. Mike talked about oversleeping instead of going to play with his friends. Amethyst admitted that she was rude on purpose when she got introduced to a new foster home. Violetta mentioned self-isolating in school.

“I do that,” Nico said, surprising most of them. He kept his gaze kept firmly on the floor, shoulders tense, but didn’t shy away. “Uh, self-isolating. Not talking to people because I think they won’t like me.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Violetta said ruefully. “Sometimes I think it’s lonelier than going out and having people hate me.”

Nico hesitated, then nodded. “Less stressful though.”

“Does anyone have suggestions?” Cassia asked.

“It’s affirmation o’clock,” Amethyst announced. “Right? This is when you sit down and like, tell yourself that you’re likeable and worth it and whatever.”

“Ew,” Nico said.

“Yeah, that’s kinda how I feel too,” Violetta said. “But Amethyst is right, I think.” She shrugged. “You haven’t had a proper self-esteem Friday yet, but they help with affirmations a lot.”

They passed around the ball again. Percy cursed under his breath as he fumbled the ball, keeping him from passing it off in time.

“Authority figures make me nervous,” he muttered, avoiding looking at Nico, “so I’m more defensive and angry around them.”

Nico snorted inelegantly. “Oh my gods, that explains so much about you.”

Percy managed a smile and nodded without looking up.

“Feel that one like a punch in the gut,” Amethyst sighed, and Percy glanced up in time to see Nico nodding. “I think- it’s because it’s less stressful when you know why they’re mad at you.”

Percy considered that, then nodded. “Yeah, I can kinda see that. Especially once they know you’re a problem kid and hate you just for existing.” He tossed and caught the ball. “I know I talked about this last year, but I don’t remember the answer, honestly. How do I stop myself from acting out?”

“The root of the problem isn’t that you’re acting out,” Cassia reminded Percy, making him start. “The root of it is that you’re afraid of authority figures. What can you do to help with that?”

He scowled. Mike winced.

“You know, just make that face at them and I think they’ll go away,” Mike said. Percy stopped scowling and looked away.

“He’s tried that a couple times,” Nico told him. “Not as effective as it should be.”

“Boys,” Cassia interrupted. “Percy?”

“All I did was make a face,” Percy protested to the wall.

“You’re not being excused, Percy,” Cassia said gently. “Do you have any ideas for helping with your difficulty dealing with authority?”

Evidently not, Percy bit off, frustrated with himself. He took a deep, slow breath, and let it out.

“That’s a good approach,” Cassia encouraged. Percy blinked up at her, startled, and Cassia clarified, “Taking time to calm yourself before dealing with an authority figure may help make it easier.”

“I’m bad at that,” Percy said.

“Practice,” Cassia said. “You don’t need to be perfect. You’re just trying to make things a little easier.”

“I’ll talk about anger management with Raine again,” Percy muttered.

“Can you think of something to help with the fear?” Cassia repeated. Percy hugged his knees and hid his scowl against them, rapidly losing his will to answer. To his surprise, one of the other kids stepped in.

“The fear issue is probably related to catastrophization, right?” Amethyst offered, fiddling with a glittering bouncy ball from the shelf. “So it should help to run that, uh, the best-case, worst-case, most-likely exercise.”

Percy considered that, and then relaxed a little. “Yeah, that could help,” he agreed quietly.

Nico cursed as he caught the ball two rounds later, and turned it over in his hands a few times, scowling.

“Isolating myself was the important one,” he muttered, leaning back on the wall. “But whatever. I guess... I want to help out sometimes, but I keep messing up on purpose.”

“Can you elaborate a little?” Cassia requested. “What are you doing that isn’t helping you?”

Nico sighed. “Listening to bad advice, mostly,” he said. “Even when I know it’s bad. Being reckless on purpose. Ignoring good advice when I know it’s good.”

“That’s the worst,” Lucy said, with a mix of sympathy and misery. “I hate ignoring good advice on purpose.”

Nico squinted at her. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No!” Lucy protested, cheeks reddening. “Um, I was thinking- Hope kept trying to get me to tell a teacher that I’d gotten kicked out of my parents’ house, because my schoolwork was suffering. And I kept telling her I’d figure it out even though I knew I couldn’t.”

Nico softened and gave her a nod, and looked up when Cassia got their attention.

“Can you think of a way to notice when that’s happening and try to stop it?” Cassia prompted. Nico frowned, picking at a shoelace.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “My judgement is shitty.”

“That’s a good starting point,” Cassia encouraged. Nico scowled in confusion. “Try to discuss that with Eddie, and he’ll help you understand where your difficulty is.”

“...Sure,” Nico said grudgingly.

Chapter Text

“Would you like Percy to stay or would you prefer to speak in private?” Mai asked.

Annabeth’s eyes flashed, a calculating look briefly passing behind them before she said, “He stays.”

Percy crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back, grabbing a maze ball to play with. I’m not going anywhere, he tried to project, and maybe it came across because Annabeth relaxed just a little.

“Alright,” Mai said, settling more firmly behind her desk. “May I record this conversation? I appreciate being able to refer back to earlier sessions and listen to anything I may have overlooked.”

Annabeth gave her a lingering, suspicious look, but finally she nodded. “Fine.”

Mai smiled gratefully, set up her phone to record, and then sat back again. “Was there anything you wanted to ask me? Percy said that you wanted to familiarize yourself with me before you came to St. Joan’s.”

Annabeth nodded stiffly.

“My experience with therapists hasn’t been great so far,” she said bluntly. “When I come to get help, I want to get help, not jump through hoops trying to find a therapist that’ll listen to me.”

“Noted,” Mai said without hesitation. “What were your concerns?”

“What are your qualifications as a therapist?” Annabeth asked.

For the next half hour, Annabeth grilled Mai about her training and background. They talked about Mai’s studies in health psychology, and health psychology as it differed from the degrees some of the other therapists had earned. (Percy learned that Eddie had a degree in developmental psychology, and that Raine’s was in family psychology.) They talked about why Mai had gone into counseling and how she’d met Letitia. Mai refused to answer questions about her previous patients, but did tell Annabeth that she’d had three clearsighted patients, no demigods.

Both of them seemed to have it well in hand, so Percy concentrated on the maze ball, tilting it back and forth with a focused scowl. He figured he was there more for moral support than anything, so keeping half an ear on them was enough.

“You seem familiar with this institution,” Mai noted after a while, leaning on her desk. “May I ask how?”

Annabeth waved it off dismissively. “Percy and I have been together since before his last stay here,” she said. “Most of what I know is from talking to him.”

Mai hummed. “Can you tell me about your family?”

“This isn’t about my family,” Annabeth snapped. “That’s the part I’m handling here.”

“Of course,” Mai reassured her. “I understand that your priorities lean more to your own care at the moment. Knowing a little about your family is more to understand your perspective rather than focusing on those issues.”

Annabeth exhaled irritably, but capitulated. “I have a father, a stepmother, and two half-brothers,” she said, voice clipped. “My mother and I aren’t on speaking terms, but I’ve been living mainly in the Athena cabin since I was seven. Lots of half-siblings on that side, obviously.”

“And you’re having some difficulties with your father?” Mai prompted.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Annabeth gritted out, crossing her arms. “I have spent six. Goddamn. Weeks. Talking about Dad and how Dad feels. I want to talk about my nightmares and the fact that I can’t make myself feel safe enough to read a book.”

“I understand,” Mai said calmly. “Can you tell me more about that?”

Annabeth huffed and slumped back against her headboard. She looked exhausted. Percy wanted to tell her to forget her dad for a little bit and just come here already. She looked at Percy, and Percy gave her as reassuring a look as she could.

“Like I said, nightmares,” Annabeth said at last, quieter. “I can’t concentrate, I can’t sleep. I’m irritable all the time. I’m crying at little things. I keep patrolling my house like I’m at camp. I can’t...” She reached up and rubbed her face. “Well, did Percy tell you what happened?”

“No,” Mai murmured.

“We fell into Tartarus a couple months ago,” Annabeth said. “Neither of us have been the same since, obviously.”

Mai nodded. “So you’re seeking trauma therapy specifically,” she clarified.

Annabeth blinked, and then slumped back again, pressing her palms against her eyes. “Damn it,” she muttered. “I should have said that from the start.”

“It’s alright,” Mai said. “It sounds like it’s disrupting your life quite a bit. Are you planning to come out here soon?”

“I’d like to,” Annabeth said bitterly. “But I’m still trying to work things out with Dad, and I have no idea how long that’s going to take. I just...” She tangled her fingers in her hair and tugged. “I needed to know this would be ready when I was.”

“We don’t have to wait,” Mai said. “I believe Raine and Percy were doing weekly sessions until he was ready to come to St. Joan’s, yes? We could conduct sessions like this-” She waved at the Iris message. “-until you’re ready to come as well.”

Annabeth looked startled, then borderline longing before she brushed it off. “If we can do it like this, what’s the point of me coming at all?”

“We could do it all like this if you’re more comfortable,” Mai said. “But I made the offer for the same reason that Raine did. It’s more important that you receive immediate care than that you launch directly into full-time rehabilitation. That doesn’t mean you don’t need intensive care.”

Annabeth hesitated, then sighed.

“Can we do Saturdays?” she asked, almost meekly. “Maybe in the morning?”

Percy smiled down at the maze ball.

With all of the experimental stuff they’d been doing, it was comforting to do a normal trauma session again. Percy set the cardstock sketch on Raine’s desk and straddled his chair, then leaned down to pick up Fang and hugged him against his chest.

“I don’t want to talk about Bob anymore,” he told Raine. “I’m going back to the drowning thing, because, um, I really, really want to handle that.”

“You have full control over what order you choose to recount things in,” Raine promised. “What happened?”

Percy took a deep breath, then hesitated.

“I almost held this one for a dog day,” he warned her, tucking Fang closer against his chest. “I decided not to ‘cause I think I can handle it, and I really want to try and save those days for Tartarus stuff, but this... this sucked.”

“I understand,” Raine murmured. Percy exhaled, setting his cheek on Fang’s snout.

“This was in Rome,” he said at last. “Maybe a couple of hours before Annabeth and I fell into Tartarus. Annabeth had gone off to do the Mark of Athena thing, and the rest of us had split into two groups to look for Nico, who’d gotten caught by giants and was like, dying. Frank, Hazel, and Leo went to look for him underground, and Piper saw a vision in her blade that gave us a hint on where to look aboveground, so me, Jason, and Piper went there.” He tapped his feet idly along the floor, not really looking at anything. “Piper was freaked out, because before this she’d seen a vision of the three of us drowning in a place that looked just like where we were going, but Nico really needed help, like, right away, so we went anyway.”

He squirmed, shifted, and glanced up. Raine gave him a solemn nod, and he dropped his gaze again, Fang now on his other side and supporting his other cheek.

“I went in first,” Percy said quietly. “I mean, I was still freaked about the idea of drowning, but I told myself that I couldn’t drown and I was being ridiculous.” He tightened his grip on Fang. “That was- that was a bad idea. I think I was overcompensating, telling myself that my instincts were tricking me. Normally I know better than to ignore demigod visions.” He exhaled. “The place was old, like, Ancient Rome old, and bone dry. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but I could tell that it used to have water – a lot of water. Didn’t really see anything super threatening, so I came back out and got Jason and Piper, and we went back in.”

“Then what happened?”

“Jason knew what it was,” he said softly. “It was a nymphaeum, a shrine to the nymphs. Nymphs would let themselves be bound there in exchange for worship and respect.” He bent his head, pressing his forehead into the stuffed shark. “But they aren’t supposed to run dry.” Breathe in. “The nymphs showed up while Jason was explaining. They’d been trapped there for centuries, rotting. When we turned around, the stairway we’d come through was gone.”

He shifted around again, bringing Fang up across the chair’s back, and ran his hand over the fabric, back and forth, trying to soothe himself.

“And then?”

“All old deities are the same,” Percy said. For once, it came out more hollow than bitter. “They wanted to tell us how good it was in the old days, how unfair their lives were.” He shook himself. “Gods, sorry, that was mean- I mean, to be fair to them, what happened was... was horrific. They’d been invited to the nymphaeum at the height of Rome. Then Rome fell, and no one thought to release them, so they were trapped in the dry well.”

His breath hitched. He didn’t bother pretending, even to himself, that it was out of sympathy for the nymphs instead of suffocating self-pity. He pulled Fang to his chest again, squishing the toy between himself and the back of the chair.

“Water started pouring out of the alcoves where they were bound,” Percy said. “Not normal water, either. It- it reminded me a little of the Styx, actually. And now the Cocytus too. As soon as the water touched you, you could feel the nymphs’ hatred, their pain. When I dove to look for a, a drain or something- it wasn’t even that I couldn’t breathe in the water. It was like it was sucking the air out of me. And the heat, and the strength, the water in my body. I almost didn’t even make it back up.” He hugged his toy tightly, shivering. “It was rising so fast, and I couldn’t control it either. Going a second round with Charybdis would probably be easier than wrestling with that water was.”

“Then what happened?”

“Piper figured something out,” Percy said without looking up. “She had this magic cornucopia she’d gotten earlier in the quest, and it ran on intent and emotion, I guess. So she had us grab the cornucopia and work together to make it spit water that wasn’t fucking evil, and... we did enough of that to overwhelm the evil stuff and cleanse the nymphs.” He squeezed. “Hagno praised us for our selflessness. I, I don’t know why that makes me so angry.”

“You don’t agree?”

“I...” Percy had to force himself to say it, but it came out alright. “I’ve done selfless things before, okay? Like, a lot of them. This wasn’t one of them. This was me fucking begging not to die. It’s... it’s not the same.” He wiped his eyes roughly. “She said, like, sorry about that and then talked a lot about how much better she felt. I’m so fucking sick of immortals.”

“You and her were on very different wavelengths,” Raine noted.

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, slumping across the chair back. “Anyway, after that we had to go to the gods damned hypogeum next door and face the giants so that Bacchus could eat chips and heckle us.”

“You’re very angry,” Raine pointed out softly.

Percy didn’t know why that was what did it, but it did. He pressed his face against his shark and sobbed, letting the tears pour out and his shoulders shake, the sound barely muffled by the soft fabric. It took at least a couple minutes, and twice he gagged and had to swallow mucus back down. As he was hiccupping and settling down again, he wondered vaguely if this was how the nymphs had felt. If he could have cleansed them faster by thinking about tears instead of the sea.

“This was such a bad quest,” he said at last, when he’d calmed down enough to use his voice again. He wiped his eyes. “It was like, the quest version of getting run over by an entire luggage train or something. I, I never want to do anything like it again.”

“I know,” Raine murmured. “I know.”

That earned a couple more hiccups and embarrassing whimpers, which he tried to muffle into the toy.

“Are you ready to keep going?” Raine asked gently, when he’d quieted down again. He nodded without looking up. “Okay. Would you like to start with somatic experiencing or processing?”

“Somatic experiencing is the body thing, right?” Percy asked, his voice coming out raspy. Raine nodded. “Okay. Let’s try that first.”

“Can you sit up and put your hands on your lap?” Raine requested, then glanced down. Her lips twitched. “Maybe turn your chair around.”

Despite himself, Percy let out a ragged laugh and stood up to rearrange himself. He dropped Fang on the floor, sat in the chair like he was supposed to, then changed his mind, picked Fang up, and put him across his lap. Raine didn’t object, so he figured it was fine.

“Close your eyes and focus on your body,” Raine instructed. “Tell me where you can feel your stress impacting you.”

Percy closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. His body wanted to fidget, but that would make this kind of hard, so he contented himself with tapping his feet and playing with the stuffed shark’s tail.

“My shoulders are tight again,” he decided, “and that goes, like, all the way around, because there’s pressure in my chest too. My neck kind of hurts, like, at the spine, but my throat does too. Which, uh, might be from crying.” His cheeks heated up, but Raine didn’t comment. “My head hurts. My stomach kind of aches, and, uh... that’s weird. My hips are kind of tight too.”

“Alright,” Raine murmured. “Focus on your head first. When did your head start to hurt?”

“I think... sometime while I talking about the dive,” Percy said. “While I was looking for a drain or something, I mean, and I had to give up.”

“What were you feeling then?”

“I was scared and overwhelmed,” Percy admitted, glad there was no one else here. “I was freaking out because I didn’t know what to do.”

“You can let go of that fear,” Raine told him. “You did everything you could, and you are no longer there. You are safe. That fear is no longer needed.”

That fear is no longer needed, Percy mouthed to himself, and took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on that. The pain in his neck faded, and a few seconds later, most of the headache did too, leaving only a faint tightness in his temples. “Okay.”

“Focus on your throat. When did that begin to hurt?”

“Um...” He thought back. “When I was talking about afterward, with the nymph talking to us. I was upset and bitter about how she was acting.”

“Let go of that resentment,” Raine instructed, soft and focused. “She has no power over you. She cannot hurt you now, and you do not need to think about her anymore. Your resentment has run its course.”

Percy took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly let it out. To his surprise, the ache in his throat all but vanished, like night to day. “Okay.”

“Focus on your shoulders. When did they become tense?”

“While I was exploring the nymphaeum on my own,” Percy said. “Trying to figure out what was there and stuff. I was, uh, I was tense because I was expecting something to go wrong.”

“That responsibility is no longer yours,” Raine told him. “You’ve done everything you could, and you are far away from there. You have no obligations to face that danger anymore.”

Percy took a deep breath and let it out. After a couple of tries, he rolled his shoulders, scowling faintly, but they didn’t loosen up.

“Stretch a little,” Raine said. “Put one hand on the back of your chair and twist left, then repeat it on your right.” Percy did, slow and careful. “Now lean down, so your chest is as close to your knees as you can get it and you’re touching the floor.” Percy took a breath and leaned down, sighing at the stretch of his back. “Sit up. Is that better?”

“Yeah,” Percy murmured, relaxing. “Thanks.”

“Where can you still feel tension?” Raine asked.

Percy focused. “Uh, my stomach and my hips.” The weight on his chest had disappeared once he’d managed to relax his shoulders.

“When did your stomach begin to hurt?”

“After my head did,” Percy decided. “I think... a little before Piper figured out what to do.”

“How were you feeling then?”

“I was terrified,” he said honestly. “Too scared to think.”

“You’re safe now,” Raine said. “You are no longer trapped, and you are not in danger. You do not need to be afraid, and you can let go of the memory of that fear.”

Breathe in, hold, breathe out. His stomach unknotted. “Okay.”

“When did your hips become tense?”

He frowned, running through the memory. “After everything, when we were getting ready to move on to the hypogeum and face the giants.”

“How were you feeling then?”

“Frustrated and anxious,” he said. “I wanted to leave, go and rest somewhere, but I knew I couldn’t. We had to save Nico and stuff.”

“You are in control of your life again,” Raine said. “You are not bound to the will of others, and you are able to fulfil your needs again. You can forget the bonds that held you then.”

Percy took a breath, trying to relax, and when that didn’t work, wiggled in place, grimacing. He shook his head.

“Alright. Sit on the ground in a butterfly pose, then lean forward like you did earlier.” Relieved, Percy dropped to the ground and did that, letting out a pleased breath at the stretch. “Now sit up, stretch one leg out, and hold the other against you. Then reach for your toes.” Percy moved, reached out, and sighed again. “Now the other way. Better?”

“Better,” Percy sighed, then stretched out with a yawn. “A lot better, thanks.”

He opened his eyes to see Raine giving him a pleased smile. She gestured for him to return to his chair, and he did, feeling more relaxed now. He still brought Fang up with him and turned the chair to straddle it.

“How did you feel going into the nymphaeum?” Raine asked.

“Nervous,” he said without hesitation. “Piper’s visions have been a little hit-or-miss as far as details go, but they always point us in the right direction. There wasn’t anything obviously awful when I poked around, so I was mostly just confused about why there was a magic light show in there.”

“And when the nymphs appeared?”

“...Horrified,” Percy said, quieter. “I wasn’t scared at first, you know? They looked like mummies or something, all shriveled up and bound in place. They were suffering. I knew that as soon as I saw them, and I...” He closed his eyes. “I wanted to help, at that point.”

“How did you feel while they were telling you their story?”

“Anxious,” Percy sighed, propping his elbow on the chair to put his cheek on his palm. “I’ve met enough immortals by now to know that when they start talking about how they’ve been wronged, that’s when they’re about to take it out on you.”

Raine quietly made a note. “What about when the water started to pour in?”

“That’s when I started to get scared,” Percy said, stroking Fang with his thumb. “But I kept telling myself that it was still water, and I could handle it. I’ve lifted the Lethe out of its bed; I didn’t think evil nymph water would be too different.” He rubbed back and forth. “Then I tried to dive, and it was like, zero to sixty instant terror. I pretty much shut down at that point. Didn’t do much else until Piper had her idea.”

He stopped himself from vocalizing the self-loathing that came with that, but it must have shown on his face, or maybe Raine just knew him too well.

“How long was this after Alaska?” she asked.

“...A little over a week,” he admitted.

“You understand how little time that is, don’t you?” Percy didn’t answer. “That’s not even long enough to be considered properly post-traumatic; it’s well within the timeframe in which a healthy trauma response would still provoke fear. You have no reason to be ashamed of how you felt that day.”

“I should be braver than that,” Percy said without looking at her.

“You were very brave, Percy,” Raine said, with seemingly complete earnestness. “You faced your fear as many times as it took until you were sure you couldn’t help.”

Percy relaxed a little, but wasn’t completely comforted. “I offered to try and make them a new water source,” he said suddenly. “I think I probably could have done it. There were lots of old seashells, and that’s all I’ve needed before. But they were too angry. They... they said they were going to take an endless supply of water from me. From my power, I guess.”

“That must have been very frightening.”

“...Yeah.” Saying it out loud made Percy feel a little better. He hiked Fang closer again. “Their water felt like static. Everywhere it touched, I got pins and needles, like my body was falling asleep. I’ve never felt anything like it. Afterward, I- I just wanted to go lay down in the sun somewhere and be dry. I’ve never wanted to be dry like that.”

“Of course,” Raine murmured. “You were traumatized and overwhelmed.” Percy nodded silently. “How did you feel when Piper made her suggestion?”

“I was kind of operating on autopilot at that point,” Percy said. He kicked the ground a couple times, sullen and tired. “I mean- I was so terrified that it was crowding out everything else. It was the only idea we had, so we went for it.” He set his head down again. “I was a pretty strong swimmer even before I knew who my father was, but this water... I’ve never struggled to keep my head above water before.”

“But you succeeded.”

Percy nodded. “It was terrifying, because adding the pure stuff made the water rise twice as fast, but we managed it. We were submerged for a bit, though, and- and Jason almost didn’t make it. I had to pull the water out of his lungs for him to wake up. I’d never tried something like that before.”

“How did you feel then?”

Percy shrugged. “I was pretty pleased with myself at first. Don’t know why, after how garbage I’d been for the rest of it.” He covered his face. “Damn it!” He took a breath. “Um, Jason reminded me that Piper had done the bulk of the work saving us, so I shut up pretty quickly.”

“You resuscitated Jason and he told you that Piper did the work?” Raine clarified, looking faintly puzzled.

“He said it nicer than I did,” Percy assured her. “I probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it if I hadn’t been so ridic-” He just sighed this time, pressing his forehead against Fang for a moment before he corrected himself. “If I hadn’t been feeling so insecure at the time.”

“But it did hurt your feelings.”

“It’s okay,” Percy said. “He was right, Piper was the one who saved us. And she deserved to hear it.” It came out more hollow than he’d intended.

“It’s very good that you’re able to give credit where credit is due,” Raine said gently. “It shows a commendable degree of awareness and humility. But just because it’s true doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt your feelings, and you’re not obligated to pretend it didn’t, especially not here.”

“It was a...” Percy almost bit down on his tongue, frustrated with his blatant backslide into insulting himself, and had to take a deep breath before he continued. “I don’t understand why I said anything at all. I don’t usually brag about my powers like that.”

“Why do you think you said it?”

Percy slouched against the chair back, feeling miserable. “Because I was feeling insecure,” he repeated quietly. “I hadn’t been- I didn’t feel like I’d been doing well on this quest or the one in Alaska, a-and I felt like I’d finally done something helpful and... and cool.” Color dusted across his cheeks, but if Raine thought it was silly, she didn’t say so. “I mean, at this point I’d already pulled Annabeth aside to tell her my shoulder devil was acting up, and we hadn’t even fallen into Tartarus yet.”

“You don’t need to fall into hell for your pain to be real,” Raine said, making Percy let out a cracked laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah...”

“You said you felt angry while the nymph was thanking you,” Raine prompted. Percy nodded tiredly.

“Immortals are all the same,” he said again, with such a hopeless undertone that even he cringed. “She was feeling fucking fantastic, so everything was sunshine and roses now.” He closed his eyes and pushed his forehead against Fang again. “What did it matter that she’d scared the shit out of us? We’re just demigods. No one fucking cares about demigods.” He huffed. What a stupid thing to say in a facility set up for demigods. “Never mind, I know that’s not true. But...”

“You’re frustrated and upset,” Raine agreed softly, writing something down. “You and your camp have seen a lot of neglect and abuse over the years."

Percy nodded, relieved that she understood.

“It’s like they don’t even see us,” he said. “Like we’re not real to them. It doesn’t matter that they’re kicking us around like they’re playing soccer. They just want to talk about themselves, and how they’re feeling.” He muttered a curse under his breath. “Sorry, I- I’ve been all woe-is-me lately, haven’t I? I’m sure you’re sick of hearing it.”

“You’re in a lot of pain,” Raine said simply. “I’m glad that you feel able to express that to me.”

Percy relaxed a little.

“I’m trying to avoid putting Calypso in that category,” he said suddenly, sitting up again to fidget with Fang’s fins. “She was really nice to me when we met, and super understanding when I left. There’s nothing wrong with her getting fed up with her lot for a bit. But...” He trailed off, but Raine waited expectantly, and he finished softly, “Why do they always have to give the short straw to me?”

“Because you’re always present when you get the short straw,” Raine reminded him. “Now, this assignment may make you uncomfortable, but I want you to give it a try.” Percy furrowed his brow. “I want you to sit down and think of all the times that immortals have helped you.”

Percy’s hand clenched and unclenched. “Not enough.”

“Not enough,” Raine agreed softly. “But I know that there have been some. They’re difficult for you to remember right now, because you’re hurt and angry. But if you try and remember times when they have genuinely helped you, it will make it easier for you to let go of your resentment.”

“I don’t want to let go of my resentment,” Percy said.

“I know,” she acknowledged. “They’ve done a lot to hurt you in the last year, and I’m not asking you to forget that or even forgive them. The important thing is to change your perspective. Some people will hurt you, and experience will tell you which ones not to trust. But some people will not hurt you, and I want you to remember that. If you are always expecting to get hurt, you will spend your life waiting for it, and you'll miss a lot of good things."

Percy exhaled. It made sense. He didn’t like it, but it made sense. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Percy tossed a picture onto Raine’s desk.

“Kym,” he explained, dropping resignedly into his chair. “Goddess of violent sea storms. She attacked our boat on Gaea’s orders, but Jason managed to talk her into backing down in exchange for a temple at Camp Half-Blood and New Rome.” He tapped the chair back restlessly. “Uh, I don’t remember most of this fight. I was kind of... not paying attention. Do I just say what I do remember?”

“Whatever comes naturally,” Raine told him. “What you learned later is an important part of your reaction to this event, but you shouldn’t feel obligated to explain it as if you were fully aware.”

Percy nodded, tapping faster as his restlessness grew. But he didn’t want to go outside. After a minute, he grabbed a fidget spinner to play with and watched the lights gleam off it.

“It was my turn on watch,” he said at last, “and a violent storm started up out of nowhere. Like, violent. Even with my power over boats and the sea, I could barely keep the ship from capsizing.” He flicked the spinner a few times. “I could tell there was something under the water causing it, but with the bullshit we’d been dealing with, I didn’t want to go in without backup. Jason said he could take an air supply down with him, so he went in with me.”

“What did you find?” Raine asked.

“Kym,” Percy said. “I mean- that’s not her full name, it’s like, Kym Possible or something, but ‘Kym’ was really all I caught. She introduced herself as my sister, said she wanted to meet me before I died.” Spin, spin. “Now that I think about it, we actually talked for a pretty long time before we started fighting. We tried asking her nicely if she’d stop attacking the ship, but she was more interested in complaining about how unfairly she’d been treated and how little worship she got. And finally she revealed that Polybotes – you remember, the anti-Poseidon? – had come to kill me.”

“Then what happened?”

“Polybotes set some basilisks on us,” Percy said. “Me, mostly, since Jason was still inside his ventus, so he was kind of hard to get to. Jason started trying to reason with Kym, and then zapped the basilisks – I think he was worried he’d hurt me, and that’s why he didn’t do it sooner.” He shrugged. “Anyway, then I charged Polybotes, and he conjured a wall of poison. I dove into it, and that was it for me. I was out for the rest of the fight.” Spin, spin. “And that was pretty much it, really. Jason talked our way out of it while I flopped around like a landed fish. He convinced Kym to help him kill Polybotes in exchange for a temple and an action figure and stuff, and Kym pulled the poison out of my lungs as a bonus or something. When we got back to the boat, the storm was basically over.”

Raine nodded. “How did you feel when the storm started?”

“Not that bad,” Percy said. “At first I didn’t even realize it was unnatural, and I’m pretty sure I’d’ve been able to handle any natural storm just fine, even a hurricane or something. I’m not thirteen anymore.” He scuffed the ground. “I started to get worried when it picked up, and I realized it was taking all my concentration to keep us from capsizing. I figured something had to be controlling it, so I kinda sussed out the water below – which is, you know, a thing I can do – and realized there was something pretty powerful on the sea floor.”

Curiosity and fascination were glinting in Raine’s eyes again, making Percy feel flustered, but she moved on before he could address it. “But you decided not to go in alone."

Percy nodded. “Like I said, whatever it was felt pretty powerful – I mean, it turned out to be a minor goddess – and I was already a little shaken from the things we’d been running into in the Mediterranean. I was thinking about asking Frank, but Jason offered first.”

Raine made a ‘cut’ gesture with her pen. “You were shaken?” she asked. “Can you tell me about that?”

Percy winced. “I mean, I felt like shit,” he said, a little softer than he’d meant to. “This was pretty late in the quest. At this point, I’d been possessed, I’d been ambushed by an old sea god, disarmed by Chrysaor, half-drowned by corrupted naiads, dragged through Tartarus, beaten up by Nike... Any confidence I’d ever had in my strength was completely gone. I figured if I went into that water alone, I was done for.” He smiled bitterly. “And look what happened.”

Raine nodded solemnly. “So you went into the water with Jason.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I noticed right away that it looked kinda familiar – it turned out to be Dad’s old palace, the first one. Uh, his new one’s in the Atlantic.” He made a dismissive, impatient gesture. “Anyway, Kym was waiting there for us, and she didn’t attack right away, so we tried talking to her first.”

“What did you think of her?”

“She looked like a jellyfish monster girl from one of those weird harem comics,” Percy said bluntly, making Raine laugh in surprise. He smiled briefly, shrugging. “I mean, she was intimidating, don’t get me wrong, but that was the first thing I thought of. I was lucky it didn’t come out of my mouth. Not sure Jason could’ve talked us out of that one.”

Raine shook her head, looking fond. “What did you think of her otherwise?”

Percy’s smile disappeared into a scowl. “Just another minor goddess. Most gods only want one thing – worship. And if they don’t get it, they throw fits like toddlers.” He kicked the floor. “Kym was of that variety.”

“You didn’t like her,” Raine said. Percy considered.

“She wasn’t awful,” he admitted after a moment, grudging. “I’d probably try to be halfway civil if we ran into each other again, which is more than I can say for a lot of gods. But I was getting real sick of self-centered gods by that point – you don’t know rage until you hear a god complain about how annoying heroes are, always wanting help. I just didn’t have the patience.”

Raine made a note. “How did you feel when she revealed Polybotes?”

“I think I was too fed up to be surprised,” Percy said. “It was already pretty clear by that point that Gaea had gotten to her, and I knew Polybotes was hunting me. I wasn’t expecting it, but like, two plus two makes one trap for helpless demigods.”

“Were you angry?”

Percy considered, then shook his head. “I just didn’t have it in me,” he confessed. “It was like, everything else bad has happened, so why not this too? I wanted it to be over and dealt with, was all.”

Raine’s brow creased briefly, but the expression was gone just as fast. “And then the basilisks attacked.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “I’ve dealt with basilisks before – they’re pretty nasty, but I was confident I could handle them in the water.” He flipped the spinner in his hands, running his fingers along the curved edge. “Jason, uh, wasn’t as confident.” Percy smiled a little, fond and amused. “So he zapped them out of the picture, which I definitely didn’t have any complaints about. I appreciated it, honestly, him watching my back like that.” He tapped the spinner against his palm, then flipped it decisively and started to whirl it again. “Then Polybotes got mad, and I decided to attack him before he attacked Jason.”

“You said you accidentally dove into his poison?” Raine prompted softly.

“...I didn’t say accidentally,” Percy said. Surprise flickered across Raine’s face, and Percy glanced away, slouching against the chair back in discomfort. “It was... it was the weirdest thing, actually. I saw him conjure the poison, and I had more than enough time to react. But, uh – in Tartarus, I was able to control poison, and I figured I could do it again.” Percy twitched his fingers, dropping the spinner into his palm and stopping the motion. “I haven’t told you that story. But I, um, I did something bad, and I was thinking about it when this happened.”

He looked down, and cradled the fidget spinner between his hands. He didn’t want to look up, and he felt acutely the sensation of an enormous weight pressing down on his slumped shoulders.

“I thought the poison would probably be like that, if I went into it,” Percy said without looking at Raine. “And it seemed right, you know? Like the Fates were punishing me for doing something so sadistic. So, um, I just didn’t move it.” Raine didn’t reply immediately. “I know it sounds weird. I don’t really get it either. It... it seemed like a good idea, at the time. Like my story was meant to end there, and I was okay with that.”

He felt oddly fragile, like his insides were made of sugar glass. When he looked up, Raine had completely closed her expression off, so he couldn’t read it.

“You thought the poison would kill you, so you dove into it?” Raine clarified.

Percy shrugged. “Greek tragedies are poetic like that. A hero does something awful and dies the same way. Happens all the time.”

“Percy,” Raine said gently. “That is a suicide attempt.”

At first, Percy didn’t really understand. He blinked at her dumbly, mouth opening and then closing. “What? No. It’s not like I went into the ocean planning to die or anything. It just kind of happened like that.”

“It was an opportunistic one,” Raine acknowledged, “but you made that choice because you thought it would kill you – not to win the fight, and not to save your friend. That is the definition of a suicide attempt.”

Percy stared at her, speechless.

“Oh,” he said at last, lamely. “Um, I really shouldn’t have done that in the middle of a quest.”

He wanted to hit himself as soon as the words came out of his mouth. What a stupid thing to say.

“Sorry,” he tacked on, like that fixed anything. “I- sorry.”

He looked at the shelf where Fang sat. Raine got up and handed it to him, then sat back down. He hugged the plush toy hard and hid his face in it. He might have been shaking.

Raine waited until he’d looked halfway up again before she spoke.

“How do you feel, realizing that?”

It took a minute for Percy to pull himself together enough to reply. “U-um, I- I don’t know. I’m... confused? I, I didn’t know you could try to kill yourself by accident.”

“Was it by accident?” Raine pressed softly.

Percy shrugged uncomfortably. “I dunno. I meant to die. But I didn’t mean to commit suicide.” Heat blazed across his cheeks. “That sounds stupid. But I- I dunno. I didn’t make the connection.”

Raine nodded. “You didn’t intend for the action to have such gravity,” she agreed.

“...Yeah.” He hugged Fang.

“Do you want to come back to this question later?” Raine asked gently. Percy shook his head.

“No, I... no.” He hesitated. “I feel ashamed of myself, I guess. It was really selfish, trying to back out of a quest in the middle like that. My friends still needed me.” He squeezed. “And I know that shouldn’t be my priority, and I should probably be worried about the fact that I tried to fucking kill myself, but I can’t make myself think about anything except how stupid it was.”

“Shame isn’t an uncommon reaction to a failed suicide attempt,” Raine said. “And you’re especially prone to shame in general.” She paused, and then prompted, “Can you tell me what your compassionate voice says?”

Percy blinked, and then actually looked up to meet her eyes.

He thought about it.

“...It says,” he said quietly, “that I went through a lot on that quest, and it hadn’t been long since I’d gotten out of Tartarus. And... and since I was struggling a lot with suicidal ideation even before this quest, it’s not really my fault that everything that happened pushed me over the edge.”

“Now how do you feel?”

“Better,” he admitted softly. “Still guilty, but not as bad.” He dropped the spinner and picked at his sleeve. “I didn’t realize I’d gotten that bad, I guess. I knew I felt awful during that whole quest, but this is something else.” He was quiet for another minute. “I’m guessing I can’t just pretend this never happened.”

“No,” Raine agreed. “Like with the rest of your trauma, it would be best if you confronted your feelings about this and processed them carefully.”

“Do I need to like... tell someone?”

“The only person you needed to tell about it was me,” Raine said gently. “Anyone else is up to you.” Pause. “Take some time to think about it. I understand if you need time to process this on your own. If you’d like, we can finish this story-” She tapped the picture of the rocking Argo. “-and come back to that later.”

“Yeah.” Percy felt out of breath. “Sure, yeah. Let’s do that.”

“You dove through the poison,” Raine prompted.

Percy shook himself, trying to focus. “Yeah. Yeah.” He blinked, and then nodded to himself, focusing on Raine. “That- yeah. Instant regret, honestly, because it felt like I’d stuck my head in the Phlegethon and taken a deep breath. Burning poison all up in my nose and throat. So I spent the rest of the fight suffocating and flopping around, because I wasn’t terrified enough of drowning already.”

“You were scared?” Raine asked.

“I dunno if scared is the word,” Percy said, trying unsuccessfully to tear his mind away from the previous conversation. “But no amount of suicidal intent can make suffocating fun, you know? It sucked.” He scuffed the floor. “Didn’t occur to me that Jason would be able to get us out of it, to be honest.”

“But he did.”

Percy nodded. “I only caught little bits of the conversation, but yeah. He promised Kym worship, and that was it. She turned on Polybotes.” He turned the fidget spinner over in his hands again. “I didn’t think a lot of it at the time, I guess. Just seemed like another fight we’d gotten through by the skin of our teeth.” Tap, tap, spin. “I... did tell Jason what I’d been thinking. He didn’t seem to think anything of it, but he freaked out later, when Thalia told him I’d been suicidal before.”

“Jason is fifteen, correct?” Raine asked. Percy nodded. “I’m not surprised. You and your friends are extremely mature for your age, but you’re still children. I expect he just didn’t recognize the implications of what you said to him.”

“Well, I didn’t even notice, so I can’t exactly blame him,” Percy said dryly. He turned the toy over. “Anyway, that- that was it. I, I wanted to talk again about how gods keep blaming us for their bad luck, but I, uh, don’t think I have the attention span for that anymore.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Raine reassured him softly. “If you’d like, we can go outside and discuss what this changes.”

“Okay,” Percy mumbled.

He took Fang with him on the way out, and followed Raine down the hall in a daze. He didn’t understand why this was rattling him so badly, but it had; it was like something important had changed while he wasn’t looking, like a glitch in the Matrix.

"Most of the steps we would normally take are already being done," Raine reassured him, once they were outside. “You’re in a residential care facility, receiving the help that you badly need. You have a safety plan, and a support network that’s aware of your struggles with mental health. Those are always the first steps to take after a suicide attempt.”

Percy’s shoulders loosened a little. “But something will change.”

Raine nodded. “We’ll need to spend some time focusing on what happened and what triggered the attempt. The most important thing is to determine how to avoid a second one.” She glanced at him. “As soon as you feel ready, I’d like to discuss the event you mentioned – the one you were thinking about underwater.”

Percy tensed, even though he’d known this was coming. “I don’t really want to,” he mumbled. “It scared Annabeth more than me.”

“It was clearly significant to you in other ways,” Raine said gently. “I won’t push you, but it’s important that we address that event so that you can heal from it.”

“Heal from what?” Percy muttered. “I did it.”

“Many people are frightened by what they’re capable of when desperate,” Raine told him. “And combat veterans are often as traumatized by what they did to others as by what was done to them.”

“’M not a combat veteran.”

“You don’t need to be a combat veteran to be traumatized by your battles.”

Percy didn’t reply, but he did squeeze Fang against his chest, feeling uncomfortable and anxious. “David’s bringing Cacao back tomorrow, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Okay,” Percy sighed. “I guess we can talk about stuff then.”

Chapter Text

Uncharacteristically, Nico followed Percy when he went to walk in the woods after lights out, when the moon was high in the sky and most of the others were asleep.

“Did something happen?” Nico asked, his voice just flat enough to give away his worry. “You’ve been acting off today.”

Percy winced. “It’s okay,” he reassured Nico hastily. “Just... Raine pointed out some things in therapy this morning, and it’s tough to process. I’ll be fine once I’ve had some time to think.”

Nico grunted. “I saw you carrying a stuffed animal around outside.”

“Yeah, that’s Fang,” Percy agreed. “He’s been my best friend during tough conversations.” Nico tilted his head to look at him. Percy fidgeted with his necklace. “I was pretty upset.”

Nico returned his gaze to the front, and was quiet until they were nearly halfway down the path into the woods. Despite the silence, it was surprisingly comfortable. Crickets and frogs filled in the quiet.

“It’s been a week now,” Percy said, when they’d turned around to head back. “What do you think of Eddie? I haven’t talked to him outside the garden stuff.”

Nico was silent for so long that Percy thought at first that he wasn’t going to answer. When he did, Percy was almost more surprised than if Nico had brushed him off entirely.

“I like him,” Nico said, seeming surprised by his own answer. “He’s... nice.”

“I think that’s the most positive I’ve ever heard you be about someone,” Percy said. Nico scowled at him. “I mean it! I’m really glad he made such a good impression on you. Letitia says the most important part of good therapy is finding a therapist you get along with.”

“Hm.” Nico looked away again, looking faintly embarrassed. “He’s been letting me set the pace for most things. There’s a corner where I can take a break if I want.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “We’ve been, like... building skills or something. Recognizing feelings, mostly.”

“In yourself or other people?” Percy asked.

“Little bit of both,” Nico shrugged. “That and self-soothing skills. Says I should have a good grasp of both before we start trauma counseling.”

“Self-soothing skills are great,” Percy agreed. “On a good night I can even get back to sleep after a while.” Nico looked skeptical, glancing pointedly at the starry sky. “Yeah, tonight’s not a good night.”

“But you like them,” Nico prompted.

Percy nodded. “The first couple appointments after I got home were like, nothing but self-soothing skills. Being able to get through the night without thinking about hurting myself, that was huge. That changed the game.”

“I didn’t know you did that too,” Nico said, looking guarded again. Percy stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged self-consciously.

“Hey, when you can’t figure out how to make it stop hurting, you get desperate,” he said, as lightly as he could. He tried not to imagine Nico having those same thoughts; it made him sick. “Existential despair gets pretty intense.”

Nico snorted, and for a moment his eyes glittered with mirth. “So... this stuff he keeps spouting off actually works?”

“Yeah, it does,” Percy said, letting his voice turn a little gentler. “I mean- it’s not instant or anything. But you do feel better. It’s... it’s actually really nice, to try and treat yourself gentle ‘cause you feel like shit. Can you imagine? If every time you had a nightmare, you went to eat ice cream instead of lying around hating yourself?”

A shadow passed over Nico’s eyes, and he looked away.

“Eddie asked me what makes me feel good,” he said. “I don’t know what to tell him, ‘cause I don’t fucking know.”

“You want to brainstorm?” Percy asked. “You might not have a list in your head, but I bet some of ‘em will ring a bell if they come up.”

Nico pushed his hands into his pockets. “He asked me to make a collage or something. Said Lucas has stickers.”

“Yeah, I think I know where those are kept,” Percy said. “You want to go to the art house?”

“Sure.”

It took Percy three tries to find the bin of sticker sheets. Most of them were half used up, but he still found some good ones – sticker sheets of stick figures doing activities, sheets of brightly colored food, sheets of encouraging words and household items and scenery. Lots of duplicates, one or two empty sheets – Percy guessed this was a regular activity.

“Um,” Nico said, looking like he thought the stickers might bite him. Percy took pity on him.

“I’ll make one too,” he said. “We can put them on cardstock. What color do you want?”

“Brown,” Nico said.

Percy stood back up, dug some cardstock out of one of the bins, and returned to Nico, plopping on his belly to kick at the air. He passed the brown sheet to Nico and, without looking at him, picked out his first few stickers: a beach, a hamburger, the skyline of New York City.

Nico watched him for a while. When Percy had half a dozen stickers down, he started too, slow and hesitant. The first was a hamburger, taken off a duplicate sheet. Then a soda cup. Then a dog.

“Almost all of these are food,” Nico said after a while. “I can’t just eat every time I feel like garbage.”

“You’ve been to a ton of cool places,” Percy reminded him. “You didn’t like any of those?”

“I definitely can’t shadow travel every time I feel bad.”

“You don’t have to,” Percy assured him, bumping their shoes together. “You just need stuff that reminds you of those places. I have some sea-scented lotion I’ve been using when I’m anxious.”

“Lotion?”

“If it means I can smell the ocean every time I’m upset, I’ll even use perfume.”

Nico snorted, and then added a forest clearing, coffee, and a graveyard to his paper.

They worked together in the semidarkness for a while, building up their collages. Not wanting to draw too much attention, Percy had left the lights off, but he was regretting that now; while his eyes had adjusted well, the darkness still felt like it was creeping toward him, pressing closer every time he looked away. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m going inside,” he said to Nico, soft and strained. “Need to get out of the dark.”

Understanding flashed across Nico’s eyes, and he sat up and nodded. “I should too.”

“You don’t have to.”

Nico showed him the sheet, now generously decorated with various pictures. “Think I have enough to work with now.”

Percy managed a smile, and the two of them gathered up the sticker sheets and returned them to the bin before the headed out. Percy jittered, his hand clenched around Riptide while he strained his ears for any strange sounds. A train whistle made him jump a mile, his heart pounding. He cursed under his breath.

“What do you do to self-soothe?” Nico asked. Percy gave him a startled glance, and Nico shrugged. “I still need ideas.”

“I, um.” Percy cleared his throat, trying to focus. “I mentioned the lotion, and I’ve got an MP3 with a bunch of my mom’s favorite songs on it.”

“Not yours?”

“Some of mine,” Percy conceded. He relaxed a little as they passed through the door inside. “But Mom’s favorite songs are like, comforting, so I have a playlist just of those and I listen to it sometimes when I want to space out for a while.”

“I don’t know my mom’s favorite songs.”

“You can listen to your favorites,” Percy said. “Nothing wrong with that. Mom’s just make me feel safer.” He quieted down as they passed through the dorm area, heading for the playroom, and was only a little surprised when Nico came along. “Not going to sleep?”

“No,” Nico said. He didn’t elaborate. “Can I hear that playlist?”

“Sure,” Percy said, surprised but pleased. “It’ll be fun.”

They shared the headphones, sitting close to each other and holding the headset between them with the earpieces turned outwards. Nico looked focused, staring straight ahead while he held the earpiece against his head, and Percy bobbed his head contently, eyes closed.

Both of them startled when the door opened. Lucy looked surprised too.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m usually the first one up.”

Percy looked at the clock. Just after midnight. “Damn. Yeah, Nico and I have been here for a bit.”

“What are you listening to?” Lucy asked, sitting down a few feet away. “Can you play it on the speaker?”

Percy looked at Nico, and Nico shrugged, so Percy unplugged the headphones and went to pick up the speaker. “Kimya Dawson, Regina Spektor, Beth Hart,” he explained. “Some Mumford & Sons, some Hozier.” Lucy cocked her head, and Percy elaborated, “My mom’s favorites. Nico and I were talking about self-soothing and he wanted to hear the playlist I use.”

“That’s so sweet,” Lucy said. “You don’t mind me joining, do you?”

“Nah,” Percy said, glancing to Nico for confirmation. Nico shrugged.

“Sure.”

With surprising ease, the three of them fell quiet again, listening to the soft music play from the old speaker. When he started feeling antsy, Percy grabbed a ball off one of the shelves and rolled it over to Nico. Nico rolled it back, and Lucy perked up hopefully. Percy rolled it to her, and she smiled at him, then passed it to Nico.

Someone knocked gingerly on the door before they opened it, and Violetta peeked inside. “I heard music,” she said.

“Sorry, did we wake you up?” Lucy asked anxiously. Violetta shook her head and stepped inside, put her back to a wall, and sat down to listen with them.

A few more songs played. Percy passed the ball to Violetta.

“These are nice,” Violetta said. “Can you show me the playlist later? I want to write down these artists.”

“Sure,” Percy said, granting her a small smile. Violetta started.

“It’s yours?” she asked. “I figured it was Lucy’s.”

Percy chuckled quietly. “It’s mine,” he said. “But I get why you’re surprised. I got most of my comfort songs from my mom.”

“They suit Mrs. Jackson though,” Nico offered unexpectedly. “They sound like stuff she would like.”

“You know, somehow I can kind of picture her just from that,” Lucy said.

Little Lion Man came on, and Percy closed his eyes to listen to it.

“That’s my mom’s song for me,” he said on impulse, when it was over. “I mean- she says it’s always made her think of me.”

“It’s such a sad song, though,” Lucy said.

“Yeah,” Percy admitted. “But- I dunno. I like it.”

Violetta leaned over. “What are those?”

Percy followed her gaze and looked down at the half-forgotten collage sheets. “Just stuff-I-like papers. Nico’s working on self-soothing right now.”

“I made one of those,” Lucy said. “It’s still in Lucas’ office, we refer back to it sometimes.”

Percy made a mental note of the pairing. “What do you do for it? I mean, besides hang out in the playroom and listen to music.”

“It’s a work in progress,” Lucy said ruefully. “I kind of need ideas. What do you do?”

Percy crossed his arms, considering. “I go for a walk to pick up litter a lot,” he said after a moment. “Video games are a pretty good distraction, and, uh, sports. If I don’t think I’ll bother anyone, I’ll go and shoot hoops or something.” He shrugged. “That’s me, though. Violetta?”

“I like art best,” Violetta said. “That’s why I’m always in the art house. It helps me cool off between sessions.” She tapped her knee a few times, thoughtful, and then continued, “Most of the time I draw cartoons. Cheers me up, you know? I’ll draw Danny Phantom or something and then I’m thinking about cartoons instead of real life.” Pause. “Vanessa says it’s okay as long as I’m not doing it when I’m supposed to be processing trauma and stuff.”

“I like cartoons,” Nico said. “Tom and Jerry.”

“An oldie but a goodie,” Violetta agreed. “You’re an old cartoons fan? Bugs Bunny, Mickey Mouse, Popeye?” Nico nodded. “Good taste.”

Someone knocked softly, and the door opened before any of them could answer. Ruya poked her head through, looking concerned.

“This is a lot of people to be awake this late,” she observed.

“Everyone knows teenagers don’t need sleep,” Violetta said. “Come hang out. We’re talking about self-soothing. What do you do for it?”

Ruya blinked, and then came in and sat down. “Hobby stuff,” she said. “Isn’t that the best way to cheer yourself up?” She sighed. “I can’t do anything finicky though. I get frustrated too fast.”

“Finicky?” Lucy asked. “Like the bead bracelets?”

“No, those are good.” Ruya looked bashful. “I- I like magic tricks. They’re fun.”

“Oh, that’s so cool,” Percy said earnestly. “What kind of tricks?”

“I know two magic tricks,” Nico said. “But I’m pretty sure they’re secretly for cheating at poker.” He glanced up. “What kinda tricks?”

Ruya hesitated. “Will you laugh at me if I say I keep a coin in my pocket for this?”

“Are you kidding?” Percy said. “If I could do magic, I’d carry an entire kit around with me.” Violetta hummed in agreement, and Ruya smiled at them.

From her pocket, then, she produced not just a coin, but also a ring, a couple of sharpies, a few cards, and two rubber bands.

“How did you fit all that in a women’s pajama pocket?” Lucy asked. Ruya actually grinned at her, and didn’t answer.

For the next few minutes, Ruya performed for them, eyes glittering with delight. She pulled sharpie after sharpie out of thin air, then changed the color of the card in her hands while everyone watched with wide eyes, and teleported the coin between her hands. She pulled a ring off her finger and threw it back on. (Percy was actually at the right angle to see her hide her beringed index finger behind her middle, but he didn’t mention that.) The show ended when she fumbled as she pretended to link the rubber bands, dropping one of them and making the other sproing off her hand. She deflated with a sigh.

Percy clapped as quietly as he could manage, and the others quickly joined in, lighting Ruya’s face back up. She preened under the attention, looking very pleased with herself.

“That’s some really impressive dexterity,” Lucy said earnestly. Ruya frowned. “Oh, I have no idea how you did any of it, I just kind of know how magic works.”

Ruya relaxed, giggling softly, and the door opened again, this time admitting Mike.

“Uh, I heard noise,” he said awkwardly. “Did I miss something?”

“No, people just keep showing up,” Nico told him. “Who invited any of you people?”

Percy laughed quietly, setting his suddenly heavy head on his folded arms. “This is the hangout space, Nico. I mean, it’s not usually everyone in the middle of the night, but this isn’t the place to go for privacy.”

“This was your idea,” Nico reminded him. Percy grinned.

“Yeah, so you should have known.”

Nico rolled his eyes.

“That’s almost everyone,” Lucy said. “Does someone want to go see if Amethyst is awake? It seems unfair to leave her out.”

“I’ll go check,” Violetta said, getting up just as Mike settled down.

Percy yawned. Lucy started.

“Oh, you can go to bed if you want, Percy,” she said, looking concerned. “I didn’t mean to keep you awake.”

“You didn’t do nothing,” he mumbled, letting his eyes drift shut. “I’m good here.”

He fell asleep as Amethyst’s voice murmured something, and the conversation kept going around him, Beth Hart singing in the background.

“They’re in here!”

“All of them?”

“Yes, all of them!”

“For goodness’ sake, why?”

Percy pushed himself upright, reaching for Riptide. He blinked a couple of times before the shape resolved into Lucas, who looked exasperated but relieved. Lucas shook his head at Percy.

“Have you all been here all night?” he asked. Percy shifted, looked down to add everyone up, then shrugged and nodded. “You gave everyone quite a fright. Breakfast was half an hour ago.”

“Oh, sorry.” Percy stretched out and yawned, wincing as some of the other therapists poked in, checking for themselves that everyone was alright. “Um, me and Nico didn’t want to go to sleep, and then Lucy came in, and...” He shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Um, then we were kind of having a good time and it just became more fun than anything.”

Lucas shook his head again, but he looked fond as the other kids started to stir. “You all still need to eat,” he reminded them, pulling away. “We’ll push things forward a little to give you time to get ready, but try and get back on track, alright?”

Nico blinked blearily. “I haven’t slept like that in months,” he said.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Percy said.

“Is the puppy coming today?” Lucy asked Lucas hopefully. Lucas glanced at Percy, and Percy tried to wince and smile at the same time.

“Yeah, Cacao’s coming today,” he said. “Think we can bribe them to stay again?” The last time they’d come, David had stayed for lunch so that all the other kids could pet Cacao too.

“I don’t see why not,” Violetta yawned. “Anything to pet the fluffiest dog in the world.”

Chapter Text

“Would it be okay if I fed her some scraps?” Percy asked, when he’d let Cacao sniff his hands and lick his fingers until she was content. David raised his eyebrows.

“I was wondering what had her so excited,” he said, amused. “Tell her ‘yum yum’ when you do, she’s trained not to eat people food unless she has permission. Keeps her from stealing it from...” He gestured, indicating the facility and presumably all of the other vulnerable people Cacao cuddled.

Percy laughed in delight, and then fished half a sausage out of the napkin in his pocket. He held it out in his palm. “Yum yum!” Cacao gobbled it up and licked his palm eagerly, and he laughed and looked up again. “Thanks!”

“Of course. Good luck today.”

Percy’s smile faded, and he sat back, resignedly preparing himself for the morning’s session. He patted his lap, and Cacao piled herself into it and settled down. He pet her.

“Ready?” Raine asked, and waited for his nod before she continued. “You’ve had a day to process what you realized yesterday. Can you tell me what you’ve been thinking about?”

Percy grimaced. “I was trying really hard not to,” he said ruefully, thinking of the full sleepover they’d had in the playroom. He softened, threading his fingers through Cacao’s soft fur. “I... it’s kind of weird.” Raine gestured encouragingly. “I’ve mostly been thinking about how upset my parents would’ve been. I mean- they wouldn’t have even had to know it was on purpose. Dying like that, on a quest, after having been missing for months already? It would’ve destroyed them.” He rubbed Cacao’s flank. “I don’t know what’s so different about this time compared to like, every other time I’ve thought about how they would do after I was dead.”

“People often see a shift in perspective after a failed attempt,” Raine said gently. “And your ideation was never truly about making things easier for your mother. If it was, it would have disappeared after your family therapy sessions. It was, it is about escaping the pain you’re in.”

“I guess that’s selfish, huh?” Percy said without looking at her. He focused on Cacao’s fur and squishy folds, soft and warm under his hand. Cacao put her head on his knee and panted, then nosed at his pocket hopefully.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to escape your pain,” Raine said with conviction. “You just needed to be given another way to go about it.” She leaned forward, making sure to catch his eye. “I want to point out: when you returned home, and you had more freedom, you didn’t make another attempt. You asked to return to therapy.”

Percy hadn’t thought of it that way. He relaxed, softening under the reassurance.

“Can you tell me about your mental state in the day or two leading up to it?” Raine asked. “You mentioned to me that you were nervous, and feeling badly about yourself.”

Percy winced, but tilted his head to look up at the ceiling as he thought about it, running his fingers up and down Cacao’s flank.

“I was pretty much like I was when I got home,” he confessed after a moment. “I mean- my self-esteem was like, rock bottom, because of all the fights I’d lost, and... I think because I was having issues with water, too. A son of Poseidon, afraid of water? I felt like shit.” He rested his palm on Cacao, feeling her side rise and fall. “And I was pretty hopeless already. I, I felt alone. I mean- there were seven of us on that boat, obviously, but...” He exhaled. “The gods weren’t helping us. Our friends couldn’t help us. Even Coach Hedge wasn’t really helping us.”

Raine frowned and wrote something down. For once, Percy ignored it. He took a breath, slowly working through the feelings and weight he remembered from those days.

“I was tired,” he continued. “I don’t think I had a moment to breathe that entire quest. Not after Tartarus, not before it, never. Even when we were traveling, I, I had to guard the boat. There were sea serpents, baby krakens, Scylla’s children. I didn’t even know Scylla had children.” He exhaled. “And there was Tartarus.”

“What about Tartarus?” Raine prompted softly.

Percy didn’t answer at first. He pulled out another piece of sausage and said, “Yum yum,” and relaxed as the dog gobbled it up in a few gentle snaps. Finally, he admitted, “I still haven’t told you half of what happened there. I... I don’t want to talk about it yet. But Bob- Bob died getting us out, and I’m sure you can guess how messed up I felt every time I thought about him.” He ran his fingers down the dog’s flank again. “And, well... I was thinking about it yesterday evening, and- and I realized that this happened around when me and Annabeth were realizing that most of her nightmares were of... something I did down there.”

“That memory that you were thinking of at the time,” Raine murmured. Percy nodded.

“I still don’t want to talk about it,” he said, scratching Cacao until she melted against him. “But I think... all that rage in Tartarus, it, it made me into something different. Something not me.” He took a breath. “But it was me, and that’s even scarier. I look back and I don’t feel bad about it. Except for how it affected Annabeth, I- I can’t even say I wouldn’t do it again. That I wouldn’t do worse.”

“You’d gone through an immeasurable amount of trauma,” Raine said softly, “and you hadn’t been given time to process it. It was weighing on you.”

Some of the tension left Percy’s shoulders again. “Yeah,” he murmured. He tweaked Cacao’s tail without thinking. Cacao wagged it drowsily, and he almost smiled. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Can you tell me how you felt about the event in the days following?” Raine asked. “Even without consciously understanding what had happened.”

Percy grimaced, avoiding her gaze by playing with Cacao’s ear. “I was kinda disappointed,” he admitted quietly. He grabbed another sausage piece, murmured ‘yum yum,’ and let Cacao eat it out of his hand. “I... remember I thought about it sometimes, when I had time to myself. I was a little bitter about how much easier it would’ve been if I’d died down there.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn’t wish I’d died, exactly. But it sure sounded better than what I was dealing with.”

“Did you talk to anyone about it?” Raine asked. Percy shook his head.

“I asked Jason not to mention it to anyone,” he said. “Kym made the... fourth, I think, water battle I’d lost on that quest. I was humiliated.”

“Are you considering it now?”

Percy winced, but after a moment of hesitation, he nodded.

“Think I’m gonna try to explain to Mom tonight,” Percy said quietly. “And Annabeth would be pissed if I didn’t tell her.” He rubbed Cacao’s neck, and she boofed contentedly. “I’m doing a lot better than I was, so maybe I’ll ask Grover to repair the empathy link this weekend. That’ll make them both feel better about it.” He wrapped it around his fingers. “I’m not sure what to say though.”

“Would you like me to help you?” Raine asked.

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Percy said. “I mean, I don’t want to scare them or anything, but they deserve to know it happened, I think.” He bit his cheek. That didn’t sound right. “I... want them to know it happened. I, I think. Is that mean? Should I not?”

“It’s up to you,” Raine reminded him softly. “But I don’t think it’s unkind of you to want to confide in your loved ones. Actually, I think it’s a sign of incredible progress.” Percy relaxed. “We’ll work on that soon. If you’re comfortable with it, I’d like to revisit the question of how you’re feeling now. The ideation hasn’t stopped, correct?” Percy shook his head. “Now that you’ve had some time to reflect, can you talk about what seems to be triggering it?”

Percy shifted Cacao’s weight from where it was cutting off circulation, scratched her ears, and smiled when she wagged her tail lazily.

“I mean, we both know that guilt is my biggest trigger,” he said without looking up. “And... I’m kind of getting the idea by now that most of that guilt is like, just how my massive amounts of trauma manifest.” He scritched the dog. “And I think... all that guilt makes me really angry at myself, you know? Knowing it’s a trauma thing doesn’t make it go away. And I guess I don’t really know how to express that other than by hurting myself.”

Percy hesitated, wondering if Raine was going to step in, but she just met his eyes and gave him a small nod, looking attentive and focused.

“I think the other thing is that I always feel so incompetent,” he said, softer now. He flattened his hand and rubbed Cacao’s ruff, and she shifted in his lap, huffing contently. “And then I get scared. I mean, I kind of know in my head that I’m good at a lot of things, and that’s why people count on me so much. But then I have all this shit riding on me and meanwhile I’m still trying to convince myself that I’m not a complete moron.” He contemplated that for a moment. “Man, is that really it? Just self-esteem and trauma?”

“I wouldn’t say just,” Raine said gently. “After all, if this has proved anything, it’s proved that those things can be quite significant.”

“Yeah, apparently.” Percy sighed, looking down at Cacao. “What now?”

“Crisis plans,” Raine said. “You have some for moderate crises already, but you should have a few last resort options that you can turn to if you think you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Percy scratched the dog in his lap. “But if I want to hurt myself...” He trailed off.

“You don’t want to hurt yourself,” Raine reminded him softly. “You want the pain to stop. What we need to do is give you more ways to seek comfort, ones you can trust will work when you’re disoriented and overwhelmed. Who would you want to go to, in that state?”

“Mom,” Percy said without hesitation. “If I can get to Mom, it’s gonna be Mom.” He scratched Cacao behind the ear, frowning. “If I’m at camp... most of my friends are there, obviously. Chiron...” He bit his lip. “I’m not sure. I love him, he’s safe and everything, but he’s awful at being comforting. I’d have to think about it.”

Raine nodded, and then asked, “Which of your friends would you be comfortable going to during a mental health crisis?”

Percy sighed, leaned back, and thought it over for a bit. “Annabeth and Grover, obviously. No question.” He missed Silena. Silena would have been more than willing to help. “Hazel, if she’s around. She’s so sweet, I wish you could meet her. Piper... Piper is really compassionate, and I think I could go to her. And... Jason.” He was a little surprised to realize that. “We’re not as close as I’d like to be, but he’s reassuring. I don’t think he’d even mind.”

“Would any of the others?” Raine asked. Percy shook his head.

“Can you imagine if I tried to ask for help from someone I thought would resent it?” he asked ruefully. “Rachel, Clarisse, and Will could probably all handle it too, but I’m not sure any of them would be okay with it. And, I mean- I’d have to be sure.”

Raine nodded in understanding. “This is a good start,” she reassured him. “Are you comfortable with it?”

Percy shrugged, glancing away as his mind wandered. “Thinking about telling Mom again,” he murmured. “I, uh, I don’t know how much detail is, you know, okay.”

“You’re worried about being unnecessarily graphic, yes?” Raine clarified. Percy nodded. “I think... you can say that you made an attempt, but it was during a fight, so you didn’t fully understand what you were doing until you spoke about it in therapy. Does that sound adequate?”

Percy considered that, then sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s what I’ll go with.”

“One more thing.” Percy frowned. “I’d like if one or both of your parents could come in so we can discuss the situation in person. I understand if you want to explain what happened in private, but I think a conference would be helpful.”

Percy winced, drawing Cacao closer and softening when the dog wriggled. “Why?” He batted aside his instinctive protest, recognizing it from when Raine had suggested family therapy.

“It would give you all an opportunity to clarify any misunderstandings before they could become a problem,” Raine explained gently. “And it would help all of you feel a bit more secure.”

Percy played with Cacao’s tail. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Raine said. “Take as much time as you need.”

“Oh Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Sally Jackson, if she’s home.”

The rainbow shimmered, and then faded into an image of Sally, washing dishes. It must have been Paul’s night to cook.

“Hey, Mom,” he said.

Sally started and looked over, then smiled, looking pleasantly surprised. She abandoned the pan in the sink and moved to dry off her hands. “Good evening, sweetheart. Wanted to see your mama’s face today?”

She looked warm, clearly in a good mood, and Percy felt a stab of regret for how he was about to... to... Percy gave up on trying to rephrase the thought and shoved it aside entirely, feeling flustered.

Sally’s smile faded.

“Percy?”

“Oh, sorry,” Percy said, realizing he’d been silent for a while. He rubbed his arm self-consciously. “Can you get Paul? I have something serious to talk to you guys about.”

Worry overtook Sally’s expression, but she nodded and stepped away, calling for Paul. Percy fidgeted with his necklace for a minute, and before long Sally returned, with an equally concerned-looking Paul in tow.

“Alright, Percy, we’re listening,” Sally said softly. Percy took a deep breath, heartbeat fluttering nervously.

“I want you to know, first, that I’m feeling a lot better now,” he said, rubbing his camp beads between his fingers. “This quest hit me really hard, but I’m getting better. Okay?”

“That’s good, guppy,” Sally murmured, though it looked like her anxiety was only increasing. Percy winced, and Paul took Sally’s hand.

Deep breath, hold, and let it out.

“A week or two after Tartarus, it was getting really dark in my head,” he said. He avoided looking at either of them, but tapped his knuckles together nervously. It was hard to breathe. “I didn’t feel good about myself, I didn’t feel good about how things were going, and I... I tried to kill myself.” He fidgeted, tugging unhappily at his sleeve. “It was during a fight, so I didn’t really understand what I was doing until I talked about it with Raine. But, um, I figured I should tell you.”

He forced himself to look up, wincing in anticipation.

Sally, of course, was struggling to bring her emotions under control; her breath was short and stuttered, her eyes wet, and her mouth hidden behind one hand. The other had a white-knuckled grip on Paul’s. Paul looked almost as shaken, but maintained his composure.

“Thank you for telling us, Percy,” Paul said seriously, keeping his eyes on Percy. “Do you need anything from us?”

Percy loved Paul. Seriously, the best stepdad he could have wished for.

“Um, Raine said that we were already doing most of the stuff you’d do after that,” Percy said awkwardly. “With me being at St. Joan’s and everything. But she wants you guys to come in soon, to, to talk about it. I- I guess this weekend, with Paul needing to teach and stuff.”

“I can call in a substitute for the day,” Paul said. “Tomorrow?”

Percy managed a smile. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Tomorrow’s good.”

Sally finally steadied herself enough to speak. “How are you feeling now, baby?”

