Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The transfer shuttle touched down with a screech of grinding metal. June stood up, pulling on her backpack and heading for the exit. There was nobody else in the cabin; no one else from the interplanetary liner was getting off.

The door opened with the hiss of aging pneumatics, steps sliding out from the hull and down to the hangar floor below. She stepped through, out into the harsh artificial lights of Argo Station.

It wasn’t exactly a large place. Looking around, she could see the whole station consisted of a single, somewhat grimy medium-sized hangar, with space for maybe three small ships. Above it loomed a raised concourse with half a dozen shopfronts; half of them were hidden behind tarpaulins and scaffolding, while pallets of materials were strewn across the hanger floor. The sound of someone using an electric saw echoed from nearby.

June frowned, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the crumpled brochure the construction company had given her at Charon. She held it up in front of the view, comparing the gleaming promotional render to the actual state of the place; it didn’t even compare. The pamphlet did admit the station was ‘under refurbishment’, but now that was seeming like a serious understatement.

There were a few people around, mostly labourers working amid the scaffolding. The exception was a gaggle of children and teens on the upper terrace, accompanied by a woman with dark hair and a greying man in a long brown overcoat. They were standing around one of the storefronts, a half-painted yellow sign over their heads reading “the Seabed & Breakfast”. June found herself wondering what their story was; were they running, like she was?

A rumble behind her signalled the shuttle’s departure. She glanced back to watch it take off and fly lazily out of the hangar, back towards the interstellar liner that had brought her here. With it went her last chance to back out of staying here. She shook her head as it docked, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in her chest.

This was a lot further than she had meant to go; running away had been spur-of-the-moment, brought on by grief and confusion. When she had discovered there was a way out, a multiverse waiting beyond her home world, she had jumped on the first outbound ship on a desperate whim. But now, watching the liner that had brought her the last leg of her journey fire up its engines and turn away, she wondered if that had all been a mistake.

She tried to ignore how each breath seemed harder, shaking the thought from her head. A few deep breaths brought her back down off the edge of panic, back into the grimy hangar. There was no time to think about that now; she was here for a reason.

She started walking briskly, passing under the balcony above. Ahead, between the shuttered doors of two workshops, was an old manual door labelled ‘Facilities’; that was where the company had told her to go. Living space out here wasn’t cheap, but the company had no scruples about hiring her for maintenance work. That came with a free room, so it would have to do.

She pulled the ID card they’d given her from her pocket and pressed it to the card reader on the lock. It opened with a clunk, and she pushed the door open to reveal a small, dark room.

The light switch was behind the door. She flicked it on and a single yellow light, set into the ceiling flickered to life overhead. It revealed a small office, with a plywood desk, a computer, and little else, the walls all bare metal. There was another door in the far wall, left unlocked for her.

Beyond was another small room, with a few boxes of supplies piled against one side wall. A basic bedframe with a small mattress rested against the other, with a pile of cheap sheets dumped on top of it. She took a deep breath; it wasn’t much, but this would have to serve as home for a while.

Chapter Text

It had been an unusually quiet morning at the Seabed & Breakfast. There had been no overnight guests and few customers for breakfast; as lunchtime rolled around, the place was still empty. And so, with nothing that urgently needed doing, Sally found herself waiting idly behind the café counter.

She was waiting for a visit from Argo’s Facilities and Maintenance department; last night the shower in Nico and Bianca’s bathroom had broken, refusing to run hot. Of course, that had triggered an argument over which of the other showers they should use, and that meant all the kids had gone to bed tired and irritable.

She could never regret taking in the handful of children who called the Seabed home; she loved them all as much as Percy, and she knew this was better for them than staying on their home world with monsters hunting their scent at every turn. But sometimes it was tiring, having to play mother to half a dozen kids, each with their own issues and insecurities.

Watching through the front windows, something pulled Sally from her thoughts; a young girl was walking up from the hangar level, her gaze on the Seabed. It wasn’t anyone Sally recognised; Argo had maybe thirty permanent residents, so even in the few weeks she had been living here she’d met most of them already. This girl was either one of the few who had managed to avoid her, or someone entirely new.

She headed straight for the Seabed. The glass door slid open as she reached it, and she stepped inside briskly. She met Sally’s gaze as she approached the café's counter; her expression was neutral, but there was something weary in her green eyes.

“Hi,” she began, “one of your showers is broken?” Sally blinked, her greeting forgotten, before looking the girl up and down. Was this child part of the station’s staff?

She looked eleven at the most, thin and gangly with pale skin and short auburn hair. A not-quite-clean orange hoodie with a fox stitched on the front, the colour faded and the fabric fraying in a couple of places, clung to her frame. She had the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, hands gripping tightly to the straps of her backpack as if afraid someone might steal it. It reminded Sally all too much of when she had first met Luke’s group, how they had looked after months on the run.

“You’re from Facilities?” she asked.

“Yup,” the girl said bluntly, “June Bailey, Facilities & Maintenance. I got your support ticket.” She rummaged in her hoodie pocket for a moment, before pulling out a plastic ID card. Sure enough, her name and portrait were printed neatly below the emblem for Argo Station.

“Oh, okay,” Sally said apprehensively, not sure what to make of this. The whole situation had alarm bells going off in her head, but she was wary of saying anything. “It’s one of the ones my family use; I can show you.”

“Sure.”

She quickly led June out of the Seabed’s café and back into the rooms the kids used, not taking her eyes off her for a second. The girl had her gaze on the floor the whole way, not looking up until she reached the bathroom with the offending shower. She stepped into it without even waiting for Sally’s approval, dropping her backpack to the floor and unzipping it.

“The hot water going off is fairly common,” she said as she rummaged through her things, more to herself than to Sally, “it means the cartridge has probably gone; they never last as long as they should. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Can I get you anything?” Sally asked. June looked up at her, confusion settling on her face. “To eat or drink, while you work,” Sally clarified, “or if there’s anything else you need?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” June said quickly, too quickly. She pulled a small wrench from her backpack, turning back to the shower and setting to work. She started humming to herself as she loosened one of the pipes, becoming lost in her work as Sally looked on.

“Okay,” Sally said after a moment, supressing the worries in her gut, “I’ll be out front if you need me.” June murmured in acknowledgment, not bothering to look back as she walked slowly out of the room and back to the café.

As she sat back down behind the counter, letting out a quiet sigh, Sally couldn’t help wondering what the girl’s living situation was. She wasn’t dressed in anything resembling work clothes, and was definitely too young to be working alone, but she had seemed to know what she was doing. And if anything, that worried Sally more; because the way the girl carried herself, that weariness and that strange certainty in what she was doing, were all too familiar.

It reminded Sally too much of Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth, even a bit of Bianca. Had June been forced to grow up too fast, like they had? If she had parents, why would they put her to work like this? And if not, who was she living with? Did she even have anyone who could be there for her?

Sally took a deep breath; all this speculation was getting her nowhere. She reached down under the counter, her hands closing on the familiar shape of a heavy old book. She pulled it up from its resting place, setting the thing down on the desk in front of her.

It had been a gift from the man who had first taken her and her family away from their home universe; a leather-bound journal, stamped with a brass hand and the number five. The front pages were filled with observations on people he had met in his travels, and she had continued that. Every one of her children, everyone she knew on Argo, and every regular traveller at the Seabed had a page with everything from birthdays to allergies to whether they appreciated her blue food.

She turned to the first blank page, pulling a pen from the pot she kept beside the Seabed’s register. In careful handwriting she added a new heading: ‘June Bailey’, ready for anything she could find out about the girl’s situation.

The sound of footsteps on the Seabed’s faux-aged floorboards drew her attention to the door to the back rooms. She looked up from the book to see June step through, carrying a cylindrical bit of brassy plumbing in one grimy hand. Her other hand was back on the strap of her backpack, gripping it tightly.

“Are you all done already?”

“Yup; I’ve replaced the cartridge,” she explained briskly, holding the part up so Sally could see. “I’ve tested it, and the hot water works.”

“Thank you,” Sally put on a warm smile, supressing her concern. June seemed to relax just a little, walking over to the counter.

“Is there anything else?” she asked. “I could take a look at the other showers if you want. They might also be close to failure.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Sally assured her. “I can always let you know if anything else goes wrong.”

“Okay,” June shrugged. “Your loss.” She turned towards the main doors, taking a step. “In that case, I’ve got to get back to it.”

“Actually, June, there is one thing.” Sally stopped her, her voice gentle but firm; she couldn’t let the girl go without at least asking if she was alright. June flinched, before turning back around. Sally couldn’t help dropping her smile, concern worming its way onto her face.

“Is everything alright at home?” she asked, trying to be as gentle as she could. June froze for a second, swallowing. Panic flashed across her face, and Sally could see her chest shifting with quickening breaths under the fabric of her hoodie. It set alarm bells off in Sally’s head; something was clearly wrong.

“Yeah,” June said quickly, “yup, everything’s great!” She took a half-step back, turning away. “No need to worry about me, really.” She started walking, hurrying for the exit, trying to avoid any more awkward questions. “I’ve gotta go, sorry.”

Part of Sally was screaming at herself to stop June, but she held herself back. June clearly didn’t trust her, and trying to force things would only make her panic more. But still, she couldn’t ignore the cold lump of worry settling in her gut as June made a beeline for the exit, slipping out as the doors slid open for her.

