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Sally sat on the couch in front of the cabin’s little fire and did her best to think of nothing at all.
Percy was stretched out along the sofa beside her, his head resting against a ratty blue pillow along her leg as he drooled through his hopefully peaceful dreams. His socked feet hung over the armrest on the other end of the couch; Sally swore he’d grown half a foot since the last time she’d seen him.
The last time. The Minotaur. Grover. Half-Blood Hill. The Camaro. The rain.
She’d expected to die. She had assumed there was no option but to die at that moment. It wouldn’t have mattered, so long as Percy lived.
Nothing else mattered, so long as Percy lived.
Percy mumbled a bit in his sleep and turned toward the back of the couch, jarring the bag of stale marshmallows he and Sally had been snacking on. A few fell out, and Sally gently reached over to stuff them back in the bag.
Then she stopped. She stopped and studied one of the marshmallows, the sugary residue leaving her hand sticky as she gripped it too tightly. Without another thought, Sally tossed the marshmallow into the waiting flames before her.
Thank you, she thought. Thank you, she prayed. Her clean hand ran slowly through Percy’s hair, brushing the golden curls she’d always loved so much. Thank you for my son.
The latch clicked, and the door of the little cabin opened gently with the breeze, filling the space with salt and moonlight and the deafening, yet comforting, sound of the waves crashing on the shore.
Slowly, Sally picked up Percy’s head from her leg and rested his pillow on the couch. She kissed his forehead, covered him with the quilt from the armchair, and tiptoed her way out the door, closing it behind her with a gentle click.
She walked barely ten paces from the door, her bare feet digging into the sand, before he was there, he was there, his arms wrapped around her tightly, his cheek brushing against her temple. He smelled like salt and sunshine and happier days, and when he said her name, the word rumbled through his chest and finally shook her out of the shocked daze she’d been living in since Percy walked through the cabin door that afternoon.
“Sally,” the god of the sea whispered in her ear. “Sally.”
She hadn’t expected him to come, was the thing. She’d called for him a handful of times over the years, the difficult, terrifying moments when she had no idea what to do next. The snakes in Percy’s crib, the cyclops on the playground. The Pegasus, the boarding school. Camp.
The night before she married Gabe.
Poseidon had always shown, always said everything yet nothing, and watched her with eyes that told her he knew how this story ended already.
Sally hadn’t expected him tonight. Tonight, for the first time, she’d truly just wanted to thank him. Percy should have died a half-dozen times at least on his quest across the country, and that was just gleaned from what Percy had deigned to tell her. But Percy hadn’t. Her son was alive, their son was alive, thanks in part to his father.
“Do not thank me,” Poseidon whispered into her hair. “Perseus is mine as well. He is my son. Do not thank me for fulfilling the bare minimum. I spent the last two weeks keeping him alive; you are the one who has given him a life, Sally.”
Then Sally began to cry, wretched and hacking sobs into Poseidon’s shoulder as he held the back of her head with one hand, and she finally lifted her arms to hug him back.
They stood like that for a long time, the two of them holding one another, leaning into one another as they hadn’t allowed themselves for years. And, when Sally's tears were finally spent, she stepped back and grabbed Poseidon’s warm and calloused hand and sat with him along the shore.
Sally had never been a religious person, which seemed a bit reckless considering the turns her life had taken. But even she could admit there was something holy about it, sitting next to the god of the sea on the cusp of his domain, watching the moonlight reflect in his eyes the same way it glinted from the gentle waves that so conveniently arched around sand beneath her as they crested and crashed upon the shore.
“You taught him Ancient Greek,” Poseidon said quietly, the hint of a smile on his face.
Sally shrugged. “I wanted him to be prepared.” Poseidon squeezed her hand once, then looked back out to the ocean.
“He is a kind soul. He reminds me so much of you.”
Sally rested her forehead against Poseidon’s shoulder to hide her tears. They sat like that for a long while, the quiet between them, save their matching breaths and the crashing of waves, a balm to her heart. Eventually, Sally turned her head to watch the water, but remained where she was, resting against Poseidon until—
“Percy is coming.” This was how it always ended, the few and far between visits over the years. Percy is awake, Percy is coming, Percy needs you, Percy is crying, Percy is waiting—
Poseidon always knew.
“Mom?” Percy shouted, the little door to the cabin slamming open in his panic. “Mom, where are you? Mom!”