Percy opened his mouth to reassure her, then reconsidered and admitted, “I’m... kind of shaken up. I didn’t realize I’d gotten that low, I guess. A-and I don’t like that I made a...” He hesitated. “An impulsive decision months ago, and now it’s everybody’s problem.”

Sally leaned forward a little, anxiety still covering her like a cloud. “You know you can call me anytime you need,” she said, eyes searching his for answers. “I’ll never mind. Not for you.”

Percy managed a shaky smile.

“I tried,” he admitted. “That evening, and, um, once or twice before that. But Hera... did something, so that I couldn’t Iris-message anyone from home. None of them went through.” He’d even scraped some food into the fire at one point, hoping to appeal to the whole goddess-of-motherhood thing. It hadn’t worked.

Sally’s breath hitched. “Oh, baby,” she murmured. “You must have been miserable.”

Percy clenched and unclenched the hand over his chest, and then he exhaled.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “It was... it was really bad, even outside of Tartarus.”

“You’re home now, sweetheart,” Sally reminded him, making him look up again. “You’re home and everyone you love is here for you, understand? We’re all with you.”

Percy tried to smile and nodded firmly.

“Do you want to go to Montauk when you graduate?” Sally asked, a subtle edge of desperation to her voice. Percy’s eyes widened, and Sally smiled at him. “We can celebrate your coming home again. Maybe invite some of your friends.”

Do something nice for yourself because you’ve decided you deserve it, Raine reminded him.

Percy’s smile this time was much wider and much easier.

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds great, Mom.”

“Do you want anything for the occasion?” Paul asked. “I think you’ve earned something for all your hard work.”

Something deep in Percy glowed at the recognition. “A new skateboard?” he asked instantly, thinking of his own now a little too small, and then blushed. But Paul just smiled at him.

“Done,” Paul said firmly.

Percy remembered now: it was really nice to have something to look forward to.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Raine said, inviting them to sit down with a gesture. All three chairs were close to the desk, laid out more like a conference than a therapy session.

"Of course," Sally murmured, fidgeting with her sleeve. “Anything.”

Paul gave Percy a reassuring smile as he sat down, then turned his attention to Raine. “What did you want to speak about?”

“Percy has already explained what happened, yes?” she prompted, and both parents nodded. Percy winced, glancing away. “Do you have any questions about it?”

Sally bit her lip. Percy guessed she had quite a few, and she wasn’t sure if all of them were okay to ask. What she settled on, though, was, “What do we need to do to keep him safe?”

Percy’s heart skipped a beat. He actually wasn’t sure whether it was from gratitude or guilt.

“Most of it is already being done,” Raine reassured her. “We weren’t unaware that he was struggling, and you took a lot of good steps last year.” She tapped the desk, and then continued, intent and focused, “One serious attempt does increase the risk of another. It indicates desperation. The most important thing is to make sure he has simple, accessible ways to seek comfort when he’s overwhelmed.”

Sally surprised Percy by reaching out and taking his hand. When he looked up, she was giving him a sad, comforting smile, and even if she didn’t open her mouth, he could kind of hear her anyway. We’ll get through this, sweetheart.

He squeezed her hand.

“Dr. Robins,” Paul said, soft and serious, “can you give us an honest assessment of how you think Percy is doing right now?”

“Please, Raine is fine,” Raine insisted, and then looked at Percy. “Percy, may I?” Percy nodded, and she looked back at Paul and Sally. “Barring further trauma, I do think he’s out of danger,” she reassured them. “His morale is badly damaged, and he has a lot of healing to do. I’m not sure if he’ll be ready to resume a normal routine by the end of his stay here. But he’s been in therapy for two months now, and he’s responding very well to treatment. I think he’ll be okay.”

There was something painfully real about hearing Raine explain his mental state so bluntly. He moved a little closer to Sally and leaned into her, and she moved their hands to his lap.

“Do you think he’s going to need to stay for a second quarter?” Paul asked with concern.

“No,” Percy blurted out. He turned his forehead against Sally, tensing up to the point of pain, and felt her tense in return. “No. I’m not doing it.” His voice shook.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Raine soothed both of them. “At the rate he’s improving, he’ll be more than well enough to return home when he expects to. But he may not be able to resume all of his usual responsibilities, and I certainly wouldn’t recommend enrolling him in school.”

Percy relaxed, exhaling with relief. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad about it.

“Percy, do you remember the days before Kym?” Percy hummed affirmatively. “Can you think of anything that might have helped then?”

He hesitated, confused at first. It had been an impulsive attempt – how could anyone have stopped it ahead of time?

Then again, thinking back... yeah, okay, he’d been pretty off for a while at that point. “I think having someone to talk to would have helped,” he admitted. “I mean- someone who wasn’t just as much at the end of their rope as I was. Mom, Chiron- I probably would’ve even settled for Coach Hedge at that point.”

Raine looked like she was going to ask a question, but stopped herself and wrote it down instead.

He scuffed his feet, sitting up better to think about it, and continued, “If I’d been able to drop everything and go home, I would have. I mean, not exactly an option during quests, but if I was somewhere else...” He trailed off, but Sally nodded encouragingly. “And... I think if I’d been able to rest. Jason had been laid up for a few days up to this, so it was just me guarding the boat. Physically I was holding up alright, but emotionally...” He grimaced.

“You needed a break,” Raine concluded. “Can you think of a way you might communicate that in the future?”

Percy contemplated. “Can’t I just say I’m tired?”

“Certainly you can,” Raine said. “But it may help to be able to communicate that emotional burnout.”

He grunted, thinking about it. He hesitated, shook his head, then shook his head again. “I don’t know.”

Sally squeezed his hand. “You could be open,” she murmured. “You could say that you need help.”

The thought made Percy wince, but he nodded grudgingly. “Yeah. I... That would work.” He drummed his fingers on his knee, frowning. “Yeah. Especially if I said it like that, they’d- probably get the idea.”

“Do you think you could?” Raine prodded gently.

Percy cast his mind back, thinking of leaning against the rail of the Argo, exhausted and near to tears, stuck replaying the screams and accusations of the Acheron in his head. Could he have done that? Could he have just... turned around, gone inside, and told Piper or Frank that he needed help? Percy was the obvious choice, he was strongest in water, but Piper and Frank had more than proven that they could hold their own for a while. Could they... could they...

Before he knew it, tears welled up in Percy’s eyes and spilled over, and he pressed his wrist over his eyes. “We were so stupid,” he said helplessly.

“You’re children,” Raine reminded him. “You are children and you did your best. You did better than anyone had any right to ask of you.”

Percy took in a deep, slow breath, trying to force himself to steady again. He nodded silently, and then said, “I’m not sure if I could. I can try. I’d... I’d like to be able to do that.”

“That’s a very important step,” Raine said. She glanced at Paul and added, “Percy and I did a lot of this work yesterday, but it would be helpful for you to know his warning signs. Even if you only notice one out of several of them, it doesn’t hurt to check in.”

Paul nodded seriously, and Sally murmured, “Of course.”

They worked through a few more signs – the self-isolation, the praise-seeking, the worsening pessimism – before they circled back around to strategies. That Percy would go to his mom first, and what would be helpful for her to know or have, or Paul if Sally wasn’t around.

“Would you be comfortable being taken to the ER if your friend or parent doesn’t feel able to control the situation?” Raine asked him.

Percy wrinkled his nose. “I can’t go to the ER for this stuff, can I?”

“You most certainly can go to the ER if you’re feeling suicidal,” Raine told him. “You can also call 911. They aren’t necessarily the best options, but they’re perfectly viable.”

“Oh.” Percy considered that. “What’s the better option?”

“For most of my more at-risk patients, I recommend they add a suicide hotline or other helpline to their contacts,” Raine explained. “I’m not sure how viable that is for you, since you don’t have a cell phone, but it may help to have some numbers written down at home. They’ll help you plan so you can feel more in control, and if you’re still struggling, then they’ll direct you to the ER. Suicidal ideation is one of the more common reasons for voluntary hospitalization.”

“We can get him a cell phone,” Sally said. She glanced down and squeezed Percy’s hand. “Would you be okay with that, sweetheart?”

Percy followed her thought process without much trouble. “You think that’s worth it?” he asked hesitantly. “I mean, I can keep it off and the battery out like Annabeth does, so that’s no big deal. But a whole phone just for if I get upset? Phones are expensive.”

“I would feel a lot better about it,” Sally murmured.

Percy capitulated instantly.

Chapter Text

On Friday, Cassia pulled Percy aside after lunch.

“Raine tells me that you had a difficult week,” Cassia said, “so I wanted to go over this evening’s activity with you to see how you feel about it.”

Actually, though he was nervous about it, Percy had been kind of looking forward to Self-Esteem Friday. After the week he’d had, he desperately wanted to feel good about himself. “Sure. What is it?”

“I’ll be pairing you up to interview each other,” she explained. “You’ll spend about half an hour or so getting to know each other, and then present your partner to the group.” Percy’s fingers twitched anxiously. “Would you prefer to have more control than that?”

“...Yeah,” he said quietly.

“You’ll be asking each other specific questions,” Cassia said. “Would it be better if you could veto questions you didn’t want to answer?”

Percy rolled that one over in his head. It didn’t seem as likely to go wrong. “That sounds good. Thanks.” He hesitated. “Uh, did you have partners picked out already?”

“Yes,” Cassia said. “Did you have a preference?”

Percy crossed his arms and shrugged uncomfortably.

“I’d be kind of worried about partnering with Nico,” he admitted. “We’re close, but there’s a lot of baggage there too.”

“I remember,” Cassia murmured. Percy remembered with a jolt that he’d mentioned Nico last time, when he was talking about having to break the news to him. “Don’t worry, it’s more productive to separate you anyway. These exercises aren’t meant for people who have been friends for so long.”

He was still glad for the warning when they met that evening, and Cassia explained the activity again. Nico shot Percy a thinly-veiled look of anxiety, and Percy did his best to wave it off.

Percy had forgotten that there was an odd number of patients at the moment. Under Cassia’s direction, Amethyst was paired up with Mike, Nico with Ruya, and Violetta, Percy, and Lucy were all together.

“Percy, you wanna go first or last?” Violetta asked. Percy flashed her a grateful smile, though remembering the fuss he’d made the week before was mortifying.

“First is cool,” he said. Cassia had given them a list of questions they could ask, but honestly, he had enough practice welcoming new campers that he didn’t need the help. “Wait, to ask questions or answer them? It might be easier to have two people ask the third questions and rotate that around.”

Violetta glanced at Lucy and Lucy nodded. “I’m cool with that. Still first?”

“No, I wanna ask questions,” Percy said. He was gratified to realize he didn’t feel bad about it.

Violetta and Lucy stared at each other for a moment.

“I’ll go,” Lucy relented at last, wiggling back. “Most boring person first.”

“I don’t think anyone here can be boring,” Percy said. “Hey, do you have a favorite Bible story?”

Lucy shifted. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No!” Percy insisted. “Uh, old Greek stuff is kind of a family thing, so I’ve been thinking of Christianity in terms of Greek mythology since I was like, twelve or thirteen. So, do you have a favorite story?”

Lucy loosened up and smiled at him. “I was always really attached to Daniel in the lion’s den,” she said. “I think about him sitting right in the middle of the lions, not scared because he knows God won’t let them hurt him. Can you imagine feeling that safe?”

“I get that,” Percy said, thinking back to playing with sharks in the bay. “That’s a really sweet reason to like that story.”

The conversation flowed pretty easily from there. Violetta asked Lucy about music and school and hobbies she’d outgrown, and Percy asked about favorite vacations and what made her day bright and what her friends were like.

They interviewed Violetta next, about art and how she got into it and if she shared things online, what websites she spent time on, extracurriculars at school and what her favorite comfort meal was.

Then it was Percy’s turn, and he discovered that talking about the arai had not stopped the guilt from clawing at him, making him hug himself like that would shield him from it. The girls were nice about it, though, and let him brush off a few questions he wasn’t comfortable with – what he did with his friends, what counselors did at his camp, if anything cool had happened there lately.

Instead, Lucy asked him what his favorite Greek myth was, and Violetta asked about his favorite camp activity. Both of them wanted to know if there were any songs he liked to dance to. They talked about computer games for a bit, and Lucy started to extoll the virtues of the hidden object genre before stopping herself and promising to show him later.

The attention was soothing, once he trudged through the discomfort. Percy wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It seemed petty to enjoy being asked questions about himself, but at the same time, it was exactly what he’d wanted. Underneath the self-recrimination and the frustration and hurt, it was like a part of him that had turtled down was unfurling. Stammers and second-guesses smoothed out over the course of the conversation.

“Ruya, Nico, could you two present your partners first?” Cassia called out, once time was up. The two glanced at each other, and Nico grimaced. Ruya nodded and stood up.

“This is Nico,” Ruya said clearly. “He’s passionate about community and respectful burial rites, and he takes his coffee with sugar or cream but not both. He says it depends on how good the coffee is.” Nico looked embarrassed. Percy had to hide a smile. “He likes it when he’s invited to things, even if he doesn’t always want to go, but he doesn’t like it when people insist.”

Nico looked flustered, touching his shoulder and then his elbow and crossing his arms and looking away.

“Very well done, Ruya, thank you,” Cassia said warmly. “Nico, would you like to present Ruya now?”

“Um,” Nico said, and rocked on his heels, arms crossed tightly. “Ruya... doesn’t like coffee, she likes tea, and she takes it with honey. She likes to visit new places on her birthday, like a zoo or park she’s never been to, and she usually does it by herself. She tried to teach herself magic from library books instead of playing at recess, and that’s how she got into it. But she actually learned from video tutorials.” He shrugged, squirming. “That’s it.”

“Very good,” Cassia praised. “I can tell you did a good job listening to each other and asking attentive questions. Percy, Lucy, Violetta, would you like to go next?”

Percy glanced at Violetta, then Lucy, and when both of them nodded, he stood up. As he explained the two girls’ interests, he had to keep himself from smiling at how flustered they both seemed, the same sort of embarrassed and pleased to have someone pay attention to them. Knowing it was an exercise didn’t seem to mean much – positive attention was positive attention, Percy supposed.

Lucy moved to go after Percy, but then hesitated, giving him an openly worried glance. Percy grimaced and looked away, bouncing on the balls of his feet to shake some of the nervous energy off.

“I’ve got an eye on him, Lucy,” Cassia reassured her. “Go ahead.”

Lucy took a deep breath and nodded, and flashed Percy a comforting smile before she started. “Percy’s favorite myth is the naming of Athens, because it makes him think of his girlfriend. He likes to spend his birthday with just his mom, and they usually go to the beach where she met his dad. He likes it when people ask him for help, and he says it’s because it makes him feel like they trust him.”

Percy hugged himself while she was talking, feeling oddly overstimulated by the attention. He had to work to keep his breath slow and even.

Don’t let her find out much more about you, his shoulder devil taunted, or she’ll start to hate you. That’s what you really deserve.

All of those things are true, Percy told himself. They’re little things like you could ask anybody. There’s nothing wrong with bonding over them. And Lucy already knows a lot about me from group therapy anyway. She likes me just fine.

He smiled at Lucy when she looked at him again, and she gave him a relieved grin and moved on, introducing Violetta next. Then it was Violetta’s turn and Percy braced himself again, more hopeful but still nervous.

Violetta didn’t look at him before she started. “Percy has been attending the same summer camp since he was twelve, and he says it’s his favorite part of every year. He likes teaching the younger kids fencing, but he likes competing with the older kids more. And he’s one of those people that always stomps along to ‘We Will Rock You.’”

Liar, his shoulder devil scolded. You didn’t tell her anything, really. You should tell her that. Tell her how you lied to her.

I do do those things every summer, Percy reminded himself. Those are my favorite parts. Just because they’re not the whole story doesn’t mean I was lying.

He grinned at Violetta, and she flashed him a smile back before moving on to Lucy.

Percy pulled Grover aside that weekend to speak in private.

“Hey, you remember when we talked about restoring the empathy link, right?” Percy asked him, searching for an opening. Grover lit up.

“Course I do. You’re ready for it? Really?” The hope in his voice made Percy wince with guilt, considering what they were about to talk about. He made a so-so motion with his hand, and Grover frowned in concern.

“I’m doing better right now,” Percy said. “I think we could fix it and it wouldn’t bother you too much. But, um, there’s something you need to know first, because it might change your mind.”

Grover looked skeptical. “Really.”

Percy managed a laugh, though it was soft and distracted. They turned into the forest and walked quietly for a minute while Percy tried to figure out what to say. Even without the empathy link, Grover knew him well enough to give him time to think.

“Last time,” he said at last, “when you found out I was suicidal. Why did you keep the empathy link then? It could’ve been, like, really dangerous to you.”

Grover snorted. “I was kind of surprised you didn’t bring this up then,” he admitted. Percy’s stomach twisted, and Grover bumped him. “If I was worried about it, I would have brought it up, dude. But I wasn’t. You coming here was really more about your emotional health than your physical health. You deserve to be happy.”

Percy bit his lip. “And… if it was about keeping me from doing anything?”

Now Grover looked worried. “Perce. Did something happen?”

Time to bite the bullet. Again. “I tried to kill myself on this last quest,” he confessed. Grover stopped. Percy stopped, too, but kept his eyes on the path. “A few weeks after we got out of Tartarus. I didn’t even realize what I was doing, not really. I saw a chance to die and I took it.”

“Shit,” Grover murmured. Percy winced. “I wish I had been there.” Startled, Percy looked up and met his eyes. Grover’s were stormy, frustrated - not angry, not even really hurt. “You must’ve been so messed up by then. I could’ve helped you. I would’ve known something was wrong.”

“It’s not really anyone’s fault,” Percy reassured him, as much as he could. He stepped off the path, leaned on a tree, and slid down to the ground, and Grover sat across from him, borderline bad-tempered. “Everything was so chaotic out there. My mental health wasn’t exactly a top concern.”

“Obviously it should’ve been,” Grover snapped. Percy grimaced. “This- that settles it. I’m putting the link back.”

That- was exactly the reaction Percy had expected, though he was still wary of it. “Wait. Grover. That just- it’s even more dangerous now, okay? Because I can’t promise I wouldn’t…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the warning.

Grover paused, studying him with clear worry. “You think you’d do that? Even knowing…?”

“I don’t know what I’d do,” Percy said quietly, looking away to stare at a tree. “I was… so messed up, Grover. I mean- we were in the middle of a quest. The others needed me, Annabeth needed me, the world was at stake and stuff. But I wasn’t thinking about that. I- I was thinking about how I deserved to die. And…” His voice dropped, trying to explain the headspace he’d been in, the headspace that might- might make it not matter that he’d take Grover down with him. “It seemed like such a relief.”

“A relief from what, Percy?” There was fear there, and hurt. Percy didn’t hold it against him. With Percy being who he was, having the empathy link in place must’ve seemed like a failsafe to Grover.

“From being me.” Percy swallowed the ache in his throat and pulled out Riptide to fidget. “The guilt, the self-loathing, the pressure. Don’t you ever just want it to be over?” Stupid question. Percy sighed. “Never mind. I just… need you to understand that it might not ever be really safe to have an empathy link with me.”

“I’m going to hug you,” Grover decided. He scooted over and wrapped his arms around Percy, and Percy hugged him back and leaned in with a sigh. The pressure in his chest backed off, leaving a faint feeling of peace underneath the worry. A few minutes passed before Grover let go to look Percy in the eye. “Percy, it was never safe to have an empathy link with you. You’re a monster beacon of a demigod, and we were in a war that you were at the center of. And it definitely wasn’t safe for you when I first formed it, trapped in a Cyclops cave. But we kept it because we wanted to be there for each other. Remember?”

Percy did remember. “Isn’t this… different?”

“Not at all,” Grover said firmly. “With the empathy link, I’ll know when you need me. With feelings like that, like you just said - I’ll know, okay? I’ll call you. There’s no way it comes on all at once, either. You must’ve been building up to it for days.”

“I was,” Percy admitted. “It was obvious, once Raine and I talked about it.”

Grover nodded. “And once it reaches a certain point, I’ll feel it too. I’ll make sure you’re not alone.” He grinned at the wave of relief and affection that Percy must’ve given off. “So? Finally ready to hook up again?”

Percy laughed raggedly. “Yeah, G-man. Sounds great.”

Restoring the empathy link resulted in a burst of joy that Percy hadn’t been expecting. Most of the time, he didn’t consciously notice it, but getting it back filled an empty place in his chest. After months of being more painfully alone than he had been since he was thirteen, suddenly he could reach out and sense Grover in the distance whenever he wanted.

“I didn’t realize how important it was to me until I had it back,” Percy told Raine, rubbing his chest thoughtfully. “I mean, I never noticed myself depending on it like that.”

“Can you tell me more about it?” Raine asked. “You’ve only mentioned it in passing.”

“Grover made it right before my second summer at Camp Half-Blood,” Percy explained, tapping his feet contently as he thought back. “When he needed to contact me about being kidnapped by a Cyclops, you remember?” Raine nodded. “He offered to dissolve it afterward, but I liked knowing that Grover could contact me if he was in danger. So we kept it.” He smiled a little.

“What did that mean for you?” Raine asked.

“Well, it meant I could always tell when he was nearby,” Percy said. “And I could usually kind of tell what he was feeling. I mean, not perfectly, ‘cause Grover feels most things a little different from how I do, but I get the idea.” He drummed on his knee, then grabbed a fidget spinner to play with. “He can join me in dreams sometimes. He says satyrs don’t dream the same as humans, so he’s kind of more lucid in there than I am, but he says he doesn’t mind.”

“Do you?” Raine asked. Percy shook his head.

“It’s embarrassing, but really nice,” he admitted. “It was really helpful when I was here last year. Nightmares aren’t as bad when Grover’s there with me.” He tapped the fidget spinner on his thigh, and then continued, “After I talked about that- that time I hid in the bathroom, he was able to make sure he was in my dreams that night. And he was able to kind of steer me away from the hitting part of the nightmare and skip to the hiding part. And, um, he comforted me until I woke up.” The memory soothed him. “I was glad I asked for his help that time. That nightmare would have been a lot worse without him.”

“Considering your recent difficulty sleeping, is there a reason you asked him not to repair the empathy link earlier?” Raine asked. Percy winced.

“Yeah, seeing him there would not have been comforting,” Percy said firmly. “I mean, at Gabe’s apartment I could kind of rationalize it as like, me having a friend over or something. But seeing Grover in Tartarus...” He shook his head. “Even if nothing could hurt him there, seeing him there with us would be like... part of the nightmare. You know? It’d make it so much worse.”

“I can understand that,” Raine conceded quietly. “Do you think not having it contributed to your struggling mental health?”

Percy nodded. “I didn’t realize it until I had it back,” he repeated, playing with the toy spinner again. “But it was like... like my shadow suddenly disappeared. And I didn’t think it bothered me, because a shadow doesn’t really do anything, but now it’s back and I’m so happy about it, because it’s keeping me company again. Does that make any sense?”

“I believe so,” Raine said. “And it’s understandable, because social support is vital to maintaining mental health.” She thought for a moment, spinning her pen in her hand, and then asked, “Do you have a way of seeking quiet intimacy with your friends?”

“Uh, come again?” Percy asked awkwardly.

“Do you have a way of spending time with your friends that doesn’t ask much of you?” Raine clarified. “Something you can sit quietly and do near each other. Specifically, something you think you would feel up to even if you didn’t want to do anything.”

Percy snickered. “I don’t spend a lot of time sitting quietly. Uh, I hear what you’re saying though.” He leaned back, thinking about it. “I don’t think I do, though. If I’m too tired to do anything, I usually just pass out for a bit. I get too bored just sitting around.”

Raine hummed. “Have you ever tried co-sleeping with your friends?”

“Isn’t that... weird?” Percy asked hesitantly.

“It’s unusual,” Raine conceded. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, and you and your friends are very close. You should consider at least discussing it with them. And if not your friends- do you think you could have slept with Annabeth on the Argo?”

Percy snorted. “Nah. Coach Hedge would’ve thrown a fit.”

Raine frowned, distracted. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Who is Coach Hedge?”

Percy blinked, and then sat upright staring at her. “Who’s- I haven’t mentioned him? He was with us the whole first half of the quest.”

Raine shook her head, flipping back in her book to check something. “You’ve mentioned him... twice in passing, while you were discussing your mental state leading up to your encounter with Kym. I didn’t want to interrupt, given the intensity of the subject matter.”

“Huh.” Percy stared at her for a moment longer, and then flopped back with a sigh. “I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. He may as well not have been there at all.”

He was surprised at the bitterness in his voice.

“Who is he?” Raine repeated quietly.

“He, uh...” Percy waved his hand dismissively. “Adult supervision, I guess. I don’t really know.” He sighed, reaching up to rub his face. “I’m being uncharitable. He had his own stuff to worry about.”

“Percy.”

“Right.” Percy exhaled, realizing he was avoiding the topic. “Coach Hedge is a satyr. Protector by career. I’m seriously not that sure what he was supposed to be doing there. Coach Hedge is a good fighter, but not on the level we needed for this quest, and most of the time he was in his cabin. Anyway, most of what he actually did was like, make sure none of the couples got together behind closed doors.”

“Adult supervision,” Raine echoed with understanding.

“Yeah,” Percy sighed. “He, uh – he’d married a cloud nymph a couple months back, got the news that she was pregnant while we were on the quest. Spent pretty much all his time Iris-messaging her.” He rubbed his cheek with the heel of his palm. “Like I said, I... don’t really understand why he was with us at all.”

“It sounds like,” Raine observed softly, “there is something you wish he had been doing there.”

Percy lowered his head and tried to think about it. It took him a bit to put his finger on it. “I- it’s mean. How I’m saying this in my head, it’s mean. I don’t mean it like that.”

“I understand,” Raine said. “Coach Hedge isn’t here. You can sort through your feelings safely.”

Percy let out a shuddering exhale, relieved, and then said, “I-it was selfish of him. He was being selfish. I- I understand why he was so anxious, okay? But all of us were anxious. All of us were struggling. He, he couldn’t even- I dunno, sit with Hazel, help her get stuff in her stomach? Make sure Frank and Piper slept?” He hunched down over the back of the chair, shoulders curving. “Why did he get to hide from everything? Why did he get to call home?”

That was a horrible knot of bitterness, jealousy, hurt, and shame that he’d found in his chest. Percy wanted to put it back.

“Can you tell me why you’re upset?” Raine asked softly. Percy took a deep breath.

“Why was he there,” he muttered, “if he wasn’t going to help us?” He covered his face. “I hate this. This sucks. I was fine with Coach Hedge and now I don’t even want to look at him.”

“Were you fine with Coach Hedge?”

Percy hesitated, and then felt a sinking in his chest. “...haven’t seen him,” he mumbled.

Raine gave him another minute, but when he didn’t say anything else, she spoke.

“It speaks to your compassion that you understand the position he was in,” Raine said gently. “But it’s understandable that that doesn’t erase the pain you feel.” She leaned on her desk, intent eyes on him. “As a chaperoning adult, he put himself in the position of having responsibilities to you and your companions. And from what you tell me, he did not fulfill those responsibilities. Considering how desperately you – as a group, but also you in particular - needed support during that quest, it’s entirely fair for you to feel hurt by that neglect.”

“I don’t want to feel this way,” he told the floor. “Coach Hedge has been a protector for years. He’s done a lot for us. He’s earned some selfishness.”

“He’s done a lot to help other demigods,” Raine said gently, “which tells you that Coach Hedge is a good person overall. But he did not help you when you needed it, and it’s okay for you to feel hurt by that. Good people sometimes do hurtful things.”

“...I was really jealous when he got to go home,” Percy confessed without looking Raine in the eye. “I mean – officially it was so he could protect Reyna and Nico, and he did that and all. But I think most of us knew. We were sending him home.”

“Of course,” Raine murmured. “You’d been away from home for months by then.”

Percy swallowed, and then said, “It was right after Annabeth and I got out of Tartarus.”

“Oh,” Raine said, in a soft, emotional tone that told Percy she understood exactly how much that still hurt.

“I don’t want to be mad at him,” Percy said again, worried that she’d misunderstand. “Because I get it, you know? I get it. It just...”

“You’re in a lot of pain,” Raine said. It was the umpteenth time Percy had heard it, so he didn’t know why it was still soothing to hear her acknowledge it so plainly. “That makes you more sensitive to each wound, not less. You’ll have an easier time coming to terms with it once you’ve healed.”

“And until then?” Percy asked.

“He hurt you,” Raine said quietly. “Accepting that may make him uncomfortable, but if he wants to continue to have a relationship with you, he can wait his turn.”

“Wait his turn?” Percy echoed, confused.

“You have a lot of issues to work through,” Raine said. “That means that we’ve had to prioritize. If you’re not ready to invest in that relationship right now, he will have to accept that.”

Percy grabbed Riptide to fidget with. “Seems mean,” he mumbled.

“It’s uncomfortable,” Raine agreed. “And the timing is, of course, up to you. What I’m trying to say is, you don’t need to confront that hurt for his benefit. You can and should wait to confront it until it benefits you.”

It clicked. “I shouldn’t do it because I’d feel bad if I didn’t,” Percy clarified slowly, “I should only do it after we’ve done the stuff I’m more worried about?”

Raine smiled at him. “Yes, exactly. You have a lot on your mind right now, and you have no obligation to forgive him when he wants you to. If he’s a good friend, he’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Percy felt a surprising amount of tension flood out of him, and he managed a small smile too. “Okay. Then... I guess we’ll talk more about Coach Hedge later?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Raine agreed.

Chapter Text

“Percy, can I just share your mom with you?”

Surprised, Percy rolled over and slid off his headphones, letting them fall onto the bed. His brow furrowed when he saw Annabeth sitting in what looked like a park, maybe on the edge of a fountain. She looked exhausted, which was fair, given how late it was for her.

“I think that’s how marriage works, yeah,” he said, pushing himself upright. The joke earned him a wet giggle. “What’s wrong?”

Annabeth leaned heavily on the fountain and rubbed her face. “I’m on my way there," she said after a minute. “I’m gonna head to Camp Jupiter and ask Hazel if she can take me to New York on Arion.”

“That’s a hard ride,” Percy said, his concern growing. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Annabeth admitted. “It’s just... Dad and I are on our third therapist, you know? And I don’t like this one either. She keeps pushing this idea that the real problem in our relationship is my relationship with Min.” She covered her face. “I don’t want to work on my relationship with Min. I don’t care.” She dropped her hands. “But Dad’s insisting that we stick it out for longer, because he doesn’t want to keep changing therapists. I...” She took a deep breath. “Mai and I had our first session a couple days ago.”

“How did it go?”

“She listened to me,” Annabeth burst out, putting her head in her hands again. “We talked about what I wanted to talk about. She didn’t tell me I was exaggerating. She gave me exercises to do.”

“Sounds like it went well,” Percy said softly. Annabeth nodded, stiff and jerky.

“I’m done playing troubled daughter for my dad,” she said. “I want to sleep at night. I want to start designing things again. I want to eat spicy food without thinking of the Phlegethon. I...” She scrubbed at her eyes. “I can’t keep living like this while I beat my head against a brick wall.”

“I’ll let Letitia and Mai know you’re on your way,” Percy promised. “This is gonna be good for you, alright? You’re making a good choice.”

“I hope so,” she sighed. She looked up at the sky, still dark and starry to Percy’s burgeoning dawn. “I’m gonna head to Camp Jupiter, see if I can catch a nap there before I talk to Hazel. See you soon.”

“See you soon,” Percy echoed, and cut through the Iris-message. He hesitated for a moment, staring at the window, and then got out of bed and headed out into the hall, still in pajamas.

The offside room designated for calls home wasn’t far from the main office, and Percy headed in there barefoot, wincing a little at the cold linoleum. He sat at the table and debated with himself for a moment, then dialed the Chase home and waited. When he’d almost given up on getting a response, someone picked up.

“It’s four in the morning, why are you calling?” Mrs. Chase asked, sleepy and irritable.

“Sorry, Mrs. Chase,” Percy said, leaning on the table. “I didn’t want you to find out the hard way that Annabeth had left.”

“Annabeth-“ Min cut herself off and sighed. “I’ll wake my husband.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Chase.”

He waited for a minute through clacks and murmurs on the other side of the line, and after a bit of that, the phone changed hands.

“Percy? What’s this about Annabeth leaving?” Frederick’s voice indicated that while he suspected the answer, he was hoping he was wrong.

“Hey, Mr. Chase,” Percy said quietly. “Sorry. Annabeth called me about ten, fifteen minutes ago. She said she’s on her way here.”

Frederick sighed heavily, a rasp in Percy’s ear. “Why is this where it always ends?” he asked, sounding helpless and frustrated. “Is she alright? Does she need airfare?”

Percy softened at the question. Despite their differences, Frederick really did care about his daughter. “She’s okay. She’s asking a friend of ours for a ride.”

“...Did she say why?”

“She really does want to make up with you, Mr. Chase,” Percy reassured the man, as kindly as he could. “But she went through a lot on this quest, and it was really getting to her. She needs trauma counseling before she gets back to working things out with you. Like, a lot of it.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if she let me support her?” Frederick protested.

“That’s what she wanted,” Percy said. “That’s why she tried with you first. But you weren’t getting anywhere, and she really, really needs this, Mr. Chase. Seriously, I think it’ll go a lot better when she’s feeling better.”

Frederick sighed again. “How bad was it really, Percy?” he asked quietly.

“...How bad was what?”

“Tartarus.” Percy didn’t answer right away, his stomach clenching and roiling. “I know it was bad. But I can’t find any specifics. There’s not a single legend anywhere that speaks in detail about Tartarus.”

Percy debated with himself for a moment, then decided to give Frederick enough to give him a ballpark idea. “It was bad. Raine had to put me on medication so I would stop throwing up from stress every night. We’re using therapy meant for kids because it’s the only way I can make myself talk about some of this stuff.”

“Annabeth is a strong girl. She won’t necessarily take it as... hard as you have.”

Percy’s patience wore thin. “Mr. Chase, I have told my therapist stories about watching friends die. I told her about insecurities I’ve never mentioned to anyone, I have told her details about my abuse that I haven’t even told my mom. None of them were as hard to talk about as this stuff. You’re going to have to accept that Annabeth has a lot of damage that has nothing to do with you, and if you want to help her with it, you are going to have to bridge that gap.”

There was a short pause, and then Frederick let out a long, shaky breath.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for,” he said at last. “Annabeth speaks very highly of you, and I appreciate your- your candor.” Pause. “I don’t know if I have ever truly known my daughter. When she came home... the way she is, I couldn’t even tell what was wrong, let alone how to help her. I’m sure you can imagine how alarmed I was.”

“It was a good idea, Mr. Chase,” Percy reassured him. “It’s just not what she needs most right now.” He hesitated, rubbing his thumb on the table. “Um, I can give you my mom’s number if you want. She’s been helping me through a lot of this stuff. Maybe she can, I dunno, help you figure things out.”

Frederick sighed heavily. “Yes, alright. I suppose that is the best I can do for now. Thank you.”

Raine nodded thoughtfully when Percy explained the situation.

“I understand,” she said. “I’m glad that she’s coming to get the help she needs. Though there is something I wanted to discuss with you before she arrived.”

Percy raised his eyebrows, bringing up one foot to rest on the seat with him. “What?”

“I want you to try to remember that you’ve been struggling to manage your emotional energy,” Raine explained gently. “You’ve been doing very well with letting the other patients handle problems on their own, and I want you to maintain that mentality with Annabeth.”

It clicked, and Percy bit his cheek. “I- are we supposed to stay away from each other while we’re here?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Raine said. “You’re very close, and spending some time together would likely be a good way to recharge for both of you. I’m asking you to try and avoid leaning on each other.” Percy scowled. “Remember, both of you are safe right now, and you don’t need to expend energy keeping it that way. You are here, separately, to receive help, separately. You cannot be each other’s crisis management.”

“Why not?” Percy snapped, crossing his arms.

Raine shifted in place, uncrossing her arms to rest on either side of her notebook and sitting up straighter. In a glimpse underneath her desk, he could see her legs uncrossing too. Though Percy logically knew she was more tense – she only did this when Percy’s temper reared its ugly head – the overall effect made her look relaxed.

“Because it is not necessary for you to protect each other here,” Raine reminded him quietly. “You can trust that Mai will look after Annabeth, and save that energy for your own recovery. In turn, Annabeth can trust that I will look after you, and save that energy for her recovery. Does that make sense?”

Percy’s shoulders loosened a little. “...Yeah,” he mumbled. “But what does that mean? We can’t comfort each other?”

“You can do that,” Raine reassured him, “though I’ll ask you to try and maintain light socialization with all of the other patients. What I’m asking you to do is to direct Annabeth to Mai if she seems to be in distress, and to continue coming to me rather than Annabeth.”

Percy picked up a swinging pendulum toy and fiddled with the axis, sighing. “We usually do that stuff for each other, though.”

“And that’s okay,” Raine said. “Under normal circumstances, both of you have more than enough energy to spare and fewer people able to care for you. But these are not normal circumstances. You are in a care facility, where both of you are receiving, essentially, emergency mental health treatment. You don't need to take care of each other here, because both of you are being cared for."

Percy didn’t like it, but it made sense. “Okay... but we can still talk and stuff?”

“Certainly,” Raine assured him. “You’ve been maintaining a healthy level of distance with Nico, to the best of my ability to tell. Does that give you an idea of what to aim for?”

Actually, it kind of did. Percy relaxed. “Yeah,” he said. “So spending-time-together stuff is okay? Even if it’s therapy stuff?”

“Absolutely.” Raine smiled at him, relaxing into a less strictly professional posture. “What we’re trying to do is keep you and Annabeth from developing a co-dependent relationship. You don’t appear to be headed in that direction, but the extent of your shared trauma makes it a concern anyway.”

“I’ll bite, what’s a co-dependent relationship?” Percy asked.

“It’s any relationship where both parties are excessively reliant on each other,” Raine explained. “For instance, if they become unable to seek emotional support from someone else, or if one or both of them is forced to allow to other to violate their boundaries to maintain the relationship.”

Percy’s fingers spasmed around the pendulum. “Uh, that sounds like abuse?”

“It’s an extremely unhealthy state of affairs,” Raine agreed gently. “It’s different from abuse in that the dependence tends to be both mutual and mutually detrimental. With you and Annabeth, my main concern is that your ability to seek support from others will erode over time. It’s important to maintain healthy boundaries even in a very happy and intimate relationship.”

Now it was starting to make sense. “Because then if something happens to one of us, the other one is screwed?”

“Exactly,” Raine agreed. “From what you’ve discussed with me, Annabeth was upset about your disappearance, but she was not self-destructive or catatonic. Co-dependent relationships are where we start to see those extreme stress responses.”

“I do have other friends, though,” Percy felt compelled to say. Raine nodded.

“You do,” she agreed, “and that’s one of the things that tells me you’re not at risk of that right now. Just remember to seek support from other people sometimes.” Percy nodded, and Raine continued, “Now, there is a topic I wanted to touch on before Annabeth arrived, but I want to check that you’re comfortable with it.” Percy cocked his head. “Are you and Annabeth, ah, intimate?”

It took a moment to click, and then Percy’s face heated up. “Um.”

Raine gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m not going to ask you for details, but I would like to briefly discuss safety and etiquette with you, if you’re alright with that.”

Percy thought about that, sighed, and settled in resignation. “Yeah, okay. Um...” He rubbed his arm, embarrassed. “Don’t worry too much. We haven’t, um, gotten our clothes off yet or anything.” He shrugged. “We haven’t had time, you know? We’ve been questing, or I’ve been here, or in a stupid fucking coma. And even when we were together, we were dealing with stuff.”

Raine nodded. “Thank you for being honest. We’ve had a few incidents in the past – I’m sure you’ve noticed that the boys and girls aren’t separated. Clothes-on activities are acceptable in moderation, but please be responsible.”

“Sure,” Percy agreed easily.

Percy got three hugs in a row, which pretty much made his day.

“You should have said something on the Argo,” Frank scolded him, pulling away to give him an appraising look like he was checking for visible injuries. “Hazel about had a fit when Jason explained. She nearly rode across the country that night.”

Percy turned pink. “You guys all had other things to worry about,” he protested. Before Frank could press the point, he turned his attention on Annabeth, who looked even more pale and tired in person. “You okay, Wise Girl? I talked to Letitia yesterday, she said that everything’s ready for you.”

Annabeth gave him a wan smile and kissed him on the cheek. “Better now I’m back with you,” she said. “Do I need to go check in and everything?”

Percy shook his head. “I talked to Letitia and Mai, they know you’re here. Um, we should probably see Cassia before group, but that gives us a few hours still.” He glanced at Frank and Hazel, wondering anxiously if they had time to stay and talk. He still had about twenty minutes of lunch before CBT workshop.

Hazel caught the look and smiled. “Why don’t we go inside and talk for a bit?” she suggested. “Frank and I wanted to check on you anyway.”

Percy smiled gratefully, and they headed inside to settle into a corner of the lobby. Annabeth leaned into him with a sigh, which was a display of affection she normally preferred to keep private, but Percy understood; she definitely needed the comfort. He wrapped his arm around her and looked up as Frank and Hazel settled down too.

“I’m not gonna go through the you-should-have-said-something lecture, we already know how that goes,” Frank told him, making Percy smile sheepishly. “How are you doing? Jason didn’t really give us any details.”

“I’m-” He changed his mind before he could say ‘okay,’ and amended, “Doing a lot better than I was. It’s, uh...” He waved vaguely. “Not exactly my first time having these problems, so I already had a therapist I trusted and stuff. Sucks to be institutionalized again though.”

“This isn’t what I was expecting,” Hazel admitted, glancing around curiously. “I thought asylums were more, um...”

“Oh, ye gods, forties asylums,” Percy winced. He didn’t know a ton, not like Annabeth probably did, but horror movies had given him more than enough to go by. “No, it doesn’t work like that anymore.”

“Lobotomies,” Annabeth grumbled against Percy’s shoulder.

“Jeez, no wonder you were so anxious,” Frank said. “No, this is more... Percy, how would you explain it?”

“Talking about how upset I am until I’m not upset anymore,” Percy suggested, making all three of his companions snort and snicker. He flashed a grin. “That’s basically how it works. Raine’s seen me cry probably more times than my mom has.”

“I can’t really picture you crying,” Hazel said, looking at Percy thoughtfully. “But that’s a good thing?”

Percy nodded. “It’s not fun, but I always feel better after.”

“I was thinking about it for us, too,” Frank added to Hazel. “I asked Reyna and New Rome has a couple of therapists.” Hazel looked around, nose scrunching up uncertainly. “Not like this! An appointment every week or two, maybe.” He fidgeted with his sleeve. “Mom told me that she didn’t know how much she needed therapy until she was doing it. She went between pretty much every tour of duty.”

His voice got lower toward the end, a shadow passing over him. Hazel reached over and squeezed his hand.

“What’s the care center for, then?” Hazel asked Percy. Percy hummed, shifting to cooperate as Annabeth squirmed to get more comfortable.

“St. Joan’s is for kids that are too mentally ill to function,” Percy explained, and then winced. “It sounds really bad when I put it like that. But it’s set up like this so that you’re always around people that know how to handle it. So if you have a panic attack or you’re gonna hurt yourself or something, you’re still safe here.” He squeezed Annabeth gently as she half-dozed against his shoulder. “And in the meantime they teach you safer ways to handle stress and stuff.”

“Excuse me, may I speak with you?”

Cassia’s voice made Percy start, and Annabeth reacted more violently, hand flying to the knife she’d picked up at camp. Cassia crouched nearby and waited patiently, and Percy gave her a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, Cassia,” he said. “They were just bringing Annabeth out here. And I haven’t gotten to talk to them since I got admitted, so...”

Cassia chuckled, a lot more gentle than when Poseidon had visited. “I understand, but you need to be at CBT in five minutes and Annabeth needs to settle in. Annabeth, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Annabeth nodded stiffly. “Will you two be visiting on Saturday, then?”

Frank and Hazel shared a troubled look; sometimes Percy thought they were even more on the same wavelength than him and Annabeth.

“We really need to be getting back,” Frank said apologetically.

“Not this Saturday,” Hazel agreed. “But we can come by again in a week or two. Reyna wouldn’t mind covering.”

“Sounds good,” Percy said, even though he was a little disappointed to see them go. “Thanks a ton for bringing Annabeth out here.”

“It was no trouble,” Hazel said earnestly.

It took another few minutes for them to excuse themselves, and Percy grabbed Annabeth’s hand to rub the back gently.

“Come on, Wise Girl, we gotta get up,” Percy encouraged. “You still have to see your room and stuff, and maybe take a nap before group.”

Annabeth sighed, but grudgingly stood up with Percy. Percy looked at Cassia.

“I’ve got her from here,” Cassia assured him. “You get to workshop.”

Percy looked at Annabeth, and didn’t take off until he saw a flash of a weary smile cross her face and she gave him a nod.

Chapter Text

About ten minutes before group, Percy grabbed Annabeth from her room and went to meet with Cassia, who was rifling through a file of notes in the playroom. She looked up when Percy knocked.

“Hey, Cassia,” Percy said. “When Nico got here you said something about this not being meant for close friends? And, um, Annabeth and I have known each other since we were twelve, so I was kind of wondering...”

Cassia looked at him for a moment before understanding sparked in her eyes. “You’re wondering how to conduct yourself with Annabeth around?” Percy nodded. “You’ve been doing very well with Nico. Do please sit apart during group – we want to try and keep everyone on even footing, and the two of you presenting as a unit may unbalance people. Otherwise, I’ll speak to you if something comes up, but that’s all.”

Percy relaxed. “Okay. Thanks, Cassia.”

“Of course.” Cassia looked at Annabeth. “Did you have a question?”

Percy glanced at Annabeth, who looked guarded and suspicious. She crossed her arms.

“You know that I’m an omega program patient, right?” she asked bluntly. Cassia tilted her head, studying her with curiosity.

“I do know,” she agreed, “but I’m afraid I haven’t been informed of exactly what that means for you.”

“I know,” Annabeth said. “I’m asking because I’m just here for trauma therapy, not childhood issues or anything like that. Do I still need to be in group therapy? Is that part of trauma counseling?”

Cassia looked briefly surprised, and she gave Annabeth a thoughtful look before she answered. “It is. Good trauma counseling focuses on more than just processing what happened. You also need to develop the social skills to help you seek support, and the emotional skills to help you cope. Mai will help you with anything you’re particularly struggling with, or that you need too urgently to wait, but I’m responsible for giving you the basic skillset.”

Percy watched Annabeth contemplate that for a long moment, and finally, she gave Cassia a firm nod. “I needed to check. Thanks.”

Apparently satisfied, she kissed Percy on the cheek and went to settle in one of the corners nearer to the door. Good for ambushes. Percy sat in his own favorite corner, far from the door and in plain sight, and had to smile at the familiarity.

Cassia was not smiling. Cassia looked concerned, though she apparently chose not to voice it, instead returning to her file. Just a few minutes later, the other patients began to filter in, and a few made surprised sounds as they noticed Annabeth.

Cassia closed her file once everyone was seated and smiled at them. “Good evening, everyone. I’m sure you’ve noticed our newest resident. Annabeth, would you like to introduce yourself?”

Annabeth leaned back and crossed her arms, studying the others intently enough to make some of them squirm. “Annabeth Chase,” she said curtly. “I’m studying to be an architect, I haven’t been to public school since I was seven, and I’ve run away from home five or six times now.”

“Damn, you have more guts than I have,” Amethyst said, clearly impressed. Annabeth actually flashed her a smirk before sitting back.

“Annabeth is already familiar with Percy and Nico, and I’ve been informed that they have some shared trauma that will come up now and again,” Cassia explained to the group. “That said, that is not a reason to ask them to take care of each others’ crises. Please leave that to their respective therapists – Mai for Annabeth, Eddie for Nico, and Raine for Percy. Those are the people to look for in an emergency. Does everyone understand?” She received a chorus of affirmatives. “Excellent! Go ahead and introduce yourselves, and then we can play two truths and a lie.”

A few of them cheered, and Mike started the round of introductions. Percy watched their progress as they went around the room, and smiled at Annabeth when it came time for his turn.

“Hey, Annabeth,” he said softly. “I know this is way out of your comfort zone, but I’m really glad you’re here.”

Emotions flashed across her face too quick for him to read, but she settled on a fond smile, and didn’t look away from him until Lucy spoke from a few feet away.

Nico took his cue from Percy. “Hey. I know this sucks. But it’s good not to be alone for it.”

Annabeth looked surprised, then tired, and she gave Nico a nod before returning her attention to Cassia.

“Thank you, everyone, I know it’s a little tedious to introduce yourself every other week,” Cassia said, earning a few snickers. “Annabeth, do you want to go first?”

Annabeth crossed her legs and nodded, casting a thoughtful eye over the group before she started. “My dad is an IT specialist, I’ve lived in a summer camp since I was seven, and I can weave pretty well.”

There was a beat as everyone absorbed it.

“See, it seems really obvious,” Violetta said at last, “which means it’s definitely not that one.”

Mike scrunched up his nose. “How do you figure that?”

“If it’s that obvious, it’s definitely a trick,” Amethyst agreed. “Percy?”

“I’m not helping, I know the answer,” Percy said, making a few of them groan.

“I don’t,” Nico said. “Putting my vote in for weaving. Annabeth’s not really artsy.”

Percy bit his lip, trying to keep from smiling. The others debated back and forth for a bit before settling on weaving, and Annabeth smirked.

“My dad’s a college professor,” she said, and then, to Nico, “I don’t enjoy weaving, but I know how to do it. Comes from Mom.”

“Oh,” Nico said with understanding.

Lucy went next, and Annabeth correctly guessed that she was gay and had failed three classes, but had never been out of state. Then Mike went, and Annabeth got his too, guessing that he was an athlete and dyslexic, but didn't like horror movies. Then Ruya, then Amethyst.

“Percy wasn’t kidding, you are scary smart,” Mike said, making Annabeth flash him a pleased smile. “Percy, bro, you gotta help us out.”

Percy was torn for a moment, but then Annabeth turned her eyes on him, bright with amusement and the spark of a competitive edge. “Come on, Seaweed Brain. Try me.”

“Annabeth,” Cassia interrupted, sitting up to start and put on her stern voice. Percy started.

“It’s okay,” he assured her hastily, leaning forward to catch Cassia’s eye. “It’s affectionate and stuff. Annabeth’s the only one that calls me that, and it’s okay because I know she knows I’m smart.”

Annabeth quickly understood the issue. “Oh- I guess you’re really familiar with Percy’s insecurities, huh?”

“Yes, I am,” Cassia confirmed. “I understand that you’re okay with it, Percy, but I’d still like to ask you-” She nodded at Annabeth. “-to limit your use of the nickname while you’re here. It might be a term of affection, but affectionate insults can still be demoralizing, especially to someone whose self-esteem is already damaged.”

Percy winced, giving Annabeth an anxious look. She looked troubled, which didn’t help, and she reached out, grabbed a beanie baby from a shelf, and played with it in her hands. “Yeah, okay,” she said tiredly. “Sorry, Percy.”

Percy gave Cassia a pleading look, and Cassia nodded at him and clarified to Annabeth, “Percy seems to be sincere in not minding, but I think the trial period will be good for both of you. Once you both graduate, what you call him is entirely up to the two of you.”

Annabeth relaxed a little, and nodded without looking up.

“So!” Mike said loudly, looking uncomfortable. “Percy! You were gonna try and trip Annabeth up, right?”

Percy perked up and gave Annabeth an encouraging smile. She smiled wearily back, and Percy took a moment to think. He had to bite his lip against another smile when he settled on it.

“I’ve been getting anger management lessons since I was five,” he said, “My grandfather came to my sixteenth birthday.” Both Nico and Annabeth spluttered, and Nico stared at him incredulously while Annabeth tried to stifle her laughter. Percy grinned. “And I’ve never been on medication.”

It took Annabeth a moment to get her giggles under control, and another few seconds after that to concentrate. He’d talked to her about the medication thing, but she’d recommended against it and he hadn’t brought it up again. He was pleased to realize he wasn’t even nervous about doing it now.

“What’s so funny?” Amethyst demanded.

“Percy’s grandfather did go to his birthday, technically,” Nico snorted. “But it wasn’t exactly a party.”

“He’s kind of a violent maniac,” Percy explained to the others, “and he was there to, you know, be a violent maniac, but I knew it would make them laugh.”

Cassia shook her head, but she didn’t look disapproving, just exasperated and fond.

“Anger management,” Annabeth decided. “You’d have better control if you’d been going to anger management that long, and Chiron is adamantly against any of us taking any kind of medication.”

“Ooooh,” Mike and Violetta chorused, though they quieted down quickly when Cassia gave them a stern look. Annabeth looked offended.

“I am not wrong.”

Percy didn’t bother to hide his grin this time.

“Ten years of anger management is pointless if it’s the same year over and over again,” he told her, “and meds are the only reason I stopped vomiting every night.”

“Hmph!” Annabeth crossed her arms, but she was smiling too, affectionate enough to brush off the annoyance. “Fine. You won’t get me next time- Percy.”

Percy had meant it when he said he didn’t mind the nickname she’d given him. But, he decided, there was still something really special about her holding it back for his sake.

“So, it’s kinda weird that three of you ended up here,” Violetta pointed out over dinner, picking valiantly at her food. “Something happened with all three of you, right? Cassia kind of implied that.”

The three of them looked at each other. Nico looked uncomfortable and Annabeth looked mildly tormented, so Percy decided to take over the explanation.

“Um, something happened on a camp trip and it kinda turned into a survival situation,” Percy improvised. “Nico wasn’t with us, but he was somewhere else in the same place and stuff.”

“Whoa,” Amethyst breathed. “You like, lived out an ‘I Survived’ episode.”

Percy smiled ruefully. “You have no idea.”

Ruya looked up, studying Percy thoughtfully. “Is that what put you in your coma?” she asked. “You got stuck in the wild and something happened?”

Percy hesitated, then nodded. It might not be true, but it was close enough to get the idea across. “It was pretty awful. It’s not the only reason I needed to come back here, but it’s the biggest one by a lot.”

“I can’t imagine,” Lucy said, sympathetic and earnest. “But you seem like you’re doing a lot better than when you got here. At least, you’re a lot more talkative now, and it seems like you’re sleeping better.”

Something clicked. “Oh gods, you have the room next to mine, don’t you? I’m really sorry.” His dad’s charm had cut down on his nightmares a lot, but nighttime was nighttime and he could still work himself up pretty bad when he was awake.

“I don’t think you have anything to apologize for,” Lucy said.

“Who has the room next to mine?” Annabeth asked. “Room two or four?”

“Four’s empty right now, that was Sofia’s room,” Mike told her. “Ruya, you’re in two, aren’t you?”

Ruya nodded and said to Annabeth, “It’s okay. We’re all pretty restless at night. Lucy’s usually awake in the playroom if you want company.”

“That’s a regular thing?” Nico asked. “When do you sleep?”

“I’m getting better at it,” Lucy protested, and then conceded, “Um, I usually take a nap during lunch and another during rec time.”

“That may be why you don’t sleep at night,” Mike said.

“It doesn’t help,” she admitted.

Annabeth set her fork down, plate mostly clean. “How long is rec time?” she asked. “I’ve been sleeping better during the day too.”

“From five to six, then we have dinner, and then from seven to nine,” Lucy said. “We’ve been playing kickball after dinner, so usually I nap after art block and then go doze after we play.”

“I didn’t realize you were still so messed up,” Percy said, and then, “Um, no offense.” Lucy smiled ruefully. “When did you get here?”

“Just the week before you did,” Lucy said. “I was kind of running my life into the ground, so Hope’s parents figured enough was enough.”

“That usually means something very different for us,” Amethyst noted dryly, and a few people winced or grimaced. “Sorry, had to say it.”

“How come you got here so long after Percy?” Mike asked Annabeth. “Cause, I mean, Percy was really messed up, and no offense, but you look literally sick.”

Percy could see the moment where Annabeth was about to brush him off, and then she changed her mind. “I was trying to do family therapy with my dad,” she said. “He’s not abusive, but he’s not what I need either.” She grimaced. “I decided yesterday that it really wasn’t worth it. I can’t live like this anymore.”

“It can get really bad,” Ruya agreed sympathetically. “I didn’t figure that out until I burst out crying in the middle of class and couldn’t stop. They had to send me to the nurse’s office. It was kind of embarrassing.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Nico asked Mike.

“I don’t exactly have a story like that, so I’m kind of embarrassed,” he said, looking sheepish. “I mean, I was stressed and all, but I wasn’t messed up.”

Percy nudged him. “Hey, you’re special circumstances. Don’t worry about it.”

“Special circumstances?” Amethyst asked. “You didn’t mention anything like that.”

“I saw some stuff I wasn’t supposed to,” Mike explained. “And then hit it with a baseball bat.”

Percy stifled a laugh. “Hey, you didn’t mention that.”

“I’m told it was a bad idea,” Mike said, smiling with some embarrassment. “But yeah, I don’t fit, like, any of the other criteria. I saw some stuff and it freaked me out, is all, and that kinda made me stress about everything else too.”

“What about you?” Amethyst asked Nico. Nico scowled.

“I told you, I’m humoring a friend,” he said, and then conceded reluctantly, “I’ve been paranoid and stuff, I guess. Nightmares, not sleeping well. Nothing super big though. You?”

Uncharacteristically, Amethyst twirled her hair around her finger, cheeks darkening. “Um, I’d been acting out and stuff, ‘cause that’s what teenagers do when they feel unwanted, I guess, is make themselves more unwanted. And it kind of got to the point that I was committing crimes? It was this or juvie.” She shrugged. “I didn’t think it would make a difference – like, why would therapy make me stop stealing stuff? But it’s, um, it’s been good.”

“The court referred you here?” Ruya asked, clearly skeptical. “My foster mom had to apply, write a letter, and sit for an interview to get me here.”

Amethyst shook her head. “My social worker had to do that stuff too. Court just said I needed to go to therapy in general.” She rubbed her cheek. “Honestly, Esteban is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“They had to sit for an interview?” Nico asked. “Why?”

“Didn’t someone have to do it for you?” Ruya asked. Nico shook his head, but Percy nodded.

“Chiron does it for us,” he explained to Nico. “It’s part to screen out anyone that would be, like, a serious jerk to the other kids, and part so Letitia can match them up with a therapist she thinks they’ll get along with.”

He started when Annabeth suddenly leaned against him, but then he looked at her and understood. She was half-dozing already, no longer paying much attention to the conversation. He reached down and squeezed her hand.

“I’m gonna take Annabeth to bed so she can get some sleep,” he told the others. “Meet you out at the sportsball field?”

“Sounds good,” Mike said.

With some effort, Percy coaxed Annabeth up and steered her toward the rooms. He flicked her light on even though it was still daylight, and set her down with care. By then she almost looked asleep, and he sat at the edge of her bed and smiled at her.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he told her quietly.

“You mentioned last week that part of the reason your self-esteem was low was because of your changing relationship with water,” Raine said. “Can you tell me about that?”

Percy grimaced. “Being around water usually gives me a big confidence boost,” he explained. “It’s like, a huge advantage in a fight – on a good day I practically feel invincible. Having this stuff happen... it kind of felt like a betrayal.”

“Tell me more about that,” Raine said. “What abilities does water give you? How do you feel about them?”

Percy glanced at her desk, then picked out a springy cord to play with, twisting it around his fingers. “Um, I mentioned that I can breathe underwater, and I can sense things most people can’t, like currents and stuff,” he said. “Water pressure can’t hurt me, cold water doesn’t hurt me. I have perfect bearings at sea. I don’t even get wet if I don’t want to. Those are my favorites. The ocean is beautiful underwater, and I can go really deep if I have the time. I feel safe and at home there... well, usually.”

He sighed. Talking about it made him feel melancholy, like he was describing a friend he didn’t talk to anymore.

“I get stronger and faster in water. My instincts are better, and I’m more aware. I can control it if I want – it’s easier if I’m moving it kind of in ways water normally moves, but I don’t have to. I can make storms, like, hurricanes and rainstorms, and summon it from seashell fossils. And it heals me no matter how hurt I am. The only times it hasn’t have been with like, really bad poisons.” He let go of the cord and then started twisting it around the fingers of his other hand. “It... it makes me feel powerful, I guess. I’ve won a lot of fights with those powers. That was how I caught Nereus, that was how I faced Hyperion. That was how I beat Ares in a fair fight. If I can’t do that, what am I even good for?”

Look at you, whining about all your powers, his shoulder devil taunted. Pathetic. You should be ashamed of yourself. Most people never have that kind of power. Stop complaining.

Everyone fights with the advantages they have, he told himself, and these are the advantages I’m used to having. Of course losing them scares me.

“I can talk to fish and horses, and they’re always really excited to see me,” he told Raine without looking at her. Why was this making him so sad? “They help me out if they can, sometimes even without me having to ask, and they’re really happy when I help them. When I have time I go out into the bay to help, and sometimes they even send Blackjack to come get me. And... that makes me feel really happy and well-liked.” He shrugged. “That’s the bulk of them, I guess. I dunno if that helped at all.”

Raine looked thoughtful, and it took a few moments before she spoke. “It was very helpful, thank you. It sounds to me like your powers over water have been bolstering your self-esteem in some of the places where it’s weakest. Feeling safe, competent, and well-liked are the three things you have the most trouble with.”

“Huh.” Percy sat up a little, thinking about that. “You know, I don’t think I even noticed. But I guess so, yeah.” A thought occurred to him, and he perked up hopefully. “Hey, does that mean that if I stop being scared of it, I’ll feel better about those things again?”

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt,” Raine agreed. “And we will take some time to work on that. But I think it would also help if we could find other sources of self-esteem for you to draw from. You are much more than your abilities, Percy.”

Percy deflated. “Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes more sense.”

Raine softened her voice. “I know it’s a difficult prospect, and not as familiar to you. But it will keep you much more stable in the long run if your self-esteem can’t be swept out from under you like this.”

Percy took a deep breath and nodded hard.

“The fear itself, we’ll need to work on after you’ve graduated,” she continued. “We’ll talk about it, of course, but you already know the fear is irrational, and you’re in a place where you can face that fear. Once you have access to deep water again, you’ll be able to teach your body to feel safe there.”

Percy groaned and covered his face. “Couldn’t we have done it before I came here?”

Raine gave him a wry look. “Do you think you were in any fit state to recondition yourself to feel safe?”

Percy winced. “Point.”

“Still, I understand that this is weighing on you,” Raine added, voice gentle again. “Let’s talk about how your abilities have been bolstering your self-esteem. Can you tell me more about how water makes you feel safe?”

Percy fidgeted with the cord. “It doesn’t hurt me,” he said quietly. “It can’t hurt me. That’s... that’s what I thought. I thought I was a normal kid for twelve years, you know? I didn’t know I could breathe underwater or go to the ocean floor or swim with sharks. So when I could do all of those things... I dunno, it was special.” Without thinking, he reached up and twisted the fragile chain of his new necklace around his thumb. “It was like my dad was protecting me every time I went in the water.”

“You felt connected to your father through your powers?” Raine asked. Startled, Percy glanced up, thought about it, and nodded.

“No one can take them from me,” he said. “They’re mine, and they’re gifts from my dad. And everyone who sees them knows it.” He shrugged, getting flustered as he tried to explain. “I mean- you’ve heard me talk about it enough, about Dad not being able to do most of what a mortal dad would do. But... but there’s this. I’m a son of Poseidon, and that means something.”

Raine made a soft sound of understanding, and then asked, “Do you think your father would love you any less if you could not use those abilities? For example, if you never conquered your fear of drowning?”

Percy winced, but he understood where she was coming from. He exhaled.

“No,” he admitted softly. “I mean- I think it would make him sad. But he told me he’s proud of me, and... most of those things, they didn’t really have anything to do with my powers. And he doesn’t seem like the sort of person who’d take it back.”

“Do you think he would still protect you in the water?”

Something in Percy’s chest released unexpectedly, and he let out a breath, slumping back in relief.

“Yeah,” he said. “I don’t think anything could stop him. Dad’s, um, Dad’s really protective of his kids.”

“Even though he couldn’t protect you every time?”

Framing it like that – it was like something snapped into focus, and Percy nodded.

“The muskeg wasn’t water,” he said, “so Dad couldn’t protect me even if he wanted to. And those nymphs... I don’t think I mentioned this, but they were really, really old. They were the original nymphs that helped Rhea give birth to Zeus. So it kind of makes sense that they could overpower Dad’s influence, at least for a bit.”

“It seems like you feel better about something,” Raine commented quietly. Percy nodded, feeling his shoulders start to relax.

“It’s... a better angle to look at it from, I guess,” he said. “It’s not so awful if those things were stuff Dad couldn’t protect me from, instead of water that could hurt me.” He hesitated, and then tacked on, “I... I think I’d still need to practice feeling safe in water again. But this... I like this better.”

“That’s very good,” Raine said warmly. “I’m glad you could come to terms with it in a way that comforts you.” She glanced at her notes. “Now- you also talked about your abilities being a significant asset when protecting yourself and your friends. I’d like you to think about fights you’ve won without any use of those abilities at all. What assets did you use instead?” She met his eyes again and added, “Please don’t credit your friends for these accomplishments. I understand that you are usually working together with other demigods, but I want you to focus on your own strengths.”

Percy bit his cheek uncertainly, but nodded and thought about it for a minute, trying to dig up the fights where he hadn’t had water to work with. It was... easier than he’d thought it would be, actually.

“There was Chrysaor, I guess,” he said haltingly. “I kind of mentioned this fight to you – he disarmed me really fast, so I always feel super bad about that fight, but, um...” He fidgeted and tugged at the cord again, not sure how to word it. “I was able to think on my feet and trick him, and won that way.”

“So you won the fight using your...?” Raine prompted.

“...Intelligence?” Percy suggested, in a softer and meeker tone than he’d meant to. But Raine beamed at him.

“That sounds correct to me,” she said. “Very well done, Percy.”

Startled, he smiled back brightly, and had to shake himself before he could refocus.

“I... beat the Furies using my talent as a swordsman,” he said quietly. “And... Medusa too, I guess. I didn’t really think about it, but it was a tricky shot, cutting off her head when I couldn’t see her directly. And I didn’t have any water then.” He exhaled. “Crusty... I used my, my intelligence then too. Tricked him into his own trap. And Charon...” He bit his lip, thinking about it. “That wasn’t really a fight, but I- I did good there. I didn’t trick him, though, so I guess... charisma?”

His voice came out small again, and he glanced at Raine uncertainly. Raine smiled at him and gave him a reassuring nod. He took a deep breath.

“I fought Polyphemus by overpowering him,” Percy said, slow and hesitant. “That was... my strength and my sword skills, I guess. And then I tricked Luke into revealing what he did, so I guess- that was my intelligence too.” He glanced at Raine for reassurance, and she smiled at him. He relaxed a little. “I, I helped beat the Nemean Lion by figuring out how to expose its weakness so that... that was me being smart too.” His cheeks heated up, but going over these old victories was actually making him feel really good. As he ran through that quest, though, his chest went cold. He bit his lip. “Um, I thought of another one, but I don’t know if I can feel good about it.”

“Can you tell me?” Raine coaxed. Percy lowered his head.

“...Talos,” he said softly. “I was the one that figured out we could go inside it and stop it that way. But then Bianca...” He trailed off. Raine’s expression softened with understanding.

“That was still a win, Percy,” she said gently. “There was tragedy, but it could have been much worse if you had not found that weakness. Can you tell me what you used in that fight?”

Percy took one deep breath, and then another, slow and careful. “My... my observational skills,” he decided at last. “It’s not a big jump to figure out you can stop it from the inside, but I don’t know if anyone would have noticed that hatch.”

“That’s very good, Percy. Keep going.”

More gingerly, he ran his mind over the rest of that quest, then the next. “I... I beat Antaeus by being smart too,” he decided. “Because he could heal instantly as long as the earth could reach him, so I got him to climb up and trapped him away from it.” He hesitated, then shook his head. “I can’t think of any others right now.” The ones he’d won with the Curse of Achilles didn’t really count.

“Very well done,” Raine praised him. “You listed a lot of your best assets in that exercise; those are all things you can feel proud of. Were any of those related to your abilities as a son of Poseidon?”

Percy’s chest unknotted, and he smiled and shook his head.

“No,” he said quietly. “Those were all me.” He picked at the cord, and then added boldly, “A lot of them were me being smart.”

Raine smiled at him. “Then it sounds to me,” she said, “like your intelligence is an enormous asset to you and your friends.”

Percy smiled until his cheeks hurt.

“Can you think of other assets that you have to be proud of?” Raine prompted. “I know we did a similar exercise last month, but I want you to try and think of things that you’re good at.”