Sally watched her disappear down the stairs to the hangar deck, hair jostling as she descended, until June was out of sight. She let out a sigh, looking down again at the blank page in front of her; she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest easy until it was filled, but after seeing June react like that she was sure she couldn’t ask the girl directly. She would just have to find someone else who knew what was going on with the lone maintenance girl.

Chapter Text

A week later, Sally found herself outside the Facilities & Maintenance office door. She was technically on-shift, but traffic had been light for the first time since the day the shower had broken, and Osono from the bakery next door had been more than happy to watch the Seabed while she came down here.

In the end, she had resorted to just asking around. Argo Station didn’t have any governing authority; the company had folded up once they’d sold the station to tenants, and she could find no contact information for any maintenance staff besides the support ticket system that had summoned June to her before. So she was left with a handful of fellow residents to ask, and very little recourse otherwise.

Pretty much everybody had given the same response; various workers had done repairs while the construction work was underway, but since it had wrapped up, they’d only seen June. Nobody knew who her family was, or where she lived, but Wilson had encountered her the most, since his workshop was right next to the Facilities office. By his account nobody else ever went in or out. If that was true, then things were even worse than Sally had feared; it was possible June was the only one working the station’s maintenance.

So now she was here; with nobody else left to ask, she needed to talk to June. She was still wary of scaring the girl back into her shell, of pressing her too hard and shattering whatever little trust she might have had. But her worries wouldn’t allow her to stand by any longer, so here she was.

Sally knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer from inside; as she listened, she was sure she could hear what sounded like distant singing echoing from somewhere inside. It was too faint to make out the words.

She tried the handle; the door swung open with a click, unlocked. Inside was a small office, the walls bare metal and the overhead light a pale yellow. Against one wall was a small pile of old boxes, marked with the logos of hardware and fittings companies. A flimsy-looking desk sat in the centre, with a computer, a tablet, some mixed stationery, and a small picture frame on top; behind it was another door.

Sally approached, feeling a small, creeping sense of guilt at the thought she was probably invading June’s privacy. She ignored it as best she could, reminding herself that she was doing this for June’s own good. As her gaze passed across the desk, she couldn’t help noticing the photo in the frame.

It was worn and faded, making it look much older than it was. June was in the centre, sandwiched between two adults who could only have been her parents. She looked at most a year younger than now; the weariness was gone, her hoodie was clean, and she was smiling, but her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She clung tightly to her mother, who lay in a sterile white bed.

The woman looked hideously frail, her eyes sunken and her skin almost paper-thin, with a dozen different tubes and wires snaking away to various monitoring devices, but her eyes still shone with life and love for her daughter. Her husband was stooped awkwardly to hug them both tightly, as if afraid they might slip from his grasp; his eyes were wet with similar tears.

Looking at them reminded her too much of her own son, and the other children she’d taken in. Of how much they all meant to her. Something awful must have happened, she decided, to tear such a family apart. And if it had been torn apart, then that meant June was all alone.

She knew then and there what she wanted to do. If June really was on her own, living out here with nobody to turn to, then she would offer the girl a place at the Seabed.

The faint singing was clearer in here; Sally found herself listening to it as she looked away from the photo. It was the same tune June had been humming to herself as she worked on the shower, she was sure, and the voice was definitely hers. It was coming from the other side of the door behind the desk; Sally knocked on the door and it stopped abruptly.

There was a brief sound of footsteps and then the door swung open, revealing June standing in the doorway. Her expression shifted in confusion as she looked up at Sally, one eyebrow rising up.

“Oh,” she said quickly, “you’re the woman from the B&B, right? With the broken shower? Do you need something else fixed?”

“Please, call me Sally,” Sally replied. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” Panic flashed across June’s face for a moment, before she suppressed it, forcing herself to look neutral. She leant against the door frame, arms folding.

“Well, about you,” Sally explained; she knew there was no getting around the issue at heart. She took a deep breath. “You’re living here alone, aren’t you?”

June visibly tensed, and Sally could see her façade begin to crack. She took one shaky breath, then another, anxiety setting in. “Yes,” she snapped. “So what?”

Sally chose her words carefully. “I just think someone your age shouldn’t be living on their own,” she began gently, watching June’s reaction closely. “So I want you to know that there’s always a bed at the Seabed if you need it.”

“You want me to come stay with you?”

“Only if you want to,” she reassured, feeling her heart sink a little. “I just think it would be better for you than being alone.”

“What’s wrong with here?” June challenged.

“You’re still a child,” Sally said gently, “Too young to be living on your own like this. If you get hurt or sick or need help you’ve got nobody to go to. In most places a girl your age wouldn’t even be allowed to work, let alone live independently.” She took a deep breath, letting her concern spill out. “And even if it was safe, you shouldn’t be worrying about being self-sufficient at your age.”

“I can handle myself,” June insisted, her breaths still shaky, “I don’t need your help; heck, this place needs my help. I’m the one keeping it from falling apart.”

“I know, and you’re doing a great job,” Sally replied. “You’re a strong girl, June, but that doesn’t mean you should have to deal with everything by yourself.”

June frowned, not budging, and Sally found herself wondering if she had been too forward. She felt an idea settle in the back of her mind.

“If you’re determined to stay, then I won’t stop you,” she acquiesced. June seemed to relax a little at that, taking a deep breath. “Just, at least take down my number, so if anything happens you have someone to call?”

“Will it stop you worrying?” June raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Sally lied; at least this was a step in the right direction.

“Then fine, sure.”

Sally turned back to the desk, glancing over the scattered stationery until she found a pen and a notepad. On the top note she scribbled the Seabed’s extension number for Argo’s internal phone system, before tearing it free and offering it to June.

June looked at the note sceptically for a moment before her expression softened slightly. She nearly snatched it from Sally’s hand, reading over the numbers a couple of times, and then cast her gaze downwards.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, turning away before Sally could say anything else. The door shut behind her, leaving Sally standing alone in the office. The woman let out a sigh; that wasn’t how she had hoped this meeting would go, and her worries lingered, but this was a step in the right direction.

Chapter Text

The night things changed was a cold one; June found herself wondering if she needed to adjust the station's air-conditioning as she ambled along Argo’s upper level, slowly making her way home. One part of her wanted to get a move on, to get home and collapse on her bed after a long day’s working on the station’s systems. But her cold little room was too quiet and lonely, and she dragged her feet as she made her way down there.

That day had been harder than normal; she had woken up with what felt like a bad cold, a dull ache in her head and her nose running. It had only gotten worse as she had worked, and by now her head was throbbing with every step, she was shivering involuntarily, and her throat felt like it was threatening to close up.

The upper concourse was dark; the whole station was in night mode and had been for some time. But light spilled out of a couple of the shop fronts, slicing through the darkness. The largest flood was ahead, where a warm glow shone through the front windows of the Seabed & Breakfast. The faint sound of music echoed from inside.

She paused, curiosity getting the better of her, and crept up to the corner of the window. Inside she could see it was only the lights over the counter still glowing, creating a sort of substitute for warm evening light; even that was enough to hurt her head. The whole café had been rearranged; the tables were shoved to the sides, and in the centre a rough circle of chairs had been made around a large electric heater.

Sally and her family, six children in all, sat in the circle, halfway through what sounded like a campfire song. Sally herself had a guitar on her knee, and so did her oldest, a boy with short blonde hair. A short girl with long blonde hair, a few years younger than June, led the singing, and even through the glass she could make out the words:

“Oh, and my stepmom, she hates me, and my dad works all day, so I left Virginia and I ran away!”

June blinked, not sure if she’d heard right through her bunged-up ears. She tried to listen more, but the song had already moved on. Had she really just heard that? The girl singing, a few years younger than her, looked much happier than her lyrics would suggest.

June found herself looking at the assembled group in a new light; how many of them were runaways? How many had come here alone, like she had? And why did they get to be happy, while she felt like darkness had swallowed all the light inside her? She listened in again, the trying to pick the muffled words out of the music.

“We don’t care where our parents may be, as long as you are here with me!”

Something inside June twinged. She remembered her own parents, and the time they’d spent building Wonderland together. The memories kept coming back unbidden, her eyes starting to sting, but as she remembered she found things felt different. All the times her mom had coughed or sounded raspy, or had to go and sit down, and claimed it was nothing. Had she really been sick all that time, or was what had happened screwing with June’s memory?

She looked back into the B&B, specifically up at Sally. There was no real physical resemblance, but June still saw her mother in the warmth, in the smile, in the happiness she spread and the concern she showed. That was why she couldn’t take the woman up on her offer, as much as part of her wanted to walk up to the door there and then and ask to join the circle; she couldn’t set herself up for another loss she knew she couldn’t take.

She turned away slowly, walking away into the darkness of the station. Her head throbbed as she went, aggravated by the movement, and she fought tears of pain as well as sadness as she headed slowly down the stairs to the hangar level. Finally, she reached the door to her office, her head pounding, and she quickly made her way through to her bedroom.

She stumbled in, not bothering to change, kicking off her shoes and dumping her backpack on the floor. She practically threw herself into her bed, the sudden movement sending a spike of pain through her skull. Her throat was burning, and she felt the sting of bile at the back of her throat. The whole room felt freezing. Everything hurt.