Sally gripped Poseidon’s hand once in farewell before dropping it and turning to face her son. “I’m right here, sweetheart. It’s alright, it’s fine, I just needed some air.”
Percy’s gaze finally found hers; she watched his shoulders heave once in relief. He began to approach before stopping abruptly for a moment, then sprinting toward her.
“You’re here,” Percy said with wide eyes when he reached her at the shore. But he wasn’t staring at Sally. Percy was watching—
“I am,” Poseidon said calmly, and Sally’s whole body jolted. She whipped her head around to stare at the god.
He hadn’t left this time.
“Am I…” Percy trailed off, and even by just the light of the moon, Sally caught the blush growing high in Percy’s cheeks. “Am I, um, interrupting something?”
Sally snorted with laughter and shook her head. “No, baby. Do you want to sit with us?”
Sally had assumed Percy would sit next to her, but Poseidon surprised her yet again when he slid to the left, creating a space for Percy between them. Percy paused for only a second before settling down in the sand there.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve come around, is it.” Percy leaned into her as he turned to Poseidon, a challenge, not a question, evident in his tone.
“No, Percy. It is not.”
Percy nodded once, then turned back to stare at the waves. For a long moment, silence reigned again, just the three of them sitting together on a beach. To anyone else, they would have been the picture of a perfect family, a father, a mother, and their preteen son, off to escape the hustle and bustle of the city for a summer weekend in the sand.
A family. They were a family. They would always be a family. But Sally had the sense that all three of them understood that this could, and more likely than not would, be the last time they would be together like this.
The waves before her began to almost dance, falling into new rhythms of height, length and intensity every few minutes, all while leaving the three of them completely dry. Sally couldn’t help but smile at the familiar patterns, the sight dragging her years into the past.
“Well done,” Poseidon said approvingly, “Excellent control,” and Sally sat up in shock, jarring Percy’s head from where it had been resting on her shoulder.
“That’s you?” she asked, looking down at Percy, who grinned sheepishly and shrugged. His arms were stretched out behind him as he lounged in the sand; he’d been controlling the waves with his mind. “Percy that’s incredible!”
“Guess I finally have an actual skill for the talent show this year,” Percy said with a smirk. Sally knocked his shoulder with hers.
“This is incredible. But you’ve always been incredible. And I for one have always been a fan of your singing voice.”
“Mom, I sound like a dying whale when I sing,” Percy said matter-of-factly. Poseidon barked out a laugh, making Percy grin shyly once again. The smile fell after a moment, and Percy stared into the water and bit his lip.
“Why didn’t you talk to me? If you’ve come before, why didn’t you…” Percy trailed off. Sally reached down and gripped his hand.
“I did not wish to draw attention to you, child.” Poseidon’s face was a mask of nothingness as his eyes looked toward the horizon.
“And now?”
Sally watched as her son and his father’s gazes met. She realized in that moment the moonlight didn’t reflect off Poseidon’s ocean eyes so much as become absorbed by them, swirling and shining, revealing a light that belonged to a world not her own.
Percy had his father’s eyes.
“And now, my son, the pantheon shall never forget the name Perseus Jackson. You have been etched forever into our histories. The world will come to know your triumphs.”
Sally felt goosebumps grow on her arms with the words.
“Oh,” Percy whispered, his voice barely a breath. Sally wrapped her arm around Percy’s narrow shoulders and squeezed him tight.
“The world can wait, Percy. For now, let's just work on surviving seventh grade.”
Percy smiled again, wide and honest, and Sally pressed a kiss to the top of his head and watched the sky beginning to turn purple at the edge of the world, where Atlas stood in torment, eternally separating the sky above from the earth he loved so dearly.
One of Sally’s arms still hugged Percy, and the other reached around him, searching for only a moment before Poseidon found her hand. His thumb traced along her knuckles, etching new little waves along her palm.
The sun would rise. Poseidon would leave. Percy would grow. The world would keep turning.
But forever, she would have this moment. They would have this moment, when time stopped, and all was well, and for the first time since the beginning all three of them could be together. Could be free.
“This is nice,” Percy said quietly, his words blending seamlessly with the crashing of the waves. With one last squeeze, Poseidon released Sally’s hand. She held her breath and watched as he reached up and gripped Percy’s shoulder. Percy paused for a moment before relaxing completely, leaning into his father’s hand. Around them, the waves immediately calmed, and Sally grinned through her tears.
Over Percy’s head, Poseidon met Sally’s eyes and smiled. “Yes, it is.”
***