Percy’s smile faded slightly, and he started wrapping the cord around his fingers again, thinking about it. “My compassion,” he decided. “I don’t usually think of that as something to be good at, but I’ve been kind of thinking about it since I started directing it at myself on purpose, and it can take a lot of work to find that empathy. And, um, my leadership skills are good. I’ve gotten a lot of practice at camp, even outside of quests. Maybe especially.” He smiled a little. “And... and my resilience. I get knocked down a lot, but I always pick myself back up, even when it’s hard and I need help.”

“Then you have quite a lot to be proud of, don’t you?” Raine said with warmth.

Chapter Text

“Do the mortal kids even use all this monster stuff?” Percy asked, setting up rows up stuffed animals and larger figures along Raine’s bookshelf.

“You’d be surprised,” Raine said. “Eddie says that the dragon is especially popular for playing out abuse to small children, disasters or car accidents, that sort of thing. For that matter, was a dragon involved here?”

“No,” Percy admitted, sitting back to consider the setup. He pushed his usual chair across from the bookshelf and put the Harry and Luna figurines up on it. “Uh, you said I can kind of do whatever I want, right?”

“Anything within the framework of this memory,” Raine said. “We’re trying to give you control over the situation while allowing you to express your emotions. That can take many forms.”

Right. “Would it be a bad thing to play out me getting hurt?” he asked gingerly.

“That would be a perfectly normal thing to do,” Raine assured him. “It’s a popular way to express fear during play, but I may step in if it seems like it’s coming from a place of spite or guilt instead.”

“I’m not allowed to do that?”

“I’d like to talk about it if you do,” Raine said. “You wouldn’t actually be hurting yourself, so depending on your thought process, it may be alright.”

Percy shrugged, nodded, and tucked the note away – it wouldn’t come up now, but maybe later, when he was talking about Akhlys or the Doors. Instead, he took a deep breath and picked up the purple dragon with one hand and the Harry Potter figurine in the other. Then he frowned, put them both back down, and looked up.

“I just realized I don’t remember what we said,” he told her. “Like, not any of it.”

“You might have repressed the details,” Raine said gently. “You can make something up if you like.”

Percy nodded uncertainly, then picked the two toys up again.

“How bold of you to come to the Mansion of Night at the edge of Chaos!” he said for Nyx, bouncing the dragon on its tail. “You must want to die! I will oblige you, and... and...” Percy scowled. “Damn it. I can’t remember what she said.” He glanced up at Raine. “Uh, she said something weird that meant Annabeth could pretend she said that she was gonna kill herself, ‘cause we were so scary or something.”

Raine’s mouth twitched, making an expression like she didn’t know what to do with her face. “I understand. Please, go on.”

Percy nodded again, unsure, and tried to continue.

“That’s not what I meant!” he said for Nyx, bouncing the dragon again. He picked up Annabeth. “I sure hope not! That would make it really hard to check you off our bucket list!” He wiggled the dragon. “Bucket list!” Annabeth. “Yeah, our bucket list! Right, Percy? We’re here for the Tartarus tour, right?”

Percy put the toys down and laughed shakily, wiping his eyes.

“Gods,” he said weakly. “It sounds even stupider when I can’t remember what we actually made up.” He looked up at Raine. “But it was something like this. Some absurd tourism bit. I, I can’t believe they fell for it.”

“I understand,” Raine repeated softly. “Are you comfortable discussing this in this way, or would you prefer a different medium?”

Percy looked down and made a decision. “No, I want to- I wanna at least try like this. I have some...” He trailed off uncomfortably.

“Alright,” Raine said. “When you’re ready.”

Percy nodded, then picked them up again.

“The tour guide didn’t mention you,” he said for Annabeth, then flicked her like she was flipping her hair. It made him smile a little. “You must not be important.” He waved the dragon. “Me! Not important!” He tapped Annabeth on the floor. “Uh huh. I mean, has anyone even come to see you?” He bounced Nyx. “No one at all!” Annabeth. “I guess you haven’t done anything lately.” Nyx. “I am the mother of all the terrors! You should cower before me!”

Percy used the dragon to gesture at the bookshelf, where he’d set up every remaining toy that Raine had borrowed from Eddie – every play dinosaur, every little green army man, every Harry Potter figurine and Beanie Baby.

“Behold my newsworthiness!” he yelled for Nyx. Then, decisively, he put Annabeth down, picked up his own figure and turned it away. “Ahhhhh!”

He made the figure run away in terror. Without hesitation, he had dragon-Nyx leap and land on the much smaller figurine, smashing it against the ground. Then he squashed it against the dragon’s snout and shook it around angrily, and then scooted back to the bookshelf and dropped it into the void of Chaos.

Percy took a deep breath, held it for a count of five, then let it out. Then he went back to playing.

“Ahhhh!” His figure flopped face-down to hide like a child. “Rrrrahhhhh!” He clumsily swiped stuffed animals and toys off the bookshelf to huck them at himself and Annabeth until they were both buried.

He set them back up.

“Ahhhhh!” His figure screamed and ran in circles until he fell off the chair into the void.

He set them back up.

“Wah wah wah!” He made the figure sit down and pat its eyes like it was crying. Dragon-Nyx swung her tail and knocked him into Chaos.

He set them back up.

Percy kept doing that for a while – like, a genuinely embarrassing amount of time. He didn’t know why it made him feel better, but it did, letting him express the panic that he’d had to clamp down on back then. He felt the same sensation of crying without crying, relief bubbling up to take the place of the fear and pain he was venting out.

When he finally felt satisfied, Percy exhaled shakily. He put down his figure and picked up Annabeth’s.

“I want to take a picture, but there’s too many of you,” he said for Annabeth. “What if we take a picture of Nyx and her favorite child?” He wiggled the dragon again. “I have no favorite child!” Annabeth. “The darkest. The most like you.”

Percy put both toys down, stood up, and crossed to the light switch. Raine didn’t comment, though she cocked her head curiously. He grabbed the switch and wiggled it aggressively.

“I am the darkest! War and strife!” Flash, flash. “No, I am! Old age!” Flash, flash. “The curses!” Flash, flash. “The Fates!” Flash, flash. “Death himself!” Flash.

When he was content with that, he left the lights off and glanced gingerly at the room. It was broad daylight, plenty of sun coming in through the window, so the office was only dim, not dark. He abandoned the light switch and returned to the toys.

“I can’t see!” he said for Nyx. For Annabeth, “Jump!”

He jumped himself and Annabeth off the chair and onto the bottom shelf, letting them flee in between the books. Then he let out a breath and sat back.

“I, uh, I think that’s as much as I can play out,” he said to Raine, his voice only a little shaky. “We ran through the Mansion of Night with our eyes closed. I carried Annabeth across the river Acheron, the river of pain, and we met Bob on the other side.” He looked down and laughed shakily. “Geez. That was probably, what, ten minutes? Fifteen? It seemed like so long.”

“It seemed like you were very frightened,” Raine commented quietly. Percy smiled, leaning heavily on the chair beside him.

“With every nightmare and tragedy in the world staring us down?” he said. “If I hadn’t been so dehydrated, I would’ve pissed myself.”

Raine didn’t look surprised or even amused, just sort of sad. She moved out from behind her desk, sat beside him, and looked him in the eye while he was still shifting and trying to figure out what she was doing.

“Percy, what you just did, playing out your fear of Nyx and her children?” she said quietly. “That is exactly what you are supposed to do in play therapy. If you think of something else like that, an emotion you want to express or need you want to fulfill, I fully encourage you to act on it.”

His mind flashed unwillingly to Akhlys, and he nodded silently, wiping tears out of his eyes as he caught his breath.

“Are you up to talking about the Mansion of Night right now?”

Percy exhaled shakily. “I can try,” he said. “It’s not exactly gonna be detailed though.”

“That’s fine.”

Percy took a breath, closed his eyes, changed his mind, and opened them again, feeling chilled. “I don’t know what’s the in Mansion of Night,” he told Raine. “I don’t want to know. I know it was... big, because our footsteps echoed, and we could hear air movement and stuff – the sounds of an open space, you know? And I could kind of sense a river on one side, so I went that way, ‘cause I figured it was a way out.” He picked at the edge of the chair he was leaning on. “I couldn’t hear anything else, is I think the really scary thing. I mean, I could sense their presence, like- like someone standing right behind you, but a thousand times worse. But they weren’t making any noise. What could be that terrible and not make any noise?”

He took a deep breath before Raine could prompt him, held it, and let it out. He imagined Montauk, and his mother’s fingers in his hair. He counted out three long, slow breaths, and then continued.

“After Bob, I think I have the most nightmares about this,” he confessed at last. “They’re not as painful, but they’re terrifying. My mind just fills in everything I didn’t see, and- and I can’t even close my eyes once I wake up. A couple times I’ve woken up already having a panic attack.” He tried to smile. “I have too much imagination, I think.”

Raine nodded solemnly, then prompted, “Then what happened?”

Percy tapped his thigh nervously. “Annabeth almost ran right into the Acheron. It would’ve given me a scare if I hadn’t sort of been expecting it, but I caught her before she could fall in. The Acheron...” He trailed off.

“What was the Acheron like?” Raine asked softly. Percy swallowed.

“At first, all you hear is the screams,” he said. “I dunno how they decide who goes into it – Annabeth said it’s mostly murderers.” He shut his eyes, tensed, and opened them again, fixing his gaze firmly on the floor. “That’s- that’s what they said, too, once I started to be able to make out what they were saying.” He swallowed again, with difficulty. “They started telling me why I deserved to be in there with them, reminded me of every death I’ve ever had a hand in. Bianca, Luke, Ethan, Beckendorf...” He trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I think- I think my time here made dealing with that easier. ‘Cause I’d already come to terms with a lot of it, you know? It didn’t hit me as hard.”

“How did you feel about it?” Raine asked.

“...I was still really unnerved,” Percy admitted. “It, uh, it turned my stomach, you know? I didn’t nosedive like I might’ve before, but it still really sucked, a-and I felt guilty.” He picked at the chair again. “It was getting to Annabeth too, for a minute, so I was kind of able to focus on that and snap her out of it.”

“And then you carried her across?” Raine prompted. Percy nodded.

“I was... pretty sure it would work,” he said. “I’d walked on water before, and I’d controlled the Lethe, so I figured this was basically combining the two. I picked Annabeth up and... walked across the Acheron.”

“How did you feel about it?”

“I was really nervous,” he conceded, glancing away. “I wasn’t certain it would work, and I knew if it didn’t, it was going to be nasty. But it wasn’t worse than like, any time I’ve gone underwater since Alaska, which made it barely a blip on the Tartarus scale.” He shrugged. “We got across, and then we were out of the Mansion of Night. Piece of cake.”

Raine’s mouth twitched. “Piece of cake, with a side of demons and unearthly horror.”

Percy laughed. “Yeah, pretty much.”

An urgent rapping at his door jolted Percy out of his restless sleep, and he rolled out of bed right away, reaching for Riptide. But something made him hesitate. “Annabeth?”

The doorknob rattled, and he heard Annabeth curse under her breath when she found it locked. “Are you gonna let me in or n-not?”

Percy crossed over to open the door, and wasn’t surprised when he had to catch Annabeth, who threw herself at him as soon as it was clear. Her grip was too tight, digging into his ribs, so he hugged her back tight enough to feel her shaking. Without thinking, he steered her over to the bed and helped her sit down, and she leaned into him, gasping for breath against his collar.

For a few minutes, he sat with her, murmuring reassurances into her ear and lightly massaging the back of her neck. Slowly, her breath slowed down, then the trembling, but she didn’t pull away.

“Nightmare?” he murmured at last, when she felt less fragile in his arms. She nodded, taking a shaky breath.

“Spiders in the shadows,” Annabeth murmured back. He could hear the months of struggle in her cracking voice. “I keep thinking there are spiders in the shadows.”

“No spiders anywhere,” Percy promised.

“Says who?” Annabeth snapped, and then melted against him with half a frustrated sob, grip tightening. Percy bit his lip, wanting to ask, but- but. He could tell from the way Annabeth was shivering that it was going to be a long night.

A thought occurred to him, and his breath hitched. Dread flooded his chest like oil, and he pushed it away the best he could.

“Hey,” he said softly, setting his cheek on Annabeth’s head. “Let’s go see Mai, okay?”

Annabeth’s grip tightened enough to hurt again, and he hissed. “I don’t want to see Mai. I, I just want to lay with you for a while. Like we used to.”

Guilt choked him for a second, and he had to swallow it down. “I know, Annie. I’d really like that too.” Gods, did he want that. He took a deep, careful breath, held it, and let it out. “But you know I can’t help you, right? I don’t know how. Mai does.”

Annabeth went still, and then pulled away, looking at him. She looked exhausted, and hurt was starting to set in too. “Raine told you to do this, didn’t she? Can’t you just ignore her for once?”

The desperation in her voice made him flinch.

“Annabeth, please,” he pleaded, moving to catch her hands instead. “I want to, but I can’t be this for you, okay? And you can’t be this for me either.” Annabeth looked frustrated and mulish, and he squeezed her hands. “Annabeth, you have nightmares that make me feel like shit. I have nightmares that would make you mad at me.” She opened her mouth to protest. “Please. We can’t do this together.”

The words tasted like dirt in his mouth. Annabeth was giving him a hopeless look, but there was also reluctant understanding creeping in there.

“Okay,” she said softly. “Let’s go see Mai then.”

Percy almost collapsed with relief, and hugged her again before he grabbed her hand. “Okay. I’ll stay with you until you’re ready for me to go, okay?”

Annabeth relaxed a little, following him out the door when he started to move. Together, they went down the hall to the staff bedrooms, and Percy squinted at name labels while Annabeth held him in a death grip, squeaking at shadows. When they finally found Mai’s room, Percy knocked on the door. He had to force himself to do it sharply enough to wake someone. When he heard a sleepy, questioning murmur from inside, he knocked again.

“Mai?” he called out, low enough not to wake anyone else. “Annabeth needs help.”

“Mm...” He heard a rustle from inside, then the click of a lamp. “Annabeth?”

“...Yeah,” Annabeth agreed, reluctant and tense.

Mai sighed, but she sounded more awake when she replied. “Okay. Can you go to my office and wait there? I’ll be with you in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Mai,” Percy said, when Annabeth didn’t reply. “I’m gonna stay with Annabeth until she’s ready.”

“That’s fine.”

Mai’s office had an extra bookshelf compared to Raine’s, and more decorations on the walls. Percy sat on the floor with Annabeth and held her while they waited, letting her squeeze her eyes shut and block the world out the best she could.

Mai was still wearing her pajamas when she walked in, and her hair was tousled, but she looked alert and she was holding a water bottle, which she put close to them as she sat down a few feet away.

“Did you have a nightmare, Annabeth?” she asked, settling down with apparent calm.

Annabeth tensed against Percy, and he grabbed her hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. Finally, she looked up at Mai, pressing against Percy in a clear defensive gesture.

“Arachne,” she muttered. “Wasn’t that bad. B-but there are spiders in the shadows. I, I didn’t want to spend all night too terrified to close my eyes.”

“So you went to Percy for comfort,” Mai concluded.

“I’m not apologizing,” Annabeth snapped.

“I completely understand why you went to him,” Mai reassured Annabeth. “Now, Letitia had one of the custodians deep-clean this room before you arrived, but she also gave me some spider spray just in case. Would it make you feel better if I went over the room with it?”

“...Yes,” Annabeth said reluctantly.

Mai got up and retrieved a can from her desk, and then started going to the corners and shadows, spraying them down briskly.

“Have you thought about what makes you feel safe?” she asked as she did, without looking over.

Annabeth was starting to relax. It made Percy smile, relieved. “The smell of the ocean,” she said, turning her nose against Percy’s shoulder, as if to eliminate any doubt as to why. “Being prepared. Um, teddy bears.”

“Raine has a box of soft toys in her office,” Mai said, which is what made Percy realize that she did not. “I’m sure she’d let you borrow one during your stay here.”

“I don’t need one,” Annabeth said.

“Right now, I think anything that helps you feel safe is something you need,” Mai said, with so much conviction that Percy could reach out and touch it. Annabeth tensed, but when Percy looked down, there was something like longing written across her face. Her breath was still shaky and labored.

"I have one," Annabeth said at last, quietly. "It's... it's in my backpack."

"You can take it to sessions if you'd like," Mai told her. "Or even around campus. No one will tease you about it."

Annabeth looked away.

“Mai, the trash can, can you-” Annabeth faltered. Mai went and sprayed the trash can, and Annabeth sighed. “Thanks.” Pause. “Y-you can go now, Percy. Thanks for staying with me.”

He couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved. Even though he knew in his head that she’d forgiven him, his heart was still beating too fast, wracked with guilt for dragging her here and convinced she resented it. He kissed her on the cheek anyway. “Okay. See you in the morning, Wise Girl.”

The feeling didn’t go away when he closed the door behind him, and he hastily retreated to his room, then reconsidered, grabbed Fang, and went to Raine’s office instead. There, he rubbed on some lotion, making a mental note to lend it to Annabeth or maybe just ask his mom to bring some more, and then pulled on his headphones. He curled up in a corner and shut his eyes, trying to force himself to calm down. He tried to think of Montauk, but ended up just thinking of all the days he and Annabeth wouldn’t have anymore if she hated him. Soon, his shoulder devil started acting up, telling him how to punish himself so maybe she’d forgive him.

At some point, probably when he was hugging Fang against his chest and trying not to cry, he accepted that he wasn’t going to be able to calm down on his own. He took a deep breath.

What was the worst thing that could happen if he woke Raine up? She could get mad at him, not want to be his therapist anymore, and shunt him off onto one of the others.

What was the best thing that could happen? She could come out, stay with him through the rest of the night, and make him feel better about everything making him want to die right now.

What was most likely? She could come out and help him calm down, maybe even enough for him to go back to sleep, and she’d ask him to talk about it in therapy tomorrow. That thought gave him the courage to stumble to his feet, feeling cottony and disoriented.

Down the hall to the staff dorms. He knocked on the door.

“Raine?” he called out, much more hesitantly than he had for Annabeth. “Can you help me please?”

From inside, he heard a rustle, then a soft yawn. “Something the matter, Percy?”

“Um, yes?” His throat was too tight to explain better. He was still holding Fang to his chest like a young child. His shoulder devil berated him for waking her.

Another yawn. “Alright, I’ll be out in a minute. Go to my office, pick out a fidget toy, and describe it to yourself until I catch up.”

“Okay.”

Percy padded back to Raine’s office, picked up some kind of wind-up toy, and tightened the knob. As he released it, the cylinder started to spin, and the tiny bumps plucked at the thin tines, making him jump. Fur Elise played in a soft, clear tone, which made it click; this must be the inside part of a music box.

“Looks kinda like a piano,” he mumbled, settling down to watch it spin.

After a few minutes, the door opened. Like Mai, Raine was still in pajamas, and she came to sit with Percy. She looked a little bleary, but she didn’t seem annoyed.

“Can you tell me what happened, Percy?” Raine asked at last, focusing on him. “Was it a nightmare?”

Percy shook his head, then changed his mind and nodded.

“Annabeth had a nightmare,” he explained without looking up. He kneaded Fang with his hands, anxious and unhappy. “She, um, she came to cuddle with me afterwards, because she feels safer with me.”

“What did you do?” Raine prompted.

“I, I r-remembered what you... what you said,” Percy said quietly. He twisted Fang’s tail. “So I, um, convinced her to let me take her to Mai instead.”

“That was very good, Percy,” Raine said, soft and earnest. “I know that took a lot of strength, and I’m proud of you for remembering to take care of yourself.”

He tried to smile. It didn’t last long.

“I...” Percy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then pressed a hand to his chest and did it again, trying to will his pounding heart to slow down. “I... tried to calm down by myself for a bit, b-because asking her to talk to Mai instead made me feel really guilty. But I couldn’t do it, so I went to get you. Sorry.”

“You did exactly the right thing,” Raine said firmly. “You did a lot of very hard work for yourself tonight, and you should be proud of that. Can you tell me why you’re upset?”

He hugged Fang tightly against his chest, trying to stop trembling.

“I feel like I let Annabeth down,” he said, chest wound painfully tight. “A-and she’s never gonna forgive me for it and I’ve ruined everything. I, I can’t stop thinking about how much she’ll hate me for this.”

“How did she seem when you left?” she asked.

Percy swallowed. “Okay,” he admitted, pulling his knees close. “I, um, I stayed with her until she said it was okay for me to go.”

“That was a very kind thing to do,” Raine encouraged him, “and I’m sure she appreciated it. Can you run your worst case, best case exercise for me?”

Percy’s breath hitched, but he nodded and shifted his weight, staring at the floor. “Um, the worst thing that could happen is that Annabeth could feel betrayed because I wouldn’t help her, and she’ll break up with me and won’t be my friend anymore.” He took a slow, careful breath. “The- the best thing that could happen is that Mai makes her feel a lot better, and Annabeth is happy with what I did even though she didn’t want it at the time, and goes to Mai first while she’s here.” His chest loosened, just a bit. “And... the most likely is that she understands, and isn’t mad at me about it, and, um, probably tries to self-soothe before she goes to anyone.”

“Do you feel better now?” Raine asked gently. Percy took a deep breath and nodded.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I should’ve been able to do that by myself.”

Raine gave him a weary smile, rubbing her cheek with lingering drowsiness. “It’s alright. You’ve asked a lot of yourself tonight.” She considered him for a moment, and then shifted back to reach for her notebook, abandoned on her desk, then grabbed a pen to write something down. “At some point, I’d like to revisit the topic of coping when your friends are upset with you, but tonight isn’t the time for that. How are you feeling?”

Percy set his cheek on his knee, squeezing Fang against his chest. “Still garbage,” he admitted softly. “I... I haven’t told you what Annabeth is having nightmares about.”

Pause. “No, you haven’t,” Raine agreed. “I thought you’d tell me when you were ready.”

Percy shut his eyes and nodded. “I think she’s having nightmares about me hurting her,” he confessed to Raine. “B-because of what I did to Akhlys.”

Part of him expected Raine to react with alarm or disgust, but she just set a hand over his and squeezed gently. “Do you think you’re ready to talk about that yet?” she asked. He bit his lip.

“I wanna do another anger management session,” he decided, refusing to look up. “I did that stuff ‘cause I was so mad. I, I can’t be like that.”

Raine exhaled softly. Percy flinched, sensitive as a raw nerve.

“We can revisit the topic,” Raine said, “but I don’t think what you need is an anger management session. You’re not having outbursts, and you’re not behaving aggressively. But it’s clearly causing you a lot of distress, and it’s affecting your self-esteem. We can talk about that.”

“...Okay.” Percy tucked his cheek into his elbow, then against Fang’s snout. “Can I, um, can I wait until after we do that to decide?”

“Of course,” Raine reassured him. “You have full freedom to confront your trauma whenever you feel ready to do so.”

“Okay,” he repeated softly, and slumped as the screeching in the back of his head finally died down, leaving him exhausted. “I think I can try and sleep now. Thanks, Raine.”

Chapter Text

“Cacao!” Percy held out his arms for Cacao, who cheerfully trotted across the room and dumped herself in his lap. He giggled and rubbed her belly. “Hey, girl. It’s good to see you too.”

“She was so excited when she saw where we were going,” David chuckled, leaning on the doorframe. “You kids spoil her.”

“Does that mean you’re staying for lunch again?” Percy asked, and David smiled.

“That’s up to Letitia, but I’m sure neither of us would mind it.” He nodded at Cacao.

“Thank you again, David,” Raine said politely. “We’ll see you in two hours.”

David winced theatrically, buckling against the doorframe. “Oh, you’re in for one hell of a day, aren’t you, kid?”

Percy grimaced, shifting under the pup. “Yeah,” he said softly.

David turned more serious, nodded at Percy, and shut the door behind him.

“Alright, Percy,” Raine said, meeting his eyes. “Are you ready to get into what we spoke about last night?”

No, Percy wanted to say. Instead, he said, “I don’t know where to start.”

“Can you tell me what you think about your temper?” Raine asked.

Percy sighed, petting Cacao down her side. “I dunno, it’s bad,” he mumbled. “It gets me into trouble, it gets my friends into trouble. It’s hard to control and it makes me do stupid shit. It makes me violent sometimes. I need to control it better.”

“Can you reflect on what you just told me and see if you notice anything?” she requested. With another sigh, Percy sat back and did as he was asked, tipping his head back against the wall.

“I don’t-” He cut himself off as something clicked, and he bit his cheek. “I guess... it was really negative? Is that wrong?”

“Nothing you feel is ever wrong,” Raine reminded him gently. “But it does tell me that there is a well of unexplored trauma here.”

“If it’s not wrong, why do we spend so much time fixing it?” Percy asked, uncharacteristically gloomy. Raine didn’t answer right away, and he glanced up to see her studying him, clearly thinking.

“Think of your emotions as water,” Raine said at last, “and your thought process as a faucet. If the faucet is dirty, is the water wrong for being dirty as well?”

Percy wrinkled his nose, confused. “Uh, I guess not?”

Raine smiled at him, gentle and reassuring. “Your emotions feel wrong because they’re the visible result of damaged thought processes. But they are not wrong. They’re reflective of your inner state.”

It took Percy a couple minutes to fully untangle, but when he did, he relaxed, comforted. “You’re saying... we’re cleaning the faucet, not the emotions, because the faucet is the problem?”

“Exactly,” Raine said warmly. She tapped her notebook. “What we’ve discovered here is that you’re holding a lot of resentment and guilt regarding your temper, and it’s making you feel bad about it. Resolving those worries should help you feel much better.”

Percy sighed and resigned himself to another round of digging up trauma. “Okay. So how do we do that?”

“I’d like to revisit the idea of anger as a functional emotion,” Raine said, as focused and intent as ever. “I believe Cassia held her discussion on emotional function fairly recently, correct?”

“Last week,” Percy agreed, ruffling Cacao’s folds thoughtfully. “Anger is supposed to like, protect us, right? But it usually gets me into trouble.”

“Emotions don’t necessarily function as they’re intended to,” Raine agreed. “But that doesn’t change their purpose, and it doesn’t make that purpose any less important.” She crossed her arms loosely over her desk. “Anger is how we respond to a perceived threat. From that, it follows that if you’re getting angry, it’s because you feel unsafe in some way. Does that make sense?”

Percy hitched Cacao closer, uncomfortable, and pet her some more. “I guess,” he mumbled.

“You have reservations,” Raine concluded. Percy shrugged.

“I don’t see why it matters,” he admitted, rubbing Cacao’s ear. “If I’m angry, I don’t think it really matters why I’m angry.”

“And that is why you resent it so much,” Raine said. “What I’m telling you is that it is natural, normal, and allowed for you to be angry. There is nothing wrong with feeling anger. Feeling angry does not mean that you are bad or violent. It means that you feel threatened.”

Percy snorted bitterly. “Yeah, I’m sure Gabe felt real threatened every time I tried to talk to my mom before bed.”

Now where had that thought come from?

“He probably did,” Raine said gently, bringing Percy’s attention back to her. “People like that are often extremely insecure, and I expect he was, on some level, aware that your mother loves you much more than she loved him. That would make you very threatening.” Percy blinked at her dumbly, and Raine flicked her pen, waving aside the thought. “The psychology of abusers is complicated, and not particularly important to the topic at hand, though I can help you look into it another time if you’re interested. Percy, we’ve discussed your use of anger as a defense mechanism several times. Do you think you can connect that here?”

Percy fidgeted, played with Cacao’s ear, and smiled distractedly at her snuffle. “Um, that time we talked about using anger to protect myself from threatening emotions. But that still doesn’t really help me.”

“Because your anger is not the problem, Percy,” Raine said firmly. “Specifically, the problem is not the fact that you get angry sometimes. The anger is the dirty water coming from the faucet.”

Percy struggled to follow. “And... the real problem is that I feel threatened all the time?”

Raine nodded. “Your anger is no different from your sadness, your fear, or your pain. It’s unpleasant, and we would like you to feel less of it, but it is not wrong. It is not bad for you to be angry.”

Percy fidgeted. “But it causes so many problems.”

Raine pressed her fingers to her cheek, staring at him thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

Percy opened his mouth, hesitated, then sighed, slumping back in resignation.

“...Because everyone says so,” he said softly, “and I get in trouble for it a lot.”

“There we go,” Raine murmured. “Let’s talk about that. When have you gotten in trouble for getting angry?”

“At school, mostly,” Percy said, scratching Cacao’s ruff. Her weight was nice and warm on his lap, even if one of his feet was falling asleep. “Yelling at teachers, getting into fights.”

“Why were you yelling at teachers?”

“Cause they kept talking to me like I was dumb,” he muttered, leaning back on the wall, eyes on the pup. “Teachers hated me, you know? I’m dyslexic and ADHD, and I hated school, and that made me a bad student. And I mean, I was. I skipped homework assignments, I slept during class, I made noise.” He shrugged. “So they’d get mad at me for being lazy and disruptive, they’d scold or punish me for it, and I’d get mad and yell at them.”

“Do you think you can find the threat you were reacting to?” Raine prompted. Percy wrinkled his nose.

“The teacher, I guess? We’ve kind of talked about that before.”

“That’s a good start,” Raine agreed. “What was the teacher doing to you?”

Percy shrugged. “Uh, scolding me?”

“Objectively,” Raine acknowledged. “What were you reacting to?”

Percy bit his lip, and finally decided, “They were making me feel stupid and unwanted, and I was reacting to that.”

Raine smiled at him, pleased and proud. “And what happened when you got in trouble?”

Percy exhaled, scratching Cacao’s flank while she dozed. “I’d yell at the teacher and get sent to the principal’s office, and the principal would punish me for yelling. Or the teacher would handle it and we’d skip straight to the punishment.”

“Did they ever listen to your reasons for becoming angry?” Raine asked. Percy snorted.

“No. You ever met a principal?”

Raine flashed him a rueful smile, and then said, “What about the fights? I assume you mean with your peers?”

Percy shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. I did it a lot when I was younger – I mean, I did mention I was a nutjob at that age, right?”

“I do recall us discussing you being unhappy and overwhelmed, yes,” Raine murmured. Percy flushed, not sure how to react.

“...Yeah,” he mumbled.

“What made you get into fights?” she asked, like that wasn’t a bad thing.

Percy fidgeted and shrugged. “I dunno. Sometimes it was bullies, like, writing stuff on my desk or making fun of me or like, making a mess out of my stuff. Sometimes someone took something, sometimes I just thought they did. I really only needed an excuse.”

“Would teachers listen to your side of the story then?” Raine asked. Percy rolled his eyes.

“As if. I was the bad kid even in a class full of delinquents. They didn’t care why I was fighting, they just wanted me to shut up and sit down.”

“And at home?” Raine asked. Percy looked up sharply, caught off-guard.

“What about home?” he asked testily.

“What happened when you lost your temper at home?” Raine clarified softly.

“What do you think?” Percy muttered, and then buried his fingers in Cacao’s fur and sighed. “Sometimes I got in trouble, sometimes Mom did, usually both. But I couldn’t help it. Mom would all but beg me to keep my temper, and I still couldn’t do it.”

“Why couldn’t you keep your temper?” Raine asked.

“You think I didn’t ask myself that question every damn day?” Percy snapped.

“I apologize, I could have phrased that better,” Raine said, even and patient. “What I meant was, what threat were you reacting to?”

Some of Percy’s ire fell away, leaving embarrassment and a raw vulnerability. “Oh.” He cleared his throat, huddling back. “Gabe, I guess. The control he had over me, the insults and stuff.”

“It sounds to me,” Raine said gently, “like in all of those situations, you had perfectly valid reasons for being angry.”

“Didn’t help me much,” Percy pointed out. Raine shrugged.

“I also notice,” she continued, softer, “that you were never given a way to express your anger. You were only asked to repress it.”

“I couldn’t, though,” Percy muttered bitterly. Raine shrugged.

“No emotion can be suppressed forever,” she said. “Nor should they be. Anger is a vital part of processing physical and emotional pain, and it’s extremely unjust to refuse you that. There’s a reason why anger is one of your most important defense mechanisms.”

Percy wrinkled his forehead, trying to follow her train of thought. “So... getting angry helps me because it lets me come to terms with pain?”

“That’s a good way of viewing it, yes,” Raine agreed. “If you’re angry, that means that you believe you deserve better. If someone hurts you, and you’re not allowed to be angry about it, that teaches you that you don’t deserve better.” She gestured. “In all of the situations you described to me, you had perfectly legitimate reasons to be angry, but those reasons were discounted as unimportant so as to not inconvenience anyone. That was incredibly unfair to you, and I want you to understand that.”

“But I get angry all the time,” Percy said.

“You have a lot to be angry about,” Raine said gently. “That’s not your fault either.”

He flicked Cacao’s ear. “But why is it such a pain in the ass? I’ve gotten into so much trouble ‘cause of my temper.”

“It’s inconvenient,” Raine agreed. “Most strong negative emotions are. Think- in recent times we’ve spoken about the inconvenience of fear, of weariness, of grief. Emotions are simply inconvenient. Anger is no more or less so than any other one.” She considered him for a moment, and then continued, gentler, “You don’t have to be at your best all the time, Percy. You can’t be at your best all the time. If you make mistakes because you’re upset – that’s fine.”

Percy softened, but wasn’t quite convinced yet. “Mistakes like yelling at people?”

“Yes,” Raine said, perfectly serious. “That would be a mistake, but that is all it would be. You are not bad for yelling when you’re upset.”

Percy played with Cacao’s ear, a soft smile flashing across his face when it briefly turned inside out before Cacao twitched her ear to fix it. “Do I have to add new stuff to the trauma box now? I thought we were done with my childhood.”

“I would like you to think about it, yes,” Raine said, only a little apologetic. “I’m afraid you may not ever be truly done confronting your past. Occasionally, you’ll find deposits of trauma like this – things you hadn’t thought about before, or hadn’t realized still affected you.”

“Great,” Percy sighed, already pulling up a few memories he’d probably need to talk about. “Okay. I’ll work on those later.”

Raine nodded, and then prompted, “Have you thought more about the memory you’ve been worrying about?”

Percy flinched, then took a deep breath.

“It’s okay to be angry,” he prompted, searching Raine’s eyes anxiously. “Especially when someone hurts you. Right?”

“Of course,” Raine murmured.

“Is it... okay to hurt them back?”

“A fight for your life is what it is. I trust that you did whatever you felt you needed to do to come home.”

Percy hugged Cacao, taking comfort from her warm fur and panting flank. “I’ll talk about it. Just... give me a little more time, okay? I’m not ready yet.”

Annabeth was having a hard time warming up to the idea of group therapy, which was no surprise to Percy; vulnerability wasn’t exactly her strong suit. Still, it was hard not to worry about her as they settled into Thursday’s session, with Annabeth looking just as uncomfortable as she had on Monday.

A part of him was pleased when Cassia started to pass out M&M packets. If it was the exercise he was remembering, it would probably be good for Annabeth.

“Don’t eat these just yet,” Cassia said, turning toward the whiteboard. “If you open your packets, you’ll see that you have a random assortment of colors – some each of red, blue, yellow, green, orange, and brown. Each color corresponds with a category, and the number is how many things you’ll talk about from that category.”

“Boy oh boy, and I bet it’s gonna be about feelings,” Nico grumbled, making Cassia laugh softly.

“More or less,” she said, still writing. “Today’s topic is authority figures, and we’ll be discussing their roles in your lives, both positive and negative. For every red M&M, I want you to name one time an authority figure has helped you. For every blue one, I want you to talk about a time they’ve failed you. For every yellow one, talk about something you wish they’d done differently. Green, name an authority figure you trust. Orange, name one that you don’t. And for brown, talk about a time an authority figure has frightened you.”

Percy opened his hand to glance down and count them out. Three red M&Ms, four blue, two yellow, four green, two orange, and five brown. The last one made him wince. “Yeesh,” he mumbled, and showed Ruya the five browns when she glanced over curiously. She grimaced back and showed him her four.

“Do we at least get to eat them when we’re done?” Mike asked plaintively. Cassia chuckled.

“Yes, you can eat them as you work through your topics,” Cassia said. “We’ll start with a volunteer and go clockwise from there. Would anyone like to start?” After a beat of hesitation, Lucy raised her hand, offering herself. “Thank you, Lucy. Start with whatever you’d like.”

Lucy showed her a red M&M. “My school’s counselor recommended this place,” she said. “I didn’t really like getting counseling from him normally, but I’ll always be really grateful for that.”

Cassia gave her a warm smile. “It was good of him to recognize you weren’t getting what you needed there.”

“School counselors can be super stubborn about that,” Amethyst agreed.

They went around the room – Lucy to Mike to Violetta. Violetta, Percy noticed, looked more tired than usual, downtrodden and glum, and picked an obvious ‘safe’ answer on her turn. Concern sparked in his chest, and he had to force himself to stay put.

He all but snapped to attention as they reached Nico, watching the younger boy with undisguised concern. Nico didn’t seem to notice, frowning at nothing with an intense, contemplative look. Finally, Nico picked out a yellow M&M and rolled it over between his fingers.

“I wish Chiron had tried harder to stop me from running away,” Nico said, surprising Percy. Nico didn’t even glance at him, instead looking at the M&M in his hand. “I mean, it would’ve been hard. I don’t know if he could’ve. But I wasn’t thinking straight when I took off, and I think I needed someone to sit me down and help me cool my head.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now, I guess. What’s the point of this again?”

The last question was directed to Cassia, a slight defensive hunch setting in across Nico’s shoulders. Cassia, of course, didn’t look offended.

“There are a lot of purposes to this exercise,” she said, “but one of the most important is to help you understand that you are not at fault for the trauma you’ve endured. Recognizing that can help you forgive yourself.”

“For being childish?”

“Well, yeah,” Amethyst said, shrugging when Nico looked at her. “Kids will be kids, you know? It’s not like your younger self’s gonna magically gain five years of maturity just ‘cause you’re not that age anymore.”

“Okay, but it was stupid,” Nico said tersely. “It was a stupid thing to do, and I knew it.”

“Dude, kids are just like that,” Mike reminded him, trying to be encouraging. “Do you know how much stupid shit I did as a kid? You think eleven-year-old me didn’t know not to run into oncoming traffic? I did. I just did it anyway.”

“Dude, what?” Amethyst asked, staring at him. Mike smiled sheepishly.

“Uh, I’ll tell the story at dinner,” he said. “But what I’m saying is, kids do that stuff, you know? It’s part of being a kid. And part of being an adult is stopping kids from doing that stuff.”

Nico squinted at him, but did eventually conclude, “So, you’re saying it was Chiron’s job to keep me from running into oncoming traffic.”

Mike grinned. “Yeah!”

Nico rolled his eyes, popped the candy into his mouth, and looked at Ruya to pick up without replying further. But Percy thought he might look a little more relaxed now.

Ruya offered one of her browns, grimacing slightly. “I had a substitute gym teacher try to dress-code me into taking off my hijab,” she said, glancing away in clear discomfort. “Because I didn’t have a dress-down one, I guess, and she thought it would be stinky after gym.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Violetta said flatly. Ruya smiled a little and nodded, stiff and small.

“How did you feel about that?” Cassia asked Ruya. Ruya shrugged uncomfortably.

“Embarrassed, scared,” she said. “It was, um...” She tugged at a fold of her scarf, looking away. “That’s a really Islamophobic thing to do, and it made me nervous about what else she might try. I didn’t really want to be in class after that.”

“No kidding,” Lucy said softly. “I wouldn’t want to either. Did anyone say anything?”

Ruya shook her head, twisting her fingers into her dress.

“I don’t like it,” she said to the wall. “I don’t like that people can tell me to undress and no one sees anything wrong with it.”

“It’s really gross when you put it like that,” Mike said quietly. “What happened?”

“I walked out,” Ruya said. “Only time I’ve ever walked out of a class.”

“Good,” Annabeth said, startling Percy. She gave Ruya a nod, looking serious. “Don’t ever do something just because someone tells you to.”

The corner of Ruya’s mouth curved up, and she dipped her head, just for a moment. She ate her candy and nodded at Annabeth to take her turn. Annabeth grimaced and glanced down at her palm to consider her options, and finally picked out a green candy.

“I trust Chiron,” she said. “He’s not perfect, but he’s never let me down or led me wrong. He’s... well, everything I wish my father was.”

“Can you tell us a bit more about that?” Cassia prompted, making Annabeth frown at her. “What makes him a positive influence to you?”

Annabeth looked irritated, but she leaned back to consider it. “He listens really well,” she said after a moment. “I never have much trouble communicating with him. And he’s patient. I’ve never known him to get annoyed with a mistake.” She rolled the candy between her fingers, thinking. “But he still knows how to challenge me. He doesn’t just leave me to my own devices, and he doesn’t give me busywork. He asks me to do things that’ll help me grow.”

She nodded decisively, apparently satisfied with her given reasons, and looked up again. Ruya looked thoughtful.

“What do you mean, helps you grow?” she asked. Annabeth frowned.

“He made me head counselor of my cabin younger than most other counselors are,” she said. “He knew I had the organizational skills and the familiarity I needed to be a counselor, and taking the position taught me a lot about leadership and compromise.”

“Oh,” Ruya said. “Platonic ideal of a mentor.”

Annabeth smiled a little. “Yeah, I guess.”

She looked at Percy, who accepted the metaphorical baton with a resigned flick of a brown candy.

“Shouted at a teacher in second grade, and the teacher shouted back,” he said evenly, because he’d been thinking a lot about his childhood temper. “Never did that again.”

“Second grade?” Annabeth and Amethyst demanded almost in unison. Annabeth gave Amethyst a weirded-out look, but Amethyst didn’t seem to notice. “How old is that, like, seven?”

“Eight,” Percy said, grimacing. “Old enough to know better.”

“No, you know who was old enough to know better? The teacher.” Amethyst looked genuinely irate on Percy’s behalf. “Jesus. What kind of jerk shouts at little kids?”

“That’s a good point, actually,” Percy admitted, feeling a little better about it. “But still. I had such a hard time controlling my temper everywhere else, so why did I stop shouting at teachers after that? I don’t really get it.”

“They scared you, right?” Lucy prompted. She shrugged, glancing away. “Sorry, I mean, obviously. But it’s different after that, is what I mean. A threat is just a threat. But once you know what comes next...” She trailed off, and more than a few of the kids shifted in discomfort, including Percy.

“He didn’t do anything,” Percy muttered. “He just shouted.”

“Are you kidding?” Mike asked. “I see a grown man shouting at an eight year old, I’m calling the police. No grown-up has any business losing their temper at a kid.”

“Also, conditioning,” Amethyst added. “Like, he didn’t know what usually came next for you after shouting, but I’m sure by that point it was pretty engrained. To your hindbrain, shouting at you was as good as hitting you.”

“...I still shouldn’t have shouted first,” Percy muttered.

“Proportional response,” Ruya said earnestly. “If it was just that, he should have just sent you to a corner or something. A kid shouting at a teacher is not equal to a teacher shouting at a kid.”

Percy’s shoulders loosened. “Huh. Yeah, I guess.”

He popped the M&M into his mouth.

They went around the room, the order occasionally skipping around since they weren’t arranged in a neat circle. It was a pretty good session, like it had been the year before, and the commiseration felt good. Lucy talked about the useless ‘interventions’ some of her teachers had attempted when her academic performance went downhill, and Mike complained about the shitty accommodations his school offered. Ruya hesitantly shared a few more stories about harassment at school, and Amethyst talked a little about the various foster homes she’d passed through.

Percy’s only concern with Violetta, whose bad day was translating to reserved answers and halfhearted participation. He reminded himself that it was Cassia’s job to worry about that, not his, but he kept an eye on her all the same.

Annabeth rolled a blue candy between her fingers. “My stepmother should’ve come to check on me,” she said bitterly, and then, to Percy’s surprise, elaborated. “A few days before I ran away the first time, spiders started crawling out of my closet at night and biting me. Min, my stepmother, didn’t believe me. She pretty much just told me to grow up, and that I was dreaming.” She shrugged. “I decided I didn’t have time for people that didn’t care about me.”

“That’s terrifying,” Lucy said, wincing. “I never want to see spiders, plural, in my room ever.” Annabeth snorted and nodded in agreement. “Did you go and wake her up, or...?”

“Generally I screamed and cried until I fell asleep,” Annabeth said. “She never did more than knock on the door.”

“That’s some kind of gross neglect,” Amethyst said with disgust. “That should have been like, super concerning. She didn’t even come in?” Annabeth shook her head, and Amethyst directed her next words to Cassia. “That’s gotta be a rule somewhere, right? Parents must investigate if their child screams at night?”

“That’s somewhere in the category of due diligence,” Cassia agreed. Annabeth shrugged.

“She was just annoyed that I was waking the twins,” she said. “They were toddlers around then, so all of her attention was on them.”

“No excuse,” Amethyst said firmly.

“Where was your dad?” Lucy asked. “You get along with him, don’t you?”

Annabeth shrugged and made a so-so motion. “Pretty bad by most people’s standards,” she said, “but pretty good by St. Joan’s standards, I guess. He was working away from home. Min wouldn’t let me call him.”

“And they stayed married after this?” Amethyst asked incredulously. Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t they?”

“It kinda sounds like she pushed you into running away,” Ruya said. “I don’t think there are a lot of good parents that would’ve forgiven their spouse for that.”

Annabeth stayed quiet for a moment, visibly brooding, and then said, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” and ate her yellow M&M.

They went around a few more times. Nico started to struggle after a couple of rounds, explaining that he just didn’t have a lot of adults in his life, and Cassia reassured him that it was okay as long as he tried. Annabeth was reserved too, like the response to her last story had spooked her. Percy tried to focus on putting his own effort in – the authority-related exercises were usually the most important ones for him.

A little more than halfway through, Violetta finally broke her relative silence. She flashed a blue M&M between two fingers.

“Took two schools and three counselors to find one that listened to me,” she said quietly. “First time I told someone what Dad was doing was when I was nine. It could have stopped then. I should have been taken out of there then.”

Percy’s stomach turned in discomfort and sympathy. Violetta never said exactly what her dad had done to her, but she’d alluded to enough to make Percy’s mind go places he kind of wished it hadn’t.

“What the hell are counselors even for if they’re not going to listen?” Amethyst snapped. The session was wearing on her, indignation flaring up with each story. “What kind of nine year old would make that up?”

“I wasn’t very specific,” Violetta conceded, avoiding looking at anyone. “He probably thought...” She faltered, then sighed. “No. I don’t know what he thought.” She glanced up and met Annabeth’s eyes. “What?”

Annabeth startled, looking uncharacteristically uncertain, but after a moment she asked, “Why didn’t you run away?”

“World’s a scary place,” Violetta said simply. “I don’t know how you had the guts to run away and keep running away. I had food, a bed, toys, parents that loved me... why would I run away?” She shook her head, and the bitterness in her voice strengthened. “I didn’t understand anything.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Lucy said. “You were a kid. How could you have known?”

“Known what?”

“Lots of things,” she said. “There’s just a lot kids don’t know. Where you could’ve gone for help. What was happening, how it would affect you as you grew up. That sort of thing.” She shrugged. “I mean... that’s what makes kids vulnerable, right? That they just don’t know?”

“Betrayal of trust,” Nico blurted out, and crossed his arms defensively when they looked at him. “That’s basically it, right? Kids trust people they shouldn’t, because they don’t know any better, and they don’t have a lot of other options. I know... I know I did that a lot.”

Violetta considered that for a moment, and then nodded decisively. “Yeah.” Then, to Annabeth, she added, “What you asked- that was kind of what I was talking about this morning. Why I wasn’t more proactive. It seems so stupid now.”

Annabeth held her gaze, the moment stretching on, and then said abruptly, “If it helps – running away was a bad choice. I got lucky, found some friends. I wouldn’t have lasted long on my own. It was foolish of me to think I would.”

“It kind of does help,” Violetta admitted, and then ate her M&M and closed her eyes. Percy recognized the subtle motions of a relaxation exercise as she tensed and untensed.

Around and around. Like the year before, Percy found himself talking mainly about teachers – warning signs they’d missed, times they’d been unintentionally cruel because they didn’t understand. After a while, he recalled the stride he’d made last time, and made the deliberate decision to try and do it again.

“I wish Mom hadn’t sent me back to school this year,” he said, playing with a yellow M&M. “I get why she did it, ‘cause it was the same reason I went along with it – we thought it’d be good for me to get back into a routine. But looking back, I wasn’t even close to ready for it, and I wish someone had seen that before I started, like, getting sent to the nurse’s office for stress-vomiting.”

Nico stared at him. “Seriously? You got out of that place and then went to school?”

Percy shrugged, embarrassed. “It’s what I’ve done after every other summer.”

“It’s really hard to know when to deprioritize school,” Lucy offered, serious and solemn. “It seems like such a big deal, you know? I mean, it is a big deal. So it’s hard to recognize when you need to let it go.”

Ruya nodded. “That’s your whole future,” she said. “That’s what everyone says. You stop going to school, you’re throwing your life away.” She fiddled with her sleeve. “But there are other ways to throw your life away too.” She glanced up. “Are you mad at her about it?”

Percy shook his head. “I know why she did it,” he repeated. “And I guess we’re both so used to school being a massive pain anyway that we didn’t really realize this year was so much worse. I’ve always struggled a lot with school.”

“Sounds godawful,” Annabeth muttered. “I want no part of it.”

Percy laughed. “Yeah. Wish I could’ve just taught myself. Would’ve been easier.”

He let out a breath, decided that was enough, and passed the buck.

Chapter Text

Percy had agreed to the joint session without hesitation, pleased to hear that Nico was finally getting into personal stuff with Eddie, but now that it had started, he realized he was anxious. He wished that he’d thought to bring Fang, but instead braced his heels on the edge of his seat and played with a bubble-pop toy he’d found on Eddie’s shelf.

Nico, at least, looked just as nervous, clearly embarrassed to have been the catalyst, and kneading a blue stress ball that swelled with bright green bubbles when he squeezed it.

“Careful, I popped one of those once,” Percy said without thinking. “Super messy.”

Startled, Nico let out a snort and relaxed a little, and Raine and Eddie exchanged amused looks before Eddie spoke.

“Nico, do you want to tell Percy what we were talking about, or should I?” he asked.

Nico grimaced immediately. “I’ll do it.” He glanced at Percy, looking uncomfortable. “Uh, I didn’t really want to talk about Tartarus yet, so I was telling him about how we knew each other. Which meant talking about that year I was making you chase me.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” Percy reminded him. “I was worried, is all. Um, what about it?”

Nico crossed and uncrossed his arms before giving in. “I never apologized for that,” he said abruptly, without looking up. “Or for anything, really. I wanted to say, well... after everything, we’re even.” He met Percy’s eyes. “That’s all.”

“Can you explain what you mean?” Eddie coaxed before Percy could reply. “It sounds like you’re talking about more than just one incident.”

Nico scowled, but after another sideways glance at Percy, he gave in. “Percy’s done me a lot of favors,” he said, “and I’ve caused him a lot of trouble.”

“Like what?” Eddie prompted. Nico huffed and looked at Percy.

“You know,” he said to Percy. Percy smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head.

“I do know,” he admitted, letting his feet drop back to the floor. “At least, I know what was important to me. But, uh, what was important to you might be different. That’s why we gotta talk about it and stuff.”

“Gods, fine,” Nico grumbled, and shifted in place like he was trying to get comfortable. He crossed and uncrossed his arms again, then looked away, color rising to his cheeks. “I’m... I’m sorry for blaming you for Bianca’s death, and for making you promise to keep her safe. You tried to tell me you couldn’t make that promise. I should’ve listened.”

The words were heartfelt enough that Percy could tell this wasn’t the first time Nico had thought about this, and he softened his voice the best he could.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You were a kid, and you hadn’t been through the stuff you have now. Nothing wrong with being naïve at that age.”

Nico grunted, still not looking at him, and crossed his arms again. He left them that way this time. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk to you in the labyrinth. All you did that whole time was try to help me.” He tapped his knee restlessly without looking over. “And... and for selling you out to my dad. I didn’t know he was gonna do that to you.”

“I know you didn’t,” Percy reassured him. “I forgave you as soon as I knew you didn’t mean it.”

Nico nodded stiffly. “And I’m sorry for lying about knowing you, in New Rome,” he said. He grimaced and looked at Eddie. “Do I really gotta do that again but with things I’m grateful for?”

“You’re trying to clear the air between you,” Eddie reminded him. “If you leave things unsaid now, they’ll continue to bother you.”

Nico sighed, but he looked at Percy. “Thanks for... uh, for saving me from, from the giants.” His voice wavered slightly, making Percy’s heart clench in sympathy. “I didn’t think anyone was coming. And, uh, thanks for taking on the prophecy. I know you didn’t have a choice and all, but... we both know I was next. That would’ve sucked.” He took a careful breath. “And... thanks for getting my dad a throne on Olympus. I know that wasn’t for me, but... it meant a lot. The cabin at camp, too.”

“Anytime,” he said to Nico. “I mean it. You need help, you can always come to me. Okay?”

Nico’s already pink cheeks darkened further, and he nodded without looking at him.

“Percy,” Raine broke in for the first time, making Percy glance over. “You had some things you wanted to thank Nico for as well, didn’t you?”

Percy winced, crossed his arms over his chest, and nodded. “Yeah.” He looked at Nico, who looked away again, clearly still uncomfortable. “I never thanked you for doing all that research into the Achilles curse,” he said quietly. “That must’ve been really hard, with so little to go off of.”

“Not really,” Nico mumbled. “Just had to talk to Achilles’ mom, ask what she did.”

Both Eddie and Raine did a weird thing with their faces that made Percy laugh quietly, making Nico glance over and then snort. Both of them regained composure quickly enough, but apparently Nico’s powers over the dead were enough to throw even them.

“Still,” Percy said. “Don’t get me wrong, I was scared to death of the Styx, but that idea saved my ass a dozen times over. I don’t know if I could’ve gotten so many campers through the siege without it. I don’t know if I would’ve gotten through without it. So thanks. Really.” Nico relaxed enough to make Percy smile. “And thanks for talking to Bob about me. I’m told you had nothing but nice things to say.” Nico snorted, and Percy managed a grin back. “I know you said I didn’t have to, but... um, I didn’t really know what I was getting into, when I let go. Bob... Bob made all the difference.”

Nico hesitated, then exhaled, slow and careful, and nodded. “Not like I had a lot of people to talk to,” he mumbled. Eddie cleared his throat, and Nico grimaced but made what was apparently the expected amendment. “You’re... you’re welcome.”

Percy gave him a relieved grin, and then made a bold move.

“And I’m sorry about Bianca,” he said quietly. “Even if you don’t blame me anymore... well, it still really sucks for you. I know you loved her a lot.”

Nico’s eyes glimmered wetly, and he grit his teeth against it and gave Percy a stiff nod.

“What happened to her?” he asked suddenly. “You... uh, no one ever told me.”

Percy mouthed a silent oh, then gave in instantly. “When we were passing through Arizona, we had to cross the Junkyard of the Gods,” he said. Nico visibly braced himself, lifting his eyes to meet Percy’s gaze. Percy struggled to hold it. “A defective automaton, Talos, woke up while we were in there, and it, uh, it had a maintenance hatch on its foot. Bianca went in to shut Talos down from inside, and... it fell apart while she was still in there.”

He left it at that, and Nico closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He rocked on his heels, and then, after a moment, got up and disappeared into a corner – a tucked-away nook half out of sight. Percy fidgeted, listening to Nico’s choppy breath, and after a few minutes, Nico returned, eyes slightly reddened.

“You liked Bianca a lot, didn’t you?” Nico said, surprising Percy. He looked away. “I, uh... when I was younger it didn’t make sense to me, why you felt so obligated to look after me. We’d barely talked. But it was for Bianca, wasn’t it?”

Percy blinked, staring at Nico in surprise until Nico looked away and squirmed, and he finally had to be honest. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I never thought about it.” He looked down and popped the bubble toy a few times. “I did like her. For it being her first quest, Bianca did amazing. She was really talented.” His voice softened with grief. “She was brave.”

He didn’t have anything else to say, he realized – he hadn’t known her well. Nico swallowed thickly, and for a few moments, both of them let the silence lie.

“Nico mentioned taking on a prophecy,” Eddie said eventually, when neither of them moved to break it. They looked up, while Raine tensed for a moment. “Can one of you clarify what he meant by that?”

Nico grimaced again, but he took it on without looking at Percy. “There was, uh, a prophecy,” he said, looking at Eddie. He grabbed a set of worry beads lying on a nearby shelf and played with them. “I never found out the details. But it said, more or less, that the next Big Three kid to turn sixteen would make a choice that would save or end the world.” He rolled the beads around his fingers. “This was like, a big deal. The gods were fighting about it, titans were trying to take advantage of it. It was a lot of pressure. Lot of tension. Percy took the fall, but, uh, it would’ve been me next, if something happened to him. I didn’t want that.”

“Course,” Percy said. “I wouldn’t have done that to you. And, um...” He scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “This is gonna sound weird, but I mean it in a good way, I promise.” Nico raised an eyebrow and gave him a nod. “That... it gave me a really good reason not to kill myself before I turned sixteen. It just wasn’t an option. I don’t really know what I would’ve done otherwise.”

Emotions flickered across Nico’s face, conflicted and uncertain, before he settled on a curt nod, looking uncomfortable again. “That’s good, I guess. Glad I could help by just existing.”

Percy smiled at him, then glanced at Eddie. “Uh, was there anything else?”

“Was there anything else you wanted to discuss with Percy?” Eddie asked Nico. Nico shook his head.

“Did you want to discuss something else with Nico?” Raine asked. Percy started to do the same, then hesitated. He looked at Nico.

“I didn’t start to realize this until last year,” he said quietly, “but I think I’ve been misinterpreting our relationship for a long time. Misreading your signals, probably giving off ones that didn’t make sense to you.” Nico bristled. “Not like that- well, not just like that. But, uh, I still kind of thought you hated me until this summer.”

“Not a word,” Nico warned him. “I haven’t told him.”

Percy was surprised, but he nodded after a moment. “Gotcha.”

Nico nodded firmly, and took another few seconds to process what Percy had actually said. “...Seriously, though? That phase lasted, like, six months. It’s been years. I... I thought we were getting along.”

Percy winced at the hurt tone he developed toward the end and nodded. “Yeah, I’m realizing that now. I... probably just thought that ‘cause I still felt so guilty about Bianca.” He met Nico’s eyes. “It’s not your fault I thought that. That’s just how my brain works. But I wanted you to know- if you’re looking back and I was acting weird, that’s probably why.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Nico said dryly, “but now I gotta.”

Percy chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“Oh, gods, it’s the hot potato ball,” Nico said, when he walked into the playroom. Cassia chuckled, hands on the ball in her lap.

“Yes, it is,” she said. “But it’s Friday, so it’ll be a lighter activity than usual.”

“Friday is self-esteem stuff, right?” Nico asked. Cassia nodded.

“Are you ready for today, Percy?” she asked. Percy hesitated, thinking, and then nodded firmly.

“I feel good about it this week,” he told her, earning a warm smile in return.

While everyone else was settling down, Annabeth went to Cassia.

“I don’t think I need to be in these sessions,” she said.

Cassia blinked, but turned her full attention on Annabeth. “What makes you say that?”

“I’m already too proud as a person,” she said. “I don’t need to spend time inflating my ego, and I don’t think it would be good for me.”

“Imagine having an excess of self-confidence,” Violetta murmured to Lucy, who hid a guilty giggle behind her hand. Cassia gave her a stern look, and she winced and looked down. “Sorry, Annabeth. It’s just surprising, you know, here.”

Annabeth managed a halfhearted smile. “Yeah, I guess it is.” She looked at Cassia. “So?”

“I’d like you to try for at least a few weeks,” Cassia said, keeping steady eyes on Annabeth. “If, after that, you and Mai agree that it’s unnecessary or detrimental, we can discuss it again. Even if you’re prone to pride, this time should still help you work toward having a healthy sense of self-confidence. You may have weak spots that you never noticed before.”

Annabeth sighed, seeming faintly irritated, but she nodded. “Fine. I’ll give it a try.”

Cassia smiled at her. “Thank you.” She returned her attention to the room as Annabeth sat back down, looking resigned. “Before we start, let’s go around the room and check up on each other...”

Percy listened with half an ear, leaning back on the wall to follow the others’ progress. Nico had been thrown by this exercise the first couple of times, but he seemed to have gotten used to it. Annabeth still looked exasperated.

“A good thing that happened is that Violetta helped me with an art assignment,” Lucy said, earning an embarrassed but pleased look from Violetta. “A bad thing that happened is that I slept worse than usual.”

“Worse than usual for you is kind of impressive,” Nico said. Lucy smiled wryly.

“Isn’t it?”

She looked at Annabeth, who crossed her arms and leaned back on the wall with a sigh.

“A good thing that happened is... I ate a good breakfast this morning,” she decided. “A bad thing is that I had a nightmare and couldn’t fall asleep again.”

She looked at Mike.

“A good thing is that I realized last night that I’m excited to play baseball again,” he said, slow and thoughtful. “A bad thing is that I also got really homesick.”

Nico. “A good thing is... Lucy and I had a really good conversation last night. A bad thing is that I was grumpy afterward and couldn’t figure out why.”

Around the room they went, performing the most rote part of group. Percy listened with half an ear and lounged against the side of a shelf, rolling a bouncy ball under his palm.

“Very good, thank you,” Cassia said, when they’d all finished. “Now, I’ve got the hot potato ball here, but this is Friday so we’re trying to make you feel good. We’re going to talk about times you’ve felt self-confident, and why you felt that way. Sound good?” A few of them hummed in reserved agreement, and Cassia smiled. “Then let’s go.”

She tossed the ball to Mike, and then pressed play on the radio. It landed in Nico’s hands first, and he wrinkled his nose at it.

“Well, shit,” he muttered. He dropped the ball into his lap. “I didn’t think I was gonna be first. Uh, I don’t really understand the prompt.”

“I’d like you to think back and find a time when you felt good about yourself,” Cassia explained. “When you were proud of yourself for doing a good job, or maybe for doing something kind.”

“Mm.” Nico leaned back to contemplate the hot potato ball. “I guess... last year I convinced my dad to help Percy with something. I was really pleased with myself then.” He glanced up and hesitated, looking uncomfortable, but finally elaborated, “I’m not exactly my dad’s favorite kid, and it was a pretty big favor, so I wasn’t sure I’d be able to talk him into it.”

“That is kind of weirdly validating, isn’t it?” Amethyst mused, crossing her legs. “Asking someone for help sucks, but convincing someone to help someone else... it’s just different.”

Nico nodded. “I wouldn’t have pushed like that if it was for me,” he admitted frankly. “But standing up for someone else made me more confident, I guess.”

He looked at Cassia, who smiled at him before pressing play again, filling the room with pop music. Nico tossed the ball to Ruya, and it went on around the room. This time when Cassia called a halt, it was in Violetta’s hands. She bit her lip.

“I felt confident... when I started TA-ing for Mrs. Rosen,” she decided. “I was happy that she’d asked for my help, and that I turned out to be good at it. Helping clean up the art room made me feel good, and I liked being able to spend time with Mrs. Rosen after school.”

“Good teachers are the best,” Lucy said wistfully. “There’s not a lot of them, but I feel like a really good teacher can make you feel so much more confident in yourself.”

Percy nodded. “I feel like it’s a competency thing,” he said, thinking of Chiron. “You find a teacher that makes you feel good about your strengths and doesn’t make you feel bad about your weaknesses, that’s like... life-changing.”

Violetta nodded. “Mrs. Rosen was that kind of teacher,” she said with conviction. “She was the first person I confided in that actually listened.”

Around and around the ball went, each of them sharing stories about past successes and good friends. Annabeth talked about taking over some of the lessons at camp, and her first independent ventures into the real world. Mike told them about babysitting his cousins, which he’d never mentioned before but apparently did often. Ruya brought up their sleepover the week before, when she’d shown them all her favorite magic tricks.

Finally, the ball landed in Percy’s hands at the last beat of a song, and he rolled it over thoughtfully, picking through memories.

“I was really proud of myself when Chiron asked me to start teaching swordplay to the younger campers,” Percy said at last. The memory made him feel warm. “Nothing had ever come so naturally to me before, and some of the kids he had me tutor were ones that had been at camp longer than I had. I was thrilled to be so good at something that I could teach it to other people.”

“You get to use swords at your camp?” Amethyst asked. “Can I come?”

Percy laughed, shaking his head even as warmth crashed over him. “Sorry, the entry requirements are kind of specific.”

“That really is amazing though,” Mike said earnestly. “Being good enough at something to teach it, that’s really impressive. You and Annabeth are super cool for that.” He grinned. “And being good at stuff like swords and Ancient Greek, that’s like, extra cool.”

Percy smiled brightly, pleased to find himself nearly preening under the praise. “Thanks!”

He passed the ball to Lucy.

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Percy said to Leo, when he managed to catch him alone. He held out an envelope for Leo to take. Raising an eyebrow, Leo did. “I meant to give you this last weekend, but, um, something came up. Anyway, this is for Calypso.”

Recognition glinted in Leo’s eyes, and he looked down. “I don’t know whether to hug you or smack you. You know she’s gonna be disappointed, right?”

“I’m doing my best, okay?” Percy said tersely. “Mental health crisis, severe suicidal ideation, extreme trauma, any of this ringing a bell?” Leo flinched, guilt flashing across his face, and Percy took a deep breath and held it for a moment, forcing himself to cool down. “Sorry, that was mean. I’m... dealing with a lot right now, so a lot of stuff is falling by the wayside whether I want it to or not. I know this really sucks for Calypso.”

“No, I get it, that was pretty tactless of me,” Leo said, though he was still projecting his discomfort. “Thanks for the letter. Um, what does it say?”

Percy shrugged. “You can read it if you want. Told her I’m sorry for not following up, explain what was happening so she knows it wasn’t ‘cause I didn’t care enough. And, uh, I tell her why I’m not ready to see her yet.”

Undisguised curiosity sparked in Leo’s eyes. “Can I read it now?”

“Sure,” Percy said. He sat down with Leo by a nearby tree and watched Leo carefully peel up the sticker Percy had used to seal the letter. For the next few minutes, he fidgeted while Leo struggled through the letter, turning his head back and forth like that would make the letters clearer.

Leo’s expression slowly changed as he worked through the letter, but it was hard for Percy to read exactly what he was seeing. Finally, he looked up, his face wearing more years than it had earlier.

“Are you mad at her?” Leo asked, quieter than Percy was used to hearing from him.

“Kinda,” Percy admitted, unwilling to lie. “I mean- I do understand that she didn’t mean it. She was just saying stuff because she was upset. If it had been me that got hurt, I’d probably have forgiven her already.” He looked at Leo. “But it was Annabeth. She...” He bit his tongue, forcing back the urge to try and make Leo understand how awful it had been. It looked like Leo got the idea anyway. “It’s not that I never want to see her again, or anything. But the next time we see each other, she’s gonna be angry and hurt, and I’m gonna have to be all apologetic and contrite and stuff, and I, I can’t do that right now.”

Too tired, too worried, and too sad, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure it would get across what he meant. He was getting better, but his heart still felt heavy.

“I’ll tell her,” Leo promised him, closing the envelope back up. He pressed down on the sticker to seal it again. “She really is worried about you, by the way. I mean, she’s trying to pretend not to be, but she doesn’t hide it well.”

Percy was surprised by how grateful he felt for that – both Calypso’s concern and Leo’s telling him. “I’m alright. Raine says I’m making really good progress.” He smiled, trying to be reassuring. “Even starting to forgive myself for how bad I did on this quest.”

Leo looked baffled. “What are you talking about?”

Percy’s smile wavered. “Um, the ten million fights that I lost?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Leo asked. Flustered, Percy looked away, and Leo straightened up, looking suddenly serious again. “Dude, you won, like... I don’t know, most of the fights on that quest.” Percy stared at him blankly. “On the sea? Mediterranean? Guarding the boat in ten hour shifts? Remember that stuff?”

“Oh.” Heat spread across Percy’s face. “I don’t think those count. They weren’t really fights.”

“Yeah, because you ended them before they even started,” Leo said, with startlingly forceful conviction. “In case you didn’t notice, you fight like a god. You were fighting god-level opponents half the time. They would’ve wiped me out in half a second, and you were fighting them.”

It was so unexpected, so clearly sincere that a lump swelled up in Percy’s throat, and he buried his face in his hands before Leo could see him tearing up. Bent over double, he took deep, careful breaths, trying to steady himself again.

“...Um, did I say something wrong?”