A horrible icy feeling settled somewhere at the back of her mind, tendrils of fear closing around her consciousness; was this how her mom had felt? Was this what her last moments had felt like, alone in the hospital. Was June about to die?

She reached for her bedside table in a feverish haze; Peanut was propped up on top of it, one of the few things she had brought with her when she left home. She grabbed the old plushie and pulled him close, curling up around him to try and escape the sudden terror.

It did nothing to dull the throbbing. Slowly she looked up, back to the bedside table, her gaze settling on the scrap of paper with Sally’s number on it. She couldn’t ignore it anymore; everything was too much; she just wanted it all to stop. And, as she lay there, she knew what she had to do.

Chapter Text

Song Nights were a longstanding tradition at the Seabed & Breakfast. It had been Luke’s idea; if this place was going to be their own Camp Half-Blood, then it should have a campfire. A large open flame on a space station, especially in a room with as much wood panelling as the Seabed’s café, wouldn’t be safe. But they made do with a space heater every Friday night, singing songs together long into the evening.

But that evening, Sally couldn’t relax. Worries about June still gnawed at the back of her mind; for the past couple of weeks, ever since she had given the girl her number, she had asked Wilson to keep her updated on how she was doing. For the most part he had reported nothing out of the ordinary, watching her come and go from her little office each day.

But now Sally was sure something was up. According to him, June had seemed off when she came to fix his heating, tired and sluggish, almost like she was coming down with something. And that worried Sally.

She couldn’t help remembering when she had first brought her own kids out here. Even minor illnesses had been very rough, their immune systems totally unprepared for diseases from other dimensions. The thought that June might be going through something similar, all alone in her tiny little room, terrified her.

Some of the kids had noticed something was bothering her, too; Bianca had been giving her concerned looks all evening, and Luke had asked if she was alright. But she hadn’t told them about June; the last thing she wanted was to ruin Song Night with her own concerns.

The phone rang, dragging her out of her thoughts. The song stopped abruptly, the kids all turning to the Seabed’s counter with a mixture of confused and annoyed expressions.

“I’ll get it,” Luke sighed frustratedly, setting his guitar down. Sally shook her head.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, hoping she didn’t sound as worried as she felt. She stood up, hurrying over and picking up the phone. She wasn’t sure if she was hoping for or against it being June, but she put on her best customer service voice in case. “Hello, Seabed & Breakfast; how may I help you?”

“Is Sally there?” the person on the other end asked weakly. It was a girl’s voice, hoarse and quiet, and one she recognised. She felt a spike of worry.

“I’m here,” she replied quickly, slipping back into her normal voice, “June? Is everything okay?”

There were a series of loud, hacking coughs, and then a moment of silence. “No,” June finally choked out. “It hurts.”

“What hurts?” Sally couldn’t keep the concern from her voice.

“Everything…” the girl cried hoarsely, breaking into another coughing fit.

“Hang on,” Sally said firmly, all thoughts of Song Night forgotten. “I’ll be right there. You’re going to be fine; don’t worry, okay honey?” There was another moment of silence, before June murmured in acknowledgement.

Sally put the phone down, turning to see the entirety of her little mismatched family staring at her. “It’s June,” she explained, already turning for the door.

“Who?” Bianca asked, confusion turning to worry on her face.

“The girl who fixed your shower,” Sally said hurriedly; a full explanation would have to wait. “She’s on her own, she’s very sick, and she needs my help. I won’t be gone long; I need you to have a bed ready for her when I get back. Can you all do that for me?”

“We’re on it,” Luke assured her, followed by a chorus of assent from the others.

Sally didn’t wait a moment longer. She almost sprinted out of the Seabed and across the concourse, hurrying down the stairs and on. All that mattered in that moment was that June needed her, and she was determined to come through.

Finally, she reached the Facilities door, hanging ajar. Everything was dark; the station lights were all turned down, and inside she found the office lamp off. The only source of light was a faint green glow, shining under the door behind the desk.

She stepped up to it and knocked. “June? Are you in there?” There was a barely audible groan of pain in response. “I’m coming in, okay?”

She opened the door slowly and found herself standing in front of a cold, cramped bedroom. One wall was piled high with boxes of spare parts, while the other was bare save for a small pinboard with a couple of June’s other photos from home and some scribbled blueprints. The only light came from a set of glow-in-the dark stars glued to the ceiling, casting a sickly green glow over everything.

There was a bed off to one side, an old, bare metal frame with a small mattress on top. June was lying on top of the crumpled sheets, curled up tightly and whimpering faintly. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, damp with sweat, and her face was flushed and scrunched up in pain. She was still clutching the phone in one hand while her other clung tightly to a small stuffed monkey. The sight made Sally’s heart break.

“June?” she asked softly, kneeling down beside the bed. The girl flinched, before opening her eyes and looking up. Her pupils were dilated, and her unfocused gaze wandered around Sally’s face. The illness was clearly affecting her; she didn’t seem really aware of what was happening.

“Mom?”

“Shhh, I’m here,” Sally reassured, ignoring the girl’s slip. She reached down to gently press a hand against June’s clammy forehead; she was burning up. “You’re running a really bad fever, but you’re going to be okay.” June shivered again. “I’m going to take you back to the Seabed, okay?”

She didn’t wait for permission, scooping June up in her arms as gently as she could and standing up. She wasn’t easy to lift, being a full-grown eleven-year-old, but Sally had more than one child her age and she was notably lighter than any of them. It was just another thing to add to Sally’s long list of concerns, buried under the pressing reality of the situation.

June shifted as she was picked up, the phone and plushie falling from her hands and onto the messy sheets. She squirmed in Sally’s arms, whimpering again.

“It won’t be long,” Sally soothed, not sure if June could even hear her anymore, “I just need you to be strong for me, honey.” June murmured what might just have been a yes, one hand reaching up to grasp Sally’s jacket.

As gently and quickly as she could, Sally made her way out of the room. All that mattered now was getting the girl to safety; she hurried back up the old utility staircase to the concourse, then over to the Seabed, the other kids watching her as she approached.

They all hurried over as she stepped into the café, worry running through them. “Isn’t that the maintenance girl?” Percy blurted, before Bianca gently shushed him.

Luke approached from the back of the group, a determined look on his face. He didn’t show it, but Sally could tell he was just as worried as the rest of them.

“First guest room’s all set up,” he explained.

“Thank you.” Sally forced a smile; he stepped back. She turned to the others, speaking quietly. “This is June; she’s badly ill, she’s going to be waking up in an unfamiliar place, and she’ll need a lot of help to get better. So please, try and be quiet and give her some space.” There were murmurs of assent. Nico gave a thumbs up; June let out a quiet groan.

Sally started walking again, out of the café’s back door, down the guest corridor, and into the first bedroom. True to Luke’s word, there were fresh sheets on the bed and the floor had been vacuumed clean, the bedside lamp on but turned way down until it only cast a faint warm glow. She brought June over to the bed and gently lowered her down, only to realise the girl was still tightly hanging on to her top.

As gently as she could she pulled herself out of June’s grasp. The girl let out another groan of pain, blindly reaching out to try and find where she’d gone, starting to panic beneath the haze of sickness and exhaustion. “Don’t go,” she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.

“I’m here, June,” Sally soothed, reaching down to brush the sweat-stuck hair from her forehead. “You’re in the Seabed; it’s okay.” The girl seemed to calm again at her touch, but she was still burning up.

Sally could tell June needed medicine, and fast. She knew she had a box of antibiotics in her room, but she was reluctant to leave June to go and get them. Slowly she got to her feet, stepping back from where the girl was lying on the bed. June was still curled up, shivering despite how warm the room was.

“Mo- uh, Sally?” a small voice stammered from somewhere behind Sally. She tore her gaze off June, turning to see the shape of a young girl standing in the room’s doorway, silhouetted by the warm light of the hall outside.

It was Annabeth; she was already short for an eight-year-old, but from where Sally stood she looked even smaller. There was something hesitant about her, something uncertain, even as she met Sally's gaze. In one hand she carried a small cardboard box, while the other shakily held a large glass of water.

Sally closed the distance between them, feeling a fresh wave of concern wash over her. The last thing she needed was for something to have happened to one of her other kids. So it was with some trepidation that she knelt down, bringing her gaze level with Annabeth’s.

“I thought June might need these,” the girl said quietly, holding out the box for Sally to see. She took it, her eyes going wide as she read the label in the dim light: the antibiotics June desperately needed.

The first thing to hit her was relief that she didn’t have to leave June alone, followed by a swelling of pride at Annabeth’s foresight. She forced a smile, gently putting one hand on Annabeth’s shoulder. “You were right.”

Annabeth smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She leaned over, trying to peer past Sally, her gaze falling on June’s shivering form on top of the bed. Uncertainty lingered in her gaze.

“Will she be okay?” she asked falteringly. Sally nodded, trying to keep the reassuring smile on her face.

“She will be now, thanks to you.” Gently she leaned in, pulling Annabeth into a quick hug and pressing a kiss to her forehead. When she pulled back she could see that Annabeth’s smile had widened, pride at herself winning out over her fears. She held out the glass of water and Sally took it, stepping back and standing up. “Now, I need to take care of her.”

