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Perseus James Jackson

I knew I was in trouble if I heard my full name. It was rarely said and even rarely yelled, but that made it even worse. My stomach always sank when I heard my mom say it, her even tone and soft voice simultaneously telling me to run and plead for mercy.

Like the time she caught me sitting on the fire escape thousands of times when I was a kid. It didn't matter that I was trying to escape the crowded room I had to share with Gabe's old treadmill and musty boxes of who knew what; she had "told you time and time again it's not safe, what happens if you fall?"

Or when I talked back to principal after principal during meetings discussing my expulsion. Sure, she understood how difficult it was for me to focus or keep calm when bullied. I knew she understood what wasn't my fault and it wasn't always my fault. The weird things that happened to me, the strangers I saw, the monsters I insisted were real...

But she did not tolerate calling a headmaster "stupid" or "fat" or saying his mom "probably cried when she had him". To be fair, the man totally deserved it, but I later agreed that maybe saying all of that didn't help me in the long run.

And the times she caught me with weapons in the house?

Yes, multiple times.

Sometimes, I'd be twirling Riptide around as I paced my room, trying to think. Occasionally, I'd accidentally jab the end of my bed or chip at the paint on the wall. It usually wasn't as big of a deal when that happened, but I got bored all cooped up in the apartment. Sue me if I tried teaching myself tricks.

Balancing cups on the flat of my blade, picking up mugs by the handle using the tip of the sword, trying to peel off the pieces of tape from way up high on my wall that used to secure a poster, spearing pizza rolls and attempting to feed myself. It was harmless in theory, sure, but do you know how quickly that could go wrong?

You probably do, because you have common sense.

My name hissed like steam when she caught me trying to yank the sword out of the ceiling after a trick went off course.

One time, Annabeth was witness to this force of nature, which could have literally ended my life.

We were on our way to camp and I was not in a good mood. I didn't remember what set me so grumpy, but I was snapping at everything and everyone. With Annabeth crammed in the back seat with me, she was the closest target. Traffic was stop and go and the sun was merciless through the window. Even with the AC blasting, I was too hot and all the bags were too close to me. We were arguing, I didn't know what about, but we were arguing. I don't know what I said, but around forty minutes in, my mother slammed on the breaks.

And twisted in her seat, pinning me with a shocked and very angry look.

"Perseus James Jackson," she had said lowly. "Apologize right now."

And I remember the expression on Annabeth's face, parts confused and parts elated to now hold such powerful knowledge over me.

She had tried the full name trick one time, both of us cringing more than anything else, before calling me an asshole and pushing me to the dirt. Only my mom could pull it off with such finesse and no effort at all and the thought of Annabeth saying what my mom says was slightly disturbing.

I took a deep breath, staring at the door.

I hadn't heard my mom say anything for months, much less my name. For awhile, I couldn't even remember I had a mom. I missed so much and I knew she must have been worried...I hated to make her worry. She would get lines between her eyebrows and she would grip whatever she was holding so tight her knuckles went white. The lines would always appear when Gabe set his sights on me when I was home on break or she would get a call from one of my schools. I was always the source of her worries.

My knock was hesitant and my breath caught in my throat.

Would it be better not to come back at all? As much as I'd like to live out my life as normal as possible, it didn't seem likely. I could come back and apologize, but whose to say some god didn't snatch me up again?  I could never say how permanent I was in my family's lives and my mother would live in a constant state of wonder.

Wondering if her son would come back alive.

The door swung open and the air rushed from my lungs. "Mom."

"Percy," she said shakily, slowly reaching out. "You..."

We stood there for a moment.

"I tried to call earlier, but-"

She crushed me in a bear hug, stroked my hair and kissing all over my face. "You're home, oh my god, you're home and safe and oh, Percy, I missed you so much."

It took all my will not to buckle under the sudden relief . I clung to her, burying my face in her neck. She smelled like cookies and clean laundry and tears stung my eyes. I was so much taller than her now; it seemed like yesterday she was holding me tight after I ran off from her in the store. I thought she was overreacting, I had been fine.

I didn't have a clue.

"Perseus James Jackson," she heaved a watery laugh. "Where on earth have you been?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."