“N-no,” Percy managed, without looking up. “That... that means a lot. Thanks.”

“Oh. Uh, no problem?” A few more minutes passed in silence while Percy grappled with his emotions, and it clearly made Leo uncomfortable. “Come on, look at the rest of us. Hell, look at me. You think I’m gonna judge you for losing? I’m just a mechanic that can make fire.”

The self-deprecation was enough to make Percy stir, and he lifted his head to look at Leo, still rubbing at his eyes.

“Hey, hey, no,” he protested, more gentle than objecting. “Frank and Hazel told me about how you did in Rome – they basically sang your praises, you were really clever there. And your plan against Gaia was like, genius. You must have spent so much time thinking about it and setting things up and everything.”

Leo’s grin flickered, insecurity peeking through. “Yeah. Mechanic.” He looked down. “You don’t have to lie to me. Most of what I did was just, like, fixing the Argo and stuff.” He shrugged. “Someone had to do it, I guess.”

Percy studied him with concern, and without thinking shifted into support mode. “Yeah, someone did have to do it,” he said firmly. “Listen, we could argue all day about how much else you did, but I need you to understand how fucking amazing the Argo is.”

“I know,” Leo said flippantly, reaching into his tool belt to fiddle with some chain links. “I built it, didn’t I? Little surprises and all.”

“Yeah, you did,” Percy said. “Leo, you thought of like, everything. We didn’t have to worry about food, shelter, or transportation once in the entire quest.” Aside from Tartarus. He opted not to mention that. “That’s incredible. My first quest, we walked into three different traps because we were hungry and tired. We hitched a ride in an animal smugglers’ truck. We stole clothes from an abandoned water park because we’d been wearing the same dirty outfits for days. The Argo has a laundry room.” Leo mumbled something inaudible. “You’re not just a mechanic, that’s not what I’m trying to say. But I would’ve killed to have something like the Argo on my other quests. Even if that had been all you did for us, it would’ve been more than enough.”

Leo shrugged, looking flustered. “I’d been thinking about it for years,” he mumbled, pulling out more chain links to form a sheet of chainmail. “I always thought it was a fun idea, having a flying house-boat. But I guess a part of me just knew.”

“That’s incredible,” Percy said again, softer this time. “Thank you. You saved our butts with that.”

Leo’s cheeks darkened, but after a minute of wavering with indecision, he relaxed and gave Percy a small grin. “Course I did. I’m awesome.”

Percy took more care setting up this scene than most of the others. He borrowed a plastic tub and some purple glitter from Lucas, and filled the tub with about an inch of tap water. He set that aside for later, grabbed the witch doll Sally had brought, and started to shred its dress with a pair of scissors.

“This is kind of when all the stress boiled over,” he explained to Raine without looking at her. “I get that, really. All the pain, the terror, the despair and exhaustion and stuff, it was gonna come out somehow. It was just... scary.”

“I can’t imagine,” Raine murmured. Percy glanced up to see a deep empathy in her eyes, and relaxed a little.

“You can tell me to stop if you want,” he added, looking back down. He set the scissors aside, grabbed a gel pen, and sketched red lines onto the hag doll’s face. “I’ll get it.”

“It seems like you have a particular goal for today,” Raine pointed out.

Percy took a deep breath and nodded stiffly. He set the red pen aside and put the hag doll down outside of the tub.

“You can’t tell her,” he said. “You can’t tell Annabeth.”

“Nothing you say leaves this room.”

“...She made me stop hurting Akhlys, back then,” he said quietly, fixing his gaze on his hands. “I didn’t want to. I wanted-” He cut himself off, hunching over, and had to swallow before he continued. “I’m still so angry. I, I want to try and get that out of me. I’m not using one of Eddie’s dolls because I might break it.”

He chanced a glance back up and found Raine studying him, contemplative, like she was considering the merits of the idea.

“It’s okay, right?” he pleaded without meaning to, shifting defensively. “I, I mean, I’m not really hurting anyone. It’s just a doll. So it’s okay.”

After a long moment, Raine gave him a nod.

“I can see this is very important to you,” she said. “It’s not something I would ordinarily encourage, but I’ll make an exception under the circumstances.”

Percy relaxed and went back to setting up. At last, he set all three dolls inside the tub – Harry, Luna, and the hag. With a thought, he exiled the purple glitter to one corner of the tub, tucking it away for later.

He picked up the hag and tried to make his voice scratchy.

“We have reached the edge of Chaos,” he said for Akhlys. “Below us is the abyss from which the universe was born. No mortal has ever before been so close to it.” He picked up his own figure. “Do we get the Death Mist or not?” He bounced Akhlys. “Foolish mortals! The Death Mist is the final breath before you meet your end!” Under his breath and offside, he tacked on, “Or something,” and heard Raine stifle a guilty giggle. “Now that I have given it to you, you must die!” He bounced his figure. “Fuck’s sake, not again!”

Not interested in going into detail about how the fight went, Percy contented himself with growling and bashing the figures against each other a few times. Akhlys knocked both him and Annabeth down and stomped on them, and only when he felt sort of ready did he finally move on.

“Hey, cheerful, over here!” he said, making his figure wave its sword. “Yeah, you! Smiles! Joybean! You!” He switched to Akhlys. “Rragh! How dare you!”

He took a deep breath.

With a flex of his will, he let the water drop from the sides of the plastic tub, and the purple glitter came rushing toward him. He made his figure start coughing, then fall down. His memory was getting fuzzy again, but he dismissed it and said for Akhlys, “Which poison do you want to end your life?” He switched to himself and made his figure cough a few more times. “Damn it... no... not like this, please...” He twitched the figure. “No!”

Finally. He took control of the water and rushed the glitter toward Akhlys, and with some satisfaction, he wiggled her and made her scream.

“What is this?” he squeaked for her, and then twitched his own figure. “Poison, remember? Tough luck, Akhlys. It’s mine now.”

He let go of both figures and moved Annabeth’s out of the way, behind his own. Then he pressed his palms to the floor, leaned down, and closed his eyes.

Percy remembered the despair that had swallowed him, on his knees before Akhlys. He remembered the triumph and glee in her eyes, the sickly sweet smell of the poison, Annabeth’s corpse-like image. The dizziness, the delirium, the burning pain with every breath. He remembered the dark rage rising inside him, swallowing him up.

He clenched his fists, opened his eyes, and glared at the doll like it was Akhlys herself.

The next few minutes were sort of hazy. With a force of will, he had the water wrap around the hag doll and throw it back and forth into the walls of the plastic tub, launching it with as much force as he could muster – enough that the tub slid a few inches to and fro.

He thought of the sound of her cries, the broken sobbing that sucked the hope out of him. He smacked his fists together, dragging the doll to the bottom of the tub and forcing the water to roil over top of it, as if to push it even lower, and slammed it against the bottom a couple of times.

He thought of her cackle, her glee at their gullibility and her own presumed triumph. He split his fists back apart, opened them, and made a threatening grasping motion. The glittery water rushed through the doll, forcing itself inside and bursting back out under the pressure.

“Percy.”

Percy looked up, eyes wide and breathing hard. He felt like a wild thing, an animal, and it took a minute to focus on Raine.

“With the doll,” Raine directly softly, nodding at the abandoned Harry Potter figure. Percy blinked at her, stupefied.

“W-what?” he croaked.

“Trust me.”

Percy hesitated. He didn’t really want to; he wanted to keep throwing the doll around, smashing it into things until it broke apart. But finally, he sighed and picked his doll back up.

“Argh!” he said for his doll, trying to channel his rage and hate through the tiny medium. He made his doll smack Akhlys a few times, punching and slapping her until she fell. “Ahhhh!” The doll kicked Akhlys in the gut and then stomped on her a couple of times, and then started kicking again, Percy’s other hand pinning Akhlys in place. “Fuck you! Do you have any idea what we went through to get here!” He stomped on Akhlys some more, then picked her up and flung her out of the plastic tub. “You love misery, do you, Ms. Goddess? You don’t fucking know misery! I know misery!” He stepped on Akhlys’ face. “Do you like this? Do you like being miserable? I’ll fucking show you miserable!” He kicked her again. “You can breathe poison now! You can drown! I hate you! I hate you! Die!” Stomp, stomp. “Die! Die!”

He only had a split second’s warning before tears welled up in his eyes, and he dropped both dolls to cover his face, breath hitching and catching. A lump swelled in his throat, and he let himself sob and keen.

“What’s wrong with me?” he heard himself ask Raine, rocking a little in an attempt to comfort himself. “What’s wrong with me?”

He thought Raine said something, but he didn’t quite catch it. After a minute, Raine sat down beside him and slipped a comforting arm around his shoulders, and Percy bypassed the reserved half-hug to latch on much more desperately. She responded without missing a beat, wrapping her arms around him and making soft, soothing sounds.

Percy fell apart for what felt like the umpteenth time since the end of the quest, and sobbed brokenly against her while she murmured and swayed and held him together. It took so long for him to stop that the door opened twice, and Raine had to quietly shoo away the concerned visitors. But eventually he stopped gasping for breath, then stopped whimpering, and finally relaxed, feeling weak and wrung-out.

“Better?” Raine asked.

“Mmhm.” Reluctantly, he pulled away, wiping at his eyes. His breath was still coming heavy. “I, I think so.” He rubbed his cheek. “Sorry for breaking down. Again. I don’t know why I keep doing that. I, I don’t cry when I’m angry.”

“You don’t cry because of your anger,” Raine agreed. “But you use anger to protect yourself from more painful emotions. Once you burn through that...” She reached forward and squeezed his hand. “It’s the same thing that happened when you screamed at the gods. You let your anger run its course, and that let you uncover deeper emotions. What did you find?”

Percy rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Pain and fear,” he said quietly. “Despair.” He looked up. “By... by the time we got to Akhlys, the, the real world didn’t even seem real anymore. The real world was Tartarus, and everything else was a dream. I didn't see how we could ever get out.”

“You’re free now,” Raine told him. “You’re not there anymore.”

“Yeah,” Percy managed, breath hitching. “Fucking miracle.”

“Can you tell me what really happened?” Raine asked, when Percy didn’t say anything else.

Percy nodded vaguely and sat back, looking at the half-finished scene.

“Akhlys is the goddess of misery,” Percy told her, digging into the memory with some reluctance. “I’ve told you about the presence of immortals, right?” He picked up the doll head and thumbed the red lines. “Akhlys’ aura was... grief, hopelessness. It was suffocating. I, I don’t know why that made me want to hurt her.”

“It’s not unusual to try and cope with your pain by passing it on to someone else,” Raine said. “It’s how cycles of abuse and trauma get perpetuated. A traumatic event takes your power away from you, and you try to get it back by taking it from someone else.”

“I don’t want to do that,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to make myself feel better by hitting people.”

“I know,” she said. “I believe you. These were... extreme circumstances, to say the least, and the goddess of misery isn’t exactly a vulnerable party.” She waved at the tub of water. “Would you like to continue playing out the scene, or would you prefer to tell me?”

Percy stared at the tub for a moment, and then sighed.

“I should probably just tell you,” he said quietly. “It’s, um...” He cleared his throat. “It’s not something I can ape, you know? It’s too...” He made a ‘small’ gesture with his hands. “I don’t think it would translate. I wanted to do it this way so...” He tilted his head toward the tub.

“Tell me,” Raine requested softly.

Percy nodded shakily, and then went to get Fang, abandoning the play-scene altogether.

“I’m not proud of what I did, okay?” he said to Raine, hugging the toy between his knees for comfort. “It was like… horrific. I know that. I don’t know what got into me. I, I mean… I didn’t think I was capable of something like that.”

“Desperation can bring out both the best and the worst in us,” Raine said. “It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. You were scared.”

Percy didn’t answer. “Akhlys is the goddess of poison as well as misery, and she summoned a lake of it around me. And I, I was just so angry. I was so tired of how hard everything was in Tartarus.” He took a deep breath and hugged Fang tighter, tucking the stuffed toy close to his chest. “I hadn’t seen a drop of water since the Cocytus. I’ve never needed a boost more than I did in the pit, but it was dry as bone. But the, the poison was flowing, you know? It moved like water. So I told myself that there must be water in it.” He shrugged. “I mean… I know it doesn’t work like that. But what choice did I have? I had to try.”

“What happened?”

“It worked,” Percy murmured. “I took control of the poison from her, and I sent it back her way. Then…”

The last confession caught in his throat. He turned at an angle away from Raine, unable to look at her directly.

“The… the poison made her eyes water,” Percy said softly. “Real water, for the first time in days. I drowned her with it. Sent it into her nose and throat and... her eyes.”

Raine took a slow, careful breath. “Did she die?”

“No,” Percy said, indifferent. “Annabeth stopped me pretty quick and made me let her go. She ran away.”

Unable to bear the silence, Percy looked up. Raine had pulled up her composure again, rendering her expression smooth and unreadable, and Percy was heartbreakingly grateful. No matter how she felt right now, she wasn’t making him see it.

“I, I just- wanted water,” he said lamely. “Water is all I’ve ever needed to get out of a bad situation. But Tartarus was so dry. I mean... Annabeth and I walked for hours, maybe days, and the only thing we had to drink was fire. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thirsty.”

Raine’s mouth formed a silent oh. “You were in pain.”

Percy nodded jerkily. “All of this was, was still in the sulfur air and everything, you know? Every breath made my lungs burn and my throat blister. The rash was spreading across my face and arms again. I wanted firewater, and I resented wanting it. I’d been in so much pain for so long that it felt like part of me.”

“Three days straight, or thereabouts.” Percy nodded, relieved to see comprehension spread across Raine’s face and turn into empathy. “The inside of your head must have been a nightmare by then.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Gods, I didn’t know someone could feel so awful. I just... I wanted her to feel how I felt right then, every bit of the pain and fear and despair. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone like that before.”

“Was it truly about Akhlys?” Raine asked gently. “Or did she just happen to be nearby when you became overwhelmed?”

Percy hesitated, and thought, really thought, about what Akhlys had done to him and Annabeth. After a minute, he lowered his head and sighed.

“The second one,” he admitted. “I guess... I just wanted to punish someone for how I felt right then.”

“Do you think punishing someone would alleviate your suffering?” Raine asked.

“I’m pretty sure the correct answer is no,” Percy muttered. “But... yeah, it feels like that. That’s. That’s kind of what I want.”

“Of course,” Raine said, with a gentle empathy that was more of a balm to him than usual. “You went through an immense amount of trauma, and trauma is much easier to accept when you can identify the cause of your suffering. If you can blame someone else, you aren’t blaming yourself. Revenge fantasies are a fairly common feature of C-PTSD.”

Percy scrunched up his nose. “Where did the C come from?”

Raine gave him a rueful smile. “Complex PTSD. It’s somewhat different from regular PTSD in that it comes from trauma that takes place over an extended period of time, or multiple extremely traumatic events.” She shrugged. “It’s not a diagnosis I’d give you at this time, since you’re recovering well from what happened. If you were still in a state similar to where you’d been in when you first called me – difficulty controlling your emotions, feelings of hopelessness, extremely poor self-esteem – that would be C-PTSD.”

Percy winced. “Gotcha. Let’s not let that happen, yeah?”

Raine nodded. “How are you feeling now? What do you need?”

Percy closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. Breathe in, breathe out. After a minute, something occurred to him. “Can we try that tension thing? Um, somatic experiencing?”

He opened his eyes in time to see Raine blink, startled, and then she gave him an oddly pleased smile. “Of course. Can you sit and tell me where you’re feeling tense?”

Chapter Text

“It seems like your reaction to Akhlys bothered you more than Akhlys herself,” Raine said to Percy.

Percy shifted in place. “Can we go outside?”

“Of course.”

They headed outside. It was sprinkling, a light spray of rain across Percy’s face and arms, extra cold in the winter air. It soothed him immediately, and he turned them on the familiar path toward the forest.

“It didn’t bother me so much until Annabeth started having nightmares,” he said to Raine, hugging himself loosely. “I mean... it was just a fight, you know? Nyx was right afterward, and that shook me up a lot more, so Akhlys was practically an afterthought. But then Annabeth started waking up begging me not to hurt her.”

“Are you certain that’s what she’s saying?” Raine checked. “When she’s awake, does she seem nervous around you, or guarded?”

“Well... no.” Percy hugged himself tighter, carefully keeping his breath even, and tilted his head up to let the rain hit his face. “No, she... when we’re awake, it’s easy to feel safe together. That hasn’t changed. She still comes to me after nightmares, even. But she says stuff like... like ‘you can’t do that to me’ and ‘don’t, don’t, don’t.’”

“Those are both extremely vague sentiments, Percy,” Raine said gently. “They’ve been taken completely out of context. There are many things that those words could mean.”

“I guess...” he said, reluctant and unsure. They passed into the woods. “But how can I be sure? I can’t ask her about it.”

“Yes, you can,” Raine disagreed. “It sounds like this was a very significant event for the two of you. If you’re willing, I can ask Mai to propose the idea of a joint session to Annabeth when she thinks Annabeth is ready. She’ll need to process the event on her own first, just as you did, but we can try and get it in before you have to leave.”

Percy’s brow pinched. “Why do we have to process it on our own first?”

“You both had separate, and in some ways conflicting, reactions to that event,” Raine reminded him. “It would be unfair to ask you to process your anger and pain while being mindful of her fear, and it would be equally unfair to ask her to process her fear while being mindful of your insecurities. Once you’ve both processed your own emotions about the event, then you can attempt to reconcile them with each other.”

That made sense, and it actually made Percy feel a little better – like there wasn’t anything wrong with him having taken it differently from Annabeth. “Okay, I guess we can do that. What until then?”

“It sounds like while Annabeth was the catalyst for your discomfort, it’s taken on a life of its own,” Raine said. “How do you feel about your reaction to Akhlys now?”

Percy bit his cheek, tensing up despite himself. “I’m upset with myself,” he decided. “I should have had more self-control than that. I’d already won; I didn’t have to keep hurting her, and... and I don’t like that I did.”

“You think you went too far,” Raine said.

“Akhlys ran away from me,” Percy said quietly. “She’s a goddess, and I scared her so bad she tripped and fell on her face trying to get away.”

“What does that mean to you?”

“It makes me feel like the scariest thing in Tartarus,” he confessed, barely loud enough to carry. “Like... like I’m a monster that belongs in there.” He squeezed himself, tightening his anxious self-hug. “Luke tried to send me there after knowing me for only a couple of weeks. He told me I deserved to die in Tartarus. Maybe... what if he was right?”

Raine was quiet for a minute. “Percy,” she said at last, “which of your enemies do you think deserve to die in Tartarus?” Steel clamped around his chest, and she must have seen it because she continued, “Not the monsters. We’ve established that the experience isn’t as harrowing for them. But your human and divine enemies – Luke, Ethan, Ares, Hera – which of them do you think deserve to die in Tartarus?”

“None of them,” Percy admitted.

“Do you think Gabriel deserves to die in Tartarus?”

For a minute, spite and rage flashed through him, and he wanted to say yes. But then an image forced itself into his mind, crystal clear – Smelly Gabe with rashes blooming all over his skin, collapsing and gasping for air in the awful sulfur of Tartarus. The nausea hit so fast that it left him dizzy, and he had to sit down hard, folding over to forcefully regulate his breathing.

Raine sat down beside him and set a hand on his, and didn’t say anything as he calmed himself down. Crashing waves, sand in his mouth, the sound of the highway just out of sight. Campfire smoke and his mother’s laugh. Breathe.

Finally, he sat up, met her eyes, and shook his head mutely. Raine squeezed his hand.

“If none of them deserve to die like that,” she said, “why would you?”

“I don’t,” he said, conviction setting in now that he’d tried to imagine what crimes were worth that. “I don’t, I don’t.” He took a deep breath, and his eyes burned. “But then why did this happen to me?”

Raine pressed her thumb gently into the center of his palm, meeting his eyes calmly.

“One of the most important concepts in trauma therapy is meaning-making,” she said to him. “It’s not something we focused on last year because most of what we discussed fell into place quite naturally.” He blinked at her, confused. “In meaning-making, you decide where your trauma belongs in the story of your life. How did it change you? Where can you go from here? The goal is to go from asking why did this happen to what does this mean to me, and in doing so, you place that trauma where it belongs: not as the center of your world, but one life-changing event of the many you have and will live through.”

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?” Percy asked, with some bitterness.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Raine said. “I’m not denying that this quest was a significant and devastating blow to you. But recovery is a journey that will shape the rest of your life just as much.” Percy didn’t answer, biting his tongue uncertainly. “It’s okay if you’re not sure how to feel about it yet. Meaning-making is one of the last steps in the recovery process, and you still have a lot to work through before you reach that point. But I wanted you to know: we will get there. We will find a way to give you closure.”

He exhaled heavily. “Okay,” he decided. “I trust you.”

Raine gave him a warm, surprisingly grateful smile, and then sat back. “Are you ready to return to Akhlys?” He nodded. “What scares you about your behavior then?”

Percy sat upright too, studying the gaps between the trees in front of him as he tried to think. “I didn’t stop when she was beaten,” was what he settled on. “It wasn’t right, and I feel bad about it.”

“Why didn’t you stop?”

“Because...” He sighed. “Because I was scared and in pain, and I felt helpless. Hurting her made me feel powerful and in control.”

“Do you feel that way anymore?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I feel sick. I hate it. I hate what I did.”

“Why did it change?”

Percy’s brow furrowed, and he looked at Raine, trying to follow. He faltered as he understood, some of the tension draining out of him again. “Because... I’m not in danger anymore. I’m safe, and I’m not in pain.”

“Pain and fear make people different,” Raine told him. “Desperation sets in. Your animal brain overrules everything that makes you human – your values, your reasoning, your boundaries. That doesn’t say anything about who you are. It means that you were at your limit.”

“Annabeth didn’t do anything like that,” Percy said.

“Annabeth is a different person from you,” Raine replied. “I don’t know her well, so I can’t say what forces were at work in her through this trauma. But you have what we in the business call preexisting conditions.” Startled, Percy let out a laugh. Raine gave him a small smile. “Your mind is already familiar with these emotions, and it railroaded you to a familiar response. That the outburst was so dramatic is more a product of your circumstances than anything.”

“I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“You’ve never overreacted to a comparatively minor threat?” Raine asked. “For instance, hit a classmate for laughing behind your back, or for taking something of yours?”

Percy connected the dots. “Oh.”

Raine nodded. “The hindbrain doesn’t measure an appropriate response. It throws out whatever it thinks will make the threat disappear. You were facing a goddess, and you’d been in hell for days. Why would you throw in any less than everything you had?”

Percy let out a sigh, feeling a warm swell of relief start to soothe him. “I didn’t mean it,” he said softly. “I was scared, and I didn’t mean it.”

“Exactly.”

Percy took a deep breath, held it, and let it out before he nodded. “Alright.”

Raine smiled at him, soft and proud, and then said, “Now, unless there’s something specific you wanted to discuss, I think there are two ways we can proceed from here.” Percy hummed. “Since it came up during this subject, we can move on to discussing your temper, and what trauma you may still be struggling with in that respect.” Percy nodded absently. “Or, if you think you’re ready, we can try to push through the remainder of Tartarus over the next few days or weeks. You mentioned several times that this incident was the culmination of that stress, so I think now would be an opportune time to address it.”

Percy hesitated, conflicted, and thought about it seriously. He thought about himself, how he’d been sleeping and feeling, how much easier or harder each day had been lately.

“I’m pretty sure pushing through it would mean a few more overnight things,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t know if that’s okay.”

Raine seemed to seriously consider the question, which was oddly comforting.

“I will never say that you can’t come get me during the night,” she said at last. “If you need me, I will be there.” She gave him an apologetic nod. “But it’s true that I... certainly need my wits about me while we’re working together. Would you be alright getting Cassia? Her work hours are more flexible, and I think she’d be willing to help if I explained the situation.”

Percy thought about it, then nodded decisively. “I couldn’t tell her anything,” he said, “but I think she could calm me down anyway. Thanks.” He tapped his feet, scuffing the forest floor. “I think... as long as that’s okay, I think I can handle it. There’ll be some rough nights, but I feel like I’ll be alright.”

Raine smiled at him. “That’s amazing progress, Percy.”

“So before I talk about anything else, I think I need to tell you about Damasen,” Percy said, squishing his shark between his chest and the chair back again. He hugged it in an almost casual way, relaxed against the seat. “I mean- there were like, genuinely no catches with him, nothing like- like what happened with Bob, but it’s still important.” Raine nodded. “Damasen is- was a giant that lived in Tartarus. He was the anti-Ares, I guess, so he was too peaceful to go to war when the other giants did. Only thing he ever killed was a drakon that was harassing a village.” He shrugged helplessly. “Eventually he got cast into Tartarus for refusing to fight, and he spent the next few thousand years killing the same drakon every day.”

“How did you meet him?”

“Bob took me to him after we ran into the arai,” Percy said. “The poison from the curse was too strong for him to heal, but Damasen spent his time gathering herbs and mixing medicine, so he figured he could handle it.” He exhaled shakily. “I think Annabeth had to goad him into making the medicine, but it didn’t take much, honestly. And...” He reached up to rub at his eyes as they threatened to burn. “We spent some time there, in his cabin. He, he gave Annabeth a drakon bone sword to replace her knife. He gave us food, warm food, and backpacks with some jerky and stuff to take with us. We slept there. It was... it was nice.” He rubbed his eyes harder. “It was so nice.”

“What happened to him?”

Percy meant to take a breath, but ended up letting out a dry sob instead, pressing his hands against his face. It took him a minute to steady himself again.

“I haven’t told you what the problem with the Doors of Death was yet,” he said without looking at her. Raine murmured her confirmation. “It takes about twelve minutes to get from Tartarus to the mortal world. That whole time...” He took a deep, slow breath. “Someone has to stay at the bottom, and hold the ‘up’ button to keep it going. If they let go, the Doors open somewhere in between, and... um, Bob didn’t say what happens then. It’s not good.”

Raine’s lips mouthed a silent oh. “Someone had to stay behind.”

“Two people,” Percy said quietly. “One to hold the button, one to hold off the monsters.” He started to tell her what he’d been afraid of, but he choked on the words and had to swallow hard again. “Bob and Damasen... there’s nothing I can do to pay them back for what they did that day.”

“I understand,” Raine murmured. “How do you feel when you think about Damasen now?”

“I feel sad and guilty,” he said. He hugged his toy, setting his cheek down on it. “I... I wish I could’ve done more for him. I’m upset that he and Bob died to get me and Annabeth out of Tartarus, and- and I also feel guilty because I wouldn’t choose any different. If I could go back and make a different choice, I, I wouldn’t.” He pressed his hands over his eyes. “What kind of friend am I?”

“You’re not obligated to sacrifice yourself for your friends, Percy,” Raine said gently. “Not any one time, and certainly not every time.” She leaned forward onto her desk, meeting his eyes seriously. “To choose to sacrifice yourself once can be a statement of immense loyalty and selflessness. To feel like you must sacrifice yourself is simply your low self-esteem at work.”

Then who am I? Percy wanted to ask. One of his most defining traits was his loyalty to his friends. If he didn’t have that, what did he have? But the flaw in his thinking was easy to spot, and he took a deep breath and held it, forcing himself to reason it out. He was still loyal to his friends – he just also had low self-esteem, and his altruism blended together with that, making it hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

“It feels bad,” was what he settled on instead, voice low. “It... it feels bad to know that they died to help me. They were immortal. They could have lived forever.”

“I know,” Raine agreed softly. “It’s hard, and I’m sure it’s harder when you value your friends so much more than yourself. But they did a noble thing, saving you and Annabeth, and that was their choice to make.” She crossed his arms over her desk, holding his gaze so intently that he held his breath. “I know you’re more used to performing noble actions than benefiting from them, but it is not bad for you to be on this side of the experience. You have not done anything wrong.”

“They didn’t have to die.” His voice cracked.

“They didn’t,” Raine acknowledged. “They chose to. Perhaps your suffering touched their hearts, or your resilience in the face of it. Perhaps they simply liked you, and wanted you to survive. Or maybe they appreciated how young you are, and wanted to protect you. But they thought that you were worth dying for. And that is a statement of faith, not a condemnation.”

Percy started crying. He wondered if you could run out of tears.

“I’m not there anymore,” he croaked after a while, rubbing his tears off on Fang. “I’m, I’m not in Tartarus. I got out. We got out. We went home.” He hiccupped. “How could I ever thank them for that? How could I tell them how much it means to me?”

“Would you want to record a message for them?” Raine suggested. “Even if you can’t share it with them, you can say anything that you want to tell them. You can say ‘thank you.’ Tell them how you’re doing.”

Percy sniffled, then nodded hard. “Yeah. Yeah. I wanna do that.”

The grief ceremony was so conveniently timed that Percy suspected that Raine had brought it up to Cassia sometime during the day. He was grateful for it, and lined up another dozen candles along his small table, murmuring epitaphs.

“For Bob the Titan. Thank you for forgiving me, and I forgive you too.”

“For Damasen. You made more difference than you’ll ever know, and I’ll remember your kindness forever.”

“For Ryan Eckles, son of Apollo...”

He wasn’t surprised when he, Annabeth, and Nico stayed long after everyone else had left, and stayed quiet when he heard both of them crying quietly, expressing grief that both of them struggled to share with others.

He was startled when Annabeth started to sing, though in hindsight, he shouldn’t have been.

“Atropos cut your thread, but that is not the end; cross the Styx and pass by Nyx, go on through with a bag of tricks, and I’ll see you in the stars tonight.”

That was all it took for Percy to recognize the song – I’ll See You in the Stars Tonight, one of the few sober songs that campers broke out when there was a funeral pyre. Annabeth’s singing voice wasn’t as sweet as the Apollo campers’ made it, but it was surprisingly steady, and without thinking, Percy joined her. Nico twisted around to frown at them, but then, to Percy’s surprise, he joined in too – humming more than singing, but at least following along.

Slowly, all three of them migrated away from their candlelit tables, and ended up forming a loose circle in the middle of the room. Cassia let it happen, staying out of the way while they sang more camp songs – Who Will Make My Shroud, Where Heroes Go, All My Friends Are On Fire. Despite their grief, mourning the loss of the campers they’d burned that summer, a sense of peaceful camaraderie settled over Percy, soothing the pain in his chest.

Violetta was the first to poke her head back in, waiting for them to finish the song they were on before she piped up. “I don’t recognize those songs.”

“Our camp has some weird funeral traditions,” Percy told her. “Do you want to sit with us?”

“It’s weird that your summer camp has funeral traditions,” Violetta told him, but she came in and sat back down. Annabeth shifted in discomfort, crossing her arms, and Violetta winced. “Sorry. Am I in the way?”

Instead of answering, Annabeth looked at Percy. Percy gave her an encouraging smile.

“Teaching new campers is a tradition at pyre anyway, isn’t it?” he said. “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

Annabeth loosened, and finally gave Violetta a nod.

“Just try and follow along,” she said.

By the end of the block, the rest of them had come back in, and every one of them was singing Charon Row Your Boat.

Chapter Text

Percy jumped a foot when Lucas knelt beside him.

“I’m sorry, Percy, I thought you saw me,” Lucas apologized. Percy shrugged and waved it off, shifting in discomfort, and Lucas continued, “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been drawing rather upsetting imagery this week. Do you want to talk about something?”

Percy shook his head. “It’s a therapy assignment,” he assured Lucas. He looked down at the piece he was working on, him and Annabeth holding hands and running by horrible monsters: round, evil eyes that dwarfed them effortlessly, towering ugly gargoyles that stood poised to strike, a gaping mouth with rows of vicious teeth waiting for them to walk into it. “Um, I’ve been having nightmares about things I can’t see, so Raine thinks it’ll help if I imagine what they are instead of just going ‘oh, the horror!’”

“Is it working well for you?”

“I think so.” The nightmares had dampened noticeably, like he was painting a glaze over the memory. His demigod instincts screamed at him, shrieking in terror at the horrors in the darkness, but imagining them apparently took precedence.

“Very good,” Lucas said. “I’m glad art therapy works so well for you.” He hesitated, looking like he had more to say, so Percy waited. After a moment, Lucas continued, “I know your trauma has been beyond what most people can even imagine, and you’ve found that art helps you to process that. I won’t discourage it.”

“...But?” Percy asked, wary.

“But I noticed,” Lucas said, “that last year, you also spent some time drawing things that you liked, nurturing your new interest. I haven’t seen you do that during this stay. I know you’ve been struggling with positive thinking. It might help to return to more comfortable ground once in a while.”

Percy looked down. He hadn’t realized that at all. “Like... paint just for fun?”

“Yes,” Lucas said. “Give yourself room to breathe. You deserve it, and art block is meant to be a respite as much as another form of therapy.”

Percy stared down for a minute, and then, finally, nodded.

“I have a lot of art therapy assignments this week,” he told Lucas, “cause we’re covering a lot of stuff that I can’t really describe. But I’ll take some time afterwards.”

Without thinking, he spread out the stack of pictures he’d collected over the last few days, showing them to Lucas. In addition to the Mansion of Night, there was a crude sketch of Percy with monstrous features, a rough drawing of the inside of Damasen’s home, and a fuzzy charcoal-rubbed image of Tartarus’ physical form. Lucas studied these images like he actually wanted to know what Percy was thinking.

“You’ve got a talent for expressing yourself,” Lucas said at last, making Percy smile brightly at the unexpected compliment. “Are you taking these home?”

“Some of them,” Percy said. “I mean, some are gonna get torn up for like, therapeutic reasons. But this one...” He fingered the corner of the drawing of Damasen’s home. “I might wanna redo it, but I think I’ll keep it either way.”

“Would you want a book about drawing different types of scenery?” Lucas asked. “You’ve come a long way since you first started drawing.”

Percy looked down, startled. He supposed he had – rough, lazy lines had gained curves and angles, and proportions had evened out. There was more detail, too. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I know,” Lucas said. “You’re really doing it just because you like it. That’s very admirable.” Percy smiled. “So?”

It took Percy a second to catch up. “Oh- yeah, I think I’d like that. I mean, if it’s really fine.”

Lucas smiled. “I’m always happy to encourage someone’s interest in art.”

“There’s something that keeps coming up,” Percy said haltingly, “but it’s kind of weird. It might be one of those things that I’ll have to wait for it to go away.”

“No harm in asking,” Raine said. Percy crossed his arms self-consciously, hugging himself without realizing it.

“I keep thinking about how much being in Tartarus hurt,” he explained without looking at her. “Nothing else, just- I dunno, wallowing in the memory. I remember it, and my skin tingles. Sometimes I get so focused on it that I think I can feel it. I’ve come pretty close to having a panic attack just from remembering the pain.”

“What makes you think about it?”

“I haven’t figured it out,” he admitted. “It happens at night, mostly. My mind just wanders over there, and then it’s like- like ‘don’t think about pink elephants,’ you know? The harder I try to stop thinking about it, the more vivid the memory gets.”

“Tell me about it,” Raine invited softly. “Having someone empathize with your ordeal is usually a good first step.”

Percy covered his face. “I thought I already talked to you about it, like, right at the beginning of my stay. If I try and say anything else about it, it’ll pretty much just be me moaning ‘oh, the pain, the horrible pain!’ Seems silly.”

“I don’t think so,” Raine said. “You went through an unimaginable amount of physical pain alongside your emotional ordeals. Talking about it will help you begin to grasp that.”

“Okay,” he sighed, and bounced in place a few more times, trying to shake off his anxiety. “Just... what? Tell you how much it hurt?”

Raine nodded. “Describe it to me, if you want, or talk about any parts that stand out to you. Whatever feels right.”

He nodded distractedly, and thought for a few more moments before he started. “Think the worst of it was in my lungs. I mean- my skin felt like I was sunburnt all over, all hot and sore and stuff, and really sensitive too. A couple times I bumped into trees and yelped ‘cause the scrape hurt so bad. But...” Slow, careful breath, in and then out. “My lungs... gods, I felt like I was dying slowly. My chest ached, like my lungs were about to shrivel up and fall into my stomach. And when I was fighting the arai- gods. I was exerting myself a lot, you know? Running and fighting and stuff. So I was breathing pretty hard. And that-” He lifted his fingertips to the throat, wincing at the memory. “When my throat was blistering? It felt like I was choking on glass, and when I was done with it it’d tumble down to sit in my lungs.”

“Was there any long-term damage?”

Percy nodded. “I haven’t gotten it checked out by a doctor or anything, but one of the Apollo kids had a look and did what he could. I get out of breath a lot easier now, and it’s harder to get it back.” He rubbed his chest. “It still kind of aches like it’s tearing, but I can’t tell if it’s just my imagination.”

“Even now?”

He shook his head. “With exercise, mostly. During panic attacks too.” His gaze drifted away. “Toward the end of every- I dunno, rep. Before we had to drink firewater again, I mean. I’d start wheezing, getting dizzy. Sometimes I’d even get black spots in my vision, and I still wouldn’t want to drink because it was so awful.” He swallowed. “I just, I keep thinking about the ache in my chest. It started to make me not want to breathe, after a while. I’d feel this, this spike of dread right before I took every breath. Do you know how hard it is to breathe when you don’t really want to?”

Percy tried to swallow the lump swelling in his throat, eyes starting to wet from the memory alone of his pain and hopelessness.

“And it was cyclic,” he said, unable to stop now that he’d started. “Every... let’s go with rep, yeah, that works. Every rep would last like, maybe half an hour. And that was the worst part. I mean- there were a lot of worst parts, but this was, this was so bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“It just wouldn’t stop,” he croaked. “It happened over and over and over. It, it would start with the burning, and I’d feel sick and sore and it hurt to swallow. And then it would get worse. My throat would start to burn, like reflux times a billion, and my stomach would feel like it was filled with lava, and my chest would hurt like there was a rock in it, and I’d just keep going until I started stumbling from how dizzy I was. And then I’d sit down and make myself drink the stupid firewater, and I’d, I’d scream every time because it hurt so bad. I’d choke it down and then literally curl up like a little baby. And what would I get for it? I’d sit up and I’d feel the sunburn again and I’d try to swallow and it would hurt, and, and I’d know that it wasn’t going to get any better than that.” His voice twisted into a whine. “I, I thought it was never gonna end.”

“It’s over,” Raine said quietly. “You’re home.”

“No, I’m not home!” Percy snapped, hugging himself tightly. He was almost shaking, tears spilling over. “I’m here! I’m here, trying to remember why I shouldn’t kill myself, and trying to convince myself that my life doesn’t fucking suck!” His voice cracked again. “I’m seventeen! I’m seventeen! What did I do to deserve this?”

“I know,” Raine murmured. “I know. Shh. You’re safe now. You’re going to be okay.  Take a deep breath. Hold- good. Let it out, take a deep breath. Can you tell me five things you can see?”

Percy tried to rub the tears away. “Um, your desk, your glasses, the window. Your computer. The pen cup. That’s five?”

“Deep breath, hold, let it out. Deep breath. Can you tell me four things you can feel?”

He took a deep breath. “My socks. The heater. The chair. I’m gonna grab Fang.” He got up to get his stuffed shark and immediately felt better.

“Three things you can hear.”

“Rainstorm outside,” Percy mumbled. “Your computer whirring. Janitor pushing a cart.”

“Two things you can smell.”

Without being asked, he took another deep breath. “Air freshener and steam.”

“Good,” she praised. “Feel better?”

He nodded shakily. “Sorry,” he mumbled before he could stop himself, and then tacked on, “Guess the mood swings haven’t exactly cooled down yet, huh?”

Raine gave him a small, reassuring smile. “Some of that is the intensive therapy,” she said. “You’re essentially stewing in your emotions, so they’re very close to the surface right now. It’s alright. That’s why this is a facility.”

Percy managed a weak smile back, and then dropped back with a sigh. “Okay. What else can we do? Something besides...” He hesitated, looking for a better way to phrase it. “Um, besides being sad about it.”

“Tactile exercises,” Raine said decisively. “Grounding yourself in another physical sensation should help your body to let go of the memory of that pain. When you find yourself brooding on it, look for something else to feel – take a shower, wrap yourself in a soft blanket. Cuddling or co-sleeping should work very well, with either a person or an animal.”

“No easy answers, huh?” he said, rueful. Raine shook her head.

“Not for now, I’m afraid. Give it some time. If the issue doesn’t start to clear up in a reasonable amount of time, we can discuss the possibility of getting you a service dog to help.”

He scrunched up his nose. “They make guide dogs for PTSD?”

“No- well, yes.” Raine chucked at herself. “Guide dogs are the most well-known, but service dogs can be trained for an extremely wide variety of tasks. For you... I imagine you’d want a dog that could recognize an oncoming episode, take you somewhere quiet, and break you out of it.”

“Service dogs are so cool,” Percy said wistfully, but moved on without asking anything else.

“I’ve never seen you get so attached to a patient.”

Percy faltered, instantly forgetting his reason for coming to Raine’s office. Instead, he carefully leaned against the wall, tipping his head back to listen.

“If, god forbid, Percy needs to come back for a third stay, you really ought to consider asking someone else to take him.” Lucas, Percy realized, voice soft with concern. “You care about him immensely, and that’s wonderful, we all care about our patients very much. But I’m worried about what it will mean for you if something happens.”

Percy’s heartbeat picked up, panic starting to set in. He hadn’t thought of that. Did Raine really care about him enough for the things he talked about to hurt her? For her to care if he really did hurt himself? In the beginning, the thought would have been absurd. But...

“I understand your concern,” Raine said, steady and calm, “and I appreciate it. For an ordinary patient, I would probably even consider it. But Percy’s situation and mental health are delicate, and switching therapists would agitate him badly. Anyway, I’d like to see this through.”

“You’re not exactly convincing me to change my mind, Raine,” Lucas said. “Percy’s case is no more or less significant than any other patient’s, and you need to consider if you can let it go.”

“You know that’s not true,” Raine said quietly.

Both of them were quiet for a minute. Percy held his breath.

“I put in for more leave after Percy’s stay is over,” Raine said at last. “I’m not unaware of the effect his case is having on me. I’ll need some time to process and decompress, and I will take it. But I hope you understand that, under the circumstances, I want to make sure he receives the care he needs.”

Lucas’ voice, when he spoke, sounded relieved. “I’m glad. You’re an important member of our team, Raine. I would hate to see you burn out.”

“I’m not an understudy, Lucas,” Raine said, with a hint of amusement. Then, softer, “The world can be terribly cruel. Sometimes it takes more than a small amount of kindness to counteract that.”

“That boy is blessed to have you,” Lucas said. Percy heard the scrape of chair legs. “Take care of yourself, and thank you for hearing me out.”

“Of course.”

Percy didn’t have time to react before the door opened, and he yelped, flinching away guiltily. When he peeked up, Lucas was looking at him.

“Oh, Percy,” he sighed, and glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry about this, Raine.”

“It happens,” Raine said. “Percy, would you like to come in? Did you need something?”

“Sorry,” Percy blurted out, but Lucas just ruffled his hair and left, leaving Percy to shuffle guiltily. Raine, inside her office, gave him a weary smile.

“It happens,” she said again, and gestured for him to sit down.

Percy did. “I, um, I wanted to ask if we could start weaning me off the antinausea thing,” he mumbled. “After we finish covering Tartarus.”

“If you think you’re ready, yes,” Raine said gently. “It’s best that I’m able to keep an eye on you as you’re adjusting anyway. But be prepared to step it back up if you start to vomit again, or if you experience other side effects.”

“Okay, cool,” he muttered.

Raine waited, and Percy squirmed, not leaving but also not speaking.

“I didn’t know I was making you upset,” Percy said at last, quiet and rough. “’M sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she reassured him softly, looking unsurprised. “It’s a normal part of being a therapist. My job description necessarily means that I hear a lot of very upsetting things, and working with you is no different.”

“You literally need therapy for giving me therapy,” Percy protested.

“That’s normal,” Raine repeated firmly. “This isn’t the first time I’ve scheduled therapy after a case, and it won’t be the last. I won’t deny that your case is unusually intense, but even my regular patients are all children who went through years of abuse. I’m sure you don’t need help imagining what I hear in some of those sessions.”

He really didn’t. “I’m still sorry.”

“I forgave you before we even started,” Raine said without hesitation. Then, softer, “What are you scared of, Percy?”

Until she said that, Percy hadn’t even really registered that he was scared. He hugged himself and thought about it for a minute.

“I’m scared that I’m gonna hurt you,” he decided. “And... I’m, um, I’m scared you’ll stop seeing me.” He glanced down at his feet and tapped the floor. “It feels kind of selfish to bring it up now, but... I, I dunno what I’ll do if I have to stop coming here.”

Raine nodded, slow and thoughtful.

“Of course you are,” she murmured after a moment. “You and I both know you need this badly, even more than you did last year.” She tapped the table a few times, and then said, “If, and only if, it will make you feel better, you can ask your friends in New Rome if there are therapists there. I’d prefer to continue helping you myself, but it might comfort you to have options.”

Percy blinked, and then was swamped with relief that made him feel a little guilty. Now that he thought about it, he remembered Frank mentioning therapists in New Rome.

Raine smiled, maybe seeing the shift in his expression. “And to the other point,” she said, “I’m okay, Percy. I attend therapy after certain cases mostly as a preventative measure. It’s very important in my profession to have a clear head.” She studied him, and then continued, “When Lucas says he’s worried, he mostly means that I’ve been more preoccupied than usual. I’m not having nightmares or mood swings, or experiencing violent thoughts. Secondhand trauma is rarely that intense. Essentially, I just... think about your case quite a lot.”

“That’s really all?” Percy checked anxiously.

“That’s really all,” Raine promised.

Percy exhaled, and then got up, circled the desk, and hugged her.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Chapter Text

> Welcome, @AnnabethChase. Say hi!

AnnabethChase: I see I’ve misundesdood how usernames work.

Galadriel: Dose this fit better?

Happy Place: Whatever works for you!

thornberry: YO percy’s girlfriend is finally here

Galadriel: Finaly??

edgelord supreme: percy talks about you a lot, dude

Galadriel: Percy denys this

thornberry: is he reading over your shoulder

Galadriel: yes

thornberry: are you being obnoxiously cute and he’s hugging you from behind

Galadriel: yes

Happy Place: aww

Galadriel: Who’s who? He says a cupple of you have changed your names so he’s not sure.

thornberry: suffer

Happy Place: I’m Kylie, edgelord supreme is Jet, thornberry is Rose, pinkiepie is Amna, foggy glasses is Alfie, and danny phantom is Percy of course

Galadriel: Thank you. Sorry if I seam off at any point, I don’t spend a lot of time on the innernet.

Galadriel: Internet

Happy Place: It’s fine!! Percy doesn’t either. I guess because you’re both super outdoorsy. :) It’s good to have you here anyway!

Happy Place: Just so you know, #schoolhouse-rock is the general channel, #arts-and-crafts is for anything creative, #positivity is for sharing good news and pretty pictures and things like that, and #paddedroom is for vent stuff

Galadriel: Vent stuff?

Galadriel: Percy explaned. I forgot this was a chat full of mentaly ill peapel.

thornberry: we have a lot of problems all the time

Galadriel: Oh, same

Happy Place: So how are you doing? You just got admitted to St. Joan’s, right?

Galadriel: A week and a half ago, yes. I’m fine.

edgelord supreme: being admitted to st joans is the antithesis of fine

thornberry: he’s not wrong

Happy Place: You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable

Happy Place: But this is a good place to talk about that stuff. We all get it.

Galadriel: thanks

Galadriel: It’s better now that I’m here. I’m finaly geting to address my conserns. Being at home wasn’t realy helping me.

thornberry: Does it ever?

edgelord supreme: preach

Galadriel: Oh. That was a loded thing to say in this compunny. (Percy is laghing at me.) Dad isn’t abusive. We just don’t get along verry well.

edgelord supreme: unpreach

Happy Place: Be nice! Family is complicated

Galadriel: I don’t want to tack abot this.

Galadriel: Percy is geting a computerr so he can log in.

thornberry: And change the subject?

Galadriel: yes

danny phantom: i’m not the only dys*$#%@ heer anymor

danny phantom: lol. annabeth sayed ‘wat the hecc percy’

thornberry: she hasn’t seen the nightmares you make when you try to spell dyslexic

Galadriel: Sadly I know from experiense.

Galadriel: Can I turn off the red limes? Stop remynding me I can’t spell

thornberry: i glanced around and it doesn’t look you can, sorry

danny phantom: if nico joins ther’ll be amost as many dys#$#* as not

thornberry: please no

thornberry: i already feel like i’m deciphering code

Galadriel: suffer

thornberry: fjdlksaJE;FLSDAJF

danny phantom: this issn’t wye i logged on

danny phantom: gays!!

thornberry: gays

edgelord supreme: gays

Happy Place: Excuse me! There is a server rule against making fun of Percy’s spelling mistakes!

danny phantom: :(

edgelord supreme: shit. sorry, percy

thornberry: sorry

thornberry: it’s a reflexive reaction to seeing the word gay

danny phantom: your stil invitted even tho you made fun of me

danny phantom: mom sayed we can hav a party at montauk wen i finnish agen!

Galadriel: Of course you spellled Montauk right

danny phantom: i love montauk :)

danny phantom: @foggy glasses @pinkiepie your invited to!!

edgelord supreme: montauk? as in, the super special place you and your mom visit?

danny phantom: yes!

pinkiepie: this is the best thing i could have logged on to see

pinkiepie: that’s so sweet? i don’t know if i can come but i’ll try!

pinkiepie: who else will be there?

pinkiepie: percy?

Galadriel: Give him a minnut, he needs to spell a lot of names

danny phantom: mom, paul, my brother tyson, grover, thalia, butch, and will! frank and hazel if they can com, and maybe jason and leo and piper if they want

thornberry: they Better

danny phantom: <3

pinkiepie: not annabeth?

Galadriel: I will still be heer.

Galadriel: It’s fine. I’ve been there with him befor, and will agan.

thornberry: oh, cute

danny phantom: i’ll need an exuse to take nico sumtime. i don’t want him to feel left out

edgelord supreme: you have so many friends

danny phantom: yes! :D

Happy Place: How are you coming along, @danny phantom? You haven’t been online in a while

danny phantom: i have manny problems

Happy Place: Of course, I totally understand! Don’t worry about that. But I worry about you.

danny phantom: :)

danny phantom: hafway thru! i’m not a sack of trauma anymorr

Happy Place: That’s good!

danny phantom: yea! its stil hard but i’m not so overvelmed

danny phantom: i see the lite :telescope:

danny phantom: annabeth dose not

Galadriel: I do not

Galadriel: I have a good roadmap to folow though

danny phantom: <3

Galadriel: <3

“Is Annabeth asleep in your lap?” Grover asked, leaning over with concern.

“Her therapist says it’s a good thing,” Percy assured him, keeping his voice low. He played with Annabeth’s hair. “It’s been a couple days of this now, and Mai thinks it’s because she’s starting to feel safe here.” He tugged gently. “And she’s got a lot of sleep to catch up on.”

Annabeth ‘mm’ed and rolled closer to Percy, tucking her nose against his belly. Grover exhaled, brow furrowed, but he settled down next to Percy.

“Come on, you were saying stuff,” Percy added to Nico. “Are you finally done explaining your complicated life to Eddie?”

Nico made a grumpy noise. “Two weeks,” he griped. “Two weeks to explain my family and living situation.” To the others, he added, “You know how long that’s supposed to take? Two hours. But no, I had to spend two weeks talking about the Underworld and how it works and that stupid casino and everything.”

Jason wrinkled his forehead, working out the math. “But then you should have been done a while ago, shouldn’t you?”

Nico scowled. “I didn’t want to get right into it ‘cause it’s all so complicated and messed up. We did the whole emotional skills thing without talking about that stuff.” He hesitated, then tacked on, “And, uh, I talked about friends before family. Just seemed easier.”

“Do you have enough time to get to everything?” Jason asked with concern. “You’re a third of the way through your stay now, right?”

Nico shrugged. “Unlike Mama’s Boy McGee-” Percy rolled his eyes, and Nico smirked at him. “-I’m okay with spending an extra month or two here. I mean, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

“Sounds like you’re getting along well with Eddie,” Percy noted.

“He’s okay,” Nico said, though he very suddenly looked away and fidgeted with the cuff of his jeans. “I thought he’d be a lot weirder about me being a son of Hades, but he’s not, really. And he understands more than I thought he would. I mean- I wouldn’t have expected a mortal to understand me trying to get Bianca back, but...” He trailed off.

“Anyone would,” Piper reassured him. “Most people just don’t get the chance.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna get into next?” Jason asked.

Nico grimaced, reaching up to rub his face tiredly. “It’s gotta be Tartarus,” he admitted. “Don’t get me wrong, there’s a ton of stuff that would be easier to talk about first, but I won’t be able to concentrate on any of it. I... I need to put that place behind me.”

“If you think you can, go for it,” Percy said firmly, drawing Nico’s attention to him. He held his gaze. “Even if you have to do it on and off. Talk about whatever you can’t stop thinking about.”

Nico looked too old for his age, face lined with exhaustion. He nodded.

“Whatever gets it out of my head,” he muttered.

“What about you, Percy?” Jason asked, turning concerned eyes on him. “You’re about halfway through your stay, aren’t you? Do you think you’ll be done in time?”

Percy didn’t even have to think about it before he was shaking his head.

“I’ll get through the bulk of it,” he said ruefully. “Like, we’re trying to push through the rest of Tartarus over the next week or two. But, um, Raine said I probably wouldn’t ever be done with therapy. My brain’s just too gunked up.” He glanced down, playing with Annabeth’s hair. “Hell, after Tartarus I'm back to my childhood. That's always fun." He didn't bother to suppress the sarcasm.

Piper’s brow furrowed. “Your childhood?” she asked. “What about it?”

Percy and Grover both stiffened, and Percy hissed through his teeth. “I haven't mentioned that?” The other three shook their heads. Nico gave Percy a sideways glance, clearly wary, and Percy took a deep breath and looked away, feeling his face get hot. “Um...” He had to force away three drafts of self-deprecation. “Do you want to hear about it? It’s fine if you don’t.”

“Hospital visit close, remember?” Leo reminded him, though his fidgeting sped up as he picked up on Percy’s mood. Percy glanced over, but Piper and Jason looked just as earnest.

If Percy was honest, while he'd gotten a lot better at it, he still had a hard time talking about his early life. It wasn't that the memories haunted him, exactly, but explaining those years of mistreatment made him feel self-conscious in a bad way - like he was asking for their pity, or comparing his trauma to theirs. He had to remind himself that it wasn't like that. They were curious about him, like he'd been curious about Annabeth and Thalia, and opening up was an exercise in trust.

“I was abused as a kid,” he said at last, focusing very hard on winding a delicate blonde curl around his finger. “And, um, it still affects a lot of how I see myself and my relationships with other people. So. Therapy forever.” He shrugged, trying to bat away the shame that wanted to crawl up his throat. “That’s more or less why I was here last year. It got kinda out of hand.”

Grover poked him in the ribs. “You scared us to death,” he scolded without heat. Percy smiled, more grateful than embarrassed. It helped that he was able to feel Grover’s affection through their repaired bond.

“Alright, who do we have to kill?” Piper asked, and as far as Percy could tell, she was dead serious. He laughed.

“He’s dead already, and good riddance,” he said, leaning into Grover as tension drained away. Jason looked wide-eyed, but still more concerned than judgmental, and Leo looked surprisingly empathetic. “Emotional abuse has a lot of dimensions, it turns out, and we think it might be part of my anger issues. Gonna be a really awkward follow-up to escaping Tartarus, though.”

“You just don’t get a break, huh?” Jason said quietly. Percy gave him a rueful smile.

“Not really.” Childhood to prophecy to Tartarus, he could admit that he’d had it kind of rough.

Annabeth sighed against Percy’s arm, and that was his only warning before she rolled over to face their visitors. “Hey. How long have you been here?”

“Not long,” Piper assured her. “We were just talking about how therapy has been going for Nico and Percy.”

Annabeth hummed her understanding. “What about you and Leo? You started this week, didn’t you?”

Piper flushed, and Percy started, looking at both of them.

“So you did get around to it,” he said, pleased. “How’s it going?”

Piper shrugged, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. “I don’t know,” she admitted, fiddling with her shoelace. “I’ve gotten better at listening to my feelings, tapping into my mother’s power, but talking about them is still pretty awful.”

Concern sparked in Percy’s chest. “Do you not like your therapist?”

Piper shrugged. “They’re okay,” she said, much more dubiously than Nico had. “They used to work here, apparently, but they transferred at some point. Letitia referred me.” She rubbed the hem of her jeans, contemplative. “I think I just don’t feel justified enough to complain to someone. All the attention-seeking I did as a kid? Yikes. And I didn’t even have a real reason. I was just a brat.”

Annabeth shifted and stretched, and then sat up to look at Piper.

“Therapists are supposed to be nonjudgmental,” she said. “I’m sure they’ve heard worse, and if they’re rude about it, tell Letitia. She can find you someone else.”

“It seems like such a minor thing to fuss about,” Piper said.

“Yeah, a minor thing that ruins the entire point of therapy,” Annabeth pointed out. “If you can’t talk to them, what are you seeing them for?”

Piper relaxed a little, looking reassured. “Are you getting along with Mai?” she asked. Annabeth scowled faintly.

“Yeah,” she decided, despite the scowl. “We’re focusing on self-soothing and coping strategies right now, and I think she’s using the time to gain my trust too. Like if she can prove to me that she’s taking my concerns seriously, I’ll be more honest with her later.”

“Is it working?” Piper asked.

“Yes,” Annabeth admitted. “She hasn’t been brushing me off, and she doesn’t argue with me when I tell her things. I cry about the shadows and she turns on more lights. It’s nice.”

“And how’s it going for you?” Percy asked Leo, who looked surprised to be asked.

“Uh...” Leo took a moment to gather his thoughts, surprise turning to a flash of gratitude. “Pretty well, honestly. I don’t know what it was, but me and the lady just clicked. And I’m not in-” He waved vaguely. “Crisis land, so we skipped the skill building and I can just tell her about my horrible Aunt Rosa.”

“Good for you,” Percy told him sincerely. “How often are you meeting? Twice a week?”

“Once a week,” Leo said. “We’ve only had two meetings so far, but I think I’ll be okay sticking with it for a while. We’ll see.”

Percy smiled at him, and then looked at Jason. “What about you?”

“I’m waiting until I visit Camp Jupiter,” Jason said. “I’m sure Letitia’s people are great and all, but I figured New Rome’s would be better for me, since I grew up in the Legion and all.”

Percy nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that makes sense. Not exactly the same as growing up abused, huh?”

“Not at all,” Jason said emphatically.

“So if I’m neither of those, does that mean I belong at some secret third place?” Nico deadpanned. Annabeth and Jason immediately fell into the debate, and Percy started as Leo leaned over.

“Hey,” Leo said quietly, looking serious again. “If you’re cool with it, Calypso was hoping you could IM her tonight or tomorrow.” Percy pressed his lips together. “She said she doesn’t expect you to be sorry anymore. She just wants to talk things out.”

Percy hesitated for a second, and then let out a breath and nodded. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Percy said, nearly in tears. “I woke up and there was stuffing all over my bed.”

Cassia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, taking a few minutes to catch up, and then stepped into the hall and shut the door behind her. Then she sat on the floor and gestured. “Alright, let me see,” she said, much quieter than Percy.

Percy plopped down and handed Fang over. He wasn’t sure why he was so upset; he hadn’t slept with a stuffed animal since he was four, and he was seventeen. That was way too old to be waking an adult up over something like this. But finding the hole in Fang’s side seemed to wrench something open in him, and he’d panicked.

Cassia explored the stuffed shark for a moment and found the hole fairly quickly. She prodded at it, poking a few fingers inside, and tilted the toy back and forth.

“Looks like the stitches burst,” she said at last. “It’ll be easy to fix; I think Lucas has some sewing supplies. Do you have another comfort object you can hold onto in the meantime?”

“Comfort object?” Percy asked, rubbing at his wet eyes.

“Ah,” Cassia said, like she’d realized something. “A comfort object is something you hold onto to help you feel safe, like a stuffed animal or a security blanket. Is this your only one?” Percy hesitated, thinking about it, and eventually had to nod. “Now I understand why you’re so upset. You and Raine are working on some difficult material this week, aren’t you?”

Percy nodded again. “Trauma stuff,” he mumbled, squeezing Fang with one hand covering the open tear. “Um, tomorrow I’m... gonna see someone who helped me once, and then got really mad over a misunderstanding. I’m kind of anxious about it.”

“Was that what you were thinking about tonight?” Cassia asked. Percy looked away.

“I can think of reasons for anyone to want to hurt me if I just look,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want to look. I want to trust people.” He tightened his grip again. “But we were talking about it for ages, and- and now I’m looking.”

He wasn’t having nightmares; his father’s charm made sure of that. But his sleep had been restless and troubled, interrupted by haunting thoughts of seeing his friends turn their backs on him. What if Grover decided Percy wasn’t spending enough time helping him protect nature? What if Annabeth was angry that he hadn’t insisted she come to St. Joan’s sooner? Waking up to find Fang damaged had been the final straw.

“What’s bothering you right now?” Cassia asked, soft and patient. Percy fidgeted.

“I’m scared that I’m not good enough to make my friends stay with me,” he said at last. “I’m not a mind reader. I don’t know what they want. They could change their minds any time, for any reason, and I won’t know ‘til it’s too late.”

Cassia reached out and caught his hand.

“You’re catastrophizing, Percy,” she murmured. “I don’t know what happened, so you’ll need to address this with Raine, but I’ll tell you this: your friends love you. You’re very easy to love. And no one worth your time will leave without trying to talk to you first.”

Percy swallowed thickly, his eyes getting a little wet. He didn’t know what to say, but Cassia seemed to understand, and she smiled at him.

“There should be safety pins at the front desk,” Cassia said, “and we can use those to hold your friend together for now. Do you think that would help?”

Percy nodded shakily. “Yeah. I think so.”

Cassia got up, and they headed down the hall toward the lobby, both of them in pajamas in the darkened hallway.

“Sorry for waking you,” he tacked on, when they were almost there. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Cassia yawned. “It’s alright. You were distraught. Are nights hard for you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I, um, I haven’t been doing great with being alone. I work myself up too much, you know? I didn’t even realize I was relying on Fang to break myself out of it, but...” He trailed off.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Cassia said, lowering her voice further as they passed through the patient dorms. “Wear and tear is the best way to tell that a toy is loved.”

She patted the front desk, and he set Fang down while she rummaged through a drawer. Within minutes, she came up with a couple of safety pins, and Percy leaned over to watch as she pinned the broken seam back together. She smiled at him.

“It’s not perfect, but it’ll hold until morning,” she said, pushing Fang toward him. He picked the stuffed shark back up, feeling an inexplicable sense of relief. “Do you need anything else before you go back to bed?”

Percy shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “Thanks, Cassia.”

Chapter Text

Percy took a deep breath, braced himself, and then tossed his coin into the rainbow. “Oh Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Calypso, at Camp Half-Blood.”

The rainbow shimmered, and then cleared to reveal Calypso in the woods of Camp Half-Blood. She was weaving what looked like chainmail, except that it flowed like fine cloth. Percy resisted the urge to get a closer look and cleared his throat instead.

“Hey, Calypso.” She whipped around, eyes wide and startled, and stared at him. He cleared his throat again, chest tightening in discomfort. “I’m sorr-”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, her surprise falling away. Percy stopped, leaving him and Calypso to stare at each other in awkward, painful silence for a very long moment. Eventually, Calypso broke the stalemate. “I’ve uttered that curse a hundred times, for a hundred heroes that left me behind. I don’t know why it was this time it struck.”

Because the Fates hate me, Percy thought bitterly. He tried to push the thought away. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “Everything’s either an apology or an excuse.”

“Not an accusation?”

“No,” Percy said without thinking. “As soon as it happened, I knew that I deserved it.”

Oh, that was a bad sign. Maybe agreeing to talk to Calypso hadn’t been a good idea.

“Did you even try?” Calypso asked quietly.

“I did!” Percy insisted. He scrubbed his hands over his face, frustrated. “I, I did. I made the gods swear to release you from your curse. I... they kept their other promises. They swore on the Styx.”

“But you didn’t check,” Calypso said. “You didn’t look for me.”

“I didn’t have time!” Percy protested, allowing his frustration and distress to come through. “There were dead to bury, there were cabins to build, new head counselors to train, and, and then I said that thing to Thalia and got sent here for three months-”

“Said what?”

“That... that I was thinking about killing myself,” Percy forced out, looking up at Calypso with all of his emotions on display. “Like, seriously considering it.”

“...You weren’t thinking about me at all, were you?” Calypso’s face was hard to read, but it was shadowed and unhappy, with a touch of resignation.

Percy wanted to protest, but after a minute, he dropped his head in defeat. “No,” he admitted softly. “I was thinking about the campers we lost, and, and how dangerous I was and all the ways I messed up, and how much happier people would be if I was dead.”

“Okay.”

Percy blinked, taken aback. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Calypso repeated, crossing her legs. Her hands twisted the fine chainmail in her lap. “I don’t really know what to say. I still wish you hadn’t forgotten about me. But... I can see why you did. You had priorities, and I wasn’t one of them.”

It was true.

“I’m sorry,” Percy said quietly. “You deserve better, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t give that to you.”

Calypso took a deep breath and nodded hard. Then she looked up and said, “I’m not apologizing for the curse. I said in anger the things that anyone might say in anger. But...” He looked at her. She didn’t look how he remembered her, too focused and assessing. She was still very pretty. “I’m sorry about what happened to Annabeth. And I’m sorry that I blamed you. You didn’t deserve the weight of a thousand years of bitterness.”

It was so far out of the realm of what Percy had expected that his breath hitched, his vision glimmering wetly for a moment before he managed to blink the tears away.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “And... I’m glad Leo was able to go back for you.”

Unexpectedly, Calypso smiled, warm and happy. “Me too.” She shifted, rearranging herself into a more comfortable position. The air seemed to clear, tension draining away. “Now, what happened? Why are you at the hospital? I didn’t understand everything Leo told me.”

“Oh.” Percy winced, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. “Um, the same reason as last time, really. My mental health was getting bad enough that I was gonna hurt myself, and the staff here are really good at walking kids back from that. I’m better enough now that I’m starting to feel like myself again, but I won’t really be ready to go home for a few more weeks.”

“I didn’t know you could come back from that,” Calypso said. “What do they do there?”

Percy made a so-so motion with one hand as he tried to decide how to explain. “A lot of it is education. Trauma warps how you think, so we have to kind of retrain ourselves to not assume the worst all the time. There’s a lot of teaching us how to calm ourselves down in healthy ways, and then we do a lot of talking about bad things that’ve happened to us and telling each other that it wasn’t our fault.”

“What if it was?” Calypso asked, looking genuinely curious.

“Then we usually talk about better ways to handle it,” Percy said. “But most of the time it’s like, I broke a glass so I deserved to be screamed at for ten minutes, so everyone else can go, no, that’s fucking insane, you didn’t deserve that.”

“And that helps?”

“You mean, does it help to stop thinking that every bad thing that’s ever happened to you is your own fault?” Percy said ruefully. “Yeah, it does.”

Calypso nodded thoughtfully, and then asked, “Would it be all right if I visited next week?”

Percy started to nod, then hesitated.

“I’d be okay with it,” he said, “but I don’t know if Annabeth would. Have you talked to her at all?”

Calypso grimaced, then shook her head. “I’ll... apologize,” she said, somewhat reluctantly. “She didn’t deserve my blame any more than you did.”

Percy smiled at her gratefully. “Thanks, Calypso.”

“I don’t know where to start with the Doors of Death,” Percy said to Raine. They were walking in the forest again, pacing up and down the familiar path, and he was clutching Fang to his chest. Ruya had repaired the seam for him. “I really want to play through it. I don’t know how I’d get through the whole thing otherwise. But there’s so much that I couldn’t explain that way.”

“You don’t have to go with just one method,” Raine said. “It’s fine to use a combination that works for you. Can you tell me what’s on your mind?”

“’M thinking about the journey from the Acheron to the Doors,” Percy explained, keeping his eyes on the path in front of him. “I thought about skipping it, but even that trip was, was awful.”

“Tell me about it.”

“We had to travel across the heart of Tartarus,” he said. His stomach twisted, bringing up nausea for the first time in weeks. “It was... it beat. You could hear his heartbeat coming from the ground. It was so loud, I- I felt like it was in my bones.” He swallowed. “It glistened, like, you know, like an exposed organ would. It was slippery. It pulsed. And the, the veins were full of- of the water of the Underworld rivers. The Lethe, the Styx, the Acheron, all of them.” He looked at Raine, breath quick. “When I had that flashback in biology – that’s where I was. He started talking about the circulatory system, and... and I could feel Tartarus’ heartbeat. The rush of the Underworld rivers.”