“Okay.” Annabeth stepped back, then hurried back into the hall and off to join the others. Sally watched her go for a moment, before another groan from June snapped her attention back to the girl who needed her most.

Briskly she stepped back across the room, kneeling down again beside the bed. She set the glass on the bedside table and opened the box of antibiotics, pressing two oblong tablets from one of the blisters inside. June shifted a little, aware of her presence, but she was still tightly curled up.

“June, honey, I need you to take these,” Sally said softly, holding out the pills. “They’re to help you feel better.” June understood; she forced her eyes open slowly, easing herself up just enough to meet Sally’s gaze. Her eyes were still wide, her gaze hazy and unfocused, but she knew what she needed to do. She didn’t protest as Sally brought the pills to her mouth and tipped them in, swallowing hard.

Sally followed them with the glass of water, gently bringing it up to June’s lips and letting her drink. She gulped down most of the glass before Sally took it back gently. “Now lay down; you need to rest.” June complied quietly, easing herself unsteadily down.

She seemed to finally relax as the medicine started to kick in. She uncurled a little, her breaths slowing and the whimpers of pain dying down to nothing. Carefully Sally pulled the bed covers over her, letting out a sigh of relief as she saw the tension leave June’s body. She went to wish her goodnight, but June had already fallen asleep.

Chapter Text

June awoke to a mild headache. She was lying in an awkward position, her clothes from the day before now crumpled and sweaty, but for some reason she couldn’t explain she felt strangely comfortable. The covers around her were warm and welcoming, far softer than the cheap sheets she was used to. Just where was she?

She sat up slowly, looking around. She clearly wasn’t in her own bedroom; this room was at least twice the size, the walls and floor covered in faux-distressed wooden boards. The room itself was sparsely furnished, with just a small shelf and a wooden bedside table. A couple of paintings depicting seaside scenes hung from the walls. There were two doors, both a traditional dark wood that contrasted the metal she had become used to.

The previous night’s events came back to her slowly, and she found herself turning them over in her head. She had called Sally after everything had gotten too much, all the pain and the sickness, and deep down the loneliness too. But everything after the phone call was a feverish blur; she was sure she had seen, or dreamed of, her mother at one point, but that was all she knew.

It occurred to her then that this must’ve been the Seabed, and Sally must’ve gone pretty far out of her way to help. It had been late at night, while the woman had been in the middle of celebrating something with her family, and June had interrupted all of that. And now she was occupying a room that should have been for guests to the B&B. She felt a stab of guilt at the thought.

She resolved to find Sally, to thank her for taking the time and apologise for the disruption. The pain in her head was no longer overwhelming, and she felt like she could breathe again, so she was sure she was well enough to stand.

Slowly she sat up; the room swam for a second, spots fizzling in her eyes, but everything quickly stabilised. She was sure she would be fine. So she swung her legs off the side of the bed and got unsteadily to her feet, wobbling a little as she pushed off the bed.

She walked slowly over to the door and gave it a push. It swung open silently, revealing a long corridor decorated similarly to the room. Warm light flooded down it from one end, where another wooden door sat ajar; so she stepped out into the hall, turning in what she hoped was the direction of the exit.

Beyond was the café at the front of the Seabed. June winced at the bright light from overhead, feeling the pain in her head flare up at the sight. As her eyes adjusted she could see the place had been put back to normal, with mismatched chairs pulled in around worn wooden tables.

“Hey,” a voice called, “how come you’re up?” She turned to the source; the blonde-haired boy from the night before was sitting on the counter, legs swinging back and forth idly. Concern flashed across his face, and she frowned; she didn’t need anyone else worrying about her.

“Where’s Sally?” she asked instead.

“She has to run some errands,” he replied. “She’ll be back soon. But you should be waiting in bed until she does.” He got down off the counter, approaching.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. He just snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Jeez, you’re just like Thal,” he noted. “You had a really rough fever last night, you’re still in pain, and you’re already up and at ‘em?”

“The station needs me,” she protested; she wasn’t about to spill her guilt to someone she barely knew. The smile on his face faded a little.

“Not more than you need rest,” he said firmly. “Trust me, June, you won’t wanna work while you’re feeling like that. And besides, Sally’s not gonna be happy if she finds out you haven’t been taking it easy.”

June felt another prick of guilt at that. So much of her wanted to get out there, to not be any more of a burden than she was sure she was already being. But the idea of disappointing Sally made her feel even worse, and she didn’t have an easy explanation for that. She shook her head, despite how it made the pain flare.

“Fine.” She gritted her teeth, turning away. But as she did, a thought rose up in her mind, unbidden, a lingering question from the night before. “Wait,” she said, turning back, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He smiled. “Fire away.”

“Last night, when you were all singing,” June began, trying to remember the words through the haze of the previous evening, “I overheard some of it. Your…” she trailed off; what was his relationship to the little blonde girl? “Sister, I guess?”

“Annabeth?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Short, curly blonde hair, wears an oversized jacket everywhere?”

“That’s her!”

“Yeah, that’s my sister.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “So, she was singing about how she ran away from home, about her dad and her stepmom and stuff, and I’ve gotta know; is that all true, or was that just a song?” He suppressed a snicker, mirth glinting in his eyes.

“Oh, that’s all true,” he admitted, “she’s a runaway, same as me and Thal.” June blinked, the thought that he had once been somewhere similar to her throwing her off. He seemed to notice her expression, speaking again. “What? You’re not the first stray Sally’s taken in.”

For a moment, June wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Part of her was angry; she wasn’t a stray, and she hadn’t been taken in. But the rest of her was suddenly desperate to know the story behind this strange family.

“Wait,” she couldn’t help asking, “how many of you are actually related to Sally?”

“Just Percy,” he explained, before noticing how she blanked at the unfamiliar name, “dark hair, Annabeth’s age?” She thought back; she could just about picture a kid with that description sitting next to Sally last night.

“How did the rest of you meet her, then?”

He paused, the smile dropping from his face for a moment. He seemed to think for a second, before speaking again. “It’s kind-of a long story,” he admitted, “but, I’ll tell you what; if you go back to bed and get some rest, I’ll tell you all about it.” He already knew he’d won, and June knew it. She sighed, turning back towards the door to the rooms.

“Okay, you win,” she acquiesced, walking away. He followed as she went, back down the wood-lined hallway and into the now-familiar room where she’d woken up. She made her way slowly to the bed, sitting down and pulling her legs up onto it as he approached.

He gave her a warm smile, before sitting down on the other end of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight with a quiet sound of rustling fabric, and then he broke the silence.

“So, I knew Thal and Annabeth way before I met Sally…” he began.

Chapter Text

Sally walked briskly through the Seabed’s front door, pausing for a moment to make sure she had left the sign in the window at ‘closed’. In her arms was a large cardboard box, filled with a variety of objects. Most were personal possessions she had retrieved from June’s room, including her photo and the stuffed monkey she had been clutching the night before; all the things she would need if she was going to be staying at the Seabed.

Underneath all that, however, was something else: a soft black hoodie, still wrapped in plastic, that Sally had bought from the art shop at the other end of the concourse. She wasn’t sure exactly how much it was June’s style, and it was probably a little too large. But the only one the girl seemed to have needed serious washing and repair, and there weren’t many places on Argo to get a replacement, so Sally could only hope it would do.

She quickly headed through the B&B, walking briskly across the café and into the corridor behind it. The door to the first guest room was sitting ajar, and she could make out the familiar voices of June and Luke from beyond; there was a definite warmth in their words, and she couldn’t help smiling as she paused at the door.

“Wait,” June was saying, “you really made Greek fire, just using stuff in that guy’s house?”

“Sure did,” Luke replied proudly. “You should’ve seen it when that stuff went up! We barely made it out alive!”

Sally chose that moment to enter, carefully pushing the door open to see June still in her bed and Luke sitting perched on the end of it. Both kids looked up at Sally, Luke giving her a nod as she stepped into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she began, looking over at June; the girl was still clearly tired, but she looked happier than Sally had ever seen her, with a broad smile on her face.

Luke eased himself down off the end of the bed, meeting Sally’s gaze. He was putting on a proud smile, but Sally could read him easily enough to see that there was something bothering him hidden beneath it.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly. “We were past the good part already.” June frowned at that, but she didn’t protest.

“Okay,” Sally replied. “In that case, would you mind heading out front and opening up for me?” It did need doing, but the truth was she wanted to talk to June alone; after last night, she knew they had a lot to talk about.

“Sure thing,” he agreed, walking across the room towards her. But as he approached her his smile dropped, and he spoke again, quietly. “Can I just ask you one thing?”

She nodded, backing out of the doorway and into the hall. Luke followed, letting the door swing shut behind him; he glanced back to make sure it wasn’t ajar, before speaking again.

“About June,” he began, “we’re keeping her, right?” She couldn’t help quietly snorting at that. But looking down, and meeting his gaze, she could see he was being absolutely serious; she forgot he was only fourteen sometimes.

“I hope so,” she admitted. “I can’t make her want to stay here, but I think, deep down, she already does.” Luke nodded, satisfied, and turned away to head back into the café. Sally took a deep breath, then pushed the door open again.

June looked up at her as she stepped into the room, confusion etched into her tired face. “What was that about?”

