Melpomene (PJO)

11. Recollection, re-collection

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

MASON

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

This was a rare stroke of luck.

Things really, really hadn't gone the way Mason had planned recently. First, Luke lost Frankie on top of Mount Tam, when he'd sworn he'd get her to the princess Andromeda. Fine. Mason trusted Luke, everyone made mistakes, and Mason had come up with a plan to fix things and get his sister back another way. But Adela, and his annoying little brother, Will, had managed to ruin that, too. He'd stayed in Texas to see if he could find another way around things, some way to make Frankie see that she couldn't just replace their mother with some off-brand version that didn't involve killing Naomi Solace (even if that would have been the simplest solution), but Adela still wouldn't leave him alone.

Well, more accurately she wouldn't leave Naomi Solace alone, following the woman around like some kind of un-appointed bodyguard, though she never got close enough to make Will's mother know. It was as if she'd taken the fact that Mason had spared her life once as a bat signal to deliberately thwart any of his plans, in the most obnoxious way she could possibly manage. It was aggravating, but it gave him the chance to take off without the death-spreader noticing as soon as he got the call from that awful cowherd, Geryon.

The call had been good news. Very good news.

Frankie was here. And she was somewhere contained, where he could pick her up without any unwanted interference. Or, at least, she had been. When he arrived, she'd been partaking in some kind of ritual... trust her to get herself into a mess the second he left her alone. So, he hid behind the curtain in the kitchen and tried to come up with a plan to lure Frankie way. Imagine his surprise when he didn't even need to - despite his sister's words, he was the lucky one tonight.

His sister was lying on the floor, a trickle of blood dripping from her hairline. Mason looked at the frying pan in his hand, and sure enough, it was coated in sticky red. But, Frankie was still breathing. Still, this was the second time he'd knocked his sister out via blunt force trauma. He really had to stop doing that.

"Mason, that's your name, right? You don't wanna do this. Please, don't hurt that little girl. She's just a kid. She- she's your sister, isn't she? If ya care about Mari at all, please, just let her go. Please, don't make her suffer anym-"

"Goodbye, Naomi." Mason spat the woman's name out like poison and flicked his hand through the iris-message, a sense of immense satisfaction filling him as the woman's irritating face and voice dissipated into nothingness. Then, he hefted his sister's sleeping form over his shoulders, smiling to himself. It reminded him of when he'd first seen Frankie again after her... return, when she'd played capture the flag with him and Luke. He'd carried her like this then. And he'd given her piggybacks when she was a baby all those years ago. He hadn't been old enough to carry her himself, so their Mom had helped him. He'd missed that, and he knew Frankie must have missed it, too.

That was part of the reason he'd given her the memories. She didn't just need to remember who she was, she needed to remember how much she'd loved him, and how much he'd loved her. And the dreams were wonderful for him, too. Frankie couldn't know this, but he got to experience them with her. At least, he got to experience the ones he wanted to. He couldn't relive Frankie's dea- when Frankie went away. He wouldn't be able to bear it, so for that one he'd left. But she'd needed to know.

"C'mon, let's get you out of here." Mason strolled out of the house, his sister's head lolling against his shoulder as he went. It hadn't been more than a couple of minutes, so he'd probably have ample time to escape unnoticed with his little sister, but he didn't want to linger and risk it. Especially with Percy Jackson around - that kid could pack a punch, from what Mason had been told.