Unexpectedly, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, and his knees buckled. He stumbled, and Raine caught his arm to help him regain balance. Percy gestured weakly, and they both sat on the ground. Percy was shaking.

“Tell me five things you can see,” Raine murmured. Percy didn’t answer. “You’re in the woods by St. Joan’s, Percy. Can you tell me what you see in the woods by St. Joan’s?”

“I...” Percy swallowed. His throat felt dry, but with effort, he was able to focus on the trees in front of him. “I see... tree bark. Um, pine needles.” He took a breath. It wasn’t quite deep enough, but it was something. “I see, um, a squirrel. The path, and... ferns.”

“Very good, Percy,” Raine murmured. “Can you tell me four things you can feel with your body?”

He took another shaky breath, and groped blindly at the ground beside him. “I feel... dead pine needles. Um, dirt. I, I feel the cold. And... your hand.” Raine had taken one of his hands in hers, trying to ground him. “Oh... I dropped Fang.” He pulled away to pick the toy back up, clumsily brushing off the forest debris.

“You’re doing great,” Raine reassured him. “Can you tell me three things you can hear right now?”

He closed his eyes. Breathe. “I hear... birds. The stream. And the highway.”

“Very good. Can you tell me two things you can smell?”

He took a deep breath, and felt it fill his chest this time. “Leaf litter and the stream.”

Raine nudged her hand against his, and he took the gum without looking, popped it into his mouth, and focused on the sharp mint flavor for a minute. When he felt a little better, he spat it into the wrapper and stuck it in his pocket. “Okay.”

“Can we talk about what happened for a minute?” Raine prompted softly. Percy nodded without looking at her, feeling worn out already. “Do you know what overwhelmed you?”

“It was such an overwhelming sense of... of danger,” Percy said. He picked Fang up again and drew his knees to his chest, folding around the soft toy. “With that sound all around us, a-and all of those rivers... and then we were walking through an army of monsters. Every monster we’d ever fought – every monster anyone had ever fought, titans and giants included. A-and for fuck’s sake, I was still afraid that Bob was going to change his mind again. And the air, the, the burning...” He took a short, sharp breath, let it out, and forced himself to take a slower, deeper one. “I don’t think I should’ve even been able to comprehend that amount of danger. It, it should’ve been like a thousand people clapping, where your brain just blends it together into one big blur. I want it to blur. I don’t want to know these things.”

“It will blur with time,” Raine said quietly. “All memories do.” A breath passed, and he felt her take his hand again. “Can you go to your safe place for me?”

Oh, yes, please, Percy wanted to say. Instead, he nodded jerkily and focused.

The taste of sand in his mouth. Warmth, leaning up against Sally, with her arm around him. Blueberry strings, his mother’s laugh. The heat of the campfire. The bag of seashells at his feet, the smell of burnt marshmallow. Saltwater, crashing waves. The highway, the sting of campfire smoke. His mother’s scent of chocolate and warm sugar.

“Good,” Raine murmured. “Very good.”

His breath evened out. Eventually, when he felt ready, he sat up and opened his eyes, shaking his head like he could banish the daze that way.

“Do you want to keep going?” Raine asked him.

He swallowed twice, thinking about it and taking stock of himself. Finally, he nodded. “I... yeah. Think I’ll stay here though.”

“Alright,” Raine said. “What else can you tell me about that day?”

It was a good way to put it, open-ended and patient. Percy appreciated it.

“The whole time...” he murmured. “The whole time, I was wondering if Bob would change his mind. The first time he showed up to help us, I, I was too scared to look a gift horse in the mouth. But after the arai...” He trailed off for a second, moistened his lips, and swallowed. “On the heart of Tartarus, we kept running into his brothers, the other titans. They welcomed him as a brother. Why was he staying with us? Why... what had we ever done for him? Why would he choose us?”

“You didn’t feel safe with him anymore,” Raine noted softly. Percy swallowed again.

“Annabeth did, I think,” he said. “I don’t know why I was so much more shaken. I, I just kept thinking...” He shook his head, huffing in frustration, and hugged his toy again. “I don’t know. I guess... I kept expecting him to realize we weren’t worth it.”

“Your self-worth had already taken a lot of damage by then,” Raine reminded him. “I’m sure his... lapse didn’t help.”

He shook his head, stiff and numb. “When we got to the Doors,” he said at last, “they were chained. That... that was what kept things from staying dead. Bob... Bob e-explained to us how... how it would...” His breath hitched. “W-work. The, the button, that...”

I will push the button.

Completely outside of his control, he started sobbing, his breath catching on wails and his body folding over again. His mouth hadn’t been able to keep up with his racing thoughts, and they tangled into a knot of grief, guilt, horror, despair. How was he supposed to express the crushing realization of what their escape would cost them? The desperation, the crash of fear, the weight of their ordeal bearing down on them?

A particularly harsh keen made him gag, and he leaned over to cough up a mouthful of mucus. It wasn’t until then, trying to catch his breath after the spasm, that he registered Raine’s attempts to soothe him. An arm around his shoulders, a low murmur of nonsense comfort and reminders to breathe. He leaned against her and hiccupped miserably, clutching Fang like a lifeline.

“I think you’re done for the day,” Raine said after a while, softly, when Percy showed no signs of calming down any further. “Do you want to take a nap, or head to the art house?”

“Nap,” he mumbled, voice coming out scratchy. “But can I still go to the art house after?”

“I think it should be okay this time,” Raine murmured. “Come on. Up you get.”

It was rare, but not unheard-of for kids to skip most of a day’s activities. Violetta had done it a couple of times, and Nico once so far. Skipping just one was more common – all of them did it once or twice. Really, the only non-negotiable blocks were individual and group therapy.

Percy felt a little better after taking a nap, but still emotionally bruised, so he decided to retreat to the art house and take Lucas’ advice. Working with a pencil to outline everything before he started painting, Percy drew the first image to really appeal to him: a kelp forest, with a variety of colorful fish half-hidden among the fronds. It wasn’t super detailed or anything, but it was soothing.

Cassia came to get him when the time came, kneeling beside him to speak.

“Do you feel ready to come to group?” she asked, voice low and soft.

Despite himself, Percy grimaced. “I don’t really wanna,” he mumbled, pulling his knees close.

“I know,” Cassia soothed. “You had a rough morning, didn’t you? You can take Fang along if you want, and you can keep your participation light. You don’t need to be at your best every day.” Percy still hesitated. “We’re talking about values today. No trauma, just what you care about and how to work on that.”

Percy gave in. “Alright,” he mumbled. “That sounds okay.”

He followed Cassia into the main building, and they reached the playroom just ahead of the other kids. When she appeared, Annabeth beelined for Percy and hugged him.

“Damn it, Percy, you scared me to death,” she said, pulling back to scowl at him. “Raine had to tell me where you were! And all afternoon?”

Percy winced, but before he could apologize, Cassia stepped in.

“Annabeth, I understand that you were frightened,” she said patiently, making Annabeth look over with a scowl. “Can you try to express that to Percy instead of getting angry at him?”

Frustration, then anxiety flashed across Annabeth’s face, and she looked back at Percy and examined him like an insect. Finally, with a hint of stiffness, Annabeth said, “I was worried about you.”

Percy wasn’t actually expecting the change that wrought in him, but he practically melted, tension and guilt easing into something like gratitude.

“Sorry,” he said. “I should have let you know. Raine lets me skip a block or two if I’m stressed out enough, that’s all. It was a rough morning.”

Annabeth exhaled, searching his eyes for a moment before she nodded and stepped away.

“We’re talking about this later,” she said, and Percy nodded back, fond and unsurprised. They’d fallen into the habit of cuddling for about an hour before lights-out, and it was a good time to talk.

The others trickled in, taking their time, and Lucy waved to Percy as she sat down. Nico gave him a nod, eyes flickering down to Fang in Percy’s lap, and Ruya sat nearby and gave the shark an affectionate pat. Cassia waited for everyone to settle down before they started warm-ups, and they went around the room with comforting familiarity.

“We’re going to talk about values today,” she explained at last, centering herself toward one end of the room. “I’m not going to ask you to make or share a list, but I’d like to discuss where they’re important and how to decide what to emphasize. Can anyone think of some times when it’s important to know what you value?”

Nico raised a hand, but didn’t wait to be called on. “Uh, what do you mean by value?”

Cassia hummed in understanding. “The virtues and principles that are important to you,” she explained. “Honesty, compassion, generosity, and consistency are all important, but you should know what matters most to you.” She looked back at the room. “Why should you know that about yourself?”

“Choosing between friends,” Annabeth suggested. “If you need to take sides for some reason, you need to figure out what’s important to you.”

“Oh, god, I would die,” Lucy winced. Percy was tempted to agree, except he knew exactly what Annabeth was thinking of: him and Luke.

“Can you expand on that a little?” Cassia asked Annabeth. Annabeth grimaced, crossing her arms and leaning back.

“If your friends are fighting about something,” she said. “Something too important to ignore, like an attack or something. You need to decide what’s important to you, because that’s the only way not to regret your choice.”

Cassia gave her a solemn nod. “On the extreme end of such choices,” she said, “but very important. Well done, Annabeth.” Annabeth shrugged. “Anyone else?”

“Making any kind of difficult decision?” Violetta ventured, fidgeting with her clothes. “It’s hard to know what the right choice for you is if there’s no good choice.”

“That’s very true,” Cassia agreed. “Can anyone say more about that?”

“It’s not always a choice between right or wrong,” Ruya suggested. “Sometimes it’s a choice between health and happiness, or honesty and compassion. Those choices can be really hard if you don’t know what’s important to you.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Ruya,” Cassia praised. “Anything else?”

“It sounds like a self-esteem thing, too,” Amethyst offered. “Knowing what you think a good person would do can help you make a choice you won’t feel bad about later. What if you choose honesty over compassion because you think you have to, and you realize later that compassion is more important to you?”

“That’s an excellent point,” Cassia said warmly. “You’re all still rather young, so most of you haven’t figured out what your core values are, and that’s okay. We’re just going to discuss some today, and you can decide what you think in time.”

Cassia stood at the front and wrote things down as they were brought up: Lucy brought up generosity, and Ruya offered thoughtfulness. Violetta launched a discussion on sensitivity and tact. Nico named honesty, Annabeth named loyalty. Percy stayed out of it for the most part, following the discussion while he fidgeted with Fang.

Cassia never let that stand for very long, of course.

“What do you think, Percy?” Cassia asked, when there was a break in the conversation. “Have any of your values changed from last year?”

Percy hadn’t considered that. Last year he’d named selflessness, integrity, and loyalty as some of his core values. Now...

“Conscientiousness,” he decided at last. “Being mindful of what your friends need – that’s important. You can’t be careless.”

“Can you make some room for compromise?” Cassia prompted gently. “Or would you like me to open it up to the room?”

Percy hesitated, belatedly recognizing the problem, and slumped back with a sigh. “Open it up,” he muttered.

“It’s a hard one, isn’t it?” Ruya mused. “Because you want to be careful all the time. But that’s not realistic. No one’s perfect. There needs to be room for mistakes.” She glanced anxiously at Cassia, looking for validation, and relaxed when Cassia gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Intent doesn’t overrule effect,” Violetta added, slow and thoughtful. “I guess... I mean, how careless is careless?”

“I think,” Amethyst said, “that you should try and put things at about the same priority as your friends do. Right? So if its really important to them, you make it really important to you.” She shrugged, tucking her hair back. “And sometimes ‘really important’ isn’t good enough. You can think something is important and still mess up.”

Annabeth was studying Percy intently, like she was trying to read his mind again, but she picked up the thread after a minute anyway. “Conscientiousness is about being thoughtful,” she said. “You’re trying to do what’s best.”

“It’s about trying,” Lucy agreed. “If you do something you know might affect someone badly, that’s not being conscientious. But if you do something, and something bad happens unexpectedly – it’s not that you didn’t try. Things just happened.”

Some of the tension left Percy, and he nodded mutely. Cassia studied him for a moment, and then smiled at him and let the conversation move on.

Chapter Text

“You can’t laugh at me,” Percy said without looking up, focusing on setting up the toys. Not as many as he’d used for Nyx and her brood, but still a lot.

“I won’t,” Raine promised him.

Percy took a deep breath and nodded.

He had a tissue box for the elevator of death, and he’d turned Raine’s box of soft toys on its side so he could use it as a surface. For now, though, he stayed on the floor. He picked up Luna.

“There’s so many, how will we ever get through?” he said for Annabeth, and then picked up Bob. “It’s okay. We can make it. We have help.” He dropped Annabeth for his own figure. “Damasen? Damasen!”

He dropped Bob’s figure so he could pretend to hug the friendly giant, represented by a stocky Hagrid doll. He hoped it wasn’t obvious to Raine how long he’d been thinking about this fantasy.

“I’m done waiting,” Percy said for Damasen, wiggling the figure as he spoke. “I will take my destiny into my own hands. Together we can escape this awful place.” He returned to himself. “We can make it. We can make it. I believe in us.” Bob. “On three. One... two... three!”

Somewhat impatiently, Percy used the various figures to batter aside the monsters, clearing a path to the Doors of Death. He made grunts and battle noises, but they were halfhearted. He avoided looking up at Raine, embarrassed by the childishness of what he was about to do.

He piled all four figures into the tissue box and lifted it up to the surface, then dumped it out. He started standing them back up with one hand, and with the other, he grabbed a bear that had been waiting on top.

“You made it!” he said for Frank, and then made them hug. “You’re okay! I was so worried!” He dropped Frank for a Hermione, and repeated the song-and-dance for Hazel, then Nico, then Jason, Piper, and even Leo, having them hug and tell him how happy they were that he was safe. He picked up Jason’s eagle and prompted, “Who are these guys? They look dangerous.” For himself, “Not to us! This is Bob and Damasen, they helped us get out!” For Jason, “Oh wow, that’s amazing!” For himself, “I know, right?” He hugged Bob, then Damasen. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Percy paused to wipe his eyes. It took a couple of tries.

“Can we get some food?” he asked for his own figure. “I’m starving!” For Piper, he said, “Yeah! Let’s go! Bob, Damasen, you should come too!”

With care, he set them all up like a picnic. He sat each figure down, put some tiny plastic play-food on their laps, and had them om-nom-nom like he was four years old. Finally, he had Bob’s figure look up.

“Hello, stars!” he said for Bob. “Hello, moon! Hello!”

Percy put the figures down, covered his face, and let the tears flow silently, his breath only catching and hitching every so often. Without a word, he grieved the loss of what they never really could have had. Their journey through Tartarus was never going to have this happy ending. Any happy ending.

When he felt ready, he sat up again, but still didn’t look at Raine. Instead, he leaned heavily on the box, staring down at the figures.

“So,” he said roughly, and cleared his throat. “That’s... not what happened, obviously.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Wishful thinking.”

“You’re allowed to have that,” Raine said gently. “It helps you mourn the loss of what could have been.”

He nodded wearily, head still bowed. “It was never gonna happen,” he told Raine, heavy and hollow with defeat. “It was Tartarus. No happy endings allowed.”

“What did you get, if not a happy ending?” Raine asked.

Percy rubbed his forehead and sat up to squint at her. “What?”

“You’ve compared your life to a Greek tragedy before,” Raine said, rolling her pen between her fingers. She looked contemplative, like she was picking her words carefully. “In a tragedy, a hero’s flaws are their downfall, and no one gets what they want. In a comedy, your ‘happy ending,’ a hero’s strength helps them overcome the obstacles before them. Which of these do you think your journey through Tartarus falls under?”

Percy blinked hard, willing the tears away, and picked up the Hagrid figure to play with. “Then why does it hurt so much?”

“Can you tell me what your thought process was?” Raine prompted softly.

Percy slumped against the box, leaning heavily on the cardboard. “It... I see what you’re getting at,” he admitted, reluctant. “A lot of stuff happened to us down there, but... but we overcame all of it, or at least what we could. We didn’t mess anything up too badly. Bad things just happened to us.”

“Do you think you can answer your own question, then?” Raine asked. Percy lowered his head, weathering the storm of his unhappy emotions.

“Because comedy doesn’t mean that everything was easy,” he said. “It just means that it ended as well as it could have. You won more than you lost.”

“And did you?” Raine asked.

“Did I win more than I lost?” Percy asked, staring at the fallen figures. “...Yeah. I guess.” He sighed. “Sorry. I’m not cooperating, am I?”

“That’s alright,” Raine said. “You’re not obligated to feel better every time I make a point. It’s understandable that you’re struggling to reconcile your grief and trauma with the idea of a happy ending. Can you tell me about the scene you played out?”

He crossed his arms and set his cheek down. “I just... wanted everything to be easy for a minute,” he murmured. “No button to press. No guards at the Doors. No one waiting on the other side except my friends. I, I wanted us to win for once. Everybody lives.” He swallowed, breath hitching. “We never get ‘everybody lives.’”

“You wanted a perfect ending,” Raine said quietly.

Percy hiccupped. “I-is that so much to ask?”

“Isn’t it?”

Percy buried his face in his arms. “What’s a happy ending if it’s not an ending where you’re happy?”

“You’ve been happy,” Raine reminded him, gentle and understanding. “You’ve had a lot of good days since you came home. Can you think of them?”

No, Percy wanted to say. With effort, though, he cast his mind back.

“There was that night when we all hung out in the playroom,” he said at last, softly. “And when we played Down by the Banks and shadow tag. Um... I’ve gotten a lot better at the self-esteem activities, and I’m starting to enjoy them again. Oh!” He smiled affectionately, feeling some of the tension in his chest ease up. “I met David and Cacao. That was really nice.”

“There we go,” Raine encouraged. “You’re starting to remember now.”

Percy nodded wearily and made himself sit up. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what happened.”

“You’re exploring the dark places in your head,” Raine reminded him. “You won’t always be able to find your way back out on your own. That’s fine, that’s why I’m here.” She nodded at the playset. “Are you ready to go back in?”

Percy grimaced, but took a moment to assess himself and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll set things back up,” he sighed, and put away some of the figures while returning the rest to the floor. “Can we play music again? I’ve got that stupid Pina Colada song stuck in my head.”

Raine muffled a snort and went to get his MP3, setting it up while he rearranged dolls. The tissue box went back on the floor, and himself, Annabeth, and Bob some ways away. Then he put his palms flat on the floor and took a deep breath, steadying himself until Kimya Dawson started to play from Raine’s computer. He nodded at nothing, then crossed his legs and picked up Bob.

“This way, friends,” he whispered for the titan, and walked all three of them quietly through the monsters. One ambushed them after a minute, and Percy said, “Brother! It is good to see you! I hear a godling wiped your memory! Let us find him and rip him to pieces!” He switched back to Bob, wriggling weakly. “Yes, rip him to pieces... ha ha...”

He made Bob pat him and Annabeth on the backs, urging them forward, and they went on to the doors. He laid down all three to hide, but kept wriggling them for talky motions. He had to take another deep breath to brace himself; this had been where he tripped up the day before.

“We cannot rush for the Doors,” he whispered for Bob. “Someone will need to hold the button for twelve minutes so the others can escape.” He made both figures gasp in horror. “Yes. I will hold the button.” He wriggled Annabeth. “Bob, we can’t ask you to do that.” Himself. “You wanted to get out too. You wanted to see the stars.” He tapped Bob on the ground. “Yes. But someone must hold the button.” He wriggled his own figure. “But what about the monsters?” He rolled Bob over, so he was turned away. He tapped his own figure once. “Oh.”

Percy hesitated then, considering. He wanted to explain what he’d almost done to Raine, to share those awful thoughts he’d had, how Percy had suspected that he would never escape the pit. But he didn’t think he could make himself say them out loud. He’d have to play it out.

He went on.

“We need to cut the chains,” he said for himself. “Let’s go.” He placed himself and Annabeth behind the Doors, and marched Bob up to the front. For Bob, he said, “Brothers.” He took up Hyperion. “Well, if it isn’t the scullery maid. Betty?” Back to Bob. “It’s Bob.” Hyperion. “Well, whatever your name is, make your choice. Will you fight us, or will you come over here and give me a break?” He switched to Krios. “No, I want a break!” Hyperion. “I’ve been standing here longer! I want to go kill heroes!” Krios. “I want out of-”

Unexpectedly, Percy choked on the words as raw terror shoved them back down his throat. A tremor shook his whole body, and he had to shake it off. He listened to the music play for a minute, and then cleared his throat.

“Um, Krios insulted Tartarus,” he said, softer than he’d meant. “I don’t think I can make myself repeat it.” Without looking up, he grabbed a rough, black ragdoll, the face ripped wide open. He waved it over the dolls and made a shrieking noise so terrible that Raine jumped. He smashed Krios and Hyperion with the ragdoll for a second before tossing them away, then knocked all three remaining dolls over. “I SENSE AN INSULT!”

He gave Raine an apologetic glance before he kept going. She shook herself and gave him a nod, her brow pinched in concentration.

“FORGET THE TITANS!” he yelled, deepening his voice into a weird bellow. “FORGET THE GODS! FORGET YOURSELVES! I AM TARTARUS, AND I CONSUME ALL!” He forced his own figure to its knees, making it stare up at the ragdoll in horror. “No... Please...” He wriggled the ragdoll. “YOU SHOULD FEEL HONORED TO DIE AT MY HANDS!” He shook his own figure. “No... no... no more... I want to go home...”

Belatedly, Percy realized it was taking monumental effort to suck in breath, so he abandoned the toys to sit on his heels and breathe. In for a count of five, hold, out. In, hold, out. His hands were shaking, and tears trickled down his cheeks. He listened to Lullaby for the Taken. After a minute, his chest loosened again.

“I’munna play out some more stuff that didn’t happen,” he said at last, without looking up.

“Alright, Percy,” Raine murmured. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He picked up Annabeth’s figure and his own, and turned his toward her. “You have to go,” he said, and then, for Annabeth, “What?” He wriggled his figure. “Bob can’t hold the button and fight too. I’ll have to help him. Go. Please.” He took a breath, and then said for Annabeth, “I can’t leave you.” For himself, “Please. I love you. Please go.”

With care, he tapped the two figures together and then pushed Annabeth into the tissue box, lifted it up, and let her out on top of the soft toy box. Then he picked up Ragdoll Tartarus, made the horrible screeching sound again, and threw himself and Bob across the room. Raine didn’t object, which led Percy to conclude that it was okay just this once.

Well. Twice.

He went to pick the figures back up, returned Annabeth and the box to the bottom, and started again.

“You have to go,” he said again, his figure facing Annabeth’s. He tapped Annabeth hard and said for her, “No. We leave together or not at all.” Himself. “But-” Annabeth. “I said no. We stick together, remember? All that matters is that we’re together.”

He tapped them together again – a kiss or a hug, he didn’t know – and faced them towards Tartarus. He lifted the empty tissue box back to the surface, and then grabbed Ragdoll Tartarus. With the exact same brutal motions, he screeched, grabbed all three figures with it, and threw them across the room.

Deep breath, in, hold, out. LA Song, Beth Hart, playing in the background. He set everything back up, putting himself and Annabeth half in and half out of the tissue box.

“Leave them alone!” he said for Bob, hitting Tartarus with a broom. Tartarus hit Bob back, and Percy made him fall dramatically before he switched back to himself and Annabeth. “Annabeth, go inside, I’ll hold the button,” he said for himself, and then, for Annabeth, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving without you.” Back to himself. “I have to help Bob.” Annabeth. “I know. We’ll both go.” He reached for Damasen. “Not so fast! Father, I come to challenge you!”

Percy put Damasen on a large snake toy and made train noises as it slithered in, and bumped them back and forth in battle for a minute, growling and hissing.

“Go!” he shouted for Damasen. “I cannot win this battle, but I can give you twelve minutes!” He switched to Bob. “Go, friends. I will hold the button. Say hello to the sun and the stars for me.” He picked up Annabeth and tapped her against Bob. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Finally, he put both himself and Annabeth into the tissue box and lifted it on top of the makeshift table, then tipped them both out. He spoke without looking at Raine, just leaning heavily on the box.

“We passed out right before we hit the surface,” he said quietly. “There was, um, like, a whole other fight when we woke up, b-but I’m not really up for that right now.”

“I understand,” Raine said. “How are you feeling?”

Percy scrubbed his hands over his face.

“’M gonna have to do it again tomorrow,” he mumbled. “There’s a lot of stuff I didn’t really get across. A lot I didn’t, um, get to express.”

“I’m glad you’re able to recognize that,” Raine said gently. “How are you now?”

Percy stared down at the dolls and tried to figure that out. “Kind of shellshocked and tired,” he decided. “I’m glad I did it this way, because I’m still not sure I could’ve just talked through all of this without freaking out. But it wasn’t as, um, as cathartic this time. I’m... I’m kind of disappointed about that.”

Raine nodded in understanding. “Play therapy can be hit-or-miss with complex emotions,” she agreed. “But it did seem like you were able to express some specific fears and wishes that you might not have been able to otherwise.”

Percy’s shoulders relaxed at the reminder. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah. That was good.” Something occurred to him, and he looked up. “Oh... I didn’t ever tell you about the prophecy we were working with, did I?”

“You didn’t,” Raine agreed, leaning forward.

Percy exhaled. “It was... Seven half-bloods shall answer the call, to storm or fire the world must fall, an oath to keep with a final breath, and foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.” Raine inhaled sharply, and Percy nodded. “Yeah. It’s a lot. But, um, it’s over now.” He looked away. “That last line, and foes bear arms to the Doors of Death – that was, was this. A titan and a giant helped us to reach the Doors.”

“I see,” Raine murmured. “So it was like Bianca. There was nothing you could do.”

It felt at once like relief and defeat.

“No,” Percy said. “I guess not.”

In the morning, Percy couldn’t get up.

Well- okay, he probably could, in theory. But every time he tried, he started thinking again, trying to figure out how to talk about everything he needed to talk about today, and he just sank back down. He felt heavy and sad, and getting out of bed seemed like a monumental effort. If that meant ignoring people so he could stay curled up like a baby in a belly, so be it.

“I can get him up,” Annabeth said, outside his door. “Percy has his moods, but he’ll listen to me.”

“I’m sure you can, Annabeth,” Raine reassured her. “But we want you to be able to focus on yourself right now. I’ll talk to him, and I’ll ask for your help if I can’t get through, alright?”

“...Alright.” Annabeth sounded reluctant. “He does really like you.”

The door opened, and Raine came in and closed it behind her. There wasn’t a lot in the small dorm room, so she sat beside the bed and spoke softly.

“Good morning, Percy,” Raine said. “It looks like you’re having trouble getting up this morning.” Percy grumbled, burrowing into his arms. “Is it today’s topic? We can wait longer if you’re overwhelmed. We don’t have to do it today just because we said we would.”

Percy hesitated, then rolled over to meet her eyes. “I’unno what’s wrong with me,” he mumbled. “I want it to be over. I, I want it behind me.”

“I know,” Raine murmured. “You’re nearly through the most difficult parts of your recovery now.” She set a hand over his. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

“Tired,” Percy said quietly. “Stressed. Um, I try to think about how to say stuff before we talk, but...” He trailed off.

“Would you like to take some quiet time with Cacao to do that before we start today?” Raine asked. “And we can put some of your more intensive self-soothing measures in place too.”

Percy picked at the sheets. “What if we do all that and I still can’t do it?”

“Percy, if intensive self-soothing isn’t enough to let you get through this, that simply means that you aren’t ready yet,” Raine said gently. “And that would be okay. If you weren’t ready for years – that would still be okay. Confronting trauma is very difficult. Your comfort is our first priority here.”

“I don’t wanna carry this for years,” he said.

“I know,” Raine soothed. “The idea must be frightening. But you’ll hurt yourself if you force yourself through it before you’re ready. That’s the last thing we want.”

“What happens then?”

“It’s hard to say for certain,” Raine said, keeping steady eyes on him. “It might make therapy more difficult for you in the future. It might damage our working relationship, or add complications to your processing of this event. What it certainly will not do is help you. It’s important that you be as clear-headed and comfortable as possible, because that is what will let you open up and be honest with me and with yourself.”

Percy hid his face. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I guess that was a stupid question.”

“Not at all,” Raine said firmly, and then made a deliberate effort to soften her voice again. “I understand that you want all this to be behind you. Really. But we can’t get there by rushing you to the end.” She squeezed his hand. “If you can’t get through this today, we’ll work on finding more ways to help you cope until you can. You’ll be alright.”

Chapter Text

Thankfully, cashing in every trick in his book seemed to work. Percy sat on the floor in a corner of Raine’s office, his mom’s music playing from the headphones around his neck. He could smell the sea, and Cacao was warm and heavy in his lap. Altogether, it soothed him almost enough to doze while he was thinking about what to say.

“Tartarus didn’t have a face,” he told Raine at last, carding his fingers mechanically through Cacao’s fur. “He had... a vortex. It sucked in everything around him, you could see... trails coming from everything that he was pulling in. He had this, this screech that sounded like a subway in a tunnel, but a thousand- a million times worse. And he talked funny, like the words were going into him instead of coming out.”

“How did you feel about that?”

“I dropped my sword,” Percy said quietly. Tension was starting to creep across his shoulders, but he could cope with that. “I’ve never been so scared that I dropped my sword before. I... for a moment I thought I was literally going to pass out from fear.” He stroked Cacao, slow and soft. “He wasn’t a monster. I don’t know what he was. Worse than a monster. Worse than a god or a titan. He was... Well, he was the primordial of the worst place imaginable. One and the same.” He glanced up, feeling drained already. “When he breathed in, things just broke apart. Krios and Hyperion were destroyed, like, instantly. I... I thought we would be too.”

“And then?”

“H-he told us that we’d come too far,” Percy mumbled. Deep breath, smell the sea, listen to the music. “And he couldn’t let us go on. He... he said that we should feel honored. Even the Olympians have never fought him.” He wiped his eyes. “We were so close.”

“You did get away,” Raine reminded him. Percy swallowed and nodded shakily.

“I didn’t think I was going to,” he said. “I don’t know why I thought that, but... I dunno, the whole time I was down there, I... I just had this feeling like I was never getting out.”

“Your mental state was already nosediving by then,” Raine noted. “It may have been your worsening pessimism at work.”

“Huh. I didn’t think of that.” Percy scratched Cacao’s head. She thumped her tail and cuddled into him. “Bob... Bob stepped between us then. I don’t really understand why he was so protective of us, but I’m so grateful. He was almost as outmatched as we were, but he still...” Percy took a breath. Scent of the sea, faint music in his ears. “He told us to take the Doors. Tartarus set the monsters on us then, but we could handle that. The Underworld rivers were really useful then.” He rubbed her neck. Cacao rolled in his lap, panting happily. “I knew Bob wouldn’t be able to hold Tartarus off for long, so I told Annabeth to get in, and I’d hold the button.” To his own surprise, he smiled, soft and affectionate. “I don’t know why I thought she’d really do it. She never would.”

“How did you feel, telling her to go without you?” Raine asked. Percy contemplated that for a moment.

“...I don’t know,” he admitted, for the first time in a while.

“We have all the time you need.”

“I wasn’t unsure about it or anything,” Percy tried, scratching Cacao’s ruff. “I didn’t resent it, but I was scared and sad. It just... seemed like the only option.” He shrugged, eyes on Cacao. “I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Raine nodded. “And then?”

Percy scoffed at his knees.

“Then we were stuck,” he said. His voice wavered. “Couldn’t step inside, there was no one pressing the button. The Doors would open up and spill us into the abyss or something. And we couldn’t step out to help, because the Doors would close behind us and leave, and we’d be stuck there. We just had to stand there, on the margin.”

His voice strained and wobbled more the longer he spoke, and when he finished he had to swallow a painful lump in his throat. Cacao nosed against his hand and licked it a few times, trying to comfort him. It worked pretty well.

“How did you feel then?”

“It would have hurt less to be ripped apart,” Percy said honestly. “I could’ve screamed, or cried, or howled or something. It still wouldn’t have gotten that pain out.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “We’d fought so fucking hard to get there, and we were an inch away from getting out. And we weren’t gonna be able to do it. Can... can you imagine working so hard, a-and going through so much, only to still die in Tartarus? We might as well have drowned in the fucking Cocytus. It would’ve saved us so much pain. It, it would have been easy.” His voice broke. “I mean- it would’ve been selfish. But easy.”

He made a soft, startled sound when Cacao rolled around to sit up and nuzzle under his chin, still panting. It was cute, and his hands moved to pet her automatically. She slumped against him and slid back down, having successfully reminded him of her presence. Percy looked up at Raine, disoriented.

“Why would that have been selfish, Percy?” Raine asked softly.

“Because we still needed to cut the chains,” Percy said after a moment, voice small. “That was the biggest reason I let go instead of trying to pull us up. We... we needed to close the Doors of Death.” He lowered his head, then leaned down to hug Cacao. “I-it didn’t matter how much we went through. We had to close the Doors.”

“It matters to you.”

Percy burst into tears. They were mostly silent, but he hiccupped and gasped into Cacao’s ruff, cheeks wet. He tried to focus: soft fur against his cheeks, the faint smell of clean dog and the sea, Regina Spektor playing from his headphones. It was still pretty hard to calm himself.

"No one laughs at God in a hospital, no one laughs at God in a war..."

He wiped his eyes.

“Raine,” he said, “what’s a fate worse than death if you’re already suicidal?”

Raine considered him for a moment, expression solemn.

“I suppose it depends on your perspective,” she said. “But in my opinion... nothing. Death is the end of everything. No more pain, and no more joy.” She shook her head. “Unless you’re no longer capable of feeling joy, your life is still worth living.”

“Only if you’re going to the fields,” Percy said without thinking. “If you pass close enough, you can hear the people on Elysium singing and laughing.”

Raine’s expression transformed into open concern, and she came out from behind her desk to sit in front of Percy and take one of his hands. “Easy, Percy. Do we need to transition to de-escalation?”

“What?” Percy retraced the last few steps of the conversation and blanched. “Ahh! What the hell happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Raine said gently. Percy shut his eyes and tried to think about it.

“...I was too fixated how I felt in Tartarus,” he decided, and took a deep, steadying breath. “It doesn’t matter anymore what would have been easier then. I’m on the other side of it, and I’m alive. I’m... I’m trying to move past the pain I felt then, and feel good things now.”

Raine squeezed his hand. “That was very good, Percy. I’m proud of you for being able to take a step back and calm yourself.” Percy managed a weak smile, and Raine continued, “Do you need a break, or would you like to keep going?”

Percy hesitated, and shifted to cuddle Cacao better. “Let’s keep going,” he decided. “Um, if it happens again, I’ll take a break then.”

Raine gave him a warm smile, then prompted, “What broke the stalemate?”

"No one laughs at God when the cops knock on your door, and they say 'we've got some bad news, sir.'"

“Tartarus started beating Bob pretty badly,” Percy said quietly, “so Annabeth and I agreed to step out of the Doors and help him.” He shrugged. “We were in a no-win situation anyway, and we couldn’t just stand there.”

He played with Cacao’s ear. Cacao lolled against him, completely blissed out, and Percy almost smiled.

“How did you feel then?”

Percy hesitated, then sighed. He rubbed Cacao’s cheek with his thumb, and she let him, content to be fiddled and played with like a toy.

“Relieved,” he decided without looking up. “One way or another, it... it was going to be over. We’d cut the chains. And facing Tartarus – that would be a quick death, defending our friend. Way better than laying around in Tartarus until the sulfur killed us.”

“And now?”

“Kind of the same, really,” he admitted. “I mean – I’m glad we got out. We survived, and I got to see Mom again and return to camp and that all means so much to me. But dying like that – having done what we’d gone there to do, still together, and defending Bob the best we could... if I had to die in Tartarus, that’s how I would’ve wanted it.”

He expected Raine to call him on it, but she just nodded solemnly and prompted, “Then what happened?”

Percy smiled faintly. “Damasen showed up. I didn’t really understand until then how much stronger the giants were than the titans. I mean, there was the resurrection thing, but besides that...” He trailed off.

“How did you feel then?”

“I was thrilled,” Percy admitted. “It was like all the hope we’d lost came rushing back. Even more when we could see that Damasen was putting up a pretty good fight.” He rubbed Cacao’s ruff, pensive. “They told us to go. Damasen was good, good enough to buy us enough time to reach the surface, but he was never going to win.”

“How did you feel about that?”

“I’m still trying not to regret it,” Percy said, without looking at her. “I mean- I know in my head that they wanted it, and it was probably good that Annabeth managed to get me into the Doors. But I still feel so guilty. I, I left them to die. Who does that? I’m... um, having trouble coming to terms with it.”

Raine gave him a proud smile, not quite letting go of his hand.

“It will take time for you to make peace with what happened there,” she said. “Try to remember that this is what they wanted. They wanted you to live, thrive, and move on from that place.”

"No one's laughing at God, no one's laughing at God, we're all laughing with God."

Percy opened his mouth to make a self-deprecating joke, caught himself, and just smiled sheepishly instead, rubbing his cheek with his knuckles. “Yeah.”

“What happened then?” Raine asked. Percy exhaled shakily. He caught the smell of the sea, and tried to relax.

“Then we left,” he said. “Um, Bob warned us that we’d have to keep the Doors shut, or they’d open and like, spit us into the abyss or something.” He closed his eyes, shifted, and relaxed as Cacao squirmed and resettled against him. The smell of the sea, the sound of his mom’s music. “I was... furious. I wanted to scream and rage about how unfair it was that Bob and Damasen were going to die. And... I felt powerless, and angry about feeling powerless. I was angry that I couldn’t just make there be a better way.”

He exhaled, slow and careful.

“You’re doing well,” Raine encouraged softly. “You’re almost done.”

Percy nodded vaguely without looking. “Twelve minutes,” he said. “We were in that elevator for twelve minutes, holding the Doors closed, listening to that stupid Pina Colada song. After the first couple of minutes, we didn’t even talk. We were too exhausted. At some point, I just started thinking about how it still hurt to breathe, even though the air was clear.” He rubbed his chest. “I wasn’t even happy, or relieved or anything. I just... wanted everything to be over.”

“And for the next few days after you returned?” Raine prompted.

“The first couple days were okay,” he said. “We drank some nectar and breathed easy for the first time in forever, and we were so tired that we passed out for like, two days. Um, I think it was about half a day after I woke up that I noticed how tired Jason was, and I realized I hadn’t offered to guard the boat. They probably felt uncomfortable asking after what happened.”

“How do you feel about that?” Raine asked.

“Pretty bad,” Percy admitted, reaching down to play with Cacao’s tail. “What was days for me and Annabeth was weeks for them. Jason must’ve been guarding the boat by himself all that time. He was probably exhausted.”

“What does your compassionate voice say?”

Percy faltered, and then softened, tension falling away even as he looked back down at Cacao. “It says... I went through a lot in Tartarus, and they knew that even if they didn’t know details. Jason was trying to be a good friend by letting me recover from it.”

Raine smiled at him. “You’ve done very well today, Percy. I know it took a lot of strength to get through that story.”

Percy managed a smile. “Yeah,” he murmured. “But we did it. I did it.”

“You did it,” Raine agreed warmly. “Do you want to take some time to rest now?”

Percy barely thought about it before shaking his head. “No. Can we do the tension thing again?”

“I finished with Tartarus today,” Percy told Annabeth, once they settled in to cuddle. It had been routine for long enough now that the others knew to let them have their time, so the playroom was theirs for the moment.

Annabeth smiled, faint and tired, and rolled to look at him better. “How’s it feel?”

“Great,” Percy said honestly. Both of them were sitting up, and Annabeth leaned against him while Percy leaned on a shelf, his arm around her shoulders. “I mean, it was hard. I’ve been, like, babying myself to get through it. But it’s so much better, Annie.” He squeezed her hand. “The trauma’s still there. But all the baggage that came with it, the, the guilt and anger and fear... Most of that’s gone.”

Annabeth turned his hand over and rubbed his palm with her thumb. “I asked Mai if I could do sessions with Cacao too,” she said. Percy forgot sometimes that she loved dogs even more than he did. “She said we could, but she’d have to coordinate with Raine or call in a different handler.”

Percy bumped his cheek against her. “You should be okay. Cacao mostly helped me with Tartarus sessions. Other stuff might come up, but I can’t think of anything right now.”

Annabeth managed a smile and a nod, leaning on him a little more heavily.

“I’m having a hard time getting the hang of it,” Annabeth admitted. “I’m used to dealing with feelings by trying to think rationally, but apparently that’s not conducive to emotional growth. Go figure.” Percy snorted at her dry tone. “We’ve talked about nightmares, self-soothing, trust issues... a lot of exercises for calming down and feeling safe.” There was audible relief in Annabeth’s voice. “But she won’t tell me anything about how I’m supposed to approach trauma therapy.”

Percy frowned. “What does she say?”

“She just says it’s up to me,” Annabeth griped, leaning in closer. “Which makes sense, but it doesn’t tell me anything useful – what to talk about first, what to focus on, nothing.”

Percy thought he understood the problem. “You sort of... talk about whatever you’ve been thinking about lately,” he explained. Annabeth shifted to face him better, frowning. “You think about the stuff that’s bothering you, right? So you tell her that stuff, and she helps you figure out what’s bothering you about it and how to make you feel better.”

Annabeth spread her hand over his, pressed palm to palm and fingers to fingers.

“That doesn’t seem like it would get much done,” she said. “Isn’t it a shot in the dark?”

Percy shook his head. “Not as much as you’d think. You give a lot away just saying what’s on your mind.” He played with her fingers. “Um, a couple weeks ago, Raine asked me how I feel about my temper, and she could tell from my answer that I had a lot of shame and frustration around it. And then she started guessing where it came from based on stuff we’d talked about before.”

“And she got it?” Annabeth asked.

“And she got it,” Percy agreed. “We’re doing that stuff next. Looking forward to it already.” Even Percy wasn’t sure whether or not that was sincere.

Annabeth stared down at their joined hands. “I want to ask, but...”

Percy softened. “No, I get it. You’re still pretty stressed out.” He squeezed her hand. “This is more of a long-term issue anyway. We can talk about it when you’re all done here.”

Annabeth relaxed, leaning into him again. “The Mark of Athena quest,” she decided, surprising Percy. She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll start with that, I think. Thanks.”

Percy hadn’t realized that was still haunting her so much. He gave her another kiss, this time on the mouth, which they both lingered over for a few seconds before pulling apart. Both of them were quiet for a little while, enjoying the company.

“Hey,” Percy said at last, when the thought bubbled up. “Have you prayed to your mom, since, you know?”

Annabeth stiffened, but didn’t twist to look at him. “No. Why would I?”

Instinctively, Percy tried to smooth her raised hackles. “I know I don’t know what happened. But she’s always answered your prayers before, right? You and I both know how special that is.”

Grief and resentment flickered across Annabeth’s face, and she both stiffened and leaned into him. “Why would I ask for her help now?”

Percy played with her fingers for a moment. “When I mentioned Tartarus to my dad,” he said at last, “he gave me a charm for the nightmares. I think... that if she really didn’t mean it, your mom might like having a chance to prove she loves you.”

Annabeth sighed against his arm, low and harsh. “...Alright. Sure. I’ll think about it.”

Chapter Text

“Before we start today, I did need to tell you something,” Raine said, so carefully mild that it made Percy frown at her, concerned. “I’ll be spending this weekend at home. Letitia promised to look after you in the meantime, and I’ll be back on Monday as normal.”

Percy understood immediately. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of snow over his head. “I’m sorry,” he said before he could stop himself. Then he grimaced, and tried to shake the guilt off like a fly. “I mean... okay.”

Raine gave him a surprisingly understanding smile, though to Percy it looked more tired than normal. “It’s alright,” she said. “I know this is hard on you, and a break in routine at this stage can be rough.” She rubbed her pen, slow and contemplative, and then continued, “I went to Letitia last night and expressed concern about my ability to keep my composure during the next few sessions, and this is the solution we came up with. I’m sure you can understand that spending a few days with my wife is exactly what I need right now.”

The unexpected reference to Annabeth made Percy smile, and he tried to relax. “I didn’t know you had a wife.”

Raine chuckled. “It’s poor therapeutic practice to talk too much about yourself to patients,” she explained, “but, as you can imagine, our circumstances call for a little bit of flexibility.”

“Is she clearsighted too?”

“No, but she’s wonderfully understanding,” Raine said, with clear affection. “Some of the ways you’ve talked about Annabeth have reminded me of her.” She shook herself. “Regardless- I wanted to lead with that because I knew it would rattle you. If you want to talk about that first, we can do that.”

Percy bit his cheek, and then gave in. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Raine’s smile this time was almost ironic. “Is it your fault that you’ve experienced a remarkable amount of trauma in your lifetime?” she asked. “I don’t think so. You didn’t ask for any of it, and you have every right to seek help to heal. Agreeing to take on some of your pain is integral to being a therapist, and I have no regrets about doing so.” She shrugged. “You’re here because you were hurt, and you were hurt because someone hurt you. Is that your fault?”

Percy relaxed, and he gave her a grateful, more genuine smile. “No,” he said softly. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Raine said easily. “Now – I think you’ll agree that you are no longer in a state of psychological emergency, correct?” Percy considered that, and was pleased to find that he agreed. “Then I think it’s time to start experimenting with the braces you’ve been using to keep you stable. How do you feel about that?”

Percy frowned, but it was more thoughtful than wary. “Okay,” he decided. “I’ve been doing really well, and... I don’t feel so worn out anymore. I can take a bad day or two.” He kneaded his shoes on the floor. “So... there’s the medication, obviously. We talked about that. Oh, but- I know we were planning on Saturday, but can we start that Monday instead?” He was too embarrassed to admit that he didn’t want to step it down without her. How much of his anxiety was the medication suppressing?

Raine hummed in surprise. “Yes, of course. Thank you for thinking of that.”

Percy relaxed. “I’m not sure what else,” he admitted. “School?”

“Not yet,” Raine said. “Even when you’re released, I don’t think you should return to a full school schedule right away, or even regular tutoring. You need some time to settle into a normal routine at home first. But, it might be helpful for you to start thinking about extracurriculars you might enjoy. A local art class, a rock-climbing club, martial arts – something like that. Interacting regularly with your peers again would be good for you, and it would let you get used to socialization again before you return to your role as a camp counselor.”

Percy shrugged. “Okay.” Nothing really came to mind, but he could look. “What, were you thinking of something else?”

“Your charm,” Raine said simply, nodding at it. Percy stiffened. “I won’t try to set a limit on how you use it, that’s entirely up to you, but dreams are an important part of how your brain processes day-to-day life. I would like you to start relearning how to sleep without it.”

Percy wrapped his hand around the charm, but had to admit he understood the idea well enough. “...How often do you think?” he asked at last.

Raine seemed to consider that for a moment. “It will depend on whether or not your nightmares have eased,” she decided. “If you stop wearing it and discover that you’re still having intense nightmares fairly regularly, I would only ask you to leave it off once in a while. It’s important that you get your rest. On the other hand, if you discover that your rest is merely disturbed, I might ask you to only wear it when you’re unable to get adequate sleep otherwise.”

Percy played with the charm for a moment.

“I’ll think about it,” he said at last. “I... I get why it’s important.”

“That’s all I ask,” Raine said. “If you find that even occasionally sleeping without it is overwhelming to you, we can discuss it again. Have you been keeping track of your goals?” Percy winced, and Raine laughed. “That’s alright, I thought you might not have. Would you like to go over them?”

“Sure?” Percy suggested, crossing his arms to eye her with confusion.

Raine flipped back in her notebook. “Almost three months ago, these were the goals you set for yourself,” she said. “You wanted some nightlights for your room, and you wanted to make sure Annabeth had some as well. You also wanted to get one or both of your ears pierced, and to get a purple hoodie.”

Percy pinched his earlobe. “I forgot about that,” he said. He grinned. “Maybe when I get out.”

Raine smiled back, then prompted, “And the others?”

“The other...” Percy trailed off. “Oh! I guess I did those.” The realization pleased him. He’d had his nightlights for two months, and he’d given two to Annabeth when she’d arrived.

“Yes, you did,” Raine agreed warmly, and then, “Even the purple hoodie?”

Percy smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. I saw one when we were out at a store, so...”

“I’m glad you spoke up when you saw something you knew you wanted,” Raine told him, and then looked back down while he beamed. “You wanted to become better friends with Jason, Leo, and Piper, and to ask Paul about his parents.”

“I haven’t done any of those,” Percy admitted, and then perked up. “Oh, wait – Leo and I have had some really good talks since then. I don’t know if we’re friends yet, but we’re closer than we were.”

“That’s very good,” Raine assured him. “I’m sure you’ll have more time to work on those when you’re on the outside again.” Percy nodded vigorously. “You also wanted to speak to your father about Tartarus.”

Percy hesitated, scratching at his jeans, and then said, “I’ve done some of that. Not a real conversation yet, but I’ve been praying to him, and sometimes I can tell that he’s listening. I... I told him about the Phlegethon, and the shrine to Hermes that fell down there. Um, a little about the heart of Tartarus.” He shrugged. “Some.”

“It sounds like you’re doing a good job of opening up to him,” Raine said. Percy relaxed. “You also wanted to get your GED, talk to your parents about changing your high school plans, and find out the application requirements of the university in New Rome.”

Percy brightened. “Yeah! I talked with Mom about it already – Paul wasn’t really part of the conversation, but we figured that stuff out. And I haven’t asked about that university yet, but I can call Frank or Reyna this weekend and ask.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Raine said. “You said you wanted to sleep more, and vomit less.”

Percy grinned. “Zero vomiting this month,” he said, brushing off the gagging thing from a few days before. “My sleep isn’t really up to par yet, but I’m definitely doing better than I was then.”

Raine paused. “Is something bothering you aside from the nightmares?”

Percy shrugged. “It’s still challenging to settle down enough to fall asleep in the first place. It’s, um-” He turned pink. “It’s gotten better since Annabeth got here, since we’ve been hanging out right before bed.”

“That’s very good,” Raine assured him. “We’ll work on building a routine to help you settle yourself for bed soon, but regular skin contact is very good for helping you manage your stress levels. We’ve also established that as an excellent form of low-effort intimacy for you.”

Percy’s blush deepened, but he managed an embarrassed nod.

“You wanted to learn some new skateboarding tricks, play a new video game, and take an art class,” Raine prompted, glancing down. Percy smiled.

“I did start a new video game since then,” he said. “Kid Icarus is turning out to be pretty fun. I wasn’t really up to the other two, but I’ll have time when I get home.”

Raine flashed him a smile, and then continued, “You wanted to keep a dream journal, pray to your father, and practice drawing your feelings.”

Percy smiled wistfully. “I’ve been praying to Dad once or twice a week, telling him about how things are going here. That’s going really well. Uh, I didn’t like the dream journal, even when I started making voice recordings instead. And I’ve practiced drawing my feelings a lot. It’s helped a ton.”

“That’s all three,” Raine pointed out, earning a grin from Percy. “Now- you wanted to paint something on a large canvas, design an aquarium, and make something for Annabeth.”

“I forgot about designing an aquarium,” Percy mused. “But I think I wanna figure out what to make for Annabeth first. Maybe the big canvas can be for her.”

“Whatever you want,” Raine said warmly. “Last set. You wanted to go a day without being triggered, go a week without a flashback, get back to sleep after a nightmare, to repair your link with Grover, and be less anxious at night.”

Percy rolled those over in his head. “I’m able to go most days without getting triggered now,” he said. “It helped when I figured out what my mealtime trigger was. It was, uh, spicy food, because of the Phlegethon.” He smiled sheepishly. “Ruya pointed it out, said she thought it was because I’m white.” Raine chuckled. “That really sucks, I like spicy food, but I’ll figure it out later, I guess. Um, I haven’t had a flashback since I got here, which is really nice. I also haven’t run into any serious triggers though.” He shrugged. “Don’t know about the nightmares, I guess I’ll find out soon. I’ve got the empathy link back.” He tapped his chest with a grin. “And I’m still anxious at night, but I can usually regulate it by myself, so that’s way better for sure.”

Raine smiled at him. “You’ve made an amazing amount of progress in the last couple months,” she pointed out. Percy nodded.

“Thanks,” he said, a little quieter. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“You would have found your way,” Raine said firmly. “It was your own strength that brought you here as much as anything else. You should be proud of yourself.”

It said a lot that almost everyone took a moment to say something encouraging to Percy before they lined up for the gauntlet.

“You deserve this,” Lucy said to him at the door.

“I’m glad you’re here, everyone has good things to say about you,” Violetta said, when she came in.

“You look ready for this,” Ruya said, more simply.

Percy jittered as he waited for everyone to line up, and he was nudged toward the head of the line until he was right behind Mike, who shot him a grin before taking his own place.

“You’re more thoughtful than you think,” Percy said earnestly. Mike scratched his head and grinned.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend,” Amethyst said as he passed her. They fist-bumped.

Lucy hugged him, making Mike huff in surprise and hug her back before they both let go. “You make people feel safe,” Lucy told him.

“You’re fun to be around,” Nico said. It might have been Percy’s imagination, but he didn’t think it was as stiff as Nico had been the previous gauntlet. He didn’t look relaxed, but he seemed more confident.

He couldn’t really say the same of Annabeth, and she refused to look directly at Mike. “You seem respectful and I appreciate that,” she said. Mike flashed her a grin.

“Boundaries were hard for you when you got here, but you’re really good with them now,” Violetta told him, and offered him a high five. He accepted.

“You’re going to get that scholarship,” Ruya told him, making him beam. Mike rejoined the back of the line, glowing with delight, and then it was Percy’s turn.

He stepped forward.

“Seeing you fight has been really inspiring,” Amethyst told him, “and it makes me work harder too.”

Percy’s face blazed with heat, and his heart stuttered – just a slight swell of adrenaline, like he was doing something unsafe but not dangerous. He grinned at her, and she flashed him a brief grin back.

“Talking to you helps me understand what the therapists are trying to say,” Lucy said, and when Percy startled with surprise and delight, she smiled at him.

“I know I can depend on you,” Nico said, unexpectedly heartfelt. That brought the first couple of tears to Percy’s eyes, but he wiped them away and gave Nico a grateful grin.

Annabeth reached out to brush their fingers together, softening just for him. “There’s no one I trust like I trust you,” she told him, which made him smile.

“When I talk to you, no matter what it is, I can tell you understand,” Violetta said, which made him flush and squirm with pride.

“I like spending time with you,” Ruya said. Percy wiped his eyes again and grinned.

Mike grinned back. “You made it!”

He offered a hug, and Percy accepted it and the quick, manly slap on the back before he returned to the end of the line, feeling giddy.

The rest of the session went smoothly. Percy hadn’t seen Nico walk the gauntlet before, and maybe his focus hadn’t been all there last time anyway, because Nico’s eyes went glassy halfway down the line. He didn’t cry, but he held himself very, very still for the latter half.

Annabeth, on the other hand, started off looking vaguely exasperated, then turned tomato red after two steps. She looked, Percy thought, almost confused, flattered but disoriented.

“What did you think?” he asked her afterward, squeezing her hand as they walked out. Nico stayed behind, probably taking time to compose himself before he left.

Annabeth was quiet for a minute.

“I wasn’t expecting it to feel so nice,” she said at last. “I thought they’d tell me how smart I was and be done with it.”

Percy kissed her on the cheek. “You know how smart you are,” he pointed out, steering her toward the art house. “You needed to hear other things for once.” Percy had made a point of it; he’d told Annabeth how good she was at working to improve herself instead. He was glad everyone else had focused on other things too. “You don’t like being told you’re smart?”

“I like it,” Annabeth denied, frowning contemplatively at the ground. “But it feels different. Most of the time, it just makes me feel smug. This was...” She trailed off. Percy understood. He bumped her playfully.

“Now you know why Cassia didn’t let you out of the self-esteem exercises,” he said.

“Yeah,” Annabeth conceded. They got almost to the art house before she said, “You handled that really well. How do you just... get rid of a trigger that bad? None of mine have faded that suddenly. Or much at all.”

Percy bumped her gently. “It depends on the trigger,” he said apologetically. “I can take a compliment now, but I still can’t sleep in the dark. You know?” He fiddled with her fingers. “This was... Raine and I have spent a lot of time working on built up guilt and shame that was making that stuff hard for me. Once that was more or less cleared up, I felt comfortable with compliments again. So you’ll have some of that stuff, and other stuff that just needs time.”

Annabeth exhaled with irritation. “This is such a pain.”

Percy let out a startled laugh. “Yeah, isn’t it?” he agreed warmly.

They settled together in the art house. Annabeth still didn’t have the focus necessary for blueprints, and she was reluctant to touch anything resembling weaving. She’d settled on popsicle sticks instead, and claimed a corner to slowly glue together a replica of the Eiffel Tower. Percy watched her for a while, which Lucas allowed for about ten minutes before he interrupted.

“As cute as that is, Percy, I’d rather you work on your own projects rather than watch Annabeth work on hers,” Lucas said, audibly amused. Percy glanced up and gave him a sheepish smile. “I saw that you’ve been painting images of the sea again. I’m glad you took my suggestion to heart. Have you been enjoying yourself?”

Percy nodded, and then glanced at Annabeth again and lowered his voice.

“Raine and I went over some goals I’d set a few months ago,” he told Lucas, cheeks reddening. “I’m thinking about painting something for her on a big canvas, but I dunno what I’d make.” A year earlier, it would have been the Parthenon, but that wasn’t really appropriate anymore.

“I’m afraid I don’t keep any large canvases on hand,” Lucas said apologetically. “But you could design something to work on when you go home. Do you have any ideas?”

“Not really,” Percy said. “I was thinking something with architecture and water, but nothing really fits. Hoover Dam and the St. Louis Arch are out for personal reasons, and I can’t think of anything else.”

“What about the Sydney Opera House?” Lucas suggested. “It’s considered an architectural marvel, and it’s very distinct. It’s set over water as well.”

Percy’s memory easily supplied Annabeth’s stream of consciousness. “The guy who designed it won an award,” he said. “They had to use computers to put the roof together, and they cast the arches out of a sphere.” He grinned at Lucas. “That’s perfect. Thanks. Do you have a picture of it in one of your photo books?”

“I believe I do,” Lucas said. “Why don’t we go look for it?”

Chapter Text

Whatever Percy felt when he saw Coach Hedge, it made both satyrs jump. Coach Hedge raised both eyebrows, looking put out.

“Hello to you too, cupcake,” Hedge said, bemused. “What crawled up your ass and died, huh?”

Percy winced, frustrated with himself. It was just Coach Hedge, and he’d already promised himself that he wouldn’t make a big deal about what happened on the Argo. “Sorry. It’s nothing. You’re here to see Nico, right?”

“Last I checked, there were three of you kids here,” Hedge pointed out.

Luckily for Percy, Nico was actually pleased to see Hedge, and he distracted the older satyr while they went to settle by the woods, scattered across the grass. Though Percy knew Annabeth was close to Hedge, she stayed by him, and Grover took up his other side. It was... really nice, stretching out on the grass with his best friends on either side. Hedge was bragging about his baby.

“Already toddling around like a respectable baby goat!” he said, lounging back with a lazy grin. “He takes after his papa, I can already tell. Ain’t nothing ever gonna keep that boy down-”

Someone coughed, and Percy looked up and met Calypso’s eyes.

“This is a small space to spend three months,” she said evenly. Percy’s hands clenched and unclenched nervously, and Annabeth glowered down at her arms. After a moment, she softened, looking more weary than cool. “Are you doing better? Leo’s been worrying.”

That was a surprise. Percy hadn’t thought Leo liked him that much. “Yeah, I am. Raine says I should be ready to go home in a few weeks. And maybe this time I won’t get kidnapped.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Annabeth snapped, suddenly twice as tense. Percy reached over to grab her hand, then bumped their heads together gently, and she relaxed, leaning back against him with a sigh.

“How are you handling things?” Calypso prompted, in such a stilted voice that Percy suspected it was the first time she’d spoken to Annabeth directly – except, hopefully, to apologize. Annabeth gave her a long, mistrustful look before she replied.

“Just great,” she said. “I need a teddy bear and a nightlight to feel safe, I’m wetting the bed like I'm five years old, and everything I try to talk about in therapy makes me angry. Everything’s great.”

"You’re what?” Grover said. Annabeth’s cheeks reddened.

“Forget it,” she ordered them. “It’s nothing. Mai says I’ll get over it.”

Percy debated with himself for a moment, and then confided, “I did that a couple times too, early on. Paul says it’s a sign of anxiety and insecurity. Your subconscious wanting to be cared for, or something.” It had been mortifying and baffling, but then, his whole body had been revolting after the trauma of the last few months.

Annabeth nodded grudgingly. “I looked it up after the first couple of times,” she said. “Regression as a coping mechanism. Pretty common in traumatized children and adolescents. I don’t have to like it, though.”

“It would be weird if you did,” Grover told her, then smiled reassuringly. “It’s cool. After this last quest, anyone who has a problem with however you cope can choke on my reed pipes.”

Annabeth gave Grover a wry, grateful smile.

“How’ve you been settling in at camp?” Percy asked Calypso. “Are you planning on staying?”

“Only as long as Leo is, I think,” Calypso said. “It’s nice there, but I’d like to see more of the world. I’ve had enough of being stuck in one place.” She shook her head. “It’s not for me, anyway. I don’t belong in a demigod haven.”

“I can’t imagine,” Percy said, relieved to dig up some genuine sympathy for her. “How’s Leo doing? I remember he’s been seeing a therapist too.”

He started as Leo spun around, turning away from Hedge to flash Percy a grin.

“Pretty good,” Leo said casually, like he’d been part of the conversation all along. “Vanessa’s great, like, fantastic. I’ve never had this much positive validation literally ever.”

Percy smiled at him. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“So nice,” Leo agreed emphatically.

They fell into conversation, comparing notes. Leo talked for a while about fretting over the contributions he’d made to the quest, and then apologized to Percy and Annabeth for letting them fall. Both of them forgave him, obviously, and Percy mentioned finishing up the initial trauma therapy sessions as well as Raine’s brief break over the weekend.

“That’s rough, dude,” Leo said, also sympathetic. Percy grimaced and nodded.

“Letitia’s working with me today and tomorrow,” he said. “Which is honestly better than me taking a break too. We talked about, like, compassion fatigue and burnout and stuff. Secondhand trauma, that sort of thing.”

Leo winced. “How bad does trauma have to be to give secondhand trauma?”

“Not as bad as you’d think, apparently,” Percy said. “Letitia had this long explanation about mirror neurons and sympathetic reactions.” He smiled a little. “As a bonus, it kind of explained why I was shutting everyone out so much for the first couple of weeks. I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth for that stuff.”

“It’s hard to imagine you not having the energy to comfort people,” Grover admitted. “It goes to show how bad off you were, I guess.” Percy nodded, and Grover craned his neck to look at Annabeth. “And you?”

Annabeth scowled, then deflated with a sigh. “It’s looking like we’ll have to start family therapy as soon as I’m done with the first round of trauma work,” she said, clearly annoyed about it. “Once I’m stable, I mean. I’d rather put it off, but unfortunately almost everything we talk about ends up leading back to that.”

Percy put out his hand, and Annabeth stared at him. “Me too,” he explained. Her exasperation turned to fondness, and she lightly high-fived him. Percy grinned, wry but relaxed. “All roads lead to Gabe.” And Mom, but that was still kind of a touchy issue.

The conversation lulled, and they were able to hear the other conversation. Nico was complaining about group therapy and how embarrassing it was.

“I’m just saying, what do communication skills have to do with nightmares about pomegranates?” Nico said, picking at the grass with a scowl. “We had a whole session where all we did was talk about how to refuse to do things. What was the point of that?”

“That was mostly an abuse thing,” Percy cut in, making them look over. He shrugged. “It’s hard to learn to set boundaries when you learn early that they won’t be respected. But it’s a good life skill in general too.” After the previous year’s boundary work, he and Annabeth had had a really good talk about their boundaries with each other. They’d even talked about finances for the first time.

Nico made an aggravated noise. “I’m going to be an encyclopedia of abuse recovery skills by the end of this.”

Percy laughed. “There are worse skillsets to have.”

“Georgie and I have been talking about maybe reading my dad in,” Piper volunteered unexpectedly, crossing her legs. “It’s been really back-and-forth. On one hand, Dad’s said before that he wouldn’t want to know if there was a higher power, because he’d always be upset with it. But if I don’t tell him, we’ll probably never be much closer than we are now.”

“That’s tough,” Percy agreed. “It’s kind of a choice between your wellbeing and his.” Piper nodded. “Well, what would he choose?”

“I... think he’d choose to know,” Piper admitted haltingly. “But it feels wrong to be making that choice for him.”

“Then let him make it,” Annabeth said. “Give him the option of coming to do family therapy with you, and let him know that he’ll learn some things he’ll probably wish he hadn’t. Tell him that you won’t be mad if he doesn’t want to know, but your therapist thinks your relationship won’t improve if he doesn’t.”

Piper hesitated, then nodded slowly. Then again, more firm. “Yeah... yeah. I think I can do that. Thanks, Annabeth.”

“Tell him you’re okay when you do that,” Hedge said unexpectedly. “You put it like that, he’s gonna think the worst.”

Piper blinked, giving Hedge a startled stare. “Sure. I’ll... do that?”

Hedge gave her a rough nod and then looked at Percy. “And you- what’s your problem? You’ve never had an issue with me before now.” To Percy’s surprise, there was even a trace of hurt in Hedge’s voice.

Percy squirmed. Everyone was looking at him now. He looked at Grover, and Grover nudged him encouragingly. Annabeth did the same on his other side.

“Uh,” he said. “As long as you remember that I’m here because I need help self-regulating, not because of anything anyone did.” Hedge gestured impatiently. Percy dropped his gaze to the grass and rolled to lean into Grover, who shifted to accommodate him with a hand across his back. It was nice. “There was one person on that boat with magical empathy. Which means there was one person who knew how I was feeling, even if I didn’t say anything.”

Unsurprisingly, Hedge was immediately on the defensive. On the other hand, Grover’s arm tightened protectively around Percy.

“You said it yourself, you didn’t say anything,” Hedge argued. “Why should I assume you wanted help? I’m an empath, not a mind-reader.”

Percy nestled his cheek into the crook of his arm. “I never said it made sense.”

“Coach is the only person who came to help us,” Jason reminded him, not unkindly. “It sounds like it’s something you need to talk through with your therapist. You don’t need to take it out on Coach Hedge.”

I’m not, Percy wanted to protest. “Yeah, I know. I’ll get to it.”

“He comes through when it counts,” Nico threw in, without looking at anyone.

Annabeth pressed against Percy’s other side, correctly guessing how he was taking the deluge of pushback. Grover tensed, ready to step in, which Percy was grateful for.

“Leave him alone,” Leo cut in unexpectedly. “Coach, you asked what his problem was, remember? It’s not his fault you didn’t like the answer.”

“True ‘nuff,” Hedge conceded, to Percy’s relief.

“Why would knowing how you felt mean he should have stepped in?” Calypso asked, with what appeared to be genuine curiosity. “Wouldn’t it be just as natural to assume you wanted space?”

“Not at that point,” Percy said. “Coach knows what I’m talking about.” Hedge looked away, scowling. “And, I mean – I get it, really. Hedge had a lot on his mind, especially personal stuff. I just wasn’t a priority. But knowing that he knew, and he just ignored it...” He caught Hedge’s eye, making sure to speak directly to him. “It makes me feel like you don’t care about me.”

That made Hedge visibly uncomfortable. “I don’t comfort people just ‘cause I’m an empath,” he snapped. “You’ve known me five years now, when’ve I ever done that sort of thing? That’s Grover’s bit.”

“I know,” Percy said tersely, repressing the urge to huddle against Grover any more than he already was. “I know, okay? I get it. Really. I still think you’re a really good person and a great protector. But...” He took a deep breath. “But, I don’t need or, or want a friend that won’t help me when I’m suicidal.”

The indrawn breath that went around the group was clearly audible, and Hedge looked like he’d been smacked in the face with a fish.

“Didn’t... that start after Coach had already left?” Jason prodded, cautious and suddenly uncertain.

“No,” Percy said shortly. “When I first got on that boat, I was already worse than I’d ever been.” His fingers twitched in the start of a fist. “I’d lost eight months of my life, I had to leave my mom a voicemail to tell her I was alive, and I’d almost drowned like two days earlier, which is the stupidest way for a son of Poseidon to die. Was I supposed to be happy?” He took another deep, careful breath and scrubbed one hand over his face. “Forget it. I’m not upset with any of you, I was on purpose trying to keep it to myself. I’ll get around to forgiving Coach too, okay? I just have a lot of stuff to work through.”