“Luke was just worried about you,” Sally admitted. June squirmed a little at that, her smile shrinking; Sally could see the guilt and discomfort on her face. She walked over, setting the box in her arms down by the bedside table. “What was he telling you about?”

“Everything!” That put the smile back on June’s face. “He told me about how he met Thalia and Annabeth, and how they went on the run together before they met you, and how you all came together.” She paused, her brow furrowing; Sally could see questions rising behind her eyes. “Did you really find Nico and Bianca in a magic hotel?”

“It wasn’t me who found them,” Sally admitted, wistfulness creeping into her voice. It had been the same old friend who had given her the journal, who had helped her set up the Seabed, that had introduced her to the di Angelos. They had just been fellow passengers, running from the monsters back home, the same as her and Percy, and Luke and his friends. But she knew that would go over June’s head. “But yes. They needed a home, so I let them stay here, just like everyone else.”

“Just like you,” went unsaid, but June understood. She looked down, and Sally felt a pang of sympathy at the sight. It hurt, to see how torn up even the unspoken suggestion of staying was making her. There was clearly something she wanted to say in return, her mouth opening and closing slowly, but no words would come out.

“How are you feeling?” Sally asked softly, hoping to prompt June into speaking. She didn’t need to say that she was talking about more than just June’s illness. She knelt down beside the bed, meeting the girl’s gaze.

“Okay,” June admitted quietly, the covers around her crumpling as she turned to face Sally. “My head still kinda hurts, and I’m a bit bunged up, but it’s a lot better.”

“Good to hear.” Sally smiled gently. June didn’t return it, keeping her gaze down.

“Thanks, really,” she said softly, “I…” she trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come.” There was an uncomfortable fear in her voice; just how afraid had she been last night, all alone?

“B-but I’m glad you did!” she continued quickly, seemingly noticing Sally’s concern. She tried to take a deep breath, but it came out shaky. “I really am, so thanks. And I’m sorry if I ruined your evening.”

“Oh, June.” Sally gently put a hand on her shoulder, care rising in her voice. “It’s fine, really; you being safe means a lot more to me than one Song Night. Remember what I told you; you can always stay here if you need it, no matter what.”

June took another breath, shallower than the last. Sally could see tears glistening at the corners of her eyes; she reached up, rubbing at them in vain.

“That’s why I had to go out this morning,” Sally continued, “I had to pick up some things for you; I want you to stay here…” She paused; she wanted to say forever, but she was afraid of scaring June back into her shell again. “At least until you’re really well again.”

She pulled the box over from beside the bedside table, the cardboard scraping as she shoved it up beside the bed so June could see. The girl’s eyes went wide at the sight.

“Peanut!” she cried, reaching down and snatching the stuffed monkey from on top of the box. She pulled it close against her chest, arms wrapping tightly around it. Her breaths quickened, each one shakier than the last, as her gaze drifted back down to the box.

Her eyes settled on the photo from her office and she swallowed, reaching down slowly. She held it up to the light from her bedside lamp, sniffling as she looked over the worn image in the frame. Her other arm’s grip tightened, squeezing Peanut against the fabric of her hoodie.

“I miss them,” she said quietly, more to herself than to Sally, “so much.” She started crying in earnest, her whole body shuddering as tears started to run down her face. “I just…” she trailed off, words giving way to more shaky breaths. And for a moment, Sally wasn’t sure what to say, feeling her heart break all over again.

“When mom got sick,” June suddenly found the words, her voiced strained, “she and dad said she was going to be okay; they said they knew special doctors who could help her. But she just kept getting worse and worse and then she- she-”

“June, honey, you don’t have to tell me,” Sally said softly, tightening her grip on the girl’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“N-no!” she cut in, breaking down. “I need to tell someone. I can’t- I just can’t keep it all in anymore.”

She took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm herself, then continued. “When mom had to go away, she told me to keep the light inside me shining bright. And I tried, I tried as hard as I could, b-but I just couldn’t! Not after she was gone…”

She trailed off again, threatening to break into all-out sobbing. “I tried to keep dad safe, too; I did everything I could to make sure I wouldn’t lose him as well. I knew he couldn’t survive without me!

“But one day, when I woke up, the s-sheriff was there, and Aunt Albertine, and Uncle t-Tony, and they, they said there’d been an accident. Dad, he, he went out without me, while I was asleep, and they said there was a truck and-”

“June.” Sally tried to stop her. Everything seemed fall into place; there was something horribly familiar about June’s story.

“I should’ve been there!” she insisted, voice breaking. “If I’d gone with him then I could’ve seen the truck or helped in the wreck or something. But I wasn’t! I couldn’t do anything mom wanted me too! And now he’s… he’s dead too, and I don’t have anyone, and I didn’t know what to do so I just ran.”

“June.” Sally didn’t hesitate any longer. She pulled June out of the bed and into a tight hug, holding her close. The girl broke down in her arms, sobbing into her shirt as the floodgates gave way. She felt June’s arms reach up, wrapping around her and holding on for dear life.

“I just don’t know what to do anymore,” she managed to choke out between sobs. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Shhh,” Sally soothed, reaching up to run one hand through her hair, “June, honey, you don’t have to apologise for anything, okay? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But-”

“No, June,” Sally said softly, “I mean that.” She could tell the girl still doubted her, unable to keep fresh tears from spilling forth, and she felt a faint stinging in her own eyes. “I know exactly how you feel,” she explained gently, “but you can’t blame yourself for things like that.”

“Mhmm?” June murmured, her tone quavering with uncertainty. Sally knew there was only one thing she could say.

“I can’t tell you all my secrets,” she began softly, feeling June’s sobs die down to loud sniffles, “but, when I was very young, I lost both my parents. It was an air crash; they still don’t know why it happened.” She felt June shift, the girl pulling her face away from Sally’s shirt to look up at her with teary eyes.

“What did you do?” she whispered, her voice thick with pain.

“I went to stay with my uncle,” Sally explained, “and things were okay for a while.” That was a white lie, but June didn’t need to be burdened with the details. Sally took a deep breath, supressing the sting that came with the memories. “When I was in high school, he got sick, the same way your mom did.”

She felt June gasp, her grip tightening. Sally went on, feeling a lump form in her throat. “I dropped out of school, and did everything I could to help him, but in the end, he died. So, I know how it feels, June. And I know that blaming yourself and shutting people out will only make it hurt more.”

June broke into another round of sobs, her body heaving with each one. “You’re strong, June,” Sally soothed, running one hand through her hair again. “But you don’t need to be anymore. It’s okay.”

They stayed like that for a moment, just sharing the embrace, until June was reduced to quietly sniffling. She loosened her grip, and Sally gently let her go; she sat back against the side of the bed, meeting the woman’s gaze. There was an uncertain hope in those wide green eyes, mixed with all the sadness and pain she had been fighting to bury for so long.

“I want to live with you,” she admitted finally, “I do! I want to stay here and have friends and family and people who care again, but…”

“But what, honey?”

“I’m scared,” she said helplessly. “I just keep thinking; what do I do if I lose you too? What happens then?”

“June,” Sally said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder again, “I’m not going anywhere; none of us are.” Finally, trust seemed to win out in June’s gaze. “I can’t promise that things will always stay the same, that everything will be easy from now on, but you can’t live your whole life hiding away from getting hurt; trust me, I know.”

June swallowed. She looked down, one hand squirming in the other’s grasp. For a moment she was quiet, taking a few long breaths to calm herself, before she broke the silence.

“Okay,” she said quietly, “Then I’ll do it; I’ll come stay with your family.” Sally couldn’t help smiling at that, feeling a familiar warmth inside at the thought.

“Not my family,” she said firmly, “our family. You’re a part of it too, now, honey.”

She took her hand off June’s shoulder and reached down into the box, fingers closing on the plastic wrap of the new hoodie. She pulled it out slowly, careful not to dislodge any of the other things in the box, and offered it to June. The girl took it cautiously, eyeing the package with confusion.

“I want you to have this,” Sally said fondly. She pushed the hoodie towards the girl. “Go on, you can open it.”

June tore into the package, pulling the hoodie out and unfolding it to get a proper look. It was brand new, the black fabric soft to the touch, while the inside was lined with even softer brown fur. On the back was a bird, embroidered in blues and greys, wings outstretched wide across the shoulder blades.

“I was planning on giving it to you whether or not you chose to stay,” Sally explained softly. “I know your old one probably has some sentimental value; I’m not asking you to get rid of it, but I thought you should have something nicer to wear.”

June let the thing fall across her knees, looking back up at Sally. Her eyes were wide, and Sally could see tears starting to form again. But she was smiling widely, relief and hope blooming in her expression. She leapt forwards, throwing her arms around Sally for the second time.

“Thank you,” she said softly, “so much.”

Sally couldn’t help letting out a fond chuckle at that. “You’re welcome, June,” she said gently, reaching down to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Now, I think you’ve earned some blue cookies after all that.”

Chapter Text

By the time the afternoon rolled around, June was feeling a lot better. Another round of antibiotics had beaten back any lingering traces of her illness, and after her conversation with Sally she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had a home again, a real home, and a family too; for the first time in a very long time she felt like everything was going to be okay.

She still had a lot of decorating to do, but the things Sally had brought up from her bedroom and office were now scattered around the room, and already the place felt like it was hers. In her mind she could just picture it fully furnished, with her own belongings and decorations everywhere. She couldn’t wait to get started.

The sound of rapid footsteps on worn floorboards pulled her from her thoughts. She looked over to the source; the door to the hallway swung open just as her gaze reached it, revealing one of the Seabed kids she hadn’t had a chance to meet yet.

He was shorter than her, maybe a year or two younger if she had to guess, with dark, messy hair that looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. A worn leather bomber jacket, much too large for his small frame, hung down from his shoulders. His dark eyes were wide, his olive face split by an eager grin.

“Hi!” he greeted eagerly, crossing the room as fast as his short legs could carry him. June watched him approach hesitantly, not entirely sure what to make of this intrusion.

“Uhh, hi?” she replied, wracking her brain for a moment as she tried to remember what Luke had told her, back when she had first woken up. She sorted through all the names and descriptions he had given, searching for a name to put to the boy in front of her. “You’re… Nico, right?”

“Yeah!” He nodded, hair flopping back and forth. “I wanted to come say hi, since mom said you’re joining the family.” That gave June pause again; he didn’t mean Sally, did he? She knew they weren’t related.

“Mom?” she questioned. Nico’s smile shrunk in an instant, his brow furrowing, and his smile replaced by a pout.

“Aww, not you too!” he protested. She wasn’t sure what to say to that; after a moment he spoke again, the faintest hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. “I mean Miss Sally; Bianca doesn’t like it when I call her that.”

“Why not?” June asked hesitantly, worried she’d somehow stumbled and struck a nerve. Nico shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “she’s like a mom to all of us; she even lets Thalia use her last name! And I know she doesn’t mind it. My sister’s the only one who does.” He looked down, his voice dying down to little more than a mutter. “It’s not like she even remembers our birth mom.”

“She doesn’t?” June couldn’t even imagine forgetting her parents; the very thought made her skin crawl.

“I don’t either,” he shrugged. “She died when we were young, before the Lotus Hotel…” he trailed off for a moment, looking down, before his dark eyes snapped back up to meet hers, the sadness replaced with fresh curiosity. “You’ve heard about that, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, feeling a pang of sympathy at his words. “Luke told me.” Nico nodded sagely, something new glinting in his eyes.

“He already thinks you’re one of us,” he said with the kind of blunt certainty only a young child could have. His voice turned quiet, like he was telling her a secret. “I heard him telling Annabeth that she could help you decorate your room.”

Something tightened in June’s chest at that; she had only just gotten this room, only just made it her own, and she had always decorated her rooms however she wanted. The only people who had ever helped her before were her parents, back when they had built Wonderland with her, so long ago. The idea of someone else taking that over, no matter who, prompted an instinctive response.

“Not happening,” she said bluntly, shaking her head.

“Why not?” he asked innocently, one eyebrow rising. “Annabeth’s really good at architecture and design! And she loves making stuff; she helped all of us with our rooms.” June took a deep breath, trying to calm herself back down; he only wanted to help, she reminded herself.

“It’s just,” she hesitated, not quite sure how to explain it. Slowly, she found the words came to her. “My room is my own space,” she explained gently, “what goes where and how it all looks means a lot to me; it has to be just right. And decorating was something I used to do with my mom and dad, a lot, before…” she trailed off, choosing her next words cautiously. “Before everything happened, you know?”

He nodded slowly, that weird sage look back on his face. “Okay,” he acquiesced, “you don’t have to let her help you, but you should at least talk to Annabeth about it. I’m sure she’ll understand; she’s really smart like that.”

“Maybe I will,” June couldn’t help conceding; there was something in his tone that she trusted. She couldn’t help remembering Sally’s words from earlier, about how shutting people out would only make things hurt more. She didn’t feel to try something in the vein of Wonderland with these kids, at least not yet, but maybe she could let them in a little.

“Yay!” Nico jumped where he stood, arms thrown up in excitement. His enthusiasm was infectious, and she felt herself break into a small smile without even having to think about it. She felt a rising warmth, a feeling of belonging she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Nico?” a new voice cut across the room, shattering the moment in an instant. It wasn’t one that June recognised; her gaze snapped up, over Nico’s messy hair and to the door to the hallway, meeting warm brown eyes.

Standing in the doorway was another girl about her age. Her skin was the same olive shade as Nico’s, her hair a brown so dark it was almost black in the warm light of the Seabed’s lamps. It was tied neatly back into a braid, falling in front of her shoulders. A smattering of freckles crossed the bridge of her nose, decorating a face that bore a fond but weary expression.

“What are you doing in here?” She looked down, addressing Nico as she walked across the room. He turned to look at her as she approached, frowning. “Sally said to give June some space; she’s still sick and she’s only just moved in.” There was exasperation in her tone; she was doing her best to hide it behind a patient veneer, but June picked up on it anyway.

“Biancaaaa!” Nico drew his sister’s name out, slumping dramatically in frustration. “I wasn’t bugging her!”

Bianca looked up again at June as she reached the bedside, her gaze questioning. June couldn’t help glancing down; Nico was looking up at her expectantly. And as much as she hadn’t been prepared to meet him, she couldn’t say that she minded.

“He wasn’t, really,” she assured. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Bianca shook her head dubiously, letting out a sigh. Nico smiled at his victory, before something seemed to occur in the back of his mind. He looked up quickly, meeting his sister’s gaze, the smirk wiped clean off his face.

“How come you were looking for me?” he asked innocently. June could make out a hint of uncertainty in his voice; was he afraid he’d done something wrong?

Bianca picked up on it too. “I wasn’t,” she insisted quickly, “I was sent to talk to June.” She looked back at the other girl, her tone softening. “Us kids all had a talk about what happened last night, and we decided tonight should be a do-over-” Her brother gasped, cutting her off.

“You mean we’re doing another Song Night?!” he blurted out. Bianca rolled her eyes, giving him a small nod of acknowledgement. He jumped in excitement, eyes going wide again “Yes!”

June couldn’t help quietly snorting at his enthusiasm. But immediately a half-dozen different questions rose up in the back of her mind, confusion swallowing any joy she might have felt. She found herself thinking back again to the bits of last night she could remember, to the celebration she’d overheard. “Wait, hold up; what’s a song night?”

“She doesn’t know?” Nico’s voice was suddenly quiet, almost a whisper, like her lack of knowledge was somehow a surprise. She rolled her eyes.

“How was I supposed to?” she asked. “Only just moved in, remember?” Bianca gave her a sympathetic look, while Nico frowned again. “I mean, I saw you guys celebrating something last night, where you all sat around a heater. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes,” Bianca explained softly, recognition blooming in those dark eyes, “it’s not really a celebration, except of us being here, I guess; it’s just something we do for fun. Every Friday we all get together and sing campfire songs.”

June frowned, feeling something creeping in her chest, the horrible tightness threatening to return the moment she gave in to those thoughts. She tried to remember Sally’s words, but still she felt a rising, uncomfortable guilt at the thought her illness had ruined an evening for everyone else.

“Guess I messed that up, huh?”

“Don’t say that.” Bianca’s tone was soft but firm, something almost reminiscent of Sally creeping into her sudden words. She reached out, one hand coming to rest on June’s shoulder, and gave the other girl a reassuring smile. Looking into those dark eyes, June couldn’t help feeling a connection; she knew in an instant that Bianca understood just how she felt.

“You getting ill wasn’t your fault,” she continued. “You needed help, and that’s okay; it’s not fair to blame yourself for things you can’t control.” There was something deeper there. Bianca was speaking from experience; June could just feel it. Somehow, she was sure that this other girl was a kindred spirit. She couldn’t help returning the smile, feeling the horrible sensation fade from her chest.

“Plus, we get an extra Song Night!” Nico suddenly butted in, jumping up again. The moment was shattered; Bianca pulled her hand away, turning to glare at her brother, and June felt the faintest pang of sadness at that.

“Yes, we do,” Bianca said bluntly. She sighed, looking back up at June. “If you’re feeling well enough, would you like to join us?”

“Should I?” June asked, cringing internally as soon as the words left her mouth. But she couldn’t ignore her doubts; it had been a long time since she had interacted with other kids her age, and part of her wondered if this was a good idea. But then she saw that same reassuring look in Bianca’s eyes again, that trust and understanding that instantly put her back at ease.

“I think so,” the other girl admitted. “It’s all for fun, so no pressure, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah!” Nico added. “Plus, Luke says it’s a rite of passage! Sing tonight, and you’ll be a real Seabed kid!”

“You’re already a Seabed kid,” Bianca said quickly but firmly, before any doubts even had a chance to take hold in June’s mind. “You’re staying here, so you’re one of us.”

“Thanks.” June felt an impulse rise up, something she hadn’t done in a long time, and decided to follow it. She reached out, taking one of Bianca’s hands in her own; the dark-haired girl gave her another warm smile at that, and June returned it. “I guess I’ll come along this evening,” she said slyly, noticing Nico’s face light up at her words. “It sounds like a lot of fun.”

Chapter Text

The café was in the middle of being set up for Song Night by the time June emerged from her room, excitement and nervousness bubbling in her gut in equal measure. Nico, Bianca, and Annabeth were waiting by the counter, watching the preparations; they all looked up as June approached, the younger two grinning while Bianca gave her a welcoming smile.

“How’s it going?” June asked, falling comfortably in beside them. She leant up against the end of the counter, one foot crossing over the other.