He'd let himself get too emotional; despite his weak assurance, most of the others now looked guilty, Annabeth most of all. Percy tucked his face into his elbow.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m, uh. Not exactly finished processing yet.” He bumped his shoulder against Annabeth’s. “Don’t look like that. I did tell you, and you made time for me.”

“Not enough,” Annabeth said, but she looked comforted and pressed against his side in commiseration. Then, lower, “We’re talking about this later. I think you didn’t tell me everything.”

Percy winced. ‘Worse than I’d ever been’ had probably shown more of his hand than he’d meant it to, at least to Annabeth. After all, there wasn’t a lot of downhill left at that point.

“Hell, kid,” Hedge said, and looked away. Most of the others were staring at him too, now, waiting to see how he’d respond. “You know no one else volunteered? Not one nature spirit on that damned property asked to go along. Just wanted to let you kids handle it on your own, ‘cause that’s how quests are done.” He huffed. “I knew I wasn’t at my best. My heart wasn’t in it. But I couldn’t let you kids go alone.”

“I get that,” Percy said again, feeling tired. “It was good of you. You came to help us.” He wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. “But I really needed help, Coach. And you chose not to help me. That’s, uh. That’s hard to get my head around.”

Coach Hedge stared at him for a while, expression shadowed and unreadable.

“...Fair enough,” he conceded at last, and didn’t argue any further.

“I was going to tell you,” Percy insisted nervously, when he and Annabeth were on their way down the path. “It just, um, it didn’t seem like the time. You’ve been so stressed out, a-and it isn’t urgent, I, I figured it could wait. I didn’t want to upset you when you were already having such a hard time.”

“I’m not mad at you, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said without looking at him, too distracted to censor herself. “But I need to know. Now.”

They’d reached the creek, and Percy sat down on the bank. Annabeth sat right next to him, and Percy reached up to tangle his bead necklace and his charm together, nervous and jittery.

“You said you were worse than you’d ever been at the beginning of the quest,” Annabeth said, sharp gray eyes boring into him. “But last year you were telling Thalia that you were seriously thinking about killing yourself. I... I don’t like how close that is to the edge already, Percy.”

Percy’s heart squeezed, and he wanted to pull her onto his lap and hug her instead of explaining. But Annabeth would never let him get away with that.

He took a deep breath instead.

“I hit rock bottom a couple weeks after Tartarus,” he said quietly. “When I went underwater with Jason, something triggered me pretty bad, and I- I tried to kill myself.” Then, quickly, as if it would cover his confession, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

The undisguised panic in Annabeth’s eyes yanked at his heartstrings.

“What happened?” she demanded. “Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Percy grabbed her hands, trying to ground her.

“I didn’t really understand what I was doing or what I was feeling,” he said, managing to keep himself steady enough for Annabeth to cling to. “It didn’t really register until I was talking to Raine about what happened. I promise, if I’d realized I was doing that bad, I would’ve talked to you.”

“I can’t lose you,” Annabeth said, with uncharacteristic desperation. “Not at all, but especially not like that.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he tried to soothe her. “It’s okay, we put new crisis plans in place and stuff. I’m okay.”

Annabeth took in another quick, ragged breath. “What happened? What were you thinking?”

Percy hesitated, then hugged her again, tight and embarrassingly needy.

“I hated myself, and I felt like my life was over,” was what he settled on. “I felt like I was doing a bad job on our quest, and I felt awful about everything that had happened in Tartarus. I’d failed another school year. I hadn’t seen my mom in almost a year. We were facing impossible odds again and I felt weaker than ever, and the hits just kept coming. I, I was ready for it to be over.”

Both of them were crying now. Was Percy allowed to feel bad about that?

“Were there signs?” Annabeth demanded. “Something I can recognize even if you don’t?”

“I... yeah.” Percy figured it would help her to have something to hold onto. But first- “It’s okay, Annie. I’m okay. This was months ago. I’m doing really well now.”

Annabeth closed her eyes and nodded hard, and both of them spent the next couple of minutes breathing slowly and carefully, letting themselves and each other cool down before they kept going.

“Signs,” Annabeth ordered at last, in a much steadier voice. Percy laughed raggedly, and they pulled apart just enough to look at each other properly.

“Yeah, okay,” he murmured. “Um... I was fishing for compliments about stupid things, like how cool my powers are, because I was so desperate to feel good about myself. I was spending a lot of time by myself, because trying to interact with anyone was more than I could manage. And, um, I was extra pessimistic. I was kind of assuming the worst possible outcome every time we made a plan, and I thought everyone else was too.”

Annabeth’s grip tightened. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice.”

“Hey.” Percy nudged their cheeks together, trying to comfort her. “We were all dealing with a lot, and neither of us knew what to look for. We do now, and things are better. We’re okay.”

“We will be,” Annabeth said.

Chapter Text

“You’re kidding.” Percy looked between his mom and the picture in his hands, eyes wide. Sally was beaming, and Annabeth’s mouth was open.

“Twenty-two weeks!” she said. “I didn’t even notice until Paul pointed out I was taking antinausea pills every day – we, ah, had a few around.” Her eyes glittered with mirth, and Percy laughed too. “She’s been so quiet so far, but there she is!”

“She looks great!” Percy enthused, even though he could barely make out the shape of her in the ultrasound. “You look great!”

Sally kissed him on the cheek, and then leaned into Paul and actually giggled. Percy had never seen her so openly giddy. Paul was grinning like a loon.

“I haven’t seen a baby since my sister had hers,” he said. “I think my parents had given up on me. They’ll be very happy for another grandchild.”

That rang a bell in the back of Percy’s head. “Are we ever gonna meet your parents?” he asked. “I’ve been kind of curious. You haven’t talked about them much.”

Paul looked surprised, then touched, which made Percy feel kind of flustered. But Sally was smiling brighter than ever, and gave Percy a nod of appreciation.

“They live out in Montana, so visiting them is something of a production,” Paul explained. “Sally and I have gone out a couple of times, but I didn’t think you’d be interested in a road trip. It would be at least a few days each way, and that’s without any detours.”

“I’d be cool with that,” Percy said earnestly. “I mean, if it’s okay. I know it’d be easier for you to just take a plane out with the two of you, but...”

Paul smiled at him. “Percy, I would be delighted to introduce you to my parents. They’ve been asking for it, in fact.”

Percy felt like bouncing happily, but Annabeth felt tense. He glanced down at her, read her expression, and understood instantly. “Can Annabeth come, or is that too many?” he asked.

“I haven’t talked about Annabeth quite as much, but I think they’d be fine with it,” Paul said, smiling at her as well. Annabeth relaxed against Percy, cheeks dusted pink. “Would you like that, Annabeth?”

“Sure,” she said, trying to seem casual. “I mean, as long as I can bring some blueprints and everything.”

“I don’t see why not,” Paul said warmly.

 “When’s the baby due?” Percy asked Sally, trying not to wriggle in excitement. “I’m betting you don’t want to take a road trip like that right now.”

“No,” Sally agreed ruefully, setting a hand on her belly. She wasn’t showing much yet, just a bit of extra curve that you might not even notice if you didn’t know her. “Late March, but Paul is insisting I start taking it easy now.”

“He’s right,” Percy said, at the same time that Paul defended,

“It’ll give you time to work on your book!”

Both of them looked at each other and nodded, and Sally laughed.

“When would you want to head out?” Paul asked. “You’re busy the whole summer, but we couldn’t manage it over a weekend.”

Percy looked away, scratching his head uncomfortably. “Um. You remember, I was, uh, gonna...”

“He’s decided on a GED,” Sally reminded Paul patiently, when he didn’t catch up.

“Yeah,” Percy agreed. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t know that,” Annabeth said, distracted. She leaned over to give Percy a confused frown. “You’re not finishing high school?”

Percy winced. “Um, no,” he mumbled without looking at her. “I talked about it with Raine, a-and I decided a GED would probably be better. You know, ‘cause school is associated with a lot of trauma for me, and I’m not good at it, and that flashback in biology class...” He bit his cheek, frustrated with himself. “It’s not because I’m too stupid, okay?”

“Of course you’re not, Percy,” Paul said before Annabeth could, setting his hand briefly over Percy’s. “You’re an incredibly intelligent young man, and you’re making a mature and reasoned decision about your future.”

Percy relaxed, grateful for the reassurance. “So yeah,” he said, more confidently. “School’s out, and Raine doesn’t think I’ll be ready to start tutoring or anything for maybe a couple months after I go home.” He looked at Paul. “I’ve been looking at some extracurricular stuff, but that’s it. A road trip would be great whenever.”

“I can miss some school too,” Annabeth said. “I’m taking mostly online classes anyway.” She bumped Percy. “I’ll help you study for the GED. I’ve been half homeschooling myself since I was seven.”

Percy grinned at her. “Next school year?” he asked. “We should both be stable and sane by then.”

Annabeth snorted, then sighed, leaning back. “Yeah,” she said, sounding unconvinced. "I don't know. I wasn't thinking about that."

Percy softened, and shifted over to squeeze her knee. “Hey. You will be. That’s like, over six months from now. Do you know how much therapy that is?”

Annabeth managed a shaky laugh and leaned against him. “No, I don’t,” she said, smiling a little. “I just hope Mai’s half as good for me as Raine has been for you.”

Percy thought that she already was. Annabeth had stopped falling asleep during classes, though she was still taking naps during lunch, and she didn’t look on the verge of tears anymore. She just looked kind of sad and resigned, which was more or less how Percy felt about everything.

“What were you thinking for extracurriculars?” Sally asked Percy. “You mentioned you were interested in some.”

Percy nodded. “Raine says it’ll give me time to socialize, since I won’t be getting that at school or anything,” he explained. “I’m thinking maybe a basketball team and an outdoor school sort of thing. Something where I can help look after kids and do normal camp stuff. I need to renew my diving certification, too.”

“Diving would open up a lot of careers for you,” Paul pointed out. “Particularly if you combined it with a marine biology degree. We should look into specific opportunities sometime, but it sounds like something you would enjoy.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Percy admitted, smiling. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

Sally’s smile was a little wider and warmer, and she said, “You seem much happier. More optimistic.”

Percy’s smile turned bashful, and he scratched his neck and nodded. “On Friday we went over some goals I’d set a few weeks before St. Joan’s,” he explained. “Things like, um, making friends with Leo and Piper, getting Grover to repair the empathy link, start talking to Dad again.” He glanced at Paul. “One of them was asking you about your parents.” Paul looked surprised and pleased, and Percy looked back at his mom. “While we were talking about it, I remembered that I’d still felt really low then, and most of them didn’t seem possible. But now I feel good about them, even the ones I haven’t done yet. That was really nice.”

“That’s amazing,” Sally said sincerely. Annabeth leaned against Percy, seemingly more content to listen than participate. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better. What do you still need to work on?”

Percy thought about it. “I think most of what I have left is cognitive work,” he decided, referring to the exercises that helped him process things in a healthier way. “Feeling secure during arguments, forgiving myself for acting out when I’m overwhelmed, practice seeking support. We’re going to start weaning me off the anxiety meds tomorrow. And, uh, the temper stuff.”

Sally’s brow furrowed in concern. “Temper stuff? Are you doing another round of anger management work?”

Percy winced, crossed his arms, and looked away. “Um. Not exactly. We, uh, we were talking about something else, and... we realized I have some self-esteem issues around my temper. So. We gotta work on that.”

When he looked back at her, Sally looked mortified; it was nearly unheard of for her to assume badly of him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, of course, that makes perfect sense. What happened, what do you need?”

Percy loved his mom so, so much. He shifted as Annabeth pulled away, looking at him with a worried frown and her intense grey eyes, and leaned back on his hands. Even Paul looked concerned, leaning to better look at him.

“We figured... I had a lot of good reasons to be angry as a kid,” he said carefully, “and I wasn’t ever really allowed to express it. I was pretty much always in a situation where I’d just get punished for it, or someone else would.” He shrugged. “Which I guess equals shame and guilt.”

He wasn’t surprised when Sally immediately recognized her complicity in that, even if he’d tried to be gentle about it. He was surprised when she teared up, her hand covering her mouth, and hiccupped around a suppressed whimper.

“I’m sorry, Percy,” she said, the tears starting to trickle down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I, I didn’t think it would be like this. I didn’t think it would be this bad.” She reached up to wipe her eyes, hand shaking. “I thought I could protect you. I told myself you’d be okay. I’m so sorry.”

Paul shifted over to hug her with one arm, murmuring something soothing into her ear, all of his attention immediately on her. Percy opened his mouth, but faltered as a toxic drop of resentment protested against comforting her over this. A traitorous part of him reeled with the same understanding that Sally was struggling with: thirteen years ago, Sally had decided to stay with an abusive man, and now, Percy was struggling with the suicidal ideation and self-doubt that stemmed from that decision, as dangerous to him as any titan.

While he’d never dream of blaming his mom for that fact, it was hard not to feel hurt and frustrated. He made a mental note to bring it up to Raine. He didn’t like being angry at his mom.

Annabeth seemed to recognize his internal struggle, and she leaned over.

“Pregnancy hormones,” she said in an undertone.

The resentment popped like a soap bubble, and he moved to her other side to hug her. “It’s okay,” he said earnestly. “You did the best you could with the hand you had. I know that. I get it.” Paul gave him a grateful look.

It took Sally a few minutes to regain control of herself, but finally she pressed a few chaste kisses to his cheek and hair and then pulled away, wiping her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I know better,” she said. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart, you’re being so strong and so brave. I’ll be with you as long as you need me, okay?”

Percy grinned at her and hugged her again, a little tighter this time. “I know.”

“What have you been working on this week?” Paul asked Annabeth. “I know you had some trouble getting started.”

Annabeth looked surprised to be asked, but it was swiftly washed away by affection and gratitude. “We’ve... mostly been talking around some family issues,” she said, surprising Percy. She grimaced at his look. “I know. But I... haven’t really been able to talk about Tartarus yet. It’s like as soon as I acknowledge that that stuff really happened to me, I break down. I can’t help but skate past it.”

Percy’s surprise turned into sympathy. “I couldn’t talk about most of it directly either,” he confided. “Maybe you can ask Mai about alternate therapy methods. Play therapy worked really well for me, but I don’t think you’d like it.”

Annabeth shrugged. “Maybe,” she said. “Anyway, I got through the Mark of Athena quest and pretty much stopped there.” She reached for Percy’s hand, playing with his fingers, and he let her. “We’ve been talking about Mom a lot. About...” Her voice lowered, and she didn’t look at any of them. “About how I trusted her more as a parent figure than I did Dad. Mai thinks that’s why I was so desperate to make things work with him. Because of Mom’s rejection.”

Percy didn’t think he’d understood just how much Annabeth loved and trusted his parents until that moment, with her letting herself be vulnerable in front of them. He turned their hands over and squeezed hers, looking as encouraging as he could.

“I’m glad you’re getting to talk about that,” he said. “I know that really messed you up.”

A flicker of a pained smile crossed Annabeth’s face, but she didn’t answer.

“I’ve been speaking to your father,” Sally said, startling Annabeth into looking up. “He knows it may not be for some time, but he said that when you’re ready, he’s willing to fly out here and work with your therapist rather than trying another family one.”

Conflicted emotions, not least of them being resentment, flashed across Annabeth’s face, but she nodded stiffly.

“Can I just... tell you when I’m ready?” she asked. “I don’t know if I want to deal with him again over this.”

“Of course I can handle that for you,” Sally reassured her earnestly. “Just let me know and I’ll talk to him.”

Annabeth nodded. “I’m still treading water as it is,” she added, looking down at their joined hands again. “I can focus better, and passing time doesn’t feel like purgatory anymore. But I can’t sleep, my head hurts, and I feel like I’m constantly compromising with my paranoia. I don’t have time for him right now.”

Sally reached over to squeeze her free hand. “That’s okay, dear,” she soothed. “You can take as much time as you need.”

Annabeth gave her a small, grateful smile, and Percy had only rarely seen so sincere an expression from his reserved girlfriend.

Chapter Text

They passed into Mai’s room one after the other, and only held hands for a moment before Percy kissed Annabeth on the cheek and they both let go. On silent agreement, they went to different corners and sat down. Fang was on Percy’s lap, and Annabeth had a teddy bear he’d only seen with her a few times.

“Are you both ready to begin?” Raine asked, flipping open her notebook. Annabeth focused on her with a sharp gaze.

“Yes,” Annabeth said without hesitation. “I want to know how Percy’s doing. Is he getting worse? Does he need more support from me?”

Percy made a soft, sheepish ‘eep’ while Raine gave him a questioning glance. “I had to tell her what happened on the sea floor,” he explained. “Can you answer her like you did Mom?”

Raine let out a soft ‘oh’ of comprehension and glanced at Mai, whose brow was furrowed. “Percy made a suicide attempt toward the end of their quest,” she explained to Mai. “I knew he was planning on telling her eventually, but I assume he was waiting for her mental health to improve.” She looked at Annabeth, expression sympathetic and patient. “Percy is doing very well, I assure you. We’ve done a lot of work repairing his self-esteem, plenty to help him process the trauma and loss he experienced, and spent time developing ways for him to deescalate a crisis. He’s in a much more stable state of mind now, and he’ll be better equipped to seek help if his mental health declines again.”

Annabeth looked close to collapsing with relief. “He’s okay?”

“He’s okay,” Raine agreed. “I wouldn’t recommend touching any of his psychological sore spots for a while, but he won’t break.”

There was something validating about the frank but optimistic assessment, and it made Percy smile brightly, just for a moment. Annabeth gave him a weary but pleased smile in return.

 “With that out of the way,” Mai said, more brisk than Percy was expecting, “I know Raine and I have some topics to bring up while we’re here, but do either of you have anything you wanted to address?”

Annabeth shook her head. “I just wanted to know for sure that Percy was okay,” she said. “I figured we’d end up talking about other things, but I’ve gotten what I wanted.”

Heat crept across Percy’s face, and Mai caught it. “Did you have something in mind, Percy?”

Percy leaned on the wall and played with Fang’s tail, ignoring Annabeth’s gaze. “Uh, yeah, some things. It’d be great to get some advice for supporting each other when we’re both down like this. We should probably talk about Luke with a mediator. Um, we’ve had some jealousy issues in the past, and... I’ve been kind of worried about how my, you know, abuse issues will affect our relationship.”

When he glanced over at her, Annabeth looked surprised, then thoughtful. Her teddy bear was still flat on her lap, with her hands sitting on top of it – ignoring it until it was needed.

Mai looked thoughtful, too. “Would you like to start, Percy?”

Percy winced, but Annabeth gestured for him to go, brow furrowed. He played with a soft fin. “So... we know at this point that my mental health is like, dangerously bad. And I kind of know how to deal with that by myself at this point.” His fidgeting slowed, eyebrows pinching together as he focused. “But after Tartarus, Annabeth was in really bad shape too, and it put both of us in a hard position.” He wrapped the tail around his fingers. “I couldn’t go to her for help, because she needed all her emotional energy to get through to the end of the quest. And she couldn’t come to me, because she knew I was barely hanging in there.”

“You could have,” Annabeth said sharply, giving him a look that was easily mistaken for anger. “Anytime, Percy. I would have listened.”

Percy wanted to smile, the promise making him feel soft and warm. “I know you would’ve,” he agreed, “and I would’ve come to you if I’d known I was, you know, in the red. But I couldn’t go to cry on your shoulder about how bad I felt, not when you felt just as bad.”

Annabeth looked frustrated, but she didn’t argue, which meant she understood.

Mai was nodding. “This is why it’s so important for the two of you to have support systems separate from each other,” she said. “There will always be times when your partner is not what you need, so you need to be comfortable confiding in others. Who else could you have gone to at that time?”

Percy scowled at her, then at the floor. He tucked Fang closer, but didn’t hug him yet. “No one,” he said. “We were on a boat full of people we’d known for like... days.”

“Days of complex cooperation under intense pressure,” Raine pointed out. “Would any of them have turned you away?”

“I can’t burst into their room to cry at them,” Percy protested. Raine hummed.

“Let me put it this way. Would you have turned any of them away?”

For some reason, that knocked the breath out of him, because the answer was no. Any of them, Frank or Hazel or Jason, could have knocked on his door in the middle of the night, near to tears, and he would’ve given them a hug and a listening ear. He wouldn’t have even thought it was that weird. An emergency was an emergency.

He and Annabeth looked at each other, and he read his own thoughts on her face. They could have gone to one of the others, at any time. Frank and Hazel would have let him in, and while the quest wasn’t easy for them, they were holding up well. And Annabeth had been close to Piper in the last couple weeks of the quest. And Jason, who was generous and open even if he wasn’t always tactful, would definitely have helped either of them, no questions asked.

“I don’t do that,” Annabeth said at last, looking back at the two therapists. “I don’t... confide in people very often. No one as much as Percy.”

“That’s a skill that needs to be developed,” Mai told her briskly. “I’ll set some exercises to help you learn how to approach people for support.” She met Annabeth’s eyes. “Even though you would prefer to go to friends you have confided in before, sometimes that won’t be an option. It’s important that you know how to seek help when it’s not easily available.”

Annabeth sighed, but didn’t object. Percy guessed she agreed and wasn’t happy about it. “What about each other?” she prompted instead. “We were already learning how to help ourselves out of a crisis. What can I do if Percy needs help and he’s not thinking clearly enough to do any of that?”

Percy’s face blazed with heat, but he couldn’t help but give Annabeth a slightly silly smile. He had the best girlfriend ever.

“Redirection,” Mai said, glancing at Raine for her opinion. Raine nodded. “Percy did it a few weeks ago. If either of you sees that the other is struggling more than you’re comfortable with, you can either take them to a third party yourself or notify someone who can take care of them. Perhaps Sally, or Chiron.”

Unintentionally, Percy snorted hard and then started snickering. Annabeth stifled a laugh too. Mai raised her eyebrows, looking thrown.

“Uh, Chiron isn’t exactly tactful,” Percy explained. “Great guy, amazing teacher, but my gods, I would never send anyone to him for comfort.”

Mai smiled a little, fond but exasperated. “Someone else, then.”

Percy thought about that, and then looked at Annabeth. “We can try to keep a list of people we’re comfortable with?” he suggested. “Like, we’d have a list for when we were at camp, we’d’ve made another for the Argo, we can make one in New Rome...”

Annabeth nodded slowly, frowning. “And use our best judgement if we haven’t made a list,” she decided. “If... if it had occurred to me, I might have asked Frank to talk to you.”

Frank – gods, if Frank had come to check on him in those last few weeks... Percy reached up to scrub his face and said to Raine, “Really getting frustrated at all the times I didn’t ask for help that I definitely would’ve gotten.”

Raine looked sympathetic. “It would have gotten more difficult as you became more insecure,” she said. “You know now that they would have been happy to help, but you weren’t thinking clearly at the time.” She looked at Annabeth. “Do both of you feel comfortable with these plans?”

Percy nodded, and a moment later Annabeth nodded too.

“I want to talk about the abuse issues next,” Annabeth said before Percy could. Looking at Raine, she added, “I’ve been wondering if I should talk to you about that for a while.”

Percy flushed, but held up well when everyone looked at him.

“You mentioned that you had specific concerns, didn’t you?” Raine prompted.

“Uh, yeah,” Percy muttered, and finally shifted so he was hugging Fang properly. “I’m kind of worried about how integrating our adult lives is gonna go. Like, we’re used to being a team and sharing everything in that context, but I think about living together and...” He caught Annabeth’s crestfallen expression. “It’s nice! I really want it. But it’s, uh, it’s a lot closer to those triggers than anything we do now.”

Annabeth’s eyes narrowed, like she was contemplating these problems the same as any enemy. “Like what?”

“I don’t know if I wanna merge our finances,” Percy said plaintively, which was such an adult thing that he could barely believe it had come out of his mouth. “Which feels really petty, but merging finances, that’s- that’s a financial abuse tactic.” Annabeth’s brows furrowed. “People do it so they can control all their spouse’s purchases, like, stop them from buying something they like, or keep them from leaving.”

“I would never,” Annabeth said sharply.

“I know you wouldn’t!” Percy insisted. “I know. Really. I don’t have any reason to be scared, except for the fact that I grew up knowing Mom had a secret stash of money, and that it was useless because Smelly Gabe knew where it was and kept stealing from it, because nothing belonged to us and he was everywhere.”

Annabeth looked lost and frustrated, and after a moment she looked at Raine. “Can’t you... fix this? Make it easier for him?”

“We’ll spend some time working on it,” Raine promised, meeting Percy’s eyes for a moment. He nodded stiffly. “It seems like the financial abuse created more trauma than we discussed last year. But it’s likely that he’ll always have these triggers to a certain extent.”

Annabeth sighed, closed her eyes, and nodded. She waited a couple seconds, and then opened them again, looking resolute.

“Three accounts,” she decided. “One for you, one for me, and one for shared expenses. We can budget it out when we get to it.” She met Percy’s eyes, and he huffed in relief, feeling almost shaky.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “That sounds good.”

“Was there more?” Mai prompted. Percy nodded, then hesitated.

“Are you sure you wanna do this now?” he said awkwardly. “I mean, you’re still really stressed out, and this is all about me, and you should really be saving your energy for your own issues right now. You need it.”

Annabeth shook her head. “Now is best,” she said. “I like it. It’s practical, and I’ve been trying to plan for these problems for over a year. And... I really like hearing how seriously you’ve been thinking about our future.”

Percy melted and smiled at her, and it only faded a little when he brought up the next issue. “I’ve been really worried that I won’t be comfortable sharing a room with you,” he confessed. Annabeth’s mouth fell open, and she looked startled and hurt, so he rushed to elaborate. “I love you, I love sleeping with you – but Annabeth, one time my mom cleaned my room while I was gone, and I couldn’t relax in there for a week. I kept fussing about how it smelled wrong. And that was Mom.”

Annabeth bit her lip. “You never mentioned this before.”

Percy hugged Fang hard and shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to admit it,” he said. “And I mean- it might not be an issue. Maybe I’ll be fine with it. I’m just... worried. It’s not a deal breaker, is it?” The worry slipped out before he could stop it, and Annabeth sat up.

“No,” she said firmly. “None of this is. I just...” She glanced at Mai, who frowned thoughtfully.

“Consider starting with separate bedrooms,” Mai said at last. “Set some initial rules and adjust them according to what you find yourselves comfortable with. Maybe you’ll have separate bedrooms, but you’ll share a bed in either one. Maybe your partner can sleep in your room but not spend leisure time there. Work out what you’re both comfortable with.”

Percy relaxed, and nodded when Annabeth looked at him. “Yeah. That works.” Annabeth relaxed and smiled back. He leaned back to think of the next issue, and his heart dropped as it struck like lightning. “Um, this one is kind of weird, but I worry about it a lot.” Annabeth gestured. “If I hit you-”

“You won’t,” Annabeth interrupted.

“If I hit you,” Percy repeated, strained, “I want you to leave.”

“I’m not agreeing to that,” Annabeth said, looking, of all things, exasperated. Mai pursed her lips, but didn’t speak up. All of Annabeth’s attention was on Percy. “I did some research last time. Abuse doesn’t come from rage. It’s entitlement, selfishness, misogyny. That’s not you. You’re a martyr to the bone.”

“But if-”

“Percy, if you hit me, it’s going to be because you were panicking, not angry,” Annabeth said firmly. “I know you. You would have to be- overwhelmed. Maybe even psychotic, I mean, clinically psychotic, where your mind is playing tricks on you. You would need help, not rejection.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Percy said, small and plaintive.

Annabeth looked frustrated, and she looked at Mai. Mai took the signal and addressed Percy. “Why is this such a significant concern for you?”

Percy opened his mouth, then closed it, shrank away, and hugged Fang.

“Percy?” Annabeth prompted.

“Percy, perhaps this would be a good time to bring up that concern you had,” Raine suggested gently. Annabeth looked at her sharply, then looked back at Percy. Percy hesitated, stomach flipping.

“...You’ve been having nightmares about me,” he said at last. Annabeth went white. “Sorry. You, uh, you talk in your sleep.”

Annabeth swallowed. “I... thought we agreed not to talk about that today.”

“You’re right,” Percy agreed instantly. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Damn it, Percy.” Annabeth covered her face and took a few deep breaths, and Percy hugged Fang and pressed into the corner, focusing on his breathing. After a while, Annabeth spoke again. “What have I been saying?”

“You ask me to stop a lot,” Percy said without looking at her. He tried to concentrate on not crying. “Sometimes you say something like, you can’t do this to me.” Annabeth looked away. “I’m not mad or anything. I know I scared you. But it’s, um, it’s what I said before, about why we can’t go to each other for everything. I love you and I’m not mad, but I, I can’t listen to you talk about those. And I can't let that happen.”

“I’m not having nightmares about you hurting me,” Annabeth said, and then took a deep breath. Her hands kneaded the teddy bear, but didn’t pick it up yet. “I’m... scared, that what happened to Luke will happen to you.”

Percy’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Luke broke, Percy,” Annabeth said, gaze resting somewhere on the floor between them. “I really believe that. There was too much pain in his life, too much trauma, too much disappointment, and he couldn’t take it. And that’s why he turned to Kronos, was because he thought Kronos could fix all that.”

Percy could see it, honestly – years and years of no one taking care of him, of being alone in his resentment and bitterness, and of reaching out without finding what he wanted. “You think that’ll happen to me?”

“I have nightmares about it,” Annabeth said, defensive and frustrated. “That’s not the same thing. It’s just... you have a lot to be bitter about. Now more than ever. And that- that day... I could swear I saw you cracking.”

Percy gave Raine an anxious look, but she just gave him an encouraging gesture, silently asking him to respond on his own. He hugged Fang and breathed.

“I kind of was,” he admitted without meeting her eyes. “But, um, Raine thought it was more of an overcharged animal response. Fight-or-flight that got dialed up to eleven, because Tartarus is such an awful place.”

“Animals don’t...” Annabeth trailed off and swallowed hard. Her face paled until she looked waxen, and Percy curled and tucked his face against Fang. Mai stepped in.

“We’ll table this topic until Annabeth’s ready,” she said firmly. Percy nodded. “Annabeth, look around and tell me five things you can see.”

Annabeth took a few more deep breaths, then looked up. “There’s the ceiling light. You’re behind your desk. Raine is on a chair from the mess hall. I can see the food garden through your window...”

Percy waited while Mai walked Annabeth through the grounding exercise, his throat tight and painful. His eyes stung. For the first time in a couple of weeks, he hated himself, and it was a struggle to push away the fantasies of self-harm.

Someone sat beside him, and he knew without looking that it was Raine. She put an arm around him, and he leaned in, but couldn’t bring himself to loosen.

“Go to your safe place, Percy,” Raine murmured. Percy’s breath hitched, and he shook his head mutely. “It’s okay. You deserve to feel safe and calm. Go to your safe place, and when you and Annabeth both feel better, we can discuss something else. Salt water, campfire smoke, the sound of waves...”

Percy breathed, slow and careful.

After a while, Annabeth cursed under her breath. “Percy was reducing his anxiety medication today,” she said, voice scratchy.

“That’s fine,” Mai said firmly. “Raine is taking care of him, and you can trust her to do that. You don’t need to worry about him.”

A few more minutes passed. Slowly, Percy’s breath evened out, and the surge of ugly, suffocating tension passed. When he felt ready, he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Annabeth was waiting for him, straight-backed and as confident as she could manage. Percy noticed that Mai was still holding her hand.

“I’m not scared of you,” Annabeth said as soon as he met her eyes. Her voice was steady again. “I’m scared of losing you, like you’re scared of losing me.”

The comparison helped, a lot. Percy loosened with a sharp exhale, but he still felt kind of shaky.

“Do you feel able to continue?” Raine asked, soft and understanding. Percy hesitated for a few seconds, taking stock of himself, and then nodded and sat up. He gave Annabeth a reassuring, crooked grin.

“Yeah,” he said, “but another wave like that and I might not be.”

The message got across, and Annabeth softened and gave him a nod.

“You mentioned jealousy,” she said suddenly, letting them slide past the topic. “Were you thinking of Rachel? Or...” She trailed off.

“Both,” Percy said, focusing on the new topic with relief. “Can I ask you about Rachel?”

Annabeth shrugged. She still looked shaken, but she was slowly settling again. “Sure? It’s not like it matters anymore.” Aside, to Mai, she explained, “Rachel is the Oracle now. No boys until she passes the baton.”

“Why’d you think Rachel was a threat?” Percy asked, relaxing enough to set Fang onto his lap. He was worried that his hands might be shaking. “I mean- we’d been fighting together for years by then, and I chased you across the country, like, six months before that. Course I’d pick you.”

The corner of Annabeth’s mouth twitched even as a blush spread across her cheeks. “I didn’t have your degree of insecurity, but I was still fifteen, you know. And...” She shrugged. “I knew Rachel could give you a lot of things I couldn’t. A life in the mortal world, for one, and a break from the fighting. You and her never fought like you and I did then. And, well...” She winced. “I knew you had a money thing then, but I didn’t know exactly what it was. And Rachel was rich.”

All of that checked out, and it made Percy relax, an odd combination of affection and relief weaving together. “You have always been enough for me,” he told her, which made Annabeth redden more.

“Jealousy most often stems from insecurity,” Mai put in, drawing both of their attention. “The fear that you are not enough for your partner makes you worry that they’ll turn elsewhere for affection and support. It’s why the most effective solution is to talk it out with your partner rather than to confront the third party.” She glanced at Percy. “You said both. Was their another major incident?”

Percy nodded. “Luke,” he explained, grimacing when Annabeth did. “I mean – that situation was a lot more complicated, obviously, but jealousy was definitely a big part of it.”

“That’s disgusting,” Annabeth informed him, and then amended, “I mean- neither of us knew that yet, because we were barely teenagers. But I think that if Luke had tried to go out with me, Chiron would have tracked him down and stomped him.” To Mai, she added, “Luke was seven years older than me, and he went to Kronos when I was thirteen.” Mai grimaced. “Yeah. I did have a crush on him, but I was, you know, twelve and didn’t know better.”

Percy nodded. “And like you said, I didn’t get that as a kid,” he said. “And during that first summer, I thought Luke was cool. I mean, he was an older kid, ‘course I thought he was cool. And you had a history together, and...” He trailed off, then sighed. “Well, we talked about that last year. That, um, that you obviously cared about him a lot, and I was mad at him for trying to kill me.” Annabeth nodded. “So- no hard feelings either way?”

“No,” Annabeth agreed, and then considered him with sharp eyes and tacked on, “But if you start feeling jealous, you better bring it up with me first. I don’t want you going over my head.”

Percy smiled, sheepish and a little uncomfortable. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, trying to push away the realization that it would happen again as insecurities came and went. “But, um- it was really easy to do in hindsight, ‘cause neither of us feel that way anymore, but I don’t think I’m really gonna be up to going to you and listing every reason you might pick some other guy instead of me.”

Annabeth’s brow furrowed, and she nodded slowly.

“Take the opportunity to talk about your relationship more generally,” Mai suggested. “You can review any concerns, ask if there are any needs going unmet- anything either of you feel uncomfortable about.” She nodded at Raine. “I understand Percy and Raine are intending to keep in touch, so he’ll most likely have a reasonably good handle on what he’s anxious about.”

Percy hadn’t thought of that. It was surprisingly cheering. Annabeth frowned.

“What needs am I supposed to be meeting?” she asked, borderline accusing, as if the therapists had been withholding information from her. Percy saw Mai’s mouth twitch.

“That’s something you’ll have to discuss with each other,” Raine said. “Don’t worry if you find it difficult at first. It’s a difficult skill to master, and it requires a lot of trust and vulnerability. To use an example you’re familiar with, you know that Percy needs you to be there for him when his mental health declines, and you know that he needs you to be mindful of his upbringing when you’re negotiating boundaries. Can you think of anything you might need from him?”

Annabeth looked immediately uncomfortable and defensive, which didn’t surprise Percy at all. He looked at Raine anxiously, and Raine gave him a subtle shake of her head. It took a couple of minutes for Annabeth to relax enough to answer. She glanced at Percy.

“I need him... to help me understand emotional problems, mine and his,” she said slowly. “And I need him to, to show that he loves me sometimes. So I’m sure of it.”

She met Percy’s eyes, embarrassed and strained, and Percy gave her a bright smile and a thumbs up, which made her laugh. She relaxed, tucking some of her hair back, though she looked more tired now.

“That was good,” Mai told Annabeth. “You’ll understand more of your emotional needs as you continue going through therapy, so it would be best if you discussed it more thoroughly after your release.” Annabeth sighed and nodded.

“Luke?” Annabeth prompted next, leaning back on the wall wearily. She was holding her teddy bear now, loose but upright.

“Why don’t you start this one?” Mai said, eying Annabeth shrewdly. Annabeth gave her a dirty look, but obeyed without further protest.

“You know you only brushed me off about Luke?” she said to Percy, rubbing her teddy’s ear restlessly. “The rest of the time, you always trusted my judgement. But you were always stubborn about Luke.”

Percy bit his cheek, guilt creeping in, but Mai tapped her desk for attention, calm eyes on Annabeth.

“Can you use ‘I’ statements, please, Annabeth?” she prompted mildly. “Remember when we talked about putting people on the defensive?”

“Damn it,” Annabeth muttered under her breath, and then she was quiet for a minute before she tried again. Percy played with Fang’s teeth. “I... felt like you thought I was being irrational. Like my judgement didn’t matter as long as you thought he was evil. It was frustrating and hurtful.”

“Oh.” Percy pulled his knees up, pressing Fang against his stomach, and tried to reply. “I’m sorry. I think a lot of that was my insecurities getting in the way. I... I knew you cared about Luke a lot, and I think I was always scared that you cared about him more than you did about me.” He reviewed his answer. “I shouldn’t have brushed you off, and... I understand a lot better now.”

Annabeth bit her lip and stared at Mai’s desk before she replied. “I thought that I could avoid choosing between you,” she said at last. “I told myself that you were the one making it difficult, hating Luke so much.” Percy’s left hand went to cradle his right. “Yeah. I was fooling myself.”

“How so?” Mai asked. Annabeth sighed, leaning back on the wall with a look of distant sadness.

“At the end of Percy’s first summer at camp, Luke lured him into the woods and tried to kill him,” Annabeth explained. “It kind of ruined any chance of reconciliation.”

“I see,” Mai murmured. “Did you ever talk about it?”

“No,” Annabeth said, and then amended, “Well, not then. Percy and I talked about it toward the end of his last stay here. I think we worked it out.” She gave Percy an anxious glance, and he gave her a reassuring smile back. She relaxed, and continued quietly, “I didn’t really accept that I’d have to choose until you decided to take on the prophecy. And by then... I mean, you’d just crossed the country to rescue me. Of course I chose you.”

Percy’s heart squeezed, a combination of gratitude and adoration. Then something occurred to him.

“And then I met Rachel,” Percy realized. “And you met Rachel.”

Annabeth’s expression turned thoughtful. “I suppose so. I never thought about it that way.” She shrugged. “I mean, the jealousy didn’t come from that, but it definitely made me angrier.”

“Why did that mean you had to choose?” Mai asked. Annabeth scowled at her.

“Luke had been serving Kronos for years at that point,” she said. “He wasn’t going to change his mind. And Percy was loyal to camp, and even to his father. He wasn’t going to turn either.” Annabeth exhaled, twisting her teddy’s ear. “I suppose it wasn’t in the letter of the prophecy. But everyone understood by then that the choice the prophecy mentioned would decide the outcome of the Titan War, and that there was a pretty good chance it would depend on whether or not Percy was loyal to Olympus.”

A memory popped into Percy’s head, sharp enough for him to cringe. Raine noticed instantly.

“Percy?” she asked, drawing everyone’s attention to him. He winced.

“Um, let’s finish this first,” he mumbled, slumping back. Annabeth gave him a concerned look, but kept going.

“So that meant Percy was on one side of the war,” Annabeth said, “and Luke was on the other. I had to choose.”

“Was that what decided your choice?” Mai asked her. “Percy or Luke?”

Annabeth scoffed, brushing her hair back. “Of course not. There was Chiron to think about, camp, everything I’d been raised to believe – at that point, I was even still loyal to Olympus itself.” She dropped her gaze to scowl at the ground. “Not that they have ever deserved it.”

“Did they affect your choice?” Mai asked. Annabeth faltered, and glanced over at Percy, uncertain and lingering. He tried to look reassuring.

“...Yes,” she admitted quietly, looking ashamed of herself. “I think the only way I would have gone to Kronos was if Percy did first.”

“Why?” Mai prompted. Annabeth glanced at Percy again and fidgeted with her teddy bear. Percy squeezed Fang and tried to hide how anxious he was for her answer.

“Because I trusted Percy’s judgement,” she said at last. “My faith in the gods was sturdier than most campers’, but not bulletproof. I could’ve convinced myself that Camp Half-Blood and Chiron could still exist under titan rule. I think... if Percy had decided that the gods were too untrustworthy and cruel to depend on, I would have supported him.”

That was such a massive statement of faith that it made Percy’s throat tight, and he gave her a grateful smile when their eyes met. The corner of her mouth quirked up, and she looked away quickly, face pink.

“It wasn’t because of my crush,” she added. “I’m not some heartsick teenager. But sometimes love is when you put your life in someone’s hands because you know they’ll take care of it.”

“I believe you,” Mai said. “You’re an incredibly mature young woman.” Annabeth relaxed, smiling a little.

“Did either of you want to discuss something else about Luke?” Raine asked. They looked at each other, and after a moment they both shook their heads. “Then Percy, would you mind talking about what bothered you earlier?”

Percy winced. "It's just... it's about something you said. Um, the day I finally learned the whole prophecy." Annabeth grimaced. "You knew what it said all along, right?” Annabeth nodded, brow furrowing. “What... what did you mean when you said you knew I’d run away? That it would scare me?”

Annabeth frowned harder, seemingly trying to remember, before she grimaced and covered her face. “Talk about petty,” she muttered. Percy flinched. “Me, Percy. I shouldn’t have said that. I- I was bitter that you and I always had to talk about the war, because I knew you and Rachel always talked about fun things, art and beach trips and stuff. And it meant that you were happy to see her, and anxious when you saw me. It wasn't really about you, or about your reaction to it. Like I said, that thing gave me nightmares for years."

Percy nodded distractedly, but he wasn’t really consoled. He picked at Fang’s mending, then made himself stop before he broke the seam.

“Can you explain what you’re thinking, Percy?” Raine prompted.

"I'm thinking," he mumbled. A few tense moments passed, and he exhaled. "That was..." Mean. "Out of line," he decided. "Calling me a coward when I was that scared, when we both thought I was going to die. I already felt..." He trailed off, then realized he probably wouldn't be allowed to abandon that thought. "I was scared and upset. I don't understand why you were mad about that."

Annabeth looked away sharply, and Percy resisted the urge to scold himself for bringing it up.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’d been rationalizing to myself for years at that point. I told myself that it didn’t have to be you. Prophecies rarely talk about just one person’s fate. That it turned out to be Luke... I was almost hoping for it. That it would be anyone but you.”

Percy softened, the confession acting as a balm to some of the hurt. “I didn’t realize you were already thinking that,” he admitted. “It makes more sense now. But...”

“I handled it badly,” Annabeth agreed. “I... I was scared of that too. I didn’t want to think about it. But I should have been there for you.”

Percy smiled at her, relief soothing most of his anxiety away.

“We were all really stressed,” he said, “and none of us were thinking about feelings. I forgive you.”

"Would you like to set a boundary here?" Raine prompted gently. Percy tilted his head to think about it, and Annabeth met his eyes with determination. It made him smile.

"I want you to try not to criticize how I'm feeling," he decided at last. "I know I can be really emotional, and that's hard for you to roll with sometimes. But I can't afford to second-guess myself like that, trying to figure out if I'm feeling the right things. It knots me up inside. Tell me if I'm acting like a jerk, but don't tell me I shouldn't be angry. Fair?"

"Fair," Annabeth agreed, already looking thoughtful. She focused on Percy again after a moment, serious. "And I want you to tell me if something I say sends you spiraling. Okay? I can't guess this stuff, and I can't just wonder. I don't care if you can't bring it up for a few days, or even weeks, but you need to tell me." Percy hesitated, but Annabeth caught on before he spoke. "I know you said there's a lot that can set you off, and that a lot of it is petty. But I need to know, and I won't know unless you tell me."

Percy softened. He didn't know if he could do anything but soften, when Annabeth got this serious about him, about their relationship. "I promise to try. I'll remember that you worry, and that you want to know." Unspoken was that he might not always be in a headspace to make himself tell her, to pull her out of her way - but he would try. "I love you lots."

Annabeth laughed. Notes of relief danced in the sound. "I love you too, even when you don't love yourself."

Chapter Text

“How did the weekend with Letitia go?” Raine asked.

Percy crossed his legs at the ankle and set his chin on Fang’s snout. “It went pretty well,” he assured her. “She taught me about mirror neurons and stuff, and we talked about making time for myself when things are really hectic, like during a quest or something.”

“How did you feel about that?”

“The mirror neuron stuff helped me understand myself a little better,” Percy admitted, a little embarrassed. “She thinks I’m more empathetic than most people, which means high emotions can stress me out, I guess.” He glanced at Raine anxiously, and she just nodded, unsurprised. “And I was really skeptical when she first talked about making time for myself during quests, but she was able to point out a lot of times when I could try and take a breather. When we’re traveling, before I go to sleep. I don’t know how well it’d work in practice, but I can try.”

Raine smiled at him. “That’s a very important skill, especially for someone who often finds themselves in such urgent situations,” she said. “Did you have any trouble?”

Percy shook his head. “Our session on Friday left me in a really good mood,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I think that carried me through most of the weekend. Uh, Hedge did come by on Saturday, and I kinda wanted to talk to you about that. Oh!” He brightened. “And Mom’s having a baby! I’m gonna have a little sister!”

Raine gave him a broad smile. “That’s wonderful. Do you know when?”

“Should be in March, if everything goes alright,” he said, bouncing his legs in excitement. “She and Paul are gonna have to kinda rush to get everything ready for her, but I’ve never seen Mom so happy.”

“That’s fantastic,” Raine said again, voice warm. “You both deserve this.” He nodded hard, too pleased to be bashful about it, and only settled a little when Raine visibly shifted gears. “So, you said you wanted to talk about Coach Hedge’s visit, and perhaps your joint session with Annabeth as well?” She glanced at him, and he slowed down, smile turning rueful, and nodded. “Would you like to start?”

Percy considered for a moment, then nodded.

“I was kinda caught by surprise when Coach visited,” he admitted, bouncing his heel absently. “And I had a pretty strong reaction. I mean, not outwardly, at least I don’t think I did, but he and Grover both felt it when I...” He trailed off, not sure how to describe the backflip his emotions had done when he saw Hedge. He shrugged. “Uh, I just felt really weird about him being there, and they felt that.”

“And they addressed it?” Raine asked, looking mildly surprised. Percy nodded.

“It’s normal for them,” he said. “They don’t usually bring it up, but they’re not really embarrassed when they want to talk about what they’re picking up. Hedge basically just went hey, what’s your problem?”

“How did you reply?”

“I tried to brush it off,” Percy admitted. “I didn’t really want to make a big deal out of it, because I did understand. And he let that slide for a little bit and then pushed it later.” He tugged on Fang’s teeth, considering. “Um, I told him I was upset about him not helping me even though he knew how wrecked I felt, and he was kinda defensive at first but he owned up eventually.”

“Did he apologize?” Raine asked.

Percy sighed. “No,” he said. “Coach Hedge is a really proud guy. I wasn’t really expecting him to. He mostly just said that he didn’t really want to come, and he only did it because he was offended that no one else did.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Bad,” Percy admitted. “I mean, I knew all that. And I want to forgive him for it. I don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“He failed you as a responsible adult,” Raine pointed out, “and it sounds like he’s made no effort to convince you that he would not do it again. You have no reason to trust him, and trust is very important to you.” She studied Percy for a moment. “You’re not obligated to forgive him at all. Are you sure you want to?”

Percy hesitated, considering that. “We’ve never been close or anything,” he conceded after a moment. "I mean - I like him, he’s fun to be around and he’s good at getting new campers all hyped up for games and stuff.” He paused, trying to put his finger on it. “I guess... I have enough reasons to like him that I still want to. I don’t want to be mad at him.”

“That’s reason enough to try,” Raine agreed. “Would you want to bring the subject up with him again?”

Percy grimaced. “Not without understanding what I want,” he said. “He admitted that he messed up, which is something. I... don’t know what I want from him beyond that.”

“Is it reassurance?” Raine asked. “Do you want to know that he would help you, given another chance?”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “I’m never gonna be a higher priority than his family,” he said. “And I shouldn’t be. I’m just some kid.”

“He wasn’t helping his family on the Argo,” Raine pointed out. “He was worried about them, but he was not in a position to help them. He was in a position to help you. Your hurt is well-founded.”

He bit his cheek, still unsure. “What would I say, then? Like... ask if he would comfort me if I went downhill again? Coach Hedge doesn’t comfort people. It’s not really his thing.”

“It’s up to you,” Raine said. “However much support you expect from him – that’s your boundary to set. Whether you want him to come check on you, or for him to send someone else to do it – whatever you feel you deserve from that relationship.”

Percy twisted Fang’s fin a few times, thinking.

“For him to get someone,” he decided, imagining it – one of the others knocking on his cabin door, saying Coach said you felt like shit. “If he’d sent one of the others to talk to me, that would have helped a lot, and- and it would mean that he’d done something about it.”

“If he agreed to do that next time, would it make you feel better?” Raine asked.

“I think so,” Percy said. “I... I still kind of want him to apologize for leaving me like that, but I’ll be okay if he doesn’t. If he promises not to ignore me next time, I think that’s enough.”

“Are you going to tell him what happened?”

Percy shook his head instantly. “That’s a bridge too far,” he said. “I don’t want him to feel responsible for that. He didn’t help, but it’s mainly my responsibility to take care of myself. Right?”

Raine smiled at him. “That’s an admirably mature way of looking at it,” she agreed.

Percy relaxed, satisfied, and let his brain hop to the next topic. “Um, I thought the joint session went okay.”

“How so?”

Percy shrugged and squirmed in place, shifting his feet and hugging Fang. “I was really happy with how the boundaries stuff went,” he said. “I’ve been worried about talking to her about that, ‘cause I was always kind of scared she would take it personally. But it makes sense that she tackled it like a bunch of problems. It’s very like her.”

“Did you get a chance to touch on everything you wanted to?”

Percy nodded. “I’m sure we’ll stumble across more stuff when we actually try living together, but we hit on everything I was thinking about.” He traced Fang’s eye with his thumb. “I’m still trying to figure out if I did the right thing, mentioning the nightmares. We did promise each other not to bring up Akhlys, and it really shook her up.”

“You didn’t bring up Akhlys, but the nightmares were a topic adjacent to that,” Raine agreed. “What do you think?”

Percy bit his cheek and fiddled with a seam. “I... don’t think I did anything wrong,” he said tentatively. “I didn’t bring up Akhlys directly, just the nightmares. And I only did it because they’ve been pretty hard on me, and... I wanted her to know that. Um, know that those nightmares are what I’ve been so cagey about.”

“What do you mean, cagey?” Raine asked. Percy flushed.

“Um, Annabeth knows me really well,” he said, focusing very hard on Fang’s stitches. “So when we slept together and she had a nightmare, she’d wake up and look at me, and, um, she’d be able to tell I wanted to hurt myself just from my face. But I didn’t tell her why that was happening.”

“What did she do?”

“She’d leave it alone if I asked her to,” Percy shrugged. “But I knew I was worrying her. That’s, um, part of why I thought it might be okay to talk about it.”

“Your reasoning seems sound to me,” Raine said. Percy flashed her a grateful smile.

“What did you think?” he asked.

Raine twirled her pen thoughtfully. “You handled it well,” she said at last. “I can tell you’ve been thinking critically about your relationship, which is impressive for a boy with his first love.” Percy blushed. Raine gave him an apologetic smile, eyes glittering with mirth. “I also noted that you did an excellent job respecting her boundaries, which is a vital skill in any relationship. Aside from your shared trauma, I noticed nothing that needs urgent attention.”

Percy hadn’t been expecting such an in-depth answer, but he was pleased with it all the same. “And we gotta wait for Annabeth to be ready for anything else,” he said. Raine nodded. “Okay, I guess that means... temper stuff?”

“Yes, I think so,” Raine agreed. “Some trauma counseling, some cognitive work. The topic is new, but the work itself should be fairly familiar to you.”

It was a comforting thought, and Percy relaxed a little. “Can I ask a wrong question?”

“Well, now I want to know what a wrong question is, so certainly,” Raine said with amusement. Percy smiled sheepishly, with an edge of self-deprecation he couldn’t brush off.

“What’s the end goal, exactly?” he asked. He scratched his head, leaning on the chair. “Is it gonna be like the somatic stuff, trying to tell my body I don’t need it anymore so it can go away?”

“Ah.” Raine looked more sympathetic. “I was thinking about it over the weekend-” Percy frowned at her, and Raine laughed. “She’s used to it, and it helps me process as well. Regardless, I thought that we might have been approaching the issue the wrong way, or at least not addressing all parts of it. So we’re going to spend some time helping you to respect your anger as the defense mechanism it is.”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “But I know that?”

“You do, and I think that knowledge has helped you,” Raine agreed. “But you still see your temper as a problem. Remember, this week is about self-esteem, not anger management.” Percy slumped down and scowled. “Percy?”

“I keep hoping there’s gonna be a magic cure for it,” he admitted, mashing his palm into his cheek. “But I guess the goal here is to make me stop wanting it, huh?”

“That will come with time,” Raine reassured him. “You’re not obligated to forget your frustration or the pain it’s caused you, but ideally you will find a path toward accepting your anger as a valid and necessary emotion, rather than viewing it as something that you’re doing wrong.”

For the first time in a while, Percy felt dubious. “How?”

“It will take some time,” Raine conceded. “We’ll have to explore some of the emotions that your anger is protecting you from. Did you pick out your memories already?”

Percy nodded. “Little over a half dozen. They’re in the box already.” He was finding as time passed that it was easier to trap memories in the box after he processed them, like they wouldn’t fit until after he talked about what happened. He still liked putting the pictures away, though.

“Very good,” Raine said. “As we work through them, you’ll most likely find that many, if not all of them were times of serious emotional turmoil and pain. I’d like for you to be able to accept and appreciate that protection – protection that you have, at times, been in dire need of.”

Percy didn’t know whether to be more relieved or embarrassed. He rubbed his cheek. “You’re really serious about this.”

Raine smiled bashfully. “It was something of an epiphany,” she explained. “All of the worsts outbursts of temper that you’ve described to me have also been times when you yourself were suffering immensely – chief among them being your reaction to Akhlys.”

That... made sense, actually, and it made Percy feel a little better about it. “But we kinda covered this,” he had to point out, slouching. “I can’t make myself feel better by hitting people.”

“And you haven’t, and you won’t,” Raine said resolutely. “And make no mistake, there is a world of difference between comforting yourself and mitigating your pain. You’ve learned a lot about comforting yourself lately, but a defense mechanism tries to prevent you from getting hurt in the first place.”

Percy was skeptical. “We haven’t really gone into detail about any of that.”

“Which was a mistake on my part, given the nature of your life,” Raine told him. “In daily life, many defense mechanisms become maladaptive, and make leading a healthy life more difficult. In dangerous situations, such as ongoing abuse or combat, those same defense mechanisms are extremely necessary. That’s why they develop in the first place.”

Percy furrowed his brow, trying to follow. It was surprisingly hard to readjust from thinking of his outbursts as defensive and important instead of an awful nuisance. “But it didn’t help, a lot of the time. It made things worse.”

Raine nodded. “Human instinct is far from foolproof,” she agreed. “But while it made your circumstances worse, it most likely helped you maintain your emotional stability.” She snapped her fingers as if in realization, and continued more briskly, “People can only take so much stress before they need a pressure valve. Anger is your pressure valve.”

“Can I have a different one?” Percy asked plaintively.

“You probably have several,” Raine said, more gently. “Anger is simply your last resort, the one that comes out at the worst extremes of stress. But that’s when you need that pressure valve the most.”

“What happens otherwise? Pop like a balloon?”

“It depends on your brain chemistry,” Raine admitted, “and it’s something that’s not well understood. Some people go into shock and never fully recover. Some have a nervous breakdown and are rendered completely unable to function by their emotions. The particularly unlucky might have a psychotic break, or trigger a latent mental illness – schizophrenia, borderline personality, bipolar. The important part is that your normal functions begin to fall apart, and don’t always come back together. Defense mechanisms are extremely necessary in such situations.”

Percy tentatively downgraded his feelings from ‘skeptical’ to ‘resigned.’ “Is that what happened to Chris?”

“Chris?” Raine blinked, and then, to Percy’s surprise, recognition sparked in her eyes. “Chris Rodriguez?”

“How’d you know?” The obvious hit him. “Oh, he stayed here, didn’t he? I thought Mr. D fixed him up.”

“I wasn’t here while he was, but yes,” Raine agreed. “From what Eddie said, while Dionysus could reverse the normally irreversible, he didn’t make Chris an emotionally healthy child. He still needed a lot of help.”

Percy pictured himself as a rambling wreck, plagued with waking nightmares and paranoia. It didn’t sound like fun. “I guess that makes sense. I remember him being out of touch for a bit, but I just thought he was anxious about getting involved with the war again.”

Raine nodded, then gently shifted them back to topic. “Regardless, it’s important and natural to go to extremes to prevent your stress from exceeding your ability to cope. I want you to forgive yourself for struggling to cope with these extremes.”

Percy sighed. “It still doesn’t completely make sense to me,” he admitted. “But I’ll try. Maybe it’ll make more sense after the trauma counseling.”

“Hopefully,” Raine agreed. “But remember, this is not a test, and you don’t have a responsibility to respond to treatment. If this works, it works. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”

Percy relaxed, chest loosening. “Okay. I guess we’ll see.”

Chapter Text

The self-care pyramid was familiar and comforting; Percy still had the poster up in his bedroom at home. Cassia explained it one tier at a time, and Percy played with the worksheet, measuring it against how he was doing right now.

“Tier one is your basic physical needs,” she explained, drawing a few icons onto the bottom tier. “Food, water, sleep, safety, and shelter. If you’re missing any of these, you’re in survival mode, period.”

“Meaning?” Annabeth asked.

“Does anyone have an answer for her?” Cassia prompted the room. Violetta put up her hand.

“You aren’t yourself,” she said confidently. “It’s hard to think clearly, because you’re scared and stressed. Your body starts overriding your mind, and you’re too focused on getting those things to think about your usual priorities.”

Annabeth looked offended. “I think very clearly under stress,” she said tartly. Violetta eeped and looked at her lap, fiddling with her sleeve.

“I’m sure you do, Annabeth,” Cassia reassured her. “I think Violetta is relaying something from Giselle, yes?” Violetta nodded. “In this institution, ‘survival mode’ refers more to an emotional state than a mental one. You’re just as intelligent as ever, but your priorities are different. You’re less interested in your normal activities, normally important responsibilities might get dropped, and you might find that you’re more emotional than usual. Does that sound more familiar?”

Annabeth crossed her arms, and after a moment nodded grudgingly. Cassia smiled at her, then continued.

“If you’re struggling with your bottom tier, you need to be realistic about what you can expect from yourself,” she said. “You might find that you’re less generous, less reliable, and less responsive to correction. That’s fine. It doesn’t mean that you’re irresponsible or inconsiderate. It means that you are struggling.”

“That’s trauma in progress,” Amethyst said suddenly, studying the board. “If you’re missing any of those things, that’s trauma. Right?”

Cassia smiled at her. “That’s exactly right. Not all trauma comes from losing these things, but quite a lot of it does.” She glanced across the rest of the room again. “I want this to be clear: you are entitled to all of these things, especially as children. Even when you’re struggling to get them, you always deserve them.”

Annabeth looked pensive, and Percy kind of felt that way too. Deserved or not, all of them knew how difficult it could be just to survive.

“And what do you do when you can’t?” Nico asked, with a bitter edge to his voice. “Cry?”

“Whatever you need to do,” Cassia said. Unexpected conviction hardened her voice. “Lie. Steal. Fight. Use bad coping mechanisms, be selfish. It’s terribly unfair that any of you know what it’s like to be in that position, and I don’t think you should feel guilty for anything you do in those times. You deserve to have your needs met.”

It was an uncharacteristically fierce outburst from Cassia, and it took Percy’s breath away – in a good way, where he felt like Cassia had looked at his whole life and said, you deserve better. Most of the other kids looked similarly struck; Annabeth and Nico had both turned away, Ruya was in tears, and Lucy was scrubbing at her face. Matthew, who had just arrived the day before, buried his face in his hands. Amethyst looked at Cassia like she’d given her the moon.

Cassia softened, looking a little embarrassed. “I know you’ve all lived difficult lives, and done things that you likely aren’t proud of,” she said, more gently. “But you don’t need to be. I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong.”

Percy could hear Annabeth struggling to keep her breath even. He rubbed his eyes too, trying to stave off the subtle burn.

“Oh,” Nico managed after a minute. “Um, what’s the next one?”

Cassia blushed and turned back to the board.

“Ah- tier two is responsibilities,” she said. “These are tasks that have repercussions if not completed. Schoolwork, housework, and a bare minimum of relationship maintenance all fit into this category. Does anyone have other suggestions?”

Violetta put up her hand again, still flustered from Cassia’s rant. “Hygiene?” she suggested quietly. “Showering and brushing your hair and, um, cleaning scrapes and stuff.”

“That’s a very good one,” Cassia agreed, smiling at her.

“What’s relationship maintenance?” Amethyst asked, unusually subdued.

“That’s a good question,” Cassia said. She rolled her shoulders, shaking off her embarrassment for her usual upbeat confidence. “Relationship maintenance is the amount of socialization you have to do to keep from becoming distant from your friends and family. It varies between relationships, depending on your respective needs and desires, so you’ll have to figure out what works for you.”

“Can we do a unit on that?” Nico asked, without looking at her. Cassia brightened.

“Of course!” she said. “I’ll do some research to put together guidelines you can use. In general, it’s good practice to occasionally set aside time to spend with loved ones, same as you would set aside time to clean or study.” She tapped the board. “I expect all of you know what it’s like to struggle with this one. Serious mental illness can make meeting your baseline obligations difficult, even if your physical needs are being met.”

“Isn’t that like... laziness?” Matthew asked, in a wary tone that said he knew he was wrong. “When you can do something you’re supposed to, and you just aren’t? I don’t get how that fits in here.”

Cassia smiled at him, staying calm even as the other kids rippled with discontent. “Laziness is a difficult concept when you’re dealing with mental illness,” she said. “Trauma can cause executive dysfunction, which makes it difficult to initiate tasks, and stress is physically exhausting. For our purposes, we’re assuming that you want to fulfil these responsibilities, but you’re unable to. You can also choose to engage in something else instead of self-care. That’s your prerogative.”

Matthew wrinkled his nose. “That’s putting a lot of blind faith in us.”

“Everyone deserves at least a little blind faith,” Cassia said. Matthew’s cheeks colored, and he looked away.

“What if trying to be responsible interferes with the first tier?” Lucy asked. “Like if we can do our schoolwork, but only if we skip sleeping.”

“Then you’re choosing to prioritize that responsibility over your own needs,” Cassia said. “It’s fine to do that once in a while, but if you find yourself doing it often, I’d like you to sit down and try to find time for yourself.” She nudged the board with the side of her hand. “If you’re sacrificing those things more often than not, that does mean that you are struggling to meet your basic physical needs, even if it’s for a mental/emotional reason rather than an outside force.”

Ruya snapped her fingers, eyes lighting up with recognition. “Like what got most of us here,” she said. Cassia smiled at her.

“Yes, exactly,” she agreed. “Many of the children that come here have been in that state: they’re struggling to eat, sleep, or feel safe, and it’s interfering with the rest of their life. Even if you’re able to keep up with your schoolwork, that is still tier one.”

Percy put up a hand, and Cassia looked at him. “Um, last time you said we could do them in any order if we really wanted,” he pointed out hesitantly.

Cassia’s brows furrowed, then smoothed out in understanding. “You certainly can, and I apologize for not making that clearer,” she said, half to the rest of the room. “Ultimately, it’s up to you what you want to prioritize. When I speak about what tier you’re in, it’s not a judgement on your performance. It’s meant to be a way of gauging your current mental health. If you’re struggling with your physical needs, but you’re able to care for your siblings – you’re not doing anything wrong, but you are struggling immensely, because your needs are not being met.”

Percy settled back, satisfied, and tossed a heavy rubber ball between his hands. Annabeth met his eyes and pointed at him accusingly, and Percy laughed and gave her a cheerful shrug. She rolled her eyes. Ruya stifled a giggle.

“Tier three is when you’re able to focus on doing things that make you happy,” Cassia said, drawing a few more icons onto the pyramid. “Your physical needs are being met, and your responsibilities have been handled. At this point, the best thing you can do for yourself is to have fun and be happy. Spend time with friends, engage in hobbies, find a new romantic relationship – whatever you want.”

“Um, Lucas talks a lot about doing those things when I’m having a hard time,” Lucy said tentatively. Cassia nodded firmly.

“The distinction is a little shaky,” she agreed. “The main difference is intent. You and Lucas are talking about self-soothing, when you make yourself happy to combat distress. Tier three self-care is about making yourself happy for the sake of being happy.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” Matthew groaned, putting his head in his hands.

“You get used to it, surprisingly,” Nico informed him, surprising Percy. “It sounds complicated now, but buckle in, this is all you’re going to be talking about for the next three months.” Matthew let out a startled snort, and Lucy laughed quietly.

“You can ask Giovanni for help with anything if you’re not comfortable asking during group,” Cassia added, sympathetic. “Or you can talk to me during rec time. All of us here are always open to conversation.”

Matthew fidgeted, and then said, “It just... all sounds really technical. But there’s nothing technical about feelings, especially when they’re all screwed up. What are we supposed to be learning?”

“Boys,” Violetta sighed, burying her face in her hands. Matthew looked offended.

“You’d be surprised by how predictable psychology can be,” Cassia told Matthew, “and it’s helped by the fact that St. Joan’s specializes in young abuse survivors, which means there’s relatively little variation in pathology. A large part of our program is dedicated to teaching psychology that most people never learn, because those principles will help you recover.”

“Oh,” Matthew mumbled, and he still looked dubious but he did settle down.

“So this is where we want to be,” Nico clarified, glancing up at Cassia as he returned them to the subject. Cassia nodded.

“Tier three isn’t peak mental health, but it’s comfortable,” she agreed. “This is where most people spend most of their time, searching for happiness. As long you’re able to find it as often as not, this is a good place to be.”

Percy played with the ball, and then said, “This is kinda where St. Joan’s keeps us. Right? Our needs are being met, the only thing we have to do is go to therapy, and we have time to socialize and have fun. That last one is kinda hard sometimes, but we get enough of it to feel okay.”

Cassia gave him a bright, pleased smile and nodded. “We try to keep you somewhere between three and four,” she agreed. “As you mentioned, of course, it can be difficult to make sure you’re able to have fun; often the children that come here are too emotionally unwell to play at first. But there’s room to, at least.”

“So,” Ruya said hesitantly, “therapy is tier four self-care?”

“Absolutely,” Cassia said with confidence. “Tier four is dedicated to self-improvement. Your needs are met, responsibilities done, you have plenty of time to enjoy yourself – tier four is where you find time to work on things that make you feel satisfied and proud of yourself. Volunteer work, spiritual growth, and changing habits to be healthier are all tier four self-care. And so is therapy.”

“But therapy is like... important,” Amethyst pointed out. “Basically a need, if you’re as fucked up as us.”

“It very much is,” Cassia agreed, more softly. “But it wouldn’t be nearly as effective if your other needs weren’t met first. Imagine if you didn’t have any free time while you were here, or if you couldn’t have visitors, or if our attendance policy was stricter. Any of those would cause unnecessary stress, and that would make it much more difficult to focus on the important mental and emotional labor you’re doing. So, St. Joan’s makes meeting those needs as easy as possible.”

Amethyst looked thoughtful. Annabeth and Matthew did too.

“That’s why St. Joan’s is for serious cases,” Cassia added. “If you were able to meet those needs on your own, you would be on the outside, meeting with a therapist once a week. But all of you here need some extra support, and we want to make sure you get that.”

Annabeth muttered a vicious curse under her breath. “Is that why I wasn’t able to work things out with my dad?” she asked. Her voice wavered slightly, and Percy was stunned by the raw emotion she was letting herself show to Cassia. “Because I was too stressed out to focus on therapy?”