“Have a look,” Bianca replied; June nodded and followed her gaze, looking out over the café.

Luke was in the middle of the room, moving tables aside single-handedly, while a girl June hadn’t had the chance to meet yet was picking out mismatched chairs and carrying them over to the centre. She was tall and athletic, but not quite as tall as him, with pale skin and short, messy black hair that stuck up at odd angles. She wore a leather jacket that was slightly too large, the shoulders studded with metal spikes; stiff black jeans, patched down the sides and ripped around the knees, completed the look.

As she set down two chairs in the centre, the circle from last night halfway recreated, she seemed to catch sight of the newcomer standing in the doorway. She spun around, electric blue eyes meeting June’s uncertain gaze. Her face, decorated with scattershot freckles, quirked into a half-smile.

“Hey, new girl!” she called, boots clomping on the floorboards as she went back for more chairs. “Come help set up?”

For a moment, June wasn’t sure what to do. She couldn’t help feeling a little intimidated, hesitation clawing its way into the back of her mind. But then she heard Bianca suppress a faint chuckle, seemingly noticing her indecision.

“Go on,” she encouraged with a smile, “Thalia doesn’t bite.”

June nodded; she wasn’t going to be put off by whatever irrational fears wanted to hold her back. She pushed off the counter, heading for the far side of the room where Thalia was still gathering chairs. As she walked, she heard a small voice from behind her speak up, what she recognised as Annabeth adding:

“Actually, she did bite a hellhound once.”

June kept walking, mentally adding that to the growing list of things she needed to ask the other kids about. It seemed everyone here had some crazy stories, all of them intertwining in ways she worried she might never understand. But she buried those thoughts as best she could; she wanted to make this her home, and she was sure she could make new stories with the others here.

Thalia looked up as she approached, that smirk still on her face. She had another old wooden chair in her hands, a few flakes of cracked yellow paint clinging to the bare wood around the bottom of the seat, but she set it down as June closed the distance.

“So,” she greeted, eyes narrowing, leaning over the chair, “Luke says you’re sticking around.” June felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on-end.

“Yeah,” she said quickly. Thalia’s expression softened just a little, her smile baring a hint of teeth.

“Good.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “I don’t think I could’ve forgiven you if you’d disappointed him and Annabeth.” June blinked, one thought overriding all others; she knew about Luke, but why would his little sister care if she stuck around? They hadn’t even met yet.

“Annabeth wants me to stay?”

“Of course,” Thalia assured her, fondness creeping into her voice at the mention of the youngest Seabed kid. “Finally she’s got someone she can infodump to about architecture and engineering and all that, and y’know, vice-versa, I guess.” June couldn’t help smiling at that; it seemed she was doing that a lot more today than she ever had on Argo before.

“That does sound cool,” she admitted. She found herself wondering if Annabeth would appreciate the finer details of Wonderland, the mechanical designs she had used to come up with to explain and support the whimsy; it was certainly worth a shot if she ever felt ready to try building the park again, she decided.

“I should hope so,” Thalia continued. Something seemed to come over her; she let out a long breath, her smile dropping. “And, June, I know it’s not easy to give up the runaway life. Trust me; I’ve been there.” June just nodded; she knew from Luke’s stories that Thalia had been on the run for a long time, longer than she had at least. “But you won’t regret this,” the older girl assured her, sincerity in her brilliant blue eyes.

“Hey!” Luke’s voice sliced right through the moment; he was standing in the mostly-formed circle of chairs, his hands on his hips. “If you two are done talking, we still need three more chairs over here.”

“You take this one,” Thalia suddenly ordered. She stood up, shoving the chair she had been leaning on at June; there was a squeal as the thing scraped on the floorboards.

June looked at her dubiously. She picked the thing up; it wasn’t that heavy, but the size made carrying it a little awkward. Still, she managed to get it back to the centre of the room without much incident, dropping it down in the gap between two others. Luke gave her an approving smile as she did, stepping over and reaching down with one hand to ruffle her messy hair. It was a weird feeling, one she barely remembered from before, but it felt nice.

Thalia laughed; June looked over to see her easily hefting the remaining two chairs they needed, one hand holding on under each seat as if they weighed nothing at all. The smirk was back on her face, mirth rising in her eyes.

“You’re going soft, Luke,” she accused playfully, dumping the chairs down in the remaining gap in the circle. He snorted.

“We all are,” he countered; she just rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, the words too quiet for June to understand.

He looked around over the circle, hands coming to rest proudly on his hips, before his gaze fell upon June again. “I think that does it,” he said affirmatively, before turning to where the others were waiting by the counter. “Alright, everyone, pile in! Circle’s ready!”

“Wait,” June asked, even as she saw the others walking over. “Isn’t there supposed to be a heater in the middle? You guys had one last night.”

“Sally gets that, normally,” he explained. He paused for a moment, the smile fading from his face. “She should be here by now…”

“I could go look for her?” she suggested quickly; part of her wanted to be helpful, but she couldn’t deny the rest of her felt some obligation to help. After everything the others had done for her, this would be a start towards making it up to them. She stood up without waiting for a reply, turning out to look towards the door to the bedrooms.

“Go ahead.” She heard him say with a chuckle. “Sally’s probably in her room.”

She started walking briskly, out through the circle of chairs and across the café towards the door. She passed the others halfway, all of them looking over at her in confusion. Bianca stopped walking at the sight, hesitating; Nico and Annabeth both took a few more steps, before they realised she was no longer following them.

“June?” she asked. June stopped, turning to meet her gaze; there was worry, not confusion, in those dark eyes. “Where are you going?”

She was worried June had changed her mind; the other girl realised. She couldn’t help feeling a little warm at that, at the thought that Bianca cared enough to ask. A smile crossed her face.

“I’m just going to find Sally,” she assured, “so we can get started.” The concern melted away, replaced by something unreadable.

“Do you know where to look?” Bianca challenged. June shrugged.

“Luke said she’s probably in her room,” she replied, only for the realisation to smack her in the face that she had no idea where that was. “And I don’t know which one that is.”

“It’s down the end of the hall,” Bianca offered, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. “The one with the blue door with a trident painted on it instead of a number.”

“Thanks,” June replied, turning back towards the door. She started walking, only for Bianca’s voice to cut her off again.

“Just, don’t take too long, okay?”

“I won’t,” she promised, setting off again.

Chapter Text

The Seabed’s equipment closet was a mess, Sally noted as she squeezed her way in. It was a cramped space, running off the back of her room; it had been built as a small walk-in wardrobe, but she had never owned enough clothes to need the thing, so instead it had become a dumping ground for boxes of spare sheets and extra cleaning equipment. The only thing that came in and out regularly was the electric heater, pushed up against the back wall, that she dragged out for every Song Night.

It was an old thing; a grey-white metal box the size of a small table, mounted on wobbly plastic wheels. Open grills covered the sides and top, baring the heating elements and reflectors below. She had originally bought it as a backup, in case Argo’s heating had ever failed and left the Seabed too cold, but Song Nights had seen it put to good use at least once a week.

Sally couldn’t help smiling as she pulled it out, wheels clacking against the floorboards. She wasn’t sure which of her children had first proposed getting back together for another Song Night, but it was the perfect idea. After all the chaos of bringing June in, how worried everyone had been, Sally decided they had earned another night off. And besides, it would be the perfect welcome to get June settled in.

As she pulled the heater out through the closet door, the sound of creaking hinges from across the room gave Sally pause. All of the doors in the Seabed were new; the whole place was less than three months old, down to the fittings; and every other room had brand new self-lubricating hinges that glided silently. But, after everything that had happened to her back home, the idea that someone could slip into her room undetected left an uncomfortable pit in her stomach. So she’d had the construction company fit her door with loud second-hand brass instead.

She stood up, turning just in time to see the door swing open. She felt a spike of worry at the sight; standing there, hands clenched tightly at his sides, his shoulders tensed, and his sea-green eyes full of uncertainty, was Percy. He almost flinched under her gaze, swallowing.

“Hey, mom,” he greeted quietly, voice quavering just a little, “can I talk to you about something?” Alarm bells went off in her head; normally he only acted like this when he thought he had done something wrong, something he didn’t want her to find out about.

“Of course, honey,” she reassured, stepping across the room. She sat down on the bed, facing the door, burying her concern behind a familiar reassuring smile. “Come here?” She patted the covers beside her.

Gingerly he walked over, climbing up and perching on the bed beside her. He fidgeted a little, short legs kicking in the air, but didn’t say anything else. “What’s bothering you, Percy?” she asked softly.

He took a deep breath, then spoke quietly. “Does June really have to stay here?”

For a moment, Sally wasn’t sure what to say, something cold and uncomfortable settling in her gut. She had known her son for all eight years of his life; he could be sarcastic, and sometimes troublesome, but he didn’t have a cruel bone in his body. So where had this come from?

“Yes, she does,” she said, her voice soft but firm, leaving no room for argument. “June doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and she needs someone to care for her. Do you…” she hesitated, trying to find the words. “Do you not want her to stay?”

Percy squirmed uncomfortably at that; she reached out, putting one arm over his shoulders and pulling him gently into her side. She could feel the tension in his small body, even as he looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

“I don’t want her to be alone,” he said quietly, something painful creeping into his voice, “but why does she have to come here? Why can’t Osono, or Wilson, or someone else take care of her?”