“Perhaps,” Cassia said gently. “I’m afraid Mai hasn’t told me much about your situation.”

Annabeth hesitated, seeming to realize where she was, and cast a glance over the room. Then she made a decision. “Right before I came here, I spent about a month trying to do family therapy with my dad,” she said, without meeting Cassia’s eyes. “We went through three therapists before I gave up and ran away again.”

Understanding flashed across Cassia’s face, and she looked, if anything, even more sympathetic. “It’s most likely,” she said. “A family therapist is trained to facilitate communication in families that struggle with it, but it requires cooperation and open-mindedness. That kind of collaboration is a lot to ask from someone who’s struggling as much as you are now, let alone when you first arrived.” She met Annabeth’s eyes. “You needed to take time for yourself first. I hope your father understands that.”

Annabeth brought her knees up, and then said quietly, “I think he does now.”

Chapter Text

Percy took the drawing out of his box and closed it, then showed it to Raine.

“I talked about this a little last year,” he explained, dropping down to straddle his chair, “but it kinda connects back to the temper thing, so I figured I should probably do it properly. It’s, uh, the second time Gabe refused to let me and Mom go to Montauk.”

Raine’s brow furrowed, and her hand twitched as if to flip back in her notebook. Percy caught on pretty quickly.

“I threw a tantrum and he took away Mom’s transport budget,” he explained. Recognition glinted in her eyes, and she nodded. He crossed his ankles and let out a sigh, leaning over onto the chair back. “I was eleven at this point, and already upset ‘cause I’d gotten expelled again. And I was nervous, ‘cause he hadn’t let us go the year before – um, we usually celebrated the end of the school year by going there, so the timing was pretty routine.” He shrugged. “I got home while Mom was still at work, so I took a taxi, gave most of the cash I had on me to Smelly Gabe, and started carting his stuff out of my room.”

“Then what happened?”

“We got into an argument about his stuff being in my room,” Percy said, scowling at the memory. “That was an every year thing too. I’d haul his stuff out of my room, he’d tell me off for it, I’d talk back, he’d hit me. There wasn’t as much stuff in my room during the summer, I guess ‘cause he was too lazy to force the issue that much, but it always smelled like him.”

“And then?”

“I was almost done with that by the time Mom came home,” Percy said, “but I hadn’t unpacked anything, ‘cause I wanted to go to Montauk so bad. I hadn’t seen Mom since Christmas, and that was the year Gabe made us return half our Christmas stuff, so I was getting kind of desperate.” He anxiously drummed his fingers on the back of the chair, then made a decision and got up to grab Fang. “Um, Mom got home and asked me about how I’d been and stuff, and eventually I asked her if we were going to Montauk. She told me that money was still tight but she’d try to talk Gabe into it. I...” His throat closed up.

“Percy?” Raine prompted softly. Percy swallowed hard, clenched and unclenched his fists, and then forced his body to relax.

“I, I remember that I thought I heard something,” he said quietly, feeling sick. He hugged Fang tightly, pressing his cheek against it. “I couldn’t really make it out. But I remember I could hear them talking and... and then I heard something and they stopped.” He looked up. “I, I thought it was the toaster or something. It made me jump. B-but Mom seemed fine when she walked back in, a-and I got distracted really fast because she told me we couldn’t go.”

“It seems like you realized something,” Raine noted. Percy flexed his fists again, his heart beating hard enough for him to feel.

“I think he hit her,” he said quietly. “He, he hit her because I was being a brat. Because I wouldn’t just fucking drop it.” He leaned over, hiding his face against Fang, and hiccupped. “Why didn’t I drop it? It was obvious the answer was no.”

“Can you tell me why you were persistent?” Raine prompted. Percy tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

“I wanted to go,” he said. “I wanted to spend time with Mom and actually enjoy it. I... going to Montauk made me happy.”

Raine nodded, and then prompted softly, “What happened next?”

“Started throwing a tantrum,” he mumbled. “I... I even took it out on Mom a little. I don’t even think I said anything. I got up and started throwing the rest of Gabe’s stuff out of my room. Slammed the door when Gabe made Mom go get him a beer.” He tapped his foot, hugging Fang tightly. “Um, I don’t know what to say about the rest. Most of it was a lot of little things over the rest of the day, he didn’t blow up ‘til after dinner.”

“Tell me what you remember,” Raine said. “What you did, what your mother did, how Gabriel responded. The order isn’t important.”

Percy nodded distractedly, leaning against the chair back. “I... did whatever I thought I’d get away with, basically,” he said. “Asked him if he’d been in to work lately, covered my nose and made gagging noises when he was near me. Threw his stuff around – like, shoved everything off the table when I wanted to use it, threw all his stupid dirty clothes on the floor when I sat on the couch. Grabbed the remote and turned the volume down when he wasn’t looking. Um, I think the final straw was when he started smoking and I whined about his cigars.”

“Gabriel was a smoker?”

“I never mentioned that? Yeah. I don’t think about it as much, I guess, ‘cause it wasn’t as obnoxious. But they made me nauseous, so I still hated them.” He shrugged, shifting in place a little to hug Fang again. Raine made a note. “What about it?”

“Nothing urgent,” Raine assured him, “but you may want to have your lungs checked at some point. Secondhand smoke can be very dangerous.”

Percy winced, thinking of the ache in his chest. “And it probably didn’t help when I was breathing sulfur, huh? Okay, I’ll bring it up to...” He trailed off, biting his cheek. His mom didn’t need another thing to feel guilty about. “You know what, let’s talk about that later.”

Raine nodded, and then prompted, “How did Gabriel respond?”

Percy exhaled. “He didn’t usually do anything if I was just being a brat,” Percy said, “which was why I thought I could get away with it. Like, he’d bitch back and stuff, but for the most part he didn’t seem to care.” He fiddled with Fang’s fin. “I remember... he asked me about my grades, reminded me how I’d gotten expelled, made some stupid comments about how I had no future and I was gonna end up in and out of jail until I got knifed.”

“That’s... specific.”

“He liked reminding me what a no-good delinquent I was,” Percy explained, wincing when Raine made another note. “Does it matter?”

“If I had to guess,” Raine said, “I’d say it has a lot to do with why you keep referring to your childhood self as a psycho.”

“Not the fact that it was true?”

“I’ve neither seen nor heard any reason to believe that,” Raine said gently. “But this is something to discuss later. How did your mother respond?”

Percy sighed, but let it go. “Uh, she mostly just let it slide. Like I said, Smelly Gabe didn’t usually care much. But, uh, I guess she noticed when he was reaching the boiling point, because a little while before that she pulled me aside to apologize and stuff, and ask if I wanted to go somewhere else, and finally she just begged me to stop winding Gabe up.”

“Begged?”

Percy shut his eyes, thinking back, and leaned into his stuffed shark. “She was really anxious,” he recalled quietly. “Close to crying, I think. She held my hands and said ‘please.’” He exhaled shakily. “I wasn’t thinking about why she was so desperate for me to stop. I was too mad to care.”

“Were you mad?” Raine prompted softly. “Or were you protecting yourself from other emotions?”

He hesitated. “I was mad,” he decided. “I was mad at Gabe. I wanted to hit him, but I knew I couldn’t. I...” He trailed off. “I was mad at the control he had over us, but I was also really, really sad. I didn’t want to face a whole summer with Gabe without getting that time with Mom. That was the best part of the year, for me. Hell, it was better than my birthday.”

Raine nodded. “What happened when Gabriel blew up?”

“He threw his box of cigars at me and told me I was lucky Mom cared about me,” Percy said. “Then he told Mom she’d have to walk to work that month, because he needed another bar night if he had to deal with me. With her brat.”

“What happened then?”

“I... started trying to take everything back,” Percy said. “Apologizing and stuff, said I’d stop. He told me to shut up, and Mom told me it was okay even though I could tell she was upset. I couldn’t think of anything else to say, and I didn’t want Gabe to see me cry, so I ran outside onto the fire escape.”

“And then?”

“I was alone out there for a bit,” he said. “Pretty much just broke down. Mom came outside and comforted me, told me it was gonna be okay and stuff, and offered to get ice cream in the park again. And I said yes that time, I guess ‘cause I’d realized Montauk just wasn’t happening.”

He scrubbed at his eyes. His hand came away only a little wet.

“And that was it,” he said. “Mom took me to the park to cheer me up, and we stayed out for a few hours and talked. I apologized a couple of times. She did too, which I... didn’t get, at the time.” He swallowed, and repeated, “That was it.”

“Alright,” Raine murmured. “How did you feel on the way home?”

“Nervous, excited,” Percy said. “I couldn’t wait to see Mom, but I was also already thinking about whether or not we’d be able to go to Montauk. I was pretty much planning on asking as soon as I saw her.”

“And when you arrived?”

“Gabe was drunk,” Percy recalled, tapping his feet anxiously. “I mean, he was always drinking, but he always got really red was he was drunk, so I could usually tell.” He shrugged. “It didn’t matter much. He wasn’t a violent drunk or anything. He was just louder and complainier.”

Raine almost smiled, amusement flashing through her eyes before she focused. “How did you feel, running into him?”

Percy huffed, tucking Fang closer absentmindedly. “Annoyed, but also kind of nervous. I wanted to get out of his sight as soon as I could. But then he called me over and told me he had a game that weekend, so I had to give him money.”

“Right away?”

“Always right away,” Percy said bitterly. “I don’t know how he figured it out, but at some point he got a sense for when I had money on me. And I always had money on me when I came home for the summer, ‘cause I’d sell candy during the school year.” Raine raised an eyebrow, and Percy actually smiled a little. “Rich kids, you know? A lot of them didn’t have the guts to sneak candy in, and they’d pay five times price, easy, for a candy bar.”

Raine chuckled. “And then?”

Percy’s smile disappeared. “I gave it to him,” he said. “Always told myself this would be the year I stood up for myself, but...” He shrugged. “I had almost forty dollars on me, which was a lot for an eleven-year-old. I gave him everything but the change.”

“How did you feel about that?”

“Bitter,” Percy said. “I hated him and I hated myself. Him for doing this to me, and myself for letting him.”

“And now?”

Percy rubbed his face. “I’m having trouble with it,” he admitted. “I never really thought of myself as a victim then, but looking back on it now... he basically had me trained. I... I don’t like it. It makes me feel... ashamed, and hurt. Ashamed for giving in so completely, and hurt because I understand better now that that never should have happened, and... and I didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s a sign of your progress that you recognize that,” Raine reassured him. “Many abuse survivors feel a sense of shame when they look back on their behavior. That’s natural. Remember that it was his fault for taking advantage of your vulnerability, not yours for being vulnerable.”

The subtle reframing did make Percy feel a little better. He nodded mutely.

“And then you started moving his stuff out of your room, right?” Raine prompted.

“Ugh,” Percy said. Despite his flippant tone, a vicious scowl quickly spread across his face. “The worst part of coming home. I’d walk into my room and it wouldn’t even look like my room. Mom had to put my bedsheets away because he’d get his disgusting freaking sweat and grease all over them. Cigar butts, too. I wouldn’t be able to open my closet because it’d be blocked off by boxes of car magazines and tools, like he thought he was some kind of mechanic. Like he had one useful skill.” Percy kicked the floor. “Garbage all over the floor, ants from all the spilled beer, chip bags and empty cans.” Percy exhaled. “Sorry. I didn’t think I’d get this worked up about it.”

“That’s natural,” Raine reassured him. “You weren’t able to adequately express these feelings at the time, were you?”

Percy slumped back and shook his head. “Whole apartment looked like that,” he muttered. “I felt stupid complaining about it in my room, and I knew Mom’s room was like that.” He rubbed his face. “I mean – I have ADHD, I’m pretty messy. My room is a disaster of dirty clothes and misplaced stuff. And I don’t mind that, not like Mom does. But living in filth like that, it sucks. It gets to a point where you’re just constantly fighting not to touch gross stuff. I don’t want fruit flies in my water. I don’t want to sit on puddles of mustard. I don’t want to eat on the fire escape because all the smells are making me nauseous.”

Raine made a note. “You desperately needed personal space,” she said, “and you weren’t able to get it. His things in your room were the last straw.”

Percy sighed, slumping down. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said. “I haven’t thought about it in a long time. I guess I’m still touchy about it.” He scuffed the floor, starting to feel embarrassed about his outburst. “Um, anyway, I wasn’t thinking about all that. I was just mad that he’d put all his stuff in my room again. And being mad like that made it easier to not be afraid of him hitting me for messing with his stuff.”

“A coping mechanism you retain to this day,” Raine pointed out.

“Huh. I guess so.” Percy shrugged and hugged Fang. “He asked me what I was doing, and I told him I was taking his greasy boxes out of my room. He told me he paid the rent, he owned the room, and to put it back. I told him to take a hike off a pier, and he got up to hit me.” He rubbed his cheek with a grimace. “Said something about learning respect. Whatever.”

“How did you feel then?”

Percy considered. “Sort of like when I gave him my money,” he decided. “I just kind of laid there for a minute and felt angry and humiliated. There’s something that feels... bad, about getting hit like that. It’s not just that it hurts. There’s something about knowing a hit is coming and not fighting back. It makes you feel small and weak.” He squeezed his toy shark, pensive. “That was what made me so mad. Didn’t like feeling like that.”

Raine nodded solemnly. “And then your mother came home.”

Percy’s heart clenched. “I was so excited,” he said. “I don’t know why, but I was convinced the answer would be yes. I, um, I ran to the door and hugged her, and we went back to my room so we could talk. She could barely walk because I was clinging to her so tight.”

“Why did you go to your room for the conversation?” Raine asked. Percy scowled.

“Smelly Gabe didn’t like listening to her dote on me,” he said. “Whenever he thought Mom was talking too much, especially about me, he’d start talking over her and complaining about annoying she was.” His fists clenched.

Raine nodded. “And then you asked about Montauk.”

Percy exhaled shakily. “I wanted it so bad,” he said. He reached back for what he remembered wanting, and his cheeks heated up a little. “There was, um. Mom and I didn’t get a lot of time to cuddle, at home. Gabe didn’t like it, and he’d push me around until I moved. But we did it all the time at Montauk.”

“Physical affection means a lot to you,” Raine noted. Percy nodded.

“It’s nice,” he said. “Soothing, I mean. Never calmer than when I’m cuddling with someone.”

Raine smiled at him. “A good thing to remember when you’re feeling unwanted,” she noted, and then, “And she went to ask Gabriel, yes?”

Percy nodded, taking a deep breath. “I was nervous,” he said. “For whatever reason, I seriously still thought there was a chance, and if I just wanted it enough, maybe it would happen. I was straining my ears trying to make out what they were saying.” He rubbed a fin between his fingers. “I guess I still sort of thought Mom could do anything then. But, uh, then there was that sound, and Mom came back in and said we didn’t have the money.”

“How did she seem to you?”

“She looked as heartbroken as I was,” Percy admitted. “I, I can’t imagine what that must have been like for her. Giving up, I mean. Having to tell me we couldn’t go just because Gabe slapped her.” He glanced at Raine. “I mean- that makes it sound like I don’t get it. But I do. Really.”

“I know,” Raine said softly. “How did you feel when she said no?”

“I-” Percy hesitated. His instinctive response was angry, but really... “I was crushed. I didn’t know how to process it. I think maybe that was why I got angry. I was too sad to just be sad.” Raine nodded. Percy debated for a moment before adding, softer, “Looking back, I think... that might have been one of the first times I wanted to kill myself. I mean, maybe I’m just adding that in hindsight, but I was really, really counting on getting a weekend with Mom.”

Raine nodded again. “You were incredibly psychologically dependent on your mother as a child,” she noted. Percy shrugged.

“What else was there?” he asked, bitterness creeping into his voice. He tried to shake it off. “Uh, so I got angry. When she said we couldn’t, I don’t think I even said anything. I just turned away to throw out the rest of Gabe’s things – piles of magazines, mostly, and a couple boxes I had to kick out the door. Muddy boots.” He closed his eyes, concentrating. “I wasn’t thinking, not really. I just wanted to take my anger out on something, and I hated Gabe’s stuff anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Mom, um, tried to help. I think she felt bad about not being able to convince Gabe. But Gabe called her out, and I slammed the door behind her.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to be alone,” Percy said, voice roughening. “Everything was out but the garbage then, so I just threw myself onto my bed and screamed into the mattress. And it fucking stank like him and like beer and smoke and...” He reached up and scrubbed his face. “Shit, I can’t seriously be about to cry over this.”

“Did you cry then?” Raine asked softly. Percy shook his head.

“No,” he managed, without looking at her. “I just screamed. Kicked the mattress, like, full-on five-year-old tantrum. I was so angry that it hurt.” He paused. “But I guess that wasn’t it at all, huh? I was sad, a-and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Raine nodded. “It was a lot of emotion for you to handle at your age,” she said. “But it’s okay. You’re safe now. You can be sad.”

It was easier, now, to let his emotions run their course. He leaned against his hand and sobbed quietly, tears spilling down his cheeks from closed eyes. Remembered pain leaked away, betrayal and hopelessness and frustration and all that stuff he’d been too young to fully understand. Raine waited patiently.

“I didn’t want to live like that,” he managed at last, scrubbing at his eyes. “I couldn’t stand living like that. I don’t know how Mom dealt with it. Every time I think back, all I can think about is how much I wanted to be somewhere else.”

“She thought she was doing the right thing for you,” Raine said quietly. “Sally seems to be the kind of mother that can take boundless strength from that.”

Percy sniffled and nodded, then took his hand away from his face to sit up again.

“I realized this weekend that I still resent her for it,” he admitted, glad that the words would never reach Sally’s ears. “I know it’s not really fair of me, because there really weren’t any good options. But gods, who could I have been if I hadn’t grown up like that? If I just knew how to not hate myself?”

“It’s normal to mourn the person you could have been without your trauma,” Raine reassured him. “The childhood you could have had, the opportunities you lost. You can feel that grief and still understand that there were no easy options. I think you’ll find it easier to fully forgive your mother once you’ve processed that pain.”

Percy exhaled and nodded, leaning against the chair again.

“I didn’t come out for an hour or two,” he said at last. “I was too overwhelmed to be around anyone until then – I just felt too raw. I was...” He faltered, looked down, and rubbed Fang’s snout. He missed Cacao, a little. “Um, I was mad at Mom too. I knew she didn’t deserve it, but I was just so upset. I hated everyone.” He glanced up, met Raine’s eyes, and amended, “I was unhappy.”

Raine nodded solemnly. “And you started expressing it passively.”

“Yeah,” Percy sighed, setting his cheek on Fang. “I’ve never had a real outburst at Mom, not even a little one like this, and Gabe wasn’t safe to go against head-on. But I was too angry not to take it out on something, so I just stomped around tantrum-ing.” Raine’s mouth twitched. Percy managed a smile. “Yeah. I think I knew in the back of my head that it would end badly, but I had to let it out somehow. I...” He hesitated, trying to think. “I... think I wanted them to be sorry for making me feel this way.”

“How do you feel about that now?”

Percy bit his tongue against his instinctive answer and considered it for a moment. “I don’t know. Obviously Gabe was never going to be sorry, and Mom already was. I, I guess it was sort of like what we talked about with Akhlys.” He gave Raine an anxious glance without meaning to. “Where I just wanted to punish someone for how awful I felt.”

“That would be reasonable,” Raine said softly. “You had an incredibly harrowing day.”

Percy frowned, then ran over the summary he’d given her and sighed. “Yeah, I guess it was,” he admitted, resigned. “I never dreaded coming home, because I hated being at school too, but those first couple days were always hard. I didn’t really think anything of it.”

“It was very routine for you,” Raine agreed. “How did you feel when your mother asked you to stop?”

“I was mad at her too,” Percy repeated softly, “and I wasn’t really listening. I don’t think there’s anything that would’ve calmed me down.”

“You’d lost control of your emotions,” Raine noted. Percy nodded without looking at her. “How do you feel about it, looking back?”

“I’m kind of frustrated with myself,” he said. “I didn’t need to make things worse, you know? They were bad enough, and Mom and I were miserable already. I don’t get why I can’t just control myself.”

“Emotional dysregulation is a common feature of ADHD,” Raine pointed out.

“Emotional what?”

“Emotional dysregulation,” Raine said. “It comes with the impulsiveness, and it’s part of why we spend so much time on self-soothing. ADHD makes it more difficult to keep your emotions under control.” She tilted her head slightly. “Come to think of it, it may have also played a role in your difficulty with anger management.”

“I didn’t know that,” Percy said, slouching to hide half his face against Fang.

“Letitia mentioned it during a staff meeting,” Raine admitted. “Eddie, Mai, Letitia, and I spent some time discussing self-soothing and alternative therapy techniques, since our current cases are stretching our skillsets a bit.” Percy bit his cheek. “Eddie and Mai both came away with a number of techniques to try. I put a couple in my back pocket, but I think you’re comfortable with how we’re doing things now, yes?”

Percy relaxed and nodded. “Yeah, it’s good,” he said. “So... it’s not weird that I’m so emotional?”

“Not at all,” Raine said. “And even if your ADHD wasn’t making it more difficult to control your reactions, your feelings would still be valid. Emotions are frequently irrational by nature. You don’t need to justify them.”

Percy smiled wryly. “Yeah, but it makes me feel better.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the tension. “Um.”

“You were speaking about your mood in the wake of Gabriel’s refusal,” Raine provided.

“Right,” Percy said, grimacing. “Uh, so Mom asked me to stop winding Gabe up, and I was too overwhelmed to listen. Dinner was kind of tense, but we didn’t eat together or anything – Gabe sat on the couch, and Mom and I usually ate in the kitchen. And then Gabe lit up a cigar after dinner – pretty normal for him, but I was sulking too much to eat quickly, and cigars made me nauseous, so I started whining about it.” He paused, trying to think. “I think the anger was starting to burn out by then, and I was kind of getting resigned to the fact that it was summer now, and this would be my life until the school year started back up. So Gabe blowing up, it caught me by surprise.”

“What happened?”

“He stormed into the kitchen,” Percy said quietly. “Scared the shit out of me, to be honest. And he threw the box of cigars and started yelling at me – about how he never got any respect, a-and that if it were up to him I’d be out on the street, and only my mom could put up with me.” He took a breath. “I don’t know why that affected me so much. I hated him. Why should I care what he thought of me?”

“The intent to hurt is a powerful thing,” Raine murmured. Percy nodded vaguely.

“He kind of finished the whole thing off with the punishment,” he said. “Like he’d decided we weren’t sorry enough. Just looked at me, turned to Mom, and told her she’d be walking to work.”

“How did you feel then?”

“Horrified,” Percy said. “I mean- it was my first day back home, and I’d already made things worse for Mom. I just... wanted to do anything I could to fix it. I don’t remember most of what I said, but I think I even offered to put his stuff back in my room. But it was too late.”

“Why?”

Percy frowned, distracted. “Huh?”

“You’ve talked about how important it is to you that your room be your own,” Raine noted, meeting his eyes. “What compelled you to sacrifice that?”

“Um-”  Percy was stumped for a minute before he caught on. “I put Mom through a lot already. She worked two jobs, a-and now she was going to have to find me another new school too. And I was failing all my classes-” He stopped himself and took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. He hugged Fang to his chest. “I guess... I decided I wasn’t worth that. What I wanted wasn’t as important as what Mom needed.”

“When you were talking about that invasion of your space earlier, you started crying,” Raine pointed out. Percy crossed his arms and set his chin on Fang.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “But Mom was everything to me. As long as I had her, we could figure something out.” He hesitated. “I don’t think I completely thought it through. But I was desperate, and I felt guilty.”

“Why were you desperate?”

Percy’s eyes burned, and he reached up to rub at them. “Because I was miserable,” he admitted, “and I needed my mom.”

“How do you feel about that now?”

Percy took a moment to gather himself, breathing slowly. “I’m not as mad at myself anymore,” he decided. “I kind of get now that I was overwhelmed, like, way past capacity, and I wasn’t really in control. But I still feel guilty, and... it hurts. It hurts that this happened.”

“I know,” Raine murmured. “Let’s look at that guilt. Did you do anything wrong?”

Percy’s breath hitched. “I don’t know. I think so. I should’ve been able to control myself.”

“Should you?” Raine asked. “You were eleven, coming home to an abusive household, full of bad news and missing your mom. Was it fair to expect you to behave well? Should you have an infinite capacity to accept pain quietly?”

He hiccupped and rubbed his eyes wearily. “Mom did.”

“Your mother knew what she was suffering for,” Raine said gently. “It gave her strength. You were a child, still learning to regulate your emotions, at an age where you are supposed to feel safe.”

He took a deep breath. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, as steadily as he could. “Gabe did. I was in a lot of pain, and it’s his fault for punishing Mom when I expressed it.” His shoulders loosened a little. “Gabe was wrong. Not me.”

Raine gave him a small, pleased smile and nodded. “Very good,” she murmured. “Can you forgive yourself for your frustration?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I think I can.” He wiped his eyes. “That was such an awful month. I mean... for Mom, obviously, but for me too. Mom was barely ever home, so I was pretty much taking care of myself and staying out of the house. A whole freaking month of just waiting for it to be over... out of seven years of waiting to see Mom again.”

“You had precious little happiness as a child,” Raine acknowledged. “Are you ready for another assignment?”

Percy shrugged. “Sure.”

“Keep a happiness journal,” Raine said. “It can be a sketchbook if you want. Every day, maybe as part of your bedtime ritual, jot down a few things that made you happy that day. Include as much variety as possible. I want you to learn that happiness is no longer rare for you. You experience it every day.”

Percy smiled a little. He’d stopped writing down good deeds a few weeks ago, but he remembered the slow return of positivity that the activity had brought. “Alright, I can do that.” Something occurred to him. “Hey. Is it... weird, to hear me go from talking about Tartarus to, to this?” He tapped the wood, trying to stem his anxiety. “I mean- I, I know this stuff isn’t nothing, but it’s not Tartarus.”

Gratifyingly, Raine seemed to genuinely consider the question.

“Not as much as you’d think,” she said at last. “I don’t have the context to fully understand what you go through during quests; it’s simply too far beyond my experience. But I’ve counseled abused children for years, and the way you speak about those experiences fits in seamlessly.” She shrugged. “If anything, working with you has driven home just how psychologically devastating abuse is. For you to go through the things you do, and still be so affected by your upbringing – that trauma is rooted very, very deep.”

Percy relaxed and nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that too,” he admitted. “Ever since I realized how much my self-esteem issues get into everything. I never would’ve thought that that would be part of my fear of drowning.”

“Self-esteem is critically important,” Raine agreed, “even if few consider it as such. I’m glad that you put so much heart into working on it.”

Percy grinned self-consciously. “Yeah. It’s... good. I like it.”

Chapter Text

“I haven’t really talked to you about school stuff, have I?” Percy asked, taking the newest picture out of his trauma box. Raine hummed.

“You’ve glossed over it and mentioned a few incidents in passing, but we’ve never discussed it deeply, no.”

Percy nodded, set the picture on her desk, and straddled his chair. She leaned to examine it: an office with a vague, sketchy silhouette of Percy sulking inside.

“I started getting into fistfights when I was about nine,” he said. “Looking back, I don’t know if it was the boarding schools or the bathroom thing, but one way or another I... got overwhelmed, and I couldn’t contain it at all.”

“What happened here?” Raine asked quietly, tapping the picture.

“Wasn’t the first fistfight I got into, but it was the first one that got me expelled,” Percy said, then rolled his eyes. “Or technically, not welcomed back. I guess it’s a bad look for the private school to throw out the only poor kid mid-year.” Raine made a note. “Gods, is that about the income thing? I don’t want it. I hate talking about money stuff.”

Raine gave him an apologetic look. “We’ll approach it delicately, when you feel ready to do so,” she promised. “It doesn’t even have to be while you’re here. But please, continue.”

Percy huffed, but gave in. “This was at my first boarding school,” he told her. “A week before winter break. Mom gave me a calendar so I could track how many days I had left before I came home, and I was crossing them out every day. But, um, a couple days before this, I’d crossed out every remaining day before winter break, because I really wanted time to go faster.”

“You were under a lot of strain,” Raine noted. Percy nodded.

“It was right before final exams, and we’d just gotten our study guides back,” he recalled, “and my scores were shit, so I already knew I’d fail at least half my tests. When I was at home, Mom could sometimes help me with my homework, but like hell I was asking a teacher for help.” He paused, expecting Raine to comment, but she just nodded. “And then, uh...” He reached up, rubbed his knuckles against his temple. “This one kid, Xavier, had been picking on me all year. It was pretty obvious he just wanted an easy target. He came to look my scores, laughed at me, and called me a retard in front of everyone.”

“You have a history with that word,” Raine commented. Percy grimaced and nodded.

“Name-calling didn’t bother me most of the time,” he confided. “Those mocking rhymes schoolkids do, I always thought those were stupid, and they just annoyed me. But the r-word... that got to me. I think maybe because I had to ask Mom what it meant, and when I asked her she started crying and coddling me like something awful had happened.”

“How do you feel about that, looking back?”

“Mostly I just feel sad for both of us,” he said. “I was really young, five or six, and Gabe started calling me that. I, um, I was going to tell her, but when she started crying I decided not to.”

“Why not?”

Percy shrugged. “I was six,” he said again. “I wasn’t expecting her to get so upset when I asked, so I knew it was something really bad, and I guess I didn’t want to upset her more.”

“Do you remember how she explained it to you?”

Percy closed his eyes, frowning as he cast his mind as far back as he could. “Kinda,” he said. “She told me... that it was a very, very mean word for someone that has trouble learning, and I should never call anyone or let anyone call me that.” He opened his eyes. “I probably should have told her right then where I’d heard it. She asked. I don’t know if it would’ve changed anything, but it might have.”

“Many things might have,” Raine agreed gently. “But you were a child, and you didn’t fully understand what was going on. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Percy sighed and nodded. “Anyway, so this kid called me the r-word, and I got up and punched him in the face, and we, you know, grappled for a while before the teachers pulled us apart. Xavier got sent to the school nurse, and I got sent to the principal’s office. I think I sat in there for about an hour, listening to him lecture me about the opportunity I’d been given and how stupid I was for wasting it.”

“What happened afterward?”

“I didn’t really understand how bullies worked yet,” Percy told her, “but I’d given the game away by getting so mad. For the rest of that school year, kids were writing it on my desk and locker at least once a week. Even got it taped to my back a few times.” He sighed. “By the end of the year, I was pretty glad to be leaving.”

Raine nodded. “How did you feel leading up to this incident?”

“I was more sad than anything,” he admitted. “It was my first time being away from Mom for so long. I still didn’t completely understand why she’d sent me to a boarding school. And surrounded by all those rich kids who knew their parents didn’t love them... I was kind of feeling insecure about whether Mom still loved me.”

“How did that play out?”

Percy shrugged. “I came to terms with it eventually. Mom was still spending as much time with me as possible whenever I was home, and that made me feel a lot better about it. Um, it still kind of hurt, but I stopped feeling so insecure.”

“And now?”

“Our conversation in family therapy helped a lot,” Percy said. “I’m older now, and it’s a lot easier to understand that in a lot of ways, Mom really didn’t know what to do. She was just trying to protect me any way she could.”

Raine smiled at him, then prompted, “You said that you crossed out extra days on your calendar?”

Percy nodded. “Crossing out the days until I saw Mom again gave me a lot of comfort,” he said. “Sometimes it was the highlight of a bad day. I knew crossing out all the days to winter break wouldn’t do anything, but... I wanted the comfort, I guess. I wanted to imagine that it was already time to go home.”

“You were still young,” Raine agreed. “Most children take comfort in fantasy. It’s a perfectly normal response. How did you feel in the days following that?”

Percy sighed. “I wasn’t really putting much effort into school,” he admitted. “I’d kind of... shut off, I guess. I didn’t want to be there anymore. I was just waiting to go home.”

“Why?”

“I was sad, and I was lonely,” Percy said. “I didn’t care enough about my grades to still be trying, and I didn’t have any friends there.”

“You didn’t make any friends?”

He shook his head. “I had patchy clothes, I was bad at school, and I was really unfriendly,” he said. “No one wanted to be around me.”

“What makes you say you were unfriendly?”

Percy shrugged. “I still had a pretty bad temper at that point,” he said. “If anything, I was worse, because I wasn’t going home to Mom. So I sat by myself, I’d elbow people who got too close to me, and I snapped at anyone who tried to talk to me.”

“Did you want to make friends with anyone?”

Percy considered that. “I probably would’ve responded well if someone had tried,” he decided. “Because I really was just lonely. But, uh, I definitely didn’t know that. I think I just figured no one could ever like me except my mom.” Something about that bugged him, and he hesitated. “Raine. Was my relationship with my mom... unhealthy?”

The thought made him kind of sick, and he already regretted asking the question. But it had been bothering him for a while, ever since he realized how heavily dependent he’d been on her as a kid – and since he and Raine had talked about codependency.

Raine was quiet for a minute. “That’s not an easy question to answer,” was what she settled on, leaning against her desk. “It wasn’t a good situation in the long term. You should never depend on a single person for all of your emotional needs; it makes you very vulnerable. On the other hand, without that bond, it’s difficult to say how you would have gotten through your childhood, and your relationship now is healthy and thriving.” She met his eyes. “Ultimately, I think I would place it in the category of unsafe coping mechanisms. It wasn’t healthy, and it’s good that you naturally grew out of that stage – but it was what you needed at the time.”

Oddly, that made him feel better, and he relaxed.

“When I got my study guides back...” He tapped his knee. “I didn’t think about it that much, I guess – I was mostly just resigned, and I felt bad that I was going to bring home a bunch of failing grades, especially since I knew how expensive private school was.”

“How did you feel when Xavier approached you?” Raine asked.

“I didn’t notice at first,” Percy admitted. “I was sulking. But, uh, then he grabbed my papers, and I was instantly, like, furious. Hair trigger, you know? Right away I wanted to rip his face off, and I yelled at him for touching my stuff.”

“Why?”

Percy exhaled. “Good question. It just made me feel better, I guess. And I didn’t like it when people messed with my stuff anyway. I... wanted to scare him enough that he’d stop doing it.”

“What do you think of that now?”

“It was kind of an overreaction,” Percy said, leaning back. “I really just wanted an excuse to get angry. I think... I mean, it’s that thing, right? Trying to take back the power that got taken from you?”

Raine gave him an approving look and nodded. “A lot of your childhood temper was probably you struggling to empower yourself,” she agreed. “And you can see today how that loss of power still affects you. Many of your self-esteem issues and feelings of inadequacy can be traced back to that insecurity.”

“Great,” Percy sighed. “Was there anything I could have done to fix that?”

“I think you did the best thing you could have in that respect,” Raine said. Percy raised an eyebrow, confused. “For obvious reasons, I can’t encourage this, but... By your own merit, you gained the power to defeat your abuser. And instead of using it, you gave that power to your mother, and she used it. I can’t think of a more textbook way to build your confidence. You felt much better afterward, didn’t you?”

Percy blinked. “Yeah, I did,” he said, thinking back. “I didn’t feel like I needed to watch him turn to stone. I didn’t even really want to. I... After my first quest, I wasn’t afraid of him anymore, and I knew he couldn’t chain me down. I... I might not have even let him hit me, if he tried.”

“‘Let’ is an interesting word choice there,” Raine noted. Percy shrugged.

“I didn’t think about it that way at the time, obviously,” he said. “But... I talked a little yesterday, about how bad it felt to know he was gonna hit me and not try to stop him. And I’ve been thinking about it, about why I didn’t fight back. I think it was because I knew he was stronger than me, and I was gonna lose – I was a really scrawny kid. And maybe I would’ve still lost after that first quest, but I think... I might have fought back anyway.”

Raine smiled at him. “That alone shows the leaps and bounds your self-esteem made during that short period,” she said. “How did you feel when Xavier started insulting your work?”

Percy thought about that for longer than he’d meant to. “Humiliated,” he decided. “I’d been counting on being able to wallow quietly about my shitty grades, maybe get some comfort from Mom when I went home. But then he was laughing at me, and I didn’t like that.”

“How did you feel when he called you that name?”

“I snapped,” Percy said. “Like, instantly. I’ve always kind of struggled between calling myself stupid and hating when anyone else said it. And, uh, this was the first time I heard that word from anyone but Gabe. It made me feel sick and worthless.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“All those verbal beatdowns, I guess,” Percy said quietly. “When he’d corner me and tell me how annoying and difficult and retarded I was. It’s hard to think of arguments when you’re being shouted at like that, and once I couldn’t argue anymore...” He shrugged. “Well, then it just seemed like he was right.”

Raine nodded. “How did fighting with Xavier make you feel?”

Percy crossed his arms defensively, leaning against the chair back. “It felt good,” he said without looking at her. “I didn’t like sitting around being sad, you know? Starting fights let me do something about how bad I felt. Being angry felt better than being lonely or embarrassed.”

“What do you think about that?” Raine asked.

Percy exhaled. “I guess that’s the defense mechanism at work, huh?” he said, resigned. “It didn’t hurt as much, and I was in a lot of pain. That’s why I was picking fights all the time.”

“Do you think you handled it well?”

Percy scratched his head. “I handled it... okay,” he decided. “I only picked fights with people that were winding me up on purpose. I never became one of those kids that picked on weaker ones to feel better. But, um, it definitely wasn’t the best choice, and it really would’ve been better for me to try and find something that made me happy.”

“How do you feel, having realized that?”

Percy considered. “I think... okay,” he said, more tentatively this time. He glanced up at Raine. “I was a kid, and I didn’t really know how to deal with my emotions. I... I did the best I could, and...” He thought back to the years of canned anger management lessons. “And... the people that should have been teaching me how to handle it were going about it the wrong way.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He scrubbed his face. “Six school counselors gave me the standard anger management lessons,” he said, “and not one of them wondered why I was so angry. I mean- I get it, I’m sure they’ve dealt with hundreds of kids who were just angry because they were angry. But it’s frustrating, I guess. Out of anyone who could’ve taught me to handle things better... that was kind of their job, right?”

Raine nodded. “School counselors are a good concept poorly executed,” she said. “Like most forms of social work, they’re overworked and undervalued, which makes it difficult for them to do their job with the sensitivity and compassion it requires. In the case, you suffered for that failure.”

Percy rubbed his cheek, feeling tired and resigned. “It’s not too late for me to learn those skills, is it?”

“That’s what you’ve been doing,” Raine pointed out, giving him a small smile. “Percy- think of the stress you’ve been under these last few months. How many times have you vented that stress through bursts of temper?” Percy blinked, realizing that there had only been a couple incidents. “The skills you’ve been learning in therapy have greatly expanded your capacity for stress. You can cope with much more before you need that pressure valve. Your capacity is not infinite, of course, nor should it be. But you are much more able to cope than you were as a child.”

Percy smiled, both pleased and relieved by the realization. “I’m older now,” he said, with as much confidence as he could. “I’m more mature, and I understand myself better.”

Raine’s smile broadened, and she nodded. “You’ve grown a lot since then. It’s important to recognize that progress in yourself.” She paused for a moment, giving him room to speak, and then prompted, “How did you feel after the fight?”

Percy grimaced, but accepted the return to topic. “Bad,” he said. “Once the anger cooled off, I just hated myself. I knew that I’d messed up, and... and I didn’t understand why.” He hesitated, and then tacked on, “Um, it was the year before this that a counselor said that he didn’t understand why I did this stuff to myself.”

Raine nodded thoughtfully. “You were experiencing a lot of extremely complicated emotions, and no one was helping you understand them,” she said. “It’s understandable that you assigned the blame to yourself. What do you think of that now?”

He bit his lip, and then admitted, “I’m still kind of struggling not to say I could’ve just not done that.”

“Can you talk through it?” Raine prompted gently. Percy took a deep breath.

“I could’ve not done that,” he said, slow and careful. “But... it would’ve required maturity and understanding that I didn’t have yet, and... that’s not my fault. I was coping the only way I knew how, and... I had to figure out a way to cope. There was too much for me to just accept.” He met Raine’s eyes, searching anxiously. “But how do I know that? I mean... how do I know when it’s too much, or if I’m just folding because it’s easier?”

Raine tapped her pen against her desk for a minute, contemplative. “You don’t owe anyone pain,” she reminded him after a moment. “Only you can decide when the stress is too much. But looking back... if you had accepted Xavier’s mockery without complaint, do you think you would have been okay afterward?”

The idea actually kind of shook Percy, in a way he didn’t completely understand. “No,” he said. “No, I... shit. I might’ve just broken down crying right there.”

“There you go,” Raine said softly. Percy shifted.

“Wouldn’t that have been better?” he asked.

“There is nothing virtuous about allowing yourself to be pushed to the very edge of your endurance,” Raine said. “Whether you would have been okay... I think it would have depended on how it was dealt with, both by the faculty and your peers. Perhaps you would have calmed down within the hour, no worse for the wear. Or perhaps you would have become hysterical and inconsolable. You are under no obligation to find out.”

“It wasn’t fair to him,” Percy said.

“No,” Raine agreed. “It wasn’t fair to him, and it wasn’t fair to you. But it was not your job to make it fair. That was someone else’s failure.”

Percy tilted his head. “It was bad,” he said slowly, “but it wasn’t my responsibility to fix it.”

Raine smiled at him. “Initiative and generosity are wonderful traits,” she said. “But they are not mandatory. Sometimes, all you can do is your best.”

“All I can do is my best,” Percy echoed back, and promised himself he’d learn to believe it.

Chapter Text

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: [empty]

Is it oaky if I ask you some presonel stuff? Your stil seeing a therepist, rite?

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: re:[empty]

Yeah? Lucas referred me to a guy closer to home, we talk like once a month. What about it?

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Hav you tacked about anger as a defence thing? Wen things get realy bad?

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Why are you asking me?

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

You lashh out lik I do. And you’re mom hurt you. Can we tak about that?

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

You sound like my therapist. Call me. It’ll make things easier.

Relieved, Percy pushed away from the computers and went for the phone instead. He dialed in Jet’s number, and within a couple of rings, Jet picked up.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jet prompted immediately. “Is it anger management week again or something?”

“Ugh,” Percy muttered. “Not yet. Uh, me and Raine have been talking about how my temper affects my self-esteem, and a lot of it has been about anger as a defense mechanism. It made me think about when we talked about feeling powerless, and I wanted to know how you felt about it.” Jet didn’t answer right away, and Percy flushed with embarrassment. “I mean – it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. But I wondered.”

“Nah, I get it,” Jet said, sounding more thoughtful than Percy had expected. “You first though. I’m kinda lost on what you’re after here.”

Fair enough. “A lot of the time, when I really lost it, it was because it was easier to be angry than to face how sad I was,” he explained. “I was lonely or disappointed, but I couldn’t do anything about that, so I got mad, because then I could pick a fight about it. You know? And today Raine and I talked about how that’s a way of trying to take power back.”

“Huh. Okay, I see what you’re getting at now.” Jet was quiet for a minute, and Percy forced himself to give Jet time to think. “Self-harm is a control thing too, I don’t know if you knew that. You’re feeling too much and you don’t know how to deal with it, and you discover by accident that if you hurt yourself, you don’t feel that way anymore. And it’s like you did something right.”

“Pressure valve,” Percy said.

“Yeah,” Jet agreed. “Getting angry didn’t really work for me, ‘cause unfortunately I didn’t want my mom to kill herself, and I was worried about setting her off.”

“Even when she hit you?”

“Especially then,” Jet said, edged with bitterness. “She only hit me on her bad days, when she was really erratic. It meant that I could ask her for homework help and send her flying into a depression.”

Percy’s heart clenched with sympathy. It was still hard to imagine not being able to depend on his mom. “Did you ever try to stop her?”

“Did you?” Jet countered.

“Not once.”

“...Yeah. Me neither.”

The exchange gave Percy an odd feeling of security. Jet was all attitude and pushback, and he’d described his mom as frail and sickly from drug use. It was somehow easier to not be ashamed, knowing Jet hadn’t fought back either.

“Picking fights was always more about setting myself up to get hurt,” Jet added after a moment. “Sorry. Don’t know if that helps you at all.”

“It does,” Percy assured him, leaning on the desk. “I mean – picking fights never ended well for me, obviously, I got in trouble and I got Mom in trouble. So I’ve been thinking a lot about why I kept doing it anyway. Thinking about it like that, comparing it to self-harm – that makes a lot of sense.”

“Because it’s even more irrational?” Jet said dryly.

“Because it’s desperate,” Percy said. “You need to feel better so bad that you’ll do anything, and it doesn’t matter if you know it’s a bad idea.”

Jet was quiet for a moment.

“Did something happen?” he asked. “I mean- besides the obvious. Wait.” Percy was confused until he heard Jet speak again, somewhat muffled and further from the microphone. “What?” Pause. “I’m talking to Percy, I’ll come out when I’m done.” Pause. “This really isn’t a call-back-later kinda conversation, G. I’ll tell you about it when I’m done.”

“Is this a bad time?” Percy asked.

“It’s fine,” Jet said dismissively, voice clear again. “Gertie wants to talk about dinner, they can do that without me. Answer the question.”

It took Percy a moment to remember the question, and another to decide how to answer.

“Me and Annabeth got attacked at one point,” Percy started, slow and careful. “And, uh, I reacted pretty badly. As in, like, Annabeth is having nightmares about my reaction instead of the attack.”

Jet whistled. “Brutal,” he said. “Let me guess, you’re trying to stop feeling bad about it?”

“Got it in one,” Percy said ruefully. “So we’ve been talking about natural reactions to overwhelming stress, and how my childhood set me up to react with anger and violence. It reminded me of you, and I thought maybe you’d run into the same connection.”

“Our childhoods were pretty different,” Jet pointed out. “I mean, you’re still in that thing, right?”

Percy always forgot that Jet sort-of almost knew about the demigod stuff. “Yeah. No getting out of that.”

“Then dude, you’re violent because violence keeps happening to you,” Jet said. “Isn’t that, like, lesson one of trauma psychology?”

Percy let out a startled, rueful laugh. “Yeah. But there’s a difference between like, measured on-purpose violence and freaking the fuck out.”

“Well, yeah. The difference is whether or not you’re freaking out.” Jet hesitated, and then continued, quieter, “What I picked up from Mom was mostly the manipulation stuff. Emotional blackmail. I spent a lot of time at St. Joan’s unlearning that. And for me the physical abuse was really tied into that.”

“Huh.” Percy leaned on the table, turning that over in his head. “It’s weird how much difference details can make.” He hesitated, and then continued, “With me and Gabe, it was always pretty straightforward. He forced me to do things, and I hated him for it.”

“I mean, that’s what abuse is, right?” Jet reasoned. “It’s all about control. The emotional blackmail, that was always to make me do things too. Take care of her when she was high, stay in my room when she had boyfriends over, pretend I wasn’t upset with her. And, uh, when I started doing it, that was the same thing.”

That made a lot of things click for Percy. “And that’s what I do sometimes,” he said. “I hit people to try and force them to leave me alone.”

“That tracks,” Jet agreed. “Find what you were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, feeling lighter. “Thanks. I know this was kinda out of nowhere.”

“Anytime,” Jet said. “I should go, though. Gertie’s knocked on my door twice. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later,” Percy echoed, smiling softly.

“Does everyone feel ready for a more difficult activity today?” Cassia asked. “I talked to everyone’s therapists, but I have a backup planned if anyone is uncomfortable with it.”

Percy gave her a betrayed look. “It’s Friday!”

“Ooh, baby seal eyes,” Violetta hummed.

“It’s still a self-esteem activity,” Cassia assured him. “It just has a bit of tension to start with. Are you comfortable with that?”

Percy sighed, but settled back and nodded. “Yeah. Long as we’re not talking trauma or anything today.” It had been an easier week than the one before, but he still felt kind of worn out.

“Nothing like that,” she promised. “Anyone else?” No one spoke up, and Cassia grabbed her stack of mini-whiteboards and started passing them around. “Everyone write your names at the top of your board. Below that, please make a t-chart and label one side ‘pro’ and the other ‘con.’”

“Oh no,” Matthew muttered.

“Everyone starts with their own board,” Cassia told them, “and I want you to write what you think your strengths and flaws are in those respective sections. Then, when we start passing boards, you can make up to three changes on each board. You can add words or remove them. Afterward, we’ll talk about what ended up on everyone’s charts.”

Amethyst raised her hand. “There are so many things that could go wrong here,” she pointed out. Cassia nodded.

“It’s true,” she admitted, “and I consider carefully whether I think a given group of patients can be responsible with this activity. I trust all of you to be respectful and kind to your fellow patients. If you are not, you will discuss it in a joint session with your peer.”

Amethyst seemed satisfied with that. Nico and Annabeth still looked dubious, but neither spoke up.

They had to scoot closer together so they were in easy reach of each other, and then they got to work. Percy drew the t-chart as requested, and then started filling it out, brow furrowed. Pros of Percy: compassionate, protective, thoughtful. Cons of Percy: scary, impulsive, hotheaded- damn it. He erased ‘hotheaded’ and wrote ‘negative’ instead. He was a little nervous about what he’d get back, but his experiences so far with other kids’ feedback had been good.

At Cassia’s cue, he passed his board to Amethyst and accepted Matthew’s. Matthew had put two pros, helpful and attentive, and three cons, nosy, reckless, and loud. Percy erased ‘nosy’ and ‘loud’ and added ‘curious’ to the pro side, and then passed it on.

The next board he got was Lucy’s. There were four entries on the pro side in two different handwritings, and two on the con side. The pros said compassionate, diplomatic, fun, and sweet, and the cons side had overthinker and insomniac. If Percy squinted, he could see that Matthew had erased ‘annoying.’ After some thought, Percy erased ‘overthinker’ and wrote ‘anxious,’ and then added ‘upbeat’ to the pro side. He passed it on.

It was a fun activity – more so than Percy had expected. He got to use a lot of his practice reframing ideas to be more positive, and it gave him some insight into how everyone saw themselves. He liked trying to see what previous changes had been made, too.

Cassia noticed Nico fuming before Percy did, but they did catch Percy’s attention when Nico snarled, “I can’t spell for shit, that’s what!”

Cassia knelt beside him, meeting his eyes calmly. “I know. I’m sorry writing activities are so difficult for you,” she said. “It’s difficult to find self-esteem activities that don’t involve writing. Would you like some help?”

Nico collapsed into sulking, but after a minute, he nodded grudgingly. Cassia leaned down to look at his board, and they started murmuring.

Around a half-hour later, Percy got his board back, and his heart skipped a beat in the half-second before he could look at it. Cassia gave them a good amount of time, letting the three demigods decipher and then process their boards.

It was a lot fuller than when he’d first passed it, which he should’ve expected. Shifting nervously, he looked at the cons side first. ‘Impulsive’ was still there, but ‘scary’ had been erased and ‘negative’ had been changed to ‘unlucky.’ From the wobbliness of the handwriting, he could tell that either Nico or Annabeth had put it there, which made him chuckle softly. ‘Anxious’ and a word Cassia translated as ‘melancholic,’ meaning prone to sadness, had also appeared.

Nothing too bad, and all things he knew about himself. Oddly anxious, he shifted his attention to the ‘pro’ side. ‘Compassionate,’ ‘protective,’ and ‘thoughtful’ were all still there. ‘Modest,’ ‘charismatic,’ and ‘observant’ were all there. And at the bottom were ‘brave,’ ‘trustworthy,’ and ‘honest.’ He buried his face in his arms and grinned, the sudden high of embarrassed delight making him giggle quietly. When Cassia touched his shoulder, looking concerned, Percy turned his head just enough to grin at her, and she beamed back.

“Would anyone like to start?” Cassia asked. Annabeth sat up and looked at her. “Annabeth?”

Annabeth looked down, frowning at her board. She was opposite Percy, so her board had been about half-done when it reached him; he’d enlisted Cassia’s help to write ‘considerate’ and ‘reliable’ on one side, and ‘reckless’ on the other, which he hoped had made her laugh.

“A few people talked about me being kind,” Annabeth said. “That’s not a trait people usually associate with me.”

Amethyst stared at her. “Really?” she said. “I mean, you’re not warm like Percy is, but you’re really thoughtful and you’re nice more often than not.”

Ruya nodded. “You’re not a baby angel, but you’re nice,” she said. “And a lot of people aren’t. I, um, thought you deserved credit for that.”

Annabeth blinked, then smiled at her, a hint of color dusting her cheeks. “Thanks.”

Violetta raised her hand. “I didn’t realize people liked my art so much,” she said. “That makes me really happy.”

Lucy smiled at her. “You’ve been working on that stuff your whole life,” she said. “You deserve some praise.”

Color dusted Violetta’s cheeks. Nico nodded.

“It’s really good,” he said without looking at her. “I don’t know how you have the patience for it. I don’t.”

They hopped around, talking about their boards. Ruya had been surprised to see all forms of ‘quiet’ or ‘shy’ erased from the cons side of her board. Lucy was grateful that ‘annoying’ had been removed from hers. Amethyst was pleased that someone had moved ‘bossy’ to the pros side as ‘assertive.’

“Awkward is still here,” Nico commented, once he’d gotten Cassia’s attention. “But I was kinda thinking about that as we went around. I put it down as like, something that was bad about me.” He looked up, meeting Cassia’s eyes. “But once the boards started getting passed around, ‘con’ meant stuff that made life hard for people.”

Cassia nodded. “Many people are more critical of themselves than others,” she said. “It’s part of why I use this exercise. Being able to accept flaws as part of your natural self is an important skill.”

Percy was so focused on others, he forgot he had to take a turn until Cassia looked at him. He looked down at his board. After a minute of struggling to find something thoughtful to say, he shrugged.

“This exercise just made me really happy,” he said. “The pros are all things I’m really proud of, and the cons are things I knew about myself, but that I’m not really insecure about.”

He was worried that wouldn’t be enough, but Cassia smiled at him brightly.

“You’ve come a long way since you first returned here,” she said.

Percy had tried a couple different ways to pray to his dad. At first he did it laying down, right before he went to sleep. But that felt weird after a while, and he squirmed around trying to find a position that didn’t feel awkward. He tried kneeling by his bed like Christian kids were supposed to, and instantly disliked it. He tried sitting up, staring at the wall. Eventually, he ended up staring out to window, playing with his charm necklace. It was off today; he was trying to sleep without it, like Raine had suggested.

“Hey, Dad,” he said softly, wrapping the thin chain around his fingers. The pearl rattled around inside its little cage. “We took a break from talking about Tartarus this week. Childhood stuff isn’t really fun either, but it was a relief to have some time away from the pit.” He was quiet for a minute, playing with the chain as he thought. “I haven’t told you a lot about that, have I? I don’t talk about it much, but...” Percy trailed off for a moment. “I wasn’t scared of him, not really. I hated him too much for that. But I felt weak and helpless around him. Have you ever felt like that? Can anything make a god feel helpless?”

Percy let the charm loosen and fall from his finger, then started wrapping it around another, letting his mind drift. He’d gotten used to asking his dad questions he knew he wouldn’t get answers to, just letting his thoughts spill out.

“I keep thinking I’ve moved on from it,” he told his dad. “But then it smacks me in the face again. Did I ever tell you that I resent having such a hot temper?” He let the chain unravel and started wrapping it the other way, turning his fingertips pink. “Raine’s been trying to help me respect it as a way of protecting myself from pain and trauma.” Percy paused without looking away from his fingers. “You have a pretty bad... quick temper in all the old stories, so the last couple years I just figured I got it from you. But you don’t really have a temper anymore, do you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you really mad. It makes me wonder when you learned that.”

Percy let the chain drop again, and then wrapped it around, still thinking.

“I haven’t told you much about what happened in Tartarus,” he said on impulse. He never felt like his dad was ignoring him, but at that he felt the weight of his father’s attention fall on him. It was comforting. “But at one point I kind of lost it. Annabeth and I met Akhlys, and she lured us into a trap.” He took a deep breath. “And I was so tired, Dad. Everything hurt so much. It was so hard to get to her, and then she turned on us.”

Percy lifted his head, raising his gaze to the window again. He watched the clear sky, where an owl circled over the parking lot.

“Of course she did,” Percy said softly. “The goddess of misery doesn’t want to help anybody. But I got so angry. Everything was so unfair. I tapped into power I didn’t even know I had – I don’t even know if I could do it again. I wouldn’t want to.” He wound the necklace the other way. “I didn’t want to kill her. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to be in as much pain as I was.” He exhaled. “Annabeth stopped me – I scared her, lashing out like that. Akhlys ran away. Hopefully I’ll never see her face again.” His fingers twitched, his expression darkening. “She better hope I never see her face again.”

Percy fell silent, watching the owl circle around. He suspected Athena was keeping an eye on her daughter.

“I feel like, out of anyone, you’re most likely to understand how I felt that day,” he said at last. “You’ve always been really protective of your children, right? And... I know you like me.” He set the pearl necklace down, letting the chain drizzle into a heap. “It wasn’t fun, feeling that way. But it could have been worse. I could have broken. It’s kind of a miracle that I didn’t – that neither of us did. I have a feeling even Dionysus couldn’t have fixed that.”

He thumbed the charm.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Percy decided, leaving the necklace on the desk. “Thanks for listening, Dad.”

It was a restless night’s sleep; the nightmares were back now that he’d taken the necklace off, shattering his rest into a dozen shards over the course of the night. But he was getting back to sleep. He woke up a lot, but he always got back to sleep.

Halfway through the night, he found a gift on his desk: a small abalone hoop, clearly an earring, with a note. For my bravest son.

The week before, Percy had told Poseidon he was thinking about getting his ear pierced. Though he was still shaky from his nightmare, he smiled, and tucked the gift carefully into a pocket of his duffel bag.

Chapter Text

“Hey, kid.”

Percy faltered in his conversation with Frank and Hazel, glancing warily up at Coach Hedge. Hedge jerked his head toward the woods.

“Let’s walk and talk,” he said.

Percy hesitated, but a nudge from Hazel had him getting up to follow Hedge. He stuck his hands in his pockets, feeling uncomfortable, but willing to hear Hedge out. Hedge waited until they were under the tree cover to talk.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t try to help you,” said Hedge, validating Percy’s trust immediately. Percy relaxed, a soft burst of relief cooling his nerves. Hedge didn’t look at him, but Percy thought he saw him relax a little too. “I wasn’t prepared to talk you off that ledge. I’ve never done that kind of thing before. But I’m an adult and I should’ve acted like one.”

Percy smiled at him. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “If it happens again, can you... let someone know I’m feeling bad, maybe? That’s really what I should’ve done, but I felt so bad by that point that I didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Hedge clapped Percy on the back, making him stumble and laugh. “Now that, I can do any day,” he chuckled, a hint of relief in his voice. Both of them were quiet for a minute, but it didn’t seem like Hedge was done, so Percy waited. “You know I do care about you, right?”

Percy exhaled, trying to decide how to answer that. Instinctively, he wanted to placate Coach Hedge and put the whole thing behind them, but... “I know you’re a good person and a good protector,” he said quietly, “and you feel responsible for me ‘cause of that. I don’t see why you’d care about me though. I’m just some kid.”

“Some kid?” Hedge scoffed without looking at him. “You’re the beating heart of the camp, Jackson. In all my years I’ve never seen the place so united, and that’s ‘cause of you. That’s ‘cause you care so damn much about everyone that they care about you too.” Heat crept across Percy’s face, and he felt breathless and lost for words. That was fine; Hedge wasn’t done, apparently. “I didn’t talk to you ‘cause I thought I was more likely to push you over the edge than pull you back. It was not because I didn’t give a shit.”

Percy kind of wanted to hug Hedge for that, but he had a feeling the satyr would never forgive him. “Thanks,” he said again, warmth spreading through his chest. “And I really do understand. I was hurt, but I was never mad at you.”

Hedge rolled his eyes. “You’re too understanding for your own good.”

Annabeth caught his eye when they arrived back, and he smiled at her. She relaxed, smiling briefly back, before she returned to her conversation with Piper. Percy settled back into place with Frank and Hazel, who both looked inquisitive. Percy smiled sheepishly.

“Uh, Coach and I had a personal issue last week,” he explained. “We just needed to talk it out a little.”

There was curiosity in Hazel’s eyes, but she was too nice to pry. “You were asking about therapy in New Rome, right?”

It took Percy a moment to remember, and then he nodded. “You and Frank have been doing that for the last month or so, right?” he asked. “How is it?”

Hazel glanced away and shrugged, and Frank grabbed her hand.

“Hazel’s still kind of getting used to the idea,” he explained. “New Rome puts a lot of its resources into our mental health services, because of the lives we lead, but it’s still considered kind of embarrassing. Reyna told me that she didn’t go because she was worried about losing face.”

Percy grimaced, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. The Romans weren’t exactly overflowing with open sympathy and compassion. “But it’s good?” he asked. Frank cocked his head. “Um, Raine and I have been talking long-term, and I’m probably going to need to get therapy from someone else when she’s on vacation. Going without might not be an option.” He shrugged. “I might talk to someone else here, but it’s good to have options.”

Understanding overtook the confusion, and Frank looked thoughtful. “It’s really good overall,” he said. “He’s been really good with helping me process everything that happened on the Argo, and we’re working on helping me communicate better in a leadership position.” He shrugged. “We haven’t talked about my personal history that much though.”

“I have,” Hazel said, without looking directly at either of them. “It’s been... slow, but she’s very patient with me.”

Percy didn’t know a lot about Hazel’s personal history, but he knew enough to give her a sympathetic look. “It’s hard, right?” he agreed. “Don’t worry too much. It’s easier to start with stuff you’re not too insecure about, and then if they handle it well, you feel safer tackling that stuff later.”

 “Like what?” Hazel asked, pinning him with a look that betrayed her lingering discomfort. Percy thought about it seriously, pulling up everything he knew about Hazel.

“One of the first things me and Raine talked about was how I felt about people calling me stupid all the time,” he said after a minute. “And she was able to make me feel better about it. That was really important to me, and it made it easier for me to trust her with other stuff. For you...” He trailed off for a moment, thinking. “You had a hard time at school in the forties, right? You could talk about that.”

Hazel’s brow creased, but after a moment, she nodded.

“I’ll try that,” she said. “Thanks.”

“What morons are calling you stupid?” Frank asked, looking offended. It filled Percy with affection and made the question easy to answer.

“It’s always been a big thing ‘cause of my dyslexia,” he explained. “I don’t really have the temperament to work through it like Annabeth does. And between that and all my emotional issues, my grades were always in the toilet, so I believed it.”

For a moment, Frank’s eyes shadowed with something between sadness and grim understanding. “You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” he told Percy. “You come up with things under pressure that I’m not sure I could plan in advance. You’re insane, but you’re brilliant.”

Percy beamed at him. “Thanks,” he said. “That means a lot to me.”

“Emotional issues?” Hazel asked with concern. “Was something happening? I’ve always pictured you as the sweetest little kid.”

As always, Percy faltered over the explanation, and he reached up to scratch his head self-consciously. “I was a maniac as a kid,” he informed her, and then amended awkwardly, “Um, I was being physically abused for most of my childhood, so my behavior was super erratic.”

“That actually explains so much about you,” Frank blurted out. Percy blinked at him, and Frank winced, looking sheepish. “Uh, I went through a couple years where I was super into family psychology.”

Percy laughed a little. “Yeah, Raine says I was such a textbook abuse case as a kid that it’s a wonder no one noticed,” he said. “I’m a lot better now, but most of my psychological issues still kind of fall along that track.”

Frank snapped in understanding. “That’s why you’re worried about taking months off therapy,” he said. Percy nodded. “Do you want me to look for someone in New Rome? You’re planning on going to university there, right?”

Percy seriously considered that. “If you don’t mind,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll need to do trauma therapy with them or anything, but someone that’s good with abuse recovery would be great. There’s a lot of interpersonal stuff that I still need help with sometimes.”

Frank’s mouth twitched. “Like asking for help when you need it?”

Percy snickered. “Yeah, you got it,” he said ruefully. “I’ve done, like, a lot of really intensive therapy around that by now, but it’s still kind of hard to figure out where to prioritize myself compared with my friends, or how far I can push myself before I’m being unreasonable. And that’s the kind of thing that I might need help with when Raine’s out of touch.”

“I’ll ask around,” Frank promised.

“It doesn’t bother you?” Hazel asked, shifting uncomfortably. “Don’t you want to just... be fixed?”

There was anxiety and uncertainty in her eyes that made Percy want to hug her.

“I do want to be fixed,” Percy said, keeping his voice sincere. “I’d really like that. I don’t want my brain to be broken anymore. But it wouldn’t happen that way.” He patted the grass. “I’m here so that I can get better. We’re working really hard to reorganize my head so I can think straight again. Going to therapy regularly when I’m at home, that’s to help me stay better. It’s like... maintenance. Once a week or so, I’ll call Raine, and we’ll give my brain a tune-up. And I think I’m alright with that.” He nudged her gently, trying to comfort her. “It’s okay. It’s just like a doctor appointment. It would be easier not to need it, but I do need it.”

Frank shifted to give Hazel a look of concern. “I thought you were doing alright with it,” he said. “Are you having trouble with your therapist?”

Hazel shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t like it, that’s all,” she said quietly. “Laying out everything for him to see like that... it’s embarrassing. It makes me feel bad. Can’t I stop feeling guilty without having to remember every time I’ve ever felt bad about something?”

“It’ll get easier,” Percy reassured her. “Don’t tell him anything you’re not comfortable with, that’s all. Once you trust that he can make you feel better about that stuff, and you’re not as worried about him judging you, that’s when you’re ready.”

Hazel sighed. “This is going to take a long time, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Percy said sympathetically. “If I wasn’t doing a three-month stint here, it would’ve taken me, like, years to get this far.”

Hazel glanced up. “Not worth it,” she said. “No offense.”

Percy snorted. “None taken. If I have to stay here a third time, I’m gonna lose it.” He loved St. Joan’s and all the people in it, but dedicating months of his life to nothing but therapy sucked. He wanted to go home.

“Oh, no,” Hazel said, which was when Percy realized his eyes were wet. He reached up to scrub at them with his palm.

“Ah, dammit,” he muttered. He rolled his shoulders, like that would shake off the sudden wave of homesickness. “Sorry. I wasn’t real psyched about being away from home. Again.”

Hazel hugged him. Percy hugged her back, greedily taking as much comfort from her as he could. When they pulled apart, his eyes were still wet, but he felt better. He smiled at her gratefully, rubbing his eyes.

“What are you gonna do when you get out?” Frank asked. Percy perked up and wiped the rest of his tears away.

“Montauk,” he said excitedly, and then clarified, “Mom was thinking we could invite some friends and spend a day at Montauk. I’d love it if you guys could come.”

“Definitely,” Frank said.

“We’ll make it happen,” Hazel agreed, giving Percy a small smile. He grinned back, pleased.

“After that...” He scratched his head, thinking. “I’ll probably spend a month or two just helping Mom and Paul get ready for the baby, and maybe join a basketball team and try to make some mortal friends. Just- socializing, you know? I’m not sure when I’m gonna start studying for my GED, but, uh, I think I’m gonna try and take my time.”

“I think we’ve all rushed enough for three lifetimes,” Frank said, making Percy laugh.

“It’s gonna be nice,” Percy said at last, softly. “A couple months from now, maybe I’ll be back on track. As long as...” He’d been too focused the last couple of weeks to worry about the gods, but suddenly he felt sick to his stomach.

“No god is going to make you do anything this year,” Frank said fiercely. “Not after everything we did for them. They can’t.”

Percy kind of felt like crying again, so he hugged Frank too.

When Percy saw Hermes, his knees nearly gave out from underneath him. He shook his head furiously.

“No no no no no, I say no,” Percy insisted, imagining awful scenarios of Underworld quests and the Mediterranean and the battles at camp. “I’m saying no, you can’t make me go, you can’t make me do anything.” There were tears in his eyes. He couldn’t figure out what to say to stop Hermes from asking anything of him.

“Whoa, kid.” Hermes spread his empty hands, trying to placate him. Percy hyperventilated. “I don’t have a quest for you, just a message.”

“I don’t want it,” Percy said.

“You will,” Hermes said. “It’s from Uncle P. He didn’t think a note would be enough this time.”

“...From Dad?”

“Only Uncle P I have,” Hermes said.

Percy tried to stop hyperventilating, but largely failed. He couldn’t take in enough air. Grasping his forearm, Raine helped him sit down on the grass.

“Safe place, Percy,” she murmured. “Think of Montauk. Sand, sweets, campfire smoke. Cuddling with your mother. The sound of waves.”

Percy closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He thought about cleaning out the cabin, and cuddling to watch a movie. He remembered his mom teaching him to build a sandcastle. He thought of her voice and her laugh. When he felt ready, he opened his eyes.

Hermes had been surprisingly patient. He was sitting down too, typing something on his caduceus-phone – replying to messages, Percy assumed. After a minute, he looked up, smiling like he was determined to be cheerful.

“Better?” he asked. Percy nodded. “That lady – the therapist, right?” Startled, Percy nodded again, and Hermes eyed Raine thoughtfully. Raine quickly looked down, hands clenching nervously around the hem of her shirt. “If she can get you back to a working condition, I’ll be impressed. When Heracles reached this point, we knew it was the end of the line for him.”

Percy blinked. “When Hercules reached this point?”

Hermes shrugged. “He wasn't the first hero to be taken by his demons, but he was the most famous. The nightmares, the rage, the guilt - he was struggling for years before he put on that centaur-blood coat. He could've taken the pain; he'd endured worse. But he'd had enough." Unspoken between them was the story of Hercules' death, when he'd set himself on fire to escape the pain of the poison.

Bitterness lit a candle in the pit of Percy’s stomach, but he tried to ignore it. “You have a message, right?”

Hermes snorted. “Always.” He put his phone away, ignoring the protests of George and Martha. “Your dad told the council that if you’re forced onto another quest, he’s taking it as a declaration of war by whoever assigns it. He wanted me to tell you that the gods owe you a debt, and there will be no more favors until that debt is paid.” He paused. “And after your reaction to seeing me, I think he’s right.”

Percy flushed, but couldn’t bring himself to feel truly embarrassed. Mostly, he felt touched. “I’ll thank him tonight,” Percy said quietly. The idea that his father was protecting him from the other gods was incredibly comforting, and he found that he believed that his father would follow through. “Was that all?”

Hermes studied him. “You kids really stepped up this summer.”

In an instant, soft gratitude was overtaken by white-hot rage. Percy clenched his fists and broke Hermes’ gaze to scowl at the ground.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

He could sense Hermes’ flash of irritation, but it passed surprisingly quickly. “I know, I know. We didn’t do great. We were... we were pretty bad.”

“Where were you?” Percy asked without looking at him.

“Trying to keep things under control,” Hermes said. “My Greek and Roman sides work together pretty well, fortunately, so I was keeping everything in working order while the others were out. Making sure the sun rose, seeing that Atlas was still holding the sky, things like that.”

“...Where was Dad?”

Hermes’ voice got a little gentler. “Uncle P was hit the worst out of all of us – except Athena, obviously. Poseidon and Neptune are like night and day, more so now than a couple thousand years ago. Most of the time, he was too disoriented to walk across a room.”

The explanation put a wide hollow in his Percy’s chest, but he had to admit it made sense, and it was better than thinking his dad just didn’t care enough.

“Did you know that you have a shrine in Tartarus?” he said instead. “Apparently it fell down there a few centuries ago.”

“Sure did,” Hermes said. “I might’ve moved it, if I wouldn’t’ve had to go to Tartarus for it. As it is, better to have it be desecrated than to set foot in that place.” He avoided Percy’s eyes when he said that. Oddly, that made Percy feel better too.

“It’s okay,” Percy said. “Monsters don’t go near it. Me ‘n Annabeth were able to rest there for a while, and eat, and send a message back to camp.”

“Good,” Hermes said without looking at him. “I’m glad I could be helpful to you, if only in a small way.”

A month ago, that would’ve made Percy angry too. Now, he was settled enough that he could appreciate Hermes’ sincerity for what it was. “Hermes? Why do gods have children?”

He could sense that the question startled Hermes, and it took the god a few minutes to answer. “It’s... hm. It’s a gesture of love.” Percy wrinkled his nose. “Not like that! Well, that too, I suppose.” Hermes chuckled ruefully, scratching his head. “But... a child is a creation that a god makes with a mortal. I suppose you could call it a show of favor. Uncle P loved your mother, and he wanted to make something that was a little bit of her, and a little bit of him, because he thought the result with be incredible.”

“Was that why you had Luke too?” The question was out before Percy could think better of it. He felt Hermes tense again, then relax.

“Yes,” Hermes said simply. “Before she was cursed, May Castellan was a bright and beautiful woman. She was insightful, relentless, and confident, and I wanted to have a child with her. I thought that the union would create something wonderful.”

There was still grief in Hermes’ voice, and Percy let the obvious go unsaid. “He could have been. He just lost track of what he really cared about.”

A pained smile flickered over Hermes’ mouth. “As always, Percy, you are a well of brutal honesty,” he said. “Ah- that reminds me. Hestia indicated you might have a message for me as well.”

Percy blinked at him, startled, and it took him a minute to make the month-old connection. His lips pressed together.

“I’m grateful that you kept your promise about claiming your children,” he said, soft and serious. Hermes waited expectantly. “That changed a lot, and it made all of the unclaimed campers really happy. But...”

“But?” Hermes arched an eyebrow.

“But everyone is scared and hurt,” Percy said quietly. “So much has happened in the last few years. They’re saying that the gods don’t care about them. That you won’t care if camp gets destroyed, and that you won’t do anything to protect us.” He dropped his gaze. "I was going to bring it up to Hestia. Someone needs to understand. But if she thinks you can make the other gods get it- I trust her, and I can trust you."

“Camp Half-Blood has protected itself from monsters for thousands of years,” Hermes pointed out.

“Yeah. Monsters.” Percy swallowed hard. “Two years ago, Kampê led an army of a hundred monsters straight into camp. Five of us died. Last year, it was thirteen of us. This summer, it was four.” He rubbed at his eyes, frustrated. “I know you care. Really. You’re good at that. But the campers... they’re scared. We’re dying. And most of them still haven’t ever met their parents.” He took a breath, held it, and let it out. “I know there’s not a lot you can do. But... we're demigods, living in a god's world fighting gods' battles, and that's not okay. Can you try and make the other gods understand that? Please?”

Hermes was silent for long enough to make Percy anxious. He could also hear George and Martha buzzing in Hermes’ pocket.

“Yes,” Hermes agreed at last. “I will try. And- here.” He rummaged around in his bag, and Percy straightened up, watching him curiously. Finally, Hermes pulled out two prisms. “For yourself and Annabeth. They will make a rainbow even without any light. And if you cannot reach Iris or Fleecy, you may also call for me.” He met Percy’s wide eyes evenly. “Your father is right. We owe you a debt.”

Percy could have hugged him. “Thank you,” he said, with more earnest sincerity than he’d thought he’d ever feel for a god again. Hermes just winked at him.

“Don’t lose them,” he said. He stood up and brushed himself off. “Now- I really must be going. Spent too long here already. The messages are starting to pile up.” He met Percy’s eyes. “Until next time, Percy Jackson.”

He started to glow, and Percy turned away, making sure Raine did as well. Raine was pale with shock, and Percy figured it’d take a few minutes for her to get her bearings.

“How are you feeling?” she asked at last.

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he admitted, smiling at her sheepishly. She chuckled.

“That’s certainly the closest encounter I’ve ever had with a god,” she said, “but it brings a sense of concrete reality to everything you’ve told me this year.” She met his eyes. “Now: how do you feel?”

Percy considered that, staring at the ground. The prisms were still cradled in his hands. “Good,” he decided. “That was... more like the encounters I had with gods before, not on this last awful quest.” He looked up, meeting Raine’s eyes. “Every god I met on Hera’s quest was just like her: selfish, spiteful, arrogant. But Hermes was exactly like I remembered him. Hermes makes time for us in a way that other gods don’t. I’d kind of forgotten what it felt like to face a god I respect.”

“You had a lot of questions for him,” Raine noted. Percy nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about them again,” he said. “Why do gods have so many children if they’re never around? Why did Dad let me go down there? What do I do if it really is just this from now on, if I get stuck bouncing between quests and therapy school forever?” He cleared his throat. “And, uh, I mentioned that to Dad last night. I guess he heard me.” The fact that it had bothered Poseidon enough for him to send Hermes both embarrassed and pleased Percy.

“How do you feel about your father’s threats?”

“I feel like I should be worried about it,” Percy admitted. “Because no one wants a war between the gods. That’d be bad. But... I’m happy that he’s trying to protect me. I, I want that right now, even still.”

Raine nodded in agreement. “What about the gods as a whole right now?”

Percy bit his lip, considering. “I’m not in as much pain anymore,” he decided at last, “and that’s making it easier for me to accept that they really were incapacitated, and that the only one who could’ve prevented that was fucking Hera. I’m... hoping that maybe if I give them a chance to show it, maybe more of them will be grateful for what we did. I’d feel a lot better if I knew they weren’t pretending it never happened.”

“Even with your reaction to seeing Hermes?”

Percy hesitated, then shrugged, grimacing. “I’d probably still react pretty badly if a god showed up here,” he said. “Gods almost always want something, and I still don’t trust them not to ask. I just... think that maybe it could also turn out alright. Maybe.”

Raine reached out and squeezed his hand. “That’s an important step,” she said. “You’re learning hope again.”

Percy smiled a little. “Yeah. I guess so.”

Chapter Text

It happened during one of the hot potato games, passing the ball around the room to strike unsuspecting patients. Percy remembered it; it wasn’t his favorite, but it wasn’t the worst either.

“Ah, heck,” he muttered, rolling the ball over in his hands. “Um, something that I struggle a lot with is planning for the future. All the uncertainty makes me nervous, so I end up just trying not to think about it. But, um, doing it with Mom or with a friend makes it easier.”

He glanced at Cassia, and she smiled at him, then pressed play. Percy tossed the ball along, relieved to be rid of it, and listened as it went around. Ruya was struggling with curbing her perfectionism. Lucy still had a lot of Catholic guilt. Nico was having a hard time accepting the losses he’d experienced.

In the middle of the fifth or sixth round, the song changed.

“I was tired of my lady-”

Percy heart sped up, and his mind flashed to Annabeth dragging him through the Doors, her grip on his arm, the thunderous beating heart of Tartarus. Vividly, he remembered that last glimpse of Bob, the Doors slamming shut between them. His heart pounded. He could taste sulfur in the air, see Damasen in the distance, locked in a losing battle, hear Tartarus bellowing in rage. Be strong. No more time. Twelve minutes, just twelve minutes, please-

“If you like pina coladas... and gettin’ caught in the rain...”

Somewhere in the middle of all that, Percy started sobbing, completely losing track of his surroundings as grief and despair swamped him in one great wave. They left them, they left Bob and Damasen to die. What kind of monster was he? Why hadn’t he tried harder to save them? Gods, Damasen barely knew them, they’d only met once- and everything he did to Bob- and Bob’s smile, Bob’s laugh lines, Damasen’s comfy house in the middle of hell, warmth and food and hope-

“I didn’t think about my lady... I know that sounds kinda mean...”

Percy keened, because it felt like the only thing that would keep him from splitting open. He couldn’t stop thinking about the Doors closing in front of him, cutting him off from Bob and Damasen.

“Percy, Percy, hey. Look at me. Percy? Can you see me?”

Two hands on his face dragged him out of the mire, cupping his cheeks. He moaned and tried halfheartedly to pull from the grip, but the person just pressed their thumbs gently into his face.

“Look at me, Percy. We’re with Cassia, remember? St. Joan’s. Um, in group, talking about- um, stuff.”

Percy hiccupped out another few sobs and a low moan of protest, but after a minute, he managed to open his eyes and focus on the person in front of him. It was Lucy, looking flustered and anxious, cupping his face. A few more sobs leaked out, completely uncontrollable, making his whole body tremble.

“There you are, look at me,” Lucy said quickly, dropping her hands from his face to holding his. “U-um, Violetta went to get Raine, she’ll be here really soon. Can- can you breathe with me? Um, like this?”

Lucy dragged his hand to her chest to try and demonstrate good breathing, but she was too nervous and he was too out of it. Instead, he just let his hand hang limply from hers and cried until his nose was stuffy and running.

“Turn it off,” he blubbered, when he realized that awful song was still playing. If you like pina coladas... and getting caught in the rain... “Turn it off, turn it off!”

Someone did, and he went back to crying. Trying to crawl out of the well of grief was pointless; everything was pointless. Percy deserved this pain, and an awful part of him basked in the suffering, hoping it would burn off his guilt.

After an eternity, Raine knelt in front of him, murmured something to Lucy, and took Lucy’s place. Then she pushed Fang into Percy’s arms, and he hugged it tightly. Raine rubbed something that smelled like the sea on his jaw, and he took a deep breath. Finally, she pulled his headphones over his ears, already playing Little Lion Man. Then she sat beside him, put an arm around him, and let him lean into her and cry, surrounding him with warmth.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Raine just hummed soothingly and held his hand, and soon his pleas trailed off. He kept crying, but the sobs slowed and faded, then the moans of pain. The whimpers took longer to subside, but Raine rubbed his back gently, and eventually they stopped too.

She pressed a tissue into his hand, and he blew his nose. He wiped at it a little more, wincing. He felt shaky, weak, and exhausted; it had been weeks, maybe even months since a trigger had hit him this hard. Awareness came back slowly. When he felt ready, he reached up to dislodge his headphones, dropping them around his neck.

“Stupid song,” he mumbled.

“Better?” Raine prompted softly. Percy sniffled again.

“No,” he said petulantly, without moving away from her. He hiccupped and hugged Fang harder. “We left them. We just left them.”

Raine made a soft sound of comprehension. “Bob and Damasen,” she murmured. Percy whined. “Shh. It’s okay. You’re alright. You did exactly what they wanted. They’d be so proud of you. They’d be so happy to see you succeed.”

Percy clung onto that reassurance, and managed to slow his breathing down until it wasn’t so heavy. Eventually, still clinging on to Raine, he looked around. Nearly everyone had left the room; besides him and Raine, there was only Annabeth and Mai in the opposite corner, Mai speaking in a low, calm tone while Annabeth tried to stop hyperventilating.

“W’happened?” he mumbled. All he could replay from the last few minutes were his own fever-pitch feelings. Everything else was muddled and indistinct.

“Something triggered you and Annabeth,” Raine said softly. “The song that was playing, it seems. Lucy and Cassia both tried to help you stabilize until Mai and I could get here.” She squeezed his hand. “They moved to the mess hall to debrief. They’ll be talking about what happened just now and how they feel about it. You don’t need to worry about them.”

That eased Percy’s mind a little, but he still felt terribly fragile. “Is Annabeth okay?”

“Mai is taking care of her,” Raine reminded him. Percy hiccupped and wiped his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad,” Percy croaked, curling around his knees like he could shield his bruised heart. After a minute, he elaborated, “I feel like... like we just dragged ourselves out of the elevator. Exhausted and sore and sad.” He heard Annabeth choke on a sob. “It hurts. Why does it still hurt so much?”

“Some triggers can make grief and trauma feel fresh,” Raine murmured. “But you’re going to be okay. This pain will pass.”

Percy nodded jerkily without looking up. He took a few more careful, deep breaths, and then said, “Um. I don’t think that round of trauma therapy stuck.”

Raine’s mouth twitched. “No,” she agreed. “We’ll address it again with a different approach. I did say I put some aside just in case.”

“Okay,” Percy sighed. Raine seemed to understand.

“Art house?” she asked. “Or do you want to go straight to your room?”

Percy started to answer, then paused and gave Annabeth a longing look. She was starting to calm down, her breath evening out, but her face was still splotchy and wet. “Can Annabeth and I take a nap together in here?”

“If that’s what you both want.”

“This might seem a little silly, but the evidence in its favor is very compelling,” Raine said, once Percy had settled in his chair. “It’s called EMDR, Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. It's meant to help you process the memory similarly to how you would while dreaming, but in a more controlled manner."

"Okay..." Percy said, tilting his head. “What’s the silly part?”

“We’ll talk about the memory as normal, and in between, I’ll ask you to follow my hand back and forth with your eyes,” Raine explained. “It mimics the movements your eyes make during REM sleep.” Percy frowned at her. “The phase of sleep where dreams occur.”

It did sound kind of weird, but so had a lot of things they’d done. Percy shrugged. “Sure. Let’s go for it.”

Raine smiled at him, then went to business. “I want you to think of your escape from Tartarus. What is the worst image you remember from that scene?”

Percy stiffened, started to stand, and faltered. “Um, can I hold Fang during this?”

“Absolutely.”

Percy got up, grabbed Fang, and sat back down, squishing the stuffed toy between his belly and the chair back. He immediately felt better.

“It was that last glimpse before the Doors closed,” he said, voice wavering despite his best efforts. “Bob looked so happy. He winked at Annabeth right before they shut.”

“Can you tell me if there are any beliefs about yourself associated with that image?” Raine asked, soft and patient. Percy swallowed.

“I’m a horrible person,” he said without hesitation.

“Can you think of a positive counter to that?”

“I’m... a good person, I guess,” he said hollowly. With that image so stark in his mind, it was hard to even say the words.

“Can you think of something more specific to the memory?” Raine pressed patiently. Percy bit his lip.

“It was okay for us to leave without them,” he said. It sounded even more hollow than the first claim.

“On a scale of one to seven, with one being completely untrue and seven being completely true, how true do those words – it was okay for us to leave without them – feel to you right now?”

“One,” Percy admitted. He hadn’t realized it before, but that image, Bob disappearing behind the closing doors, left a horrible, sucking void in his chest.

“What emotions do you associate with the belief ‘I’m a horrible person?’”

Percy shrugged. “Guilt. Shame. Hopelessness.”

“On a scale of one to ten, with one being none and ten being the most possible, how much distress do those emotions give you here?”

Percy didn’t even entertain the alternatives. “Ten.”

“Where are you carrying these emotions in your body?”

“...My chest,” he decided. Raine nodded.

“Hold those things in your mind,” she said. “That image, the thought ‘I am a horrible person,’ and the sensations in your chest. Now follow my fingers.”

It did seem kind of silly. For almost a minute, Raine moved her fingers rapidly back and forth in front of Percy’s eyes, like she was checking him for a concussion. He followed them, obediently tracking the movements with only his eyes.

“What are you thinking now?” Raine asked. Percy flushed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I got distracted thinking about how this is kind of funny.”

Luckily, Raine looked more amused than anything. “That’s fine. Think of those images again – the Doors closing, the thought ‘I am a horrible person,’ and the sensations in your chest. Follow my fingers.”

Percy managed to focus this time, and followed her fingers as they moved rapidly back and forth. It went on for a while, and his mind soon wandered again, but in the right direction this time. When Raine asked the question again, he was ready for it.

“The Doors shut while he was still talking,” he said, fixating on that image. “I’ll never know what he was going to say.”

Raine nodded, and then repeated the movements. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“What came up?” she asked.

“I didn’t want to leave them,” Percy said, voice shaky and strained. “Annabeth had to drag me into the elevator. All I could think about on the way up was how Bob and Damasen were fighting and dying while we abandoned them.”

“What would you have done instead?”

“We could have stayed,” Percy said helplessly. “We could have fought and died beside them, and it would have been fair.”

“Think about that,” Raine said, and repeated the movements. Percy swallowed, eyes darting back and forth to follow them.

“But they didn’t want that,” Percy said. “They didn’t want us to die beside them. They... they would have seen it as a waste. They both worked really hard to get us there, and they were determined to see it through.”

Raine repeated the movements.

“Bob was smiling,” Percy recalled. “I don’t really understand why. He knew he’d be lucky to survive the next twelve minutes, but he was happy.”

Raine repeated the movements. Left, right, left, right, left, right.

“He deserved to live,” Percy said, and had to wipe his eyes. “He would have lived, if he hadn’t come to save us. He wouldn’t have even been in Tartarus if not for us. It’s... it’s my fault that he died.”

“Why was it your fault?” Raine asked.

“I said his name, and he heard me,” Percy said, clasping his knees tightly. “He jumped into the pit to come help us. He... he didn’t have to do that.”

“Think about that,” Raine instructed softly. “Think about why he might have done that.”

She repeated the movements.

“He was happy for us,” Percy said, mind a thousand miles away now. “He... he really did want us to be free. There wasn’t even a debate about who would push the button. He just decided that he would.”

Raine repeated the movements.

“Why was he so kind to us?” Percy wondered aloud, dropping his chin onto Fang’s snout. “He barely knew us, and all he really knew was that I’d ruined his life and his identity. But he did so much for us. Leading us to the Doors, to Akhlys, to Hermes’ shrine. That... it was Bob that led us there, and we were able to sleep, a-and eat. The offerings the kids at camp burned for Hermes appeared in the shrine.”

“Do you think he got to know you better while you traveled?” Raine asked. Percy swallowed.

“I... guess,” he said. “I mean – that’s more or less how Thalia and I became friends, was fighting together. And there were a lot of little moments where we helped him decide what he wanted to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was having trouble reconciling Bob with Iapetus,” Percy said. “Existential stuff, you know? Who he really was, what he wanted to do. I remember, he... started to remember things, toward the end, when we started running into other titans. He couldn’t decide if he still wanted to be Iapetus. A-and I wasn’t really sure how to help him, but I told him... he could choose, if he wanted.”

“Think about that.” Raine repeated the movements.

“He did choose,” Percy said. “At the very end. Tartarus was able to dissolve Hyperion and Krios instantly, but he couldn’t do that with Bob. Bob... Bob said that he was more than Iapetus. He was Bob.”

“Think about why he may have made that choice,” Raine said, and repeated the movements. “What do you think?”

“I think... maybe he didn’t like who he’d been as Iapetus,” Percy said slowly. “Everything I’ve heard about him from back then was really violent. Iapetus the impaler. But as soon as he lost his memory, he was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. The very first thing he did was heal my shoulder.”

“What does that tell you?”

“He’d been Bob for a year or two by then,” Percy said. “I guess... that side of him had time to take root. And he decided that he preferred it.”

“Do you think you had a role in that?”

“I... yeah. I guess we did.”

Raine repeated the movements. “What are you thinking about now?”

“Damasen was kind of like that too,” Percy said. “I mean, he was always peaceful, we didn’t have anything to do with that. But Damasen was resigned to spending the rest of his immortal life in Tartarus, like he had for thousands of years already. And Annabeth encouraged him to come with us. To fight with us and get out.” He swallowed. “Uh, this was before we knew about the button.”

“And you think that was meaningful to him?”

“Yeah,” Percy said softly. “At least, that was what he said when he came, was that Annabeth was right and he was done being idle.” He rubbed his arm. “He must have known about the Doors, and the monster army there. He must have known we’d need more help to get through.”

“Think about that.” Raine repeated the movements.

“They were both so kind,” Percy said. “It’s so unfair that they couldn’t escape too. They deserved to come back with us.”

Raine repeated the movements.

“I’m so grateful for what they did,” he said, emotion welling up in his voice again. “I don’t completely understand what we meant to them, but they really wanted us to go free. And we did. We did.”

“What do you think they would say to you now?”

“I think... they would say thank you,” Percy said softly. “They... both of them seemed so sure of themselves at the end. They’d changed after meeting us, and they liked the change. At least, I think they were grateful for it.”

Raine repeated the movements.

“We didn’t ask them to die for us,” he said. “I don’t think we could have, to be honest. Maybe... maybe that’s part of why. Because they knew we’d never ask.”

Raine repeated the movements.

“I feel... better?” Percy said, confused by his own relief. “I feel better. What the hell?”

Raine smiled at him. “That was more or less the reaction in most of the case studies I looked through,” she said. “Take the image from the beginning. What do you think of it now?”

Warily, Percy cast his mind back to the image of the Doors closing in front of Bob. His heart stuttered, but didn’t stop.

“It still hurts,” he decided. “But... it’s more like a three than a ten.”

“And the statement ‘it was okay for us to leave without them?’”

“I believe it now,” he said. “It was what they wanted. Bob was so happy to see us go.” He met Raine’s eyes. “That was why he was smiling. He was proud of himself, and of us, for- for getting so far. For succeeding.”

Raine nodded, looking pleased. “Can you tell me what affected you so badly?” she asked. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned any triggers quite that strong before.”

“Huh?” Percy cast his mind back to the evening before, then covered his face and groaned loudly. “Ugh, that’s the stupidest trigger in the world!”

“I’ve never seen you triggered that badly,” Raine pointed out quietly. “Whatever it was, it’s rooted in one of the most harrowing experiences of your life.”

Percy slouched forward miserably. “It was that stupid Pina Colada song,” he said. Raine blinked, then flipped back in her notebook, frowning. Percy dropped his forehead against Fang. “It’s just- that song was the first one that played in the Doors of Death, and it’s the only one I remember. And there was nothing for us to do but keep the Doors closed and listen to it. I fucking hated that song by the time we reached the surface.” He shifted his head to look at her. “This is humiliating. I can’t start sobbing hysterically every time the fucking Pina Colada song comes on. How do I get rid of it?”

Raine’s expression shuttered into something more solemn. “You listened to that entire song, waiting to see if you would survive the journey, immediately after escaping days of agony and losing two treasured friends. You may never be able to comfortably listen to that song.”

“I’m not gonna have a choice!” Percy protested, covering his face. “It’s a fun song! People play it all the time!”

“We can work on some desensitization,” Raine promised, brows creased with concern. “But I’m afraid that you may have to put yourself out in these cases. It’s true that it’s a very popular song, but it is devastating to you. It would be completely unacceptable for anyone to insist on playing it around you.”

“I hate this,” Percy whined. “This sucks.”

“I know,” Raine agreed patiently. “It’s okay. You’ll get better at it.”

Chapter Text

Halfway through the session, Percy dropped his cheek into his hand and sighed. He stared down at the Mouse Trap board, felt his breath hitch, and reached up to wipe his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“Percy? Do you need a break?”

Raine looked concerned. Feeling too depressed to put up a fight, Percy rubbed his eyes again and nodded, and Raine instantly went to turn off the music – a loop of the Pina Colada song on a low volume.

“Can you tell me what you’re thinking?” Raine prompted quietly.

Percy didn’t look at her, but after a moment, he spoke, voice hollow. “I want to go home.”

“Oh.” He heard a scrape of chair legs before Raine grabbed his hand to hold. “Three more weeks. You’ll be able to go home in three more weeks.”

That wasn’t what Percy wanted to hear. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath, trying to force his body to calm down before he actually started crying. He wiped his eyes again. For a couple of minutes, he breathed along to Raine’s count, but it didn’t get any easier.

Finally, Raine murmured to him, “I think you need to cry this one out. It’s okay. You can do that.”

Raine was holding his right hand. He hid his face against his left, feeling more defeated than relieved, and cried quietly until the tears stopped coming. Raine stayed quiet, one hand resting on his back and the other holding his.

“S’rry,” he mumbled, when his voice worked again. “’M acting like a homesick little kid.”

“You are a homesick child,” Raine pointed out quietly, without moving away. “Are you alright? Do you want to call your mom?”

Percy shook his head. He didn’t want his mom; he’d been seeing her pretty often, and her absence didn’t hurt right now. He just wanted to go home.

“S’rry,” he said into his arm. “’M supposed to not be sad.” That was literally his only task in individual therapy today, was to not be sad.

“It’s alright,” Raine soothed. “I should have stopped the exercise when I realized your mood was getting low.”

Percy turned his head to give her a sullen scowl. “’M not sad because of the stupid music,” he snapped. “I just wanna go home.” Raine hummed and nodded patiently. He turned his face away, feeling resentment start to crowd out the sadness. “Why can’t I go home again?”

“Because your condition is still delicate,” Raine reminded him calmly. “You spiral easily and struggle to calm down by yourself. You might not be safe if something sets you off at home.” Percy groaned loudly and buried his face in his elbow. “I know. It’s frustrating. You’re under a lot of stress, and you want to be where you feel comfortable and happy. I understand.”

“I can’t live like this,” Percy said without looking up, voice cracking subtly. “I can’t live in and out of a freaking mental asylum.”

“You won’t,” Raine said. “What happened this time was a once-in-a-lifetime misfortune, and it won’t happen again. This is not a pattern. It is a terrible coincidence.”

“You don’t know that,” Percy snapped.

“No, I don’t,” Raine admitted. “But I believe it. Many things had to come to fruition to create your last quest, and none of them are repeatable. There is no part of me that believes those stars could align again.”

That, finally, was comforting, and Percy’s breath slowed down as some of the tension disappeared.

“Can we go outside?” he asked. “I don’t wanna do desensitization anymore.”

“Of course,” Raine agreed instantly.

Percy caught a glimpse of Nico and Eddie disappearing into the woods, so he turned to the food garden instead, letting his feet follow the path.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Raine asked. Percy sighed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was feeling really homesick last night and I was still kind of off this morning. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“It’s alright, I should have asked,” Raine reassured him. “Have you been feeling homesick a lot?” Percy looked away and nodded. “Then let’s wait until you’re home to do any more desensitization. The idea is to teach you to maintain a good mood in spite of the trigger. Maybe we could even bring your parents into it.”

Percy couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved. “Okay. What do we do now?”

“Let’s just walk for a bit.”

They made their way down the path. In the dead of winter, most of the garden beds were empty and resting. Many of the leaves and stems still there were crusted with ice.

“It seemed like you’re starting to resent your time here,” Raine said at last. Percy winced.

“Sorry,” he said again. “I know it’s for my own good and stuff.”

“No, no, I understand,” Raine reassured him. “But I do think we should talk about it. What is it that’s bothering you about being here?”

Percy exhaled, trying to pin it down. “It’s starting to feel like a boarding school,” he admitted. “In the last year, I’ve been home... eight weeks? Ten? That sucks. And for most of that, I was completely out of it. I haven’t cooked with my mom in a year and a half. I miss Paul taking me out for weird bonding trips.” He rubbed his face. “I mean- they’re here every weekend. I don’t miss them. But I miss being around them. And... I’m tired of waiting until I can go home.”

“I see,” Raine said softly. “Can you tell me why this feels like waiting to you?”

Percy hugged himself, feeling self-conscious and frustrated. “Everything’s on hold until I go home,” he said. “All of the- the visits to camp, and hanging out with Rachel, and helping my parents put the nursery together and even really looking into all the GED and diving and basketball team stuff... none of it can happen until I go home.” He refused to look at her. “I mean- I know this is important, and I really, really appreciate it. But I want my life back.”

“I understand,” Raine said again. “You’ve spent a lot of time away from home, and your home is very important to you. Would you like to make a list of things you want to do when you go home, maybe start bringing them up to your mother?”

Percy sighed. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Do you not like the idea?” Raine asked. Percy shrugged and shook his head.

“It’s not that,” he said. “The idea’s... fine. I’m just really frustrated with the therapy process today. I’m sad that I have to spend three months learning how to be okay, and I’m angry that this last quest undid all of the work we did doing this last year.” He looked away. “I was so proud of myself, and I didn’t even have time to enjoy it before I was back where I started. Worse than where I started.”

His breath was speeding up again, becoming harsh despite his best efforts.

Raine nodded. “Healing is a lot of work,” she agreed, voice gentle. “And it’s unfair that you didn’t get to enjoy feeling healthy and good about yourself before you were traumatized again. It’s absolutely fine for you to feel frustrated and even bitter about that.” She met his eyes. “But you will get that time. You’re making amazing progress, and you’ve more than earned your right to feel safe and happy.”

Percy managed a smile. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know I’ll get there. I’m just sad today.”

Raine nodded. “Would you like to go back and finish our game?” she asked. “You could put on your comfort playlist and we can take a break for the rest of the session.”

“...Yeah,” he decided. “That sounds good.”

“That’s amore,” Nico told Percy, when they ran into each other just outside the woods.

Percy slowed and stopped, jog forgotten, and gave him a blank look. Nico looked away.

“That’s Amore,” Nico repeated. “Dean Martin. That was the song that was playing when I got into the elevator. Then American Pie. I remember being weirded out by how long it was.”

It only took a moment for Percy to understand, and then he felt grateful. “That sucks,” he said. “American Pie is a good song.”

Nico snorted and sat down just inside the tree line. Percy joined him, curious despite himself. Nico was getting more social, but he still didn’t initiate conversation often, and they hadn’t talked about Tartarus at all.

“I didn’t run into any of the gods that live in Tartarus,” Nico said at last, unprompted. Percy hummed to show he was listening, and Nico kept studying one of the undergrowth plants. “Most of the time I stayed hidden – the shadows protected me from the regular monsters, and I was just trying to find my way to the Heart.”

Nico grabbed a leaf and tore it up with more concentration than necessary. Percy searched for something to say. “How did you- uh, the air?”

“Shadows,” Nico repeated. “I figured out pretty quick that if I focused hard enough, I could sort of melt into them, and I wasn’t tangible enough for the sulfur to hurt. It’s bad for me, though. You and Annabeth- the Phlegethon, right? I didn’t think of that ‘til after I was out.”

Percy smiled wearily. “Annabeth is a miracle,” he said. “Weren’t for her, I probably would’ve just died in the Cocytus.”

Nico muttered a filthy curse. “Must’ve felt like liquid suicide,” he said.

“Yeah,” Percy agreed. “Annabeth says I made a joke while we were in there, but I don’t remember it.”

Nico snorted. “Sounds like you.” He was quiet for another minute. “Most of what I saw was what the monsters did to each other. Around the caves and fields and stuff. You know what I mean?”

The memory came instantly and without warning, and Percy winced. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Sorry,” Nico said. Percy shook his head.

“We weren’t by the caves too long,” he said. “You got to the heart that way? Must’ve been like walking through a slasher film.”

Nico nodded. “I can’t unsee the things I saw there,” he said. “Reminded me of the battle for Olympus.”

Percy’s chest tightened and, unbidden, he remembered seeing a camper getting dragged away by a hellhound, struggling and screaming. “That’s enough,” he said sharply, fists clenching and flexing. “Let’s... let’s not go there, okay?”

“Sorry,” Nico said. “You good?”

“I think so.” Percy closed his eyes and counted out three deep, slow breaths. With effort, he stopped trying to remember the kid’s name. “I- yeah, I’m good.”  He opened his eyes again and forced himself to relax, slow and methodical, tensing and releasing. “Did Eddie ask you to do this, or did you just feel like it?”

Nico shrugged. “We hadn’t talked about it yet,” he said. “That didn’t feel right.”

“I get that,” Percy agreed.

“About Bob,” Nico said suddenly, which made Percy tense again. “I found out by accident that he knew a lot about Tartarus. I asked him a lot about it last year, and he didn’t seem to mind telling me. I was curious.” He played with a fern. “That was how I figured out that the Doors of Death might be down there, and... why I thought I could handle it.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Percy admitted. “To be honest, I think me and Annabeth were too freaked out to wonder how Bob remembered anything about the place. Did he tell you about the Hermes shrine?”

Nico cracked a smile. “Yeah. I thought it was funny.”

Percy laughed. “It kind of is, isn’t it?” He sighed, leaning back on the tree. It was surprisingly comfortable, bringing up those memories with Nico. The weight of the trauma wasn’t quite there. “Did you end up doing play therapy? I don’t really know how you’ve been processing things.”

“Some,” Nico said. “Not for trauma therapy, that didn’t really work out. But it’s been a really good way of addressing emotional needs I don’t understand, which is all of them.” Percy snorted, not expecting that. Nico smiled briefly and shrugged. “Feeling safe, working through internal conflict, figuring out relationships... we’ve done a lot with that stuff. I... I think I might tell him soon.” Percy gave him a surprised but pleased look. Nico ducked his head. “I mean, I don’t know what he thinks of that stuff. But maybe he could help me figure out how to deal with it.”

Percy had to search for something to say again. “You want me to ask Raine?” he offered. “I think she could find out without setting off any alarms, and I don’t have to tell her why I’m asking.”

“...Yeah,” Nico decided. “Thanks.”

“You told me that some of your nightmares would make me mad,” Annabeth said suddenly, startling Percy enough to jostle her. She pulled back enough to meet his eyes, but they were still pressed together from knee to shoulder. “What are they?”

Percy winced, looking away. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he mumbled.

“I want to know,” Annabeth said. “It’s bothering you. And you thought I was having nightmares about you hurting me. If you can deal with that, I can be kind about whatever you’re dreaming about.”

Percy’s heart softened, but he still felt wary. He hid his face in her hair. “It’s...” He stopped himself, and Annabeth read his mind.

“It’s not stupid, or heartless, or unjustified or any of that,” she said firmly. “You can tell me, okay? I won’t get mad at you. I promise.”

Percy decided to believe her, and he sighed against her hair without pulling away. “They’ve slowed down a lot,” he said at last. Annabeth shifted around to grab his hand. “But I... I was having nightmares about Bob. About him leaving us in Tartarus. Sometimes I beg him not to go.”

Annabeth exhaled softly. “Why would I get mad at you about that?” she asked.

“Bob saved us,” Percy said. “He died for us. I should have- I felt like I should have forgiven him for everything after that. And, um, I was scared that you would think that too.”

“Nightmares don’t work like that, Percy,” Annabeth said, and squeezed his hand. Then, quietly, she admitted, “I’ve had those nightmares too. Not a lot of them. But some.”

It shouldn’t have been such an enormous relief, but it was. “Raine thinks that whole thing hardwired my guilt and fear responses together. Isn’t that fun?”

Annabeth snorted. “Yeah, that’s exactly what you need.” She sighed, setting her head on his shoulder again. “I miss him. I miss both of them.”

“Me too,” Percy admitted. “I keep wishing that I could introduce them to people. Show them things.”

“Would you have introduced them to your mom?” Annabeth asked, a teasing lilt to her voice. Percy grinned.

“Of course I would,” he said. “And the first thing I’d do is tell her how they’d helped us, so I’m pretty sure Mom would’ve hugged them and started crying.” Annabeth giggled. “Yeah. The look on their faces would’ve been really funny.”

His heart hurt, and it wasn’t really a surprise when he felt tears start soaking into his shirt. He hugged Annabeth.

“Everything is so unfair,” she mumbled.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah... this was a really bad quest, wasn’t it?”

“What’s a good one?” Annabeth asked bitterly.

Percy nipped her ear gently, smiling when it made her squeak. “You know what I mean. Something about this quest... it was almost cursed.” Something occurred to him. “We’ll never have another one like it.”

“Sounds like tempting the Fates,” Annabeth said. Percy ran his fingers through her hair, untangling it in little tugs.

“So many things had to happen to make that quest,” Percy told her, echoing Raine’s words from earlier that day. “Once-in-an-era stuff. Once-ever stuff. Think about it. The collision of the camps, the Athena Parthenos, Gaia and the giants... how many of those things can happen again?”

“The Doors could still be chained down,” Annabeth said.

“Yeah,” Percy agreed, chest tightening at the thought. “And if they do, I’m marching into Olympus and holding my sword to Zeus’ throat until he agrees to handle it himself.”

Annabeth smiled wearily and tucked her head under his chin. “I wish it were that easy. Gods don’t like to hear the word ‘no.’”

“They’ll have to get used to it,” Percy said. “I’m tired of going on quests. I want to stay home for a while.”

Something of his homesickness must have come through his voice, because Annabeth picked it up instantly. “You’re missing home, huh?”

He set his cheek against her. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It feels like it’s been years. I get that recovery takes time and stuff, but gods, I want to go home. I haven’t been able to think of anything else all day.”

“Mama’s boy,” Annabeth teased, but she rolled over to hold his hand again. “You’re almost there. Imagine how good it’s going to feel when you’re finally home again, minus the flashbacks and the nightmares. You can be happy this time.”

He gave her a pleased, affectionate smile, gratitude blooming as he thought about it. “You’re right. I’ll be able to really enjoy it this time, huh?”

“So much,” Annabeth agreed, squeezing his hand. “Can I do anything to make it easier for you?”

“I love you,” he said without thinking, kissing her hair. “Maybe I’ll ask Mom to bring a calendar. When I started going to boarding school, I’d cross off the days until I could go home. And it’s not that long this time.” He thought of something and perked up. “Maybe we can have a weekend at Montauk too. Do you think that’s too much?”

“I think your mom will give you anything you ask for right now,” Annabeth said. There was a sadness in her smile this time, and Percy hugged her.

“You and your dad will figure it out,” he said. “You both want to so bad.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said. “I hope that’s enough.”

Chapter Text

Percy didn’t notice Grover until he started muttering a prayer to Artemis, voice tight with terror. Without thinking, Percy grabbed his hand too, leaving him in between Grover and Annabeth.

“It’s okay,” he murmured to Grover. “We’re almost there.”

Grover’s hand tightened around his. Percy didn’t know if that meant he was comforted or not.

“Almost there,” Bob echoed, nudging through the crowds of monsters. Annabeth’s hand tightened too, but when Percy looked at her, her face was set with determination.

Percy’s heart fluttered nervously. He could hear the thunderous heartbeat of Tartarus all around him, and monsters milled about and cackled like arai. He focused on Small Bob, draped lazily over Bob’s shoulder.

The Doors appeared all at once as they broke out of the crowd. Percy couldn’t take his eyes off the things, transfixed by a mixture of hope and fear.

“One of us will need to hold the button so the others can escape,” Bob said calmly. “It will take twelve minutes. Make it count.”

“What?” Percy twisted to look at Bob, crouched behind him, and something clicked around his ankle. He looked down and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. “No- no, Bob, please-”

“I’m sorry,” Bob said. “You don’t deserve to leave.”

“Please!” Percy repeated desperately. He yanked at his foot, but he was shackled firmly to the frame, and all he did was make himself fall over. He kicked and struggled, going blind with terror. “Bob, I’m sorry, please don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me here!”

Bob didn’t look back. Grover dropped down beside him and patted at his bound ankle, but Annabeth gave him a mournful look, shook her head, and stepped into the elevator. Percy screamed, shrill with terror, and flipped over to push desperately against the ground, yanking hard enough at his foot to break his ankle.

“Stop- Percy, stop,” Grover said, high and tense, “no one’s leaving you here, I promise, no one’s leaving- hold still-”

Percy sobbed and kicked one last time before falling limp, and he just cried while Grover examined his ankle. Something clicked, and Percy jumped when the shackle fell off. Grover grabbed his hand and dragged him to his feet.

“Let’s go,” Grover said, pale but brave. Percy looked back at the button. “For the love- there’s a button inside, Percy, okay? We can push the inside button.”

The inside button. Okay. That made sense. Percy yanked Grover toward the Doors. Then he slammed the up button and collapsed against the wall. Waves of emotion threatened to drown him in remembered despair and fear and guilt. He tried not to sob outright, but couldn’t stop the tears running down his face.

Finally, he gathered himself enough to look up at Grover.

“This is a dream,” Percy said.

Surprise flashed across Grover’s face, and he sat next to Percy and grabbed his hand again, holding it tightly. “Yeah. Pretty rough one.”

“Sorry,” Percy said.

Grover shrugged, though he still looked pale. “I knew what I was signing up for, more or less. Are... are you okay?”

“No.” Percy pressed closer, and Grover took the cue and put an arm around him, letting Percy lean against him and shiver. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at me. Don’t leave me here.”

“Still kind of out of it, huh?” Grover mused. “I’m not going anywhere, Perce. Not as long as you need me.”

“I need you,” Percy blurted out. “Please. I need you. I’m sorry for giving you nightmares.”

“Shit, Perce.” Grover pushed him, and Percy went with it, startled to end up with his head in Grover’s lap. Grover threaded his fingers through Percy’s hair, and Percy went limp; the gentle, calm touch was so far away from Tartarus that it soothed him instantly. “You know I’ll follow you anywhere. You’re my best friend.”

Shakily, Percy smiled at him.

“You’re the best best friend I could ask for,” he said.

Unfortunately, the calm didn’t follow Percy back to the waking world.  Percy woke up wheezing, all of his muscles feeling shaky and weak, and turned over to bury his face against Fang and try to catch his breath.

Carefully, he built Montauk up in his mind. The sound of wind and waves. The smell of burning sugar. Sand in his mouth. The bag of candy, lying open between him and his mom, and Paul laughing at something Percy said. His mom kissing his temple, and the sound of the highway nearby. Comfort and safety. No sulfur, no elevator, no monsters. Just wading into the sea and waving to the nereids.

As per protocol, Cassia came looking for him when he didn’t get up for breakfast; she was the only one with the master key. She grabbed his hand and sat on the floor beside his bed, and he let her, rolling over to meet her eyes.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Cassia asked quietly. “Lucy says you didn’t sleep well.”

Shit. He must have screamed for real too. “Sorry. I had a nightmare. I... I don’t feel good.” And this was the second time he hadn’t been able to get out of bed without encouragement. How embarrassing.

“Do you feel unsafe?” Cassia asked, unwaveringly patient. Percy nodded. “Do you know what would make you feel safer?”

“I don’t know,” Percy mumbled. He reached up and pulled at his hair, feeling tense and shaky. “I want to get this idea out of my head. I want to stop being scared that my friends want to hurt me.”

“Have you and Raine worked on building a routine to help you stop spiraling?” Cassia asked.

Percy shook his head. “We’ve been doing other stuff.”

“I’ll suggest it to her,” Cassia said, without getting up. “Right now, I want you to repeat after me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“My friends love me,” Cassia said. Percy took a deep, slow breath, then let it out.

“My friends love me,” he echoed, softening despite himself. Cassia smiled at him.

“My friends want me to be safe and happy,” Cassia said.

“My friends want me to be safe and happy,” Percy agreed, trying to make himself relax.

“I am kind to my friends, and my friends are kind to me.”

“I am kind to my friends, and my friends are kind to me.” Percy’s fingers twitched anxiously, and Cassia squeezed his hand in reassurance. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“I believe that my friends are sincere in their love, because I am sincere in mine.”

Cassia took him through a few more repetitions of things to that effect, and while it didn’t completely soothe Percy’s anxiety, it did dampen it. He reminded himself to trust his friends. They weren’t mad at him, and even if they were, they would never do anything to hurt him. Annabeth would never. Grover would never. Tyson would never.

“Are you ready to get up and have some breakfast?” Cassia asked at last. “Hot breakfast has been put away, but there are still muffins and fruit.”

Percy nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go get something. Thanks.”

“Would you like to tell me about your nightmare?” Raine prompted. Percy sighed, rubbing Fang’s tail between his fingers.

“It’s kind of a recurring one,” he said at last. “I was hoping it had gone away. I, um, I dreamed that... that Bob shackled me to the button, to force me to stay so he and Annabeth could escape.”

“I can see how that would be particularly harrowing,” Raine agreed. “How do you feel about it?”

Percy sank down in his seat. “I don’t wanna sleep without the charm anymore,” he admitted. “I don’t want to have that dream again.”

“That’s understandable,” Raine conceded. “How about this: sleep with the charm for the next few days. When you’ve had time to gather your strength again, we can go back to trying to sleep without it.”

Percy wasn’t especially enthusiastic about that idea, but he nodded. “How long can I have?”

“Whenever you feel ready,” Raine assured him. “If a week passes and you’re still anxious about the idea, we can discuss it again. I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Percy relaxed. He never realized how anxious he was about being rushed until Raine promised he could take his time. “Okay.”

“Can you tell me more about your nightmare?” Raine asked. “It may help you to break it down further.”

Percy winced, not thrilled with the idea. “Grover was there this time,” he said, avoiding the subject. “He helped a lot. There was even a little bit when I sort of knew I was dreaming.”

“You weren’t made more anxious by his presence?” Raine asked. “You mentioned that being a concern.”

Percy shook his head. “Not for that one,” he said. His stomach flipped, and he grimaced, hugging it defensively. “I, uh, I know how that dream ends. This was way better.”

“Can you tell me?” Raine prompted gently. Percy dropped his gaze to the floor.

“Um,” he said. “Most of the time I just scream and cry, like, begging them not to leave me behind. Sometimes I remember to press the button, and then I stop begging.” He fidgeted, avoiding her eyes. “After that it gets harder and harder to breathe until I finally just suffocate.”

His cheeks were wet again. How many stupid tears was he going to shed over this trauma?

“Breathe, one two three four five...” Raine murmured, and Percy followed her count until he felt a little steadier. “It sounds like this nightmare combines several of your fears and insecurities.”

Percy nodded stiffly. “One of them – um, Bob or Annabeth – always tells me that I belong in Tartarus, or that I deserve to be stuck there. I know that’s...” He shuddered before he could finish, and let himself trail off. “But I didn’t end up crying into a toilet this time. I guess that’s an improvement.”

“No issues from reducing your medication?” Raine asked. Percy shrugged and shook his head.

“No nausea or anything,” he said. “It’s been harder to get to sleep, but not like, unmanageable. I think I’ll get used to it.”

“That’s very good,” Raine said, giving him a small smile. “Do you think the lucid dreaming is something you could work on?”

“Lucid dreaming?” Percy asked.

“The moment when you realized you were dreaming,” she explained. “It’s a skill that can, with practice, be improved upon. If you were able to do that consistently, it may grant you a certain amount of control over your dreams.”

Percy thought about it for a minute, but eventually shook his head. “I don’t think so. Grover kind of lucid-dreamed for me, and that was what made me realize it was a dream. But even then I was still pretty foggy. Usually I only know I’m dreaming when it’s a demigod dream.”

“Lucid-dreamed for you?” Raine echoed. Percy shrugged.

“Uh, usually Grover just kind of goes with whatever the dream is,” he said. “He says that it’s pointless and difficult to wake me up in there. But this time he told me I could use the inside button, and suddenly I knew there was an inside button. And, um, that confused me enough that I realized I was dreaming.”

“That’s fascinating,” Raine admitted. “And handy under the circumstances. Is that what he did during the last nightmare he disrupted as well?”

Percy nodded. “I couldn’t see the bathroom door until he asked me where it was. It’s a neat trick, but I’m not sure I could do it on my own. And I don’t want to drag him into all my nightmares just so he can fix them for me.”

“Why don’t you talk to him about it?” Raine suggested. “He’s mature enough to decide for himself, and disrupting the nightmares even occasionally will loosen their hold on you.”

Percy admitted to himself that that would be a huge relief. “I’ll talk to him about it,” he agreed. “But I’m worried about him seeing something that’s, I dunno, too much.”

“You could talk to him about some of your recurring nightmares,” Raine said. “He’s a very close friend of yours; it would do you good to confide in him anyway.”

“And he can decide after I’ve told him that stuff,” Percy said. Raine nodded. “I... okay.” He fidgeted. “The idea kind of worries me, but I get what you’re saying.”

Raine smiled at him. “If you end up deciding against it, that’s fine,” she said. “All I ask is that you talk it over with him.”

“Has Annabeth talked to you about anything that happened down there?” Percy asked Grover, laying on his belly to play with a spinner. Grover shook his head, watching him through the Iris-message.

“She just says she doesn’t want to talk about it,” he said. “Why?”

Percy flicked the spinner and watched it whirl. “I told Raine about you helping me out of my nightmare last night,” he said at last. “Thanks for that.”

“Anytime,” Grover said. Percy smiled a little.

“You might take that back in a minute,” he said, and finally looked up to meet Grover’s eyes, still playing with the toy in his hands. “Raine thinks that it would help if I asked you to do that sometimes. That, um, if you started running interference, then maybe my nightmares wouldn’t have so much power over me.”

“Absolutely,” Grover said, eyes sharp and intent in a way that made Percy feel warm. “You don’t even have to ask.”

Percy gave Grover a wan, grateful smile, then kept going. “Thanks,” he said softly. “But I didn’t want to ask without at least sort of giving you an idea of what you’re getting into. So... I was gonna tell you about some of the recurring nightmares. If. If that’s okay.”

“Yes,” Grover said fiercely. “I’m here for you, man. No matter what.”

Percy adored Grover.

“Last night’s was one of the recurring ones,” Percy said, watching his spinner with unnecessary concentration. “Usually I stay chained to that button until I suffocate and die.” He turned the toy over in his hands. “I don’t really get that one. I tried to get Annabeth to go on ahead, when I didn’t think Bob would be enough. I offered to stay in Tartarus.”

“You were probably still terrified, dude,” Grover pointed out. “You almost got stuck in Tartarus. That’s- that’s horrifying. Course you had nightmares about it. I’m going to have nightmares about it.”

Percy bit down an apology. “What you did last night, that was amazing,” he told Grover. “You helped me avoid the worst of it. I really appreciate it.” A thought occurred to him. “The other time too – um, when you helped me hide in the bathroom.”

Grover shrugged, looking embarrassed. “It was all I could think to do.”

“It worked great,” Percy said, and then shifted. “Um... another big one has been like, a lot of drowning nightmares.”

Grover couldn’t hide his surprise at that. “You’re having drowning nightmares?”

Percy shrugged, embarrassed, and his shoulder angel reminded him that he was allowed to be traumatized. “Some stuff happened on this last quest,” he explained. “A bog up in Alaska and a trap that some ancient nymphs set up. It shook me up pretty bad. So yeah, drowning nightmares.”

Grover bit his thumb, considering. “Is it like... deep underwater?”

Percy shook his head. “Not usually – I mean, sometimes. But most of the time it’s a river, a bog, or a well.”

Grover winced. “How often are you getting these that you have that many variations?"

"It was at least once a week when I first got back,” Percy admitted. “Sometimes more. When I was still at camp, even. I... wasn’t doing great.”

“No wonder you looked so exhausted,” Grover said. Percy nodded. “What else?”

Percy was relieved for the opening. “This is the one I’m really worried about,” he warned Grover. “Annabeth and I ran into Nyx, and she summoned her entire brood.” Grover muttered a curse. “Yeah. There’s two from this one. One of them is of when Annabeth and I were running through the Mansion of Night. We didn’t see anything, but, um, my mind makes a lot of stuff up.” He shrugged. “I don’t get that one as much now, but those are really messed up.”

“And the other?” Grover prompted. Percy grimaced.

“They hunt me for sport,” he said bitterly. “Sometimes it’s a chase thing, sometimes I’m hiding and trying to stay quiet, but they find me by the end of most dreams. And then, uh, they kill me in whatever messy way my mind can dream up.” He avoided Grover’s gaze. “Sorry. I know you don’t want to see that.”

“I mean, obviously,” Grover agreed, making Percy’s heart drop. “But what am I gonna do? Leave you to it?”

“You can,” Percy assured him. “I’d understand. It’s really messed up.”

“Uh, no,” Grover said. “That is not an option, that was a joke.” He met Percy’s eyes, surprisingly serious. “It means a lot to me that you told me all this. I know it’s been hard on you. And I know that, more than anything, you need support right now. You can count on me for that. Always.”

Percy’s heart melted, gratitude and relief mixing together. “I know,” he said. “I know I can. I just don’t want all this stuff to mess you up too. You don’t need to take that on for me.” It would be really, really hard to forgive himself if his nightmares traumatized Grover.

“Percy, you literally just gave me a list of reasons you need my help,” Grover said, and sure enough, he looked more determined than ever. “I know my limits, okay? I won’t reach out if I’m not up to it. But I want to help you. I don’t want you to be dealing with this by yourself.” He smiled confidently at Percy. “I’ll start thinking about ways I can try and redirect you. Sounds like I’ll be getting a lot of practice soon.”

Percy smiled at him, feeling warm all over. “Thank you, so much,” he said earnestly.

Chapter Text

Percy cupped his hands around his mouth. “This is a repeat after me song!” he shouted.

“This is a repeat after me song!” the others echoed. Percy grinned. There was something special about singing as a group; it knocked all the embarrassment out of the equation, and everyone seemed enthusiastic.

“We’re going on a monster hunt!” Percy called out.

“We’re going on a monster hunt!”

“I’ve got my best sword!” he sang.

“I’ve got my best sword!” Some of the mortal kids looked a little confused, but most of them seemed to be enjoying the novelty.

“I’m not scared!”

“I’m not scared!”

“Oh, look at that river!” he called. “It’s full of dead and broken dreams! It’s the Styx!” Someone spluttered; Percy thought it was Amethyst, choking down laughter. He grinned. “Can’t go over it!”

“Can’t go over it!” the others chorused.

“Can’t go under it!”

“Can’t go under it!”

“Gotta pay for passage!”

“Gotta pay for passage!”

“Ching ching ching ching ching!” Percy bounced his hand like he was dropping coins.

It had been Annabeth’s idea to hold a campfire at St. Joan’s; apparently she’d been missing it just as much as Percy. Letitia had agreed pretty enthusiastically. There weren’t any Apollo kids here to lead sing-along, but Percy helped out sometimes anyway, and it was fun to come up with things on the fly.

“We’re going on a monster hunt!” he called.

“We’re going on a monster hunt!”

Nico wasn’t singing along, but he seemed to be enjoying the experience anyway. He looked as relaxed as Percy had ever seen him, and his head was tilted back to look at the sky. Ruya was sitting next to him, playing with the end of her hijab; they’d gotten along as well as Percy had hoped they would. And Ruya was singing along – he could make out her voice in the chorus, and she was smiling, shy and warm.

“I’ve got my best sword!”

“I’ve got my best sword!”

Violetta was really into it, and she clapped quietly along to the beat of Percy’s lines. Percy would bet she’d been in a lot of summer camps. She was even giggling, swaying to and fro with the rhythm.

“I’m not scared!”

“I’m not scared!”

This, Percy realized suddenly, was probably the best he’d felt since he’d woken up in Lupa’s Wolf House nearly a year ago. He didn’t just feel calm or comforted or even loved; he felt happy.

“Oh, look at those rocks!” Percy called. “There’s Scylla on top and Charybdis down below!” He gestured, and the few remaining holdouts, Lucy and Nico, joined in. “Can’t go over them!”

“Can’t go over them!”

“Can’t go under them!”

“Can’t go under them!”

“Gotta sail between them!”

It was a good evening. Even Hugo, who’d arrived only the day before, grew comfortable in the friendly atmosphere. A few of the staff had come to supervise, too – Cassia, Eddie, Letitia, Mai. They sat nearby, chatting quietly with each other rather than participating, but it still made Percy feel good to have them around.

“We’re going on a monster hunt!” he called out.

Almost an hour passed before people started to lag; Percy knew the signs. He wrapped up the last song and shifted gears, and a few minutes later, they were huddling closer to the fire to roast marshmallows. Amethyst stuck hers in the fire and giggled when it caught. He sat next to Annabeth, and they leaned together while they toasted their marshmallows.

“You’re good at that,” Annabeth said after a while. She pulled her skewer back to check on her marshmallow. “I never got the hang of leading sing-alongs.”

Percy smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “You take things so seriously,” he said. Across the campfire, Lucy was talking to Hugo, pointing people out and telling him just how far they’d come while she was here – Amethyst becoming less defensive, Nico learning how to socialize, how compliments used to make Percy anxious. “It’s harder to think of being silly around you.”

“You’re silly around me all the time,” Annabeth said.

“I know you’ll let me get away with it.”

Annabeth shook her head, eyes soft, and was quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry I was so cold to you when you got on the Argo,” she said unexpectedly.

Percy’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“I was so caught up in my own problems that we barely talked,” Annabeth said, leaning against him. “I’ve... been thinking about it. You must have felt like I was mad at you. And I judo-flipped you as soon as I saw you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Percy nudged his cheek against her temple. “It’s okay. I could tell you were distracted, and you’re always kind of aggressive when you worry. I know that.”

“Did I scare you?”

Percy didn’t answer right away. He pulled his marshmallow back and made a s’more.

“I didn’t like it,” he said at last. “It made me really uncomfortable. But I also knew you didn’t mean anything by it. You weren’t trying to manipulate me or anything. You were just upset.” He elbowed her gently. “I trust you. It would take a lot more than that to really freak me out.”

Annabeth nodded and relaxed again, and finally pulled her marshmallow back as well. Percy stuffed his into his mouth and snickered when she rolled her eyes.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” she said suddenly. Percy cocked his head. Annabeth avoided looking at him, studying the fire instead. “I... worry a lot about how you’re doing, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Percy said softly, tugging her closer.

“I...” Annabeth hesitated. “Let’s speak in private.”

Brow furrowing, Percy cooperated, and they took their s’mores with them to sit just inside the tree line. Annabeth fiddled with hers for a moment, frowning, and he waited. Anxiety started bubbling up the longer the silence went on.

“I want you to promise that you’ll tell me if you’re feeling bad,” Annabeth finally said, still without looking at him.

“I promise,” Percy agreed instantly. Annabeth exhaled.

“I mean it,” she said. She met his eyes. “It scares me that you could get so bad without me noticing. I hate knowing that you were down the hall from me, wishing you were dead, and I had no idea. Percy, I could have lost you before I even knew something was wrong. Because you didn’t want to bother me.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Percy soothed her, reaching out to take her hand. “I’m getting a lot of help now, and I’m getting a lot better at handling stuff. That’s not gonna happen. You don’t have to worry.”

“Percy, it almost did happen,” Annabeth snapped. Her eyes glimmered in the firelight, though she was still glaring. “You did it. You made an attempt. And I, I wasn’t even paying attention. I...” Her hand tightened around his. “You must have been so unhappy. For days. Weeks.”

“That doesn’t have to be your problem.”

“Percy!” Annabeth took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. Percy waited anxiously while she thought about whatever she wanted to say. “I... feel guilty that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, and hurt that you weren’t comfortable reaching out to me. And... I’m afraid that I won’t be able to tell when you’re unhappy like that again. I want you to be happy. I... want to help you when you’re unhappy.”

It was the most emotion and sincerity that Percy had ever heard from Annabeth, and suddenly he understood. He hugged her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I promise. I’ll figure it out.”

“Do you feel ready to revisit the topic of the gods?” Raine asked.

Percy sighed and leaned on the chair, crossing his arms. “Sure, I guess.”

“What are your thoughts?”

Percy wrinkled his nose, but forced himself to push past the weary resignation that had come with the mere mention of deities. “I don’t know what to think of them,” he said at last. “They really let us down in a lot of ways this year. I mean... I know some of them would have helped if they could have, like Artemis or Dad. But they couldn’t, and they didn’t.” He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm., watching rain sprinkle the window behind Raine. “They... I can’t help but think, what’s the point?”

“The point of what?”

“We pray to them, burn food for them, fight in their names,” Percy said quietly, moving his palm to his temple. “Why do we bother, if they’re never there for us when we need them? Because they demand it? What’s the point of loving them if they don’t love us?”

“You’re using a lot of absolutes,” Raine said. “Do you remember when I asked you to think of times when immortals have helped you?” Percy nodded. “Can you think of them now?”

Percy sighed, but had to give in. “The river nymph at Geryon’s ranch taught me how to summon water,” he said. “Nymphs are really nice in general. Um, Hermes gave me some cool stuff that really helped in the Sea of Monsters, and he didn’t even make me go on that quest. He just kinda suggested it.” He fidgeted, scuffing his shoes on the floor. “Chiron’s amazing. The best teacher I could ever ask for.” But they were talking about gods. He turned his mind in that direction. “Dad... did I ever tell you that it was Dad’s idea to use Medusa’s head on Gabe?” Raine raised her eyebrows and shook her head, and Percy smiled a little. “Yeah. I don’t know how much he knew then about what was happening, but I’d sent him the head, and he sent it back right when I got home. Said I’d have a choice to make. One of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“Do you think your father loves you?”

“...Yeah,” Percy said, softer. “I know he does. He does as much for me as he can.”

Raine nodded. “Do you think you can answer your own question?”

What’s the point of loving them if they don’t love us?

“They... they do.” Percy sighed, shifting again to rub his face. “They do love us. They’re just bad at it. It’s just... they’ve hurt us a lot. When is it time to stop forgiving them for it?”

“What do you think?” Raine asked.

Percy exhaled. “I don’t know. They’re family, right? You’re supposed to forgive family for anything.” The corner of Raine’s mouth quirked up, and after a moment, Percy caught on and let out a ragged laugh. “I guess that’s not true. But what makes them different from the parents of any of the kids here?”

“What do you think?” she repeated. Percy crossed his arms and put his head down in them to think.

“They don’t mean it,” he said softly. “I mean- really, genuinely don’t mean it. They’re not manipulating us on purpose or anything. They just don’t know how to be good parents.” He hesitated, contemplating further. “I... feel like they want to do right by us, but they don’t know what a mortal kid needs.”

“When do you stop forgiving them for that?”

“...When they stop trying,” Percy decided. “I, I think that as long as they’re trying to be good parents, they deserve that chance to try.”

“Do you think that matters more than the harm they do?”

Percy sat back up, frowning. “I don’t know,” he admitted at last. “I mean- I want to forgive them, because they’re never hurting us on purpose. But they’re so big, and we’re so little. How are we supposed to overcome that?”

“What do you mean?”

He thumbed his palm, fidgeting with his hands, and then grabbed his favorite spinner to play with. “They do so much damage with such little mistakes,” he said. “I mean- they’re not little to us, because we have to clean up the mess, but I can see why they’d think so. The gods have really normal flaws, you know? Athena is proud. Zeus is paranoid. Apollo’s impulsive, Mr. D’s childish. And that should be fine. People are allowed to have flaws.” He took a deep breath. “But the gods deal with stuff that affects millions of people. When they mess up, people suffer. People die.” He scuffed the floor. “And I want to say they should be allowed to mess up, because everyone does. But it’s so awful for us, because we always get stuck with the mess.”

“Then that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

Startled, Percy looked up. Raine met his eyes evenly.

“How often do you fix your mother’s mistakes?” Raine asked.

“Uh... basically never?” It clicked. “Oh.”

Raine nodded. “It should never fall to you to handle your parents’ mistakes. That’s their responsibility as mature adults.”

Instead of comforted, Percy mostly just felt defeated. “But that’s how it works,” he said. “Demigods run errands for the gods. End of story.”

“That’s how it works now,” Raine agreed softly. “But things can change.” She twirled her pen. “This is a thought exercise for now. I understand it would be difficult to implement. But I want you to think about your parents, your quests, and where you would want to set your boundaries. What would you be willing to do for your mother as her son, or for Paul as his stepson? What would you resent being asked to do? And then – what are you willing to do for your father as his son? And what do you expect him to handle himself?”

Percy hadn’t thought about it like that. He wasn’t really mad about his first quest anymore, and his second- that had been for Grover. His third, for Annabeth. His fourth, the camp.

“It was really just this quest and the battle last year that I did for the gods, huh?” he said slowly. He tapped his spinner on the chair back. “I mean, the fourth was kind of their fault too. But...” He pared them down in his head. “I can forgive them for the first three, I think. Maybe even the first four. But when we started getting attacked by titans and giants... that’s when they should have been protecting us.” He shifted his gaze back to Raine. “I think that’s fair. Right? The quests were- they were okay. I mean, hard, but I- I felt like I could handle them. This last one...” He closed his eyes, thinking hard. “If all we’d had to do was retrieve the Athena Parthenos... I think we could’ve done that too. It was just- everything else.”

“If that’s where you feel comfortable setting your boundary, then that’s where it goes,” Raine said. Percy gave her a relieved smile, which faded quickly.

“I don’t know if I can hold them to that,” he confessed, leaning forward again. “Gods are really stubborn and really, really entitled. They’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“What do you think you can do?” Raine asked. Percy’s brow furrowed.

“They can’t make me do anything,” he said, and then clenched his hands nervously. “Um, I’m not sure I should go down that path. It turns suicidal pretty fast.”

Raine nodded seriously. “Then let’s approach it with care,” she said. “What was your thought process?”

“They can’t force me to do anything,” Percy repeated without looking at her. “It doesn’t matter what kind of corner they back me into. If I die, I go to Elysium, and- and I won’t have to deal with them anymore.”

“Can you think of any other solutions?” Raine prompted. Percy fidgeted.

“...They’ve never smote me for defiance before, I guess,” he said at last. “Dad... Dad might protect me.” He remembered something. “Hermes said he wasn’t going to let any of them force me onto another quest.”

“Does that change your approach?”

“I- yeah.” He spun the toy again. “I think... I could maybe talk some of them into helping, if I really had to. If something happened and we had to fight something on that scale... I, I think Dad would take my side, and maybe Athena. Artemis. Maybe even Hephaestus or Hermes. And that would be enough to start an argument. Get some of them on our side.”

“Does that make you feel more confident?” Raine prompted. Percy nodded.

“So I just... set that boundary and try to enforce it?” he asked, searching her eyes. “And then maybe it’ll be okay?”

Raine nodded. “Trust takes time to rebuild,” she said, “and we won’t be able to do that here. If you feel confident in your ability to set a positive course from now on, we’ve done as much as we can.”

Percy smiled, feeling much lighter. “I think I’m ready to give them another chance,” he said. “I’m not so angry anymore, or so scared. I still feel hurt, and I think I will for a long time. But maybe it’s the kind of hurt that can heal, especially if more of them start to acknowledge how much we did for them.”

“Do you think you need that validation from them?” Raine prompted softly.

“Yes,” Percy said without hesitation. “I’ll never be able to honor them again until they honor us too. We went into Tartarus for those bastards. If that doesn’t earn their respect, I don’t care what they think anymore.”

His voice roughened toward the end, and he wasn’t surprised when Raine prompted, “Is that true?”