Sally sighed. “Because I know what she’s going through,” she explained softly, “and I know I’m the best person to help her right now.” She looked down; he still refused to meet her gaze, her eyes falling on his dark hair instead.

It was clear she wasn’t going to get to the bottom of this unless she asked directly. Whatever the issue was, her son was afraid to tell it, and that just made her worry even more. So she asked, keeping her tone as soft and reassuring as she could.

“Why don’t you want her living here, honey?” He didn’t immediately reply, squirming uncomfortably. “Percy, I’m not upset,” she reassured, “I just want you and June to both be happy; whatever’s going on, you can tell me.”

“You’re always worrying about her,” he said finally; Sally could hear the lump forming in his throat. “And you’ve spent all today getting things for her, and you’ve got everyone else to take care of, a-and…” he trailed off, leaning away from her side His hands gripped the edge of the bedsheets, the fabric crumpling. “How are you gonna have time for me?” his voice, so small and uncertain, cracked.

She felt her heart breaking; she reached down and pulled him up onto her lap, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He shivered a little.

“Oh, Percy,” she soothed, gently running a hand through his hair, “I’ll always make time for you if you need me, just like I will for June, or any of the others.” She felt him sniffle, small arms coming up to wrap as far as they would go around her midsection.

“Sorry, mom,” he said faintly. She tightened the embrace, stroking his hair again.

“It’s okay, honey,” she said softly, “I know big changes can be hard, and I will be busier now that June’s with us, especially right now. She’s only just moved in, and she still needs a lot of help.” She took a deep breath, before continuing. “But I don’t love you any less because of that; there’s enough love in me for you, and her, and everyone else here.”

“You mean that?” he whispered, sniffling again.

“Of course, honey.” He finally looked up, his eyes damp but filled with reassurance. She gave him a warm smile, and he did his best to return it, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, his arms squeezing her. She felt a swelling of warmth, relieved that everything was going to be alright.

Suddenly there was a new sound, a quick and insistent tapping that echoed through the blue wood of the bedroom door. Percy let go, turning on her lap to get a better look.

“Hello?” Sally called, loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear. The door opened slowly, the hinges creaking loudly in protest, to reveal June standing in the hallway.

She was wearing her new hoodie, the dark fabric of her sleeves bunching where she’d rolled them up to her elbows. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of Percy in his mother’s lap, looking over his head to meet Sally’s gaze. She seemed a little tense, her hands half-closed at her sides.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked. Sally shook her head.

“Nope!” Percy cut in before she could say anything. He squeezed out of her arms, face flushed a little with embarrassment as he dropped off her lap and onto the floor. “All good!” Sally suppressed a chuckle at that.

“Oh,” June noted.

“What did you need?” Sally asked, pushing off the bed and onto her feet. June frowned.

“Luke sent me to check on you,” she explained quickly, “everyone’s waiting for the heater so we can start Song Night.”

Sally blinked, the realisation setting in that she had completely forgotten about Song Night; helping Percy had taken priority over everything else, and now everyone was waiting for her. She nodded, trying to hide her surprise.

“Of course,” she agreed. “I just had to have a talk with Percy; I’ll move the heater now.” She looked down at Percy; her son had broken into a wide smile, excited for the evening now that he was no longer worried. “Honey, can you do me a favour?” she asked. “I made a plate of blue cookies for this evening; can you go and grab them from the kitchen for me?”

She could see his eyes widen at the thought of her cookies, and felt a rising warmth inside at the thought. He nodded. “Sure thing, mom!”

He took off for the door; June had to dodge out of the way as he dashed past, disappearing down the corridor. She watched him go but didn’t follow, instead turning back to face Sally. She still seemed a little tense, like something uncomfortable still lingered in the back of her mind.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, her gaze falling past the bed and onto the heater waiting beyond it. She nodded at it. “I could help move that, if you want.”

There was something in her tone that made Sally feel concerned all over again. She got the sense, somehow, that the girl felt obligated to help, that she felt somehow, she had to pay Sally back, or earn her place in the Song Night. It was a behaviour she knew all too well; Bianca had been similar in the early days, and she still sometimes slipped back into it.

“That’s okay,” Sally replied, “You can relax, June; you don’t need to help.”

“But I want to,” June countered, her brow furrowing, “you’ve done so much for me; moving a heater is the least I can do to say thanks.”

“Honey, you don’t need to say thanks,” Sally reassured, feeling warmth swell inside. “You deserve a home, no matter what. I appreciate that you like to help, and that’s okay, but you’re a part of this family regardless.”

The lingering tension seemed to leave June’s body at that. She let out a deep breath, a small smile worming its way onto her face. “Thanks,” she said quietly. Something new seemed to bloom in those green eyes, hope mingling with relief and something else unreadable. “Wait, can I…” she trailed off, seeming to lose the words for a moment. “Is it okay if I hug you?”

Sally felt a pang at the thought that June even felt the need to ask. She opened her arms, offering the girl an embrace. “Of course, honey,” she said softly, “you never need to ask for hugs.”

June didn’t need any more prompting. She rushed forwards, throwing her arms tightly around Sally for the third time that day. Sally gently hugged her back, feeling more than hearing her let out a contented murmur. She lingered for a moment, before pulling away again, a warm smile on her face.

“Y’know,” she said, meeting Sally’s gaze again, “I think I could get used to those again.”

Chapter Text

The air was thick with happy conversation as June sat back down in her chair, looking all around the circle. She couldn’t help feeling warm inside, seeing all those smiling faces and knowing that they were her family now. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to; she had spent too long shutting it all out, bottling everything up inside, but from now on she was sure things were going to be different.

She watched as Sally finished plugging in the heater; the woman turned the thing on, the heating elements flickering to life. And then a wave of heat washed over her, radiating out from the source that now glowed an inviting orange. Sally smiled at her as she sat back down, choosing a chair between her son and Nico.

“Are you ready?” Bianca’s voice dragged June from her thoughts. The other girl had chosen the seat next to her, and was looking over with fondness in those dark eyes and a small smile on her lips. June couldn’t help smiling back.

“I guess,” she shrugged; deep down, some hesitation still lingered, but the sense of belonging she felt had smothered the worst of it. Bianca seemed to understand; she reached out, one hand finding one of June’s and gently taking it.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she assured, squeezing gently. June felt a surge of confidence at that.

“I’ll be more than fine,” she said firmly, squeezing back, “I’ll be splendiferous.” Bianca snorted at that.

“’Splendiferous’?” June nodded, despite the hint of embarrassment she felt creeping up her spine.

“It’s something my mom used to say,” she explained, a sort of bittersweet feeling coming unbidden at the memory. Bianca nodded, understanding. She let their hands fall, still held together, so they hung comfortably in the gap between the chairs.

“Alright, everyone!” Luke announced suddenly, drawing both girls’ attention. He had his guitar on his knee, the strap draped loosely over his shoulder. “I say it’s time we got started.”

There were a couple of cheers from the younger kids; Thalia giggled.

“Now,” he continued, “We all know it’s June’s first Song Night, so, as the newcomer, I say she goes first.”

“Only if she wants to,” Sally checked him. She had another guitar in her hands, older and more worn than the one Luke carried, and the plate of blue cookies at her feet, already half-eaten. Her gaze shifted to June, a mixture of warmth and concern in her eyes; the gazes of everyone else in the circle followed, every kid eagerly awaiting June’s response.

“I do,” she insisted, feeling Bianca squeeze her hand again; she felt an idea already beginning to form in her head, the tune she had been humming on and off since she arrived at Argo replaying in the back of her mind. “It’s any campfire song, right?”

“Yup,” Thalia confirmed.

“And don’t worry if you can’t sing,” Luke reassured, “we’re all friends here.”

“Okay,” June said, “So, this is a song I learnt when I was at Math Camp last summer. It’s not all that long, but it should be fun.” She took one last deep breath, letting go of the last of her apprehension, and began to sing:

“Oh my, here comes pi, three-point-one-four, one-five. A constant we all know, the famous ratio!”

She clapped out the tune against her leg with her free hand, feet stamping along. Luke picked it up on the second bar, adding the hum of his guitar to the melody; the others clapped in time.

“Oh my, here comes pi; how many can you memorise? It goes on and on, a never-ending song!”

Ten pairs of feet stamped along at once. Sally joined the tune, adding her own instrument to the melody.

“Hey, hey, it’s pi day! Make a circle, celebrate! The irrational action, that can’t be expressed as a simple fraction!”

June couldn’t help looking around as she belted out the final line, her heart thrumming in time with the music. Everybody else was grinning and laughing, enjoying the melody, hands flying up and feet stamping down in unison. And in that moment, more than anything else, she knew one thing; she was home.

She felt like all of her trials were over. She knew things weren’t going to be perfect overnight; some of the wounds left by the loss of her parents still cut deep, and she had been alone for so long that she was sure adjusting would be a challenge. But in that moment, caught up in the music, with Sally watching fondly on, Bianca gently holding her hand, and her new family by her side, she felt invincible.

“Everyone!” Luke called, strumming out the melody again. And just like that, the song began again, eight voices singing in unison.

“Oh my, here comes pi, three-point-one-four, one-five…”